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.