The door opened as the sliver of light grew and washed across the floor of the stairwell, revealing a dark silhouette beyond. The two lovers stood frozen, not knowing whether to run or stay and face whoever had discovered them in the aftermath of their clandestine affair. They began to fumble with their clothes, when suddenly the hallway was flooded with light and there stood Father McKinley in the open doorway, tall and imposing in his black shirt and slacks, white collar, dark hair and stern but handsome face. Mortified, the young woman flushed with embarrassment as she smoothed the wrinkles of her short blue dress over her hips while her partner fastened his zipper and tightened his belt with an awkwardness that betrayed his fearful state of mind.
"I'm afraid the chapel is closed", Father McKinley said in an even tone. "You will have to come back tomorrow."
Gathering his composure the other man replied, "Yes...of course, Father. Please forgive us."
"No need", said the priest, a cryptic smile forming on his face. "Save that for the confessional. I have a feeling both of you will have much to atone for."
The couple then made their way with haste out of the stairwell and through the nave of the cathedral, exiting the main doorway and out into the night where they allowed themselves the luxury of breathing a heavy sigh of relief. The woman turned around to look at the huge gothic edifice of white limestone glistening beneath the moonlight, and a shadow of fear chilled her heart as it loomed over her, its pointed arches, stained glass rose windows and spires thrusting up into the heavens giving her the impression of an Accusing Angel passing judgement on her soul.
The following Saturday night she drove to the cathedral once again after receiving a phone call from Father McKinley. He wanted to speak to her concerning matters of grave importance to her spiritual welfare., asking her to come right away. She was reluctant to do so, because aside from the unusual nature of the request, even though she had attended Mass and taken Communion in the past she had never been baptized, but the priest had hung up before she could mention the fact, let alone ask him how he had gotten her number in the first place. There was something else nagging at her mind as well but she could not put her finger on exactly what it was. She began to think it had to do with being discovered in the chapel stairwell a few days before, so not wanting to show disrespect to the esteemed clergyman she decided to honor his request to come see him at the church.
She got out of her car in the parking lot and gazed up at the elaborate facade of the National Cathedral with its gargoyles, sculpted angels and ornate carvings that recounted the tale of the Creation. In the light of day she had always considered the magnificent structure to be a beautiful work of art, an architectural masterpiece in stone, but now, as the black clouds half obscured the spectral moon, it seemed to take on a vivid life of its own, and there was a certain satanic quality in the way the towers soared heavenward that bespoke not celestial aspiration, but rather grim, infernal defiance, like the upthrust horns of some fiend of the Pit, sinister and grotesque.
She mounted the steps with trepidation and stood facing the great double doors of the cathedral. She grasped one of the handles and, finding it unlocked, pulled the door open and entered. The church was lit with the soft glow of many candles, and a light breeze wafted through the doorway making them flicker and dance. She closed the door behind her and found herself inside the belly of the beast, feeling lost and insignificant in the shadows beneath the majestic arcades, high ribbed vaulting, flying buttresses and massive stone columns. In the light of the sun the stained glass windows would come alive in a glorious profusion of color, but now they were darkened in the moonlight, their pictorial tales a mystery until the birth of a new day. Her eyes swept across the cruciform interior, the central aisle leading to the Great Choir section and into the sanctuary with its communion rail carved with figures representing the twelve disciples and the High Altar of marble ringed by six white candles in brass holders beyond. Nearby was the Canterbury pulpit from which the sermons were preached to a devoted flock.
"Good evening, Mrs. Seven."
The startled woman quickly turned in the direction of the voice behind her. It was Father McKinley, dressed in his black priestly vestments and holding a bible, who had entered through a side door leading into one of the many apartments of the church.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you. Please have a seat while I go lock the door."
As Father McKinley turned the lock of the main doors the woman couldn't help wondering if it was meant to keep intruders out or to keep her from leaving. He came back and sat down next to her on the mahogany pew.
"I'm afraid I still don't know exactly why you wanted to see me, Father."
"Of course", the man replied. "I probably should have made my intentions clear on the phone, but I feel we need to talk about what happened with you and your friend in the chapel last week."
She suddenly felt a wave of nervousness and apprehension pass through her, and was about to get up to leave when the priest placed his hand on her wrist with a firm but comforting hold. "You know, the sacrament of reconciliation can do wonders for the soul." He indicated in the direction of the confessional booths set against the wall and, after a moment's consideration, she got up and proceeded to one of them, opened it and stepped inside the small compartment. The priest closed the door as she sat down on the cushioned chair and once again she experienced the feeling of being locked inside a prison. She told herself there was nothing to worry about, that she was in a holy place with a man who could be trusted not to let any harm come to her, so she forced herself to relax. Father McKinley sat down on the opposite side of the screen and, after saying a prayer for her salvation, asked her to begin.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been a year since my last confession." She then went on to relate various minor indiscretions pertaining to the Ten Commandments and the Seven Capital Sins, but when her discourse broached the topic of lust the priest sat up in his chair and seemed to take a renewed interest. To her discomfort the young penitent was urged to provide as many specifics as possible concerning that night in the chapel (for the Devil is in the details, and to drive him out one must confront him directly), but as she related the incident she found her anxiety gradually being replaced with a certain excitement, and as her story became more graphic, recounting the exquisite sensations of that night of carnal blasphemy on the chapel altar with her legs wrapped around her lover in the throes of orgasm and the taste of his flesh still warm in her mouth, she felt a sharp thrill of arousal as a bead of wetness trickled down her inner thigh.
When she was through there was a brief moment of silence followed by the sound of the priest exhaling heavily. "You do realize, of course", he said, "that the act of fornication in a house of worship is a mortal sin, a direct affront to God, and if left unrepentant can damn you to Hell for eternity."
"Yes, Father...I know", her voice inflected with the first pangs of guilt.
"In order to receive absolution for one's sins it is usually sufficient to take up the rosary and say prayers of contrition, but the nature of your particular transgression is such that extreme acts of penance are called for. Are you prepared to do what is necessary for the sake of your happiness, to prevent the loss of God's grace forever?"
"Yes, Father. I will do anything."
Father McKinley then stepped out of the confessional and opened the door on her side, freeing her from the little chamber of secrets. He was holding a white diaphanous gown draped over his arm, which he gave to her, and instructed her to stand in the center aisle of the nave, facing him, and put it on.
"This shall represent your new mantle of purity. As a snake sheds its skin, so shall you cast off the garments of your previously sinful life and begin anew as a child of light."
She stood before him and slowly, reluctantly, began to undress, until she was down to her red lace bra and thong panties. Her bare feet felt the coldness of the marble floor, and she shivered.
"Red is a harlot's color. Take those off as well."
For the first time that night she felt truly vulnerable and afraid, and would have listened to her instincts, gathered her clothes and run from the cathedral, but there was something in the man's presence and tone of voice that commanded her to stay despite her fear. She turned around with her back toward him, unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. She then bent at the waist and, trembling, slid her panties down to her ankles, exposing herself to the priest's burning gaze, before delicately kicking them to one side and slipping the gown on over her naked body. She turned back around to face him, the outline of her shapely form visible through the white fabric. Her hair tumbled in soft golden luxuriance about her shoulders and was imbued with a red tint in the candlelight.
"Of all God's creations, you are without doubt the most beautiful I have ever seen."
"Thank you, Father", although something in the priest's demeanor told her the compliment was not entirely innocent.
"Now, before you carry out your penance you must first receive a proper baptism in order to wash away the stain of original sin so you will be open to God's sanctifying grace. Come and kneel before the altar and supplicate yourself before Him."
She began to make her way down the aisle. As she passed by Father McKinley he reached out, and placing his hand on her back, proceeded to escort her to the High Altar, where she glanced up at the wall above her with its sculpted figure of the Christ Majestic, his right hand held in a gesture of blessing and surrounded by the glorious company of saints, martyrs, prophets, angels and faithful Christians. She then went to her knees with reverence both for the Heavenly Savior and for the man who served as his spiritual agent on earth. The priest stood over her as she looked up into his eyes and felt the power of his will bearing down on her psyche. He placed his right hand on her head and instructed her to close her eyes as he recited the Lord's Prayer (for even the Devil can quote Scripture), but at one point she opened them and realized he was now standing mere inches from her face, his massive erection straining against the black fabric of his slacks. For an instant she thought of placing her hand on his crotch, and even of unzipping his pants, opening her mouth and...but she decided against it and closed her eyes once again.
At the conclusion of the prayer Father McKinley told her to open her eyes, then asked her in an imperious tone, "Do you renounce Satan and all his works?"
"Yes, Father, I do", she replied, upon which the priest shook the holy water asperger three times in her direction and intoned, "Then by the sacrament of regeneration I baptize you in the name of the Father...and of the Son...and of the Holy Spirit."
After making the sign of the cross in the air as a symbol of redemption he continued, "You have now been reborn as a true servant of God and the Church, but the dangers of temptation are ever present, and in order to strengthen your soul against the forces of darkness you must receive into yourself the power and virtue of our Lord by means of the sacrament of the Eucharist, or Holy Communion. Take, therefore, this chalice of wine which shall become the blood of Christ as it nourishes you with His love."
He then began to speak words of consecration as she took the vessel of red wine and brought it to her lips, savoring the taste, and consumed the sweet vintage with a thirst of which she had not even been aware until now. If this was indeed the blood of Christ, then her idea of Heaven would be for Him to bleed for eternity as she bathed in the fountain of everlasting life. She emptied the chalice of its liquid contents and handed it back to Father McKinley, feeling a surge of warmth flow through her as her fears melted away. She felt the priest's strong hands grip her shoulders as he helped her to her feet and with a gentle insistence leaned her back against the marble altar, facing him.
"You are now ready to begin your penance."
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