She was hot once more, feeling her pussyjuice bubbling. She could see the bulge of his cock pressing out against his black, shiny pants. She hated herself for this. She was destroying this man of God, turning him from the Bible into… into what? Feeling the cuffs biting into her wrists, feeling the straps pulling her legs apart, all Ellen could think of was the tension building in her cunt and the whirling, spinning golden ball of delight starting up again.
Reverend Davis pulled back. His watery gray eyes were half-closed. Ellen watched horrified and aroused as the minister pulled back, then tugged savagely at his trousers. She could see the shiny black material bunching up around his paunch, then falling down toward the floor. Her tits heaved with the deep, gusting breaths she took.
Ellen turned her head to one side, unable to watch this horror. This man, this man of God who was to have comforted her was now driving her further down the road of sin.
"Do you repent, sister? Do you feel the devil leaving you?"
"No," Ellen croaked, her voice cracked and hoarse with lust.
"Then more must be done," the minister said with confidence.
Ellen rolled her head back and saw him standing there, his cock sticking straight out from his groin. His prick wasn't nearly as big as the ones that had fucked her earlier. Even her husband's cock was larger. Ellen nearly laughed, looking at the small, stubby thing with a fat mushroom shaped head. He stepped from his pants, his eyes still focused on her naked, whipped and beaten body. He picked up the cat once more and dangled the leather thongs over her nipples. The tit-tips, sore and beaten, puckered into stiff points. Her tits throbbed as she wondered what he was going to do with her.
"Satan is a proud beast, sister. We must do everything we can to drive him from you. You aren't safe – and neither are any of us around you."
"Yes, yes," Ellen whispered, trembling with perverse lust.
She saw his prick growing a bit, standing straighter from his groin. He trailed the tip of the cat across the full, rich underswell of her tits. Then with a quick, savage movement, he slashed the crop across both nipples. The black leather strips bit into her tit-tips brutally.
Ellen squealed, writhing against the splintery bench while the hot stinging pain made her tits burn. More tears oozed from under her eyelashes, streaking her cheeks as the pain seemed to increase. Her tits bounced after each impact, her right nipple feeling as if it were half ripped from her tit. Her belly muscles ached from the tension while she looked pleadingly at the man, praying for more sensation.
Reverend Davis smiled down knowingly at her, his lips moving as if he were about to speak. His fingers played over the wrapped handle of the cat while a small droplet of pre-cum oozed from the pale head of his prick. She could see his balls rising, pulling up tightly against his crotch while his grizzled cock-hairs stood out as if charged with electricity.
Ellen opened her mouth to moan, then saw his arm move back so suddenly it blurred in her vision. She barely had enough time to tense herself against the leather bonds holding her against the bench. In a second the awful cat slammed against her body twice, the strips of leather making a large X on her flesh. She screamed, her legs pulling against the restraints.
Reverend Davis continued beating, her, his arm jerking up and down while the cat rained down a horror of agony against the woman. Her belly, tits and cunt burned with the stinging blows from the leather, the air filled with the sounds of her screams and the crackling of the whip.
"Yaghghhghghhh!"
Ellen bounced her ass-cheeks against the bench, her eyes rolling while the world swirled around and around before her.
Reverend Davis was drooling, his arousal getting the best of him. Taking an end of the cat in each hand, he brought the leather strips against her throat, cutting off the air from her windpipe while he pushed his face against hers. His eyes were round, his pupils dilated while his chins trembled with excitement. She thought he would cum on her right then and there.
"Do you repent, sister? You feel the devil leaving you now?"
"No, no," she managed to choke out, her face growing flushed.
"Satan is powerful, but so am I," he countered, sliding the leather back and forth against her throat.
Pulling back finally, Reverend Davis snapped the crop over his head, bringing the flailing strips crashing down against her calves, her feet, then finally only inches away from her cunt. Ellen shrieked, her pussy going into buckling tremors of need while long red welts erupted on her lashed inner thighs.
"Now? Now?" he cried.
"Fuck you! Fuck you and your God! Fuck you and your church!" Ellen screamed.
Reverend Davis stopped, his face streaked with rolling perspiration. He smiled, his full lips pulling back over his crooked teeth and making the woman shiver with terror and unholy lust. They were in this together. She could feel a link with him more close than the one she had shared for over seven years with her husband! They were bound together in this perversion, and the Crenshaw boys had given her the basic training to endure whatever this madman had in store for her.
"I know a way to drive Satan from you. The Old Church used it in their way – I use it in mine," Reverend Davis said, wiping his fore head with the back of one hand and dropping his crop with a thud onto, the floor.
Ellen strained against her bonds, loving the cutting feel of the leather against her sweating skin. Reverend Davis smoothed his fingers ever her whipped body, drinking in her naked flesh with his greedy eyes, then bringing his hand up to her tits and squeezing them so hard the woman thought she would faint from the pain. The minister saw her reaction and smiled approvingly.
"Perhaps this will be less painful than I thought," he said with a touch of regret.
Ellen clenched her teeth, her head rolling from side to side while perspiration dripped down her thighs and wet her asscrack. She could feel every nerve tingling with excitement as she waited for this foul man to violate her once more. Her cuts and bruises throbbed with a stinging delight that made her clit knife up more savagely from her swampy cunt. She purposely arched her spine, cutting the leather into her flesh and wanting more sensation.
Reverend Davis swallowed hard, pulling himself away from her and moving about in the chamber.
"Here, this will stir your soul," he said.
Ellen blinked her eyes clear. Reverend Davis had his hands on either side of a square box that rested on a small rolling table. Ellen looked quizzically at the object, catching sight of several black, twisting wires dangling from the back side of the box.
"It's a generator, my dear – the kind they use in scout camps and swap meets, run entirely by gasoline. It's a small affair, I admit," he said a bit ruefully as he ran his fingers along the dusty top. "But it will do the job. And we both know what that job is, don't we?"
"No," Ellen said nervously.
"The Old Church used fire and branding irons. I have those, too," Reverend Davis said, droplets of spit sparkling on his lips as he slowly uncoiled the wires, lovingly stroking them as if they were a favored pet. "But we're in the twentieth century, and so is Satan. These will more thin adequately do the job of cleansing your soul."
He was holding the end of one wire now, pressing down on the fat end of a rusty alligator clamp. The tiny metal teeth were bent. God only knows how many times he had used the machine. The generator box was scratched and faded, the wires were worn in spots.
Reverend Davis rubbed the clip against his lips, then drew the wire taut before bringing the opened clamp down to her right nipple. Ellen held her breath, her throat tightening while she stared wide-eyed at the stiff, red nipple poking up. She bit down hard on her lower lip, watching as the jagged teeth closed in on the rubbery tit-tip.