Kornthal

Kornthal Kornthal

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Stuck in an erotic nightmare

Summary

Stuck in an erotic nightmare

Content

Submitted: October 12, 2011

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: October 12, 2011

A A A

A A A


 

“This is my son.”
 
My dad talked to two men in my front yard. My dad wore a brown sport jacket. The fabric was so frothy. The two men he was talking to were equally dressed in coats that were dressy and old fashioned at the same time. Their faces were dark and indiscriminate in the low light of the night. They mostly faced away from me. They had travelled across the mountain range. They talked in low calm voices that were set for night’s rest.
 
I stood holding onto white painted door post in a polite distance. I was standing on one foot, because waiting for them to conclude their discussion made me shift the weight on my knees around. The memory of the excitement of anticipation about getting my dad’s attention was burning in me. My dad is this rock of love. He doesn’t talk much, yet being next to him, I feel warm embracing love.
 
The men he was with held bad memories for me. They took away my dad’s attention. They were bad. They were part of a sect. My dad dilly dallied his whole life with the sect. He always befriended and never committed. They always loved him for the outside things he brought to the sect, like my place to stay for them for the night.
 
I remembered as a kid visiting their Sunday service. The church had been divided into booths so that nobody could see the preacher or other church goers. The women had pushed candy may way with big smiles flaunting any attention to the preacher. I sat there as a little kid in a big leathery booth with plain hard candy in multiple colors in front of me. Though, none of the candy was the good candy, just hard sugar suckers.
 
When I was older, I had researched news archives on the sect. They were on a government watch list. Among the questionable practices was to deny medical services, because to do so was an insult to faith in god to mend things. A child had died. Social services had gotten involved. All members over 25 had yellow, bad, or even lost teeth. My dad would not waver from the side of that sect, because god is real. Yeah right!
 
The men entered my house without a word or even eye contact. My dad laid his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me proud. His eyes were large and black like a little boy feeling deep love. On my inside, I felt all the pretense against the visitors melting. I just wanted to cuddle in his arms and listen to him say ‘everything will be all right.’ I know it won’t. Yet, he believes it so steadfast like a rock that it makes me feel sheltered, a feeling that I missed ever since I started my own life.
 
I tried to tell him that I did not like those men in my house. He pushed me inside without a word. I felt like a little kid. Anger exploded in me for being treated that way. He said, ‘everything will be allright.’ I felt rude for starting a fight with my dad and putting the guest into the predicament of finding a bed after all the hotels in the area had already closed the reception.
 
Nobody turned on the light in the house. They went straight to my bedroom. They only took off the jackets and sweaters. They lay down on my king sized bed side by side. We lay four people side by side in my large king sized bed. The room was dark with barely any light shimmering in from the moon. The comforter was tossed on the floor. Everyone wore dark clothes including dress socks. Heavy breathing filled the room.
 
I took a deep inhale. I surrendered to the night having to pass like this. Listening to their relaxed breathing, everyone was already at sleep. Deep inside of me, I held the feelings of discomfort and anger. I tried to fast forward to the morning to being with my dad alone. The fast forward was interrupted by pressure on my bladder. A few hours had passed and my bladder had filled up. I silently slung out of the bed with my breath held in check to avoid huffing loudly.
 
“Stop! You can’t go in there.”
 
A tall, slim, twenty-year old man held his palm in my face. I instantly recognized him as a member of the sect. His clothes were out of fashion. He had a certain pale look in his face. I saw jackets, shoes, and sweaters dotting the side of the wall. I saw a sleeping body in the dark of my living room. It slowly sunk in that the rest of the sect had followed over the mountain pass and were slowly filing into my house. Apparently, the two leaders had left my door unlocked.
 
Harry, the young man’s name, explained that there was a sequence for people to use the bathroom. There were about 35 of them and one bathroom. He showed me a clipboard, where he wrote me in as the ninth person in line. I had been stripped of my right to use my own bathroom. I had to ask for permission. I didn’t like these house guests at all.
 
I stepped into the living room and looked through the large sliding glass doors into the yard. The yard was lined by a tall, thick hedge. A tree loomed over it. The tips of the grass had already morning mist collecting on them. Tired, young people had found their spots on the grass to sleep. They were huddled into rain jackets and anything that would keep them warm in the damp, cold morning. They were curled on their sides like dogs. The luckier once with higher social status had found space everywhere in the living room, on the bench, under the table. A couple awake ones were busy with my faucet, stove, and tea collection.
 
At this point, it was very hard to get them to leave right now. They simply outnumbered me by too many. I solemnly sat down on my toilet and peed. The bathroom was painted in shades of gray by the night. I deliberated my options. I still felt comfortable in my bathroom. The sect members were very clean folks. They already had organized a cleaning schedule and scrubbed the bathroom at least once. The comforting smell of cleaning solution hung heavy in the air.
 
I stepped out of the bathroom and looked down from the balcony. There was a simple outdoor shower beneath me. It wasn’t properly shielded with a shower curtain, because it was more for cleaning big outdoor things like a surf board or a bike. There was a beautiful nineteen year old girl with a gold long mane. She was in her casual sleepwear. She wore an oversized t-shirt with the pastel drawing of a Native American portrait. She wore shorts that were mostly covered by the t-shirt. Her fleshly legs were naked.
 
The blood in my veins rejuvenated. I made half a step back on the balcony to stay in the shadow. Two men were holding her. Her arms were raised up and two the sides. One man each held her forcibly in place. A scream wanted to come out of me. Yet, my body was frozen. I was unable to move from panic. “I have to save the girl,” raced through my head. I still couldn’t move.
 
I notice the other girls and sect members gathered around her and looking on. They were all very calm with a day-to-day demeanor. And, I further noticed, even though the girl’s muscles were flexed, her face was free of terror. My impulse to act turned into an impulse to blend in. I had a guilty desire to watch the beautiful young girl getting wet. I hoped to see her nipples shining through the wet t-shirt.
 
The water started blasting her chest. It dawned on me that perhaps this was a cleansing ritual. They tore the t-shirt over her shoulders. Her wet boobs sprung free. They were gorgeous, full, and well-shaped. An erection grew in my pants. Steamy air escaped my mouth. Her struggle made it even more of a turn on. There was a sense of deliverance about it that was very sexy. I secretly watched.
 
A middle aged woman tucking on my sleeve interrupted me, “they have given the children white pills.” I was alarmed again. I stormed into the room. The room had a gaggle of kids sitting on the floor with coloring books, crayons, and wood toys. A supervising woman was standing in the corner. I asked the next girl, what kind of white pills they had been taken. The little girl told me not to worry, because they had read many stories about the effects and knew what it meant.
 
I fished around the little children hands, until I found a little cardboard box with two pills. They were white and coated. They could be candy. They could be head ache pills. They could be something more sinister. The whole atmosphere and demeanor of the supervising woman suggested something sinister. Perhaps, the drugs were modifying the children or getting them addicted. This deserved action. I ran out of the house.
 
I ran out of the front door. I ran through my front lawn. I crashed through the white picket fence door. I ran down the sidewalk, searching for anybody to have a cellphone and call 911. A block down, I found an elder woman, who let me call 911. I called in the sect and my worst worries about what they might do to those innocent children.
 
A member of the sect acting as a guard had caught up to me. He was wearing uni-colored clothes. He had a turtle neck with long sleeves. He tried to wrestle me. I wrestled his arms back with all my mind. An impulse in my head told me fight for my life and bash in his head. The impulse told me to bash and bash my fists and feet into his head without pause and hesitation. Yet, I was stuck in a struggle, where neither of us moved an inch.
 
A police woman showed up. She was black, overweight, and waddled. She had big puffy hair under her police hat. She looked a lot like Bailey from Grey’s Anatomy. I rushed to explain to the officer that I was the good guy. I tried to make her act to save the children. She listened intently to me and then stepped back and pointed at the guard.
 
The guard had stepped aside. His bald head had begun to shrink in grow rhythmically like a hard beat. It was like his head had turned into a puffer fish. Then, he reached one hand in a large circle deep inside his jacket pocket. “Gun,” I screamed to the cop. I was terrified with fear about to be shot. The cop froze not being able to belief what she saw. Water bubbles formed near his hand. The water bubbles were standing in the air. More and more water bubbles coalesced in the air. They formed a spiral upwards path.
 
“His religion is real,” mumbled the cop and walked away in reverence. I was left with the guard, who was clearly stronger than I was. I wanted to call his magic trick. However, there was no point. I walked back to my house defeated.
 
My dad and the two sect elders apprehended me in the foyer of my house. With privacy away from the rest of the sect, my dad asked me, “What kind of nonsense are you doing? Why would you call the police?” The sect elders faced away from me. My dad looked at me with big eyes of love. And, I knew there was no point in arguing. He would not even engage in argument. “Dad, they are giving kids pills.” My dad only repeated, “What kind of nonsense are you doing?” It would go on like this forever. He’d simply repeat and not engage in anything I’d say. So, I was silent.
 
After a minute of tense silence, my dad smiled to signal that the topic was resolved. Then, he asked friendly, ‘how is work going?’ ‘We lost another contract. Our boss gave us the wrong specifications. And, the client canceled the contract. It was very disappointing after working the whole weekend.’
 
‘Son, I don’t understand why you are always in such pit of depression.’
 
‘Dad, I’m not depressed. I’m sharing the frustration at my job.’
 
‘You know what your problem is? You always look at yourself! You always look at yourself. I want this. I want that. How do I look the best? You should look at Jesus and everything would be fine.’
 
I felt deeply frustrated with the conversation. Of course, I had been thinking the last weeks a lot about switching jobs and my career options. I had pondered my contribution to losing the client. That’s part of reflecting on a problem.
 
“Dad, part of making my life better is reflecting on how I did and what I should do next.”
 
“No, you need to look at Jesus, and everything will be all right. You never listen to me. Yet, I can see so clearly what you are doing. You get into this pit of depression that you can’t get out of on your own. As long as you keep thinking about yourself, you will be stuck.”
 
“Dad, I’m not depressed. Everyone would have a negative emotional reaction to losing a client for a bad reason.”
 
“I still love you. You are my son. Go to the girl’s in the kitchen. We have business to discuss.”
 
I was fuming and glad to get out of that situation. I entered my kitchen. The kitchen had been turned into a group kitchen. The dining table was turned into a prep table with cutting boards and piles of vegetables. The biggest pots were working on the stove. Three young women worked together. They were dressed with long colorful dresses of soft cotton. The draping of the clothes felt snuck and cozy.
 
The nineteen year old from the morning was working a pile of celery with a large chef’s knife. Her long blond hair curled slightly as it fell over her shoulder. She had dark brown eye brows and lagoon-pure blue eyes. Her lips were fully shaped. Her cheeks were rosy from working. Her face had a disposition of being happy and in charge. Her slender hands folded over the vegetables and knife. “Here is a towel go dry some dishes.”
 
I took the towel from her docile like a pet dog. I smiled huge on the inside and gently on the outside upon seeing her. The cotton fabric of the towel felt familiar in my hand. I felt kind of happy being part of a group. There was definitely a happy atmosphere in the kitchen on the verge of breaking out singing.
 
“Are those pretty water paintings in the hallway yours? They are lovely!”
 
I smiled big for being recognized. “Yes, I’ve been taking evening classes and dilly-dallied a bit into arts.”
 
“I admire artists. What does it feel like to paint for you?”
 
Her smiling lips, twinkling eyes, and rapt attention made my chest swell with happiness. I was gushing to spew out the words that had been stored in my mind during long lonely monologues, “It’s not about moving the brush. It is about seeing. It’s the illusion that people think it is about moving the brush. It’s really about being able to see the world. See most people think left brain. They recognize a car as a car. However, they fail to use their right brain to see the white highlights and all the splotches of colors as splotches of colors instead of as pieces of the car. I don’t know if you can understand. However, when you switch your mind from seeing a car to seeing the colors without their meaning, it’s amazing.”
 
“You are so smart! Will you paint me?”
 
I was overexcited. I must have had two angels singing in my ear, because they were flaming red. I put the drying towel aside and pulled out my sketch board.
 
“Do I have to stand still?”
 
“No, you can keep moving and cooking.”
 
She had this coy smile of excitement running over her lips with a little shoulder raise. I gazed at her face, those cheeks, those ears, and all the dreamy locks of hair that I wanted to get my fingers in. I wanted to brush the lost strand of hair out of her face with a gentle hand. I used the pretense of the artist to look at her boobs. Even though, she was wearing a conservative dress, I could easily tell their full shape. They would fill my hands fully. And, then she had this wonderful cluster of freckles right next to her nose.
 
Dinner arrived way too fast. 35 hungry mouths were waiting to be fed. I put the sketch book away to pretend to look useful for the last five minutes. Sect members sat everywhere on the floor, in the hallway, in the bathroom. They used all my plates, bowls, cups, and pots as container for their food. It was a quiet dedicated meal. As it wound down, people started reclining against the wall or another back, whatever they could find.
 
The two sect elders pulled a few people including me into the room, where the children had been in the morning. They waved their hand for me to leave my plate, where I was. A low ranking sect member quickly swooped by to pick it up and carry it to the sink. The room was lined with chairs around the wall. The single light bulb painted the room orange. Everyone was quiet and attentive to the sect elders.
 
The two sect elders raised their hands into the air and silently prayed. Everyone either stared on the floor or at the ceiling in reverence. The air felt heavy. I felt bored. I could not move, because everyone was still. I did not have thoughts to think. I wondered a bit that all my stuff was gone out of the room. And, all my chairs were brought in. I stole a glance at the nineteen year old, who was also part of the select group.
 
The elders opened their eyes. With raspy voices, they slowly with many pauses announced: “Katie will pass a rite today. You all know this story of the New Testament: The prostitute, the whore, and the lowliest arrived at one of Jesus’ gatherings. She displayed her humility and servitude by washing everyone’s feet at the door. Now, you must know that back then, people were wearing sandals. All the dust of the streets collected on their feet. And, the streets were not clean. There were no street sweepers. A lot of garbage was thrown in the street. And, that saintly woman used her own tears and hair to wash the feet of everyone.”
 
The elder looked around the room. There was a quiet nervousness. Katie was apparently the nineteen year old from the shower this morning. Her cheeks were flushed red. The elder continued, “humility and servitude are the sweetest offering that a woman can have. Katie is going to follow that saintly woman’s footsteps. She will go around the room and kiss all your feet. Please, don’t start chatting and support her with your energy through this challenge.”
 
Katie slid her butt of the chair and kneeled down with her dress. She shuffled two steps toward the elder’s feet. Her body was hunched over on the ground with her knees tucked under. She bowed to the feet on the ground. Her hair fell forward. She brushed it to one side. I could clearly see her full lips kissing the brown, sinewy feet of the elder with the age spots. Her soft moist lips placed big sloppy kisses on the back of the foot, as she worked her way up the arch. Everyone had very supportive faces.
 
She moved on to the next person, a young fair skinned eighteen year old girl with thin, straight hair. The younger girl giggled at the touch of Katie’s lips. Katie ever patiently and slowly handled the feet in her hand, moving them sideways to cover every angle. Katie moved on to the guard. He was wearing sneakers and white socks.  She delicately loosened the knot. She slipped his feet out. She rolled down the socks. She brushed away the white lint from the sock. The skin on his foot had imprints from the sock. She kissed his slightly smelly foot all the like.
 
Finally, she reached my feet. It was unbelievably to see her kneeling in front of me, beneath me. She was kneeling in a small space under all of her clothes. She threw me a warm smile that told me that she loved the chance to connect with me after our chat in the kitchen. With her leaning forward, I could see deeply down her décolleté. Because she didn’t wear a snug bra, her boobs were hanging forward. That line between her boobs was so delicate. My head start feeling hot.
 
Her lips came down on my foot. It was so soft and so moist, an astonishing feeling. One of the sect elders stopped her. My face must have gotten even r redder.
 
“Katie, you are doing very well. Everyone here is supporting you. It is time that you live up to the full extent of the scriptures. The holy book not only says that the saintly woman cleaned the feet, but that she used her own tears to clean her feet.”
 
“Jim (that’s me), you are going to spank her with your belt.” My eyes widened. I panicked at the thought. I had dreamed many secret dreams about spanking a girl. Yet, I knew that there was trouble in carrying out certain fantasies. “Jim, lift her dress off her behind to expose her skin.”
 
My heart was pounding. I was about to make a giant gaffe. If I didn’t do anything, I’d be a weird unresponsive guy. If I lifted a girl’s dress bottom, I would be in a terrible trouble for the rest of my life. The guard next to me motioned with his hands for me to flick her dress over her butt. Everyone looked at me in a way to confirm that what I had thought I had heard was true.
 
The adrenaline was pumping inside of me. My lungs felt huge and cavernous. My lips seemed to quiver out of control with the tingling that radiated through me. My hand was shaking. I leaned over Katie. I lifted her dress hem onto her back. A white G-string left most of her butt naked and exposed to the orange light bulb in the room. Everyone looked on rapt. I waited for two seconds, expecting out cries. Nobody cried wolf. I had made it, the lucky fortitude of staring down her bottom without getting into trouble.
 
The sect elder continued, “take off your belt and hold onto the buckle end.” I slithered my belt through the jeans loops. It felt like Katie was cowering into a tighter ball close to my feet in anticipation of a sensation never felt before. I held the belt tight in one fist and the curled length in the other.
 
“Now, spank her.”
 
“Really?!”
 
“Really!” the sect elder copied me in a voice of a teenage slang, like I was a dummy that needed confirmation for everything. The whole room erupted in laughter as the tension was released. I threw the belt end high into the air, drew the belt softly down, and let it fall onto Katie’s ass with a gentle thud.
 
The sect elder smacked his hands together so hard in a clap that everyone’s ear drums felt a harsh pop. The echo of the hand slap fell back and force between the barren walls three times, before it rang out. Everyone felt completely snapped out of whatever mood and thoughts they had before. “Hit as hard as you can,” and he added an angry “really.”
 
I felt terrified. I gripped the belt buckle tight in my hand. I looked deeply into Katie’s blue eyes. She nodded at me, confirming with her whole being to follow the order. I exhaled hard, all of my air out. I took all my strength. To put that much determination into something made me lose the cap that I held on my anger. I always kept my anger and frustration in check, so that I would never act out. That’s why I lived my life so gentle. However, to muster all my strength, to send that 100% never impulse to my muscles, I had to abandon myself control. I bit my lips harshly in a last effort to keep some of the anger inside. I felt like my eyes were sending black thunder clouds of anger out. And, the belt hit hard on Katie’s butt. I could feel the crack in my ears. I saw the ripples in the flesh of her butt as the force dissipated. I felt this deeply cathartic release from having lashed out at something, someone.
 
At the same time, Katie erupted with guttural scream from the depth of her being. It wasn’t a scream consciously formed. It was a scream quenched out of the deepest unfiltered inside. And, that scream was so real that I could feel it reverberate in my own skin. My own skin was tingling like pulled with hooks. It was such a strong contact high. It opened up the part of me, where I keep all my muffled screams locked up. All the times in my life, when I felt sad and hurt, I always shut in the screams with ‘I’m fine.’ And, Katie’s scream came from that place. I love that place deeply. I don’t let anyone know my pain, because I protect it from rude people, mindless people, and rejection. Her deep scream touched that places in me.
 
The sect elder had me lick Katie’s ass with my belt like that over and over. The place of the first lash turned slightly red by the time that I had reached the fifth. It was like her flesh has a memory and slowly revealed the lashes over time. Katie was sobbing in emotional turmoil over my feet. Her tears were running over my foot. Her warm, wet lips were lapping my feet with complete abandon. Her face had turned so moist that everything on my feet was moist. Her hair had draped over my feet to keep in the moisture. I was such in the throes of emotion that I was sweating everywhere. I could not think a straight thought. I felt out of control.
 
When the sect elder made Katie move on, I was deeply in personal process. She threw small smile up at me through her watery eyes before she moved on. Reality kind of tore for me. I was busy with my emotions. Katie had a mellower time after the session with me. By the end, everyone gave her a group hug and congratulated her. I still had the photographic memories of her at my feet flashing through my mind.
 
By the evening, I was told by the sect guard that I was to sleep on the floor in my bedroom. More important sect leaders had arrived that deserved a spot in my large king sized bed. Luckily, I had two big fluffy, white carpets in my bedroom. It was kind of nice to feel the soft fur. Yet, it was strange to sleep with five other men on the floor and five men in my bed. My dad had left some time during the day without telling me bye. I was alone with the sect.
 
I listened to them breathing. I smelled the ragout of body smells. There was cheesy foot smell. There was the stern smell of arm pits of a stressed man. There was a bit of old man smell. My eyes climbed up the curtains. I tried to see shapes in the folds of the curtain. I must have fallen asleep, because I had pressure on my bladder again.
 
In the hallway, the restroom assigner took my name on the clipboard again. I had to wait for five other people to use my bathroom. While I waited, I looked around the living room. People were strewn everywhere to sleep. Sleeping inside was much better than in the wet grass. So, the inside was packed with people lying side by side. My eyes traced their bodies lying in the half light of the night. Some was hidden in the shadow. Some was visible.
 
Guys tended to sleep in jeans and t-shirts. I saw some of the twenty-something kitchen girls lying there. Girls had more varied clothing. Some had dresses. Some had thrown off the dresses to avoid crumpling them. I saw a black pantie revealed under a disheveled pajama. I saw slender girly legs. I found Katie’s face. I marveled at the classically hedonic cut of her face. She turned. The large sleeping t-shirt on her body was pulled sideways and her boob fell out. The boob had been pressed flat from sleeping on it earlier. I saw the red lines in her skin, where the fabric folds had pressed it. I almost wished that I were sleeping in the pile of young people with their intimate clothes moving around, feeling their breath, dreams, and energy.
 
I carefully kept my eyes wondering and my feet moving to avoid being seen as starring by the bathroom guy. I caught a girl reaching inside of her pant to scratch her butt cheek. I saw a twenty something’s mouth gaping open in the abandon of sleep. Her cheeks were kind of pushed together from lying on the side. I could not help but imagine my hard cock between her lips.
 
It was my turn for the bathroom. When I held my penis to pee, I felt like on edge, like any touch to my penis would send me off into a wanking session. The erotic stimulation of the day was so potent. My eyes wandered through the bathroom. The sink counter was completely filled with bottles and sponges from the sect members. Towels were neatly folded everywhere. Every bar hand many towels draped over it. I had to resist touching my penis the slightest to avoid the point of no return into getting release. There were people with keen ears waiting outside of the bathroom for me to finish. I flushed and washed my hands.
 
The next morning woke me abruptly. All the sect members had their roles assigned. There was bustling action in my house with the break of dawn. I sat there for a minute and took all my resolve. I walked up to one of the sect elders and told him, “I have to go to work now. By the time, I come home this evening, you are all gone.”
 
“Now, you are going to call your work and say that you are sick. You will stay here.”
 
“I am not going to do that. I am a free man. This is my house.”
 
All the young strong men were called into the bedroom. They surrounded me. They placed my cordless phone in my hand. The same guard from yesterday, put his hand on my throat, and placed his thumb on my Adam’s apple. I felt my life hanging from a string. I dialed the work number. The cheery receptionist picked up. I told her that I was sick. She wanted to transfer me. Yet, the sect elder took the phone out of my hand and hung up.
 
“We will talk about this after breakfast,” said the sect elder and left the room. The young men slowly filed out as well. I didn’t quite know what to do. I knew that I couldn’t walk out the front door. Could I sneak out the cellar window? It would be easy to spot me from the yard. I needed to keep the escape options with small chance close to my chest. I needed some kind of combination of diversion in the right place and sneaking out the other end.
 
I quietly ate my breakfast with the mob of people in my house. Katie sat close by me, yet not directly next to me. Feeling her around made me feel better. I threw glances at her. She looked away. Yet, whenever I looked down on my food, I felt like a warm glance appraising me from the side. It was strange. Did I believe what I wanted? That she was into me? Or, was she really into me?
 
Breakfast ended early. The two sect elders announced my baptism. The mob of hands gently, yet overwhelmingly pushed me into the yard. There was a big wooden barrel that used to be the pot for a palm tree. They had filled it with water. The village elders had their arms raised high and were reading from the scripture. A tight circle had formed around us. The sect stood shoulder to shoulder. I felt like a trapped animal without even an inch of an escape path.
 
They demanded that I take off my clothes. I obeyed. They insisted to strip my underwear as well. I stood naked in my white skin showing off my average built. I felt so stripped of everything, my house, my job, my ability to make decisions, and now my clothes. They made me sit in the wooden barrel of water. It was so small that I had to squeeze my knees close to my chest. The sect elders put their hands on my head. It was rather quick. Yet, I realized that I had lost my outsider status and was now the lowliest of their sect.
 
The guard with the turtle neck stepped into the circle. He took of his clothes calm, decisive, and without emotion. He handed them to me. One of the sect elders explained that I had left my old life and clothes behind. The worn clothes of the young man felt strange. They still had his essence on him. The briefs were stretched to fit his balls and cock. They felt uncomfortably loose and tight in places. I could smell his intimate smell constantly. His skin had rubbed off the scent on his clothes.
 
Everyone left me to go after their assigned chores, except for Katie. She meandered up to me in coy wavering little-girl steps. She poked her index finger at me in a very reluctant, coy fashion. And, she smiled with her cheeks pressing against her eyes: “I saw your weenie!”
 
I felt so endeared by her girlish joy at seeing my manhood. At the same time, her behavior suggested to me that I should feel embarrassed like something had been stolen from me. Though, I really loved for her to see my manhood and enjoy it. I felt uncomfortable and leaned back.
 
“I know something that you don’t,” she added victoriously turning her hips side to side.
 
“Now, what is that?”
 
“I’ll whisper it in your ear!”
 
I leaned forward. She almost pushed her body onto mine, when she cupped my ear with both her hands. She was in my intimate space. I could feel the essence of her whole body in front of me. It gave me this unsteady feeling like I was swimming and simply wanted to surrender into her. Yet, I had to hold myself back.
 
She whispered with lots of warm air feeling my ear to the point of making it drip, “now that you are part of the sect, we are all married together. You are my husband. I am your wife. Do you know what husbands and wives can do together?” She exploded into giggling that she could not contain. She was bending over, looking into the sky, and erupted into another wave of giggles.
 
“Talk? Share kitchen chores? Make babies???”
 
“Make babies! Yeah! That’s one way of putting it. Haven’t you noticed how many young people are in the sect. There is a lot of baby making going on. We just can’t do it in public, because that leads to jealousy.”
 
“You… You want my baby already?”
 
“Noooo.” Katie turned her eyes in a seductive fashion.
 
I felt like she wanted me to tell her that we could fuck any time we wanted to. However, I am not used to telling girls that I barely know that we should fuck each other. Past experience suggests that they get offended, when they are even proposed to holding hands or having a lingering hug.
 
“Don’t you know a hiding place in your house? You’ll find out there!” added Katie impatiently.
 
Well, I knew off the attic. There was a secret tile in the ceiling that allowed one to crawl into a small attic space that was little bigger than what was needed to life flat and turn around. As busy as the sect was in going through every cranny of my house, they probably missed it.
 
I walked Katie there. I got up on a chair and pushed the ceiling tile up and to the side. Then, I lifted Katie up. I placed on hand under her butt bone to push her up. I felt her firm ass in my hand. It was delicious. Her soft, arched feet stepped on my shoulders and head. It sent tingling through my whole body to feel her. I reached up with my arms. My penis was hard. I pulled half way. I reached with my foot for the cupboard top and pushed a little higher. Katie not helping much pulled on my upper arms.
 
Once we were both inside, she looked at me with this severely anticipative look: “Close the lid and I’ll tell you.” I closed the lid. There were a few punctures that let light in. I switched on the emergency light bulb. Katie’s lips darted for mine. Her moist tongue and lips devoured me. She wrapped her body around mine. We could not stand or sit up in the small space. So, we rolled on top of each other.
 
Overwhelmed by the arousal of her lips and full body contact, my arms and mouth worked on instinct. My hands explored her back, slipped under her t-shirt, unleashed the bra, felt up her butt. Her tongue was hungry to explore my mouth, teeth, and own tongue. She pulled around my jeans buttons with more enthusiasm than success, yet got them ripped open. Feeling late to the game, my hand dove deep under her pants, felt the laces of her panties, went deeper to feel the soft skin and crease of her butt.
 
Impatiently, she ripped her t-shirt over her head. My hands and mouth instantly cupped her large breast that felt soft and pliable. Sucking on her nipples, I got this huge contact high from her arousal. She begged me with a soft bedroom voice: “Feel how wet I am!”
 
I reached down the front of her pants. Girl pants are so tiny. Where guys have five buttons up front, her low rise jeans had only two buttons. It was like distance from the top of her jeans to her pussy was almost instantaneous. I felt the familiar touch of a pussy in my hand. I felt her lips, clitoris, and the slicker than water wetness. Now, I knew that I was going to have sex with her.
 
She playfully bit my neck and then pulled her pants off in impatience. Feeling her hot body wringing beneath my body was intense. All my skin was sensitive to feeling her. I was deeply aroused. My raging hard dick was nestled between us and rubbed around her belly, while we devoured each other in impatient passion.
 
“I don’t have a condom.”
 
“I want to feel your skin. Don’t worry, I am on the pill.”
 
“But, HIV.”
 
“Don’t worry, we are all tested. Just tell me that you are clean. And, I’ll believe you.”
 
“I am.”
 
She touched my penis and slipped it inside of her. Feeling her slippery slick pussy around my penis was like leaving this world. I moaned slowly into her ear. She licked my ear. It was such an intense wet feeling in my ear.
 
My clarity drowned in rapture. I was kissing, biting, nippling, caressing, humping every which way without thought. I could feel the arousal and passion building in her. And, it led me deeper. We came inside of each other without a barrier. My wet nectar filled her womb. I started feeling the dust bunnies on my butt. She showered me with soft kisses all over my face. The sweat pearls were running down my back. I played with the sweat pearls on her belly.
 
We got dressed and snuck down from our love nest. People gave us knowing glances. I knew that I had to get away from the sect. I did not know, how I could make her understand that this sect was not good. Love can be so complicated.
 
About two hours later, the ground vibrated. I looked out of the window. Two black tanks were rolling down the street with SWAT written on them. Sect members were running and found an odd medley of guns: grand pa rifles, girly girl shooters, full automatic assault rifles. I panicked. The first shots started ringing outside. Holes of white light appeared in the wall facing the street. Gun fire erupting from inside of the building shot my ear drums instantly. I could only hear silence and a faint high pitched sound. It also threw off my sense of balance.
 
I grabbed Katie by the hand, ran out the back door, and jumped through the back hedge. There was a steep wooded slope at the back of the house. The SWAT team would not have been able to set up positions there. We slid, fell, rolled, and ran down the slope. “We have to fight,” screamed Katie. “No, the fight is already over. We have to survive.” I pulled her on.
 
Overhead, I heard a helicopter pulling after us. The sound of the rotors was muffled by the tree tops. I ran out the slop onto the flat side. There was a field. I kept running and pulling Katie my love with me. I heard rapid soft pops. The knee deep golden wild grass next to us was twitching. I felt dirt and pebbles on the ground sharply flung against my shins. I never felt the bullets piercing my legs. I simply went down, soft and sound into the wild grass.
 
I still had Katie’s hand in my mine. Yet, her face looked lifeless into the distance. Her eyes were a bit milky and shiny. I lay flat in the ground and looked ahead. There was a bright orange-red flower. The color was vibrant. The petals were juicy and full. It was a Kornflower. The sect was named after the flower valley of Kornflower – “Kornthal.”
 


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