Subj: Taken to Task, Part 5
Date: 7/9/00 3:32:22 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Carol H. Monterosso
Trask returned to the prayer closet three hours later. When he opened the door, a whoosh of hot air escaped the room; hissing as it flew out. He sat down on the chair and proceeded to thumb through his bible, trying to find the exact passage he intended to read to Willie. He didn't seem to be aware of Willie's present condition.
Willie saw this through heavy lidded eyes; his eyelashes making Trask appear to sit behind a black lace veil.
"I will read to you now so you will know the wrath of God on his most wicked servants." He closed his eyes enthralled by what he had just said. It was important to him that all know of his involvement with the Lord.
"Fuck you, Trask! I'd rather die than listen to your hypocritical crap or be anyone's bitch!" Willie's chest heaved. His spiel left him breathless as his lungs hungered for more air. He was barely conscious. The heat of the small room had sapped his remaining strength; he was drenched in sweat. His body was now numb from the prolonged, restrained position but he knew he had to stay alert. Otherwise, if he allowed himself one second...just one second of sleep ...he'd be eternally at rest.
"Would you, Willie? Would you rather die than never to feel this again?" Trask asked, nonplussed by Willie's profanity.
He rose from his chair, putting the bible down on the seat and walked over to Willie. He knelt down again in front of him and looked directly into his pupils. This time, he not only unzipped Willie's pants but let them fall down to his knees, exposing his sweaty, white skin to Trask's cool hands. They felt the downy softness of Willie's round, firm butt before they came forward and his fingertips delicately massaged the tip of his penis.
"This does feel good, doesn't it, Willie?" Willie could only moan. Trasks hands continued to teasingly electrify his turgid spout. Willie moaned again.
"Oh, God! Trask! Stop! Don't...please don't make me come," he half-heartedly said. It had been a long time since he had been pleasured so artfully...so slowly...so lovingly that it felt damn good! In Willie's overwhelmed brain, Trask now knew it was time to torment him into submission.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" Trask asked and Willie nodded slowly as if in a trance. His weakened body tried to maintain his kneeling stance as well as letting his groin enjoy hand held pleasures.
"This is how you'll please Barnabas, Willie. You want to please him, don't you? You've always wanted to please him and now you can." Willie nodded that HE wanted to be pleased, not Barnabas.
"He owns you, Willie. Always has owned you. You will be his until the day you die." Willie was deep in the trance; listening to vague words and feeling deep pleasure pulsating inside him. Oh, it felt good...so good to be pleased.
"You will please him with your body. He owns your body, Willie. You will want him to use you. You will let him use you. You will let him use your mouth...and you will let him penetrate deep inside you so that you will belong to him forever. You will only want to please him. Your needs are NOT to be met--only his needs are important. Do you understand?"
Mesmerized by Trask's touch, Willie knew he wanted to please Barnabas. He always had tried his best. Now,he could do more to make Barnabas like him. Maybe even love him.
Trask continued his stroking until he knew Willie was ready to explode.
"This is how you will make him feel, Willie. You want him to come. You want him to be happy. Now you can finally please him. Let him come inside you, Willie. Let him know that you are his slave."
He felt the urgency flow out of him.
"Very good, Willie. You are a good boy. I knew you would please me and you will please Barnabas very soon." Willie didn't hear Trask's condescending tone. He was still relishing the ecstasy throbbing in his groin.
"I didn't come, did I ?" Willie abruptly asked, shaking his head and destroying the trance.
"Oh yes, you did!" Trask triumphantly said, drying his hands in a towel.
"Omigod! No! How could I? You made me, Trask! You goddamn bastard!" Willie was mortified that he had let a man pleasure him. It was something he had never allowed to happen. Not in jail. Not on board ship. Not with Jason. NEVER! Not until now.
But how did Trask make him do it? He didn't remember anything after Trask sat down on the chair. And, that's where he sat now, mumbling words from the bible that Willie was having trouble hearing. He had resisted his need for sleep as long as he could. His blood sugar level had plummeted; his heart raced; his stomach hungered for food and his throat was parched. His head was splitting in two; his chest burned for more oxygen. What more could he endure? And what for?
Willie knew he had lost. He'd never have the one person that offered him a new life. He had even allowed himself to dream of their marriage. To live in a house similiar to her parents...on a quiet street...with dogs and kids running through the backyards. Dianna would be sitting in a rocking chair on their front porch, nursing their first born. It was all too wonderful! And all too unbelievable. For it would never happen now. He let out a cry of woe that startled Trask. He had never heard a man wail with such despair as he did now. Trask knew of only one instance...and that was at Christ's death.
"I love you, Dianna," he whispered inside his head, finally letting himself succumb to the swirling blackness.
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"Why hast thou forsaken me?" He heard his mind say. Why would he think of that bible phrase? It was the only thing he remembered from Palm Sunday services. The priest would bellow and the parishioners would jump. Willie thought the priest did this on purpose so he could see who were awake and who weren't.
His mother dragged him every Sunday to the first mass
of the day- -7 AM--before his father would wake up. His father didn't believe
in any religion being able to save mankind. It had never helped him and it wasn't
going to help his family by listening to sermons and praying to an unseen god
or his saints. Willie felt his mom went to
repent for the previous nights adulterous fling with "Uncle" Joe or whatever
name the man used. After awhile, he didn't care what their names were. As long
as they paid him to keep quiet and leave the scene, he accepted their cash.
After church, he and his mom would run home so that his dad would never know they had left the apartment. He looked forward to the breakfast she would cook--French toast, pancakes, or scrambled eggs. Most of the time it would be his only meal of the day.
Once his father awoke, Willie would flee. His father would always demand a beer to ease his hangover and pick at the prepared food. If he didn't leave in time, he'd catch hell from his father. The ranting and raving always escalated into a fight. He'd attack Willie first with his belt while his mom would try to save him. Then, his father would turn from Willie and start to attack his wife. If Willie wasn't too badly hurt, he'd try to defend her. But his father was powerful in drunken rages. One swat of his arm would send Willie reeling across the room.
"Why hast thou forsaken me?" His mind echoed the phrase.
"I haven't forgotten you, Willie. Will you play with me?" The angelic voice was lilting in its gaiety. He remembered the voice and called to it.
"Sarah? Is that you?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes, Willie, it's me. You need my help, don't you?" she asked, bouncing a ball in her hand. She was dressed as Willie had remembered her: long, yellow cotton dress with cap; her long blond curls cascading to her shoulders.
"Yes, I do. Can you help me out of this mess?"
"I can try. I know who can help you. She's the one who made this happen."
"Who made this happen?" Willie desperately wanted to know who had altered his future.
"It is she. And she is bad." Sarah still spoke in riddles.
"Tell me, Sarah, who is it so I can fight her."
"You cannot fight her. She is too powerful."
"But how can I be saved, Sarah? I need to be with Dianna."
"You will be with her but first you must convince the powerful one of her error. It is she that did this to you."
"How can I get to her when I don't know who she is?"
"I will send her to you. She will not believe you but you must convince her that her spell has not helped her but hurt you."
Always the pessimist, Willie said, "What if I fail, Sarah?"
"You will not fail, Willie, if you believe in yourself and your future with Dianna." She continued to bounce the ball...bounce the ball...bounce the ball until her spirit faded.
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Trask jumped from the chair when he saw Willie lose consciousness and start to fall over. He grabbed his arms and held him up while he took the noose from around his neck and laid him on the floor. He untied his hands and legs and started to rub them, hoping that circulation would soon return. Willie groggily acknowledged his savior.
"Sarah?" he moaned in a whisper.
"It is Trask, Willie. You have suffered enough for today. I will bring you to your room when you are able." Trask continued to stimulate his arms and legs.
"I'm so tired," Willie responded.
"Yes, I'm sure you are. But suffering is your fate." Trask couldn't help but prolong Willie's mental suffering.
Once Willie became more aware of his surroundings, Trask helped him up off the floor. With his arm wrapped around Willie's waist, he helped him out of the closet. Just as the door opened and they started to walk out, Rachel Drummond walked into Trask's office. Willie immediately recognized her.
"Maggie...Oh, Maggie. Please help me!" he gasped and tried to leave Trask's grasp.
Rachel wandered to the bookshelf to retrieve a book. She was startled to see Trask standing by the prayer closet.
"Oh, Reverend Trask, I didn't see you there!" She nervously took the book and stood waiting for him to respond.
Trask took his arm away from Willie and approached Rachel. Willie fell to the floor in a heap.
"I was just taking some rubbish out of the prayer closet." Rachel looked beyond Trask to see if he had a wastebasket. He didn't. She didn't see anything in the prayer closet or set outside. "Did you find what your were looking for?"
"Oh,yes. I needed it for tomorrow's class. I wanted to make some notes." She was breathtakingly pretty, he thought. Her auburn hair was pulled off her face and held high on the crown with huge curls falling down her neck.
"Please do not work late. I want you to be available later this evening." Rachel frowned at his intent and felt awkward being alone with him.
"You will receive me, won't you?" Rachel heaved at the thought of his presence in her room making her do things a proper woman saved for her husband.
"If I must," she conceeded. She started to leave without waiting for him to reply.
"Yes, you must! If you want to stay out of prison, you must! One word to the authorities...just one word...and you will be locked away for months...maybe years. Do you know what happens to women in prison?" he asked, his hands gripping her shoulders. Rachel started to cry.
"Please, I don't want to go to prison. I didn't do anything!" she sobbed.
"Stealing? You call that nothing?!" he spat. "It is against the laws of God."
"It was money that was owed to me. I took what was mine!"
"So you say. But it is my word the authorities will believe, not you. You have no one to defend your character. YOU ARE NO ONE!"
He put his arms around her shoulders. She flinched at his touch.
"You will NOT do this tonight! You will open your legs and let me partake of you. Because of your tone of voice, I will not be gentle. You will suffer greatly tonight! Now leave! And prepare yourself for my entry."
Sobbing greatly, she gathered her brown skirt and left the room. Trask was pleased that he had made her weep. She would be docile tonight as he forced himself in her. She would scream and plead for mercy at each thrust but he would be deaf to her cries. Willie took notice of the scene.
"You bastard! How can you rape Maggie?" he asked, barely able to lift his head off the floor.
"Maggie? Who is this woman that you speak of?" Trask asked.
"The one that was just in this room, you jerk! That was Maggie!" he explained.
"That was a teacher here in this school. Her name is Rachel Drummond." Willie was more confused than ever.
"Why is she dressed so funny? It can't be Halloween yet?"
"Her dress is appropriate for the year." Trask answered, helping Willie off the floor.
"What year?" Willie curiously asked.
"1897." Trask spoke with authority.
"1897?" Willie looked skeptically at Trask.
"Yes! When you entered this building, you entered 1897. Miss Drummond didn't see you because you don't exist!"
"Oh, God, help me!" Willie uttered, rubbing his forehead with his hand. He thought he had spoken with Sarah; now he thought he had seen Maggie. Was he losing his mind?
to be contiued........