The Devil and Danielle Webster

By Peter Johnson

A sexually frustrated woman sells her soul for the thrill of an orgasm but finds out too late that her satisfaction comes at a much heavier price than she ever thought. A tale of sex, adultery, morality and the insatiable desires of the flesh.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Johnson
• Release date: Oct 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310760174

Peter Johnson

Peter Johnson grew up in Buffalo, New York, at a time when they had a good football team, which seems like fifty years ago. Similar to Benny Alvarez and his friends, Peter always loved words, knowing he was going to be a teacher or a professional baseball player. Also, being from a long line of Irish storytellers, he loved reading and telling tales, and when he realized that his stories changed every time he told them, and that he could get paid for this kind of lying, he decided to become a novelist. His first middle grade novel, The Amazing Adventures of John Smith, Jr. AKA Houdini, was named one of the Best Children's Books by Kirkus Reviews, and he's received many writing fellowships, most notably from the National Endowment for the Arts.

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The Devil and Danielle Webster

A Novella By

Peter Johnson

© 2015  The Devil and Danielle Webster – Peter Johnson

All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed here are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover art adapted from

"Temptation" © Illusive Photography/Alan Antiporda

https://www.flickr.com/photos/alanant/3865837301/in/photostream/

and

"hand" © Eddl

https://www.flickr.com/photos/eddi_07/4344057630/

CONTENTS

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

seven.

eight.

nine.

ten.

eleven.

twelve.

thirteen.

fourteen.

fifteen.

sixteen.

also by…

one.

Confessions

The confessional was cramped. Wood-paneled walls pressing her from the sides, the door against her knees. Confining her in little more than a broom-closet.

And dark.

The discomfort and unease seemingly part of the process of confession, as if to let the confessor know the moment they sat down repentance was beginning and would not be comfortable.

Forgive me, Father, for I have..., Danielle began, when she took her place in the tiny booth and whispered towards the screen between she and the priest. I have…

She drifted off then, partly to try and find some comfort in the seat – shifting and shifting and shifting. But also because—

Honestly, she said, "I haven’t sinned."

That’s all right, child, Father McLane said from the other side. She knew him by voice, just as she was sure he knew her by voice. One need not have a sin to confess. You need only a desire to cleanse your soul.

That's…that’s why I came to you, she said. To…

She sighed – frustration? Embarrassment? Guilt? She couldn’t tell.

To I don’t know.

What is it, child? McLane said. What is it you do not know?

It’s I just…I just don’t know who to talk to about this, she said. I don’t know who can help me.

I'm intrigued, McLane said and edged closer.

It's Matthew – it’s about—

She stopped abruptly, could not believe she’d said his name.

"It’s about my husband."

Yes, I see, the priest said. Go on.

Danielle hesitated. Knew people would be out there waiting. Imagined they were listening at the thin panel of the door, ready to judge her the moment she stepped clear of the booth. Having heard every word across her lips and ready to pass along whatever bits of gossip they gleaned.

Go on, child, you can tell me.

He means well, she said. He truly does.

Your husband?

Yes, she said. "He means well – he always has."

I see.

But…but I have needs.

Financial? McLane said.

No, father, she said. Of the…

She leaned close to the screen, her lips nearly touching it. As if she could not imagine saying it aloud.

"Needs," was all she finally said.

Yes, the priest said. I think I…

He trailed off himself, unable—

"Sexual needs," she blurted.

McLane sputtered, something caught up in his throat.

Sexual.

He fiddled with his collar, felt a bit of heat rising.

Go on, he said.

The truth is, father… The truth is…

She sighed.

The truth is I’ve never had an orgasm, she said.

Oh my.

Now I know for men like you, she said, this is the way it was meant to be. But for me…

She sighed again, laid her forehead upon the panel dividing them above the screen. The smell of her perfume drifted through the screen and the priest…

Her bosoms—

He was thinking about—

Her bosoms.

"But it’s not just my husband, she said. I’ve been with other men before…"

She crossed herself at the admission, even as she’d long ago confessed those sins—

Fornication—

"And they didn’t…"

The priest coughed, fought down the image of her with other men. Fought down the image of Danielle Webster nude, in the throes of ecstasy. Her lithe body, shapely ass, rare on a mother… Her flaming red hair… Her full breasts…

Forgive me, Lord, the priest thought and crossed himself, but I have had lustful thoughts.

And…and his penis is quite lovely, but I…

Ten ‘Hail Mary’s’, the Lord commanded the priest.

But…I…

She drifted off, searching for the words. Could hear the priest shifting in discomfort across from her.

When we make love, at night, after the children have gone to bed, we—

Yes? the priest said, finding his voice. Tell me of it?

I do everything I can think of, she said. And he is pleased. Sometimes more than once.

Everything?

Even that which is forbidden, she said.

Oh my, said the priest.

He cleared his throat, as if ready to share wisdom.

Yes? Danielle said, eagerly.

Have you spoken to him? the priest said. Of your struggles?

Danielle shook her head.

No, she said. "I wouldn’t know how to."

Candidly, I suspect, the priest said.

Yes, I meant…

She sighed again, the sound heavy with burden.

"But he enjoys it, so it…so it…must be me, she said. Maybe I’m frigid. Maybe I can’t be—"

Have you been to a—

And when I masturbate—

Masturbation is a sin, Father McLane said, the words coming automatically, without any thought behind them.

Yes, I know, she said. "But when I do it, it is...it never truly pleased me."

She paused and silence hung in the air. The priest out of his depth, Danielle not sure what else to say. The heavy weight of silence between them.

Finally—

"Why tell me, child?"

Because I don’t know who to turn to, she said. Sometimes I think I'd sell my soul just for one, simple—

She stopped suddenly when a blinding sound echoed through her ear. As of a thousand trumpets playing out of tune all at once.

You mustn't say such things, the priest said.

Did you hear that? Danielle said and probed about her ear with a finger.

Hear what?

There was a noise, she said. When I…

She looked about the darkness of the booth.

You should never say such things about your soul, the priest returned.

Yes, father, I know, but I don't know what else to do, she said. I love my husband and my children, and I’ve tried everything, but there is something missing and I…

She laid both hands aside the screen then, lowered her