Dark Desires

by Ray Gordon

  'When business is quiet, we won't be here,' the girl returned, her flushed face grimacing as Jenny's fingers drove deeper into her tight cunt. 'Kitty said we'd get a phone call when we're needed, so—'

  'Do you want the job or not?'

  'Well, I... I thought...'

  'Five, six, seven hundred a week? If you don't want that sort of cash, tax free, then—'

  'Of course we want it,' Carla chipped in. 'What Faye means is that we thought we'd be earning money from the punters. Not by having to put up with a lesbian bitch like you...'

  'I beg your pardon?' Jenny hissed, her fingers sliding out of Faye's sex duct as she stood up and walked across the room to the tethered girl. 'A lesbian bitch?'

  'I meant...'

  'You're determined to be the first to test the correction room, aren't you?' Jenny asked the naked girl, taking the thin bamboo cane from the floor and raising it above her head. 'You dare to call me a lesbian bitch?'

  'I...'

  'You've just made a grave mistake, young lady.' Watching the cane fly through the air and land across Carla's pert buttocks, Samantha winced. Jenny was a sadistic bitch, she reflected as Carla's yelps reverberated around the correction room. But the girls must have expected to be sexually abused. They could hardly play the part of naughty schoolgirls sent to the correction room to be dealt with by perverted men and hope to get off lightly. The girl should never have called Jenny a lesbian bitch, Samantha mused, focusing on the reddening flesh of Carla's naked buttocks. To call the woman names while Carla herself was bent over the wooden bar with her feet and ankles cuffed was asking for trouble.

  'You have a nice little bottom,' Jenny said, lowering the cane to her side. 'I have a strap-on dildo that you might find enjoyable. Have you ever had the pleasure of an arse-fucking?'

  'No, and I don't want it,' Carla riposted, struggling against the handcuffs.

  'If a punter wants to shove his cock up your arse and fuck you... I really don't think that Kitty did a good job of vetting you. You don't want this, you don't want that... What you do or don't want doesn't bother me,' Jenny giggled. 'This is my domain, Carla. And you are—'

  'Shall we stop this crap?' Faye cut in. 'We were supposed to be here for—'

  'Not you as well?' Jenny hissed. 'I can see that I'm going to have to teach you both a lesson you'll never forget.'

  Lashing Carla's naked buttocks with the cane, the woman was obviously possessed. Samantha could do nothing but watch as the girl's shrieks resounded throughout the correction room and Faye screamed her own protests. Again halting the gruelling punishment, Jenny took two metal clips from a shelf and stood in front of Faye. Pulling at the girl's elongated nipples, she fixed the clips over the sensitive protrusions and giggled as Faye gritted her teeth and grimaced. Taking two chains, she fixed them to the clips and hung heavy weights from the dangling ends. Faye's breasts became distended into taut cones of flesh and she whimpered as her mistress let out a wicked chuckle.

  'You'll pay for this,' Faye breathed, looking down at her painfully stretched and abused nipples.

  'This is a test,' Jenny announced. 'If you want to work for us, and earn yourself a fortune, then you'll have to pass the test.'

  'You mean that once we've passed the test we won't have to go through this again?' Carla asked in her naivety.

  'That's right,' Jenny replied. 'The idea is that, if you can endure whatever I put you through, then you'll be able to take anything from the customers. That, Carla, is why I'm going to continue with the caning.' She grinned, grabbing the bamboo stick and standing behind the trembling girl. 'Remember that this is purely a test.'

  Lashing the girl's glowing buttocks again, Jenny let out a grunt each time she brought the cane down. This was no test, Samantha knew as she watched the crazed woman thrashing the sobbing girl. The caning was purely to satisfy her lust for sadistic pleasure. Wondering why Gerry Andrews was involved in such a thing, Samantha pondered on his haunted-mansion scam. What was the point of it? Why run the risk of having people milling around the mansion looking for ghosts when he'd obviously have to keep the dancing school undercover? Nothing made sense, Samantha reflected, listening to the thrashed girl's screams as the cane repeatedly swiped the naked globes of her burning bottom. Samantha also wondered what Julie was up to. Deciding to phone to find out whether she'd got the names and addresses of the girls and the clients, she also thought it would be a good time to visit the perverted vicar again.

  Carla couldn't take much more, Samantha knew as she gazed in horror at the scarlet flesh of the girl's tensed buttocks. Again and again the cane swished through the air, cracking loudly across the fiery orbs of her naked arse, jolting her body as she let out piercing yelps. Her vaginal fluid streaming between her pouting vulval lips, coursing down the pale flesh of her inner thighs, Carla was nonetheless obviously deriving some pleasure from the gruelling beating.

  'Yes,' Jenny trilled as golden liquid suddenly flowed in rivers down Carla's thighs and splashed onto the floor between her feet. 'That's what I like to see.' Continuing with the merciless thrashing, Jenny struck the backs of the girl's slender thighs, delighting in her act of sexual torture as thin weals fanned out across her urine-wet flesh. Thrashing the girl harder, Jenny appeared to lose herself in the sadistic punishment. Moving back up to Carla's naked buttocks, she repeatedly lashed the scarlet globes of her bottom with the bamboo cane until the girl screamed out. Undeterred by her victim's pleas for leniency, she continued with the unmerciful beating until the cane snapped in two.

  'Let that be a lesson to you,' Jenny gasped, discarding the broken cane. 'And now for you, young lady,' she said, grinning wickedly as she walked towards Faye's tethered body.

  'My arms ache,' the girl complained, raising her head and looking up at her cuffed wrists.

  'Your arms ache?' Jenny said mockingly. 'Oh, you poor thing. I know what we'll do. To take your mind off your aching arms, I'll thrash the soft lips of your cunt.'

  'No, please...'

  'Your nipples are coming on nicely. Stretching into beautifully suckable little teats. I'll leave the weights to do their job while I thrash your cunt with a leather strap.'

  Dragging a high chair across the room, Jenny forced the girl to sit. Her arms high above her head, Faye could do nothing as the woman pulled two more chains down from the ceiling and fixed leather slings to the ends. Placing the girl's ankles in the slings, she moved to the wall and turned a handle. Watching her victim's feet rise, her legs opening wide, Jenny took a leather belt from a hook on the wall. Samantha gazed at Faye's full vaginal lips; the gaping valley of her vagina, as Jenny knelt on the floor in front of her victim. To slip her tongue into her lesbian valley of desire and lick her there... Trying to control her inner yearning; Samantha felt her panties filling with her pre-orgasmic juices. Perhaps the time had come to return to the tent and lick the cream out of Jane's hairless pussy crack.

  'Are you comfortable?' Jenny asked, breaking Samantha's reverie.

  'Hardly,' Faye retorted, her buttocks just resting on the chair, her naked body virtually hanging from her cuffed wrists and ankles.

  'That's what I like to see,' Jenny giggled. 'A girl's cunt gaping wide open, her cunt-milk streaming from her defenceless little hole...'

  'How long are we going to be chained up like this?' Carla asked.

  'For as long as it takes,' Jenny returned. 'The more you complain, the longer it will take.'

  Raising the leather belt, Jenny lashed Faye's naked vulval hillocks, the loud crack echoing around the correction room as the trembling girl let out an agonizing scream. The weights still hanging from her painfully stretched nipples, she grimaced and yelped as the leather belt lashed her stinging outer labia again. The pinken petals of her inner lips swelling with each swipe of the belt, she wriggled and squirmed, trying to bring her thighs together in an effort to protect the most sensitive part of her teenage body.

  Powerless to halt the gruelling thrashing of the girl's genitalia, Samanth
a could do nothing but watch the sexual torture. As lash after lash resounded around the room, Jenny continued with the cruel vulval thrashing, chuckling wickedly as the girl's naked pussy reddened beneath the punishing leather strap. Realizing that the lewd sight was heightening her own arousal, Samantha felt the hot juices of her pussy seeping into the tight material of her panties. She couldn't believe that the sexual torture was exciting her, sending her libido through the roof as she watched Faye's vulval flesh turning a fire-red.

  Watching the girl's cunt lips swelling to an incredible size as the genital strapping continued, Samantha wondered how much Faye could endure. Again and again, the leather belt lashed her crimsoned vaginal flesh. Her inner lips inflating, the inflamed red petals protruding from her gaping valley of lust, she screamed out as Jenny thrashed her harder. Samantha watched in awe as the girl's burning pussy lips ballooned, her juices of arousal streaming from the gaping entrance to her cunt. The belt striking the pale flesh of her inner thighs, lashing her vulval crack, Faye again screamed out in agony as her sadistic tormentor continued the genital torture.

  Finally discarding the leather strap, Jenny moved forward and ran her wet tongue up the full length of the girl's inflamed vaginal crack. Tasting her there, lapping up her flowing juices of lust, she forced the fleshy hillocks of her vulval lips wide apart and drove her tongue deep into the wet heat of her sex sheath. Gasping, her eyes closed, her naked body trembling uncontrollably, Faye was obviously enjoying the lesbian cunt-tonguing. Mouthing and slurping on her victim's vaginal flesh, Jenny drank from the helpless girl's vagina, sucking out her cunt-milk and swallowing hard until she'd drained the girl's sex sheath...

  Wondering what Zak was doing as she recalled his wet tongue running over the solid nub of her clitoris, Samantha found herself standing in Angela's lounge, staring at the young couple sitting on the sofa. Zak was complaining about money, saying that there was now no chance of getting his hands on Samantha's father's cash. That was all he'd wanted, Samantha reflected, watching Angela tugging his zip down and hauling his erect penis out of his trousers. As the girl lowered her head and sucked his purple crown into her wet mouth, Zak pushed her aside and leaped to his feet.

  'What the hell are we going to do?' he asked, zipping his trousers.

  'I was hoping to suck out your lovely sperm,' Angela giggled.

  'Ange, this is serious. I thought I'd be marrying Sam and... We've invested money in this and now...'

  'And now all you have to do is get Sam back,' Angela sighed. 'Get her back, marry her, and we'll be home and dry.'

  'That's easier said than done,' Zak breathed. 'Shit, I've spent money on her, thinking that...'

  'OK, so you've spent a couple of grand on a holiday and ring. Get her back, for Christ's sake. Get her back and—'

  'I'll ring her later. I'll say that you came on strong, led me on and all that. I'll proclaim my love for her and...'

  'And she'll take you back with open arms.'

  Samantha couldn't believe what she was hearing as she stood in the corner of the room and gazed at the scheming pair. Her father had plenty of money, but there was no way Zak was going to get his hands on it - even if he did marry Samantha. Zak was a bastard, that was for sure. To think that he'd not only been screwing her so-called best friend, but the evil pair had been after her father's money... Coming up with an idea, Samantha sat in an armchair and grinned.

  'Tell her that there was nothing in it,' Angela said. 'I'll speak to her and explain that we were attracted to each other but it was nothing more than ships passing in the night. If I make out that you want nothing to do with me any more, she'll come round.'

  'I hope so,' Zak sighed. 'What I want to know is how the fucking bitch found out about us. How did she know I was on your bed and—'

  'It doesn't matter how. The point is that she knows and now you've got to sort it out.'

  'Yes, you're right. When I told her father about my business plans he seemed pretty interested. I was sure that he was going to invest and...'

  'Zak, just work on getting Sam back. Marry her as soon as you can, and then we'll talk about her father's money.'

  'I'll ring her now,' Zak said enthusiastically...

  Returning to her own time, Samantha sat in her lounge and mulled over her plan. Zak needed to be taught a lesson, she knew as she gazed at the telephone. Apart from giving Zak a necessary shock and enjoying a life of crude sex, she wondered what else she could do with her talent. Thinking again about setting up a dancing school and making money from randy men, she wondered whether to stay on at the newspaper office or give up her job. She'd need money, but—

  'Hello,' she said, grabbing the ringing phone.

  'Sam, it's me,' Zak murmured. 'I think we need to talk.'

  'Yes, you're right,' Samantha agreed readily.

  'There was nothing between Angela and me, I swear.'

  'I know, Zak. I suppose I just thought that... I'm sorry, too.'

  'Does that mean we're back together?'

  'Zak, my father has just given me some money. Quite a lot of money, actually.'

  'Oh?'

  'He wants me to buy a house and invest the rest so I can live off the interest.'

  'How much, exactly?'

  'Several hundred thousand.'

  'Christ, several hundred... Er, well... I'm very pleased for you, Sam. We've talked about marriage many times, why not go for it? Apart from this silly misunderstanding, we're pretty good together.'

  'Yes, yes, we are. But I'm not sure about marriage just yet, Zak. Maybe in a year or so we can get married and...'

  'Whatever you say. I wasn't trying to rush you. It's just that... well, I have plans. The sooner we're married the better. Perhaps in six months we could...'

  'I suppose we could at least start making plans for the wedding.'

  'That's great. Look, I'll come round and—'

  'I'm about to go out. Give me a call later and we'll get together, OK?'

  'You bet.'

  'Bye for now, Zak.'

  Replacing the receiver, Samantha rubbed her hands together gleefully. This was a silly game, she mused. But a game worth playing after the way Zak and Angela had treated her. Still unable to believe that the evil pair were after her father's money, she paced the floor, thinking about her plan. It would serve Zak right if he lost every penny he had, she mused, wondering how to get him into serious trouble. It was about time the vicar had his comeuppance, too, she reflected, wondering how to get in touch with the other girls he'd seduced. Thinking about his office, her Sunday afternoon visits, she suddenly found herself standing in the church...

  Samantha wondered what stage of the seduction she'd returned to. Had the vicar approached her yet? Or was this visit well into the proceedings? Hearing movements in the office, she walked across the church and peered through the crack in the door. Watching the man sitting at his desk and scribbling in a diary, she knocked on the door.

  'Come in,' the man of God called. 'Oh, Samantha,' he said, grinning as she wandered into the office. 'How are you? I thought the christening went well. Why aren't you at the party with the others?'

  'I... I wanted to see you,' she replied, recalling the christening she'd gone to when she was seventeen. 'Vicar, the things you did to me when I...'

  'What things?' he asked her, frowning.

  'Sex.'

  'Sex?' he chuckled. 'What are you talking about?'

  'Don't make out that nothing happened. You know very well what I'm talking about.'

  'Yes, I do,' he sighed. 'And I hope you're not trying to make out that you don't remember the time you were drunk in the church with three men.'

  'What do you mean?' she asked, her eyes wide.

  'I was watching from the office, Samantha. I've never said anything but, if you're now going to threaten me...'

  'I... wasn't drunk,' she stammered, recalling her worst nightmare.

  'Weren't you? Don't give me that rubbish. You were naked on the altar. The men were... I
can't bring myself to think about the disgusting way in which you behaved.'

  That fateful evening was the horrendous nightmare that Samantha had blocked from her mind. During a friend's party, she'd drunk far too much and had gone to the church with three men to have a laugh. Things had quickly got out of hand and... She'd not known that the vicar had witnessed the crude acts she'd been forced to perform. The men had been in their mid-twenties. They'd stripped her, groped between her legs, squeezed her firm breasts and plied her with vodka. She recalled swigging from the bottle as she'd danced on the altar. To think that the vicar had been there all along...

  'So, Samantha,' he breathed triumphantly. 'Would you like me to inform your parents of your despicable behaviour?'

  'They forced me,' she said softly.

  'Forced you? Good grief, you were blind drunk.'

  'That's what I mean. They took advantage of me. They used and abused me, the same way you did.'

  'I don't like your tone, young lady,' he said sternly. 'I suppose Zak was at the party while you were here with those men? Shall I tell him what happened?'

  'Zak and I are finished, so—'

  'Finished? Don't give me that.'

  'We're about to finish,' she said, realizing that her relationship with Zak wouldn't end until she was twenty-two.

  Wondering why the vicar had never previously mentioned her sex session on the altar, she thought that he might have been waiting to use it if she threatened to expose him. Confused, she didn't know what to do as he eyed her firm breasts billowing her tight blouse. There was no way she could expose him now, she reflected. Even though Zak was no longer with her in her real-time life, the last thing she wanted was the vicar telling all and sundry about her drunken behaviour with three men.

  'I'll be back,' she said, leaving the office and fleeing the church. Wandering through the woods behind the churchyard she sighed as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her ability to travel through time was doing more damage than good, she mused. Returning to the vicar's office, recalling the three men... She didn't even remember who the men were. No one at the party seemed to remember them, and she'd thought that they'd gate-crashed. She'd been too drunk to remember where Zak had been, too drunk to... Perhaps Zak screwing Angela was some kind of revenge, she thought. Zak had always been a dark horse, she mused. Perhaps he'd been screwing Angela all along. She imagined Zak taking Angela to the woods, screwing her in the bushes...