Chapter 2: A Perfect Setting

Sister Rosemary looked over the rims of her half-moon spectacles; her smiling eyes took in the early morning vista. The neat lawn rolled away from her lace trimmed French windows, perfectly framed by the luxurious growth of the early summer flowers. Unhurriedly she sipped her tea, and glanced at the ancient Grandmother clock 6:23. Rosemary sighed in satisfaction; soon it would be her favourite prayer of the day - a full hour of private time with the lord.

An impolite rap disturbed her reverie.

"Enter" she called.

A diminutive form struggled into the room, swinging back the solid oaken door.

"Guest Mistress I must protest! Yet again the visitors have not risen, and they were absent from lauds. They must abide by our practices surely?"

"Good morning, Sister Pamela" Rosemary replied.

"Oh yes, good morning Sister Rosemary, I forgot my manners - but those people..." Pamela was interrupted in full flow.

"Are my guests, they are in need and I have offered them sanctuary - It is the Carmelite tradition. Pamela, would you have me turn them away? Am I to cast the ladies out and let them face the terror they described, alone?"

"No but, we have rules, and responsibilities! They must be enforced!" Pamela retorted.

"Indeed, and if you do not return to your cell, you will be late for private prayer" Sister Rosemary flicked her head towards the ticking clock.

The minute hand trembled and then flicked once more.

"I take my leave, but this subject is not closed mistress!"

Sister Rosemary stood as the door closed with a comforting click; she walked over to her prayer cushion and knelt. Behind her the Grandmother clock chimed the half hour. Rosemary's eyes closed and the silent communication began. Her thoughts concentrated on her recent visitor 'Dear Lord, please grant the holy peace of mind and the grace to understand others within Sister Pamela's heart... '

A few doors away Sister Pamela knelt, her head bowed, her lips mouthing an almost silent prayer.

"... and to Sister Rosemary grant the wisdom of the Lord, let her see the devil and all his works; for truly they are amongst us now."

Quidenham monastery fell back into its old routine, silence descended upon the age-old hall as the dutiful offered their prayers. But none, other than Rosemary, prayed for the visitors ensconced in Peace Cottage, which was a pity; it may even have helped.

Alice was the first to stir, disturbed by something - she sat bolt upright, spilling the feminine hand that had snuggled between her breasts.

"Damon, Damon what was that!" she asked urgently.

A lithe body rolled over, throwing back the covers and displaying her womanly figure.

"Will you stop calling me that? If the Sisters hear they will definitely get spooked! Its Mona now, can you remember? Mona!" Mona's voice was terse.

"Mona, I sorry, I'm still getting used to the shape-shifting. Anyway I heard something - outside" Alice apologised.

Mona looked at her outsized wristwatch 6:41 'The nuns will be a - praying'. Without stopping to dress Mona skipped to the door, unlocked it and slid out into the misty garden. In seconds she was back, her frame heaving with barely suppressed giggles.

"A hedgehog Alice, we were almost compromised by a Gul'nathan hedgehog. Unless they can shape shift better than us - we have little to fear!" Mona gave in to guffaws of laughter.

The sight of Mona's tight nipples bouncing seductively before her tempered Alice's annoyance, her passion soared. Alice's eyes widened to drink in Mona's succulent body.

"I do believe you prefer me as a girl?" Mona asked provocatively, pouting her lips slightly.

"I prefer you as a shape-shifter, that's for sure!" Alice giggled.

Mona launched herself onto Alice's half reclined form.

"Why you cheeky madam, I'll show you..." Mona sniggered as she tickle-teased Alice's soft stomach.

"Can't you two keep it down? You have woken Sali and me now! God damn this place, early morning freaks!" Gerry shouted in her usual dawn grump.

"Stop complaining and come here Gerry, I want you!" Sali muttered urgently.

Gerry grinned and snuggled up to Sali; she paused and then whispered into the close shell-like ear that peaked out of the smooth white hair.

"Transform to Silas, I want something to fill me this morning - under the covers no one will know"

"Oh sure, no flash to give us away, pull the covers down tight..." Sali whispered back

Gerry pressed her wet lips down onto the soft mound beneath her splayed thighs. From nowhere the organ rose, skewering Gerry, expanding to stretch her to her full capacity. She ground her clitoris against the base of Silas's shaft, and marvelled at how quickly she could be awake - if she really needed to. Seconds later Gerry peaked for the first time, filling the room with her soft cries and waking all her slumbering sisters.

Peace cottage resounded with the hallowed worship of sexuality. The emotions of the C'phu joined and sent their prayer for salvation out - to an unlistening universe.

Georgie whistled as she strode down the deserted road, her body swayed as she walked; the bundle of papers under her arm an encumbrance to a normal gait. Georgie felt at one with the world, and at last at one with herself. She had found sex, and it had liberated her from being an ungainly teenager; Georgie was now a woman. Silently she watched the cotton wool clouds skate across the mid-morning sky. The wind was getting up, 'may be a storm is brewing' she mused. Georgie hastened her pace, and lost her grip on the topmost paper, it fluttered from her grip and spread its sheets across the road.

"Oh shit!"

Georgie raced after the windswept newsprint, picking up the errant sheets as quickly as she could. Finally she stooped to pick up the last page.

"Parp! Parp!" a loud car horn blared at Georgie's stooped form.

Georgie jumped, her hair a tousled mass of dark curls, her eyes wide with fright.

The blond youngster driving the car grinned from ear-to-ear, before raising his hand in the customary two-fingered salute.

Georgie responded in kind, her fright turning first to mirth, and then to muted interest 'He's quite a hunk' she thought. She felt the urge to control him, the hunger rose from her loins, but too late. Georgie swung her head; her glowing eyes followed the speeding Land Rover. If only he had looked back. Georgie sighed and shrugged, she folded the disorganised paper and was just about to shove it with the rest when a headline caught her eye.

Georgie's blood ran cold, it had started, Silas had to see this! Georgie ran past the Vikings mound and turned right into the road sign posted 'Quidenham Hall'. On she ran towards the fens, her speeding legs gobbling up the yards to the Monastery. She raced across the road and dived to the right, into the ordered grounds of the ancient hall.

"Stop that at once, this is a place of worship, not a race track!" Sister Pamela barked.

"Sorry Sister but I must get these papers to..." Georgie started.

"Papers, trash more like, how dare you bring this into our Lady's house" Sister Pamela jabbed an outstretched finger towards the amply endowed page three girl.

Georgie froze, her bundle of papers fell, and the already tattered newspaper billowed into the grounds. As Georgie stared in horror at her crime, a young nun raced around the courtyard retrieving the scattered sheets.

Sister Pamela lowered her face to Georgie's - the threat hung for a second and then burst into a diatribe.

"Now I have grounds for getting you ejected, you and your friends. All you have said is bunkum! Irreligious cults, brain-washing people into sin; I've never heard such nonsense, this is an impure country, but we the catholic sisters pray for the sinners - they need no more. They certainly don't need your sort or your smutty stories!"