My Neighbor Ch. 5

As Chapter 4 came to a close, Peter was giving a pool party. Present were Melanie and her daughter in law Dottie, his black friend Harvey, Becky and her husband the Reverend Robert Palmer, and Joe and Susan Palmer, parishioners of the Reverend's church. The party has just begun.

* * * * *

The atmosphere at pool party that evening was more than a little bit strained. Only Peter and Harvey were in a jovial mood. They had enjoyed their football game almost as much as the quart of whiskey they had shared before, during, and after the action on the field. More than football and the liquor though, they were positively beside themselves over a surprise something that they obviously thought was going to be great fun. I hadn't a clue about what they were enjoying so, but I did wonder how they had managed to drive home from Cleveland as drunk and as giddy as they were.

Everyone else, however, was really up tight. I could understand poor Becky's discomfort at visiting her sexual master's home in the company of her husband. Dottie and I were equally uneasy. To start with, we were embarrassed to be marked as a pair of whores by our slutty costumes and the dog collars around our necks. Moreover, we were afraid that whatever was in the wind, eventually we would be forced into something more than just seeming to be ten dollar hookers. Thus, ashamed of our appearance, and uncertain about what might be expected of us, we each tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Joe and Susan Palmer were also decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine why, but the air between the couple and the Reverend Angle was thick with a tension and hostility. The Palmers and he not only didn't speak to each other, a sheet of ice separated them. The Reverend would not look either Palmer in the eye, although Joe Palmer was almost constantly staring daggers at him. All this was strange. The Palmers were very active parishioners in the Angle's church. Susan was the choir leader, Joe a Sunday school teacher, and they both had been close social friends of Robert and Rebecca.

The food left behind by the caterers was excellent, and the liquor flowed freely, but the open anger that surrounded the Palmers eased very little, if any at all. After everyone finished eating, Peter turned on the pool patio TV and VCR. A tape was already in the machine, and it wasn't a Walt Disney movie. There in living color, naked on the big leather couch in the Church rectory, was Samantha, the eighteen year old daughter of the Palmers. Between her legs licking frantically at her young pussy was the balding head of an equally naked The Right Reverend Robert Palmer.

So this was what Peter was hinting at the other evening while he was tormenting Rebecca about her husband and how horny he might be.

The TV tape seemed to go on and on endlessly. We all sat and watched without comment, mesmerized by the graphic sex on the screen. It was one of those 'the emperor has no clothes' situations where no one had the guts to acknowledge what we all saw..., the Reverend's talented tongue stroking up and down her slit of a delighted teenage Samantha Palmer. The sound track wasn't as good as the picture, but it was clear enough to hear the girl frantically beg over and over for her spiritual councilor to "please..., please..., please fuck me now."

Fuck her he did, and even when he ejaculated in that teen cunt, no one around Peter's pool still did or said anything. We all sat there immovable and mute, watching Samantha suck her lover's undersized prick to a renewed erection for a second round in their game of 'cock-in-the-hole.' Samantha was certainly a precocious little slut. Twice fucked, she orgasmed over and over, and she wasn't the least bashful in describing to her older lover all dirty erotic things she wanted done to her.

I couldn't help but think to myself, "God honey, if you think this is good, just wait till some stud with a real prick gets a hold of your pussy." Still, small dick or not, the Reverend had an accomplished and enthusiastic wiggle to his ass, and by the time the tape ended twenty minutes or so later, Samantha was a well fucked young lady.

While the tape was still playing, I checked out those sitting around me looking for their reaction. Becky was just sitting there glassy eyed while her preacher husband was slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands, refusing to even look at the pornographic show he and his young paramour were putting on. Over on the couch, Joe Palmer was so flushed he looked as if he was ready to explode. His wife had a firm hand on his arm as if to restrain him from rushing over to beat the erring preacher to death.

Finally, just as the tape was ending and the Reverend was spilling his seed into Samantha's pussy for the second time, Joe Palmer could stand it no more.

"You son of a bitch!" Joe screamed. "You psalm singing hypocritical son of a bitch. She's still in high school, barely eighteen years old, and you, you bastard, you go and stick your dirty sanctimonious dick in her. I would kill you, but that would be too easy on you. I want you to suffer you child fucking piece of dirt."

"Please, Please...," Robert Angle began as he slipped from his chair and onto his knees facing the irate father. "This will ruin me. It will ruin my family. My Bishop mustn't know, and, please, please don't go to the police. I couldn't face going to jail. I know what I did was wrong, very wrong. I have sinned against Samantha. I have sinned against my wife and children. I have sinned against God. I am human and I have committed a human sin, overcome by my lust in a moment of weakness. It won't ever happen again, I promise. I'll get professional treatment. I'll move away to another church. I'll pay you. I'll do anything you want, but please God, this must not get out. If this is made public, I'll kill myself."

The angry Joe Palmer turned his back on the pleading preacher. His only answer was a bitter, "As I give a damn."

That was when Peter spoke up. "No Reverend, you won't need to kill yourself. I have convinced Mr. Palmer here that it would be in no ones's interest for this bit of dirty linen to be washed in public, least of all that of his wife and daughter. No, Reverend we have agreed on a different kind of punishment, one more biblical..., you know, an eye for an eye, and the redemption of sin through penitence and chastisement..., all that bible stuff. You do believe in the bible don't you Reverend?" Peter asked mockingly.

Reverend Archer said only "Of course." His face was a pasty white and he was beginning to cry.

Peter continued, "That's good, but I'm afraid for a sin so black and heinous, your penitence will require a very severe and painful chastisement, and your punishment should fit the crime. You sinned while naked. Your crime was sexual. You must do your penitence naked, and your chastisement must be sexual."

The preachers expression was blank with lack of understanding as he waited for his fate to be explained. Peter paused for a moment to let his words sink in before he went on.

"A few minutes from now you are going to strip yourself bare, as naked as you were when you were abusing Samantha's childish trust. You will then show your contrition by humbly kneeling before Mrs. Palmer and asking her to punish you for what you have done. This will be the first test of your rehabilitation. You must ask her, beg her, to make you suffer. You must convince the Palmers how sorry you are that you screwed their daughter. You must make them believe that you are truly repentant and willing to pay for your crime. If they are not satisfied with your sincerity..., well..., then maybe the Bishop and the police SHOULD handle this mater. On the other hand, if you are sufficiently eloquent, Joe will hang you by your wrists from that gym bar over there where his wife will cane your naked body severely..., with special attention I am sure to that offending little cock of yours."

Reverend Angle looked sick. "Please, Please...," he began but Peter quickly interrupted.

"No, preacher," Peter said sternly, "if you don't want to be punished by the church and in the courts; if you don't want this sorry story in the headlines of the newspapers; then you must accept punishment from the Palmers personally. Do you understand that? Do you understand I am not negotiating your penitence, I am dictating it?"

"Yes, I understand," came the reply of a man now clearly crushed and defeated.

"Lets see, where was I when this baby fucker so rudely interrupted me," Peter asked, smirking all the while. "Oh yes, I believe the sinner in question was being chastised. Well, when Mrs. Palmer has caned you to her satisfaction, you will ask her politely but earnestly to allow you eat her pussy. You certainly enjoyed licking her daughter's cunt. At the least, you can do the same for her mother. Not exactly and eye for and eye, but under the circumstances, a pussy for a pussy will do."

Peter was enjoying himself so much he could hardly keep the gleeful sarcasm out of his voice. "Keep in mind that Susan saw how her daughter got her rocks off on your tongue. You had better perform equally well on her mother because she is looking forward to a similarly enjoyable experience. Otherwise, it will be back to the gym bar with you, where she will start over with the cane again..., and keep on starting over until you get it right."

I looked over at Susan Palmer to see what she thought about this latest condition of the demanded 'penitence.' She was bushing fiercely, but she didn't protest, and I wondered if her flush might have been much in expectation and arousal as embarrassment. I looked back at the Reverend Angle. He was no longer crying. His face was a blank stare now, as if nothing made any difference to him anymore.

Peter paused again for a moment to allow his audience a moment to dwell on the image of Susan Palmer with her legs spread having her pussy eaten, then he continued.

"And Oh yes, as you might expect, Joe is entitled to his fun too. While you are on your knees sucking on Mrs. Palmer's cunt, your wife, Rebecca, will be sucking Joe's male weapon until it is up and loaded. As you worship at Susan's pussy, Joe will keel down behind you. Then, while Susan enjoying her orgasms on your tongue, you will reach back and spread the cheeks of your buttocks, inviting Joe to bugger your ass hole with the hard-on your wife Rebecca has just given him. When he has finished raping your bowel, and filled it with his cum, you will turn around, thank him."

I thought our distressed preacher was going to faint. Slowly he began to shake his head from side to side repeating "No, No, No...," under his breath.

"Oh but yes, yes!" Peter told him. "Remember, this is not a deal we are making here. It is an alternative, and the only one you have. You stole something that Joe and Susan Palmer loved. It is only justice that they do the same to you. The something you love of course would be Rebecca. It is now their turn to use her for their pleasure..., just as you used their daughter for yours."

"Anyway there is more. Although I am sure Joe will enjoy having your wife's sweet lips around his dick sucking him hard to rape your ass, such a passing interlude is not nearly enough repayment. Simple fairness requires that the Joe and his wife have generous opportunities to enjoy the considerable favors of your lovely wife. Therefore, after Joe has sodomized your ass and mouth, Becky can begin to work off your debt to the Palmers by serving as Joe's whore. Unfortunately, sometimes the innocent must suffer right along with the guilty."

"Oh God No....." the Reverend Archer attempted to object.

Peter ignored the interruption. "And, do not suppose that this one evening's entertainment will pay the debt you owe to parents of the child you defiled. You have been regularly fucking the Palmer girl after junior choir practice every Tuesday night for the last six months. The schedule and term of your penitence and chastisement will be the same. Every Tuesday night for the next six months, you will present yourself naked in the church rectory in order that Joe and Susan Palmer may beat and sexually abuse you for two hours each evening."

Peter could not even try to hide his enthusiasm for the next torment he had in mind to for the guilty preacher. "And on each such evening, your wife must be there also, as naked as yourself, and as you watch, the Palmers will use Becky for their mutual pleasure. Although only a substitute, it is unfortunate but inevitable that your wife will likely bear the brunt of the Palmer's attentions. As unfair and inequitable as this may be, it is Becky's misfortune to be a sexy and attractive woman while your head is bald, your body scrawny, and your prick small. I think you would agree, however, that in some way your suffering ought to be at least the equal of hers. After all, Reverend, you are the one who is directly doing penitence. Therefore, if the humiliation of watching your loving wife fucked in her every hole is not enough, Joe and Susan have planned various subtle artifices to raise the level of your discomfort."

Reverend Archer was back to shaking his head in denial, but Peter ignored him, and continued with a look of some considerable satisfaction written over his face.

"Tell me Reverend, do you think you will enjoy the taste of Joe's cum when you clean it out of Becky's cunt with your tongue? Do you suppose the load you lick out of Becky will taste the same as the one Susan makes you suck from her slit after Joe has fucked her? Have you ever watched Becky eat another woman's pussy? How will your wife respond to Joe's and his cock? What do you think, Reverend? Will Joe so arouse your wife that she will she beg him to pleasure her cunt...? with his finger...? with his mouth...? with his cock?"

Peter was making no secrete of his glee as he continued to torment poor Reverend Archer. "Preacher man, I'm sure he will give you, and her, every opportunity to find out. Interesting questions! Will Becky orgasm when Joe butt fucks her. Will it help if you lick her clit while Joe's cock is buried deep in her ass? Joe hopes so, and for your sake, I hope so too."

Peter paused for a moment to stare at his distraught victim. "You have a decidedly sick look on your face Reverend, and you haven't even heard it all yet. For example, has Becky ever squatted over another man's cock while you helped by inserting it into your wife's pussy for her? No..., well now you will. Just imagine the view you will have as your wife's impales herself, and her pussy lips stretch around Joe's pole, taking him all the way up her twat. Or, have you ever licked the underside of a penis as it fucks in and out of Becky's accommodating slit? If not, I'm certain you will have every chance to learn the technique. And, surely you will enjoy taking Joe's cock up your own ass once again..., and again..., and then again. All that will only be the beginning, of course, but won't it be fun? Almost as much fun as screwing a high school girl I'll bet."

"But..., but...," Reverend Angle stammered, "Rebecca is a good Christian woman. She won't do this. Only a complete slut would."

"Oh you fool! Your wife is a slut ," Peter answered. "You were so busy fucking high school pussy, you didn't notice that your lovely red headed Christian wife has filling her hole with another man's prick, one a lot bigger and more satisfying than your own I might add. Here, let me show you what a tramp your wife really is, and who owns her."

With that, Peter stood up, opened his fly and called, "Rebecca come here."

Becky stood slowly from her chair. She said nothing I could hear, but she was shaking her head from side to side. Her mouth mimed he word, 'No.'

"Yes, Rebecca come here, NOW!!!" Peter repeated.

Although her she continued to shake her head 'no,' she never the less walked slowly to Peter, hoping for a reprieve I'm sure, yet resigned to her fate, until she stood toe to toe with him. A small enigmatic Mona Lisa smile broke slowly across her mouth as she looked up into his eyes and waited.

Peter paused as if savoring the moment. Then he ordered harshly, "On your knees, bitch!!!"

Becky knelt before him in a semi-slow motion collapse, much like the downward plunge of an old building reduced to a pile of bricks by an expert demolition team. Her chin raised as she lowered her body, and her eyes never left Peter's.

"Drop the halter Becky. Show us your breasts." Peters voice was softer, but still commanding.

Becky reached behind her neck and untied the knot that held the straps of her halter top. The halter front fell away leaving her mature breasts nude and on display. Framed by bikini bra tan lines, large red aureoles added a splash of color to the milk white of her fair skin. She was sweating slightly, and under the glare of the pool spotlights her naked flesh glistened with a porcelain sheen. Her nipples had begun to harden. This beautiful red head on her knees, her lovely alabaster breasts bare and shining in the light, her head tossed back looking up at her lover with eyes liquid with awe and worship..., this was a picture so sexy it crossed the line into pornographic.

"Take out my cock, Becky," Peter demanded.

Rebecca's hand went to Peter's open fly and brought out a good nine inches of flaccid man meat. I heard Susan Palmer gasp when she saw its size. Becky waited, gently holding this huge penis in her hand, fearful of going further without instruction.

"Do you want to suck my cock Becky," Peter asked.

"Oh yes, please," came the reply, almost too softly to be heard.

"Beg for it Becky!" was Peter's next command. But, there was more. "Beg me for permission to suck my cock. Your husband is watching Becky. I want him to hear you. Beg me! I want him to know what a slut you are and who owns you now."

The volume of Becky's voice raised as she began, "Oh God, Peter, please let me suck you. Let me taste you. Fuck my mouth, please. Use my throat like a cunt. Stretch my lips and take your pleasure there; then cum in my mouth so that I can swallow your precious gift."

Becky's eyes filled with tears as she begged..., but she before continuing, she turned to address her husband. "Robert I am so sorry that you must watch your wife beg to suck another man's dick, but I can't help myself. It humiliates me to be such a slut, but Peter owns me. I am his love slave. I am in bondage to his big cock. I can deny him nothing."

"Becky," Peter interrupted, "your husband doesn't think that you are tramp enough to service Joe's cock and Susan's pussy in front of him. Tell him how I fuck you. Tell him how I treat you. Tell him what I make you do. Tell him about the cocks and cunts you have already serviced with your pussy, your mouth, and your ass. Tell him how I whip your naked ass when you displease me! All of it! Tell him!"

"He fucks me," Becky began, "Oh yes Robert, how he does fuck me!!" He lays me on my back and forces my knees back against my shoulders. He refuses to stick me with his cock until I beg him for it, then he fills me to the brim, stretching my poor pussy with his meat. Or, he sits me down on his cock makes me take all of him right to his balls. It is both heaven and hell to sit pegged on his hard pole that way, tortured by the crown of his long dick pressing against my womb. I can only sit there helpless, riding his rod, while his fingers twist and pinch my nipples."

"Or, he makes me crawl to him on my elbows and knees. Then with my big tits dangling, rubbing on the floor, my hair hanging over my face, and my ass in he air, he splits me open and rides me from behind like a dog bitch in heat."

"Yes Robert, he fucks my mouth too!! He sits naked in his chair and he makes me kneel or squat between his legs. Sometimes he tells me to rub my clit and jerk myself off as I suck him. Sometimes he ties hands behind my back so that I can use only my lips and tongue. Sometimes, he lays his prick on my tongue to soak in my spit before he fucks my mouth like a cunt. Always I must swallow every drop of his cum."