Tales from the Grave: Wicked Beauty

Rebecca Jane Watson had a beauty that was so odd and rare that it could not be compared, with long golden blonde locks that tumbled perfectly around and below her shoulders, giving her an angelic appearance. She had startling big blue eyes that were framed with thick full lashes. Her lips were full and plump, and were always painted a ruby red color that was to die for, and went well with her creamy skin.

But, of all her physical attributes, it was her eyes that stood out the most. They led people to believe that she was a sweet beauty, with a loving heart. However, she was anything but. In fact, one would think that, with her angelic appearance, she was an angel amongst humans but, in truth, she was downright evil and wicked.

The moment she walked into the bar, she could feel the eyes of the entire small, crowded room staring at her in awe, and confusion. With each step she took, she could practically feel the stares of hungry desire bore into her. She greeted each one with a kind, sweet smile, as she walked up to the bar as if she owned it.

"I'll have a bourbon on the rocks, please." She said, signaling the bartender. The bartender couldn't move - he was perplexed and stood before her, open-mouthed. When she saw that he didn't move, but just stood there and stared, she asked, with a grin, "Did you not hear me? Do I have to get it myself, or do I need to get my husband, Sheriff Watson to make you get my drink, boy?"

"I...uuummm...am sorry, ma'am. Right away, ma'am," said the bartender. At the mention of her husband's name, the bartender knew trouble would follow. And trouble was the last thing he needed, living in this town.

In less than a minute, the bartender pulled out his finest oldest bourbon, and poured her glass mid-way, adding ice. She sweetly took the glass, and air cheered towards him. "Thank you, boy," she said, and let the cool liquid burn her insides in all the right spots as she took a sip.

She quietly placed her drink down, and began to slowly scan the room in the mirror behind the bar that showcased the entire bar in front of her. And what she saw, put a small smile on her face. She saw the reflection the patrons of the bar, who were all staring daggers into her back. She knew why the customers of the bar were eyeing her the way they did. And it was for good reason.

She continued to stare eyeing the room, until someone caught her eye. She watched him walk in with sadness and despair. He looked tired, and of need of a good strong drink to drown the day away. But he did not see her until he had gotten closer to the bar. And when he did see her, he was stunned.

His once tired pace, changed into small timid steps. He looked at her full on once, but, when she smiled back at him, he quickly walked over avoiding her stare. She could tell by his body language that he was shy and nervous, but yet very curious. But, most importantly, very naïve.

'He's perfect,' she thought.

And with just that information alone, she knew she would have a fun night tonight. She quietly took another swig of bourbon, enjoying the cool icy burn of it all.

He glanced in her direction once more, and quickly looked back at the bartender. "Can I get a shot of Wild Turkey?" he asked. The sound of his voice was deep and strong, but shaky and full of nerves. She could tell from the way he would quickly glance in her direction, he would be ready for a wild night tonight.

"There you are, George."

"Thanks, John."

She watch as the man swiftly grabbed the shot glass out of the bartender's hand, and quickly swallowed the shot in one gulp.

She could see the harsh contents of the hard whiskey displayed on his face, as he placed the shot glass down. "Ohh, I needed that. Give me another." It didn't take long before she pegged this man as the town's drunk. When he ordered another shot of whiskey, he finally relaxed, and eased onto his stool.

He quickly chugged his second shot down. It was then that she brazenly spoke up. "Hey there, handsome. Had a long day?" she said sweetly.

The man almost choked on his whiskey, as he heard the woman's sweet voice beside him.

"I ummm... yeah," the man nervously said. "I guess you could say that." He looked the woman up and down, taking her whole presence in as he nervously played with his shot glass.

She knew that he wanted to keep the conversation going, but was frightened of what to say. This made her blood rush even more. She loved playing around with men like him.

As she leaned in closer to him, she saw him go rigid. She could tell that he was afraid to make a move on her, or even speak to her. But that did not stop him from being curious about her, and what would it be like to be with a woman of her caliber. She knew that she would have to take the lead.

"Tell ya what George. I can tell from the look in your eye, that you want to see what it's like being with a white woman. And I am here, right now, to tell you that tonight is your lucky night, boy. Come with me," she demanded.

She abruptly stood up, and walked out of the bar.

George made not a single objection. He shakily, but gleefully, followed behind the woman who could seal his fate with a few simple words. That, everyone in that bar knew all too well.

*~A*B~*

He stroked and pounded inside her with all his might. He went in deeper and changed his position to get a better angle but, no matter what he did, it was not good enough.

"Come on, you useless fucking Mandingo. FUCK ME!" she shouted.

The more she yelled at him, the more he tried to give it his all. But she still wanted more. He could feel sweat pooling at his brow, as he struggled to pick up the pace to please this woman. But still, it wasn't good enough for her .It was almost as if she was a fiend.

"Oh GOD! Turn over nigger. You can't fuck worth a shit."

He turned over and prepared himself to cum. Her long, blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulder, and framed her face perfectly, giving her an innocent look that didn't match her foul mouth.

Her blue eyes lit up with excitement, as she began riding him. With timid hands he slowly tried to reach up to grab her bountiful bouncy breasts, but she immediately smacked them away. "Hands off, nigger," she said, and continued to ride him like there was no tomorrow.

He watched her as she sped up, and could feel the sweet euphoria of sex slowly creeping up on her. Her eyes became dazed, sweat starting to show up in the right places, and her head rolled slightly from side to side. It was clear to him that she enjoyed sex, and lots of it.

After a few moments of her riding session on top of him, he, too, could feel his own orgasm coming near. The pit of his stomach grew warm and tense with each passing second. His breath came in short pants, and his need for release got closer. The way she moaned and groaned as her own climax was coming near, made the experience all the more exhilarating for him.

He looked up at the woman that was riding him, and enjoyed the sight he saw. Her once smooth, soft, blonde hair was now was wild and messy. Her cool eyes were now warm and passionate. And her sweet voice grew huskier with need with each thrust she gave him.

She was so caught up in the sensation of it all that, before he knew it, she suddenly reached her peak, as wave after wave of pure orgasmic bliss washed over her.

After the last wave, she had slowly calmed down, and eased herself onto the bed next to him.

He sat there in silence watching her, as she tried to catch her breath. He watched as her bountiful chest heaved up and down. And the magnificent sight of it all was pleasing to him.

"That was pretty great. I finally got a taste of the forbidden fruit that I always wanted to sample," he said reaching out to her.

She softly took his hand into hers and began to caress it. She glanced over at the clock on the wall, and patiently waited. 'Soon the real fun will begin,' she thought silently.

"I know that your kind is always lusting after us," she said. "And I can't say that I blame you. I would, too, if I had to sleep with your women. Hmm. They are beastly."

"Well, I am just happy that a white woman even thought about me," George said. "This has truly been the best night of my life. I ..." As the man continued to talk about nothing she gave a damn about, she zoned him out, and slowly counted down to the only thing she had been waiting for.

'5.4.3.2...ONE!' She heard her front door open and shut, and the unmistakable voice of her husband screaming her name, "REBECCA!"

And, as if on cue, she jumped out the bed and began screaming at the top of her lungs of bloody murder, "DANNY! HELP! There's a nigger in here. He raped me!"

Without hesitation, George quickly jumped out of bed grabbed all of his belongings and made a beeline to an open window. But he was too late. The force of a heavy object came crashing down on the back of his skull. His vision went blurry, and his knees went weak.

He felt himself slowly slip onto the floor. Rebecca's screaming faded in the distance as he finally took what he knew would be his last conscious breath.

Danny looked down at the man that he had bashed over the head, and looked back at his wife. He briskly walked over to her, and grabbed her tight in his loving arms "How the hell did he get in here? What the fuck happened. Beck?"

Rebecca stared back at him with a tear-stained face and rapid breaths. "He...h..e...he...he when I...I...got out the shower, I saw him standing here," she said, putting on a good show. "I tried to run, but the nigger was too fast, and he caught me. He caught me, threw me across the bed, and had his way with me."

The tears flowed freely now as she gathered more things to say. "He was awful, honey. He stank of liquor and dirt. He took something away from me that was so precious that I will never get back. Oh, honey, it was awful."

She squeezed her arms tighter around him, as she dried her fake tears into his police uniform. "Oh honey, what should I do?"

He grip her tighter in his arms, kissed her on the forehead, and whispered softly. "You don't worry about a thing sweet-cheeks. Danny and the boys will take care of this."

"What are you going to do to him?"

"Teach that nigger a lesson he will never forget. The lesson we always teach these monkeys." She looked back at him displaying re-assurance and comfort in her eyes, and a small wicked smile came across her face. "Can I go?" she asked sweetly.

He looked back down at her wiping the tears away from her angelic face. "After what he did to you, you have the right to show up at that coon's execution." He placed another kiss on her before grabbing his gun and walked out the room. "If you want to come, hurry up and go and get dressed."

As she watched him leave to make phone calls, she looked back at the prey she had finally caught for the night and looked into the mirror, seeing the reflection of her naked body. "It's been a long time, but I still got it."

~*A*B~*

The scent of death, and decay filled the air. And the screams and shouts of blood thirsty men as they drunkenly played with the body as they fell over trying to get a closer look at the damage they had done.

Rebecca stood there and watched as the men gathered around the swinging corpse, dangling from the highest tree branch, and basked in the enjoyment of the night.

"God! I have not done this in so long, I forgot how fun and exciting it was. Ohh, goodness," she said, mentally indulging in the fun and excitement of the trouble she had caused.

The man's cries and wails had echoed around the wooded area. Her husband and his friends laughed and had a few more beers as they talked about the last innocent man they had slaughtered and tormented.

Then the unmistakable scent of wood burning filled her nostrils. She slowly opened her eyes, as she grew more excited as her favorite part was going to come. She looked on with wide eyes and glee, as Danny took a burning torch and lit the body of the innocent man she had got killed on fire.

It was that moment that was the apex for her. It was at that moment that a form of sexual gratification filled her senses, and a form of arousal all at once boiled up inside her. She could feel herself getting heated with need and lust and, without even thinking, she walked over to her husband, and kissed him like she never kissed him before.

"Wow, what was that about?" he asked, pulling away.

She looked back at him licking her lips. "Seeing you take care of that nigger did something to me. I don't know what it is, but I do know I need you to take me home ,and fuck me senseless!"

He looked back at her with a big grin on his face. "Hell, you ain't got to tell me twice." He quickly picked her up in his arms and sauntered off to his truck with his wife, while his buddies made kissing sounds behind his back.

*~vVv~*

Evangeline was no ordinary woman. One might say, she was a jack of all trades. She was a mother, wife, bartender and owner, healer, spiritual teacher, community provider, and, most importantly, a practitioner of the Arts. And not the kind of arts that one would create with a canvas and a paint brush. She was a practitioner of the other kind.

Which was why she was here now sitting in the back room of her bar, listening to some sniveling white man about his up and coming election as state governor. She sat at the end of her table, staring at the pleading white man before her. If he wasn't such a prominent politician in this state, she would actually feel sorry for him.

She rolled her eyes as the man began crawling on his knees begging, with tears in his eyes, that she even consider doing this favor for him. When she felt him touching her foot, as a sign of total submissiveness, she wanted to hurl. "Alright, you pathetic fool. Get up!"

The man gratefully rose to his feet. "Wipe those sad pathetic white tears away. They disgust me." She stood up from her table and walked to the shelf, piled high with root work, spells, and potions. She looked back at him, and said, in disgust, "You know, since you are this big time white politician, I am going to up the price for you."

He looked at her with his tear-stained face, and hunched his shoulders. "I am willing to do everything it takes to win this election, Miss Evangeline. And I am more than willing to pay the price for it." He had trouble catching his breath. "I just want to win. Just name your price, and you will have it."

"Hmm, how about six thousand?" The man's mouth dropped. He wanted to protest, but she him a wicked look. "Uhhh, awhhh," he mumbled. "SIX THOUSAND! Am I clear Mr. Sandderson?"

He hung his head down in defeat, and answered her, "Yes, Mrs. Batiste."

"Good. I want my money by tomorrow morning. Are we understood?"

He shook his head in a up and down motion, indicating a yes.

"Great. Now, get out of my sight." She watched as the man grabbed his briefcase and ran out the backdoor of her bar.

She checked the time on her watch, and notice that she only had a couple of minutes before she had to see her next client. She had a busy day of her.

*~A~B~*

Milton smiled a weary nervous smile in the mirror, and practiced what he was going to say as he played with his tie, cap, and gown.

Being a natural born genius of great intellect, he had no issue with coming up with the right words to say to win over a crowd. But the issue he had was with his nerves. Despite his colorful upbringing, intelligence, and fancy suits and jewelry, he was very shy.

But, regardless of that fact, he felt like he was living on cloud nine. After all these long hard years of late night studying, and determination, he would become a Doctor and researcher of Psychology. Not only Psychology itself, but he would also be doing something that many in his field dared not do. Study the mind and behavior of whites.

And not only that, he felt like he had finally met the woman of his dreams. He held the roses, and bracelet tenderly in his hand while thinking of all the things he wanted to say to her. He knew that they had only been dating for a few weeks, but with every second he spent with her, he knew he wanted those seconds to last for a life time.

And today would be the day he would ask her something that has plagued him since they meet. He looked at the gold, royal blue, and diamond encrusted Rolex watch his mother and father had given him for his birthday, and realized he'd better get going before he was late for his next class.

*

Stepping onto the campus of the University of Pennsylvania, Milton avoided the busy bustling crowd of black students that brushed passed him. In a short amount of time, he made his way through the college campus and onto to the top floor of the administrator's office, and knocked on the door.

"Come in." said the woman inside. He quietly walked in displaying the bouquet of roses to the love of his life. "Happy birthday, my love," he said softly.

The woman who was sitting behind the desk covered with paper work excitedly jumped up with so much joy that her pen went flying through the air. She ran over to Milton with wide open arms, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Aawww, Milton, you shouldn't have." she said, grabbing the roses. She looked down and, getting a sweet whiff, smiled back at her boyfriend.

"I had to. Especially for what I am about to tell you," he said, caressing her skin. Taking her hand into his, he gently guided both of them to a couch in the corner. He looked deeply into her soft big brown eyes and prepared himself for what he was about to say. "As you know, you and I have been dating for only a few weeks, right?"

"Yes," she said.

"And with that being said, I am really falling for you and I want you to come home with me to meet my parents." He paused for a second, trying to get a read of how she was reacting. When he noticed that she stayed silent for longer than had he hoped for, he try to find the right words to say. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

She looked back down at the flowers he had given her, and exhaled deeply. "Milton, I know how you feel about me, and I just want you to know that even-though we have been dating for a short time, I do feel the same way about you. But-" She paused, trying to find the exact words to say. She loved him dearly, but she had to say was on her mind. "Honey, I just want to take things slow. Meeting your parents would be too much of a big step for me. I'm sorry, honey but-"

He put his fingers to her lips to silence her. "You don't have to explain. I understand, but part of me is disappointed, I have to admit," he said, heaving a sad sigh. "Just know that I love you, and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. Here. I have something else for you, too."

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out an emerald and gold eternity bracelet. "Here. I want you to have this." Her mouth dropped opened, and her big bright eyes gleamed over.

"Ohhh, Milton, no, please no I can't take this. Not right now." She drew her hand from his, and quickly stood up, and began to pace the floor, crying. "Milton you have been too good to me. Oh, God, you are making me feel bad."

"What's wrong with it?" he said. He quickly stood up behind her. When she turn back to face him, she had tears in her eyes. And based on her body language, she was about to say something he would not like.

"Milton. I'm married," she finally said. "I am married to a man who I cannot stand, and this whole thing between you and I cannot work," she said, sighing.

"But please know that I really do feel the same way that you do, and if I could turn back the hands of times and meet you before my husband, I would. But as of now, I cannot keep doing this to you. I love you, and I wish for the best for you."

Standing there in silence, he held the eternity bracelet with sadness. "Well, can you at least take the bracelet?" he asked.