He smiled. I smiled back and welcomed him inside.I bolted the door as he wheeled his suitcase into the room and sat down on the bed. ?It is good to me...t you, Anna. My slut,? he said.I walked to him, handed him a glass of wine and knelt at his feet. ?It is good to meet you too, Sir.?He took a sip and said, ?Show me, my rapewhore.?With another calming breath I raised my shaking hands to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his pants. I could feel his hardness pressing against the fabric and was pleased. He felt a sense of foreboding. Something about his superior's disquiet was contagious, disturbing. He had no clue to the possible cause, but since the grotesque death of Father Bernard, everyone in the church structure was nervous, unsettled.If only we had dealt with that corrupt bastard as he deserved, early on, he thought to himself. Such thoughts could never be uttered, he knew. He should have been retired, quietly sent away.Monsignor Arturo Vitelli was a suspicious man. He took nothing at. More

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