“Yes. It’s nice to see you again, Mary. Please have a seat. Catherine has just finished up with another — visitor. Why don’t we take care of business now. She’ll be with you in a moment.”
Mary Elizabeth nods. She hands the woman behind the desk four hundred dollars in cash, and sits, keeping her coat on and her purse clutched in her lap. She tries not to look at the lobby: the garish red and black decor, the velveteen curtains tied back with steel chains, the worn spot on the black leather sofa. It makes it harder for her to think of this the way she needs to think of it. She sits, and stares at her knuckles gripping the handle of her purse, and waits.
“Mary Elizabeth. Please come in.”
Catherine has stepped into the lobby. She is dressed, as always for their meetings, in a modified modern habit: the knee-length gray dress, the heavy hose and sensible shoes, the small, unimposing wimple. She has carefully wiped all traces of makeup from her face.
She takes Mary Elizabeth by the hand, and leads her to the now-familiar room, the one fitted up like a schoolroom. An office or rectory would have been better, but this was the closest they had.
“Sit down, Mary. We have to have a difficult conversation.”
*
Thus begins the latest story on Fishnet, the erotic fiction magazine I edit. And this one is written by me: Penitence as a Perpetual Motion Machine, by yours truly, Greta Christina. To read more, read the rest of the story. (Not for anyone under 18.)
Please note: This is not a nice story. This story contains content that some people may find disturbing, including references to non-consensual sex. If you don’t like that sort of thing, please don’t read this story. But if you’re a sick fuck like me — enjoy!
HOT! (so I guess I’m a sick fuck…)
Someday I want to write an erotic story from the point of view of god- an omniscient view that tires of incorporeal existence and therefore attempts to experience feelings of locality and mortality by interposing himself into torture and snuff scenarios– but everytime after the physical being being possessed is snuffed out the lack of consciousness achieved by the infinite being is only temporary, fleeting, and addictive. The frustration and desire is fueled by infinite impossibility of lasting fulfillment due to the very natures of the beings involved and the next target is chosen…
hmmm, yes, I am definitely a sick fuck.
Yes, I am, and have always been, a devoted member of the sick fuck club.
Excellent……hot…erotic story. Went straight to my pussy.
n and Nanccy: Oh, thank God. I hadn’t read that story since I finished writing it (a few weeks/ couple months ago), and when I re-read it on Fishnet I was like, “What the fuck was I thinking? This is waaay too much.” So glad other people are getting into it.
This story made me feel feelings in all of my special places. I have a strong appreciation for stories with that extra layer of religious guilt. It must be my Christian background. Thank you for not holding back.
I think the layer of religious guilt did it for me, too. I wanted the story to be longer, and was disappointed that we didn’t get to read the rest of what should have happened to Mary.
Hot stuff!
I came back to re-read this a while ago (and again now) only to find that I can no longer access fishnet. Is there a chance of reposting the story on your site? I loved it!