The Sisterhood
© By Morgan, 1995, 2003, 2012. All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 60
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 60 - This book begins a few months after the end of "Susan." It is a continuation of the Ali Clifford saga and is being posted now because it fits between "Susan" and "Kristin." A word of warning. The book is very long.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Torture
Within an hour the remainder of the people from Prendwick arrived at the palace. Although they had left much later, they had flown in a direct line down over Germany, and didn’t have any problems getting from the airport into the city, either. Finishing lunch, there was a phone call reporting that a large church delegation headed by the Pope himself had arrived at the palace to review plans for the coronation.
“Oops!” Karla exclaimed. “Here’s trouble ... maybe.” Then she said, “Susie, I need you.”
Instantly the sprite appeared, still wearing the lovely dress she had been wearing when she had appeared on the plane. When Karla began to tease her about appearing in the same dress twice, Susie just stuck out her tongue and an instant later was wearing skin-tight Levi’s and a chambray work shirt with the sleeves torn off. “Better?” she asked.
Karla just giggled and stuck out her tongue, too.
“The Pope has just appeared to discuss arrangements for the coronation,” Karla said. “And I seem to recall that the Boss wants to handle matters personally. What am I supposed to say and do?”
“A very good question,” Susie replied. “He is not going to be a problem, but some of his associates might be.” Then she giggled and added, “Of course, they’ve been over to the cathedral, so I think they’ve been softened up a bit. It was really funny. The Cardinal Archbishop of Prague told them about the condition of the cathedral yesterday, and they can see with their own eyes its condition today. Needless to say, they’re a bit puzzled. After all, how does one complete about 150 years’ worth of gothic construction overnight?”
Then she paused and added, “The best thing you can do is to play it by ear. Needless to say, I’ll be right here ... as will the Boss. Understand?”
“I certainly do,” Karla replied. Then she added softly, “Dear God, thank you so much for what you did this morning for the Koenigs. It’s clear to me that they are truly deserving. It only just registered that Bill Koenig was in prison when I was there. While I was beaten, they smashed his hands and, I gather, must have cut off his penis. Could you tell me what really did happen?”
“First of all,” the Voice replied, “nothing you did today counts in terms of favors you may have received from me. You see, I owe the Koenigs an apology. You’re right, of course, Karla, when you said they are truly deserving.
“Never have I encountered a more selfless family. A little girl, now only four years old, offers her life to protect yours. You and your sisters give her dozens of gifts for Christmas, and what does she do? Exactly what you said she did. She opened each one and then conferred with her parents to determine which child would most like to receive it. Truly, the idea of keeping even one for herself never crossed her mind.
“Her father, one of the greatest concert pianists who ever lived, has his hands smashed but thinks only of the suffering you are undergoing.” There was a pause and he added, “Formerly, William Koenig was one of the world’s greatest concert pianists. Now he is the greatest. Do you understand?”
Karla just nodded and breathed a prayer of thanks. “His wife, Carol, underwent an agonizing process to try to become pregnant. You were right, of course. The Russians did amputate his penis so he could never again have intercourse. But doctors extracted some semen and used it to impregnate Carol. However, her internal plumbing wasn’t quite right, so she almost died giving birth to Karla. Now I can assure you that she will be able to carry more children, in the same manner you will. She, too, is now in The Sisterhood. Finally, she is also a concert pianist, and is now in the very top rank.”
There was a pause and then the Voice continued in a diffident manner, “I have a favor to ask of you, though.”
“Lord, that is impossible!” Karla exclaimed. “What would you have me do?”
“Would it be possible to have the Koenigs play at the reception following your coronation? Could you do that?” He asked.
“You are asking me, as a special favor to you, to allow the two finest pianists of all time to play at my reception. Is that what I’m hearing?”
Very softly the Voice agreed.
“Boy! What an imposition,” Karla grumbled. “I mean ... it’s not like he’s anybody good, like Hootie and the Blowfish, or even Elvis Presley or someone. But since it’s for You, I suppose we could make do.”
Then her attitude changed dramatically and she asked, “I’ve heard that there are some piano compositions by Franz Liszt that have never been played as solos since his death. No one else had the hand span he did. Yet I sense that Bill Koenig has very large hands and long fingers. Can he play them?”
“Yes, he can,” the Voice replied. “But personally, I think they’re even better when played with two pianos. Wait until you hear Bill and Carol play some piano duets.” He paused and then continued, “What you will find extraordinary, though, is to hear the whole family sitting at a single piano playing chopsticks. It is utterly unbelievable.”
“Since Carol is now in The Sisterhood, does that mean that Karla can assist in their lovemaking?” Karla asked. “Good heavens, her parents must truly love one another.”
“They do indeed, and of course she can,” was the reply. “Now, the Pontiff awaits. This should be a lot of fun.”
Rather than greeting the Pope in the Hall of State, Paula had had him ushered into the Queen’s library. It was a beautifully appointed room lined on three walls with stacks of leather-bound books. The Pope was seated comfortably when she joined him accompanied by Doug, Ann, and Mary. Going to him, Karla dropped to her knees and kissed his ring.
Rather than releasing her, though, Pope John Paul II held on to her hands and helped her to her feet, thinking as he did that no female alive was less in need of assistance than she. When she was standing, he just looked deeply into her eyes, nodded, and then dropped to his knees and kissed her fingers.
Genuinely astounded, Karla exclaimed, “Your Holiness! What are you doing?”
Rising to his feet quickly in spite of his advancing years, he smiled warmly and replied, “The title is yours, Your Highness, not mine. Never in my life have I met a person as overflowing with God’s Divine Grace as you.”
Ann and Mary had been about to drop to their knees, too, but he motioned for them to remain standing. He greeted Mary, then Ann, and shook his head.
To Karla he said, “I have heard of this but never did I think I would live to see it. I have heard of holy people in my time, but never anything like you three sisters.” He slowly shook his head and added, “Your sisters have won the Nobel Prize. The Vatican supported the decision, I should tell you. But with regard to sheer holiness? I believe you are ahead of your sisters, but it’s like having an IQ of 185 compared to 183. I suppose the first is higher, but at a level where it cannot possibly make any difference.” Then he added, “Now, Your Majesty, how may I serve you?”
Karla was still stunned. She motioned the Pope to take a seat which he did, as did several other churchmen who had accompanied him. Judging from their caps, all but one were cardinals of the Church; the last was apparently an archbishop.
When everyone was seated, the Pope continued, “First of all, could you tell me, Your Majesty—”
“Please, Your Holiness, my name is Karla,” she said in fluent Polish.
“It’s a deal,” he replied in fluent Czech, “if you call me Karol.” Both of them laughed. When he did, the Pope looked far younger than his 75 years. He reached out his hand and she shook it.
“How about English?” she asked with a grin. “My Polish is a bit rusty, and my Latin... ?” She just shook her head sadly in dismay. This time he howled with laughter and agreed.
“At any rate, as I was saying,” the Pope continued, “could you tell us what happened to the cathedral? It certainly didn’t look the way it does now the last time I was in Prague! And, I understand from your Cardinal Archbishop, it’s not the way it looked as recently as midnight last night.”
Then he paused, thought for a moment and continued, “And then there’s the small matter of the family you met close to the palace earlier today. We all witnessed a miracle, didn’t we?”
“With respect to the cathedral,” Karla responded, “I don’t really know ... But I can guess.” Then she explained what had happened in the little village of Whitfield, and how it had been transformed overnight as well.
“You see,” she continued, “I’m very glad you stopped by today, because there’s something I’ve been asked to communicate.” She paused and then blurted, “God Himself wishes to officiate at my coronation.”
There was a sudden intake of breath on the part of the other churchmen. The archbishop muttered, “Blasphemy!”
The only one who appeared totally unconcerned was Karol Wojtyla, Pope John Paul II himself. He appeared completely relaxed. Nodding his head he commented, “I understand fully. It is as I expected, actually.”
Then with a very warm smile he continued, “I can’t tell you what a thrill this is for me. I know that you have direct contact with God, Karla. I know that you performed — or more accurately ordered God to perform — a miracle in the street today.” Then he shook his head and added, “Never did I think I would meet a living saint, but today I get to meet three of them. And without question the three most beautiful saints ever to have ever lived...”
At that instant, two things happened. First, Duke and Sheena paced into the room. To their great pleasure, the doors of the palace were like the ones at Prendwick Castle with handles rather than door knobs. Second, Susie materialized in their midst. She waited, hovering in the air as the two tigers greeted the Pontiff.
The fact that they could communicate with him apparently didn’t surprise him at all, either. Then turning to Susie he shook his head and said, “You must excuse me. I don’t know how to greet a saint...”
“Karol, this is Susie Sloan,” Karla interjected. “She is now one of God’s archangels.”
At that, the Pope’s eyes did widen, as he reached out his arms. Floating to him, Susie gave him her warmest kiss and then to the surprise of everyone, just sat on his lap. He put his arm around her and held her tightly while Karla told him of Susie’s background — how she had been tortured to death over a span of 72 hours, and how she had refused to renounce Jesus Christ.
Tears were flowing freely from the Pope’s eyes as he heard the end of her story. Then turning to one of his colleagues — the Papal Secretary of State — he told the cardinal to prepare an announcement of the canonization of St. Susan Sloan, effective immediately.
Then to Susie he said, “I really don’t know what to do. I realize of course that an archangel ranks far above mere saints, but we have no power to recognize angels. Will you forgive us, Angel Susan?”
“It’s Susie, Your Holiness,” she corrected. “But that’s not why I’m here. It’s to lodge a complaint. The Boss won’t listen to me, but maybe you will. And maybe you can get Him to do something, too.”
“And what’s that, Susie?” the Pope asked with his eyes gleaming with merriment.
“It’s these three girls sitting across from you,” Susie exclaimed. “They’re the problem. I mean ... Really! How would you like it if you were an archangel and find these humans could put you out like a light. And they can! All it takes is for any of them to kiss me, and I’m on the floor unconscious.”
Looking up at his face she asked, “Do you think that’s fair? I mean, archangels are supposed to sit at the right hand of God. We’re supposed to be above everyone, except for God Himself. If that’s so, how can they do what they do? And it’s not just once in a while ... It’s every damned time!”
With a look upward, she added, “Whoops, Boss! Sorry!” There was a deep rumble in the room that the girls and Susie immediately recognized as Divine laughter.
Looking upward the Pope asked, “Was that... ?”
“It sure was,” Susie answered. “And now you see what I mean? What do I get? I get Divine giggles! It’s just not right.”
“Karla,” the Pope said softly, “would you mind giving me a kiss? On my lips?”
Karla rose from her chair, went to him, and melted her soft lips on his. Knowing what he had in mind, she slowly increased the intensity of her kiss, but at the same time being mindful of his rather frail health. In just a moment, his head sagged over against the back of his chair. Instantly, Susie popped up to sit on the back and hold his head upright to avoid any neck strain.
A few minutes later, he began to revive. Slowly he moved his head and then his hands and feet to be sure they still worked. In the meantime Karla was standing over him with her concern for his health obvious in her face.
“Wow!” he said softly. “That was utterly incredible.”
To his colleagues he said, “That kiss was loaded with love, joy, and Divine Grace, but at a level of intensity that could power the whole continent of Europe for at least a day.” Then to Susie he said, “Now I have a question for you. If Karla can put you out, and you’re an archangel, what does that make her? Or her sisters?”
“We don’t know,” Susie responded. “But they’re not the only ones. You see, Your Holiness, there’s a Sisterhood of these people. They’re all the same.” Then her eyes gleamed as she added, “They give birth to the most incredible children you could ever hope to see. They are filled with God’s grace. They are joyful, obedient, brilliant ... They are as close to perfect little people as it’s possible for Him to create.” Then she shook her head and added, “And these people never age! Look at Karla and Doug. How old do you think they are?”
“That’s a very good question,” the Pope replied. “All three of these women appear to be about nineteen; Doug looks to be 23 or 24.” He shook his head and continued, “But Karla couldn’t be only nineteen and have done all the things we know she has done. How old is she, anyway?”
“She’s nineteen,” Susie replied. “Of course, her birth certificate says she’s 29, but what do they know ... I mean...”
“You referred to others. Are there any more here, now?”
“Indeed there are,” Susie replied. Then she instructed Duke to ask Marion, Donald, and Paula Wilhelm to join them.
While they were waiting, the Pope studied Sheena carefully. Then to Susie he asked, “And what is the rôle of these tigers? Clearly, they are like no wild animals I have ever seen or heard of.”
“You are correct, sir,” Susie replied. “This is Sheena, as you know. She is possibly the most perfect young Royal Bengal tigress alive. Already, she is carrying Duke’s first cubs.” Then she grinned and shook her head. “But she’s just like the girls. They never show a pregnancy, and neither will she.”
“I am!” Sheena almost screamed. “I’m going to give birth!? Oh, what joy! Duke will be thrilled, too.” Then to Susie she said, “And thank you so much for what you said about me, even if it’s not true. There’s Duchess, and...”
“The most perfect young tigress in the world, I said!” Susie interrupted. “Now shut up, and dream about your cubs.”
To the Pope she said, “The tigers are designated by God to look after some of His favorite people on earth. Their primary mission in life is to protect their charges from any harm. And I think you’ll agree with me that they’re very well equipped for the task.”
She paused and then added softly, “In addition, they act as the agents of the Holy Spirit on earth. In that capacity they relay communications direct from the Boss from time to time.”
“What do you gentlemen think about all of this?” the Pope asked his colleagues. All but the archbishop were in a state of stunned amazement. They agreed that they were in the presence of the saintliest people it had ever been their good fortune to encounter.
But the Archbishop, John Conrad of London, protested. “It’s a trick of some kind,” he insisted. “And what does this midget mean by saying that the tigers can communicate? They can only growl and snarl.”
The instant Karla heard his words, she exchanged meaningful glances with Doug and her sisters.
At that point Marion and the others entered the room, led by Duke. The Pope rose to greet the newcomers and looked deeply into their eyes. Marion was the last to greet him. Holding her hands in both of his he just looked into her and said finally, “You are the mother of these lovely girls, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, Your Holiness,” she replied. “But how could you tell?”
“Because you have the same love and joy and grace in your eyes that they have in theirs. But you have something more. You have a mother’s love.” He slowly shook his head and added, “It is truly wondrous to behold.”
Then he took her by the arm to introduce her to his colleagues. Suddenly he felt her freeze in his grip. He looked at her and then followed her eyes. She was staring at John Conrad.
“Well, Jack, we meet again,” she said softly. “I thought I was through with you months ago. But now it appears that you are an archbishop? What’s going on?”
Conrad was almost apoplectic. “This woman is the most notorious whore in all of England!” he exclaimed. “Get her out of here at once!”
After he had uttered just a few syllables there was an instant change in the attitude of the two tigers. Where before they had looked at him with a question, now their question had been answered. This man represented an immediate threat to their charges. From their house-cat positions, now both were in crouches with their fangs bared. Both emitted the quietest, yet most threatening growls anyone had ever heard. Conrad instantly turned as white as a sheet.
“Thank you both,” Marion said quietly. “You knew instantly that something was wrong with him, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Sheena replied. “It was obvious to both of us that he couldn’t hear our communications. Since we can only communicate with those whose hearts are pure, we wondered how he could be a prince of the Church yet have an impure heart.”
“Your Holiness,” Marion said softly, “Jack is correct, though. I was possibly the most notorious whore in England. In fact, he’s responsible for my purification.” Then she described how she had been whipped while dangling from the ceiling of her apartment and received well over 100 lashes.
“By the way, Jack,” she asked, “how many times did you beat me? I’ve always wondered. I knew it was some number greater than 100, but I never knew how many. Did you count them all?”
“It was 150,” he replied sullenly. Then with his eyes blazing he added, “But I’ll see that you’re thrown out of the prostitutes’ union for this. You’re never supposed to rat out a john. You know that!”
“Yes, I do know that,” Marion admitted. “On the other hand, I’m out of the business, so I don’t care, either. But what about you? All I know is your phone number. But I’m sure it’s not listed to the residence of the Roman Catholic Archbishop of London, is it?”
At that point Marion had to restrain Donald. A glance at him told her that he would cheerfully kill the man on the spot. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to you now, Jack, but I’m quite confident you won’t be the archbishop much longer. In fact, looking at my husband, you might not be alive much longer. Perhaps you know that Queen Elizabeth is one of my closest friends. Beyond that, though, Donald Whitfield, my husband, is possibly England’s greatest hero. If you look into his eyes, you will see the eyes of a hunter.
“But why don’t you look into the tigers’ eyes instead? Normally, we find them filled with warmth and love. But looking at them now as they look at you, I see Arctic ice. I can assure you that either of them is capable of destroying you in less than a second. If you look carefully you will see they are shaking with rage and are just awaiting permission to tear you apart. Do you understand?”
Conrad did as she asked. The looks in their eyes caused all his hair to turn white before their eyes. Never had he been so scared or felt so close to death.
“You have good reason to be afraid, Jack,” Marion continued. “You see, because they’re internationally recognized as an endangered specie, they could tear you apart with impunity. And they would do so in an instant. Now what are you going to do?”
“Resign?” he quavered.
“No!” the Voice thundered in the room. “You will not!”
At that instant the Pope dropped to his knees and dropped his head to the floor as did his fellow churchmen. A moment later, though, he felt himself lifted back up to his feet and then gently seated again in his chair.
The Voice continued, “Karol Wojtyla, you are very pleasing in my eyes. You have labored for nearly twenty years to maintain and build my Church. Unlike some senior churchmen in other denominations, you have not engaged in what Flip Wilson used to call, ‘The Church of What’s Happening Now.’ You have adhered to doctrine as you understand it to have been handed down for centuries.”
The Voice paused and then continued, “However, I do have one criticism: I believe you and your colleagues have been entirely too lenient in the presence of heresy and gross misbehavior.
“It is for this reason that I do not want you to allow John Conrad to resign quietly. Rather, I expect a formal canonical trial to be held in which his unconscionable behavior must be publicly exposed. I do not want a coverup! I want his full villainy to be brought to light. This man disgusts me! He is far worse than the Borgias. While they were personifications of evil, they never pretended to be better than they were.
“This man is a sanctimonious hypocrite! I cannot abide the man. I am sorely tempted to have the tigers destroy him and then immediately damn his immortal soul to the fires of Hell forever! Now, Karol, will you do your duty?”
“I will, Lord,” the Pope promised.
Then to Karla he said, “Your Majesty, I have a formal request. I wish you to have this man taken into close custody to ensure that he will be present and able to stand trial in Rome within a fortnight. Could you do that for me?”
“With great pleasure!” Karla exclaimed.
Then she nodded to Paula who picked up a phone, punched a few numbers and then spoke quickly. Moments later, a police detail arrived to take Conrad away. To the amusement of the others, he almost fell into the arms of the police, so happy was he to get away from the tigers alive.
When they had withdrawn, the Pope said, “Lord, it is my understanding that you will be handling the coronation personally. Is that correct?”
“It is,” the Voice replied quietly. Then He chuckled and added, “There have been rehearsals in progress Up Here for weeks.” Then he outlined what was in store.
When he concluded, the Pope slowly shook his head and said, “I cannot tell You how honored I feel. Just think! I will be present when the Multitudes of the Heavenly Host sing again.”
Then he paused and added, “I have received a report of something similar happening in the North of England recently, and again in Los Angeles, in the United States. Were they true?”
The Voice explained how He had allowed it at the wedding of Karla and Douglas. Since it had worked so well, he had permitted the dead GIs to sing for Ali McGrath Clifford.
Then he added, “Almost all of them will be in Prague tomorrow for the coronation. I hope you will try to make it a point to see them. Ali Clifford is ... Well, she’s Ali Clifford. She is one of the loveliest women in the world, and like Karla, Mary, and Ann, is also one of Marion’s daughters.”
After a pause, He added, “Marion, I have news for you. And I suppose it’s only appropriate that I announce it in the presence of these churchmen. First, I was watching you very closely when Cara Campbell told you that she was going to get married and hoped to have more children.”
He interrupted himself to tell the churchmen who Cara Campbell was and the relationship. Then he continued, “You, Marion Whitfield, were genuinely happy for her. Although I know how much you would love to give birth yourself, like all the other women it would never occur to you to ask anything for yourself.
“However, Karla’s coronation changes everything. At present, Douglas is next in line to be Duke of Northumbria. But he is now Prince of Bohemia, and the Royal Consort. Karla, your first son will be the Crown Prince. Accordingly, Marion, you are fertile again. You will present children to His Grace. You will love them and spoil them, as you will your grandchildren. What do you think about that?”
Marion dove into Donald’s arms and began to bawl. Then the Voice asked again, “But what do you think?”
“What do you think I think?” she demanded. “I’ve never been so happy in all my life!”
“But why are you crying then?”
“Because I’m so damned happy!” Then with a lopsided grin she added, “Men! You’re hopeless!”
To the Pope the Voice said, “Now do you see why celibacy of the clergy is such a good idea? You don’t have to cope with this sort of nonsense. And if I can’t — and I can’t! — what chance do mere humans have?”
Then He chuckled — shaking the room as He did — and continued, “And I certainly hope you noticed her behavior. Did you notice? She called Me hopeless! Me!”
He paused and then added, “Another woman you must meet is the pilot version of this whole effort, Henrietta Conroy. Of course, if you call her ‘Henrietta’ she might kill you. As it is, she gives me every kind of heck imaginable. But I tell her that her name reminds me of a nice 19th century librarian working at one of Andy Carnegie’s libraries. Then she really blows her stack. And in spite of having seven children, the oldest of whom is 27, Hank — that’s the safe name to call her, by the way — still looks nineteen ... And a beautifully nubile nineteen, if I do say so myself.”
Then He said, “I must be going now, but I am very pleased to have had the opportunity to meet you, Karol.”
There was silence in the room for a few minutes and then the Pope rose to go. He took Karla’s hand in one of his and Doug’s in the other, then just looked deeply into their eyes. Then he said, “Absolute monarchies have ... gone out of style, should we say? Nevertheless, I could not be more overjoyed than I am at the prospects for the people of Bohemia. In you they are getting the finest ruler imaginable. And after fifty years of sacrifice and struggle, they deserve it.”
Then he paused, shook his head, and continued, “Usually, after one of these meetings, I am asked for a Papal blessing. But after what I have experienced and what we have learned, such a thing would be utterly ridiculous. Instead, Karla, may I have your blessing? Please?”
With that he dropped to his knees before her as did his fellow churchmen.
Karla was nonplused. But then she said softly, “May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He make His light to shine upon you. May He guide you and protect you for the rest of your days, until you join Him in Heaven for all eternity. We ask this, O Lord, in the name of Jesus Christ, Your Son and Our Savior, Amen.”
At that instant the golden light appeared over everyone. All of the visitors except for the Pope were rendered unconscious; he just looked around displaying interest but no great surprise. Karla reached for his hands and helped the elderly man to his feet.
“Aside from everything else, you’re very strong, aren’t you Karla?” the Pope asked kindly. Karla just grinned and shrugged. He shook his head and continued, “That’s what we were seeing this morning, isn’t it? You asked God to make his light shine upon your people, and He did.”
At that instant Susie materialized again in front of him and said, “I suppose you really should know the score. The Boss says that with respect to a few of these young women, He must answer their prayers in the same fashion they must breathe. Enough said?” With that she vaporized again.
“Utterly incredible,” the Pope murmured. “What that means is that even though you phrase a request as a prayer, it is treated as an order. Is that correct?”
Karla started to shake her head when the Voice thundered, “Karla! You know better than that. Karol, you are precisely correct — and she knows it, too, as do Ann, Mary, Marion, and a few others.”
“Never before in history...” the Pope murmured. “You are an incredible young woman.” Then he added, “May I stay for a while?”
He paused for a moment and then continued, “It seems like I spend my life in very formal settings — usually much more formal than this. The problem is that I never get to know anyone. May I stay for a while?” he repeated. “My colleagues will be returning to the Cardinal’s residence.”
Then he shook his head and added, “The cathedral isn’t the only thing that was constructed last night. It seems that the Cardinal’s residence was also rebuilt. The Cardinal’s bed was even replaced while he was sleeping in it.” Then he grinned and said, “My friends can study the layout of his residence carefully. Clearly, whatever is there now has been approved by The Highest Authority.”
As the remaining churchmen recovered and then took their leave, Connie Klaus entered the room wearing a sleeveless smock made of the roughest burlap. It was very simple in design being merely a large rectangle of material with a hole cut in the center for her head. There were no sides; it was held closed by a heavy rope tied around her waist. Knowing how badly cut her body was, Karla cringed involuntarily when she saw her. She told Karla that there were visitors waiting for her in the music room.
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)