TABOO TALES(erotica)

“Hell no, and especially after what I’ve read in the papers for the last few years.”

“Well, unfortunately she chose the wrong priest. He decided he could use this juicy bit of information to blackmail Jennifer. He figured she’d come across with the goods so he propositioned her one night – said that she’d burn in hell if she didn’t leave me, and that he could teach her to love again… or something along those lines. He even suggested a time and place to start her personal tuition.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“What did she do?”

“Shoved him backwards over a table and told him to keep his pious little prick in his pants.”

Rose threw back her head and laughed. “Sounds like my kind of girl.”

“Yeah, right. But then the hate mail started, and the jobs dried up. She was ostracised in the streets and the house was vandalised. Nothing to pin it to him, of course, but we know who it was.”

“And you couldn’t go to the police.”

“No, for obvious reasons.” David sighed. “I guess we could have put up with it, or perhaps moved away. We were talking about what to do when the assault happened.”

Rose went still. “What assault?”

“Four people kidnapped her on the way back home one night and they tied her up and cut off her hair. They intended to tar and feather her… you know, the old medieval treatment to humiliate someone? Fortunately they decided that pouring boiling pitch on her head would kill her so they stripped her naked, pissed all over her and ran her out of town.” He stopped suddenly, the emotion welling up as he remembered that night. The little figure lying in a hospital bed her face as white as the bandages; the words she had said to him in her fear and confusion: words as jagged as shards of glass. It had robbed them of eleven years of happiness – eleven years that could never be brought back. And then he had searched for her and, though a miracle, they had come back together. And now –

“I’m so sorry, David.” Rose’s hand was on his arm and her eyes were soft with concern. “Nobody should ever have to put up with that.”

“We clawed it back,” he said and his voice was husky with emotion. “After years apart, we found each other and started again – here, where we thought it was safe.” He shook his head. “And it was, until a couple of weeks ago.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Jen went into one of the local churches for a friend’s christening.” He smiled ruefully. “The first she’d been into since that night. It seemed safe enough – a small parish during the day. The priest was young – new to the job, so his boss decided to come along to officiate.”

“The same one,” Rose guessed. “He came back.”

David shrugged. “It was probably just a coincidence. He’s a Bishop now -‘ his voice turned bitter. “The Most Reverend John S. Tobias. I ran a few checks on him… nothing concrete, but there are whispers that he hasn’t changed – you know, still talking young parishioners into giving money or sexual favours. Needless to say, nothing ends up with the church, and he’s still a senior member of the faith.” He stared into his drink for a moment, reflecting the injustice of it all. “You’d like to think that someone, somewhere, would have figured that he’s a bad egg… that the catholic church would have dealt with him. But -‘ he shook his head. “Anyway, when Jen saw him she fainted and was carted off in an ambulance. He has that much effect on her.”

“But he can’t be a threat to her now, surely? Now that you know who he is. You’ve got influence, David – you’re not a young guy just starting out.”

“I said much the same to Jen,” David replied. “And she said an interesting thing: ‘he’ll come after me because he enjoyed it’. I didn’t believe her, until a couple of weeks ago.”

“What happened?”

“He broke into our house. I’m sure it was him, though I can’t prove it because the security system was playing up. The silent alarm didn’t work and only one of the cameras was functioning, and it didn’t show his face – but I know it was him… the way he walks, his shape and figure. Besides, who breaks into a house in Toorak and spends most of the time in the bedroom without taking anything?”

“Does your sister know?”

David shook his head. “She knows we had a break-in, but I didn’t share my thoughts. She’s a bright girl though, and she’s probably figured it out.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“I don’t know,” David said. “But for a Bishop to break into someone’s house shows he’s serious. He hates her, Rose, and he’s a zealot which makes him doubly dangerous – you know, he’s instrument of the Lord’s revenge and all that. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I don’t intend to sit around to find out.

Rose thought for a moment. She could relate to what Jennifer Griffiths had been through, even though her circumstances had been different. Violence against women was abhorrent and she had no doubt of the truth of David’s story. And she’d seen men of the cloth in her agency, setting aside their accoutrements before rutting on the bed like animals; and the thing was, the next day they’d happily pass judgement on fornicators and sinners in their congregations. She had no aspirations of the sanctity of the church or of those who administered it, and a zealot was the most unpredictable and dangerous of enemies.

And as for David and his relationship with his sister – she’d seen men role playing in her chambers, pretending the girl was a sibling or a mother, but it wasn’t her job to judge. If David and Jennifer Griffiths were happy together and nobody got hurt, that was their business.

“So what can I do to help?” she asked simply.

David nodded in gratitude. “I was hoping that Bishop Tobias might be known to you… that is, he might be a client.”

“And if he was?”

“Well – just maybe you had a video of him doing something he shouldn’t, or perhaps a couple of photos?” He glanced at Rose’s face. “I don’t want money from him – I just want to warn him off.”

“I’ll have a look. And how much do you think that might be worth, if I did?”

David shrugged. “Damned if I know – this business is new to me. Name a fair price.”

“Ten thousand. In used notes.”

“Done.” He smiled in relief. “I rather thought it would be more.”

“It should be,” Rose said, “but I don’t like bullies and you’re a friend, so that’s just to cover expenses. I’ll give you a call when I have something.”

*

That evening Rose Mulquinney sat in the booth to watch one of her girls fucking.

She was in a secret alcove set behind the wall of the main bedroom that enjoyed an unimpeded view of the king-sized bed beyond. The one-way mirror through which she gazed was wide enough for two or three people to sit and watch the action, but today she was on her own, leaning forward slightly to observe the two bodies moving on the bed. The big video camera to her right hummed quietly, capturing everything she could see and hear for future use.

The lights in the bedroom were dimmed but the room was bright enough to observe every detail. Rose allowed her eyes to move over the girl’s body as she lowered herself onto the erect shaft of the figure beneath her. She could see the fine sheen of sweat on her golden skin and the gleam of moisture on her soft, pouting lips, and she observed her honey coloured eyes bright with lust as they gazed back at her, knowing that she was there and positioning her body to give the very best view of her coupling. Millie was one of the best – not just for her looks but because she really enjoyed the work too.

The man was on his back, his steadying hands on her waist as she impaled herself on him. Her black hair moved languorously about her face and her full breasts swayed slightly as her body moved, the nipples erect with desire. Rose watched as the glistening shaft of his cock glided into the girl’s body, levering aside the thick lips of her vulva. She could see how wet she was, too – the juices leaking out, coating the shaft as it plunged into her, frothing to a white cream where their flesh met.

Rose shifted in the seat slightly, opening her thighs and pushing her hips forward. Her hand moved to her crotch and her fingers brushed lightly over the thin, wet fabric of her pants. She slipped her hand under the elastic and touched herself, her fingertips pressing lightly against her clitoris before edging downwards to enter the warmth of her pussy. She could feel the jolt of electricity the contact gave, the sudden suffusion of lust. How many times had she sat in this same chair, pleasuring herself as she watched her girls servicing carefully selected citizens of the city? When the man was important, as this one was, she would film him performing, placing the tape in the big safe in the corner as insurance for the future. And sometimes she would feel a special bond with the girl… almost as if the thick rod in her body was gliding into her own wet channel. She felt it now, and it stirred her.

She leaned forward, her lips slightly open and her breath panting softly. Millie was moving more quickly now, her body responding to what was happening, and Rose could see the discharge of their fucking – a testament to the girl’s growing excitement. She watched as the man lifted his head and suckled her right breast, his lips closing over the nipple to tease it, and through the speakers above her head she heard their coupling: the sighs of pleasure and the soft wet sucking of the girl’s pussy as it gripped and released him.