Mistress Triboda stormed into the Administration Office and pulled out the top drawer of the ancient and battered filing cabinet. The One Whole Earth and True Religion didn't give a damn about her far flung Temples, just the amount of shekels Luxor could squeeze out of them. Snatching the red punishment file, she slammed it open on the desk beside her.
"What was it this time," a sympathetic voice came from the main counter. Mistress Triboda glanced up to see the clerk standing beside the counter.
"Anekhsenamun refused Priest Jeremy." Mistress Triboda particularly hated the fact that the OWETR actually realised that the Priests were men, and that men had needs and actively recruited girls to fill that need. Something that she had brought up time and time again, and had been shot down time and time again. With the same old tired excuse that it meant that the Priest would keep hands off children and. anyway, the Priestesses over at the competing World Delphic Religion did the same thing. Just in reverse. Every time Mistress Triboda heard that piece of logic her right arm started to tingle. True, the Priests were supposed to confine their needs to those who wished to learn the baser ritualistic types of magic, but it didn't always work out that way.
"Ummm, there is no Priest Jeremy here." The clerk looked confused.
"And I'm willing to bet," Misress Triboda snarled, "that none came calling either."
"Then how...," the clerk began. "Ap Nud," she finished.
"A sealed note," Mistress Triboda said, finishing writing up the punishment log, and slamming the folder back into the drawer. "I'm willing to bet Anekhsenamun knew what was in it too."
"And did you..."
"I gave her the standard lecture, then I put a pillow over her butt and gave her the strokes she had coming. Just so I could record the infraction, the fact that she had come to me, and had received the required amount of strokes." Mistress Triboda sighed. "I'd go to the Priest but Ap Nud's his favourite and he's got a rather blind eye when it comes to her."
"Maybe if you wrote a letter to their parents," the clerk suggested. "About how their daughters are being treated."
"What good would that do?"
"Probably not much," the clerk admitted. "Most of them are gullible enough that the Priest will win them around. Eventually. But it might be enough to delay donations and Luxor is begging for cash."
"Might be worth a try." Mistress Triboda thought. "Okay, give me addresses for the thirds years and below. Those are the ones she usually terrorizes."