"Sex Sated Minister" - читать интересную книгу автора (Conroy Paul)

Chapter 2

Shocked and horrified, Susan and Davey slowly climbed down off the chairs. They had watched the entire thing.

What an evil woman. She had totally corrupted their wonderful father, drawing him into sinful ways of carnal lust and sin. She had degraded him, bringing him down to the level of the animals.

True, their real mother hadn't been much fun. She seemed to go overboard, even as far as her children were concerned when it came to religion, but she had taught them well as far as sex was concerned. This was something Susan knew she could never condone. The marriage between her father and this evil woman had to be broken up. He had to be brought back to the paths of righteousness again.

Silently, she and Davey carried the chairs back to the kitchen.

"Al Lasten was right," Davey whispered in a horrified voice.

"No," Susan insisted. "His evil ideas are wrong. And we must convince daddy of the error of his ways. He must be made to see the light."

"It's gonna take a lotta convincing," Davey insisted. "Heck, daddy sure looked like he was enjoying himself."

"She must have him under some kind of spell," Susan insisted. "Otherwise daddy would never do such a thing."

"How can you be so sure?" Davey wanted to know.

"Davey, you saw daddy put his face between Betty's thighs. Now tell me, would you put your face between my thighs?"

"Heck, I never thought about it."

"Davey, I urinate from there. Would you want to lick over there?"

"Gosh, I guess not."

"So you see, daddy is under some kind of spell."

"Maybe, but don't forget, she was suckin' on his thing, too. Maybe they were both hypnotized."

"She's evil. This means she likes doing things like that Didn't you see the way she used her tongue on daddy's behind? And she made him do the same thing to her. She's a vile, terrible woman."

"Ah, come on, Susan. She's always nice to us. She doesn't try telling us what to do. She takes us to church on Sunday, even though daddy won't go near the place. If she was evil, she would never be able to get into the church."

"The devil works in mysterious ways, Davey."

"Now you're starting to sound like ma. Don't forget, we stayed with pa so we could get away from ma and all her crazy spouting."

"Still, I'll bet ma could tell us what to do."

"Are you kidding? Ma thinks pa's too far gone for redemption. If we ever told her what he was doing, she'd only laugh and say he was getting what was coming to him for hangin' around with such a Jezebel."

"Still, I wish there was something we could do."

"Well when you got it figured out, you tell me," Davey said, and walked away.

Susan felt so terribly alone. Not only that, but she had funny feelings inside her. Watching what her father and stepmother had done had awakened new sensations in the girl. As far as she was concerned these were evil sensations. But she was certain she had enough intestinal fortitude to fight these feelings. She must never allow herself to surrender to the sins of flesh.

Going outside, she started walking the length of the block. She needed some air.

She had to see her mother. There were no two ways about it. She was certain her mother would be able to explain just why what she saw was evil.

Her mother lived on the other side of town, now. The circulating rumors claimed she had met her present husband, Ezekiel Stokes, while she had still been married to Susan's father. It was because she'd had so much in common with the man that she'd eventually consented to divorcing Ira Frank.

Susan had not seen her mother since that day in court, when she and Davey announced they preferred living with their father. She had never seen the man her mother had married, after, nor had she had any kind of contact with her mother. There was no doubt the woman was bitter at having been abandoned by her children.

Going to the corner, Susan found a phone booth. Inside was a local directory, and she looked up the address.of Ezekiel Stokes. The only Ezekiel Stokes listed was the Reverend Ezekiel Stokes, and he lived on Conestoga Avenue. That was the Black part of town. Susan wondered why her mother and her stepfather want to live there.

Susan took a bus to the other side of town. Once there, she became apprehensive and frightened. The streets were dingier than where she lived. Not that the people didn't try to keep things clean. But the houses were thirty years older than the houses in her own neighborhood. Many of them were in disrepair because the people simply couldn't afford to make necessary repairs.

By the time she reached Conestoga Avenue, she began to feel better. Her town had never had any kind of a reputation for violence. There was no reason to be afraid just because she was a white girl in the heart of black territory.

She found the house where her mother now lived. A worn path led around to the rear, and she followed it. The front windows were all boarded up, anyway.

Voices were coming from an open window at the rear of the house. Peering in, Susan saw she was staring into a living room. Four Black men were sitting around, and standing in the center of the room was her mother.

"Abigail," the largest of the Negro men said. "Are you prepared for your weekly purification rite?"

"Yes, Ezekiel, yes," she whispered fervently, her eyes closed.

"You understand that what is being done is being done in the name of good. You must do everything I say."

Ezekiel? Her mother had married a Negro? And he was a religious fanatic in addition to everything else. But what kind of religion did he practice? But then her mother certainly wouldn't have married anyone other than one of her own religion.

"Undress!" the booming voice of Ezekiel Stokes insisted.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders. But aside from an icon he wore, there was nothing about him to denote his being a reverend. He had on a tee shirt and Levi's, as did the other three men sitting around.

Susan was stunned by his order that his wife, her own mother, undress, and in front of the other men, too. She stared, holding her breath as her mother removed her white blouse, letting it fall to the floor. Then she unhooked her dark skirt and stepped out if it. A few moments later she had discarded all her underclothing, as well. She stood totally naked in front of the four black men.

Susan noticed Stokes carried a silken cord with a knot at the end, and he used it now to touch her mother's midriff. It took a lot of willpower on Susan's part not to scream. She jammed her knuckles into her mouth, watching as her mother stood there proudly, saying, "Yes, my husband. Yes, scourge me. Whip me, and drive the beast from my body," But all the whip did was tease.

All four men were staring hungrily at her, and Susan wondered why they were permitted to watch this debasement of her mother. She could see the tight pants of each man bulging at the crotch. And her mother's long brown hair cascaded down her white back like a dark waterfall as she stood there, glorying in the tantalizing her husband was applying. She acted as if he were whipping her.

"Kneel!" Stokes ordered, and his White wife complied.

Susan watched as her mother's closed eyes refused to see anything. She bent forward, raising her buttocks high in the air, shuddering in anticipation of the blows her husband could be dealing her. Susan could see her mother's smooth, untouched buttocks.

Her mother had been receiving this kind of treatment for some time. Not only that, but from the rapt expression her mother wore, it was obvious the woman was enjoying it.

Ezekiel Stokes slowly drew the silken strand across his wife's up thrust posterior, almost as if caressing it with his flail. Abigail felt the silken cord slide across her rear like a gliding snake, and she shivered. Then it slid back the other way, teasing her, making her gasp. It began sliding back again, a little faster this time, and then it was moving back and forth across her buttocks like a strop honing a razor. And then, when the titillation became too much for her, she suddenly imagined the silken cord bit into both cheeks at once as her husband drew it lightly over her ass. The silken, knotted strand rubbed excitingly into her glutei cheeks. It began moving back and forth across her cheeks, something tickling two at once, sometimes teasing only the right cheek, sometimes kissing only the left cheek. Snick! Snick! Snick! Wheet! Wheet! Wheet! The lash accelerated its journey, vexing her again and again, yet making no marks in any way on her tender white bottom.

Abigail shivered with each touch. When her buttocks tightened, bracing for the hard whip, she suddenly felt the silk slide delicately across.

Then, when her body was loose and she no longer expected a chastising blow, the whip came down with a light THWACK! Her head hung limply forward now, with her long brown hair falling over her eyes. Her back was shining with a sheen of perspiration as something was happening between her thighs, building as the punishment continued.

"We're driving the devil out of you between your cuntlips," Ezekiel Stokes intoned.

"Yes, yes, yes," Abigail screamed, anticipating the unfelt stings in addition to the soft strokes, and the suspense of not knowing what kind of blow would fall made her watering cunt itch with excitement.

Stokes continued his methodical teasing, staring at her buttocks. He had come to know those white buttocks quite well. With the passing of time he had come to understand every movement of them. Soon she would be ready for the next step.

Susan stared into the shining eyes of the black man and realized there was no hate in him. At least it wasn't any type of racial hate. Whatever he did, he did because he believed it needed doing. Though his religion might be the same as her own and that of her mother, his methods of practicing it were different. Even so, Susan felt he had no right to chastise. She, herself, would not have accepted it. Yet her mother was glorying in it.

Abigail's back was aglow, shining with perspiration. Anguish seeped into her flesh, all the way down. The quivering, gelatinous flesh though untouched, seemed hurt. And her smooth white skin was trembling. The delicate trailing of the silken cord across her flesh seemed to burn now. Her ass had become an unreal trembling mass of thorough and continuous agony and degradation. The evil was being forced out of her, or so she believed.

Abigail's face under the strands of hair covering it had become a twitching agony. When she opened them, through a red mist she could barely see anything because of her hair in the way.

As Susan stared, aghast, she saw Ezekiel Stokes motion to the other three men to undress. What new degradation did he have in mind?

He pushed his foot into the side of his wife's ass, and she toppled over on the floor, onto her side. Abigail stared up at her husband's towering black physique as he, too, stripped. His mighty cock stuck out like a gigantic flagpole, and with the large pink knob on the end, it resembled a flagpole.

Susan was amazed at the sight of the phallus. It dwarfed her father's. No human pussy could hold the full length of that immense log.

Abigail stared at the erection, too. Where she had disdained the evil phallus of her first husband, she worshiped the huge dick attached to this man, her second husband. He didn't use his penis evilly, as her first husband had done. Each time he probed into her with any part of it, he cleansed her body and soul of the evils seeping into her.

Reaching down, Stokes entwined his fingers in his wife's hair and tugged her erect. His throbbing penis smacked her face and she kissed it on both sides. Finally she opened her mouth and took the immense bowsprit between her lips, sucking softly on the ebony meat. Stokes gently began pushing more and more of his great prod into her mouth. It seemed to swell as it went in, filling her cheeks, making them puff out. The glans of his phallic extension was the size and thickness of a Baldwin apple. Its rich, gamey taste made Abigail's mouth salivate with the need for more of it. Her sputum drooled all over the mighty penal wand as if it were some kind of rare steak.

Susan saw one of the other men move behind her mother and press his hand into her pouting pussy.

Abigail felt her rosy pussylips being spread wide apart as a finger pressed the hard, throbbing nubbing of her aching clitoris.

"Mmmmmoooommmphhhh… " Abigail muttered, letting the hand in her pussy know she wanted more. This was her punishment for even daring to feel any kind of lust inside her. She had to be reamed out by all these phalluses, until her vaginal chamber was so sore she would have paid for her lustful cravings. Ira, her first husband, had contributed to these wicked licentious cravings by making her want more for the sake of enjoying it. Ezekiel, her present husband, understood all. When he pushed his heavy cock into her mouth, her cunt, or her ass, it was to punish her and push the evil cravings out. As the big Black finger pushed into her tight pussy, she writhed her cunt around and around. Frantically she pushed her head lower on her husband's thrusting cock, nibbling at the huge prick with her teeth while she licked it with her tongue. She had to coax that orgasm out of him and fill her mouth with his gism.

She heard Stokes moan and then shove more of his throbbing meat into her mouth, feeling the bulbous head now press into her throat, widely opening her esophagus. It made her gag and choke. Good! The more he shoved into her throat, the more it hurt her, the more she would pay for the evil invading her body. It filled her mouth and gullet, pressing against her pharynx, cutting off all air. She had to breathe through her nose, inhaling frantically, smelling the musky scent of her husband's pelvis. Her head frenetically turned and twisted as it fitted the full length of hard cock all the way down her throat.

Susan watched as Stokes jammed his groin closer to his wife's face, grinding his prong all the way in, then tugging it all the way back. How could her mother bear to do such things?

Abigail felt the heavy flesh plunging ever deeper, clogging her gullet completely, blocking off all air from her larynx, and only the strongest kind of self-control kept her from retching. Had she vomited, she might have strangled to death on her own upchuck, what with the way Stokes's throbbing mass of meat so totally plugged her throat. Her eyes were glued to the wiry hairs on his dark pubis as they moved toward her, then away, toward her, then away. Each time the hairs approached her, she felt another thrust of his weighty log as it eased itself into the tight, clutching depths of her narrow esophagus.

"Woman!" Stokes yelled. "Prepare for thy first libation. Remember, thou must swallow all. There shall be no tell-tale drops of white. Suffer not to permit a single drop to escape."

Her hands reached out and gripped his asscheeks, pulling him close to her as she began bobbing her head back and forth vigorously, anxious to feel the cleansing drops of her husband's semen pulse down her throat. And then she heard him call out, "Lord! The woman repents. Save herrrrrrrr… aaaaaaaagggggghh-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… "

His thick hunk of black hose began spurting its white, burning liquid semen as it jammed itself as far into "her throat as it could go. It swelled, pulsated, throbbed, and fired load after load all the way down her gullet straight into her quivering belly. He jammed his meat so far down her throat, she found breathing totally impossible and was ready to pass out. And then the mighty spear retreated from inside her throat.

Falling back, she gasped and wheezed, trying to breathe. When she saw a drop of white form on the shrinking head of her husband's dark prong, she instantly leaned forward and licked it off.

Her asscheeks trembled as the hand clutching her pink pussylips released them and pulled away. Lubrication began pouring out from between her thighs in heavy gouts. She clawed at the air, seeking some kind of fulfillment, forgetting for a moment she was there to be cleansed.

And then the silken quirt like whip teased her creamy buttocks, reminding her, her own satisfaction was not to be attained. To do so would mean she had capitulated to the Devil.

"More!" she begged. "Hit me again, hit me harder. I am evil. I need to be cleansed." In her mind she had been beaten.

Her buttocks were still up in the air, and Stokes motioned to one of the "brothers" to proceed. The black man moved around to her rear and guided his dry cock to the squeezing, puckered orifice of her rectum. The solid, rounded knob seemed to strain itself against the squeezing sphincter of Abigail's ass. This was also a thick cock, though not nearly as thick as that of Ezekiel Stokes. Now it was her ass about to be plundered. The hard cock slowly pushed, forcing the sphinctral ring to finally open. Then, little by little it wedged its way into her anal passageway. Her ass seemed to protest the prodding intrusion, and Abigail felt the walls of her hot rectum stretch the way her fiery cunt had each time Stokes stroked his masterful prong into it.

The man ramming his hard prick into her rectum seemed to be enjoying himself. The more his prong pushed, the more her ass-channel resisted. The woman squirmed in delighted agony, thrilling to the plundering penis as it thrust its way deeper. Her inner membranes were dry, and the pressure of the in thrusting penis tore her tissues, slightly. Blood seeped into her ass-channel, lubricating it, making it slightly easier for the ebony plunger to sink farther in.

"Now sit up," Stokes commanded, once he was sure the other Black's throbbing penis was buried to the hilt in his wife's ass. "Press Daryl's cock between your white tits."

"Yes, yes," the woman nodded, slowly sitting back in spite of the cock filling her ass. She felt the longest penis of the group press itself against her chest. It was also the thickest, making that of Ezekiel Stokes look like a matchstick. It looked as if it had been made to be used on elephants.

Her hands pressed her full white globes with the pink centers against the pulsating penis. The contrast between her white breasts and the black prong locked between them was starkly evident. And the hard thrusting of its black head against her chest was painful, though not nearly as painful as the lancing black prick continually throbbing back and forth in her aching ass. Her anal walls continually contracted against the in pushing cock, keeping the rasping pressure rubbing its way through her ass again and again. Her wet pelvis shuddered back and forth as her husband reached down and began pinching her clitoris. He squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger, applying so much pressure she was certain he would pinch it off. He did this every week, and every week the pull was so intense she was sure he would castrate her clitoris from the rest of her body. If such a thing happened, it would be because God thought her unworthy of retaining that ultra-sensitive portion of her body. She didn't deserve even this goodness from her new husband. But it never happened, and never would.

The plunging penis between her breasts kept slamming into her ribcage, and she was certain he would one day stab right through to her heart. Had Ira Frank, her first husband tried something like this, she was certain it would have been for lewd, unspeakable reasons. There was no goodness in that man. But Ezekiel and his deacons were all doing their best to see to it she ended up in Heaven. Each week they purified her. It was a Sunday ritual, and it made her soul free to be purged this way.

"I'm gonna… uhhhh… come," Daryl gasped. "Oh Lord! I'm gonna shoot a cockful of hot gism."

"Into her face," Ezekiel Stokes intoned. "Every last drop of your fluid must go into my wife's face. And Abigail, you are to refrain from licking at it with your tongue. You must use your hands to wash the liquid all over your face and throat."

"Yes dear," Abigail intoned. "Yes, of course. I'll do whatever is right."

"You're a good woman, Abigail," Ezekiel told her. 'The Lord looks down on you with delight, knowing you suffer abasement for the sake of goodness."

"Yeeeeeeeaaaaaah man!" Daryl bellowed, and suddenly screamed, "Eyahhhhhooooooooo!" and began blasting his wad up into Abigail's face. Shot after shot of white spunk hit her cheeks, her eyebrows, her nose and her lips. But not one drop penetrated those lips. With her hands she rubbed the sperm into her face and throat, smearing it into her pores. And when Daryl's meat finished shooting, he pressed the tip against her cheek, smearing off the last couple of drops.

Still rubbing the spunk into her face, Abigail fell forward, letting the heavy cock in her ass penetrate even more deeply. Her buttocks rotated madly, as Abigail began to feel her nerve-endings within being titillated. And then the man called out a "Here I go, brothers… " and yelped a "Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhh mannnnnn!"

Suddenly his burning hot sperm was flushing its way through her anal corridor up into her colon. The hot seed washed through her body splashing itself all over her inner walls.

"Present your asses to my wife, brothers," Stokes insisted.

The three men kneeled in front of Abigail, facing away from her, letting their buttocks wave in the air.

"Lick them all," Stokes insisted. "This is to be the final tribulation before Brother Gregory plunges his righteous staff into your venerial den of iniquity."

And so Abigail went over to each of the black asses in turn and proceeded to let her tongue lick up and down through the rectal creases. And when she was finished, she fell supine on the floor, parting her white thighs, waiting for the initial thrust of the final man.

Susan could watch no more, she tore herself away from the window and began running up the pathway to the street. Once there, she kept on running until she was in the middle of town. There, she grabbed a bus heading toward her home.

How horrible. How absolutely horrible. To think, her mother, who used to preach against sex, was now punishing herself by gourmandizing her tender flesh with the bodies of so many men at once in the name of purification. In Susan's eyes her mother was committing greater evil now than she had claimed Susan's father had committed when he insisted on fucking her for enjoyment.

At least Ira Frank received pleasure from what he did. Susan realized it might not have been the righteous thing to do, but it was less evil than doing the same thing for punishment.

It was plain her mother had no answers for her. How could she when she was performing worse evils. As far as Susan was concerned, there was no salvation for her mother, now.

Yet, through it all, Susan did understand one thing. It was possible to use one's own body in a purification rite. The question, of course, was how? How did one use one's body to cleanse other bodies? Surely not the way her mother's body was used. If there was pleasure in using the body evilly, then the only way to wean one away from evil was to fight that evil by offering her own body with greater pleasure, but if that was the case, perhaps Betty was not using her body for evil purposes after all. Betty was married to her father. She was giving her body freely to her father to use as he saw fit. Perhaps this was what her father was meant to have because of the stubbornness of Abigail, his first wife.

No! No! Somehow it just couldn't all be right. Father was enjoying his sexual relationship with Betty. According to Susan's mother, that was all wrong. Sex was not to be enjoyed, but suffered, until all the children were conceived. Then it no longer need be practiced. But her mother, who did not intend having any more children was enjoying herself through suffering. Enjoyment either way was probably a sin. And sex was used both ways. This was a problem Susan had to ponder. The solution was there. All she had to do was look for it.