Chapter 8
Brother Mark was next door, in a kind of anteroom. He and the Father Confessor were having their way with Sister Anne.
"Damn, but I love to fuck underarms!" Brother Mark exclaimed merrily.
"No lie," replied the Confessor.
Anyone walking into the room at that moment would have witnessed Sister Anne, naked, tied down on a soft bed, her hands tied at about a thirty degree angle from her body, her legs spread much wider at a good forty-five degrees, then roped down with cord. But what was strangest was that Brother Mark and the Confessor, equally naked, were hunched above her on the bed, each with his prick buried in a different underarm, fucking her there.
"I thought you were kidding when you first suggested this," said Brother Mark to his male companion, "but this is great. Sensations that can be produced in no other way.
Sister Anne thought they were both crazy, grown men fucking a woman's underarms. It felt strange to her, the two men hunched up by her head, their long dicks running furiously against her tender skin. It felt weird. It almost felt good. But she despised them both so much that she had trouble in separating the physical sensations of their warm pricks against her skin, from their personalities, which were so hideous and cruel.
"Oh! I'm going to come!" the Father Confessor confessed, and within seconds, his hot sperm shot out all over her underarms, and her arms, and her belly, white streams of globby fluid.
He relaxed, getting off her.
"Suck this," Brother Mark said, taking his cock from her underarm and shoving it at her mouth.
She tried to refuse. She closed her lips tight, but Brother Mark would not stand for that. His hand descended brutally and slapped her across the face.
"Ooooh," she cried, tears of pain welling up in her eyes.
"Suck it," he commanded, and this time she obeyed, for fear of his terror.
Her mouth swallowed it down and she almost gagged, because he got on top of her and started to fuck her in the mouth although her mouth was actually a cunt, and this made her gag and made it hard to breathe. But Brother Mark didn't care about that. His prick felt such delightful sensations as he shoved it rapidly in and out of the beautiful fleshy woman's wide open, moist mouth, that he didn't care about anything else in the world, least of all for whatever Sister Anne felt. He thought she was a haughty bitch and didn't like her too much, but he liked her mouth all right. That he liked just fine!
She felt fingers on her cunt, playing with her there. They belonged to the Confessor, and he was manipulating her in the hope not so much of stimulating her, but of stimulating himself. And, evidently that was working for, a few minutes later, when she heard him say, "Stroke it," and he placed his prick in one of her hands which, although tied down, was able to move its fingers, she found that his cock was already half hard. He moved it back and forth in her hand while her fingers nimbly caressed it. All the while Brother Mark's immense cruel cock kept on plunging down between her lips, driving her crazy with annoyance and almost reaching and putting out her tonsils.
"Damn, but those tits are fine," the Confessor exclaimed, entranced by her globular mammaries, which wobbled about so provocatively as her whole body shifted, due to the motion which Brother Mark's cock sent shooting into her open mouth.
"Damn, if I'm not going to fuck her right there between those jugs! Move over there, Brother, and let your Father in!" he called out drunkenly.
"Uhhhh!" breathed Brother Mark deeply,-his orgasm approaching, not even hearing what the Father was saying to him.
"Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!"
"Move over, I say, and let a real man through!"
With this, the Father Confessor tried shoving Brother Mark aside. That turned out to be a big mistake, for this was just at the moment when Brother Mark's orgasm was first hitting him, an orgasm which the Brother had built up too carefully, and expected to enjoy. He wanted, more than anything, to shoot his full load straight down Sister Anne's throat. Really down there: he didn't want it to go over her teeth or her gums, and then come rolling out past her lips and down onto her chin. He wanted it down there, in her gullet, way way down.
So when the Father Confessor pushed him, what happened instead was that his long prick was suddenly, precipitously dislodged from its long sought for, highly enjoyable location deep inside the girl's mouth. As soon as the cock plopped out, she of course closed her mouth, extremely relieved to have that vile, dangerous pole out of of it. She just knew that if he did manage to shoot his full load into her mouth that she would choke and gag and retch and feel just awful.
The come shot out of the tip of Brother Mark's cock, but instead of going where he desired it to go, it shot into the air, landing on the girl's face, on her eyes, her hair, her breasts, her belly. Some of it even landed on the Father Confessor. Everywhere, in short, except where Brother Mark had intended it to go.
Brother Mark took his intentions seriously, and this made him mad, so mad that he lost his head. He was, of course, drunk, as were all of the participants, the willing participants at least, in this orgy. So his temper flew quickly, and he directed it at the cause of his failure, his superior, the Father Confessor. Little he cared at that moment about who was superior to whom!
His hands flew out and caught the Father across his face, knocking him to the ground. The Father cursed vilely.
"Fuck!"
But that bit of violence scarcely satisfied wild Brother Mark. Like a tiger after his prey, he leaped from the bed on top of his fallen foe and began pummeling him with his fists.
Seeing this, Sister Anne was overcome with real fear as she figured that Brother Mark had absolutely lost his mind and might turn on her with the same flying fists within moments, and her tied down and helpless. Fortunately, as the Father had fucked her hand, the motion of his body against the ropes had loosened them, enabling her to easily slip one hand out free. With this free hand she quickly untied herself, unseen by the two men, who rolled about on the floor like two professional wrestlers, the kind who wear masks and have weird names and who jump on each other from the ropes, only these two were doing it all seriously, pounding fists into each other's faces, laying on top of each other, gouging into each other's eyes with long fingers.
Where to go? Certainly not through the door in which she had come, for that lead to the room in which the Rector held his foul court. There was another door at the end of the room, the other end from which she had come in, and as this was the only other door, Sister Anne found her choice had been made for her. So as the Father, blinded evidently in both eyes, was slamming his feet into the prostrate Brother Mark's naked groin, Sister Anne slipped out.