The Ministry Ch. 03

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A fantasy thriller about a missing daughter.
5.6k words
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/10/2022
Created 07/10/2010
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*NB: this chapter is told from the view point of Ashley*

There was something about Vespa that made me happy, but I just could not place it. When she brought us food and was sitting so close to me I felt at ease, as if she was someone I trusted. I believed in fate and the supernatural because it was such an important part of my life growing up. My mother was a mystic and always spoke to strangers as if she knew them. She was a special woman and I could sense Vespa was the same. Every time she brushed up against me I had to respond in kind, I could not afford to treat her in any way other than she wanted. I was so glad we met the girls like we did, because I needed someone to talk to. My son was great but I could not tell him I was raped by two men in brown robes. I could not tell him, that they also lived in our lodgings. I'm not sure which room but I did not want revenge. When I had my shower they were in there with me. One recognized me as he was soaping his body and tapped his friends shoulder. They both smiled and waved and then jerked off in front of me.

"Is your ass still sore?" One asked.

I turned away and kept to myself. I was thankful there were others around otherwise I may have been raped again.

Somehow, I shut them out of my mind long enough to get some sleep. My son was being great and let me embrace him with all my heart. Could he feel it beating? I could feel his. He was very hard below so I trapped his big cock between my legs. I did not want him to think I knew because he is easily embarrassed, but so am I. Everything about him is big and that makes me proud. He has big hands, a big cock which should please the ladies and a long tongue like mine. Of course it felt a bit awkward at first, lying naked with my son but then I just melted into him after a while and dropped off to sleep.

He might have to shave my pussy soon so I'm not looking forward to that. As I was saying, meeting the girls changes a few of the dynamics surrounding our investigation.

Usma seemed to connect with my son right off the bat. After we ate and they suggested we go to the stream, I had to agree. I enjoyed the games we played – just acting silly and childish was therapeutic. Vespa clung to me on the way to the tree's. She told me she would be waiting in the middle. I didn't want to cheat on my son like that but I felt like playing along to see where it could lead. A good investigator watches everything unfold seamlessly, so there is no need to force anything. I started off a little edgy though and threatened to compromise our cover.

I was foolish to shave my pussy by myself but I had no idea these people had powers. At least the red ones. When I was in the middle tree and Vespa pulled me in, I almost felt like I was being handled by my ex-husband. He used to hold me with such confidence and I forgot how much I miss that. She was so tall and so slim, like a supermodel, yet she was deceptively strong.

she made the flesh under my chin feel funny, and my knees a bit wobbly. I knew it wasn't love – how could it be? I grew up knowing my mother batted for both sides in a town where the church ruled our lives. I guess thats why she became a mystic. Sometimes the wrong messages can only drive us further away, into places and passions we might not otherwise have gone.

I don't know where I went, but was very fortunate to have a mother that gave me a choice. I was never into girls and nothing has changed, which is why I am trying to place Vespa. Where can she be allocated? When she held my face, I instinctively knew that I had to open my mouth. I waited mouth agape for her, even though it was not instructed and we were in the middle of a silly game, I waited and took long deep breaths like a gecko in a hot dry desert. Vespa smiled and drew her mouth in just over mine before spitting inside. It was the biggest thrill I ever felt. My first reaction I admit was surprise. strange thing to say when you open you're mouth out and present it to someone who is nearly holding you up off the floor.

Maybe what I did was symbolic of our growing bond. How I responded to her was a consequence of earlier actions on her behalf, after all, she was the one who brought me food earlier. I was like her child; a chick in the nest wanting my mothers beak to open.

Somehow, I married the issue of sexual frustration with maternal longing, both of which seemed fairly vacant from my life, even before Lisa's abduction. But Just because I had not had sex in so long it did not mean I was suddenly gay or desperate. In the past, I had listened to my son beat off in his room when he thought he was alone in the house and it bothered me, because one of us had to be the responsible one.

There were times when it was difficult, and in weaker moments I found myself walking into se shops and sometimes coming out with the odd kinky accessory. I had bought quite a few dildo's and was fascinated by them but never used any. I just didn't think it was appropriate for me to be scrubbing the walls of my pussy with a detached rubber cock in my room just in case Rob walked in on me. I imagined it was the sort of image he did not want and could effect him in a bad way. My ex admitted he sometimes he had images of his mother manifest while we were having intercourse, so, the same could happen to Rob maybe. I was thankful then that I had limited him to seeing less of me in a way that could compromise our relationship.

Coming here jeopardized that somewhat. I felt closer to my son – really close; like best buddies. When you feel close to someone you can become dangerously attached to them and highly dependent. They feel like your property, but my son IS my property.

As a guilty pleasure, I heard him jacking off many times and it was the sound of someone really enjoying himself. I took sick days at work just to hide in the house and try and listen. I never once touched my pussy. But I was always thinking about it. If you allow your sexual desires to mount, can they erupt when you least expect them to?

Vespa was trying to find out. She had seduced me without having spoken any words. I was so weak, i succumbed to her touch. I liked the way she just grabbed me and treated me like I was nothing and her two faces were fascinating. In front of my son she acted differently – like she did not want him to know her true intentions. Usma was the same. But the way they were presenting themselves to me ... was that real? I had to dig further.

I had to be more careful though, because, when I trust people, I start revealing my entire life to them – all the dirty laundry comes out, all in one basket.

When we hurled my son into the mud pond and Usma suggested we run back to the room, I was so caught up in the game, I followed behind but my ass was hurting so I stopped. Usma carried on and Vespa promised to stay behind. She said "Hold my hand." and I wanted to make feel happy so I reached out and held it even though I was complaining I could not run, she said "Shhh." and gazed into my eyes.

"I know." She said.

"How?" I asked, guessing she was on the right page.

"The way you walk. Sometimes you wince and you don't strike me as a submissive woman. In fact, I know you do not like to be dominated."

"Really?" I was so confused. She could read the expressions on my face even if the light bulb died.

She knew I had been raped. she was right, I was not submissive. Sometimes, powerful minds suffer lapses of weakness, when they are as vulnerable as the next person. My behavior was probably a result of trauma; shock of being aggressively raped and mentally dismantled. Suddenly I retreated into my shell for the first time, into a form I only remember filling as a child.

My mother would only open up to me. I was like her human diary. She didn't keep anything hidden, she made sure I swept the roads clean (in her head) and I was like the rubbish bin. I told Vespa that my mother had an opinion on incest regarding its lines and where they were drawn. She was an avid voyeur, like her brother and together they would watch their parents fucking. When her brother was older, he started to have sex with girls and my mother liked to watch him fuck them. When they were both married, my mum increased the stakes and would visit him and sit in the same room while he fucked women. She did not consider it incest. Even when she circled his nipples with her toe throughout an entire session she did not consider it incest. Incest was simply penetration.

I told Vespa this.

"I can smell gay and you are not gay, or bi." She told me, dismissing any possible protest. I was almost disappointed I didn't make the grade. I felt rejected and wanted to show her she was wrong, but then that would be a manifestation of a false struggle; wanting to prove something just to show someone they had to think carefully before estimating you correctly.

"Come." she said.

I started to walk – I did it for her. When she walked with me, she wanted to stare into my eyes but I would sometimes look away or try to look busy.

"There are three other types of robe you know." She told me.

"Apart from brown & red?"

"Yes."

"In what order?"

"Blue robes; Yellow robes and ... black robes."

She squeezed my hand and slowed down for me. I never wanted her to let go. She wasn't sure exactly, but knew that they had abilities. The black robes were never seen. They did not even make rare appearances. Only yellow robes had seen them. The higher the rank, the fewer the number of positions held. Usma figured there were 10 yellow robes. Only one had made an appearance so far. His name was Dalrich.

"Apparently he can fly." She said. Maybe to scare me, I wasn't sure, so I tightened my grip on her. I was hurting her but she kept a straight face. If she was right he could be flying overhead, spying on us.

That was what appealed to Vespa, that's why she joined in the first place, and Usma was just tagging along.

The winds seemed to pick at night, being on an island that was a common thing. It was hard to trust you're footing on the ground when you couldn't tell the shadows from the holes. We made it back to my lodging and did not run into my attackers.

She turned around and held my face.

"What?" I asked softly.

"You are sleeping with me tonight." She said and she wasn't asking.

I nodded.

She was young enough to be my daughter and I was submitting to her. She seemed strong like those two men yesterday. I opened my mouth again – this time I wanted it. She pressed my mouth hard and spat inside. I closed my mouth and swallowed it all down.

"You are something else." She laughed.

Maybe I was a slave?

The word, in a sexual context, had many variations. What was mine? It was possible I transcended orientation. If my main area of stimulation was submission, could I still be categorized as gay, bi, or straight? Did having homosexual labels offend me? Being something and trying it, were two different things. If I was so turned on by Vespa, I could still be straight. I had never been excited by women, and felt nothing for Usma, despite the way she dressed. I could see she was however, making an impression on my son. I didn't like her but needed to be alone with Vespa.

When we were inside, Usma was getting hyper and pacing around the room talking about how much fun she had tonight. Me and my Vespa sat down and were already reading each others minds. We couldn't wait to get rid of her. I belonged to Vespa now, and Usma would just have to get used to it.

I interlocked my hand with hers and Vespa sang me a few very old songs. I was so enthralled by her knowledge of the lyrics. She was truly gifted.

"I will only do it for you." she whispered in my ear.

Usma clapped and hugged Vespa. She had known Vespa for a long time and had only ever heard her sing in the bathroom. It didn't matter when a song was written, truth in words were timeless. She just found more truth in the period she focussed on. The sincerity in her tone had me wishing she had written those songs, had me almost believing it.

"Are you serenading me?" I asked somewhat embarrassed.

"I'm trying." She admitted.

Knowing she wanted me kept me on a leash, but hearing her confess it, gave me back some of the power I had lost over the last 24hrs. It was almost as if I was snapping out of a spell she had cast. She gave a discerning look as I straightened my previously hunched back.

"My son ..." I blurted.

The sudden concern was in keeping with a fading poison. I derailed my fingers from Vespa and leaned away from her.

"Chill out bitch" Usma spoke like it was acceptable.

"Usma." Vespa said sternly.

"Whatever. Sowie. I get excited."

"Apology accepted."

She came over and hugged me and pouted her lips. I leaned forward and met her lips with mine. The kiss was for apologies. She had a sharp beak and a pea sized brain and I would die before letting my son marry someone like her, but he could fuck her if he wanted.

Vespa's face was like thunder when she saw us kiss because Usma was trying to interfere with her. Usma gave a sly grin and put her hands up halfway, and backed away. Vespa then turned to me, somewhat hurt and pissed off. Her jealous expression pushed me back down into her realm, and I was intoxicated; my momentary recovery, merely a temporary illusion. Or possibly a minutes awakening from comatose – waking up in the hospital bed at night, when no one was around to see that I was back. Only to be dragged away again. The devil could show such sights my local pastor would say. To hear him speak, you would not think he was a man of god, but something evil. He talked evil down like the lord wanted but had a tone on him and an expression that was contrary. Once, the power went in our home and he was passing by outside. Our house was outside of town but near the church, so I assumed he came by to check if we were okay. I looked down and caught him looking up. There was only enough light to see his outline. The creepy thing was he did not knock or ring the bell, he just stood looking up at me.

When I was young I got scared easily. I could sit up and stare at what I thought was something disfigured in my room, or around the house, for hours. I was afraid that if I moved or closed my eyes it would grab my feet and pull me away to some place where I could not scream.

I would stare in the hope that it would move but it never moved. Sometimes, I was brave and would turn on my lamp, only to find I was seeing things or that what I was afraid of for the last hour was a jacket on a chair, or some clothing hooked up by the door by a hanger.

Vespa was talking to Usma when I saw her hand was free – so I took it. We interlocked again. She was really pleased and a little bit apprehensive for a moment but I scooted up against her and all bad vibes were soon expelled.

"Can you smell that?" Usma said sniffing.

It was was a tad earthy.

She opened the door and there stood swamp thing!

"Didn't you guys hear me?" My son said

Usma laughed and led him in. If he was mad it was hard to tell. The mud had encased him and his penis was looking very big under those layers. He looked down at it himself and then Usma wrapped her hand round it and stroked it. He jumped back a little in surprise.

"Son?" I called out.

He sidestepped the flirt Usma and trudged up to me.

"What?"

"The girls want to stay over. Do you mind?"

"We only have one bed?" He reminded me.

"Then two of us can go back to they're room ... maybe you and Usma." I suggested.

He agreed.

"Oh, and take a shower in Usma's lodging." I asked him.

There was no complaint and within a minute both were out of the door.

***

After we were finally alone, we decided to take a quick shower together, though I was still a bit shy and preferred if we soaped one another only. She could see my reservations come through on my stiff neck – it just would not relax while we there. She tried massaging my neck but the tension was too overpowering. We washed each other down quickly and rushed back to our room, all excited having really enjoyed soaping her pussy and ass. I praised the size of her vagina and slim figure but she a bit funny about me getting carried away.

"I ... don't like compliments." She said with a red face.

I turned off the light and disrobed. She caught the outline of my body and gasped. Even though she had seen my naked body in the shower, the mood had changed. We had both shaken off the tension and were in the mood for love. She asked me to just pose for her for a bit and I tried some photo shoot favorites.

"I will try to think of compliments that do not embarrass you then." I replied.

She opened the covers and I crawled in. She was skinny so it felt less cramped than when I slept with my son yesterday. The other difference was that we were both naked and huddling together and it was nice. I wondered if I would do that with my son?

Even though we huddled, I felt like she was holding me.

"You trust me already?" Vespa said breathing on me.

"Sometimes I am compelled to go by instinct." I explained.

I shifted to face her. I hoped she would spit in my mouth again. I opened my mouth but she stroked my face and kissed my lower lip instead.

"Remember you said your mother spoke to strangers like she knew them?"

"Yes ..."

"What if she had met them all before when she was younger, except they looked different?"

"Like in another life perhaps?"

"Like ... in the same life?"

"I don't know."

"What I'm trying to say is ... you trust me so much already. We only met today."

"I know."

"How do you know we haven't met before in this life, but I was someone else?"

"Like who?"

"Not sure – like your local pastor? How do you know I'm not him?"

Her face took on many transformations in the darkness and my heart started to palpitate a little. Her very touch suddenly made me uneasy, when just moments ago I was lusting for it. I was where the beast wanted me; in its lair, under its control. Vespa was able to manipulate the shadows around her to change her form, and her personality. My mother had warned me about such things but I never listened. Still, even if Vespa was kidding around, I was not impressed.

"I can show you such sights my dear little Ashley." A manly voice whispered.

I began to feel a bit strange after hearing that because I had heard it before in my youth, from a man who decided who was condemned and who was saved.

"No." I muttered in a low hush, my neck beginning to stiffen.

I felt the pastor wrap his chords around my neck. He licked my nose and understood that if slavery transcended orientation, then necrophilia was in the same boat.

"Ashley?"

He shook me and then called my name again – told me he would be back.

I felt his lips against mine and they felt good.

"Baby you're scaring me." Vespa said.

It was Vespa. I turned on the light and touched her face.

"Its me honey. its me."

"Can we keep the light on?" I requested.

"Of course you can sweetheart." She pulled me into her and I wrapped my leg over hers. I hooked an arm over her back and rubbed my rug against hers. I desperately had to fuck Vespa.

We kissed each other gently and delicately for a long time. She tasted so sweet and was so horny it made me hornier.

"Lets shed some more light." She said throwing off the covers.

She mounted me and I opened my legs out so she could press her trimmed rug against mine. She began pushing pussy on pussy and fucking me – slapping her vulva against mine. She rubbed and gyrated and lowered herself to plant wet kisses, sometimes even bite me.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you." She whispered.

"I will." I replied..

Vespa slammed her rug into me with great aggression and it made my pussy wet.

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