Chapter 3
There was a desk light on in the office of Sheriff Ben Gorton at the north end of the main street of Portersville. It was a large office and it served the thriving farm community by doubling as the office of the Recorder of Deeds and Taxes. At the far back, a narrow door led to a still narrower corridor at whose end was a flight of stone steps which went down to the basement where the town jail was located. There were only eight cells, each windowless and equipped with a toilet, washbasin, and hard iron cot on which a single lumpy mattress reposed. Opposite the cells was a dingy old leather-padded couch, a rickety wooden table in front of it, and a straight-backed chair. The time was an hour after Barbara's initiation, and the Sheriff was holding private court with his only prisoner, a sullen-faced, pretty, coppery-haired runaway named Elora Bramson.
Elora was not quite seventeen, five feet eight inches in height, her coppery hair done in a pageboy with curls turned under and a thick fringe along the top of her high arching forehead. She had run away from her miserly old aunt in Caldoga, a little town forty miles northeast of Portersville, day before yesterday, after stealing fifty dollars out of her aunt's purse, sleeping in a nearby cornfield that night, and then hitchhiking her way to Portersville.
Gray-haired widower Ed Buxley had waited on her this morning and sold her a calico dress and some gray lisle stockings and a new pair of white thong sandals, cottoned to her and asked her a few prying questions which she'd sulkily evaded. He'd needed a clerk ever since Bessie Denbury had run off and married that jazz musician and gone to Atlanta with him, so he'd offered Elora a job clerking at his general store. But the uppity little red-haired runaway hadn't liked the way he looked at her. She'd turned him down cold and walked out of the store with her stuff. That was when lie had telephoned Ben Gorton, and half an hour later
Elora had found herself in a cell on the charge of vagrancy and theft. Ben had got a telephone call a little earlier from the county officer in Caldoga, advising him of Elora's theft from her aunt and that she was a run away and told him to be on the lookout for her.
Sheriff Gorton had his own ideas about what Elora really needed in the way of discipline. Earlier this evening, he'd brought her a plate of fried chicken and grits and yams and strong coffee from Betty Halliwell's greasy-spoon restaurant across the street. Now that she'd been fed and had time to think things over, he was enjoying a little session with her which would be for her own good.
He'd started by warning her that if she went back to her aunt, she could be put away in the Vernon State Reformatory For Girls for a couple of years, and she wouldn't eat nearly as hearty as she'd eaten tonight. The matrons there liked to use heavy paddles on uppity girls' asses whenever it took their imagine. If she was smart, he intimated, she'd give him back the money she'd stolen from her aunt. He'd have a talk with the old woman and get her to agree that it would be a lot better if Elora had herself a good steady job and learned to shift for herself. By the job, he meant Ed Buxley. By his fatherly advice, he meant something just a little more personal, and he was already well on the way to enjoying it.
Elora had grudgingly agreed that she didn't want to go back to Aunt Myrtle for anything in the world, but that she didn't hold with settling down in a dreary, dead town like this, working for that nasty old man who had been giving her the eye all the time she'd been in his store this morning.
Sheriff Gorton considered that downright ungrateful. The next thing Elora knew, her wrists were pulled behind her back and expertly handcuffed. Then he pinched heY earlobe and marched her out of her cell, and over to the couch, squealing and protesting that he didn't have any right to treat a prisoner this way. Seating himself, he flung her down over his lap and licked his lips as he contemplated her kicking, wriggling, long-legged loveliness. Her runaway costume consisted of ragged cutoffs, a pullover sweater with a skimpy little pink blouse underneath, and loafers which were well worn at the heels and soles. Though her legs were grimy from the dust of the road along which she had hiked a good part of the way, he nevertheless could savor the delicate, finely grained pale white skin speckled with rosy dots, the complexion of a genuine redhead. She had chiseled ankles, long sleek high-set, sinuous calves, deliciously slender long thighs which began to swell and round mouthwateringly as they merged into a pair of saucy oval-shaped buttocks shaped out with lascivious fidelity by the cutoffs, even to the deep if narrow crevice between the cheeks. And the sweater lovingly molded high-perched, narrowly spaced, extremely ripe pear-shaped titties which he suspected didn't need any padding or even a bra.
Sheriff Gorton didn't hold with paddles. His big hand was calloused and hard enough to tenderize any uppity girl's bare ass enough to make her regret her sassy ways. Besides, he enjoyed the feel of flesh on flesh, and tonight Elora was going to provide a feast of visual and tactual delights.
"You stop that, Sheriff!" she indignantly complained, turning her flushed, contorted face back to him as she struggled over his lap. His left arm had pinned her waist and his right hand was lingeringly squeezing the resilient, delectably firm cheeks of her provocative bottom while she futilely kicked her bare legs up and down until the loafers flew off and thudded against the floor.
"I'm saving you from the reformatory, gal, so you'd best thank me. Resisting an officer of the law might jist add another year or so to your spell up there if you're not careful, Elora girl."
"I don't care-stop that, I told you-you got no right to feel me up, Sheriff! I'm a good girl, I am! Let go! Take your dirty hands off me!"
"Tsk, tsk," he sadly shook his head, a benign, fatherly look on his weather-beaten, suntanned face. He was tall and lanky, with a lot of gray stubble on his cheeks and jaws, and right now he was randy as hell, as Elora was discovering while she writhed and twisted over his lap. His prick thrust violently against the crotch of his faded khaki pants, and as she continued to struggle and kick, her belly rubbed lasciviously against it, adding to his determination to make her take down the swelling in every way a squirmy girl like her could.
Suddenly shifting her so that her legs slid off the couch onto the floor, he clamped his right leg over her ankles, then used both hands to unfasten the cutoffs and yank them down to her knee hollows. A frantic shriek of mingled apprehension and furious rage burst from the red-haired runaway, as she tried to claw him with her slim long fingers.
"Well, I declare! Pink little panties, sorta skimpy, though, for a big juicy ass like yours, Elora honey," he lewdly chuckled as, pinning her shackled wrists with his left hand to clamp her better into position, he glided his right palm over the jouncy oval globes of her squirming bottom.
"Cut it out! I told you, damn it, cut it out, Sheriff!" she hysterically wailed, arching and squirming as best she could.
"Yessirree," he blandly ignored her furious spluttering, "you need to learn some respect and how to dress in a way fitten for your age, gal. I jist think I'm gonna learn you a coupla good lessons tonight, Elora."
So saying, he tore her pink panties down to join her twisted cutoffs, and his eyes widened in lecherous delight at the breathtaking bounciness of the spaciously ripe pale-milky, rosy-flecked bottom-ovals which met his gaze. The deep sinuous crease between them was shadowy, and he could make out, as she shrieked and struggled, the glinting dark-red hairs of an extremely thick cuntal fleece which ran along the perineal groove toward the dainty rosebud, now puckering and flinching as her muscular spasms at times yawned open the pale nacreous globes of her bare behind.
Without further ado, tightening his left arm around her waist, Sheriff Ben Gorton raised his right hand and began to spank the runaway. At the first impact of his palm against her ripe firm satiny naked seat, Elora howled like a banshee, more from shocked rage and virtuous indignation than pain. Another dozen, and she was squirming frantically, glancing fearfully back at him, her face flushed and her dark-blue eyes huge with concern, misted by the first tears of contrition and regret.
Soon another dozen, and she was sobbing huskily and begging him to stop. Her bottom was flaming, the cheeks spasmodically flexing, opening and closing, exposing all her most intimate secrets as he paused, resting his heavy palm on the right summit of her squirming, furiously reddened bottom. "Feel like listening to some fatherly advice, gal?" he demanded in a lust-thickened tone.
"You-you haven't got any right to treat me this way-I know the law-you better-owww!! Please-
I didn't mean it-aiiii! Please, S-Sheriff, don't sp-spank me any more, I can't take it, my butt's burning up-ouuuu-please, I'll do anything you say, just stop, please stop!" she wailed as another stinging and noisy half-dozen slaps visited her crimsoned posterior.
"That's a little better. Now you better show me if you mean what you said, gal. Get down on your knees and see what you can do about showing it," he instructed. With both hands, he helped her slip down on her knees to the floor, where she remained, wrists handcuffed behind her back, head bowed and sobbing bitterly. Giving her a moment to regain her poise, he then impatiently demanded, "Well now, what about it?"
Shifting himself to the edge of the couch and spreading his sinewy thighs, he exhibited the prodigious thrust of his aching, furiously erect prick against the strained fly of his khaki pants. Elora slowly looked up, blinking the tears away and staring at him appealingly.
"Now, that's the way I like to see an uppity gal look at a law enforcement officer," he chuckled meaningfully. "You don't really want to go back home to that Aunt Myrtle of yours, do you? Or to the reformatory either?"
Elora shook her head, sniffling noisily. Tears slowly ran down her flushed cheeks, and she squirmed restlessly on her knees, her cutoffs and panties twisted about them and her bottom smarting intolerably. His eyes devoured the thick x mossy curls of her cuntal fleece, observing the soft fleshy pink lips shielded by the luxuriant growth. Her magnificent firm pear-breasts rose and fell violently against the tight pull of her sweater.
"Then we'll jist see how nice a lady you can be tonight, and tomorrow you're gonna walk over to old Ed Buxley's store and tell him you really want to work for him, no matter what he pays you, get me?"
Miserably, she nodded, her eyes still raptly fixed on the thick protuberance of his aching prick.
His eyes met hers, and he grinned crookedly. "Why sure, Elora honey. Glad you asked." His right hand yanked down the zipper, fumbled with his shorts, and popped out his swollen, bony-looking elongated prick, with an enormous mushroom-cap-like glans set off by a shallow, wide circumcision groove. The lips of his meatus were twitching and clenching, evidence of his furious desire to cum.
Elora gulped and turned as crimson as her bottom was, biting her lips nervously, twisting her long fingers together as she strained against the handcuffs.
"I'll take them off after you've shown me some real respect, honey," he said softly. "Now you jist do what comes naturally, and then we'll see."
"I ain't never-I mean-" she feebly began.
"You mean you're cherry at your age? If you're lying, Elora, I'll use my razor strop on that big heinie if yours."
"Oh no-I mean-I-I've screwed with a fellow at school, only I never-well, you know-"
"Then this is jist as good a time as any to start learning," he concluded, gesturing with his thumb to his bulging, angrily reddened prick.
With a groan of shame, closing her eyes, Elora bent her head and her trembling lips brushed the tip of his aching glans. "That's the way," he exulted. "Nice and slow, jist get acquainted with it. Later on, honey, when you get it worked up good enough, you're gonna feel the difference between a man's doin' it in your pussy and some screwball school boy, savvy? Now get with it, Elora girl!"
With a shiver, the teenaged redhead pursed her moist full lips and pressed them gently against the very tip of his throbbing prick. He groaned softly, staring greedily at her. Her sulky face had somehow grown sensual, that of a young wanton. Her dainty, straight nose, with just a hint of being upturned, had thin, sensuous nostrils which dilated and quiveringly shrank, and her long thick naturally coppery-red eyelashes were flickering as she blinked tears out of her eyes. She had a delightfully rounded, deeply dimpled chin, and it was trembling now. Her attitude was that of a headstrong filly, conquered by bit and bridle, ready to be ridden. The blood pounded thickly and hotly in his veins, and his prick jerked with anticipation as Elora's lips brushed it humbly.
"That's right, go slow. We got all night to teach you how to take care of a real man, Elora baby," he muttered. His fingers were itching to grab her by the ears and force her to suck cock, make her cheeks bulge with it, but he controlled himself. Rural sheriff though he was, years of varied fucking experiences had taught him that prolongation and dalliance were more rewarding than brutal quickies. He remembered how a couple of years ago he'd had to evict a proud, light-brunette divorcee just turning forty, whose hubby wanted to put the screws on her after he'd married his young secretary. He'd talked with the woman and found out that her no-good hubby had called her a frigid cunt to her face. And before an hour was over, Sheriff Ben Gorton had undressed her down to girdle and bra and was running his tongue over her plump white thighs till she was begging him to give it to her. He'd found her a job as a secretary-bookkeeper to Mack Tolson, the local farm equipment dealer, and now she was married to Mack, blossoming out and happy. There were times when you gentled a woman and got a helluva lot more out of her cunt than if you beat her down and gave her a quick hard fuck.
That was why he let Elora take her own sweet time about giving him her first blow job ever. For a few minutes, she pecked with her quivering lips all around his prick, going down toward his balls at last. Then, with a nervous little gasp, opening her eyes and staring at him, and then blushing hotly, she had suddenly bobbed her head, opened her mouth and taken almost all his prickhead between her lips and began to suck at it almost lovingly.
He hadn't been prepared for it, and had to fight the urge to burst right inside that sweet hot mouth of hers.
"Attagirl, Elora honey," he panted, gripping the edges of the mattress and holding on for dear life. "You're a good girl, I told myself you were when I first booked you and clapped you into this here jail. Now you just keep on like this, and you'll see we got a place for you here in Portersville. You'll be just fine, honey, just fine."
She squirmed on her knees and moaned softly, her cheeks bulging with their contents. Her tongue was flickering around the sides of his glans till he thought he would explode. It was sweet torture to hold back and to see just how far the red-haired little bitch would go.
Now she made noisy wet sucking sounds, slurping at his prick, nibbling at it with the edges of her lips right over the circumcision groove, thrusting her tongue tip against the lips of his twitching meatus till he was nearly dying from it.
"That's it, that's it," he excitedly groaned, gripping her flushed cheeks with his sinewy hands. "Use that tongue, baby, use it good and hard, Elora!"
And as her tongue rubbed round and round his throbbing, aching prickhead, Sheriff Ben Gorton half-rose from the couch and uttered a bellow of ecstasy as he felt himself burst all his cum into Elora's choking, rapidly swallowing mouth.
Leaning back with a groan of pleasure, he palmed his thighs and stared hungrily at the half-naked, kneeling, handcuffed teenager. With a visible effort, Elora had managed to down his copious jet, her lips painted, her superb pear-titties heaving convulsively as she swallowed again and again and managed to keep from choking. Then she raised humid, dilated eyes to him, in which he could read both fearful respect and a strange kind of emotional excitement. "Now that's a mite better, girl," he said, not unkindly. "Seeing as how you're so cooperative, I might just take those handcuffs off."
Elora squirmed uneasily on her bare knees, lowering her eyes and blushing vividly as, staring at the floor, she huskily murmured, "You-you gonna f-fuck me now, S-Sheriff?"
"Why, sure." He was a little surprised at this unexpected, direct query. "I'm still horny as hell, you can see my cock's still plenty stiff, girl."
"I-I figgered as much, S-Sheriff," came the astonishing, softly faltering reply. Then, after a pause, she huskily murmured, "Wouldja m-mind leaving them on? And-and maybe sp-spanking my butt some-some more?"
"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle! Sure, since you feel inclined that way, honey, I'll be glad to touch up that sexy butt of yours a mite more. Get over my lap again!" he excitedly panted.
Sniffling, the red-haired teenager docilely crawled over to his right. Reaching down for her, he hauled her back over his lap on the couch, pulled her long bare white legs onto the surface and leaned back, admiring the tensing, squirming and still discolored oval cheeks of her voluptuous young bottom. Elora had clasped her fingers together and was working them nervously, glancing back at him over her shoulder with that same fearful yet strangely pleading look. A slow smile of comprehension dawned on his homely, rugged face: "I get it now, gal. You're really hot to trot, only you been taught by that cranky old aunt of yours that it's wrong to fuck before you get a wedding ring on your finger, that right? But if I fantail your hind end, then you know you can't do nuthin' to stop my fuckin' you and that makes it all right."
She uttered a wistful little sigh and bowed her head, confirming without words his uncannily accurate diagnosis. With a broad grin, he tucked his left arm round her waist and pulled her closer to him, running his right palm slowly over the twitching, still crimsoned cheeks of her magnificent firm ass. A faint sigh of anticipation escaped the submissive teenager, and she pressed her cheek down against the surface of the old couch to ready herself for the continuation of this love-spanking...for such it really was.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and grinned again as he saw her contract her buttocks in anticipation. But the slap was light, more a caress than punitive, over the top of her right hip, and another equally mild to the other hip.
The girl gasped and squirmed feverishly, crossing her socks-clad ankles, twisting her toes, adjusting herself. He patted her bottom, then delivered a few more equally light slaps all over both cheeks.
"N-not that way, S-Sheriff, please!" Her whisper was frantic if faint. "Lay it to my butt good, I've been a real bad girl, I deserve it!"
He could feel his prick jerk with renewed lust at this fervent admission, and the way Elora was restlessly squirming over it, bending it up against her lower belly, told him that this was going to be a memorable night indeed. Raising his right hand, he descended it abruptly, then again and again, the first two flattening the ripest curves of both arching bottom-globes, the third making impact exactly over the deep crevice between her inflamed asscheeks.
"Ooooh! Oh, I'll be good, S-Sheriff?" she sniffled, kicking up first one foot and then the other, glancing round at him again. This time the indefinable humid shadow in her widened eyes was unmistakably that of the adoring passion-slave.
He could feel the head of his prick throb with revitalized fury as he resumed the spanking. Elora gasped and whimpered now at every crisply sonorous intonation of his palm against her fiery bottom, tossing and wriggling and weaving her hips in the most salacious way imaginable. She seemed to try to squirm herself so that his prickhead rubbed against the moist palpitating lips of her pink cunt, and he quickened the cadence of the spanking with a flurry of rapid, noisy slaps that drew wails, squeals and sobbing promises to be good and do anything he wanted.
"All right, Elora honey," he gasped, fighting the impulse once again to shoot his remaining essence against her squirming warm belly. "Now I'm gonna really fuck you, honey!"
He eased her off his lap, stood up and then tugged her onto her back on the couch. Elora groaned and arched her bottom up to ease the throbbing, burning pangs which assailed her now furiously inflamed bottom. The whiteness of her belly and thighs and calves became all the more exciting by contrast. His prick was glistening, ferociously turgid again, as he bent to twist his fingers in the hem of her sweater and drag it up to her neck. She had a skimpy pink bra on which he at once yanked off, and then he gasped with lecherous pleasure at the sight of the large twin pears that thrust up and down agitatedly. The firm, saucy, dark-rosy nipples were taut and stiffened already with her erogenous fervor.
She was smiling through her tears, her eyes very huge and fixed intently on him. As he bent to her, she lifted both knees and spread them hugely to gape apart her cuntal lips for his immediate entry. With a groan of anticipation, Sheriff Ben Gorton thrust home to the balls in a single violent lunge, and felt Elora buck under him and arch her panting breasts upward. He sank down, his heaving chest flattening those boldly ardent love globes, as his mouth crushed and silenced her whimpering plaints of submissive ardor. Then his hands cupped them, his thumb pads rubbing the flinty nipples as he felt the convulsive spasms of her fully awakened cuntal sheath gripping and holding his swollen prick in its avid imprisonment.
He could take his time and really enjoy this fuck. Her having blown him had taken off the raw edge of his lust, so this bout could be deliciously prolonged, luxuriating in the humid clamping of her cuntwalls against his burrowing ramrod. Settling himself, his fingers squeezing and kneading her panting young satiny naked breasts, he put his tongue between her lips, and Elora eagerly responded with her own. He felt himself drawn into her, the sweet hot tight maw of her cunt absorbing all his maleness. Then slowly he drew himself back to the very brink, held himself suspended as she writhed and moaned under him, then slowly shoved back to the balls as she arched and squirmed her hips frantically.
As he continued to stroke her swollen sensitized cuntal sheath, angling so that the tip of his prick brushed against her well developed clitoris, the almost naked red-haired handcuffed runaway began to buck and shudder under him.
Tilting back her contorted, flushed, tearstained face, Elora huskily announced her mounting rapture: "Aaah-oh, Gawd, S-Sheriff, fuck me good-oooh, harder, punish me, I've been so bad-I stole from my Aunt Myrtle, I let a boy screw me-oooh, aaaaah, that's so good-oooh, harder, please, S-Sheriff, make me cum good and hard now, oh puhlease make me cum-ooooh-ouuuuuit's wonderful-oh harder, S-Sheriff, aaaah!"
The couch creaked with her frenetic gyrations as he skewered her, lashed into furious, possessive conquest by her fervent exhortations and, most of all, by the squirming, wriggling movements of her bare hips which threatened to unhorse him, buried though he was in her warm tight cuntal socket. Slipping his right hand down under her as she arched her bottom, he prodded his right forefinger against the dainty, thin-lipped rosette of her asshole, and Elora's wild squeal of pleasure and her threshing movements under him instantly responded: "Aaah-oooh, S-Sheriff, oh that's awful good-nobody ever done that to me before-yes, yes, goose me hard-it feels just like your big hard cock inside my other little hole, oooh-aaah-give it to me hard, punish me, make me a good girl, Sheriff, puhlease!"
He fought the maddening urge to explode again, for all his tides were rising hotly, achingly, painfully at the swollen tip of his prick which rubbed and chafed this way and that against the humid crannies of her seething cunt. Delving his finger to the knuckle, feeling her rectal walls clamp against it as fiercely as her cuntwalls were besieging his straining prick, Sheriff Ben Gorton thrust home a final time and felt himself drained of all his juices by the convulsive suction of her passionate young cunt. Elora uttered a shriek of rapture, flinging her bare legs over his sinewy, straining bottom, and bucked wildly under him as her own tides turbulently rushed to meet his.
He lay there panting, dripping with sweat, feeling his deflating cock still kissed and clipped and compressed by the agitated after-spasms of her cuntal walls. Eyes closed, nostrils flaring and clenching, her beautiful pale-white, dark-tipped pear-breasts swelling voluminously, Elora groaned in bliss.
"I'm gonna look after you real good from now on, Elora," he hoarsely promised. "You're gonna take that job with Ed Buxley, but I'll be looking in every now and then to make sure he treats you right, you hear, girl? Tomorrow morning, I'm bringing you a nice steak breakfast with all the trimmings. Then we'll go put you on old Ed's payroll. And he'll tell me if you're naughty or need touching up every so often, so you and I can have ourselves another time like this."