The confessor

"Harlot!" He screamed as the cat-o-nine slashed across her back, leaving rips in her white poet’s shirt. "Whore of Satan!" He cried again and let loose with another vicious strike. She cried out and fell to the ground, the ties about her wrists leaving her dangling like a rag doll.

He knelt beside her, his breathing fast and ragged, a drool of spittle dripped from his mouth and his face was twisted into a mask of pure anger. "Tell me. Tell me or I swear to Christ almighty I will beat it out of you."

"I do not know what you wish, Sir." She sobbed.

"I. . ." His breathing and gibbering maw nearly out of control in a state of religious gluttony. "I want you to confess. Confess to me and allow me to make you pure."

"Confess what?" She looked up at him and tried to look innocent.

"Co....Confe.....Confess what?!?!!" His face livid with rage. "You...yo...you....you make a mockery of me?"

"No. . ." But her denials fell on deaf ears. He jumped to his feat and began to beat her mercilessly. His spit and drool covering her as he leaned into each stroke. He was muttering and stammering Latin phrases as he beat her, small prayers for her soul.

"Now. You will confess. You will confess your sins. Your life of sins. Your evil nasty wicked sins!!!!" His voice rose to a roar as he grabbed her hair and made her look at his face. "I am not fooled by tears! I know thee Satan and I cast the out!" He let her drop again.

He strode away from her to a table out of her range of sight. She heard him drop the cat and begin to paw through the various devices. Clanging metal gave her tiny little terrifying glimpses into what might be there.

"No! You don't understand do you?" He was raving. "I am trying to save you girl!" He threw something against the stone wall. "Why must you resist me so?"

She sobbed and tried to stand but her legs were like willow branches, they bent and let her fall again. "I confess, Sir. I confess my sins. Please, Sir, mercy." She cried to him.

"See? Seeeeee? Satan has tricks! I knew you would offer me a false confession. I have my proof! My proof!" He was kneeling next to her again, a shiny evil knife in his hand. "Evil . . . like a sore upon our flesh . . . if mine eye offends thee. . ." He paused and smiled and shook in excitement.

"I knew. I knew you would offer me falsehoods first. That is the trick of Satan. I knew, girl, but not to worry. I am strong in my faith and I will help you. I will help you." His voice dropped to only a whisper. He stepped away and she hoped perhaps it was done. Maybe he was satisfied. Then the cold steel of the knife was against her skin.

She screamed as he began to cut away at her clothing. The blade was razor sharp and the cloth shredded with a delicious wet sound. He shoved a strip of her shirt into his mouth and sucked on it, drinking her sin in so that he would know it better as he stripped her bare.

"Before the Lord you are nude." He was mumbling and pacing as he ripped off the last of her clothing leaving her naked. The blood from her wounds on her back dripping down her skin and leaving long red trails like tears.

"Did you hear me?!!" He screamed and she shook in fear. "Before the Lord thou art nude and bare! Thou art nothing but flesh and soul. He knows what you have done! He knows your sins you slut! You whore! You Betrayer!"

Grabbing up a Bible he began paging through it, looking for verse and chapter to give him strength. Frustrated he slammed the hard bound Book shut and took it in both hands and rushed at her. "Do you see the Book of the Lord!?! The Holy Scripture!"

Grabbing her hair he forced her to stand by pulling her to her feet. Standing behind her he began to rub the leather of the book against her back. He watched the blood trails color the brown. . .

Like tears of a saint, he thought to himself.

He stood and shook and then cried out in anger and frustration. Swinging the Bible hard and low he hit her ass full force and sent her into one of posts she was tied to. She screamed in pain as her ass burned and her hip struck the wooden post. "WHORE!"

"Yes, Sir." She sobbed as she crumpled to the ground.

"What? What did you say?" He paused.

"Yes. Whore." Her voice was so tiny.

He trembled in joy. "Yes… more."

"Whore. I . . . Yes, Sir." She let her head hang.

"Yes." He said and nodded. He stepped back and dropped the bible to the floor. Reaching back he grabbed a leather strap flogger. He licked the falls and watched her as he stepped back up to her.

"Help me." She whispered.

"Yes." He nodded to her although she could not see him. "Yes. Help."

He was on the verge of religious epiphany as he raised the flogger and began to whip her, hard. The leather raised welts instantly as he let his arm rise and fall again and again. She wept as he beat her and he began to mumble prayers of hope and prayers of forgiveness. He whipped her harder and harder, helping her find the purity she had lost.

His brow heavy with sweat, his arm aching from the effort, he finally stopped. Her back, purple from the beating, blood mixed with the color and made it a deep hue . . . like sunset or dawn sky. She was beautiful.

"Confess." He whispered.

"Yes." She forced herself to turn her face to him. "Yes . . . Sin . . . Evil sin. Nasty sin. I have. . . my body. . .used. . . my mouth. . . my ass. . .my pussy. . . touched. . .licked. . .sucked. . .fucked. . . harder. . .harder!" Her eyes were hungry and her voice growing stronger with each word.

"Cocks . . . pussies. . . .Fucked hard . . . Harder . . . Deeper . . . Many . . . Many . . . so many. . . .Love it . . . More . . . More . . . MORE!" She screamed at him.

His eyes wide in awe, his face contorted in confusion . . . He stood and watched her. She writhed and laughed at him. He began to shake . . . Yes . . . He had done what he needed to do . . . he had forced Satan out to the open. Now the job must be finished.

Looking around frantically he found it and then grabbed the blade from the floor. She was screaming now about evil, unnatural acts and mocking him and his vows. He was shaking, excited . . . Afraid . . . aroused . . . But focused.

Stepping up before her he looked down at her and loved her like no man had ever loved her before. Taking the knife in one hand he looked into her eyes as he pressed the blade gently into the flesh and drew a red line and let blood spill.

She screamed and he shook harder, almost unable to stand as he held his bloody hand up and smote her with the blood, splashing a cross upon her and speaking Latin prayers. She screamed and cursed him, her body jerking against her bonds. The blood slashed back and the cross was complete on her nude flesh. She grew quiet and slumped to the ground.

He knelt beside her and whispered softly in her ear. "This wine is my blood." He placed his hand to her lips and she drank of him. "Drink of me and know your sins are forgiven."

She began to weep and he could see that she was made pure again. The blood staining her lips red like a harlot, but her soul was pure. Upon her brow he traced a cross and she closed her eyes and slept. His job finished, the confession given.

He rose and walked away. His job was complete.