Eventually, one of the archaeological investigators decided that it must be religious, so they sent for an expert. A few weeks later, she appeared at the site. When the shuttle landed and the bay opened, we were all surprised, and a bit shocked, to see she was one of the Dancing Sex Nuns of the Tenth Quadrant.
The Sex Nuns were one of the last remaining religions, and the only one that could claim any continuation from the ancient lost religions of Old Earth. As mankind had spread out across the stars those old religions found they had less and less to say about what people discovered; about the worlds people found and – especially – about the other living creatures that were discovered.
The Sex Nuns, though, were devoted and absolute in their worship of the being they called the Earth Mother, who they claimed had given birth to the universe and all that it contained and that the stars and the planets that orbited them were the remnants of one of her orgasms made physical.
The senior archaeologist delegated me to look after the Sex Nun; to take her to the site, answer her questions and – much to the hilarity of my colleagues – assist her with any physical needs she may have.
Captain Jameson had tried to keep her face straight, especially during that last part of my orders, trying not to giggle along with the rest of them. We all knew, or at least thought we knew what the physical wants and needs of the Sex Nuns involved. It was the sort of thing every giggling teenager who is trying to make sense of sexuality hears stories about and, often, fantasises about. Just like all those stories we heard about the nun’s lapdance confessionals, where the Sex Nun would lapdance over the supplicant until they were forced to confess all their sins and were granted the relief of absolution.
The Sex Nun, Sister Sinola, of course had all the lithe grace and elegance of her order. She moved with a light sensual motion that could easily make a convert of me as I watched her body undulate in her skin-tight leather Sex Nun’s habit as we took the path to the site.
She turned to me as we entered the site. ‘You see,’ she said, touching my arm with her fingertips as she gestured towards the floor to ceiling poles covering the altar stage. ‘Those poles for are for the Sex Nun’s holy dances. They symbolise our travels from and back to the womb of the earth Mother as we make our way through this life. We slide up towards Her grace and down to more… earthly matters.’ The last few words were said as she stared into my eyes, then licked her lips slowly with the tip of her tongue. Sister Sinola took a step closer to me. I could feel the heat of her body.
‘I… I need to consecrate this place,’ she said, stroking her hand down my chest, stopping a bare inch above my utility belt.
She turned away and began rummaging through her bag. She came out with a portable music unit, setting its speakers up on either side of the stage altar. She then pulled out a small strip of material from her bag. I had no idea of its purpose.
Sister Sinola saw me starting and held up the wisp of material for me to see. ‘My holy Sex Nun Thong,’ she said. ‘Would you be willing to be my congregation for the consecration?’
‘I… I’m not a believer,’ I said.
‘Oh that doesn’t matter,’ she said, unzipping her nun’s habit and wiggling herself into her Holy Thong. ’I just need you to witness the ceremony.’ She came towards me, dressed only in the Holy Thong. ‘You will, if you don’t mind, you have to kiss the Holy Thong.’
‘Right… er… what do I…?’
‘Just kneel.’ She came forward until she towered above me. ‘Just a simple kiss will do,’ she said’ …unless…’
Then the music began: a slow, throbbing beat that Sister Sinola explained was the sensual heartbeat of the Earth Mother herself. I sat down at one of the congregational tables in the body of the holy place, watching as she began the holy ritual with one of the poles.
It seemed as though the dance took me to a new place, a holy place, somewhere in the heart of what it is to be human and alive. I felt as though I had never really known what it was to be alive as I saw Sister Sinola’s sensuous form writhe and gyrate in her devotions around the pole. First moving heavenward and then earthward and back again, time after time in time with the throbbing music.
Then – at the climax of her devotions – Sister Sinola hurled her Holy Thong aside to bring herself as close to the Earth Mother as physically possible as she devoted herself to that pole.
All too soon, the music faded away, leaving us in silence as Sister Sinola dismounted her pole, making obeisance to the Earth Mother as she did so.
‘EA-hem…?’ I said, when I could get my voice to work.
‘Yes?’ Sister Sinola said, walking towards me.
‘I… I wan… I want to… to confess…’
‘Ah… a convert,’ she said as she undulated down to my lap.