I stared down at her limp body on my bed, still draped in the habit she had chosen to wear, even after she had seen the fire in my eyes. The switch was punishment for her choice of costume, but she had a great deal more to endure. She had tortured me for two and a half years, now she would pay for every flirt, every tease, and every giggle.

"Get up."

She did not move.

"I do not like to repeat myself, GET UP!"

Again she did not move. I went to the bed and pulled her by the hair to a standing position in the center of the room. Horror was in her eyes again.

"You have a great deal to answer for girl, but first you will lose that offensive costume."

She stared at me with blank eyes. Her stare was answered with a sharp slap. I had warned her about looking me in the eyes. Her response was too slow for me. I opened the top draw of my desk and removed my hunting knife. A ten inch razor sharp blade slid from its sheath into my skilled hand. I moved toward her sl...

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