As Chapter 4 came to a close, Peter was giving a pool party. Present were Melanie and her daughter in law Dottie, his black friend Harvey, Becky and her husband the Reverend Robert Palmer, and Joe and Susan Palmer, parishioners of the Reverend's church. The party has just begun.
* * * * *
The atmosphere at pool party that evening was more than a little bit strained. Only Peter and Harvey were in a jovial mood. They had enjoyed their football game almost as much as the quart of whiskey they had shared before, during, and after the action on the field. More than football and the liquor though, they were positively beside themselves over a surprise something that they obviously thought was going to be great fun. I hadn't a clue about what they were enjoying so, but I did wonder how they had managed to drive home from Cleveland as drunk and as giddy as they were.
Everyone else, however, was really up tight. I could understand poor Becky's discomfort at visiting her sexual master's home in the company of her husband. Dottie and I were equally uneasy. To start with, we were embarrassed to be marked as a pair of whores by our slutty costumes and the dog collars around our necks. Moreover, we were afraid that whatever was in the wind, eventually we would be forced into something more than just seeming to be ten dollar hookers. Thus, ashamed of our appearance, and uncertain about what might be expected of us, we each tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Joe and Susan Palmer were also decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine why, but the air between the couple and the Reverend Angle was thick with a tension and hostility. The Palmers and he not only didn't speak to each other, a sheet of ice separated them. The Reverend would not look either Palmer in the eye, although Joe Palmer was almost constantly staring daggers at him. All this was strange. The Palmers were very active parishioners in the Angle's church. Susan was the choir leader, Joe a Sunday school teacher, and they both had been close social friends of Robert and Rebecca.
The food left behind by the caterers was excellent, and the liquor flowed freely, but the open anger that surrounded the Palmers eased very little, if any at all. After everyone finished eating, Peter turned on the pool patio TV and VCR. A tape was already in the machine, and it wasn't a Walt Disney movie. There in living color, naked on the big leather couch in the Church rectory, was Samantha, the eighteen year old daughter of the Palmers. Between her legs licking frantically at her young pussy was the balding head of an equally naked The Right Reverend Robert Palmer.
So this was what Peter was hinting at the other evening while he was tormenting Rebecca about her husband and how horny he might be.
The TV tape seemed to go on and on endlessly. We all sat and watched without comment, mesmerized by the graphic sex on the screen. It was one of those 'the emperor has no clothes' situations where no one had the guts to acknowledge what we all saw..., the Reverend's talented tongue stroking up and down her slit of a delighted teenage Samantha Palmer. The sound track wasn't as good as the picture, but it was clear enough to hear the girl frantically beg over and over for her spiritual councilor to "please..., please..., please fuck me now."
Fuck her he did, and even when he ejaculated in that teen cunt, no one around Peter's pool still did or said anything. We all sat there immovable and mute, watching Samantha suck her lover's undersized prick to a renewed erection for a second round in their game of 'cock-in-the-hole.' Samantha was certainly a precocious little slut. Twice fucked, she orgasmed over and over, and she wasn't the least bashful in describing to her older lover all dirty erotic things she wanted done to her.
I couldn't help but think to myself, "God honey, if you think this is good, just wait till some stud with a real prick gets a hold of your pussy." Still, small dick or not, the Reverend had an accomplished and enthusiastic wiggle to his ass, and by the time the tape ended twenty minutes or so later, Samantha was a well fucked young lady.
While the tape was still playing, I checked out those sitting around me looking for their reaction. Becky was just sitting there glassy eyed while her preacher husband was slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands, refusing to even look at the pornographic show he and his young paramour were putting on. Over on the couch, Joe Palmer was so flushed he looked as if he was ready to explode. His wife had a firm hand on his arm as if to restrain him from rushing over to beat the erring preacher to death.
Finally, just as the tape was ending and the Reverend was spilling his seed into Samantha's pussy for the second time, Joe Palmer could stand it no more.
"You son of a bitch!" Joe screamed. "You psalm singing hypocritical son of a bitch. She's still in high school, barely eighteen years old, and you, you bastard, you go and stick your dirty sanctimonious dick in her. I would kill you, but that would be too easy on you. I want you to suffer you child fucking piece of dirt."
"Please, Please...," Robert Angle began as he slipped from his chair and onto his knees facing the irate father. "This will ruin me. It will ruin my family. My Bishop mustn't know, and, please, please don't go to the police. I couldn't face going to jail. I know what I did was wrong, very wrong. I have sinned against Samantha. I have sinned against my wife and children. I have sinned against God. I am human and I have committed a human sin, overcome by my lust in a moment of weakness. It won't ever happen again, I promise. I'll get professional treatment. I'll move away to another church. I'll pay you. I'll do anything you want, but please God, this must not get out. If this is made public, I'll kill myself."
The angry Joe Palmer turned his back on the pleading preacher. His only answer was a bitter, "As I give a damn."
That was when Peter spoke up. "No Reverend, you won't need to kill yourself. I have convinced Mr. Palmer here that it would be in no ones's interest for this bit of dirty linen to be washed in public, least of all that of his wife and daughter. No, Reverend we have agreed on a different kind of punishment, one more biblical..., you know, an eye for an eye, and the redemption of sin through penitence and chastisement..., all that bible stuff. You do believe in the bible don't you Reverend?" Peter asked mockingly.
Reverend Archer said only "Of course." His face was a pasty white and he was beginning to cry.
Peter continued, "That's good, but I'm afraid for a sin so black and heinous, your penitence will require a very severe and painful chastisement, and your punishment should fit the crime. You sinned while naked. Your crime was sexual. You must do your penitence naked, and your chastisement must be sexual."
The preachers expression was blank with lack of understanding as he waited for his fate to be explained. Peter paused for a moment to let his words sink in before he went on.
