Chapter 16
Like anyone in a strange house for the first time, Sugar had no idea where Cummings was taking her, as he led her through several doors and a labyrinth of corridors. She knew only that it was an unusual experience to be walking with a man, both of them in the nude, his limp whang bouncing almost in rhythm with her beauteous big breasts.
It was even more startling when Sugar found herself in what looked like a huge, dimly lighted hall, where at least a couple of dozen people were gathered. There seemed to be an equal number of men and women of varying ages from very young to middle age-all of them as bare-ass as she and Cummings were.
Since everyone was drinking, somebody shoved a long-stemmed glass into Sugar's hand. Then, with an arm around her waist, fingers strategically placed just below her left tit, Cummings took her through the crowd, introducing her. These introductions like their attire were almost nonexistent. Only first names were used, and nobody asked or volunteered any further information about themselves.
It wasn't likely it would have made much of an impression on Sugar even if they had. In her present state, still suffering from the shock of everything happening so quickly, so unexpectedly and in such bizarre fashion, everyone in the half-light became just a part of a smear of leering faces, naked breasts and buttocks and diversified erections.
It was obvious to Sugar that none of these people were here for mere conversation, and as the liquor flowed more freely, the reason for the gathering became increasingly apparent.
Standing in the center of the floor with Sugar still beside him, Cummings called for attention. "Brothers...Sisters ..." he announced sonorously. "As usual on Saturday night, I've arranged a little entertainment for you-before we all get down to the business at hand."
Without further introduction, he pointed to a doorway off to one side of the hall, where a curtain parted and a startlingly attractive girl appeared, seated bareback and bare-assed astride a beautiful, all-white pure-blood Arabian stallion. The girl's long hair was white, too, as white as the stallion's long mane and tail. It covered her breasts and thighs but still left enough flesh exposed to show she was as naked as everyone else.
"I give you Lady Godiva-nineteen seventy-three!" Cummings declared. "She'll show you what really happened during her famous ride through Coventry."
Then with Sugar he moved aside as "Lady Godiva" rode her beautiful, sleek, white stallion to stage center. Pillows were strewn about on the floor, and the lights were adjusted so that the center of the hall was more illuminated than the fringes.
It didn't take Sugar, or anyone else in the crowd, very long to see what the blonde girl was up to. Extending her long, shapely, naked legs out stiffly at either side of the animal, she began posting and rubbing her uncovered pussy wildly back and forth against the horse's back until its sleek white coat glistened with her cunt juice. Simulated or not, she went through the contortions of three orgasms-stiffening, throwing back her platinum head, cupping and squeezing her tits together and moaning in her heat.
Satiation, however, was not her goal. She functioned in a completely opposite manner. The more orgasms she achieved, the greater her desire seemed to become. Again, it may have been only sham, but she carried it off with such conviction, it was impossible to tell.
Following her third climax, "Lady Godiva" slid down off the horse's back onto the floor. She swept back her long, sun-drenched hair to reveal her flawlessly formed, long-stemmed body. She stroked the animal's long silky mane, then ran a hand down over its withers, girth and suggestively over the underside of its belly.
Moving forward to the stallion's intelligent-looking head, she kissed it affectionately between its widespread eyes. Then she brushed her dangling, voluptuous tits against its velvety-soft muzzle, allowing the animal to lip her nipples, which it had been trained to do, without nipping or biting.
On command, the horse lowered its head until its muzzle was clenched between the girl's naked thighs. Then she threw both arms around its head and, clinging tightly to it, humped her way to still another orgasm.
Whether it was the heat and scent of the girl's pussy, or whether like everything else, it had been trained to react that way, the stallion's long, fat, red horse prick peeked from its casing and began to extend downward between its satiny-smooth white flanks. It was at this point that the blonde girl moved away from the stallion's head and began to crawl beneath its belly.
Sugar gasped with revulsion as she heard a man in the crowd cry out, "Boy oh boy, will you take a look at that cock!"
"What's she going to do with it?" somebody else wanted to know. "Suck it?"
"Or maybe fuck it," came from another.
Then a woman's voice sang out. "I envy her. Such a beautiful animal. Such a wonderful big tool. If she doesn't want it, I'll take it-gladly!"
Sugar was moved to a state of nausea at the mere thought of such a thing. She tried to turn her head away. But Cummings cupped her face and made her watch.
"It'll do you good," he insisted. "Maybe teach you a few new tricks?"
Sugar shuddered as she watched the blonde girl grasp the stallion's elongated, slippery, red prick in her two hands and begin to masturbate it. Was she really going to do what those in the crowd suggested?
The stallion's cock was fully extended now, dripping fluid as it tossed its head about and began to make fucking motions. The animal had not been trained to do this. This was the real McCoy-and small wonder. The blonde, now down on her knees, face upturned, was licking the length of the horse's brilliant cock. Then after a few swipes, she raised her mouth, lips open as wide as she could stretch them and let the long, fat, bright-red instrument slide into her mouth, slowly, only an inch or so at a time, until she had taken all of its length that she could manage.
The crowd went wild, shouting and screaming encouragement to the blonde girl to bring the stallion on, as she sucked passionately on the red prick.
Never in her life would Sugar have believed such a thing possible, that any woman could so completely lose her self-respect as to perform fellatio on an animal. She couldn't see, either, how anyone possibly could become excited watching such an act. But they did. Cocks were being sucked and couples were beginning to ball all around her.
The blonde girl's lips were already slick with the stallion's pre-come as the animal began hunching, driving his huge red whang in and out of her lovely mouth, stretching her jaws to the utmost. Finally she could take no more. She let go of the prick and dropped back onto the floor. The stallion went wild, his source of pleasure denied him. He began tossing his mane wildly, whinnying, pawing the ground with his front hooves and continuing to make humping movements.
Wiping the stallion's juice from her mouth with the back of her hand, the blonde girl turned her face to the crowd. "I need help," she called out. "I need a couple of strong men to help me."
Of the more than half a dozen volunteers who came forward, she selected the two more formidable-looking. On her instruction, they lifted her and with her legs opened wide apart, fitted the stallion's murderous-looking red cock into her gaping, drenched cunt.
It was a sight to make most any woman shiver. Sugar felt as if she could retch as she watched the horse's immense red rod enter the blonde's pussy. She guessed the girl must have been incredibly large to be able to accept such a gigantic organ-or else it was something the girl had gotten used to.
The moment the stallion was fitted inside her, the blonde wrapped both arms around its belly. Then with her legs still splayed, she instructed the two men to move her up and down to the beast's rhythm.
Here was a woman actually being fucked by a horse and from the expression on her face, enjoying it immensely. In fact, as the stallion continued to stab its great cock into her guts, the girl, with her head hanging limply and her long blonde hair touching the floor, seemed as much of an animal as the horse.
Suddenly she let out a scream, loud, piercing and half-crazed, as the stallion apparently reached its peak and came. Even as the sperm spurted out of him into her cunt to dribble in great gobs down between her thighs and splatter the floor, the animal continued to hump away at her.
"Enough!" the girl cried out finally, and the two men who'd been holding her pulled her down and away from the stallion and lowered her to the floor. She lay there shuddering, moaning, pushing down on her belly with both hands as if to ease the tremendous pressure the horse must have brought her.
The stallion, meantime, stood there looking bewildered, cock dripping, until an attendant appeared and led it away.
It was at this point that a couple of men, erotically stirred like everyone else-except Sugar-by the exhibition they'd just witnessed, grabbed Sugar and began dragging her away from Cummings' side. She called out to him, frantically, to help her. But he only turned his head to look at her, then laughed at her plight amusedly.
The two men carried Sugar to a darkened corner of the cavernous hall and placed her upon a bank of pillows. They began kissing and tonguing her all over her body, front and back, stroking and probing with their hands and fingers. She cried out in desperation. But no one heard her, or if they did, paid no attention. Because by this time, the party had turned into a full-scale orgy.
Everyone was involved, even "Lady Godiva" who had recovered from her sex-bout with the stallion to become a part of the great pile of flesh writhing on the floor, fucking, sucking, licking, buggering. A strange, eerie crescendo of obscene sounds filled the hall-wet, slurping, gasping, moaning.
Sugar, meantime, tried to fight off the two men who were working on her. But she was no more successful than she'd been with her mother and uncle that night before graduation. She had not the slightest idea who the two men were, what they even looked like. But one of them got behind her and held her down on her back atop him, while the other splayed her legs as wide as they'd open up, then spread the lips of her pussy and licked the soft, sopping flesh inside until she exploded in orgasm against his tongue.
Then she felt the man beneath her fitting his cock into her puckered asshole, while the other man got atop her and put his prick in the front hole where his tongue had been.
Sugar had stopped her struggling and her yelling. She saw it was no use, as the two of them began pumping in and out of her two holes as hard as they could, giving Sugar her first taste of a sex sandwich.
She had never experienced such a feeling. At first, it had been horrible, torture in every sense of the word. But her pussy was getting wetter and wetter, preparing it for the onslaught and her asshole, once it was properly stretched, didn't hurt any more than when Damon did her that way. The feel of the two cocks passing each other and rubbing her two passageways together on every stroke had her moaning and throwing her head around in a strange kind of delirious ecstasy. She began waving her arms, kicking her legs, looking like a rag doll between them.
The two men were panting, their naked bodies alive with energy and lust, drenching her with their sweat. The man behind her was the first to come. He filled Sugar's ass with the milky stuff. He left his shrinking cock in the hole, too, continuing to hold her atop him, not that it was any longer necessary for him to restrain her, while his friend continued to plug and unplug Sugar's gaping front hole.
Her loud groans and outcries had now become soft mutterings of pleasure as she felt her orgasm and his gradually approaching. She came first, quivering and shuddering but still not crying out. She had used up her voice.
She pushed her tits up hard against the chest of the man atop her as she peaked. He came, shooting his groin forward with a muffled scream. He pumped in and out frantically, licking at her neck and throat and shoulder noisily as she squeezed every last drop out of his cock with her cunt walls.
Reluctantly, he pulled back from Sugar and his cock came out of her tortured hole. The man beneath her let go of her and she began to crawl away from them. But she didn't get very far. Two other men had been watching and apparently liked what they saw. They grabbed her and began giving her the same treatment all over again. Only this time the two men decided to try it standing up, with Sugar sandwiched between them, suspended on their two pricks, her feet not touching the floor.
What new sensation this might have brought her, Sugar never found out. Because she wasn't around for the finish-at least not consciously. Somewhere between the insertion of the cock in her rectum and the one in her pussy, the stimulation became too great for her-and her senses took leave of the world of reality...
Again, as she'd done with her mother and uncle that night the two of them raped her, Sugar was oblivious to everything that happened following the menage a trois, until she awoke the next morning in bed. It took her several long moments before she could even begin to figure out where she was.
Then, as her thoughts began to gradually sort themselves out, she discovered she was in bed-the biggest bed she had ever seen in her whole life. She was lying on silk sheets, black silk sheets, top and bottom.
Everything suddenly came back to her in a torrent-coming to see Clyde Cummings in his incredible mansion...the session with him in the library...the audience watching from the other side of the mirrored wall...the naked crowd in the big hall...the blonde girl and the stallion...the two men who grabbed her. She sat up sharply and shook her head in bewilderment. Had those things really happened, or was it all just a part of a crazy, mixed-up dream?
"Good morning!"
The voice came from across the room. Sugar turned and saw Clyde Cummings standing in the open doorway that led in from the corridor. He was wearing a black satin robe and a white ascot that went nicely with his tanned face and silver-streaked hair.
"I'm glad you're awake, Sugar darling," he said as he stepped toward the bed. "You just have time for breakfast before services."
Sugar brought up one of the black silk sheets and held it under her chin, hiding her nakedness, as she frowned and asked, "Services? What services?"
"Religious services, darling," he replied. "Surely you didn't think we'd let Sunday pass without them?" He halted beside the bed for a moment, looking down at her. "Remarkable, I don't believe I've ever seen anyone look as lovely as you, first thing in the morning." He sat on the edge of the bed beside her and tugged gently at the sheet she was holding. "I want to make sure your body is as beautiful as I remembered, or if I just imagined it."
He gave another tug at the sheet and Sugar, remembering why she was there, let it go. He pulled it down to below her knees and scanned her nakedness with his eyes.
"Beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Just as beautiful as I remember it."
He ran a hand over her satin-smooth thighs, through her curly brown bush, then took hold of one of her tits and leaning into her brought it to his mouth. She felt the nipple tingle and grow rigid between his lips as he sucked hard on it. Then suddenly he drew back and looked down at the tit he'd been suckling in amazement. There, on tip of the nipple, was a pinpoint of chalky-white fluid. He raised his eyes to meet her gaze.
"Is that what I think it is?" he demanded.
She nodded. She guessed he hadn't sucked long enough on them last night to draw forth any milk. But he damn sure made up for it now. From one tit to the other his mouth went, sucking gluttonishly, until the nipples were bright red and every drop of secretion had been drained from them, at the same time awakening her passion to a point of readiness. She could see by the stiffness of his cock under his black robe that he was ready, too.
But instead of laying her, he got up from the bed and, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, said, "There'll be plenty of time for that after services. Right now you'd better get under the shower and I'll have breakfast sent up for you."
Sugar did as he told her. She showered in the sprawling bathroom that made the one at the apartment look like a backhouse. Then she put on a negligee, and when she returned to the bedroom, breakfast was waiting as Cummings promised.
She wasn't even halfway through the sumptuous breakfast that tasted delicious after her ordeal of last night when Cummings returned to the bedroom. He was still wearing the same black satin bathrobe.
"Ready, darling?" he asked her. "Services are about to begin."
"Give me a minute to get something on," she said as she started to move the tray with the remainder of her breakfast aside and get out of bed.
"What you're wearing will do very nicely," he told her.
She looked down at herself. The negligee was no more than a thin veil through which her breasts, her pubic hair and the rest of her anatomy was clearly visible.
"You mean-go to church services, like this?" she gasped.
He held up a cautioning hand. "I didn't say church services, darling. I said religious services."
To Sugar they both meant the same thing, and for the life of her she couldn't imagine what kind of "religious services" would permit anyone to attend in a robe like his and a negligee like the one she was wearing.
He came forward and took hold of her arm and led her out the door. They walked along the corridor, down the marble staircase into the foyer with all those obscene paintings looking down at them from within their gold frames. When they got downstairs, they went through a heavy door and followed another long corridor and down still another flight of stairs. These were rough stone steps that seemed to lead into what appeared to be the cellar, which led to still another door. A massive door behind which Sugar found at least a part of the answer to her puzzlement.
Because here, to all effects and purposes, was what appeared to be a chapel. But like no other chapel Sugar had ever seen before. It looked more like a grotto carved out of solid rock, with burning tapers on the wall to illuminate the place instead of electricity or even gas.
There were rows of rough-hewn pews filled with an assortment of people that looked like the group she met last night, all of them dressed the same way that she and Cummings were dressed, in negligees and robes. At the front end of the chapel was an altar and suspended directly behind it, instead of a cross or a star, was the huge replica of a phallus!
For a moment, Sugar felt her knees weaken and she was about to turn and run from the chapel. But Cummings had hold of her arm in a tight grip as he led her down the center aisle toward the altar.
Sugar kept her eyes focused on the huge phallus that must have measured at least twenty-five feet from tip to base. It was made of firm, flesh-colored latex rubber, and as she came closer to it, as near as she could remember, it was a duplicated enlargement of Cummings' own phallus. Exact in every detail, from the network of tiny veins to the roll of wrinkled foreskin to the half-exposed purple-blue glans and urethral crease. Sugar had to admit it was a masterful piece of work, as she continued along the aisle with him until they reached the altar. Then he turned to face the congregation. He raised his hands high above his head and muttered some kind of mumbo-jumbo. Everyone stood and stripped off their garments-including Cummings himself. As everyone else sat down, he glanced at Sugar and with a scowl instructed her to shed her negligee, too. There was little else she could do but obey.
What happened next was the stuff of nightmares. Incorporating phrases from orthodox prayers and sermons but twisting them to suit his own purpose, Cummings delivered a spiel about phalluses and vaginas and fertility and sex that was out and out sacrilegious.
Sugar, of course, had heard of phallus worship, of exalting the sexual organs. How it was still found among certain races of high culture around the world. How the penis and, in some instances, the vagina were considered sacred as the reproductive force in Nature.
It became obvious to her, as she listened to his sermon, that, whether or not Cummings sincerely believed in it, or whether it was merely a prelude to his sexual orgies, he had formed this religious cult. By the same token, she couldn't help but wonder about his followers, whether they truly believed in what he was preaching, or if they, too, found it a convenient excuse and coverup for their promiscuousness.
Whatever, she had to admit it all looked and sounded very convincing. What her part in all this was to be, she didn't know. She wondered if to obtain that quarter of a million dollars he was offering, she'd have to become one of his disciples, too. She wasn't sure she could be that good an actress. But if it became necessary, she most certainly would try to be convincing. That money meant a new life for her. Or else she never would have come here.
What astounded Sugar was that, as she stood at the altar with Cummings, looking out at the congregation, how many familiar faces she saw. Not people she actually knew. But people like Cummings, whose pictures she'd seen in the papers, in magazines and on the boob tube. Important businessmen, people high in politics, show business names, a biggie from the sports world. All of them highly respected pillars of the community. People she'd never dreamed would be mixed up in anything like this. Yet, there they were sitting before her, with their clothes and their masks off. Two of them, at least, who'd ravished her last night during the orgy.
Thankfully, Cummings' sermon was brief, but that by no means concluded the services. First of all, each of the female members of the audience had to come down to the front of the altar, kneel before him and kiss his penis, while he placed a hand on their head and gave them his blessings. A couple of the women became overzealous and gobbled his cock in their mouth and had to be pried away by a couple of "deacons".
Then Cummings asked if there were any new members who wished to join his religious family. Sugar was appalled when she saw a man stand up and bring forward his young daughter. She recognized him at once as having run for office in the last election. She wasn't sure whether it was for the city council or for the state assembly. But there was no doubt about it being the same man.
That, however, wasn't what shocked her so much. It was his daughter. She was very pretty with long auburn hair. She couldn't have been any more than fifteen. Her young body wasn't even fully developed, with tiny, lemon-shaped titties and a mons that had only begun to sprout a few wisps of reddish-bronze hair. Still, as Sugar took a second look around, there were other young girls in the congregation, too.
There was a brief question-and-answer session at the altar between Cummings and the girl and her father. Never taking his eyes off the girl's cute little tits all the time she was standing before him, Cummings wanted to know if the girl wished to join of her own volition, which both she and her father assured Cummings, she did. At which point, Cummings announced that, as the first step toward the girl's indoctrination into the cult, she must have intercourse with one of the congregation. Cummings, as much as he might have relished the assignment, knew that he'd murder the girl with a weapon his size. So he told her to make her own selection.
To Sugar's profound amazement, the girl chose her own father. But to everyone else, it seemed a natural, normal solution. Because, as Sugar learned later, incest was part and parcel of Cummings' sect. Brothers and sisters, mothers and sons, fathers and daughters-it was all one big, happy family. So to no one's wonderment except Sugar's, the pretty young thing with the auburn hair climbed up onto the altar, where she lay on her back, spread her legs and let her father make his entry. Except for a faint whimper when he broke her cherry, the girl lay perfectly still and silent until her father achieved his satisfaction.
That, however, still didn't complete the services. Since the ceremony that the young girl just performed with her father was restricted to virgins joining the cult, Cummings had another revelation waiting for Sugar. Her initiation, coupled with what happened last night, entailed something entirely different.
In the congregation, including Cummings and his two deacons, were fifteen men. They all lined up on the altar, where Sugar was told to get down on her knees and crawl from one to the other, performing fellatio on each of them. At first she reneged and said she couldn't do it. But then she thought of how much she could do with that two hundred fifty thousand dollars. She remembered hearing or reading, too, that Cleopatra once sucked off the entire senate at one session-and what Cleopatra could do, Sugar was sure she could do, also. So, without further reluctance or concern as to how degenerate it might be, she got down on her knees and sucked off the first cock...and the next...and the next...until she had finished with the entire fifteen.
Then, as she got to her feet with her jaws aching and her mouth tasting vile, she guessed that earning that quarter of a million dollars wasn't going to be as simple as she had imagined...and couldn't help but wonder what diabolical sex act he'd ask her to perform next.