The Reverend Pike grinned excitedly. Silly girl! Of course it hurt. It was supposed to hurt. He signalled to the Handmaidens who quickly and expertly looped four straps over Kate’s wrists and ankles. And then he simply rammed and thrust.
“God, Jesus! It’s too big! It’s going to kill me!” Kate screamed back at him through her tightly clenched teeth, no longer caring a jot what the 'congregation' might think.
But it was there, ever moving inward and now, with such limited powers of mobility, she couldn’t hope to escape it. His thighs thrust hers forward; his arms holding her hips back to his.
Dear Lord, I’m helpless! I can’t move... can’t move... !
“Push back!” he commanded.
She could barely think, but she knew she must react to his words. Every way was pain and more pain. These was not the same sensations as she had experienced when Sir Bradley had penetrated her. She did… she pushed back and opened her arsehole that final quarter inch by deliberate effort because she had been ordered. It was as if she were taking a huge, unrelenting log inside her, stretching her buttocks wider and wider until she thought she would die. His vicious cock surged right into her rectum, solid and extremely painful, but finally better because she had absorbed it all.
“Oh, ohhh, ohhhh,” she gasped.
Suddenly, Kate heard him croon with delight and gasp as he began to saw rhythmically and without the slightest mercy deep up into the soft confines of her back channel.
She dug her nails into her palms, bit at her lower lip, as slowly the pain eased a little, although it was still a mixture of hurtful discomfort and stimulation. She felt strangely wet between her buttocks, and also strangely ashamed. She was being sodomized and she knew it. Kate was not entirely naïve. Mrs Proctor had told her about such things. She tried to concentrate on this thought, but each time her concentrations were destroyed by a skin-splitting thrust which jolted her forward and made her squirm back onto his fleshy stem that was meting out the punishment. Abruptly, she commenced to sense a masochistic joy. The pain was weirdly pleasurable. Her helpless predicament, her exposure to the beady, lustful eyes of her audience… the strangeness of the ritual… all conspired to make this an extraordinarily lubricious experience. She realized she was heaving backwards to meet the forward thrust of his loins. And she was undulating her body and moving her buttocks in tiny circles. She had already begun to feel quite excited through the pain and she almost wished that she could reach under her and gently clasp at his swinging balls. She turned her face sideways just so that he could see the effect he was having on her.
Kneeling above her, The Reverend Pike watched the brownish skin of the little round hole draw back with his prick, clutching it as if it didn’t want him to come out. At first, the pressure on his cock had been almost too much to bear, but now it was just tight and exhilarating, the type of squeeze that promised to draw the sperm right out of his duct with the ferocity of a geyser at every stroke.
He gaped at his fleshy, violent shaft disappearing between her smooth, white, gyrating buttocks with each thrust. It submerged until not even a half-inch of it showed, straining wildly in that tight, resistant passage, its bell-shaped, lust-bloated head reaching far into her soft quaking belly.
“Ooooohhhh, Oooohhhh,” she groaned as his pelvis smacked loudly against the softness of her twin white buttocks. The rampaging instrument, buried to his balls, felt like the length of an axe haft in her near-ruptured anal sphincter. Dear God, she was hopelessly impaled!
The Reverend Pike’s testicles ached and his prick cavorted as if it were spring-loaded each time he rammed into her, and now she was moaning and adding to his joy by the movement of her delicate rump and the hollowing of her back. He watched her beautiful profile as his lips bared back from his teeth in a silent snarl of lust. Her complexion was flushed a bright red, her head turning from side to side now, her long chestnut hair strewn down over her sweating forehead like a madwoman... and she was panting for more. She was his... completely his! A slave, submitting to him. He could do with her anything he liked... and he did, gouging his cock into her rectal passage and leaving it there, listening to her whine as he merely jostled his loins, moving it tantalizingly about with fiendish delight.
“Oh… yes, yes,” she hissed. “Bugger me! Bugger me!”
The Reverend Pike leered to himself in his fanatical pleasure. It was time now. In a ferocious thrust he yet again plunged his cock until his grizzled pubic hair tickled her and his heavy balls slapped her vulval cleft.
“Are you content, my child?”
“Oh yes, Reverend, oh yes!” she groaned, a violent shudder rippling through her whole body as suddenly the path to a righteous orgasm was revealed to Kate, no longer a distant possibility, but an imminent certainty.
He withdrew his prick to the glans, then thrust it forward until his balls slapped heavily against the flowered split of her cunt in one long, slow stroke. His cock tingled; his hairy, dangling cod tightened around his heavy, sperm-laden balls that were suddenly alive with fire. He could come now whenever he chose and he wanted to feel that torrent of sperm surging into her beautiful governess’s arse; dear Lord, how he loved these rituals!
Pike began to stroke ever more rapidly into her, hard and fast, battering her quivering buttocks with his hips. She felt the Handmaidens’ fingers work diligently on her nipples and even dally with her clitoris. She moaned loudly with the pleasure-pain.
“Oh yes. Fuck your great cock into me! Ram it into me! Bugger me hard! Squirt your filthy seed into my bottom!” she wailed back at him in a near-hysterical voice.
Her sudden obscene response to his cruel sodomy drove the Reverend Pike on like an enraged satyr. He reached down and pulled her arse-cheeks wide apart, commencing to drive his pelvis into her soft, yielding buttocks with hard, vicious slaps that filled the room resoundingly and drew approving, conspiratorial glances among the congregation as they became aware of the impending crisis. Sweat from his face dripped into her lovely hollowing back, making it glisten. His breathing came in short puffing gasps like those of a tired oarsman, his vision locked on the whiteness of her quivering body that was slipping back over his plunging cock with the snugness of a velvet glove. Dear Lord, he was losing all control now as he sensed his great shaft growing unbelievably. His scrotum hung heavy with its bloated reservoir of sperm, and it must he emptied soon or burst from the excruciatingly delicious pressure.
Kate had fallen to mumbling unintelligibly beneath his pounding hips. She waggled her buttocks salaciously back against his merciless thrust. She wanted him to spend. She wanted him to squirt his heavy load of hot semen deep into her belly. She wanted him to split her crotch wide open and spill his sperm into her until she was completely immersed in its delicious loveliness. She could feel a sopping wetness in the crevice of her bottom and there was no longer any thought of pain, or of any other thing except this magnificent cock pummelling her battered arsehole. She pressed her shoulders to the upholstered leather so that her bottom was now raised even higher in the air, and the huge, frenzied cudgel could fuck into her at will. “Praise the Lord! It is time!” the Reverend Pike almost shouted in a harsh, booming voice, throwing back his head and groaning as he thrust his cock’s full length into the wide-stretched opening to her bowels, his body commencing to jerk convulsively, his mouth falling open slackly as he clawed at her waist with harsh, clutching fingers, pulling her buttocks even wider apart for his prick to skewer yet another fraction of an inch into her.
“Thrust back! Thrust back!” he commanded her.
Kate, beneath his battering attack, thought she could feel the first delicious torrents of the hot, white cream splutter into the depths of her rectum. It surged through her body with the force of a bursting dam, burning into her heaving belly like hot, liquid fire. The delectable sensation touched off her own climax and she creamed as the vast gush of pleasure rippled through her, and then she could feel some of his warm sperm escape and dribble down the crevice of
her wide-split bottom to the slit of her open, throbbing cunt... and then he was withdrawing his deflated member from inside her with a shamefully loud expulsion of wind that was followed by another little gush of viscid semen that spattered the leather upholstery below.
Slowly, Kate collapsed, every muscle in her spent body quivering from sheer exhaustion. She lay on her belly, and she turned and stared up in utter disbelief at this man who had somehow come to exercise this weird, unholy power over her senses. Now, in the wake of her played out passion, shame and revulsion inundated her, causing the tears to flow quietly from her eyes.
Dear God forgive me! I could not help myself. It was as if I had no control!
But she knew full well that once he had started, she wanted him to continue performing that bestial, forbidden act upon her. She knew that she was addicted to sexual congress of any sort, with any human being. Oh! What is to become of me now, she asked herself piteously.
The Reverend Pike came closer into her tear-blurred view. One of the Handmaidens was wiping at his penis with a small white towel. He was smiling... almost leering, Kate thought.
“Wipe away your tears, young lady,” he said, giving her a ghastly grin. “You are now a Handmaiden. Tomorrow you shall become a Follower, a far more testing experience, I can assure you. And for heaven’s sake, girl, a good fucking in the arse never hurt any female, nor is it anything to be ashamed of, if that is what your tears are about.”
Kate clenched her eyes closed tightly, biting at her lower lip until she actually tasted her own blood, the filthy words sending a wave of nausea coursing through her. She had never felt so alone in her life. She was caught in an abominable trap and she didn’t know how or why, or where she could turn. She couldn’t go to Alice. Nor the Belfonts. Nor even Mrs Proctor. Not now… not after this! She had no one but herself to rely on. And it was this thought, far more than any other, she knew would sustain her through the trials that so clearly lay ahead. For what did the horse-faced cleric mean when he spoke of ‘a far more testing experience’?
Gently, the Handmaidens led her back to the vestry where they bathed her with warm, scented water, washing away all traces of her ordeal and helped her to dress. In the coach, on the way back to the house, Kate answered Alice and Ellie’s solicitudes with sullen brevity, but she gave them no indication of her anger or desperation. She would find a way to leave the Fordhams of Walthrop. Somehow, she would. She had to!
Chapter Four
The next day Kate started her job in earnest. She was up early and by nine o’clock had breakfasted and put the neglected schoolroom back in good order. When Ellie appeared to take her first lesson, her new governess sat at a table with her back to the bow window appearing, or so she hoped, as forbidding as humanly possible.
Ellie was quite unprepared for the strictness of her lesson. To demonstrate a point, Kate would tap the end of her pencil on the wooden surface of the table, or if Ellie’s attention wandered for a fraction of a second, she would slap down a thin wooden ruler with a fearsome ‘crack’. In less than an hour, Kate had reduced her pupil to tears. Although she knew it was wrong to take it out on Ellie, and perhaps not very diplomatic, Kate found this was a small, but satisfying, recompense for her humiliation in front of her pupil, her mother and those dreadful women yesterday.
As Ellie, who was, in Kate’s opinion, not one of Nature’s natural scholars, struggled over her sums and her French irregular verbs, Kate had another chance to review her time at Walthrop. She had only been here a few days and already her world had been turned upside down. And this evening she would be subjected to another sexual ordeal at the Hall of Worship. She very much hoped that the detestable Reverend Pike would not be there.
* * * * *
While Kate was attempting to drum a few basic facts into poor Ellie’s empty head, Sir Bradley and Lady Fordham were exchanging ideas of a very different nature in the conservatory. They were quite alone and talking most amiably.
“My dear Alice, I agree. She is a splendid fuck. Of course, I agree with you there. But we must ensure that my old friend Belfont never learns of her, ahem, extra-curricular activities here. If he or his wife ever found out we would have the dickens of a row on our hands. The scandal would ruin us.”
His wife gave him a sardonic look.
“And what if she should fly the coop?”
“Why, m’dear, I have every confidence in your powers of, ah, Lesbian persuasion.
You are making her a ‘Follower’ tonight, are you not?”
Alice nodded.
“Well, if that doesn’t break the filly, then we really shall have a problem on our hands.”
“Leave it to me. She will be available for your ‘guests’ when they arrive later in the week. Even if I have to give her another of your Laudanum tinctures.”
“Why did you not give her some before old Pike had his filthy way with her?”
His wife gave him a vulpine smile.
“Because I wanted our little trollop to feel it more keenly… and suffer. Ellie did. And so did I. And besides, through pain comes pleasure, as that old sodomite Pike and his bitch of a wife Bella are always so fond of pointing out. But tonight, have no fears, I will make sure she is well dosed.”
“Can’t stand that wretched couple. I feel quite sorry for poor Miss Spencer, really.”
“I can’t think of a better arrangement than that which we have now,” replied his wife sharply. “Besides, who else could we possibly trust to take care of your little angels?”
* * * * *
That evening, Kate found herself once more seated opposite Alice and Ellie on the short coach ride to the Hall of Worship. She had promised herself that afternoon to stage a last minute rebellion. To inform Alice that it was her time of the month. To plead temporary insanity. Anything! But after dinner and some more of the delicious, heady wine that she found so hard to resist, she had gone along meekly with them. After all, she reasoned to herself, she may as well get it over and done with. Then perhaps they would leave her alone.
The interior of the Hall was brightly illuminated by a myriad of lamps and candles and to Kate the effect seemed quite beautiful. Extravagant quantities of fresh flowers had been placed in great vases placed decoratively around the raised platform at the end of the Hall and their scent filled the large room. Again, there was the same number of women – about fifteen, thought Kate, not counting the Handmaidens – as the last time she was here. They were talking animatedly, but an expectant hush descended upon the company as the Walthrop party arrived and all eyes were upon Kate. Again, in the centre of the dais, sat that instrument of her last torture, the prie-dieu. The Handmaidens were much in evidence.
The woman who had been dressed entirely in black on her last visit came up to them. Now she wore ecclesiastical purple robes similar to those that the Reverend had worn on that occasion, and Kate realised that this must be Mrs Pike.
She addressed herself to Alice, however, not Kate.
“So, this is to be our new young Follower, Lady Fordham. Pretty. Very pretty.”
She clapped her hands once and six nubile young beauties appeared.
“Handmaidens! Take her to be disrobed!”
Kate seemed to glide mysteriously from one situation to another with no conscious memory of the journey, as if her sense of time and space were slightly distorted; once more she found herself in the vestry. This time, however, the half-dozen, smiling, robed Handmaidens who undressed her were much freer with their delicately enquiring, busily delving and tweaking fingers. “How pretty she is!” Kate heard one half-whisper to one another, “See how ripe an’ ready fer plucking!” “Blimey! fer fucking, don’tcher mean?” the other said, and the voices dissolved into more giggles. Such liberties they took, thought Kate vaguely. Her nipples were pinched into a state of reddened stiffness. Eager young hands cupped her breasts. Her pubic hair was fluffed and combed; her labia were squeezed and stroked, with special attention to the clitoris. Not even her pretty little
bottom-hole was left in peace, as an oil-slick finger insinuated itself to the first knuckle there. Kate started to quiver and shake with the divine sensations induced by these mischievous, but tender, ministrations. She felt pleasantly light-headed, and seemed to drift in and out of a delicious warm and dreamlike state. Finally, rouge was applied to her cheeks and her nipples.
Suddenly Kate was aware that she was back in the hall, and the atmosphere had been transformed. Where she had left a gathering of respectably dressed young and middle-aged women, now a witches’ coven existed. All were naked or nearly naked. All focussed their smiling attention on the youthful governess. She was led to the prie-dieu and bade to lie down, this time, on her back. A circle of predatory female faces looked down upon her and Kate felt scared. What did they want of her… surely not all of them were… lesbians!
The group parted to give a new arrival space. Like the others, Bella Pike was naked, but for a leather belt around her waist, from which dangled a fearsome device made of black India rubber and fashioned in the shape of an erect male member. In her drugged condition, certain details became almost preternaturally clear and now she could see that the shape of the phallus was more complex than she had thought. It was grooved in such a way that the ridges would give maximum sensation to its recipient. The scrawny cleric’s wife stood at Kate’s feet, looking down on her sacrificial lamb. Her dark, beady eyes glittered greedily. Kate noticed that her breasts drooped and that she had a little pot belly, below which grew an unruly mass of dark pubic hair. She spoke in a surprisingly deep, masculine voice. ‘Bella’ was perhaps a misnomer, however there was an undeniable aura of powerful sexuality about the woman, Kate thought.
“Tonight Katherine Spencer will be tried and tested by the company present for graduation from Handmaiden to Follower. She will join our sisterhood and taste the fruits of our love and desire. And she will give to each of us what we most desire of her. She is sworn to uphold our secret society. Under pain of death!”
The Young Governess Page 6
