Breaking Free From Evil Quotes

“Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” I knew right then what I had to do. I went straight home, got down on my knees and prayed...”
― Shelley Lubben, Truth Behind the Fantasy of Porn: The Greatest Illusion on Earth

“The Wretched Rulers of Freiland by Stewart Stafford

A two-faced mirror, vainly warm,
A beauteous sheen to a swinish form,
Bloated with gold and wanton pride,
As cormorants in cuckoo nests, they hide.

They gorge on fabrication, binge on strife,
Parasites living off another life,
Suckers draining every dream,
Like leeches in a poisoned stream.

Shells crack, the rotten egg cabal;
The bonfire of inanities banal,
Power loosened in a fading grip,
Fleeing the wake of freedom's ship.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Penelope shuddered and swirled around. Something dangerous lurked in the raging fire. Then a black shadow wrapped around her. The foggy shape of a man stood beside her, its eyes wicked black points, its strong arrogant face challenging her.
“So you’re the one sent to stop me.” It spoke with a proud voice and stroked her shoulder.
She winced and pulled away, disgust rushing through her, but even as she hated its touch, it also awakened a forbidden hunger, and a pleasant thrill traveled up her spine.
The Atrox smiled as if it knew her secret thoughts. Too late she realized she had let down her guard. It was in her mind, sensing her revulsion and desire. Its grin filled with hideous confidence.
Fervent flames shot up in celebration, howling with desire, the swirling vortex slapping around her. Her heart throbbed, its beat slowing. The cold became unendurable and she began to cry, tears freezing on her cheeks. When she could bear it no more, the pain changed and burst through her veins with a sweet ache, filling her with deliciously evil and dangerous longings. She saw new possibilities. Why not give in and join the Atrox? Why continue the struggle?
The conflagration hissed louder, her flesh needing its touch. Shadow hands fondled her back, the caress intolerably arousing. She surrendered and stretched out her arms. But as she ran her hands over her body, her fingers touched the talisman, and the trance broke. She recoiled and tried to step away from the fire. The blaze grabbed her and drew her back, its soft swelling roar trying to comfort her.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Talisman