Retribution: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
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About this ebook
She was her father’s Princess, Treasure of her mother’s life. Through neither fault nor effort of her own, Clarissa Christina Shannon was the only child of parents considered among the top ten wealthiest people on the planet. Hers was a life without want ... and she wanted everything!
She was sixteen.
She wanted to save the whales.
Wanted to save the environment.
To save starving babies in Bangladesh.
Well ... that last one was really her current dearest best friend Suzette’s idea ... but Clarissa jumped on it like it was hers from the get go!
She was sixteen.
Daddy sent a couple of extra Security Consultants along to help Andy Scott, her life-long nanny and bodyguard, keep the bad things away.
But the bad things came anyway.
The Save The Bangy Babies Express was scheduled to stop in Bangkok, Thailand for refueling and the mandatory PressFest. Except that the airport where they landed was out in the middle of nowhere.
Where the bad things lived.
The Security Consultants died trying to keep the bad things away.
Andy Scott was beaten unconscious trying to keep them off Clarissa. At least he didn’t have to witness them ripping her clothes off and raping her in front of Suzette and the other survivors ... not to mention all the Internet LookyLous!
Andy could catch the reruns later.
If he lived that long.
Which wasn’t very likely.
Death was frequent in this place; though it hardly ever came easy.
Clarissa Shannon lost her innocence, her virginity, and most of her sanity on the floor of an airplane in the middle of a jungle few civilized people even knew existed.
It was streamed to the Internet for the whole wide world to watch.
She was sixteen.
Daddy sent a rescue team to get his daughter back; they all died without ever laying eyes on her. Then, the most lethal entity that ever walked the earth on two bare, bloody feet killed all the bad things. Killed the whole village! Then went for Clarissa Shannon.
She looks like anyone she chooses; moves among us without being noticed; stands still as the dead; moves faster than they eye can follow; speaks and understands every language ever uttered by all of the Earth's Peoples; whispers unto your heart and communes with the Angel who is your Soul ...
She is Bek ...
If necessary, she can and will kill every life in the World to protect Clarissa Shannon.
God help anybody who gets in her way ...
Because nothing else in Heaven or the World can stop her!
Wallace Williamson
Wallace Williamson is a storyteller; always has been, always will be. His stories range from paranormal thrillers (RETRIBUTION series, CheerLeaders In The Mist series), to elegant erotica (Stories2Read Naked@Night), to 'growing up in Dixie' (Collins Crossing series), to contemporary life in America (London Bitches). Check out his website: www.DollarDreadfuls.Com, where you'll find stories, games, trinkets, T-shirts, artwork and other examples of delightful debauchery to tease and amuse your inner-WildChild!Yes, all the profits from the T-shirts really goes to fight breast cancer; so buy a shirt and save some boobies!
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Retribution - Wallace Williamson
How We Got
To Where We Are
June — 2003
Clarissa Christina Shannon lost her innocence and her virginity on the floor of an airplane. It was streamed to the Internet for the whole wide world to watch.
She was sixteen.
She was her father’s Princess, the Treasure of her mother’s life. She was kind to everybody, though she had been known to tease her pretty-much-lifelong-Nanny/ Bodyguard without mercy.
Loved animals; had lots and lots of pets.
Dogs.
Cats.
Horses.
Dolphins.
Koala Bears.
Had her own zoo.
Her own aquarium.
Through neither fault nor effort of her own, Clarissa Shannon was the only child of parents considered among the top ten wealthiest people on the planet. Hers was a life without want … and she wanted everything!
And Daddy gave it to her.
She was sixteen.
She wanted to save the whales.
She wanted to save the environment.
She wanted to save the starving babies in Bangladesh.
Well … that last one was really Suzette’s idea … but Clarissa had jumped on it like it was hers from the get go!
She was sixteen.
Suzette Delchamps, of the New Orleans Delchamps, was Clarissa Shannon’s current dearest friend. One morning, during tennis, Suzette had more or less cast a devious dare by suggesting that they should be totally outraged at all the starving babies in Bangladesh; and of course Clarissa suddenly was; even though she wasn’t really sure where Bangladesh even was; was more than a little foggy as to even exactly what it was. Nevertheless, she’d stormed into her father’s office right in the middle of a meeting and demanded — DEMANDED! — that he immediately fill a plane with some baby food stuff and let her take it to those poor starving little Bangythingie babies!
And of course he had.
Despite his wife’s grave misgivings.
GraceAnne Shannon had used up every trick in the Mother’s Guide to Surviving Teenagers to convince her husband and daughter that she should at least go along with the girls.
But Clarissa was sixteen.
What sixteen-year-old wants momma along for such a grand adventure!
Daddy made all the travel arrangements; well, his people did anyway. He also sent a couple of extra Security Consultants along to help Andy Scott keep the bad things away.
But the bad things came anyway.
The Save The Bangy Babies Express was scheduled to stop in Bangkok, Thailand for refueling and the mandatory PressFest. Except that the airport where they landed was out in the middle of nowhere.
Where the bad things lived.
The two Security Consultants died on the plane trying to keep the bad things away. She never even knew their names.
Andy Scott was beaten unconscious trying to keep them off her. At least he didn’t have to witness them ripping her clothes off and raping her in front of Suzette and the other survivors … not to mention all the Internet LookyLous!
Movie Time!
Andy could catch the reruns later.
If he lived that long.
Which wasn’t very likely.
Death was frequent in this place; though it hardly ever came easy.
Movie time!
That’s what they called it.
Clarissa Shannon’s tender young mind never imagined that such perversity even existed.
She was sixteen.
They made the ransom demand while raping and beating their guests all at the same time.
Called it tenderizing.
Then, just to prove that they were serious about the whole thing, they gang-raped the pilot while pulling his nails off with pliers, and beat him mercilessly, and pulverized his fingers and toes with hammers, and shocked him with live electric wires, and gnawed his ears off with their bare teeth, and burned him with gas torches, and dug his teeth out with a screwdriver, and ripped his genitals off with a broken bottle, and gouged his eyes out with their fingers, and peeled his skin off with a belt sander, and reamed his rectum out with a hole-saw.
He was a tough guy.
Took them all day to kill him.
Then they filleted what was left and ate him!
Six cameras caught and streamed all the wild and crazy action to the World Wide Web.
Movie Time!
The flight attendant, a short matronly woman with a husband and three kids, went the next day.
They were especially fond of women.
She lasted only four hours.
Movie Time!
The co-pilot managed a respectable six hours of screaming and bleeding his life away before becoming the evening’s stew.
Movie Time!
Suzette Delchamps, of the New Orleans Delchamps, had been Clarissa’s current dearest friend.
Today was her last.
Andy Scott tried to beg them to take him instead of Suzette. But he could only barely speak now and was paralyzed from about his butt-cheeks down and therefore not as responsive as sweet little juicy Suzette.
He was tomorrow’s entertainment.
Suzette was exceptionally well stacked for a sixteen year old debutante; the men took their time raping her as many ways as possible before moving on to more disfiguring activities … like chewing her formerly impressive breasts off her chest one gnawing bite at a time!
She was also a natural-born screamer; managing a highly impressive near-continuous ear-shattering wail … until the cherry-red poker that’d already cooked her fucked-out pussy and ass finally sizzled down her gouged-to-shreds throat and ended not only her maddening protestations but her life as well.
Movie Time!
Clarissa spent the rest of the afternoon down on her bare belly on a hard table entertaining the troops. Her last tricks of the day were a couple fat slobs who smelled like burnt spare-ribs.
One tried his level best to ram his erection as far down her throat as inhumanly possible while his only slightly less obese comrade pounded away on her torn and bloody butt with fevered gusto. The humiliation of being double-teamed by a couple of filthy fatsos on real-time Internet streams was seconded only by the very real threat of suffocation.
The fat guy riding her rear was sort of sprawled on top of her; leaving pretty much no room for respiration.
The short but very large cock crammed in her mouth was a hell of a distraction in its own right.
The filthy slob poking her face started drooling down his chin, over his bulbous belly, onto the top of her already crusty head just as his knob finally started squirting down her throat.
Her last snack for the day.
The scumbag ripping her a new bung hole held out a few more minutes before popping his nuts and rolling off.
The bullies caning Andy Scott had already lost interest in beating a mostly dead and unconscious bag of broken bones. So they hustled the Movie Stars back to their festering cesspool of a dungeon and headed to the chow line.
Movie time was over … for a while …
She crawled over to the still, bloody man hanging by his wrist bindings … tried to stand up … wanting to un-lash him and lay him down beside her … unable to do much more than weep at his feet.
Raggedy Andy.
Her own personal whipping boy.
He went everywhere she went; always watching out for her.
She treated him like total dog crap.
Disparaged his presence at every opportunity.
Tried her level best to make him hate her.
Made him go naked with her on a crowded Caribbean beach; didn’t get a rise out of him when she made him oil her up; decided he was gay; told all her friends he was; ragged on him at every opportunity.
Raggedy Andy.
And still he stayed.
Kept the bad things away.
Mostly …
Got beat half to death trying to keep them off her in the plane.
The dummy should’ve dumped her sorry butt years ago!
Clarissa Shannon wept; for her bodyguard; for herself; for the death she’d brought to her entourage.
It was all that she could do.
Before she could completely suffocate the last little remaining bit of herself in choking self-pity, the dungeon door was suddenly thrown open and two large and bleeding naked men were tossed inside.
One landed on top of her.
Clarissa assumed that she was being raped again.
Tried to scream.
Didn’t have the strength for it anymore.
Didn’t really care anymore.
So she just laid there in the reeking darkness and bled her life out; unaware that the man on top of her was doing the same.
She was sixteen …
Back2Top
Chapter One
Contested Territories
Southeast Asia
The explosion was so loud and close that she thought her pitch-dark little dungeon was going to cave in! Clarissa Shannon tried to scream; didn’t have the strength for it anymore.
Didn’t really care anymore.
Really loud gunfire brought her back to focus; albeit slowly. She finally managed to wiggle out from under the big man lying on top of her like a giant bag of wet sand, which was a lot harder to do than it should have been because she was mostly starved and raped and beaten to death. If there had been any light in the stinking little hellhole, she would have seen that she was also bleeding almost as much as the man who’d been dying on top of her.
She crawled as far away from the door as she could; passed out from the effort.
When she finally fought her way back to semi-consciousness, it sounded just like Clarissa Shannon imagined that a war would sound; men yelling, women screaming, children wailing, more smaller explosions, and lots … lots … of gunfire! She mashed her hands hard over her ears and screamed right along with the poor doomed bastards outside her dungeon door.
Andy Scott just sort of moaned; he hadn’t really been all present and accounted for in quite some time now.
The two Navy SEALs laid still and quiet in a bloody heap. The Lieutenant’s liver and a few other internals the human body was never designed to function without had been shot away … the King didn’t even pretend to have enough horses or men to put the poor gutted bastard back together again!
Senior Chief Petty Officer Carlos Rodriguez was already dead.
Outside the small cave that served as a makeshift detention cell, the worst nightmare ever spawned ruled the predawn darkness. Death Incarnate swept among the horrified, terrified, petrified men, women and children faster than the human eye could follow; with no sound the human ear could perceive … and left none alive in passing!
Men fired their weapons indiscriminately; only warm bodies they hit were each other.
A young woman long, ago abducted from her far-away village, lay huddled and weeping in a tight ball to protect her newborn child. A long curved knife zipped through her body just slightly slower than the speed of sound itself; cutting her in half lengthwise from neck to crotch, the baby clutched futilely at her breast simply halved just below his still pliable ribcage.
The sword of Retribution knows not mercy!
Clarissa Shannon was still screaming, as best she could, when the heavy wooden door was thrown open so violently that one of the big iron hinges broke clean off! Clarissa screamed louder and curled into a tight ball around Andy Scott’s unfeeling feet.
LEAVE HER ALONE GOD DAMN YOU!
Andy Scott screamed in his tortured mind; though no sound passed his dry, bloody lips.
A smallish, seemingly delicate hand still dripping bloody gore reached down and gently clasped the terrified girl’s neck just where it became the back of her head … with unnervingly dramatic effect!
A warm, comforting wave of indescribable bliss washed over Clarissa’s mind, body and Soul. Sort of like when she had twisted her ankle skiing and the Medic had given her that shot … only better!
Demerol had snuffed out the pain but left her head kind of fuzzy.
Clarissa Shannon’s mind was suddenly clearer and more sharply focused than she had ever before known.
She no longer hurt.
Was no longer afraid.
A small, quiet voice that her ears never heard told her heart, We must leave this place now, for soon others will come.
The young woman stood and faced her savior; tall as Clarissa herself, completely covered in bloody gore from the bottoms of her bare feet to the tip top of her hairless head.
Naked.
Obviously female.
Clasping a bloody machete in one hand and a similarly gory Gurkha Kukri in the other.
Unnaturally flat black Eyes that seemed to suck in light like a dry sponge would water.
With great effort, Clarissa turned her gaze away from … whatever she was … to the men behind her. We cannot leave them.
The bloody woman, who was beginning to crust up a little, looked beyond the savagely battered girl to the men still clinging to Life. She stepped over and placed a soft but firm kiss on the painfully dying Lieutenant and released the valiant warrior Angel that was his Soul. When she leaned over Andy Scott, Clarissa clasped her grisly shoulder and pleaded, No … do not take him!
As she began to stand, Scott bulldozed through the excruciating agony racking his broken body and somehow managed to raise a hand and feebly clasp her arm. "Yes … kill … me … please!"
The bloody woman with the empty eyes faced the young girl, and after a long pondering moment asked, Would you forfeit your Life for that of your servant?
Yes,
Clarissa answered without hesitation; though with some surprise in her heart. As you would for me.
Might’ve been a smile, maybe a smirk, more like a really scary grimace; best she could manage under the circumstances. You were well chosen, Child.
Clarissa beamed as proudly as she did for Daddy!
I can ease his suffering, for a time. I cannot heal his body. He cannot walk.
Then I will carry him.
Will you,
the bloody woman whispered softly. Will you indeed …
The bald naked woman covered with chunky, crusting blood came out of the dungeon cave first; looking, listening, smelling, feeling for any threats … nothing capable of doing them harm remained alive!
The young woman, also naked and bloody — though the blood adorning her bruised and battered body was pretty much all hers! — first tried holding the naked, bloody and unconscious man on her right side; his arm draped over her neck and held with her left hand while her right arm futilely attempted to maintain a grasp around his slippery waist. They were both too sweaty and bloody for her to maintain a grip. She barely made it out the door before they both ended up in a tangled heap down on the filthy floor!
Clarissa Shannon refused to cry; fought it with the few remaining dregs of determination left inside her. She thought about what to do about Andy Scott; he was practically broken in two, unconscious though probably in agony anyway, and quite likely dying a slow, miserable death.
I … will … NOT … leave … you … in … this … place!
She pulled his arms over her shoulders like backpack straps and forced herself to stand; blood streamed down her legs from her much-abused rectum and womb. She was five-foot five and weighed a hundred-thirty pounds before she was forced into a brutal starvation diet; Andy Scott stood six three — back when he could still actually stand! — and hadn’t lost but a few of his muscular hundred and ninety-six pounds. Made it almost nine whole feet before collapsing again!
Clarissa cried this time; nothing left to fight it off with.
You cannot carry him,
the soft, soothing voice whispered in her mind.
"I … know …" Clarissa moaned as she wept.
You are bleeding again.
"I know …"
The bloody woman, now covered in buzzing flies, leaned down, clasp Andy Scott’s face in her hands.
Crushed her crusty lips against his cracked, scabrous lips.
Kissed him for a good minute and a half.
Long …
Hard …
Breathless …
Until she found what she needed to know.
Wait here,
she said as she broke the kiss and disappeared into the still dark village.
Sure,
Clarissa sniffled as she struggled a bit to move Andy Scott’s elbow out of her ribs. No problem.
While Clarissa was still wiggling and bleeding, the fly-covered woman returned with a very large backpack sporting a grungy white circle encompassing a faded red cross. She untangled Scott and stretched him out on his side and began rummaging through the medical pack.
What’re you doing?
We must pack your wounds to stop the bleeding.
She pulled out two large rolls of un-wrapped gauze. It is all that the man knows to do.
Wait!
Clarissa shouted as the woman leaned to ram one of the five-inch diameter rolls straight between her bloody butt cheeks.
What?
Have you ever done this before?
No.
Do you really know what you’re doing?
All that I could glean from the man was general concepts …
Let me do the front,
Clarissa said; not really encouraged by gleaning and general concepts and all. "Then you can do my … backside … ok?"
Ok.
As she rummaged through the medical bag, which was chocked full of scary things that she really hoped nobody would ever use on her, Clarissa muttered more or less to herself, We could really use some clean water; couple of blankets.
She never even heard the woman leave … or return! But when Clarissa looked up after arranging the gauze rolls and antiseptic bottles, the fly-covered woman was standing there with twenty-three canteens and two plastic-wrapped blankets hanging on her.
Wow!
"Man … we’ve got to do something about these horrible bugs," Clarissa said after slugging down half a canteen of far-from-tasteless-but-hopefully-clean-enough-not-to-kill-her water and swatting a few of the nasty little flying-teeth chewing on her. "They must be eating you alive!"
She