"I can't believe you have this filth in your office." The woman in his office screamed at him.
"It's art. That book is about Ruben's works." He patiently explained, trying to stay calm.
"I don't care what you call it. It has pictures of naked women!" As she continued yelling at him, the woman was flipping through page after page of pictures, many depicting several full figured nudes.
"Mrs. Solomon . . ." He tried to explain again, but she cut him off and now her voice was low and menacing.
"I'll have you out of this church for this." She ripped a page from the book, holding it aloft in one hand.
He was pastor of a small town church and the woman was his worst nightmare. Although the town was small, the church was "high-steeple," the congregation counting many of the town's shakers and movers in his number.
The woman, Billie Solomon, had always been a thorn in his side. She had been critical of his every word, every move from the time he first arrived four years ago. He had put up with it, even tried to win her over, but to no avail.
For the first three years, he had weathered the storm; had been accepted by the congregation as their leader. But this last year had been different. Perhaps the people were tired him or perhaps tired of this old Bitch's griping and were willing to let him to shut her up.
Whatever the reason, William knew that in the past few months, he had moved from solid ground to thin ice with the congregational leaders. He was afraid that this might be the final straw; afraid he would be fired. If he were, it would be difficult to find another church.
Still trying to remain calm, he continued to try reason with her, but each time he started to speak, she cut him off. He felt his voice growing lower as things grew more heated, until he realized he was shouting at her.
Suddenly she stopped and took a step backward, smiling. "You might as well pack up. You're gone."
Hearing her words and seeing her expression, something snapped inside him and before he could stop himself he had lunged forward and was holding her throat in one hand. He was a big man with hands large enough to keep her from getting away.
With almost glee, fueled by pent-up anger, he watched her eyes bug out is shock, watched her to struggle to free herself. He wanted to hurt her, humiliate her.
Without knowing exactly why, his other hand reached for her blouse, grabbing, pulling, ripping, revealing her bra. It fastened in the front, like the bras his wife wore and his hand deftly unfastened it.
As her breasts were bared, William was actually surprised. They were round, soft, and quiet lovely. She was such a bitch that he had never thought that anything about her could be attractive in the least. Still holding her throat, he pinched one of her nipples hard, enjoying not only the feel of her skin, but also the gasp from her throat and the expression of pain in her eyes.
Hearing her begin to gurgle, he loosened his grip on her throat. He did not really want to kill her, although he had fantasized about it before.
