Stacy walked out of her favorite boutique on 5th avenue. It wasn’t her favorite because of the service, or the fashions or how exclusive it was. She loved it for the lack of security. She always bought something to keep the suspicion down. Her father was richer than Croesus, and paid her Centurion card. He didn’t even nag her for her spending. She did it more for the thrill.
She had with her a bag holding a newly purchased dress, and in her purse were two stolen blouses and a necklace. She would thank that skank Paris Hilton for popularizing the huge purses, but she and the bitch were lo longer talking. The bitch knew what she did.
Stacy loved the new dress, it was a light shift that hung off her thin frame. It had ruffles in the front that gave the impression that she had large breasts. It had a deep v in the front that went down almost to her navel and slits up the side that almost went as far up as the neckline went down. It accentuated her slim figure and
Stacy stepped into her waiting limo and told the driver to take her back to her penthouse. The driver pointed the car uptown and pulled into the New York traffic. She started to shift her stolen swag from her purse into the shopping bag and smiled to herself. The blouse was so cute, she was going to wear it tonight.
Her driver pulled into the garage of her apartment building and she climbed out of the car and headed for the elevator. Punching in the special code, the door opened immediately and she climbed in.
Halfway up the elevator shuddered to a halt and her phone rang. She grabbed her blinged out top of the line Android phone. She had paid a small fortune to a jeweler to replace the standard case with one made of gold and diamonds, not merely “crystals” but actual diamonds. Her father had almost shit himself when he saw the price, but a little pouting and he agreed that it was worth it as a status symbol.
She answered it screaming, “Help the elevator stopped and I’m trapped.”
“I know. I trapped you.” A computerized voice on the other end responded. “The elevator will start moving soon and then you will do exactly as I say or your life will be destroyed.”
Stacy angrily spat back. “Yeah, how? My dad is rich and powerful. He has friends. He will find out who you are and crush you like a bug.”
“What would he say if his daughter was a thief?” Her phone buzzed with several incoming messages. The first ones were her pictures of her “purchases” along with the receipts showing many fewer items actually purchased.
“That doesn’t prove anything! I don’t get receipts for everything. Sometimes I get things as gifts. I am so popular it boosts the cachet of the brand having me wear it.”
Her phone buzzed again and inside was a video of a dressing room and her loading items into her purse.
“Daddy will understand. He will pay off the store, or even buy them out. No harm, no foul.”
“What about if you were a liar.” The mechanical voice replied and the phone buzzed again. A series of pictures came through. A few of them were her testimonies in various traffic accidents, things along the lines of “I wasn’t drinking.”, “He ran into me.”, “This is the first time I ever sped.”. The rest were proof that she had been lying. Drug and alcohol tests showing her highly impaired, accident reconstructions, and multiple traffic cam photos.
“It’s nothing everyone lies about that.”
“What about a murderer?” The voice said dispassionately. The phone buzzed and a series of newspaper clips came in. “Rapist Dies of AIDS, Heiress Unconcerned.” The attached article talked about Stacy’s supposed rapist had contracted AIDS in prison and died from it. Stacy’s response had been “It served him right.” Then came images of blood tests and semen samples showing that there was no match what so ever and finally a came a copy of a letter from the law firm who represented her father to a totally unknown public defender offering him a job, along with a comment of, “If you lose your current rape case, we understand and the offer still stands.”
“Daddy already knows about that and it’s covered. He and everyone else is in as deeply as I am.”
“That young boy adored you. He never touched you and his only experience with sex was prison rape. I had hoped you would see the error of your ways and repent.”
There was a pause.
“What about something that concerns your father more, what about his business. He is about to close a major deal with Mittal steel worth billions, what if TMZ got their hands on this?”
Her phone buzzed a final time and there was a clip of her, in an Indian restaurant. She was drunk and ranting. “I want a fucking steak, is it too hard to get a fucking piece of sirloin from you mother fucking dot heads. You all stink. There is this mother-fucking funk hanging around all of you cocksuckers. I don’t want chicken tikka-fuck whatever or a yellow curry, red curry or any other fucking curry. I just want a steak. I know you twat-waffles know what a steak is. I’ve been to India, the whole fucking place is fucking crawling with mother fucking cows. So go kill one, cut me off a tender piece, wrap it in a fucking piece of bacon and bring it right the fuck here, right the fuck now.”
Stacy recognized it. She had been drunk and stoned. She was sure there were more things on video, worse things, her mocking their accent, asking them to fix her computer. It was a long tragic night that she wished she could relive. She knew her father would kill her. This would destroy a multibillion dollar deal, enough money that even he would notice.
“I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever.”
“Go upstairs, take off all of your clothes. There is a package waiting. Inside are two syringes. Inject them in your thigh. Put on your green sweater and only the green sweater and head down back down to the car and wait instructions.”
When she got to her apartment there was a FedEx box with no listed sender. Inside was a hard plastic case with two syringes packed in foam. She pulled the syringes out and then injected them, one into each thigh.
She knew the sweater her blackmailer was talking about. It barely came down below her crotch, it fell off of her shoulder and had a few revealing holes that she had used to show off her bras. She never wore it out without at least a pair of leggings and a lace top. Now if she bent over or sat down her pussy was on display. If she moved wrong, one of the nipple of her tiny breasts would pop out. She put in a bluetooth headset so she could be sure to get her instructions and be sure that other people wouldn’t notice.
When she got down to the garage her phone rang. “You’ve been a naughty girl. It is time you confess your sins. Leave the phone on, I want to listen. On the drive there, give your driver a show.” The phone buzzed with an address in the Bronx. Stacy climbed in the back and lowered the divider between her and the driver. She spread her legs showing him her bald pussy and then took her fingers and began to stroke her slit. She knew she was dry and not into it. The voice on the phone was insistent that she give a good show and enjoy it. Her middle finger ran between her lips and she pinched her index and ring fingers in squeezing her nether lips between them. She rubbed her hand up and down pulling at the labia and rubbing her clit. With a smile she felt her lubrication begin to seep and her pussy moisten. She was getting horny, turned on by showing of. She took her pinky and started to circle the folds of skin covering her clit. She smiled as she rubbed harder. She reached down and pulled the sweater up off her head and used her other hand to rub her tiny pink nipples. She locked eyes with her driver and then plunged her fingers into her molten womanhood. She spread her fingers wide and started to pound them in. All the while she was watching the driver. He had been driving her around for almost a decade and she didn’t even know his name, but at this moment she felt connected to him on a deep level. His breath was speeding up to match hers. She thought of her fingers as his cock as she drove them in and out. She pinched a nipple and imagined his teeth closing around around it.
She wanted to close her eyes in pleasure but her eyes were fixed on his. She gave on final thrust of her fingers into her pussy and pulled hard on her left nipple and shuddered. Her whole body was shaking as she felt wave after wave of pleasure roll over her her. Her driver gave a brief shudder and she wondered if he came merely from watching the show. She knew she would have to fire him. There was no way she was going to have help around who had seen her in such a compromising position.
The car arrived at the destination, a ramshackle Catholic church in a bad neighborhood. She adjusted her sweater to cover up as much as she could and then stepped out of the car. She was shocked but the amount of garbage around and the homeless people walking the streets. There were bums sitting in cardboard boxes. In the front of the church was a priest in vestments that were fraying around the edges. Most people wouldn’t notice it but Stacy did. He was definitely not her type. In addition to the tattered robes he was almost twice her age. He had unkempt salt and pepper hair and a beard that had probably last been shaved on Sunday, almost a week ago.
“That was a good show you put on, and don’t you dare fire that driver. He will work for you until the day he dies. If he wants to quit, give him a show so that he will stay. Before you say anything, look at this.” Her phone buzzed and there was a photo showing her fingering herself and the driver watching intently.
“Go up to the priest and tell him you want to confess. Then I want you to suck your absolution out of his cock. That will be a bit of hard sell, since he was sent here because he was molesting choir boys. Then again you seem to have the body of a young boy, get your boney ass in there, tell him everything and then blow his mind.”
Stacy walked up to the priest and whispered in his ear. “I need to get some things off my chest. I need to confess.”
The priest walked inside and led her to the confessional booth. She walked in one side and he walked in the other.
“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know the ritual.”
“Just tell me what you’ve done my child.”
Stacy broke down and started to tell about the petty theft, and the traffic accidents. She talked about making fun of minorities and finally she came to the rape accusation. How she lied on the stand and ruined that poor boys life. She told the priest how he had been raped in prison. When she said that he had been abused she heard the priests breath quicken. She wondered if he was getting excited.
“Um, it’s getting stuffy in here, can we go some place else.”
“What ever makes you comfortable. A lot of people prefer this so that they don’t have to look at me when they spill their souls. We can go back to my office if you like.”
Stacy stepped out of the cubical and got in front of the priest and started to head back to the office area. She carefully lifted the back of her sweater showing her bare ass. She had never been happy with how boyish it looked but this time she thought it might be an advantage.
“It’s just up the stairs.” The priest said.
“Could you give me a bit of hand.” She asked and he rested a hand on her ass his middle finger sliding between in her crack and tickling her shining star of an asshole. She had never liked to have men back there but she thought it might be the only way.
They walked up the staircase with his middle finger working its way deeper into her. When they got up to his office, it was even hotter there.
“Excuse me.” She said. “This is so much better and airy, but it’s still hot.” She lifted off the sweater revealing her A-cup breasts and tiny nipples.
“I guess it just hit me how terrible it was that I sent him to jail.” She turned away feigning embarrassment but at the same time revealing her ass to the priest. He moved closer to her to listen and she smelt his body odor. He stunk of onions and cheap whisky. She knew what she had to do.
Stacy backed her bare ass up against the priest and felt his massive cock straining against his cassock. “It just devastates me to think of those men shoving their long hard cocks into his virgin ass.” She lowered her hips and ground harder against the priest. “What would make a man do that? Why would anyone want to put their hard cock into someones tight asshole like than and fill it up with their spunk. I know you haven’t always been a priest, have you ever had you cock in a young man’s ass? Even if they didn’t want it?”
The priest had stopped breathing. She looked down between her legs and could see his robe going up and his underwear was already around his ankles. “I don’t like cocks in my ass. I imagine that is part of thrill of the rape though. Having control, violating someone against their will. Taking something that they don’t want to give.”
Stacy was feeling trepidation now. She knew the only way she could convince him to let her suck his cock was if he could put it in her ass. She didn’t want it in her ass though. It hurt enough when normally sized guys did it, but the old priest had monster cock. It was at least 9 inches long and as big around as her wrist. “I really don’t want to have a cock in my ass.” She said with real fear. That was when she felt it. With a single solid push he had the head of his prick in her ass and past her sphincter. He grabbed her hips and pulled her onto him.
“Come here boy, you’ll like it. When I was your age my parish priest did it to me. Made me into the man I am today.” With a shove he got it another inch in and then pulled back a bit. As he pulled back her shit lubricated his cock and her ass and he could get a bit further in.
“It’s important to take care of these urges in the right way. It’s wrong to fornicate with women. Sex is for making children. This is really just taking care of these urges, right son? You would do the same thing in my position.”
Stacy was in pain. She had never had anything that big inside her. She could feel it stretch out her belly as he pushed in. She felt full up. She felt like she need to poop but couldn’t. She wanted to scream in pain but knew it would break his concentration.
The priest reached a hand around her front and started to feel her hairless crotch, he leaned in, his breath stinking of whisky. “You are a young one aren’t you? Not even growing hair yet. We’ll make a man out of you yet. Don’t be shy now, let me feel your cock for you. It’s not masturbation or sinful when I do it for you.”
Stacy realized just how into the fantasy of fucking a young boy he was. He didn’t realize that he was balls deep in a 25 year old woman who most certainly didn’t have a cock. She had an idea and snuck a hand down between her legs. She took her pinky and slid it into his grasping hand.
“What a cute little cock. You’ll learn how to use this when you are older but in the meantime let me.”
The old pedophile began to stroke her pinkie like it was a little cock while his pounded her ass. His speed picked up. “Oh that’s so good. Stay there, just like that.” She could tell that he getting close. He slammed deep into her and started cumming.
Stacy pulled away and turned around just in time to get a shot in the face. She wrapped her lips around his shit covered cock and started to suck. She was shocked at the bitter taste of it. She had only given blowjobs a couple of times and had never tasted poop before. She grimaced at the taste and sucked the last few spurts of cum out of the old man’s cock.
“Now swallow.” Came the mechanical voice in her head. As a reflex she followed the command and swallowed her first load of cum ever.
“Go home, have a good meal, tomorrow will be busy.” The voice told her and then hung up.
When Stacy got back to the penthouse the first thing she did was take a hot shower to try and get clean, to get the scent and sperm of the dirty old priest off of her. She couldn’t quite seem to get clean. She got out of the shower and felt suddenly hungry. She called down to the front desk and asked him to arrange a pizza, some Chinese food and an enema kit. She had never had an enema before but felt like she needed it.
She started to eat the large pizza and read the instruction on the enema kit. Half the pizza was gone before she realized it. She took the enema bag and the box of General Tso’s chicken to the bathroom. She filled the bag with warm water and added baking soda and salt like the instructions said. She took a bite of the chicken, surprised at how hungry she was getting.
She inserted the tube into her asshole and then hung the bag. As she sat onto the toilet she felt the warm water start to fill her up. The warm sensation inside her started to spread and she idly rubbed her clit as she ate the sweet and spicy chicken dish.
When she finished the food she took her other hand and began to rub her breasts. Her tiny tits seemed sensitive and her nipples were hurting but she felt the need to orgasm. She tugged on her nipples and started to finger her pussy madly. She was getting close, her fingers were slick with her fluids and she was working more fingers in.
Then it hit her. She let go of her nipples and reached under herself with her other hand and started to stroke the enema wand in and out. It felt so good running in and out of her and she felt so full. It reminded her of the dirty old priest pounding her ass.
She abandoned her pussy and reached up and squeezed the enema bag, forcing herself full of the hot water.
“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” she screamed as the orgasm hit her. The wand slid out of her ass and the mix of water, shit and cum came rocketing out of ass and she uncontrollably peed. She was shaking in pleasure and the mess was spread everywhere.
She felt guilty and dirty about what she had done and did her best to mop up the mess with some towels which she then threw out. She took a long hot shower and finally felt clean. She set out an $100 bill for the maid with a note apologizing for the bathroom.
Stacy fell asleep naked between her silk sheets, hoping to wake up in the morning and find that the whole thing had been a nightmare.