by Ray Gordon
DEPRAVICUS - THE SEQUEL
by
RAY GORDON
Depravicus - The Sequel first published in 1996 by Hodder & Stoughton. Published as an eBook in 2013 by Chimera eBooks.
ISBN 9781780802961
www.chimerabooks.co.uk
Chimera (ki-mir'a, ki-) a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy.
New authors are always welcome, or if you’re already a published author and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would love to hear from you.
This work is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The author asserts that all characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older, and that all characters and situations are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright Ray Gordon. The right of Ray Gordon to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex.
Chapter One
Is there a fragrance on God's earth more exhilarating than the bouquet of worn knickers? The sights of nature; the magnificent waterfalls, erupting volcanoes with their majestic lava flows... Do these sights transcend a fleeting glimpse of a triangular patch of silk following the contours of the female sex lips? Are snow-capped mountain peaks more stimulating than the moist crevasse dividing the fleshy vulval lips? These are the sights which inspire man to procreate. To fuck. These are the sights, fragrances and sensations the ex-Reverend William Entercock craves. Is there a more powerful urge than the urge to fuck? Is there a man more devious than William Entercock?
His mind flooding with fond memories of naked girls, Will Entercock gazed wistfully at his cassock hanging in the wardrobe. Many times while in the confession box, he'd raised the black cloth and slipped the purple crown of his rock-hard cock into a pretty mouth. Many times in the church he'd spunked down a nun's throat, shagged the arse off the daughter of an innocent villager. He recalled a novice nun hiding beneath his cassock when the choirboy-spanking Bishop had made an untimely entrance. Taking a damn good admonishing from the boss isn't easy with a nun gobbling your throbbing glans and swallowing your sperm.
Those were the days, he thought, reflecting on his three years as priest of Cumsdale Church. Six months had passed since he'd stood in the pulpit delivering his last sermon to the villagers. Six months since he'd opened the basement bar beneath the church and sold duty-free alcohol and cigarettes. Bent MOT certificates, dodgy tax discs, cannabis plants, vibrators complete with batteries... The Sunday lunchtime sessions of heavy drinking and illicit trading had become a tradition, a way of life in the village of Cumsdale. He'd loved his time as an unorthodox clergyman. His numerous visits to the local convent school, spreadeagling girls over the altar, the run-ins with the Mother Superior...
"You all right, Will?" Josie asked as she wandered into the bedroom.
"Yes, I'm fine," he smiled. "Are you off now?"
"The taxi's here," she replied softly. "So, this is it. I'll see you in a couple of months."
"Right," he sighed pensively.
"I know you don't want me to go, Will."
"No, you go. You have no choice." What was he going to do without a cunt to lick and finger and fuck and...
"You will behave yourself while I'm away, won't you?" she asked, kissing his cheek.
"As always, Josie."
"You've got your computer to play with, so you'll be all right."
And his cock to play with. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "I shall carry on as normal in your absence, my angel of carnal lust."
"That's what worries me. I don't want to get back and find that you've been arrested for looking at dodgy porn sites." Glancing at his cassock hanging in the wardrobe, her brown eyes frowned. "You're not thinking of... You've left the priesthood, Will."
"They threw me out, Josie," he murmured. "The hypocritical cock-sucking, choirboy-shagging bastards..."
"No, they didn't. You left of your own accord. Well, almost of your own accord. You won't do anything silly while I'm away, will you?"
"Have faith, Josie. Have faith."
"I know how much you miss the priesthood, Will. But you've moved on now. The days of drinking, smoking your funny cigarettes, screwing, making money on the side; they couldn't have lasted for ever. You do want to move on, don't you?"
No, he didn't. "Yes, of course I do."
"You're thirty-two, Will. It's time you settled down. Remember what the Bishop said?"
"Yes, yes I remember," he muttered bitterly.
"You did a deal with him. You left the priesthood and, in exchange, he gave you this house, the presbytery. Don't forget that you've upset a lot of people in high places. If you're thinking of wearing your cassock again..."
"I know, Josie. I know."
"They'll be down on you like a ton of bricks. I wasn't going to mention it, but..."
"What?"
"There's a girl been hanging around in the lane."
"Really?" he grinned. "How old is she? I mean, who is she?"
"I don't know who she is. I've seen her several times over the past month or so."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I know how suspicious you are. You'd have probably said that she's working for MI5 or the KGB. It's probably nothing. Just someone staying in the village or..."
"Or a spy," he breathed, rubbing his chin. "You know that people are out to get me."
"Don't start all that nonsense again, Will. I wish I'd never mentioned it."
"I'm pleased you did. If some bird's spying on me... You know what she's after, don't you?"
"What?"
"My cock."
"You are awful," she giggled.
"And I get worse."
"All you think about is your cock."
"I have a sadly neglected cock, a pining penis, a derelict dick, a..."
"You did me three times last night, and twice this morning. I don't want you sticking your cock anywhere while I'm away."
"Me? Good grief, as if I'd stick my cock anywhere."
"We'll get married as soon as I'm back from Moscow."
"Will we? I mean... Yes, yes we will."
Carrying the girl's suitcases out to the taxi, Will waved her goodbye. Married? Marriage was all very well but why bother to go through all that palaver for the sake of a piece of paper? A certificate to certify birth, to certify insanity, to certify death, to certify cycling proficiency, swimming, life saving, health and safety at work, hygiene, wanking... Wanking? There were enough certificates floating around without adding to the list unnecessarily. Will and Josie were living together as man and wife, so why the need to prove that to anyone? But that was Josie's wish. Thy will be done. Like fuck it would.
Will Entercock's wish was to return to the days of drunken debauchery, wild sex, spunking girls' shaved pussy lips, rampant masturbation, bondage and spanking, anal intercourse, making money... Days of insane living, insane parties and sex so debauched... Talking of insanity, he mused, cringing as he noticed a middle-aged woman approaching. Slipping through the gate, he made a dash up the path to his front door. But it was too late.
"Good morning, Father," the woman called. "I'm sorry. You're not Father any more, are you? I just can't get used to it."
He had to get used to going without it for two months. "Neither can I, Mrs Baxter," Will sighed, ambling down the path towards her.
/> "I was wondering whether you'd have a word with my daughter," she said, hooking the lank rat tails of her brown hair behind her ears. "You know how I worry about her."
And he worried about her. "How is Chloe enjoying working in Spain?" he asked. "Apparently it's pretty hot over there at the moment."
"No, no, Father. I'm talking about my other daughter. I'm talking about Marianne."
"Marianne? You only have one daughter," he replied exasperatedly. "We've been through this time and time again, Mrs Baxter."
"She's eighteen now," the woman said with a pride that would have made any psychiatrist cringe.
"Eighteen?" he echoed, his dark eyes frowning. She didn't exist.
There was no point in arguing with the crazy woman. She'd told everyone that Chloe had been born in a car park, which would have been perfectly feasible had she not added that the car park was located on the shores of the neon seas of Saturn. The woman had no certificate of marriage, let alone a birth certificate for any daughter, real or imaginary. She should have a certificate of insanity, Will reflected, recalling the time she'd accused him of raping her. Watching the woman pulling her knickers out of her anal gully, he again wished he'd not bumped into her. She was a spinster, and completely and utterly mad.
"Is she really eighteen?" Will asked, rubbing his chin pensively as he tried to show some interest in her imaginary plight. "My goodness, how the years have flown. I remember when she was cock-high to a grasshopper's cock."
"I don't know where the years have gone," she sighed. "It was only last week when I was changing Marianne's nappies."
"You mean, it seems like it was only last week."
"No, it was last week. Wednesday, to be precise. Just before elevenses." She looked up and down the lane and then moved closer to Will. "She had a little accident," she whispered. "A little urinary accident."
"Really?" he said, his face grimacing. Perhaps she did come from Saturn.
"It happens from time to time," she giggled. "She drinks too much, that's the problem."
He wished he did. Those were the days.
"I'm trying to wean her off the breast, but it's not easy."
"Er... No, it can't be easy weaning an eighteen-year-old girl off the breast," Will said, humouring the woman.
"She's rather a late developer," she smiled. "It runs in the family."
"Breasts run in the family?"
"On her father's side. They're rife, you know."
"Oh, I see. Actually, I don't see. But not to worry. I wonder whether it'll rain later."
"Between you and me, she's finding womanhood difficult to come to terms with."
"If she's still in nappies and breastfeeding, then I'm not surprised. Look... I'm no longer in the priesthood, Mrs Baxter. I really don't think there's anything I can do to help."
"A problem halved in a problem shared, Father."
"Is it?"
"But, of course."
"I'd like to halve and share your problem but, seeing as the girl doesn't exist, there's nothing I can do."
"She just needs a little guidance. You see, she won't talk to me. Since her father ran off with a gay hermaphrodite, she's become a recluse. I'm sure you could get her to open up."
If she existed he'd love to open her up.
"I'd be so grateful if you'd just talk to her."
"I suppose I am pretty good at oral sessions with teenage girls. All right, if you think it'll help," he finally conceded. Anything for a quiet life. "You are talking about Chloe, aren't you?"
"No, no, Father. I'm talking about her twin sister, Marianne. She's two years younger than Chloe."
"A twin sister two years younger than her twin sister?"
"That's right. They're identical twins."
"I'm sure they are."
"I'll send her over now, if you're free."
"Yes, of course."
"He had ovary problems, that's what did it."
"Who did?"
"Her father. It affected his hormones, you know."
"Ah, yes. That would explain everything, Mrs Baxter."
This was all he needed, he knew as he watched the woman wander down the lane. Returning to his house, he closed the front door and grabbed a can of lager from the fridge. The house was quiet, empty, without Josie. Her hi-fi blasting out, her giggles, her crashing around in the kitchen... Life with Josie was great, but two months without her was going to... Was going to see a few changes, he decided. Many years ago he'd had the calling, the calling to join the priesthood. And now it had come to pass that he had the calling again. The calling to don his cassock and shag sexy girls, abuse his power and take advantage of the female villagers, grow cannabis plants and get drunk. Grabbing his cassock from the wardrobe he slipped out of his shirt and trousers and pulled the garment over his head.
"Yes," he breathed, feeling at home as the black cloth settled around his body. Tugging his boxer shorts down and kicking them across the room, he smiled as the rough cloth of his cassock brushed against his stiffening penis. His arousal rising, he knew he was going to have to make plans for sexual gratification during Josie's trip to Moscow. Wanking was all very well, but it was no substitute for the tightness of a girl's toned bottom. Swigging from his can of lager as the doorbell rang, he wandered through the hall and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He really did feel at home in the cassock. A form of cross dressing, he mused, opening the front door. He must dig out his red silk panties and have a damned good wank.
"Hello, Father," a delectable teenage blonde grinned. His prayers had been answered. "I'm Marianne, Marianne Baxter."
"But..." he stammered, eyeing her ripe nipples pressing through the tight material of her pink T-shirt. "Mrs Baxter doesn't have a daughter. I mean, she has Chloe, but..."
"She has two daughters now," the girl said, walking past him into the hall.
"Now? Oh, right," Will breathed, closing the door and following the blonde nymph into the lounge. "Your mother... Mrs Baxter was saying you're having some problems," he smiled as she perched her rounded buttocks on the edge of the sofa. "She thought I might be able to give you a hand."
"That's right," she said softly. "I believe myself to be my mother's daughter."
"And you're not her daughter."
"Yes I am."
"What?"
"That's the problem, Father. I am my mother's daughter. I am of my mother's barren womb."
"Ah, I'm with you. You're your mother's daughter, but not the daughter of Mrs Baxter."
"Mrs Baxter is my mother. You see, she hasn't got a daughter, apart from Chloe, and..."
"OK, I think we'll leave it at that," Will interrupted the girl. This took him back. "I've not seen you around the village before."
"I only came this morning."
"I see. Apparently you're still breastfeeding."
"I don't have a baby, Father," she said, her blue eyes frowning.
"No, no. You're still suckling your mother's breast."
"I'd rather not talk about breastfeeding," she sighed. "It pains me terribly."
"Yes, I suppose it would. It must be painful for your mother too."
This really did take Will Entercock back to the good old days. His cassock caressing his penile head, a teenage angel sitting on his sofa talking about breastfeeding... This was a sign from God, he knew as he eyed her slender thighs emerging invitingly from beneath her tight miniskirt. A sign to be heeded, he thought, his cock stiffening, his heavy balls rolling. But had he lost his touch? He'd remained faithful to Josie for six months. Well, almost. The girl who'd lost her way in the woods didn't count. Will had only weakened once, or twice, by licking her clitoris to orgasm and then fucking her tight pussy and spunking her ripe cervix before shafting the hot duct of her rectum. It had been a minor incident of infidelity.
"Masturbation," he smiled. He might as well go for broke.
"Pardon?" she frowned, hooking her long blonde hair behind her ears.
"Would you like to talk about mastur
bation?"
"Yes, I would," she replied enthusiastically, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "But I can't."
"Why not?"
"It disturbs me to talk about masturbation."
"Many things disturb us, Marianne," he said. "I'd say your disturbance stems from childhood. I know mine does. I blame the parents. Not that I recall having parents."
"My mother?"
"No, Mrs Baxter."
This was too much for Entercock. The temptation to rip the girl's pussy-wet knickers off and bury his face between the warm flesh of her firm thighs was... God, give me strength, he prayed. The strength and opportunity to fuck the arse off the beauty. Thoughts of Josie loomed in his racked mind as he imagined Marianne's wet panties. She'd asked him to behave himself while she was away, and he couldn't let her down. But a quick anal shag wasn't exactly misbehaving, was it?
"I'll be struck down at this rate," he murmured.
"Struck down?" the girl echoed, her sky-blue eyes gazing lustfully at Will.
"I was having nasty thoughts," he confessed. "It's a little trait of mine."
"I'm always having nasty thoughts, Father. The other night, when I was naked in my bed, I wondered what it would be like to have a dog licking my bottom-hole."
"My God," Will gasped.
"That's what I thought. I thought, my God, what an experience that would be. I then turned my thoughts to the matter in hand."
"Which was?"
"My naked body."
Will paced the floor, his penis twitching as the girl deliberately parted her thighs. Glimpsing the bulging material of her panties, he knew that he couldn't control his base male desires any longer. But there was something odd about the girl, something not quit right about the situation. Mrs Baxter didn't have a second daughter. Not unless she'd miraculously given birth to a horny teenage girl overnight. Not only would the birth be deemed miraculous, but the fact that a man had fucked the middle-aged woman wouldn't be far short of a miracle. Was this the girl Josie had seen hanging around in the lane?