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Learning how to be a nun was
nothing like I expected it to be. Everything had happened in a blur
ever since Father Hanson and his small group of nuns had toured
several Catholic schools in my area on a recruitment drive earlier
in the year. I’ll never forget the day they came to our school and
set up a desk in a spare office for girls to sign up to their
preparatory course for nuns.
    Their visit was announced in the
middle of lots of other notices first thing in the morning. Most of
the other girls didn’t seem to pay any attention to our teacher at
all but I knew I’d be going to that office and signing up at the
first opportunity. I was raised in a strictly religious home and
I’d only ever dreamed of doing two things with my life. My secret
ambition, the one my parents wouldn’t approve of, was to swim
competitively. I was good at it, some of my friends had even
remarked that I seemed to spend as much time in the water as I did
on dry land. My other dream was to become a nun and do anything the
Lord wished of me.
    Despite my enthusiasm I almost
missed them completely, I had a really busy day and it was only
during my swim that I realised they would be leaving soon. I cut my
swim short and raced through getting changed. In my haste I dropped
my bra in a big puddle of water in the changing room and was faced
with a dilemma. No bra, or wet bra? Before panic set in I decided
to go with no bra as the material of our shirts was reasonably
thick, but would probably be see-through if wet. The day was almost
over anyway so if I was careful after visiting Father Hanson nobody
would notice.
    I ran through the hallways of
our school, praying that they hadn’t left yet. Having no bra on
meant my larger than average breasts bounced and swayed with every
step. Looking over my shoulder and from side to side as I ran I saw
nobody and so supported my chest with my hands, I remember being
surprised at just how difficult it was to run at pace without a bra
on.
    Coming around a corner at speed
I ran directly into Mr. Murdax, my math teacher. I bounced off him
and fell to the ground, sliding across the polished floor. I
noticed his eyes dip down between my legs as my skirt flew up and
my legs parted in my vain attempts to regain some semblance of
balance. I thanked God that it had been my bra and not my panties
that had fallen in the puddle back in the changing rooms.
    I quickly closed my legs and
regained my feet.
    “Just what do you think you’re
doing, Miss. Callaghan?” he asked, his voice betraying the fact
that he was still getting over the shock of being careered into and
the view of my pristine white panties between my toned legs.
    “Sorry Mr. Murdax, I just
realised I was running out of time to speak with Father Hanson
before he leaves.”
    Mr. Murdax gave a mysteriously
knowing smile and let me go without any further delay or
punishment. It was quite confusing, both I and several other girls
had received detentions from him for much less than that but I
wasn’t about to question his uncharacteristic leniency. I thanked
him and continued as fast as I could without having to resort to
giving myself a hand-bra again.
    At last I was outside the
office, which had a piece of paper stuck to it confirming I had the
right room. I took a moment to catch my breath and smooth down my
skirt, I wanted to make sure I gave the right impression when they
met me. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting from Father
Hanson but I had certainly been anticipating an old priest. Don’t
get me wrong, he was old like about thirty, but I’d definitely
thought he would be really old like Mr. Murdax, in his fifties or
something.
    I answered all their questions
to the best of my ability, though I must admit I was somewhat
distracted by Father Hanson’s warm smile, which made him look even
younger than he was. He was one of the most handsome men I’d ever
seen, I wasn’t sure whether I was seeing him through rose coloured
glasses because of him