Shadow of the Blessed Mother

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Warning: Mixes Catholic and Neo-Pagan beliefs, may be offensive to the religiously sensitive.

Father Larry, a Catholic Priest of the Order of the Virgin Mary, opened the door of the confessional a tiny bit and peered out to see if there was anyone else waiting to make confession. Seeing no one, he sighed and opened the door the rest of the way to head back to his quarters in the rectory.

“Time for some mortification of the flesh.” He thought to himself, changing out of his Priest’s garb into his jogging outfit.

Even thought the days were starting to get longer, it was still not quite springtime and the late afternoon weather in Southern California was cool enough for sweat pants and a sweatshirt. Fr. Larry was a runner since high school, about 25 years ago. All through seminary he maintained his even temper and celibacy with daily runs. Now that he was in his own parish, he still kept running whenever possible. It gave him time to think, calmed his nerves and eased any temptations of the flesh. He murmured his usual small prayer of thanks that the church was almost next door to a good-sized suburban park where he could run whenever he wished. He followed the perimeter of the park in the evening twilight, giving him nearly a half-mile each lap.

He noticed a small group of people, about two dozen or so, gathering in one corner of the park. The spot they chose was well away from the street but near a parking lot, separated from the lot by a large hedge. They seemed to be a youthful group, mostly in jeans and black tee shirts, all in their late teens through twenties except for one couple in their mid-thirties. The man was tall, at least six foot two or three and appeared to be rather athletic under his black leather jacket. He had long dark hair worn tied back and always seemed to be amused at something, at least that’s how Fr. Larry interpreted the half-smile that was continually on the man’s clean shaven face.

The woman, however, was petite and curvy. She stood about 5 foot 2 or 3 and had long, straight dark-brown hair that hung most of the way down her back. Unlike the rest of the group, she wore some kind of long gypsy dress of a crinkly material that hugged her womanly curves. Not exactly slender, yet not really overweight, she carried any extra pounds in all the right places. She seemed intent on laying out some items on a picnic table, re-arranging them to some precise plan by the light of a couple of candle lanterns. Fr. Larry tried not to look at her and concentrated on keeping his pace steady. The rest of the group milled about the area, talking in small groups. They were too far away for Fr. Larry to hear any of their conversation.

On his next lap around the park, the group had aligned themselves in a circle with the older couple in the center. They all had their heads bowed, as if in prayer. Fr. Larry watched them as he jogged by, wondering what was going on. Then he remembered that he saw the same thing last month, a group standing reverently in a circle with heads bowed.

“Protestants! Why can’t these people gather in a proper church?” Fr. Larry snorted to himself. “Better yet, convert to the true Catholic faith and I’ll let them use my church for their prayer circle instead of a grove of trees.”

He completed his lap by the light of the full moon and returned to the rectory for a shower, prayer and bed. As an oblate of the Virgin Mary, it was his custom to pray to Her first thing in the morning and last thing at night. This night he added a prayer of hope that She would guide the Protestants in the park to a truer understanding of Her gift to the world and the veneration that She deserved.


Father Larry didn’t think of the group until the next month, when he saw them again. He offered up another prayer that they might recognize the significance of the Blessed Mother. Then he put them out of his mind for the next few days.

For some reason, he remembered the prayer circle a few days later. He realized that he hadn’t seen them in the park for several days and mentioned the circle to the parish secretary as she stacked up the newly printed bulletins for distribution.

“Oh yes, you didn’t know about them? They’ve been there for a couple of years now.” The elderly woman shrugged. “They’re harmless, moon worshipers or nature worshipers or something. They kind of remind me of hippies from the sixties.”

“You’re kidding me.” Fr. Larry grinned at her. “This is some kind of joke, right? Moon worshipers, very funny.”

“No joke, I saw it in their flyer once. The Bishop knows about it, he’s talked to them. That’s how I know that they’re harmless.” She waved her hand dismissively and went back to stacking the church bulletins.

“You wouldn’t happen to have that flyer around still?”

She shook her head. “Maybe the Bishop does.”

“Humph. I’ll just have to ask him sometime soon.” With that, Fr. Larry headed off to the confessional to hear escort kartal confessions again.


The next time he saw the group gathered, he left off his jogging and walked over to them. He tried to get the attention of the tall thirty-something man, but was ignored. The woman, however, noticed him and came over all smiles and bouncy energy.

“Hi, would you like to participate in tonight’s circle? She looked him straight in the eyes when she talked.

Fr Larry was used to women being more demure towards a Priest, but without his vestments and collar she didn’t recognize him as a member of the Catholic clergy. Now that it was mid-spring, the weather was getting warmer and her gypsy blouse was lower-cut than the previous outfit Larry had seen her in. That amount of exposure was something else that the Priest wasn’t used to seeing. Fr. Larry pointedly avoided looking at her display of cleavage.

“What sort of prayer circle is this? I see you people here nearly every month.”

“Oh, you don’t know about us? I’ve got a pamphlet somewhere…” She rummaged around in her bag, coming up with a folded piece of paper and tried to hand it to the Priest. “We hold a public full-moon circle here on almost every full moon. We practice eclectic Wicca, a Neo-pagan faith that has reverence for nature. We believe in a Goddess and a God and the balance of the genders. This is the last full moon before Beltane so we…” She stopped in her explanation. “What’s wrong?”

Father Larry didn’t reach for the pamphlet and had snorted when she mentioned the Goddess. He just couldn’t bring himself to accept that people believed this sort of tripe in the twenty-first century. Protestants were bad enough, trying to say they had real faith without a true apostolic lineage. But this stuff? This was worse, it was pure blasphemy! His thoughts must have shown in the sneer on his face. The woman stepped back from him, looking worried.

“We don’t worship evil, if that’s what bothering you. There’s no devil in our religion.” Seeing that her explanation didn’t help, she gestured for her companion to come over in case Larry became violent. Fr. Larry just turned and jogged off without a word. Still fuming when he got back to the rectory, he headed for the phone. He was lucky and caught the Bishop when he wasn’t busy.

“Your Eminence, I have to tell you about this group of Pagans that’s using the park next to the church. Something has to be done…”

“Ah yes, the full moon circles.” The Bishop interrupted. “I’ve investigated these people, they’re harmless. Let it rest.”

Father Larry snorted. “That can’t be true, we have to keep them from spreading their lies somehow. What can I tell the authorities?”

“There’s no law against practicing any religion in this country and I wouldn’t want that anyway. I don’t think you would either. How would you like a government official approving or editing your homilies?” The Bishop was losing his patience with Larry.

“But your Eminence, this is a threat to the true faith. What can be done about these people?”

“Nothing, my son. Concentrate on the souls in your care and don’t worry about these harmless nuts. There’s a lot more stuff out in the world that needs our attention. Don’t let these few crazy people distract you from your larger calling.” The Bishop reminded him.

“Yes, your Eminence.” Fr. Larry said, resignedly, hung up the phone and fumed his way through a quick shower.

“Well,” he thought to himself, “if there’s nothing worldly I can do, maybe I can fight them spiritually.” After changing he headed for the empty church to kneel at the shrine of the Blessed Mother and pray for these misguided souls. Lighting a candle before the life-sized statue of the Virgin, he repeated a few of the rote prayers to warm himself up to the task before voicing his own feelings in a lengthy tirade.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, appear to these misguided souls. Oh Blessed Mother, bring them the message of salvation through Your Son. Queen of Heaven, open their eyes and let them see the light of truth…” He poured every ounce of his passion into the prayer, adding vehemence against every imagined slight against the Catholic Church. The candle burned low by the time he was finished.

He slept soundly that night, certain that he was accomplishing good work with his prayers. He returned the next night and the night after that to pray the same prayers over again. Despite the loss of a couple hours of sleep each evening, he went to bed on the third night with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment.


Father Larry woke up with a start. Someone was shining a small but intense light into his face. He sat up in bed and tried to identify the source. The light seemed to be far away, but was moving closer, growing as it neared. But his room wasn’t that large. He wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming.

“Who’s that, who’s there?” maltepe escort He called in a shaky voice

There was no answer. Afraid now, Father Larry nervously crossed himself. As the light grew in size, it lessened in intensity until he could see the image of a woman in the softly glowing oval. It was the Virgin Mary Herself, dressed in Her traditional garb of a white gown with a blue veil over Her head. Her feet rested on a crescent moon and a diadem of tiny stars circled around Her brow. The light came from a luminous halo or corona that surrounded Her entire body. Unable to take his eyes off Her, Fr. Larry jumped out of bed, kneeled and crossed himself again, this time slowly and reverently. Life-sized now at about five-foot-three, She stepped off the moon, away from Her corona and into his room. The glow now came from Her entire body.

“My good and faithful servant,” She smiled beneficently, took him by the hands and raised him to his feet, “you have called to Me for three days and I have come to you to answer your prayers. You shall be My Priest.”

She startled him by pulling his head down to Hers and kissing him full on the lips, then astounded him even more when Her tongue slipped between his lips. He tried to pull away, but She was far stronger than She looked and held him close. He finally managed to break the kiss and look at Her face, not just Her adornment. He realized that he recognized that face.

“You’re not the Virgin! You’re that Pagan woman that runs the damned public circles.” He paused for a moment. “This is a dream, some kind of nightmare I’m having. This can’t be real.”

She laughed at him, a tinkling laugh that carried no malice in it, only amusement.

“I can appear as anyone and anywhere I choose. This is the form you were thinking of when you called to Me in your prayers. I am the Queen of Heaven, the Virgin, Mother and Elder, and many other names besides.”

“But… but I didn’t call you, I called the Blessed Mother Mary. Why do you appear as her? Is this some trick?” There was anguish on Fr. Larry’s face.

“There is no trick, my son. Think of the many names you called in your prayers. Queen of Heaven, that’s another name for Me as Isis. The Morning Star, that’s when I am Venus. Queen of the World, there are so many names that go with that title, from Kwan Yen to Freya to Athena, and so many more. Queen of Peace; Mother of Mercy; Gate of Heaven; Lady of the Pillar and so on, they are all Me as are Asherah, Rhiannon, Brigid, Rhea, Cerridwen and more.”

“But those are all the names of Pagan Goddesses. They shouldn’t get to use the titles of the Blessed Virgin Mary.”

She laughed again. “Don’t you understand? The ancient Goddesses had those titles long before I gave birth to Jesus. Yes, I am Mary, too. I keep those titles by right, They are all Me and I am all of Them. Who else but a Goddess can be the Mother of God?”

“This can’t be right. This can’t be right.” Father Larry repeated over and over, covering his face with his hands.

“This is Beltane, when spring is fully here and nature awakens. This is the time when life is full and we enact the Great Rite to partake in the great circle of life. Now you must perform it with Me and become My Priest.”

She gently pried his hands away from his face and kissed him again, deeply exploring his mouth with Her tongue. He was too stunned to resist. She let him go and stepped back one pace. Reaching up, She tossed Her veil to the ground, revealing Her long dark-brown hair. Then Her hands undid the clasp of her gown and it too was cast aside. She stood before him clad only in Her glory, too impossibly perfect to be mere human. Her flawless, creamy skin glowed with Her special light. Fr. Larry dropped to his knees before her. This was his undoing, for it put his eyes at the same level with the dark-brown tangle of hair that barely concealed Her sex. He covered his face again. Again, She raised him to his feet and then tried to propel him to the bed with Her hand against his bare chest.

“Where did my pajamas go?” He wondered, then gave a strangled little cry when he realized that he was entirely naked before Her. His hardness was waving in the air between them, completely visible to Her eyes. He stood stock-still, too shocked and embarrassed to move. Unable to get him to the bed by the gentle pressure of Her hands, She bodily picked him up like a child and deposited him on top of the sheets. He hadn’t realized how strong She really was. He lay back, helpless before Her. She kissed him again, finally teasing his tongue into responding to Hers. She guided his hands onto Her perfect breasts and then broke the kiss once more.

“This is your first lesson.” She whispered. “The first step in your initiation to be My Priest. All acts of pleasure and love are My rituals.”

She applied her mouth to him once more, but avoiding his lips and leaving a wet trail as She slid Her mouth down pendik escort bayan his body. Pausing only for a brief lick of his nipples and then his belly button, at last She reached his hard shaft. She took it completely into Her mouth, caressing it with Her tongue and gently scraping Her teeth along the length of it’s underside as she let most of it slide back out. She sucked on the head with light pressure and then She slid her lips along the sensitive length of the shaft taking it back into her mouth.

“Oh Blessed Mother!” Larry gasped. Unused to such stimulation, he quickly reached his climax, pumping his seed-filled liquid into Her mouth. She sucked it down until he was finished, then She licked her way back to his mouth where She let him taste his own moisture on Her lips.

“You have learned how to receive pleasure. That is the first lesson.” She breathed when She lifted Her head after the kiss. “Now for your second lesson, you must learn how to give pleasure.”

She guided his hand between Her legs and along the smooth skin of Her inner thighs until he reached the tangle of Her pubic hair. Taking one of his fingers, She moved the fingertip along Her lips, explaining each step of the way.

“Here are the outer lips, they guard the Pathway. Gently, gently spread them apart and you’ll find the inner lips waiting for your touch. They like to be massaged lightly but firmly. Yes, just like that, mmm. Don’t move on until you feel My wetness on your fingers. Ah, here it is, now it’s time to proceed.”

She pushed his fingers deeper into her folds.

“Now you come to the entrance to the womb, the Gate of Heaven. Dip your finger inside, slowly. Now two fingers, always be gentle. Do you feel it? Good, put a little pressure against the top of the inside. Easy… Oh yes, that’s right.” She paused for a few deep breaths before continuing. “Keep doing that until the wetness increases. Yes, yes. Now slide one finger out, easy, and move it upwards along My lips.”

She guided his hand with Hers.

“The little nub that you feel there is the clitoris, the seat of pleasure. Be very gentle with it when you rub it and never touch it when dry. Gently… Yes, oh yes, don’t stop. Keep your other finger inside the Gate of Heaven and move it, too. That’s it, don’t stop. K-keep a gentle pressure on the clitoris as you rub it. Oh please, oh yes, yes, yes. Oh!”

She had to pull his hand away from Her, he didn’t want to stop rubbing even after Her orgasm. They lay with their arms around each other, flushed and sweaty for a while before She was able to continue.

“Now comes the third part of your initiation. You must learn to share pleasure.”

She reached down and wrapped Her strong yet soft hand around his limp shaft. With only a few strokes, he was hard again.

“How did you do that? I thought I was finished for tonight.”

“That’s part of the magic of the Goddess. Now I can teach you to share pleasure fully. How two can become one and one can become all.” She rolled on top of him and arranged Herself carefully, chanting. “Foot to foot; knee to knee; breast to breast; lips to lips.” She kissed him quickly. “And lance to grail.”

As She said the last line slowly, She moved Her hips and he felt his shaft surrounded by Her soft wetness. Instinctively he swiveled his hips, burying himself deeper inside Her. She moaned and moved against him. They joined in a rhythm as old as life itself. He found himself becoming one with Her, sensing what She was sensing, his hardness surrounded by his wetness, moving himself inside himself. His consciousness expanded until, at the point of their simultaneous orgasm he felt like the entire universe shared in their climax.

Afterward his mind contracted back to its original confines, but somehow subtly changed. He realized that he could tap into that cosmic feeling whenever needed. This was far too much to absorb all at once. He realized that he was falling into a deep sleep, somehow comforted by feeling Her sacred weight resting on top of him with his arms clasped around Her. The last thing he heard, as consciousness slipped away, was Her voice murmuring,

“Well done, My faithful servant, My Priest. Now sleep and rest.”


Father Larry awoke and blinked at the morning sunshine streaming into the window. There was something odd, some nagging memory, but he couldn’t place it.

“I remember closing those blinds last night.” He said to himself, tossed the covers off and sat up, startled. “Where are my pajamas?”

He was completely naked under the sheets. He never slept in the nude. No Priest ever did in case there was an emergency in the night and also to prevent the temptation of masturbation. Then he remembered the dream. With an anguished cry he leapt off the bed to kneel beside it in prayer, to beg forgiveness for such an explicitly sexual dream. Right after crossing himself, but before he could bring his hands together in prayer, he stopped short. There on the bed were unmistakable signs of sexual activity. Stains of dried fluids clung to the rumpled sheets that were twisted in every direction. And there, imbedded in one large stain was a single, very long strand of dark-brown hair.

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