The Corruption of Katherine Pt. 03

He chuckled. "Church members never read what others have to say about the Bible. They really should, you know. They would find these readings quite enlightening."

Another chuckle. He swept his hand across the shelf. "We've gone to great effort and expense to put together this .... stimulating ... collection. Members of our Fellowship often visit here after hours to prepare for one of our meetings. It's a great aid to the sexual imagination."

He began pointing to individual books, all with obscure and academic-sounding titles; however, as he pointed to each one, he showed us that the real titles that were hidden inside false covers: Fanny Hill, A Man With a Maid, the complete Marquis de Sade, My Life and Loves, the Autobiography of a Flea, and many more lustful and libidinous works of pornographic literature. Drawings were there too, including the explicit Japanese paintings called shunga.

I was certainly familiar with some of them and began to feel a full-body arousal as I contemplated coming to this intimate library and immersing myself in the wicked thoughts and sexual imaginings contained in these covers. And though undoubtedly pleasurable in itself, such a journey through the dream lands of envisioned debauchery would also feed the fires of invention in my loins as I thought about designing some of my own revels in the Reverend Petersen's fellowship of sexual perversion. I could hardly wait to get started with real female bodies.

Petersen reached down a thick volume titled "The Wisdom of Maimonides" and opened it. It was another false cover. On the title page inside was a woodcut drawing of a naked maiden stretched out on her back on a padded divan in a Paris drawing room. She was surrounded by lords and ladies, most in a state of semi- or complete nudity. A hairy, brawny servant with big hands and an even bigger cock held her wrists locked over her head. Two footmen in livery each held a delicate ankle pulled wide on either side of the divan, displaying the mossy grotto of her pussy at the apex of her alabaster thighs.

Kneeling between them on the divan was the debauched old lord of the manor, naked, his monstrous appendage dangling menacingly between his legs, its bulbous head pointed lustfully at the lips of her quivering quim. The caption underneath the image read "The Sexual Initiation of Rosa".

Katherine stared pointedly at the proud penis of the debauched lord in the picture. "Is that what you're going to do to me?" she asked in a quavering voice that could have been angry and demanding but also had a certain trembling anticipation and even good humour.

"Yes," the Reverend replied matter-of-factly. "It's a way of giving our females the multiple orgasms they want. We follow traditional modes of welcoming beautiful women like you to our Fellowship, Katherine, many of whom have never experienced the soul-shaking pleasure of multiple orgasms that build to unimagined heights. To do that, we need multiple male partners for you."

He paused again. "You'll find accounts of multiple-partner initiations of females in most of the classic erotica." He indicated the books with a sweep of his hand.

"Katherine," he continued. "We share our naked bodies freely, and we'd like you to experience that freedom too. Our Fellowship consists mainly of men you know, the heads of church committees that you work with every week as church secretary. They are professional men and family men. Their wives for the most part don't know and will never know the force and direction of their husbands' libidos."

"But that's OK. It's the saving lie, the one that preserves the necessary decorum and calm surface of civilized life, and saves marriages, that most sacred institution."

Katherine stared at him, and he sensed her incredulity.

"No," he said, "we're not hypocrites. We believe in marriage to one woman. We just don't believe that fidelity needs to be defined narrowly in terms of sexual exclusivity. Love, yes. We love only our wives. But lust, no. We recognize, and some wives also recognize, that sex is a gift from God and any sexual activity that gives pleasure to adults is a good thing."

"Sex improves our lives by imparting a sense of well being and giving expression to our innermost libidinous fantasies. Sex with a variety of partners and in a variety of sexual activities gives our lives colour and excitement and connects us with each other in strong and intimate ways. It can be done safely in a carefully selected group like this. You should be honoured to be chosen."

"Well," said Katherine, overwhelmed with this speech. "So much to think about." Pause. To Petersen, "Can you show us more in this book? I want to see what's giving you inspiration."

"Sure thing. Let's see", said Petersen, flipping over several pages. "Here's a good one."

The pen and ink drawing was again of a Paris boudoir. This time the unfortunate girl had been bound naked face down over the divan and her bare bottom was being flayed by a mature madam with a leather whip, while her mouth was being invaded by the Lord's erect member.

Katherine just shook her head. It hadn't occurred to her that pain and pleasure were somehow related to each other in sexual matters, and the idea of taking a man's penis into her mouth was repugnant. Surely the men of the church wouldn't do that to her. Or would they? And what about that whip? How could such pain be much fun?

As she traced the outline of the whip with her finger, I could see this question flit across her mind, but I held my tongue. I was sure she would learn eventually. Those of us more knowledgeable and more debauched in sexual matters were quite aware of the benefits of erotic power exchange.

Another page showed the wrinkled Lord on the bed on his back, his magnificent cock buried in the poor girl's sopping quim and a servant's cock buried in her exposed backside. The Madam, for this was labelled "A Bordello Scene", was laying into the servant's bum with a birch rod.

Katherine stared at this for a while, her brow furrowed. "Her bum?" she breathed. As I said, she would learn eventually.

"One more," chirped Petersen, flipping to the last page. Inserted into the back of the book was a folder of plastic pocket pages, quite modern in design, holding photos of naked people.

I pointed to one and blurted in amazement, "That's Janice!"

The Reverend grinned wickedly, for indeed it was his wife. She was stark naked and on her back, legs spread, receiving the thrusts of a monster black cock in her furry cunt. Her face, tits, and pussy were all visible, and she was obviously enjoying being fucked so thoroughly, as if the evidence of her sex juices coating his cock and running down her bum were not enough. Enough of the man's face showed that I recognized him as one of Mrs. Wilkins' regulars.

"Photos!" exclaimed Katherine. "Are you going to take photos of me?"

"Of course, my dear," said the Reverend solemnly. "Please don't bother your head about it. It's for our own use only. The members come here to peruse them to gain inspiration for our depraved activities, and sometimes I let them borrow them for personal use, as long as they are not made public or revealed to others outside the Fellowship."

"However," he paused, "we do keep copies of them against the day one of our members betrays us. We can't have ourselves exposed to the wrath and ridicule of the congregation or the general public. So we have arranged severe consequences for such betrayal, though it has never happened to me and I hope it never will. This is one of those consequences. A set of candid photos from sex sessions featuring the betrayer will be sent to local news and media outlets to ensure that he or she suffers total humiliation and loss of public respect."

"Oh," said Katherine. "I guess that would keep it secret all right." She was certainly familiar with such threats of exposure, being the keeper of many church secrets imparted to her by gossipy members of the congregation.

She gathered herself and said to me, "Let's go. I've seen enough. I guess I can go through with this initiation thing, even though I don't like being forced into it by the likes of Mrs. Wilkins." I nodded and took her arm.

"Good," said Reverend Petersen, moving with us to the library door. "Then I want you to come to the church basement here next Friday week. Can you make it?"

I looked at Katherine and we nodded at each other. "Dot," she began and trailed off into an unspoken question.

"Dot", I finished for her, "is going to Manchester to look at properties for her company." To the Reverend John Petersen, I said simply, "We will attend your ceremony."