by Ray Gordon
'So, if he contacts them, they'll deny all knowledge... Yes, that sounds good. OK, I'll get going.'
'Good luck, Sam.'
'Thanks. I'll see you later. I hope. And don't answer the bloody phone.'
'OK, I promise.'
Walking back to the park, Samantha realized that she was going to have to shut this man up once and for all. Phoning a second time and talking to Anne... She wasn't going to stand for it, she decided. He could do what the hell he liked. Contact the girl's parents, go to the police... The man would look a fool if he told people that Samantha was Anne Wilkinson. If she was questioned, she would just laugh and prove her identity.
Lurking behind a clump of bushes, she thought it odd that Rob was due to arrive at the same time as the blackmailer. Wondering why Anne had been ordered to go alone to the park, she kept her eye on the bench from her hiding place. There was no way the blackmailer would believe that Samantha was Anne, she was sure. Shaking her head and sighing, she felt despondent as she watched a distant figure growing larger. It was a middle-aged man, she observed, as he approached the bench. Was this her man?
Gazing at Rob as he sat on the bench, Samantha tried not to put two and two together. Rob and the blackmailer weren't one and the same, were they? If it had been Rob who'd phoned and spoken to Anne, he might have had it in mind to threaten her. Anne hadn't met him, so she'd be none the wiser. Perhaps he wanted to screw the girl, Samantha thought. If he said that he knew her true identity and he'd keep quiet in return for sex... but then, Rob would hardly order Anne to meet him by the bench at the same time he'd arranged to meet Samantha.
After fifteen minutes, Samantha realized that the blackmailer wasn't going to turn up. Unless he, too, was lurking somewhere. Perhaps he'd seen Rob, thought that Anne wasn't going to turn up and... This was a bloody mess, Samantha reflected, wondering what the hell she was doing hiding in the bushes like a thief in the night. Watching as Rob finally wandered across the park and disappeared from view, she emerged from the bushes and sat on the bench. If her man was still there he'd show himself now, she was sure. Slipping her hand between her thighs as she watched from the bushes, she pressed her fingertips into the warm swelling of her tight panties. Feeling incredibly aroused, she slipped a finger beneath her panties and caressed her protruding inner lips. She desperately needed to come, she knew as her clitoris swelled, her juices of desire oozing from her tight sex hole. Unable to help herself, she lay on the ground and slipped her panties down her long legs.
'God, I'm wet,' she murmured, slipping a finger into the hot, creamy sheath of her drenched vagina. Looking up at the trees wavering high above her, the sun sparkling through the foliage, she massaged her inner flesh and breathed heavily in her self-loving. Time travel, blackmail... She had to move on, get away from her problems, she knew, as she slipped her wet finger out of her vagina and massaged the solid nub of her ripe clitoris. Apart from the paint factory story, she'd done nothing for the newspaper.
Feeling that her life was going nowhere, Samantha tried not to think about the vicar as images of his office loomed in her mind. Concentrating on the newspaper as she massaged her clitoris, she thought about the new photographer. She'd not met Brian yet, she mused. But before long she would not only meet him but would allow him to take photographs of her naked body, the gaping valley of her pussy. The vicar had taken photographs of her legs, her tight panties...
'Lift your dress up and bend over my desk,' the vicar said sternly.
'But... Please, I...' Samantha stammered, looking down at her Sunday dress.
'Do as I tell you, Samantha,' he snapped. 'Unless you want me to tell your parents that I caught you stealing money from the collection tray.'
'I wasn't stealing it,' she whimpered, her tear-filled eyes looking up at him. 'You told me to take the money out of the tray and put it in the—'
'You were stealing it, Samantha. Where have you put the five-pound note that was in the tray?'
'There wasn't a—'
'Stealing, lying... Lift your dress up and bend over my desk.'
Samantha remembered this well. The vicar had tricked her, had told her to empty the tray and place the money on his desk and had then accused her of stealing. Her parents knew that she wasn't a thief, but an accusation of stealing coming from the respected vicar... He was a clever man, she reflected, as he again ordered her to lift her dress up over her back and bend over his desk. Clever - and extremely evil.
'I'm going to spank you,' he announced as she leaned over the desk. She had no idea how old she was as his fingers ran over the tight material of her pink panties clinging to the rounded cheeks of her bottom. She remembered the episode, the accusation, but she couldn't recall how old she'd been at the time. This had happened after the priest had begun his photo sessions, she was sure. He'd already promised her that she'd be a model one day and his photographs were the start of a successful career.
'Where is the five-pound note?' he asked again, slapping the firm flesh of her tensed buttocks.
'I haven't taken any money,' she whimpered, her hands clinging to the far edge of the desk as she rested her face on the polished wood.
'Are there any pockets in your dress?'
'No. I haven't got any pockets - or a bag or anything.'
'Then you must have hidden the money in your clothing,' he murmured, yanking the back of her panties down.
'I haven't hidden—'
'What's this?' he asked, holding up a five-pound note. 'What was this doing in your panties, Samantha?'
'I... I didn't put it there. I promise, I...'
'That's evidence enough for me. And, no doubt, for your parents.'
Yanking her panties down to her ankles, the vicar ordered Samantha to step out of the garment and then spread her feet wide. Complying, she couldn't understand how the money had come to be hidden in her panties. She hadn't recalled seeing a note in the tray. There were coins, but no notes. Naive, innocent, trusting... Had she known then what she knew now... But now she did know, of course. Trembling as the vicar's fingertip ran up and down the tightly closed crevice of her buttocks, she was dreading what he had in mind as she listened to his heavy breathing.
'I'm going to spank you, Samantha,' the cleric said, clutching the warm globes of her naked buttocks in his hand. 'I don't want to have to do this but... It's either a spanking, or I go to your parents. What's it to be?'
'I... I didn't steal the money,' she sobbed.
'I found it in your panties, girl. What else do you hide in your panties?'
'Nothing.'
'I don't believe you. You put your hand down the front of your panties, don't you?'
'No, honestly...'
'I've seen you, Samantha. I've seen you during church. You sit at the back and slip your hand down the front of your panties.'
'No, I never do that.'
'Why do you insist on lying, girl? What would your mother say if she discovered that you not only steal money from the collection tray but that you put your hand down the front of your panties? Spread your feet further, as wide as you can. I'm sure you'd rather have a spanking than have to face your parents.'
The palm of the priest's hand slapping the taut flesh of her rounded bottom, Samantha's body jolted as she clung to the desk. Her buttocks stinging as he repeatedly brought his hand down across her naked bottom, she felt her fresh vaginal milk oozing between the firm lips of her pussy. The spanking wasn't severe, but it was still hard enough to redden her buttocks, the stinging sensations numbing her tensed flesh as she gripped the far side of the desk. Again and again the vicar brought his hand down, swiping each globe in turn as her whimpers resounded around the small office.
Although she was enjoying the experience, Samantha wondered again why she'd been taken back in time. Was this, she asked herself, purely as a result of her subconscious thoughts? Her vaginal juices trickled down her inner thighs as her arousal heightened. She'd often fantasized about spanking, she reflected. During her masturbatio
n sessions, she'd frequently imagined a man spanking her naked bottom, reddening her bare flesh. Her schoolteacher, her father, even the man in the local shop...
Wondering what the vicar was up to as he halted the punishment, Samantha smiled as she felt his fingers sliding down the gully of her bottom, venturing dangerously close to the fleshy lips of her vulva nestling between her naked thighs.
'I think that's enough,' the cleric said shakily, his fingertip pressing into the moist divide of her outer labia. 'No, don't get up,' he said as Samantha lifted her head off the desk. 'I haven't finished with you yet.'
'But you said...'
'Don't worry, I'm not going to spank you again. Move forward across the desk, Samantha. Lift your feet off the floor and move forward so that your head is over the far side of the desk.'
Following his command, Samantha slid forward until her head was hanging over the edge of the desk. Her legs wide apart, her bared vulval lips fully exposed beneath the tight ring of her bottom-hole, she heard the vicar pull a chair up and sit between her splayed thighs. He'd have a perfect view of the most intimate part of her body, she knew as he moved her legs even further apart. His fingertip running up each milk-wet inner thigh in turn, tantalizing her sensitive flesh, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on the firm mounds of her rounded buttocks.
'You're a lovely girl, Samantha,' he breathed, his lips brushing against the tensed flesh of her naked buttocks, his breath warming her there. 'Now, are you going to admit that you put your hand down the front of your panties?' he asked.
'Yes,' she breathed, knowing what he wanted to hear.
'I thought as much. Tell me, do you rub yourself between your legs?'
'Yes, yes I do,' she murmured, her juices flowing from her tightly closed sex hole.
'Do you look at yourself there? I mean, when you're in the bath, do you look inside your crack?'
'I have done,' she confessed. 'I have looked inside my crack.'
'I'm going to look inside your crack, Samantha,' he breathed, parting the fleshy cushions of her vaginal lips.
Quivering as she felt the priest's fingertip circling the pink funnel of flesh surrounding her virginal pussy hole, Samantha could feel her sex-milk lubricating his illicit massaging. This was the only aspect of time travelling that she enjoyed, she reflected. Returning to the nineteenth-century pub had been of no value, and certainly hadn't been fun. Flitting forward in time to the dancing school had been interesting. But her visits to the church, to the vicar's office - those were what had really excited her. She'd do this again, she decided. Whatever happened with Anne, whatever the next ten years held... She'd slip back in time to the vicar's office and enjoy his illicit attention.
'Have you ever pushed your finger in there?' the man of God asked, the tip of his finger slipping between the petals of her inner lips.
'Yes, I have,' Samantha gasped, trying to conceal her arousal as her body trembled.
'You like me doing this to you, don't you?'
'I... I don't know,' she replied, raising her buttocks and swivelling her hips in the hope that he'd massage the solid bud of her ripening clitoris.
'I'll slip my finger inside you,' he said. 'Just relax and I'll make you feel good.'
His finger gliding deep into the tight duct of her vagina, the cleric massaged her inner flesh as Samantha did her best not to writhe on the desk. He was gazing at the naked hillocks of her outer lips stretched tautly around his intruding finger, she knew as he bent and twisted that finger, sending quivers through her pelvis. Kissing her rounded buttocks again, his lips moving to her anal gully, he pushed his tongue out. Trembling uncontrollably, Samantha breathed deeply as she felt the wet tip of his tongue slip between the rise of her crimsoned buttocks, seeking out the tight brown hole of her anus.
His tongue teasing the delicate flesh of her bottom-hole, the vicar parted her naked buttocks with his free hand as he continued to massage the inner flesh of her vaginal sheath. The sensations were heavenly, Samantha mused as she relaxed completely. Hoping that he'd push his tongue deep into her rectum, she couldn't stop herself from gasping and writhing as he tasted her anal ring. His tongue repeatedly sweeping over her brown hole, he parted her firm buttocks further. The secret portal to her anal canal opening wide, he drove his wet tongue into her dank tube and licked the inner walls of her sheath of illicit pleasure.
Drowning in the exquisite sensations of forbidden pleasure as the vicar tongued her rectal sheath and fingered the tight duct of her virgin cunt, Samantha grimaced as he forced her firm buttocks further apart and fully opened her brown hole to his darting tongue. She'd enjoyed the spanking, she reflected, as he licked inside her rectal tube, savouring the bittersweet taste of her bottom. And she was enjoying his most intimate attention to her anal canal. She'd definitely visit the cleric again, she decided, as he slipped a second finger deep into the rhythmically contracting sheath of her virgin cunt.
'Do you like me licking your bottom?' he asked her, his fingers gliding in and out of her sex-drenched vagina.
'Yes, I think so,' she murmured, her eyes rolling as her clitoris swelled.
'When you rub yourself, rub between your lips, do you... do you reach the point where you shudder?'
'Yes, every time I rub myself there,' she replied.
'Where do you rub, exactly?'
'There's a hard spot just at the top of my crack. That's where I rub.'
'And you'd like me to rub your hard spot?'
'I think so.'
His fingers sliding out of Samantha's juice-flooded vaginal canal, the priest moved up the valley of her vulva and massaged the sensitive tip of her exposed clitoris. Her creamy juices lubricating the illicit masturbation, he rubbed her pleasure spot faster as she whimpered and squirmed in the grip of her soaring arousal. He wouldn't stop here, she knew as his tongue entered the dank sheath of her rectum again. He'd push his huge cock into her tight pink pussy and fuck her, she was sure.
His tongue snaking deep inside her rectum, his fingertip massaging the painfully hard protuberance of her ripe clitoris, the vicar locked his lips to her anus and sucked hard. Lost in her sexual delirium, Samantha felt her womb contracting, her clitoris pulsating in the onset of her forbidden coming as the man of God licked her rectal duct and increased the pace of his clitoris-masturbating rhythm. This was sheer sexual bliss, she mused as her breasts pressed hard against the desk. The vicar might have been evil, but he certainly knew how to pleasure a girl.
Bending her knees, her calves pressing against the backs of her thighs, Samantha reached behind her back and grabbed her ankles. Pulling her feet up to meet the back of her head, her spine curving as the sexual centre of her body gaped wide open, she knew that the vicar's arousal would rocket. Managing to pull her feet either side of her head, she shuddered as her clitoris swelled and erupted in orgasm when the man slipped his wet tongue out of her tight bottom-hole and drove a finger deep into her rectal sheath.
Crying out as her climax rocked her, Samantha listened to the squelching of her vaginal juices as the man drove at least two fingers into the tight sheath of her virgin cunt. Her orgasm peaking, her body shaking violently, she parted her thighs as far as she could to allow her abuser deeper access to her sex holes. Sucking hard on her rectal inlet again, his tongue darting in and out of her arse, he continued his clitoris massaging and vaginal fingering. Again and again shockwaves of pure sexual bliss rolled through her shaking body, tightening her muscles, gripping her very soul, and she screamed with pleasure.
His fingers finally leaving the spasming tube of Samantha's vagina, his tongue sliding out of her rectal duct, the cleric lifted his cassock and pressed the solid bulb of his purple glans between the inflamed lips of her vulva. This was what he'd been longing for, Samantha knew as her clitoris was forced out from beneath its pinken bonnet when his penile shaft glided along the tight sheath of her cunt. Her inner lips dragged along his veined shaft, his bulbous knob pressing hard against the creamy ring of her cervix, h
e completely impaled her on his huge cock.
'No,' she cried. 'You... you shouldn't be doing this.' Ignoring her protest, his arousal taking control, he forced his finger deep into her anal canal and massaged the restricted duct. Samantha could hardly believe the incredible sensations coursing through her as he withdrew his solid cock and again drove his purple crown deep into the wet heat of her once-virgin cunt. He was going to spunk her pussy, she knew, as his swinging balls battered the naked flesh of her mons and he crudely finger-fucked her tight arse.
His finger leaving her rectum, his cock sliding out of her inflamed cunt, the vicar pressed the bulbous globe of his glans hard against Samantha's saliva-wet anal ring. Again ignoring her perfunctory cries of protest, he drove his knob deep into the tight shaft of her rectum until his knob absorbed the fiery heat of her bowels and his heaving balls pressed hard against her sex-dripping vaginal lips. Feeling as if her pelvic cavity had bloated to capacity, she shuddered as he grabbed her feet and parted her legs wide. Clinging to the edge of the desk, she felt his massive tool withdrawing, her anal ring dragging along his veined shaft until the delicate tissue hugged the rim of his helmet.
'Please,' Samantha gasped as the man of God's penile length drove forcefully back into her inflamed anal canal, the dilated sphincter of her anus gripping the root of his monster cock as he again impaled her completely. Withdrawing once more, his slimed cock gliding slowly out of her fiery rectum, he held her feet high in the air and rammed his glans deep into her bowels. Increasing his anal fucking rhythm, he repeatedly drove his bulbous cockhead deep into the very core of her as she clung to the desk to steady herself.
'Tight-arsed little slut,' the vicar breathed, his hips swinging back and forth as he anal-fucked Samantha. Obviously losing control, he gasped his crude expletives as he held her feet high in the air and repeatedly propelled his knob-plum deep into the burning core of her bowels. His full balls bouncing, his slimed shaft gliding in and out of her inflamed rectum, he was about to reach the climax of his illicit act, Samantha knew, as she clung to the desk in sheer desperation.