Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Something Better

   by Ozmanga

   Chapter 7 Saturday Morning

   3,405 words

   "They are up to something," said Mary as she soaked in the warm bath
after satisfying Pip's and Byron's morning glories.  "They'd no sooner
finished fucking me than they were out of bed and into their shower.  They
usually laze around until breakfast is ready."

   Her husband gently soaped her neck and shoulders and when she lay back
in the scented water used the soft sponge to caress her large breasts and
big brown nipples.  She sighed at Jeremy's sensitive touch.  Through
half-closed eyes she noted his erection was growing.  Practice, she
thought, makes perfect.  She reached out to fondle his balls something
neither of them would have wanted ten days ago.

   "I suspect it has to do with the Jefferson twins' eighteenth birthday,"
said Jeremy.  They've reached the age of consent and, judging by the way
they have been hanging around our guests, all the twins require by way of
courtship is a raised eyebrow."

   "Maybe." said Mary.  "Come here." She drew him to the side of the bath
and took his tumescent cock into her mouth.  Jeremy was more than gratified
at her action he was aroused and responded with pleasure at her skillful
use of her lips, tongue and mouth.  When he came she directed the spurts of
seed into the bath.

   Pip banged on the door.  "Come on, whore.  Where's our breakfast?

   "Thank you, darling," the vicar said.  "I'm sorry my foolishness brought
us to this."

   "Was I better than Teddy?" she asked, climbing out of the bath and into
the towel Jeremy held ready.

   He nodded."Much." He nearly meant it.

   *** The young woman in Pool Side Hut three, Suite three, struggled
against the thin ropes that held her bound tightly to a stout wooden coffee
table.  She could see the sunrise through the one-way window that opened
onto the pool.  She could hear her tormentor in the bathroom and was
terrified he would resume the pattern of pain and pleasure he inflicted on
her during the long night.  Her whole body throbbed with the pain of his
caning.  Her clothes hung in tatters and her pussy and anus were swollen
and sore from frequent and forceful use.  Her breasts ached and her nipples
felt as though they had been peeled.  She could still taste him in her
mouth.

   The man had surprised her when he let himself into the suite last night.
She had been looking outside where she could see through the
floor-to-ceiling window naked swimmers splashing in the warm water of the
pool.  Other men and women did things Olivia had only heard about in
whispered conversations in the school dormitory or noted fleetingly on the
net.  As she looked a large blonde woman paused outside the window and
appeared to look in.  The blonde fluffed her affro-hairstyle then spread
her legs so she could stroke her completely hairless pudendum with one hand
and rub her full pendulous breasts with the other.  Olivia took a backward
step.

   "It's a mirror to her," said the bishop.  "She can't see in.  She is
narcissistic and is making love to herself.  Masturbating.  Do you
masturbate, Olivia?"

   The young woman jumped when she heard his voice.  She had not heard him
enter.  She colored and stammered.  "How do you know my name?" She was tall
with a good figure and a mop of curly black hair.  Her big brown eyes were
staring wildly at the interloper.  She was wearing the simple floral
pattern dress and smart shoes she had chosen for the job interview.  Olivia
thought she knew his face but couldn't say from where.

   "Your name was on the key ring Madam Carla gave me.  I asked you a
question.  Do you masturbate, Olivia?"

   Olivia shook her head.

   "Liar!"said the bishop and he slapped her hard on the side of her head.
She stumbled and fell face down on the double bed that occupied about a
quarter of the luxuriously appointed room.  He pounced on her and ripped
the floral print dress she was wearing from neck to hem so her smooth back
was exposed.

   "Everyone your age masturbates, Olivia.  And young women who lie get
spanked" He tugged her candy-striped cotton panties down her thighs.  He
pinned her to the bed with one hand and with the other gave her nicely
rounded rump six very hard slaps that left bright red hand prints on her
pink flesh.

   Olivia screamed and shed hot tears but no-one heard her other than
Bishop Carmine and he liked what he heard.  He let her go and crossed the
room to a wardrobe.  The room key opened the wardrobe door to reveal a
neatly arranged collection of ropes and straps and canes.  Ball-gags and
ring gags hung on hooks above an impressive array of dildos of various
shapes and sizes.  He selected a plain whippy cane about as thick as his
middle finger.  The bishop turned to face Olivia who had stood and pulled
her pants up over her burning buttocks.

   When the frightened woman saw the cane in Carmine's hand she let out
another scream and scrabbled desperately at the door.

   "There's no escape, Olivia" said Carmine.  "Go to the window.  See what
your blonde friend has found."

   Despite herself Olivia turned and saw that while she had been spanked
the blonde had attracted a pot-bellied lover.  The man, even as the blonde
continued to masturbate, inserted his rigid cock between her ass cheeks and
thrust.  The blonde's concentration on her reflection didn't waver.

   "That's sodomy, Olivia.  It hurts the first time.  So I believe does
losing your virginity.  But you must decide what hurts more the flogging
I'm going to give you or surrendering your pussy and your ass to my cock,
which is considerably bigger than fatso's out there.  Come over here.  I'll
show you." He unzipped his pants and unfolded a cramped and growing
erection."

   Olivia looked at him and, realizing the hopelessness of her position,
broke into tears.  She fell on her knees.

   "Please," she begged.  "Don't hurt me any more.  I thought it was a
country club when I applied for the job of cabin maid.  I was a student at
the college and passed the gates lots of times.  My visa ran out.  No one
told me what really went on here.  When Madam Carla interviewed me two days
ago I realized it was just one big brothel.  I'm a virgin.  I'm not
qualified!"

   "Oh, but you are, Olivia," said Bishop Carmine in his most soothing
voice." He reached for her mop of tight curls, pulled her head down to his
lap and pressed his growing erection between her lips.  He rightly judged a
polite young virgin like Olivia wouldn't bite him.  "Just suck this until
it grows some more," he said.  "And then I'll show you just how qualified
being a virgin makes you in my eyes."

   ***

   "Where are they going in such a hurry?" asked Mary as she and Jeremy
finished their breakfast and watched their uninvited guests drive away from
the Manse.

   "Jefferson's Farm," said Jeremy.  "But it's nothing to do with the twins
directly.  I heard them talking about the help they've been giving Matthew
and Samantha with some building.  I'm surprised, I didn't think the farm
could afford to hire help."

   "You're right.  They can't.  The riding school is the only thing that
keeps them going financially, according to Samantha."

   "Why don't you drive over and see what they're up to.  Get dressed. 
I'll do the washing up.  I'll use the dishwasher."

   Mary, not having been told by Pip what to wear, put on bra and panties
and a cotton dress with a modest hemline.  She slipped on some sandals and
a straw hat and took the Toyota to Jefferson's Farm.

   When she arrived there was no sign of the young men and she was greeted
in the yard by Samantha and the twins.  She wished the girls happy birthday
and they danced away to help the working party.  Wearing stretch denim
jeans and identical tops that accentuated their small pointed breasts the
two young women could not be told apart.  Samantha said the twins were
helping to put that was putting the finishing touches to some
accommodation. Samantha invited Mary in for a coffee.  After exchanging the
usual pleasantries and small-talk, Mary asked what accommodation the boys
were helping with.  In reply she got a quizzical stare from the blue-eyed
Samantha.

   "They haven't told you yet?" she asked.

   "No," said Mary.  "Is it a surprise?"

   "If they haven't told you , Mary my dear, you will be surprised when
they do.  I see you're in your Mrs.  Vicar's outfit.  Matthew will be
disappointed.  He finds those jodhpurs of yours worn without knickers a big
turn-on.  He can't wait to peel them off you and get between your thighs,"
said Samantha smiling wickedly.

   Mary, unused to such language from Samantha, was stunned.  She started
to bristle.  "Really!  Samantha "

   "Oh, come," said Samantha.  "Stop pretending.  Those lads have been in
your bed every night since they arrived.  You've blossomed.  I saw how
sexually frustrated you were before they arrived, remember.  You were ready
to tumble my Matthew in the hay.  They've made you dress like a whore and I
dare say, fuck like one but you walk like a goddam goddess."

   "Dammit, they raped me!" responded Mary angrily.

   "Yeah?" said Samantha sarcastically.  "That's what they all say.  Tell
me, when this alleged rape took place, did you come?"

   Mary, remembering the shock of her first encounter with the cousins and
the subtle manipulation of her clitoris by Byron's capable fingers blushed.
She was angry at Samantha's unusual directness and said weakly.  "It
doesn't matter if I did "

   "And why didn't you report it?"

   "They they knew something bad about Jeremy and then they took pictures.
I can't report it."

   "Hah," sneered Samantha.  "You don't know who they are, do you?  Your
disadvantaged city youths?"

   "A couple of over-sexed young hoodlums who have taken advantage of at
least three households as they play a sadistic game of blackmail, threats
of harm and outright brutality including multiple and serial rape.  They
avoid final confrontation by saying they will one day move to something
better."

   "You've got them all wrong, Mary.  I know who they are.  I user to work
for their mother.  They are clever, well educated and not without
influence. They are following a plan.  Let me tell you "

   One of the twins burst into the room.

   "Oh, good.  You haven't gone.  Pip says you're to follow me and come and
see what they have just finished," she said with a grin.  "Sam can come
too."

   "Sounds like your master calls," said Sam.  "Let's go."

   The two women followed Sandra or Sarah as she skipped across the farm
yard and down a track that led to the building Mary had been told earlier
accommodated the students who attended Summer Horse Camp.  Mary noticed
bars had been newly placed and painted outside all the windows.  She had an
uneasy feeling as they entered the building from the porch situated at the
midpoint of the longest side that she was entering a prison.

   Inside the front door was a desk.  "Reception," said Samantha.  "Not
finished yet but all the rooms are ready.  Five each side of the corridor
to your left, each with its own little shower and john.  Same as before,
really, except the bars on the windows and the strong points set in floor
and ceiling."

   "What for," asked Mary, genuinely puzzled.

   Samantha looked at Mary and shook her head.  "On your right," she said,
"are three unfinished rooms.  Including the one Pip no doubt wishes to show
you.  Sarah, lead the way to the punishment room."

   Sarah proudly opened the first door in the corridor to the right of the
reception area and ushered Mary and Samantha through.

   The room was big and smelled of newly planed timber, varnish and paint.
There were two structures in the center of the room.  The tallest was a
pillory with a head-board adjustable for height and the other was a very
long wooden-framed bed with a windlass top and bottom.  Other bits and
pieces lay about the floor.  Pip, Byron and Matthew proudly regarded their
handiwork while the twins turned cartwheels down the length of the room.

   "My word," said Pip.  "Don't you look prim and proper.  What do you
think of our carpentry, Mary."

   Mary was relieved Pip was sticking to the convention they had
established of polite usage in public.  Hopefully it meant no indignity was
planned.  But when she saw Matthew's lustful stare and jean-bulging
erection she was not so sure.

   "I I think you're very clever, Pip.  The pillory looks very efficient
and I take it that the rack just needs ropes attached to the rollers to
make it work."

   Byron said, "And a naked woman attached to the ropes for the full
effect. Any volunteers?"

   Samantha laughed cruelly and told him to get the machine working first
then she turned to Mary.

   "Why don't you try out the pillory, Mary?" she said.

   As if Samantha's question was a pre-arranged signal, the twins agreed
enthusiastically and each took one of Mary's hands and pulled her to the
well-built wooden structure.  Pip raised the hinged top-section.

   "Let me take your hat," said Samantha as she gripped Mary's neck and
forced it in the central groove of the lower board.  The twins did the same
with Mary's wrists and Pip lowered the top board to secure the vicar's wife
in the pillory.

   Mary held back a plea for them to stop.  Perhaps, she thought, they only
mean to frighten me.

   "The board slides up and down the vertical frame," said Pip.  "Here, let
me show you." He adjusted some pegs at the sides of the frame and pressed
down The head-board slid smoothly down its guides and Mary was forced to
kneel before her neck broke.  Then he slid it back up so Mary's head was
held at waist height.  She struggled to her feet.

   "Fasten her legs," said Pip and the twins hastened to strap a leather
cuff to each of Mary's ankles and clip them onto ring-bolts set in the
device's floor.  This left the vicar's wife head down, ass up and legs
spread wide.

   Mary started to protest but her pleas were met with mocking laughter and
she resigned herself to yet another shameful humiliation.

   The twins began it by complaining that because of her dress and
brassiere no one could see, let alone play with, her lovely tits.  Pip used
his flick knife and in seconds the floral print and cotton bra were in
tatters on the floor.  The twins, encouraged by Pip and Byron knelt either
side of Mary and tenderly played with her unfettered bosom.  Mary could not
see what the girls were doing but could hear their giggling.  Her nipples
began to respond to the gentle torment.  Despite her fears she felt her
pussy begin to moisten.

   "Samantha," cried Mary.  "Please, stop them." She couldn't see the
farmer's wife who was standing behind her beside an excited Matthew.  Nor
could she see the horseman.  He had shucked his boots and pants and was
stroking his cock in anticipation

   Samantha giggled.  "No, Mary," she said.  "They're doing you a favor. 
Matthew is a big boy and your pussy should be juicy for him."

   "No.  You're not going to let your husband rape me.  You can't!" gasped
Mary.

   "I can," said Samantha.  "As he told you, I like to watch.  You should
have listened to him." She sighed.  "And I like to do other things to
helpless, big-titted, blondes.  You'll see."

   "But you're my friend," wailed the helpless Mary.

   "Yeah.  But this is business," said Samantha.

   The twin's skilled play with fingers and mouths deployed against her
dangling breasts soon had Mary's juices flowing and she hardly felt
Samantha pull her panties down to allow Matthew's cock to slip into her
exposed vagina.  His cock was thinner than Pip's and shorter than Byron's
and he came after a short sharp burst of energy.  She faked an orgasm to
coincide with Matthew's climax and waited for the inevitable spit roast she
knew her posture was designed to serve.  Mary was not disappointed as, with
the twins enthusiastic support, Pip and Byron did their stuff.  Byron up
her ass and Pip down her throat.  They played to their audience and went at
her so hard and so long that she nearly passed out as she experienced her
final orgasm..

   When the young men had finished it was Samantha who stood in front of
the helpless Mary.  She had stripped naked and was rubbing herself slowly
up and down her slit, massaging her puffy cunt lips and touching her small
hooded clitoris.

   "Use your tongue, Mary," she panted.  "Show me how good a friend you
are."

   Mary shook her head in defiance but changed her mind after the third
stoke of a riding crop slashed a crimson wheal across her unprotected
buttocks.

   *** Gladys Wilson had not despaired of catching Mary in the act with Pip
or Byron, who she supposed were Mary's lovers.  Gladys was convinced Mary
had somehow fooled the kindly vicar into letting them stay in the Manse
where unholy liaisons were happening under his poor, unsuspecting, nose.

   So far her dossier of incriminating shots comprised of eight photographs
showing Mary Jones in a variety of tight, short, skirts and pants and
revealing tops.  She also had one picture of the scarlet trollop in riding
clothes that could have been painted on to her naked body descending the
stairs with one of her paramours adjusting his dress behind her.  This
Saturday she decided she would get the evidence she needed to convince
Jeremy his wife was up to no good.

   Sitting in her hide in the woods next to the Manse she saw Mary Jones
drive off in the vicar's auto and about an hour later saw the vicar himself
stroll down the lane towards the church.  The young men's Honda was not
parked in its usual spot.  Gladys decided the Manse was empty.

   Glady's crept into the empty house through the kitchen door.  She could
see nothing untoward in the kitchen.  A lap-top computer a note-book she'd
heard them called sat mutely on the reproduction welsh-dresser otherwise it
was much as she had seen it before.  She crossed the stone flagged floor
and headed up the stairs for the bedrooms.

   The woman was puzzled then shocked.  Only one bedroom seemed to be in
use, and strange use at that.  The floor was strewn with discarded clothes.
The bed was unmade and Gladys could see the sheets and eiderdown were
liberally spattered with stains.  So was the bedroom carpet.  A chain was
attached to one leg of the bed and the bed itself was surrounded by camera
stands.  Two digital cameras were mounted and one was on the floor by a
cluttered bed-side table.  On the other bed-side table lay a tube of gel
and a large black dildo.

   Gladys hurried down the stairs and would have left the house immediately
but she bumped into the dresser and jolted the lap-top.  The powerful
little computer had been in sleep mode.  It flickered into life.  The first
picture Gladys saw rooted her to the spot.  The seventeen centimeter screen
showed Mary Jones, wearing only an apron, on her hands and knees fondling
Pips knobbly cock while Byron explored the woman's ass.  Here was the
evidence she had sought to obtain!  The Jezebel, caught in the act.  But so
blatantly displayed that the vicar must have seen it.  Surely he couldn't
have taken the picture, she thought.  The picture faded and another
flickered into view and then another.  The presentation in fact it was the
screen saver was endless.  Each picture was a beautifully composed piece of
pornographic art.

   Not all of the pictures featured Mary.  Some were of a woman and her son
the nice young curate who Gladys had met at the vicar's wedding.  Others
were of another couple.  Gladys could not keep her eyes off the display and
she was still staring in disbelief at a picture of the Reverend Jones
grimacing in ecstacy as Byron nailed his naked ass when Pip pushed Mary
weak-kneed and wearing only sandals and a wide-brimmed hat through the
kitchen door.