The Devil's Surrogate Read Online Free Page A

out without thick dildos strapped into them,
and Kitty had discovered this meant only that their sexes were
being left that much more available for a human phallus.
    'Left now...
left, I say!' Ross flicked the whip in an arc that allowed it to
merely kiss both sets of shoulders. 'There!' he cried. 'There, onto
that path, you idle sluts. Let's get some blood running in those
legs and pussies.' The ground beneath their bare feet began to rise
slightly, but even this gentle gradient imposed considerable extra
strain upon muscles that were already screaming in protest.
    This way,
Kitty now knew, lay two smaller barns which the grooms used to
house their charges on some nights when the main barn was
particularly crowded, or when they decided it was time to impose
some particularly wicked discipline on certain of their charges.
Both buildings had been equipped with a bewildering array of
punishment and torture devices, ranging from simple trestles - upon
which a girl could be painfully mounted - to stocks and pillories
that must have tested the ingenuity of their designers, and which
could be employed to secure a victim in almost any position of
pain, degradation and availability for either punishment or sexual
gratification.
    She sucked in
as deep a breath as the constricting girth would permit and ground
her teeth into her gag. At least, she tried to console herself,
whatever indignity their coldly efficient trainer decided to
inflict upon them, it could be no worse than this constant trotting
uphill with lungs already threatening to burst and sweat now
pouring from every pore of their bodies. Also, she had discovered
almost immediately upon her arrival, the pain and indignity would
eventually become partially assuaged by the waves of pleasure even
such inhuman treatment somehow managed to generate in her
treacherous body.
     
    Jacob Crawley
gripped the writhing girl's buttocks hard with his bony fingers,
delighting in the way her body squirmed helplessly against his own,
and in the deep heat gripping his throbbing member as she hung
impaled upon it, her bare toes inches off the stone floor, her legs
kicking helplessly as she strove to free herself; a fruitless
struggle, for he had her firmly and would not release her until he
had sated himself.
    'Bitch...
whore...' he hissed. 'Try to seduce the Lord's appointed hand with
your lewdness, would you?' He barely suppressed a chuckle, for even
his warped mind knew well enough that Matilda's desperate twisting
and turning was no attempt to stir his lust but merely the
instinctive struggling of a trapped creature, the way a fly might
twitch and twist in the helpless grip of a spider's web.
    He moved one
hand up, pressing against the small of her back so her naked
breasts were crushed against his own bare chest. The smell of her
was overpowering; sweat, fear, and yes, even that smell of lust.
These ungodly sluts simply could not help themselves. Weakness, the
weakness that was woman incarnate, the same weakness that had led
Eve to sample the forbidden fruit, and all at the behest of a
serpent. Now another serpent was summoning this Eve's whore, the
stiff serpent that sprang up from his loins and upon which she was
now so totally impaled, repenting and repaying the treachery of her
sex to the Lord God their maker. Crawley ground his broken teeth
hard together, feeling the first waves of his own surrender
beginning to build, knowing he must soon spurt his seed deep into
her faithless womb and yet wishing to prolong the moment of deep,
agonising ecstasy for both of them.
    'Bitch...' he
groaned, butting his head against the leather covering of her
cheek, forgetting the steel band that crossed it and yet oblivious
to the pain as his forehead slammed into it. 'Bitch!' he roared
again, and holding her writhing body even tighter, exploded a
torrent of semen into her with a ferocity that threatened to buckle
his own legs beneath their combined weight.
     
    Very dimly,
Sarah Merridew was aware that