Chapter 1
She had been the first one to catch his eye as he had surveyed his new congregation. Fucking shit, those others were such dumpy sluts. Even the dog wouldn't want them. He had bitched like hell when they had told him that he was being reassigned to Martinsville. Shit, he had never even heard of the place. And how would he leave Mrs. Johnson, with her tight, sticky cunt? God, she could ball him good! Even if she did fart every time she came. Or Penny Anderson. He laughed each time Bruce Anderson came to him and confessed that he couldn't curb his lust, that he had gone with another hooker from Pittsburg and gotten his ashes hauled. Christ, if Bruce could see his daughter giving head he would forget about his whores in Pittsburg. Penny's teen-age lips gave the best blowjobs he had ever had.
But fucking Martinsville! What a hole. Everybody knew everybody else's damn business and you couldn't even get laid around the dump without the town council passing a resolution about it. Those goddamn elders had a lot of fucking nerve to send him here! "It's only for two years!" they had insisted. "Then you'll get a good parish!" But in two years his cock could wither and dry up unless, he could find some juicy snatch to keep it young. And all those goddamn old ladies watched every move he made. He couldn't even go out and get laid at night without the whole town knowing about it.
Well, they could all get fucked. That was the way Cotton Salter saw it. Nobody was going to tell him that a minister's prick is only made for pissing. That little blonde cunt had caught his eye on the very first Sunday. She had been with her mother, a dried-out old twat if there ever was one. She had probably never even seen her husband's prick with the lights on. But the blonde, what a piece of tail! He had to admit that she was ripe, even if she did look like she thought a bone was just something that you give to the dog. He knew he had to have her. Even before he finished the sermon his prick was hard. It pissed him off that he would have to go back to the rectory and jerk it off. But he vowed on his Holy Bible that he'd bang her little ass the first chance he could get.
Martinsville was such a shitty little dump that he had lots of time to think about it. His first move had been to take a good look around the church. Shit, the church was the biggest building in town. They had built the thing when everyone was expecting that a factory was going up by the tracks, and the factory would attract more factories and the factory workers and their goddamn bosses would flock into the church every Sunday, and if they liked it well enough, they'd dump their dollars in the silver sucker plate. So they'd gone ahead and built the church, but the factory never came.
The feature of the church which Cotton Salter found to be of particular interest was the basement. It was almost as big and complex as the basements in some of the smaller cathedrals he had seen. Nobody ever went down there. They couldn't afford to heat it. Except for the furnace room and the tool room for the maintenance worker, the whole basement was sealed off. Of course, they had turned the key over to him since he was the new minister. They had suggested that he put it in a desk drawer and forget it. There wasn't even any lighting in the empty part of the basement and it was reached by a separate entrance, a small door right next to the rectory.
Cotton had listened with interest, assuring them that he would follow their advice. He had waited until evening when the town was quiet. Then, with a flashlight in hand, he had set about his explorations.
At first he couldn't even get the damn door open. He had to go out to his car and get the jack handle and wedge it in the crack. The lock finally opened and he forced the door open on its rusty hinges. A rat scurried past his feet and he flung the jack handle after it. It pleased him that he hit the rat's tail and made it squeal, even though it managed to get away. The rat didn't know how lucky he had been. The next prisoner in this basement might not fare so well. With his flashlight in his hand, he started forward into the darkness.
He didn't see the cobwebs and they wisped across his face. Cotton cursed and wiped them off his cheek. He wondered if there had been a spider in them. That blonde cunt was probably scared of spiders. That would be a laugh. Maybe he could find one just for her and let it crawl down her tits and spin a web around her box. Then he could ram his prick into her and shove the web right up her hole. It would really drive her wild. Maybe he would try it if he could find a god damn spider.
The north end of the church basement was smaller than he had expected but although the room was damp and cold, Cotton fell in love with it immediately. The walls were thick. Thicker than he had imagined. There was no way that the maintenance people could hear her cries through these walls. Nor was there any way that the congregation could hear her cries. There was a heavy door blocking off the room from the corridor which led out to the rectory entrance and so he wouldn't even have to gag her. He liked that part. He wanted to hear her cry. He wanted to hear her beg for mercy when he pulled her legs apart. God, would that be good! He could hardly wait.
But Cotton understood patience. His patience had made him what he was today. He understood that he was one of the chosen ones in the church and that out of all the ordained ministers he was one of the few who would have a wealthy parish someday. And his day would be coming soon. Just as soon as he finished this Martinsville gig. So he could wait. But he wasn't going to rot. With that little blonde twat down in the basement to keep him company, he could sit it out. And he could teach her a few things too. Things that even her horny little friends didn't know about.
Cotton returned to the room at the north end of the basement the following night. This time he brought a supply of candles with him. They were the nice thick candles that were used on the altar of the church and they would suit his purpose perfectly. He tried to imagine what she would look like in the flickering illumination. And that night he began to inspect the wall.
Although the rocks were solid, he found that he might be able to drive in bolts at the joints where the stones came together. He measured the wall carefully and picked a suitable spot. He would have to go to a blacksmith for what he wanted, and he certainly could not go to one in Martinsville. He would make a special trip for what he needed. That would be an adventure in itself. Lydia could guide him to a place where they would be discreet . . . and the chains would be heavy.
He went to Pittsburg on a Monday afternoon. He had told his secretary that he wouldn't be back until the following morning. He explained that he had to pick up some clerical supplies and visit an elderly lady to whom he had given comfort as a young minister. The secretary said how nice that was. He wondered what she would have said if she could meet Lydia.
The whorehouse was almost empty, the way that it always was on Monday nights. There was a pimply kid in a sailor uniform in the parlor and a dumpy broad in a black wig was playing with him, holding her hand in his lap, trying to grab his cock. Cotton walked past the parlor and out to the kitchen. He knew he would find Lydia there. She saw him and threw her arms around him, managing to give him a big kiss while she rubbed her cunt against his bone. Cotton tried to speak to her but he found his throat going dry. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper that he had brought for her. But she didn't even notice it. Already she was calling for Mindy, her latest acquisition. She wanted to introduce him. Mindy would get him started for the evening. Cotton pushed the paper back into his pocket. His legs were trembling beneath him. He saw the new girl. She was blonde and young, just like that other cunt. She didn't look like she was even eighteen. Lydia had a lot of nerve to use her. The girl took him by the arm and Lydia pushed a bottle of bourbon into his other hand. Cotton tried to thank her but the words wouldn't come. It was always like this when he got around women. It was the devil's lust that gripped him. And there was only one way to shake it loose.
Cotton followed Mindy up the stairs. He didn't even notice how worn the carpet was from the many feet which had trod on it to make this same trip. All he could see was Mindy's body displayed so teasingly under the transparent robe. He followed the movement of her legs and tried to gaze through the tiny black panties that covered her snatch. When she turned to help him at the top of the stairs he reached out and put his hand on her tit. Mindy giggled and asked him if he wanted her to take off the bra. Cotton didn't answer but continued to clutch at her. Mindy told him to come on, they could do it in the room. Cotton didn't argue but followed her inside. She closed the door behind them and Cotton screwed the top off the bottle. Mindy stood with her back to the door, watching him drink. And watching the stiff white collar around his neck.
Cotton took a quick gulp of the bourbon and started to lower the bottle from his lips. Mindy put her hand on her hip and cocked her leg. Cotton abruptly raised the bottle to his lips again and took another belt. He had to calm his nerves . . . and the horrible urge that had come over him.
Mindy was still standing with her back to the door when he came at her. She screamed as he grabbed her bra between the two cups. Cotton slapped her across the face and she stared at him in amazement. "Daughter of Satan!" he thundered as he ripped the bra from her body. His firm grip tore both the shoulder straps and the hooks behind her back. Mindy stood against the door, not daring to move now. Cotton reached for his prick. He pinned her to the door and clawed at her knobs with his fingers. The hard bone sprang loose from his pants. His grip shifted to her panties. Mindy gasped as he tore them away from her body. He had not even bothered to take off his clerical clothes.
He took her hard, right against the door. Mindy had never fucked standing up and Cotton had to force her into position. He did it without speaking, by pressing down on her shoulders until her knees bent just enough so that he could slip his stiff cock into her cunt. He groaned as he did it. Cotton was hung. He fucked her quickly, not caring that her ass was beating against the door at every stroke that he took. Outside in the hall it sounded like a drum. It was over in another moment. His pent-up seed surged into her snatch as Cotton cursed and groaned. He slowly stood back from her and retrieved the bottle which somehow he had managed to set upright on the floor. He took another slug of whiskey and looked down at his prick. He seemed amazed that it was still hard.
"What did you do?" Cotton mumbled, looking from his prick to the girl.
"Hey buddy, don't look at me. You had that when you came in here!" the girl snapped at him, now recovering her poise and professional attitude. Lydia had taught her always to keep the customers under control. She promised herself that this one would not get away from her again. She had not reckoned on Cotton Salter.
"God's curse!" the minister grumbled to himself. "Fornication!" he added, not making himself entirely clear. Mindy had found a towel and was proceeding to wipe away the more conspicuous globs of Cotton's load. She turned her back on him for a moment to toss the towel onto the washstand but it was a mistake. Cotton's arm went around her neck like a vise. This time he pulled her onto the bed. He flung her on her back and she fell with her legs apart. Her robe opened up even before Cotton's hands tore it.
"Hey! Go easy," Mindy begged, realizing that once again she had lost control of her client. But she knew better than to try and stop him. Cotton found the bottle again and took another drink. Whiskey spilled down his chin and across the front of his black shirt but he didn't seem to notice. He had still not removed his pants and his flaming-red prick, streaked with Mindy's juices, stood out in sharp contrast to the somber black trousers and black shoes.
"Jezebel! Hell-hag!" Cotton bellowed, wiping the whiskey from his chin and seizing his prick in his hand. Mindy lay on her back and struggled to keep her legs parted so that Cotton could take her with ease but suddenly he grabbed her by the hair on her head and jerked her up into a sitting position. Mindy cried in surprise but Cotton was already shoving his prick into her mouth. She gagged and choked and struggled to take it. She sucked quickly, hoping that it would please him enough to make him release his grip on her hair. It felt like the hair was coming out by the roots. She had seen some screwballs since Lydia had taken her on, but this guy took the cake. She wondered if he was really a minister. It had been a long time since she had been to church. .
"Suck on it you filthy slut!" Cotton yelled, shaking her head frantically so that her lips bobbed back and forth on his cock. "For the love of God, suck on it!" She could see his eyes flashing as if he was having a fit. "Let the power of God wash away your sins!" he screamed, his voice almost cracking. "Let God's Jove enter into your head and mind!"
Mindy sucked faster, even though he was holding her in a very uncomfortable position. She was convinced now that he collar was real. Only a minister could talk the way he did. What he was saying scared her. She had always been afraid of ministers, ever since the parson back at home had caught her necking and warned her of the fires of hell. Cotton Salter was a man of God. Mindy was sure of that. She trembled to think what would happen to her if she didn't do his will.
"God's love..." Cotton croaked, his voice drying out now. He tried to reach the bottle but it was too far away. His grip had slackened on the blonde's head. He could feel himself going weak. The devil was leaving his body. "Cast out the forces of Hell!" Cotton stammered. "Let God's love fill your. . . " Cotton stopped and looked down at the girl. His come was rushing up from his balls. He saw her gulp as it shot into her in a hard spurt. She was sucking and gulping, trying to take it all, trying to keep it from running down her chin. She swallowed once. There wasn't room in her mouth for all of it. She licked at his prick, washing it clean. Finally she looked up to him for some signal that it was all over. "Mouth," Cotton said weakly, finishing his sentence. He fell back on his knees and pointed to the bottle. Mindy got up and gave it to him. Cotton took another drink.
While Cotton sat on the bed, gazing at the bottle, Mindy went and got a towel and started to wash his prick. Although she was very gentle when she wiped his dick, she could feel it jumping and hardening beneath the towel. She hoped that the minister didn't notice what was happening to him. She was eager to get rid of him. By the time she pulled the towel away, it was almost hard, but he didn't look at her at all. He just kept staring at the bottle. Mindy might have safely gotten rid of him if Sharron and Peggy hadn't picked this moment to come barging in.
"Christ Almighty! Whores!" Cotton cried in amazement. "Sluts!" he thundered, gesturing at them with the bottle. His cock was gesturing, too. The last blood had pumped into it and once again it was stiff as an iron rod. '
"A motherfucking minister!" Peggy squealed in amazement. "Sorry I didn't bring my Bible, Preacher," she teased. "But maybe we can help you lick your problem anyway," she suggested, eyeing the minister's fat dong. "What about it, Sharron? Ever eat a minister's meat?" Both whores grinned.
"God will punish you!" Cotton yelled at them but he was already lying back on the bed. Mindy was looking from the minister to her sister whores, trying to warn them with her eyes. They didn't know what they were getting into. And maybe they didn't care. They had just come from the basement and Peggy was still wearing the high black boots which came to the middle of her thighs and accentuated the dark cunt what they had been doing she had to clean up. But now she was ready for another round, any way the preacher wanted it. And Mindy, Mindy was new here. She still was all hung up. They could go for Mindy a little, too. A hot tongue up her twat would be good for her.
Although Cotton continued to protest the presence of these wanton sluts, he lay back on the bed, knowing just what they would do to him. "Hang your ass in his face," Peggy told Mindy as she unbuttoned the short leather vest which had been hiding her generous tits. Mindy climbed over the minister and planted her cunt in his face. It tickled for only a moment before the preacher's tongue pushed through the muff and lapped at her clit. Mindy looked down at Cotton's cock. Did they want her to suck it again? Maybe they didn't know how much spunk was pent up in those tight balls. "We'll do that," Sharron told her. "You just relax."
Sharron got on one side of him and Peggy got on the other, they grinned at each other and at the swollen prong, red now from behind rubbed so much. Their heads came together and they stopped for a moment and kissed. Mindy watched them. It wasn't the first time since she had been at Lydia's that she had seen girls doing it with each other but it always bothered her. And it made her a little jumpy. She wished that they would just stick to business. But then they were breaking apart and grabbing the minister's prick.
They licked together, Sharron on one side and Peggy on the other. They licked it so the shaft glistened with their spit. They licked it so that when they licked around the sides, their tongues came together and the tips touched. Their tits rested lightly against Cotton's pants. They rubbed them back and forth a little so the nipples hardened as they were stimulated by the clerical cloth. Mindy continued to watch them. She couldn't help being turned on by what she saw, or by the minister's tongue between her legs. He was a really good cuntlapper. She had to grant him that.
Mindy jumped a little when she felt his tongue flick against her asshole. She wanted to say something, maybe he didn't know what he was doing, but she felt a little embarrassed. After all, she was the one who was supposed to be a whore and a professional cunt for sale, but this fucking guy was really giving her the works. She was glad that Peggy and Sharron couldn't see what was happening back there.
She realized now that the minister was doing it deliberately. Although she wished that he would go back on her cunt-he had made it feel so good! There was a certain fascination in having her asshole licked by a man. He ran his tongue up and down the crack between the cheeks of her ass and then flicked lightly at her rectum. But his light flicks became harder. His tongue poked against her hole. Mindy found herself tightening up her muscles in her backside. It felt so. . . delicious!
She wanted him to go on. He was making her so sensitive back there that she almost wanted to reach back there and touch herself with her hand. If the two of them had been alone she might have done it. But she remembered how Lydia had told him to never give a customer more than he paid for. She was afraid to break the rule even though Peggy and Sharron were really going at it now. She watched them nervously.
The two girls were trading off now. First one put his bone in her mouth and then she passed his prick to the other. Peggy was sucking him deep inside her mouth. Mindy pushed down closer to watch. Her tits were brushing against Cotton's belly. It felt so nice. Then Sharron was grabbing her. Sharron was kissing her on the lips. Mindy surrendered, even though she hadn't meant to. It was funny to kiss a girl. She had never realized that it could be so groovy, especially when a guy had his tongue in your asshole. She had done it before when one of the girls made her, but she had felt uneasy about it. Today she was forgetting her hangups. She started to kiss Sharron back.
"Hey, let me have her," Peggy complained. She passed the stiff prick to Sharron and held Mindy's head lightly. The two women kissed as the third bobbed her head up and down on the minister's prick. Mindy could feel her ass being opened up. He had placed his hands on her cheeks now and was spreading them apart. It felt almost as if she was a little girl and a doctor was examining her. She tried to relax and feel the deliciously forbidden joy. Peggy was running her tongue into her mouth. Mindy let it happen. Peggy slipped her hands under Mindy's gorgeous knobs and Mindy sucked in a deep breath. Her tits were quivering. She felt like jelly. If all three of them wanted to stick their tongues up her ass, she wouldn't have cared. If the minister had told her to lick his asshole, she would have done it. Right now she would have done anything to keep the wonderful feeling.
"Want to make him come?" Sharron asked Peggy. Peggy nodded her head. She gave Mindy a knowing wink. Sharron clasped Mindy's head and the two women drew together. Peggy took Cotton's prick in her mouth. She wondered how fast she could make it happen. Her fist closed around his horny prick. She jerked at it, holding the head between her lips. She knew this was cheating but that fucking minister looked like he would never come. Of course, Mindy hadn't told her that he had made it twice already. Peggy frigged frantically, waiting to see if his cock would start to twitch. Then his hips were rising and she knew he was getting there. Jealously, she looked at Mindy and Sharron, kissing alongside her. Mindy had such lovely tits. Someday she would have Mindy in her room and they would rub their bodies together until their tits tingled and their cunts slobbered with cream. That would be delightful, but right now there was this fucking minister. . .
Peggy could feel it coming. She could almost sense the spunk rising from his balls. But he was still holding back on her. He seemed to have something else on his mind. "Turn around!" he suddenly cried to Mindy. The girl turned her head and looked at him, amazed. "Put it up your ass!" the minister hollered. Sharron and Peggy nodded their heads. They knew that Mindy hadn't done this kind of stuff before. Or if she had, she'd been too ashamed to admit it.
"Come on, kid, turn around," Sharron urged. "Remember, the customer's always right."
Mindy tried to fight them, she tried to stall. But even though the minister lay passive beneath her, the two whores were grabbing her and turning her around. They seemed as eager as he did to have her undergo this humiliation: As Mindy turned around, the minister grabbed at her tits. He kneaded and squeezed at them as Mindy planted her pert bottom over his loins. Sharron grabbed Cotton's cock and held it stiff. Peggy guided Mindy down on top of it. The two bodies came together but Mindy was too tight. His prick bounced off the tight brown eye. Peggy cursed and poked and tried to pull Cotton's joint up and at it. But it wouldn't go. Sharron had to maneuver the girl. They tried to work together. Mindy's ass was still bathed in saliva. It would have gone in easy if she hadn't been so tense.
They tried it once more and this time it went better. This time Mindy was less nervous and Sharron guided her better. Sharron helped to stretch the hole apart. Peggy pulled at the minister's prick and shoved it into the hole. The head slipped in as Mindy bit her lip. She hadn't realized that it would be so tight. She wanted to cry out but something stopped her. It was the curiously sensitive feeling as her body opened up. She felt the minister pushing inside her. And then something hot and wet was shooting up her bowels. Cotton Salter had come. Peggy's grip on his prick had been too tight. But nobody cared now, things were working out just right. Mindy closed her eyes and felt the faraway feeling. Sharron was stroking her ass. Peggy's fist was still wrapped around the minister's cock, frigging and squeezing and making his load pump up Mindy's shithole. They were all touching her. The minister was still holding her tits.
"Ohh!" Mindy cried, feeling the first trembling of an orgasm. Whores weren't supposed to feel things like that.
Peggy and Sharron continued to stroke her body as Mindy came off. They were pleased with what they had done, even though the minister's prick had slipped out of, her asshole and was now spurting come down the leg of his black trousers. He didn't seem to mind. By morning, when it was time for him to leave it would be dry. Peggy nodded to Sharron. Both girls turned to Mindy, who was still far, far away. "We've got to get back to work," they giggled, getting up from the bed. Peggy wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. She buttoned up her leather vest. Neither Mindy nor Cotton heard them slip out of the room.
Mindy struggled to get her breath. She still couldn't talk as she zipped up the minister's fly. This time she didn't stop to wipe off his prick, even though it had just been up her ass. She was afraid of what a little friction might do to it. She didn't want him to get started again. Finally she got control of herself. "Lydia wants to see you," she explained. She was eager as hell to get rid of him. He made her very nervous as she couldn't be sure what he was going to do next. She didn't even bother to straighten out her robe as she led him down the stairs. Lydia was waiting for them in her private office.
"It's been a long time, Cotton," Lydia noted as he sat down on the sofa beside her. "Did Mindy get you straightened out?" Cotton looked at her blankly.
He didn't know what she was talking about. He had been in a trance the whole time he was upstairs and only now was he beginning to regain his balance. With Lydia everything was all right. Again he reached into his pocket and pulled out the notes he had made. He held them out to her and this time Lydia took them. "What's this, Cotton? Plans for a new church?"
Lydia unfolded the paper and saw the drawing. There was a rough sketch of a girl, just an outline, but more detailed drawings close to her hands and ankles showed the dimensions for the shackles and chains. Lydia understood right away. Cotton had a plan. "Who's the lucky girl, Cotton?"
"In the church," Cotton explained. "She's there every Sunday. Who the fuck knows her name? Her old lady's some dried-up bat. But this cunt's cherry. Christ, Lydia, what the hell did they expect when they sent me to Martinsville?" he asked accusingly. "I've got to have something at night."
"Cotton, Cotton, you know you can always come here," she offered. "But the girl," she added thoughtfully. "You say she's cherry?" Cotton nodded his head. "You know. . . We don't get much stuff like that around here. And there's a demand. In fact, I've got this one guy. . . Cotton? Do you really give a shit who pops her? Are you really hot to be first?"
"Shit, Lydia, what the fuck do I care? The kid's cherry, but even if she wasn't it would all be the same. She's going to be a tasty little bit, oh ain't that the truth! But rust, last or otherwise, who gives a shit?"
"That's what I thought you'd say, Cotton. Well, it just so happens that I have a customer who does give a shit. In fact, he gives so much of a shit that he'll pay for the honor. What do you think about that, Cotton? How would you like a few hundred to buy new candles fur the church? But you're sure she's cherry?" Cotton nodded his head. "Then do me a favor. I'll get all this shit you want. I'll send the towel boy, first thing in the morning. But promise me this. Do what you want to the girl, do anything at all. Only don't stick your dick in her cunt . . . Not until I've had a look at her. How's that, Cotton? A deal? There'll be plenty in it for both of us, that's a promise, and then you can have her back. How's it sound?"
"I'd never refuse you, Lydia," Cotton told her truthfully. "You've been like a mother to me. But the chains?"
"I'll take care of that. Now come and show me how you treat your mother, you little motherfucker. That skinny kid Mindy didn't wear you out, did she? You only gave her one little thump, didn't you?" Cotton nodded his head. He didn't really remember. But now he was with Lydia and he began to undress. He took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. Lydia slipped out, to tell the girls to leave her alone for the night. Cotton took off his pants. His prick was limp but Lydia would make it hard again. With Lydia he could go all night. He tossed his shirt over the pants and sat back on the couch, waiting for Lydia and thinking of the little blonde cunt, the cunt that would soon be his.
Only after the chains were installed in the damp and musty basement room did Cotton even bother to find out what the girl's name was. It hardly mattered to him. If he could control her body he would be quite content to call her the first name that came to his mind. But knowing her real name would make it easier. After all, he still had to grab her. And in a small town like Martinsville that would make one hell of a fuss.
He learned that her name was Jane Hartley and she was eighteen. Her father was the owner of the largest corporation in town. It was a dinky-shit little outfit but Hartley was a cold-hearted prick who squeezed blood out of his workers and paid them no more than the state required. Even his executives worked for peanuts, but Hartley's factory was the only game in town. If they didn't like it they could pack up their marbles and get the hell out. A few of the younger ones did. The ones who stayed learned to take orders.
Her mother wasn't much different, than the other dried prunes who hung around the church, waiting to kick off and go meet their Maker. She wasn't particularly ugly. She might even have been good-looking at one time, but a tight, dry cunt had aged her and wrinkled her skin. Even the first time Cotton had seen Joe Hartley in church with his daughter, he had known that Joe played around. He probably had some little secretary at the office who fucked him regularly. Cotton laughed to think about it. A dumb bastard like Joe Hartley would probably be satisfied with screwing some pimply little girl who thought she had been hired to take steno. Christ, Hartley probably never even noticed what a piece of ass his daughter was. Probably he would die before he would stick his dick in that cunt.
The knowledge that Joe Hartley was such a big shot in town gave Cotton a particular delight when he thought about what he was going to do. Joe was the kind of dopey guy who thought he could screw around all he wanted but would shit a brick if he caught his daughter getting laid. Well, Jane Hartley was going to get laid and he almost wished that Joe could be there to see it. Christ, would that be a delight! To have that dumb gorilla sitting there watching while he made the girl suck his cock.
But that was only dreaming. And what was going to happen would be good enough. They would be alone, but it would be good. It would be something he would remember for the rest of his life. And it had to be soon. Thinking about it was getting him jumpy in the pulpit.
When the Reverend Cotton Salter walked into the assembly hall and saw Jane standing there all alone, he could hardly believe his eyes. For two solid weeks he had been thinking how he could get her alone someplace without anyone knowing. He knew that she would have met him anyplace that he asked. Only she was so dumb that she would have told somebody where she was going. He couldn't take that chance. Nor could he simply drive by her on the street and offer her a ride. Too many people noticed things like that. But here in the church! It was the perfect place. He looked at his watch and saw that the goddamn music director was probably still at home fucking his wife. That was the only way he could concentrate, working with young girls. Shit, what a horny fuck that Pollock was. He'd stick his dick in a pig if nobody was watching. But today that would be all right. Today Cotton knew just how to handle it.
Silently he passed the door of the assembly hall and found the telephone. He dialed Pollock's number and waited for a long while before a woman's voice answered. He had been right about what Pollock was doing. He could tell from the shyness in the woman's voice. Quickly he told her that there was some problem with the radiator and Mr. Pollock could be about fifteen minutes late today to get set up. The woman thanked him for calling and hurried back to her old man. Cotton smiled. Now everything would be perfect.
He went in to greet her. She was always the first to practice. She was such a goddamn little goody-goody, even if she didn't know it. Most of those other sluts showed up late, with bubblegum in their mouths and lipstick which they weren't supposed to be wearing in church. He wondered if it would be any fun to plug a couple of them sometime, just before he left Martinsville perhaps, but he might as well start at the top. There was no girl in town with tits like Jane Hartley's.
He could see that she was nervous when he approached her. He knew he had all these bitches scared. She was shitting in her pants when he asked her into his office. That gave him a laugh. He felt like pinching her ass right there in the assembly hall. He wondered what she would do it he tried it. She would probably just pretend that she didn't notice. He could walk in with his dick swinging and she'd probably pretend that she didn't notice.
Inside the office he sat down beside her. He wanted to touch her body. He knew it would bug the shit out of her and perhaps that was why he was so eager. When he brought his hand down on her knee, she flinched, but she didn't pull away. Cotton felt his prick getting hard. Just touching her made him want to fuck.
"Wait here," the minister commanded, getting up from where he was sitting. She heard the door open behind her but she was too scared to dare to move.
Cotton stepped out in the hallway and quickly made sure that no one had come in yet. He looked out the back window at the churchyard. It too was empty. Quickly he returned to the office. She was still sitting where he had left her. She didn't look up as he opened the locker along the wall. She turned her head and sniffed slightly as he poured the chloroform into the thick wad of cotton. He replaced the bottle on the shelf and quickly stepped behind, her. In an instant the wad was over her face. He held her while she struggled against him. She was breathing rapidly, sucking the chloroform into her lungs. She quickly grew weak. Her body slumped in the chair but he still held fast to her. There couldn't be any slip-up. It was too important. He waited until he was sure that she was out. Then he picked her up in his arms.
He carried her down the hall to the back door. Her body was completely limp and for a moment he thought that she might be dead. Then he felt her heart beat. A smile crossed his face. She was a perfect specimen-at least for now. He tried to imagine what she would look like after a few days in the cellar-or a few weeks. She was so beautiful that he could not bear the thought of sharing her, not even with the dog. He kicked the back door open and cursed under his breath as he stubbed his toe. He adjusted his arms under her and started across the yard. He walked as fast as he was able. He had to get her inside.
He stopped at the door of the basement but found that he couldn't reach into his pocket to get the key out without putting her down. He laid her gently on the cold stone, fearing for a moment that it might revive her. He opened the door and remembered that the flashlight was in the house. He didn't have time to get it. He had to get her out of sight. He quickly picked her up again and carried her over the threshold. She was his perfect bride. She was his now, to use as he would. In the darkness he carried her down the corridor, feeling his way with his foot. He reached the inner door and again had to put her down while he fumbled in the darkness to unlock it. It swung open and he carried her inside. He left her in the middle of the floor while he went to get a candle.
The dog was at the door when he went to close it. The dumb beast darted inside before he could stop him. Cotton was afraid that he would bark before he got the door closed, but the animal just whimpered. Cotton closed the door and struck a match. He lit one of the candles and hurried back to the inner room. He held the candle over her and saw that her eyes were still closed. He set the candle on the cabinet and picked her up under the armpits. Getting her up against the wall was awkward. She was dead weight.
He had to kick the dog to get him out of the way while he hoisted her up to the first shackle. He got her hand up to it but each time he held her arm at the right grip to go into the shackle, the shackle slipped away from him. He cursed the awkward arrangement and swore that once he got her into it he would never let her go. The blacksmith had made the wristbands too damn tight and he had to force her hands into them. He got the first one on and quickly snapped it shut and locked it. Her weight slipped out of his hand and her body slumped to the floor. Her arm pulled taut and was held by the chain. Her head fell limply forward in front of his crotch.
He felt like shoving his prick between her sleeping lips but he decided to wait. He took her other arm and again forced her weight onto her feet. The second arm was even more awkward than the first and he had set the shackles too far apart. Her body was stretched apart as he finally chained down her other hand. He stood back and looked at her. She was such a glorious sight. Her long blonde hair fell down over her bosom and even in the darkness he could see the perfect form of her arms and legs. He rubbed his cock as he looked at her. He hardly knew where to begin.
The dog had less difficulty deciding. There was only one part of her body which interested him. Cotton was still fingering his prick when the hound strained forward. He jumped up on her and pawed at her dress. Cotton watched his claws catch in the delicate material and pull it apart in shreds. Her slip was ripped to the floor, exposing the creamy whiteness of her inner thighs. The dog whimpered and sniffed her crotch. Cotton pulled him away. The dog could have her later. The master came first. He grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled him to the door where he had left a leash. He picked the burning candle off the cabinet and decided that he might as well get his flashlight while he was at it. She wasn't going anywhere. Not with those chains around her hands and feet. Cotton looked back at her and smiled. She was going to be a real treat.