Virgin Sacrifice

I was at home, minding my own business, thinking of joining a couple of the girls for a night out. The trouble was, I was comfortably dressed in a track suit and not sure I wanted to go to all the trouble of making myself presentable. That's when I received a call from my mother.

"Nancy, pet, could you do me a huge favour. I'm expecting a visitor shortly but I won't be home in time to receive him. I've been delayed by a problem on the roads. Could you nip round to my place and greet him and keep him entertained until I get there."

"Sure, I guess. How long do you expect to be and who's the visitor?"

"Oh, I shouldn't be long. Just someone from the Real Estate with a query about the house. Probably a rent review or something. I have to go. Bye."

With that she'd hung up and my Friday evening was booked for an hour or so. I should explain that when I say my mother, I'm really referring to my step-mother. My father remarried after my mother died and Clarice is only about ten years older than me. She and I got on reasonably well but she isn't the brightest spark.

My father suffered no delusions about her mental acuity and was very careful with his will. Clarice got a pension and a financial guardian to control the capital so she couldn't blow it. He also arranged a nice rented unit for her to live in. He was under the impression that if he left her the house she would have sold it and spent the money. I am not saying he was incorrect in his thinking. I was left nicely provided for and I got the house. I was also given an endowment that would cover my mother's rent, the capital of which would revert to me once Clarice died or remarried (The pension was hers for life). This was my father's way of ensuring that Clarice was looked after and in a comfortable home.

Seeing that I supplied the money for the rent I guessed it made sense for me to be at the flat if someone from the real estate was coming around to assess the place. I jumped in my car, drove over, and let myself in.

I'd only been there about ten minutes when there was a knock and, on answering, I found Mr Henderson at the door. I guess you could say that Mr Henderson was from the real estate office. Especially seeing he owned it. He also owned the unit that my mother rented. How to describe Mr Henderson? Do you remember the old sitcom, Bigfoot and the Hendersons? Named something like that, anyway. Well, forget Mr Henderson from the series. Think of Bigfoot, shave him, and jam him into a suit. That's the real life Mr Henderson. Just not as friendly.

"Nancy, isn't it?" he asked. "Where's Clarice?"

How nice. He remembered my name and we'd only ever met once. Shows that he's got a good memory, as I never thought that I was that unforgettable. He, on the other hand, was certainly memorable.

"My mother's not here right now," I told him. "I understand you're here for a rent review or something like that. My mother's on her way but she's been delayed by traffic."

"I'll just bet she has. A hard woman to catch. I hadn't realised that you're her daughter. You must be younger than you look. I take it she's left you here as her virgin sacrifice."

"I'm not," I snapped, irritated.

"Not what?" he asked.

"Any of those things. I'm actually her step-daughter. I don't know how young you think I look but I'm nearly twenty. And I'm not a sacrifice."

"Uh-huh. You're not denying the virgin bit."

"Whether I am or am not is none of your business. I believe you've come here to discuss the rent. Are you thinking of increasing it? Clarice has already had one increase this year."

"Now it's my turn to say no," he said, smiling. The way a shark would smile, but smiling.

"No to what?" This man was annoying me. Just standing there he'd be annoying me.

"No, I'm not thinking of increasing the rent, and no, Clarice has not has a rent increase already this year. Apart from that, yes, I'm here to discuss the rent."

"Excuse me, but she had a ten percent increase a month ago. I should know because I have to supply the funds for it."

"Then you've been over-supplying," he said, his evil smile still in place. "The deal when we let this place was that the rent would be fixed for five years. It's only been two years and the rent hasn't changed. It also hasn't been paid for the past two months."

I was shocked. Clarice had lied about a rent increase just to get some extra money? That was so wrong. How could she cheat me like that? Then the rest of what he said kicked in. Unpaid? Pigs it was unpaid.

"It most certainly has been paid. I've supplied Clarice with the funds in a timely manner."

"I see. In that case just show me the receipts and I'll apologise and have words with my staff about their poor rental records."

Right, receipts. Where would Clarice keep her receipts? I had no idea. I reached for my phone and called Clarice.

"Ah, Clarice, Mr Henderson is here about the rent. His records show it as unpaid. Could you tell me where you keep your receipts so that I can get them? Or will you be here soon?"

"The receipts? The rental receipts?"

"Yes, Clarice. The rental receipts."

"Um, I won't be there for quite a while. There's a huge traffic jam here and I might be stuck for hours. I think there was an accident."

"That's unfortunate. The receipts."

"Yes, well I meant to tell you about that."

This nasty sounding statement was then followed by silence.

"Go on, Clarice," I said encouragingly.

"Well, I was shopping and the rent money was in my pocket, and there were these things I just had to get, and you know how it is. I'll pay it but it's just going to be a little late."

"What do you mean the money was in your pocket? I gave you a cheque."

"Yes, I know dear, but I met this nice man in a shop who was willing to cash it. He charges ten percent to do that which is why I had to tell you the rent went up ten percent."

I was going to kill her. I really was. Wait a minute.

"Clarice," I said sweetly, "what happened to last month's rent?"

"Oh, yes. I forgot about that. I guess you owe that as well."

"Not me," I said flatly. "You. I will speak to Mr Edwards and arrange for the money to be paid out of your pension fund. He'll probably dock your pension by ten percent until the capital is repaid."

The big thing in favour of the old land lines and their big handsets was that you could hang up by crashing the phone down onto the rest. With a smart phone you have two choices. Lightly press a little button or throw your phone onto the ground and jump up and down on it. I need my phone so I just pressed the little button. I consoled myself with the fact that Mr Edwards would probably be quite rude to Clarice when I explained the situation. He was a born accountant, and miserly, even with his client's money. He'd pay the outstanding rent but he'd also dock her pension, treating the extra payout as a loan.

Mr Henderson was still standing there with a big grin on his face. He'd heard my end of the conversation and knew how things stood. I choked back my bile and smiled pleasantly at him.

"My apologies," I said. "It seems that Clarice lost the rent money and was too embarrassed to tell me. I will arrange for future rent deposits to be paid direct from the bank to your account. I will also be speaking with Clarice's accountant on Monday to get the funds for the outstanding rent. I will personally see that it gets delivered to your office."

"I seem to recall having a conversation with Clarice about the missing rent," he said. "Several conversations, actually. They all seemed to finish up with her promising to have the rent sometime in the next day or so. A day which never seems to eventuate."

"I'm not Clarice. If I say the rent will be there, it will be there. You'll receive it Tuesday, at the latest."

"Are you wondering why Clarice isn't here right now?" he asked, changing tracks.

"Ah, I wasn't, but seeing you ask I guess she doesn't want to explain the problem to you. She'd rather I did it."

"Yes. The problem being that she went out and managed to spend the rent money. You should have made out the cheques to the office instead of to her. Then she'd have had to pay it in."

"I did," I said bitterly. "Apparently she found someone willing to cash them anyway."

"Interesting. I'll speak to my accountant about that. However, there is the little matter of the penalty that I mentioned to Clarice last time we talked."

"Penalty?" I asked, visions of rent increases and surcharges floating past.

"Mm, yes. The fourth time she was giving me the run-around I told her that if she didn't produce the rent as agreed then I'd damn well drag her to the nearest bed and fuck her silly."

He paused and seemed to consider what he'd just said.

"No. Make that sillier, as she is already a very silly woman. Stacked though, for a woman her age."

"Well, of all the nerve," I said, glaring at him. "It's no wonder she was scared to see you."

"Which is why she's offered you up as her virgin sacrifice," he drawled. "You're in luck. Childish virgins aren't to my taste so you can go unfucked. Children get off with a spanking."

Ever opened your mouth and stuck your foot in it?

"I already told you," I said angrily, "that I'm not a child, and you are certainly not spanking me."

"Still not denying the virgin bit, I see," he said softly, and I could tell he was laughing at me, deliberately goading me.

"Not a virgin either," I hissed. "Got it? I am a mature woman. Not a child."

"OK. I got it. You're not a virgin sacrifice and you won't be fobbed off with a quick spanking. Right?"

"Right," I snapped.

"Well, that's fine. It's not often you find a young lady so willing to accept the full consequences of something."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just approving of your agreement to take Clarice's place."

"Excuse me?" What the hell was he talking about?

"Weren't you paying attention to what you were saying?" he asked. "I offered to let you off with a spanking for the penalty but you wouldn't be in it. You just insisted on the full fuck."

I stared at him, feeling stupid and wondering if that was what I had just demanded. I had a nasty feeling that it could be interpreted that way. Not that it mattered. He was deliberately interpreting it that way to please himself and we both knew it.

I've been told at times that I have a tendency to over-analyse things. Analysis paralysis is what they call it. While you're thinking something over other people are acting. In this case the other people consisted of one person, Mr Henderson.

I was standing there, reviewing what I'd said, when I should have been running for the nearest lockable door. Or out of the apartment. Away from Mr Henderson, anyway, just as fast as I could. Before I got my thoughts into order I found myself in an unfortunate predicament.

Basically, that great oaf took one large step and he was standing right next to me. An arm went around my waist and just like that he was holding me comfortable under one arm. With his other hand free he was putting it to what he probably thought was good use, namely, peeling down my track suit pants and my panties.

I started kicking and squealing and the next moment I copped a slap on the bottom and a demand that I stop wriggling. Stupidly I stopped wriggling for a moment. It was the shock that did it. That moment was all the time he needed to finish stripping of my pants and panties. And my shoes, as they got tangled up in the legs of the track suit and came off with the pants.

With that the whole world promptly spun on its axis and when it settled down I was still tucked under Mr Henderson's arm but now facing the other way. Logical, I guess, as I was now in a position for him to start peeling off my top. And my bra. He paused along the way to undo the clasp. After that there was another sudden spin and I was back on my feet looking at him, stark staring naked, and he was staring all right, taking it all in.

Oh, boy, but I was ropable. How dare he do such a thing? Seeing he was undoing the belt of his trousers it occurred to me that if I didn't say something pretty quickly then there were other things that he'd probably dare.

"You just hold on a moment," I snapped. "Not going to happen. Forget it. Uh-uh. Not tonight, Josephine."

He just grinned and kept right on undoing his belt.

"Alright, alright," I said hastily. "If there has to be some sort of penalty I'll take the spanking."

He stopped with the trousers bit and gave me a disgusted look.

"A spanking? I have to give you a spanking? You're sure now? The couch looks big enough and comfortable enough for us to have a serious workout."

"A spanking," I insisted, hating him but also relieved.

"You are a grave disappointment to me," Mr Henderson said mournfully as he strolled over to the couch, a big hand clasping my elbow ensuring that I also strolled over there. "Well, let's get the show on the road," he said as he sat, drawing me across his knee. Dammit, he might at least have let me get dressed first. I pointed that out to him.

"Dressed?" was the incredulous retort. "You have to be kidding. A spanking has to be on a bare bottom and fully bare is even better. Are you comfortable?"

Comfortable? I was naked, draped over the knees of a hairy would-be he-man, one great paw resting on my bottom, the other cupping my breast. And just why was it cupping my breast?

"Um, your hand," I said, hoping he'd get the hint and remove it.

"What about it?" he asked, lifting the wrong one and giving what I suppose could be called a friendly smack on the bottom.

"The other one," I said repressively.

"Oh," he said giving my breast a squeeze. "Same question. What about it?"

"Could you please move it?"

"Not like that," I gasped as he started kneading my breast. "I meant move it somewhere else."

"No, I don't think so. I have to do something with it while I'm spanking you and using it to hold you steady seems a good idea."

"I'd have thought you could do that with your hand on my back," I said with a touch of desperation.

"I could, but it would show a lamentable lack of imagination. Now if you'll excuse me. . ."

Excuse him for which particular transgression I was wondering when the roof fell in and landed on my bottom. That's what it felt like, anyway. It wasn't until the second explosion took place against my poor bottom that it dawned on me that this was his version of a spanking. I yowled and tried to depart but, unfortunately, his hand was no longer caressing my breast. Now there's something I never thought I'd wish for but with his hand on my breast I would have been free to move. As it was he'd moved that blasted hand to the middle of my back and was holding me in place.

I yelled at him to stop, immediately or sooner, and the rotten man just laughed at me, all the while continuing with his brutal assault. I pointed out that it wasn't fair and I didn't deserve this and for a moment I thought I'd got the message through his thick head. He stopped and seemed to be considering it.

"How long have you known Clarissa?" he asked.

"I don't know. Years."

"And knowing her you still felt she was capable of paying the rent just because you gave her the money?"

"A cheque," I quickly pointed out. "I gave her a cheque."

"And that worked out well didn't it," he said and his hand landed on my bottom again.

I squalled and protested like a little girl but it didn't help at all. What was worse, as soon as I stopped wriggling and trying to get off his knee, his hand reclaimed my breast. That'll teach me to be careless with my wishes.

I was just squirming feebly, by bottom smarting like crazy and getting more painful by the spank, when he decided to change positions. He spun me to my feet and pushed me towards the armchair.

"We'll finish this with you bent over the armchair," he told me, urging me into position.

There I was bent over, bottom bright red, I was certain, waiting for the sky to fall in again. That expectation didn't help at all when it fell. A hand came down smartly on my bottom, slid down and around, and covered my pussy quite neatly. I could feel him spreading his fingers, his fingers spreading my lips at the same time, and then his cock was making itself at home, sliding smoothly into me.

For a moment or two I just froze there, not believing it. My face must have been a sight to behold, eyes popping, mouth open. By the time it fully registered that Mr Henderson really was taking me it was way too late. He'd already taken and his cock was fully inside me, and from where I stood that was a lot of cock.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked.

His hands came around me and covered both my breasts. Not just holding them but stroking them and playing with my nipples.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" he asked. "I told you I was going to fuck you. Surely you know enough to recognise it when it happens to you?"

"But you're not supposed to," I said in a half wail. "You spanked me instead."

"Instead? Ah, my bad. I thought you meant as well."

That rotten, lying, sod. He thought no such thing. He had known exactly what I meant and we both knew it.

"Well, too late now," he said with a sigh. "I guess I'll just have to make sure I do a good job of it."

"On the other hand," I suggested, "you could stop right now."

"Now why would I want to do that? I mean, we've gone this far so we might as well finish it off."

With that I could feel him pulling back. Not out, as I knew he'd be returning. Return he did, squeezing my breasts at the same time as his cock came thundering back into me, almost lifting me off my feet. The only reason he didn't was because I found myself responding, pushing back against him as he came.

He took his time at the start, having a small pause between each stroke, holding himself firmly inside me while he rubbed my breasts. Then there was that slow withdrawal followed by hands squeezing my breasts and his cock driving quickly back into place. He certainly wasn't taking his time coming back into me, putting his all into each thrust.

Despite what I might have wished I was fully aroused. How the hell a spanking can arouse someone is beyond me, but it evidently had, proved by the easy way I accepted him when Mr Henderson slipped his cock in. Now my arousal was complete and the excitement being generated within was mounting by the minute. For that matter you could say it was mounting with each stroke and those strokes were coming closer and closer together. The pause that he'd been doing between each stroke had slowly shortened until it was non-existent.

My awareness of what was going on was now focused exclusively upon my body and what was happening to it. The who that was doing it to me was now irrelevant, the actual doing being what had seized my attention. His cock would come sliding in, with me pushing to meet it, the friction between us generating the heat that was coursing through me. There was a pool of fire deep inside me and my blood was flowing through it, heating up and flowing through me, heating me unbearably. My whole body was on fire and still the pleasure mounted.

I was gasping and urging him on. At least, I thought I was urging him on, but I had a slight suspicion that the sounds I was making were incomprehensible. Probably because I was too far gone to be thinking coherently.

And still he was going, hands mauling my breasts, cock battering away at me, with no end in sight as far as I could tell. I was trapped in a world of hazy pleasure, helpless before his unrelenting demands.

When he finally settled down to finish me off I was way past ready for it. My climax was surprisingly silent, my voice totally lost to me. I just shuddered and shivered and tried to scream but not a sound did I make. He did. He gave a shout of triumph, the pig, as though he'd won a major prize, letting loose inside me and flooding me.