Feedback: Rebecca's Revenge

[Alex Bragi]

I've just finished, well, just about finished a new story. I realise it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea--it's about priest who has his penis hacked off by a woman he's molested as a child, but I wanted to write something different. Please, if you're a theist, or more particularly a Christian, don't get offended just back click now.

I've been over it, but I particularly need to know if I've missed any typos, spelling or grammar mistakes, and if the puctuation is correct. I've choosen to write it back to front, so is easy enough to follow? Does it all make sense? Are you able to envisage what's happening? And, most imporant of all, to me, if you weren't reading it for the specific purpose of giving feedback, would you have still read it all?

Thank you in advance,

Alex

"Revenge is mine, saith the Lord!"

Rebecca's 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. Scowling then closing her eyes she 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 sweet revenge. No longer begging and pleading for mercy, his deathly silence washed her with a peace and tranquillity she had once thought un 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..."

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 make yourself righteous and clean. No-one may not enter the kingdom of heaven with tainted and impure thoughts of vengeance and loathing in their heart. You must rid yourself of the unpaid misdeeds of those who have sinned against you. You must purge yourself of these wicked things!

Just a short time earlier his tears had fallen freely as he begged her. "No, Rebecca! Please! Don't!"

'No Father Benedict! 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.

Her fresh and lovely face now 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 gapping wound to splatter over her pale skin before forming an ever-widening stain on the thick cream rug 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, then with full and hateful vigour she slashed silver blade across his tembling 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 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 his face, and his eyes dropped open to stare vacantly up at the ceiling.

"Praise the Lord."

Rebecca held the severed phallic up and 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.

Two hours earlier an elderly priest and a fresh faced young woman sat opposite each other in the front room of his chuch's parish. She balanced a cup and a saucer demourly on her stockng clad knees. He pursed his lips and stared down at the floor glasping, and unglasping, his sweaty hands before snapping, "You shouldn't have come."

"I had to."

"After all these years?"

"Yes. We have unfinishe business, you and I."

"You bore the sins of Eve in your soul, all women do!" His voice held a snear.

She hesititated then leaned over and 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 the cup he took a few sips. His pudgy hands trembled and his minded raced with just one question--why had she come back? He frowned and took a few more sips. He felt strange; dizzy and light headed. It was her! Yes, it had to be. Her wicked and lustful presence tempting him just like it had all those years ago. It couln't have been his fault. It had to be hers. Rebecca--a daughter of the original sinner!

Flicking a quick glace up her, he couldn't help but notice her fine white blouse straining against the fullness of her young ripe breasts. Beads of sweat began to form on his temple as once again he began to feel a familiar stiring in his groin. He let out an audible sigh, then said a silent prayer, "Forgive me Father, for I am like Adam. I am tempted by evils of this wicked woman..."

The room began to spin. He tried to stand up. Everything went black, black as the deepest depths of hell.

Thirty minutes later, Rebecca watched quietly as Father Paul blinked and laboured against heavy lids to open his eyes. Nake but for her silk panties, she now slide those down her long legs before kneeling beside hime. As his vision became clearer, he swallowed and then gasped. Surely an angel of heavenly beauty and innocences had floated down to knelt beside him. Instincitively he ran his thick tongue over his lips. Had he perhaps reached the celestial heights of heaven as he has envisaged them in his darkest and most nefarious fantasies? He tried to lift himiself, 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 stuggled to imagine how he had come to be laying on the floor.

"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 is his tea! 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. And, his ankles secured tightly with a nylon rope, were now separated by an elaborate mangle of knots attached by one length around the base of the large sideboard cupboard.

"Release me!"

A smug little smile formed on her lovely lips. "You must help me cleanse myself of the the sins of Eve. You remember, don't you, Father?"

"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 the precarious situation he had found himself in, he now began to panic, "Rebecca, God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more sorrow, or crying. There shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away... Revelations two... " he couldn't quite remember the rest of the verse, but he hope and prayed that he might be able to convince her to heed his desperate pleads.

She smiled 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 all disappeared.

Stripped of his overly modest clothing, but not his ungodly lust, he now 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 bodily pleasure.

Rebecca, leaned over him, her firm nipples grazing his belly and chest as she pressed herself up against his quivering body. His erection now pressed hard up against the softness of her public hair, and her warm breath caressed his neck. She lay there for several minutes, before lifting herself up and then running one hand down his belly.

Forgetting everything, he closed his eyes to savour the warmth of her body so close to his. Her breathing had become a heavy and excited pant as she leaned down and the moistness of her breath caressed his hardness. With each movement she made, he felt an increased throbbing between his legs. Within just a short time minutes, 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. What could he do? What power does a man have against the temptations of a woman?

His euphorisa was cut short and his eyes flashed open as she sat up to suddenly point accusingly down at his groin, announcing: "Behold Satan's evil tool!"

"No, no!" He countered, panic now overtaking his lust. " It is the tool of man. I am a son of Adam!"

She hesitated, his words had violated the pure thoughts of 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!"

As she knelt there, he gained a full and clear view of her. He swallowed and shared unashamedly at her long dark curls, falling over her delicate shoulders and breasts to teasingly licking at her pert nipples. He let his gaze drop. A small slither of glisteing pink flesh peeped though the dark whisps of hair that now covered her once bare cloven sex. 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 to allow himslelf to be taken by the pleasures of the flesh.

For a moment Rebeccas stared up at the large wood cross on the far wall of the room. Tears began to form her eyes, just as they had all those years ago, each time she had prayed fot he suffering to stop. The cross, the symbol of suffering, her suffering each time he coerced her into that that musky 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 and brings us closer to all things pure and heavenly.
Rebecca had suffered so much. Rebecca could now do no wrong. Rebecca had ceased to sin.

She stood up, and walk over the where the crusaifix hung on the wall. Sharing up at it for a moment she hesitated than 'crossed' herself before reaching up and removed it. Turning, back towards him, she closed her eyes and whispered a pray before returning to him.

Placing the end of the cross between his legs she pressed it firmly up against 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 sphinster to force it deep inside. He screamed and his face contored with 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 further.

Sixteen years earlier a little girl found herself orphaned and homeless. As she sat the the steps of the town's local church, tears welled up in her innocent dark eyes, as she wondered what the future would bring.

[ElectricBadger]

First, the technical stuff. Don't be too overwhelmed -- I'm bored and a literature geek, a bad combo. And as always, feel free to ignore anything I suggest, my ego is far too hefty to be impacted

Scowling then closing her eyes she inhaled a deep breath

Sounds a bit awkward, I'd insert a couple commas at least, or revise the fragment. S/A "She scowled, closed her eyes, then inhaled a deep breath"

un unattainable

bible

-> Bible
A strange and slightly jarring transition from P2 to P3; the first mentions "sweet revenge," but the next starts out calling it an ugly emotion, graphically.

No-one may not enter the kingdom of heaven

Very awkward double negative.

Her fresh and lovely face now contorted,

The "Now" seems to imply a transition back to the present, ie after the murder; I'd suggest removing it.

gapping

-> gaping

his now aged body

The "now" again sounds awkward, implying another shift in time that isn't supposed to be there.

phallic

-> phallus

stockng

glasping, and unglasping

Glasping?

unfinishe

snear

hesititated

his minded raced

-> mind

Nake

she now slide those

-> slid

hime

Instincitively

And, his ankles

Technically a sentence should never start with "and;" you can break that without much problem, but the comma should go -- it initiates an unnecessary pause.

large sideboard cupboard.

Too many boards.

There shall there be any more pain

Awkward

Rebecca, leaned over him,

Remove the first comma

euphorisa

thoughts of task

insert "the"

glisteing

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 to allow himslelf to be taken by the pleasures of the flesh.

Change punctuation to: "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, prepared to allow himslelf to be taken by the pleasures of the flesh."

Rebeccas

fot he

<The cross, the symbol of suffering, her suffering each time> he coerced her into that that musky smelling room to be alone with him.

Sentence fragment; needs a verb. "was"?

She stood up, and walk

no comma, walk -> walked

crusaifix

than 'crossed' herself

-> then; no quotes around crossed, it's not a euphemism

Turning, back towards him,

Remove first comma.

whispered a pray

-> prayer

contored

sobbed, like

no comma


End of the technical part


To answer your questions, while it's not particularly hard to follow I don't think you should jump around so much. Specifically you give away the beginning and end in the first 1/4 of the work, which means the rest is just...the rest. It leaves an incomplete story arc and leaves a very unsatisfying ending (we know what the future brings; we just read it; we don't even have to think about it for a second once we're done reading). The intro is very good, and I like the idea of beginning with the end, but when you start your flashbacks I'd highly recommend making them sequential. Particularly, although you alluded to it you never used any of the "little girl" flashbacks to actually add to the plot; either remove them all or utilize them to tell the story instead of the memories of the "earlier that evening" time frame.

I can visualize some of what's going on rather graphically; you got the gore down well but other than 'he's between her knees' and a brief mention of her poise near the end, you never actually say what they look like. At one point his blood spattered in her pubic hair and I was surprised to learn she was nude (it was mentioned in a later time frame, but not that one).

For all that, I was very impressed with the work. You're a great author, and this has a ton of potential. I think you stretched a bit too far to create an intricate structure at the cost of the story (as your question implies you already know), and that needs either some more tweaking and transitioning or a reworking to prevent interference with your story. That you came up with the structure at all and made it work reasonably well is a testament to your imagination and skill. When you pause to focus on description your language is amazing; a couple more pauses is all that's needed for elaboration. Well, and a quick spell check

I'd definitely read this just for pleasure, and I look forward to seeing what you do with it!

[Alex Bragi]

Thank you so much, Electric Badger, this is exactly what I need.

Please, would you be interested in reading it again, maybe via email, when I've corrected and reworked it?

Thank you again, I really appreciate the time you've taken.

Alex

[Mad Lews]

I've just finished, well, just about finished a new story. I realise it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea--it's about priest who has his penis hacked off by a woman he's molested as a child, but I wanted to write something different. Please, if you're a theist, or more particularly a Christian, don't get offended just back click now.

I've been over it, but I particularly need to know if I've missed any typos, spelling or grammar mistakes, and if the punctuation is correct. I've chosen to write it back to front, so is easy enough to follow? Does it all make sense? Are you able to envisage what's happening? And, most important of all, to me, if you weren't reading it for the specific purpose of giving feedback, would you have still read it all?

Thank you in advance,

Alex

Wow Alex ,
You sure go for the power play on this one. Yeah picking on pedophile priests is a bit like taking pot shots at fish in a barrel but you manage to bring some stark and vulgar life into the story. I know EB has filled you in on every typo and nuance and I'll never be able to compete with that but just a heads up. You can white wash a number of grammar Faux Pas by including them within a quote. Just be consistent and keep those grammatical idiosyncrasies to a character's "Voice". The sad truth is most of us don't speak with perfect grammar and diction and there's no reason your characters should either. Makes them more memorable if they have a few linguistic quirks. Just don't overdo it.
The story itself; yes I'd read it more out of morbid curiosity than any real driving interest. As I may have mentioned, I was raised in the wild by Jesuits, so I might be a little prejudice. Not my cup of tea but a powerful tale none the less.

First, the technical stuff. Don't be too overwhelmed -- I'm bored and a literature geek, a bad combo. And as always, feel free to ignore anything I suggest, my ego is far too hefty to be impacted

Damn Electric Badger,
Now I've got a bad case of 'Proof Reader Envy'.
Do you get bored often?
Can I send you a couple chapters?
Could I handle it?
Mad Lews

[Alex Bragi]

Thanks Mad. Reading your feedback and giving it some thought, I think as it stands this story is going to have a very limited readership. It's not going to appeal to men for obvious reasons, and it's not going to appeal to women because there's simply nothing erotic or romantic about it. I need to address that.

I'm going to take EB's advice and weave in some more detail about the characters' looks, and since this is an erotic story web site—some sex also.

I always enjoy reading what you say, Mad Lew, and how you say it, and I'm sorry I forgot about you and the Jesuits. *gg *

And, Mad Lew, I still love you both!

Alex

[ElectricBadger]

Heh I get bored a lot, unfortunately I'm usually busy at the same time...work does that And yes, anyone can feel free to post anything here for review or send it to me; I can't make any promises at all (so don't be disappointed if I take a looooong time to reply or even don't) but I really enjoy the writing process and I think I'm a better editor than a writer.

My email is electric badger accessories @ yahoo.com (remove the spaces, naturally).

[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 an elderly priest leaned back in his favour 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 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," 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 podgy 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 form on his temple as once more he began to feel 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 revealing 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 legs at that moment.

Rebecca leaned over; then cupping her lovely pump breasts in her hands, liftied them as if offering them to him, while gently rubbed 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 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 has 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 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 any more pain, for the former things are passed away... Revelations two... " He couldn't quite remember the rest of the verse, but he hope 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 licking 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 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 wood cross on the far wall of the room, tears began to form her eyes, just as they had all those years ago, each time she had prayed for he 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 long time, she could now do no wrong. Rebecca had ceased to sin. Father needed to suffer now.

She stood up and walked over the where the crucifix hung. Staring up at it for a moment she hesitated then crossed herself before reaching up and removed 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 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 gapping 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.

[Mad Lews]

Hi Alex,
It still has punch in the re-reading. The new perspectives and details flesh it out nicely. BTW phallic is the adjective of phallus the noun. (quick change that before eb sees! I'll try to distract her.)
Hey EB,
Nice boots ya got there. Not to put the cart before the horse but do ya have an outfit that matches those? Hold on a moment, let me just check I think I have a buggy whip around here somewhere….
Mad

[Alex Bragi]

Hi Alex,
It still has punch in the re-reading. The new perspectives and details flesh it out nicely. BTW phallic is the adjective of phallus the noun. (quick change that before eb sees! I'll try to distract her.)

Done! *hugs* Thanks, Mad, you're always kind to me.

[chromedome11]

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.

Good story, Alex, even if it's not my kink. My proposed editing changes are embedded -- underline is remove, and bold insert. Hopefully they all came through.

[Alex Bragi]

Thank you so much Cromedome11, I really appreciate you taking time to read and edit this, particularly since it's not your genre. I'm going to begin correcting and culling now.

Thanks again,
Alex

[chromedome11]

Thank you so much Cromedome11, I really appreciate you taking time to read and edit this, particularly since it's not your genre. I'm going to begin correcting and culling now.

Thanks again,
Alex

If you want more feedback, I would have her tease him more. Especially before she stuffs the cross up his ass. She could force him to confess his sins, and, depending on where you want to go with the story, the sins of his religion. Another idea would be to have her jack him off before she cuts off his dick -- pleasure to pain in one quick motion. Without wanting to demean any of the work, I thought the quality of the writing improve through the piece. I especially liked some of the phasing in part 4.

[Alex Bragi]

If you want more feedback, I would have her tease him more. Especially before she stuffs the cross up his ass. She could force him to confess his sins...

Actually, I think that's an excellent suggestion!

Again, thank you.

Alex

[ElectricBadger]

btw, very nice Alex, I like the revisions. Sorry it took me so long to get back to ya, I saw Chrome had done a marvelous job of reviewing though! Glad to hear you've found all the feedback helpful, I think your story has improved a ton!!!