Enslaved (28 page)

The coffee shop was fairly busy. Sitting at a window table, Marianne scanned the pale faces - drawn housewives taking a break from shopping, a young couple holding hands across the table, and a middle-aged man and his wife sitting in silence. Moving her chair, Marianne parted her thighs, knowing that the man would see her blatant exhibitionism beneath the table if he were to look in her direction.

Ordering a coffee from the waitress, Marianne waited, her heart fluttering, her stomach somersaulting as she parted her thighs further, knowing that her pussy-crack was grinning at the man. His looked past his wife and gazed into Marianne's misty blue eyes as she proffered a slight smile. His eyes lowering, lighting up as he focused between her legs, he quickly averted his lustful gaze.

Marianne sensed that she wasn't in control as she placed her hand between her legs and massaged her swelling clitoris with her fingertip. The man watching her blatant public masturbation from the corner of his eye, Marianne felt a rush of desire course through her contracting womb. Her eyes darting between the other customers, she opened her legs wider, peeling her shaved pussy lips back, exposing her pink inner flesh to her astounded spectator.
I can't come in here!
she thought as her clitoris responded to her gentle caress.
God, what am I doing?

Somehow, her subconscious had been trained, her character altered. The sex she'd experienced with men and women, the bondage, the whipping, the incredible orgasms, had melted her sense of morality. But more, she was driven by a perpetual desire for sexual satisfaction, a wicked craving to shock. Even if she were to rid herself of the trigger word, the old Marianne was lost forever.

Virtually unaware of anyone other than her male voyeur, Marianne rested her elbow on the table, her eyes rolling as she massaged her clitoris faster. Her face serene, angelic, she closed her eyes as her orgasm rose from her feminine depths and exploded in her clitoris. Shuddering, her mouth open, gasping, she gazed at her voyeur through her lashes. Visibly stunned, he stared in disbelief at the blatant obscenity, the beautiful sight of a young girl masturbating her clitoris to orgasm.

Her bottom-hole void, yearning for a massive phallus, her vagina spasming, decanting its hot girl-come as Marianne sustained her climax with her vibrating fingertip, she wished she'd brought the Christmas candle with her.
Next time
, she decided as her orgasm waned, leaving her trembling. Lowering her head, trying to disguise her obvious pleasure as the waitress passed her table, Marianne slipped her finger into her drenched vagina.

Her body calming now, she massaged her inner flesh, bringing out the last gentle waves or orgasm. Raising her head, she smiled at the dumbfounded man as she slipped her finger from her tight sex-duct and sucked it, savouring her girl-come, provocatively running her pink tongue over her lips.

'May I borrow the sugar?' he asked as he walked over to her. Marianne smiled her affirmation as he took the sugar bowl and dropped his card on the table. He was fairly tall with brown, well-groomed hair. His suit, collar and tie gave him an air of professionalism. Cleanshaven, his face tanned, Marianne imagined him between her legs, his tongue snaking round her throbbing clitoris.

Closing her legs, concealing her inflamed vaginal lips, her yawning girl-crack, she looked down at the card as he returned to his unsuspecting wife.
Christopher Davies, accountant.
Looking up, she grinned at her potential conquest and held her clenched fist to her ear, indicating that she'd ring him. As his wife turned to face her, Marianne sipped her coffee, innocently gazing at a painting on the wall above the woman's head.

Her husband's penis would be stiff, bulging his trousers as he flashed Marianne a smile before his wife turned to face him.
How easy!
Marianne mused.
How easy to take another woman's man!
As the couple left, Marianne decided to take a stroll in the park. She'd ring Christopher Davies later. Give him a chance to return to his office and then call him, talk dirty to him, ask him what he thought of her cunt. He had no idea who she was, so she could say whatever she liked over the phone.
Perhaps hell wank while I'm talking to him,
she thought as she paid for her coffee and left.

Passing a church as she neared the park, Marianne was suddenly overwhelmed by a wicked yearning to commit an evil act. Opening the church door, she entered the cold building, wondering where the vicar was. Walking down the aisle, her vagina oozing with her juices of lust, she climbed the carpeted steps to the altar.
Dare I?
she wondered, running her hands over the tapestry covering the altar. Eyeing two candlesticks standing at either end of the altar, Marianne grinned. Climbing onto the altar, she moved to one end, her heart racing, her stomach somersaulting.
The devil s daughterI
she mused.

Made from brass, the candlestick held a long candle, the rounded tip a good three feet high. Standing on her toes, her pussy-crack above the candle, she lifted her new minidress up over her stomach and eased the wax phallus between her swollen cunny lips. Gently lowering her body, she threw her head back as the waxen shaft glided into her tightening vagina.

'God, it's big!' she cried, her profane words resounding around the church as she completely impaled herself on the solid shaft. Gyrating her hips, bobbing up and down, she gasped as her vaginal muscles tightened, gripping the slippery shaft. Her mind bent on committing the most evil and depraved act she could imagine, she raised her body, slipping the candle from her hot pussy-hole. Dragging the other candlestick across the altar, she positioned it by the first, giggling as she manoeuvred her young body, aligning her yearning love-holes with the two rounded tips.

Gently lowering the open centre of her young body, she eased the candles into her holes, gasping as her sheaths stretched, opened to accommodate the holy offerings. 'God, it's beautiful!' she cried as the shafts slipped deeper into her young body, bringing her incredible sensations in her sacrilegious obscenity.
You gave me my cunt
, she thought blasphemously, throwing her head back and looking up to the church roof.
You gave me my holes, my beautiful cunt and my tight bum - so I'll use them!

Massaging her clitoris as she bounced up and down, double-fucking herself with the phallic symbols, she brought out her orgasm, wailing her pleasure as her young body shuddered uncontrollably. 'God, this is good! Ah, God, my cunt! My beautiful bum!' On and on her climax rolled, taking her ever-closer to her sexual heaven, ever deeper into the mire of her new-found evil. Her girl-come streaming down the waxen shaft as she bounced on the love-poles, she finally slowed her rhythm, gently caressing her pulsating clitoris, gasping in her wanton abandonment.

'Jesus Christ!' a man in a cassock cried as he stood before the altar looking up at Marianne's swollen pussy lips, taut around the massive candle. 'What do you think you're doing?' Marianne looked down at the vicar, her blue eyes sparkling. She felt no remorse, no embarrassment as she grinned at the man's ashen face - only a sense of satisfaction at the shock, the disgust, so obviously depicted in his expression. 'What are you doing, girl?' he repeated angrily, his eyes transfixed on her exposed clitoris.

'Fucking your candles!' she giggled, aroused more than ever now.

'Come down from there! I have never...'

His words tailed off as Marianne raised her trembling body, easing the shafts from her abused holes. He could only stare in disbelief as she peeled her cunny lips open, exposing her swollen clitoris, her pinken vaginal entrance, her girl-cream flowing in torrents, running down her inner thighs. As she climbed down from the altar, she deliberately opened her legs wide, virtually doing the splits, revealing her tight brown hole to the vicar's wide eyes. Standing before him, her minidress still high over her stomach, she grinned.

'Don't mind me using your candles to bring myself off, do you?' she asked. His mouth hanging open, he said nothing as she tugged her dress down, concealing her blatantly violated femininity. 'I was just passing your church and felt like a frig. When I saw the candles, I just couldn't help myself!' she giggled.

As she left the church, she turned to face the man of God. 'I'll
come
again, if it's all right with you?' she giggled. He gazed at her, her dishevelled blonde hair, her breasts ballooning her tight dress, her shapely thighs. 'Is it all right?' she asked again. 'You don't mind me fucking your candles?' Unable to voice his evil affirmation, he nodded, a slight smile furling his lips as he looked up to the roof. 'When I'm passing again, I'll come in - and come! You can give me a hand!' she called as she walked out into the summer sun, leaving him to contemplate the blasphemous act.

Sitting on the park bench, Marianne gazed at Rod's house, wondering whether he was with a client or not, whether to visit him - enjoy an hour of debauched sex with him.
No, I mustn't!
she suddenly thought, realizing that her clitoris was beginning to rule her life.
My God, I did it in a church - on the bloody altar!
Recalling the candles, her incredible orgasm, she wondered what she was becoming, what had possessed her to commit her blatant act of sin. Walking home, she knew that she had to fight, to change her ways, or she'd be sucked deeper into the mire of her own debauchery.
Unless I stop now, I'll
never
be able to stop!

Calling Barry as she walked out into the back garden and neared the garage, she wondered what horrendous devices he'd attached to his pillory. She wondered, too, how to end her enslavement. Covering his creation with the tarpaulin as she entered the garage, Barry frowned. 'You've been a long time!' he scolded, eyeing her tartan minidress. 'Is that what you spent the money on?'

'Yes,' she smiled. 'Do you like it?'

'It's several sizes too small for you!' he laughed. 'It certainly

shows your body off! Yes, I like it very much!'

'What have you been up to? You're spending more and more time out here. What are you doing?'

'Making something. You'll see it before long, it's a surprise.'

'Oh, you've carpeted the floor! I hadn't noticed!'

'Yes, this is going to be my den. I've moved the junk out of the way, and I'm going to put a sofa out here. I'll work out here, use it as my office.'

'What's the video camera set up for?'

'Er... well, the before and after. I'm videoing the transformation.'

'Oh, I see. Well, I'll leave you to it.'

'Come back soon, Marianne, and I'll show you what I've made.'

'All right. I'm going to ring Jill.'

Returning to the house, Marianne took the Christmas candle from the cupboard. She grabbed the card from her bag and dialled the number, wondering what to say to the lucky accountant. 'Christopher Davies,' he answered.

'Chris, it's me - the girl from the coffee shop,' Marianne replied, her stomach somersaulting as she massaged her clitoris.

'Oh, hi! I was wondering when you'd ring.'

'Enjoy your coffee, did you?'

'That was the best cup of coffee I've ever had!' he laughed. 'What's your name?'

'You can call me Sarah.'

'No, your real name.'

'That would be telling! Did you like my cunt?' she asked wickedly.

'God, yes! You're some girl!'

'I'm frigging my clitty at the moment. I'd like your cock Up my bum. Would you like to fuck my bum?'

'Christ, you're beautiful! I'd love to fuck your bum!'

'Are you alone?'

'Yes, in my office at home - I work from home.'

'Why don't you have a nice wank? Get your cock out and wank while I tell you what I'm doing to my cunt.'

Marianne paused, listening as he shuffled in his chair. She imagined him pulling out his stiff penis as she slipped a finger into her perpetually drenched vagina. What she was doing this for, she had no idea. Just another step down the road to her complete and utter debasement, she mused. She'd call at the church again, she decided. Call on the vicar, wank him off, splatter his seed on the stone floor of the church.

Her mind becoming increasingly hungry for sin, she slipped her finger from her vaginal cavern and grabbed the candle. Easing the waxen shaft into her young cunt, she gasped. 'Ah, that's feels good!'

'What are you doing?' her partner in masturbation asked.

'I've just pushed a huge candle up my wet cunt. Are you wanking?'

'Yes, yes, I am. I'm really stiff. I'd like to come up your cunt.'

'Perhaps you will, one day I'm pulling the candle out now. I'm squatting, trying to force it up my burn. Can you picture me, picture my cunt, hanging wide open, dripping with my come? Picture my bumhole as I twist the candle. I'm pushing it... Ah, ah, God! It's in! Yes, I've got it in! Now I'm. . . Ah, ah! Now I'm easing it right up my bum. Further, further. Are you going to come?'

'Ah, God! Yes, soon! I want to shove it up your arse!'

'Perhaps I'll let you do that one day, too. Now the candle's right in, I'm standing again. God, my buttocks are wrapped around the end of the candle. I'm fingering my tight cunt now. Three, no, four fingers. God, I'm drenched! I need a stiff cock in my mouth! Would you like me to suck your cock and swallow your sperm?'