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Bound for Glory, Part 5


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From kaiwan.kaiwan.com!rahul.net!a2i!bug.rahul.net!a2i!infoseek.com!uunet!in1.uu.net!news.tele.fi!nes.csc.fi!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Sat Nov 18 23:40:39 1995
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Path: kaiwan.kaiwan.com!rahul.net!a2i!bug.rahul.net!a2i!infoseek.com!uunet!in1.uu.net!news.tele.fi!nws.csc.fi!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: [email protected] (Phil Phantom)
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: [email protected]
Date: Thu, 16 Nov 1995 01:48:48 UTC
Subject: Bound for Glory 5/6
Lines: 594
Xref: kaiwan.kaiwan.com alt.sex.stories:97249

"Bound for Glory" (Part five of six)

"Then deliver. Wait a sec while I sit her up."

John cupped the mouth piece and quietly said, "Don't act like you
did before. Make her fight to get you to accept this. Think
about it, Catherine. If you were really the girl she thinks you
are, how would you really act? Here goes." "Annabelle, here she
is."

"Mother, what's going on?"

"Catherine, John just gave me dreadful news about his full
intentions. You will not be released anytime soon, maybe not for
years, possibly decades if ever. He plans to return you to me
when you can't earn money with your body, but without that
critical release."

"I don't understand, Mother. What are you saying?"

"I am saying that after you deliver the baby, I will have to
return you to him. I have no choice, Catherine. I swore an oath
to God that I would humor this man until he released you."

"Mother, no, you can't do that! You don't know what this is
like--the beating, the rapes, letting men use my body."

"I do know, Catherine, but what other choice is there?"

"I won't do it. I'll run away."

"Catherine bite your tongue. Don't you ever say that in front of
him again. Do you want to stay tied up and gagged for years,
bound to a bed. He can do that, and I would be forced to help
bind you. It would tear my heart out to have to drag you back
and tie you, naked to a rapist's bed, but that's what the threat
of running away might force upon me. That would be as good as
driving a dagger in my heart. Is that what you want? Do you
want to punish me for letting you go with him?"

"No, Mother, of course not. I just can't believe you would do
that to me."

"You can't believe I, your mother, would place your immortal soul
over your mortal body? You can't believe that I, your mother,
would do anything to jeopardize her own immortal soul?"

"Oh, Mother, I'm so frightened. I want to come home."

"You will, many times."

"Yes, but I will be sent back to him as a sex slave to bear more
bastards for him."

"Yes, Catherine, accept it. I told you before, you are a sex
slave. It doesn't matter what you want, at least, not to your
master. As long as you have a master, I have one, too. Do you
think I am enjoying this? Is that what you think, that I like
saying filthy words, that I like hearing about the sex he is
having with my only child, my baby girl? Am I some kind of
monster in your eyes, just because I will do anything at all to
save your soul?"

"No, Mother, I know you're motives are righteous and pure. I
know you are only doing what you think is best. I know that all
you ever cared about was my fucking soul."

"Catherine, how dare you talk to me like that?"

"Like what, Mother, like a whore--a sex slave. That's how they
talk, I'm sure. That's what I am. You said so yourself."

"And I meant every word. And I will not apologize for thinking
only of your immortal soul. I take that as the highest
compliment a daughter can give to her mother. It is all I care
about, and that is as it should be. Your body is temporal; you
soul is immortal. Remember what I taught you."

"I'm sorry, Mother. You are right. I'm just finding this so
hard to accept. Things are so different now. Everything is up-
side-down. Nothing makes any sense."

"I know, Catherine, but it all makes perfect sense to me. As
you're spiritual guide, you must trust me, do as I say, and
never, ever question anything I tell you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mother."

"As for your language, it is befitting a whore and sex slave, so
I won't ever correct that again. That was a knee jerk reaction.
I will adjust. In fact, you should use only those vile and
filthy terms, even when talking to me. A whore is as a whore
does and says. Become a whore in body, mind, and spirit, and
things will go easier. Time will pass faster. I will treat you
like a whore for that reason--to help you adjust. You
understand, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Now, whore, I want you to suck the reverend's cock while we
talk. Do that thing with your throat where you lick his balls
while you're sucking. Do it like the filthy whore you've
become."

Catherine slipped into her childish, submissive tone and said,
"All, right, Mommy. I'll deep suck the preacher's cock and suck
the sperm from his balls while I lick them. Was that whorish
enough?"

"That was good."

"Oh, and you won't have to do the tying after I deliver the
bastard and you return me. I will return willingly to serve out
my time, every time. I don't want to make things any harder on
you than they already are. I feel guilty enough about that as it
is. If anything, I want to make amends for the trouble I've
caused you."

"Good, much better. You can do that by being the best whore and
sex slave any pervert ever had. That will take pressure off me
to make you that way. Now, get that cock in your mouth and start
sucking. Put the reverend back on."

John didn't need to pretend, because Catherine was so turned on,
she dove on his cock. "Oh, God damn, Annabelle. The bitch has
my whole cock in her mouth, down her throat, and she's curling my
toes from the fucking suction. Oh, yes, baby! Suck that cock!"

"You make me wish I had a cock, and a cock sucker. Right now, I
am happy I have a big clit and ten fingers. Oh, John, this is so
much fun. Were you listening?"

"Hell yes. You were outstanding. You talk religious shit the
way Catherine sucks a child molester's cock."

"My, that is a compliment. I told you I can deal with Catherine.
Is she licking your big hairy balls?"

"Like a mother cat licks pussy."

"Wonderful. I've got you set, then. I need to hang up so that I
can properly take care of my needs. I can't fuck myself and talk
at the same time."

"Until the sabbath, then."

"Until the sabbath. It will be fun. Good bye, lover."

John hung up the mouth piece, set the phone aside, then came a
copious load down Catherine's throat. She gulped, then sucked,
then nursed lovingly on his cock. He lifted Catherine off his
deflating member and set her on he feet. "Surprised?"

"Totally. What a hypocritical slut she is. She gave me to you
to torture and kill. Now, she's made me your sex slave for life
for Christ's sake--literally for Christ's sake. She's sick, but
I think she actually believes all of this shit."

"She's not sick, but her mind has been poisoned by that born-
again Christian dogma. I think she has to cling to her belief
that she is saving you while throwing you to the dogs. She wants
to have her fun and be saved at the same time. Who can blame
her? With my help, she discovered a way."

"Do you think she'll even feel any guilt for what she's doing, or
thinks she's doing?"

"Who cares. You're having fun with this. I'm getting a kick out
of it. Your old lady is getting a kick, having fun, and having a
religious experience all in one. She won't be the first to pull
the plug. How did you like her confession? Did I read her right
or didn't I?"

"You cheated. You suckered me into a stacked wager."

"I know. We'll scrap the wager, but I'd like to set up another.
Don't worry, there won't be any sale to white slavers. I had no
intention of following through. You're my wife, remember, and
you're going to be the mother of my child."

"Oh John. I love you. I wish it were true, that I was your
wife."

"Maybe one day, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not the
marrying type, and some day, I'll tire of you. I won't tire
soon, but we're not playing the Honeycuts anymore. Nobody bought
it, and that fact embarrassed the hell out of me. That's why I
kept a low profile. I did that for you, Catherine. I hope you
enjoyed it."

"Oh, I did. Playing your wife was a dream come true. You're
right, though, nobody bought it."

"Don't feel bad, kid. It's just your age. They'd buy it in
three or four years. If I were to marry anyone, though, it would
be Annabelle, your mother. Those sexy pious bitches drive me
bananas. Your mother is the sexiest I've ever come across."

"So you really do have a thing for her. I think that's great. I
think she's sexy, too. She's also very pretty, even without
makeup. Can you imagine what she'd look like all made up,
wearing sexy clothes? Too bad she's stuck with my old man. I'm
sure his little dick doesn't do a thing for her. After I saw
what a real cock is supposed to look like, I couldn't help
feeling sorry for her. So, what's the bet?"

"You are going to earn your own money whether you like it or not.
The money you earn fucking gets split fifty fifty. I'm sure
you'll lose it all in wagers, but I need to pay you in order to
win it. Here's the bet. One-thousand of mine against one-
thousand of your future earnings that your mother will divorce
your father and meet us for a threesome. Furthermore, she will
become a whore with you."

"You're on, buster. If you can make that happen, I'll gladly
earn a thousand for you."

"Let's put a time limit on it, say one month from today, she has
to be naked in bed with us."

"She can't get a divorce that soon."

"No, but she can get caught fucking the kid and have a divorce
pending."

"If she gets caught by father, a divorce will be pending, that's
for sure. Let's go double or nothing that she will agree to
marry you. I say she won't; you say she will."

"It's done. Do you know the kid she has in mind for a lover?"

"No, I can't imagine; but whoever he is, she sure wants him
badly."

* * *

John and Catherine left Pittsburg the following morning, headed
for New Orleans. Along the way, they perfected their game.
Catherine played the role of a runaway. John played the part of
a Pittsburg preacher returning Catherine to her folks in a small
parish outside New Orleans.

Their game was a simple one with a flexible course. Catherine
played the part of the Catherine in her fantasy story. She was
brazen, outrageous, shocking, and showed her tits and pussy at
every opportunity. Whenever they were alone with an intimate
group, Catherine told her story. With John's help, she refined
her tale to make it more believable and more exciting. He had
her drop the sado-masochistic scenes and concentrate on the
incest factor. He had her fucking the men and going down on the
women. He also had her bring the dog in sooner, making forced
sex with the dog a regular feature.

Catherine's lewd behavior, filthy language, and her bawdy stories
never failed to bring about an orgy-like atmosphere in train
compartments. Regardless of the mix of people, and the mix
changed often as they traveled the whistle stop lines, the people
responded. Several of the groups broke out in full-fledged naked
orgies, and those that didn't participate, watched Catherine take
on all comers, male and female, but always, John. Between the
two of them, they left a trail of spent dicks and wet pussies
from Pittsburg to New Orleans.

Catherine also turned her first trick on the train. John charged
two bits for the first, because he wanted to take her from being
a two bit whore to whore stardom. Five bucks became her usual
and customary charge. In 1936, in New Orleans, five dollars for
pussy was stardom.

After arriving in New Orleans, Catherine went to work selling
pussy. The cheap hotel in New Orleans brought welcome relief.
John presented Catherine as his daughter--Catherine Masterson.
Those who knew John as Big John Masterson just smiled, but
everyone else bought it, and they believed Catherine Masterson
was a nasty little girl that put her father through hell to the
delight of the staff and guests. The two planned a long stay, so
they could not get too carried away with the game. The hotel was
a home away from home for John. John told her, "A smart bird
never shits in his nest."

Catherine did not get to show her pussy very often. She had no
intention of shitting in the hotel, but she got the idea. She
showed her pussy in the room to a select clientele. John was not
into street-corner hustling or leaving Catherine alone with a
client until he had been checked out. If marks were to put on
Catherine's body, he'd put them there. No one wanted to piss off
Big John Masterson.

Catherine earned one-hundred dollars and twenty-five cents in
thirty-eight hours, ending at nine P.M. the following Sunday.
They had the small bills spread out in two piles on the bed.
John gathered both, but entered Catherine's fifty dollars and
twenty-five cents in his ledger. He told her a whore's first
trick is customarily all hers.

Catherine was in a terrific mood when John placed the call to her
mother, so John slapped her hard in the face, sending her
sprawling onto the floor. Catherine sat up, tears flowing.
"What did I do?"

"Just setting the mood, Catherine. You've just been through
hell--your first week as a whore. That smile on your voice had
to go."

Catherine smiled back through a frown. Her face hurt. They sat
side by side on the bed. Catherine played with John's cock and
her own cunt, eager to hear her mother's lusty voice again.
Annabelle answered on the first ring, "Hello, John!"

"At your service. Have you had a change of heart?"

"If I did, I'd control it. Is Catherine with you?"

"Yes, she's right here, sucking my cock."

"Is she naked?"

"She's always naked, Annabelle. When we go out, she wears only
an overcoat. I never know when an opportunity to pick up a quick
buck might happen, but she's always ready."

"Has she made you any money, yet?"

"A little over two hundred."

"My goodness. What do you charge for her various services?"

"Two bucks for a straight fuck, three for an ass fuck. Blow jobs
are two. Two fifty if they want her to swallow cum. The rough
stuff is extra."

"Rough stuff?"

"Yeah, you know, slapping her around, pulling her cunt hairs out,
beating her, mild torture, that sort of stuff. I allow anything
that won't leave a lasting mark or an internal injury. I don't
want anyone fucking up my gold mine."

"She earned you two hundred the hard way. You're a cruel master,
John, but then I knew you would be. The poor thing must be
miserable. I'll bet she wants her Mommy. Does she ever cry out
for me?"

"Quite a bit. Between you and Jesus, it's a toss up."

"I am dying to speak with her. Don't worry, I won't console her.
I'm sure you'll want to listen in. I'll make this good for you."

Catherine was bouncing up and down, then whispered , "Ask her
about the boy. Ask her if she followed your orders?"

"Annabelle, first, did you fuck the kid?"

"Yes, John. Several times each day. Six times today, alone. I
am following your orders to the letter. I am also following the
spirit of your order, John. I came to the door stark naked when
he delivered the milk the following morning. He was so startled.
I stood in the open doorway with my arms out and my legs apart
and said, 'Would you like to fuck me?' Did I do good, John? Is
that how you want me to be, like a horny slut?"

"You did great, Annabelle."

"I am insatiable and so his he. Today was the first church
service I've missed in six years. We fucked in my marital bed
while the service was going on. He's seventeen and he loves to
lick and suck my pussy. I adore having my pussy licked. He
fucks my ass. He fucks my pussy, and he loves to fuck me in the
mouth. He also jacks off in my mouth while I swallow all of his
virile young sperm."

"It sounds like you're having the time of your life."

"Oh, I am, John, and I owe it all to you. I am living a dream,
and I am still going to heaven. I sucked my first cock, but I
couldn't get it to go down my throat. That's one of the things I
need to talk to Catherine about. I need to take cock sucking
lessons from my daughter. Isn't that marvelous?"

"Here, talk to her."

"Mommy?"

"Catherine, how are you doing?"

"Mommy, I'm dying. They are killing me. I can't go on. I want
to die. They hurt me so badly, Mommy."

"I know, sweetheart. They enjoy hurting you, don't they?"

"Yes, they love making me scream and cry."

"And I'm sure you scream and cry a great deal. You never were
very brave about pain. I wish there were some way I could ease
your suffering, but there isn't. I can't kiss it and make it go
away, especially not if they're hurting you where I think they
are. Mommy's can't kiss their little girl's cunnies, now can
they? That is where they like to hurt you the most, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mommy. They torture my pussy. My pussy is so sore and
swollen, all cut up and bloody. They pinch my clit in pliers and
twist till I scream my guts out."

"That must hurt dreadfully. What else do they do to your poor
little pussy?"

Catherine cupped the mouthpiece and said to John, "My god, she's
getting off on my torture."

John said, "Then give her something to get off on."

"Catherine. Speak to me."

"I'm sorry, Mother. He pulled on my clit and the pain made me
suck in my breath."

"I'll bet your poor little clitty is sore, isn't it, baby?"

"Yes. They stick needles deep into it. Sometimes, my clit looks
like a pin cushion."

"I'll bet they like to fuck you with those needles in your clit.
Do they, Catherine? Do they fuck you with those needles in your
clit?""

"Yes, Mommy, and my pussy lips too. The pain makes me pass out."

"I'm not surprised, but I'll bet you don't pass out right away.
You feel those needles getting jammed deeper into your cunt,
don't you?"

"Yes, and it is awful pain, Mommy."

"Do they ever burn your pussy or your tits?"

"Sometimes, but they don't want blisters or ugly scars. Still,
they can burn my pussy in many ways that won't make a blister.
They heat up knives and spoons in hot water. They melt wax on my
pussy. They put burning cigars very close until the surface
begins to sear."

"What about your tits, Catherine? What do they do to your tits?"

"Terrible things."

"What exactly?"

"They pull my nipples with pliers, stick long needles through my
tittie flesh; they whip them, smash them in big clamps, and they
put their cigars out on them."

"What do your tits look like now, Catherine?"

"They look awful, all cut up and swollen with big blisters from
the cigars. My nipples look like dried mince meat. It's awful
what they do to me, and the reverend is the worst."

"What does he like to do, Catherine?"

"He likes to put strong clamps with teeth on my clit and pussy
lips, then lead me around on a string tied to the one on my clit.
I'm wearing one right now, and...Ahhhhhhh! Oh, Jesus! Please,
don't yank. Please!"

Annabelle said, "He pulled the string, didn't he?"

Catherine was crying from another slap, and said, "Yes! I want
to die, Mommy. Tell Jesus to take me."

"Catherine, you calm down! Stop acting like a baby. Jesus will
take you when he's good and ready. Do not, I repeat, do not ever
think about taking your own life. Suicide is a straight ticket
to Hell. If you think you are suffering now, take your life.
You'll see you had it easy. Catherine, be brave. Endure. You
must. Suffering is the path to salvation, and you should welcome
the pain. Don't expect any sympathy from me. If you ask me, the
reverend is being too easy on you. A whore's life should be one
of suffering and torture."

"Mother, how can you say that after what I've told you?"

"I can say that because that's how I feel. Whores should suffer
on Earth and burn in Hell. The fact that you are my daughter
makes no difference. Right now, you are a whore. I want you to
suffer, and if you should die a whore, I hope you burn in Hell.
You must earn your freedom in order to earn forgiveness and
salvation. If you fail, it's your own fault. I am doing all I
can to win your ultimate freedom and salvation; but in the
meantime, while you are a whore, you will get no sympathy from
me. Now that you know where I stand on the subject, maybe you'll
stop your pathetic whimpering and trying to play on my
sympathies. Put the reverend on."

"John here."

"Oh, John, that was exciting, but I don't want Catherine to hear
what I have to say next. Maybe you should put her in another
room so we can talk openly."

"All right. Hang on." John cupped the mouth piece and told
Catherine, "Your mother is one sick bitch."

"No shit. How could my mother get off on my torture? She loves
me. I know she does. Dig, John. Find out what she's getting
off on and why?"

"I am just as curious as you are. Just sit still and be very
quiet. Okay, here we go." John spoke into the phone.
"Annabelle, I'm back. I've got her clamp string tied to the
bathroom door knob. She's in the bathroom, up on her tip toes in
deep agony."

"You're so cruel. You might rip her cunt out. What a picture?
I just pictured Catherine lying on the floor in a huge pool of
blood with her pussy hanging on the door knob, a little bag of
bloody guts with skin and a tuft of hair at the top."

"Are those the kind of scenes you imagined after handing her over
to me?"

"Yes, and those scenes still turn me on. I love hearing her tell
me how you tortured her cunt and tits, how she suffered, how she
wants to die rather than suffer more. When you jerked her
string, that turned me on as well. Hearing her scream, beg, and
cry turns me on. I'd like to share the fantasy I had driving
home from the train station. I have some ideas for tortures that
you might like to try on her. I like tit and cunt torture, the
really bloody stuff, but I know you can't do too much of that and
still turn a profit. I thought of some great ones, some that
will still leave her in working order. We have to mine that
gold, don't we."

"I can't wait to hear them, Annabelle, but first, I'm curious, I
thought you loved Catherine. What's going on?"

"I do love her. I love her and I miss her terribly. This is all
very strange and new to me. Before meeting you, I never
entertained such thoughts. It's the devil at work on my mind,
but I am protected thanks to you. This is great being able to
indulge these thoughts without guilt and without sin. I suffered
greatly before we had our talk. I thought it was me thinking
those awful things and taking pleasure in them. When you told me
you were a disciple of Satan, that explained everything."

"The best of both worlds, huh?"

"Yes, the very best of both. I have even better fantasies now.
My favorite is where you keep Catherine for years, then when
she's all worn out and useless, when it is time to release her as
to our agreement, you slowly kill her while you have me on the
phone, telling me every gory detail. You skin her alive and cut
parts off her body, minor parts, like her clit, nipples, fingers,
toes, eye lids, ears, lips, nose, and all the while, she's
screaming, 'Mommy, he's killing me.' I can cum just thinking
about it."

"And what would be your response if I did actually do that?"

"I'd be horrified, of course; but I am prepared for that reality.
In the fantasy, I work with you, prying out details, suggesting
what to cut off next. Basically, you are just doing what I ask
you to do. In reality, I don't know if I could actually do that.
We'll have to wait and see, won't we? Don't tell me you will
kill her, because then you'll strip me of my incentive to humor
you to win her release. Surprise me."

"I don't understand why you'd want her dead. You can't save her
soul if she dies in my custody."

"No, but I tried. I did the best I could, right up to her last
breath."

"What do you think you'd say to me after I told you she stopped
breathing."

"What could I say? Talking further with you would be a sin. I'd
hang up."

"The shows over; the devil wins another soul. Is that it?"

"That's life. It happens all the time. Heaven isn't crowded.
Only the most righteous ever make it. Catherine never had that
spark, that kinship with the holy spirit as I do. I knew the
devil would get her sooner or later. I've been braced for that
all along. I figure if she's going to go to Hell, she may as
well start her suffering now. A few years added to eternity is
nothing. Those of us who are saved enjoy the suffering of the
damned. It is one of the few earthly pleasures we have."

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