Every spring four young women are sent to me. Damaged and hand chosen, they come to further their vows here within the walls of The Final Cross. It’s like a breath of fresh air. Its beauty and secrets hidden within the mountains of South Dakota, with nowhere else to turn but to religion. Flocking to faith like kittens to the tit. Hurt by love. Rejected and mistreated by a world they so desperately desired acceptance from. Broken by a society that devours them whole and spits out the pieces. Leaving whatever life they had behind for obedience, for discipline, for the Church. Hungry to serve. Thirsty for guidance. All looking to me to fill their emptiness. To bestow unto them some self-worth. Seeking salvation. But I have my needs too.
The need to feed my gluttony, to take a taste from the tree, to binge on the forbidden fruit, so sweet, so satisfying and oh so wrong. But it’s an unspoken agreement between God and me. It’s my reward for my declaration. My payment for my expense. They come like lambs and I am their shepherd, giving them the things that they only pray for in private. Forgiveness, passion, submission, acceptance, and more importantly what they yearn for the most, love.
Special Thank You!
Victoria Craig, none of this would have been possible without you. You are my ride or die and a true blessing. This project stands as not just a story but our dedication and hard work.
I couldn’t have imagined that I would be able to work with an amazing woman as well as one of my best friends! Hell, you are family! Here is to many more adventures and books in our future!
Thank you for being here with me on this amazing ride!
-Anthony-
Copyright © 2020 by Anthony Vidal
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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Printed in the United States of America
To Some Special People:
Patricia Cordovez
Kay Cordell
Angela Crowell
Kristi Figuero
Denise Carey Gibavic
Dede Long
Lyndse Tennant
Katrina Tiger Kat
Lynn Angela Stifle
Amazing ladies at Paranormal Hunger
Terri and the team at Vext’s Vixens
Special Shout Out
Anthony’s Toy Box
You guys have been my rock!
Thank You
“We write to taste life twice in the moment.”
-Anais Nin-
“To a great mind, nothing is little.”
–unknown-
“A room without books is like a body without a soul.”
-Cicero-
“Books are uniquely portable magic.”
-Stephen King-
“Dare to do things that scare you.”
-unknown-
“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.”
-Gustave Flaubert-
Within the dark fenced in acre of manicured Georgia lawn, sits the Saint Thomas home for girls. Tonight was almost as typical as any other, except the cool wind has brought with it an uninvited chill to the southern air. By day, Saint Thomas over fills with life. The sound of laughter and teenage girls muttering amongst themselves fills its now empty, pitch black silent halls.
A strict 8 o’clock curfew, punishable to any occupant who does not follow the rules, gives the home an abandoned prison presence. Lights out and in bed. No one dares challenge the head Mothers wrath.
Except for Faith, who lays quietly awake within the dark.
She stares endlessly up at the growing cracks within the ceiling.
Her hands tucked snuggly beneath her pillow. This is not anything new to Faith. Unlike most nights, she is unable to think herself to sleep. She lies perfectly still with her eyes wide open and just her thoughts to keep her company, well that and the rats that play within the homes walls.
She finds herself turning to yesterday’s longing question. How did I end up here? She often wonders.
She had contemplated running away many times, but she had nowhere to run to.
Her mother had succumbed to her filthy addictions when Faith was only six years old. She was too young to remember or maybe she had intensely forgotten, but whichever it was, she didn’t piss and moan about the hand she was dealt. She did however find herself thinking of her father regularly. She had never met the man. She didn’t even know his name. She had guessed the taste was just too bitter to even dare say it aloud. But it didn’t stop her from thinking about him. Silly things like, what was his favorite color? Was it blue like hers?
But nonetheless it didn’t change the fact that even though she was surrounded by people, she still felt even more alone. She tried to not give it much thought, losing herself in the daily routines that came with living in a house ran by Nuns. With each day that passed she grew further and further away from the place she called home in Texas. The now eighteen year old, blonde haired, green eyed girl with a country drawl was left to figure out her purpose.
Faith was profoundly grateful for the Sisters taking her in. She just didn’t see herself as a Nun. She was not like the others. Her natural beauty set her apart from the rest.
They all came from broken backgrounds. They wanted to be here.
They deserved to be here. She however, felt unworthy and incapable of being in Gods good graces.
Suddenly her attention is drawn to the bright lights that briefly breaks the darkness through her rooms window.
Curious, she uncovers her bare feet from the warm blanket and places one foot softly onto the cold slab floor. Then the other. Quickly sliding off the edge of the mattress, Faith tiptoes over to the hazy pane glass.
Taking the frilly cuff of her nightgown sleeve, she wipes a clear spot in order get a better look.
The gusty breeze has made it nearly impossible to see the dark van idling at the school’s front steps. A light from the hall abruptly peeks beneath her door. A startled Faith swiftly springs back to bed as it swings open and Sister Helen stands in its entry way.
“Get your coat, we haven’t much time.” Faith stutters frantically.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s not time for your silliness child. We have to go now.”
“What about my things? I’m not even dressed, Sister.”
“Trust in thy Father, he will provide for your needs.
Now come with me.” Sister Helen demands, cuffing her hands around one of Faith’s small wrist. Faith desperately clenches onto her jacket before she is torn from the comforts of her confines. The Sister marches her down the hall. Her bare feet slapping against the faded marble surface.
“Where are we going, Sister?” Faith insisted to know.
“You have been chosen to serve the Good Shepherd.”
Sisters answer only provided more confusion. She is ushered to the mysterious waiting van.
The side door suddenly slides open and Faith is corralled inside. Her eyes quickly meet the same terrified glances of three other girls before she is forcefully seated and strapped in.
She can hear her heart beating as if someone
was knocking on the inside of her chest.
Sister Helen leans over her and delicately whispers,
“You’re in God’s hands now child. Don’t be afraid.”
The door slams shut. She watches from the tinted window until the Sister and the home vanishes into the murky back drop.
The adrenaline has slightly subsided for the moment. Enough to notice her hands have grown icy and numb. Faith slides them between her warm naked thighs and clenches them closed.
Keeping her eyes forward but remaining silent is not something Faith is used to doing.
In a shaky voice she calls out to the eerie elderly Nun behind the wheel.
“Excuse me?”
It is as if she spoke but her words found no one to hear them. The lingering silence is promptly answered with a soft gentle “SHH” from the seat behind her.
She dares not greet the warning, instead she heeds its notice.
Retreating back inside her head, her imagination begins to riot against her.
What if she had disappointed the Sisters. She was less than perfect. Letting her curiosity lead her a stray from God and into temptation. And this was nothing more than a punishment for her wicked ways.
Ripped apart from the only family she has known. Never to be seen again.
She knows the bible better than her own body. Faith knows what the word says about disobedient sheep. There was a list of reasons.
For starts, she had been tempted and failed before.
Her desires had worn Faith down many times. One compulsion she fed often was that of young Robert, a gardener for the home.
Lurking from her room, she watched intently as he trimmed the hedges outside her window. That hot summer day in July delivered a sin she could not resist. The sweltering sun beating down on his stout shoulders. The sweat had made his taut, white t-shirt almost transparent, offering a mouthwatering glimpse of his tanned, muscular chest and rock-hard abs. It was as if the devil himself came to tease her with Robert.
Her eyes traced his pulsing veins from his flexing forearms up to his bulging tattooed biceps. OH how, she had imagined them coiled tightly around her like a snake, squeezing the very breath from her chest. Just the thought tingles Faith between her trembling legs. He had been the reason she laid awake a many of nights. Exploring her naked flesh with her own two hands. Wishing it was Robert trespassing over every inch of her.
Attentively violating every detail of her needs carefully.
Imagining how good it would feel for Roberts coarse hands to be roaming over her untouched firm breast. Fondling her hard dime shaped nipples.
His palms gliding over her smooth tight stomach. Swaying his thumb freely across the edge of her panty line. Diving down between her thighs. She cannot help but bite her bottom lip until it bleeds. The thought of him putting his strong, long fingers inside of her makes her toes curl. Squeezing her knees together, she sucks in a deep breath.
She closes her eyes and asks for forgiveness for her wicked convictions. No wonder the Sisters have banished her to damnation. She was ruined. Unsavable. She could not blame them for ridding the home of her toxic presence.
She still couldn’t resist the urge to test God.
“Give me a sign. Give me something Lord that you haven’t forsaken me.”
Just as she is ready to give up, the light blue sky that daybreak often brings is swallowed whole. Slavishly watching from the vans window, she whispers to herself
“Show me.”
The den of clouds finish devouring the sunrise. A starving rumble of thunder jolts Faith within the restraints of her seat. It is as if God was scolding her for questioning his loyalty. Then the gentle chorus of rain sings over the metal roof.
A soothing symphony of a storm delivers Faith to the mouth of her destination. Her eyes join the other girls as they follow the winding road that strays from the interstate.
The long drive has brought them to the welcoming arms of a steel ten-foot-tall gate. Faith quickly finds herself torn between her lust for knowing what lies beyond lock and key and the maturing fear of what might await her on the other side. As they come to a stop, the sound of the seat belt buckle dings off the driver side door. This was her chance. Faith could escape as the Nun climbs out to open the passage. She could outrun the short grey-haired woman easily. She wouldn’t stop or look back until she was long gone. Where would she go? She didn’t even know where she was. It didn’t even matter. She had missed her opportunity. She must face whatever is at the end of the beaten road.
The well-traveled curves are almost invisible under the giant pines. The girls are desperately attracted to an approaching van. It’s identical to theirs.
Faith looks on eagerly until it is like looking into a mirror.
Four sets of eyes staring back from the passing vehicle before disappearing under the shadows of the trees. The silence couldn’t have been more deafening than it was right this second. You can almost hear the minds of the young girls entwining together with curiosity. It is short lived. A gasp spreads throughout the shuttles cabin as it rolls to a screeching stop. The sight of the mission is breath taking.
She sizes up the rocky tan walls and her eyes slither around every beautiful detail until reaching up to a window with a man standing inside its large pane glass.
His looks appear dark and mysterious from where she stands. As the girls are shuffled out single file, she can’t keep from staring at him. She can feel him looking over each one of them. Pulling her nightgown tightly, she is guided inside the wooden double doors. Faith’s about to meet what was at the end of the path.
Scrolling the tip of his tongue over his lips, he anxiously admires the four new young girls from his open window. Each one removed from the van is like watching candy slowly being unwrapped. Not able to taste them but teased by their delicious inexperienced flavors. He can almost smell their sugary aroma of innocence. Tickling his animal senses. So pure. So tempting. His mouth becomes greedy at the thought of tasting just one of them. A sample, just a nibble, would satisfy the Fathers sweet tooth. Unzipping his tight crotched slacks, he slides one hand inside, thumbing the head of his throbbing cock.
Until the familiar creak of his door rudely interrupts. His frustration is not easily hidden behind his hoarse voice.
“Yes Sister, what is it now?”
Slightly looking over his shoulder for a moment, he turns his attention back to the window.
“I see you’ve noticed our new sisters have arrived safely and all accounted for. Would you like me to gather them up for you to look over?”
The soft-spoken female asked.
Gingerly adjusting his now partially hard dick, he turns to Sister Hope.
“I do not wish for pleasantries. Show them to their cells and do clean them up this time. Let me know when you have them fed and ready for communion. Is that understood?”
“Yes of course. Will there be anything else?”
“Have someone shine up the confession box. I will be using its services tomorrow.”
“Right away. I’ll see to it myself sir.”
“Oh, there is just one other thing.”
Leaving the overlook, his eyes over travel her as he walks by, kindly closing the door behind.
Her eyes open wide and her bottom lip becomes trapped between her teeth.
“Did you forget something, Sister?”
Shamefully, her eyes drop to the Spanish ceramic tile. Indeed, she had. She secretly hoped he noticed that she had purposely forgotten to knock. Simply nodding, she knows what’s to follow.
Modestly inclining forward, she bunches up the hem of her habit to the small of her back. Putting on display her smooth bare buttocks for the Father to see.
She could hear his steps approaching before abruptly stopping.
Perching just behind her left ear, his warm breath finds her neck.
“Place your hands down flat on the desk.” He orders while rolling up his sleeve to the bend of his elbow.
Doi
ng as she is told, Hope braces herself.
“Eyes forward,” He commands.
A swift hard swat finds its intended thick curvy target. It is welcomed by a whimper that pleases the good Father. She briskly restrains the gratifying smirk before its presence is noticed. Without warning another smite forcibly lifts Hope up to the tips of her toes.
Pausing her punishment to admire his work, he firmly caresses her stinging cheek.
The third strike brings a thunderclap landing against her rear end, shaking Hope down to her very core. She struggles to capture the breath back into her lungs.
“Now fix yourself. And let’s not forget again. Let that serve as a reminder to never relax in your manners. God does not appreciate a rude servant.”
Hope can no longer postpone her breathless grin.
Carefully she pulls down her dress over the red rising welp that stains her backside before turning to look upon her chastiser. She promptly put her legs together. Cautious not to drip one drop from between her thighs onto the floor.
She begins to speak over the swelling lump in her throat.
“I’m sorry, my Father… Thank you for teaching me this lesson. I will not be so foolish next time.”
“Good. You are free to join our girls.”
††††
Stuck inside the faint lit corridor, Faith feels her knees tremble beneath her.
Her chattering teeth begin to come in sync with the other girls. She’s trying to stay strong. She feels the nagging responsibility for not just herself, but the others as well. Before she can speak, the set of large wooden double doors swing open, giving the blinding light permission to enter the room.
Hope appears from the almost blinding glow. With her hands placed behind her back, hugging a single piece of paper in her grip, she paces from one side to the other.
“Good morning Chosen. Welcome. I know you all must be tired and famished from the long ride here.
Evil Mister Good Page 1
