Undying Lust

Undying Lust
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ISBN:  9781780803029
Author:  Ray Gordon
Word Count:  82,326
Format:  eBook



The DegeneratesThe Degenerates
The SplitsThe Splits

As the man lifted her arms and bound her wrists to the tops of the X-shaped frame with leather straps, Wendy tried to stop him. What was this? Some kind of ritual? She didn't want to be bound to the cross, but she was powerless to utter her objections, let alone break free. Kneeling behind her and pulling her feet apart, the man secured her ankles to the frame too, rendering her naked body completely defenceless. This was some kind of ritual, she was sure. Why else would she have been brought to a chamber and bound to a wooden frame? Why was he still kneeling on the floor behind her? The feel of the man's fingertips stroking her naked buttocks, Wendy gasped. Rudely parting them, confirming her suspicions, the man chuckled as her tethered body jolted and she struggled to break free.
   "What's the matter, my dear?" he asked her, focusing on the tightly-closed ring of her anus...

A near-death experience leaves Wendy Sherman noticeably changed. She had always been very straight-laced, but now she thinks nothing of discussing sex in an open and free manner. Things go from bad to worse when she tries to lure her brother-in-law into bed.

Is it possible that in the few moments she was near death, her soul left her body and someone else quietly slipped in? Does some sex-crazed deviant from the dark and distant past, someone who wants to use her body for his own lascivious pleasure, now possess her?

Walking to the church with her fists clenched, Wendy wasn't at all happy with her sister-in-law. The girl had been stupid to go running to Tom, and now she'd walked straight into the dirty hands of the perverted cleric. The girl was naive and vulnerable to the extreme. What the vicar and his corrupt friends were doing to her, Wendy dreaded to think. A feeling of wickedness engulfing her as she walked through the oak doors and gazed at the altar, she imagined the girl's naked body bound to the wooden frame, the vicar's penis driving deep into her rear passage.
   Although Wendy had gone to the church to save Kitty from the vicar, she now found herself wanting to enjoy the pretty girl. The notion of being bound to the frame, the smooth lips of her pussy bulging alluringly beneath her pert buttocks, she felt her clitoris swell, her nipples rising beneath the caressing material of her dress. Recalling the fisting, the cruel thrashing of her vagina lips, Wendy knew she was going to have to punish her lover most severely.
   Moving the heavy velvet curtain aside, Wendy descended the stone steps to the basement and hovered outside the door to the torture chamber. Listening intently, she could hear the vicar talking, his low murmurs resounding around the basement room. But she couldn't make out what he was saying. Was Kitty in there with him? She imagined the girl's naked body bound to the wooden frame, a wooden dildo deep in her rectum. Picking up the odd word, demon, possession, she pressed her ear to the oak door and listened.
   "That's what I use this room for," the cleric said. "You might think it odd that such equipment is in the basement of a church, but I can assure you that nothing untoward goes on here. Far from it, in fact. The power instilled in me by God allows me to drive out demons, evil spirits and... You have been in close contact with Wendy. Sadly, the demon possessing her has got its grip on you, Kitty."
   Wondering why the girl wasn't saying anything, Wendy reckoned the man of God had already got her bound to the frame, her pretty mouth gagged with the rubber ball. Was his rock-hard cock embedded deep within the girl's arsehole? Her stomach somersaulted as she pictured the lewd scene. The vicar was an interfering pervert, she mused. But Kitty presented a real threat to Wendy's new-found life. Running to Tom with her tales of possession, visiting the vicar... She was going to have to be dealt with, her wicked ways corrected. But the vicar, as usual, was standing in the way. Coming up with an idea, Wendy tapped on the door. Hearing movements, she took a deep breath as the door inched open and the cleric peered at her.
   "Wendy," he breathed, surprised. "Er... What are you doing here?"
   "I've come to help you deal with Kitty," she replied, smiling at the man. "She's possessed, and she needs our help."
   "Possessed?" he echoed, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. "What do you mean?"
   "She's in there, isn't she?"
   "No, no she's... I was preparing the room for... I'm starting work on the museum."
   "Don't lie to me, Father. Kitty is in there, probably tied to the wooden frame."
   "What on earth are you suggesting?"
   "Let me in and I'll tell you."
   "All right," he agreed, opening the door. "There. Take a look for yourself."
  Walking into the torture chamber, Wendy couldn't believe the change. The wooden frame had gone. The whips, dildos, handcuffs... She could see nothing resembling instruments of sexual torment. The vicar had been talking to Kitty, she knew as she looked around the empty chamber. He'd mentioned her name. But she couldn't have vanished into thin air. Turning, she frowned at the man as he smiled at her.
   "Where is she?" she asked him.
   "I told you, Wendy. Kitty isn't here."
   "Tom said that she'd come to see you. This would have been about half an hour ago."
   "Well, she didn't turn up. What's all this nonsense about possession and sexual abuse?"
   "I like the way you call it nonsense. After what you did to me, here, in this very room..."
   "Wendy, I have no idea what you're talking about," he sighed. "I'm going to use turn chamber into a museum and..."
   "Oh, I see," she hissed. "You sexually abuse me, whip and fuck me, and then clear away the evidence and deny all knowledge of it."
   "Deny all knowledge... What are you talking about?"
   "The Anal Club."
   "The... What on earth is the Anal Club?"
   "Does the name, Colin Baker, mean anything to you?"
   "No, no I'm afraid not."
   "There's no point in continuing this conversation."
   "I couldn't agree more, Wendy. Look, I have things to do."
   "So do I, Father. Namely, find out where you're hiding Kitty."
   "Hiding her?" he laughed. "Feel free to look around. I'll be in my office, should you need me."
   As he left the room, Wendy looked around the chamber. She'd either been dreaming or the vicar was lying, she mused. She was positive that her time in the torture chamber had been no dream. A nightmare, yes. But not a dream. She's heard the man talking. He'd mentioned Kitty's name and... She wasn't going mad, she was sure as she looked at the stone walls. Had the vicar been talking to himself? Had he been rehearsing his lines for when he eventually lured Kitty to the basement?
   Leaving the room, Wendy climbed the stone steps and looked around the church. Kitty must have been there, she reflected, walking towards the main doors. She'd not heard the girl's voice, but the vicar had definitely mentioned her name. Hearing someone approaching the church, she slipped into the shadows and waited. It was the vicar's friend, the man who had called himself Levon. Wondering what he was doing there, she thought that the vicar might have called him to say that they had a new victim: Kitty.
   "Anyone about?" the man called, walking towards the altar.
   "Here," the vicar replied, emerging from his office.
   "Ah, right. So, where's this fresh little..."
  "Hang on," the cleric interrupted the man, making his way towards the heavy velvet curtain. "Wendy was here. I think she's gone, but I'd better check."
   "Right you are."
   Kitty was somewhere in the church, Wendy knew as she waited in the shadows. Fresh little what?
   As the vicar returned from the basement he smiled at his friend. Obviously believing they were alone, he sat on a pew next to the man and talked about the chamber. Wendy had been right. He'd cleared away the evidence of his debauchery. But where was Kitty?
   "That bitch has been down there," he said. "She found nothing, of course. But she's suspicious."
   "Of what?" the man chuckled. "She's obviously not right in the head. No one is going to believe her amazing story about a sexual torture chamber in the bowels of the church."
   "I hope not," the vicar sighed. "I didn't think she'd come back. The idea was that she'd be so terrified after her ordeal she'd never come here again. That's exactly what happened with the others, isn't it?"
   "Yes, but they were different. We instilled the fear of God into them, and it obviously worked. But where Wendy is concerned..."
  "Wendy is different," Father Earnshaw murmured pensively. "The other girls would never come anywhere near the church afterwards."
   "You're right. Wendy is different. There's something about her. Something I don't like. You don't think she really is possessed, do you?"
   "No, of course not," the cleric laughed. "Anyway, don't worry about her. Come and meet Kitty."
  Biting her lip as she watched the men slip behind the velvet curtain, Wendy frowned. Kitty was in the basement. But whereabouts? Following the men, she hovered outside the chamber door. She could hear movements, something creaking, scraping across the floor. Peering through the crack in the door she was just in time to see what appeared to be a section of the stone wall closing. The place was akin to something out of an old horror film, she reflected, walking into the room. Running her fingertips over the section of the wall that had opened, she realized it wasn't stone. Made out of fibreglass, she would never have found the door unless she'd witnessed it closing. Wondering what to do, she listened to the low murmur of male voices.
   "A very nice specimen," the vicar's friend said. "But what are we going to do about Wendy? She'll be back, I'm sure of it. And I'm also sure that this delicious little slut won't be frightened into keeping her pretty mouth shut."
   "I have an idea," the vicar said...

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