‘Hello, Galatea,’ he says.
I try to return his smile but, although I’m buzzing with pleasure at what he’s done to me, I still can’t help but feel terrible for my earlier failure. ‘I’m sorry,’ I murmur, not sure what else to say.
His laugh surprises me. ‘The whole point of having a statue is so that you can bring her to life.’
He lifts me up and sets me back on my plinth. I sink to my knees and he arranges me in my pose, my knees apart, back arched, eyes down.
‘Now,’ he says, ‘you have both earned your submission and been rewarded. I’m going to call my guests back in and this time I expect my little statue to remain a statue. For them anyway. I’m sure she’s learned now the proper time to awaken.’
I have. I nod my understanding meekly. It’s the last time I will move until we’re alone again.
I’m tingling in all the places where the crop has kissed me and I imagine my skin is red and marked from the little leather tongue. It will be no secret to the others what has happened, what’s been done to me. I also imagine I now radiate a glow of ecstasy, an invitation, a challenge. Let them try and distract me, to make me react. I will come to life again, but only my master will see it.
Penance for the Perverse (#ulink_4ed31edd-d594-51ba-9011-e0cda0e4a44b)
Heather Towne (#ulink_4ed31edd-d594-51ba-9011-e0cda0e4a44b)
Joe and Mary fell in love almost as soon as Mary arrived in Joe’s small hometown. She had lived in a large city on the west coast, and was now seeking a simpler, more spiritual life in the rolling hills of northern Idaho. Joe was thirty-two and lonely, a respected teacher at the local elementary school and parishioner in the Pine Hills Baptist Church. Mary was thirty-five and longing for a good man and a good life. They were married in Joe’s church two months after first meeting.
Mary was a lapsed Catholic. Now, she embraced Joe’s religion, born-again into Christianity. Joe couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found such a loving, beautiful wife to share his faith and life with, raise a family. He was a tall man, with thinning black hair and a pale, chiselled face, bright-blue eyes and full red lips, a wiry physique. Mary was petite, pretty, with wavy chestnut-brown hair and large violet eyes, an oval face and plush pincushion lips, large breasts and ample buttocks, tawny skin.
It was a month after their nuptials, as they sat in front of the fireplace after Sunday dinner, that Mary said to her husband, ‘Joe, I have a confession to make.’ She looked down at her delicate hands in her lap, her voluptuous body clad in a simple black dress.
Joe glanced up from the textbook he’d been studying. He smiled, his handsome face beaming contentedly. ‘Confession? Why, what do you mean, Mary?’
Mary sighed. ‘Well, in my old church, we used to confess our sins every Sunday – to, well, cleanse our souls, so to speak. Confess any sinful things we’d done or any sinful thoughts we’d had during the week. Then take penance for it. But in your – I mean, our – church, there’s no such thing as a confessional.’ She licked her lips, batted her long, dark eyelashes at her husband. ‘So, I’d like to confess something to you, Joe, have you punish me with any penance you see fit.’
Joe set the textbook aside and patted his lap. ‘I doubt if I could ever punish you, Mary.’
Mary rose and walked over to him, sat down in her husband’s lap. Her lush buttocks spread warm and soft against the crotch of his Sunday suit pants, her shapely legs dangling over his. She coiled an arm around his neck, and he gripped her waist.
‘Go ahead, dear,’ Joe said. ‘If you want to.’
Mary nodded, gazing into her husband’s loving eyes. ‘Well, when Reverend Okoye was giving his sermon this morning …’
Joe squeezed his wife’s waist and placed a warm, gentle hand on her left thigh, smiling beatifically up at her.
‘… I imagined myself sucking his cock,’ Mary stated.
Joe’s hands froze on his wife’s body. He stared at her.
‘He’s such a fine-looking man, you know. I realise he’s married, like we are, but I just couldn’t help thinking about going down on my knees in front of him, as he gave his sermon, and pulling his long hard black cock out of his vestments and swirling my tongue all around his bulbous purple hood, teasing some pre-come out of his gaping slit and slurping it up. Then painting his pipe with my tongue, licking all up and down his swollen shaft, making it shine and throb. Before sliding my lips right over his cockhead and down his shaft, consuming his prick right to the blue-black balls. Then gripping his hips and bobbing my head back and forth, sucking tight and wet and deep on his huge, heavy dong.’
Mary’s fingers bit into Joe’s neck, and she squirmed in his lap, her eyes shining and lips moist, breath bathing her husband’s shocked face in warm, humid air. He gaped at her, sitting rigid, hands clutching her waist and leg.
Mary went on, ‘I sucked his cock for a good long time – up on the stage, with the whole congregation watching – until I tasted more hot, salty pre-come, leaking down my throat. Then I pulled his cock out of my mouth and hooked my finger and thumb around the dripping shaft, just below the swelled hood, cutting off his flow of semen. I pushed his prick up and my head down and kissed his big, hanging balls, licked at his sac, batted his nuts around with my tongue. He just grunted and went on with his sermon, so I swallowed his entire pouch in my mouth and pulled on it, looking up at him from around his pulsating ebony dong.’
Joe gulped, croaked, ‘You–you were thinking all this … when …’
Mary smiled and kissed her husband on his trembling lips, rubbing her butt cheeks against the hardening length of cock she could feel under her bum. Her pussy was warm and sticky with moisture, her nipples thick and buzzing against her dress.
‘I know it’s wrong, honey. That’s why I’m telling you. While I was sucking on the minister’s balls, pumping his cock with my hand, all the parishioners were staring at me, watching me commit oral sex on the reverend. But no one tried to stop me; they were all as turned-on as I was. I teabagged Reverend Okoye for a long time, thoroughly sucking his sac, breathing deep of his musky, masculine scent. Even with his balls bulging my mouth, I slid my tongue out and licked at his perineum. That’s when he spasmed and pulled back, forcing me to spit out his nuts. He lifted me up to my feet and led me over to the altar table, his jutting cock and hung balls shining with my saliva. I was already totally naked, so he just laid me out on my back on the table and gripped his gleaming staff and –’
‘Mary! That’s enough! How–how could you?’
Mary nodded, her eyes sparkling. ‘I know. It’s sinful, isn’t it, Joe? That’s why I had to tell you. That’s why I need penance – have to be punished by you, my husband.’
She undulated her bum against Joe’s stiffened cock some more, then swung out of his tented lap, draped herself over his shaking knees. She pulled the skirt of her conservative dress up, exposing her big bare bottom. She shuddered the twin caramel mounds of her buoyant butt cheeks, looking up at her husband. ‘Whatever punishment you think is appropriate, Joe.’
He stared down at his wife’s humped, boisterous bottom, his face and body burning with heat. He tore his right hand off the armrest of the chair and lifted it into the air.
Mary quivered, her body shimmering with anticipation. ‘Reverend Okoye plunged his cockhead into my pussy, ploughed his shaft into my tunnel. Oh, Joe, I was so full of his cock that my head spun, my cunt stretched like it’s never been –’
Crack! Joe struck his wife’s ass with his hand.
She jumped, gasped. Her soft, sensitive back-mounds shivered wickedly, the imprint of her husband’s bladed hand flaming red on the honey-coloured flesh for a moment.
‘He pulled my legs up to his chest, his dong buried inside of me. But he kept right on sermonising, Joe, as he pumped his hips, churning his cock back and forth in my pussy. The congregation watched and listened with rapt attention. I grasped my splayed breasts and squeezed and –’
Crack! Joe slammed his hand down onto Mary’s bum a second time. She jumped again, gasped again, her breasts and buttocks and body rippling.
‘And I pushed my tits right up to my mouth and sucked on my own nipples, getting banged back and forth on the altar table by the pumping force of Reverend Okoye’s cock. He was so big and powerful –’
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Joe flat-out spanked his wife, smashing his hand down on her buttocks again and again and again. His body shivered with the force of the blows like hers did, Mary’s butt cheeks burning red under his whaling hand, gyrating wildly as his and her feelings.
‘He kept fucking and fucking me, pounding into my pussy. I knew he wouldn’t come until the end of his sermon, he had so much stamina. But I was sure I couldn’t hold out, his sawing pleasure sending me sailing.’
Joe’s hand whistled up and down, striking fast and furious, the crack of hardened flesh against soft skin sounding loud and clear and lewd in the hushed, homey living room. Mary could feel her husband’s cock beating against her belly, as he beat her bottom. She surged joyously with each smashing blow, her pussy staining Joe’s pants with hot, leaking juices.
‘I could hardly bear it, Joe! He was reaming my pussy, stretching and stuffing me. I rolled my head around on the table, kneading my tits, pulling on my nipples, the joy building and building inside of me, his cock pumping me full of wild passion. Until …’
Joe slammed his wife’s ass over and over, lifting and crashing faster and faster, brutally hard. His arm ached and his palm burned, his face flaming hot as Mary’s bum cheeks, his cock surging against her rocking body. He had to punish her. She needed it, demanded it, deserved it. He thrilled with it, like her.
The living room was filled with the vicious cracking of Joe’s hand on Mary’s ass, Joe’s laboured breathing, Mary’s gasps and groans. The frenzy built to towering heights, sweat pouring down Joe’s face. Mary’s bum throbbed, almost brick-red under the onslaught.
Joe whacked Mary’s blazing bottom one final time, then bucked up against her. She felt his warm, wet spurts against her stomach, his spasming cock spouting out orgasm. She reached up and grabbed on to his spank-hot hand and jammed it down sideways in between her legs, pumped his rigid fingers against her sopping wet pussy.
‘He exploded inside of me, blasting me with burst after burst of fiery heat as he concluded his sermon! Finally allowing me blessed release!’ Mary jerked, orgasm erupting in her pussy alongside Joe’s scrubbing fingers and storming through her body in superheated waves. ‘And all the male parishioners got up and swarmed all around me and jerked off over my writhing body, coating my face and tits in their sticky rapture!’
Mary’s head flopped down, and her body went limp over her husband’s quivering knees. He stared blankly down at her battered bottom, his fingers still pressed up against her simmering pussy, his crotch drenched with semen.
Joe and Mary murmured, ‘Amen!’ together.
* * *
Mary’s next confession came less than a week later, after she and Joe had attended a wedding at their church. Joe was making a fire in the living-room fireplace of their rustic bungalow on the wooded edge of their small town, while Mary sat in her chair knitting.