EXTRACT FOR
The New Recruit
(Jon Barry)

      John Evans leaned back in his chair and considered the girl kneeling before him on the expensive Persian carpet that brightened the temple's receiving chamber.  No question about it, she was a likely candidate for his organization ??" his "Church" as some amusingly called it.  She might have been a bit old??"she was definitely on the wrong side of twenty-one, whatever she had told the girls who brought her in.  Still, she had exactly the right slutty, desperate look Evans so favored.  There was no question he'd be accepting her; her appearance alone would have ensured her entry.

      Her long hair was blonde with black roots, her features a little too strong to be considered beautiful, but since when was a whore beautiful?  Because she was a whore, quite obviously.  Her clothes were cheap, pure Hollywood hooker: tight cut-offs, and a tighter halter-top with her big nipples damn near tearing holes through the thin material.  Her boobs were high and firm, which made her nips even more noticeable.  Evans liked the look of those nipples; he liked the thought of chewing on them even more, biting at the fat nubs of flesh until the girl shrieked.   Maybe tie her up first.  

      On second thought: Fuck it.  Definitely tie her up.  Make a "ceremony" out of it; throw in some Tibetan Buddhist-inspired hoo-hah about pain as a "test of the soul."  He'd had a lot of success with that, watching his bitches try not merely to ignore the pain he was giving them but actually embrace it, with tears in their eyes.  

      Dammit, the very thought was getting him hard.  He'd just plowed through a few of the temple's younger girls as an afternoon snack.  Now his cock was lead-pipe hard again; normally he waited at least a day before slamming it to a new girl.  He might just have to make an exception in this one's case.

      Her jewelry was junk, the lot of it probably cost less than the makeup liberally slathered over her face.  The girl's shoes were the kind of hi-rise platform jobs preferred by the cheaper strippers.  When she'd removed them at the door it was with visible relief and no wonder; they had left her bare feet crabbed and reddened; they must have hurt like hell.  

      Well, Evans thought, grinning wolfishly, we might just have to revoke the temple's no-shoes rule for her.  Perhaps send Carol or Reiko out to buy her a new pair??"a size or two smaller than the ones she'd worn today, of course.  Keep her on her aching, pain-wracked feet for the first week or so.  Have her run a few laps on the temple's indoor track??"maybe have the girls spread some gravel on it first.  Evans' grin widened.  Spiritual progress couldn't be made without pain, after all.

      "What's your name?" he asked.  He kept his voice contemptuous, uncaring.  His religion wasn't about love, and why should it be?   The finer emotions were wasted on scum-bags like her.

      The girl licked uncertainly at her chapped lips.  "Roxana," she said finally.  Her voice was pleasingly husky.  Reminded him a little of Jewel.  Actually her overall appearance wasn't unlike Jewel's either.  He made a mental note to get the two of them together as soon as possible.  That would be some twisted shit to watch.

      "Roxana," Evans said, in a musing tone.  As though he actually believed that was the bitch's name.  What brings you to us?"

      The girl shrugged, looking intriguingly petulant for a moment.  Evans enjoyed the newer girls who still could show a little attitude; it made the pleasure of breaking them all the sweeter.

      "I didn't have any place to stay.  I was with this guy, but he was an asshole.  Took my money and split.  I heard you guys took girls like me in."

      Yes, she would have heard that.  The more trusted members of his flock moved in the hooker strolls and the seediest strip-clubs, spreading the good news of salvation through Master John.  It was through their efforts that his flock continued to grow.

      "Spread your legs," he demanded.  

      She settled back on her ass and spread her legs, assuming the position with the surety of years' practice.  One hand moved to stroke the crusty patch of denim that masked her cunt.  Nice, Evans thought.  The movement was just casual enough to excite him.  And she looked away from him when she did it.  That was the clincher, that little hint of snottiness.  That got his ass crazy.

      "Look at me," Evans grated.  "Look at me, bitch!"

      Ah, that got to her.  Her eyes snapped to his, just a little scared now.  Just a little uncertain.  Made his cock damn near rip through his pants.  He stood up, shouldered off his suit-jacket and tossed it aside, all but broke his zipper getting his pants open and off.

      "Roxana" looked around the chamber, at the half-naked girls positioned at regular intervals around the room.  These weren't the chirpy, drugged-out bitches who had recruited her; these were the temple's old hands, hardened whores who hated a fresh face, who would be even harder on her than their master.  Evans watched Roxana's eyes narrow, as she realized she wasn't going to get any help from the others of her sex here.  If she tried to run she'd be grabbed and held down.  Maybe kicked to death in the process.

      Evans turned so she could see his dick at its best angle, the size and stiffness of it.  Her eyes were disbelieving, and Evans didn't blame her; among men of his calling, he was unique not so much for his greed or ruthlessness, but for his endowment.  The temple's master ran an appreciative hand over nearly eleven inches of his own hungry flesh.  The girth of it made it seem more like the questing tentacle of a hungry monster than any human appendage.  It twitched under his hand, making it seem more than ever like something animal, and his balls tightened in anticipation of the pussy-feast awaiting him.  He could feel their reserves of semen renewing themselves.

      "Get those pants off and spread 'em.  Now."