Something Better

by Ozmanga

Chapter 7 Saturday Morning

3,405 words

"They are up to something," said Mary as she soaked in the warm bath after satisfying Pip's and Byron's morning glories. "They'd no sooner finished fucking me than they were out of bed and into their shower. They usually laze around until breakfast is ready."

Her husband gently soaped her neck and shoulders and when she lay back in the scented water used the soft sponge to caress her large breasts and big brown nipples. She sighed at Jeremy's sensitive touch. Through half-closed eyes she noted his erection was growing. Practice, she thought, makes perfect. She reached out to fondle his balls something neither of them would have wanted ten days ago.

"I suspect it has to do with the Jefferson twins' eighteenth birthday," said Jeremy. They've reached the age of consent and, judging by the way they have been hanging around our guests, all the twins require by way of courtship is a raised eyebrow."

"Maybe." said Mary. "Come here." She drew him to the side of the bath and took his tumescent cock into her mouth. Jeremy was more than gratified at her action he was aroused and responded with pleasure at her skillful use of her lips, tongue and mouth. When he came she directed the spurts of seed into the bath.

Pip banged on the door. "Come on, whore. Where's our breakfast?

"Thank you, darling," the vicar said. "I'm sorry my foolishness brought us to this."

"Was I better than Teddy?" she asked, climbing out of the bath and into the towel Jeremy held ready.

He nodded."Much." He nearly meant it.

***
The young woman in Pool Side Hut three, Suite three, struggled against the thin ropes that held her bound tightly to a stout wooden coffee table. She could see the sunrise through the one-way window that opened onto the pool. She could hear her tormentor in the bathroom and was terrified he would resume the pattern of pain and pleasure he inflicted on her during the long night. Her whole body throbbed with the pain of his caning. Her clothes hung in tatters and her pussy and anus were swollen and sore from frequent and forceful use. Her breasts ached and her nipples felt as though they had been peeled. She could still taste him in her mouth.

The man had surprised her when he let himself into the suite last night. She had been looking outside where she could see through the floor-to-ceiling window naked swimmers splashing in the warm water of the pool. Other men and women did things Olivia had only heard about in whispered conversations in the school dormitory or noted fleetingly on the net. As she looked a large blonde woman paused outside the window and appeared to look in. The blonde fluffed her affro-hairstyle then spread her legs so she could stroke her completely hairless pudendum with one hand and rub her full pendulous breasts with the other. Olivia took a backward step.

"It's a mirror to her," said the bishop. "She can't see in. She is narcissistic and is making love to herself. Masturbating. Do you masturbate, Olivia?"

The young woman jumped when she heard his voice. She had not heard him enter. She colored and stammered. "How do you know my name?" She was tall with a good figure and a mop of curly black hair. Her big brown eyes were staring wildly at the interloper. She was wearing the simple floral pattern dress and smart shoes she had chosen for the job interview. Olivia thought she knew his face but couldn't say from where.  

"Your name was on the key ring Madam Carla gave me. I asked you a question. Do you masturbate, Olivia?"

Olivia shook her head.

"Liar!"said the bishop and he slapped her hard on the side of her head. She stumbled and fell face down on the double bed that occupied about a quarter of the luxuriously appointed room. He pounced on her and ripped the floral print dress she was wearing from neck to hem so her smooth back was exposed.

"Everyone your age masturbates, Olivia. And young women who lie get spanked" He tugged her candy-striped cotton panties down her thighs. He pinned her to the bed with one hand and with the other gave her nicely rounded rump six very hard slaps that left bright red hand prints on her pink flesh.

Olivia screamed and shed hot tears but no-one heard her other than Bishop Carmine and he liked what he heard. He let her go and crossed the room to a wardrobe. The room key opened the wardrobe door to reveal a neatly arranged collection of ropes and straps and canes. Ball-gags and ring gags hung on hooks above an impressive array of dildos of various shapes and sizes. He selected a plain whippy cane about as thick as his middle finger. The bishop turned to face Olivia who had stood and pulled her pants up over her burning buttocks. 

When the frightened woman saw the cane in Carmine's hand she let out another scream and scrabbled desperately at the door.

"There's no escape, Olivia" said Carmine. "Go to the window. See what your blonde friend has found."

Despite herself Olivia turned and saw that while she had been spanked the blonde had attracted a pot-bellied lover. The man, even as the blonde continued to masturbate, inserted his rigid cock between her ass cheeks and thrust. The blonde's concentration on her reflection didn't waver.

"That's sodomy, Olivia. It hurts the first time. So I believe does losing your virginity. But you must decide what hurts more  the flogging I'm going to give you or surrendering your pussy and your ass to my cock, which is considerably bigger than fatso's out there. Come over here. I'll show you." He unzipped his pants and unfolded a cramped and growing erection."

Olivia looked at him and, realizing the hopelessness of her position, broke into tears. She fell on her knees.

"Please," she begged. "Don't hurt me any more. I thought it was a country club when I applied for the job of cabin maid. I was a student at the college and passed the gates lots of times. My visa ran out.  No one told me what really went on here. When Madam Carla interviewed me two days ago I realized it was just one big brothel. I'm a virgin. I'm not qualified!"

"Oh, but you are, Olivia," said Bishop Carmine in his most soothing voice."  He reached for her mop of tight curls, pulled her head down to his lap and pressed his growing erection between her lips. He rightly judged a polite young virgin like Olivia wouldn't bite him. "Just suck this until it grows some more," he said. "And then I'll show you just how qualified being a virgin makes you in my eyes."

***

"Where are they going in such a hurry?" asked Mary as she and Jeremy finished their breakfast and watched their uninvited guests drive away from the Manse.

"Jefferson's Farm," said Jeremy. "But it's nothing to do with the twins directly. I heard them talking about the help they've been giving Matthew and Samantha with some building. I'm surprised, I didn't think the farm could afford to hire help."

"You're right. They can't. The riding school is the only thing that keeps them going financially, according to Samantha."

"Why don't you drive over and see what they're up to. Get dressed. I'll do the washing up. I'll use the dishwasher."

Mary, not having been told by Pip what to wear, put on bra and panties and a cotton dress with a modest hemline. She slipped on some sandals and a straw hat and took the Toyota to Jefferson's Farm. 

When she arrived there was no sign of the young men and she was greeted in the yard by Samantha and the twins. She wished the girls happy birthday and they danced away to help the working party. Wearing stretch denim jeans and identical tops that accentuated their small pointed breasts the two young women could not be told apart. Samantha said the twins were helping to put that was putting the finishing touches to some accommodation. Samantha invited Mary in for a coffee. After exchanging the usual pleasantries and small-talk, Mary asked what accommodation the boys were helping with. In reply she got a quizzical stare from the blue-eyed Samantha.

"They haven't told you yet?" she asked.

"No," said Mary. "Is it a surprise?"


"If they haven't told you , Mary my dear, you will be surprised when they do. I see you're in your Mrs. Vicar's outfit. Matthew will be disappointed. He finds those jodhpurs of yours  worn without knickers a big turn-on. He can't wait to peel them off you and get between your thighs," said Samantha smiling wickedly.

Mary, unused to such language from Samantha, was stunned. She started to bristle. "Really! Samantha "

"Oh, come," said Samantha. "Stop pretending. Those lads have been in your bed every night since they arrived. You've blossomed. I saw how sexually frustrated you were before they arrived, remember. You were ready to tumble my Matthew in the hay. They've made you dress like a whore and I dare say, fuck like one but you walk like a goddam goddess."

"Dammit, they raped me!" responded Mary angrily.

"Yeah?" said Samantha sarcastically. "That's what they all say. Tell me, when this alleged rape took place, did you come?"

Mary, remembering the shock of her first encounter with the cousins and the subtle manipulation of her clitoris by Byron's capable fingers blushed. She was angry at Samantha's unusual directness and said weakly. "It doesn't matter if I did "

"And why didn't you report it?"

"They they knew something bad about Jeremy and then they took pictures. I can't report it."

"Hah," sneered Samantha. "You don't know who they are, do you? Your disadvantaged city youths?"

"A couple of over-sexed young hoodlums who have taken advantage of at least three households as they play a sadistic game of blackmail, threats of harm and outright brutality including multiple and serial rape. They avoid final confrontation by saying they will one day move to something better."

"You've got them all wrong, Mary. I know who they are. I user to work for their mother. They are clever, well educated and not without influence. They are following a plan. Let me tell you "

One of the twins burst into the room.

"Oh, good. You haven't gone. Pip says you're to follow me and come and see what they have just finished," she said with a grin. "Sam can come too."

"Sounds like your master calls," said Sam. "Let's go."

The two women followed Sandra or Sarah as she skipped across the farm yard and down a track that led to the building Mary had been told earlier accommodated the students who attended Summer Horse Camp. Mary noticed bars had been newly placed and painted outside all the windows. She had an uneasy feeling as they entered the building from the porch situated at the midpoint of the longest side that she was entering a prison. 

Inside the front door was a desk. "Reception," said Samantha. "Not finished yet but all the rooms are ready. Five each side of the corridor to your left, each with its own little shower and
john. Same as before, really, except the bars on the windows and the strong points set in floor and ceiling."

"What for," asked Mary, genuinely puzzled.

Samantha looked at Mary and shook her head. "On your right," she said, "are three unfinished rooms. Including the one Pip no doubt wishes to show you. Sarah, lead the way to the punishment room."

Sarah proudly opened the first door in the corridor to the right of the reception area and ushered Mary and Samantha through.

The room was big and smelled of newly planed timber, varnish and paint. There were two structures in the center of the room. The tallest was a pillory with a head-board adjustable for height and the other was a very long wooden-framed bed with a windlass top and bottom. Other bits and pieces lay about the floor. Pip, Byron and Matthew  proudly regarded their handiwork while the twins turned cartwheels down the length of the room.

"My word," said Pip. "Don't you look prim and proper. What do you think of our carpentry, Mary."

Mary was relieved Pip was sticking to the convention they had established of polite usage in public. Hopefully it meant no indignity was planned. But when she saw Matthew's
lustful stare and jean-bulging erection she was not so sure.

"I I think you're very clever, Pip. The pillory looks very efficient and I take it that the rack just needs ropes attached to the rollers to make it work."

Byron said, "And a naked woman attached to the ropes for the full effect. Any volunteers?"

Samantha laughed cruelly and told him to get the machine working first then she turned to Mary.

"Why don't you try out the pillory, Mary?" she said.

As if Samantha's question was a pre-arranged signal, the twins agreed enthusiastically and each took one of Mary's hands and pulled her to the well-built wooden structure. Pip raised the hinged top-section. 

"Let me take your hat," said Samantha as she gripped Mary's neck and forced it in the central groove of the lower board. The twins did the same with Mary's wrists and Pip lowered the top board to secure the vicar's wife in the pillory.

Mary held back a plea for them to stop. Perhaps, she thought, they only mean to frighten me.


"The board slides up and down the vertical frame," said Pip. "Here, let me show you." He adjusted some pegs at the sides of the frame and pressed down The head-board slid smoothly down its guides and Mary was forced to kneel before her neck broke. Then he slid it back up so Mary's head was held at waist height. She struggled to her feet. 

"Fasten her legs," said Pip and the twins hastened to strap a leather cuff to each of Mary's ankles and clip them onto ring-bolts set in the device's floor. This left the vicar's wife head down, ass up and legs spread wide.

Mary started to protest but her pleas were met with mocking laughter and she resigned herself to yet another shameful humiliation.

The twins began it by complaining that because of her dress and brassiere no one could see, let alone play with, her lovely tits. Pip used his flick knife and in seconds the floral print and cotton bra were in tatters on the floor. The twins, encouraged by Pip and Byron knelt either side of Mary and tenderly played with her unfettered bosom. Mary could not see what the girls were doing but could hear their giggling. Her nipples began to respond to the gentle torment. Despite her fears she felt her pussy begin to moisten.

"Samantha," cried Mary. "Please, stop them." She couldn't see the farmer's wife who was standing behind her beside an excited Matthew. Nor could she see the horseman. He had shucked his boots and pants and was stroking his cock in anticipation

Samantha giggled. "No, Mary," she said. "They're doing you a favor. Matthew is a big boy and your pussy should be juicy for him."

"No. You're not going to let your husband rape me. You can't!" gasped Mary.

"I can," said Samantha. "As he told you, I like to watch. You should have listened to him." She sighed. "And I like to do other things to helpless, big-titted, blondes. You'll see."

"But you're my friend," wailed the helpless Mary.

"Yeah. But this is business," said Samantha.

The twin's skilled play with fingers and mouths deployed against  her dangling breasts soon had Mary's juices flowing and she hardly felt Samantha pull her panties down to allow Matthew's cock to slip into her exposed vagina. His cock was thinner than Pip's and shorter than Byron's and he came after a short sharp burst of energy. She faked an orgasm to coincide with Matthew's climax and waited for the inevitable spit roast she knew her posture was designed to serve. Mary was not disappointed as, with the twins enthusiastic support, Pip and Byron did their stuff. Byron up her ass and Pip down her throat. They played to their audience and went at her so hard and so long that she nearly passed out as she experienced her final orgasm..

When the young men had finished it was Samantha who stood in front of the helpless Mary. She had stripped naked and was rubbing herself slowly up and down her slit, massaging her puffy cunt lips and touching her small hooded clitoris.
 
"Use your tongue, Mary," she panted. "Show me how good a friend you are."

Mary shook her head in defiance but changed her mind after the third stoke of a riding crop slashed a crimson wheal across her unprotected buttocks.

***
Gladys Wilson had not despaired of catching Mary in the act with Pip or Byron, who she supposed were Mary's lovers. Gladys was convinced Mary had somehow fooled the kindly vicar into letting them stay in the Manse where unholy liaisons were happening under his poor, unsuspecting, nose.

So far her dossier of incriminating shots comprised of eight photographs showing Mary Jones in a variety of tight, short, skirts and pants and revealing tops. She also had one picture of the scarlet trollop in riding clothes that could have been painted on to her naked body descending the stairs with one of her paramours adjusting his dress behind her. This Saturday she decided she would get the evidence she needed to convince Jeremy his wife was up to no good.

Sitting in her hide in the woods next to the Manse she saw Mary Jones drive off in the vicar's auto and about an hour later saw the vicar himself stroll down the lane towards the church. The young men's Honda was not parked in its usual spot. Gladys decided the Manse was empty.

Glady's crept into the empty house through the kitchen door. She could see nothing untoward in the kitchen. A lap-top computer a note-book she'd heard them called sat mutely on the reproduction welsh-dresser otherwise it was much as she had seen it before. She crossed the stone flagged floor and headed up the stairs for the bedrooms.

The woman was puzzled then shocked. Only one bedroom seemed to be in use, and strange use at that. The floor was strewn with discarded clothes. The bed was unmade and Gladys could see the sheets and eiderdown were liberally spattered with stains. So was the bedroom carpet. A chain was attached to one leg of the bed and the bed itself was surrounded by camera stands. Two digital cameras were mounted and one was on the floor by a cluttered bed-side table. On the other bed-side table lay a tube of gel and a large black dildo.

Gladys hurried down the stairs and would have left the house immediately but she bumped into the dresser and jolted the lap-top. The powerful little computer had been in sleep mode. It flickered into life. The first picture Gladys saw rooted her to the spot. The seventeen centimeter screen  showed Mary Jones, wearing only an apron, on her hands and knees fondling Pips knobbly cock while Byron explored the woman's ass. Here was the evidence she had sought to obtain! The Jezebel, caught in the act. But so blatantly displayed that the vicar must have seen it. Surely he couldn't have taken the picture, she thought. The picture faded and another flickered into view and then another. The presentation  in fact it was the screen saver  was endless. Each picture was a beautifully composed piece of pornographic art. 

Not all of the pictures featured Mary. Some were of a woman and her son the nice young curate who Gladys had met at the vicar's wedding. Others were of another couple. Gladys could not keep her eyes off the display and she was still staring in disbelief at a picture of the Reverend Jones grimacing in ecstacy as Byron nailed his naked ass when Pip pushed Mary weak-kneed and wearing only sandals and a wide-brimmed hat through the kitchen door.