A Salvation Army member is in need of salvation find out how she receives it.
By Stephen A Abell
Number of Words: 3498
It had been a hard day in the office. Rosemarie hated temping and worst still hated first days. She was ecstatic to get home to her nice warm flat and the loving welcome of her pet tabby Jacob.
Rosemarie gaily teased him with the one word, which always moved him to action. “FOODIES.” Instantly he was frantically pacing the floor around her feet, the purring replaced with urgent meows to hurry. Carefully she strode into the kitchen, and grabbed the food-dish from the drainer and the food from under the sink. No sooner was the filled dish on Jacob’s mat then a sudden silence dropped over the flat and she smiled.
“Right then, little one, it’s time for me to go and get changed for my nights work.” She leant down and ruffled his fur. “Mommy has to go help the less fortunate.”
In the bedroom, she removed the charcoal grey suit jacket and skirt. The white blouse came off next, leaving the lingerie covering her female form. As she did every night, she stood before the wall mirror and checked her image. The thoughts or the speech was slightly different but the ideal was the same. She was lucky to have such a beautiful body and pretty face. She was an orphan with no idea of whom her parents were or of how they looked. To be honest she did not care if she had her father’s nose, her mother’s eyes, or great-great-great-grandmother Mildred’s mouth. The fact was she was beautiful. She looked like a 1940’s movie star.
Reaching around the back, she unfastened the cream lace bra, slowly let it fall free from her shoulders, down her arms and finally brush past her nipples - the sensation caught her breath - on its way to the floor. Her eyes never left the mirror. She raised her hands to her breasts, crossing them in mid-air and took each nipple between thumb and forefinger. Her breathing became laboured, as she slowly rolled her nipples, pinching softly, pulling gently with her fingers. Her legs began to shake, as the orgasm, building within her, demanded her strength. She felt the mass release of juices and breathed deep of the musky scent invading the air, as she raked her fingernails over the erect nipples. Smiling, she let out a small moan as a damp patch grew from the crotch of her lace cream knickers. She stared for a few seconds then hooked her thumbs over the sides of the underwear, bent forward and lowered them down over her stocking clad legs. She stood upright and kicked them off. Sitting on the bed, she unclipped the suspender belt from the stockings and delicately rolled them down her smooth legs, throwing them into the clothes hamper. She retrieved her panties and bra from the floor, gently wiped the dampness from her vagina, and cast them in with the stockings. The suspender belt she laid on the bed then went for a quick shower.
After towelling dry, she retrieved the uniform from the wardrobe. It was time for her “Foodies.”
“Hey, Rosie.” The man standing in the middle of the group shouted as she entered the hall. “Glad you could make it.”
“Well you know me Merv, too much spare time on my hands.”
Mervyn Blake strode free of the group and placed a hand on Rosemarie’s shoulder. “Do you never take a break? This is my second year here and you’ve never missed a single meeting. The others and myself take holidays and get sick, but not you.” His eyes held the question that hung in the air between them.
“Well it’s nothing out of the ordinary, Merv. No conspiracy theory. You know I temp. The moneys okay, but it gets eaten by the bills. Sometimes there isn’t enough work for me, so I have to I live on savings and government handouts. Besides who’d look after Jacob, I’d miss him terribly. As for being sick, well I thank the Lord and my diet.”
“And, what about relationships? Boyfriends?” Mervyn could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and judging by the smile on Rosie’s face it was evident too. “I mean, you’re a very beautiful woman.”
“Now hush up, you’ll make me blush too. There’ve been a couple but both wanted the same thing.”
“You know it. These days you tell a bloke you’re waiting until you’re married and they’re on the mobiles calling out the guys with the straight jackets. You could tell him you got aids and he’d still risk it..” She let a sad smile play upon her lips and was glad to see a look of shame in Mervyn’s eyes. “Mention being part of the Salvation Army and they’ll just bust right through the door to get away, like a cartoon character.”
“Well Rosie, I’m sure there’s a man out there for you, somewhere.”
“I know. It’s just a matter of time.” She reached over and softly stroked his chin, letting the slight stubble prickle her skin. The sensation triggered nerve endings and she felt herself sexually awakening. Leaning in close, she spoke in a hushed tone. “And if you weren’t married …”
She turned and walked away leaving the innuendo swirling in the heavy air. She could almost feel the fire radiating from his burning face.
“So where are we tonight, Sir?” She addressed the man standing at the front of the meeting hall.
“Tonight, my dear we’re over at St. Mary’s giving out the coffee, tea, soup and sandwiches. I’ve been informed, by the priest, the homeless numbers have increased. The van has already left so if you’d kindly and quickly board the minibus we can start Gods work for this evening.”
At St. Mary’s there were already a handful of homeless people awaiting sustenance; they loosely gathered around the food van
“Right then, you four stay here and look after these good people while the others break into pairs and take to the streets. Any homeless or needy, send them back here, we’ll be ready for them.”
Merv walked over to Rosemarie and offered his arm. “Come on then, let’s do some good.”
It was Tuesday and, being so, relatively quiet. There were the usual people on the street. Regulars to local pubs, teenagers hanging about or moving between fast food outlets, couples heading to restaurants and cinemas, and in the subways and shop doorways were the unfortunates she was hunting for.
Seven of the eleven people took them up on their offer and shambled off towards St. Mary’s and they were about to follow them when the smell assailed her nose. She stopped walking and scented the air.
“Come on Rosie, it’s time we were gettin’ back. It’s cold and these old bones could do with a nice hot cuppa.”
“One second Merv, there’s someone behind this wall. He needs our help.”
“Woman’s intuition?” He tried to lift one eyebrow in a quizzical motion but Rosemarie’s laugh told him he failed, miserably.
“Call it that if you want, but let’s just go and check. Okay? It’s on the way back, look the entrance to this car park is up ahead.”
“Come on then.” They strode with new purpose towards the gate.
“Bloody hell, that is foul. It smells like a bloody toilet.” Mervyn could feel the bile rising from his stomach. “Damn, I don’t want’a throw-up; Alice made a great meal tonight. Steak and kidney pie, from scratch, bless her. My favourite.”
“Well look there Merv.” Rosie pointed towards a cardboard box propped against the wall, approximately six feet from the entrance. “You stay here; I’ll go and have a chat.”
She could smell the cheap whisky on the air and the old dried urine and faeces on the clothes. Before the figure even moved, Rosemarie knew it was an old man. He looked to be in his early seventies, but the streets were cruel he could have been fifteen years younger. Still, she was surprised at how this man had survived on these streets. He laid inside the long box, on what looked to be a ripped sleeping bag. She spoke to him but he just stared back wonderingly. After a few seconds of silence the old man raised a cupped hand to his mouth and shouted, “What?”
She squatted down beside him so he would hear better and raised her voice, “Me and my friend, over there,” she pointed to the entrance but his eyes remained on her, they panned over her body and she smiled with the realisation that he was undressing her in his mind, “are from the Salvation Army. We were just wondering if you’re alright and if you’d like some food and drink?”
“Thank you Miss but I got what I needs right ‘ere,” and a gloved hand pulled a half bottle of whisky from inside his long coat. “I don’t need nothin’ else Miss.”
“Are you sure we can’t help in some other way?” She asked as she opened her legs slightly and laughed when his eyes shot down from her face to look.
“Get away ya’ bitch.” He hissed, “ya' just teasin’ me.”
“That I am Sir. I thought you’d like a little look since you’ve stared through my uniform already.” She knew, as she parted her legs a little more, he would be able to see the tops of her stockings and the opening to her crotch-less panties by the streetlight.
“Fuck off ya’ harlot.” He screamed and she could hear Mervyn’s feet pounding down the pavement as he ran to her side. Two large hands scooped her from the squat position.
.”Now you old codger, that ain’t no way to speak to a lady.”
“Well, she ain’t no lady.”
“Come on Merv, lets head back, I’ve told him about the food, it’s up to him now.” She put her arm through Mervyn’s and started back towards the entrance and St. Mary’s. “I think he’s been living on the streets too long. It’s affected his mind.”
“Yeah, paranoia and schizophrenia hits a lot of them.”
“I don’t need no help from the likes of you and your whore.” Was the bum’s final call.
Back outside the meeting hall people broke off with “goodbye”’s and “see you later”’s as they set off on foot or by car for their homes and families.
“Come on then, I’ll drive you back.” Merv called to Rosemarie as he headed to the side car park and a battered old Cortina that waited for him.
“That’s kind of you, Merv. But, it’s a nice night I think I’ll stroll home it’s only ten minutes walk.”
“Nice night!” She could here the exasperation in his voice. “It’s bloody freezing. Come on, it’s no problem, really.”
“Listen, by the time you get that bucket of bolts started I’ll be home with nice warm cuppa and an over affectionate pussy on my lap.”
She smiled when she heard his voice tremble “Well ok, if you’re sure, that is?”
“I am. But, thank you for offering.” She turned and marched down the street.
Two hours later, she stood by the entrance to the car park housing the offensive drunk. A smile played on her lips as she quietly walked to the cardboard abode.
The smell was ranker than she remembered. A whisky bottle lay discarded on the pavement next to, a two-litre “White Lightening” cider bottle. She could see the old man’s head lying on top of a plastic bag filled with dirty clothes.
“Hello my dirty, nasty, old man. Are you awake?” Her voice dripped like honey, full of sexual emotion. “Come now, your little whore is here and she’s ready to do her whoring.”
“Fuck off an’ leave me alone.” The gruff voice shouted from its shelter.
“So you are awake. Well turn around old man, I offer you salvation will you take it?”
The body moved to vocal disagreement. “Ya’ can’t offer me nothin’,” he grumbled as he twisted around to look at the annoyance. His eyes blazed with recognition, “like I told ya’ afore, I don’t need nowt from no whore, so fuck off.
“You’re dying you old fuck.” The words hit like a sledgehammer to the testicles, the anger in his eyes burned into hers. “I can smell it on you. The cancer is wide spread and your liver is failing, as are your lungs. Your body’s giving up. I can give you salvation.”
“Fuck off bitch. Let me die in peace.” He started to roll back into the shadows but she struck with lightening speed. She bent over, grabbed his neck, tightened her grip and with one fluid movement pulled him out of his box and sleeping bag. Fear ran into his eyes and the anger retreated, as the both stood upright.
“I can’t do that.” He noticed something was different with her eyes. “I offer you salvation. Is that not the best deal of your miserable life?” Her pupils ate her corona and were now devouring the whites. “In return I receive salvation too. But, mine is only fleeting. Yours will be eternal.” Her eyes were now obsidian. “I cannot let you decline.” Flames flickered softly in the centres, growing stronger with the steady beat of his heart. “Your salvation is death, while mine is life.” He was falling into the fires. “You have neglected your time here. Yet I still have so much to offer people.” He was held in the comforting arms of the all-consuming fire. “You helped no-one not even yourself. I help everyone, as best as I can.” He was lost in the blaze.
The pain in his throat brought him a little way out of the trance. Enough to see, blood dripping from an elongated fingernail. Enough to see, the strange lady lick the dripping redness into her mouth. Enough to see, her savour the taste. “You are not a bad man, John. Just a lazy and unlucky one. You should’ve fought for what you lost. You shouldn’t have given’ up so easily.”
The fires reignited in his mind. “You sit here while I prepare. I won’t take a minute and I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”
John sat peacefully on the curb as she removed her long coat with the silver “S”’s on the lapels. Next, she unbuttoned her white blouse to reveal her full breasts clothed in a black leather bra. John noticed her nipples were proud and erect, poking through fabricated holes. He began to feel the stirring’s of arousal and tried to look away. The fires burned bright, and he could not. She raised the black skirt, slowly. His eyes took in every inch of nylon-encased leg. As his eyes wandered up the beauteous sight, his penis began its own steady climb. He thought his heart and his load would burst when he saw she was wearing stockings. He thanked a God he did not believe in. As the skirt rose to the waist, he saw the leather crotch-less knickers and knew he had not been dreaming before. She sauntered over to him and smiled as she looked at the tented crotch of his soiled trousers. “That is a good boy.” She whispered in a husky voice as her fingers played with the zip. Suddenly cold air hit his manhood, the fires kept him warm, and he was happier than he could remember.
Rosemarie lowered herself gently onto John’s proud erection. It had been long time since he truly knew the pleasures of a woman and he was enjoying every second of it. This woman, sliding easily onto his cock, was truly beautiful, who cared if she was a little insane, and boy was she wet. He could feel the juices flowing out of her and down his shaft to tickle his balls with their stickiness. Her legs were trembling and she was holding on hard to his shoulders to keep her balance. Was she cumming, he mused and felt the true smile on his face. He snaked his arms around her back and pulled her close. He felt her mouth sucking at his throat. What’s she doin’ down there that feels so good, his mind wondered.
There was a strange feeling around his cock. Something was tickling the end of his penis driving him insane with anticipation and arousal. He wanted to throw this fucking bitch on the ground and take control of the situation. He wanted to pound the fuck right out of this whore.
“Oh, John. That ain’t ever gonna happen; I’m the one ridin’ the horse.” She pushed back and John was surprised at the force. Her hands let go of his shoulders and opened her blouse further, a couple of buttons flew free. His eyes watched in amazement as her nipples began to move.
“What the fuck.” He muttered between breaths. Mesmerised, he watched as the buds of her nipples grew, blossomed, and then opened like a strange flower. The tickling sensation on his penis heightened then suddenly stopped. Everything happened at once. The pain was searing as something slammed into the urethra through the eye of his penis. For an instant, he thought he could feel his cock being peeled like a banana. The thought was beaten into submission by amazement as the flower nipples exploded free from the woman’s breasts and flew into his nostrils. As his mouth opened to scream he saw her eyes were aflame then her fingernails severed his vocal chords, silencing him forever. His body was alive with pain but he could not pull his attention for the woman who was still bouncing up and down on his devastated manhood. The nipples, he noticed were still attached to her breasts, they were connected to some kind of dripping fleshy tentacle that was extending from somewhere inside her body. They were now plummeting down his throat, making it hard to breath, shredding the trachea as they went.
Something strange was happening down below. It felt like he was being drained. Were more tentacles attacking him? The fleshy creepers moved speedily up the urethra and split off into his bladder and genitals, where they began to feast on the liquids there. “Ah,” Rosemarie sighed in a rich silky satisfied voice, “you taste so good.” The other tentacles continued up the ureter towards the kidneys.
“I can see you’re in pain John so I’ll end this now.” She lifted both hands up to his face and his eyes stared on blankly as her fingernails extended. “Just a few more seconds and your salvation will be at hand.” She spread her arms wide, then swiftly brought them together, her nails sliced easily through the skull and dug deep into the pulsing brain, drinking deep of the fear and amazement that were no longer evident on John’s dead face.
The creepers in the trachea split and pushed their way down the bronchus passages and into the lungs where they started to suck the nonessential breath out of them. The lungs too were being harvested for their goodness. Inside the skull, the brain was ripped apart by scraping nails, under each nail was a small hollow fleshy tube, which sucked the decimated tissue into Rosemarie’s body.
She was alive. The orgasms were rushing through her and out onto the dead man beneath her and puddleing below them on the pavement.
Ten minutes of shear ecstasy left her both drained and satiated. She recalled the tendrils and fingernails back into her body as she climbed off the emaciated corpse. From out of her discarded uniform coat pocket, she pulled two large magic and sparkle plastic carrier bags, then proceeded to undress. Carefully she folded the garments and slid them into the carriers. She stood basking in the orange glow of the streetlight, for all to see though nobody was around. Removing the bra, she dropped it into one of the carriers, by her feet. Standing in her black leather knickers, stockings and suspenders, and sensible black dress shoes, she flexed her back and shoulders. Two slits appeared in the skin below the shoulder blades and two inches from the spine. They ran the length of her torso, stopping just above the waist. With a roll of the shoulders, two flesh-coloured wings flapped free into the air. Bending over she picked up her bagged clothes, then with a sudden skyward movement, she was airborne.
Eight minutes later, she safely landed on the balcony of her flat. On the other side of the glass sat Jacob, patiently waiting. As she slid the door open he quickly entwined himself around her legs, purring frantically.
“It’s good to see you too, little one.” Bending to stroke his zigzagging head the wings folded back in upon themselves into the slits of her back. “Come on Jacob, it’s time for bed. Mom’s gotta be up bright and early tomorrow, it’s her second day on the job, and she has a lot to learn.”