She would have to decide it was much too big. She would judge that with certainty. He grinned to himself and wormed the tip of it into the snug, resisting little aperture. He could feel the foreskin being stretched back against his long, thick tool and he gave a quick hip-thrusting stab until he could feel it slowly slipping its way into her rectum. She would say to herself, it was all right... it was all right... because she could say nothing else... and by then, he would be well beyond the barrier of the clutching muscle.
His predictions were correct. As his cock ground its way into her nether channel, Kate was seduced by the delicious feelings that her highly sensitive anus gave to her and lulled into a sense of false security. But then, suddenly, without warning, she felt as if a telegraph pole was endeavouring to burst into her body!
She pulled away, but he held her fast and continued.
Her eyes focussed and, to Kate’s acute embarrassment, met those of Ellie. The girl was obviously very excited, the expression she wore was one of great pleasure – a pleasure obviously derived from Kate’s painful experience. The cruel little minx, she thought. Another member of the Fordham family I’ll never trust. At that moment, her tormentor gave another massive thrust and his enormous shaft burrowed even deeper into her entrails.
“Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhh… God almighty! Noooo, nooo, nooo! It hurts!” she cried.
The Reverend Pike grinned excitedly. Silly girl! Of course it hurt. It was supposed to hurt. He signalled to the Handmaidens who quickly and expertly looped four straps over Kate’s wrists and ankles. And then he simply rammed and thrust.
“God, Jesus! It’s too big! It’s going to kill me!” Kate screamed back at him through her tightly clenched teeth, no longer caring a jot what the 'congregation' might think.
But it was there, ever moving inward and now, with such limited powers of mobility, she couldn’t hope to escape it. His thighs thrust hers forward; his arms holding her hips back to his.
Dear Lord, I’m helpless! I can’t move... can’t move... !
“Push back!” he commanded.
She could barely think, but she knew she must react to his words. Every way was pain and more pain. These was not the same sensations as she had experienced when Sir Bradley had penetrated her. She did… she pushed back and opened her arsehole that final quarter inch by deliberate effort because she had been ordered. It was as if she were taking a huge, unrelenting log inside her, stretching her buttocks wider and wider until she thought she would die. His vicious cock surged right into her rectum, solid and extremely painful, but finally better because she had absorbed it all.
“Oh, ohhh, ohhhh,” she gasped.
Suddenly, Kate heard him croon with delight and gasp as he began to saw rhythmically and without the slightest mercy deep up into the soft confines of her back channel.
She dug her nails into her palms, bit at her lower lip, as slowly the pain eased a little, although it was still a mixture of hurtful discomfort and stimulation. She felt strangely wet between her buttocks, and also strangely ashamed. She was being sodomized and she knew it. Kate was not entirely naïve. Mrs Proctor had told her about such things. She tried to concentrate on this thought, but each time her concentrations were destroyed by a skin-splitting thrust which jolted her forward and made her squirm back onto his fleshy stem that was meting out the punishment. Abruptly, she commenced to sense a masochistic joy. The pain was weirdly pleasurable. Her helpless predicament, her exposure to the beady, lustful eyes of her audience… the strangeness of the ritual… all conspired to make this an extraordinarily lubricious experience. She realized she was heaving backwards to meet the forward thrust of his loins. And she was undulating her body and moving her buttocks in tiny circles. She had already begun to feel quite excited through the pain
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