Paul Conroy - Sex Sated Minister

Susan noticed Stokes carried a silken cord with a knot at the end, and he used it now to touch her mother's midriff. It took a lot of willpower on Susan's part not to scream. She jammed her knuckles into her mouth, watching as her mother stood there proudly, saying, "Yes, my husband. Yes, scourge me. Whip me, and drive the beast from my body," But all the whip did was tease.

All four men were staring hungrily at her, and Susan wondered why they were permitted to watch this debasement of her mother. She could see the tight pants of each man bulging at the crotch. And her mother's long brown hair cascaded down her white back like a dark waterfall as she stood there, glorying in the tantalizing her husband was applying. She acted as if he were whipping her.

"Kneel!" Stokes ordered, and his White wife complied.

Susan watched as her mother's closed eyes refused to see anything. She bent forward, raising her buttocks high in the air, shuddering in anticipation of the blows her husband could be dealing her. Susan could see her mother's smooth, untouched buttocks.

Her mother had been receiving this kind of treatment for some time. Not only that, but from the rapt expression her mother wore, it was obvious the woman was enjoying it.

Ezekiel Stokes slowly drew the silken strand across his wife's up thrust posterior, almost as if caressing it with his flail. Abigail felt the silken cord slide across her rear like a gliding snake, and she shivered. Then it slid back the other way, teasing her, making her gasp. It began sliding back again, a little faster this time, and then it was moving back and forth across her buttocks like a strop honing a razor. And then, when the titillation became too much for her, she suddenly imagined the silken cord bit into both cheeks at once as her husband drew it lightly over her ass. The silken, knotted strand rubbed excitingly into her glutei cheeks. It began moving back and forth across her cheeks, something tickling two at once, sometimes teasing only the right cheek, sometimes kissing only the left cheek. Snick! Snick! Snick! Wheet! Wheet! Wheet! The lash accelerated its journey, vexing her again and again, yet making no marks in any way on her tender white bottom.

Abigail shivered with each touch. When her buttocks tightened, bracing for the hard whip, she suddenly felt the silk slide delicately across.

Then, when her body was loose and she no longer expected a chastising blow, the whip came down with a light THWACK! Her head hung limply forward now, with her long brown hair falling over her eyes. Her back was shining with a sheen of perspiration as something was happening between her thighs, building as the punishment continued.

"We're driving the devil out of you between your cuntlips," Ezekiel Stokes intoned.

"Yes, yes, yes," Abigail screamed, anticipating the unfelt stings in addition to the soft strokes, and the suspense of not knowing what kind of blow would fall made her watering cunt itch with excitement.

Stokes continued his methodical teasing, staring at her buttocks. He had come to know those white buttocks quite well. With the passing of time he had come to understand every movement of them. Soon she would be ready for the next step.

Susan stared into the shining eyes of the black man and realized there was no hate in him. At least it wasn't any type of racial hate. Whatever he did, he did because he believed it needed doing. Though his religion might be the same as her own and that of her mother, his methods of practicing it were different. Even so, Susan felt he had no right to chastise. She, herself, would not have accepted it. Yet her mother was glorying in it.

Abigail's back was aglow, shining with perspiration. Anguish seeped into her flesh, all the way down. The quivering, gelatinous flesh though untouched, seemed hurt. And her smooth white skin was trembling. The delicate trailing of the silken cord across her flesh seemed to burn now. Her ass had become an unreal trembling mass of thorough and continuous agony and degradation. The evil was being forced out of her, or so she believed.

Abigail's face under the strands of hair covering it had become a twitching agony. When she opened them, through a red mist she could barely see anything because of her hair in the way.

As Susan stared, aghast, she saw Ezekiel Stokes motion to the other three men to undress. What new degradation did he have in mind?

He pushed his foot into the side of his wife's ass, and she toppled over on the floor, onto her side. Abigail stared up at her husband's towering black physique as he, too, stripped. His mighty cock stuck out like a gigantic flagpole, and with the large pink knob on the end, it resembled a flagpole.

Susan was amazed at the sight of the phallus. It dwarfed her father's. No human pussy could hold the full length of that immense log.

Abigail stared at the erection, too. Where she had disdained the evil phallus of her first husband, she worshiped the huge dick attached to this man, her second husband. He didn't use his penis evilly, as her first husband had done. Each time he probed into her with any part of it, he cleansed her body and soul of the evils seeping into her.

Reaching down, Stokes entwined his fingers in his wife's hair and tugged her erect. His throbbing penis smacked her face and she kissed it on both sides. Finally she opened her mouth and took the immense bowsprit between her lips, sucking softly on the ebony meat. Stokes gently began pushing more and more of his great prod into her mouth. It seemed to swell as it went in, filling her cheeks, making them puff out. The glans of his phallic extension was the size and thickness of a Baldwin apple. Its rich, gamey taste made Abigail's mouth salivate with the need for more of it. Her sputum drooled all over the mighty penal wand as if it were some kind of rare steak.

Susan saw one of the other men move behind her mother and press his hand into her pouting pussy.

Abigail felt her rosy pussylips being spread wide apart as a finger pressed the hard, throbbing nubbing of her aching clitoris.

"Mmmmmoooommmphhhh… " Abigail muttered, letting the hand in her pussy know she wanted more. This was her punishment for even daring to feel any kind of lust inside her. She had to be reamed out by all these phalluses, until her vaginal chamber was so sore she would have paid for her lustful cravings. Ira, her first husband, had contributed to these wicked licentious cravings by making her want more for the sake of enjoying it. Ezekiel, her present husband, understood all. When he pushed his heavy cock into her mouth, her cunt, or her ass, it was to punish her and push the evil cravings out. As the big Black finger pushed into her tight pussy, she writhed her cunt around and around. Frantically she pushed her head lower on her husband's thrusting cock, nibbling at the huge prick with her teeth while she licked it with her tongue. She had to coax that orgasm out of him and fill her mouth with his gism.

She heard Stokes moan and then shove more of his throbbing meat into her mouth, feeling the bulbous head now press into her throat, widely opening her esophagus. It made her gag and choke. Good! The more he shoved into her throat, the more it hurt her, the more she would pay for the evil invading her body. It filled her mouth and gullet, pressing against her pharynx, cutting off all air. She had to breathe through her nose, inhaling frantically, smelling the musky scent of her husband's pelvis. Her head frenetically turned and twisted as it fitted the full length of hard cock all the way down her throat.

Susan watched as Stokes jammed his groin closer to his wife's face, grinding his prong all the way in, then tugging it all the way back. How could her mother bear to do such things?

Abigail felt the heavy flesh plunging ever deeper, clogging her gullet completely, blocking off all air from her larynx, and only the strongest kind of self-control kept her from retching. Had she vomited, she might have strangled to death on her own upchuck, what with the way Stokes's throbbing mass of meat so totally plugged her throat. Her eyes were glued to the wiry hairs on his dark pubis as they moved toward her, then away, toward her, then away. Each time the hairs approached her, she felt another thrust of his weighty log as it eased itself into the tight, clutching depths of her narrow esophagus.