The rain beat a muted hymn upon the stained glass windows of the church, its solemn rhythm echoing eerily around the almost empty chambers. A lone figure, dressed in a long, grey trench coat and hood, made its way down the wide aisle between the pews, marble flooring clicking in time with the rain beneath a pair of black stiletto heels.
Miriam Widows kept her chestnut-colored eyes downcast as she reached a delicate fist out to announce her presence at the Priest's chambers. The intricately carved door swung open to absolute darkness, a mute invitation. Hugging the woolen coat tighter about her shoulders she leaned forward, her feet uncooperatively remaining on the far side of the threshold.
A deep voice resonated from the darkness, "Enter."
Heel-clad feet obeyed and carried the small woman forward, muffled now as they transitioned from stone to plush carpeting. Miriam's mind conjured up a picture of the offices. The dark woods and emerald green accents hidden in the darkness were accented by a deep burgundy carpet in a loose pile that beckoned the knees of many worshipers. There would be a large presidents-style desk in the middle of the room, accompanied by a leather wing-back chair. Behind the desk were shelves and shelves of bibles, hymns, and religious pamphlets. Miriam stopped in the center of the room, facing the direction of the desk as she waited. Yes, she thought, this was a room which commanded subservience. This was a masculine room.
The voice returned, bouncing around the chamber so that Miriam was unsure where the speaker was. She could see him though, in her mind's eye, sitting tall and proud behind that desk, his long fingers steepled atop an aged copy of the Holy Bible. "Did you do as I asked?"
Miriam's voice was sweet, hesitant, "Yes."
A light flickered on, illuminating the space in which Miriam stood, and she could see that her mental image of the speaker was correct. Priest Michaels sat tall and stiff in his wing-backed chair, wearing the collar of his calling beneath ebony waves and looking down at the young lady with disdain clearly showing on his face. His hands were indeed angled above the Bible and Miriam let her eyes rest on the many heavy rings that adorned his fingers. She waited, trembling, as the powerful man raked his strikingly blue eyes down her body.
"Remove your coat... and the hood."
Miriam nodded, flicking her eyes up to meet his before quickly dropping to the floor again. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on the coat, carefully undoing each one without parting the folds of the fabric. When the last buttons were released from their holes she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She had to do this.
The heavy wool folded upon itself in a pool around her stilettos. Priest Michaels' mouth twitched up at the corner as another part of his body twitched in response to the sight of the now-naked woman standing before him. She released her hood and piles of auburn hair tumbled about her ivory shoulders, dragging those intelligent blue eyes downward, towards the pink tips of her firm breasts and across the flat expanse of stomach to where another set of curls nestled between her thighs.
Miriam's body flushed under such intense scrutiny and she waited silently, chest heaving, for further commands. Priest Michaels made her wait, inspecting every inch of smooth flesh before him and then twirling one finger around so that he could admire the backside of the nervous woman in front of him before he spoke. "Ms. Widows, do you know why you are here?"
Miriam nodded, feeling the flush burn deeper as she spoke, "Yes Father Michaels."
One dark eyebrow arched upward, "Say it."
"I am here to serve punishment for my sins, so that I may be forgiven of them and may learn to better serve the Lord, our Father."
Father Michaels nodded, a brief flash of excitement passing over his face, "What are your sins?"
Miriam shook like the prey she was, her eyes darting about the room as she responded, "Vanity, prudishness, provocation. I am a tease, Father."
The priest stood up behind his desk, his broad frame towering over the small woman as he slowly stalked toward her. He circled around the woman, coming up behind her petite frame and leaning forward to inhale her sweet scent. His breath was hot and threatening upon her neck, "And..."
Miriam gulped, her body shivering in awareness of the male behind her even as her mind cursed him for trapping her like this, "And...and for lying about my sins in the house of God."
SMACK!
Miriam's body jerked forward and away from the stinging blow even as Father Michaels pulled back to deliver a second one. She tried to run from the pain, crying out each time his palm struck her round cheeks, but the Priest wrapped his other hand around her upper arm and held her tight, his deep voice rising above her cries and the sounds of punished flesh.
"You deserve this, Ms. Widows. You have proudly flaunted your God-given assets like a whore while behaving all the while like a nun. You cannot have it both ways Ms. Widows, and I think we both know which path you have chosen."
Miriam's flesh was hot and red beneath his hands and she tugged wildly against him trying to escape the spanking, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "No. Please, stop it. I'll be a good girl. I'll be good, please! I'm sorry Father, I'm sorry!"
