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With Religious Fervor

One

She would never admit it, but she loved working for the Church. Not because of any real sense of religious zeal, "higher-calling" or a great deal of faith. It was because of assignments like the one she'd just been given.

She sat at her desk in the small, bare rectory and studied the dossier of her latest subject. This one was unusual. The subject was male. Sister Dawn's eyebrows rose as she studied the information before her. The subject wasn't a military man, nor a member of some police department or intelligence agency. He was simply a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Corporate espionage took place on a daily basis, but the general public didn't know that. One corporation was always going after another's secrets. Everything had been privatized: medicine, the military, jurisprudence, even the police. Governments didn't really exist anymore. They'd all been bought out, and eventually replaced by the Corporations. As the value of corporate entities increased, the value of human life diminished just as quickly.

Eventually, the only organization of any kind that had the financial and political power to stand against the Corporations, was the Catholic Church. They became the unofficial liaison between the Corporations and the regular people of the world. The Holy See, the political structure of the Church became the "world government" and this took over such things as city maintenance, health, education, welfare and even the police. Precincts were replaced with diocese. Officers were replaced by priests. Instead of a badge, people began to respect the Collar, and rosary beads were replaced with sidearms.

Outside the Corporations and the Church, the most lucrative professions were computer design, street crime and corporate spying. So a raid on the Research and Development Section of Hokkaido Global Industries was nothing new. As one of the leading medical research companies in the world, Hokkaido was often a target for smaller companies who wanted to get ahead of the game. As she read in the Incident Report, the subject, a musician named Irwin James was cutting through an alley behind one of the Hokkaido's research labs, on his way to a street corner where he'd been able to make moderate amounts of tips as a street musician.

According to his statement, James was walking through the alley, when several men broke out of the building through a metal door, and knocked him to the ground accidentally. These men all managed to escape from Hokkaido's security personnel. When the investigators arrived, all that was left of the security guards were a few piles of ash. No one is sure exactly what happened. So far, James had refused to say anything else. That's when Sister Dawn was called in.

In this day and age, where Priests walked a beat in the urban sprawl, it was rare for ordained nuns to hold jobs outside of Church Administration. For one thing, their attire would have to be altered. Except for those who worked in the Vatican, priests hadn't worn cassocks for generations. To expect a nun to wear a habit on patrol was ludicrous. Still, that very point was argued vigorously amongst the College of Cardinals in Rome. Also, it was simply seen as too dangerous for a nun to walk a beat. However, it was a slight majority who eventually won out, and nuns began to patrol beside the priests.

Sister Dawn had patrolled sections of Chicago through most of her twenties, and had made Detective at 29. After three years of that, she was made Lead Investigator on a case where a Priest was murdered by what looked to be Security Troops from Illinois Metalworks, who had built most of the skyscrapers downtown. She was able to prove conclusively that it was actually street punks who were responsible.

Sister Dawn-Margaret Martinez was summoned to New York to meet with His Eminence, Cardinal Lucas San Marcos, Head of the Opus Dei, the Church's Investigative Service, though in fact they were more like Secret Police. She was offered a position as an investigator, and after another year, was promoted to Lead Interrogator for America's entire Eastern Seaboard. She was trained in the latest techniques of information gathering, as well as information extraction. During that time, they had also investigated her. On the first day of her final week of training, she overheard two Bishops talking, and she gleaned information that no one outside the Opus Dei was permitted to know: the identity of the Cardinal's wife. Though priests and nuns were permitted to marry, thanks to a Papal Bull issued by His Holiness nearly a decade before, Cardinals were required to remain celibate. Not only had she received confirmation that His Eminence had a wife, but her location as well. She suspected why that information had been "leaked" to her, which was confirmed that night, when several men broke into her quarters, then beat and abducted her.

That last week was spent in a small room, lit by a single bulb which never went off. She was deprived of sleep, food and water, given various drugs, and abused physically and mentally, though never sexually. It was merely an exercise, and she knew it. She also knew the reason why. It was important that she be subjected to everything that she would be using against others. On Day Eight, she finally broke. She told them everything, including the fact that during the majority of her incarceration and torture, her panties were wet. Normally, that fact would have been cause for her immediate dismissal, if it weren't for her final confession. It wasn't the torture that aroused her, it was the thought that if she endured it, eventually she would become the one who administered the torture.

That night, she was called before the Cardinal again, and was given her new position: Grand Inquisitor of the Opus Dei. In the six years since that time, she had grown to adore her position. Her authority was second only to the Cardinal himself, and above him, His Holiness, the Pope. Except for a directive from either of those men, she could be denied nothing. Her orders could never be questioned. She quickly grew to adore the influence she had, the authority, and most of all, the power.

Now, she was being given a new diversion. A new subject, with information she needed, and he would talk. Oh, yes, he would talk. He would sing. He would scream, and beg. He would cry... for more. At the mere thought of it, her left hand slipped slowly into her lap, and pressed against the soft heat between her legs.

"No," she thought with a secret smile, "Time enough for that later."

*****

He awoke in darkness. As he regained consciousness, he began to gather as much information as he could. He was seated. His arms were tied or chained behind his back. His ankles were also bound, but not together. He was naked. He was cold. He could hear nothing, but he did smell something, like old cardboard or rotting wood.

He tried to speak, but he lapsed into a fit of coughing because his throat was dry. He could tell by the echo of his coughing that he was in a large room, most likely a warehouse of some sort. He wasn't gagged, so he assumed that whoever it was who had brought him here wanted him to talk.

He heard a door open, then close behind him. He heard footsteps, and then light burst into the room like an angry priest, looking to round up a group of rowdy drunks. He was able to make out the shadow of the person who had entered. Female. And nicely-built. The footsteps approached closer, then around to his right. She stopped in front of him. Suddenly, a light appeared over his head. He grimaced for a moment, then his eyes began to adjust. It was a spotlight, directly overhead, giving off only a cone of intense light which shone directly on him.

He could see only a slight movement in the darkness outside his circle, but the woman had started to walk around him again, this time to his left. She said nothing. She simply walked. She had made three complete orbits around him, never approaching the light, never saying a word.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice rasping and uncomfortable. "Why are you keeping me here?"

She continued to walk, still staying outside the cone of light, and otherwise silent.

"Look," he said, impatiently, "If you're with those men who knocked me down, I've told everything to the Church." The footsteps continued. "I don't know anything else." Another full circle by the woman.

He forced himself to remain calm, but he was getting irritated. If only this woman would tell him what she wanted, or at least who she was. He was nervous and cold. His arms were starting to cramp. She had continued circling him and she was right behind the chair again. She had to untie him.

"Damn you, let me go!"

Suddenly, he heard the soles of her boots scrape against the floor. She had turned, and was now walking directly toward him. He thought she might be about to untie him, when suddenly he felt a hand cover his mouth with a rag. The fumes were powerful and he got dizzy immediately. He was losing consciousness again. As his eyes lost focus, he saw her step around him. He saw the woman walk around to stand in front of him. He couldn't see details, but he noticed that she seemed to be wearing all black. He smelled leather mixed in with the fumes which were slowly knocking him out. She dropped a white cloth to the floor next to her, and then she leaned down to look directly at him.

Her black hair was long and glimmered in the harsh light. Her face was beautiful. Her lips were full, and sensual, her red lipstick gleaming. She said nothing. She only smiled, as everything went black.

*****

"He will be regaining consciousness within the hour, Your Grace," Sister Elizabeth reported.

Sister Dawn looked at the medical chart that Elizabeth had handed to her. She noticed that the subject was fit, though somewhat lacking in nutrition. No doubt this habit of playing music on street corners for change wasn't very lucrative. Still, she had ordered that he be given vitamin supplements along with the sedative that he'd been given the previous night, and that was being done.

At this point, she had declared that Phase One of his interrogation would be administered in The Theatre, a large laboratory where subjects were strapped to a table, needles inserted into the major veins of their arms and legs, and drugs administered as required. The control room was in the rear of the theatre, and a bank of computers monitored the subject's vital signs, EKG readings and Encephalograms. There were also a series of large video screens which were attached to the ceiling on maneuvering arms, specially designed to move smoothly and silently with the manipulation of switches in the Control Room. The ceiling, walls and floor were all blacked out completely, and the screens were the latest state-of-the-art video technology. If one were looking at a person on the screen, it appeared exactly as if the person were physically there.

Sister Dawn made notes on the chart, specifying which psychotropic drugs would be administered, in what dosage, and when. She handed the chart back to Elizabeth, and looked into the Theatre again. It was a marvel of technology, with its' video screens, and huge, programmable audio speakers, also state-of-the-art. Dawn turned and looked around the Control Room, and grinned as she saw the sisters who were on her research staff. All of them were her exact height and build. All seven of them could have been Dawn's actual siblings for their close resemblance. Rumors circulated wildly at first as to why Sister Dawn had chosen these women specifically. The last she'd heard, it was decided by the majority of rumormongers that Dawn was such an egomaniac, she wanted to be able to look at herself in a mirror, even if none were available. She was satisfied with that explanation, even if it was wrong... almost.

She saw a computer monitor indicate that the subject's pulse was increasing.

"Showtime," she grinned.

*****

His eyes opened with a flutter, and he let out a groan. He felt groggy, and still cold, but he was mostly tired. He wanted to move but he couldn't make his muscles obey him. He realized that he was lying down, and he was pretty sure he was nude. He tried to speak, but he could only moan weakly. His eyes felt strange. He could see nothing, but he could tell that his eyes were open. He tried to close them, and he couldn't. They were being held open by some kind of adhesive. For a moment, he started to panic, then suddenly, he felt a stab of cold in his left thigh. It wasn't painful, just surprising. A moment later, he felt himself calming down, though he hadn't tried to.

At the very limits of his vision, he saw a minuscule white dot. It seemed to grow closer, though he could hear nothing. It grew ever closer, slowly, just on the edge of his vision, and when it was close enough, he realized that it was a face. No neck or body, just a face. He recognized it as the face of the beautiful nun he'd seen before. His vision was a little blurry, but he recognized her easily.

"My name is Sister Dawn-Margaret Martinez, and I am the Grand Inquisitor of the Opus Dei."

Her voice was as lovely as her face, stark white, framed with black hair, dark eyes, and deep red lips the color of blood roses. Her lips were full and voluptuous. He felt himself wanting her, even though he was afraid she was about to have him killed.

"You are Irwin James. I know all about you. I know that you are a street musician, and that you can barely survive on the change you earn playing music on street corners."

He was offended by her remark, but he didn't have the energy to speak, much less argue.

"I also know that you had nothing to do with the raid on Hokkaido Global Industries. But you did see something, and we need information. You must understand that we don't want to hurt, nor detain you. But we need to know what the men looked like that you saw run from the building."

Her face was close now. He could touch her face easily if he could only move his arms. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to help her. That thought surprised him, as he was none-too-comfortable with the thought of the Church or anyone in it. But she was so beautiful...

"It's very important, and lives could be at stake. Can you help me? Please?"

He looked into her soulful eyes, and he wanted to tell her anything. But he didn't know what she wanted to know.

"Don't... remember..."

Her expression went stern and cold.

"That is unfortunate. What is even more unfortunate is that I must find out if you're lying. I can't afford any doubt. I must learn the truth."

Suddenly, he felt another stab of cold, this time in his right thigh. Almost instantly, his vision doubled and for a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head. When he was able to focus again, though it was just barely, he saw two images of "Sister-whatever"'s beautiful face.

"As I said," she began, her voice louder than before, "lives may be at stake. So it is imperative that you tell me the truth. What did you see when you were in that alley? You must tell me. You are unable to resist my orders. Tell me what you saw."

Suddenly, it was as if the two images of the nun were independent, and not his double-vision. There were two of her!

"You must tell me what you saw."

"You can't resist my commands."

"The men in the alley.'

"Describe them."

"Your will is not strong enough to resist."

"Tell me what you saw."

"You will cooperate."

"Obey."

"Tell me what you saw."

"Describe the men who knocked you down."

"Speak."

"Obey."

For another minute or so, the twin faces of the nun continued talking to him to get him to confess what he saw.

"C.. Can't tell. Don't know."

A moment later, the faces stopped speaking, and merely stared at him with irritation and disappointment. Slowly they faded away, until he was in utter darkness again. He lay there for a long time, though he had no idea how long that was.

Suddenly, a brilliant spiral appeared in front of him. The light was so bright he cried out, but he couldn't close his eyes to escape the light. He heard the nun's voice again, this time, loud and cruel.

"YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF FALLING DEEPLY INTO A TRANCE! YOU CANNOT TAKE YOUR EYES OFF THE SPIRAL! IT DRAWS YOU IN! IT DRAWS YOU TOWARD ITS CENTER AND YOU CANNOT RESIST IT! YOU ARE FALLING! FALLING! DEEPER! DEEPER! FALLING! DEEPER! FALLING! DEEPER!"

He tried desperately to keep himself conscious, but he couldn't help himself. He felt that he was indeed falling into the bright blue spiral, and he couldn't stop.

He felt something then, but it was strange, distant like it was happening to someone else. He couldn't feel himself being moved, but it felt like instead of lying on a cold table, he was lying on a soft bed, and that his head rested on something soft and warm. His head was resting on two soft pillows. Eventually, he heard the nun's voice again, but this time it was soft, and sensual.

"Pleasure..."

He gasped, as he felt a wave of pleasure move through his body, from his head to his groin.

"Whenever you hear me say the word, 'pleasure'..." He gasped again as another wave of delight rushed over him. "You will feel the same intense wave pass through you, only stronger each time."

He realized that it was as if he were laying in the nun's lap, and that his head was resting on her large breasts, her large, naked breasts. He heard her voice again, and it seemed that it was above him, that he was resting his head on her breasts and she was speaking.

"You are deep in a relaxing trance. You have nothing to fear. You have nothing to worry about. You are merely here to help, and to feel pleasure."

"Aaaooooooo..." he moaned with ecstasy.

"I don't want you to do anything but feel... and remember..."

He felt a hand softly begin to caress his right thigh, and he managed to roll his head to that side, and he saw the nun standing next to him. In the dim light, he could see that she was nude. Her large breasts were outlined in thin white light, and her pert nipples were displayed before him. He sighed as she moved her hand slowly and gently up his leg, stopping almost at his groin, then slowly moving her caress down to his shin, then slowly back up again.

"Just feel my touch. Feel my body as I touch you. Feel the pleasure..."

Again, he let out a langorious moan.

"Yes," she whispered. "Feel it. Just feel and remember."

Suddenly he heard her voice again, only this time coming from his right. He felt her hand on his left hip, and he looked over to see that she was rising up to stand next to him, the small amount of light gleaming on the outline of her breasts, and her bare waist.

"It feels so good to remember," she said. He turned and looked to his right, seeing the nun, then to his left and seeing her again. He was too groggy to try to figure it out. And their hands caressing his body was too distracting.

"You want to help me, don't you?" she asked from over his head again.

"Want to help," she whispered from his right.

"Feels so good to be helpful to me," she said from his left.

He felt her hands touch his shoulders from behind, and move slowly down over his chest, while her breasts pressed together underneath his head.

"So good..."

The nun on his right leaned toward him then, her face less than an inch away, her lips barely touching his as she whispered, "Deeper and deeper."

"Help me," she whispered from behind him again.

"Deeper and deeper," she whispered into his left ear.

"Feel me," the nun said as she kissed him, longingly.

"Kiss me," she whispered behind him.

"You want it to go on..." from the left. "The pleasure..."

He let out a long moan, into the mouth of the nun kissing him.

He felt the nun that he was lying on gently move, and then he was lying flat again. She walked around him, slowly, her fingers touching his chest and stomach slowly as she moved. The nun that was kissing him stood up, as did the nun on his left. He could see the three of them, yet he knew it was the same woman. Six hands caressed his upper body, never going lower than his navel. Six breasts hovered over him, large and lovely, their nipples erect and inviting.
As one they leaned closer, and he could feel the weight of their naked breasts on him as they called to him, barely whispering.

"Let your mind go back to that day."

"In the alley."

"It's okay."

"You want to help me."

"Helping me brings you pleasure."

His stomach tightened up and his shoulders were lifted off the platform, "Yyyess."

"See yourself in the alley."

"Remember."

"Go back in your mind."

"Feel it."

On either side of him, they moved down and closer so that their mouths nearly touched his ears. They whispered, and he could feel their breath, which was delicious.

"You want to remember."

"It feels good to remember."

"Wonderful."

"Help me."

"So good to help."

As they continued to whisper seductively to him, the nun in the center moved onto the table with him, and straddled his body. She leaned forward slowly, her breasts nearly pendulous as her nipples touched his bare chest. He saw a thin beam of light touch between her legs and he saw a tiny tuft of hair there. She was fully nude, and he could swear that he smelled her exotic musk. She leaned more, until her face was almost touching his.

"Talk to me," she huskily breathed.

"Feels so good," the left nun smiled.

"Let your mind go back," the right nun cooed.

"I want you to think about the alley," said the nun who was straddling him. She reached down and took gentle hold of his throbbing cock. She moved her body so that she could place the head of his cock against her wet labia. "Think about that night in the alley. It's okay to tell me. It's okay to help me."

"You want to help."

"Feel me."

"So wet.

"Think back to the alley."

The nun lowered herself just an inch or so onto his cock, and gasped with the feeling, as he let out a long moan.

"You had just finished playing your last set," she breathed, "You were about to go home."

"Y-yesss," he breathed, as he felt the nun begin to slowly move up and down on his cock, just slightly, teasing him.

"You were walking..."

"Feels so good."

"My wet pussy."

"You want to tell me everything."

"Talk to me."

"Want to talk."

"Want to fuck."

"You had picked up your guitar case, and were about to leave."

"Feel it."

"Pleasure," the left nun hissed, and his hips thrust upward, but the nun on top of him moved so that he couldn't go any deeper into her.

"You were about to walk out of the alley," she whispered into his mouth.

"Want it so bad, baby..."

"Want to go deep into my pussy.."

"Need it!"

"Please fuck me."

"Please..."

"And then..."

"Please..."

"Please..."

He suddenly heard the sound of the alley door burst open, just as the nuns on either side of him yelled "PLEASURE!" At the same time, she plunged herself down onto his cock, burying it deep within her.

As the nuns shouted "PLEASURE" in his ears, she pounded her pussy on top of him, shoving his cock into her, as he spilled every detail of that night.

"GIVE IT TO ME!" she shouted as he described the men who burst into the alley and knocked him down in perfect detail.

As he came, she did as well, knowing that she had done her job, and took pleasure in it. Once his body relaxed, she lay on top of him, kissing him, as the nuns at his ears whispered, "You did so well."

"I'm so happy."

"Sleep now."

"Very happy."

"Sleep now."

"So proud of you."

"So good."

"Sleep now."

She kissed him, and whispered, "Sleep."

The others whispered, "Sleep."

"Sleep."

"Sleep..."

After a few moments, Sister Dawn stood, and walked from the Theatre into a private bathroom next to the Control Room. She cleaned herself, dressed again, and then stepped through a rear door into a private hallway. She went through a private door into one of the Conference Rooms, and saw two of her assistants, who of course looked enough like her that they could easily make a drugged subject believe there were three of her. It was a remarkably effective technique that assaulted the subject's sense of reality and made him or her more malleable.

"Well, done, Sisters," Dawn smiled.

"Thank you, Your Grace," they said together.

"The others are compiling the information and removing any background noise. I'll analyze it tomorrow, but in the meantime, you are both released for the evening. Again, you did very well."

"Thank you, Your Grace," they said, smiling, then left the room together.

Sister Dawn resigned herself that she would need to visit the Confessional later. Though His Holiness approved of her results, he would be less-than-accepting of her committing fornication, even if it were to gain valuable information for the Church.

She was proud of the results she got, but she had to admit that the interrogation she'd just done, while pleasurable, was not her favorite 'cup of tea'. Irwin James really didn't have any conscious knowledge of his assailants. She preferred when the subject was guilty, and was knowingly concealing information. It was in those situations that she was at her best, and when she really got off.
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