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Ten minutes later Rupert and Jeremy appeared, full of apologies for the delay. As a subdued Beth, now tidy in jeans and a modest top, came in, Rupert said: "So I spoke to Bishop Patrick and it's all arranged. For £2000 a month to the community centre fund, you give our trainees individual French lessons and take them for PE: we can't let Georgie bully them any longer. Then we'll also need you to counsel them if they need it and we'll give you a bit extra for that - say £750 a month to your personal account? Now, I hope that's all good? Good? Good!"
I was a happy man when I walked out of the manor, just as Mandy, Abby and Nusrah came back from their run. In the house, I knew Beth would be a conflicted girl. Taken willingly enough but in a show of reluctance; slapped just the once; made to suck cock and swallow cum; and then deflowered and fucked... and part of her had revelled in her humiliation, as much as she had in the event enjoyed the sex, and certainly the orgasms. She'd definitely need counselling I thought, and looked forward to giving it. For my part, my conscience was troubling me a little, but I'd got the centre financed, and the promise of a bit extra for me. And my fingers were still redolent of Beth's tight young and no-longer-virgin vagina. Not a bad day!
That evening the Bishop rang ebullient as ever, "So, did I help you out, or did I help you out?! Rupert simply adores you, Father. I'm looking forward to hearing great things of your collaboration. Don't let me down now!"......
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