Thread: Unholy Conspiracy (Quix and Xana)

Thanks. Jeffrey nodded at the owner, who'd avoid getting too close to the young when he'd placed their coffee's down, and subsequently hovered, obviously interested in what such a diverse couple could be discussing in his cafe. Though, his name was well-known, the Journalist's face was not so much so, and he could see the man attempting to place where he might recognise him from, before Jeff's unwavering gaze sent him scurrying and he returned his focus to Aisha. She still hadn't spoken, and the man felt the frustration that he'd wasted his time beginning to build, readying himself to leave, as her hand dipped into her pocket, and he laid eyes on the bag contained between trembling fingers. For a moment, he thought she was going to drop it, but somehow she managed to maintain her grip. A definite junkie, the drugs had obviously gotten to her hook, line and sinker, and the Journalist scoffed half his beverage in one gulp, and flexed his legs, preparing to stand. However, there was a sincerity to her tone, when she finally spoke, that caused him to pause and listen to her faltering speech. Father Thorne. Pay us in drugs. Buy our bodies with a Dimebag, What are you telling me? Keeping his voice low after she'd finished, he leaned closer, glanced at the hand containing the drugs, then back into the eyes of the woman. That a Father Thorne, is what? Buying girls like you? Swapping drugs for sex? Jeffrey couldn't hold back the internal thought that junkie whores weren't exactly an attractive option for any man, if they had a choice, and raised a sceptical brow. Even the best Investigative Journalist in the City was unaware of the 'Safe-House' in Woodrow Street, so secret was it, although her words rang a faint bell in his mind, and he found himself caught between curiosity, disbelief, and disinterest. The woman was obviously troubled, and possibly mentally unstable, but there was also a quality about her, particularly with the mention of his previous articles, that told Jeffrey that she also possessed an intelligence, or awareness, not typical of her type. However, he'd heard it all before, and allegations of sexual abuse by the clergy weren't uncommon. Neither were they any longer a big story. These days, it was a miracle if they even garnered a mention in the major Metropolitan newspapers, and if they did, were buried in the middle pages between the comics and horoscopes, although Jeffrey knew, that wasn't totally because of the story itself, but the pressure brought to bear by the influential politicians and the Church Hierarchy on supposedly independent editors. The potential pay-off had better damn-well be huge if he was ever going to write about it, or dare take on the Catholic Mafia, and Jeff wasn't feeling it. If you want me to investigate, you're going to have to give me a lot more because, no offence, I'm not going to stake my reputation on the word of a drug-addict making accusations that have been made a hundred times before. Harsh, but true, Jeffrey's brutally honest assessment was in part elicited by his own guilt at being unable to help her. What was one junkie whore, whose memories were likely shot, and credibility debatable, in the grand scheme of things, when issues such as political and law enforcement corruption affected the entire community. No matter how much empathy he had for her as an individual. Sounds like a Police matter to me. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Father Thorne attempt to keep his lascivious thoughts from creeping into the benign expression on his features, as he watched Jana undress. Thin, and underfed, he felt the girl's ribs poking through her skin, but that could be fixed with three nutritious meals a day. If there was something the Safe-House didn't lack, it was an abundance of food, thanks to the multitude of donations from the devout citizens, who answered the calls from Father Thorne and those of his ilk, to provide for the poor and the needy. Not to mention Shop-keepers and merchants, who advertised their generosity, seeking to be seen as Pillars of the Community, whilst truly only wanting, from the good publicity, to enhance their profits. Anyone could be a believer, when money was at stake, and why should the Church spend any of its own vast reserves when they could take from the less wealthy. After fattening up, Jana would be more than pretty, and Damien resisted the temptation to slide his hand up from her ribs, and place a palm on one of the young, perky tits revealed under the bra, that had the man salivating, and hardening under his cassock. Too soon, too soon . The priest admonished himself, and forced his touch away, the care of his tone, and gentleness of his actions retained, before he gave away any of his darker intentions. The man had become too accustomed to the girl's bowing to their superiors, and would need to ensure he remained cautious, and didn't push too far, too quickly. However, his hand remained on her shoulder, as they departed the room. Her soft, silky skin felt good under his touch. Down there. He nodded towards the corridor, from the far end of which emanated the sounds of scattered conversation and clicks and clacks of cutlery striking crockery. Breakfast at 8am, Lunch at 1pm, Dinner at 6pm.' He smiled and issued another reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, eyes this time peeled on her face. The communal bathrooms are open all day. Might be best if you showered, before you ate. Unfortunately, I'll need to retain your phone, and there's no internet access. You'll also be confined to the house for the first week. All security precautions, as many of the residents when they first arrive are unused to regimen and discipline, and attempt to run off. However, once they become accustomed, find it much easier to survive here than alone in the outside world. The Priest nodded reassuringly, before his brow furrowed. Which reminds me, I spoke to Father O'Brien last night. He mentioned that your Dad came seeking you, and threatened violence when my colleague refused to reveal knowledge of your whereabouts. It appears you escaped just in time. A lie, but how was Jana to know, as he turned away, towards his office. The week will provide an opportunity for you to befriend the other girls. Including those, the Father didn't say, who occasionally reveled in taking their anger and frustrations of the treatment enforced on them, out on those they perceived as even more vulnerable. Come when you're ready, Child, and after I've explained the rules, we'll pray for the Lord to keep you safe. Once the door closed behind him, Father Thorne sat behind his desk, eyes shut, and slowly stroked his cock under the robe, contemplating how far he could safely push Jana when she returned for instruction.