The Price of Desire

by N. K. Fox

  His expression was troubled, like he was fighting an internal conflict, debating the right thing to do. Finally he spoke; his voice had a slight tremor.

  ‘It has been said that your sister’s forays in the village have not been entirely wholesome.’ The vicar wiped away a bead of sweat that had begun to trickle from his temple. He did not seem at all comfortable with what he was about to say, but he continued. ‘I could tell you what I know but I would want something in return.’ He lifted his hand to her face again and their eyes met.

  ‘I would do anything to find Lily,’ she promised. ‘My father is a very wealthy man and I’m sure he’ll be happy to make a large donation...’ her words tailed off. The vicar was shaking his head, smiling pityingly.

  ‘You misunderstand me, child...’ he replied, and keeping one hand against the side of her face, he lifted the front of his robe.

  To Georgie’s shock he was completely naked underneath, his semi-erect penis only inches from her face. Now she knew what he wanted! How could she have been so naïve? He may have been a man of God but he was still a man, after all. But there was no other choice. She had to help her sister, and if she had to suck off this old fraud for information, then so be it. So she reached up and grasped his thick shaft with her slender fingers, slowly stroking the length.

  Swallowing her revulsion she hesitantly parted her lips and pulled his bulbous head into her mouth. His cock stiffened and she looked up to see him smiling down at her, and felt a sudden and surprising thrill. She knew he was getting off on having one of the young ladies of the estate on her knees before him, but Georgie felt a strange sort of power over the old man. She knew how to make the most of her sexual talents and was confident she could have him wrapped around her little finger in no time.

  She gagged as the enormous growth reached the back of her throat. The vicar grunted his satisfaction and thrust his hips, forcing himself further down. Her eyes began to water but the vicar held her tight by the back of her head, until she had swallowed his entire length.

  ‘There’s a good girl,’ the vicar whispered. ‘Take it all the way down.’ He stroked her hair almost tenderly as he half retracted his organ, glistening with her saliva, but her respite was short-lived as her mouth was again filled with his throbbing flesh. His hands moved down her neck and caressed her shoulders, his skin surprisingly soft as he traced the line of her collarbone.

  Georgie had to concentrate so intently on her breathing that she hardly realised the vicar had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her bare breasts. His fingers quickly found her nipples, pinching them clumsily as she sucked on his throbbing flesh. She tried to cry out but all she could manage was a strangled sob, the vicar maintaining his relentless thrusts into her mouth.

  All thoughts of her sister were lost. Georgie’s knees and legs were beginning to ache from holding her position on the hard floor, but she wasn’t about to stop now, there was a fire burning in the pit of her stomach and the tingling between her legs was becoming unbearable. There was something so dirty, so unholy about being on her knees in the church doing something so perverted.

  Georgie reached down and pulled her skirt above her hips, revealing stocking-tops and white silk panties. The vicar stopped his thrusts and removed his wet penis from her mouth, the large purple bulb pulsing inches from her face.

  For a moment everything was still while the vicar gazed between her milky thighs. Slipping a hand inside her panties she gave an involuntary shudder, her fingers delving into the hot wetness that waited there. The vicar grabbed himself and began to stroke his shaft rhythmically, his eyes still transfixed at the spot where Georgie’s fingers were working away under the tight satin. Georgie felt like she had gained some advantage, the power back with her.

  ‘My pussy’s so wet,’ she said in a whisper that seemed to reverberate around the church.

  Slowly and deliberately she withdrew her hand. Two slender fingers covered in her own juices moved towards her mouth and lingered on her lips. She had the vicar’s undivided attention. She put her hand once again into her soft folds of flesh. ‘Mmmm,’ she moaned softly, leaning her head back.

  She was giving the old pervert a good show, but she knew what she was doing. So what if the aging priest watching her masturbate was making her as horny as hell? So what if all she could think about was grabbing his erect prick and thrusting it deep inside her until she came. But she managed to maintain a shred of self-control... for now. First, he had to fulfil his end of the bargain.

  ‘Would you like to see my nice wet pussy?’ she asked him, still pressing her advantage.

  The vicar nodded his head, not meeting her eyes. Georgie hooked her thumbs into her waistband and pulled her soaking panties midway down her thighs. Her glistening mound was clean-shaven, which delighted the vicar. He gasped at the sight and then dropped to his knees in front of her, his hand pumping his hard cock furiously.

  ‘Do you like what you see?’ she asked, her fingers lazily playing over her slippery folds.

  With two fingers she held her lips apart, allowing him a full view of her wet hole and swollen clitoris. He was so close to her now; she had him exactly where she wanted him.

  ‘Do you want to put your big fat cock in my tight wet pussy?’ she taunted, and the vicar merely groaned in response. ‘I want your cock in me, I want you to fuck me right here, right now. Would you like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ came his gravelly reply.

  ‘Then you know what you have to do. Just tell me what you know. I’m so wet, please tell me so I can have you inside me. I know you want it as much as I do. Look how wet my pussy is.’ She thrust three fingers inside herself with ease and watched his bright red face contort in turmoil, his desire as a man fighting with his duty to God.

  He groaned. ‘She’s... she’s a prostitute. A whore, a harlot. She sells sex for money,’ he blurted, unable to restrain himself any longer, desire defeating beliefs. ‘Ask around in The Greenman,’ he continued. ‘She’s known to pick up business in there.’

  Georgie was not given time to absorb this information; the pact now complete the vicar launched himself upon her, knocking her to the floor. His hands were everywhere, grabbing at her breasts, clawing between her legs, probing between her buttocks. He flipped her over onto her knees, her skirt above her waist, her pert buttocks thrust into the air. Even though she knew what was to come she couldn’t help but cry out as he penetrated her sopping hole in a single thrust. With his hot pole deep inside her, sending an unexpected warmth all over her body, she lifted her hips to allow him to plunge deeper.

  His frantic thrusts were hard and fast, erratic and almost primitive. It wasn’t long before she felt him pulsing inside her, and the warm gush of fluid pumping deep into her.

  Withdrawing his quickly softening shaft he stood up, leaving Georgie panting on the floor. Without looking around she pulled up her wet panties and silently rearranged her skirt. She was shocked, about what she had been told of Lily, about her own behaviour, and about how much she had enjoyed it.

  Shakily she got to her feet and buttoned up her blouse. Turning slowly to face the priest she found herself alone. He had vanished into thin air.

  ‘Coward,’ she shouted into the silence, and stormed out of the empty church.

  Georgie couldn’t face going back to the Manor. What would she tell her parents? If what the vicar said was true she clearly didn’t know her sister as well as she thought she did. Lily, a prostitute? It couldn’t possibly be true, could it?

  Georgie hadn’t been home as much as she should have been lately; maybe she should have made more of an effort to see her sister over the last year. But she had been so wrapped up in her own life in Cambridge, would she have known if her sister was unhappy? Lily could be rebelling, but it just seemed so unlike her; she was such a determined person, she knew her own mind and in her own way she was already rebelling against her parents by going to a sta
te college and wanting a career in the church. She always said with a smile that she would be the first female Pope. And Georgie thought she was only half joking.

  Georgie decided that instead of going home she would go over to Bunnie’s. Things always seemed clearer when she was with her friend. There she could call her parents and see if there was any news. Lily might even be home by now, and Georgie could be worrying for nothing. But she could also confide in Bunnie, she could tell her everything that had happened in the church, she knew her friend would not judge her, and she knew Lily as well as Georgie did. Bunnie was sure to have an opinion on the vicar’s revelation.

  Bunnie lived with her mother on the outskirts of the neighbouring town. They were lifelong friends of Georgie’s family. Both dynasties had lived in the area for generations. Bunnie’s family were an extremely wealthy aristocracy that owned most of the land that the town was built on.

  Despite Bunnie finishing her education (not that Georgie thought that obtaining her degree in Wiccan practices was a real qualification), Bunnie was content to live with her mother, Anneka, dedicating her free time to tarot readings, astronomy, crystallography, alternative therapies and painting.

  Bunnie didn’t need to worry about an income. Her father died when she was just six, and as an only child not only did she have a very generous allowance that she couldn’t possibly spend, she would also inherit the entire fortune in her mother’s will. Georgie didn’t even know how much her friend would be worth, but taking the land, the estate, investments and a handful of business enterprises you were talking many millions. But to know Bunnie you would know how unaffected she was by it all. That was one of the things that brought them together as children. Georgie was always treated differently by others of her own age, probably because of her father and the fact that most of the people in the village relied on her family for work in some form or another. But Bunnie seemed oblivious to the pomp and circumstance of their social circle, they hit it off straight away and had been close friends ever since.

  She arrived at Bunnie’s half an hour later. It was a grand three storey building, surrounded by gardens and acres of farmland. It was nowhere near as impressive as Marrington Manor, but it was beautiful and picturesque and more than enough for the two of them.

  Bunnie’s father died when they were kids, and Georgie remembered when it happened. She hadn’t been allowed to go to the funeral, she was too young, but she had gone to the gathering afterwards. She remembered Bunnie dressed in her favourite pink dress, the only colour in a sea of black, clinging furiously to her mother. Georgie didn’t speak to Bunnie that day; she didn’t know what to say. She was only a child herself and had no idea of the enormity of the event. Bunnie had been more reserved in the months following her father’s death, but the girls’ close friendship seemed to bring her back out of herself, and in time she was the same lively girl that Georgie had always known. She had vowed that she would never let her friend down again and she would always be there for her.

  Georgie’s knock on the door was answered by a surprised Anneka. She beamed at the sight of her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

  ‘Hello stranger, long time no see!’ she exclaimed, releasing her and stepping back so Georgie could enter.

  Bunnie was the spitting image of her mother. They were often mistaken for sisters as her mother looked nothing like her forty-five years. They were so alike that Georgie often felt irrationally flustered when they were in close proximity. Anneka’s eyes were still a young, sparkling blue, her blonde hair tied in a French plait. In jeans and a tight grey sweater she could easily have passed for a student at Georgie’s university.

  ‘Hello, Anneka, how are you?’

  ‘Very well, thanks Georgie, and happy birthday! Sorry I couldn’t make your party last night but I had something I just couldn’t get out of. But I was hoping you’d stop by as it’s been ages since I’ve seen you. How’s life in Cambridge?’

  ‘Good,’ said Georgie. ‘It’s hard work though. I’ve got my exams at the end of the year.’

  ‘Well I hope they aren’t working you too hard. You should make sure you take some time for yourself too. I don’t know if Bunnie’s told you but my life coach has been teaching me tai chi...’

  ‘Oh mum, she doesn’t want to hear about your latest fad.’ Bunnie appeared in the hallway and walked over to give her friend a lingering hug. ‘Any news on Lily?’

  Georgie shook her head.

  ‘Oh I’m so sorry, Georgie darling, I totally forgot to ask,’ Anneka said. ‘Your mother called me this morning and told me Lily hadn’t come home. You must be so worried.’

  ‘I’ve been asking around Coxham Marsh but nobody’s see her.’ She shot Bunnie a glance, hoping she would interpret the meaning correctly. She needed to talk to her in private.

  ‘Let’s go through to the sitting room,’ Bunnie said, and guided her down the hall.

  ‘I’ll have cook send in some snacks,’ Anneka called after them.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Bunnie asked once they were safely in her private living room.

  ‘I’ll tell you in a moment. Can I call home first? I want to see if they’ve found her.’ Georgie picked up the phone and dialled, and while in conversation with her mother a veritable feast was brought in, and Bunnie was sitting on the sofa, cross-legged, munching a sandwich while absentmindedly shuffling a deck of tarot cards.

  ‘Still no news?’ she asked as Georgie hung up the phone.

  ‘No, nothing,’ Georgie sighed, lighting a cigarette and tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. ‘Dad called; he hasn’t found her yet either but he’s still out looking. Mum’s not handling it very well. She’s convinced she’s been kidnapped or is lying in a ditch somewhere.’

  Georgie looked down at the plate of food. Her stomach was churning with anxiety and she didn’t think she could keep anything down. Bunnie noted her friend’s expression and poured her a large brandy instead.

  ‘Drink this, it’ll help,’ she said, handing her the amber liquid. ‘So what do you think happened to her?’

  Georgie took a sip of the brandy. It burned its way down her throat and hit her stomach. She then proceeded to tell Bunnie in detail everything that had happened in the church, including what the vicar had told her. Bunnie sat listening, slight shock registering on her face when Georgie got to the part about the price of the information, and what it cost her. But she looked more shocked to hear what the vicar had said about Lily.

  ‘You don’t believe him?’ Bunnie asked, once Georgie had finished her story.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, sounding deflated. ‘Ordinarily there’d be no way I’d believe it, but it’s so out of character for her to go missing like this. And she missed my birthday. I just don’t know what to think.’

  ‘Well I don’t believe it. I know Lily and there’s no way she would get involved in anything like that.’

  ‘But then, why would the vicar say it?’

  ‘To get a fuck out of you?’ said Bunnie, matter of factly.

  Georgie had considered that, and of course it was a possibility. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach; that she might have gone through all that and he was just playing her the whole time. But could she risk ignoring the information if there was the slightest possibility that he was telling the truth? ‘It can’t hurt to check out the pub. Will you come with me? I won’t say anything to my parents until we find out whether it’s true or not.’

  ‘Of course I’ll come with you,’ Bunnie said. ‘But I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.’

  It was half past ten and Georgie and Bunnie were on their second bottle of wine. They sat at the bar in the village pub. The Greenman was as old as the church and looked as if it hadn’t been redecorated in the last fifty years. The wallpaper was peeling at the corners, threatening to fall off at any moment. The carpet may have been a red colour at some point
, but was now just a filthy brown.

  Bunnie leaned forward. ‘Are we going to ask someone or not?’

  Georgie looked around. Apart from a group of rough-looking middle-aged men at the other end of the bar, they had been the only customers all night. She felt conspicuous, even though she had dressed down for the occasion in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and she wore little make-up. Bunnie had done the same, discarding their usual designer labels and dressing down so they would hopefully pass as a couple of students from the town. If people found out she was Lady Georgina they may be less likely to give her the information she needed. Although, now they were here she began to think it wasn’t such a good idea. Close-knit communities like this were always suspicious of strangers, and the group of locals kept shooting furtive glances in their direction.

  ‘Do you want me to ask them?’ Bunnie said.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not so sure this is a good idea.’

  The barman or landlord who had been serving them all evening reappeared from a door behind the bar. He was a large man in build as well as height, and he had to stoop to avoid a collision with the low beams of the pub. His head was a tangled mess of black hair and his face was hidden by an unkempt beard. He walked towards them wiping his hands on a dirty dishcloth, and looked at them through beetle-black eyes.

  ‘You still here then?’ he barked at them, wiping the bar top with the same filthy rag.

  If his appearance was intimidating it was nothing compared with his abrupt manner. Georgie was not accustomed to meeting men like him. The gruff figure before her would not look out of place in the wild. There was a power radiating from him, with an underlying air of danger. He scared Georgie, but she tried to dismiss the feeling. She was being silly, letting her imagination get the better of her. She took a sip of her wine and prepared to ask him the question she’d been rehearsing in her head, but Bunnie got in there first.