The Abbey of Disillusion

Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.

-Romans 1:24-25

May 23, 1933

Mother Superior is a Wolf in sheep's clothing; therefore I must be as a viper in the grass. Most of the Sisters of the abbey don't lock their doors, none imagine their fellows as thieves. I took advantage of this today by entering Mother Superior's room while she was leading prayers. Nothing unusual greeted me when I first opened the door, in fact her quarters were remarkably plain, as though in imitation of the Franciscans. I wondered if she imagined herself humble.

There was a diary on the simple desk in the corner and while I peaked at it I saw her records where more simple notes than a chronicle of events. Flipping through the pages I saw most were mundane, having to do with matters related to the running of the convent. There were a few that caught my eye:

"The man is a delight, and I thank Shub-Niggurath for bringing him to me."

"The female Stragtelvar have two vaginal openings, this makes me quite curious to see the male."

"Einstein was right, space is relative."

It was in fact this last entry that intrigued me the most for I wondered what prompted its writing and an idea grew in my head that I would investigate later, but I put it aside to continue my search. The Mother Superior's room, simple as it was, did not take long to explore. There was no key of such type that might open Dumonte's cell, and I realized that a search of her office would be next.

I will have to wait for such an opportunity tomorrow, in the meantime I began to walk the halls, counting my steps. I returned to my room where I have just drawn a diagram of the second and third floors. It confirmed what I already suspected.

There is not enough space in the convent for the stairwell leading to the dungeon.

May 24, 1933

Margaret interrupted my plans to infiltrate the Mother Superior's office today. She came by in the morning with Lily and invited me to breakfast. After this meal I could not escape the clutches of social circumstance. I was positively dragged from breakfast to prayer meeting to apostolate work in Arkham.

This last was a first for me. As I sat on the back of the bus driving to Arkham, sandwiched tightly between Margaret and Lily, my stomach churned nervously. Both of them wore the habits of Providence Abbey, elegant attire that marked them as full Sisters, while I wore the simple dress of a novitiate. I also knew as we drove to Arkham that we would be among my former clientele. I dreaded the possible ridicule that could be hurled at me, or worse the Sisters who graciously took me in.

The work, I discovered, was with the children of Arkham State Orphanage. They were a depressing sight, but still seem to retain some of their innocence, and fortunately no one there knew me. Afterwards instead of returning straight to the convent Margaret suggested we see a talkie.

That talkie was 'Safe in Hell' a film which I can only describe as deplorable. It was full of sexual innuendo and when I realized that the main character was a prostitute I cast a sideways glance at Margaret, but she made no indication that anything was amiss. Indeed afterwards on the journey home Lily seemed enthused by it. As we parted ways for bed Margaret looked at me with a wicked smile. I looked down, feigning the shy school girl, and glanced at her in a manner that always enticed the men.

I believe it had the same effect on Margaret, and she nodded silently to me, concluding a conversation Lily was completely unaware of. I waited until the convent had grown quiet and proceeded to her room. As soon as I had tapped quietly on her door it flung open.

"Come on we need to hurry." Margaret said to me in an excited whisper.

She grabbed my hand and led me, bewildered, through the halls, at length we came to Lily's room.

I mouthed silently, 'What are we doing."

Margaret shushed me, and leaning into my ear whispered, "She talks to herself when she does it." She then slowly put her ear to the door, motioning for me to do the same.

At first there was nothing, then I heard a sharp intake of breath and Lily's voice, "Don't, don't..."

Margaret, her face mere inches from mine, broke into a delighted smile. I was confused for a long moment, and then I understood. I heard Lily groan, "Don't take me, uh, you're so strong... ahhhh, Mr. please..."

Lily was masturbating on the other side of the door! The girl, so innocent and unworldly, was touching herself in lust. I tried to picture what she was doing, her dainty form, naked on her bed, the smooth soft skin of her legs glistening with sweat by the light of a few candles. She had said that she had joined the convent at sixteen, and she'd been here for years. She must have had to learn how to pleasure herself without even a man to watch her. I thought that perhaps she was only pawing at her cunt, ignorant of how to work her clam, chest huffing with need but unable to find release.

Margaret stood and pulled me up as well. She pushed me back, motioning for me to stay. Then, brazenly, she knocked on the door. A startled cry sounded from within as Lily realized her plight. I put my hands over my mouth, shocked, but worse was to come, for Margaret then reached down and grabbed the door handle and

the Sisters don't lock their doors.

"Lily I was just, oh! Lily! What are you doing?" Margaret's feigned shock would have made me laugh if I hadn't been frozen with terror.

A stumbling sound came from within the room as Lily no doubt tried to quickly hide her sinful activities. I heard Margaret's voice, comforting Lily, telling her it was okay. The door closed and I rushed to it, placing my ear against the door. There were soft whisperings, and I was greatly frustrated by my inability to hear what was going on. At length it grew quiet, and I could hear my own heartbeat for a time.

Soon their voices raised, and I caught the words.

"Would you do it for me, Sister Margaret?"

"Lily! Really you'd want... me to touch you?"

"I'll close my eyes and pretend you're a man, a big strong man, and you're about to ravish me."

"Hmmm," I heard Sister Margaret, pretending to be unsure. "Only if you swear that you'll never tell anyone."

There was a pause, then:

"Ah! You can't, you... don't... touch me there... uggh... Good Sir... this is a sin..." My mouth watered as I imagined Margaret rubbing Lily's tight young pussy. I pictured myself kneeling between the young woman's legs, yes I'd show her something sinful!

"It's just us," Margaret said, "You don't need to worry. Look you didn't even know how to do it. I'll just show you. You need to rub around the sides, and when you're ready... this is the spot."

"Uh, uh, uhhh, ohhhh! God oh, God, oh God!" Lily was panting loudly, I looked up and down the hall. Praise Jesus her room was fairly isolated.

Listening to Margaret touch Lily for the first time was incredibly erotic. My own cunt was crying for attention, but I was horribly exposed in the hallway. At first sense ruled me, despite the frustration and desire for released building in my chest, but then I heard Lily's voice cut off, followed by the

pop

of lips sucking on something and pulling away.

Oh my God where is she kissing her?

Margaret was corrupting her, taking this sweet child of God and showing her the forbidden fruit. I knew first hand how delicious it was, how shamefully addicting the touch of another woman can be, especially Margaret. She's so sensual, my Margaret, that she could have lined up half the preachers in Georgia to fornicate despite the fires of Hell burning clear in the distance.

I yearned to be in the room with her, but Margaret had invited me to listen, not participate. I'm ashamed to admit I'm tied around her little finger, and I'll do anything she tells me. I'll lick her sweety asshole, eat her pussy, suck her toes, help her debase the youngest, sweetest Sister in the convent.

Anything.

I reached under my clothes, fingers circling and dancing through the folds of my sex, embracing Margaret's ownership of me, I whispered her name in the empty hallway as madness overtook me, frigging myself frantically against Lily's door while I heard her coming from Margaret's ministrations.

I hardly realized Margaret was coming out until she was actually dragging me to my feet. "Lord Jesus, what are you doing? Get up harlot!" She led me, sweaty and disheveled, back to her room, pushing me to my knees and practically ripping off her habit.

"God that little tramp got me so worked up, did you hear it? Did you hear her cute little voice when she came like a geyser? Come on now, time for you to get me off." She hissed at me.

"Yes Sister!" I complied immediately, climbing up her legs and burying my face in her snatch. God it's so soft, sweat warm blankets embracing me at the end of a hard day, I wanted to wrap myself within her folds, and I licked her in long, loving strokes that started at the base of her vaginal opening and parted the sea of her flesh until her clit fell off the tip of my tongue.

"Enjoyed that didn't you, filthy pervert?" She said. I nodded as I sucked on her labia. Sweet Lord the feeling of her wetness on my lips! I clang to her legs like a woman tossed overboard, with one buoyant object to save her.

"That little tramp sprayed like a firehose when she popped, you wouldn't believe it possible if you didn't see it... ughhh yes lick me... I think her cunt might be the softest thing I've ever felt, like a feather made flesh." I pictured Lily's cunt showering my face with its juices as she came, warm and thick like a heavy rain, Margaret madly twirling the Sister's pearl in her fingers as we indoctrinated her into our own cult of depravity.

"Do you think she'd let you lick her pussy? She is a proper woman, not sure she'd want a whore like you... finger yourself... spread your legs more let me see, good... did I say stop?"

Margaret enjoyed my attentions for a moment more before ordering me to the bed. I lay back, licking my lips and preparing myself for what I knew was coming, what we both wanted. She climbed over me onto the bed, kissing my breast. I jerked as she gently bit my nipples, a quick stab of pain, somehow exciting my lions.

"Ah! Sister!"

"Is that too hard?" She asked me.

I thought for a moment, "Harder." Smirking, Margaret sucked and bit my nipples until they grew sore, arching from the sweet abuse. Eventually I begged her to stop, "Sure," She said, "What do you want me to do instead?"

I spoke it so softly that I could not hear it myself, and Margaret leaned towards me.

"What was that? You want me to go?"

I shook my head and tried again, making my perverse request, "Sit on my face... let me lick you."

"Take a deep breath, time to give you what you want dyke." Margaret kissed me, biting my lower lip. I don't know what came over me, but I said it, as she kissed me, as she paused to take a breath, I said it.

"I love you, Margaret!"

Once said my breath caught in my throat. It was too much, too far I was sure. Her fingers slowly squeezed my hair, pulling my head back, emphasizing her dominance as she looked down on me.

"It's SISTER Margaret." She said.

"Yes... Sister Margaret." I meekly whimpered as she pinched one of my sore nipples.

Then she kissed me again, and kissed my cheek, softly trailing her tongue to my ear, teasing my earlobe for a moment before whispering, "I love you too."

Tears well up in my eyes and a sob escaped me. Sister Margaret pushed me down hard, commandingly.

"Now eat my cunt you dirty lesbian." She ordered me. My arms wrapped around her beautiful thighs as they covered my face, her cunt dripping onto my lips. She leaned back and I licked at the taut skin between her asshole and vagina, then up over her vulva, wiggling under the hood of her little pearl, finding it and just

devouring

it. I gazed lovingly up through the valley of her breast at her face, eyes closed as she savored my utter devotion to her sex. Every grunt and groan she made delighted me, reinforcing my desire to do more, do better, make her squeal in ecstasy.

Margaret used me for hours, riding my face until late into the night. My tongue is sore, and my neck stiff, but I'm so, so satisfied. I love her!

I love Sister Margaret!

But I haven't forgotten the night I lost track of her in my wing. I dare not ask her, I'm too afraid of the answer.

May 25, 1933

This morning Margaret came by to warn me, the bishop would visit today. I believe that she meant to warn me that we must be on our best behavior, but I realized it was a perfect opportunity to search the Mother Superior's office. The abbess must meet the bishop at the train station on Arkham's Northside, this would take her at least two hours.

I saw Lily at breakfast, and I am concerned. She seemed a bit disheveled, while myself and Margaret are committed conspirators, integrating our affair into our daily rituals while giving onlookers little cause to question, Lily is visibly conflicted after simply letting Margaret frig her to one orgasm. I asked her what was wrong, and she claimed nothing. I told her she could come see me any time. With luck if she confesses to someone it will be me, and I can talk her down.

I found the Mother Superior's office unlocked, as expected. There was no immediate sign of the arcane objects that I had witnessed in the room previously at first, but as I searched I began to find them. The painting of Saint Augustus on her door, when removed, revealed another painting, this on the door itself.

The image was remarkable, done in the style of the impressionist, and conveyed the idea of a thing very vividly, if not it's concrete form. A great beast was the central figure, but it was unlike any beast I have ever seen in life. It had the legs of a goat, and wings. It had far too many eyes, and mouths. It appeared to be birthing other creatures, monstrous abominations of every description pouring forth upon a landscape of dark woods, the kneeling figures of people who seemed to worship the thing scattered among the trees. Beneath the image were the words, "The Black Goat."

A box in the corner contained numerous items whose functions I was unsure of, but most interesting was the book. In her desk drawers I discovered a book, ancient in origin and written, not printed, in Latin. Throughout the book were pages someone had inserted, translations and notes. I saw also arcane symbols, and after shifting through the book for several minutes I noticed that one entry had far more notes than any other.

This page of the book prominently displayed a strange symbol, which, while drawn on the page, seem to move and have three dimensions about it. I wondered if it was some new painting style but as I blinked, attempting to understand how the artist created this effect, it made my head spin. I studied the notes closely, they claimed it was part of a spell, which it referred to as 'Cogere.' This spell would make a person open to suggestion. A person under this spell, the notes claimed, would do almost anything short of acts with obvious immediately catastrophic consequences.

The notes detailed how humans could tap into powerful, otherworldly forces, which our ancestors called magic. This power could be granted by beings referred to as 'outer gods' such as 'Yogg-Sothoth.' I was so intrigued that I didn't notice the time pass. My heart sank as I heard her voice coming, and I knew that discovery was certain. I had lingered too long and now would be found out. I wracked my brain for a plan but only one ploy come to mind, one reason I might be secretly waiting in her office.

"Caroline?" The abbess asked, surprised to see me when she opened the door.

I stood, eyes downcast, hand clasped in subservience. I crossed the room slowly, raising my face.

"What is it, Caroline?" The abbess asked, concern in her voice.

Then I kissed her. I made sure it was an uncertain kiss, nervous and tentative. The Mother Superior didn't respond at first, but when she did she strongly grabbed my hips, pushing her tongue into my mouth. The kiss lingered for thirty seconds or so, and when she pushed me back I did not need to feign a bit of breathlessness. She reached up and took my head in her hands.

"Not right now my child. The bishop is here. He is going to come in this room, and when he does you will act proper, do you understand?"

I nodded, and she whispered in my ear, "Come to my room tonight, at nine."

A knock came at the door. "Come in!" She shouted.

The bishop walked in. He was tall, and all in black, with olive skin. When he spoke, I knew he was a Spaniard. "Is this her?" He asked.

"Yes, Ms. Lapham, meet Bishop Santoro."

"Good afternoon, Bishop." I said. I was entirely unsure what the formalities of meeting a visiting bishop are.

"The abbess has told me so much about you, young Caroline, do you mind if I call you Caroline?" He asked me, to which I agreed.

We made small talk, and he asked me to accompany him on his tour of the grounds. We walked through the abbey, where I became largely a third wheel, listening to the abbess and bishop discuss the daily going ons. After a time, the bishop announced that he would begin taking confessions. I learned that several times a year an "extraordinary" confessor is made available to the sisters of the abbey, so that they have an outsider to confess to.

He invited me to be first, but when I sat inside the confession booth, I could say nothing. After a long moment of silence the bishop spoke, asking what I wanted to confess. I told him I wasn't sure.

"Congratulations." He said.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"On being without sin."

We both laughed at this, and after a moment I said, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

"Trust the Lord's mercy, he will help guide you."

"It has been two months since my last confession." I began, "I have impure thoughts, lustful. I distrust some of the Sisters... I have delayed doing what's right."

"May God, who watches all his flock, give you the strength to resist temptation." He replied. "Lustful thoughts... I should expect so. Do the other Sisters give you grief for your past?"

"Sometimes." I admitted, though I could not speak under what circumstances.

"Remind them of John 8:7." He counseled me.

It was later when he came to my room. My stomach twisted in knots immediately when he came into my room, seeming entitled to simply step inside and close the door. Alone together with this strange foreign man I felt suddenly nervous. I flashed back to some of the men I'd been with in Arkham. "There's something I want to give you." He said.

My heart sank, I knew, I just knew, what he wanted to give me.

And then he pulled a small statue from his pocket, perhaps 4 inches tall, it was a beautiful, hand painted figure of a woman in robes. On its base was inscribed, "Mary Magdalene."

"I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you." He recited. "Do not be ashamed of your past, Caroline. You are reborn in Jesus Christ, and that isn't the person you are anymore."

My voice cracked, and I wanted to tell him everything, about the Mother Superior, about me and Margaret, to ask for his help for Dumonte, but I just couldn't, there was too much risk. Too often I've seen women called hysterical for making bold claims, he could have gone straight to the abbess and reported that my sanity was in question.

At the appointed hour I went to Mother Superior's room, I had to, in order to maintain the charade. She opened the door as soon as I had made the tentative tapping. She was in a red nightgown, and invited me in. I looked about the room, she had a candle burning on her dresser, and I saw two wineglasses there as well. She offered me one, surprising me, which I drank.