Depravicus (9 page)

Finally making
it home, Will grabbed a can of lager from the fridge. His thrashed
cock aching, he swore to get even with the young slags. Downright
trickery, he thought, thanking God that the dark-haired tart hadn't
returned with Kosher and the Reverend Mother. If he'd been caught
in the woods with his cock out... It didn't bear thinking about.
The blonde had finally assumed that her friend wasn't coming back
and had released Will after an hour of severe penile abuse.
Whipping his cock to several massive orgasms with the stick, she'd
only halted the torture when his reddened dick would no longer
stiffen. She was in for a severe thrashing, he reflected as the
phone rang.

"Will, how are
you?" Josie asked as he answered.

"Fine, fine,"
he replied with a chuckle.

"Moscow's a
lovely place."

"Yes, I'm sure
it is."

"Are you all
right? You sound different."

"No, no, I'm
fine. Was your flight all right?"

"What have you
been up to, Will?" she asked, suspicion reflected in her voice.

"Oh, this and
that," he chortled.

"I know that
false laugh of yours," she returned. "Have you done anything
illegal?"

"Illegal? Good
grief."

"Come on, out
with it."

"I've only
just put it away. Er... I've been working in the garden, messing
around with the computer and..."

"You're hiding
something from me, Will. I know you of old. Now, tell me what
you've been doing."

"I haven't
been doing anything, sweetness."

"How many
orgasms have you had since I left?"

"About
eight... I mean..."

"Have you been
wanking again?"

"Yes, yes I
have. But I've only had pictures of you in my mind, my angel of
carnal lust."

"Who was she,
Will?"

"Who, dearest?
To whom do you refer?"

"I'm referring
to the slag you've screwed."

"She's
about... Josie, I really can't believe the horrific depths of your
distrust. To suggest that I've been fucking two girls in the woods
is despicable."

"I didn't
suggest anything of the kind."

"Ah,
er..."

"Where did you
meet these girls?"

"I... I didn't
meet any girls. I've been working extremely hard in the garden. The
fire was brilliant."

"Fire? What
fire?"

"Er... Weeds
and rubbish. I had a bonfire. By the way, the Reverend Mother's
back."

"Really?"

"Yes,
ensconced in the convent."

"You're to
keep away from her, Will. And the convent. You're to stay well
away. Do you understand?"

"Of course, my
little pinken petal."

"Look, I have
to go. I'll ring you this evening."

"Right you
are, my little bowl of flowers."

"Oh, I almost
forgot. You know I was talking about having the Welsh dresser
French polished?"

"Er...
Yes."

"There's a man
calling to do it tomorrow morning."

"Oh. Why
didn't you mention it earlier?"

"What with
preparing for the trip, I forgot all about it. He knows what to do,
so just keep out of his way and let him get on with it."

"I've heard
that some of these French polishers make a right mess of
antiques."

"Not this one.
He's extremely good. Right, I'd better go."

"I miss your
clitoris, Josie."

"And I miss
your spunk. Bye, Will."

"Bye."

Replacing the
receiver, Will rubbed his crotch as he pondered what used to be a
lovely dining room. At least he now had two options. Burglars
stripped the dining room or the French Polisher fucked up the job
and Will had to dispose of the dresser. And the dining room table
and chairs and... Fuck it. Wishing he'd not mentioned the fire, he
pictured an insurance assessor examining the charcoal remains of
the furniture and not only revealing the truth to Josie but taking
Will to court for attempted fraud.

It was best to plod on with the original plan, he mused,
deciding that the time had come to open the bar for business.
Realizing that he couldn't advertise the bar, the illegal drinking
session, he switched his computer on and designed a leaflet
inviting the villagers to a meeting at his house that
evening.
Father Entercock is back in
business preaching the word of the good Lord. Church meeting at the
old presbytery at six pm. All are welcome
.
Josie would be happy if she came home to find a thriving business
running in the dining room, Will was sure. With the money rolling
in, he could buy her as many antiques as she wanted. Printing
several copies of the leaflet, he finally left the house and walked
into the village.

Telegraph
poles, lamp posts, shop windows... Placing the leaflets anywhere
and everywhere, he was sure that he'd get a good response. Once
he'd evicted any old fuddy-duddies that turned up to the meeting,
he'd open the bar and the cash would pour in. Pinning the last
leaflet to a fence, he rubbed his hands together gleefully and
decided to call in at the tea shop. Without Josie to look after him
he wasn't eating properly. He'd need his strength if he was to
maintain a massive erection and spend the next two months
fucking.

"What's all
this then?" PC Bridlington asked as he approached. "You have to
have permission to stick leaflets around the village."

"But I have,"
Will smiled. "I have permission from God to spread the good
word."

"That's as
maybe, but you also need permission from..."

"I was on my
way to see you, Constable. I thought I'd ask your permission."

"Oh,
well..."

"After all,
you are a highly respected member of the community and a fine and
upstanding police officer."

"That's true.
All right, permission granted."

"Thank you so
much. You're too kind."

"Actually, I'm
glad I bumped into you, Father."

"Oh?"

"I was going
to come and see you. There's a little matter I wish to discuss with
you. It concerns a novice nun."

"A novice
nun?"

"Allegedly you
went to the convent and... well... with a nun... in the laundry
room... if you get my meaning..."

"I did no such
thing, Constable. I'm a man of God."

"According to
the Reverend Mother..."

"According to
the Reverend Mother you're an ugly, lying bastard."

"I'm a..."

"That's what
she's been telling people, Constable. I heard her myself only this
morning. She told Father Kosher that you're an ugly lying bastard.
I was shocked to the core, to say the least. And she reckons you're
a bum bandit."

"She said
that?"

"Indeed, she
did. When I heard those dreadful words I was so shocked I passed
out. My out completely passed. She's out to cause trouble,
Constable. Rumour has it she's after your job."

"Is she now?
I'll shall see about that. Thank you for the information, Father.
I'll go to the convent now and have it out with her."

"You do that,
Constable. Have it out right in front of her."

As the man
walked away Will again rubbed his hands. There was nothing like
lying and stirring up trouble, he reflected, heading for the tea
shop. A lie here, a lie there, the odd malicious rumour... Thinking
of lies, he again pondered Josie. Unless he came up with an
infallible plan, there was going to be big trouble when she
returned from Moscow. Suddenly coming up with an idea, he grinned.
He knew where she was staying, the name of the hotel. One anonymous
phone call to the KGB and she'd be arrested for spying. She'd
eventually be released and Will could say that he sold the
furniture and opened the bar to make enough money to pay off the
KGB. There again, perhaps a damned good anal shagging would appease
her, he mused as he entered the tea shop and sat at a table by the
window. Or perhaps not.

"May I help
you, Father?" a young waitress asked, her French maid outfit
several sizes too small.

"You certainly
may," Will grinned, eyeing her stockinged legs. "I'd like a cup of
tea and lashings of your cream... I mean, a couple of cream cakes,
please."

"Double
whipped or quick squirt from the can?"

"A double
whipping, please. There's nothing I enjoy more than a double
whipping."

"I know
exactly what you mean," she smiled, writing down his order.

"Really?"

"I'll be back
in the wink of an eye."

She was
another conquest, he reflected, watching her walk to the counter on
her long and spreadable legs. She was no doubt knickerless with a
shaved fanny, he mused. But he only had two months to shag several
hundred girls. Or perhaps a lot longer. The KGB plan was brilliant.
Josie would be thrown into a freezing cold, stenching, rotten,
slime-ridden Siberian jail for months on end, giving Will the
opportunity to fuck every girl in the village, and the surrounding
villages. Josie wouldn't mind being thrown into jail, he was sure.
She'd be fed, of sorts, and comfortable, more or less. She could
always huddle up to the rats to keep warm at night. And if she
became really hungry she could suck off the guards to procure extra
rations.

"There we
are," the waitress said, placing a tray on the table, her long
black hair framing her pretty face. "One tea and two of our best
cream cakes. Double whipped especially for you, Father."

"Thank you so
much. I'm having a little soiree at my house this evening," Will
said, eyeing her deep cleavage and firm breasts and wondering
whether she'd appreciate a peal necklace. "I was just wondering
whether you'd like to come?"

"I'd love to
come," she beamed.

"I'm sure you
would." Preferably in his mouth. "It's at the old presbytery. About
seven o'clock, if that's OK?"

"I'll be
there, Father. What shall I wear? I mean, is it formal?"

"Wear
nothing."

"Wear
nothing?" she gasped, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"No, I mean...
Wear nothing formal. Your French maid outfit will be fine."

"I can't come
in my working clothes."

"Wear a skirt
and blouse," Will suggested, his stiffening cock tenting his
cassock as he imagined shaving the girl's pussy and spunking all
over her soft vulval flesh.

"I shall look
forward to it," she smiled, returning to the counter.

"So will
I..."

Sipping his
tea, Will gazed out of the window at the passers-by. A girl pushing
a pram. She'd obviously been fucked rotten. An elderly lady waiting
to cross the road. She'd been sixteen once, and fucked rotten. A
middle-aged woman helping a child out of her car. She'd no doubt
been fucked rotten. Everyone had been fucked, he mused, wondering
how many women in the world were fucking at any given time. He took
a bite of cream cake and looked at the door as two elderly women
walked in.

"What do you
think it means?" one asked as they stood at the counter, oblivious
to Will.

"It means that
he's back in business," the other replied.

"But he
doesn't have a church."

"We'll have to
go along to the meeting and find out what he's up to."

"Yes, we'll do
that. I'm sure there's more to this than meets the eye."

"We'll go to
the meeting and take a look round. Hopefully there'll be an
opportunity to nose around his house."

Stuffing the
last cream cake into his mouth, Will slipped out of the shop
unnoticed and without paying. He was going to have to be careful.
He'd lock the dining room door and keep the nosey cows out of the
bar. There was nothing else to incriminate him in the house. Not
unless a fridge stocked with cans of lager would be deemed enough
to label him a rampant alcoholic. Closing the front door, he made
his preparations for the meeting. The dining room curtains closed,
the door locked, the computer turned off, Josie's vibrator
hidden... Nothing could go wrong, could it?

"Come in, Mrs
Highmen," he invited the woman, opening the front door. "You're the
first to arrive."

"I saw the
notices," she said, stepping into the hall. "And I thought I'd come
along to the meeting to see what it's all about."

To stick her
nose in. "I'm pleased you did," he smiled, leaving the door open
and showing her into the lounge.

"And here's
Mrs Gallworthy," he said as another woman wandered into the room.
"Please, both be seated and I'll put the kettle on for tea."

Leaving the
women to chat, Will went into the kitchen and made a pot of tea.
Others were arriving by the minute, and he hoped he'd have a good
few punters in the bar once the meeting was over. He'd spread the
word among the men, and the teenage girls, asking them to stay
behind and have some real fun after the others had gone. Having
supplied his guests with tea and biscuits Will stood with his back
to the mantlepiece and clapped his hands. Sadly no girls had
arrived, but there was plenty of time.

"Right," he
said as silence fell, a dozen or more pairs of eyes gazing at him.
"The Lord has spoketh unto me."

"Spoketh?" Mrs Highmen echoed. "You can't say,
spoketh
."

"Of course I
can. He has spoketh in no uncertain terms. He saideth unto me,
'Will...' He calls me Will as we've known each other for a long
time. 'Will,' He said, 'I chargeth you to spreadeth the
wordeth.'"

"I wish you'd
speak English," a woman with tits hanging down over the area of her
fanny slit complained.

"Sorry," Will
smiled. "I got carried away. I have called this meeting to inform
the villagers of Cumsdale that there's an imposter in our midst.
Father Kosher is a man of dubious reputation, a man who tempts
girls to his church to commit vulgar sins of the flesh. He is a
despicable..."