A pair of blue eyes hover in the darkness, floating before the gaze of the viewer in a nimbus of purple mist, starshot vapour and nocturnal undulation.
Eyes of such a hue of blue: mere words could not easily describe...
Was it that of the type called Monestial? Helio? Ultramarine?...or fading, to hues more closely related to Cerulean Greys, Buff King's or Cobalt?... the Smalts, newly crushed at midnight, giving the tints to a region somewhere between Chrysocolla, Bleu de Turque, or Indanthrene unending, as it were... for it's hints of palest Mauve de Gris, or dusted rampant Indigo?
Who can say?... Only you, dear reader, can give an astute interpretive appraisal of this ocular chromatic discourse. The subtle imaginative distinctions wrought by the 'mind's eyes'...freely held , available to us all.... Who can say?
Maternal concern? worry ? , fear?... or a dull and distant repetitive thud, awoke la Mere Marjolaine Valdevendage...roused from a fitful dream...involving in equal parts: unseen menace...and soaring flight.
The Abbess rose, and clad herself in a woolen nightgown lined with finest Vair... Her bedchamber gave onto the convent library and scriptorium; a vast tresure house of precious texts illuminated on Velin de Chevre...rows of shelves housing powders, pigments, brushes, stylus, rare unguents and inks. The library in turn, gave onto the cell of Soeur Heloise; (who, as Sacristan, held an office and a chamber, uniquely separate from the rest of the sisterhood).
Our Soeur Heloise? Whom we recall, ... was now engulfed, in the principal heat of a torrid coupling with her phantom redeemer.
Closeted in the library's eastern wall, was a small vestibule, used in earlier times for the occasional sequestration of penitent novitiates. Now seldom if ever needed under the congenial stewardship of la good Mere Marjolaine; well known and loved as the redoubtable head of the order.; born under Libra...balance, fairness and harmony, were the hallmarks of her implementation. ,she fostered a happy obedience, and reverent warmth in all her subordinates. With no streak of meanness, or covert agenda in her nature, Marjolaine had risen through the ecclesiastical ranks swiftly, and in so charmed and natural a progression; nothing bad could be said of her. All her actions, stemming as it were, from a real desire to do God's work, to do good and to be good, and so guiding the convent through any adversity that might befall it...( although none ever had in the entire twenty five years of her office within it)...
Still, whatever had disturbed her sleep prompted her to investigate, and establishing that the steady thud came from the general vicinity of the library, she made her way through the darkness with a lit taper.
Gaining entrance to the Scriptorium, it became clear to her hearing that the sound increased near the old penitent's closet. Noiselessly entering, this small chamber, she availed herself of it's peepholes., thinly covered by a small framed shuttering covered in gauze. Two small holes, placed at calculated intervals, befit perfectly those two blue eyes that hovered in darkness.
Yet, now they met with a new light,... from another realm entirely. Though cunningly occulted, by the minuteness of the apertures, her righteous gaze had definite access directly into the private cell of Soeur Heloise from this unseen vantage. In tandem wtih the two holes on the penitent's side of the wall, were the two corresponding, finely painted eyes of Notre Dame de Grace; le Sainte Vierge sacree...Marie Reine du Monde...benignly and lovingly gazing out from the wall mounted Icon in the cell of the Sacristan. Through the two pupils of which, the enravished, enraptured animal rutting of Heloise and the living sculpture made flesh....struck the gaze of the Abbess...with a silent inward Jolt! (The initial visual and psychic shock of the sight, causing her instictively to at first, draw backwards suddenly, and potentially betraying her presence to the engaged couple by knocking into the paneling behind her).
Fascination, mixed with an astounded horror took hold of her, however, and mesmerised, she regained her breath and stealed herself to her mission of inquiry as those two blue eyes felt the magnetic tug and pull back, back, to the visionary holes behind the gauze.
There, in the half light of Moon and oil lamp; flickering and glistening with sweat; the mighty thrusting thews and nates of the satyr beat an unrelenting strophe into the welcoming fundament of the enraptured Heloise....; whose radiant face was lit up with what could only be described , as an ecstatic expression of pure joy and transcendental satiation. Gratified full, glutted in the jovial transports of erotic bliss! but wanting more!, not less, of the same wondrous physical and mental sensations combined...stemming from the delicious frictions and vibrations engendered by the skilled and varied artful pistoning of his hot fleshy engine within her. Continually finding , a multiplicity of orgasmic crisis in waves of seismic pleasure, radiating through her entire form, from head to toe tip, and finally, freeing her for the second time, in many a long decade, from the dreary penitence of her former now colourless, existence.
But, if the inner and outer eyes of Soeur Heloise were opened for the first time to this manifest wonderment...how so , did this effect the eyes and psyche of our good mother the Abbess? Who, now despite herself, riveted to the spot...her eyes devouring with terrible fascination...the unreal tableau vivant of Satyriasis now taking place in real time, before her disbelieving eyes....yes, those blue eyes celestial and pure of gaze....in the frame of a pure heart, seeking only the good, only harmony and righteousness....Now forced into the role of secret Voyeuse...conflicted with a paranoia of a self or socially imposed guilt over the simple act of looking. Looking of course, surely, only vis a vis the premise of concern and empathy, to gain knowledge, for what she had hitherto seen as the sudden illness of the convalescing nun.
The staggering ramifications!...of what she was now witnessing , simultaneously revolted her and compelled her at once! Compelled her, (though deeply conflicted)....to continue to look, to gaze, to spy, to devour , to take in, to ascertain....yea! to experience! , if only vicariously and without detection,. the total physical abandonment to basic natural animal urges, and the psycho/sexual release of one of her principal subjects...namely, Heloise. Who, was now lovingly kissing and being kissed and fondled by the attentive langours of her lover.
Marjolaine watched rapt, as he freely and lovingly tongued her labia and clitoral inflorescence to ever higher clifftops of orgiastic transport! and subsequent return!
What did all this mean? for the Convent? the sisterhood? the general body of the Holy Roman Church entire?.... not to mention the respectful following of the laity, the flock, the unwashed, the infidel!?
Did this point to a new hypocrisy? could such a transgression as this ever be forgiven by almighty God? Jesus Christ and la Vierge Sacree together?
By this time the Abbess had extinguished her taper to avoid any detection ,and also to increase the intensity of her vision by virtue of having relegated the only source of light to that of the cell of Heloise. She continued to watch, but felt warm, indeed hot, in the small confines of her sequestration....entranced as she was, by the adamantine hardness of the magnificent Fascinum of the beautiful beast before her!....throbbing and bobbing to his heart beat... and against all her vows and beliefs hitherto held in the purest faith... she presently felt the initial pangs of a mysterious want and desire....the first subtle rumblings deep within her body and soul, as effected through those pure blue eyes of an indescribable hue...
Helplessly, hypnotized, she gingerly fingered her own hardening nipples, pinching and rubbing their engorged aureate ends, ...breasts that had never known the suckling of an infant , or the slobbering kisses of an ardent lover. Letting her warming cloak, too hot! of wool and vair , now fall to the floor of the closet...she stood completely ungarmented, statuesque and radiant in her own animal beauty, a woman in her forties...physically aroused, gripped by what seemed an 'un natural' natural longing, never felt before...and this too, came mixed with strange pangs of jealousy, envy,.... cupidity and covetousness....she too, longed for the miraculous plaything so freely enjoyed by Heloise, she too, desired to feel, to live, to expire, Yea! at the bodily ministrations of the wanton Satyr... simultaneously, now aghast and revolted at her own feelings and anxiety, she rubbed, kneaded and teased her own labia and vulvic mound with the end of the unlit but smoothly warmed taper...and by turns, began to penetrate herself with it's blunt end, shuddering and shivering in pulsing nervous contractions as she did so.... all the while , holding the fixity of her inquiring gaze on the ongoing lavish scene conubial now unfolding in the dimly lit cell next to hers. Unable to control the first full blown eruptions of her own crisis , she let out a gasping groan of ectatic pleasure, which at this point , was heard by the two inmates she spied on.... in a newly inflicted attitude of horrific realization to her psyche and awareness, her desire still, outweighed the realization of her presence as discovered by Heloise and her assailant.......He rose from the cot and immediately turned his penetrating glance towards the painted icon of the blessed Virgin.........
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