It was a beautiful fall night, and Father Uriah McKenzie was preparing for evening mass at his Dorchester parish. Father Mackenzie was a man in his sixties with rusty hair and a peach complexion. His former Irish Traveler ancestors had fought in the Revolutionary War of 1776, and supported George Washington's bid for presidency. The St. Peter's Roman Catholic parish of Dorchester had recently undergone a renovation which had resulted in the removal of several imperial tons of scrap metal. Mackenzie had entrusted his most industrious, albeit his youngest, subordinate, Sister Eunice O'Malley, with selling off the tonnage. Sister Eunice had regularly arranged previous fundraisers, such as bake sales, concerts, and sporting events, for the new parochial school under development. Eunice had stated that she would get this school built if it was the last thing she did, and Father Mackenzie had trusted his subordinate with the logistics. Nevertheless, Father Mackenzie's suspicion was aroused when he discovered that the meeting with a potential purchaser for the scrap metal was to take place at 8:00 p.m. that night in the penthouse of Ruthven Nautical Resources director Logan Ruthven, and his wife, Lilith Ruthven.

"Do you not find it suspicious," commented Father Mackenzie, "That you are being invited at this hour to a private residence?" 

Sister Eunice had been surprisingly dismissive.

"Is it any different than answering a funeral call, or attending someone's sickbed?" Eunice posited. 

Father McKenzie wasn't about to stop Sister Eunice from doing what she thought was best for the community, but he certainly didn't trust the Ruthvens any more than he trusted his superiors, even considering his superiors had once proverbially hid Satan in a frock coat in 2002, a fact over which he had publicly castigated them. Accordingly, as soon as Eunice had left the parish, Mackenzie had hired a PI to take pictures of the meeting using a surveillance drone, vainly hoping that his fears would not be confirmed.

... 

At around 8:15 p.m., the surveillance drone caught Sister Eunice's proposition as she sat in front of Lilith, a dark cherry-haired woman with amber eyes, a porcelain complexion and an hourglass figure in a strapless silver silk dress and blue suede t-strap stiletto sandals; and Logan, a suave midnight black-haired man with amber eyes, an alabaster complexion and trapezoidal figure, a charcoal grey three-piece suit, a navy shirt, and suede oxblood brogues with a matching belt.

"You see, Mr. and Mrs. Ruthven-"

"Our names are Logan and Lilith, Sister Eunice," insisted Logan. "Please address us as such."

 The drone recorded as Eunice accommodated the couple's request despite herself. 

"You see, Logan, Lilith; this is supposed to be a mutually beneficial agreement. You get supplies you can ship, we get the requisite funds for our property, and more children get a wicked big chance to earn their way into the Kingdom of Heaven by following in the ways of Jesus Christ, like I wish I would have when I was a child instead of thinking that I was talking to an imaginary friend named Mr. World."

The drone recorded as Lilith grabbed her husband's hand so they could discuss the matter privately, and followed the couple to the study.

"You remember what happened the last time you insisted on us engaging on an indiscretion like this, Lilith," Logan chided. "There were several unwanted calls from the tabloids. Something tells me it won't just be the tabloids who are interested this time, especially since our prospective business partner is not a young professional."

Lilith kissed her husband oblivious to the camera's view while Logan traced her cleavage.

"I thought we were hunting partners," teased Lilith. "Don't tell me you're going to let a little so-called liability get in the way of our hunt."

As the drone recorded when the couple had returned from the study, Logan leaned in towards Sister Eunice, running his fingers through her sugar blonde hair under her black clerical veil, while Lilith rubbed her neck, causing her caramel complexion to flush, and her teal eyes to water slightly. Lilith whispered into Eunice's ear.

"My husband Logan would like to propose a counter-offer on my behalf, and it's in your best interest to listen."

Eunice hyperventilated slightly as Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat, and the drone continued to record.

"I suggest that you perhaps enjoy our hospitality on top of the deal we already made. My wife Lilith finds your story particularly fascinating, and would like to discuss it more privately."

Lilith continued to rub Eunice's shoulders oblivious to the drone outside.

"I suggest you get into something more comfortable, Sister Eunice. You're going to be here a while." The drone continued to record and follow the trio to the primary penthouse bedroom.

...

When they got to the primary penthouse bedroom, the couple started to slowly remove Eunice's habit from her pear shaped figure, from her black monk strap shoes and her stockings to her black clerical tunic and her matching veil, at the same time encouraging Eunice to remove Lilith's dress and lingerie, as well as Logan's suit and undergarments respectively. The couple shared a kiss before unclipping Eunice's sugar blonde hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

Once Eunice was fully exposed, Lilith placed Eunice in a chair, where Eunice spread her legs for Lilith's tongue as it circulated Eunice's vulva. At the same time, Logan rubbed Lilith's vulva and started to penetrate her moisture with his erection from behind. As Lilith went down on Eunice between Logan's thrusts, she seemed engrossed in thought, and oblivious to the drone outside.

Subsequently, after jizzing in his wife's moist slot, Logan beckoned Eunice towards him.

"You have received 'God's word' since before you were old enough to drink. You're about to receive something very different now."

Logan spread Eunice's caramel-complexioned ass as wide as he needed to after lotioning his dick before inserting himself into her nave to desecrate it, while Lilith tribbed Eunice's slot.

By the time the whole exchange was finished, Eunice had collapsed, exhausted in an unfamiliar bed, and the investigator had captured all the footage he needed.

... 

When the private investigator returned to Father McKenzie, he gave Father McKenzie a warning.

"Technically, what I recorded could be construed as corporate misconduct. However, without Eunice making any accusations, you can't say anything about this. I'm not saying they didn't do anything, but I am saying you can't technically prove any misconduct without her making any accusation." It occurred to Father McKenzie that he had to get the answer from the horse's mouth herself, so to speak.

... 

The next day, Father McKenzie noticed that Eunice was taking an extra cup of coffee.

"I'm guessing the meeting went longer than expected," Inquired McKenzie.

Eunice pretended that she hadn't heard the Father. Father McKenzie decided to take a risk and make a supposedly sarcastic quip. 

"I don't suppose that Satan has removed his frock and exchanged it for business attire, Sister Eunice. You know, just because we're making more effort to exclude unsavory figures in this institution doesn't mean other institutions don't have unsavory figures."

Eunice brushed off the comment.

"You know how it is...public transit was a nightmare last night." Despite Father Mackenzie's attempted inquiries throughout several weeks, Eunice remained untransparent, just as the diocese had attempted to be in 2002. On the last day of October, the documents had apparently been signed, but Eunice was nowhere to be found. Upon realizing that the people he suspected were preying on his subordinate may have had a hand in the disappearance, Father McKenzie mentioned his concern to one of the congregants who was a police officer, Det. O'Rourke, who seemed to suggest that there was nothing McKenzie could do.

"Look, Father Mack, I hate to say this, but your PI friend was right. Unless Eunice herself had openly said anything accusing Logan and Lilith of anything, there's nothing you can do about it, as much as I believe you. The only thing you got on them is some sex tape. Even if the whole damn Catholic Church tries to come at them, they're going to call youse all puritanical for hiring a private investigator to stalk them. I got to go, some dink couple was found on the Waterfront with their wrists slashed, and healed puncture marks in their necks."

It occurred to Father Mackenzie that he should have seen this coming, since he had warned his fellow parishioners that Satan would be attractive or appear respectable.