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The first time Johnnie met Shula was the day he went to the Yorkshire office to look over his late thirties with strong aquiline features. He’d seen life as a cattle drover in the wilds of Mexico for a couple of years and never let you forget it. One of the great survivors of this world. His name was James and he had a blonde secretary called Shula. Their relationship was a constant topic amongst his staff who would invent what they didn’t know. Shula was a single career woman in her early thirties and worked hard to give the impression of sophistication, professionalism and efficiency. When there was a bit of a panic on, this veneer slipped and a worried confusion took over. She had a caustic tongue when the mood took her and could be very belligerent at times, particularly to the other secretaries; she swore at them a lot. Shula protected her boss from unwanted visitors or phone calls with firmness; it often took a long explanation before you could get past the desk in her office into the inner office. She bowed to his every whim, filled his car with petrol and bought his cigars. She reminded him of birthdays and anniversaries and laughed at his jokes. Since Johnnie was a personal friend of James and not responsible to him, he enjoyed a less formal relationship with Shula and, when on their own, he could pull her leg and share silly rude stories, which made her giggle. She also kept him up to date with company scandal and the latest gossip about the scandals amongst the staff – of which his new accommodation. The boss there was the Sales Director; a tall aggressive chap in there were several. On those occasions she was just a giddy blonde passing on gossip with a silly giggle. They got on well.

Shula was not a conventionally pretty woman. Her sensible blonde hair-do, normally carefully arranged, had a habit of becoming slightly dishevelled when she was in a panic – her mood was often to be judged by the state of her hair – and she had pale blue eyes. A slightly twisted and upturned snub nose with a somewhat protruding lower jaw gave her a pugnacious, almost bull-dog look. Shula always dressed smartly and wore perfume with an expensive tang to it. Her figure was that of a young boy, really, with few discernible curves. She was about five feet seven inches tall. To compensate for her lack of traditional femininity, she had developed a forceful personality with men, sharing jokes with them when appropriate and drinking halves of best mild beer. She had no boy friend that anyone knew of and no admirers that anyone had noticed; she just wasn’t that sort of person. Real ladies didn’t swear in front of men, but Shula did. Often! She was just one of the lads, in spite of her sophistication. Her male colleagues called her Angel-tits Shula behind her back. In fact, they had pet names for all the secretaries; Sexy Sheila, Ravishing June, Big Bum Barbara, Fornicating Fiona, and so on.

Shula had come to the firm after recovering from a brush with religion. She never spoke about it, but this was the story she told.


Shula lived at home with her widowed mother. After her father’s funeral, she and her mother were comforted by the young, compassionate priest who had led the service. They were persuaded to come to his church the following Sunday to pray for their departed father. It often comforted the bereaved, he explained. So they did. It was not the sort of religious service Shula had been brought up to expect. For a start, there were no pews as such. People stood around informally. And it was much noisier. The congregation became almost manic at times, crying out the name of the Lord, seeking his blessing. They hugged one another in friendship. The preachers were all dressed in white robes. The congregation sang modern hymns at the tops of their voices. It was more like a celebration than a formal religious service. At the height of the ritual, the priest cried out. “Who needs to be embraced by the Lord Jesus?”

Several members of the congregation went forward, surrounding the priest with looks on their faces ranging from anguish to ecstasy, arms raised in supplication. They cried out their desire to be saved. Two of them sank to their knees, weeping with emotion. The priest laid his hands on their heads, muttering words of hope and support. In an apparent trance, one woman threw open her wrap-over blouse, revealing large pendulous breasts. She begged the Lord to take her into His bosom. One of the other preachers went to stand behind her, wrapping his arms round her, caressing her breasts and nipples. She moaned out loud. Another followed suit, until three women were bare breasted, their nipples being fondled by the clergy. When the priest raised his arms high, calling out “Hear the words of the Lord,” the congregation fell silent, bowing their heads. He spoke a prayer for all those present, for their loved ones and for the dear departed. Those in need of spiritual release should go into the knave where the clergy would comfort them. Shula was surprised şişli escort to see her mother make her way towards the knave, and followed her. The three women who had bared their breasts were each wrapped in a white cloak by members of the clergy, all of them attractive, fairly young men. Their white robes helped to give them a look of purity and innocence. There were four men amongst the group. Shula was astonished to see that they were all in a state of sexual arousal. Bulges strained at the fabric of their trousers. They were handed wrap-over white cloaks which they adorned. Hidden by the cloaks, the men and women slipped out of their own clothes. These were handed to the clerics.

Two older clerics came in, one with an incense holder, its aromatic smell filling the air. The other with a sceptre. The priest stood by a low altar, covered in a richly embroidered linen cloth, ornate candle-sticks at either end. Soft music was being played somewhere. The whole atmosphere was erotic.

The priest spoke quietly and seriously.

‘The spirit of Jesus Christ is within us. We are his servants. The Lord in his great wisdom endowed us with the means of loving each other. It is no sin to cherish the joy of the flesh, for it is the Lord‘s wish that we should honour our bodies, refreshing them with a peacefulness of body and soul, that we might, with quiet mind, honour His name, thankful for His goodness and mercy.’

Two of the clergy came forward, one with a silver salver of small pills. The other held a silver chalice of red liquid. The three women approached in turn, taking a purple pill and swallowing it with a sip from the chalice. They then stood in line to the left of the altar. The four men followed, repeating the ritual, standing in line to the right of the altar.

The priest came to the front, facing the altar. ‘We pray to Almighty God that he bless the union of these, his servants, endowing them with peace of mind, in His name. Amen.’

The first woman stepped to the altar. She held her arms upwards in supplication, looking towards the roof. The cleric with the sceptre touched her forehead, breasts and groin with it before the woman fell forward to bend over the altar. The first man parted the opening of his robe. Shula watched in amazement as she caught a glimpse of his erect cock before it was masked by the cleric. The sceptre anointed his forehead, his nipples and the tip of his cock. Another came with a bowl and cloth, bathing the penis with it. The priest intoned, “Bless, O Lord, the organs of your servants, that they may do your bidding. Endow them with your holy light and lead them to the fulfillment of your spirit.”

The man then approached the groaning woman from behind, lifted the hem of the woman’s robe, and pressed himself into her. She gave a long moan of joy. Shula realised to her surprise, that she was being fucked! During the action, the priest muttered prayers. The group stood round with heads bowed, hands clasped in front of them. This, Shula decided, was to hide the erections beneath their robes. The couple on the altar gave voice to their feeling, praising God, thanking him for his gifts. When the woman screamed out her alleluia, she was thanking God for her orgasm. When the man cried alleluia shortly after, it was in thanks for his plentiful ejaculation.

The ritual was repeated twice more, with the priest offering up the same prayer beforehand. When it came to the turn of the fourth man, he approached the altar as the women had done before him. But after raising his arms high, he remained standing. Then he turned to face the others. Beneath his robe, it was clear that his cock was straining. Stiff and jerking with lust. One of the clergy approached behind him, slowly taking the cloak at the shoulders. The robe was slipped over his body to leave him standing naked before the altar. Arms raised high in supplication, the full might of his phallus were revealed to all. One of the clergy stood before him, kneeling, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. After a few moments, the cleric inclined his head onto the cock, taking it deep into his mouth. From the movement of his head Shula knew that the cleric was lovingly gobbling the young man. The cry of alleluia, and the lurch of the loins, announced the ejaculation into the cleric’s mouth.

‘Take this offering, O Lord, in thy holy name.’

The priest indicated that he wanted Shula and her mother to remain, whilst the others filed out, quietly thanking the clergy by embracing each of them warmly.

‘Please, feel free to sit down.’ The three of them sat together and the priest explained that his religion did not preclude the worship of Christ through the adoration of the body. Having endowed humans with the ability to enjoy the act of love, it would be an act of disloyalty to Him to ignore it. So much aggression and anger in the young, he argued, was due to physical frustration. The well-being of the mind and soul, depended very largely on the well-being of the body. To repress feelings of desire was to encourage anger and frustration. Physical satisfaction was God’s way of relieving that tension within us. Most of the women in his congregation, he explained, had become part of the family of the Lord Jesus, through himself, the Lord’s chosen agent. Through the priest, the Holy Trinity had entered the body of the women, some more than once, to become a part of his chosen family. Each evening, after the service, some of the congregation met together in friendship and love, to celebrate the union of the flesh and to worship the body, in His name.

He then asked Shula if she was still a virgin? Too amazed by this revelation, Shula nodded.

‘Then you are eligible to become a bride of Christ,’ he told her. ‘It is a beautiful service in which the love of Jesus is poured into you, through his chosen agent. Your virginity is sacrificed to God for you to become one of his chosen, guaranteed a place in heaven at his feet when your turn comes to leave the confines of this earth.’

Shula’s mother turned to her with gleaming eyes, moist with tears of exultation.’ Do it,’ she whispered.

‘But not now. Not today. You need to prepare. I shall instruct you first and, when you are ready to receive the holy spirit, I shall arrange the ceremony.’

‘And me?’ asked her mother. The priest looked at her kindly, smiling.

‘You are in sore need, particularly so soon after your loss. Come!’ It was a kindly request.

He stood and led Shula’s mother to the altar. There they knelt and prayed together. Shula didn’t hear the prayer but it clearly affected her mother, who was still an attractive lady, if on the plump side. Shula watched open mouthed as the priest stood behind her kneeling mother, removing her bodice and bra whilst intoning a soothing prayer. Helping her to stand, the priest turned her round to face him. Stroking her heavy breasts, he raised his face.

‘Bless the flesh of this lady, your newest recruit to the Kingdom of Heaven. Give her joy in her heart to overcome her recent loss. Fill her with thy mercy and Holy Spirit.’

Towards the end of the prayer, he had unfastened her skirt, allowing it to fall to the ground. Kneeling before her, he bowed his head in silent prayer whilst drawing down her knickers, leaving her standing naked before him. It was all done with the utmost decorum.

Standing once more, the priest gently eased her body backwards.

‘Lean against the holy altar for support. Relax. Open your body ready to receive the love of God in your personal secret shrine, endowed in his wisdom.’

Propping herself against the edge of the altar, legs spread wide, face lifted to heaven, Shula’s mother cried out. ‘Take me into thy bosom, O Lord Jesus.’

As she cried out, the priest sprinkled holy water over her loins. “Let the Holy Spirit enter into thy servant,” Opening his robes, the priest thrust deep into her fully aroused vagina. Shula turned her face away. She couldn’t watch her own mother being violated by the white-robed priest.

Shula came to be under the spell of the priest. He was plausible and persuasive. Kind and sympathetic. She would visit him for private tuition twice each week, listening to his arguments for the adoration of the body, and through the body, to reach out for Christ. He finally persuaded her that to become a bride of Christ was the ultimate honour for any young virgin. There was never any attempt by him to molest her in any of these lessons, though it eventually became necessary during the tuition for him to expose his genitals to her. Although the penis was no stranger to her eyes, this was her first sight of a fully developed penis at such close quarters. Shula’s eyes widened at the sight of it. It really was a beautiful penis. Hard and stiff, ready for her inspection. The priest explained that it was his penance to have an almost permanently erect phallus, in God’s name. Only after the holy act of fornication was he allowed a brief respite from the stiffness, he said. It was an embarrassment to him at times, but it was His will that it should be so. To be always ready to perform God’s will. The pubic curls were like interlaced strands of gold. Glittering in the sunlight, they were like a halo glowing round the base of his penis. A truly holy weapon. Shula fell in love the penis – the idol of God. Mankind’s supreme power.

There was no threat in any of these lessons. During one of them, having careful examined the solid, pale shaft, crazed with light blue veins, Shula asked how it was possible for such a thick shaft to penetrate the small orifice of a woman. Although she had watched fornication at a distance, she was ignorant of the means of penetration.

‘Show me,‘ he said softly.

Of course, the time had to come when she had to show him her own genitals. But she had no worries about it. She gladly removed her knickers and removed her skirt to expose her own blonde curls and wrinkled, pink folds to his examination. He reached forward, opened her thighs wide, bending her knees to get a clear view. Her anatomy was examined with great delicacy and seriousness. Gently parting the labia, he peered into the now wet orifice.

‘There! Everything is normal.’ he explained. ‘Never be concerned about the secretions from your vulva,’ he told her. ‘That is one of God’s masterstrokes. For it is that which allows the reception of the man’s phallus. it is necessary to lubricate the passage, for ease of comfort and enjoyment. To allow the thick shaft to enter into your body. Don’t worry, your folds of flesh will stretch and open out like petals to allow penetration without pain. These secretions are merely a sign that your body is ready for penetration. Ready to enter into the joy of holy copulation. And the small bud at the top will give you untold joy.’

Then he asked her if she played with herself to orgasm? Blushing at the admission, she nodded.

‘That is no sin. It is a preparation for you to learn how to enjoy the holy union when the time comes. To reach out for blessed fulfillment.’ She was worried that he might ask if she would demonstrate. But he didn’t. He sensed her embarrassment, and merely gazed at her open groin, relishing the sight of the seat of every woman’s secret happiness.

When Shula asked if all men had a similar shaft of beauty, he promised to satisfy her curiosity. Two of the clergy were due to arrive at the church to prepare for evening service. The priest invited them to display themselves to Shula. She was taken aback at the drooping softness of them. They hung from their nest of golden curls, harmless and sleeping.

‘But it’s not like yours at all!’ The priest and clerics laughed at her disappointment.

‘Watch,‘ he said. As the men fondled themselves, Shula’s eyes bulged in disbelief. The tubes of flesh swelled up and stiffened before her eyes. It was then she saw that in most respects, there was little difference. Though the priest’s golden phallus was the grandest.

One evening, shortly after that, Shula was told that she was ready to see the holy spirit leave him, which would be his part in the culmination of the act of worship. He sat open legged before opening the folds of his robe. She was asked to study his ready penis in detail. Encouraged to pay homage by planting a kiss on the tip of the holy staff. She learned about the testicles and their part in the sexual cycle.

‘Thy staff and rod, they comfort me,’ he explained, ‘is an indication by implication that the Bible clearly expects mankind to seek and enjoy comfort from the erect penis.’

He slowly worked his shaft up and down in his palm, showing Shula the working of the foreskin, explaining the significance of the movement. Encouraged by him, she took hold of it herself, copying his movement. His calmness began to desert him as his loins twitched and jerked. The spasms became more pronounced, his breathing laboured.

‘Now,’ he gasped, ‘you are about to witness the coming of the Holy Spirit.’ His groin muscles tightened, the buttocks flexed. ‘Watch the result of that stimulation of the penis.’ Shula stared in awe at the jets of starchy liquid suddenly spurted from the end of it. Each jerk of his loins gushed forth globs of it, spraying over her wrist and arm, until the muscular spasms subsided.

The opportunity arose for Shula to witness the ceremony of bride of Christ. A member of the group wanted her daughter to find the salvation of Christ, to secure her place in heaven. The girl was seventeen and never been touched. The priest invited Shula to attend, to verify that the ritual was an uplifting experience, not to be frightened of. Also attending the ceremony were the girl’s mother and aunt, her father and two brothers. The three members of the clergy were there. All the guests were in white, the women wearing veils, hoods for the men. The side chapel was decorated with masses of spring flowers. Tall candelabra were burning. The sting of incense hung heavily in the air. A simple low altar, in the shape of a cross, was laid with a soft bolster along its length, facing the guests. At each end of the crosspiece was a single gold candlestick with a white candle burning. The organ was playing softly, people knelt in private prayer.

The daughter was escorted into the chapel on the arm of her father. She was in a traditional bridle gown, closely buttoned down the front. She was heavily veiled with a crown of daisies. They approached the step in front of the altar. The priest then appeared from a side door, adorned in a gorgeous white cloak, richly embroidered in gold and silver, a wide stole around his neck hanging almost to the floor. He held a prayer book in one hand and a golden sceptre in the other.

He began the standard wedding ceremony. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here …’ eventually the changes became evident.

‘Wilt thou take Jesus Christ as thy only husband, to love and to cherish, and to obey no other whilst you do live. To join him in holy wedlock until death reunites you in his Kingdom of Heaven?’

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