She had been the first one to catch his eye as he had surveyed his new congregation. Fucking shit, those others were such dumpy sluts. Even the dog wouldn't want them. He had bitched like hell when they had told him that he was being reassigned to Martinsville. Shit, he had never even heard of the place. And how would he leave Mrs. Johnson, with her tight, sticky cunt? God, she could ball him good! Even if she did fart every time she came. Or Penny Anderson. He laughed each time Bruce Anderson came to him and confessed that he couldn't curb his lust, that he had gone with another hooker from Pittsburg and gotten his ashes hauled. Christ, if Bruce could see his daughter giving head he would forget about his whores in Pittsburg. Penny's teen-age lips gave the best blowjobs he had ever had.
But fucking Martinsville! What a hole. Everybody knew everybody else's damn business and you couldn't even get laid around the dump without the town council passing a resolution about it. Those goddamn elders had a lot of fucking nerve to send him here! "It's only for two years!" they had insisted. "Then you'll get a good parish!" But in two years his cock could wither and dry up unless, he could find some juicy snatch to keep it young. And all those goddamn old ladies watched every move he made. He couldn't even go out and get laid at night without the whole town knowing about it.
Well, they could all get fucked. That was the way Cotton Salter saw it. Nobody was going to tell him that a minister's prick is only made for pissing. That little blonde cunt had caught his eye on the very first Sunday. She had been with her mother, a dried-out old twat if there ever was one. She had probably never even seen her husband's prick with the lights on. But the blonde, what a piece of tail! He had to admit that she was ripe, even if she did look like she thought a bone was just something that you give to the dog. He knew he had to have her. Even before he finished the sermon his prick was hard. It pissed him off that he would have to go back to the rectory and jerk it off. But he vowed on his Holy Bible that he'd bang her little ass the first chance he could get.
Martinsville was such a shitty little dump that he had lots of time to think about it. His first move had been to take a good look around the church. Shit, the church was the biggest building in town. They had built the thing when everyone was expecting that a factory was going up by the tracks, and the factory would attract more factories and the factory workers and their goddamn bosses would flock into the church every Sunday, and if they liked it well enough, they'd dump their dollars in the silver sucker plate. So they'd gone ahead and built the church, but the factory never came.
The feature of the church which Cotton Salter found to be of particular interest was the basement. It was almost as big and complex as the basements in some of the smaller cathedrals he had seen. Nobody ever went down there. They couldn't afford to heat it. Except for the furnace room and the tool room for the maintenance worker, the whole basement was sealed off. Of course, they had turned the key over to him since he was the new minister. They had suggested that he put it in a desk drawer and forget it. There wasn't even any lighting in the empty part of the basement and it was reached by a separate entrance, a small door right next to the rectory.
Cotton had listened with interest, assuring them that he would follow their advice. He had waited until evening when the town was quiet. Then, with a flashlight in hand, he had set about his explorations.
At first he couldn't even get the damn door open. He had to go out to his car and get the jack handle and wedge it in the crack. The lock finally opened and he forced the door open on its rusty hinges. A rat scurried past his feet and he flung the jack handle after it. It pleased him that he hit the rat's tail and made it squeal, even though it managed to get away. The rat didn't know how lucky he had been. The next prisoner in this basement might not fare so well. With his flashlight in his hand, he started forward into the darkness.
He didn't see the cobwebs and they wisped across his face. Cotton cursed and wiped them off his cheek. He wondered if there had been a spider in them. That blonde cunt was probably scared of spiders. That would be a laugh. Maybe he could find one just for her and let it crawl down her tits and spin a web around her box. Then he could ram his prick into her and shove the web right up her hole. It would really drive her wild. Maybe he would try it if he could find a god damn spider.
The north end of the church basement was smaller than he had expected but although the room was damp and cold, Cotton fell in love with it immediately. The walls were thick. Thicker than he had imagined. There was no way that the maintenance people could hear her cries through these walls. Nor was there any way that the congregation could hear her cries. There was a heavy door blocking off the room from the corridor which led out to the rectory entrance and so he wouldn't even have to gag her. He liked that part. He wanted to hear her cry. He wanted to hear her beg for mercy when he pulled her legs apart. God, would that be good! He could hardly wait.
But Cotton understood patience. His patience had made him what he was today. He understood that he was one of the chosen ones in the church and that out of all the ordained ministers he was one of the few who would have a wealthy parish someday. And his day would be coming soon. Just as soon as he finished this Martinsville gig. So he could wait. But he wasn't going to rot. With that little blonde twat down in the basement to keep him company, he could sit it out. And he could teach her a few things too. Things that even her horny little friends didn't know about.
Cotton returned to the room at the north end of the basement the following night. This time he brought a supply of candles with him. They were the nice thick candles that were used on the altar of the church and they would suit his purpose perfectly. He tried to imagine what she would look like in the flickering illumination. And that night he began to inspect the wall.
Although the rocks were solid, he found that he might be able to drive in bolts at the joints where the stones came together. He measured the wall carefully and picked a suitable spot. He would have to go to a blacksmith for what he wanted, and he certainly could not go to one in Martinsville. He would make a special trip for what he needed. That would be an adventure in itself. Lydia could guide him to a place where they would be discreet . . . and the chains would be heavy.
He went to Pittsburg on a Monday afternoon. He had told his secretary that he wouldn't be back until the following morning. He explained that he had to pick up some clerical supplies and visit an elderly lady to whom he had given comfort as a young minister. The secretary said how nice that was. He wondered what she would have said if she could meet Lydia.
The whorehouse was almost empty, the way that it always was on Monday nights. There was a pimply kid in a sailor uniform in the parlor and a dumpy broad in a black wig was playing with him, holding her hand in his lap, trying to grab his cock. Cotton walked past the parlor and out to the kitchen. He knew he would find Lydia there. She saw him and threw her arms around him, managing to give him a big kiss while she rubbed her cunt against his bone. Cotton tried to speak to her but he found his throat going dry. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper that he had brought for her. But she didn't even notice it. Already she was calling for Mindy, her latest acquisition. She wanted to introduce him. Mindy would get him started for the evening. Cotton pushed the paper back into his pocket. His legs were trembling beneath him. He saw the new girl. She was blonde and young, just like that other cunt. She didn't look like she was even eighteen. Lydia had a lot of nerve to use her. The girl took him by the arm and Lydia pushed a bottle of bourbon into his other hand. Cotton tried to thank her but the words wouldn't come. It was always like this when he got around women. It was the devil's lust that gripped him. And there was only one way to shake it loose.
Cotton followed Mindy up the stairs. He didn't even notice how worn the carpet was from the many feet which had trod on it to make this same trip. All he could see was Mindy's body displayed so teasingly under the transparent robe. He followed the movement of her legs and tried to gaze through the tiny black panties that covered her snatch. When she turned to help him at the top of the stairs he reached out and put his hand on her tit. Mindy giggled and asked him if he wanted her to take off the bra. Cotton didn't answer but continued to clutch at her. Mindy told him to come on, they could do it in the room. Cotton didn't argue but followed her inside. She closed the door behind them and Cotton screwed the top off the bottle. Mindy stood with her back to the door, watching him drink. And watching the stiff white collar around his neck.
Cotton took a quick gulp of the bourbon and started to lower the bottle from his lips. Mindy put her hand on her hip and cocked her leg. Cotton abruptly raised the bottle to his lips again and took another belt. He had to calm his nerves . . . and the horrible urge that had come over him.
Mindy was still standing with her back to the door when he came at her. She screamed as he grabbed her bra between the two cups. Cotton slapped her across the face and she stared at him in amazement. "Daughter of Satan!" he thundered as he ripped the bra from her body. His firm grip tore both the shoulder straps and the hooks behind her back. Mindy stood against the door, not daring to move now. Cotton reached for his prick. He pinned her to the door and clawed at her knobs with his fingers. The hard bone sprang loose from his pants. His grip shifted to her panties. Mindy gasped as he tore them away from her body. He had not even bothered to take off his clerical clothes.
He took her hard, right against the door. Mindy had never fucked standing up and Cotton had to force her into position. He did it without speaking, by pressing down on her shoulders until her knees bent just enough so that he could slip his stiff cock into her cunt. He groaned as he did it. Cotton was hung. He fucked her quickly, not caring that her ass was beating against the door at every stroke that he took. Outside in the hall it sounded like a drum. It was over in another moment. His pent-up seed surged into her snatch as Cotton cursed and groaned. He slowly stood back from her and retrieved the bottle which somehow he had managed to set upright on the floor. He took another slug of whiskey and looked down at his prick. He seemed amazed that it was still hard.
"What did you do?" Cotton mumbled, looking from his prick to the girl.
"Hey buddy, don't look at me. You had that when you came in here!" the girl snapped at him, now recovering her poise and professional attitude. Lydia had taught her always to keep the customers under control. She promised herself that this one would not get away from her again. She had not reckoned on Cotton Salter.
"God's curse!" the minister grumbled to himself. "Fornication!" he added, not making himself entirely clear. Mindy had found a towel and was proceeding to wipe away the more conspicuous globs of Cotton's load. She turned her back on him for a moment to toss the towel onto the washstand but it was a mistake. Cotton's arm went around her neck like a vise. This time he pulled her onto the bed. He flung her on her back and she fell with her legs apart. Her robe opened up even before Cotton's hands tore it.
"Hey! Go easy," Mindy begged, realizing that once again she had lost control of her client. But she knew better than to try and stop him. Cotton found the bottle again and took another drink. Whiskey spilled down his chin and across the front of his black shirt but he didn't seem to notice. He had still not removed his pants and his flaming-red prick, streaked with Mindy's juices, stood out in sharp contrast to the somber black trousers and black shoes.
"Jezebel! Hell-hag!" Cotton bellowed, wiping the whiskey from his chin and seizing his prick in his hand. Mindy lay on her back and struggled to keep her legs parted so that Cotton could take her with ease but suddenly he grabbed her by the hair on her head and jerked her up into a sitting position. Mindy cried in surprise but Cotton was already shoving his prick into her mouth. She gagged and choked and struggled to take it. She sucked quickly, hoping that it would please him enough to make him release his grip on her hair. It felt like the hair was coming out by the roots. She had seen some screwballs since Lydia had taken her on, but this guy took the cake. She wondered if he was really a minister. It had been a long time since she had been to church.
.
"Suck on it you filthy slut!" Cotton yelled, shaking her head frantically so that her lips bobbed back and forth on his cock. "For the love of God, suck on it!" She could see his eyes flashing as if he was having a fit. "Let the power of God wash away your sins!" he screamed, his voice almost cracking. "Let God's Jove enter into your head and mind!"
Mindy sucked faster, even though he was holding her in a very uncomfortable position. She was convinced now that he collar was real. Only a minister could talk the way he did. What he was saying scared her. She had always been afraid of ministers, ever since the parson back at home had caught her necking and warned her of the fires of hell. Cotton Salter was a man of God. Mindy was sure of that. She trembled to think what would happen to her if she didn't do his will.
"God's love..." Cotton croaked, his voice drying out now. He tried to reach the bottle but it was too far away. His grip had slackened on the blonde's head. He could feel himself going weak. The devil was leaving his body. "Cast out the forces of Hell!" Cotton stammered. "Let God's love fill your. . . " Cotton stopped and looked down at the girl. His come was rushing up from his balls. He saw her gulp as it shot into her in a hard spurt. She was sucking and gulping, trying to take it all, trying to keep it from running down her chin. She swallowed once. There wasn't room in her mouth for all of it. She licked at his prick, washing it clean. Finally she looked up to him for some signal that it was all over. "Mouth," Cotton said weakly, finishing his sentence. He fell back on his knees and pointed to the bottle. Mindy got up and gave it to him. Cotton took another drink.
While Cotton sat on the bed, gazing at the bottle, Mindy went and got a towel and started to wash his prick. Although she was very gentle when she wiped his dick, she could feel it jumping and hardening beneath the towel. She hoped that the minister didn't notice what was happening to him. She was eager to get rid of him. By the time she pulled the towel away, it was almost hard, but he didn't look at her at all. He just kept staring at the bottle. Mindy might have safely gotten rid of him if Sharron and Peggy hadn't picked this moment to come barging in.
"Christ Almighty! Whores!" Cotton cried in amazement. "Sluts!" he thundered, gesturing at them with the bottle. His cock was gesturing, too. The last blood had pumped into it and once again it was stiff as an iron rod. '
"A motherfucking minister!" Peggy squealed in amazement. "Sorry I didn't bring my Bible, Preacher," she teased. "But maybe we can help you lick your problem anyway," she suggested, eyeing the minister's fat dong. "What about it, Sharron? Ever eat a minister's meat?" Both whores grinned.
"God will punish you!" Cotton yelled at them but he was already lying back on the bed. Mindy was looking from the minister to her sister whores, trying to warn them with her eyes. They didn't know what they were getting into. And maybe they didn't care. They had just come from the basement and Peggy was still wearing the high black boots which came to the middle of her thighs and accentuated the dark cunt what they had been doing she had to clean up. But now she was ready for another round, any way the preacher wanted it. And Mindy, Mindy was new here. She still was all hung up. They could go for Mindy a little, too. A hot tongue up her twat would be good for her.
Although Cotton continued to protest the presence of these wanton sluts, he lay back on the bed, knowing just what they would do to him. "Hang your ass in his face," Peggy told Mindy as she unbuttoned the short leather vest which had been hiding her generous tits. Mindy climbed over the minister and planted her cunt in his face. It tickled for only a moment before the preacher's tongue pushed through the muff and lapped at her clit. Mindy looked down at Cotton's cock. Did they want her to suck it again? Maybe they didn't know how much spunk was pent up in those tight balls. "We'll do that," Sharron told her. "You just relax."
Sharron got on one side of him and Peggy got on the other, they grinned at each other and at the swollen prong, red now from behind rubbed so much. Their heads came together and they stopped for a moment and kissed. Mindy watched them. It wasn't the first time since she had been at Lydia's that she had seen girls doing it with each other but it always bothered her. And it made her a little jumpy. She wished that they would just stick to business. But then they were breaking apart and grabbing the minister's prick.
They licked together, Sharron on one side and Peggy on the other. They licked it so the shaft glistened with their spit. They licked it so that when they licked around the sides, their tongues came together and the tips touched. Their tits rested lightly against Cotton's pants. They rubbed them back and forth a little so the nipples hardened as they were stimulated by the clerical cloth. Mindy continued to watch them. She couldn't help being turned on by what she saw, or by the minister's tongue between her legs. He was a really good cuntlapper. She had to grant him that.
Mindy jumped a little when she felt his tongue flick against her asshole. She wanted to say something, maybe he didn't know what he was doing, but she felt a little embarrassed. After all, she was the one who was supposed to be a whore and a professional cunt for sale, but this fucking guy was really giving her the works. She was glad that Peggy and Sharron couldn't see what was happening back there.
She realized now that the minister was doing it deliberately. Although she wished that he would go back on her cunt-he had made it feel so good! There was a certain fascination in having her asshole licked by a man. He ran his tongue up and down the crack between the cheeks of her ass and then flicked lightly at her rectum. But his light flicks became harder. His tongue poked against her hole. Mindy found herself tightening up her muscles in her backside. It felt so. . . delicious!
She wanted him to go on. He was making her so sensitive back there that she almost wanted to reach back there and touch herself with her hand. If the two of them had been alone she might have done it. But she remembered how Lydia had told him to never give a customer more than he paid for. She was afraid to break the rule even though Peggy and Sharron were really going at it now. She watched them nervously.
The two girls were trading off now. First one put his bone in her mouth and then she passed his prick to the other. Peggy was sucking him deep inside her mouth. Mindy pushed down closer to watch. Her tits were brushing against Cotton's belly. It felt so nice. Then Sharron was grabbing her. Sharron was kissing her on the lips. Mindy surrendered, even though she hadn't meant to. It was funny to kiss a girl. She had never realized that it could be so groovy, especially when a guy had his tongue in your asshole. She had done it before when one of the girls made her, but she had felt uneasy about it. Today she was forgetting her hangups. She started to kiss Sharron back.
"Hey, let me have her," Peggy complained. She passed the stiff prick to Sharron and held Mindy's head lightly. The two women kissed as the third bobbed her head up and down on the minister's prick. Mindy could feel her ass being opened up. He had placed his hands on her cheeks now and was spreading them apart. It felt almost as if she was a little girl and a doctor was examining her. She tried to relax and feel the deliciously forbidden joy. Peggy was running her tongue into her mouth. Mindy let it happen. Peggy slipped her hands under Mindy's gorgeous knobs and Mindy sucked in a deep breath. Her tits were quivering. She felt like jelly. If all three of them wanted to stick their tongues up her ass, she wouldn't have cared. If the minister had told her to lick his asshole, she would have done it. Right now she would have done anything to keep the wonderful feeling.
"Want to make him come?" Sharron asked Peggy. Peggy nodded her head. She gave Mindy a knowing wink. Sharron clasped Mindy's head and the two women drew together. Peggy took Cotton's prick in her mouth. She wondered how fast she could make it happen. Her fist closed around his horny prick. She jerked at it, holding the head between her lips. She knew this was cheating but that fucking minister looked like he would never come. Of course, Mindy hadn't told her that he had made it twice already. Peggy frigged frantically, waiting to see if his cock would start to twitch. Then his hips were rising and she knew he was getting there. Jealously, she looked at Mindy and Sharron, kissing alongside her. Mindy had such lovely tits. Someday she would have Mindy in her room and they would rub their bodies together until their tits tingled and their cunts slobbered with cream. That would be delightful, but right now there was this fucking minister. . .
Peggy could feel it coming. She could almost sense the spunk rising from his balls. But he was still holding back on her. He seemed to have something else on his mind. "Turn around!" he suddenly cried to Mindy. The girl turned her head and looked at him, amazed. "Put it up your ass!" the minister hollered. Sharron and Peggy nodded their heads. They knew that Mindy hadn't done this kind of stuff before. Or if she had, she'd been too ashamed to admit it.
"Come on, kid, turn around," Sharron urged. "Remember, the customer's always right."
Mindy tried to fight them, she tried to stall. But even though the minister lay passive beneath her, the two whores were grabbing her and turning her around. They seemed as eager as he did to have her undergo this humiliation: As Mindy turned around, the minister grabbed at her tits. He kneaded and squeezed at them as Mindy planted her pert bottom over his loins. Sharron grabbed Cotton's cock and held it stiff. Peggy guided Mindy down on top of it. The two bodies came together but Mindy was too tight. His prick bounced off the tight brown eye. Peggy cursed and poked and tried to pull Cotton's joint up and at it. But it wouldn't go. Sharron had to maneuver the girl. They tried to work together. Mindy's ass was still bathed in saliva. It would have gone in easy if she hadn't been so tense.
They tried it once more and this time it went better. This time Mindy was less nervous and Sharron guided her better. Sharron helped to stretch the hole apart. Peggy pulled at the minister's prick and shoved it into the hole. The head slipped in as Mindy bit her lip. She hadn't realized that it would be so tight. She wanted to cry out but something stopped her. It was the curiously sensitive feeling as her body opened up. She felt the minister pushing inside her. And then something hot and wet was shooting up her bowels. Cotton Salter had come. Peggy's grip on his prick had been too tight. But nobody cared now, things were working out just right. Mindy closed her eyes and felt the faraway feeling. Sharron was stroking her ass. Peggy's fist was still wrapped around the minister's cock, frigging and squeezing and making his load pump up Mindy's shithole. They were all touching her. The minister was still holding her tits.
"Ohh!" Mindy cried, feeling the first trembling of an orgasm. Whores weren't supposed to feel things like that.
Peggy and Sharron continued to stroke her body as Mindy came off. They were pleased with what they had done, even though the minister's prick had slipped out of, her asshole and was now spurting come down the leg of his black trousers. He didn't seem to mind. By morning, when it was time for him to leave it would be dry. Peggy nodded to Sharron. Both girls turned to Mindy, who was still far, far away. "We've got to get back to work," they giggled, getting up from the bed. Peggy wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. She buttoned up her leather vest. Neither Mindy nor Cotton heard them slip out of the room.
Mindy struggled to get her breath. She still couldn't talk as she zipped up the minister's fly. This time she didn't stop to wipe off his prick, even though it had just been up her ass. She was afraid of what a little friction might do to it. She didn't want him to get started again. Finally she got control of herself. "Lydia wants to see you," she explained. She was eager as hell to get rid of him. He made her very nervous as she couldn't be sure what he was going to do next. She didn't even bother to straighten out her robe as she led him down the stairs. Lydia was waiting for them in her private office.
"It's been a long time, Cotton," Lydia noted as he sat down on the sofa beside her. "Did Mindy get you straightened out?" Cotton looked at her blankly.
He didn't know what she was talking about. He had been in a trance the whole time he was upstairs and only now was he beginning to regain his balance. With Lydia everything was all right. Again he reached into his pocket and pulled out the notes he had made. He held them out to her and this time Lydia took them. "What's this, Cotton? Plans for a new church?"
Lydia unfolded the paper and saw the drawing. There was a rough sketch of a girl, just an outline, but more detailed drawings close to her hands and ankles showed the dimensions for the shackles and chains. Lydia understood right away. Cotton had a plan. "Who's the lucky girl, Cotton?"
"In the church," Cotton explained. "She's there every Sunday. Who the fuck knows her name? Her old lady's some dried-up bat. But this cunt's cherry. Christ, Lydia, what the hell did they expect when they sent me to Martinsville?" he asked accusingly. "I've got to have something at night."
"Cotton, Cotton, you know you can always come here," she offered. "But the girl," she added thoughtfully. "You say she's cherry?" Cotton nodded his head. "You know. . . We don't get much stuff like that around here. And there's a demand. In fact, I've got this one guy. . . Cotton? Do you really give a shit who pops her? Are you really hot to be first?"
"Shit, Lydia, what the fuck do I care? The kid's cherry, but even if she wasn't it would all be the same. She's going to be a tasty little bit, oh ain't that the truth! But rust, last or otherwise, who gives a shit?"
"That's what I thought you'd say, Cotton. Well, it just so happens that I have a customer who does give a shit. In fact, he gives so much of a shit that he'll pay for the honor. What do you think about that, Cotton? How would you like a few hundred to buy new candles fur the church? But you're sure she's cherry?" Cotton nodded his head. "Then do me a favor. I'll get all this shit you want. I'll send the towel boy, first thing in the morning. But promise me this. Do what you want to the girl, do anything at all. Only don't stick your dick in her cunt . . . Not until I've had a look at her. How's that, Cotton? A deal? There'll be plenty in it for both of us, that's a promise, and then you can have her back. How's it sound?"
"I'd never refuse you, Lydia," Cotton told her truthfully. "You've been like a mother to me. But the chains?"
"I'll take care of that. Now come and show me how you treat your mother, you little motherfucker. That skinny kid Mindy didn't wear you out, did she? You only gave her one little thump, didn't you?" Cotton nodded his head. He didn't really remember. But now he was with Lydia and he began to undress. He took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. Lydia slipped out, to tell the girls to leave her alone for the night. Cotton took off his pants. His prick was limp but Lydia would make it hard again. With Lydia he could go all night. He tossed his shirt over the pants and sat back on the couch, waiting for Lydia and thinking of the little blonde cunt, the cunt that would soon be his.
Only after the chains were installed in the damp and musty basement room did Cotton even bother to find out what the girl's name was. It hardly mattered to him. If he could control her body he would be quite content to call her the first name that came to his mind. But knowing her real name would make it easier. After all, he still had to grab her. And in a small town like Martinsville that would make one hell of a fuss.
He learned that her name was Jane Hartley and she was eighteen. Her father was the owner of the largest corporation in town. It was a dinky-shit little outfit but Hartley was a cold-hearted prick who squeezed blood out of his workers and paid them no more than the state required. Even his executives worked for peanuts, but Hartley's factory was the only game in town. If they didn't like it they could pack up their marbles and get the hell out. A few of the younger ones did. The ones who stayed learned to take orders.
Her mother wasn't much different, than the other dried prunes who hung around the church, waiting to kick off and go meet their Maker. She wasn't particularly ugly. She might even have been good-looking at one time, but a tight, dry cunt had aged her and wrinkled her skin. Even the first time Cotton had seen Joe Hartley in church with his daughter, he had known that Joe played around. He probably had some little secretary at the office who fucked him regularly. Cotton laughed to think about it. A dumb bastard like Joe Hartley would probably be satisfied with screwing some pimply little girl who thought she had been hired to take steno. Christ, Hartley probably never even noticed what a piece of ass his daughter was. Probably he would die before he would stick his dick in that cunt.
The knowledge that Joe Hartley was such a big shot in town gave Cotton a particular delight when he thought about what he was going to do. Joe was the kind of dopey guy who thought he could screw around all he wanted but would shit a brick if he caught his daughter getting laid. Well, Jane Hartley was going to get laid and he almost wished that Joe could be there to see it. Christ, would that be a delight! To have that dumb gorilla sitting there watching while he made the girl suck his cock.
But that was only dreaming. And what was going to happen would be good enough. They would be alone, but it would be good. It would be something he would remember for the rest of his life. And it had to be soon. Thinking about it was getting him jumpy in the pulpit.
When the Reverend Cotton Salter walked into the assembly hall and saw Jane standing there all alone, he could hardly believe his eyes. For two solid weeks he had been thinking how he could get her alone someplace without anyone knowing. He knew that she would have met him anyplace that he asked. Only she was so dumb that she would have told somebody where she was going. He couldn't take that chance. Nor could he simply drive by her on the street and offer her a ride. Too many people noticed things like that. But here in the church! It was the perfect place. He looked at his watch and saw that the goddamn music director was probably still at home fucking his wife. That was the only way he could concentrate, working with young girls. Shit, what a horny fuck that Pollock was. He'd stick his dick in a pig if nobody was watching. But today that would be all right. Today Cotton knew just how to handle it.
Silently he passed the door of the assembly hall and found the telephone. He dialed Pollock's number and waited for a long while before a woman's voice answered. He had been right about what Pollock was doing. He could tell from the shyness in the woman's voice. Quickly he told her that there was some problem with the radiator and Mr. Pollock could be about fifteen minutes late today to get set up. The woman thanked him for calling and hurried back to her old man. Cotton smiled. Now everything would be perfect.
He went in to greet her. She was always the first to practice. She was such a goddamn little goody-goody, even if she didn't know it. Most of those other sluts showed up late, with bubblegum in their mouths and lipstick which they weren't supposed to be wearing in church. He wondered if it would be any fun to plug a couple of them sometime, just before he left Martinsville perhaps, but he might as well start at the top. There was no girl in town with tits like Jane Hartley's.
He could see that she was nervous when he approached her. He knew he had all these bitches scared. She was shitting in her pants when he asked her into his office. That gave him a laugh. He felt like pinching her ass right there in the assembly hall. He wondered what she would do it he tried it. She would probably just pretend that she didn't notice. He could walk in with his dick swinging and she'd probably pretend that she didn't notice.
Inside the office he sat down beside her. He wanted to touch her body. He knew it would bug the shit out of her and perhaps that was why he was so eager. When he brought his hand down on her knee, she flinched, but she didn't pull away. Cotton felt his prick getting hard. Just touching her made him want to fuck.
"Wait here," the minister commanded, getting up from where he was sitting. She heard the door open behind her but she was too scared to dare to move.
Cotton stepped out in the hallway and quickly made sure that no one had come in yet. He looked out the back window at the churchyard. It too was empty. Quickly he returned to the office. She was still sitting where he had left her. She didn't look up as he opened the locker along the wall. She turned her head and sniffed slightly as he poured the chloroform into the thick wad of cotton. He replaced the bottle on the shelf and quickly stepped behind, her. In an instant the wad was over her face. He held her while she struggled against him. She was breathing rapidly, sucking the chloroform into her lungs. She quickly grew weak. Her body slumped in the chair but he still held fast to her. There couldn't be any slip-up. It was too important. He waited until he was sure that she was out. Then he picked her up in his arms.
He carried her down the hall to the back door. Her body was completely limp and for a moment he thought that she might be dead. Then he felt her heart beat. A smile crossed his face. She was a perfect specimen-at least for now. He tried to imagine what she would look like after a few days in the cellar-or a few weeks. She was so beautiful that he could not bear the thought of sharing her, not even with the dog. He kicked the back door open and cursed under his breath as he stubbed his toe. He adjusted his arms under her and started across the yard. He walked as fast as he was able. He had to get her inside.
He stopped at the door of the basement but found that he couldn't reach into his pocket to get the key out without putting her down. He laid her gently on the cold stone, fearing for a moment that it might revive her. He opened the door and remembered that the flashlight was in the house. He didn't have time to get it. He had to get her out of sight. He quickly picked her up again and carried her over the threshold. She was his perfect bride. She was his now, to use as he would. In the darkness he carried her down the corridor, feeling his way with his foot. He reached the inner door and again had to put her down while he fumbled in the darkness to unlock it. It swung open and he carried her inside. He left her in the middle of the floor while he went to get a candle.
The dog was at the door when he went to close it. The dumb beast darted inside before he could stop him. Cotton was afraid that he would bark before he got the door closed, but the animal just whimpered. Cotton closed the door and struck a match. He lit one of the candles and hurried back to the inner room. He held the candle over her and saw that her eyes were still closed. He set the candle on the cabinet and picked her up under the armpits. Getting her up against the wall was awkward. She was dead weight.
He had to kick the dog to get him out of the way while he hoisted her up to the first shackle. He got her hand up to it but each time he held her arm at the right grip to go into the shackle, the shackle slipped away from him. He cursed the awkward arrangement and swore that once he got her into it he would never let her go. The blacksmith had made the wristbands too damn tight and he had to force her hands into them. He got the first one on and quickly snapped it shut and locked it. Her weight slipped out of his hand and her body slumped to the floor. Her arm pulled taut and was held by the chain. Her head fell limply forward in front of his crotch.
He felt like shoving his prick between her sleeping lips but he decided to wait. He took her other arm and again forced her weight onto her feet. The second arm was even more awkward than the first and he had set the shackles too far apart. Her body was stretched apart as he finally chained down her other hand. He stood back and looked at her. She was such a glorious sight. Her long blonde hair fell down over her bosom and even in the darkness he could see the perfect form of her arms and legs. He rubbed his cock as he looked at her. He hardly knew where to begin.
The dog had less difficulty deciding. There was only one part of her body which interested him. Cotton was still fingering his prick when the hound strained forward. He jumped up on her and pawed at her dress. Cotton watched his claws catch in the delicate material and pull it apart in shreds. Her slip was ripped to the floor, exposing the creamy whiteness of her inner thighs. The dog whimpered and sniffed her crotch. Cotton pulled him away. The dog could have her later. The master came first. He grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled him to the door where he had left a leash. He picked the burning candle off the cabinet and decided that he might as well get his flashlight while he was at it. She wasn't going anywhere. Not with those chains around her hands and feet. Cotton looked back at her and smiled. She was going to be a real treat.
Chapter 2
Slowly her eyes opened. Jane Hartley peered into the darkness. Her arms ached. Gradually she realized that it was because they were bound to the cold stone wall behind her. They were stretched out straight from her body and it took all of her strength to lift them even an inch. Exhausted .by the effort, she let them drop again until they were stopped by the steel shackles around her wrists. She could hear the clanking of the chain as it hit the hard wall. She could not tell whether her legs were also chained to the wall. Tight shackles were fastened to her ankles and when she tried to spread her legs she found that she could not move them more than ten inches apart. Desperately she strained against her bonds but she was already to weak, too helpless. Her head sank back against her shoulder.
Far away a match was being struck. In the darkness she could see a figure dressed in black. He was lighting a candle and carrying it toward her. He stopped in front of a heavy cabinet and dripped wax on top of it. With his back toward her, he set the bottom of the candle in the wax and held it until it was ready. There was a mirror over the cabinet and in the flickering candlelight she could finally see herself. The sight shocked her. She had been too stunned to notice how he had already violated her.
She had been wearing her new dress, a pretty print with blue and yellow flowers on a red background. With her blonde hair hanging down over her shoulders, the colors were perfect on her. But the dress had been ripped. The left sleeve had been torn completely off and the bodice had been torn away from her breast, exposing the thin white slip beneath it. Around her waist the dress was shredded, as if an animal had clawed it, and even the slip was torn apart to reveal her pale-white thighs. The slip was ripped almost all the way up to her panties, leaving her frightfully vulnerable. And one of the shoulder straps of the slip had been broken too. Her smooth white bra was partly exposed.
The man had lit another candle and placed it on the cabinet at the other side of the mirror. As he stepped away from it Jane could see that there was a small silver cross between the two candles. The cross couldn't help but remind her of the position which she was in. But there wasn't time to think about it now. The man was opening a door again and another shape was entering the dim room. Jane saw that it was only a dog and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had always felt good around animals and they had always seemed to like her. She forgot about the dog and looked back at the man. He seemed so familiar but she couldn't place him. And these stones, the stones which now formed her prison. There was something familiar about them too. There were not very many stone buildings in Martinsville, not ones which had mammoth stones like these. But the man had turned his back to her again. He was reaching for something: With a gasp, Jane realized that he was taking off his pants!
He lowered them slowly. They were so loose that they were able to slip over his heavy black boots. He hung them on a hook which June had not seen on the wall. He was taking his underpants off, too. Jane could see the backs of his hairy legs and his hard buttocks. She had never seen a mature man naked before and she found the sight upsetting. But now he was turning to her. He was holding something in his hand. It was a long and erect penis. Curly black hair swirled around it. Two heavy balls hung in their wrinkled bag below. He was waving it at her, trying to show it to her. It was so long that it stood high above the dangling shirttails. Its purple head pointed high to the man's neck. Jane did not bother to look at the man's face. The stiff white collar around his neck said enough. The man who held her prisoner was a minister. She had been looking at Cotton Salter's prick!
The minister staggered toward her with his prick in his hand. It was always this way for Cotton when he was with a new girl. Something inside of him became unhinged. His prick grew hard and his mouth went dry. The girl cried out as he approached her but he hardly heard. His eyes were fixed on the immaculate whiteness of her bra. He had to touch it. He had to feel her body.
Jane screamed as his hands covered her breasts. She felt the stiff prick press against her naked thigh. It butted into her leg, but when she pulled back from him the cold stone of the wall stopped her. She couldn't get away from it. And it was so close to . . . She couldn't bear to think of it! He was almost in her crotch!
But Cotton was not looking at the smooth white legs, half revealed by the torn slip. Instead he was concerned only with the creamy globes which were hiding beneath the smooth bra. His hands covered the cups and Jane cringed as he ground her body. Even with the stiff cotton protecting her she could feel the heat of his body. She sensed that her nipples were becoming erect. She wondered why that was happening. Usually that only happened when her imagination got a little carried away.
Cotton pawed at the bra without trying to remove it. She was such a sight! And so helpless. He could take her at his leisure. There was no need to rush. Yet, her body aroused him to a terrible lust. He could feel it gripping him. He knew he was losing control. His hands ground harder and harder into her bosom. He was wearing it away with the friction. His prick pressed harder and harder against her leg. He needed her so badly! He had to take just a little peek at her tits. He dropped his prick and grabbed the right cup of her bra with both hands. As if he was trying to chin himself, he pulled down-on it with all his might.
Jane snapped her eyes closed tight as she felt her breast pop free of her bra. She couldn't bear to face the minister's lust. His eyes frightened her. She had never seen a man like this. There was something terrible in his face, something very dangerous. She felt both of his hands cup around her bosom as though he was holding a crystal ball. Then she felt a wetness on her nipple. It could only be his mouth. He was kissing and sucking and nipping at her nipple. She wished that it wouldn't make her body feel so aroused. She pressed her head into her shoulder. She was so ashamed of herself.
Cotton had not noticed the confusion on the young girl's face. He had been too busy playing with her tit. It was gorgeous. So young and firm and ripe! The upper line sloped down gently from a point high on her chest. Just before the curve met her nipple it seemed to turn upward again. And the lower line curved up to meet it. Her nipple stood out proud and firm where the two lines met. He cupped it in both hands and twisted them around it as if he was trying to unscrew it from her body. His teeth locked on her nipple and he bit into her until he could see the brief pain shoot across her face. His teeth loosened and he licked the soreness. Then he twisted it again in his hands.
His cock was aching him and Cotton shoved his body against hers. His prick sprang between her stretched legs and bounced up under her slip. He drove his hips into her body and felt the soft spot at the end of his cock. The head of his prick had jammed up tight against one of her cunt lips. He ground his hips in a circle. The girl moaned. She was feeling it, too. She had to be. Yet her eyes were shut tight and there was a taut grimace on her face. She didn't know how badly she needed it. It was all so new to her. "Look at it" Cotton suddenly demanded, stepping back from her body and grabbing his prick in his hand. The girl opened her eyes but immediately closed them again. The sight seemed to shock her horrible. Cotton sneered at her fear. He would teach her to look at it. He would teach her to love it. Any way she could get it. Even if she had to crawl.
Well, there was one way he could start, even if she wouldn't look. He would do something to her that would open her eyes. Cotton trembled as he moved in front of her. He could hear her uneven breath. His hands dropped to her legs. He felt the smoothness of her inner thighs. Slowly he let his hand travel upward. Right between her legs. Her slip caught on his wrists and came up with his hands. "Oh, no, please don't do that!" she cried in terror. "Anything but that!" she begged. But his mind was made up. He would not bargain with her. He would take her on his terms. And she would thank him for it.
He fell to his knees in front of her. All those years of clerical training had their effect. For a moment his eyes feasted on the object he was about to enjoy, the bushy muff covered only by her dainty panties. But first he had to give thanks. He folded his hands and started to pray. Quickly he thanked God for what he was about to receive.
Quickly he said "amen". He was too impatient to say any more. He reached up under her slip and found the narrow elastic waistband of her panties. His fingers trembled as he seized it and pulled down. It was awkward with her legs spread at such a wide angle. He had to hold the elastic down with both hands.
His tongue grew dry as he tried to wet his lips. Her slip fell back down and covered her muff. He dropped her panties and pulled the slip apart. With a sharp rip it opened to her waist. He grabbed the panties again and again revealed her bushy twat. Her hair was fine and golden, just as he had imagined it. Without hesitation he pressed his lips into it. His tongue licked everywhere and a hair caught in his mouth. He didn't bother to pull it out. He was too hungry for pussy. He poked his tongue out and held it stiff. He poked it between the soft pussylips. He was eating virgin cunt and the thought alone stiffened his bone. He licked away the hair until he could see the little hood which covered her clit. He licked quickly on it and watched the little nub harden and stand out, a pink dot against the soft brown skin. He licked once more and looked up at her face. Could she feel anything? Perhaps his hand would be better.
Cotton squatted back on his heels and dug his middle finger into her cunt. He looked up and watched her face for the slightest sign. He moved the finger quickly. Her eyes were still closed tight. She was doing everything in her power to resist him. He knew that perfectly well. But her clit was swollen, her virgin clit. And his finger was aggravating the hell out of it. The friction alone should do the trick. Cotton wiggled the finger faster and faster. Nothing happened to the girl. Angry at his failure, he again seized her panties with his hand. Again he pulled them away and buried his head between her legs. This time his tongue was dripping saliva as he shoved it into her body. This time he was angry and he poked it down to the opening of her fuckhole. The tongue washed out her whole hairy split. The tongue washed up and down, carefully covering her clit on each long stroke. He was about to give up and shove his finger in her box when he finally heard it. It was only a faint little gasp. Yet that little gasp proved his success and suggested the greater rewards that lay ahead.
There were no words to describe the deep humiliation which Jane felt as the pent-up anguish finally burst from her lungs, despite her every effort to contain it.
The girl's tiny gasp was what Cotton had waited for. He knew now that she was receptive. He had shamed her and forced her to feel it. And now he could make her feel more. Without letting go of her panties, he rose from his knees. He grabbed his prick in one hand and shoved it against her naked belly. She cried out again and for a moment he thought of smacking her face. But the cries of her torment delighted him. They were music to his ears. He stabbed at her fiat tummy with the blunt head of his cock. Each small jab made her cry out in horror. His jabs kept getting lower, until he was poking into her pubic muff. Her cries became more frantic. She really was a virgin. There was no doubt about it now. Only a virgin would be so scared of such a nice, fat prick.
The head of his cock split her cunt lips open. Again he found her clit and rubbed the cock back and forth over it. Her cries became fainter. A little jiggle on the clit always shut up a dopey broad. She would shut up when he thumped her, too. His prick dipped lower in her twat. He began to imagine the hot juices inside. In another moment he would be dipping into them, just as soon as he got one little obstacle out of the way. He centered his cock on her hole. He poked forward slightly. He felt her muscles tighten as her taut hymen blocked his way. Suddenly he remembered Lydia.
He would not have stopped for anyone else. God himself could shit bricks down on him and he would have told God to get fucked, but Lydia was like a mother to him. Cotton drew back. Jane opened her eyes and looked at him. He saw that the dumb bitch thought she'd been saved by a miracle. He wondered if she'd think that same thing by the end of the week. Or even by the end of the day. His prick was still hard and he had to get rid of the bone. He remembered what Lydia had told him. He could do anything he wanted, just so he didn't stick his prick up the girl's cunt. Well, that still left him a few tricks. He wondered how she would like them.
He had left his keys in his pocket and now he staggered back across the room to find them. He remembered that he had left a half empty bottle in the cabinet, on top of some old clerical robes and the old tinny collection plates that they'd used in the church before the girl's mother had donated a sterling set. He pulled open the door of the cabinet and found the bottle. He pulled the cork and took a quick sip. It helped to calm him and he went for the keys.
It was a bitch of a job to get her hands undone and she kept squirming all the time. The stupid bitch thought that he was going to release her and he decided that he would let her go on thinking it for another moment. She was actually cooperating with him now, trying to hold steady so that he could get the shackles off her wrists. She even tried not to cry out loud when he pinched her flesh between the hard metal. He finished her right hand and let the steel shackles clank down against the wall. She tried to shake out some of the stiffness as he struggled with her left hand. Then it, too, was free and only the strong chains which ran from one ankle to the other held her. She looked down at them, thinking that he would now undo them too. She was such a trusting fool! And such a piece of ass!
She looked so pleading with her big blue eyes that it gave Cotton special pleasure when he grabbed her neck abruptly and hauled her down to her knees. She was so surprised. Probably she had already thanked God for his mercy. Now she could thank God for the chance to suck a minister's prick. She fell on her knees with her head back, her eyes begging for mercy. But the only mercy he would show her was eight inches of sanctified gristle. He shoved his joint in her face and she quickly pulled her head away. "What's the matter?" he muttered. "Rather have it between your legs?" She didn't answer him and he grabbed her by the hair. He jerked her head up and although she tried to close her eyes, he pulled on her hair until they opened. His prick slapped against her cheek. "Look at it, damnit!" he cried. "God sent you His love! Now kiss it!" he demanded. The girl shook her head.
"NO!" she screamed hysterically. He could tell she was losing control. He had to struggle to hold her. Even though her limbs were still stiff from hanging on the wall, she was fighting desperately to escape him. Her fists reached up and beat against his naked legs. Her punches narrowly missed his balls and Cotton panicked and gave her a slap which sent her reeling. She landed on her face and lay stunned for a moment. He stepped over her and she revived. His hand grabbed her dress at the back of the neck. She felt it and tried to crawl away. But her legs were hobbled by the chains. And there was no place she could go. The door of the room was locked and she could only crawl in circles, dragging the chains behind her until they tired her out. She seemed to sense her predicament but a strong survival instinct drove her on. Even with Cotton sitting on her back, she struggled to crawl away.
Had his own lust been less urgent, Cotton would have let her tire herself out. But he couldn't wait now to get her soft lips around his hard cock. He stepped in front of her to block her escape. She turned and tried to crawl around him but Cotton moved again, keeping one step ahead of her. Then, grabbing her under the armpits, he jerked her back up to her knees. "Suck it, goddamnit! Suck my load!" he cried. The urgency of his need scared her but she could not do it. He grabbed her hair in one hand and held his prick in the other. Her hands beat against him as he pressed his cock to her lips.
But Jane was not simply a prude, she was a determined young woman. She could not ignore the stout prick which was battering at her lip, but she would never do what the minister was asking. Never in a million years. She would die before she did something like that! She vowed that she would. Her fingers turned to claws as she struggled against his hairy thighs. Her hair was hurting where he was pulling it but the pain was not enough to make her give in. She could stand it. She could stand a lot of pain before she would submit. Cotton sensed her determination and waved his prick frantically.
His fingers dug into her jaws and tried to pry them open. He was pulling her gums apart but he couldn't unlock her tight jaws. His prick was aching the shit out of him. He had to get that bone off. He begged and pleaded and forced and beat her but he couldn't get her lips to part. Suddenly it happened. His body couldn't wait. His prick let go and flung its hot load across her cheek. Come gushed out and splattered against her face. Her mouth suddenly opened in amazement. Cotton was just in time to direct the last spurt inside it. Her jaw clamped shut again and she made an expression of disgust. He waved his prick up and down In front of her. The last drops of his load flew off into her hair.
Cotton stood back and looked at her. The girl had collapsed to her knees. He could see she was crying. He could see her bitter shame. His load was glistening across her face and she didn't think to wipe it off with her hand. Perhaps she thought it a fitting remembrance of her humiliation. Cotton watched his prick sagging.
He had to get her back again, while he still had the strength. He had failed with his intention, but he would try again. Meanwhile she couldn't be allowed the freedom, not even the tiniest bit. Frantic, he caught hold of her arm. He panicked at the thought that he might not be able to chain her again. It had taken such effort while she had been unconscious, but now she was wide-awake. He dragged her off her knees, cursing the weight of her trim body. Desperately he dragged her back to the wall and struggled to get her arms into the shackles.
In all truth, she could have stopped him. With his wad shot, his strength was drained. But the hot load which had splattered against her rosy cheek had done something to Jane Hartley. It had snapped her resistance. After what she had felt at the touch of his finger, Jane couldn't help feeling that she was bringing this all upon herself. As she knelt on the ground before him, she did not even think of escape. Her eyes were flooded with tears. The thought that she had not fully resisted him burned away at her. Now perhaps the punishment was only right. As he dragged her back against the wall, her body was limp. She stood without moving as he chained first her right hand and then her left. She felt her legs again being spread beneath her and suddenly realized what was happening. But it was too late. She had already submitted. And now she was again a helpless prisoner. And he was free to do what he wanted.
But the first thing that Cotton wanted now was another drink. He groped his way back to the cabinet and found the bottle. As he staggered drunkenly in the dimly lit room, he stepped on something and heard a yelp of pain. It was the dog's tail. He had forgotten about the dog. The beast had been watching patiently, biding his time. Well, he had promised Lydia he wouldn't fuck her. And her damn jaw was so tight. Maybe the dog would have better luck. He reached down and found the snap which held the leash to his collar. He unfastened it, freeing the animal. The dog sprang forward. The girl reeled back. Cotton picked up the bottle and took another drink.
He watched the hound poke its long nose between the girl's legs, and the look of surprise on her face that the unexpected attack brought. He couldn't help grinning a little. The dog was poking his head between her legs, sniffing at the crotch of her panties. He could see how embarrassed she was by the dog's interest. She had never had an animal lover. The dog barked at her, as if asking her to pull down her drawers. His paw rose to her panties and scratched at them. The strong nylon would not yield but Cotton could see the girl's panic. "Down, boy!" he called to the dog. To him it had no name. He would have stayed to watch her but he needed a drink and his bottle was empty. He didn't dare leave her alone with the beast. There was no sense in letting her get spoiled. He grabbed the dog by the collar and again snapped the leash to his collar. Leaving the candles burning, he opened the door. He would be back for her later. She wasn't going away.
Chapter 3
Lust never bothered Joe Hartley. Joe wallowed in it. Every chance he got. Not that he wouldn't have given his wife a quick thump if she had been willing, but Mildred didn't think that sex was dignified. Well, dignified or not, Joe was ready to stick his prick in any cunt that came along, like these kids that were coming out of choir practice now.
He watched them coming out as if the warden had just thrown the prison door open and sprung all the jailbirds. That was the look on their faces. He wondered why the hell they bothered with church.. He knew that they hated it. Probably their parents made them do it. But they had never forced Jane. Why she hung around the church he could never understand. Sometimes he wished that she could be more like the others. He wished she could talk about dating and going out and petting and getting laid. All the things that any healthy girl her age did. Mildred had ruined her with all that talk of God and love.
Joe spotted Debbie Johnson about the same time she spotted him. He leaned over and opened the heavy door of the Cadillac so she could get in. "Hi," he called to her as she said, "Good morning." Her body was small but she was nice and tight once you got inside. He'd been in her a dozen times. She used to work as a carhop down at the Burger Bar and he'd kid her about wanting furburger and a box lunch when he stopped by in the afternoon for a quick snack. Instead of dumping a tray in his lap she had given him that certain smile and he'd asked her what time she got off from work. She wasn't like that twerpy little cunt he kept down at the plant and she didn't mind getting plugged in the front seat of the Caddie. He never bothered to take her to a motel.
"In a hurry?" Joe asked, not sure that she was going to stop. He knew that Jane would stay to help the music director and that asshole minister-Wooly Pepper, or whatever the hell his name was-to put away the hymnbooks. Christ, couldn't she be human for once? It made him want to vomit the way she frowned over this new fucking minister. And the guy wasn't even old yet. How in hell could any man let himself get shut away in a hole like Martinsville when he didn't even have a wife to throw a fast fuck to at night? From what he'd heard about the minister, he was strictly puritan. There had been a few stories going around about that last parson. Not that they were true or anything, but the guy was at least human enough so people could talk about him. But this nut, Holy Joe from the word go. It made him sick to think about it and about the way that Jane ate it all up.
"Waiting for Jane?" Debbie asked, sliding in beside him. Even though she had just come from church she was wearing a short skirt which covered little more than her cunt and a sweater which left nothing to the imagination. Joe couldn't help grabbing a quick feel of her firm round tits. "Hey!" Debbie giggled. "Want June to see us?" Joe lied and told her he didn't give a shit. He adjusted the rear-view mirror so he would see his daughter coming out of church.. He knew he had time to fool around a little but he didn't want to be surprised. Not by Jane.
"How come you didn't come see me last week?" Debbie asked, putting her hand in his lap so that it rested on his cock. "Got another girl?" There was no jealousy in her question, only curiosity. That was one reason why he liked to see her when he got a chance. She never bugged him about his private life.
"Had to work, honey," Joe explained. He knew she wouldn't understand. To Debbie work was joking around at the Burger Bar all afternoon and then leaving on the dot of five. She wouldn't understand that someone who made as much money as he did couldn't do that. "Hey," he said, remembering a story she had told him. "How did it go with that guy you were going out with on Saturday?"
She had to stop and think for a moment to remember who he was talking about. "Oh, him," she said, recalling their last conversation, "He was a creep. He tried to get his hand in my blouse right in the fucking intermission." Joe gathered that they had gone to the drive-in. He asked her if she slapped his face. "No," she admitted candidly. "I let him fuck me, too," she giggled. "I mean, just cause he was a creep, why shouldn't I have my fun?" Joe couldn't argue with her. He wished that Jane would look at it that way. Or at least be a little freer with things. He couldn't bear the thought of his daughter growing up to be such a tight-pussed bitch even if she was pretty and she meant well. That wasn't enough. No man could live on good intentions. He'd tried to explain that to her once but he'd seen how it had all gone right over her head.
"Come on, Joe, give me a little squeeze," Debbie said, getting impatient. After all, they didn't have much time. With his eyes still on the mirror above his head, Joe let his fingers creep up Debbie's leg, underneath her little skirt. He pushed his finger against the crotch of her panties and felt the reassuring softness of her pussylips. He always loved to touch her there. Through her nylon panties he couldn't feel the roughness of her cunt hair. He let his finger push between the little bumps and down into her cunt, pushing her panties down in with the finger. He could run his finger back and forth over the smooth nylon and make her squirm like shit. He liked to do it to her until her crotch was wet with clear fluid. Then he'd slip the crotch of her panties aside and diddle her clit until she came. If they had a little more privacy, he could have gone down on her. She liked that too.
"Oh, that feels so good, Joe," Debbie moaned as he frigged her. She was rubbing her own hand in his lap and his cock was already springing to life. He looked in the rear-view mirror again and glanced at the dashboard clock. He wondered if they would have time before Jane came out. Nervously, he took her hand and placed it on his zipper. He let her slide the zipper down and push her hand inside his fly. He stiffened as she caught his cock. Her hand was always so gentle when she handled it. He wondered how she had ever learned to be so good.
"Want me to pull it off?" Debbie offered. "Got a rubber?" He started to tell her that they'd better not but she was already reaching up under the dashboard to the little ledge where he always kept a few scumbags. She found one and ripped it open.
She put the wrapper in her purse. Joe looked up and down the street to make sure that nobody was coming. He looked in the mirror again. He quickly slipped his prick out of his pants and Debbie rolled the bag over his cock. He shoved his prick back in his pants and she reached in and grabbed him. He lay back on the seat and let her pull on him. At least this way he wouldn't come in his pants. That would be all that Jane would need to see. She'd probably never talk to him again. He didn't want to do anything like that to shake her up. He knew it wasn't right. Jane was a good kid, even though she was a little screwy. Besides, she wasn't too much screwier than his wife.
"Oh, do it to me," Joe told her as Debbie pulled briskly on his prick. He wished they could have gone somewhere and really got it on but Jane would be coming out any minute. He rubbed faster at the crotch of Debbie's panties and felt the dampness beginning to come through and wet his finger. He'd have to remember to wipe it off before Jane got in the car. Even Jane would , know what that smell was, although she'd be too embarrassed to say anything. Debbie pressed her body closer to him and-he could hear her heavy breathing. He moved his finger faster, trying to make her come. It was almost time to go inside that wet box and give her the final jiggle. She was pulling a little too hard 'On his cock, probably because she was so turned on. He looked down at her tits and wished they were naked. The sight of her tiny little nipples always got to him.
Joe slipped his finger under her panties and ran it through the tangle of pubic muff. Quickly he poked it into her snapper, first wetting it in her cream-filled hole, then running it up to her waiting clit. The cream made his finger slide as easily as it had slid on the nylon. He rubbed frantically at her clit. She was pulling in hard jerks at his prong. Joe could feel himself coming. For a moment he thought he was going to wet in his pants. Then he remembered the rubber and relaxed. He let it all happen. His fist gave the final whacks to his meat and his cock shot off. He felt the come pumping out into the scumbag. It felt funny the way it rubbed against his leg. His prick was shrinking but he knew the rubber would contain his load. At least until he got somewhere where he could take the damn thing off. He couldn't very well do it here. He wasn't religious or anything, but even Joe Hartley wouldn't drop a used scumbag in front of the church. He squirmed and zipped up his fly. Debbie was still looking at him. He had almost forgotten her need.
A quick check in the mirror showed him that Jane had not yet emerged from the church. He was too eager to finish Debbie to even notice how late his daughter was. He pulled the crotch of her panties aside and drew her skirt up until he could almost see her cunt. If anyone had been passing by they would have gotten an eyeful but there was luckily nobody on the street. He fit the finger tight to her snatch and diddled away. Debbie lay back on the seat and closed her eyes. Joe took advantage 'Of her position to cop a feel and the sensation that her tits gave him made his prick start to stiffen. Her tits were warm and round and made for a man to touch. And Debbie refused no one. At least nobody who was nice to her. And being nice to Debbie was just a matter of buying her a Coke. She was a very appreciative girl. He admired her generosity.
Debbie's scissored legs told him that she had come. He jabbed at her for a moment longer until she pulled his hand away. Her body stiffened and he drew back. He would let her enjoy it. He always wondered how a woman felt when she came. They acted so damn funny. And they could never get enough. That was why he liked them so much.
Debbie finally recovered herself and adjusted her panties. She blushed her skirt back down and noticed the clock on the dashboard. "Jane's really late today," she noted. "Hey, wait a minute. You know? I don't think that Jane was even there today!"
"No?" Joe asked, certain that Jane had asked him to pick her up after practice. It was very unlike Jane to keep him waiting or not to call him when something came up.
"No," Debbie said positively. "Now I remember. Mr. Pollock was even asking about her-he had a part he wanted her to sing-but nobody knew where she was. And she didn't call up or nothing."
"That's funny," Joe mused. "Maybe. I'd better check in the church." The thought of going into the church was unappealing in any event but with the limp rubber still hanging on his dick, the task was doubly distasteful. Still, it had to be done. He couldn't help being a little worried. Not that Jane couldn't take care of herself or anything, but this was very unusual. "I'd better go talk to the music director," Joe said.
"He'll be gone by now," Debbie noted. "You'll have to talk to Reverend Salter."
"That asshole?" Joe grumbled. He had formed the opinion the first time he had seen the man, even before his daughter had dragged him to church once. Seeing the minister in action only confirmed what he had already felt. What Reverend Salter did in the pulpit was no more than what some of his better salesmen could do when they had a customer cornered. Only his salesmen wrote bigger orders, even though Salter had pulled on a good collection.
"Don't talk about Reverend Salter like that," Debbie scolded in genuine distress. "Reverend Salter is a man of God! People like you and me shouldn't say things like that. God might hear you. Just because we don't believe in all that stuff is no reason to talk bad about the minister. He's not one of those phonies. Reverend Salter has a gift."
Joe would have argued with her but he knew she was sincere. That was the trouble with girls like Debbie. They were good to fuck but they would trust anyone. Christ, the sight of her was making him horny all over again.
"Hey, Debbie. . . " Joe said. "Think maybe we got time..." He wondered if he should try to find out where Jane was first. Christ, he'd have to go into the church and then the minister would see that he had a hard on. And that god damn little twat was getting him all worked up again.
"Want to go ball, Joe?" Debbie asked gently. From the way that she said it, he could tell that she wanted it too. "We can't go down by the river today. All the kids will be there and it's daylight."
"We'll go to the Quick Stop," Joe told her dryly. It was a truckers' cafe with a few cabins out in back. On a Saturday night the beds in them never got cool. He could see that Debbie had been there before. She brushed her skirt down and waited for him to start the car.
Joe took one last look in the rear-view mirror. Jane still wasn't there. It seemed so strange that she wasn't. He was getting so jumpy that he could hardly drive. He knew he was speeding but he couldn't help it. None of the cops in town would say anything. Not to Joe Hartley. Except maybe "Good morning." As they pulled away from the church, Debbie slipped closer to his side. Joe wondered what his wife would think if she could see him now. Or his daughter. Jane would really die. Maybe someday some guy would get in her pants and straighten her out a little. God knows, she needed it. Joe slowed for the red light and then went through it without stopping. He was hot to get laid.
Debbie waited in the car while Joe got the key to their cabin. They drove on back to it and Joe gave her leg a little squeeze. In a few more moments he would be between those legs. Christ, he couldn't wait. He helped her out of the car and managed to catch another glimpse of her panties as her skirt rose up. She smiled coyly at him and brushed it down again. Inside his pants his prick was getting hard. It felt damned uncomfortable to have the scum-filled rubber still hanging from his dick.
Joe unlocked the door and stepped into the room ahead of her. It had a musty smell to it but that didn't matter. He switched on the light but the room stayed dim. The small overhead bulb had never been intended to show off too much. Debbie closed the door behind her and locked it. Without waiting for her lover, she grasped the hem of her sweater and drew it over her head. Joe turned to look at her. Her tits swelled out against the black brassiere. "Come here," he told her. She stepped in front of him. He reached behind her back and seized the straps. In a moment he had unhooked it. He let the straps fall and he seized the cups. He pulled the bra away from her body slowly as she stretched.' her arms out in front of her.
"Like my tits, Joe'?" Debbie asked.
"They're the greatest," he assured her. His hands ran lightly over them until the nipples erected under his touch. As he gently felt her up, her hips started to rotate. They undulated slowly in a fucking motion. Joe felt his cock throbbing. He had to get to the bathroom and get rid of the scumbag. Slowly he backed toward it, never letting her out of his reach.
When she saw what he was doing, she remembered the rubber. They stood just inside the bathroom door as she reached for his fly. Joe was still fondling her tits as she unzipped it. She unbuckled his belt too and let his pants drop in a heap around his shoes. She reached through the fly of underpants and grabbed his cock. She pulled it out and slowly rolled the scummy bag off it. She raised the top from the toilet and dropped the bag into the john. She left it floating there and turned back to him. "I'll lick it clean for you," she told him.
Joe stood in the bathroom door as Debbie went down on her knees and blew him. His prick was already getting the bone in it and a few licks of Debbie's rough tongue brought it up to full hardness. Debbie stopped for a moment and pulled his underpants down. She untied his shoes and let him step out of them. Then Debbie stood up again. He was naked from the waist down. She was naked from the waist up. They looked at each other for a moment. "Turn around and hold onto the sink," Joe said.
Debbie did as he told her. She stood with her back to him and leaned forward until her hands rested on the edge of the sink. Joe Hartley took her skirt and lifted it over her backside. He ran his hand over her bony' spine and pulled down her scanty panties, leaving them clinging to the middle of her thighs. "Hold on," Joe told her. Debbie was already holding. Her twat was humid with her pre coital juice. Joe's boner was stiff and ready. He guided it between her naked thighs and let it tickle the fur on her twat. He rubbed it back and forth between her legs until her ass began to twitch. He knew she was horny. He knew how badly she wanted to get laid. He was ready to give it to her. All eight inches.
He slipped it in slowly, carefully wedging the petals of her cunt lips apart, carefully sweeping the hair aside so he wouldn't pull on It. As his prick slipped between the soft lips he could feel the wetness her body was making. He let his prick be bathed in it as he slipped it back and forth through the soft groove, rubbing up against her clit, rubbing down, almost to her asshole. Cunt juice was oozing from her hole. It was oozing all over his cock. He knew it was time to put it in. He carefully positioned the head at her tight, wet opening and pushed into her body.
Debbie's knuckles went white as she clutched the sink. Her head raised and she stared up at the ceiling as she felt her body split apart. She didn't notice the peeling plaster. She didn't notice the deep cracks. All she was aware of was the stiffness that was going into her body. She gasped as her snatch was spread open. Ever so slowly Joe pushed himself into her. Her body quivered and fought back. Her twat contracted but he was too strong for her. His prick went in deeper, plowing everything aside. Even the hot cream couldn't provide enough lubrication to conceal the fiery friction. "Oh" God," Debbie moaned, her eyes partly closed. Her ass was jerking in spasms, working the muscles of her cunt tight against his prick. Joe kept pushing and his cock kept slipping in.
With a final thrust, Joe drove his prick into the deepest depths of her snatch. His balls banged up against her body as' her ass stopped the thrust of his hips. He reached up against her body as her ass stopped the thrust of his hips. He reached over and clutched her tits lightly. He rubbed her nipples in his hands. "Fuck me, Joe," she begged. He could hear her heavy breathing. Joe stood there with his bone up tight in her snapper. His rod didn't budge.
But the girl couldn't stand it. It was turning her wild. Slowly her ass started to undulate. Slowly, in a grinding motion, she was fucking his prick. It didn't take more than a few seconds to get him going. He couldn't stand to just let her do it to him like that. He knew she could bring him off that way if he wanted her to. But Joe wanted to take her hard.
Joe pulled his hands away from her tits and grasped her hips. He held her firmly as he started to fuck. He jammed his cock into her in hard thrusts. He could hear the sucking sound each time he pulled out again. Her cunt was floating his cock in juice. Each time his plunger pumped into her, cream squished out at the opening of her cunt. Joe pounded into her steadily. He could fuck her all day. Unless he happened to come. Which was just what was going to happen if his strokes stayed as hard as they were now. But Joe didn't stop. It felt much too good, for him to do that. He just kept fucking harder and harder.
"Oh, that feels so good," Debbie panted between each thrust. "Fuck me harder, Joe, oh please, fuck me harder!" she begged. But he kept her waiting a little. He made her wait until her hot little ass was squirming back and forth and her cunt was hugging his prick like a glove. Then he let her have it. His cock went wild inside her and his hips pounded frantically against her ass. She was battered forward but she kept pushing back. She kept pushing her body back onto that hot pole that was driving in and out of her snatch. She kept giving him a perfect shot at her gushing cunt.
Joe came in a frenzy of come and grunts and Debbie's uninhibited groan. The cry she made penetrated the thin walls of the cabin but there was nobody around to hear them. Joe Hartley's load was thrilling her body, tickling and jiggling and goosing and flying around inside her twat. Her legs stiffened as she felt herself come. Joe leaned back so his hips could press forward and hold his spurting hose tight inside her. Already come was leaking out of her twat and running down into the panties which still were stretched between her thighs. It didn't matter. They had come here to fuck. Now they had done it and everything was okay.
They washed up and dressed quickly when it was all over. Debbie had to meet some girl friends and Joe knew that he had business to take care of. He felt a little guilty about knocking Debbie off when he should have been thinking of Jane. They got back into the car without speaking and again Joe drove quickly, even though he felt limp inside. He would have to go talk to the minister. Debbie said he should trust him. Well, he wasn't going to trust that minister-or like him either. "I'd better go see Salter," he told Debbie as they parked in front of the church. He resisted making any more cracks about preachers. When a girl fucked as good as Debbie, there was no need to piss her off.
"See you, Joe," she told him lightly, getting out of the car and waving him good-bye.
Reverend Salter was in his office when Joe stepped inside the church. The minister heard the door open and stepped out into the hall to see who it was. Joe could see that the minister looked as surprised to see him as he felt to find himself inside the church in the middle of the week. "Hello, Parson," Joe said, trying to be friendly but not quite sure what to call the man. "Reverend Salter" was a little too much for him. As far as he was concerned, Salter was no more reverend than he was. But he hadn't intended to insult the man.
"Reverend Salter," the minister said, correcting him. "We're not Anglicans here, Mr. Hartley. But perhaps you didn't know that." he added sarcastically. Joe was about to tell him to go fuck himself but he remembered the purpose. Jane was too important to him to let a disagreement with the minister stand in the way of her well-being.
"Look, Reverend Salter," Joe said, swallowing his pride. "I'm looking for my daughter, Jane."
"Your daughter?" the minister said with 'some surprise. "You ask me for the whereabouts of your daughter?" "For Christ's sake, she was supposed to be at choir practice today." Joe realized that he had said something he shouldn't have but the minister overlooked it with a haughty glare.
"Mr. Hartley, this is a church. It is not a shelter for wayward children, nor a clearing house for parents who cannot keep charge of their offspring.
You ask me where your daughter is. I might ask you that same question. Where, Mr. Hartley, is your daughter? Don't you know? What kind of a parent are you that you don't know?"
Cotton Salter's voice was one step below a shout but Joe Hartley stepped back so he wouldn't be deafened by the roar. "Look, Reverend, I just came in and asked you a simple question. Just tell me, plain and simple, have you seen Jane today? Just tell me if she was here at practice." Although Salter was making him feel like a fool, Joe had long since learned that the only way you get things in like is to put up with whatever it takes, even if it is unpleasant. He was not about to leave without some information, even if the damned minister was yelling in his face.
"How would I remember, Mr. Hartley? You know, we have quite a few people who come here every day, even though you may not be one of them. How am I supposed to remember everyone who comes into the church?"
"She was to be here for choir practice," Joe explained. "Wouldn't they notice if' she didn't show up?"
"Choir practice is conducted by Mr. Pollock," the minister explained, as though he were talking to a fool.
"Well?" Joe demanded. "Where's Pollock?" He knew that the parson was giving him the runaround but he knew that the only way he'd get what he wanted was to go through all the steps, no matter how silly it seemed.
"Mr. Pollock has gone home," Cotton told him.
"Well, damn it, you must have a phone around this place!" Joe bellowed, finally getting mad himself. He knew that the minister was baiting him and he wondered why. He wondered if Salter was this way with everyone or only people who didn't go to church regularly.
"Your daughter was not here today, Mr. Hartley," the minister exclaimed in an icy tone.
"You couldn't have told me in the first place?" Joe grumbled.
"As I said, Mr. Hartley, this is not a home for orphans or negligent parents. This is a church, Mr. Hartley, the house of God! You would do well to examine your life, Mr. Hartley, and perhaps you would find that with God's help you can be a better parent. Will that be all, Mr. Hartley?"
"Yea!" Joe grunted as he struggled to keep from saying what he really wanted to. As far as he was concerned, Parson Salty could take his church and his whole congregation and shove them both up his ass. Only Jane wouldn't like to hear that he had spoken to the minister like that. He pushed open the door without saying good-bye.
Chapter 4
Even before the door has slammed behind Joe Hartley, Cotton Salter had already turned to go back to his basement. He couldn't bear being away from the girl. His prick was stiffening again and now he felt pangs of frustration from his first failure with the girl. He had been too eager. He knew that. Only, when he had seen her chained to the wall, so helpless and weak, he had not been able to control himself. He knew he had business to attend to and that the ladies would be calling all afternoon about the cake sale, but he couldn't help it. He had to get back to her. Locking the door to his office, he headed for the small entrance to the cellar of the church. He stopped by the rectory only long enough to find another bottle. With the bottle under his jacket, he unlocked the cellar door. For a moment he had a horrible thought that she might have escaped. He quickly locked the door behind him and hurried down the dark passageway without stopping for either a flashlight or candle.
In the dark he unlocked the door to the inner room. He set the bottle down on the floor and groped through the darkness to where he had left her. His extended hand touched her bare bosom. She screamed. He could hear the chains rattle. She was still his.
Assured of the safety of his prisoner, Cotton made his way back through the darkness to the cabinet and the candles. Feeling the top of the cabinet his hand touched the wax of the candle he had burned earlier. He remembered now that he had left it lit when he had left the room. Now he groped into the cabinet, thinking that he might have left another candle there. He felt something scurry across the back of his hand and he slapped at it. Probably a spider. It gave him the creeps not to be able to see it. But he had to have a light. He groped again and felt a stubby candle. He pulled it out and struck a match. As he lit the stub he realized that this was a candle which had burned on the altar until it was too short for the services. Perhaps there were more of them in the cabinet. With the candle now lighting his way, he looked again. He was in luck. There were several dozen stubs. He took a few of them out and lit them all. They would give him a glorious light. And he would be able to see her better!
As the room became bright with the light of the candles, Cotton could see his victim. She was still against the wall where he had left her. It would have been impossible for her to have moved. He could see the red marks around her wrists where the shackles had cut into her. He could see the one naked tit where he had ripped the bra away. He could see the tiny panties which still covered her golden fluff. The sight of her staggered him. It was like a hungry man being led into a whole roomful of food. He didn't know where to begin. And this time he had left the damn dog outside.
Cotton set the last candle in place and spotted the bottle which he had put on the floor. He picked it up and opened it. He knew that he had been drinking too much lately but he needed it to calm his nerves. Martinsville was getting to him. He would have to take it easy. Now that the blonde was his, it would be easier. But he would have to train her. He would have to teach her all the tricks.
His eyes caught on her panties and he stared at them. Even through the nylon he could see the curly wisps of pubic hair. He wanted to fuck her. He regretted his promise to Lydia. The money didn't really matter. He had only agreed as a favor. If he wanted money, all he had to do was to skim off the collection plate before the goddamn secretary counted it up. Once he had palmed a twenty out of a collection plate with the whole goddamn congregation watching him. Not one of them saw him do it. Being a minister had its advantages. But damn! why had he made that promise? He looked at the girl again. He had to have her. He remembered how she had squirmed when he'd shoved his finger in her cunt. He remembered the way that she fought him when he'd tried to stick it in her mouth.
But his promise to Lydia ruled out her cunt. Unless he could find some way to get his rocks off by eating her out or using his finger again. But that might give her a few thrills but it wouldn't do anything for him. He needed more than a wet finger to make him come. She would have to suck him. That was the only way. But she had probably decided that she would die before she would do it to him that way. He wondered how he could force her to do it.
Cotton took another swig of whiskey as he watched her. He knew that she wanted to speak to him but that she was afraid. That was good. It would make her more pliable. He wiped the whiskey off his lips and suddenly got an idea. The girl knew nothing of his promise to Lydia. She had no way of knowing that some bald businessman had bought an option on her cunt. So maybe he could convince her. .. He wondered which she thought was worse. If getting laid was a fate worse than death, perhaps. . . Perhaps sucking his prick would be the lesser of the evils!
It was a brilliant plan and he was sure it would work. He set down the bottle and approached her. "Ready to get laid?" he asked!
"Oh, no, please, Reverend Salter," Jane stammered. She didn't know what to think anymore for this was all so strange. Yet, she couldn't let that happen to her. It would be wrong. And he shouldn't do it. Perhaps she could convince him. "Please, Reverend Salter, I know I've been bad. I know I've been a hypocrite and that I've done something very wrong." In fact, Jane knew nothing of the kind but she was simply assuming that if such an evil thing was happening to her, she must have done something to deserve it. Certainly God wouldn't let this happen to her if she hadn't deserved it. And that it was a minister who held her prisoner! There had to be a reason for it and it had to be something she had done. Although she didn't know what it was, she struggled to be repentant. "Please help me to be a better girl," she implored, "only don't make me do that! Oh, please, I beg of you!"
Cotton liked it when she begged. It made his prick grow hard. "I have to do it," the minister told her. "It's the only way that you'll learn the consequences of your wickedness," he stammered. He laid his hand on her naked breast and gave it a squeeze. Jane squirmed as she felt his hot hand against her naked flesh. His touch agitated the tender tissue of her nipple and again caused it to erect. She wished that wouldn't happen but she couldn't seem to stop it. Her unwilling body could not help reacting to his touch. His hand pressed between her legs and Jane felt her panties being pushed into the split between her pussylips. As he rubbed his finger back and forth she had a horrible fear of what would happen. She tried to keep her mind off it but the friction was giving her too much stimulation. She knew that slowly the dampness of her own body would wet the panties until the crotch was soaked in her sweet juices.
Cotton knew it, too, and he was determined to keep rubbing her twat until the whole room stank of cunt smell. Then she would realize the position she was in. Then she would realize that even her tight, virgin cunt could not keep out his stiff boner, not with all that slick lubrication smoothing the way for him. She could be like a vise and he would still get in. He wanted her to know it. Then maybe he could get her to blow him.
He rubbed her tit and he rubbed her twat. From time to time he ground his crotch up against her thigh so that she could feel the hardness of his prick. He wanted her to be aware of just how much prick he could give her . . . if he decided to do it. Then maybe she would be more cooperative, when she knew all the consequences. His finger dug deeper into her pussy and he could feel the' dampness beginning to come through her panties.
He was tempted to slip the crotch of her panties aside and dip his finger deep into her twat. But he was worried about her cherry. If it was too tight he might spoil her for Lydia. Certainly he couldn't do that. And besides, Lydia had promised him that he could watch. He would like that. To stand and watch her while a stranger bought the right to deflower her. It would be good. And he could fuck her afterwards. He could fuck her all night. But right now he was going to get his cock sucked, one way or another.
Cotton released the trembling girl and reached for the shackles. Jane breathed a sigh of relief, pleased that he had stopped before bringing her to the climax which he had started to build up inside her. Yet she couldn't help being a little agitated with the feeling he had given her. For the first time in her life she craved to put her finger between her legs and finish the work which his hand had started. She wondered what was becoming of her. She decided that being chained to the wall was making her unstable. She prayed for God to give her more self-control. Yet it seemed strange to her that she would need it.
Cotton released both her arms and pulled her body forward so that only her ankles were now fastened to the wall, as well as being fastened to each other. She fell down on all fours like a dog, but with her ankles chained to the wall she could not go anywhere. She was in a good position, just as long as she stayed up on all fours. Of course she might fall on her stomach and that would make it harder for him. But the floor was very cold and he had the feeling that she wouldn't realize that this was something that could save her. She was so inexperienced that she just wouldn't know. He could take full advantage of her innocence. It would be such a delight.
Cotton moved around in front of her. He unzipped his fly. He would not have to take his pants off for what he was going to do. He whipped out the stiff dong and let it bob in front of her face. With his hand he peeled back the foreskin and let her see the whole length of glistening red meat. She tried to close her eyes but he just laughed at her. It didn't matter if she looked or not. She knew it was inches from her face, and she knew he was going to use it on her. Whether she looked at it or not she could not help but feel the fear of what he was going to do.
Cotton gave his prick a few whacks to test the hardness. He felt himself almost come and he eased off his grip on his cock. It was getting too sensitive from being rubbed inside his pants. "Ready to get fucked?" he asked the girl, stepping behind her and standing between her chain-spread legs. He lifted her tattered dress and hung her skirt over her back.
Jane could feel the nakedness of her loins. The slip was shredded and only her thin panties stood in the way of his lust. Cotton grabbed them and jerked them down to the middle of her thighs. She could not stop him. She tried to reach between her legs and cover herself with her hand but his knee kicked her thigh and knocked her forward. She had to quickly move the hand back to the floor to keep from falling on her face.
Cotton knelt between her thighs and placed his hand on her bare ass. She had a solid fanny and the sensation of touching it delighted him. He shoved his hand between her legs and played with the
fluffy fur. He wanted her to believe that his cock would be next. Only if she really thought that he was going to fuck her could he achieve his purpose. He rubbed her soft pussylips until he felt her body trembling. He knew she was resisting him with every corner of her being. He drew his finger through the gash of her crotch and felt the wetness which had welled up despite all her efforts to conquer her desire. He let his hard prick slap against her soft white inner thigh, dangerously close to her twat. He heard her give a little gasp.
"I'm going to fuck you," Cotton advised. "Perhaps when you've suffered the humiliation you deserve, you'll learn to become a better girl" Cotton was choking to get the words out. His lust had taken control of him and his holy coolness was completely blown. Yet the girl was so troubled herself that the words sounded sincere. They sounded like the same Cotton Salter whom she had admired so much in church. "Only when you've tasted of the flesh will you be able to conquer your lust," he advised. "Only by feeling God's wrath in your body will you be able to control your sinfulness!" he told her.
But Jane could not think of God's wrath. She was more concerned with the minister's stiff cockmeat that was bobbing against the tender lips of her pussy. It was getting her terribly aroused. She knew that she would have to make the greatest effort to stop him. She could hardly trust her body any more and she knew that she might have to do something desperate to save herself. How could she ever let him stick that thing inside her? What would become of her? She hated to think.
"Are you prepared to meet God?" the minister thundered. He was beginning to feel like himself again. He knew he was winning. He could see the doubt in her eyes. "Open up your legs and let the Holy Spirit fill your heart and mind!" he demanded.
"Oh, no, not like that!" Jane cried. It was all catching up to her now, she realized that he was serious. The hard penis against her leg was making her twat ache and she was getting all sorts of strange feelings which she had never felt before. It was all happening so fast that it scared her. She had to do something to slow it down, before her whole world exploded. "Please! Reverend Salter, don't make me do that! I'll do anything you say! I'll do anything but that! Oh, please don't make me do it!"
"Anything, Jane?" he asked, trying to control his impatience. He had to have it soon or his prick would explode. He was practically ready to whack it off just to get a little relief. "Do you know what you're saying?" he asked.
"Yes," she insisted, praying that he would believe her. She wasn't sure what was going to happen. "I'll do anything you tell me to," she promised. "Only don't make me do that!"
Cotton Salter stood up and looked down at the girl. He knew she was sincere. If only he could show the same sincerity for a few more minutes he might be able to get what he wanted. "Do you understand that you have been wicked?" he asked her. She lied and told him that she did. She was sure that it was what he wanted to hear. "Do you know that you have to be punished?" he demanded. Again she said yes. She wasn't sure why. Probably she was lying. But all she could think was that she had to do something to save herself. Everything was getting so confused.
"Jane," Cotton said, standing in front of her again and letting his prick swing in her face. "Do you know that you must repent? Do you know that you must make a sacrifice of yourself in order to be saved?" Hardly hearing his words, Jane nodded her head. If this would save her virginity she was willing. But she wasn't sure what was on his mind. She hardly cared. The heat of his penis against her leg had been very upsetting. She wasn't sure that she could take it again. Perhaps the next time she felt it her resistance would melt. "Jane, there's something you can do-if you want to-rather than getting laid. Here's my cock, Jane. You can suck on it. You can suck on it until I tell you that you may stop. Jane. . . If you want to remain a virgin-and God demands virginity of unmarried women, then you must put my penis in your mouth. You must suck it until you're filled with the Holy Spirit."
Jane looked up at him. She saw the hairy balls. She saw the redness and the stiffness and the amazing length of his penis. He wanted her to put it in her mouth? It seemed like such a strange thing to do . . . but she had never heard anyone say that it was wrong, although certainly it would seem wrong. Her mother had never taught her anything about sex but she had found out a few things about men and women. But certainly this wasn't one of them . . . and that other thing, that other choice he was giving her, why he even admitted that it was wrong. It would be better to do what he was suggesting, even though it seemed terrible distasteful. She looked up at his eyes. She knew that he was going to make her.
"Suck it, Jane," Cotton told her, holding his prick very close to her lips. "Suck it and your sins will be forgiven." Jane looked at it in wonder. He wanted her to put it in her mouth! Could she really do it? She knew she would have to try. It was her only chance and the other thing was much too terrible. She would have to do as he told her. "Put your fist around it, Jane," the minister coaxed. "Hold it in your hand and lick it a little. It will feel good, Jane. Try it and see."
She reached up and took it in her hand. It was hot and throbbing and it frightened her. It gave a twitch and she quickly drew back her hand. "Grab it!" Cotton screamed and Jane quickly did what he told her. "Lick it!" he yelled as she held it tight in her fist. Quickly Jane lowered her head to his bone. This was the only way she could do it. If she stopped and thought about it it would be too much for her. She would just have to do it. She would have to pretend that it was all a dream.
Her tongue flicked against the tender red meat. She wasn't sure what she had expected but it didn't taste any different than it tasted to lick her fingers when she got cake on them. It was just human flesh. She kept repeating it to herself over and over again. She licked up and down the shaft. She was surprised by how hard it was. She was surprised by the way that the skin stretched taut against the bone. Her tongue slowly worked up and down the side. Then she licked the top. "The underside!" Cotton demanded, and Jane licked that too.
His prick was getting covered with her saliva. In the dim light of the candles she could see it glisten. There was something very erotic about the sight and she couldn't help feeling it. To be alone in a dim room with a man who was sexually aroused, while she knelt on the bare floor, her clothes torn to rags, struggling to satisfy his lust. She felt her body responding to the same hot desires which stirred his. She closed her eyes as she licked but found herself peeping. She couldn't understand it but she just had to look. Perhaps it was only to protect herself. She tried to convince herself that this was the case. But in her heart she knew it was a lie. She knew that his prick aroused her!
Licking his penis wasn't as bad as she had imagined. There was really no taste and how could he hurt her this way? She even allowed her tongue to stretch out shamefully and lick against his balls. He seemed to like that too. She could hear his heavy breathing. But Cotton was not content. "Put it in your mouth!" he told her. He grabbed her hair gently and firmly held it up. "Put your lips around it and let your head rock back and forth. Don't stop till I tell you, do you understand?"
Jane found herself nodding her head in agreement. Already she felt the shame of what she was doing. She hadn't hated it the way that she should have. Perhaps the minister was right. Perhaps if she put it in her mouth she would feel how degraded she was. She did as he told her. She opened her jaws wide. She poked the wide bone between her lips. She had to stretch them fully apart in order to accommodate him. Her mouth seemed so small with him inside her. She could hardly 'breathe. She had to struggle a little to get accustomed to it. The head of his prick poked out against her cheek and stretched her flesh. Her lips fastened around the tender skin behind the head and clamped down the way that he told her to. She began to rock her head.
At first it was awkward. She was keeping her lips so tight that he wouldn't slide in her mouth. She let more spit drool down the hot shaft and she felt it dribbling down her chin. She knew she was making a mess of it. She wasn't sure what she could do about it. But she struggled on, bobbing her aching neck up and down on the shaft, trying to adjust her lips so that the cock slid easily across them. She had to be careful with her teeth so-that she didn't bite down on him. She began to find it going easier and she was slightly pleased with herself. She was beginning to feel that it wasn't such a bad thing. And maybe he was helping her, in his own way. Surely God hadn't let this happen to her for no reason, even if perhaps Reverend Salter had fallen in lust.
Jane felt Reverend Salter's hands on her head. He was only pressing lightly, not the way he had hurt her before. It didn't feel bad to have him rest his hands like that. In fact, it helped to give her a feeling of confidence in what she was doing. There was no way that he could tell that she was dripping cream into her panties now. That made her feel a little better. He would think that she was very penitent. So why shouldn't she let herself go a little with what she was doing? After all, she was being forced. That part was a comfort to her. Otherwise she couldn't have gone on.
Cotton Salter's hips began to jerk forward and backward. He was no longer standing still and letting him blow her but gradually he began to really fuck her in the mouth. His prick was impatient for a chance to blow its load. He could feel himself coming and he held her head tighter. He knew that no matter what he told her, she would try to pull away. But he wouldn't let her. He would make her eat it. He wanted to see what she would think of having his load in her mouth. He jerked his hips faster. He made her suck faster too. He could feel himself coming and his balls ached. Then it was happening. Right down the pipe. His fuck was flying and she was tasting his load.
Jane felt the hot spurt fly deep against the back of her throat and instinctively pulled away. She felt his firm grip holding her and for a moment she thought that she would choke. For a moment she panicked as his rod rammed toward her tonsils and his come spurted out. Then she found that she could breathe through her nose. She found that he could pump his heavy wad into her mouth and fill her jaws. She found that her tongue could swish the sticky globs around her gums. It was a terrible feeling, a feeling of total helplessness and degradation. It was horrible to have a man do this to her. It filled her with shame. And yet somewhere beneath the shame and horror, somewhere beneath the humiliation, Jane found herself aroused and willing.
The minister's prick jerked and squirted. Jane had to struggle to contain it all in her mouth. And he was gripping her head so tightly. Wouldn't he let her alone? She licked and sucked and tried to do his bidding. She felt something warm drool down her chin and fall against her breast. She was getting it all over. She struggled not to be so messy. She couldn't really help herself. It made her ashamed. Like a naughty little girl. She hoped that he wouldn't say anything. She didn't want more punishment.
But Cotton Salter had blown his stack. His pipes were clean and his thoughts were rapidly returning to the bottle on the floor. Turning his back on her abruptly, he went and fetched it. He took a long pull and set the bottle down on the cabinet, right in front of the silver cross. He stopped to catch his breath. He looked down and saw that his limp prick was still hanging from his fly. He reached down and stuffed it back in his pants. He noticed that she had licked it very clean. He didn't even have to wipe it with a handkerchief. Nobody would be able to smell the come. He walked over to her and looked at her. He saw that she was crying. Tears were running down her cheeks. Her head was lowered.
The sight of her aroused him, even though he knew he really didn't have time. The ladies would be expecting him for the cake sale. Well, he had a nice piece of cake of his own. Seeing how he had humiliated her only made him want to abuse her more. He wanted to do things to her, things she would hate. Cotton Salter clutched the whiskey bottle and suddenly an idea came to him. He looked at the long neck of the bottle. It wasn't very big around, not much bigger than a Tampax. Even Salter wondered about the bottle. He wondered just how much she could take without ruining her for Lydia. Christ, Lydia would hate him if the girl was ruined. But maybe the bottle wouldn't be that big.
She was still crouching on the floor as he approached her. He could see the fear in her eyes. He wondered if she had guessed what he was going to do to her. He wondered if he should chain her first. But he thought about it for a moment and realized that she couldn't resist him. If she resisted she would only succeed in hurting herself. The only way she could stay a virgin was by submitting completely, by letting him have his way with her. That would be her only defense. He bent down and released the chains from her ankles.
"Ever gotten fucked with a bottle?" the minister sneered. He poked it in her direction so she could see how the slender neck resembled a hard prick. Her eyes narrowed a little but she said nothing. "Ever play with yourself that way when you were a kid?" he asked. "Come on, I'm your minister. You can trust me," he grinned. "What did you do when you wanted to make yourself feel good?" he asked. "Did you just do it with your finger or did you use something else? A carrot, maybe. Or a banana. Well, the bottle is a little stiffer. I think you'll like it. Just hold still now. . . "
"No!" Jane Hartley shrieked, jumping up from where she had been cringing on the floor and running to the farthest corner of the room. Cotton Salter grinned and slowly pursued her. There was no place she could run. "Let me out of here!" she cried, darting to the locked door and frantically trying to twist the handle with her hands. She could not budge the door. She even tried to kick it with her foot. She looked for another corner to run to but she knew she was trapped. He slowly closed in on her.
She tried to cry out again but she was choked off by his strong hand across her throat. He pinned her head to the door and pushed her dress away from her crotch. "Just hold still and you won't get hurt," he advised her. She screamed at him to leave her alone. Quickly, he explained what happened when a virgin used Tampax. He realized that she had never even put that into her body. But she had heard a little from her friends. She knew he was telling her the truth. Before she could have a chance to think about it any more, he jammed the bottle between her thighs so she could see just how hard that it was. He wanted her to know that he meant business. Her face was pure panic. "You'll just have to trust me," he grinned. She knew he was telling her the truth. Her only safety was in trust. But how could se trust a man who was so filthy? It was hard for her to do.
"Don't let it rip your cunt apart," Cotton smiled as he applied the neck of the bottle to the crack between her pussylips. The bottle was dry and hard. The feeling that it gave her scared her. It was almost as if she would have preferred the minister to put his prick there. At least it wouldn't have been quite so hard. But the bottle scared her. She tried to stand very still. "I'll wet it a little for you," he told her. He went down on his knees.
Jane Hartley stood without daring to move as Cotton Salter lapped at her pussy. She tried not to feel what he was doing to her. She tried to pretend that there was no feeling in her clit when his tongue pressed against it. She tried to ignore the stimulation when his finger probed her cunt, trying to see how deep it could go without damaging her. She tried to hold very still and pretend that nothing was happening. She might have convinced him, had her body not released its soft white cream.
She could feel it coming. It was oozing out of the walls of her cunt. She wondered why it happened like that, even though she didn't want it. It made her mad at herself. There was no way she could fight it. And, now he would know. Everything that she had been trying to hide. There was no concealing the way that her body was feeling. There was no sense in trying to hide her shame. He could see it all. All in that thin white cream. She felt her breath coming faster. The' minister got back up to his feet.
"Just relax and let it happen," Cotton urged. Jane looked at him in terror. She couldn't help holding her legs tight. She felt the cold neck of the bottle against her thigh. Then he had it in her cunt fur. He was playing with her. He was slowly splitting her snatch apart with the neck of the bottle, slowly finding her vagina. She froze as she felt it press against her deep opening. She pressed her body back against the door as he started to shove it into her. Yes, she had dreamed of something like this happening to her when she was little, but that was a nightmare. Now her nightmare was coming true.
She felt the slightest trace of pain as the lip of the bottle disappeared inside her. She knew that the bottle was straining against her hymen, trying to pass through it without ripping it. Was the opening wide enough? It was wide enough to let her period blood out, she knew that much. But could it let the bottle in? She would soon see. It was a terrible thing that was happening. It scared her to think of it. Yet the bottle was being pressed into her. Deeper and deeper. Despite all her wishes. He was pushing it into her cunt.
Halfway down the neck, the bottle widened. Cotton Salter noticed the wide spot and wondered if he should try his luck. He didn't want to hurt her. Not until Lydia had her. He just wanted to shake her up a little. It might be taking too much of a chance. But he had the bottle in her. Maybe he could fuck her a little. Slowly he started to run the bottle in and out of her body. Slowly he increased the speed. The bottle was wet with her own cream. Her .body had made it slippery. While one hand worked the bottle, his other hand reached for her cunt. He pushed his fingers through her cunt hair. His middle finger found her clit. While he continued to work the bottle inside her, he began to diddle her twat.
Jane immediately felt the effect. She couldn't help squirming a little now, even though she tried to be careful. The bottle hadn't done much except frighten her. A cold old bottle couldn't arouse her. But his finger could. The human touch was working. And worst of all, as she squirmed at the touch of his finger, she found herself riding the bottle. The unyielding glass seemed to be warming as her twat writhed over it. She hadn't expected this to happen. She had thought that she had it under control. But his finger was really burning her, really setting her aflame. Now, as she squirmed and wiggled her ass, she was actually fucking herself with the bottle, she was actually making her body move in a fucking rhythm. Jane tried to stop herself before he noticed but she saw she was already too late.
"Like it, honey?" Cotton Salter said in amusement. "Are you sure you never did that as a little girl?"
"No!" Jane said, embarrassed, and the word did not come out as forcefully as she had intended. She wondered why it was so hard to control her body. Certainly she had never had this problem before. Not before she had met Reverend Salter.
"Maybe you'd rather have my dick?" the minister asked. Stopping for a moment and rubbing the front of his pants. "Please don't do that," she begged, frightened even by the thought of what might happen if he bared his erect tool.
She wondered what would happen. She wondered if she just might lose control. She didn't want to be put to the test. Not when she was feeling this way.
Cotton Salter continued to rub her clit. She continued to fuck the bottle, despite her resolution not to. There was nothing that she could do to bring her raging body under control again. She was lost in a whirlwind of lust. Her ass started to pound gently up against the door. Her tits felt so sensitive she could hardly bear it when the minister pressed his chest up against her body. If getting fucked was just like this, No! What was she thinking! She had to get control of herself!
But Jane could already feel the warmth building inside her. Already she knew that she was about to release what was building up inside her. It was funny the way that orgasms seemed so natural to her when the minister was around. She tried to wish that he would stop, but she couldn't even do that. All she could do was to choke off her gasps so that they were inaudible when they finally escaped her lips.
"Like to fuck?" the minister grinned, jabbing and rubbing harder. She didn't have to answer him. Her body would answer well when the time for it came. Right now she was giving all the proof he could ask for. His finger was swimming in her creamy juice. "Like to get it a little harder?" he said, doing just that. He was still careful not to drive the bottle too deep but the finger didn't matter. He could do what he wanted with the finger, and he wanted to do her good. He knew she was going to come, even if she didn't scream out loud. He could see her trying to choke it off in her throat. He wiggled the finger harder.
She came like a flash. It was so sudden that she couldn't quite control the cry completely and she knew that the first part of her gasp came out loud. The rest of it choked off in her throat where it seemed to inflame her whole insides. Her cunt was torrid. It was on fire with lust. She thought for a moment that it might melt the bottle. The bottle had seemed to disappear. But it was only her slick lubrication which had oozed so generously that the bottle was swamped in it. All she could feel was her own cream. Her legs seemed to twist as her body went tense. She rose slightly on her toes as the last little twitch worked down to her feet. Then she relaxed.
Jane leaned back against the door as Reverend Salter drew the cunt-drenched bottle from her pussy. He staggered backward slightly until he could take in her full length at his leisure. In a quick jerky motion he raised the bottle to his lips. Jane watched in wonder as he drank from it. He hardly seemed to notice the white secretion which now covered the first three inches of the neck. He leaned his head back and took a stout pull. "Shit, the cake sale;' he said abruptly, pulling the bottle from his lips and splurting whiskey down the front of his clothes. "Mints, mints. . . " he muttered as he reached into his pocket. He drew them out and popped one in his mouth. He set down the bottle. There was that fucking cake sale in the assembly hall and he had to give the blessing. He would have to save her until later. When he could have some more fun.
Cotton Salter reached over and caught Jane under her armpits. He lifted her roughly, practically pulling her off her feet. She stumbled a
little as he did it, but she didn't fall. He pushed her up-against the wall. Once again he chained her legs in place. Once more she did not resist him as he shackled her wrists. He knew he was breaking her will. Already he had humbled her. She was ashamed of what she had done. So ashamed that she couldn't face the others. She could not run from him, not like this. His sticky fuck still clung to her bosom in a white glob. He wiped it off with the back of his finger and dabbed it onto her nose.
He smiled as her face twisted in disgust. She was such a joy!
Chapter 5
Cotton Salter drove recklessly. His car was black and shabby-a perfect minister's car-and if the cops stopped him, usually the clerical clothes were enough to get him off with a warning. Frequently the cops would even apologize for stopping him, especially when he told them he was on his way to comfort a dying woman. It always amazed him, the shit people believed about ministers. It was one of the few benefits of the trade.
He never really liked the drive into Pittsburg. Often he got lost, usually when he was feeling his homiest, and then he would have to stop and get directions. At times he just felt like asking where he could find Aunt Lydia's whorehouse. People would probably have been able to help him faster if he asked that way. But he always ended up by giving the street address and having to sit in the car while some asshole stopped and thought which direction was up. This time he was careful to make all the right turns. With the- girl in the trunk, he didn't want to get all screwed up. The mission was too urgent. He wanted to see her get fucked. And tonight he had the feeling that if he made a wrong turn and got lost, he would end up fucking her himself. He soon found the street.
Although customers usually parked on the street as a precaution against the infrequent but unpredictable raids conducted by the local police, Cotton drove into Lydia's driveway and around to the four-car garage at the back of the house. Although the neighbors paid little attention to Lydia's business, he was careful to park as close to the house as possible, even though it was dark. He left the car and went to the back door. Lydia was waiting for him.
"Have you got her?" she asked quickly, holding the door open for Cotton.
"She's in the trunk," he explained.
"The trunk!" Lydia asked, horrified that such a delicate cargo would be transported in such a gruff manner. "Couldn't you at least put her on the floor in the back?" She shook her head in disgust with the minister's lack of respect. "Oh well, go ahead and bring her in. We have a room ready for her in the basement, although she's probably tired of being locked off in the cellar. This one's soundproof, and usually they do scream the first time. At least when they aren't expecting it. And besides, this room has a hole where we can watch from. I think that you'll like it. Come on now, bring her down the cellar stairs."
Lydia opened the door to the cellar and Cotton went to the car to get his prize. He was pleased that she hadn't tried to bang on the trunk lid. The warning he had given must have scared her. That was good. He would warn her again before they left her in the room. Otherwise she might kill the old guy. He had a feeling that she still had some spunk in her, even though he had taken her down a few notches. He unlocked the trunk and saw that she was curled up in a little ball. Even with the lid up she didn't try to jump out. She waited for him, obviously terrified, and he had to jab her in the ribs to get her up.
"Come on," he told her. "Party's inside." Jane Hartley looked around and saw the Victorian three-story house with its peeling paint and weather-beaten look. She looked around at the other houses but it was too dark out for her to make out any details. She had no idea of where they were or why he had brought her here. She stood patiently by the car as he locked the trunk again. She knew that it was a chance to try to run but she also knew that her legs were stiff from being so cramped in the trunk. He would catch her in an instant. And then he would punish her.
"Inside," he said, pointing to the house. Jane walked toward it in an unsteady gait. Her legs felt weak, as though they would not support her. She climbed the wooden steps and went through the open door. Inside she saw the woman who was holding the door to the basement open for her. "Hello, dear," the woman said in greeting. Jane did not answer. She didn't like the way the woman was dressed, with only a dressing gown over her nightie. It reminded her of a woman in a movie she had seen. And that woman had been a prostitute.
"Downstairs," her minister told her. Jane followed his instructions without question. There was a light on at the bottom of the stairs and it guided her way. The stairs were rickety and she walked slowly. She was nervous about what she would find. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. What Jane Hartley saw made her blood run cold. At one end of the basement she could see the furnace through an open door. It was the only furnishing of the basement which seemed at all normal. The other most obvious feature was a small stage with a movie screen behind it. In front of the stage were several worn sofas and armchairs. Behind the sofas was a movie projector and on the wall were two large oil paintings depicting obscene acts. Jane quickly looked away from them. As she turned, she caught sight of the whips. They were hanging along the other wall, all different kinds of them. Some of them actually were made out of wire and had barbs in them. Others were only made out of silk handkerchiefs but were fashioned in the same manner. She did not even ask herself what they were for. She didn't want to know. Nor did she want to know why there was an old-fashioned bedpan lying on a table by the wall, or why there was an enema bottle beside it.
"We'll go in there," Lydia said, pointing to a door on one side of the room. Jane noticed that there were three different doors along the far wall.
They all looked very solid, much more solid than the rest of the house. She wondered why that was. In fact, the wall that they were connected to looked unusually solid too.
Lydia held the door for her and Cotton pushed her in ahead of him. Although she had been terrified at what she might find in the room, Jane saw that it contained no more than an armchair and a large double bed with an old-fashioned canopy over it. The bed had been made up with fresh linen and there was an old-fashioned washstand with a basin and pitcher on top of it. It was just like an old-time hotel room. She wondered what this place could be. And she wondered why they had brought her here. They definitely seemed to have something in mind.
"Like it?" Cotton asked. Of course, she didn't know it yet, but it was the bed on which she was about to lose her virginity. They wanted everything in the room to be perfect for her when it happened. Jane looked around the room and Cotton could see that she was at a loss to understand why she was here. She did seem to understand that the room was a prison, that it had a lock on the door. But she still wondered why he had moved her from the church to this comfortable room. After all, she had probably thought that if he wanted to rape her, he could do it as well in the church. She probably thought that she was safe from that threat, at least for a while.
"Make yourself comfy," Lydia advised. "We'll see you in a while." With Jane still looking wondrously at her new surroundings, they turned and left her.
Lydia locked the door carefully behind them. "Want to see where we'll watch her from?" she asked the minister. Cotton told her he did. "It's this way," she said, guiding him to the next door down the row. She opened it and Cotton saw that it was quite similar to the room in which they had left the girl. There was only one difference. Although it had the same type armchair and washstand, in place of the bed was an old-fashioned torture rack, the kind that might be seen in a medieval movie. It was the first time he had seen the device, although Lydia had mentioned it to him. Occasionally, when somebody was willing to pay enough, they put one of the girls on it-usually a new one who needed some breaking in-and they stretched her just a little, just enough to make her joints crack. And then they let the customer tease her with a whip while a second girl sucked his cock. It was a treat for Lydia's customers, but not many of them could pay for the service.
"The window's over here," she told Cotton, turning him away from the rack. There was a sliding panel on the wall and she slid a bolt back and revealed a view of the other room through a two-way mirror. They both stood up to the wall and looked through. "I'll get you a chair when he comes," Lydia promised. "And I'll make sure that the door's locked behind you if you want. Or maybe you want Mindy to keep you company? Oh well, you think about it," Lydia. told him, seeing that he was not even listening to her but was already intently watching the girl in the other room. "Look, Cotton," Lydia said, looking at her watch. "He should be here any minute now. I'd better get back upstairs. Why don't you just use that chair over there if you want one. But don't let this john see you peeping, for God's sake don't do that. He's one of my best customers and he's damn nervous about even coming here."
Without turning away from the sight of the girl, Cotton assured Lydia he would do as she asked. He told her to close the door behind her. He promised not to open it until the coast was clear. He gave her no instructions on Mindy, and Lydia decided to forget about the other girl. After all, she could earn good money upstairs. She had been very popular, particularly with the teen-age kids who were coming here more frequently now. She turned and left Cotton peeping through the wall. She knew that by the time the act was over, her minister friend would be begging to get laid. If she was lucky she'd get a chance to fuck him herself. She always liked Cotton's insane hard-on. She could never get enough of it. But now she had work to do. She closed the door carefully behind her and hurried up the stairs.
Chapter 6
With Lydia gone, Cotton Salter continued to watch the girl through the panel in the wall. He did not even bother to get the chair that Lydia had pointed out. He was not about to get tired at what he was doing. It was his first chance to observe the girl when she thought that she was all alone. He saw that she could not make her mind up to sit down. She continued to stare at her surroundings as if she were afraid to move around the room and explore. He knew that she was still terrified, even though there was nobody in the room with her. He knew that she was still expecting some sort of trap. She looked so beautiful in the snug black dress and the high black boots. Through the loose knit of her dress he could see her pale-white flesh, all except where the bra and panties formed dark circles around her body. She was so good to look at . . . but the fun was only starting...
Cotton did not have to wait long for the main act. He saw the girl start and turn toward the door. He heard the click of the door being opened. He looked and saw a short man in a dark raincoat entering the room. The man was wearing a hat with a wide brim and a pair of sunglasses and it was impossible to get the least idea of what he looked like. Obviously he had planned this effect. Lydia had mentioned that he was quite well-known in certain prominent circles. He was also a husband and grandfather. People who knew him would not expect him to frequent a place like Lydia's. Nor would they expect to find him raping unwilling virgins.
The door closed again and Cotton was unable to catch a glimpse of Lydia. He did hear the click which indicated that the door was being locked again. The short man and Jane were locked in the room together. Even if the girl was able to temporarily overpower him, she would not be able to escape. The man and the girl looked at each other. The sinister appearance of the man had frightened her. She had guessed correctly that he had not come to aid her in her distress. The man slipped out of his coat and hung it over the back of the armchair. He took off his hat and placed it on top of the coat. Cotton could see now that he was bald, just as Lydia had told him. "I want you to suck me first," the man said, without taking off his sunglasses. Jane looked at him in disbelief. "Suck you?" she asked questioningly. "I want you to suck my prick," the man explained. He had thought that she had at -least known what was expected' of her.
"Don't talk to me like that!" she told him, raising her clenched fists in restrained anger. Who was he to come in and say such a thing to her? And who did he think that she was? "If you can't be nice, I wish that you would leave," she told him, trying to sound calm and firm. That approach always worked for her mother and she wondered why the man just laughed at her now.
"Sister, you are something else," the man said. "Don't worry about a thing, honey. I'll be nice to you. I'll be nice to you... right between your legs!"
"Don't talk to me like that!" Jane warned. She was angry now. With Reverend Salter she had been scared. Reverend Salter was a very scary man, a man who had power from above. But this man wasn't like Reverend Salter at all. Why, he was even shorter than she was and he didn't look so tough without the hat and raincoat. He even looke9 a little ridiculous with the oversized sunglasses covering his pudgy face. A lot of things had happened to her in the last few days but she had not yet forgotten the differences between right and wrong. She had not yet forgotten that she was still a good girl-and that she intended to stay that way!
"Come on, kiddo, give me a little tit," the man said, advancing on her with his palms up flat and his fingers moving in a clawing motion. "Let's see those jugs you got," he said. "Christ, you remind me of my daughter," he admitted.
"Get away from me!" Jane cautioned, stepping back from him. She was careful to move away from the bed so that she wouldn't be trapped by it. But the man was still advancing on her. Her words meant nothing to him. He had no respect for her wishes. In fact she could see the bulge which pressed out against the front of his pants. Her experience with Cotton Salter had taught her what was making that bulge.
"Come on, girlie. Let's see that squishy twat. Give me a nice wide hole to put my finger in. Come on now, girlie, let's see what you got!"
Despite his heavy looks, the man was surprisingly agile on his feet. His desire spurred him on so that he forgot about his years and his weak heart and his asthmatic condition. His prick was hard and his mind was growing soft. He had to get it in her. That was all he knew. He followed as Jane backed away. The room was small and there was no place she could go. She felt the wall behind her and stepped aside. She found herself in the corner and he was standing in front of her. She looked to each side of her. She was boxed in. And he had done it so quickly! Jane couldn't help being amazed at him.
"Now, my dear, why don't you just relax and cooperate? I'm not going to hurt you, after all I'm going to give you something that you'll like very much. You've never had a man's cock between your legs, have you?" he wheezed. Jane found that she was shaking her head. "Of course you haven't. You're a virgin. They told me you were a virgin. That's what I paid for."
"Paid?" Jane asked as she heard the strange word.
"Paid, of course! Nobody gives it away for free. Not to an old man like me. But you're going to make it good for me, aren't you, girlie? You're going to make it nice for me, so I don't have to work too hard for it, isn't that right? You will hold your legs open for me so I can bust your cherry, won't you?" Jane just stared at him without answering. She was trying to find some way to escape.
The man stepped closer to her but the wall blocked her retreat. She could feel his eager breath on her face, she could feel his fat belly pushing against her, she could feel his small pudgy 'hands reaching out for her. Suddenly she could take it no more. She had to do something! She couldn't just stand here and wait for it to happen. With abrupt decisiveness she lurched to one side and pushed her way past him. The man was knocked off balance but as she pushed past him his hand shot out and caught the back of her dress, right over her ass. His fingers dug into the loose knit and Jane would feel the fabric ripping apart. She tried to keep pulling but she knew she was caught. She turned to face him, knowing that she had to break his grip.
But this was just what the man wanted. Now he quickly released his grip on her ass and grabbed for the open neck of the dress. Before Jane could stop him, his hand was between her cleavage. His fingers caught between the cups of her bra and jerked her toward him. "NO!" she screamed as her breasts ground against his chest. "Let go of me!" she cried, struggling to pull away from him. She felt a sweaty hand on her leg, reaching up under her skirt. "Stop that!" she insisted. Her hands pressed against his chest in an effort to push herself away from him. He was trying to rape her!
Jane broke the grip on her body. Twisting free of her attacker, she hurried to the door. There was no handle on the inside. There was no way she could open it. She was still examining the door, struggling to search out its secret, when the bald man caught up with her. This time he was even rougher than before.
His arms grasped her around the waist and he threw her to the floor, using his great bulk for leverage. She turned but landed on her back. Momentarily the wind was knocked out of her. Before she could regain her composure, he was on top of her. His hands were tearing at the front of her dress and Jane gasped in horror as she saw the fabric torn away. He was exposing her body, clawing at it with his hands. She screamed and hit at him with her fists but her efforts could not prevent him from grabbing her bra and wrestling it away from her breasts.
Both tits popped out of the cups. Instantly he covered them with his hands. He ground his palms into her. Jane grabbed his wrists in a vain effort to stop him. He was much too strong for her. And the weight of his body on her stomach was choking her. She could feel herself growing weak and helpless. She struggled to squirm away from him so she could breathe. Her nipples had grown hard and the touch of his fingers was sending hot thrills through her body. Yet it did not break her resistance, not the way it had done with Reverend Salter. "She hissed and spat at him and tried to bite him. He laughed at her and bounced a little on her stomach. Jane found herself gasping for breath.
With his full weight firmly planted on her stomach, the man reached behind his back and drew up her skirt. Reaching between her soft inner thighs, his hand found her crotch and pressed against the opening in her crotchless panties. Jane could feel a stiff finger probing at her body. She tried to kick her legs to stop him but every time that she almost had him he would bounce on her stomach a little until she had to gasp for breath. The finger worked its way into her bone-dry cunt. She felt it push her furry lips apart. He did not bother with the little button which might have released her slick fluid but instead poked directly into the hole where he wanted to slip his cock. It was tight and dry. It was a virgin hole. But neither her dryness nor her virginity stopped his finger. Jane cringed as he poked at her. The finger worried her terribly.
Jane held her muscles tight as his finger probed between her legs. She knew he was trying to enter her, trying to poke his finger where no man had any right to be. He was trying to do something horrible to her and she had to stop it, even if she was flat on her back with his enormous bulk jouncing on the pit of her stomach. She must resist him! It was her only thought. But although she strained to keep her muscles taut, his finger seemed to be probing deeper. Jane gasped as it was suddenly stopped by a tight membrane. He was right up against her hymen!
The man felt it and it must have turned him on. Instead of probing deeper he suddenly climbed to his feet and grabbed her by her shoulders. Jane felt herself being dragged to her own feet and flung across the room. He had thrown her onto the bed and she landed with her stomach down and her feet still on the floor. But he was after her immediately. He grabbed her feet and threw them too onto the bed. Her skirt rose up as her legs split apart. Before she could pull them together again, he had climbed up on the bed and was kneeling between them. He still had all his clothes on, just as she had on all of hers. But with her dress raised over her thighs and with the panties with no crotch, she knew she was vulnerable. She knew that the firm globes which rose above the cups of her bra were not the only part of her body which was open to invasion.
With her legs parted, the man stopped to pull out his cock. Jane did not watch him. She knew what it would look like. She remembered with horror the stiff redness of the minister's prick. The man fumbled between his legs for a moment and Jane looked from side to side, frantically trying to find a means of escape. There was nothing she could do. She tried to pull her body away from him but he caught hold of her thighs and held her legs tight while he watched her writhing torso.
He waited until she had burned up her frantic energy. Then he slowly spread his weight across her body. Slowly his bulk rolled across her, like a steamroller, and his hot breath panted alongside her neck. She felt something hard jabbing at her thigh. She knew it was his prick. His hand reached down between her legs and again poked at her tight virgin cunthole. Again Jane tried to hold her body taut to stop him. He was crushing her, grinding her into the bed, and she knew that he was winning.
He hunched over her and grabbed his cock in his hand. She could"8ee it now-it was longer than she had imagined-and his balls were hanging in a tight bundle beneath it. He jabbed it toward the hold his finger had just opened. Jane felt it entering her body. Although she kicked and squirmed there was nothing she could do. He was in her cunt, poking into that virgin entrance to her body. But he was not going very deep. Only the tip of the head had sunk into her. He was struggling to go deeper, to split her twat open. But her tight cherry was blocking him. And her body refused to cream.
"Oh, Christ, get it in!" he cried, angry at her for stopping him. His desperate urge was driving him on, his chest crushed her tits, his fist banged against her thigh and held his cock straight. Without his fist around it, his prick would have doubled up. "Fuck me!" he demanded. "Oh, God, fuck me!"
Jane listened to his desperate words but continued to resist. She hated this man, she hated what he was doing. If she had a knife she might have thought of killing him. It was a thought she had never had before. Yet the horrible thing he was doing to her was so I wrong! Didn't he deserve to die? She wished that God would strike him dead on the spot. She wished that somehow she could be away from all this. His prick continued to jab at her but she realized that he was making no progress. Yet in his frantic state, he could not think straight. He could not think of what he might have to do to win his way with her. He could only struggle on blindly with his vain attack.
But suddenly something was happening. It was as if God had finally heard her prayers and answered them. His cock was spurting. She could feel the hot come. But it wasn't going into her body! She was still a virgin! His load was splashing against her flat stomach, it was wetting her panties. He had been too eager and he had come before he had gotten in. Jane breathed a sigh of relief as she heard his groan of disappointment. She was really safe. Even the man knew it now. She looked up at him and saw the squirting prick that he now held limply in his hand. His load was going all over her, staining her black dress, but it was not going inside her body. The ordeal was over.
Slowly, the man rose, from her. She saw him shaking his head. He looked at his limp dick and at the semen he had splattered on her body. He knew he was too old to get it up again. He knew that once was all he could do. But he was embarrassed at his failure. He didn't want Lydia to know. If the other girls heard about this it would spoil his good reputation. "Don't say anything," he muttered, not even able to confront the girl on the bed. He had paid too much to have it known that he had failed. With his head still shaking from side to side, he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped off his prick. It was not really messy. He hadn't even been able to dip it in her cream. He zipped up his fly and adjusted his sunglasses. Without saying anything more to her, he went to fetch his coat and hat. Jane was still covering her face in her hands and so she did not see the spot on the wall that he touched to make the door open. Only when the door banged shut behind him did she notice that he was gone.
Seeing that she was alone again, Jane quickly got to her feet. For a moment she was paralyzed by a sharp pain in her stomach where he had jounced on her. But she shook out the pain and moved a little, cautiously, to make sure that she was all right. Her eye stopped on the pitcher and basin on the washstand. She looked at the pitcher and saw that it was full of water. There was a small towel hanging on the side of the stand.
Quickly Jane took the towel and dipped it in water. Perhaps she could get rid of the stains. She rolled up her skirt and dabbed at the spots he had left. She carefully wiped her belly clear of any trace of his semen. She rinsed the towel and dipped it in the water again. This time she cleaned up her panties. She didn't mind that her clothes would be wet. They would dry fast enough. But at least she could be clean. With her panties washed off, she put the towel down again. She noticed that her breasts were still poking out above the cups of her bra. She adjusted the bra and pulled the front of the dress closed over it. She twisted her neck in an effort to see where he had ripped the dress over her fanny. She saw that the tear was hardly noticeable. She wished that there was a mirror she could have looked in. She hoped that she hadn't overlooked anything.
Then a thought struck her and she took the towel again. She dipped it in the water and pulled her skirt up again. Standing with her legs apart, she wiped her furry crotch. What if any of the man's semen had fallen on her pussy! She had to make sure that was clean. She was still wiping herself between her legs when the door opened and Lydia came in.
"Well, my dear, I see that you know how to take care of yourself," Lydia noted in a pleased tone. She had simply assumed that Jane had been deflowered and was now struggling to blot the last traces of come from her twat. After all, with crotchless panties a girl couldn't go around dripping spunk. It would run right down her leg! And certainly that would be embarrassing if it happened it public. But Jane had already put away the towel and brushed down her skirt. She was embarrassed that Lydia had seen what she was doing. "Reverend Salter is waiting for you," Lydia said. "Come along with me."
Cotton Salter was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. He had been watching in the other room and had seen everything that had happened. He had seen the wheezing little man chase her onto the bed and pull up her skirt. He had seen the man jerk out his prick and try to shove it in her. He had seen the bald blimp come all over her belly. He knew she was still a virgin.
But Cotton had said nothing to Lydia. Had she known what had happened, Lydia would have quickly sold the girl's hymen to another customer. Cotton didn't want to see that happen. Watching her in the room with the man had been too much for him. Now he wanted her for himself. He did not want to wait any longer. Now he was going to take her home.
"Isn't she pretty as a picture?" Lydia cooed, inspecting Jane's dress and making sure that everything was in place. "I do hope that you'll bring her back soon, Cotton. We have so many men who would just love her. I'm sure that she'd love to earn a little pocket money and it would be such a delight to see her working!"
"We'll be back," Cotton promised. "When the time comes," he added evasively. "But right now she's had a long day and I'm sure that she wants to take a little nap. She's going to have a big night coming up too," he whispered to the madam so that Jane couldn't hear him. He didn't want her to get frightened until he had locked her safely in the basement. "Come along, Jane," he told his prisoner. "We're going home."
"You're not going to put her in the trunk again?" Lydia asked with concern. From the smile on the minister's face, she saw that he was. "Oh, Cotton, it isn't right to do that to a young girl. Not after all she's been through. After all, for a girl to lose her virginity is a big occasion. You should have a party for her or something."
"Don't worry, Lydia," Cotton advised. "I'll have a party for her. Just as soon as I get her home."
The bumps from lying on the bottom of the trunk did not bother Jane, not now that she had just been saved by God's grace from the most dangerous situation she had ever been in. Reverend Salter was certainly a strange person but he seemed to be watching over her in his own way, and he had not been the one to try and rape her. She had been saved from that. Certainly there would not be another attack. She wasn't sure what was going to happen to her when they got back to Martinsville but she was certain that whatever it was would be an improvement over what she had already experienced. After all, she was wearing fresh clothing and he had let her get a little exercise. Maybe when they got back he would even give her something to eat. She was getting very hungry.
But she felt more tranquil now than she had felt since she had been taken prisoner. Certainly God would be merciful to her. Hadn't He already shown her His mercy? She would just put her fate in His hands and everything would work out. She lay back and tried to sleep. It was a long drive. Outside it would be dark---'as dark as it was in the trunk-and there was nothing to see. Perhaps when they got back to the church, things would be better for her.
Salter parked his car in the garage and listened to see if he could hear any noise from the girl. She had no way of knowing where they had stopped nor whether he was watching her or not. He wondered whether he should bring her first or the mattress. He decided on the mattress. If he let her out first, she would see it in the back seat of the car. Then she might panic. In fact, he was sure that she would. And out in the open it might be difficult to control her. Someone might hear them, or she might break away. It was better to leave her in the trunk for now and risk having her make a racket. He opened the back door of the car and pulled at the mattress.
It was an old one which Lydia had given him when he had explained how uncomfortable the girl was in the basement of the church, chained to the wall. Lydia had scolded him for leaving her chained too long. She told him that she never did that with her own girls, even when they got out of line. Twenty-four hours was about the longest she ever left a girl in bondage, and even that was only for a serious offense. But Cotton just laughed at her concern and told her that his girl was in better health-she could take more.
But he had said that now that the girl was deflowered, he didn't think that he had to keep her chained any more. She couldn't possibly break out of the small room where he would keep her and so he might as well give her a little freedom. He could enjoy her better that way. She wouldn't be so stiff every time he wanted to fuck her. So Lydia had given him a mattress. It was an old one, stained with piss and come. Cotton liked that part. She would hate to lie on it. But he would make her, over and over again until she finally got used to it. And then she wouldn't care. Not when he was finished with her. She wouldn't care about anything except getting his hard cockmeat between her legs.
He kicked the door closed and carried the mattress in. In the dark he found his way to the back door to the basement of the church, He was careful to watch if anyone might spot him. The sight of that mattress might raise a few eyebrows. But there was nobody around. There weren't even any cars passing by the rectory. That was always the way it was in Martinsville, even on a Saturday night. TV was the only big kick in Martinsville. TV and going to church. He let himself into the basement and dragged the mattress behind him.
With the inner room prepared for his visitor, Cotton Salter made his way back to the car. There was still no sign of life anywhere in the dark night. The girl had not raised a commotion. He carefully unlocked the trunk and lifted it. The girl was sound asleep. He wondered how she could be such a dumb bitch. She hadn't even tried to escape. She had just trusted that everything was all right now. He was eager as shit to show her she was wrong.
He prodded her with his finger and told her to climb out of the trunk. He helped her to the ground. He took her by the wrist and led her to the back of the church. She followed obediently. He had left the door open for her and she went right in. There was a candle already burning in the inner room and she found her way back to her prison. Cotton locked the doors behind them. In the inner room she immediately noticed the mattress. Her first thought was that he had done her a kindness, even though it was sort of dirty.
Cotton went around the room lighting candles as the girl watched him. "Do you like it?" he asked pointing to the mattress. "It's better than before anyway, isn't it?" he suggested. She admitted that it was. She thanked him for providing it. She would have asked for a blanket to go with it but she, didn't want to push her luck. If he wanted her to have a blanket she was sure that he would give one to her.
Cotton finished with the candles and opened the cabinet to look for his bottle. There was one on the bottom shelf but it was already empty. He remembered now that he had meant to get another. He was in too much of a rush to go back to the house for a drink and instead he reached for the case of beer he had brought in earlier and tore off a can from its plastic holder. He quickly ripped the aluminum tab off the top and took a long drink. When he lowered his hand again the can was empty. He dropped it on the floor and reached for another. He needed the drink to steady him. He had important work to do.
"Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" the minister suggested to his guest, pointing to the mattress. "Don't stand on ceremony. Have a seat."
She was happy to accept his offer for her legs were still weary. Yet when she bent over to sit down, she found that it was difficult to sit down without showing her panties. And with no crotch in them, she had to be very careful. Even though he had seen her already, maybe they could get off on a new foot. She didn't want to do anything to arouse his lust. Certainly that would be unfair. Finally she managed to sit with her feet curled up beneath her. She pulled down her skirt primly and watched him drink.
Cotton finished his third beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He was beginning to feel ripe and he wanted her now. Right on that mattress. And he was determined to take her. This time he decided to do it in style.
Cotton slipped out of his black clerical jacket and laid it on the floor by the wall. He unbuttoned his shirt carefully and laid it on top of the jacket. He saw that the girl's eyes were following him. He wondered just how long she could sit still while he was doing this. He slipped out of his undershirt and reached for his belt buckle. She could see now that he was going to take off his pants. Did she think that he was simply going to curl up beside her and go to sleep? She was really a stupid cunt, but then she couldn't do anything to save herself anyway. He thought of leaving the shoes and socks on but he wanted to be naked when he fucked. He stepped out of his trousers and pulled his boxer shorts down with them. She was still watching him. Perhaps she was relieved to see that he didn't have a hard-on.
Of course, that was only a temporary condition. He had been so intent on setting the mattress up for her and lighting the candles that he hadn't been paying attention to her body. But now he could relax and enjoy it. He decided that he deserved a little peek. He took his limp dick in his hand and gave it a little twirl. Even without any blood in it it still hung low. He knew that it fascinated her, even though she was trying not to look.
He slowly approached his victim. She did not yet understand the purpose of what he was doing. Could she really be so stupid? But then she didn't want to understand. She didn't want to realize that she was final1Y about to lose her cherry. He wasn't like that fat butterball in the whorehouse. Even if he came too soon he could spring another rod to split her cunt. As he drew closer to her he could see the tranquil look fade from her face. She was beginning to realize. She uncurled her legs and began to get to her feet. Cotton threw his full weight on top of her.
"No!" Jane cried, realizing that her peril was not over. "Stop!" she cried, as if words could stop him. Cotton grabbed her shoulders and slammed her down on the mattress. With the hard floor beneath it, the blow gave her a shock. She tried to scrawl off the mattress but he straddled her hips and grabbed her shoulders. Again he slammed her body against the mattress and she felt the floor at her back. The blow dazed her. His prick was getting hard now and he wasted no time. While she shook her head in an effort to gain her bearings, he quickly slipped back until he was kneeling between her legs.
He lifted her skirts to her waist and exposed her crotchless panties. The golden fluff was curling up through the hole in the black lace and he could barely see the pinkness of her inner cunt lips. Bending down, he caught her thighs with his forearms. He lifted her ass and pulled her to his mouth. He ate her crotch like a watermelon, with big slurping gulps. Spit drooled down his chin and down her inner thigh. He wasn't trying to be neat. This was to be a feast. He sucked and belched and nibbled some more. Jane struggled against him but with both her legs lifted high off the ground, there was nothing she could do. Every time she tried to hit him with her fist she simply bumped her head against the floor.
He sucked her until she was dripping with spit. He knew that her own cream would be dripping soon, too. He laid her down on her ass and jabbed her with his finger. He drove it in her cunt and felt it touch her cherry. He gave her a few sharp jabs to see what would happen. She screamed at him to leave her alone. He pulled his finger out again. It was time to use his cock.
He held his dong tight in his hand as he knelt between her legs. She was still squirming like shit but there was no place she could go. He would be on her in an instant. He guided the head of his prick to her dripping twat. He felt the silky smoothness as it slipped to her virgin hole. Slowly he lowered his weight on top of her. "No!" she cried as she felt him enter. "Oh, no, not that!" she begged. Her voice was getting weak. She had lost her will to resist. She knew she could not fight him. He could see the tears on her cheek. She was giving in to him but she was still unwilling. He pressed his cock deeper into her body. He felt the passage blocked. This was it. This was the final barrier.
It was almost a relief for Jane when it finally happened. Now there would be no more struggle. She could feel her twat opening wide to admit his swollen prick. She could feel her hymen blocking the passage, forcing him to stop for a moment. She felt his body lift off her for a moment. She sensed that he was readying himself for the final plunge. Then it happened. He drove into her. His cock pounded against her taut membrane with such a force that it shattered and let him pass. She could feel [him plunging into her untapped depths. She could feel her whole cunt opening up to take him. And then she had swallowed him up.
Cotton lay on top of her with his cock deep in her snatch. He had been successful. She was no longer cherry. Now the only test that remained was to see how she liked it. Her cunt had not been dry when he entered it. He wondered if she had realized just how eager her body was to make cream. He knew she would have been ashamed of herself if he could have dipped deep in her cunt and handed her a spoonful before he had stuck his dick in. Then she would have worried that it was her own fault that it had happened. But perhaps she realized it anyway. Her resistance had collapsed.
Cotton slowly drew his cock back, letting it glide out of her cunt. Slowly he went back down again, until he was deep inside her. He took cautious strokes. She was still tight and she had made him sore. Probably her twat was aching from what he had done. She would have time to get over it. But right now he was going to fuck her no matter what his dick felt like. He kept going in and out with the same steady rhythm. He looked at her eyes and saw they were blank.
It bothered him that she would not respond to what he was doing. He knew she was trying to shut him out. He knew that she was feeling something. She had shown already that she could respond. He had brought her to the depths of degradation. Now he had to bring her back. He had to teach her to enjoy it. That would be his next Christian act.
As he humped steadily on her box, his hand slipped inside the low neckline of her dress. The bra hardly covered her tits and his hand slipped inside a cup. He stretched his fingers down until he could touch a nipple. He pressed at it and pushed it back and forth until he could feel it get hard. He slipped the one hand out and the other hand in. He repeated the procedure with her other nipple.
But he was still not satisfied. He really wanted to turn her on. He wished now that he had removed her panties. He could feel the scratchy lace rubbing his prick. He reached beneath her. His hand grabbed her ass. He lifted her up a little to give himself a better angle. He started to fuck faster.
She didn't respond to the friction. Not at first. She was trying to lie there, like a dead fish. She didn't want him to know what he was doing to her. It would have been too humiliating. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself. She believed that she had done something to bring this on herself. Perhaps she had not been grateful enough to God for protecting her from the bald man. Or perhaps God had only been saving her for the minister! His cock fucked like a ramrod. She could feel the hot friction of each stroke. Her cunt was still tight but no longer because she was new. He was making her terribly tense and the tension made her body contract. She was doing just the opposite of what she should have done to discourage him, yet somehow she could not make her body behave.
She could not understand it. It was such a horrible thing! But yet her body seemed to want him. She seemed to want to wallow in the shame!
"Oh!" she moaned as she finally realized just how ripe and juicy her body was. Until this moment she had not noticed how aroused she already was. It came as a striking revelation to her that she could actually be prepared for such an assault. But he was fucking her too fast to give her time to think about it. She found herself rocking from side to side. She tried to tell herself that she was only doing it to escape him but in her heart she knew that it made the pleasure more intense. His hands held her ass up tight against his body. His hips were driving against hers. And yet Jane noticed none of it. She was aware only of the torrid bone in her snatch. She was aware only of the hot thrill it was causing her cunt and of her great desire for relief.
The minister's horny cockshaft was pounding her ass into his palms. Her sloppy cream was oozing from her cunt. His prick was covered with the clear mucus secretion and it was splattered in both their pubic hair. He kept fucking her. Harder and harder. He knew he was getting to her. It was just a matter of time. "Ahh!" the girl moaned in a suppressed cry. She was still trying to pretend she couldn't feel it. But the minister knew better. His cock was hard and long and as fat as a baseball bat. A cock like that just had to get a response. He fucked hard and deep. He fucked in quick jerky strokes. "Ohh!" Jane moaned much louder. "Oh, no . . . please. . . " His hips fucked faster. He was getting her there. "Ohh! Ohhh! LIKE THAT!" she screamed suddenly as his load exploded in her belly. Suddenly she was clutching him, raking his back with her fingernails. Her legs had wrapped around him and he was holding her whole weight in his hands. They became as one as his fuckpole pumped into her. He was filling her twat with his semen, filling it to perfection. And Jane was coming. Her body trembled and shook.
Cotton lay on top of the girl until he felt the tight spasms of her snatch subside. So he had brought her off. Well, that was really something! She wouldn't be so snotty with him now. Usually virgins didn't even come. He would tell her that to make her feel ashamed. He wanted her to know just how sinful her body was. Yes, she had enjoyed it. His cock always seemed to do that to them, those snotty little cunts who thought that their panties were so sacred. He liked the way they squirmed when he gave them a stab with his fat prong. And this one had been especially good. He would be sure to tell her. Slowly her arms fell to her sides. Slowly her hips relaxed against the mattress. He slipped his hands out from under her. He climbed up off her body. He looked back and down at her and saw that her eyes were shut.
But she was not asleep. Cotton knew that. She was only humiliated. Now she was trying to be penitent. They were always so damn penitent after they had been fucked. Especially when they enjoyed it as much as this one had. They always wanted to be forgiven. Her legs were still spread and he could see the first streaks of come oozing down from the tight-lipped twat but he knew she was praying. Tomorrow she would wonder what had caused the fresh stain on the mattress. They were all so stupid.
He had planned to go and get his pants but the sight of her was too delightful to just leave. He grabbed his limp prick in his hand and started to whack it. She saw what he was doing. She wasn't quite as out of it as she looked. She knew what it meant when he pulled it like that. His cock only got halfway hard, but it was enough for a start. "Okay, you little hot-cunted bitch. Now you're going to do it to me!'"
She looked up at him. She was totally defeated. He had complete power over her. There was no fight left in her. "Get up and then get on top of me when I lie down," he told her. Lifelessly, she got to her feet. Cotton lay on the mattress, being careful to avoid the wet spot. He stretched out on his back with his prick in his hand. He knew that it embarrassed her to see him playing with his dong. That was why he was doing it. Even though she'd already fucked it and sucked it, she was still ashamed. He would work that out of her, just as fast as he could. And working it out would be nice. Very nice indeed.
"Get on top of me," the minister ordered. He held his prick up for her to sit on.
"Do I have to?" she asked. There was no rebellion in her voice, only a pathetic hope that he might spare her. But of course he wouldn't. She should know better by now. Sometimes she really acted stupid. Just like her old man.
"It's your turn to fuck me," he told her firmly. "I'd advise you to do it. I think that you'll believe me when I tell you there are worse things that can happen to you than fucking me. Believe me, they will happen to you if you don't do as I say."
It was enough to convince her. She no longer had any fight. She walked closer to him and looked down at his naked body, lying on the mattress. His bone was still not erect. He was expecting her to take care of that for him. Well, she knew she would have to. She stepped onto the mattress and straddled his body. She tried not to think of what she was doing. "Squat down on me," he commanded and she did it blindly. She squatted and took his dick in her hand. She felt him reaching for her fussy. She didn't even care now that he was playing with her hairy gash. She was no longer embarrassed by it. Had the shame started to wear off! Perhaps she was just tired. She pulled his prick and felt it harden.
Her cunt opened and she was surprised how easily the cockmeat went in. Shouldn't it have been harder, considering she had been a virgin until so, so recently? But her body didn't seem to act that way. She was swallowing him up. She was taking him deep in her belly and she could feel the tender walls stretching to fit him all in. She was surprised at the willingness of her body. She hadn't thought it would have come so quickly. He reached up and grabbed her shoulders and pulled at her. She fell to her knees and tried to relax. He was pulling her forward, forward against his chest. Her hair hung down in her face and partly covered her shame.
Her ass sunk down on top of him until his prick had gone in all the way. She let herself sit on his hips, happy for a quick chance to relax. He was fondling her breasts, rubbing her nipples against his own. It was funny to feel it. His chest was so hairy. It made her tits very sensitive when he did it. So sensitive that she almost forgot the bone up her cunt. But a quick hump of his thighs reminded her. It felt like it was coming out her stomach. She tried to rise slightly so she wouldn't have to feel it quite as deep. But that didn't seem to be working.
He was following her right up. And she wasn't strong enough to stay suspended in' mid-air. She had to come down again. And when she came down, she came down on his cock. She felt her body flowing over it. She felt it pushing deep into her gut.
Her tits hung in perfect cones. He was still playing with them. But then he did something disgustingly unexpected. He grabbed her around the neck and pulled her face against his. Before she could pull away, she found herself being kissed on the lips. She was kissing his horrible whiskey-soaked breath, he was pushing his foul tongue in her mouth, she could taste his saliva mixing with hers.
His kiss did not have the effect that Jane would have expected it to have. She would have expected that she would be so disgusted that she would vomit from the stench of his mouth. Nothing like that happened. In fact, she found that he was actually giving her an illicit thrill. Perhaps she had been very prudish but no man had ever kissed her like that, even a man she liked. Having a man force himself on her was sort of thrilling. She liked the way that he was taking her. Of course, she didn't really like it, but it had an erotic fascination. Although she hadn't meant to do it, she found herself kissing him back.
She was kissing and fucking and rubbing her tits against him as she lay on top of his body. Who would believe it could ever happen to her? She would have been the last one. But there was something about the fact that nobody would ever know. That it was just between the two of them in this dark basement. Certainly he could never tell what he had done to anyone. In Martinsville he would have been shot. So her little secret was safe. She would try to pretend that he was her lover. That seemed to make it a little easier. And it made her feel nice too.
She relaxed a little and began to move her hips. She knew that was what he expected of her. He didn't even have to tell her that much. She began to move very slowly, unintentionally trying to make it last. She could not admit that her body could have such a need. It was too shameful to her. Yet she did want to feel it. That stiff prick up her cunt. She wanted to feel every inch of hot gristle rub every corner of her snatch. Slowly she started to move.
"Oh, that's so sweet," the minister moaned. "Oh, shit, you choirgirls have what it takes, give me more, baby, give me more!" Cotton continued to fondle her tits. They were very nice. She was so young and ripe. With nice little brown nipples that stood out in little bumps when they were aroused. And they were aroused now. They' would have to be. With his prick inside her, what girl wouldn't be?
He realized that she was drawing it out. That was a good sign. She liked what she was doing. Even though she tried not to let it show on her face. But gradually her straight face disappeared. Her horny lust appeared. Cotton decided to show her off a little. He started to pump his hips. His prick slid in and out of her humid pit. She, felt it and responded. Her thighs pumped over him. She was doing her work. It was just the way he had planned it, just the way he wanted her. She was still practically a virgin but she was aching to be fucked. She was aching for it so badly that she was doing it herself.
He could make it happen any time he wanted to, Cotton knew that much. It was just a matter of when he wanted; it and now he was beginning to feel the urgent need. Tomorrow he could fuck her again. He decided to cut it short. "Faster!" he told her. "Fuck me faster!" he cried, grabbing her shoulders and starting to move her body in the rhythm that he wanted. Jane responded. Perhaps she had been waiting for his command. Her body moved faster and her hair waved to and fro in front of her face. It didn't cover her lust. That was written all over her face. She was dying for his heavy load. She needed his hot come in her body. Cotton clung to her shoulders and flung it into her cuntmouth.
Jane Hartley rose slightly as she felt it splatter into her twat. It was warm and thick and exciting. It was just what she needed. She pushed her ass against his lap in an effort to get more. He gave another small squirt and then it was over. But already she had been filled. She could feel that now. As she slowly rose from off his 'body, she could feel the come swimming down her cunt. She knew it was going to run down her legs. Perhaps it didn't matter. She had already done so much. For a moment she stood over him. She didn't know what to do. He rose to his feet and gestured to the mattress. It was hers once again.
Jane Hartley sank to her knees as the full weight of her skin bore down on her. She had fucked a minister and enjoyed it. Could God ever love her again? Horrible thoughts of despair filled her mind. She saw that Cotton was getting into his pants. "Don't forget to say your prayers," he told her as he left.
Chapter 7
Cotton Salter buzzed his secretary on the intercom and told her that he would not be taking any more calls for a few hours. The secretary was due to go home in an hour so it wouldn't be any problem. And hell, the whole time he'd been in Martinsville, nobody had ever called him out for an emergency. He doubted that they would start with that shit now.
Cotton looked around carefully before opening the back door of the church. Nobody was around, at least nobody that he could see. Of course, if some casual observer saw him going down there, they probably wouldn't think anything of it. But somehow the wrong person might find out, and then if they saw him going there a second time someone might put two and two together, and besides, there were so few places in town that the girl could have gone. But it wasn't likely that anyone would think of the church.
He let himself in quickly and made sure that the door was locked behind him. From the dark passage he could see that there was a light burning in the inner room. Beneath the door there was a faint glow. He wasn't really surprised. He had left a whole shitload of candles in the room and one had been burning when he had left her the night before. If the kid was smart, and she probably was, she'd just keep one candle going for light and then when it was almost down, she could light another. He couldn't remember having left her any matches. But it was all right if she kept some light going in the room. It would give her a little heat too. It would make her prison a little more cheerful and so maybe she'd be in a better mood when he came in and fucked her.
"Jane. . ." the minister said, his voice very thick. "Let me get a drink," he said. He went to the case of beer and pulled out two cans. He opened them both and drank them, one right after the other. He tossed the empty cans aside and pulled out two more. Again he opened them both but he set one can down on the cabinet by the silver cross and contented himself to drink the remaining can more slowly this time. "Jane, I want to teach you something new today."
She looked at him with a suspicious eyes. Thus far in their relationship he had taught her nothing but evil. She suspected that today's lesson would bring no good for her. She hoped that he wouldn't hurt her. It had been nicer in the room now that she wasn't chained to the wall and even had a mattress to lie on and some clothes to wear. She hoped that he wouldn't do anything to spoil her few comforts. "What are you going to do?" she asked nervously.
"Have-you ever watched dogs fuck?" the minister asked her. Jane cringed as though he had slapped her face.
In fact, she had watched dogs do that, only she wouldn't have used the same word for it. Although she had never made a point of watching them when they were doing it, it had always seemed like a perfectly normal thing for dogs to do. Dogs had such a good sense of companionship with each other, and after all, dogs didn't get married like people. But she had never watched the mechanics of it. It had never been of interest to her. But now, with her experience of the day before to guide her, she understood just what it was that happened when a dog mounted a bitch. But for people to act like that . . . why, it seemed crude and shameful. After all, she wasn't a dog. Didn't he know that?
"Do you want to take your clothes off?" he offered. "I'm going to take mine off." He looked at her and knew that she didn't want to do this. But then he would just rip off her clothes and fuck her cunt anyway. It was up to her how she wanted it. "Well?" he asked her. "Are you going to undress or do you want me to undress you? It's up to you, but if you leave it to me . . . well, you'll never be able to wear those clothes again." He pointed to her dress. "Of course, maybe you don't mind running around bare-assed."
Jane remembered how little resistance she had been able to offer him when he had raped her the night before. She had not been able to stop him. She had been forced to lie with her legs parted and let him push his hard penis into her unwilling body. It would be the same thing today. She would not b6 able to fight him. She would only succeed in getting her dress ripped and her body bruised.
He was right about that. With a deep flush of embarrassment, Jane realized that she was going to submit. "I'll take my clothes off," she whispered, so softly that he could barely hear.
But Cotton knew what she was saying. He knew he had triumphed over her. Yesterday he had used force. Today he was doing it with words alone. He was training her, getting her to learn the ways. "Go ahead and undress," he told her. "I'm going to undress too."
Cotton didn't turn away from the girl the whole time that he was taking off his clothes. He didn't want to miss any of her gorgeous humiliation. Her cheeks had already reddened. As she reached behind her back for the zipper of the dress, she modestly lowered her eyes to the floor. She slid the zipper down and tugged at the skirts of the dress to pull them up her thighs. She felt his eyes on her as the crotch of her panties became visible, the crotch that didn't exist. She tried to pretend she was alone as she pulled the dress over her head. She stood for a moment in her bra and panties, then walked over to the cabinet and set the dress in front of the silver cross. She reached behind her back again and found the hooks of her bra. She unfastened them and slipped out of it. She set the bra on top of her dress and bent over to step out of her panties. She stepped back from the cabinet dressed only in her high leather boots. She decided to leave them on. He wouldn't hurt them and the floor was cold.
She tried to stand with one hand covering her pussy and an arm across her bosom but she realized that this only drew his full attention to these parts of her body. She dropped her hands in resignation. He was free to see what he wanted. She could not prevent him. He had won the right. She waited for him to finish taking off his clothes. She tried not to look at his prick. It would soon be inside her-whether she liked it or not.
"Get down on your hands and knees," Cotton ordered. Remembering what he had said about doing it like a dog, Jane sank down on the mattress and tried to assume the correct position.. Perhaps the only reason she had felt such a thrill the day before was because she had made up her mind to struggle. Perhaps if she simply submitted he would not be able to harm her. Perhaps he would only enter her body without being able to arouse her lust, the way he had been able to do before. She remembered how brave the Christian martyrs had been when they had faced the lions. They had kept their thoughts on God. Perhaps she could do the same. Then she wouldn't feel it.
Jane waited patiently, trying not to think of what was about to happen. She felt him spreading her legs a little wider apart. Then he was kneeling between them. Something hard and long brushed against her thigh and she knew it was his penis. Quickly she tried to think of something else. But his cock popped between her legs and rose up against her naked belly. Looking up under her body she could see the blunt head. She tried to tell herself that Jesus loved her, that she would be protected. Cotton reached around her and cupped her bare tits.
"Nice little jugs you've got," he said, admiringly. "Feel good when I do that?" Although she was trying to keep her thoughts pure, Jane couldn't help feel the tingling sensation when he squeezed her nipples. She knew that they were quickly getting hard, the way that they always did when they were stimulated. She tried not to think about it and concentrate on the love of God. "How's your cunt today?" the minister asked. "Not too sore, I hope," he asked in mock sympathy. "Maybe we can bore it out a little," he suggested. "I've got just the thing to do it."
Jane could feel him groping between her legs. She knew that he was getting his cock in position. She felt the shaft of his prick rubbing through her furry snatch and into the groove between the cuntlips. She was trying to control her thoughts but when his cock slid over her clitoris something snapped in her head. She felt a hot stabbing jolt of electricity shoot through her body, charging her and making her tremble. He pulled back his cock and slid it through her cunt lips again. He was aware of what it was doing to her. He did it a third time and she couldn't help herself. She cried out in anguish.
"Ohh! Please don't do' that to me!" she asked. But it wasn't what she meant at all. Both of them knew that, even though she was trying hard to pretend. His prick was awakening a horny lust from deep inside her soul. Each time his dick touched her little cuntbutton flames tore against her inner thighs. Her cunt ached and struggled to release its creamy response. She could feel it filling with the clear liquid which would guide his way. "Ohh . . . Reverend Salter. . . I can't think straight when you do that!" she pleaded.
But Cotton Salter hardly cared whether she could think straight or not. All he was interested in was getting her cunt wet enough so he could slip his dick in without making it sore. He slid the shaft through the groove a few more times until he could feel her wetness sopping the shaft. Then he drew back. He cocked his hips and pointed the head. He poked it up against the passage he had violated the day before. He felt the cream oozing out and wetting the head of his prick. She was really getting into it, no matter what she tried to tell herself. He jabbed at her with his cock. Her twat opened up. He was slipping it to her. He was slipping in deep.
Jane Hartley moaned again as he bored down her twat. Her body seemed to be so sensitive. She couldn't shut out the stimulation. There was nothing she could do to shut off the generous flow of cream that flowed in her snatch. Her body was giving him an open invitation and all she could think about was what was happening between her legs.
Cotton fucked her leisurely. He was in no hurry. In fact, all he was interested in was making sure that she was willing, that her cunt was ripe, and that his dick would slide nicely. He would work her like this for a while, until her secretions came down in thick creamy globs. Then he would show her another trick. He knew she would hate it.
Jane groaned when the minister's prick slipped loose from her twat. Although she knew that she should be grateful that it happened-and she quickly thanked God for the moment of deliverance-she knew that she actually missed the hot friction of his prick. She could actually feel herself working up to an orgasm and she desperately struggled to find some way to continue where he had left off. She squeezed her legs together and tried to drive the lips of her twat tight against her clit. It didn't work. She thought for a moment of reaching up with her hand and actually playing with herself, but the minister was shifting position. He was about to do something else. She paused to see what was going to happen.
The minister's prick poked against the crack in her ass and Jane wanted to tell him that he should calm down. He squirmed again and the full length of the shaft slapped against her fanny. It was a funny sort of feeling, to have his prick back there. But now he was taking it in his hand, guiding it again. Jane stiffened her thighs in anticipation. The minister jabbed. But his prick missed her deep, wet cunt. His prick missed the creamy wet twat that was so eager to take him. Instead the blunt head of his cock banged against her asshole. "Oh! You're in the wrong place!" Jane cried in alarm, although she was surprised to hear her own words. The minister was not listening.
His cock banged against her again and this time she realized that what was happening was no mistake. He was trying to bore into her backside, into the tight brown aperture from whence she shat. Jane Hartley squirmed and struggled and even reached between her legs to try to grab his cock. But he held it firmly in his hand. He held the head firmly on her asshole. He was pushing against her, pushing with a terribly urgent pressure. She could feel the slick wetness of his cockhead, the wetness of her cunt. He pushed at her again and Jane could feel a sharp pain as her bottom started to open up.
"Oh, God!" Jane cried as she tensed every muscle in her body. She was struggling to keep him out of that immodest hole. "Ohh!" Jane cried again as she felt him pushing harder. Her body was slowly opening, slowly receiving his fat shaft. Although nature had never intended such a combination, Reverend Salter was shoving his dick up her ass!
If it hadn't been for the pain in her backside, Jane would not have believed that such a thing was possible. But she could feel him going into her, just like a big shit. Her tight anus was spreading apart, her rectum was filled with throbbing meat. She braced her body against the mattress. It was all she could do to keep from falling forward on her face. She was scared to move with the minister inside her. She was terrified that he would rupture her body. He was boring in so hard and deep and hammering away at her ass in little jerks.
His bone disappeared inside her. It was an amazing sight. Jane couldn't help looking between her legs to see what had happened. All she could see was the minister's balls. His prick was buried in her asshole. It was all the way up inside. She squeezed her anus tight and felt a little sensation as the tender' opening signaled its intense pleasure. She remembered how it sometimes felt when she was on the toilet. Of course, that was a private matter, something she would never discuss with anyone. But at times it did give her a nice feeling when she ejected her daily waste. It was feeling like that now, only a dozen times more intense. She had never realized just how sensitive that part of her body could be. Nor how aroused it could make her when stimulated.
The minister rested deep inside her. Jane did not try to move. She waited to see what he was going to do. And the feeling was so exciting! She was ashamed to show what it was doing to her. It was such a disgusting thing. And yet it was so delightful. She just couldn't understand.
The minister did not seek understanding. Cotton Salter was satisfied to let his prick be his guide. Jerking his cock in her ass felt good. So he went ahead and did it. He took short strokes so he wouldn't rip her up too badly. He fucked her gently, letting her get the hang of it. He was surprised to see her reaction. Lots of girls cried out in pain when he did this to them. But this one was different. At first Cotton couldn't believe it himself. But he carefully observed the signs. He couldn't deny what he saw. The girl actually liked it! She liked it up the ass! Just the thought of it almost made him come. His prick burned with lust. His hips swung into motion and he began to pump.
His alcoholic belly banged on her lean back as his groin bumped against her butt.
He jabbed in and out of her asshole, feeling the tightness of her taut opening all the time. That made it better. It was nice when it was tight. But he couldn't take much of this backside fucking, not when she was so tight and dry, not when her ass was grabbing him and struggling to squeeze the come from his prick. She probably didn't even realize that she was doing everything just right. Her body was making it good for him, just the way he had wanted. And now . . . with only a few more humps. .. He knew it would happen. He stopped trying to hold it back and just let it happen.
"Ahhh!" Jane Hartley cried in an unrestrained shout as come gushed into her bowels. How many feet of intestines were there between her asshole and her stomach? She felt that it would go all the way. She could feel the warm spurt charging through her body. Her cunt twitched and ached as if to demand something of its own. She balanced her weight on her forehead and reached between her legs. Quickly she found her clit and rubbed it. She didn't care what he thought anymore. She had simply stopped caring. But that itch between her legs just had to be satisfied. She rubbed and shook and jabbed at the button. She felt herself coming as his cock spurted again. She could feel his come leaking out of her asshole as her body finally exploded. She closed her eyes tight and felt the orgasm sweep over her. Her head pressed against the mattress. Her finger froze to her clit. The minister's dick was slipping out of her, but it didn't matter any more. She was going off in all directions. She was coming hard. "Oh, God!" she moaned. And then it was all over.
Cotton was still resting on his knees when he looked at the girl and saw that she was staring at his prick. He looked down himself and saw what had caught her eye. "Well?" he demanded. "Never seen your own shit before?" His dick was streaked with the walnut-colored fudge. His question embarrassed her. Maybe next time he would give her an enema first. But that would embarrass her even more. "If you' don't like it, why don't you clean it up for me?" he suggested. Their eyes met. He knew she wanted to say something but it was all too shocking for her. "Use what's left of that slip," he told her, pointing to the slip she had been wearing on the day he imprisoned her.
She was too defeated to argue or question why. She arose and went to get it. Reverend Salter waited patiently for her as she returned and knelt before him. Carefully, trying not to get any on her hands, she wiped him off. She was very thorough. She kept shifting the slip in her hand, finding clean spots on it, and making sure that she got every trace of brown off his prick. "Wipe your ass when you're finished," Cotton told her.
Chapter 8
Thursday was a drag for Salter, he had to work all afternoon. Every time his thoughts wandered to the girl in the basement and his cock began to swell, the goddamn phone rang and some old biddy began pestering the shit out of him about giving some damn blessing or another to a charitable function. Why in hell did they always need a minister for that shit? Christ, those old crows couldn't fart without getting the minister's blessing first. As far as he was concerned, they could all go fuck themselves, but he knew that he had a job to do. He had to help them save their silly souls. That was what kept the money coming in. And Cotton never forgot it.
So Jane had to wait. She had to lie alone on her narrow mattress while her protector answered the phone and gave shitty advice to people who wouldn't follow it anyway. By the time that the phone finally stopped ringing and the last freaky sinner had left his office it was almost five o'clock. Cotton suddenly realized that he was starved.
Being too hungry to wait around while he fixed his dinner for himself, and being in too much of a rush to get something down at the diner where it took them twenty minutes to cook something that came out looking like a dog turd, he decided that he'd make it to the drive-in and pick up a bucket of chicken. Maybe he'd even take one to that twat in the basement. Come to think of it; he hadn't given her anything to eat since he'd locked her down there. Nothing to speak of anyway, even though she did have the beer. She hadn't drank much more of that. Not after she peed in her pants.
There was another good reason for going down to the drive-in. There was a cute little piece-of-ass carhop working there, one of the girls who was in the choir. Debbie something-or-another. He didn't know her name. But he remembered her body. Nice tits and a good ass. It would be something for him to look at while he waited for the chicken. Maybe someday he could grab her, too. Only he had the feeling that she wasn't a virgin. Not by a long shot. Of course, that didn't mean that she wouldn't squeal a little to get balled by a minister. It was funny the way that clerical collar seemed to flip out the chicks. It got them almost as crazy as his prick.
As he pulled into the drive-in, he noticed Joe Hartley's Cadillac already parked. As he flashed his headlights to get attention, he saw Debbie carrying a tray in the direction of the Caddie. He watched her as she hung the tray on the door and managed to shove her tits at Joe through the open window. He .didn't miss the quick motion of Hartley's hand as he grabbed a quick feel off the kid. And the girl was eating it up. He didn't miss that shit either. Joe had something going here and perhaps he should make it his, business to find out. The girl was the first to catch sight of him and she must have tipped Hartley off because he turned quickly to see for himself. The girl must have told him he'd been caught in the act.
"Good evening, Mr. Hartley," Cotton Salter called to him. "Lovely evening, isn't it?" he said politely. "Are you still worried about your daughter?" he added sarcastically. Debbie had already hurried back to her work.
Joe Hartley knew that the minister had seen him grabbing the kid's tits but he was damned if he was going to say he was sorry or anything. That black-panted bastard could think what he wanted. But he knew that it was bad to be seen groping a tit off a young kid when his own daughter might be in serious trouble. The fact that he had been caught made Joe mad.
"Good evening to you, Reverend Salter," Joe said politely, hoping that the minister would leave before he got indigestion from looking at him. Debbie was going over to his car now and taking his order. He was willing to bet that Salty would just love to get his hands on. the girl's tits. Probably that stiff-collared bastard whacked off three times a night. Well, he didn't have to talk to the minister. He turned back to eat his meal. He heard the minister order two buckets of chicken to go and wondered who he would be eating with. Probably he had some whore shacked up outside of town. That would be just like a minister. Debbie brought the chicken and the minister paid for it. She gave him his change and again he turned to the Cadillac. "Good night, Mr. Hartley," he called as he started his engine. "I hope that the Lord will save you from temptation," he said, nodding slightly in Debbie Johnson's direction. Fuck you, Joe Hartley thought but the minister was already pulling away.
The dog had been running loose in the back yard all afternoon and he came out to greet his master as Cotton pulled into the driveway of the rectory. Cotton had to hold the chicken away from him and the beast kept jumping up and trying to grab at it. "Down," Cotton commanded but the dog had no discipline. He gave it a kick in the ribs. The dog howled and moved away. Cotton thought of going in the kitchen to eat but decided that he wanted company. Shit, she could watch him. He had a handkerchief to wipe the chicken grease off his hands. Or perhaps he would make her lick his fingers off . . . or perhaps he would make her lick his cock!
He was suddenly struck with one of his occasional inspirations which almost made him believe in the power of the Creator. All he needed was a chair. There was an armchair in the little sanctuary of the rectory. It was heavy as shit but if he made two trips he could do it. Perhaps he could take the chair first and then the chicken. And perhaps he would even let the dog come along. He remembered someone telling him once that you weren't supposed to give chicken bones to a dog. They splintered when the dog chewed them. A chicken bone could kill a dog and he had just the dog that needed killing. Of course he would leave it all in the hands of God. Wasn't that what a minister was supposed to do?
Jane was glad to see him. She could not hide the fact. Of course, she had been alone all day and anyone would have made better companionship than her own troubled soul. When she saw the chair she immediately thought that he was trying to make her more comfortable. That would be okay for her to think. He watched her look at the chair and recognize where it had come from. She would be hesitant to sit on such a holy chair. She would think that she was unworthy. Maybe he would sit in it for her and cut a few farts. He wasn't sure what would get to her more, the sacrilege or the smell. He left her with a single candle burning and went back for the chicken. Inside the rectory he made sure that he had a clean pair of pants for the next day. The ones he had on might be a little messy before the evening was over. On the way out the door, he stopped and grabbed a delicate hand-carved end table from beside the sofa. He would make use of that too.
Inside the tiny basement room, Cotton proceeded to light some more candles. He noticed that they were running low and he would have to remember to get some more from the church. Maybe he should have the secretary order some more. He set the chair where there would be plenty of light and put the end table beside it. He was all ready for his banquet, provided he could keep the dog away long enough to finish eating. He gave the hound another kick which sent him whimpering to the corner. He ripped the top off the case of beer and pulled out the last six-pack He set the beer down on the end table next to the chicken. He saw the girl's eyes follow the chicken. It had been so long since she had eaten.
Cotton made himself comfortable in the armchair and ripped the cardboard top off the first bucket of chicken. He tossed the top to the girl. "You can have this if you want," he joked. She did not pick it up. He pulled a leg from the basket and started to eat it. "Hungry?" he asked her as she watched him. She nodded her head. "How badly do you want something to eat?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders. He realized that despite her moral courage, her body was weak. "Want some of mine?" he asked. "You hive to suck my cock first."
She had known that there would be a catch and his words hardly surprised her. What surprised Jane was how desperately she wanted to eat. She had never known the sight of food to have such a profound effect on her. She stared at the bucket. The smell of chicken had already filled the room. She could feel her parched mouth watering. She climbed up on her hands and knees. "I'd like some. . ." she told him. "Please give me some chicken."
"I. will, dearest, I'll give you a whole bucketful. You see that bucket, don't you?" He pointed to the second bucket he had brought. "That's for you, Jane, but first I want to give you a little appetizer. . . something good. Meat, Jane, raw meat. With lots of protein, ninety percent, they say. I'm sure that you'll like it. You've tasted it before. Only last time 1 had to force it down your throat, didn't I? Tonight I think that you'll eat it all by yourself. Anyway, it's up to you. Do what you want. But if you want the chicken, you know how to get it. Need I say more?"
The minister sat back in his chair and made a rather extensive production out of licking all the meat off the leg before tossing the bone to the floor. Jane looked at it but knew it would not be adequate. She didn't bother to pick it up. She looked instead at the minister's lap. Did he expect her to do it to him while he was eating? He was opening a can of beer and some of it spilled down the front of his black shirt. He didn't seem to mind. He was having a feast and she was to be part of it. That was his plan. And Jane knew that he had won again.
"Take your dress off first," the minister advised as she got to her feet. She shot him a hateful look but knew that she was powerless to disobey. "We don't want you to get it messy," he warned. "After all, that is your party dress," he said, reminding her of her trip to Lydia's. She didn't answer him but simply obeyed. She left the dress on the mattress and slowly approached him. Her white flesh was gloriously bright against the black of the boots, bra and panties. Her golden cunt hair peeked through the front of her crotchless panties.
Cotton Salter spread his legs apart and reached for another piece of chicken. His hands were already greasy but he didn't care. With his other hand he lifted a can of beer to his lips. He drank and chewed as he watched the girl.
She was going down on her knees. It was the only way she could manage. Her eyes kept going to the bucket of chicken on the end table and Cotton smiled. He would give it to her in awhile, after she had had her little treat. Jane's forearms rested against his thighs. She balanced herself between his legs. She looked at the front of his pants. Perhaps she had expected him to be hard. "You'll have to get it up first," Cotton smiled. "But I'm sure you won't have any trouble." Jane looked at him with disgust. Cotton took another bite of the chicken. She found the zipper of his pants and pulled on it. The zipper came down and she could see the white underpants beneath his black trousers. "Don't be afraid," he told her as she stared at his open fly. "Go ahead and grab it," he ordered. Jane raised her hand and reached inside the minister's open fly. She could feel his cock beneath his underpants but she had to fumble for another moment before she could find the fly to his underpants. Then her fingertips felt the rough curls of the pubic hair. She was reaching into his crotch. She ran her fingers down through the tangle. She could feel his limp dong.
She had to force herself to take hold of it. It was repulsive to her. But the smell of the chicken was strong motivation despite all her pure intentions. She drew his prick out of his pants.
"Get my balls out, too," he advised.
Jane fumbled again until his wrinkled nuts fell into his lap. His cock hung limply down over them. She wasn't sure what to do next. He wasn't aroused. "Put it in your mouth," Cotton said.
She didn't want to do it. It would be wrong for her to deliberately arouse his lust. Why was he forcing her? Did he really have such an urgent need? The other day she had understood. He had not been able to control his mad lust. He had come to her with a hard-on and sought relief. But today he was perfectly content. He had food and drink and all that he needed to satisfy himself. He did not need her. He was only doing this for the pure pleasure of seeing her humiliated! He was only doing it as a game. Yet it was such a dreadful thing. And he was hardly even paying attention to her. That made it worse. She had to go through the whole thing herself without being guided step-by-step.
"Don't keep me waiting," the minister warned.
Jane lowered her head to his lap. Without looking up to see if he was even watching, she opened her mouth and placed his penis inside it. He was shrunken up to almost nothing and she was able to get his balls in too. She rolled them around in her mouth, licking at them with her tongue. She licked and sucked and fondled his prick with her lips. Nothing was happening. He wasn't even getting hard. She started to pull away from him, to ask him what was wrong, but he caught her head with his greasy hand and pressed it back to his crotch. "Just keep sucking," he advised.
Jane did as he said. She didn't try to stop again. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him taking piece after piece out of the first bucket of chicken. She was afraid that he would finish it and start on the second. She didn't want that to happen. Perhaps if she could only get him aroused. . . She kept sucking to get his dick hard. She clamped her lips down tight on it and tickled his balls in her hands. She remembered what he had done to her rear end and how nice it had felt. She reached under his ass and poked a fingertip against his asshole. Cotton grunted approvingly and flung another chicken bone onto the floor. He belched and stretched and she heard the pop of another beer can being opened. Then she felt something else. His prick was starting to get hard.
With the chicken almost gone and his belly almost full, Cotton began to take more of an interest in the girl between his legs. He looked down and watched the way her golden mane fell over her shoulders. Even though she didn't have a brush with her she had somehow managed to keep it straight. Looking down the front of her bra, he could see all but the nipples of her tits. The bra held her jugs firmly in place for his inspection. Today it was enough to simply look at her. He could fondle her body later but for now he was content to sit and eat and have his joint sucked. Beer and chicken and the girl's lips around his cock was the perfect combination.
His prick stiffened as he watched her. He was still holding a chicken breast in his fingers but now he hardly paid attention to it. He set down the can of beer he had been holding in his right hand and again put his hand on her head. He felt the softness of her hair, even though he was matting it with his greasy hand. He held his hand steady and let her head bob back and forth beneath it. His prick was standing up straight now and he knew she was trying to make him come as fast as she could, but Cotton was in no hurry. He was content to have her lips sucking up and down on his dick while he sat and watched. She was his harem slave, a slave who was forced to do his bidding. He liked that part. Perhaps he would keep her around. After a while everybody in Martinsville would have forgotten about her. There was no reason why he couldn't keep her here forever.
Cotton took another sip of beer and looked up at the ceiling. This was the life! He had never really thought that the ministry would be like this, not when he started. Then, all he'd known was that he could talk to people and they believed him and he could make money off the whole thing. Now he was finding that there was more than just money in this profession. Why, there were some other rather substantial benefits. Why, how many people would a dumb bitch like the Hartley girl have ever trusted? Only her minister! Cotton looked down on her again. Her spit was dribbling down his cock. He could feel it tickling his balls and he knew that she was really trying to do her best. And she was putting the grip on him in just the right places. She was giving him a good blowjob. Later he would tell her just how good she had made it. But now he didn't want it to go to her head.
Cotton Salter continued to eat his chicken until the bucket was empty. Looking around for something to wipe his hands on, he settled for his pants. With the chicken fat off his hands, he reached for another beer. He noticed that it was the last one left of the six-pack he had set on the end table. Perhaps he could make it last. He was already feeling pretty good from the others. Now he settled back and made himself comfortable. He stretched his legs out in front of him. The girl was still bobbing her head over his dick but she didn't realize that there was nothing she could do until he cooperated. Now he was getting ready to cooperate.
His prick was long and hard and wet with her saliva. Her face had a weary look of resignation as she patiently, sucked his prick. She probably thought that she would never get the chicken, that he would never come. But he was not about to disappoint her. In fact, the time was getting near. His prick was growing more sensitive. . . and his need more urgent. He guided her head with his hand, just to keep it going. His eyes again fell on her creamy-white tits. The sight of them did something for him. They made him want to fuck her, right in the mouth. His ass rose up and he thrust his cock deeper into her mouth. He held her head so she could not escape. He gave her a mouthful of gristle. Her tongue struggled to lick him. He could feel himself coming. He clutched her head and jerked it. He felt his balls explode.
A curious look spread across Jane's face as the minister's come shot into her mouth. There was disgust and repulsion, mingled with hate. But there was something more, something which the minister had already sensed. There was a look of hot sensuality, a look that told him of the erotic pleasure she was experiencing, of the forbidden delight she had just tasted. Jane Hartley was a cocksucker, deep down in her heart. Although they had taught her that everything about sex was wrong, her body denied it and craved for horny thrills. Jane Hartley was gobbling his load and it was making her cream in her pants.
The minister held her head until he no longer had use for her. Releasing her from his grip, he took another swallow of beer. "You can have the chicken now," he told her without feeling. She had drained the excitement from his balls. She turned to look at the full bucket. He could see the embarrassment on her face. She didn't know quite what to do with what was in her mouth. "You can spit it out if you want," he said. Next time he could make her swallow it.
Jane eagerly did as he suggested. Only she didn't know quite where to spit. Cotton suddenly got an idea; He would change his original plan. He had been too generous to her, of course, he wouldn't go back on his word. "Hold it a moment," he told her, reaching for the new bucket of chicken. He ripped off the top and flung it to the floor. He held the cardboard bucket between his legs. "Spit it in here!" he gleefully ordered. Jane froze. "Do as I tell you!" the minister warned, like an angry parent scolding a naughty child. She hung her head over the bucket and closed her eyes. Her mouth opened and his clammy white load slid out. It drooled down over the chicken, coating it like a sauce. "You can eat it now," the minister told her. He could see that she was no longer quite as hungry .
But she took it anyway. It was the only food she would get. She took it and went back over the her mattress and sat down with it while he continued to watch her. She hesitantly reached for a piece which had escaped the minister's addition.
"Hey, dog, chow now!" Cotton Salter called to the animal who had been lying in the corner.
Before Jane Hartley understood what was happening the hound was on her. The basket of chicken was knocked out of her hand and the dog was pawing at it. He was hungry, too! He was eating her food! "No! That's mine!" she cried at the animal. But he would not listen. She quickly realized that if she wanted her supper she was going to have to fight for it. She was going to have to fight the dog!
"No, doggie! What's his name? Oh, doggie, don't eat that! That's mine!" she cried, trying to push the animal away from the chicken which was now scattered across, the floor. She saw that she couldn't budge the animal and that her only chance was to get to the chicken before he did. She quickly started grabbing pieces off the floor. Each time she, grabbed for one, the dog dropped the piece he had been chewing and went for the piece which she was grabbing. She found that she had to pick up some of the pieces which the dog had actually chewed. Not knowing what else to do with the pieces she gathered up, she tried to stuff them into the scanty cups of her bra and into her panties.
Jane ended up with about half the chicken from the bucket. The dog had the rest. While the dog retired to his corner to eat what he had gotten, Jane quickly devoured the pieces she had saved. She was afraid that as soon as the dog was finished with what he had, he would come and try to take what she had. She knew that she would have to eat quickly, she would have to stuff herself. Otherwise she would end up going hungry. She sat down on the mattress and hurried through her meal.
Although she had saved six big pieces of chicken, they didn't last long. Without bothering to wipe them off, she popped them into her mouth, one after the other, and chewed until every bit of meat was gone from the bone. When she finished, her fingers were covered with grease. She licked them and tried to clean them up a little. She sat watching the dog. He was eating more slowly and she had an impulse to go over to him and try to grab some of his bones away from him. But she was afraid that it might not be a good idea. The dog was very greedy and probably he was jealous of what he had. He might even try to bite her. She sat on the mattress, drooling as she watched him. Perhaps she was becoming an animal, too.
The dog finished his last bone and abruptly turned aside. He sniffed the air and at first Jane thought that he was looking for more food. But the dog was full. Now he was sniffing for something else. Just as the minister had enjoyed a treat after his meal, now the dog wanted to imitate his master. Jane saw that he was sniffing in her direction. She remembered how nasty he had been to her before. Perhaps he was sniffing for the same thing now. She tried to sit with her legs together.
The dog turned away from his meal and padded over to the mattress. "Nice doggie," Jane said as he poked his nose in her face. She patted him on the head and hoped that he would leave her and go to his master. She wondered if perhaps she should put her dress back on to discourage him.
But the dog didn't give her time. Before she could rise to her feet and grab it, the dog had leaped up on her back. "Down!" she cried angrily as the dog's legs locked to her thighs. His paws were scratching her belly. Quickly, she walked away from him to shake him loose but the dog clung to her and danced along behind her. Realizing that she couldn't shake him loose this way, she turned to face him. The dog's paws dropped but now his muzzle was between her legs. He was goosing her crotch, poking his wet nose into the hole of her panties. "Ohh!" she squealed as he poked against her clit. A sharp thrill shot through her loins. She squirmed away angrily. Had she become so degraded that even a dog could make her horny?
The minister grinned at her as Jane got her answer. Although she kept squirming away from him, the beast did not become discouraged. He pawed at her panties' and sniffed her ass. Jane Hartley twisted and turned in a frenzied effort to shake the animal loose but he kept coming after her. He was nipping at her panties, actually tearing them from her body! She smacked him on the nose and he barked at her, but to the dog it was just a game. There was no place she could go in the tiny room to get away from him but she continued to twist and turn. Her foot struck against the side of the mattress and it caught her off balance.
She fell sideways but was able to land on the mattress so she didn't hurt herself. She started to get to her feet, getting first to her hands and her knees. The dog was behind her. He leaped forward. Again his paws wrapped around her body but this time she felt something between her legs. The dog had a hard-on! He was poking it at her! "Oh no, doggie," Jane exclaimed but she hardly expected him to listen. The nasty animal continued to poke it frantically between her legs. She knew what he was seeking. She couldn't believe that a dog could do it like that, not a girl. But obviously the beast didn't know that.
At first Jane was simply alarmed and embarrassed but hardly afraid. There was no doubt in her mind now that the touch of the animal between her legs could arouse her-it had already done that-but aside from the humiliation of creaming for a dog, there was not much that the animal could do to her. Perhaps he would come on her belly, like the man in the whorehouse. That would upset her but after everything that had happened to her, it was hardly the worst fate she had suffered. Even when the dog's prick pushed against her cunt she hardly thought that she had anything to fear.
But the dog was more experienced. His master had taught him well. With his victim down on her hands and knees, he drove his thighs up against hers and his brisket pressed against her back. His prick was jabbing wildly against her thighs and belly but he was getting it under control. He knew just where he wanted it, right between her legs. Jane cried out in amazement as she felt the canine cock poking against the opening of her cunt. He was long and hard like a man and he had the same desire. "Oh, don't do that!" she cried out in sudden panic. The dog was starting to fuck her.
The head of his cock was small and pointed and he went in her easier than the minister had ever done it. But inside her it seemed to expand! It had jabbed her like a pencil and then swollen to a post! It had poked deep inside her and expanded until it filled her walls. "Ahh!" Jane gasped as the dog jerked his hips frantically behind her. She could feel his paws trembling. His muzzle was touching her back and she could hear his hot panting in her ear. It was an indescribable sensation, to be dog-fucking with a dog. Her cunt was alive and quivering despite her shock. His lean body was strong and hard and his energy was overwhelming. He was fucking in and out of her and her juices were flowing. Perhaps they had been flowing before he had mounted. Perhaps that was what he had sniffed! Jane couldn't help feeling that it was all her own fault. Blowing the minister had gotten her aroused.
But now there was only the dog to think about, the dog whose hot body was pressing against her back. His paws were still around her. His body was still shaking. But now she could feel her own body trembling. She had to do something to respond! She could feel the craving deep in her cunt. She could feel her urgent desire for satisfaction. She certainly could not be angry at the animal for what was happening. He was only a dog, he didn't know any better. But perhaps she was a dog too. Her body seemed to want him. She liked what he was doing to her! She didn't want him to stop. "Oh, oh, oh . . . " she panted as his prick fucked in and out. "Oh, doggie... doggie. . . fuck me," she whispered. The words just slipped out of her mouth.
And the dog was fucking her, fucking her for all he was worth. His cock was as red as a pepper. She could see it when she looked up under her belly and between her legs and it was slick with her fuck juice. "Fuck me, doggie," she cried a little louder. She had forgotten about the minister. "Oh, doggie, I need you!" Her whole body was aching with lust. She threw her head back and let her blonde mane fall across the dog's muzzle. Her jaw dropped open as she gasped for breath. She raised herself high on her stiff arms. She puckered her ass and tightened her cunt. Her tits were shaking with every breath that she took. The dog gave a sudden lurch forward as he came. "Ahhh. . . Yesss . . . Oh how I love to fuck!" Jane squealed. She could feel his cum shooting like a firehouse. "Fuck me, doggie, fuck me harder!" she begged. The dog trembled and flung another load up her cunt. "Don't stop, doggie, don't stop fucking!" she panted. "Oh, don't ever stop. . . No, doggie, I want you, ohhh!"
She turned and saw the minister watching her. For a moment she hesitated. Then, with a strange expression on her face which surprised even Cotton Salter, she opened her mouth again.
"Ohhh . . . Yessss . . . I want it!" she groaned, but then her words choked off. Her cunt had finally pulled the trigger. Her body stiffened as she came off.
It took her a few moments to recover from what had happened. "My God," she said suddenly. "I just fucked the dog!" The minister smiled at her. It was the moment he had been waiting for.
"I guess it's my turn now," he told her. "Unless you'd rather have the dog again." She didn't answer him. She was overcome by what had happened. She had never believed that she could become so depraved. And how she had loved it! What was happening to her to make her feel like that? She saw Salter had his prick out again. "How do you want it this time, my dear?" he asked. From the way that he said it, she knew that it didn't matter to him, one way or the other. She didn't have to say anything. He would decide for himself. Was there anything he could make her do that would be repulsive to her now.
Once again, Cotton was able to fool her. "Stay there, on your hands and knees. You can lick my ass and play with my balls." For a moment she didn't think that she was hearing correctly. Then the minister stood in front of her with his back to her. He dropped his pants. He stood bare-assed and pushed his hairy moon into her face.
She would have pulled away from him but she could feel the dog behind her again. The dog was licking her leg, the way dogs will do, but he was licking dangerously close to her cunt. She knew what he was licking for. It was only a matter of time before the wet tongue licked right between her legs. And the minister's ass, it was right in her face! She couldn't ignore it. Without thinking she had the stupid idea that if she buried her face where the minister wanted her to, she wouldn't feel what the dog was doing behind her.
She did it quickly, so she wouldn't flinch. He spread his cheeks for her and she closed her eyes as she pushed her face between them. She licked without looking .but she couldn't help feel the hole with her tongue: She licked frantically without being careful about what she was doing. It was as if the faster she went, the more he would forget about her and simply leave her alone. But it didn't happen that way. He cautioned her to slow down. He told her she would have to look what she was doing. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into his wringled brown asshole.
It was horrible to look at. Through the hair at the bottom she could see his balls, and the heavy prick hanging down limply over them. He told her to touch them and she did. She did it as if she was in a trance. He told her to lick and she licked. She licked around the edge of the opening. He told her to put her tongue right in the middle of it. She did that too. She licked until she could feel her tongue going inside him. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick.
But the feeling in her stomach was distracted by the feeling between her legs. She felt the furry body still lapping at her. The animal was now licking her in precisely the same spot where she was licking the minister! She could feel his tongue lapping hard against her ass, overlapping her asshole and going down between her legs. It tickled her cunt and made her squirm. She wondered what it felt like to the minister. She wondered if he was feeling the same.
She couldn't help reaching up through his legs and grabbing his prick. She really didn't know why she did it, it had something to do with what the dog was doing to her. She did it compulsively. She found it was hard. She found herself pulling at it, pulling in short little jerks, the way he had taught her. She played with his balls as she continued to jerk his meat. And she never stopped licking his ass.
Licking him there wasn't really bad. After all, after she had done it a little, everything was clean and all that. She was really only licking her own saliva. There was no harm in that. And she could see that it felt good to him. Just the way that it felt good with the dog. The dog helped to inspire her. And she wondered how an animal could act that way. Was she an animal too? She wondered about that. Certainly at times, Reverend Salter made her feel like a beast. Like with what she was doing now. But if she was going to be a beast, she might as well be a good one. She pulled harder on the minister's prick. She knew now that she had to make him come.
But it wasn't going to happen the way she had planned it. Cotton had other ideas. With his prick as solid as a bar of steel, he spun around and shoved it in her face. She knew what he wanted and didn't hesitate to put it in her mouth. Quickly she sucked, hoping that she could please him. But this wasn't what he wanted either. It was only to get him warmed up. Giving the dog a violent kick, he took his place behind her. As Jane braced herself on all fours, he entered her from behind. Her cunt was sopping with juice. She was ready for anything he could give. He was horny and didn't hesitate. He pumped quickly and his weight knocked her on her belly.
She fell on her face on the mattress but he was still in her. She stretched her body out on the mattress and felt a glorious tightness between her legs. With the rest of her body flat on the mattress, she arched her ass in the air to let him get a better shot. It was over in a minute. She felt him come inside her. She had come, too. Was it becoming a habit with her? Shamefully she turned her head so that their eyes wouldn't meet.
Chapter 9
Monday morning Joe Hartley had a good mind to telephone Barney Eldred and call their meeting off. He was already jumpy as hell and he wasn't sure that he could even think straight enough to make the trip into Pittsburg, much less negotiate business with Barney. The last time they had been together, Barney had really clipped him on the gross but it wasn't the money that Joe was worried about today. He hardly cared what happened to the business. All he wanted was to see his daughter safe.
At nine o'clock, after a breakfast of black coffee and unbuttered toast, Joe Hartley stuffed the unread morning newspaper into his wastebasket and decided that staying in the office would only make him more nervous. He had to get away from the phone. If anything came up, Matt Benson would handle it. He would only be in the way. So he would go and see Barney. Even if he lost more money it might still take his mind off Jane. Every time he thought about it he couldn't help but imagine terrible things happening to her. Things that Jane had never known existed. If only she hadn't been so pure!
When Joe didn't even look up from his attach' case as the girl walked by, Barney knew something was wrong. The girl was new, just out of college, and she wore the shortest damn dresses he had ever seen. Usually, Joe would have been offering a girl like that his lap but today he hadn't even noticed. Nor had he paid attention to the, quote on the slip of paper in front of him. If he signed at that price he would really get shellacked, but Joe didn't seem to notice.
"What's the matter, Joe," Barney asked, pushing his papers away and pulling his chair closer to the desk. It was no pleasure for him to beat a blind man. He knew that something had to be wrong. "Come on, Joe, we've known each other a long time, ever since the first year you opened up. You can tell me about it, Joe. What's the matter'?"
"Ah, hell, Barney, I'm sorry I'm not paying attention," Joe apologized, knowing that this was the reason Barney had spotted his problem. "Just a small case of nerves I guess," he explained. He did not want to go into the whole story about his daughter. Although he'd been doing business with Barney for a long time and respected his ability, Joe had the suspicion that Barney was a worse whore monger than himself. He knew what thoughts his own mind had conjured up on Jane's fate. He didn't want to give Barney any reason to think things like, that. Barney wouldn't mean any harm, but he didn't want the other man to be thinking those kind of things about his Jane.
"Nerves'?" Barney answered thoughtfully. "Are you sure that's all it is'?" Joe told him that he was sure and Barney thought again. "Look, Joe, I know a person here in Pittsburg who can cure your nerves. Are you staying overnight?"
"Hell; Barney, I don't want to go to a doctor. Staying overnight? I don't know. Yes, I guess-what time is it anyway-I guess I'll stay. But look, what I've got no doctor could cure. Don't worry about it, Barney."
"Did I say anything about a doctor'?" Barney asked. "Joe, you need to get laid! Come on now, Joe, tell me. When was the last time you got it in'? I don't mean anything against your wife, I'm sure she's a wonderful woman, but look, Joe, you're nervous as hell. You need a nice warm cunt to straighten you out."
"Yes, that's it!" Joe laughed, impressed by Eldred's practical wisdom. A good fuck would set him up again. But still, he felt kind of funny about sneaking off to get laid, when Jane was in danger and all. But probably Barney was right. That was what he needed. Ever since Jane had disappeared he'd even been staying away from Debbie Johnson, except for that one time at the drive-in when the minister had to butt in. "What have you got for me, Bartley, that college kid'?" Joe joked. He didn't really consider Barney to be a pimp.
"Look Joe, forget about that stuff," Barney said. "She's got some PhD she's living with-a guy with an educated cock. People like you and me, Joe, we're just too crude for the likes of her. She really faked me out with those dresses, Joe. I wouldn't have hired her otherwise. But she starts in on this Women's Liberation shit if I even try to pat her fanny. No, Joe, I've got something else for you. Hold on a second," he said, picking up the phone.
Joe was too surprised to protest. He'd gotten so used to picking up pussy on his own that it never even occurred to him to go to someone else to get laid, but what the hell! He was going to spend the night, and he really didn't know anyplace in Pittsburg to go. If Barney wanted to set him up with something, that was all right. Just as long as it wasn't too expensive. No. What the hell. He didn't care what it cost, just as long as she wasn't ugly.
Joe watched Barney dial a number and settled back to listen. "Hello?" Barney said as his ring was answered. "Is Aunt Lydia there? Who's calling? Just tell her Uncle B, she knows me . .. Uncle B!" he called louder. "Stupid cunt! Christ, Joe, I don't know where she gets these girls! Hello? Aunt Lydia? This is Uncle B, remember? I saw you the other night."
Joe could hardly believe that any man would bullshit around as much as Barney just to get laid, nor that he would really be so hung up on a few whores knowing his name. Well, it was none of his business. Maybe it was just to protect the girls. He fidgeted a little in his chair as Barney talked to the madam.
"Lydia? I've got someone who needs a little work done on him. .. Oh, no, nothing like that! Just the regular services. How about that blonde? Will she be there tonight? . . . No! Not Mindy. That other one, the new girl. . . You remember, you had her downstairs, what's her name? You don't know? Well, it doesn't matter. Can you have her tonight? Promise? Nine o'clock it is. His name? Well. .. How about 'Foxey'. I'll tell him that. He'll say his name is Foxey."
Barney had a delighted look on his face as he hung up the phone. "Joe, you're not going to believe this, I've got you the best girl she has. This kid is new, Joe, do you know what I mean by new? God, Joe, you're going to love her. Lydia says come at nine o'clock. Say your name is Foxey. Got that, Joe? Here, I'll give you the address."
Joe waited patiently while Barney wrote it down for him. Despite his contempt for the way that Barney was doing all this, he wouldn't mind getting his ashes hauled, as long as he was already in Pittsburg. Listening to Barney on the phone had given him a hard-on. He wondered why. He must be turning into a dirty old man or something; but hell, he had always expected that anyway. "Thanks, Barney," he said, putting the address into a pocket. "Look, how about going for some lunch now? After lunch things will be a little better."
"For Christ's sake, you're not supposed to call me here!" Cotton Salter screamed into the telephone. "This is a church!" he reminded his caller. "And the girl picks it up outside!" The woman on the other end of the line calmly asked him if anyone was listening. Cotton put down the phone and stepped out into the hall but through the open door of the receptionist's office he could see that Mrs. Waters was only reading Capper's Weekly. She had hung up her phone.
"Okay, Lydia, what do you want?" the minister asked' quickly. "Keep it short, I've got business today."
"I've got business, too," Lydia told him. "But one of my clients called and said that he had a friend who wanted to come over tonight. They want that girl of yours. Cotton, can you bring her?"
"The girl? Why her? But. . . Maybe we could work it out," he agreed. "But look, we've got to make this quick. What time do you need her?" Lydia told him. "Well, I'll come over a little early to get her cleaned up and ready and to work out the details with you."
"Oh, Cotton, I hope you've been taking good care of her," Lydia scolded, knowing that he probably had not. "She's such a sweet young thing, I'm really looking forward to seeing her again. Maybe this time I'll be able to introduce her to some of the other girls, I'm sure that she'd like that. Do be good to her, Cotton. I'll see you tonight. "
When they were outside of Martinsville, Cotton almost decided to stop and let the girl sit next to him in the front seat. She had been behaving herself pretty well, ever since the dog had done a number on her. It was probably still too dangerous. Perhaps she was only trying to trick him into being careless so she could escape. He could take no chances with her. Her father was such a goddamn big shot that he could cause a big stink about it. Maybe he'd even get up a/lynch mob or something. There was no telling what these nutty rubes from the sticks might do when they got ticked off. Christ, how he hated Martinsville! But tonight he would be in Pittsburg and Lydia would take care of him. Maybe she would even give him two girls if things were slow. He always liked to do it that way. He could eat a little pussy while he got fucked.
The girl didn't give him any trouble as he got her out of the trunk and in Lydia's back door. She knew where she was, of course, but this time she seemed to have resigned herself to her fate. Still, Lydia knew how to handle young girls and she invited Jane and the minister into her private parlor for a little talk. Jane sat down beside them on the couch while Lydia explained that they wanted to give her a room upstairs tonight.
Of course this time Lydia made it very clear to her that a man was coming to visit her, a man who was going to pay for the privilege of putting his dick between her legs. Jane listened calmly. She had expected as much. But Lydia told her that they wanted her to be a good girl tonight. Tonight she wasn't to run around the room and make trouble for the customer. Nor was she to alarm any of the other girls in the house. Lydia noted that there was no way that they could actually prevent such an outburst as she would be in the room alone with the man. But Reverend Salter had promised that if there was any disorder, he would deal harshly with her later. Jane told them that she understood. Lydia noticed the dirt on Jane's knees where she had knelt down to suck the minister's cock. Lydia called for Mindy to take Jane upstairs and give her a shower. Cotton was about to go up with them but Lydia held him back. She wanted to be alone with him for a little bit and besides, he would just be in the girls' way. "Come on," Mindy called cheerfully as Jane got to her feet.
Jane wondered if she should say anything about how she was being held prisoner. She wondered if Mindy would help her. . . of if she would even care. The fact that Reverend Salter and the madam would even trust them together made Janet doubt that Mindy would be much help to her. She decided that she wouldn't say anything. At least not for the moment.
Mindy led her up the front stairs. Jane noticed that the other girl didn't seem to be embarrassed to be running around a house with men in it dressed only in a transparent robe and her bra and panties.
Jane had glanced into the living room and had seen other girls sitting there in the same sort of attire. In fact, Jane realized that she was the one who was out of place. She was the only woman in the house who was wearing a dress.
Mindy led her into a room on the second floor and pointed to the closet. "You can hang your things in here for now," she said. "You'll be working in this room tonight. Want clean panties and a fresh bra?" Jane nodded her head. "I'll get them for you, just as soon as we get you washed up. How on earth did you get so dirty?"
"It's a long story," Jane said, shaking her head, but she knew that Mindy did not want to listen. Mindy was already at the door, waiting to lead her to the bathroom where she could take a shower. Jane slipped out of her dress and hung it on a hanger. She wondered whether she should take off her bra and panties here or in the bathroom. She decided that it would be better to leave all her clothes together, and besides, she hadn't seen any men coming upstairs. She slipped out of her undies and hung them next to the dress.
"Here we go," Mindy said, taking Jane's hand and leading her back out into the second-floor hall. "It's down this way. We can give you a nice shower and get you all cleaned up." Jane followed without thinking. She felt nothing at all. She did not even feel worried about what was about to happen to her. After the dog, there wasn't much they could do to her that would still be shocking. If she just kept her head, she knew she would survive. Mindy opened the door to the bathroom and Jane followed her inside. Despite the Victorian toilet and sink, the shower was modern. It was a big one, big enough for both of them to get in, and in fact, that was just what Mindy was planning on.
Jane stood by the shower curtain and watched Mindy undress. The girl wasted no time in slipping out of her robe and underwear. Jane noticed that the hair on her pussy was just as blonde as the hair on her head. They were both natural blondes. It struck her as being funny. And Mindy I seemed about her own age.
Mindy was the first one into the shower and Jane waited until she had adjusted the water. When she saw Mindy step under the faucet and let the water splash directly. on her body, Jane stepped inside. The water was just right. It felt so good! It had been so long since she had last bathed properly that Jane couldn't help but be delighted by the water. She took the soap in her hand and worked it into a thick lather. She let her head slip under the spray and she soaped it until it was foaming with bubbles. She stood under the water and let it strike against her body. Being clean again was such a delight. She spread her legs a little and leaned back so that she could rinse her hair. She felt something against her pussy. Although her hair was still soapy, she opened her eyes. Mindy was kneeling in front of her. She had a cake of soap in her hand and she was about to wash her twat!
Jane had never let another girl take a shower with her, not even when she had been young. But of course there was no harm in it. There was no harm in letting Mindy help her wash, even though Mindy's hand was washing very close to a very special place. It sort of felt nice to have another girl touch her there, even though it was strange, and so Jane continued to wash herself and she tried to ignore what Mindy was doing.
When Mindy's hand brought the soap right up against Jane's pussy, Jane could no longer ignore what was happening. "Oh, don't do that, Mindy!" she said. "That feels so funny!"
"It's supposed to," Mindy told her. "Relax and I'll make it feel a lot better."
Jane tried to relax but Mindy simply kept rubbing the soap in the same place. She was rubbing it over Jane's clitoris and it slid along in smooth circles. It felt very stimulating. Jane had to press her legs together to keep from gasping. "Ohh! You don't know what you're doing to me!" she said.
"Relax and enjoy it," Mindy told her. "Don't you like to do it with a girl?" Jane admitted that she had never even thought of doing it with a girl before. She didn't add that she wasn't all that experienced with men. "I'll make it good for you," Mindy promised. "All the girls here say I'm the best. Just lean up against the wall and spread your legs apart. Let me get in between. That's it... Oh, you've got a nice twat! This is going to be good..."
Jane clenched the bar of soap in her hand as Mindy's tongue flicked against her bright-red button. She felt the first thrill shoot through her body. She wondered how she had consented to this so quickly, but she knew in. her heart there was an answer. Jane Hartley, for the first time in her life, was beginning to understand her physical needs. Despite the years of prudish suppression, she was coming out of her shell. Mindy's invitation had been unexpected, but not entirely unwanted. If she had been left in the shower alone, her finger might have sought the same spot!
Her ass squirmed up against the tile as Mindy's lips locked around the tender nub. Mindy did it so nice-not like the minister-but Mindy understood a woman's needs. Jane let her left hand rest on Mindy's shoulder. She noticed how soft Mindy's skin was, just like her own. She let her hand caress Mindy's neck. It gave her a nice sensation. And Mindy was running her hands up and down Jane's inner thighs. That felt nice too.
Jane let herself relax completely. Perhaps that was why it happened so fast. Her head was pressed against the wall and her eyes were half closed when she felt herself coming. "Ohh!" she gasped quickly, pulling her legs together tight and pushing Mindy away. Her twat was so sensitive that she couldn't take any more.
But Mindy just squatted back on her heels and watched. She knew it would be over in a moment.
Then Jane would be ready for more. And Mindy was wondering if Jane would go down on her!
When Jane's eyes opened, Mindy was standing directly in front of her. Their bodies were practically touching. Jane could see that Mindy's nipples were erect. Mindy's breasts were smaller than her own and were more like apples than pears but they were well-formed. Acting on a sudden impulse, Jane reached out and touched them. She had never done that to a girl before! But Mindy just smiled. She was pleased that Jane was feeling her. Mindy stepped closer to her and Jane felt Mindy's bush press against her own. "Go down on me!" Mindy whispered in Jane's ear. "Please eat me, Jane. You're making my cunt so hot!"
Without knowing why, Jane knew she was going to lap Mindy's cunthole. The relief that Mindy had just given her was already fading and her horniness was returning. She was glad that they were in such a private place. The shower curtains were drawn all the way and the door was closed. Cautiously, Jane squatted down on the floor. Mindy was pressing down on both her shoulders. Her nose brushed against Mindy's pubic thatch and Jane let it poke through the jungle and bump against Mindy's clitoris. She had never seen a woman up close like this before, she had never even examined this part of her body in a mirror. But she knew just what to do. The minister had taught her. She was just licking her lips to suck Mindy's cunt when suddenly the shower curtains were pulled back.
"Sorry, girls," Lydia called cheerfully. "Mindy, you're wanted downstairs. It's that sailor again. And Jane-that's your name so I'm told-you'd better get your things on. Your client will be here any minute."
Chapter 10
Lydia hurried Jane back to the small room where she had left her clothes. Jane was still naked but Lydia told her to wait a moment and in less than a minute she had returned with a pair of fresh black bikini panties, a scanty mesh bra and a sheer nylon robe which she draped around Jane, concealing none of her attributes. She also gave Jane a hair dryer and told her to hurry and get ready. If she were a good girl, she could play with Mindy later.
Jane was surprised at herself for finding the offer so appealing.
Jane dried her hair quickly and lay back on the bed. She was still horny as hell and she wasn't sure that she could wait for this man. The door was closed and nobody was watching her. Certainly it wouldn't hurt anything if she just slipped her hand down under her panties... It felt so good when her fingertip pressed against the little cunt button! Jane rubbed it briskly and closed her eyes. She braced her shoulders against the mattress and arched her hips up to meet her hand. She rubbed her finger faster. She could feel her body coming alive. It felt so good when she did it! Oh, if only there was time...
Barney Eldred's attitude had done something to Joe Hartley. Ordinarily, Joe wouldn't have given two shits about walking into a strange whorehouse in a strange city where Mildred would never find out about what he was doing. But all Barney's secrecy had finally gotten to him and Joe had actually gone to the trouble of getting himself a pair of dark glasses and a black hat before venturing into Aunt Lydia's neighborhood. Joe rationalized it by telling himself that he had to be particularly careful when the police were out looking for his daughter. He knocked on the door the way Barney had told him. When a voice caned out "Who's there?" he grumbled that it was "Foxey". The door opened.
"Why we're delighted to have you here, Foxey," Lydia said, welcoming him in. "You'll love this little girl that we have for you," she added. "She's very new in this business but she's learning very quickly. I'm sure that you'll appreciate her. Do you want to leave your coat here?"
"Yes," Joe grumbled, slipping out of his coat and giving it to her. Although he had originally planned to at least check into a motel just to keep up appearances, Barney had convinced him that it was perfectly safe to sleep over at Lydia's. Nobody had ever been robbed in her house-she saw to that-and that way he could have more than one girl if the spirit moved him. Lydia took his coat and hung it in the hall closet. "I'll keep these on for the moment," Joe said, hanging onto his hat and sunglasses. Lydia did not question him. She was used to men who were eager to protect their reputations. If this guy wanted to wear a hat to bed, it was all the same to her.
"Nice place you got here," Joe said, looking through the parlor door and eyeing the girls who were sitting there. He hadn't really felt particularly horny but the sight of an those half-naked girls was beginning to turn him on.
"Your girl is upstairs," Lydia told him. "We've got her all ready for you. But perhaps you'd like a drink before you go up to her? Maybe you'd even like to take a bottle up with you?" Joe told her to forget the bottle but that he would take a drink. She led him into the parlor and he sat down and waited for her to fix it. The girls in the room giggled at him but didn't come over to him. They knew that he was waiting for the new girl, the minister's girl, the one they had heard so much about.
Lydia gave Joe his drink and he sipped at it slowly. He didn't need the liquor to get him in the mood but he enjoyed looking at all these girls. Christ, maybe he'd bring another one or two of them upstairs before the night was out. He'd brought plenty of money, and anyway, the prices were pretty damn reasonable, considering what he had to pay that dumb secretarial twat down at the plant. So he was determined to enjoy himself. He settled back with the intention of getting a little ripe before going upstairs, just to spice things up a bit. His cock was already getting hard and he had half a mind to can one of the girls over and have her give him a few jiggles. He was raising his glass to his lips for a second long pun when he heard something that stopped him.
A man's voice was crying out that he was about to sin someone with the love of God. "Oh, please don't be offended," Lydia cautioned, seeing Joe start. "That's a clerical gentleman who comes here to minister to the girls. Most men of God would be ashamed to be seen in the company of people like us," Joe rose from his chair, "but this one is a man of character. . . " Lydia said weakly, seeing that Joe was already on his way into her private parlor. "Foxey! You can't go in there!" she cried, but she knew that she was already too late.
"Cotton Salter! By God, this is a surprise!" Joe Hartley bellowed as he pushed back the door and saw the minister lying naked on the couch. "Well, Reverend, looks like I'm not the only one in Martinsville who gets horny." Joe laughed loudly.
There were two girls with the minister, one of them kneeling beside the couch with her head in Cotton Salter's lap, licking the swollen joint which rose perpendicular from his body. The other girl was standing on the couch above the minister's head. She had been squatting down over him with her crotch in his face. He had been sucking at her clit, nibbling the inner pussylips, and jabbing his finger up her cunt. The minister still had the stiff white collar around his neck but was otherwise naked.
"Well, Minister, maybe if I talk to the elders they'll install some pussy in the rectory for you. Looks like you need spiritual renewal to keep your thoughts on God!" Joe could hardly get over his amusement at having caught the minister with his pants down. That pious bastard was going to tread a little lighter around Martinsville after this. Not that Joe gave a shit if the minister wanted to get laid. Hell, that just proved that he was human. But Joe had been burned shitless by the way the minister carried on with him about being a bad parent and all. Now there wouldn't be any more of that shit. Now Cotton Salter was going to get it back, tit for tat, if he ever opened his god damn mouth with Joe.
"Guess you'll excuse me; Reverend Salter," Joe grinned. "I'm on my way upstairs to get laid with some new kid they got decked out for me special. Maybe you can can have her after I finish," Joe joked, "if you don't mind getting sloppy seconds!" He slapped his thigh and burst out laughing again. "I swear, Salter, you're the damnedest sight I ever saw!" Still choking with laughter, Joe backed out of the room and left the minister in peace.
Joe had noticed the look of concern on the minister's face but he had simply thought that the minister was embarrassed and ashamed to have been caught by someone from his congregation while he was sporting in a whorehouse. Joe thought nothing more of it and, in fact, hardly cared what Cotton Salter did with his spare-time, just as long as he didn't bother him. Maybe he could even trade girls with him later. Salter certainly didn't have the look of a man who was going anywhere in a hurry, not the way he was lying with his pants down and his bone up.
Lydia saw Joe coming out of the private parlor and decided that the best thing to do would be to get him upstairs right away. She didn't like to have men who knew each other meet unexpectedly in her house. It caused complicated problems sometimes. She wanted to get this "Foxey" upstairs where he would be out of the way so she could go in and talk to Cotton. In the back of her mind, Lydia was asking herself where Cotton had gotten this Jane, but that would have to wait until later. Right now it was more important to make sure that Foxey and the minister didn't cause a scene.
"It's the second door on the left," Lydia told, Joe, pointing to the second-story landing and guiding him up the stairs. Joe thanked her and proceeded on his way. After seeing the minister, he actually felt more comfortable in this place. Shit, when he got back to Martinsville maybe he could even tell his friends about it, and about the minister. They sure as hell wouldn't care what Cotton Salter did on his nights off.
Joe stopped outside the door that Lydia had indicated. She was still watching him from the bottom of the stairs. Joe pointed to the door and Lydia called, "That's the one." Joe nodded to show that he understood. He pushed the door open slowly. He was still wearing his hat and sunglasses, even though the light was dim in the house. As the door opened, he saw the girl on the bed.
She was lying with her head back against the pillow and her eyes tightly closed. Her legs were spread wide apart and her hand was beneath her panties. She was giving herself a handjob and she was almost finished. He could hear her moaning, he could hear her orgasm coming. "Ohh!" the girl groaned as her thighs suddenly twisted from side to side and locked her hand between her legs. "Jane!" Joe Hartley cried in disbelief. His hand knocked the hat from his head and he ripped off the sunglasses.
Jane looked up and saw her father. His voice had come through to her, through the quick flash of ecstasy. She sat up on the bed, her face was twisted with confusion. She was joyful for her salvation. She was mortified by what he had seen her do. And suddenly she felt so naked. She saw the way that he was looking at her. She twisted toward the sheet and struggled to find something to cover her body. The bed had been made too tight and she could not pull the top sheet off. Instead, she was forced to grab the pillow and hold it in front of her. She felt very uncomfortable about the way that her father was looking at her. His eyes had fixed on her breasts.
But only for a moment. Hartley's mind was racing to shift gears. It was true that when he had walked into the room he had been ready to fuck. It was true that at first, in that split second before there had been the recognition, he had been delighted that this raunchy bitch was already diddling herself and getting her box creamy. But then he had seen who it was. The feelings of lust vanished and instead all his deep parental concern once again took control of his mind and he raced to his daughter's side. He put his arms around her, ignoring her efforts at modesty. He held her and kissed her and hugged her so tight that her bones almost cracked.
"Jane! Oh, God, Jane! We've worried so much about you! Oh, Jane, what happened to you?" he cried without thinking. For the moment it was enough just to see her. For the moment he hardly cared what had happened to her and why she was here. It was enough to know that she was alive and safe and that nobody would ever harm her again. He would see to that! Perhaps he had been a bad parent to her, perhaps he hadn't given her enough attention. Well, he vowed that he would do better in the future, even if it meant no more dirty stories down at the club on Sunday afternoon. No, from now on he was gong to be a real father to her. He was never going to let anyone hurt her again.
"Oh, Daddy," Jane cried as she broke down in tears and clung to him. His love for her was so overwhelming that she could not be embarrassed by the nakedness of her body. "Daddy, it's so good to see you!" Jane cried. She was so choked with emotion that she could hardly add anything to it.
"Oh, Daddy, it's so good. . . "
They held and comforted each other and let their joy express it in glad tears. Joe was sobbing like a baby, even though he had always considered himself to be a tough man. But now, seeing his own little girl again, it was just too much for him. He didn't care what anyone thought. He loved Jane. Damn them all to hell if they couldn't understand that!
But finally .as they began to shake off that first overwhelming joy, Joe asked his daughter what had happened. He could see that it had been a frightful experience for her. He had forgotten for the moment just where they were or why he was here-or what he had expected to do with the girl lying on the bed. "What happened, Jane?" Joe asked. He did not want to say anything to hurt her. He remembered how Reverend Salter had suggested that she might have run off on her own, that she might have been seduced by some young lover and abandoned to a life of shame. He didn't want to ask anything that would upset her, anything that she would find too hard to face. If she had gone out and gotten laid, well, hell, that's something any healthy girl could do. He certainly wouldn't ever hold it against her. He hoped that she could understand that. He knew that their meeting might be a very deep shock for her.
"Oh, Daddy," Jane started to talk but immediately broke down in tears. Joe patted her on the back as her breath came in deep sobs which choked off the words that she was trying to get out. "Daddy... He raped me... He held me prisoner, and the dog. . . "
"God!" Joe Hartley cried, instantly grasping the meaning of her words. It was even more horrible than he had imagined. "Who did it, Sugar? Who raped you?" he asked, losing control now as his anger swept aside the joy. "Sugar, don't be afraid, it's all over now. . . But tell me, tell me who did it. I have to know, Sugar. .. So he can't hurt any other little girls."
Jane started to talk but again her tears drowned out her voice. Joe held his daughter tightly to comfort her, patiently waiting for her evidence. He would kill the man who had done this to his daughter, even if it meant spending the rest of his life in jail for it. At the moment he didn't care. "Daddy. . . " she said, getting control again. "Yes, Sugar, who was it?" Joe asked. "Daddy. . . " she gasped again. "It was Reverend Salter!"
"Salter?" Joe cried, releasing his daughter and springing to his feet. He didn't wait to ask her a second time. "That sonofabitch!" Joe cried, tearing the door open and racing to the stairs. "Salter, goddamn you, I'll kill you, you motherfucker!"
Even before Joe Hartley's feet pounded down the stairs, the girls from the parlor had stuck their heads out into the hallway to see what was the commotion. The men who had been with them discreetly stayed behind. Lydia heard her client and rushed from the kitchen to prevent an incident, but Joe knocked aside the bottle in her hand and rushed to the private parlor. The door was locked from the inside but a quick kick shattered the frame of the door and sent it flying into the room. Hartley stepped through it with his fists clenched.
"Salter, you motherfucker!" Joe cried as his eyes searched the room. The two girls were sitting on the couch, one with a stiff white collar around her neck and the other with a black clerical jacket draped over her shoulder. It took Joe a moment to notice that they were both pointing to the open window. "Bastard!" Joe cried, seeing where the curtains were blowing in the breeze. In another moment he had reached the window and had sprung through it onto the ground outside. He looked in both directions. There was no one in sight. Behind the house he could hear the sound of an engine starting. He ran toward it and saw that it was only a sailor. Still, he stopped the car. At first, the sailor was reluctant to roll down his window for this madman but when he realized that Joe wasn't flashing a badge he decided that half-way might be safe. "Did you see a minister?" Joe asked the kid.
"Shit, mister, he left here five minutes ago, like a bat out of hell. He was parked right back there," the sailor said, pointing to a spot behind the house. "Must have had the devil on his tail," the sailor observed philosophically. "I've never seen a minister in a whorehouse before. Live and learn, I guess. But shit, mister, let me get the hell out of her before the MP's come. I'm AWOL."
Joe stood aside and let-the sailor go. He trusted what the sailor had said, even though there wasn't any particularly good reason why he should trust him. He walked to the back of the parking lot and saw the deep ruts in the gravel where the minister had been parked. He had left in a hurry. There was no telling which way he would go.
The only thing to do was to get back to the house and question Jane. He looked up and saw the back door opened for him. The madam was standing there, beckoning him to come in. He'd have her in jail before the night was out, Joe decided? Martinsville was across the state line. There were still laws in this country and he'd see to it that they were enforced. If it wasn't for the fact that she was a woman, he would have grabbed her and wrung her neck. Joe stormed back inside the whorehouse and saw that Jane had come halfway down the stairs. She was still wearing the transparent dressing gown and he couldn't help notice how beautiful her body was. "Well?" Joe demanded, turning to the madam. "What in hell do you have to say?"
"Perhaps we'd better go into the parlor," Lydia said coolly. Joe looked around and saw that all the whores were watching. "Jannie," Lydia said, looking up on the stairs. "Perhaps you'd better get your things on for now." Jane looked to her father to see if he had any conflicting instructions. Joe just stood there shaking his head and Jane decided that it would be best to get dressed. She hurried back upstairs to get the clothes the minister had given her. "Won't you come into the parlor, Mr. Foxey, or whatever your name is!"
Joe heard the name and it hit him like a slap in the face. "Hartley, damn it, Joe Hartley," he told her in an effort to make it clear to her that he was not ashamed of his name. He wanted to add that the girl in the bedroom was his daughter but the whores were watching him with such interest that he decided to wait. He followed the madam into her private room. "Send Jannie in when she comes down," Lydia told the other girls. "Now, Mr. Hartley, perhaps we should have a talk."
The two girls who had been with Cotton were still sitting on the couch, as if they expected his imminent return. They did not try to cover their naked bodies when Joe looked at them, although the girl with the black coat over her shoulders giggled a little. "Heather, you can close the window," Lydia told her. Heather got up and did as she was told. "Now," Lydia said, looking at the girls with severity. "Where did your client go?" They again pointed to the window. Lydia continued to look at them intently and Heather explained. .
"After he saw this man," she explained, pointing to Joe, "he started to act funny. Gosh, I was sucking his dick and I could feel he was ready to come, but he jumped up and started looking around the room for his clothes. He just got his pants and his shirt and he didn't even wait for his collar. Gosh, how's anyone going to know he's a minister if he doesn't have his collar? Then he just opened the window and said he'd be right back. Is he coming back, Lydia?"
"I don't think so," Lydia said.
"I'll break his fuckin' ass if he does!" Joe cried.
"Please, Mr. Hartley, not in front of the girls!" Lydia scolded, trying to keep the decorum. "Girls, go back to the living room," Lydia ordered. "I'll talk to you later. Now, Mr. Hartley," Lydia said as the girls left, "what is going on here?"
"What's going on!" Joe demanded. "You ask me? I find my daughter in a whorehouse, she says she's been raped by a minister-and a dog, goddammit!-and you ask me what's going on?"
"Your daughter!" Lydia said with alarm. "Why that's. . . Oh, it's all that minister's fault!" she cried, neglecting to tell Joe of her own part in the scheme and leaving him to believe that she had innocently procured work for a girl in need. After all, the girl didn't know about all the arrangements. Cotton was the only one who knew. And Lydia knew that Cotton Salter was already long gone. She expected that it would be a long time before they would see him back again. Her little secret would be safe. "Oh, I just don't know what to say, Mr. Hartley. Oh, that nasty minister! Why he told me that the girl had fallen into hard times and that she needed to make some money. Why, I thought that I was doing her a favor! Certainly I wouldn't do anything to hurt your daughter, Mr. Hartley. You can talk to any of my girls there, they can all tell you what good care we take of them."
Joe listened but it didn't make much of an impression on him. He still wanted to kill the minister but the madam didn't mean much to him one way or the other. The door opened and Jane came in. He was stunned by the sight of his own daughter. She was wearing a black dress that he had never seen before. In fact, he could almost see right through the dress, except where her black bra and panties blocked his view of her clear white flesh. He felt his lust returning. Why, Jane looked like a new girl! He struggled to control himself and tried to remember everything that had happened.
"Come on in, dear, and sit down," Lydia said to Jane. Although Jane was feeling confused by everything that had happened, she did as she was bid. She looked nervously at her father, wondering if he knew yet how willing she had been. She wondered if the madam had said anything about Mindy, how she had caught them together, or about any of those other things that had happened with the minister. She could see that her father was angry at the madam but she had a feeling that if he knew the whole truth of what had happened, he would also be angry at her.
"Now Mr. Hartley, you know why men come to n1e," Lydia started cheerfully. "Why, you came here for that yourself," she declared. Joe grumbled and Jane looked at her father in amazement. She had thought that he had come to save her! She saw now from the look on his face that the madam was right and she was wrong. It suddenly occurred to her that he would not have possibly have known where she was unless he had known that Cotton Salter was the one who kidnapped her-and he had not known about the minister until she had told him! So the madam was right! Her father had come here. . . just like any other man!
"Look, I'm no puritan," Joe Hartley grumbled. "I've done a few things in my time, I'll admit, but I've never..." He stopped. He simply didn't know what to say.
"I understand, Mr. Hartley," Lydia soothed. "Believe me, Mr. Hartley, I know all about what a man needs. That's how I make my living. But Mr. Hartley, girls are human, too. It takes two to tango, Mr. Hartley," she reminded him. "And you'd be surprised what intricate steps some men want!" she noted, as if she was taking Joe into her confidence.
"What happened?" Joe said, turning to his daughter. "What all did he do to you? You can tell me," he urged. "I'm your father!"
Jane looked at her father. Certainly, it was only right that she tell him. Certainly, he had been very worried about her and now, if they were ever going to set all this straight, she would have to fill him in on everything that had happened from the time Reverend Salter had put that cloth over her face to the time that she had looked up from her lustful desire and seen her father standing over her. It would all have to come out, but right now she couldn't bear it. She was still much too confused about her own reaction to everything that had happened. At first, it had been sheer horror. But little by little, as the minister seemed to grow crazier and crazier, she had found that instead of being repulsed by his actions, why, she was actually enjoying herself! Not that she enjoyed him, any more than she had enjoyed that nasty dog. But what he had done to her had aroused her. What he had done to her had awaken a lust in her that she never knew existed. When Mindy had licked her twat, nobody had forced her. And she willingly would have licked Mindy back!
"Can't you see she's hardly ready to talk about all those things?" Lydia scolded Joe. "Later, when she's rested, then she'll tell you, but not now. Can't you see how much she's been through?"
Joe realized that the madam was right. He found himself actually being grateful to her for her protective attitude toward his daughter. Anyone who was kind to Jane couldn't be all bad, and she did have some damn fine-looking girls here! Joe realized that he would have to content himself with forgetting about Cotton Salter. Salter would never show his face around Martinsville, that was for sure. And Jane did seem safe. Why, she even looked. .. Well, there was something about her which seemed so much more sophisticated than when he had seen her before. It was almost as if she had grown up since she had been away from home. Joe knew that his-daughter was no longer a virgin. The look of innocence was gone from her face. Jane had learned something about life. She had learned what it was like to be with a man.
"Now Mr. Hartley," Lydia continued. "You came here to get laid." Joe cast a quick glance at Jane to see if the word embarrassed her but she hadn't flinched. "And your daughter... Well, Mr. Hartley, she came here to give pleasure to a man. I'll admit, Mr. Hartley, that she may have been forced, she may have been told that she didn't have any choice in the matter, but still, I don't think she was completely unwilling. Isn't that right, my dear?"
Joe saw his daughter blush and understood that the madam had spoken the truth. So his daughter really was changed! And she didn't seem to mind it. Joe looked at Jane in a new light. He remembered what she had been doing when he had entered the room. She had been giving herself a fingerfuck, that was very unlike the daughter he had known. At home he had been convinced that she never touched that part of her body. But now she enjoyed it.
Although he knew it was wrong of him, Joe stared at her until he could feel his prick awakening. He tried to remember her as he had seen her on the bed. Her nipples had poked out against the front of her bra and her golden cunt hair had curled above the waistband of her bikini panties. But even now as she sat before him he could still see so much of her body! It was such a joy to look at her that he found himself forgetting who she was and why she was here.
"You have a very attractive daughter," Lydia said gently. "A lot of men would pay every last cent they had to get in her pants." Although it irritated Joe that she talked this way about Jane, he had been thinking the same thing. In fact, he had been thinking what it would be like to climb in her pants himself. It was crazy but he just couldn't help himself. "Jannie," Lydia said to the girl. "Do you remember what that other man was like, the short one? Do you remember how he felt about you?" Jane nodded while Joe looked from one to the other, trying to get some clue as to who the short man was. "I think that your father's feeling the same way now, Jannie. Men get that way sometimes, just the way that you felt something yourself with Mindy."
Jane blushed at the mention of Mindy's name. Her father was looking at her and she could see that he had guessed what the madam was talking about. She wondered what he would think of her now. Yet his expression hadn't seemed to have changed. In fact, he was still looking intently at her tits. It made her feel a little uncomfortable. At the same time, although she knew that it was wrong, the way that he was looking at her gave her a thrill! It made her feel like a woman!
"You know," Lydia said wisely. "You two are both horny, that's the way I see it. Look, Mr. Hartley, nobody here knows that she's your daughter. Believe me, I can keep a secret, nobody will ever find out. After all, Mr. Hartley, you could get me in a lot of trouble."
Joe heard what the woman was saying but he couldn't bear to face her. Nor could he bear to face his daughter. He noticed that her eyes were lowered, too. "Oh, come, Mr. Hartley. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of men come here just to find girls who look like their daughters. You just happened to stumble on the real thing. Why not relax and enjoy it? In the morning you can take her home. I'm sure that you'll be able to make up some story... Perhaps a traveling salesman or something. You can be a hero and they'll all be so happy that your daughter is home safe that they won't even care what happened. And certainly you're not going to tell your wife how you happened to find your daughter, are you, Mr. Hartley?"
Joe couldn't help respecting the madam for her reasoning. It was true that often when he knocked off a piece of ass his thoughts were on his daughter. It was true that he had watched her grow into womanhood and had often wondered what she would be like in the sack. Perhaps it was a fantasy come true. But what about Jane? What did she think? He was embarrassed to have her see his feelings. His prick had grown very hard. It was pushing up against the front of his pants and when he straightened it out a little, he saw that his daughter's eyes were on him.
Jane Hartley saw the lump in her father's pants and remembered what she had been thinking before he had walked in on her. She remembered how she had been aching for something long and hard to fill the cunthole between her legs. She remembered how she had been dying to have her clit jiggled by a man. She remembered how her body had awakened to lust, how she had been dying to get fucked by a man-any man-even her father!
Lydia rose from where she was sitting between them. "Come along now," she said, taking Joe by the hand. "Put your hand on her breast. . . " she placed Joe's hand on his daughter's breast. Both father and daughter were blushing now. "Isn't she sweet?" Lydia asked. "And Jannie, look what your father has for you!" She took Jane's hand and brought it to her father's crotch. Jane felt the hard rod. She felt what the sight of her had done to her father. "Tell me you both don't want it!" Lydia scolded. "Come along now, get to bed. And we'll see you in the morning. Not a word to anyone!"
Father and daughter looked at each other. Joe could hardly control what he was feeling now. It was no longer any use to pretend that he wasn't horny. Jane had seen it for herself. But his daughter, too, had a nervous look, a look which told a story. Lydia chased them out into the hall and they went toward the stairs without looking at each other. Only when they had climbed' safely to the top did Jane take hold of her father's hand. She gave it a timid little squeeze, as she might have done as a little girl. But in that squeeze Joe detected more than little-girl feelings. He put his arm around her waist and squeezed her back.
They were side by side as they walked through the narrow door. Joe stopped inside the door and made sure that it was locked. He had already had his share of surprises for the day. Jane smiled at him nervously when she saw what he was doing. He could see that she was pleased.
"Do you want me to take my clothes off, Daddy?" she asked shyly.
"Okay, Sugar," Joe agreed. Jane reached behind her back to unfasten her zipper and Joe realized, for the first time, that he, too, would have to undress. He felt awkward to do it in front of his daughter. He waited until she was standing in just her bra and panties before he started to unbutton his shirt. But Jane slipped out of her clothes gracefully and went to wait for him on the bed. She lay on her side so that he would not be able to see her cunt. She was still feeling a little uneasy about what they were doing. The sight of her broke Joe's control. He quickly stripped out of the rest of his clothes and went to her.
Joe desperately wanted to fuck his daughter. He knew he had to prove to her that it was safe, that he wouldn't later regret it, that he wasn't making her do something terrible. There was only one way that Joe knew of. It had always seemed to work. It had worked well with Debbie Johnson and a few others Joe had known. Joe took her thigh and pushed it back down on the bed so that she was flat on her back. He positioned himself between her legs and bent down at her crotch. He wet his lips and pushed his head into her muff. His thumbs found the tender lips of her cunt and gently split the furry gash apart. His tongue poked into the red valley and pushed the hood back from her clit. Without even looking her in the eye, Joe began to suck his daughter's twat.
He sucked patiently, even after he watched her clit grow erect from his tongue. He sucked until he could see the clear liquid oozing from her box. He let his finger poke into her body and wiggle around inside her cunt. He let his other hand stretch up along her stomach and grab a glorious tit. He fixed his fingertips on her nipple and rubbed in circles. He sucked and rubbed and fingerfucked. He heard his daughter give a small gasp.
"Ahhh!" Jane cried as she felt the fierce friction on her body. Even before they had closed themselves into the room, she had been hot. All the way up the stairs she had been terrified that he would back' out on her, that their blood relationship would cool his lust. But she needed him! She couldn't begin to tell him how badly! Now she wanted to prove herself to him, to show him that she understood. There was one way that she remembered that he might appreciate. Perhaps she could show him now. With his head still between her legs, she twisted her body upside down on the bed. Her father saw what she was doing but didn't try to stop her. She was able to reach his prick.
Jane looked at it for a moment before she put it in her mouth. It was long, longer than the minister's, if that was possible, and it seemed very hard. When she caught it in her hand she had to pull very hard to move it around a little. It was sticking out so straight from his body! But her jaws opened and her lips locked around it. She had it in her mouth! Her father's prick! And it tasted so delicious. She just couldn't get over it. She let her tongue trail slowly up the underside of the shaft. She let her fingers run through his hair on his balls.
She was so eager that she even let the, tip of her right index finger poke gently against her father's asshole. Her father groaned when she touched him there.
And he was still licking furiously between her legs. She could feel her whole snatch getting wet. She squirmed on the bed until her legs could open wider. She sucked .faster on his prick as her own desire strengthened. But his tongue was not enough to give her the kind of relief which she needed now. Perhaps there was something else she could do for him to make him understand. "Wait!" she cried frantically as she pulled his sopping prick from her mouth. "Let me get on top of you!" she begged, struggling to her knees. Joe had never seen his daughter so aggressive but he was willing to watch it. He lay back and waited as she got to her feet.
Jane squatted over her father's loins. Spit was dripping from her twat, mixed" with her_ own creamy secretions. Her clit was aching and her box felt a terrible emptiness, an emptiness which had to be filled. Slowly, she lowered her body. She felt her father's upraised prick. She reached down and caught the cockshaft in her hand and guided it to her gentle cunt lips. She felt the blunt head pry against the tight opening. She squatted down further. Her body was opening up for him and his cock smoothly slipped into her silky walls. He raised his hips and jabbed at her. Jane came down more. She was sitting all the way now, her ass was on top of his balls. She let her knees fall forward on the bed. Her ass hugged his prick. She squirmed and tightened all the muscles in her body. She struggled to trap him inside her.
Jane lay forward until her tits were inches from her father's hairy chest. She let her nipples brush against the hair and become erect. Her father reached up and grabbed her and firmly held her knobs. She lowered her head further and kissed him on the lips. She had never kissed her father like that but now she wanted to. She wanted him to know that everything was all right and that she was a new Jane Hartley, a daughter that he could appreciate, in more ways than one. And he was the father to fuck her. She wanted him to understand that. After the lessons she had been given, she still needed practice. He cou1[:t teach her the rest. It would be nice that way. She knew she could trust him. Perhaps they could go somewhere private, perhaps even that room in the church! Nobody would suspect anything, not between the two of them. But now there was the immediate need to take care of. She wanted to take care of her father's need!
Joe let his hips pump steadily as his daughter fucked back and forth on his dong. Each time Jane came forward, her ass lifted in the air and her tits brushed against his chest. Then she went back down on him, burying his cock deep in her cunt. Her ass pressed against his thighs and her tits rose high in the air. She was a beautiful sight. All tits and ass and cunt and fucking. Joe Hartley could appreciate it. He could ream out her twat.
But with his daughter on top of him, Joe couldn't get it in deep enough. She was such a gorgeous hunk of ass! He had to get it up tight. "Roll over!" Joe cried frantically. His daughter understood. She rolled over and lay on her back with her knees raised and her thighs parted. Joe was between her legs in an instant and his cock was back inside her. He noticed that his prick was ringed with her cream. She really had a slippery twat. He pushed deep into her body, letting his wide prick bore out her hole. His hips shook and rocked and fucked and his prick went in and out. She cried in a short little gasp but Joe knew it was only the beginning. He grabbed her shoulders and held her to him. His chest bore down on her tits and pinned her to the bed. His stick hammered her ass into the mattress and he could feel himself coming.
"Oh, shit, it's going to come," Joe mumbled in his daughter's ear. He had wanted to restrain himself but her twat was too silky and tight. "Do it to me, Daddy," Jane begged. He heard her and decided that a longer fuck could wait for later. Now he would give it what he had to give. He forgot about everything except her hot little twat. His dick jabbed in and out until her cream slopped over their pubic hair. He could feel his dong getting red and sore but he knew it didn't matter. Later her gentle lips could suck him off while he lay and licked her pussy. Right now his balls were going to burst if he didn't lighten them a bit. .. He felt a sharp spasm, somewhere at the base of his spine.
He felt the tickling sensation as his load raced through his tubes. Come was shooting into her body, filling her torrid snatch. Come was pumping in thick, hot spurts deep inside her twat. His daughter's fingernails raked his back but Joe wasn't feeling any pain. All he was feeling was his throbbing prick. . . and the heat of his daughter's cunt.
And Jane was far from passive. Jane could feel it too. She could feel his urgent load racing through her body, warming her snatch until it burned with desire. Slowly the warmth spread over her body. Every muscle grew tense. For a moment, Jane thought her body would tear itself apart. Then she felt herself coming. Abruptly, her muff jerked upward and tightened around his cock. Abruptly, her cunt writhed in tight spasms until she could feel it rippling up and down. Her tits felt so supersensitive that she could not bear his touch. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against the mattress and waited for the hot jolt. It hit her like a slamming door, over and over again. She trembled and shook and twitched on the bed until finally the heat subsided. Jane slowly regained her senses and looked into her father's eyes.
"God!" she exclaimed in wonder. She had just fucked her own father! But not only had she fucked her father, she had liked it. Period. No reservations. She had liked getting laid. She looked at Joe as he lay back on the bed. There was a shiny white ring around his cock where it had dipped into her juices. She simply couldn't help herself. She had to suck it. Without saying anything she twisted her body until her head was in his lap. She took it and put it in her mouth W1ithout bothering to wipe off her own juices. Those juices no longer offended her. No, not any more. Now they were delicious. Just as his were.
She sucked frantically, trying to bring back the bone. She could see that he wasn't tired yet. Only a little limp from having fucked once already. A little work should do the trick. That was what she was counting on. She was willing to work for what she wanted. Her lips clamped down on the shaft and she sucked with all her might. She could feel it growing hard.
It didn't take Joe long to get his prick up again. The sight of his naked daughter was too much for ,him. He ran his hands over her body and let them rest on her ass. He had always admired her ass. Now he could hardly believe that it was his to hold. He could hardly believe that he was fondling his own daughter's rosy asscheeks.
But Jane was aware of what was happening. She was aware and she liked it. "Want to fuck it, Daddy?" she asked, forcing herself to be more brazen than she really was. She did want him to do it that way. She could see the admiration in his eyes. She could see what delight she was giving him. She wanted to hold nothing back.
"Fuck it?" Joe Hartley asked, not quite believing what he was hearing. In fact, he had never really fucked a girl up the ass, except once when he had a whore who liked it that way. "You want me to bugger your ass?" Joe asked. Had it been anyone but his daughter asking the question he wouldn't have even hesitated.
"Yes, Daddy, please do it that way," she whispered. She didn't dare to tell him how exciting it was for her to be taken in that fashion. She didn't dare tell him what she had felt when Cotton Salter had poked his stiff cock gristle up that tight little opening. He would see for himself when he did it. She didn't have to say anything. Her actions would speak louder than words. "I'll get down on my hands and knees," she told him gently, hoping that he would be able to do it. Really she wasn't an expert or anything but she was pretty sure that it would all go together somehow. And she wanted to try. .
She rolled over on her stomach and climbed up on all fours. Joe watched her for a moment before he got up behind her. She seemed so small and delicate as she crouched beneath him. He was almost afraid to lower the mass of his body onto her. Certainly it would crush her. Jane reached behind her back and grabbed both cheeks of her ass. She pulled them apart until her asshole wrinkled and opened up a little for his inspection. She really was cute back there. He had a really sexy daughter. Joe grabbed his prick. Could he really bring himself to do it? He was afraid to hurt her. .. And yet she seemed to know!
He tenderly placed the head of his cock against her rectum. He held it there for a moment, rubbing it a little from side to side. Jane could feel the sensation. Her skin was so tender back there that even the touch of his prick against her started her off. But as Jane felt it, she started to back up on him. She wasn't content to just have him poking lightly at her. She wanted to feel that delicious feeling that she could only have when her ass was split wide open. She needed his hard bone right inside her, plowing into her insides, as deep as he could go.
Joe sensed that he was only teasing his daughter. He sensed that she needed much more. He reached forward and grabbed her hips to hold her steady. His cock was centered on the tight brown eye as he pushed it forward. She didn't open up: He really hadn't expected her to. But she didn't look nervous about it. She just braced herself and waited for him to try again. This time Joe did it more carefully. He held her hip with one hand and his prick with the other. This time when he moved forward, all the pressure hit dead center. The tight hole started to open up.
He began to realize that he was really going to have to work if he wanted to enjoy this tight morsel. But he did want her now. It was rapidly becoming a compulsion. His cock ached and the thought of what it would feel like to be inside her back passage was already making him jumpy. He tried and failed once again. Then he stopped and licked his finger.
Although she was very tight, the finger was small enough to go right in. He could feel the involuntary contractions that her body made in an effort to push it out. They weren't enough. He held the finger very stiff and pushed gently. Her backside opened up. He jabbed again and the finger disappeared. He had her up the ass!
He wiggled it around inside her, to see what it might feel like. Everything was tight and dry but the way she was squirming, he knew she could feel something. And it had to be good to make her squirm like that. He wiggled it again and heard her moan. This was more like what he had expected. He continued to wiggle the finger until her whole ass was in motion.
Then he drew it out again. It was time for bigger things. He grabbed his cock and quickly held it in place. He pressed forward. At first the tight anus stopped him but he continued to press his attack. Slowly she yielded to him. The tightness stretched back and the head of his prick disappeared so slowly that it seemed to be a miracle when it was finally all inside. But he had won his victory. Now she was his. Now it was only a matter of time before he could shove the rest of his prick inside her and bore out the tight hole. Again he pressed forward. His cock went in deeper. This time she didn't feel quite so tight.
It was funny the way the muscles worked back there, Jane thought as her father fucked her ass. One minute they were so tight and the next moment everything seemed to loosen up like jelly. And then, when she least expected it, her body suddenly contracted and tightened on him like a vise. The fact that she couldn't control it made it more exciting. It was like playing a game. It was a game. A delicious game. And even the pain which she still couldn't help feeling was delicious to her.
Her father was fucking her slowly. Perhaps they would go all night. For some reason which she couldn't explain, Jane suddenly remembered Mindy. She wondered if Mindy was busy now. If she wasn't... Or at least she could ask. She turned back to her father, not quite sure if she could say it. "Daddy... There's this other girl ... She sort of likes me . . . Perhaps we could get her, too."
Joe almost choked on his tongue when he heard it but he liked the idea. At first he was reluctant to stop what he was doing but Jane volunteered to go out into the hall. She drew a robe around her but it didn't really cover very much. She no longer cared. All she could think of was her own pleasure. That would be enough. She stuck her head out the door and saw a girl she didn't know. She asked if Mindy was free. She described her to the girl. The girl said she didn't know and Jane would have to ask Lydia. Lydia was downstairs but she heard the conversation. Immediately she guessed what her guest wanted, she was delighted by the idea. In fact, as she sent Mindy up the stairs, she followed behind her. There was a panel in the next room and she wanted to watch. There weren't many things that happened around her house that she found that interesting, but this looked as though it might be one.
Mindy closed the door behind her and looked at Joe with surprise. She had thought that Jane was alone. She saw the brown streaks on Joe's prick as she looked at Jane. But Jane just took her arm. "Please. . . Help us." Jane quickly got back on the bed. This time Joe didn't have as much trouble getting his cock in. Back in the saddle, he began to fuck his daughter's ass. This time he did not try to go slow.
Mindy slipped out of her robe and joined them on the bed. After all the men she had for the evening it was a treat for her to suck a woman's twat. She lay on her back and crawled under Jane s belly. Joe's cockmeat was jabbing in and out of Jane's ass but her twat was still free. Mindy covered it with her lips. Her hand found Jane's tit. With her other hand she stroked Joe's balls. Perhaps later they would eat her out.
But now it was father and daughter. That was the important thing. Joe fucked with all he had. He wanted to feel his hot load up her ass. He wanted her to feel a father's love. All eight inches of it. And a little wet stuff at the end. He rammed it into her hard. He could feel his balls tightening up. Jane felt her ass tighten as it tried to trap his prick. Suddenly, the tightness disappeared. He was filling her with spunk. Hot wet gobs were being flung into her bowels. Hot thrills were shooting up her spine. Whatever her father's tongue had not accomplished, Mindy's tongue had. It had bathed her cunt and wet her clit, and helped release the most delicious orgasm. Jane let it happen. Never again would she resist something so nice. Everything that had happened had been hard on her, but she had learned her lesson. She had learned it well. Her father's fuck was filling her rectum. A girl's tongue was washing her cunt. In a few more minutes she would be giving some of the same. And it was only fair. To give is better than to receive. The minister had forgotten to tell her that. But still she had learned it. She swore she would never forget.
