Chapter 7: Saturday Morning

"They are up to something," said Mary as she soaked in the warm bath after satisfying Pip's and Byron's morning glories. "They'd no sooner finished fucking me than they were out of bed and into their shower. They usually laze around until breakfast is ready."

Her husband gently soaped her neck and shoulders and when she lay back in the scented water used the soft sponge to caress her large breasts and big brown nipples. She sighed at Jeremy's sensitive touch. Through half-closed eyes she noted his erection was growing. Practice, she thought, makes perfect. She reached out to fondle his balls—something neither of them would have wanted ten days ago.

"I suspect it has to do with the Jefferson twins' eighteenth birthday," said Jeremy. They've reached the age of consent and, judging by the way they have been hanging around our guests, all the twins require by way of courtship is a raised eyebrow."

"Maybe." said Mary. "Come here." She drew him to the side of the bath and took his tumescent cock into her mouth. Jeremy was more than gratified at her action he was aroused and responded with pleasure at her skillful use of her lips, tongue and mouth. When he came she directed the spurts of seed into the bath.

Pip banged on the door. "Come on, whore. Where's our breakfast?

"Thank you, darling," the vicar said. "I'm sorry my foolishness brought us to this."

"Was I better than Teddy?" she asked, climbing out of the bath and into the towel Jeremy held ready.

He nodded."Much." He nearly meant it.

The young woman in Pool Side Hut three, Suite three, struggled against the thin ropes that held her bound tightly to a stout wooden coffee table. She could see the sunrise through the one-way window that opened onto the pool. She could hear her tormentor in the bathroom and was terrified he would resume the pattern of pain and pleasure he inflicted on her during the long night. Her whole body throbbed with the pain of his caning. Her clothes hung in tatters and her pussy and anus were swollen and sore from frequent and forceful use. Her breasts ached and her nipples felt as though they had been peeled. She could still taste him in her mouth.

The man had surprised her when he let himself into the suite last night. She had been looking outside where she could see through the floor-to-ceiling window naked swimmers splashing in the warm water of the pool. Other men and women did things Olivia had only heard about in whispered conversations in the school dormitory or noted fleetingly on the net. As she looked a large blonde woman paused outside the window and appeared to look in. The blonde fluffed her affro-hairstyle then spread her legs so she could stroke her completely hairless pudendum with one hand and rub her full pendulous breasts with the other. Olivia took a backward step.

"It's a mirror to her," said the bishop. "She can't see in. She is narcissistic and is making love to herself. Masturbating. Do you masturbate, Olivia?"

The young woman jumped when she heard his voice. She had not heard him enter. She colored and stammered. "How do you know my name?" She was tall with a good figure and a mop of curly black hair. Her big brown eyes were staring wildly at the interloper. She was wearing the simple floral pattern dress and smart shoes she had chosen for the job interview. Olivia thought she knew his face but couldn't say from where.

"Your name was on the key ring Madam Carla gave me. I asked you a question. Do you masturbate, Olivia?"

Olivia shook her head.

"Liar!"said the bishop and he slapped her hard on the side of her head. She stumbled and fell face down on the double bed that occupied about a quarter of the luxuriously appointed room. He pounced on her and ripped the floral print dress she was wearing from neck to hem so her smooth back was exposed.

"Everyone your age masturbates, Olivia. And young women who lie get spanked." He tugged her candy-striped cotton panties down her thighs. He pinned her to the bed with one hand and with the other gave her nicely rounded rump six very hard slaps that left bright red hand prints on her pink flesh.

Olivia screamed and shed hot tears but no-one heard her other than Bishop Carmine and he liked what he heard. He let her go and crossed the room to a wardrobe. The room key opened the wardrobe door to reveal a neatly arranged collection of ropes and straps and canes. Ball-gags and ring gags hung on hooks above an impressive array of dildos of various shapes and sizes. He selected a plain whippy cane about as thick as his middle finger. The bishop turned to face Olivia who had stood and pulled her pants up over her burning buttocks.

When the frightened woman saw the cane in Carmine's hand she let out another scream and scrabbled desperately at the door.

"There's no escape, Olivia" said Carmine. "Go to the window. See what your blonde friend has found."

Despite herself Olivia turned and saw that while she had been spanked the blonde had attracted a pot-bellied lover. The man, even as the blonde continued to masturbate, inserted his rigid cock between her ass cheeks and thrust. The blonde's concentration on her reflection didn't waver.

"That's sodomy, Olivia. It hurts the first time. So I believe does losing your virginity. But you must decide what hurts more ... the flogging I'm going to give you or surrendering your pussy and your ass to my cock, which is considerably bigger than fatso's out there. Come over here. I'll show you." He unzipped his pants and unfolded a cramped and growing erection."

Olivia looked at him and, realizing the hopelessness of her position, broke into tears. She fell on her knees.

"Please," she begged. "Don't hurt me any more. I thought it was a country club when I applied for the job of cabin maid. I was a student at the college and passed the gates lots of times. My visa ran out. No one told me what really went on here. When Madam Carla interviewed me two days ago I realized it was just one big brothel. I'm a virgin. I'm not qualified!"

"Oh, but you are, Olivia," said Bishop Carmine in his most soothing voice." He reached for her mop of tight curls, pulled her head down to his lap and pressed his growing erection between her lips. He rightly judged a polite young virgin like Olivia wouldn't bite him. "Just suck this until it grows some more," he said. "And then I'll show you just how qualified being a virgin makes you in my eyes."

"Where are they going in such a hurry?" asked Mary as she and Jeremy finished their breakfast and watched their uninvited guests drive away from the Manse.

"Jefferson's Farm," said Jeremy. "But it's nothing to do with the twins directly. I heard them talking about the help they've been giving Matthew and Samantha with some building. I'm surprised, I didn't think the farm could afford to hire help."

"You're right. They can't. The riding school is the only thing that keeps them going financially, according to Samantha."

"Why don't you drive over and see what they're up to. Get dressed. I'll do the washing up I'll use the dishwasher."

Mary, not having been told by Pip what to wear, put on bra and panties and a cotton dress with a modest hemline. She slipped on some sandals and a straw hat and took the Toyota to Jefferson's Farm.

When she arrived there was no sign of the young men and she was greeted in the yard by Samantha and the twins. She wished the girls happy birthday and they danced away to help the working party. Wearing stretch denim jeans and identical tops that accentuated their small pointed breasts the two young women could not be told apart. Samantha said the twins were helping to put that was putting the finishing touches to some accommodation Samantha invited Mary in for a coffee. After exchanging the usual pleasantries and small-talk, Mary asked what accommodation the boys were helping with. In reply she got a quizzical stare from the blue-eyed Samantha.

"They haven't told you yet?" she asked.

"No," said Mary. "Is it a surprise?"

"If they haven't told you, Mary my dear, you will be surprised when they do. I see you're in your Mrs. Vicar's outfit. Matthew will be disappointed. He finds those jodhpurs of yours— worn without knickers—a big turn-on. He can't wait to peel them off you and get between your thighs," said Samantha smiling wickedly.

Mary, unused to such language from Samantha, was stunned. She started to bristle. "Really! Samantha..."

"Oh, come," said Samantha. "Stop pretending. Those lads have been in your bed every night since they arrived. You've blossomed. I saw how sexually frustrated you were before they arrived, remember. You were ready to tumble my Matthew in the hay. They've made you dress like a whore and I dare say, fuck like one but you walk like a goddam goddess."

"Dammit, they raped me!" responded Mary angrily.

"Yeah?" said Samantha sarcastically. "That's what they all say. Tell me, when this alleged rape took place, did you come?"

Mary, remembering the shock of her first encounter with the cousins and the subtle manipulation of her clitoris by Byron's capable fingers blushed. She was angry at Samantha's unusual directness and said weakly. "It doesn't matter if I did..."

"And why didn't you report it?"

"They ... they knew something bad about Jeremy and then they took pictures. I can't report it."

"Hah," sneered Samantha. "You don't know who they are, do you? Your disadvantaged city youths?"

"A couple of over-sexed young hoodlums who have taken advantage of at least three households as they play a sadistic game of blackmail, threats of harm and outright brutality ... including multiple and serial rape. They avoid final confrontation by saying they will one day move to something better."