Chapter 4

I spent the first few weeks in the Juvenile Detention Center establishing myself as a hard case. This meant kicking the shit out of one or two bullies and generally behaving like a wild man. One result of this campaign was that I was left to my own devices - another was that I acquired a disciple, one Jacoby Smee.

Smee was convinced I had saved him from taking a beating when I selected a large fat boy, who was persecuting him, as one of my targets. Smee became my shadow, cell-mate and source of information. Smee knew a lot about the JDC having already served six months of a two year sentence for arson. He had been a trainee in an video/electronics business and was employed by the JDC to help maintain the network of surveillance cameras which covered every inch of the facility. He even had his own little workshop.

About five weeks into my sentence, Smee and I were digging a drainage ditch in the vicinity of the Chapel when a big breasted woman and a girl sauntered past.

Smee told me they were the Vicar's wife and daughter. The girl attended a boarding school but the woman lived in the Vicarage inside the prison walls.

Smee grinned at my obvious lust.'You wanna see her naked?' he asked.

Smee was happy to show me his 'collection' of secret video tapes in which the vicar's wife co-starred with a variety of vibrators.

'You put a spy camera in her bedroom?' I asked, amazed at his nerve. Smee was very timid.

'Yes, ' he boasted, 'The vicar said it was for security, but he's a liar! The camera switches on when she turns on the light and it records everything onto a tape in the vestry. I soon twigged it's for him!' Smee laughed. 'He doesn't know I take a copy of every tape.'

We were crouched over a monitor in Smee's workshop looking at the colored image of a mature woman masturbating. She was in her early thirties, I guessed, and a natural blonde. She had trimmed her pubic hairs neatly but a golden blush showed clearly. She seemed to draw inspiration for her fantasies from a stack of old 'Detective' magazines.

'What do you mean, Smee, by saying "it's for him"?' I asked.

'The Vicar. He doesn't sleep with her. But he likes to watch her doin' things, on tape.'

'What a waste!' I sighed, and wondered how I could make the vicar's wife my next fuck-toy.

'Tell me about the Vicar, Smee, ' I said, as we watched the taped images of the priest's wife bring herself to orgasm after orgasm.

Smee giggled. 'The Reverend looks after a couple of parishes outside the can so he's away from home quite a bit. He spends Saturday night in the Chapel vestry workin' on his sermon - that's what he says! But I saw on him one night floggin' his mutton and moanin' and groanin' over the week's tapes of Mrs Vicar's bedtime story'.

'Have you got a tape of him wanking?' I asked the puzzled Smee.

'Why would I want to do that?' he protested, 'I'm no poofter!' He blushed bright red and I wondered whether he really was gay and whether he knew it or not. 'Why?'.

'Because, ' I explained patiently, 'if he ever gets wind that you have these copies of his tapes he will be able to accuse you of spying on his wife. It will be his word against yours and who would you believe, eh?'

Smee's face went from pink to grey. 'Christ!' he exclaimed, you're right! Oh! Oh dear!... I know, I'll rig a camera in the vestry and get a tape, or a disk, of him slamming the salami next Friday. Thanks, Sebastian, er, you wouldn't like to help me, would you?'

And that's how I came to join the Chapel choir, so as to be able to help Smee get some dirt on the vicar.

It turned out to be a very good move because the choir mistress was none other than the horny blonde who took her nightly pleasure with a dildo and old copies of 'Detective' and who, I was sure, would appreciate the sort of sexual activity I had in mind. I was wondering how to get the cuddly blonde woman alone when, on my third attendance at choir practice, she surprised me by asking me to remain behind after the evening session.

'Don't worry', she told the bored warden, I'll make sure that the young offender is returned to his room before lights out. I need some help in sorting the hymn books and I'm sure Sebastian will be able to assist me.'

I could hardly believe my luck when, after we had tidied up the hymn books, she sat down in the back pew in the chapel and asked me to sit by her. She licked her lips, nervously.

'I've been meaning to talk to you, 'she began, 'about the way you look at me during choir practice!'

I smiled. It was true that I had mentally undressed the choir mistress during every session. In my mind I had stripped her item by item until she was naked and begging to be fucked.

'You're a very attractive woman, ' I said, 'you must expect to be looked at.'

'I followed your trial in the newspapers. I hate to guess what you are thinking when you stare at me like that, ' she said.

I slid along the polished wooden seat pressing my hip against hers.

'Do you really?' I whispered. She edged away but I followed until she was wedged between the end of the pew and my leg.

'I also read the court transcript, ' she said hoarsely.'The things you did to that poor woman! She was raped for eight hours!'

It probably made more exciting reading than your 'Detective' magazines, I thought, but pretended to be contrite. 'It was the drugs and whisky, Ma'am, ' I said, 'It was just bad luck the lady, Joy, came home when she did.'

'You made her do a striptease!'

To Mozart, I thought. Bloody difficult to strip to the Marriage of Figaro but Joy had done her best. I put a warm hand on the choir mistress' black stockinged knee. 'Yes, ' I admitted, 'but I let her keep her hat on while she blew me.'

Her eyes opened wide and I slid my hand between her thighs, past the soft white flesh above her stocking top, to feel the slick dampness of her panties.'You can keep yours on, too!'I whispered as I forced the thumb and forefinger of my right hand under the elastic lace trim and took a hold on her moist cunt.

'Now, take my prick out, ' I said, 'and do as she did!'

She hesitated for only a moment before she obediently unbuttoned my crimson (young offender) cassock and unzipped my jeans. My erection sprang into her hand.

'This is rape!' she said in a croaky whisper, 'If anyone comes in I shall scream for help!'

'I understand, ' I said, as he she knelt between my legs and took my prick into her trembling mouth, 'It has to be rape.'

It had been some months since I had serially fucked the unfortunate Joy, so I was eager and not very considerate of the vicar's wife. I ripped her dress getting a fistful of pink and white tit to swing on while I rammed my swollen cock down her throat until I came. This caused her to choke and she passed out momentarily. When she came to, she found I had laid her on the chapel floor with a hassock under her hips and her skirt around her waist.

'What shall I call you, Ma'am?' I asked politely.

She didn't hear me. She was wiping her mouth and her eyes were on my prick which was re-erecting after a brief period of detumescence. I slapped her exposed breast to gain her attention. 'What's your name, Bitch?' I hissed.

'M... Mary!' she gasped.

'Well, Mary, ' I said quietly, 'are you going to take off your knickers or shall I? I think you should ask me very nicely to fuck you.'

She started to cry. 'Enough, I've had enough!' she wept. I ripped her panties off. They were black lace.

'No! Don't!' she cried, backing away from me, trying to put her legs together. Her cunt was moist and pink and slightly puffy. I went into her without any foreplay. Right in - scrotum deep - as hard as I could. She didn't scream as her mouth was filled with damp black lace. She was as tight as Joy had been at first but, unlike my earlier victim, Mary climaxed almost immediately and enjoyed multiple orgasms during the 'ordeal'.

In the weeks that followed I raped Mary, the vicar's wife, twice a week after choir practice and after Evensong on Sundays.

I mean 'rape' because that is exactly what she wanted it to be. Had we been discovered by anyone in authority Mary V would have dissolved into tears and pointed to my dreadful record - the marathon rape of poor Joy X who had been rogered unmercifully for hours and made to perform a variety of 'unnatural sexual acts' as the tabloids put it. I didn't tell her about Miss Howard, my first sex-slave, who had disappeared with Rebecca, the fence's daughter, before the trial because I had a similar fate in mind for her. As it was life in the Juvenile Detention Center (JDC) was made more bearable thanks to Mary.

Our routine was simple. I had been appointed hymn book monitor and so stayed behind after choir practice to help. As soon as she could, Mary would summon me to the back of the chapel - one of the few places in the JDC which wasn't covered by surveillance cameras - and say something like, 'This can't go on!' while I roughly exposed her breasts and ripped off her pants (if she was wearing any). She would then have a genuine attack of panic or conscience and would demand that I stop. At this point I would throw her down, tie her up or bend her over and penetrate her as roughly as I could. She always came more than once before I did. In the pause between my first orgasm and re-erection (about ten minutes then) Mary would plead tearfully with me along the following lines.