Chapter 6

The sky was like a vast blue canvass splattered with dollops of white billowy paint. A slight breeze tickled the back of Charlie's neck as he stood on his front porch looking skyward. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, but Charlie didn't think so. He looked back down, at his fingers squeezing the key in the lock, and he sighed -- a deep, soulful sigh. And then he turned the key and pushed the door open -- already feeling the loneliness. Stepping inside his house, Charlie's ears perked with fading hope. He waited -- nothing! The boy's broad shoulders slumped as he made his way to the kitchen. On the table, several cookies were neatly stacked on a lone plate. Knowing what he would find, he opened the refrigerator and took out the pre-poured glass of milk. It was the same every day. Instead of being warmly greeted by a mother that offered him an after school snack, lately he entered an empty house with the waiting snack being his only company.

Gulping down the last of the milk and wiping the wetness off his upper lip, Charlie went upstairs. His parents' bedroom door was closed, something also common lately. Leaning with a hand on his bedroom's door jam, Charlie rested his face against his upper arm. Then he looked to the side. Making up his mind, the boy pushed off and walked slowly towards the other bedroom. He knocked softly on the door three times and waited.

Silence.

"Mom, you in there?" he said through the barrier.

Silence.

About to retreat to his room, Charlie took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, pushing the door open. Charlie's mother sat on the side of the bed with her face in her hands. Her head rose and turned towards him, but she remained mute.

"Mom, you okay?"

"Charlie, I'm fine. Please leave me alone."

Charlie entered the master bedroom, walking directly to his mother. Standing in front of her, he said, "Mom, are you mad at me?"

Mary Mangolin looked up at her only child, her eyes red and puffy. "No, of course not," she said softly.

Wrapping her arms around Charlie's body, she pressed her face to his abdomen. Her shoulders moved up and down with her sobs.

"Mom, something's wrong. What is it? What did I do?"

Tilting her head back, Mary stared into his face. Charlie looked like he was about to cry. She loved him so much and it broke her heart to see him sad.

"Charlie, it's just that I'm so embarrassed."

"Why, because Dad isn't my real father?"

"No! Dad is your real father! That other man is..." She burst into tears again.

"Mom, I don't understand it, but I love you. Whatever happened many years ago is over with."

Mary stopped bawling and looked up, tears streaking her cheeks. "But you saw us! The other day, you saw me acting like a slut! I can't live with that. I'm so ashamed." Again her hands covered her face as she cried.

Charlie sat next to his mother and cradled her in his arms. The front of his shirt quickly became wet. He rocked her back and forth until her sobbing subsided.

"Mom, that man is very powerful. He can make people do things."

"He's ... kchaww, kchaww ... he's ... kchaww..."

Charlie leaned back a little, staring dumfounded at his mother. She sounded like she was gagging or trying to clear her throat of phlegm or something. Mary's face turned red from effort. She tried her best to tell Charlie the man was Satan, but she couldn't say it. No matter how hard she tried, it felt like the back of her tongue swelled up, choking her.

Relenting, Mary said, "But you saw me naked. You saw me do disgusting things."

"Mom, when I look at you, all I see is the mother I love. You love Dad. You love me. And we love you. That's all that matters. Let's forget the other thing ... make believe it never happened. I just want you the way you were. I miss you."

Mary stopped crying and looked into her son's face. A half smile appeared, and then she clasped his head between her hands and planted many kisses all over his face. When she stopped and saw the embarrassment on her son's face, her smile broadened.

"Thank you so much. Do you want a snack?"

"I already had it."

"Oh. Good. Now go to your room and leave me alone for a while. I have a lot of thinking to do. Charlie, I love you so much. Sometimes I forget that you aren't a kid anymore, but a man. Thank you."

Charlie returned to his bedroom to do his homework, but he sat at his desk fuming. What the man did to my mother was wrong. If I ever see him again I'm going to have it out with him.

Satan sat in his office monitoring Charlie's progress. He enjoyed what Charlie had done to Cathy and Mr. Pruss. Forcing the little cheerleader to blow him was a bonus, but having Cathy's virginity raped from her in front of her classmates and ruining the teacher's career and life was special. Something he himself would have done. However, Charlie disliked the two and wanted to get even. It wasn't done out of pure evil. And he felt guilty about it and worried about his victims. There was too much goodness in him. But what happened in the teacher's lounge was precious to the devil. There was no animosity between Charlie and the teachers. He did it simply for enjoyment. He knew he could, so he did. Satan was well aware that power corrupts. In fact, he was counting on it.

But the sentimental scene with his mother revolted Satan. "How can a son of mine feel compassion?" he muttered. The face in his lap looked up, his cock still in her mouth. "I wasn't talking to you, slut. Keep sucking!"

Lowering her head, Satan once again saw the top of the nun's habit bobbing up and down. She had just arrived, her slit wrists gaping and her habit stained red. He was initiating her to hell in his own diabolical way. Although quite a few priests had recently been sent to him -- sexually abusing young boys was a sure ticket to hell -- having a nun brought before him was a rare occurrence, a special treat. Since the nun was married to God, Satan felt like he was cuckolding his adversary.

Satan thought back to the young woman's shaking figure as she stood before him in her long black and white habit. She had been placed into a convent by her parents and was told in no uncertain terms that she would become a nun. She tried to live up to everyone's expectations, but when she saw the maintenance man working without his shirt, and his muscular body glistening in sweat, it caused a warmth within the 22 year old nun that she had never felt before. She tried to fight it, but the man seemed to know how she felt and kept after her -- showing more of his body, touching her, telling her how beautiful she was. But when she allowed his hand up her clothes and then spread her legs when he rubbing her pussy, the petrified girl bolted from the room. She knew she wasn't strong enough to resist the man and couldn't allow her body to be violated. So she did the only thing she could think of -- she retrieved a razorblade and, sitting on the side of her small bed, cut her wrists.

She looked so young and terrified standing before Satan. Each time their eyes met she would quickly lower hers, but soon would raise her head again.

"Do you know where you are?" Satan had asked.

"No, sir." Her voice was soft and innocent.

"Come here. Come stand next to me."

On rubbery legs, the nun walked slowly trying not to faint. She was disoriented and confused. It was as if she had awoken from a coma, and the large room didn't look like it belonged in the convent. The man sitting in the oversized chair seemed so confident and powerful that the timid nun obeyed.

"Tell me, child, do you believe in heaven and hell?"

"Of course."

"Good, then things will go easier."

Satan clapped his hands and a side door swung open. A man in his early 40s entered, and then there was some scuffling as two others were forcefully pushed into the room. One was a woman around 20 years old and the other an older man, nearing 50. Both were completely naked so the nun covered her eyes.

"You must look," Satan said in a fatherly tone.

"I can't. It's a sin."

"It's part of your orientation."

The nun's fingers separated as she peeked at Satan. "My orientation?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"Somewhere in the convent."

"That's not correct. Your convent is far from here."

Dropping her hand to her side, the surprised nun asked, "Then where am I? How did I get here? What am I doing here? Who are you?"

"You will learn everything in time. But for now, please look at the people who just entered the room."

The nun heard scuffling and turned towards the struggling pair, but her head quickly spun around, her eyes closed. "I can't. They're naked."

"You must. This demonstration if for your benefit."

The nun's eyes popped open. "Demonstration? I don't understand."

Satan grabbed the nun's arm and gently pulled it to her side. She made sure her eyes were locked on him so that she wouldn't inadvertently see the naked people. He held her arm, gently but firmly.

"The older man and woman over there schemed to murder her husband, the other man. The coquette used her beauty to trap the man into marrying her. It's not that he was pure and innocent, heh heh, he wouldn't be here if he was, but that's another story. Anyway, the woman used her charm to get him to marry her even though she didn't love him."

The nun spun around to glare at the woman, but she quickly turned back after seeing their nudity. During the brief glance, she noticed both naked people were being restrained by two large men.

"It was all a plan," Satan continued. "One I rather appreciate, if I may say, but that's not important either. The two planned the whole thing ... to get him to marry her and then murder him. You see, he was very wealthy. I did say he was unscrupulous, didn't I?"

"But why are they here?" the nun asked softly so the others wouldn't hear.

"Penance, my child, penance."

"A priest will be hearing their confession?"

"I guess I can call upon one of the priests here to do that. Ha ha ha. Sorry, but I find that amusing. But no, the origin of the word 'penance' is from the Latin 'poena.' Do you know your Latin?"

"Um, I'm sorry, sir, but I wasn't very good in Latin."

"It means 'punishment.' Think back to the feudal times, one of my favorite periods. Doing penance involved severe and/or public discipline, which could be both harsh and humiliating but was considered edifying. That's the penance I'm speaking of."

"But that practice has been abolished!" the young nun exclaimed.

"Not here, as you will soon learn. Now turn around and watch."

"I can't. They're naked." Satan gripped her forearm. "OW! You're hurting me!"

"Look at them and the pain will go away."

The nun tried to resist, but she had always been a timid, frail girl. A fiery stinging shot through her arm, increasing in intensity every second that passed. She couldn't stand it and quickly faced the others. Immediately, the burning desisted. Closing her eyes, the pain returned so she quickly opened them.

The nun gasped. The woman was on her knees, confined in an atrocious contraption that the nun didn't remember seeing in the room just a moment before. Made of metal, it had a curved back that the woman's torso fit perfectly within. Other than two sturdy legs that spread out at forty-five degree angles and were bolted to the floor, the apparatus ended at her waist with a strap securing her. Both wrists were fastened to the strap at her belly. The top of the device was hollowed out and just a little bit bigger than her head. The woman's face was red from struggling to break free.