Depravicus (19 page)

"Now we'll get
one-hundred percent in the exam," the blonde grinned, sperm
glistening on her chin.

"Take the
papers," Will gasped, tugging his cassock down to conceal his
salivated genitalia. "If you ever need anything else, I live at the
old presbytery."

"You mean, if
ever you need sex, you'd like us to visit you," the dark-haired
girl chuckled, rising to her feet.

"Something
like that."

"We'd better
get going," the blonde piss-slut breathed, leaping up and walking
to the door.

"I'll be
seeing you," Will grinned. "Thanks for everything."

"Thanks for
the spunk, and the exam paper."

Standing on
his sagging legs as the girls left the study, Will brushed his dark
hair back with his fingers. The file containing the incriminating
evidence stuffed up his cassock, he walked across the room and
opened the door. It hadn't been a wasted evening, he mused. What
with the photographs he'd nabbed from Marianne's house, the file
from the slagger's study and a double blowjob, things couldn't have
been better. Peering into the hallway, his thoughts again turned to
PC Bridlington. Things couldn't have been better? The man was a
bloody pain in the arse, he thought irritably, closing the study
door behind him and stealing along the hall. PC bloody Bridlington
was going to have to be dealt with, and most severely.

Leaving the
convent by the side door, he made his way through the darkness to
the lane. He couldn't stop thinking about Father Kosher paying the
girl-sluts to suck his cock to orgasm. Picturing the man with his
knob in the girls' mouths, he wondered why everyone was out to get
him when sex was rife in the village. He obviously posed a threat
to Kosher, the Reverend Mother and the Bishop, but what was it?
There was enough fresh fanny to go round. Why pick on Will? Perhaps
it was that he was bloody good, he reflected. A sex machine.

He'd almost
reached his house when he heard someone coming down the lane
towards him. Leaping into the bushes, he wondered whether PC
Bridlington was skulking about beneath the moonlight. Moving a
branch aside, he grinned as Marianne walked briskly towards him.
Wearing a red microskirt and a loose-fitting blouse, he reckoned
that she was on her way to Father Kosher's church. To give the old
git a blowjob, more than likely, he mused, leaving the file beneath
the bush and following her at a safe distance. The village was
heaving with young tarts, he chuckled inwardly as the girl slipped
through the main doors of the dimly-lit church. But he wasn't
complaining. Following, he hid behind the pews as Father Kosher
emerged from his office and greeted the girl.

"I'm pleased
you could come," the old man said, his face beaming.

"You're the
one who's going to come," she giggled, slipping her blouse over her
shoulders.

"The money's
in the office," he said, pulling his cassock over his head and
tossing it over the altar.

"The usual?"
Marianne asked, tugging her skirt down and revealing her
knickerless shaved pussy to the excited man.

"The usual,"
he replied. "The equipment is on the altar."

Will watched in awe as the old man leaned over the altar with
his naked buttocks projected, his balls swinging between his parted
thighs. Taking something from the altar and kneeling behind him,
the girl parted his buttocks, exposing the eye of his anus. Will
couldn't make out what it was she was pushing deep into his rectum,
but it looked remarkably like a huge church candle.
Whatever turns you on
, he
thought as Father Kosher gasped and squirmed. Grabbing his erect
penis, Marianne pulled the solid shaft between his thighs,
squashing his balls as she took his bulbous knob into her pretty
mouth.

"Yes, that's
very good," the man breathed as she pistoned his anal canal with
the cylindrical object and mouthed and sucked his purple glans.
Moving her head back and forth, taking his cock head deep into her
wet mouth, she increased her anal thrusting rhythm, taking the man
closer to his inevitable spunking. Again Will wondered why he'd
been chosen to be dropped deep in the shit when people such as old
man Kosher were obviously as hooked on young tarts as he was. There
was something sinister going on, he was sure as the ageing man
clung to the altar and began gasping loudly. There was more to
getting Will out of the way so that the likes of Kosher could have
a bigger slice of the pussy cake.

"You naughty
boy," Marianne admonished Father Kosher, his swollen knob slipping
from her wet mouth as she stood up. "You're not going to come in my
mouth until I've spanked your bare bottom." Chuckling softly, Will
watched the girl yank the candle out of the man's anal canal and
grab a bamboo cane from the altar. "Confess your sins this
instant!"

"I... I enjoy
licking choirboys' bottoms," he breathed.

Argh! Will
thought. Fucking pervert! There again, he was a priest.

"I love
pushing my tongue deep into their bottoms and licking them
out."

"That's vile,"
Marianne giggled. "What else do you like doing to them?"

"I suck their
cocks until their spunk shoots all over my face."

"That's
absolutely disgusting. What is it?"

"Absolutely
disgusting. But I can't help it. Choirboys' knobs are so hard,
fresh, salty..."

"You'll
receive a merciless caning for your sins."

"Yes,
mistress."

Raising the
cane above her head, Marianne brought it down as hard as she could,
lashing the man's bared anal flesh. His naked body jolting as the
cane repeatedly cracked across the quivering orbs of his buttocks,
he begged for more, obviously delighting in the gruelling
punishment. Will couldn't believe the extent of his hypocrisy as
his cries of pain and satisfaction resounded throughout the church.
Will had always leched after beautiful girls, trying to get his
hands in their knickers, his cock up their hot wet pussies, his
tongue in their tight bottoms. But he'd never denied his cravings.
He was honest, if nothing else.

Now he had
photographic evidence of the Bishop's cock embedded in Marianne's
mouth, he needed proof of Kosher's debauched behaviour with the
girl. Wishing he'd brought his camera he watched from the shadows
as Marianne finally discarded the cane and lay on her back over the
altar. Her legs spread wide, her hairless pussy gaping, she moaned
loudly as Kosher knelt between her legs and began lapping at
her.

Will thought
it odd that the girl should make a secret tape recording of his
confessions when she'd sucked the Bishop off and was now allowing
Kosher to lick her out. Perhaps she was working for a tabloid paper
and was out to expose all the sad creeps in Cumsdale Village, he
reflected as loud slurping sounds echoed around the stone building.
He also thought it odd that she should materialize in the village
as if out of thin air and miraculously become Mrs Baxter's
daughter. Marianne was obviously living at the woman's house, but
who the hell was she? A relative? Mrs Baxter's niece?

Wondering what
to do as Kosher licked the girl's exposed clitoris, her screams of
pleasure rocking the old church, Will decided to go home. Marianne
would undoubtedly visit the church again to commit her debauched
sexual acts with the old git. Next time, Will would be equipped
with a camera. Things were looking good, he reflected, sneaking out
of the church. The more incriminating evidence he collected on
Kosher, the Bishop and the Reverend Slagger, the better.

Grabbing the
file from beneath the bush as he neared his house, he grabbed the
tape and panties from the front garden and slipped in through the
back door. The bar still buzzing with punters, he hid his spoils in
the cupboard beneath the sink and took a can of lager from the
fridge. Deciding to have a look in the bar and see how the takings
were doing, he was about to leave the kitchen when Lana entered the
room with a plastic bowl.

"When are you
going to get some proper ice buckets?" she asked, opening the
fridge. "And we could do with an ice-making machine."

"It's all in
hand," Will lied. "How are the takings?"

"Brilliant. By
the way, there was a phone call for you earlier. I hope you don't
mind, but the phone wouldn't stop ringing so I answered it."

"Who was it?"
Will asked, fear mirrored in his dark eyes.

"Someone
called Josie."

"Fucking
hell!" he spluttered, spewing lager down his cassock as he swigged
from the can. "What did she say? More to the point, what did you
say?"

"She asked who
I was, so I told her."

"Fuck."

"I said that I
was the new barmaid and..."

"Fuck."

"She's ringing
back later."

"Fuck."

"She wants to
talk to you about the furniture."

"Fuck."

"And she said
something about your testicles. Ah, that was it. 'I'll put his
testicles in the food processor and make ball burgers out of them.'
I got the impression that she was a little annoyed."

"A little
annoyed? Fuck."

"I'd better
get back to the bar. The Constable is waiting for ice for his
scotch."

"Constable?
Fuck."

"Can't you say
anything else?"

"No, I fucking
can't. Fuck."

Watching the
girl fill the bowl with ice, Will rubbed his chin. This was a
fucking nightmare, he reflected, wondering what the hell to say to
Josie. Lana should never have answered the phone, he mused. But it
wasn't her fault. Had he not been gallivanting about, enjoying a
double knob sucking at the convent and watching Marianne gobbling
on Kosher's cock... Fuck, he thought, finishing his lager and
grabbing another can from the fridge. There was only one thing for
it. Honesty might pay in the long run but, short-term, lying
through his teeth was the only option.

"You've been
keeping your head low," Lolita said as she wandered into the
kitchen with a glass full of neat vodka.

"You're not
old enough to drink," Will returned.

"I'm old
enough to fuck" she giggled. "Well, almost."

"Almost?
Fucking hell. Drinking and fucking aside, I want a word with
you."

"Oh?"

"You're a
bloody spy."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You
came here the other day pretending that you'd run away from the
convent. It was all part of a devious plan to..."

"Yes, but that
was the other day. I'm no longer a spy."

"And I'm no
longer a sad pervert."

"That's a
fucking lie."

"You can talk.
So, what are you doing here?"

"Drinking
vodka. The bar's open to everyone, isn't it? I mean, there's a
copper getting wrecked on vodka, so I don't see why I shouldn't
have a few fucking drinks."

"I want to
know what's going on, Lolita."

"How do you
mean?"

"Up at the
convent. Are you really a nun?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?
You're either a fucking nun or you aren't. What's the Reverend
Mother up to?"

"Waiting for
you to turn up in the basement so she can catch you fucking nuns.
She seems to think you're going to a party in the basement this
evening."

"That was a
little ploy of mine. How's your pussy?"

"Itching like
cunting hell. OK if I stay for the night?"

"Stay? Fucking
hell, you're a bloody spy and you ask whether you can stay for the
night?"

"I've got a
hot, wet, tight, hairless, little pink pussy."

"OK, you can
stay."

"Thanks. By
the way, it might be for a few nights."

As she left
the room Will shook his head despairingly. His cock ruled his head,
that was his trouble. Taking yet another can from the fridge, he
cringed as the phone rang. Fuck, he thought, wondering what to do.
He had to talk to Josie at some stage, he reflected. There was no
point in delaying the agony. The bar was nothing more than a table
with a few cans of lager and glasses, he mused, practising his
lines. The barmaid was... She was Mrs Baxter's daughter come to
help out with the meeting. Grabbing the receiver, he took a deep
breath. What meeting?

"Hello, my
little sweetness," he said as Josie swore at him, suggesting that
his mother was unmarried.

"I'll give you
little
sweetness
," she hissed. "What's all this
about a bar?"

"A bar? Oh,
you mean the table of drinks in the dining room. I'm having a
meeting about... about the grass verges along the lane. We're
trying to decide whether the council..."

"Lying
bastard. When I rang earlier, a girl answered."

"Ah, yes. Mrs
Baxter's daughter."

"She said that
she was the barmaid."

"That's right,
at the local pub."

"No, in my
dining room."

"She's a
barmaid and she's in the dining room. I'm an ex-priest and I'm in
the kitchen."

"What's she
doing in my dining room?"

"She's helping
with the drinks and sandwiches for the attendees of the
meeting."

"What's all
that laughter?"

"Er... Someone
suggested pouring paraquet over the grass verges and Mrs
Bareham-Puttocks said that it wouldn't do her pussy any good."

"I don't
believe you. Right, that's it. I'm going to take the next flight
home."

"You said that
the other day, dearest."

"Don't you
dearest me, William Entercock. I'm going to put your testicles in
the food processor and..."

"Make ball
burgers out of them?"

"Yes.
Goodbye."

Fuck, Will
thought as he replaced the receiver. Things weren't looking at all
good on the Josie front. What with Lolita staying the night, things
weren't looking at all good on any front. Apart from Lolita's
hairless front bottom, of course. Taking his evidence up to his
office, he slipped Marianne's cassette tape into the machine and
pressed play. "What the fuck's this?" he murmured, listening to a
track by The Rolling Stones. The tape full of music, he ripped it
out of the machine and tossed it to the floor. There was only one
thing to do, he decided. Make the most of Josie's absence by
fucking pretty Lolita. The phone ringing, he cringed.