Depravicus (31 page)

"I'm not
pissing in a fucking bowl."

"Oh, go on,"
Lana said huskily, her eyes widening.

"She'll be
pissing all over my fucking carpet unless I can find a fucking hack
fucking saw," Will mumbled. "Fuck me, why's everything so fucking
difficult? I mean, I can't even have an evening of filthy sex
without major fucking disastrous fucking problems. Fuck, fuck and
fucking fuck."

"Yes please,"
Lana grinned.

"Fuck me, this
is fucking serious."

"You do swear
a lot for a priest," Lana said.

"I'll fucking
swear in a fucking minute. All I need now is for Josie is come
marching in. Right, I need a fucking hacksaw."

Back in the
garden Will was sure he'd seen a hacksaw when he'd cleared out the
shed. Thinking that some cunt had nicked it, he looked up to the
night sky at the stars. Why was life so difficult? Josie might come
home at any minute, there was a girl handcuffed to the table and
she was desperate for a piss. Shaking his head he walked back to
the bar. Lana was on the floor at Lolita's feet holding a bowl
between the girl's thighs. Sitting at the bar, Will was past caring
about Josie. Whether a girl was handcuffed to the table or not,
she'd go mental.

"You taste
nice," Lana murmured, discarding the bowl and licking Lolita's
pussy. Watching, Will decided to relax and enjoy himself. Peeling
Lolita's fleshy pussy lips wide apart, Lana sucked her clitoris
into her mouth and moaned through her nose. The girls really were
little beauties, Will thought, his cock stiffening, his balls
heaving again. He was a priest, he reflected happily, wondering
what Josie would think as he toyed with his erect penis. If he
could deal with the Mother Inferior once and for all, he mused. And
PC Bridlington and old man Kosher and...

"Suck my
juices," Lolita breathed, her eyes closed as she rolled her head
from side to side. Locking her lips to the pink flesh surrounding
the girl's vaginal entrance, Lana sucked hard. Will decided to
arse-fuck Lana once she'd finished drinking from the slut's cunt.
This was the life, he chuckled inwardly, moving behind the bar and
pouring a pint of lager. A lesbian show, plenty to drink, and the
prospect of Josie returning. Unable to get the thought out of his
head, he rummaged through the box of free samples to try to take
his mind off the girl.

Pulling out a
strange metal device, he examined it. A steel ring with a small
motor attached and a wire leading to a plastic box, he reckoned it
was a penis vibrator. Slipping the ring over his purple glans, he
flicked the switch on the box. The small motor whirring, the ring
buzzing, he gasped as the incredible sensations permeated his
twitching cock. This was incredible, he thought, turning the
control down, the vibrations gently stimulating his swollen glans.
Staggering across the room, his cock twitching, he stood by the
girls to get a better view of the lesbian cunny tonguing.

"You'll enjoy
this," Lana breathed, driving three fingers deep into Lolita's
vaginal cavern. Pushing and twisting, she managed to force half her
fist into the girl's sex hole. Writhing on the table as her cunny
suddenly swallowed Lana's fist, Lolita cried out in her sexual
euphoria. This was lessie sex at its best, Will mused, turning the
control up, his cock twitching wildly as the vibrations permeated
his throbbing knob. His penile shaft swelling, his legs sagging, he
knew that he was about to come.

"Yes," he
breathed, his cock jolting with every spurt of his spunk. His
orgasmic fluid liquid splattering Lana's hair, raining over
Lolita's naked body, Will swayed on his trembling legs as the small
vibrator sustained his massive orgasm. Again and again his sperm
shot from his vibrating knob in long strands. Looking up, Lana
opened her mouth wide, catching the flying spunk on her tongue as
she fisted Lolita's inflamed vaginal cave. Moving forward, Will
thrust his cockhead into Lana's mouth, gasping as she drank from
his vibrating glans.

The front
doorbell ringing, Will glanced at the clock. It was well past
midnight. No one would call at that time, apart from Josie. As Lana
sucked the last of his spunk from his aching knob, Will staggered
back and flicked the switch. The thing still buzzing, he tried the
switch again. "Fuck," he gasped, his knob swelling in preparation
for another orgasm. Almost in pain, he fiddled with the plastic box
as the doorbell rang out again. As a last resort, he sung the box
by its wire and smashed it against the bar. The steel ring still
buzzing wildly, he told the girls to keep quiet.

Slipping into
the lounge, clutching the buzzing ring with both hands to quieten
the device, he peered through the net curtains. He couldn't make
out who the figure was lurking in the dark by the front door. The
bell ringing again, he hoped his unwelcome visitor would give up
and sod off.

"God," he
breathed, his knob throbbing, his hands filling with spunk. "Ah,
God." Staggering back, he flopped into an armchair and tried to
yank the ring off his orgasming knob. Spunk flying everywhere, he
stared wide eyed as a face pressed against the window glass.
"Jesus," he whispered, his knob aching as the last of his sperm
jetted from his slit. Was it Josie? "I'm fucking doomed."

Will shook his
head despondently. "The culprit is despicable," he said, facing the
Sunday congregation from the pulpit. "Sneaking around people's
gardens, hiding in bushes, ringing doorbells late at night and
peering through windows. We have a peeping tom in our village."

"We know
that," someone sniggered from the back.

"Who said
that?" Will asked angrily, gazing at the sea of faces. "That's
typical. You all behave like schoolchildren. Sniggering, making
silly remarks... OK, the sermon today concerns morals. We are all
sinners."

"Speak for
yourself."

"Whoever that
is, shut the fuck up."

"You can't
swear like that in church," Mrs Baxter gasped from the front
row.

"Of course I
can, it's my church. OK, morals. Or, I should say in most cases,
immorals. You're all sinners."

"He can't say,
immorals
," Mrs Baxter muttered to the
woman sitting beside her.

"He has no
grasp of the English language whatsoever."

"I'll grasp
you by the throat unless you shut your mouth," Will hissed. "If
there's one more comment, one more interruption, you'll all stay
behind after the service. Right, we'll get on. Sins of the flesh
are rife in Cumsdale Village. Never have I seen such rifation."

"Um..."

"I've warned
you, Mrs Baxter."

"Sorry."

"The orgasmic
cries of teenage girls echo around the woods on a daily basis. No
longer do we hear the songs of the birds, the rustling of the
foliage in the summer breeze. All we hear are grunts and groans,
the sound of flesh against flesh. Where are the sounds of leather
against willow? As I've recently appointed myself Mayor of
Cumsdale, I've drawn up some rules for the village. Rule one."

"You're not
the Mayor," someone called.

"Yes, I am.
Cumsdale needs someone at the helm. A man of God, a man of
strength, morals, virtue, leadership... Rule one. Thou shalt not
enter the woods without first purchasing a woods visitor's pass
from me. The passes are five pounds each. Except for teenage girls
who'll pay nothing. Rule two. Anyone wishing to fish in the lake
will purchase a piss, piscitoral...Will purchase a fishing permit
from me. Ten pounds each and I'm losing money."

"Permits are
obtained from the river authority," PC Bridlington called.

"Not any more,
they're not. Rule three. Licensing laws in Cumsdale are to be
tightened. I will not tolerate heavy drinking. The pub will only be
allowed to open between one and two in the afternoons and seven and
eight in the evenings."

"You can't
fucking do that!" Jack called. "I won't make any fucking
money."

"PC
Bridlington, arrest that man for language of the foulest. Rule
four..."

Lurking in the
shadows, the Reverend Mother and Father Kosher made notes of Will's
sermon. Far from having given up, as Will had hoped, they were out
with a vengeance to defrock him. When the Reverend Mother had
received several phone calls from irate parents in response to the
letters Will had sent, she'd become incensed, swearing to seek
revenge on the man. Father Kosher had also had enough of Will's
interfering ways, his threats to expose the cock sucking, the cunny
licking, over the altar in his church.

"Right," the
Mother Superior whispered. "We'll leave him to his ridiculous
sermon and go and take a look around his house."

"Is that
wise?" Father Kosher asked. "I mean, it's breaking and entering.
It's burglary, it's housebreaking, it's..."

"It's a bloody
good idea, Father. We'll gather all the information we can and
compile a dossier on the evil man. We'll raid the place and check
the computer for filth, gather photographic evidence of..."

"I don't think
we should look for photographs," Father Kosher broke in with more
than a hint of guilt in his voice.

"Why ever not?
If we can get our hands on photographic evidence of debauchery most
high, photographs of the sexual exploits that go on in the
woods..."

"I'll check
for photographs, Reverend Mother. You check the computer and I'll
search for the photographs of Marianne and me in the church... I
mean, Entercock in the woods with girls with beautifully firm,
squeezable... I'll look for photographs."

"Good man. OK,
let's go."

Leaving the
church, the unlikely pair stole around the back of Will's house and
slipped through the door into the kitchen. Lana and Lolita were in
the bar, unaware as the intruders climbed the stairs and entered
Will's office. Rummaging through drawers as the Reverend Mother
switched the computer on, Father Kosher pulled out an envelope
packed with photographs. One showed the Bishop with his knob
embedded within Marianne's mouth, his spunk flowing down her chin
and dripping onto her breasts. Another depicted the naked man on
all fours, his buttocks projected as Marianne lashed him with a
bamboo cane. Much to Kosher's relief, there were no pictures of his
lewd exploits over the altar with Marianne.

"Look at
this," the Mother Superior whispered, gazing at the computer
screen. "This is his web site."

"Freshly-worn
convent panties for sale," Kosher breathed, reading from the
screen. "Well-juiced and wrapped in sealed plastic bags to
preserve... To order online, click here. Shall we order a few
pairs?"

"Father
Kosher," the woman gasped. "We are not here to purchase disgusting
items of undergarments. What on earth is the matter with you,
man?"

"No, no. I
mean, as evidence. Order a few pairs and..."

"Ah, I see
what you mean. Yes, you're right. The knickers are bound to have
name tags in them. It's a rule that all girls' clothing must be
name tagged. Give me your credit card and I'll order a few
pairs."

"I don't have
a credit card."

"Why not?
What's wrong with you?"

"My credit
rating is not too good."

"Not too good?
Are you a convicted thief?"

"No. It's just
that I had a little trouble a year ago. You see, I was trying to
get a credit card in another name and..."

"All right,
I'll use my card. You carry on searching the office while I do
this."

Searching the
shelves while the Reverend Mother ordered half a dozen pairs of
knickers, Father Kosher discovered a diary. Opening the
leather-bound book he flicked through the thumbed pages and
grinned. Names and addresses of girls, phone numbers, times and
places, which girls were into what... Slipping the diary into the
pocket of his cassock he decided to use the information for his own
benefit, to satisfy his own sexual cravings. With a list of girls
who were into kinky sexual practices he'd have the time of his
life. He'd blackmail them, he decided. Threaten to expose their
sexual exploits with Father Entercock unless they agreed to satisfy
his own yearnings.

"Look at
this," the Reverend Mother said, staring at the computer screen.
"It's a list of all the convent girls who supply Entercock with
used underwear."

"Good grief.
What sort of place is the convent? To have that sort of thing going
on is despicable. Whoever's in charge should be..."

"I'm in
charge, you fool."

"Oh, er... So
you are. It's a fine convent, Reverend Mother."

"Damned right,
it is."

"I think you'd
better print a copy of the list for me," Kosher said, mopping his
brow with his handkerchief.

"Why do you
want a copy?"

"Well, these
girls are obviously promiscuous in the extreme. They have no
morals. They must be wicked, hot, horny... I mean... I'll have to
deal with them most severely for their wicked sins."

"If there's
any dealing to be done, then I'll see to it."

"Yes, but I
think you should let me have a copy of the list. For my files, so
to speak."

"For your
files?"

"Er... My file
recording of the sexual behaviour of teenage girls."

"My God, look
at this. The girls charge Entercock five pounds for a pair of dirty
knickers. Look at the list of names. Marsha Cummings, Felicity
Frigging-Bottom..."

"That's that
tall blonde with the big... I mean... I wish I had a photographic
memory."

"Why?"

"So I could
take photographs. I really do think you should print a copy of the
list, Reverend Mother."

"All right,
but... What's this? My God. An e-mail has just arrived from Sister
Uterinus. She wants to meet Entercock at the convent this
evening."