Read Master of Two: Nascent Love for Free Online Page A

God to forgive Sister Mary Thomas for her
carnal sins.
    After several minutes, Mary moved, this time
to lie upon her back as Amiko had done, spreading her knees. She
looked to Amiko, desperation on her face. “Please, Amiko, my sweet,
sweet friend. I can only ask this of you once. I know it is foreign
to your nature, but I beg of you to help me touch the hand of God
as you have done. Please, Ami, take the flogger and show me the
way.”
    Hesitantly, Amiko reached for the
instrument, its weight and size distinctly odd in her small hand.
She sought approval from Mary silently with her eyes.
    “Do it, Ami. Please.”
    Crying pitifully, and praying aloud, Amiko
began to do the task she’d been asked to do by her one and only
friend. Each time she tried to stop, Mary would grind out between
her tightly gritted teeth, “More, Ami. The rapture has not come to
me yet.”
    And so she would apply the flogger to Mary’s
breasts and pussy another few times, not always hitting the targets
she intended as the fog of her tears overcame her again and again.
Mary finally whispered, “Stop,” and Amiko threw down the flogger
and buried her face in the pillows on her sleeping mat, hysterical
at what she’d done. Mary’s nipples were welted deeply, her pussy
oozing from a thousand tiny cuts. She had not achieved the state of
forgiveness. Again, God had not seen fit to accept her penance and
grant her redemption.
    Mary threw the huge black habit over her
broken body quietly, grimly, and gathered up her things. “God go
with you, my dear,” she said softly from the doorway.
    Amiko couldn’t even bring herself out of her
morass of self-loathing long enough to tell her dearest friend
good-bye.
    * * *
    Amiko’s trunks had long-since been delivered
to a storage facility which was holding them for her arrival in
Paris. Weariness warred with the excitement of being in a new city
as she came off the plane. She had only one small bag, carried onto
the plane with her, and so went directly to Customs, avoiding the
other 300 jostling travelers who had deplaned with her. Once
through customs, she stood at the exit doors of the terminal and
eagerly sniffed at the Parisian air.
    Paris! Finally, to be away from the convent,
away from confinement and poverty.
    She turned to hail a cab and was nearly
felled by a man moving quickly through the throngs. Her purse, the
only link between her and her new life as a student at the
Sorbonne, left with the thug at a much greater rate than he had
approached. Screaming, cursing, pleading, Amiko ran after the thief
to no consequence. Suddenly, a large man came out of the crowd
ahead and stuck out a beefy arm to halt the criminal.
    Amiko’s papers, her small funds, addresses,
proof of scholarship, everything that her life hinged upon was
saved by this one act of heroism. To say that she was grateful to
the man was a gross understatement. Innocently, she praised the big
man who introduced himself as Marc Maroten. Ami further explained
her circumstances to him, telling him in her academic French, that
she had only just arrived in Paris for the first time and would be
seeking lodging near the University. Classes were due to start in
three weeks. Did he know of a modest boarding house she might find
near there?
    Marc had immediately offered the lovely
nineteen-year-old a suite in his home. He told her that he was a
bachelor living in an old house that was really too big for him
alone and yet was too valuable to be sold at the current market
prices.
    Over lunch, fascination for the man easily
overcame Amiko’s reticence to take such offers from strangers. He
was large, but muscular, and well-groomed, with a dark beard and
moustache and deep, deep brown eyes. His smile was engaging, and
his sense of humor was universal. As it turned out, he owned an
import/export business in Paris and had done considerable business
in Japan. The smattering of Japanese he’d picked up worked into the
conversation to help Amiko’s