ALL IN THE FAMILY Inspiration Ruth spotted the puddle from ten paces away. Somebody's brat had spilled juice and no one was bothering to clean it up. Where in tarnation is Otis? He's suppose to post in the cafeteria after sunday school. This is his job. She didn't have time for this; church services start in less than forty-five minutes. She raced out of cafeteria to track down Otis, her heels clacking loudly on the faux marble.
She slowed down as she passed the pastor's office. Visualizing the "spiritual inspiration" her husband was receiving caused her stomach to knot. "Aaaahh, yeah." Pastor Billy was thoroughly enjoying his weekly Sunday Delight - naked before the Lord. Only a terry cloth towel separated him from his overstuffed leather office chair. "Mmmmmm," hummed the busty blonde kneeling between his legs, clearly enjoying her work. Her warm, bare breast caressed the pastor's thighs as she moved, heightening his pleasure.
"It's rare to find one so willing to please," thought the pastor. Her tongue was flickering on the head of his penis like a big, red butterfly while her hand lightly cupped his balls. "Yeah, this one was truly a blessing." Her head plunged down on his dick, smothering it in sweet warmth; the feeling radiated throughout his entire pelvis. Slowly she withdrew, the air cooling her warm saliva.
Her tongue was doing a hula dance under the head of his penis as the vacuum of her mouth made maddeningly delicious sucking sounds. Pastor Billy peeled his eyes to look down, seeing only the top of her head lazily bobbing like an oil derrick; no quizzical eyes seeking his approval.
This girl was totally involved in his pleasure. His pulse began to quicken as she held him over the edge; vertigo made the room spin.
He could hold back no more. Grabbing a handful of hair, he held her in place as he plunged deep, his body spasming and jerking as the blowback filled his crotch. Collapsing back into his chair, pastor Billy was feeling divine inspiration. Praise Jesus! Ruth's New Ministry Ruth was completely frazzled by the time she reached the supply room. Otis was going to get an earful, she told herself as she stepped in. "Wha-?" The shock overhelmed her at first. Her brain couldn't register the images her eyes were sending back to it.
A huge black man was stroking his gigantic cock with one hand; the other pressing a pair of pink panties over his mouth and nose, muffling barely audible grunts. Euphoria beamed from his face as his head tilted back in almost forty-five degree angle.
"OTIS!" The shout shocked him out of his wanton state; the panties fell to the floor. Ruth was on him in less than a heartbeat, arms flailing, trying to deliver punishing blows. "You sonofabitch!" The blows were landing on nothing but arms and elbows; Otis was a foot taller than his assailant. "That's my daughter!" She was running out of steam. Pure adrenaline and anger had gotten her this far but sher was fading fast. "I didn't know," Otis protested. "I just found them." "Otis?" Ruth was practically doubled over gasping for air.
"You put your hands on my baby?" "No, ma'am." "You put your hands on my baby?!" she screamed with all the might she had left. "No, ma'am. I found them. I swear." Otis started to put his business back in his pants. "No! You leave it out. You think the Lord didn't see what you were doing?" Ruth walked over and locked the door, never looking up from the huge phallus swinging between the janitor's powerful thighs.
His heavy breathing was causing it to sway in a hypnotic motion. "You want to keep you job here, Otis?" Ruth asked walking toward Otis. "Yes, ma'am. You and pastor been nothing but good to me." Ruth was now toe to toe. "We can't have you around children when you mind is like this, Otis. Why aren't you married? Can't you see not having a help meet has left the door open for Satan?" "Yes, ma'am." Otis was sweating profusely.
Ruth could smell it.
"If you had a wife, Otis, she would have her hands on you, not yourself, and you would be thinking of her." Ruth reach down for a handful of Otis. She couldn't believe how heavy it was.
"Aren't you thinking about me now, Otis?" Otis hesitated, not quite knowing how to answer. "Yes, ma'am?" "You not thinking about any little girls are you?" Ruth squeezed for emphasis. "No, ma'am." he barely got it out. "When you play with your penis, Otis, all sorts of evil fill your head. It's the Devils doorway. So we mustn't play with our penis, Otis." Ruth squeezed again. "Yes, ma,am," Otis grunted. "Now, I'm going to help you 'til we find you a good christian wife.
I won't let the Devil have you, Otis. You're like family to us." Ruth couldn't believe the power that was surging through this frightening tool she held in her hand. Slowly she moved her hand up and down it enjoying the dual sensations of admiration and fear. "What we're about to do is a sin, Otis. But he Lord will understand. These are his children we're protecting." "Yes, ma'am".
The penis in Ruth's hand started to grow even bigger. "How big is this anaconda?" she wondered.
"What's this lubricant on your penis?" "This." Otis retrieved a large bottle from the shelf behind him. "Olive oil? Well, ok. I'm going to need alot. Pastor Billy has a baby carrot. Yours must come from a whole nother garden." Ruth kicked off her shoes, wiggled out of her panty hose and panties, hiked up her skirt, and used a folding chair to climb up on the edge of an old conference table. Her legs were spread wide. Otis would be only the second man to gaze at her Holy of Holies.
"Come on, Otis! We haven't got much time. Remember: a lot of lubrication." Otis slowly inserted his oily fingers into Ruth hesitantly, especting her to back out of this at any minute. Instead, she seemed to enjoy his ministrations more and more with every insertion, breathing heavily and moaning as he circled the inside of her vagina, coating it with olive oil.
He then heavily coated his penis before grabbing Ruth by the hips. "Wait, Otis. I think it would be better if you lay on the table and I get on top." Otis let loose a backhand swipe, sending boxes and bottles flying from the table, giving Ruth a shudder.
He pulled his pants and underwear down to his and ankles and lept up on table - all seemingly in one motion. The powerful display of physicality caused Ruth to bite into her lip. Ruth crawled over to Otis and carelfully brought her right leg over to stradle him. The mixture of fear and exitement made her think of her first riding lesson.
The powerful animal under her had caused her to spasm in delight - she spent a week on her knees after that praying for forgiveness. Her knees were going to take a lot more punishment for this.
"Uh-" The stretching of Ruth's vagina was already causing her discomfort, and the head of Otis' penis wasn't even in yet. She didn't know if she should continue. How embarrassing would it be to have to explain this to a doctor in a hospital emergency room? Then the thought of Billy whoring around gave her new resolve.
She relaxed, and allowed the snake to slowly invade her cave, exploring it, stretching it, forcing it to comply, until Ruth could allow it to go no farther.
Then she eased upward feeling it tug at her clitoris from inside. Then down again, the snake dragging her labia in with it, and if Ruth arched herself just right, her clitoris slid down the oily snake giving her exquisite pleasure. "Mustn't do that," she thought. "This isn't for my own pleasure.
This is to minister to Otis. Save the little children." Yet, she couldn't resist. The will was there but the body was weak. Again and again she rode her clit down the snake, only to work her way back up, feeling it tug its way out. A light and dizzy feeling enveloped her as she immersed herself in the euphoria of it all.
"Lord forgive me. I've opened the door and let him -" Otis flipped her as easy as she had flipped babies when changing diapers. "Otis, No!" This was an Otis she'd never seen before. The rage in his face terrified her.
He was plunging into her with abandon. The euphoria she felt was but a memory; there was only pain and fear now. Was this how she was going to die? What would her children - ?
A chilly blackness gripped her before she could finish the thought. "Oh, Jesus!" She could hear Otis' voice in the distance. And then it became much louder. "I thought I killed you." Ruth opened her eyes to see a panic stricken Otis pacing back and forth. "I'm okay, Otis. I must have fainted." Ruth struggled to get off the table. Otis wouldn't go near her. She bent over and picked up her hose and panties and walked gingerly toward the door, her gait giving away her ministering session with Otis.
She felt like a heavyweight had punched her in her crotch. She looked back at Otis when she reached the door. "Otis, you have got to learn to control yourself. Don't worry. I'm going to be there for you. With the Lord's help, we're going get you right." Otis was against a wall, his face in his hands, and his head bobbing up and down.
Ruth took a peek out of the door - wouldn't want any of busybodies spreading her business; no one would understand. This was between Otis, herself, and the Lord. But the three of them had company. Another set of eyes witnessed the whole thing. Vicky's Way Out Vicky still didn't have an escape plan. And time was running out.
She was due back at the university in one week. If she hadn't come up with a plan by then, she would spend another year in hell hating herself. She had the money; that part was easy. Her father had been skimming from the church for years.
And true to his hillbilly roots, he distrusted anybody outside his bloodlines; church personnel were predominately kin and kin of kin. But when it came to money, the only family pastor Billy trusted were his oldest daughter, Vicky, and his head of security, big brother Jesse. But donations had gone from trickle to flood so fast the pastor was overwhelmed; he couldn't keep track of it all. Vicky just skimmed from the skim. Money was not a problem.
Vicky needed a place to hide. No way her father was going to let her go. Vicky was the church's cash cow. A whole generation had grown up with Little Miss Vicky, the child with spiritual wisdom way beyond her years.
From the day her father brought her up to the pulpit on Children's Sunday she was a hit. The church went from a store front to a ten acre compound in ten years.
Radio and television were bringing in donations by the millions. Little Miss Vicky's winsom love of the Lord captivated christian parents everywhere. And they hoped that love would rub off on their own children. They had no way of knowing that at night pastor Billy would climb into Little Miss Vicky's bed and do some rubbing of his own.
Vicky once thought college would be her salvation. At least she'd be away from her father most of the year. But pastor Billy insisted on a christian university, which turned out to be an even worse environmnent. The school's lecherous professors and school administrators were like animals.
The prospect of nailing Little Miss Vicky sent them into heat. Reliving her freshman year was making Vicky nauseous but she fought through it. She had work to finish for pastor Billy. The pastor was impatiently awaiting a report on the video surveillance.
Pastor Billy believed in hiring family but couldn't abide being taken advantage of. The church had a huge payroll but nobody seemed to be doing any work. This had to stop.
Uncle Jesse hired a company to secretly install cameras in every area of the church except his office, Vicky's, and the pastor's. Vicky was given the thankless task of editing the thousands of hours of tape and providing written performance reports to uncle Jesse. She was down to the last half dozen, thank God. She was just starting on Otis. "OH MY GOD!" clanged around in Vicky's skull like a church bell.
What the hell is she thinking? Otis? Daddy and uncle Jesse won't think twice about killing her silly ass. Vicky was stunned by the stupidity of it all but indifferent to her mother's welfare. She had issues with her - What kind of mother turns a blind eye to the kind of evil happening in Vicky's bedroom? And Vicky was sure her father was starting in on her little sister. Vicky could give a shit about her mother.
But Otis was a different matter. Vicky liked Otis. In fact, she used to fantasize about him being her real father; charging into her bedroom to beat the holy shit out of the monster molesting her. Otis was going to fare far worse than her mother. He'd be lucky if he got a quick death. If there was one thing that would drive these mountain men into a medieval rage - "That's it!" Vicky had found her way out.
For good. "You wanted to see me, Miss Vicky?" "Yes, Otis. Come on in. have a seat" Otis tentatively walked in and took a seat as Vicky rose from behind her desk carrying her laptop.
"I want to show you something, Otis." She set the laptop down on the edge of her desk, tapped a key, and watched as Otis cringed in horror. "You know what daddy and uncle Jesse are going to do to you when they see this?" "Oh my God!" Otis jumped to his feet knocking over the chair.
"Listen to me, Otis. I can help you but you gotta trust me." "Jesus!" Otis was wringing his hands and shaking his head. "Otis!" Vicky shouted. You've got to focus. We don't have much time." Vicky went over to the couch and grabbed a throw pillow, tossed it in front of her desk and knelt. She was eye level with her laptop. She beckoned Otis with her hands. "Come on Otis." Otis cautiously walked over to stand in front of her. Vicky reached for his zipper; Otis jumped.
"Otis! We don't have time for this." "I can't do this, Miss Vicky." "Otis, you're the only man that's ever been good to me. You've always looked out for me. Ain't that right?" "Yes ma'am." "I was your Little Miss Vicky.
In fact, you were the first one to start calling me that. I'm trying to save your life, Otis. I don't have time to explain all this to you.
You have to trust me.
This is the only way to keep daddy and uncle Jesse off of you. Now, Come on." She waved him back over. "Jeez Louise!" Vicky exclaimed under her breath as the heavy black fire hose uncoiled in her hand, the head looking like a purple candy apple. "This is for you freedom," Vicky told herself. It dawned on her, as she began licking around the enormous head, that this was the first cock she ever sucked on her own volition.
She thought about the men who had wronged her and she pictured them watching this as their little dicks shriveled up. Play for the camera, Vicky. "Mmmmmm," she purred as she licked up and down the shaft just under the head. Yeah, Little Miss Vicky loves her some big, black cock. She thought about all the girls who were being brow beaten by their parents into being a Little Miss Vicky. Yeah, girls.
Follow Little Miss Vicky to delicious black cock. Give 'em a good show, Vicky. "caaauuawk," Vicky was choking and gagging as she tried swallow as much of Otis' cock as possible. Her eyes were red and bulging; saliva washed over Otis' penis like a waterfall. Little Miss Vicky might die choking on this black cock.
"Aaaaah," she breathe in relief as she pulled out the saliva soaked head and resumed licking. Otis' penis was starting to produce as much lubricant as her saliva. The liquid was pooling on her hands and smearing her face.
It was time. Vicky knew the poor man couldn't hold out much longer. She started jerking him off while furiously licking the head of his penis. "Oooooh," Otis moaned. Vicky closed her eyes and waited for the heavy drops to hit her face.
Nothing. The first spurt had sailed over her head. She peeled her eye lids only to get hit with the second spurt right between the eyes. The stinging in her eyes forced her mouth open, where the third spurt went. The fourth went up her nostrils, sending her into coughing spasms.
"DAMN OTIS! CUM MUCH?" she thought as the cum dripped from her face. She used Otis' shirt tail to clear her eyes. "Look, Otis," Vicky said rising to her feet, "There's going to be a lot of confusion and panic over the next two days." She walked back over to the couch and pulled a large yellow envelope out of her purse.
"Daddy and uncle Jesse are going to be too busy putting out fires to come after you. There's thirty thousand dollars in here," she said handing him the envelope. "Get out of town, Otis. Start a new life. There's no future here for this church or anyone in it." Redemption Otis sat in a folding chair in the supply room staring at the yellow envelope. He could feel the weight and shapes of the stacks of bills, but he never looked inside.
How did it come to this? He had tried his best to turn his life around. Women and liquor had been his downfall.
Every bar fight and street brawl he'd been in, and there had been a few, revolved around those two culprits. It took doing a nickel of hard labor to force himself to reevalute his life and his choices. The change wasn't easy on him. After his release, he couldn't even get menial jobs; no one would take a chance on an ex-con. He was a bum hanging around a soup kitchen just looking foward to a decent meal when he met pastor Billy.
"I see redemption in your eyes," he said. "We're going to fix you up." It was the first time Otis had felt true love for a man. If this was christianity, Otis had to be a part of it. He joined pastor Billy's church and was there from the start of the church's meteoric rise.
For the first time in his life he was proud to be a part of something. Now it was turning to shit. All because of a moment of weakness. Otis had given up women and liquor; it had been decades since either had touched his lips.
But the sight of those panties struck him like lightning. What were they doing in the trash? Satan must have put them there to tempt him; Otis failed the test.
The familiar scent wafting off them hit him like shot of heroin. And it all lead to this. He betrayed the one man who'd shown him unconditional love, defiling his wife and daughter. The guilt was bubbling up into his throat like bile. He had to make this right. He was not going to let Satan steal his redemption. Vicky was already packed before she uploaded the video. She booked a flight to Los Angeles; she needed a city large enough for her to be just another face in the crowd.
It was a toss up between Los Angeles and New York, with the weather being the deciding factor. She was hoping the video wouldn't go viral before she boarded the plane. Little Miss Vicky was dead.
May she rest in peace. She couldn't help but worry about Otis. A queasy feeling swirled at the bottom of her gut. Did he follow her advice? "Please, Otis," she pleaded into a void. Otis had made up his mind. He headed to the pastor's office. If he died, it would be the price he owed for the sins of this life. But he would pass on to eternity righteous for having confessed.
"Is he in, Miss Grace?" These kids grow up fast. It seemed like only yesterday Jesse's daughter was playing hopscotch in the parking lot. Now, here she was a responsible young teenager holding down a job as pastor Billy's assistant. Another pang of guilt hit Otis as she flashed him a smile.
The church was this family's Garden Of Eden; Otis had become the Serpent. "Oh, Otis. I was just about to send for you. Pastor Billy wants a word," she said rising from her desk to knock on the pastor's door.
"Pastor? Otis is here." "Thank you darling," the pastor said after cracking the door. "Otis come on in, son." Otis had to slide through the crack to enter the office. Pastor Biily quickly shut the door behind him. "Uh, pastor-" Otis didn't see the blow coming. It caught him flush on the jaw. He was on knees and elbows tasting his own blood for first time since his street days. "My daughter, nigger?
After all I've done for you?" Otis was surprised the epithet still had so much power over him. His body took over before his mind could stop it. He came up with a right to the body followed by a left to the kidney. An uppercut straightened the pastor up for a right cross to crash into his nose, shattering it, sending shards of bone into the pastor's brain. Pastor Billy was dead before he hit the carpet. Blood was everywhere. "Oh sweet Jesus!" Otis wailed. Grace rushed in and screamed at the sight.
This girl's daddy was on the grounds somewhere. He and the rest of these inbreds are armed to the teeth. Otis had to get out of there. "No," Grace protested, blocking Otis' path to the door. "You saved me Otis," she said ripping her blouse. Otis was in a state of panic and confusion. Was he dreaming this? "The cocksucker's been molesting me for years," she confessed ripping the sleave off the the other side of her blouse.
He had to be dreaming. He'd never heard such filth come out of this sweet little girl's mouth. "I'll just tell the police you came in and pulled him off of me. It's okay, Otis. You did the world a favor," she said walking over to the pastor's corpse. She hiked up her skirt to pull down her panties, catching Otis by surprise.
He quickly turned away. "Can you believe he was even fucking his own daughters?" she said stepping out of her panties and then ripping them. "I hope they're ass raping you in hell you piece of shit!" she shouted at the corpse. The police took Grace's statement.
Otis wasn't of much help; he was genuinely in a state of shock. He still spent two days in lockup while the police "sorted things out." Homicide found enough DNA evidence in the pastor's office and Grace's house to back up her story, so they let Otis go. The cash bundles stashed everywhere brought in the IRS; they were followed by the FBI and ATF.
The national media coverage had them stepping all over each other to get camera time. It turned into real cluster fuck. Of all the revelations uncovered in the church scandal, the town reserved its shock for one: the public defiling of Little Miss Vicky.
Otis had to get out of town before the shock wore off. Picking up his suitcase, he took one last look around at the life he built, and headed for the door. He tossed his bible in the trash on his way out. He was through with religion.
It was more dangerous than women and liquor combined. .