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‘Hello, Galatea,’ he says.
I try to return his smile but, although I’m buzzing with pleasure at what he’s done to me, I still can’t help but feel terrible for my earlier failure. ‘I’m sorry,’ I murmur, not sure what else to say.
His laugh surprises me. ‘The whole point of having a statue is so that you can bring her to life.’
He lifts me up and sets me back on my plinth. I sink to my knees and he arranges me in my pose, my knees apart, back arched, eyes down.
‘Now,’ he says, ‘you have both earned your submission and been rewarded. I’m going to call my guests back in and this time I expect my little statue to remain a statue. For them anyway. I’m sure she’s learned now the proper time to awaken.’
I have. I nod my understanding meekly. It’s the last time I will move until we’re alone again.
I’m tingling in all the places where the crop has kissed me and I imagine my skin is red and marked from the little leather tongue. It will be no secret to the others what has happened, what’s been done to me. I also imagine I now radiate a glow of ecstasy, an invitation, a challenge. Let them try and distract me, to make me react. I will come to life again, but only my master will see it.
Penance for the Perverse (#ulink_4ed31edd-d594-51ba-9011-e0cda0e4a44b)
Heather Towne (#ulink_4ed31edd-d594-51ba-9011-e0cda0e4a44b)
Joe and Mary fell in love almost as soon as Mary arrived in Joe’s small hometown. She had lived in a large city on the west coast, and was now seeking a simpler, more spiritual life in the rolling hills of northern Idaho. Joe was thirty-two and lonely, a respected teacher at the local elementary school and parishioner in the Pine Hills Baptist Church. Mary was thirty-five and longing for a good man and a good life. They were married in Joe’s church two months after first meeting.
Mary was a lapsed Catholic. Now, she embraced Joe’s religion, born-again into Christianity. Joe couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found such a loving, beautiful wife to share his faith and life with, raise a family. He was a tall man, with thinning black hair and a pale, chiselled face, bright-blue eyes and full red lips, a wiry physique. Mary was petite, pretty, with wavy chestnut-brown hair and large violet eyes, an oval face and plush pincushion lips, large breasts and ample buttocks, tawny skin.
It was a month after their nuptials, as they sat in front of the fireplace after Sunday dinner, that Mary said to her husband, ‘Joe, I have a confession to make.’ She looked down at her delicate hands in her lap, her voluptuous body clad in a simple black dress.
Joe glanced up from the textbook he’d been studying. He smiled, his handsome face beaming contentedly. ‘Confession? Why, what do you mean, Mary?’
Mary sighed. ‘Well, in my old church, we used to confess our sins every Sunday – to, well, cleanse our souls, so to speak. Confess any sinful things we’d done or any sinful thoughts we’d had during the week. Then take penance for it. But in your – I mean, our – church, there’s no such thing as a confessional.’ She licked her lips, batted her long, dark eyelashes at her husband. ‘So, I’d like to confess something to you, Joe, have you punish me with any penance you see fit.’
Joe set the textbook aside and patted his lap. ‘I doubt if I could ever punish you, Mary.’
Mary rose and walked over to him, sat down in her husband’s lap. Her lush buttocks spread warm and soft against the crotch of his Sunday suit pants, her shapely legs dangling over his. She coiled an arm around his neck, and he gripped her waist.
‘Go ahead, dear,’ Joe said. ‘If you want to.’
Mary nodded, gazing into her husband’s loving eyes. ‘Well, when Reverend Okoye was giving his sermon this morning …’
Joe squeezed his wife’s waist and placed a warm, gentle hand on her left thigh, smiling beatifically up at her.
‘… I imagined myself sucking his cock,’ Mary stated.
Joe’s hands froze on his wife’s body. He stared at her.
‘He’s such a fine-looking man, you know. I realise he’s married, like we are, but I just couldn’t help thinking about going down on my knees in front of him, as he gave his sermon, and pulling his long hard black cock out of his vestments and swirling my tongue all around his bulbous purple hood, teasing some pre-come out of his gaping slit and slurping it up. Then painting his pipe with my tongue, licking all up and down his swollen shaft, making it shine and throb. Before sliding my lips right over his cockhead and down his shaft, consuming his prick right to the blue-black balls. Then gripping his hips and bobbing my head back and forth, sucking tight and wet and deep on his huge, heavy dong.’
Mary’s fingers bit into Joe’s neck, and she squirmed in his lap, her eyes shining and lips moist, breath bathing her husband’s shocked face in warm, humid air. He gaped at her, sitting rigid, hands clutching her waist and leg.
Mary went on, ‘I sucked his cock for a good long time – up on the stage, with the whole congregation watching – until I tasted more hot, salty pre-come, leaking down my throat. Then I pulled his cock out of my mouth and hooked my finger and thumb around the dripping shaft, just below the swelled hood, cutting off his flow of semen. I pushed his prick up and my head down and kissed his big, hanging balls, licked at his sac, batted his nuts around with my tongue. He just grunted and went on with his sermon, so I swallowed his entire pouch in my mouth and pulled on it, looking up at him from around his pulsating ebony dong.’
Joe gulped, croaked, ‘You–you were thinking all this … when …’
Mary smiled and kissed her husband on his trembling lips, rubbing her butt cheeks against the hardening length of cock she could feel under her bum. Her pussy was warm and sticky with moisture, her nipples thick and buzzing against her dress.
‘I know it’s wrong, honey. That’s why I’m telling you. While I was sucking on the minister’s balls, pumping his cock with my hand, all the parishioners were staring at me, watching me commit oral sex on the reverend. But no one tried to stop me; they were all as turned-on as I was. I teabagged Reverend Okoye for a long time, thoroughly sucking his sac, breathing deep of his musky, masculine scent. Even with his balls bulging my mouth, I slid my tongue out and licked at his perineum. That’s when he spasmed and pulled back, forcing me to spit out his nuts. He lifted me up to my feet and led me over to the altar table, his jutting cock and hung balls shining with my saliva. I was already totally naked, so he just laid me out on my back on the table and gripped his gleaming staff and –’
‘Mary! That’s enough! How–how could you?’
Mary nodded, her eyes sparkling. ‘I know. It’s sinful, isn’t it, Joe? That’s why I had to tell you. That’s why I need penance – have to be punished by you, my husband.’
She undulated her bum against Joe’s stiffened cock some more, then swung out of his tented lap, draped herself over his shaking knees. She pulled the skirt of her conservative dress up, exposing her big bare bottom. She shuddered the twin caramel mounds of her buoyant butt cheeks, looking up at her husband. ‘Whatever punishment you think is appropriate, Joe.’
He stared down at his wife’s humped, boisterous bottom, his face and body burning with heat. He tore his right hand off the armrest of the chair and lifted it into the air.
Mary quivered, her body shimmering with anticipation. ‘Reverend Okoye plunged his cockhead into my pussy, ploughed his shaft into my tunnel. Oh, Joe, I was so full of his cock that my head spun, my cunt stretched like it’s never been –’
Crack! Joe struck his wife’s ass with his hand.
She jumped, gasped. Her soft, sensitive back-mounds shivered wickedly, the imprint of her husband’s bladed hand flaming red on the honey-coloured flesh for a moment.
‘He pulled my legs up to his chest, his dong buried inside of me. But he kept right on sermonising, Joe, as he pumped his hips, churning his cock back and forth in my pussy. The congregation watched and listened with rapt attention. I grasped my splayed breasts and squeezed and –’
Crack! Joe slammed his hand down onto Mary’s bum a second time. She jumped again, gasped again, her breasts and buttocks and body rippling.
‘And I pushed my tits right up to my mouth and sucked on my own nipples, getting banged back and forth on the altar table by the pumping force of Reverend Okoye’s cock. He was so big and powerful –’
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Joe flat-out spanked his wife, smashing his hand down on her buttocks again and again and again. His body shivered with the force of the blows like hers did, Mary’s butt cheeks burning red under his whaling hand, gyrating wildly as his and her feelings.
‘He kept fucking and fucking me, pounding into my pussy. I knew he wouldn’t come until the end of his sermon, he had so much stamina. But I was sure I couldn’t hold out, his sawing pleasure sending me sailing.’
Joe’s hand whistled up and down, striking fast and furious, the crack of hardened flesh against soft skin sounding loud and clear and lewd in the hushed, homey living room. Mary could feel her husband’s cock beating against her belly, as he beat her bottom. She surged joyously with each smashing blow, her pussy staining Joe’s pants with hot, leaking juices.
‘I could hardly bear it, Joe! He was reaming my pussy, stretching and stuffing me. I rolled my head around on the table, kneading my tits, pulling on my nipples, the joy building and building inside of me, his cock pumping me full of wild passion. Until …’
Joe slammed his wife’s ass over and over, lifting and crashing faster and faster, brutally hard. His arm ached and his palm burned, his face flaming hot as Mary’s bum cheeks, his cock surging against her rocking body. He had to punish her. She needed it, demanded it, deserved it. He thrilled with it, like her.
The living room was filled with the vicious cracking of Joe’s hand on Mary’s ass, Joe’s laboured breathing, Mary’s gasps and groans. The frenzy built to towering heights, sweat pouring down Joe’s face. Mary’s bum throbbed, almost brick-red under the onslaught.
Joe whacked Mary’s blazing bottom one final time, then bucked up against her. She felt his warm, wet spurts against her stomach, his spasming cock spouting out orgasm. She reached up and grabbed on to his spank-hot hand and jammed it down sideways in between her legs, pumped his rigid fingers against her sopping wet pussy.
‘He exploded inside of me, blasting me with burst after burst of fiery heat as he concluded his sermon! Finally allowing me blessed release!’ Mary jerked, orgasm erupting in her pussy alongside Joe’s scrubbing fingers and storming through her body in superheated waves. ‘And all the male parishioners got up and swarmed all around me and jerked off over my writhing body, coating my face and tits in their sticky rapture!’
Mary’s head flopped down, and her body went limp over her husband’s quivering knees. He stared blankly down at her battered bottom, his fingers still pressed up against her simmering pussy, his crotch drenched with semen.
Joe and Mary murmured, ‘Amen!’ together.
* * *
Mary’s next confession came less than a week later, after she and Joe had attended a wedding at their church. Joe was making a fire in the living-room fireplace of their rustic bungalow on the wooded edge of their small town, while Mary sat in her chair knitting.
‘Karen looked beautiful in her wedding dress, didn’t she, Joe?’ Mary commented.
Joe lit a kitchen match, applied the flame to shredded newspaper at the base of the three logs he’d stacked up. ‘Yes,’ he responded, ‘she did.’ He turned his head and gazed at his wife. ‘But you looked even more –’
‘I have a confession to make, Joe,’ Mary stated, setting her knitting down.
The wooden match fell out of Joe’s suddenly stiffened fingers, sparking a small blaze on the carpet that he quickly stomped out. He stared at his wife.
She smiled, sitting upright in her chair in the long-skirted blue dress she’d worn to the wedding. Her auburn hair was still done up, coils dangling down, her pretty face dusted with make-up, lips glistening red. Joe was still wearing his good white shirt and striped tie, his black suit pants, the shine on his black dress shoes reflecting the growing flames in the fireplace.
‘Mary, I don’t know if –’
‘I imagined I was up there with Karen and her lovely bridesmaids, and Karen and I were kissing, as everybody watched. Her tongue darted into my mouth, wet and eager, and we swirled our tongues together, right in front of the minister. I ran my fingers through her long, silky blonde hair, and she ran her hands down my back and onto my bum cheeks, our tongues dancing out in the open for all to see. Then I painted her soft wet lips with my tongue, then bit into her long silken neck, our large breasts squishing together, she in her white lace wedding dress and me in a body-hugging black tuxedo.’
Joe swallowed, hard. He barely felt the heat from the crackling fire; it was the heat of his wife’s words that was making him burn. There was a growing bulge in between his legs, swelling out the front of his pants.
‘We sucked on each other’s tongues for a moment, and then I pushed Karen’s wedding dress right off her buff shoulders, and it fell down to her waist, exposing her round breasts. I cupped her creamy-white tits, feeling their warmth and weight, revelling in their smoothness. Then I kissed my way down Karen’s chest to her breasts, licked in between them. The bridesmaids gathered around us, Lindsay, Alisha and Amy. I felt their hands on my back and my butt, caressing me, their fingers running through my hair. But I kept on squeezing Karen’s breasts, licking all over the swollen mounds, twirling my tongue right around her engorging nipples, stretching them up higher and harder with my tongue.’
Joe reached down and gripped the poker, lifted it. But then he looked down at the lethal iron instrument, and dropped it. There was a yardstick leaning against the side of his chair. He’d brought it home from school for some sketches he was making of a possible addition to their house – a nursery. He walked over, picked up the three-foot-long wooden ruler and lightly smacked it against the palm of his left hand. His erection tented out his pants.
‘I sucked on Karen’s breasts, clutching them up and nursing on them, taking the stiff, rubbery tips into my mouth and pulling on them with my lips, bobbing my head back and forth between her luscious breasts and succulent nipples. Karen grabbed on to my head, moaning, arching her chest into my mouth. Until I kissed and licked my way down to her stomach, leaving her nipples all shiny, her breasts heaving up and down. I pulled her wedding dress with me as I went down, so that when I reached her bellybutton, squirmed the tip of my tongue inside, her dress had dropped right down to her feet, and her beautiful blonde pussy was right in front of me. She was as wet as I was, Joe.’
Mary stood up and shed her own dress, stepped out of it and walked over to her husband in her sensible black heels, her body starkly naked. Her breasts shuddered and her buttocks swished, hips swaying, her pussy winking with moisture. Joe took her hand and positioned her in front of the fireplace. She gripped the stone mantle and spread her legs back, pushed her butt out, the orange flames making her heated body glow.
‘I slid my hands down onto her bum and dug my fingernails into the thick, round flesh, dug my tongue in between Karen’s long legs and licked her juicy pussy.’
Joe loosened his pants and shoved them down over his cock. He stood to the side, yardstick and cock raised, both wooden instruments twitching, straining to be used.
‘She was so wet and tangy. I dragged my tongue over her pussy again and again, her fur and her lips, lapping at the woman’s cunt.’
Whack! The long hard ruler cracked across Mary’s buttocks.
She jumped, fingernails scraping stone. She arched her back and her bum. ‘I stuck my tongue right inside her, Joe, eating out her hot pussy. I shot my hands up onto her breasts and squeezed them some more, rolling her nipples, as I writhed my tongue around inside her velvety pink tunnel.’
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Joe’s cock jumped along with Mary’s body, pearls of pre-come flipping out of his slit, as he slashed her bottom with the yardstick. Both husband and wife burned in the heat of the fire, of their passion, white streaks flashing across Mary’s buttocks where the ruler struck, then smouldering red, striping her brazen brown bottom.
‘But just before Karen came in my mouth, on the end of my tongue, her bridesmaids lifted me up and stretched me out on the altar table. They were all as naked as Karen and I. They fondled me, kissed me, their hands all over me – then their mouths. Alisha and Lindsay sucked on my breasts, while Amy sucked on my tongue. And then Karen climbed up onto the table with me. She straddled my head with her knees, looking down at me from over her tits in her hands, her wedding veil still on. She stuck her sodden cunt right in my face and I grabbed on to her bum and licked as hard as I could. Lindsay and Alisha gripped and squeezed my tits and sucked on my jutting nipples, Amy now licking the length of my brimming slit.’
Joe slammed the ruler against his wife’s ass in a frenzy, flailing her butt with the only slightly flexible wood. Mary rocked forward, almost right into the fire, her thrust-back, blazing buttocks gyrating wildly.
Joe gasped for air, his arm sore, his cock throbbing. But still he blasted blow after blow into Mary’s bottom, welting her cheeks with ridges. Until, suddenly, the yardstick snapped across his wife’s shuddering butt, breaking in two.
‘Oh, Joe!’ Mary cried, sticking her blistered bum even further out and up, begging for more. ‘Things got even wilder, more depraved. Because, suddenly, Amy and Alisha were wearing strap-ons – long black dildos strapped to their hips and bottoms, just like men’s cocks, only bigger. And I was on top of Amy up on the altar table, stretched out on my back on top of her hot tits and body, Alisha kneeling in between my spread legs. Amy played the bloated tip of her dildo around my bum pucker, while Alisha dragged her cockhead over my pussy lips. They were going to double-penetrate me, Joe, as I sucked on Karen’s pussy.’
Joe threw the splintered foot and a half of yardstick away, desperately looked around the living room.
‘Your belt, Joe!’ his wife urged. ‘Use your belt!’
Joe dived down and ripped the wide black leather belt out of the loops of his fallen pants, rose back up. He gripped the buckle, folded the leather length back once, then raised the tanning instrument, glaring at Mary’s brazen ass, his cock straining.
‘Amy plunged her dong into my ass, and Alisha speared hers into my pussy. I almost burst with feeling, with passion – a huge black dildo stuffing my bum, another one stuffing my pussy. I slurped wildly on Karen’s slit, Amy pumping my chute, Alisha my cunt.’
Joe cracked the belt across Mary’s buttocks, whipping the woman. She shrieked, jolted shuddering onto her toes, her bum cheeks seared with the white stripe laid down by the black leather. Joe slashed her again, and again, and again, the belt streaking through the air, striking Mary’s bottom with flailing impact, shattering husband and wife.
‘Amy fucked me up the ass, Alisha fucked my pussy, the girls pumped full-length into my burning holes with their tremendous dongs. Meanwhile Lindsay sucked on my nipples and squeezed my boobs. And I hung onto Karen’s rippling bum cheeks and lapped her dripping cunt like a madwoman. I could hardly comprehend what was happening, what I was feeling, my emotions so wickedly wanton.’
Joe lashed Mary with his belt, blasting red and white stripes all over her ass, raising welts of stung, steaming flesh and then crushing them flat again. He was covered in sweat, gasping for breath, his cock jumping with every flogging blow, pre-come still flinging out of his slit. It went on and on and on, Mary’s fingernails breaking on the stone mantle, body bouncing brutally to the savage song of the improvised whip.
Until, finally, Joe threw the heated belt aside and crowded right in behind his quivering wife. He plunged his cock into her molten pussy.
Mary moaned, gasped, ‘Everybody in the church was watching us. Karen screamed, pulling on her nipples, her bum cheeks quivering in my hands, her pussy drenching my face. I lapped her slit, drinking in all I could, giving the gushing bride the best wedding gift of all. And then I was gifted with joy, too.’
Joe grabbed on to Mary’s breasts, slamming his cock back and forth in her pussy. He thumped against his wife’s blistered buttocks, pounding in the pleasure pussy and bum, plumbing the depths of both their sexualities with his cock.
‘Amy and Alisha frantically plugged my anus and pussy, Lindsay biting into my nipples, almost tearing them off. I was sent heavenward. Oh, Joe! I came so hard and so –’
She spasmed, jumping in her husband’s arms, on the end of his wildly churning cock. He jerked with his own searing orgasm, jetting inside her. The pair shuddered and squirted in front of the roaring blaze, joined in holy brimstone ecstasy of pussy and cock.
* * *
As a born-again Christian, Mary was only too glad to confess her sins. As a former adult actress with over 200 pornos under her belt, she had committed many such sins. Getting fucked by a minister in front of his flock with a follow-up group facial; lezzing it up with a bride and her bridesmaids in front of their wedding guests; these were but two of the scorching scenarios she had participated in on film.
She had only to wait for her bum to partially heal, before she’d ‘confess’ more such ‘fantasies’ to her righteously loving husband. So he could dish out her penance of perverse punishment, the pleasure of which they would both share in.
Transformation (#ulink_ef3cf2f4-ccb3-5019-af59-c4e7cfee776d)
Poppy St Vincent (#ulink_ef3cf2f4-ccb3-5019-af59-c4e7cfee776d)
She looked at herself in the steamy bathroom mirror. Naked, she screwed up her eyes and surveyed the image. Turning left and right she looked at her tummy and her bottom and sighed. She saw curves everywhere.
‘Can that ever be a good thing?’ she wondered out loud.
Turning her face to the left and the right she pinned her hair up, trying to see beyond her own perceptions, how another would see her.
The bath was hot. She eased slowly in, the heat reminding her of ofuro, the Japanese baths of a lifetime ago. Indeed she sat for some minutes with the gentle formality of a Japanese lady before she gave up and eased back and down into the water.
The water was soft pink and petals rested on the smooth surface. She skimmed a finger to push the petals, to form a queue, she thought. She wanted to see order in the chaos. Breathing in the scent of jasmine and clary sage she allowed herself to relax and reflect.
* * *
The day started out so well. The scent of autumn cutting through the frayed ends of summer met her as she left the house for work. She wore a scarf and a light jumper, a combination that pleased her. It reminded her of childhood walks and crunchy leaves, of firelight, laughter and burnished reds and golds. She was doused in optimism until she looked in her post box and read the printing on the outside of a letter. A slow nausea crept over her as she slipped a finger along the crease and opened the envelope.
It was a fine notice – a fine of hundreds of pounds for not renewing her car tax, which she had had the money to pay but had not. What made her flood with guilt was that she had sworn to him, with wide and believable eyes, that she had paid it. She had even persuaded herself that she had done so. It had just been one of those dull little jobs that she did not want to do; spending money on a stupid piece of paper seemed such a waste. She had ignored it at first and then lied to make herself seem more efficient and then, when she remembered it in the dead of night, she just hoped somehow that she could ignore it and be let off.
When she was a child her father used to lend her money all the time and not once had she to repay it. It seemed so unfair to have to learn now that the world was not her benevolent father. Therein lay the problem, and it had led to this horrid, officious, formal telling-off, with barbs on.
She knew the issue would not be the money. If she needed that amount for something there would be no problem. The problem was the needless expense and the twenty-something different lies she had told to cover it up. Just moments before, she had felt so good, so on top of it all, but the letter made her feel fed up and useless. She felt stupid and that was so much worse than being in trouble.
