Mrs. Taylor's Excellent Adventures Ch. 04

Mrs. Taylor did her porn star thing, pumping into Greg's hapless ass as if she was fucking another woman's vagina. She kept it up for several minutes, taking moderate pains not to do so very violently. Flashes of porn videos passed through her head. Memories of fucking other women and other men also filled her mind. She just stood there, legs slightly apart, knees minimally bent and with controlled pelvic rolls, fucked in Greg's ass. After a few more minutes she sighed.

"Boring..." she said out loud.

She spied the riding crop. 'Yes...perfect,' she mused. She took it in one hand, guided the dildo back into Greg's ass with the other and started to fuck with intent. Her free arm was around his waist. Tapping him with the crop, she started into a cowgirl routine. "Giddee up, little doggie...giddee up..."

She was arching her back, her pelvis rotated back so that she could thrust up from below. She did so slowly but very firmly, just like she was a guy, saddle fucking a girl. She couldn't help herself...

"Back in the saddle again...I'm back in the saddle again...hey Greg, having fun yet?" Mrs. Taylor just felt like singing a few cowboy songs.

"I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences...And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses ...And I can't look at hovels and I can't stand fences...Don't fence me in"

"You know, Greg, you have to admit that was kind of funny...gaze at the moon...you've got a pretty good one going here...don't know about you, lover boy, but I'm having a really fun time...so tell me..." She took on her Dr. Phil voice. "This anal rape thing...how's that working out for you?"

Mrs. Taylor was having fun. She sang a few more verses from some old cowboy songs, all the while keeping up her ass fucking of Greg. She was keeping time with the riding crop and as the minutes went on, she was landing it a bit harder. Every now and then, she leaned over to check on Greg. As long as his face was flushed and not blue, she felt good about carrying on. The base of the dildo was working her clit and while not close to coming, she was in a very good mood.

"Out in the West Texas town of El Paso...I fell in love with a Mexican girl...night time would find me in Rosa's cantina...music would play and Feleena would twirl...I love this one...don't you, lover boy?"

Mrs. Taylor carried on with her song, rhythmically thrusting up into Greg's well bloodied ass. She let the riding crop fall from her hand. 'Doesn't go with the song,' she thought.

"Blacker than night were the eyes of Feleena...wicked and evil while casting her spell...my love was deep for this Mexican maiden...I was in love but in vain I could tell..." Mrs. Taylor had given Greg a particularly deep thrust at the appropriate time in the song. "Tell you what, lover boy...I think I'll skip a few verses. Let's see...yes..."

"Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran...back door...gotta love it...out where the horses were ti...ie...ie...ied...kind of like you, lover boy...I caught a good one, it looked like it could run...up on its back and away did I ride...no running for you, lover boy, but a riding I will go...A riding I will go...(thrust)...a riding I will go...(thrust)...high ho the dairy oh...(thrust)...a riding I will go...(thrust)"

Mrs. Taylor stepped back laughing merrily. "Oh, Greg, I'm having so much fun. Not sure how you feel about it and...I don't give a fuck. Say, lover boy...think you're gonna get this..." she touched the boy's well injured penis, "up any woman's ass in the near future? Think any of the local girls are gonna want it fucking up any part of them? Lemme guess...given the choice of sucking this thing..." She derisively flicked it. "and sucking some other kid's cock...which kid is gonna be happy? I wonder...I wonder..."

Mrs. Taylor was feeling very, very good. All the alcohol she had been drinking seemed to go to her head at once. She felt empowered; not drunk. She felt strong; not like the weak girls Greg was used to dominating. She felt it was time for Greg to truly learn the errors of his ways. She paused close to his head and whispered. "Greg, listen to me. Your time has come. Greg...lover boy...its...showtime!"

Mrs. Taylor was humming the music of Beethoven, his Ninth Symphony. One of her all time favourite movies was A Clockwork Orange, the dark masterpiece from Stanley Kubrick. Full of rape, the old ultra-violence and the music of Ludwig Van. Mrs. Taylor saw herself as a female Alex. She switched over the dildo from moderate to near lethal, at least to Greg's ass. 'Too bad he isn't a little sister...with a sweet little ready hole...ready for some of the old in out, serious like..."

Mrs. Taylor didn't speak German but she did know some of the lyrics that Beethoven himself added to his Ninth. She prided herself on knowing that it was old Ludwig Van who did that and not Schiller as was commonly supposed. She could hear the music welling up in her head. Time for a little bit of the old ultra-violence. She didn't have any milk plus and she didn't need it.

"O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!" Mrs. Taylor picked up the doubled condom, oozing Greg's semen and blood. She put it to his ass and held it there with the dido. The dildo that was meant for an experienced woman's vagina...after suitable lubrication and tender ministrations.

"Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen..." 'Time for a little of the old in out,' thought Mrs. Taylor. Taking hold of Greg's waist with both arms she closed her eyes, pulled forward with her arms and slowly, steadily pushed her pelvis forward.

"und freudenvollere...Freude! Freude!" Greg may have been clamping down with his sphincter but Mrs. Taylor had all the advantage. He was one big muscle spasm but it wasn't going to prevent the inevitable.

"Freude, schöner Götterfunken...Tochter aus Elysium..." Mrs. Taylor was gasping with the necessary effort. She had no doubt as to the outcome. With a few more moments of all the pressure she could muster, she felt a giving...a little more giving...and then she let out a primal howl of sexual debasement.

The thick, thick dildo was going up Greg's ass. Greg may have been having a seizure, his contortions were so strong. Mrs. Taylor relaxed and let the dildo continue in under considerably less pressure. She gazed down and saw crimson around it, dripping onto the floor. The base of the dildo was thicker than her wrist and it was deep inside her rapist's ass.

"Wir betreten feuertrunken...Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!" 'We enter, drunk with fire, into your heavenly sanctuary,' she said to herself translating the words. 'Perfect!'

Knowing that Greg's sphincter was torn, the ease with which she found herself stroking was understood. And stroking she was. 'The old in out,' she mused. 'The old ultra-violence, serious like...'

Greg was beyond trying to release himself. He was just trying to get enough air to stay alive. Mrs. Taylor watched as his face slowly went from dusky to a brighter red. "So, Greg," she started in her Dr. Phil voice. '...that anal rape thing...how's that been working out for you lately?"

Mrs. Taylor's work was nearly done. She enjoyed moving her strap-on dildo in and out of Greg's now shattered ass for a while. Whenever she took it out completely, it was followed by a flow of blood. It was pooling on the floor. It was time to move on.

She undid the strap-on and tossed it on the bed, no longer having any use for it. It was joined by the whip and the crop. Without a glance at Greg, she turned and entered the bathroom, carefully avoiding the pooled blood. After a quick shower, she combed out her hair, dressed in her soccer mom outfit and gathered the things she wanted to take.

She gave Greg one last visual going over. He truly was a wretched sight. With his skin cut in several dozen places and his torn ass still bleeding, he was no longer a rapist. He was a raped man; a well and truly raped man. Mrs. Taylor imagined what his penis was going to look like in the morning, swollen with the infection from her teeth chewing wounds. Between that, the whip cuts and the missing tissue, the boy rapist's cock was now going to be almost useless. 'Try fucking someone...anyone...with that thing now...lover boy' she thought, finally feeling that the boy had received his just desserts.

Her finger prints and DNA were everywhere but none of it was on record anywhere and she was good at keeping it that way. With her small suitcase and her bag of goodies, she left the bungalow and walked to her car. Her husband would have a new set of plates for it so she wasn't worried about anyone who might remember it's current plates. In fact she had no worries at all. She seldom did.