Torments of the Widow McWorter Ch. 07-10

"Not even being forced to start the Reverend's cock in my pussy, however, will be the end of my Carlin's degradation. While the Reverend fucks my pussy, he makes my poor husband stand at the end of the bed and masturbate, but he is not permitted to ejaculate until after the Reverend has cum inside me. Even when he is at last allowed his climax, Carlin must spurt his jism into the crack of the Reverend's ass, and then clean it off with this tongue while the Reverend lays on top of me with his prick still soaking in my sopping pussy. Humbled and ashamed, my husband is required to continue tending us until he cleans away the juices of the our adulterous intercourse with his tongue, first off the Reverend's cock, and then from my cunt."

"Yes you are quite right! My husband hates what I do for my faith, but this is his faith also, and like all the other men with women who belong to the Reverend's choir, he obeys for the sake of his soul and its salvation. If he only wasn't a so proud, and accepted our obligations and obedience to our apostle with better graces, I'm sure the Reverend would not pick on him so, and life would be so much easier for him."

"My goodness, but that must be so terrible for him," I said, no longer able to hide my incredulous reaction. "The poor man must be so frustrated he can hardly stand it. Does he fuck you often?"

"No," Melissa answered, a little hesitantly I thought. "Although all the other men are allowed to have sex with their women even though they are members of his choir, Reverend McWorter does not allow Carlin to fuck me…, not ever. You see, the Reverend has chosen me to be the mother of his child, and he breeds me regularly that I might conceive from his sperm. I do so look forward to the time when my belly swells with the gift from God that our Apostle has planted there. Obviously, while I am being bred with the Apostle's blessed seed, Carlin's sperm must not contaminate my womb."

"Talk about being frustrated…," I started to interrupt, but Melissa shook her head 'no' and continued to explain before I could say anything further.

"No! No! You don't understand. Not having me in his bed is not as difficult for Carlin as you might think. Our Apostle understands that a man has needs, and he arranges for Carlin to get his rocks off quite regularly. Two or three times a week at a minimum, Carlin is assigned to service one or more of the less attractive females of our congregation."

"These women may be older, somewhat ugly or overweight, or lacking in breast size, and therefore not suitable for membership in the Reverend's choir. Nevertheless they are in serious need to be serviced by a hard cock, and the Reverend has assigned Carlin to give them what they are so hungry for. As a result my husband has more pussy than he can handle. It may not be what you would call prime stuff, but all cats look alike in the dark, right? Anyway, the Reverend occasionally has Carlin fuck one of these women while he and I watch, and I can tell you this much, my spouse certainly dicks them with great enthusiasm."

I must have looked doubtful because Melissa continued trying to convince me.

"You have to understand, the Reverend is very good to these women, just as he is to Carlin. Many do not have a man of their own, and those that do get little attention from him. Carlin is in great demand with a full schedule. He can have a woman in his bed every night if he chooses. All of them are sincerely appreciative of the way my husband pleasures them, and they absolutely worship him and his penis. Actually, he does have a very nice penis and he uses it quite well. I sometimes regret that the Reverend does not allow me to enjoy it also."

At this point, Carter reentered the room where Melissa and I were chained, cutting our conversation short. I must admit that I was stunned at the scope of Alexander's sexual fiefdom and the apparently unquestioning loyalty of its serfs, both male and female. I was, however, also bitterly disappointed to learn that my master owned so many sincerely devoted female slaves with whom I must compete.

I should have suspected as much from the beginning, however. I am aware of how common it is for a sexual master to keep a harem of many women who do his will. It was not easy, but I choked back my jealousy. I reminded myself that as a common slave, I am only a wet cunt for my master's use, and I have no right to expect that he will be monogamously faithful to me.

Still there is much I do not understand. Alexander is master and I am slave, that much is simple and certain, but why me? With so many others already in his choir I am certainly not needed to satisfy his masculine rut. Since I do not share a religious fanaticism with my sister "choir" slaves, why would he add me to his harem? How can he trust me? I am bound to him only by his penis, and that is something that women are frequently fickle about.

Even more puzzling, he told me on the night of my surrender, and several times since, that he might take me as his wife. Again why me when there are so many others who believe he has some kind of mandate from God and would be much easier to control? I'm sure he must have his reasons. He is a man with plans for his future, but for the life of me I cannot imagine what part he has chosen for me to play in them.

In the end, however, I decided I would trust him to do what was best for me, and let time answer my questions. Until then I would not worry with matters that are not a slave's concern. A woman newly initiated into sexual servitude should concentrate on pleasuring her master and his magnificent penis, and let the other chips fall as they may.

My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of two dozen or so automobiles. These were all older models showing their age, and each was driven by a man who brought a single female passenger. Naked except for their black leather collars, their arms tied behind their backs, each was led on a leash behind her driver (whom I presumed to be her husband or boyfriend) with her head humbly bowed and her gaze frozen to the floor.

Soon eight of these women were standing on a raised stage at the far end of the chapel from my column, all of them still collared, leashed, and with their arms tied behind. They were all average housewives, perhaps not as comely as Melissa and myself, but not unattractive and certainly more than tasty enough to excite a man's cock. Without a doubt the promised fantasy of owning one of these women implicit to so much temptingly nude feminine skin would make this a profitable evening for the Reverend.

It was perhaps only 10 minutes later that a caravan of more automobiles pulled up in the driveway. In contrast to those that brought the women, these vehicles were new, expensive, and polished. Some were limousines and many were driven by chauffeurs. From behind tinted windows emerged enigmatic men in dark blue or gray business suits wearing dark glasses even though night was already falling.

I knew who they were. "Bidders arriving for the auction, vultures looking forward to a feast on female flesh," I thought.

The men gathered in the foyer where Melissa and I were chained to our columns. The choir members assigned as waitresses, naked except for their black leather slave collars, circulated among the men serving drinks, shrimp and sausages on toothpicks, cheeses, and crackers with assorted dips. The guests milled about chatting with each other enjoying the refreshments and the bare flesh of the waitresses. If the waitresses had been clothed, and Melissa and I were not chained to our respective columns, the scene would have looked like any ordinary cocktail party.

It seemed to me that most, if not all, these "guests" already knew each other. Perhaps they had met in their businesses, or perhaps just as likely, they had previously attended one of the Reverend's slave auctions. From time to time, one would stop in front of either Melissa or myself to feel our breasts, or to run a finger into our pussies.

As humiliating as it was to be treated as so much female meat, I was nevertheless in heat, and my wet was running down the inside of my thigh. It was something out of the Arabian nights, and ever so eroticly exciting, to be a naked female on display in bondage before rich and powerful men. Stimulated by their fingers, my imagination wandered and carried me into a fantasy far away in time and space. I could quite clearly see myself as a Sultan's harem houri forced to dance nude for the amusement of rich merchants who had traveled from far off Venice and Genoa to trade with my owner, their gold for his dates and spices…, and for his female slaves…, such as myself.

My mind drifted between the reality of the erotic present, and an equally erotic world of my imagination. Actually there was little difference between them. Every time one of the Reverend's guests would play with my nipples and pussy, I felt a common bond with all the women down through the ages who have been forced to offer themselves to the exploring hands and rampant cocks of wealthy and important men.

One man whom I surmised from his beard and dark complexion was of Middle Eastern descent (an Arab I would guess) was particularly interested in me. He finally asked Carter to take me down from the post. He said, "She has a nice mouth. I think I would like to try it around my dick."

Miss Maebelle had trained me well. I knew what I must do. I knelt before him, carefully removed his penis from his fly, and wrapped my lips around his partially soft but already stiffening member. Carter was watching me closely. I knew he would report to master on my performance, and I did my very best to impress him. The cock in my mouth hardened, and I began to bob my head raking its full length with my lips, taking the crown down my throat. In only minutes I was swallowing the spurts of semen.

"Ah! She has lips of honey. Tell me about her!" the Arab demanded of Carter. "Is this one for sale tonight?"

"No I'm afraid not," Carter replied. "She is a new addition to the Reverend's choir and I believe he has special plans for her."

There was that hint of my future again! My master has "special plans" for me. Does my master confide in Carter? Does this black servant know what my master intends for me?

While I was considering the possibilities Carter was returning me to my column. I must have made quite an impression on the Arab whose cock I had just sucked. I could hear him telling Carter that it was a shame I wasn't for sale, and that he would certainly pay a very high price for me. After I was again chained and helpless, the Arab stayed with me to finger fuck my pussy with one hand while he squeezed my tits with the other.

I did not disappoint him. It does make a woman so terribly horny to be stretched and helpless against a cold marble post with male hands exploring her most intimate nooks and crannies. I rewarded the finger inside of me with an orgasm any street whore would have been proud of. To the delight of my bearded dark skinned tormentor, my cunt juice ran in streams into and over the hand that had pleasured. The Arab offered it sopping wet to my mouth for me to clean with my lips and tongue.

Only when Carter interrupted to announce the start of the auction did my Arab leave me. The foyer emptied quickly as the men drifted into the chapel and gathered before the elevated stage where the eight women who were the night's merchandize stood awaiting their fate. I had an open view through the doorway into the chapel, and I could see the auction stage quite clearly. The arms of all the women were tied behind them. Nooses hanging from the ceiling looped around their necks to insure that they stood tall and at attention Each kept her head bowed and her eyes on the floor carefully screening her emotions as befits a female slave on the auction block. They all seemed resigned to their fate, but I felt sure every one was terrified of their uncertain fate.

Indeed, terrified might be inadequate to describe what they were thinking. From what Melissa had told me no one could predict how they would be treated by the men who bought them. Certainly they would be used sexually, we all knew that. Each must be wondering, however, how often and in what way she might be fucked, and by how many different men. Would she be whipped and humiliated as well?

A hugely fat and naked woman with enormous tattooed tits and arms, heavy thighs, and a roll of fat around her belly, was on the stage as the auctioneer. In her hand was a limber switch that she flicked randomly at her charges as if to remind them to behave. Soon Madam Tattooed Tits would be offering my sisters in the Reverend's choir for sale to the highest bidder. Obviously this was a job she had done before because she knew exactly how to exhibit the feminine assets of her merchandize to the best advantage.

First she would demonstrate with her hands and mouth how soft and pliable each woman's breast was, before biting down on a nipple and stretching it in her teeth out to its painful limit. When the cruel fat woman auctioneer finished demonstrating teats, each woman was made into spread her legs and show the bidders her pretty shaved pussy. Madam Fat Tits completed that bit of humbling advertising by going from woman to woman briefly finger fucking each one in turn.

Brief as it was, however, the finger did the trick for at least two women I'm sure I saw orgasm almost as soon it disappeared inside their slit. All this slave auction business had caught me so off guard, and it had not occurred to me before, but some of these women must actually be looking forward to their brief experience of being sold as slaves. Perhaps unsatisfied at home, or perhaps merely caught up in an erotic fantasy of standing on an auction block waiting to be sold as a sex slave to a strange man, some of my choir sisters were clearly inflamed by their situation.

For a moment even I was envious. What kind of owner are each of these women hoping for? That he will be gentle and kind, or that he will flog her before he fucks her? That he will eat her pussy? That he likes, or doesn't like, having his cock sucked? That he will be impotent, or that he will have a big cock and use it in her often. That he will, or will not, share her with other men…, or women?

As a grand finale before beginning the bidding, the big tattooed female auctioneer walked slowly up and down her line of prisoners switching their legs. With nooses around their necks, the only possible response by the slave women to the stinging pain was to dance a frantic jig with their legs and feet that set all those lovely naked breasts to bobbing in a most erotic and enticingly sexy way.

Horny from the auctioneer's clever merchandizing, the prospective buyers were eager, and the bidding was furiously competitive. One by one the slaves of the Reverend's choir were led off the stage by the man who would own her for the next three days. Some brought better prices than others. A very tall tan blond woman with small breasts but a

pretty face, a nice ass, and long legs went for almost $3,500. A buxom redhead with liberal hips and muscular thighs topped that by a couple of hundred dollar's.

The Arab who had finger fucked me did not make a single bid. Instead he stood off to the side talking earnestly to my master. I knew he was talking about me, I could just feel it, and I was terribly afraid of what it might mean. Would my master sell me privately?

At the end of the auction, the man who had purchased the redheaded woman with the big tits did not wait to enjoy her privately. He pushed his new slave to her knees in front of the doorway, and with her hands still tied behind her back, stuffed her mouth with his cock. The circle of men around him cheering him on blocked my view of my master and the Arab. By that time I could again see my master, the Arab was gone.

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10. A private party.

The Reverend's guests left quickly after the last woman was sold. As soon as the last one was gone, Carter took Melissa and I down from our columns, attached leashes to our collars, and led us off to our master's upstairs bedroom. He was already there, sitting on the edge of the big oversized bed. Seated beside him was the Arab whose cock I had sucked earlier. Both men were nude, and between their spread thighs, naked and on their knees, were two overweight matronly women sucking cock as if starved for male meat. Neither woman hesitated or looked up from their servile task as Melissa and I entered the room,

"Ah Yes! Come in girls," our master greeted us smiling broadly. "Melissa, Mary Beth, I want you two to meet Sheik Ali Mohammad of the Saudi royal family. I understand that the Sheik has already made your acquaintance of Mary Beth, and he is quite taken with her. In fact, so much so that he has made a very generous contribution to our church in order that he might pursue his friendship further. Mary Beth, I'm sure that as our evening goes on you will see to it that he is properly rewarded for his generosity."

"And you Melissa," our master continued smugly, "I'm afraid that lately I have been

neglecting my responsibility to breed your hungry pussy. Certainly I cannot expect you to become 'with child' unless I do my part."

"But…, dear me, where are my manners? I have forgotten to introduce these two ladies who have been so deliciously sucking our dicks. May I present Mrs. Leander Polk, and Mrs. Jonathan Speedwell, or as they are known to their friends, Nancy and Alice. I'm sure you have both heard of their husbands who are among Mobile's most prominent bankers and financiers. As you can see, while we waited for you to arrive both ladies have been doing a superb job sucking our cocks."

Alexander was lovingly stroking the hair of the matron between his legs as he suggested, "Take a break now ladies, and say hello to this pair of sluts from my choir, Melissa and Mary Beth."

Until then the older women had not looked up from their servile task, and their faces had remained largely hidden between the thighs of the men whose cocks filled their mouths. Only when Alexander had demanded it, did they raise their heads and mumble an embarrassed greeting. They were both in their mid 50's with large sagging breasts, and they were both passably attractive except for age and being rather fat. Both were blushing furiously and neither would look me in the eye. I could understand why they were so deeply embarrassed and distressed. Any woman would be if unexpectedly caught by a pair of total strangers kneeling naked between a man's knees giving him a blow job.

Master pretended to reassure the two matrons, but his words were more cutting sarcasm than comforting. "Come now ladies, you have nothing to be ashamed of. What better way is there for a woman to warm up for an evening of sex than to wrap her mouth around a delicious stalk of male meat? How else does a woman learn to please a man except by practice? Anyway, as you can see, Melissa and Mary Beth are a pair of naked sluts here to be fucked. Experienced cocksuckers themselves, they are in no position to make moral judgments, or to think less of you because you were using the Sheik and I to hone your skills at the fine art of fellatio. "

"Anyway," our master continued, "We have no secrets here. This is a party. Carlin, the gentleman date I have arranged for you ladies this evening, has lately earned something of a local reputation as a cocksman. Sheik Mohammed and I wanted to see him perform in the hope we might learn something from him. I invited Milissa and Mary Beth here to relieve us of the raging hard-ons we were sure to have after watching him service your hungry pussies. Besides, since Melissa is his wife, it is only fair that she see how her husband's technique has improved from his considerable recent practice outside her bed. In any event, I'm sure we're all going to have a fun evening, and some very delightful sex."