Originally Posted by
Alex Bragi
OK, well, since EB said it's ok for me to post this again, I am. :)
Please, have I missed any typos, spellos, and any other little glitches? Is it all clear to read now? (I've changed a few paragraphs around too--you're right, EB, the start is better at the start, and the ending is better at the end. )
I not sure if I should include Part Four, or not. Is this part necessary? Or should it be left to the reader's imagination?
Many thanks in advance,
Alex :)
Revenge is an ugly emotion. It's a poison that threatens the very purity of your soul. It's an abscess that time allows to fester into a ghastly wound. The more you try to fight it, the stronger it becomes until you feel as if it controls your very being. It's a frightful demon that possesses you and needs to be exorcised. You must free yourself if you are to be righteous and clean. You can not enter the kingdom of heaven with tainted and impure thoughts of vengeance and loathing in your heart. You must purge yourself of the misdeeds of those who have sinned against you.
Part One:
As anthe elderly priest leaned back in his favourfavourite armchair and began sorting through his mail, a knock at his door disturbed him. Who could it be on, a Tuesday, his day off? He ran his hand over his balding head, sighed and lifted his cumbersome body up before waddling across the room. He opened the door and he stood there in stunned[superfluous] disbelief.
"Rebecca?"
"You remember me Father."
"Of course I do, but why have you come back?"
"I had to come, you know I did."
"Money? Is that what you want? I have none, you must know that," he snapped.
She stifled a sneer, and readjusted the oversized bag slung across her shoulder before responding, "Money? Money is the root of all evil, Father." She hesitated and looked around at the path and road at the front of the parish. "Please, must we talk out here?"
Staring at her for a moment, he realised just how much she changed in a little over a decade. Her eyes were still large and deep blue; her features near perfect and, through the cover of her soft flowing dress, he observed her body had matured into a full and womanly form.
"Alright, you'd better come in," he said, his mouth twitching nervously as he stood to one side.
Part Two:
The elderly priest and fresh faced young woman sat opposite each other in the front room of his church's parish. She balanced a cup and a saucer demurely on her knees. He pursed his lips and stared down at the floor clasping, and unclasping, his sweaty hands before snapping, "You shouldn't have come."
"I told you, Father, I had to come."
"After all these years?"
"Yes. We have unfinished business, you and I—confession."
"You bore the sins of Eve in your soul, all women do!" His voice held a sneer.
She hesitated then leaned over to gently nudged his hand, "Please Father, drink your tea, then we will pray, and I promise I will leave and you will never see me again."
Those words brought a faint smile to her lips.
Lifting his cup he took a few sips. His podgypudgy hands trembled and his minded raced with just one question—why has she come? He frowned and took a few more sips. He felt strange;, dizzy and light headed. It was she! Yes, it had to be—her wicked and lustful presence tempting him just like it had all those years ago. It couldn't be his fault. It had to be her, Rebecca—a daughter of Eve, the original sinner!
Flicking her a quick glance, he couldn't help but notice the fine fabric of her dress straining against the fullness of her round, ripe breasts. Soon beads of sweat began to formformed on his temple as once more he began to feelfelt a familiar stirring in his groin. He said a silent prayer, "Forgive me, Lord, for I am tempted by evils of this wicked woman..."
Rebecca noticed where his eyes had strayed. She placed her cup on the table and, smiling, slowly traced a single finger over her neckline. "You like what you see?"
His breathing became heavier as his eyes locked on her breasts. The mesmerised expression on his face pleased her.
Rebecca's knew the time had come. Partially closing her eyes she ran her wet tongue over her full lips and began unbuttoning the front of her dress to revealingreveal her nubile bare breasts. Overcome with his own lust and powerless to stop her, he watched as she stood up and let the dress slip down around her feet. As she stepped out of it he blinked and noticed, for the first time, her shoes—high, shiny, and black—the same colour as her skimpy satin panties. His hand trembled as he managed to place his cup and saucer down on the table beside him.
She took a step towards him; he gulped audibly and then almost collapsed backwards in his chair. Closing his eyes for a moment he tried to gather his thoughts, but it was all too late and, as he inhaled her sweet feminine scent, lustful memories began to flood into his head, drowning him in his own salacious desires.
"Oh, God!" he muttered, but even God himself couldn't have prevented that throbbing need between the old priest's his legs at that moment.
Rebecca leaned over; then cupping her lovely pumpplump breasts in her hands, liftiedlifting them as if offering them to him, while gently rubbedrubbing the nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
"The forbidden fruit is fully ripe now, Father." She smiled and lifted one breast, before parting her lips and flicking her wet tongue across the nipple.
He felt a strange and unfamiliar tingling through his body as the room began to spin. He tried to stand up but couldn't, then everything went black, black as the deepest depths of hell.
Part Three:
Thirty minutes later Rebecca, disrobed of her all all her earthly covering, knelt quietly on the floor as he blinked and laboured against heavy lids to open his eyes. As his vision became clearer, he swallowed and looked up. Surely an angel of heavenly beauty and innocence had floated down to be beside him. Instinctively he ran his thick tongue over his lips. Had he perhaps reached the celestial heights of heaven as he hashad envisaged them in his darkest and most nefarious fantasies? He tried to lift himself, but a dull throbbing pain in his head quickly confirmed that indeed he had not. An odd mixture of floor wax and sweet femininity filled his nostrils as he struggled to imagine how he had come to be lying on the floor. . He blinked again, and as he began to gain full consciousness, his memory became clearer.
"You remember now, don't you, Father? A woman's beauty is her moral sin. "
He responded with a pained groan. The tea, she had slipped something in it! He tried to sit up, but this time it wasn't his aching head that prevented his movement. Frowning, he glanced to the left and then the right. His wrists had been secured by metal cuffs that in turn had been secured to the foot of the heavy settee he had been sitting on. His ankles, too, had been secured tightly with a nylon rope were now separated by an elaborate mangle of knots attached by one length around the base of a large cupboard.
"Release me!"
A faint smile formed on her lovely lips. "You must help me cleanse myself of the sins of Eve. You remember, don't you, Father?"
He sighed. "Rebecca, this is ridiculous. Release me immediately!"
Reaching down, she picked up a large silver knife from the floor beside her, then holding it up she slowly ran her finger over the blade, wincing slightly in mock pain.
Realising the precarious situation he had found himself in, he began to feel a grip of panic.
"Rebecca, God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more sorrow, or crying. There shall there be anyno more pain, for the former things are passed away... Revelations two... " He couldn't quite remember the rest of the verse, but he hopehoped and prayed that he might be able to convince her to heed his desperate pleads.
She smiled contentedly, then calmly and without another word, began to systematically slice away at the priest's robe. Despite his protests and attempts to reason with her, within minutes his earthly disguise of righteousness had disappeared. She tossed the knife down on the floor.
Stripped of his overly modest clothing, but not his ungodly lust. He had a full and raging erection. He knew it. She had come to take him again, to tempt him with her evil ways. He must resist the temptations of his body's pleasure.
As she knelt there, he gained a full and clear view of her nubile body. Swallowing and sharing unashamedly at her long dark curls, falling over her delicate shoulders and breasts to teasingly lickinglick at her pert nipples. He let his gaze drop. A small slither of glistening pink flesh peeped though the dark wisps of hair that now covered her once bare temptation. Tiny beads of sweat began to form on his face. Tomorrow, he would be a repentant man; now however, powerless to defend himself against her wicked temptation he took a deep breath and, like so many times before, he prepared himself to be taken by the pleasures of the flesh.
Rebecca leaned over, her firm nipples grazed his belly and chest as she pressed herself down against his quivering and flabby flesh. His erection now pressed hard up against the softness of her pubic hair, and her face nuzzled against his sagging neck. For several minutes she lay there before lifting herself up on one hand, then running the other down his belly. Forgetting everything, he closed his eyes to savour her touch. Her breath became a heavy and excited pant as she moved further down his body to lean over him, and the moistness of her breath caressed his hardness. With each movement she made, he felt an increased pressure between his legs. What could he do? What power does a man have against the temptations of one who is in league with the serpent of Satan? In no time at all, he found himself being lulled and seduced by her, just like he had before. Her sweet scent; her soft voice; her very presence intoxicated him.
"Behold Satan's evil tool!" She announced accusingly, shattering his euphoric state, as she pointed down at his groin. His eyes flashed open, as he desperately tried to counter her accusation, "No, no!" Panic overtaking his lust, "It's the tool of man. I am a son of Adam!"
She hesitated; his words violated the pure thoughts of the task she had been sent to perform. She felt confused, then in a voice lowered and trembling with determination, she continued, "Liar! You are an evil servant of Satan!"
Turning her attention to a large wooden cross on the far wall of the room, tears began to form in her eyes, just as they had all those years ago, each time she had prayed for heher suffering to stop. The cross was the symbol of suffering—her suffering each time he coerced her into that that musty smelling room to be alone with him. Suffering brings us closer to God. Jesus suffered for our sins. Suffer the little children. Suffering makes us stronger. Suffering brings us closer to all things pure and heavenly. So many thoughts filled her head, confusing her, making it hard to remember…hard to think…
She stiffened then took a deep breath as if to reinforce her resolve.
Rebecca had suffered. Rebecca had suffered for such a long time, she could now do no wrong. Rebecca had ceased to sin. Father needed to suffer now.
She stood up and walked over theto where the crucifix hung. Staring up at it for a moment she hesitated then crossed herself before reaching up and removeding it. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer before turning and walking back to kneel beside him once more. Placing the end of the cross between his legs she pressed it firmly on his anus. His eyes widened in shock. "Rebecca! What are you doing?"
No reply.
She bit down on the side of her low lip and with one lunge managed to tear past his tight sphincter to force it deep inside. He screamed and his face contorted in terror and pain. Tears began to stream down the sides of his face as he sobbed, like a terrified child in pain,. Rebecca observed with cool indifference. Then glaring down at him, and with firm and determined hand, she forced it in further.
"No, Rebecca! Please! Don't…" He cried out and his body jerked violently as agony interrupted his pleads.
"No Father! Please, please don't..." The trembling voice of a child echoed inside her head, her own words taunting and torturing her as they had for years. After today, they would haunt her no more.
"Please, Rebecca. I beg you!" His pleads were like torturous barbs tearing open old wounds that, with time, had become toxic with bitterness and disgust urging her on and giving her the divine strength required to do what needed to be done.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways.
His chest heaved and his aging face glistened with sweat as he twisted and struggled, unable to free himself free himself from the agonising impalement.
Panting heavily, Rebecca hesitated as if trying regaining her strength. She looked down at the shiny blade resting on is tattered robe, then picked up it up.
"Rebecca, no!" he gasped.
Her lovely face contorted, and her eyes blackened with rage as she mined deep into her soul for the lode of ice cold hatred hidden beneath the guise of beauty, youth, and innocence for so many years. Grabbing hold of his flaccid organ, she slashed the blade across his scrotum. He howled—a hollow scream that caused her to hesitate and recoil as his blood sprayed from the gappinggaping wound to splatter over her pale skin before forming an ever-widening stain on the floor beneath.
God's children must be strong and brave.
"Please, Rebecca..." he pleaded, his voice now low and husky—almost a whisper between his whimpering and sniffling.
Ignoring him, she wrapped her blood-smeared fingers around his vile tool and lifting the knife again.
He gasped, and his watery eyes widened and bulged.
"Please. No!"
A smug grin formed on her lovely lips as she stared down at him. She nodded, and then with full and hateful vigour she slashed silver blade across his trembling flesh to sever the evil tool from his convulsing body. A heavy gush of his warm blood squirted up over her belly and trickled down between her legs soaking her soft pubic hair.
He screamed—a long harrowing squall of pain. She closed her eyes for moment—every minute of his suffering needed to be savoured. No longer a strong or young man, how much could his now aged body take? His mouth dropped open and his lower lip quivered slightly before his face reddened and his lips appeared to swell up and turn an odd shade of purple. He gasped a couple of times as if unable to breath, then the flush of colour drained from him, and his eyes dropped open to stare vacantly up at the ceiling.
"Revenge is mine, saith the Lord!"
Her words bellowed triumphantly, as glistening tears streamed down her soft cheeks; at last she could hold her head up high and proud. The limp and lifeless body that lay naked between her spread knees had earlier screamed a chorus of agony, but now the mouth refused to sing another note of suffering. She scowled, closed her eyes, then inhaled a deep breath—his filthy blood reeked of evil. The stench of a sinner! Yes, but not enough to eliminate the gratifyingly unsoured scent of revenge. No longer begging and pleading for mercy, his deathly silence washed her with a peace and tranquillity she had once thought unattainable. She smiled then reached across to pick up the tattered Bible resting on the small table; holding it to her bosom. She beamed and whispered, "Praise the Lord. Cleansed—cleansed at last..."
Holding the severed phallus up high, she let the warm blood trickle down her arm. Today she had done a brave and noble thing. Angels in heaven would rejoice that one of Satan's servants had been slain.
"Praise the Lord."
Part Four—epilogue: Sixteen years earlier a little girl found herself orphaned and homeless. As she sat the steps of the town's local church, tears welled up in her innocent dark eyes, as she wondered what the future would bring.
