Depravicus (34 page)

Grinning, Will
gently picked the vibrator up and immersed it in his larger. "Glug,
glug, glug," he chuckled, rubbing his hands together as bubbles
worked their way to the top of the glass. That was one problem
dealt with, but he still had to discover the identity of the girl
on the inside. Lana? Lolita? Marianne? Levan? Esra? "Or Mrs
Baxter," he murmured, pouring himself another pint. Checking his
watch, he shook his head. Three hours before Smith was due to
arrive, he thought, hoping that man had heard his fictitious phone
call. "And four hours until the end of my reign."

Sitting at the
bar sipping lager, Will felt despondency setting in. At least Lana
had gone out for the evening with Lolita and the girls in the shed
had gone home. But the situation was ridiculous, he mused,
wondering which newspaper Smith worked for. It was a sad world, he
reflected. A man can't screw around, bring a little pleasure to
girls without being hounded by hypocrites. There again, a juicy
story about a pervy priest screwing in the woods would certainly
sell papers.

The Reverend
Mother was behind all the trouble, he knew. Wondering whether it
would have been best to have kept away from the convent, he
realized that the slagger would have discovered his wicked ways and
come after him anyway. He didn't really know what her problem was,
why she was hell-bent on destroying him. His antics with young
ladies was only harmless fun. Why all the fuss? The girls certainly
weren't complaining. Well, not all of them. Jealousy? That was the
slag-bag's problem.

But where to
from here? Where was life going to take him? The bar was running
well. Although the business was illegal, PC Bridlington didn't seem
to care. He was just another punter pleased to be able to have a
beer whenever he liked without paying through the nose for it.
There were plenty of girls to screw, orders from the web site for
panties were increasing, the money was rolling in... Just when
things were going so well, some idiot from a tabloid newspaper has
to stick his nose in. Wondering what the evening would bring, Will
went into the kitchen as the phone rang. If this was Josie...

"Hi," Marianne
said. "Are you busy this evening?"

"Er... Not
really," Will replied, wondering whether she was the girl on the
inside.

"I thought you
might like to have sex with me," she giggled.

"Sounds like a
good idea," he said, wondering what her game was.

"I'll come
round now, if that's OK?"

"Right, I'll
look forward to it."

As she hung
up, Will rubbed his chin. Smith had said that his girl on the
inside was ready. Was Marianne's phone call purely coincidence? If
she was the insider, then Will was determined to ensure that she
couldn't play her part in whatever plan Smith had devised.
Preparing the shed for the girl's visit, Will returned to the bar
and poured a pint of lager. The scene was set, he reflected,
wondering who was going to run the bar while he dealt with
Marianne. Deciding that the punters would just have to help
themselves while he was in the shed, he smiled as Marianne wandered
into the room.

"You're all
alone," she said, standing by his side and licking her full
lips.

"Yes, it's
quiet this evening," he replied, eyeing the deep crevasse of her
cleavage. "So, what's all this about?"

"I told you. I
thought we'd have sex."

"When I have
sex, I have real sex," he murmured. "None of this missionary crap,
if you get my meaning?"

"I know
exactly what you mean," she beamed, checking her watch. "Shall we
go into the lounge?"

"I've prepared
my sex den," he enlightened her. "Follow me."

Leading the
girl into the shed, Will was sure that she was the insider. His
suspicion would very soon be confirmed, he though in his rising
wickedness as the girl gazed at the chair he'd placed in the centre
of the shed. Frowning, she looked at the ropes and handcuffs, the
leather whips and bamboo canes. She'd wanted to go into the lounge,
which Will found interesting. Perhaps a raid had been planned, he
thought, imagining several men with cameras bursting into the
lounge. But screwing a teenage girl wasn't illegal. There must be
more to the plan.

"OK, take your
clothes off and we'll get started," he said.

"I'd rather we
were in the lounge," she whined.

"But this is
perfect," Will smiled. "We have all the equipment we could want
here."

"No, I want to
go to the lounge."

"I'll tell you
what we'll do. Let's start out here and we'll go into the lounge
later."

"All right,
but I don't want to stay out here for long."

Unbuttoning
her blouse, revealing her straining bra, she looked a little
nervous. Again, she glanced at her watch, she unhooked her bra, the
silk cups falling away from the firm globes as Will waited with
bated breath. She was in for some serious anal sex, he mused as she
tugged her miniskirt down her legs. Speculums, vibrators, clamps
and steel rings... Will really did have all the necessary equipment
to sexually torment the truth out of the girl.

The evening
sun streaming in through the window, casting its rays over her
curvaceous body, she was a stunning beauty. Slipping her wet
panties down and kicking them aside, her vagina lips devoid of
pubic hair, she stood before Will and ran her hands over the curves
of her eminently fuckable body. Will eyed a bamboo cane in the
corner of the shed as she toyed with her pussy. Once she was tied
over the chair, her naked buttocks protruding, he'd thrash her
until she confessed her wicked sins. He was safe enough in the
shed, he mused. With the girl gagged, he screams stifled, no one
would know she was there. Deciding to lock the shed and the French
doors after he'd dealt with her, he took her arm and ordered her to
lean over the back of the chair.

"I really
would like to go into the lounge," she said, taking her
position.

"Later," Will
smiled, cuffing her ankles to the chair legs. "There's plenty of
time."

"No there
isn't," she returned as he tied her wrists to the chair legs with
rope. "I have to be home soon."

"At eight
o'clock?" he asked.

"Yes, eight...
About eight, my mother said."

"Right, now
you're my prisoner I want you to tell me what the plan is."

"Plan?" she
echoed shakily. "What plan?"

"Mr Smith's
plan to destroy me."

"I don't
know..."

"I thought you
make it hard on yourself. Oh well, I have more than enough
equipment here to torture the truth out of you."

"What
truth?"

"We'll begin
with a damned good naked buttock thrashing," he chuckled, taking
the cane fro the corner.

"What's
happening in the lounge later?"

"Nothing," she
murmured. "I don't know what you mean."

"You're going
to get this," he said, flexing the cane as she lifted her head as
stared at him.

"I don't know
what you're talking about," she returned, fear mirrored in her wide
eyes. "The truth, the lounge... What do you mean?"

"Who are you,
Marianne?"

"My mother's
daughter."

"And I'm my
father's sister. OK, have it your way."

Standing
behind her and raising the cane above his head, Will brought it
down across the pale flesh of her naked buttocks with a loud crack.
The girl's body jolting violently, she cried out as the cane lashed
her anal orbs again. Rather enjoying himself, his cock tenting his
cassock as he thrashed the screaming girl's anal globes, Will
decided to gag her. The last thing he wanted were people coming to
investigate, probably thinking that a murder was taking place.
Grabbing the girl's blouse, he rolled it up and moved towards
her.

"Please," she
gasped. "Let me go."

"This is your
last chance to save yourself," he said, standing behind her with
the gag. "Once you're gagged, you won't be able to confess your
sins. Now, tell me the truth."

"All right,"
she sobbed. "Mrs Baxter isn't my mother."

"What? I don't
give a toss about Mrs fucking Baxter. I want to know about Smith
and his plan."

"All I know is
that Miss Noble is behind it."

"Miss Noble?"
Will echoed. "What's that old bat got against me? I haven't seen
her for months. You're lying, Marianne."

"I'm not
lying. I heard Miss Noble talking to Mrs Baxter."

"Your
mother?"

"No, Miss
Noble."

"What? I think
you're deliberately trying to confuse me. Mrs Baxter, your mother,
Miss Noble... I shall thrash the demons out of your womb."

"You can't
thrash my womb."

"No, but I can
thrash your bottom and your tits and your pussy. Do you have a last
request?"

"Yes, leave me
alone."

"Request
denied."

"Do you know
how old I am?" she asked softly.

"You're
eighteen. Your mother told me. I mean, Mrs Baxter."

"Can you be
sure about that, Entercock? What if I'm younger? You'd be in all
sorts of trouble if I'm..."

Gagging her
pretty mouth he grabbed the whip and raised it above his head. The
leather tails swished through the air and landed across her
twitching globes with a crack. She knew a damned site more than she
was letting on, and would be punished for her wicked sins. Again
and again he flailed her crimsoned buttocks, her tethered body
jolting with every lash of the whip.

Hearing
someone calling from the house he dropped the whip and left the
shed. Padlocking the door and dashing across the grass, he grinned.
Smith was standing at the bar, looking about and obviously waiting
to be served. The bastard's plan was going to fail miserably, Will
mused, wandering into the room and locking the French doors behind
him. With the slut gagged and locked in the shed, there was no
evidence of debauchery. Greeting his guest as the man ordered a
large scotch, Will walked behind the bar, chatting about the
weather as he pushed a glass up to the optic. He was determined to
come across as normal. The last thing he wanted was to rouse the
man's suspicion.

"It's been
really nice of late," he said, placing the drink on the bar.

"Yes, it has,"
Smith agreed, passing Will a five-pound note. "All alone,
then?"

"Yes, it's
been very quiet," Will smiled, placing the change on the bar.

"Er... It's a
shame there are no girls here. The place is usually heaving with
them."

"It is odd,"
Will sighed. "Perhaps they've all gone on a day trip to the
coast."

"I was
expecting to see one girl in particular," Smith said. "Her name's
Marianne. Do you know her?"

"Marianne?"
Will echoed, raising his eyes to the ceiling and rubbing his chin
pensively. "No, I can't say that I know her. Had you arranged to
meet her here?"

"Yes, yes I
had."

"No doubt
she'll turn up. What's she look like?"

"Pretty with
long blonde hair."

"Hang on.
There was a blonde girl in the lane earlier. She asked me the way
to the railway station. She had a suitcase with her."

"Oh, er...
That's strange," Smith frowned.

"Come to think
of it, she said something about the London train and not wanting to
get involved with... Now, what was it? Ah, yes. Not wanting to get
involved with fucking newspaper reporters. Choice words for a young
lady, I thought."

"Damn," Smith
breathed, knocking back his scotch. "Er... I'll be back later. I
have to go and see someone."

"Certainly,"
Will beamed. "See you in a while."

Chuckling as
the man left, Will clapped his hands together. "So far, so good,"
he murmured, filling a pint glass with lager. But he was very
disappointed with Marianne. She was a strange girl, but he'd never
dreamed that she'd join forces with the likes of Smith in an effort
to destroy an innocent priest. Or, not so innocent. At least she
was under lock and key, he mused, sipping his lager and se he
waited for the next move in the game. Smith would undoubtedly
return but, his plan in ruins, what would he do? Bring another girl
into the plan and use her as bait?

As there were
no punters in the bar he decided to return to the shed and give
Marianne another good thrashing. She was going to pay dearly for
her sins, he thought, wondering whether to give her an anal
shagging. And as for Miss Noble... Will hadn't seen the woman
around the village for months. Why had she crawled out of the
woodwork? They'd had one or two run-ins in the past, but nothing so
serious as to cause her to seek revenge like this. Perhaps Marianne
was lying, Will thought, leaving the house by the kitchen door and
walking to the shed.

Moaning
through her nose, Marianne looked up as Will stood before her.
Perhaps she was ready to talk, he thought, moving behind her and
running his fingertips over the burning moons of her naked bottom.
Lifting his cassock, he grabbed the solid shaft of his erect penis
and ran his purple plum up and down the gaping valley of her wet
cunny. Repeatedly dragging her girl-juices up her sex valley with
his bulbous knob and lubricating her bottom-hole as she squirmed,
he finally pressed his solid glans hard against the delicate tissue
of her anal inlet.

His cock-head
slipping into her warm rectal sheath he gasped and shuddered. She
really was a tight-arsed little beauty, he mused, his shaft sinking
slowly into her inner core. Her ring hugging the root of his cock,
she again moaned through her nose and struggled to break free. She
loved it really, Will knew as he moved back, his cock sliding out
until her ring gripped the rim of his helmet.

"Yes," he
breathed, his shaft sinking into her again, her body convulsing as
he impaled her on his lust staff.