Depravicus

by Ray Gordon

  "What?" Will frowned, his face grimacing. "I can't believe that."

  "It's true. He wants you out of the way because he sees you as a threat."

  "Where is he? I mean, is he in Russia or..."

  "He's here, in the village."

  "I see. I'll have to meet this Russian spy and..."

  "He goes under the name of Father Kosher."

  "Father... You lying cow-slag."

  "It got you going, didn't it?" she giggled.

  "Got me going? I'll get you going, young lady. It's ten lashes across each pert nipple for you."

  "No, please!"

  "Yes, please!"

  The strap landing across the girl's exposed nipples with a loud crack, she cried out as the pain permeated her breasts. Bringing the belt down again, Will was determined to teach her a lesson she'd never forget. What had pissed him off most of all was that he'd been taken in by her crazy story. Russian spy indeed, he mused, flailing the girl's breasts to the accompaniment of her wails of displeasure. Again and again he brought the leather belt down across her red breasts, her inflamed nipples standing proud as she hung from the rope, shuddering and contorting.

  "Levan, if that's your real name which I very much believe it is. The time has come to thrash your naked pussy," he grinned, kneeling before her. Lashing the fleshy hillocks of her hairless outer love lips he chuckled wickedly as she cried out. "Little girls don't pull the wool over my eyes and get away with it," he snapped, watching her vaginal juices streaming between her love lips and running down the naked flesh of her inner thighs.

  Her vaginal flesh crimsoning as he cunny-whipped her she again screamed out. But Will wasn't to be deterred by her pleas for mercy, or her promises of rampant oral sex should he halt the gruelling punishment. The crack of the leather belt resounding around the shack, her juices of vaginal agony pouring in torrents from her gaping sex hole, she hung limply from the rope as he finally stood up and admired his handiwork.

  "Let that be a lesson to you," he said, reaching behind his back and whipping his naked buttocks with the belt. "Mmm, that's rather nice. OK, now you'll tell me the truth."

  "I don't know anything," she sobbed.

  "Of course you know anything... I mean, something. What the fuck am I talking about?"

  "I don't know."

  "Of course you do. Right, I want to know the identity of the perpetrator behind this devious plan to deflower me."

  "Look at my titties," she cried. "And my pussy. Look what you've done to me."

  "I'll do more than that unless you... I have an idea," he sniggered. "How about leaving you here, tied up in the shack, all night?"

  "No!"

  "Poisonous snakes, monsters, bogeymen... And, of course, there's the midnight ghost train."

  "Ghost train?" she echoed fearfully.

  "Legend has it that there's a train that runs past here at midnight every night. Sometimes, it stops. The ghosts of horny young men leave the train and hunt for naked girls tied up in disused track-side shacks."

  "No, please."

  "Many a naked girl has disappeared from disused track-side shacks, never to be seen again."

  "All right, I'll tell you everything."

  Settling in an old armchair, Will massaged his erect cock as the girl began her story. She was going to be well and truly arse-fucked, he decided, gazing at the juices of her pussy seeping from her inflamed love lips. It was a shame her dark-haired friend wasn't tethered in the shack, he mused, imagining drinking the nectar from their pussies, fingering the tight ducts of their bottoms.

  "And I moved down here from Scarborough when I was younger," she continued.

  "I don't want to know about Scarborough," he snapped. "Tell me about the plan."

  "Well, the Reverend Mother asked us to trap you in Father Kosher's church. The idea was to..."

  "Yes, but is she behind the plan?"

  "No. Father Kosher is behind the plan."

  "And he's a Russian spy, I suppose?"

  "No. He used to work for the water authority. Apparently the water authority has an old score to settle with you."

  "That's true. The lying, fucking, cheating, bastard, crab-ridden... You mean to say that all this is about the bloody water..." His words tailing off as he heard a noise outside the shack, he leaped out of the armchair.

  Peering through the grime-covered window, he frowned. "Fuck it," he murmured, scraping the purple globe of his penis on the rough wooden planking as he gazed at the Bishop and the dark-haired girl wandering along the railway track towards the shack. "Keep very quiet," he whispered as the unlikely pair approached. "One word from you, and you'll find your non-lactating nipples stuffed up your arse." Holding his breath, his heart racing, he ducked as the Bishop walked up to the shack.

  "This hut has been here for over a century," he said.

  "So, the railway isn't used any more?" the girl asked.

  "No, no. There hasn't been a train along here for thirty years or more. Oh, the door seems to be locked."

  "Perhaps it's stuck."

  "Possibly. I can't believe that we've failed to nail Entercock yet again. I just don't understand how he's always one jump ahead. It was always that way when he was in the priesthood. Every time I tried to get one up on him, he..."

  "I wonder where Levan got to?" the girl sighed, kicking the shack door.

  "God only knows. At least we're getting somewhere, though. We know that Entercock has a bar in his house. We also know that he advertises soiled knick... worn underwear on his website. The legalities of that are being looked into by PC Bridlington. And, of course, there's Lana. Entercock will never guess that we've recruited her as a spy. She's our inside man... Er, woman."

  "I don't trust her, or Levan."

  "You don't trust Levan? But I thought you two were the best of friends?"

  "We are. It's just that she keeps on about Entercock, how much she likes him. She admires him."

  "Admires him? Is she mentally ill?"

  "No, she's cock-struck."

  "We'll have to watch her, then. Well, we'd better get back to the convent. No doubt Levan will turn up."

  As the Bishop and Esra walked away, Will rubbed his chin - and his damaged knob. Levan stared at him as he turned and faced her. She was obviously pleased that he'd discovered the truth, he reflected, stroking the weal-lined hillocks of her swollen vaginal cushions. He now knew that she wasn't a threat, but to think that Lana was a spy... After all he'd done for the girl, he mused. Well, he hadn't done a great deal other than employ her in the bar. And fuck her tight arse.

  "Now what?" Levan asked.

  "Now... I don't know," Will replied. "I'll have to feed Lana some disinformation."

  "Who is she?"

  "She was a waitress in the village tea shop. She now works in my bar. As a spy, it would seem."

  "Sack her."

  "No, no. That would be too obvious. I don't want the enema... I mean, I don't want the enemy to know that I know that they know that I know... Fuck me, what the hell am I talking about?"

  "Bollocks, as usual. Let me go, and we'll draw our plans against them."

  "You really want to be on my side?"

  "Yes, but I owe you a damned good tit thrashing and a bloody good vaginal lips whipping."

  "Seeing as I don't have..."

  "OK, a cock thrashing and a ball... Let me go. I want to see your bar."

  "I don't wear bras. Well, not very often. Did you say, bar? Oh, I see what you mean."

  Releasing the girl, Will waited until she'd wrapped her torn clothes around her naked body before opening the shack door and checking that the coast was clear. The Bishop and Esra nowhere in sight, he took Levan's hand and helped her climb the embankment to the woods. He'd take her back to his place, he decided, praying that no one would see him with a half-naked girl. After a few stiff drinks, and a stiff cock, she'd be in a fit state to discuss the downfall of the Bishop and the Reverend Slagger.

  "Do you have an iron?" Levan asked
as they clambered over the garden fence and dashed through the back door into the kitchen.

  "An iron?" Will echoed.

  "My clothes are crumpled."

  "I don't know about crumpled. They're ripped to shreds," he laughed as her skirt fell to the ground and the remnants of her panties hung like a flag without wind from her pussy. "You'll have to walk around with no clothes on."

  "Oh good," she giggled, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of lager.

  "Please, feel free to help yourself," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  "I always do. So, where's this bar of yours?"

  "In the other room. Look, before we get pissed and spend the day entwined in rampant lust, we have to make our plans."

  "Can't we do the entwining and lusting first?"

  "All right... I mean no, we can't."

  "You could at least allow me to have a bath."

  "Oh, all right. Upstairs, first on the..."

  "I was thinking of a tongue bath."

  "For God's sake, Levan. You don't seem to realize that... Go and have a bath..."

  As the girl left the kitchen and went upstairs Will took her lager from the table. Swigging from the can, he pondered the situation. Was it purely coincidental that the Bishop and Esra happened to stop by the shack and discuss their plans? Or had the episode been contrived? Perhaps Levan was the man on the inside? Or the woman on the outside. Lana the barmaid might be innocent, he mused. This was all too much for Will's brain to handle. Spies, double agents... He had to get his act together and determine exactly which of the delectable morsels he could trust. Fucking them was easy, but trusting them... Grabbing the ringing phone, he sighed as he heard the Bishop's voice.

  "Where were you this morning?" the man asked.

  "Let me think," Will sniggered. "I was wanking in the bath until ten o'clock and then..."

  "Listen to me, Entercock. A girl has gone missing. She was last seen in the woods behind the village hall."

  "Perhaps she's still there."

  "Of course she's not still there, you blithering idiot. What have you done with her?"

  "Done, Bishop? I haven't done anything with her. I don't even know who you're talking about. About whom one is speaking, one has no idea."

  "One knows damned well... PC Bridlington is on his way to see you. Try lying to him."

  "Oh, I will. Good day, Bishop."

  No sooner had Will replaced the receiver when the front doorbell rang. It was all go, he thought, dashing through the hall. There was a slight problem, he knew as he opened the door. Levan, the missing girl, was in his bath - in his bathroom. But he'd lied his way out of trouble often enough. Living with Josie, he'd become an adept liar. Grinning at the Constable, he asked whether he could help him.

  "I believe you can," the officer replied, stepping into the hall. "I'm making enquiries concerning a young lady."

  "Good grief," Will gasped, closing the door as the man removed his helmet. "A young lady? What on earth is the world coming to?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know. I suppose I meant, what is the world coming to."

  "The young lady in question..."

  "You've taken her in for questioning?"

  "No, no. She's missing. And don't ask what she's missing."

  "I wasn't going to."

  "Yes you were. She was seen in the woods behind the village hall earlier today."

  "And she wasn't seen later?"

  "Correct. Wait a minute. How do you know she wasn't seen later?"

  "Because you said she's missing."

  "Ah, so I did. Let's not play games, Father. This is a serious matter, and one I need to clear up without delay. I know you like your little joke, making out you don't know what I'm talking about, but it's a waste of valuable time."

  "What is?"

  "There you go again."

  "Where have I gone?"

  "Who's that upstairs?" the Constable asked as a loud thud sounded on the ceiling. "I know that Josie has gone to Moscow, so who's up there?"

  "Rats."

  "Rats? You have rats in the house?"

  "No, I meant, rats, I've just stubbed my toe."

  "Will you please tell me who's up there, Father?"

  "My son."

  "Your son? But you don't have a son."

  "He's long lost. At least, he was long lost. He's now long found."

  "I shall take a look at this aforementioned long lost and since long found son of yours."

  Following the man up the stairs Will wondered what the hell to do. At least Lolita wasn't still tethered to the bed, he reflected, thanking God for great mercies. As they reached the landing Will cringed. Levan was in the bedroom, no doubt pissing about with girlie things such as brushing her hair and fucking around with her nails and the like. Hoping that the Constable would think her to be a male, Will sighed as the man knocked and opened the door. What sort of son would have a beautiful pair of firm tits and a shaved fanny?

  "Aha," the Constable breathed triumphantly, entering the room.

  Fuck, Will thought following him and expecting the worst.

  "So, young man. You are William Entercock's son?"

  "Yes, I am," Levan replied, her eyes peeping over the top of the quilt as she lay in the bed.

  "And what, may I ask, are you doing in bed at this time of day?"

  "She's... He's ill," Will broke in, gazing wide-eyed at the girl's shredded clothes strewn about the room.

  "Name?" the Constable asked, taking his notebook and pen from his top pocket.

  "Entercock, William Entercock," Will replied, kicking the girl's ripped panties under the bed.

  "Not you, Father. I was talking to your son."

  "Oh," Levan murmured. "I'm... I'm Wilson."

  "Wilson? I thought you were Entercock?"

  "Wilson, as in Will's son. I'm Wilson Entercock."

  "I see. And your mother?"

  "Er... Motherson."

  "Motherson?"

  "I'm my mother's son."

  "This is all most confusing," the Constable sighed, turning to Will. "What's his mother's name?"

  "Willswife... I mean... Wilsonsmum, as in Wilson's mum."

  "I detect an air of willful lying in the air, Father."

  "Willful was my half sister. Will's full sister, as in half sister twice removed to the mental home."

  "I'll need to examine the body, Father."

  "Body?" Will gasped. "What body?"

  "Anybody. I mean, your son's body. I need to determine his sex."

  "I haven't had sex," Levan returned.

  "Neither have I," Will broke in. "Not a lot, anyway. Look, Constable. My son is a man. Any fool can see that by his cascading locks of long golden hair, his sky-blue bedroom eyes, his pretty face, his succulent glossed lips, his..."

  "Is he gay?"

  "Er... Yes, he is. He wanted to be a boy... A girl."

  "I'm not bloody gay," Levan returned. "Oh. I mean, I am bloody gay. I forgot."

  "You forgot that you were bloody gay?" the Constable asked incredulously.

  "His breasts must have confused her," Will smiled. "Er... Her breasts must have confused him. Would you like to examine me?"

  "Certainly not, Father. I know very well what you are."

  "Shit! Who told you... Ah, I see what you mean. I have to say that your line of questioning is most confusing, Constable. It's obvious to me, and should be to you, that this girl is a girl... A boy."

  "Is she? I mean, is he?"

  "Of course she's a boy. Now, was there anything else?"

  "I forget why I came here now."

  "You came here because a boy is missing."

  "Ah, so I did. I'll bid you and your daughter good day, Father. I'm so sorry to have troubled you."

  "Not at all. My husband and I are always pleased to see you. And my daughter... Son."

  "There was one other thing, Father."

  "Yes?"

  "Have you seen anyone suspicious roaming around
the village of late?"

  "Apart from you, I've seen no one suspicious. There again, the Bishop has been moving in mysterious ways of late."

  "Really?"

  "Oh, yes. Mysteriously suspicious ways. Suspicious ways of great mystery, even. In fact, I saw him this morning acting in a most mysterious suspicious manner behind the village hall with a girl."

  "That might well be the missing boy I'm looking for."

  "I'm sure it is, Constable."

  "Can you tell me which way the Bishop went with the boy?"

  "Right up his anal... They went down to the disused railway track."

  "You've been most helpful, Father. I shall go down to the railway and search for clues."

  "You do that, Constable."

  "Good day, Miss Wilson."

  "Er... Good day, Constable," Levan smiled.

  "You make sure your mother looks after you."

  "I'm sure he will."

  Waiting until the police officer had left the house, Will plonked himself on the edge of the bed and sighed. He couldn't take this, he knew as he held his hand to his aching head. Will's son, Will's mum, Will's full half sister twice removed to the mental home... It was enough to drive a man to drink. Shaking his head as Levan pulled the quilt down, revealing her weal-lined breasts, Will walked to the window and moved the net curtain aside. Watching PC Bridlington pumping up the back tyre on his bike, he wondered what the world was coming to.

  "Shall we have oral sex?" Levan asked, kicking the quilt off the bed and running her fingers up and down the wet valley between her hairless vaginal lips.

  "I can't have sex with my son," Will returned. "Oh, I mean... Yes, let's fuck rotten. God only knows, I need it!"

  "Come and lay by my side, mother. Your son will look after your feminine needs."

  Frowning, Will shook his head. "But you're my son, mother," he sighed, collapsing over the girl's naked body as he passed out.

  Chapter Seven

  Finally coming round, Will found himself naked in bed. There was a note from Levan on the bedside table. Picking it up and reading her scrawled words, he smiled. Gone to spread some disinformation. Love your bar - and your cock. Back soon. Love and lust, Levan. Wondering what she was up to, he leaped out of the bed and pulled his cassock over his head. She was an OK bird, he reflected, noticing her shredded clothes on the floor and wondering what she was wearing.