College Co-Eds of the Corn

COLLEGE COEDS OF THE CORN

Part VIII: She Who Loves Behind the Rows

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

* * *

"Vicky! Vicky, hurry!"

Vicky shook her head, waking back up from the daze she had been in as she and Rachel had crawled down the dry ditch that ran alongside the narrow road through the cornfields. On their hands and knees with Rachel in the lead, Vicky had had an unobstructed view of all of Rachel's best parts, her bare pussy slick around the phallic totem, her tiny little asshole tucked between two squeezable cheeks, those toned thighs working so seductively in front of her....

Scrambling to keep up, Vicky found herself close to that pussy once again, and had to fight off the urge to pull that dildo out from the younger woman's pussy and unleash her nymphomaniacal lust once again. She knew that was all it would take to get the fit woman's body going crazy; Rachel would turn and pounce on her in an instant, pinning her to the ground and bringing Vicky to as many orgasms as she could handle.

At least as many as I can handle before we get caught out here,

Vicky reminded herself, taking a deep breath and crawling along without indulging in the naughty trick she wanted to pull.

"We're almost there," Rachel whispered. "We should be able to see the Chroner house soon, and we'll be able to start figuring out if we can get your husband back or not."

I don't need him. Why would I need him when I can frolic forever in the rows, tasting the pleasures of all these women and letting Her take Her tastes of me?

"What will they do if they catch us?" Vicky asked, practically speaking into Rachel's pussy.

"For me, they will remove the totem and return me to the Reverie in an instant. And if what happened when it came out for just a few minutes today is any indication, I don't believe for a second that I could fight it off by myself if I had to again," Rachel said. She sounded grim, but Vicky was sure there was an undertone of wistfulness there too. "For you? You'd be taken directly to Isaac. With him, there'd be no turning back for you, either...."

She stopped speaking then, and Vicky knew without asking that Rachel was concerned about how good of a thing it might sound to Vicky for her to be turned over to Isaac. They both felt the same twinges of desire at the very thought of the anatomy he had to bring to their fantasized encounters, the same sense of curiosity at how it might feel to be filled by him in ways never before experienced.

Remember Brett,

Vicky reminded herself.

Make sure he's safe, then think about how to get in bed with Isaac.

Just a couple of minutes of crawling later and the two women were forced to hide behind a tractor parked near the entrance to the Chroner homestead. They'd encountered none of the patrols Rachel had been concerned might be walking around the property, and as they came to a stop behind the farm equipment they finally understood why.

All the women who might have been patrolling were gathered in a single large crowd on the far side of the yard. And there, right in front of them, was Brett, propped up on a wooden St. Andrew's Cross as one woman after another stepped forward to put his face-level erection into their mouths for several seconds each before trading off to the next woman in line.

"What the hell are they doing?" Vicky asked, watching another woman break away from her husband's cock and slip into a group of nubile bodies exchanging lascivious licks between them.

Rachel bit her lip and said, "They're preparing him for the offering. They're planning on giving him to She Who Loves Behind the Rows."

"What does that mean?" Vicky asked, watching with mixed feelings as another young, nude woman went up to her husband and choked her way down to the base of his cock. "Is she gonna... eat him or something?"

"I think eventually..." Rachel said. "First she'll consume him in other ways. Unbearably enjoyable ways that, even if they don't kill him, would make him effectively dead."

"What do you mean?" Vicky asked. An exceedingly tall, fit blonde woman bent her head down to take her turn on Brett's dripping erection.

"One person came back from the corn after Rebecca sent him to She Who Loves Behind the Rows," Vicky whispered, turning her eyes to the nearby fields. "One of the hands at another farm nearby. He was nearly a skeleton by the time he came out, but his penis had grown nearly as big as Isaac's, and it never stopped oozing his...

seed

after that. We watched him for days. Most of us were too uncomfortable at the sight of him to even give his huge penis a try, but it didn't matter to him anyway: he just sat there, drooling, eyes hardly blinking, gushes of semen coming out until finally his heart just stopped."

I showed him Heaven and he ran from Me

Vicky squeezed her eyes shut for a second and said, "We have to hurry."

"Yes," Rachel said, looking around the property. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

* * *

Rebecca stood back from the crowd, watching Brett drift closer to the Reverie as another set of lips wrapped around an erection that was just noticeably bigger than it had been when she had started the ceremony. She thought back to Joey Preston, the farmhand who had made it back from the attentions of She Who Loves Behind the Rows, picturing how much more Brett would be changed once he had been given over to the corn.

Scanning her backyard, she saw that about half of the women present had tasted him and whispered those words that were drawing She Who Loves Behind the Rows closer. In fact, Rebecca could see a telling red haze gathering above the field into which Brett was facing, a form in the sky distinct from the colors of the setting Sun on the horizon.

Now's the time.

Rebecca glanced to the two women who stood beside her and gave them each a terse nod. The three women circled behind the crowd, rounding a mix of women waiting eagerly to commune with She Who Loves Behind the Rows via Brett's subtly growing phallus and those who had already communed and were now continuing the ritual amongst themselves, their ongoing entanglements palpably raising the energies surrounding the Altar.

Mallory stood by herself beside the Altar, watching the minute twitches Brett's body made as another woman climbed up the wooden dais to reach her lips to Brett's dripping rod.

"Mallory," Rebecca said, coming to a stop beside the taller woman whose fingers were busy between her legs.

"Rebecca," Mallory replied, eyes locked on the ongoing ritual. "Come to get a closer look at the fruits of our labors? Perhaps to finally enjoy those fruits?"

Rebecca grimaced and said, "I have come for another, far harder labor."

"I am sure," Mallory said. "I am sure it will be much harder for you."

Rebecca sighed and gave a quick gesture, crossing her hands behind her back and waiting for the two women behind her to drag Mallory to the corn where She Who Loves Behind the Rows waited to take her.

With her hands crossed confidently behind her back, it was absurdly easy for the two women to grab Rebecca's wrists and hold her in place while Mallory turned to face the shocked woman clothed in the garb of abstinence. "Your labor is the curse of martyrdom, a sacrifice of privilege befitting the woman who has brought us this far and whose ongoing gift to us is the will to strive for more."

Rebecca looked frantically between the two women holding her, quickly saying, "This is not the will of She Who Loves Behind the Rows! She has demanded--"

Before she could speak any further, however, a gesture from Mallory drove the two women holding Rebecca to bend her over the edge of the Altar, her face coming to rest against the rough wood directly beside Brett's left foot while yet another woman, too zealously focused on Brett's cock to notice the struggle directly before her, stepped up to the Altar and whispered, "I offer the pleasure within my body."

Rebecca struggled against the grip the two women had on her, those struggles doubling as she felt Mallory's hands roughly tugging the hem of Rebecca's dress up her pale thighs, rolling the black fabric over Rebecca's bare ass and revealing the bottom of the crudely carved totem sticking from her pussy. Tight curls of dark hair surrounded the charm, and Mallory, holding tightly onto Rebecca's butt as she struggled to be free, allowed her fingers a moment to graze teasingly through those curls before grabbing the handle of the totem and sliding it free of Rebecca's tight grip.

In an instant Rebecca's struggles stopped, all her protests silenced as Mallory stepped back with the soaked carving in her hand. The two women holding Rebecca glanced toward Mallory, unsure what to do next, but Mallory shook her head and waited.

It was only a few seconds before a wave of fluid fell from Rebecca's pussy, coating her thighs and feet in weeks of pent-up wetness. A shiver ran through her entire body, and suddenly she was struggling again.

The goal, however, had changed entirely.

Rebecca spread her legs and tried for a few frantic seconds to press her pelvis against the wooden platform. When she found she couldn't get the angle she desired, she twisted her lower half, trying to wrap her legs around one of the nude women beside her, desirous juices still flowing from her as she attempted to press her dripping body against anything that might stimulate her. Even her upper half, pressed against the hard platform, she rubbed against the wood to stimulate her nipples. She lifted her head as much as she could, stretching out her tongue to try and lick the side of Brett's foot.

The two women nearly dropped their suddenly-nymphomaniacal former leader, but Mallory snapped, "Take her to the corn!" She composed herself, then said with all the projection she could muster for the crowd, "She Who Loves Behind the Rows has called our Rebecca home! Rebecca has renewed her connection to the Reverie and became a Daughter of God! We must turn her over to our Goddess so that they might form a more perfect union!"

Even as Mallory was saying this, the two women charged with taking Rebecca to the corn were struggling. Rebecca was wide-eyed, moaning at every slight movement, her body shaking with nonstop pleasure at the very air against her skin, but still she sought more, her lips pressing against one woman, her breasts shoved against the other, her legs still contorting until at one point she managed to wrap them around the leg of one of her captors and hump the three of them into a mess of tangled limbs on the ground. Rebecca had gotten off twice just from grinding against that flailing leg before they managed to restrain her again and finally, unceremoniously, toss her into the corn.

Mallory watched fearfully as the red haze that had been gathering above the corn suddenly consolidated. If a cloud could pounce this unsettling fog did so, and after a final orgasmic cry Rebecca's moans were silenced as a windless shuffle in the corn slid away from the Chroner yard.

Mallory, her fingers once more unconsciously tucked between her legs, shuddered with an unexpected orgasm as she considered not just the delightful wickedness of what she had just done but also the extreme possibilities of the pleasures she might have experienced had she allowed herself to be taken into the corn instead of Rebecca.

As the orgasm shook its way out of her little toes, she suddenly became aware of the smell of smoke nearby. Turning in the direction of the smell, her eyes widened in abject terror beyond what she had felt at the sight of that unnatural cloud.

The corn on the other side of the Chroner house was on fire.

* * *

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

Hot. Wet. Pressure.

Cool. Breath. Free.

Hot. Dry. W-What's happening?

Brett's head had tipped backwards, hanging limply between his shoulders with no conscious concerns for the sights of the women praying between his legs for quite some time. All that had mattered was the alternating sensations of hot mouths and cool air lulling him away from a coherent place in the world. His whole body had felt tied to those sensations and all the intricacies of the world beyond his own skin had nearly faded entirely away.

But now the rhythm of those sensations had come to a jarring stop, and other things were beginning to invade his senses.

For example, the smell of smoke rising into his nostrils.

Wrong hot,

Brett thought, opening his eyes and straining to look over his shoulder. Clouds of smoke were rising over him from behind, but he couldn't turn quite enough to see the fire from which it emanated.

What he was more concerned about was the lack of women in front of him. There was no way every woman who had lined up for his cock had had their turn already, yet none stood in front of him now, no one to complete the process that had been started in him hours earlier, no one to complete

him

while he waited nude and hard in the setting Sun.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd stopped caring that he was tied up, but now that no one was paying attention to his erection he was particularly upset that his hands were tied to keep him from finishing this job once and for all.

Then there was a woman in front of him, nude, brunette, cute little lips and nice breasts. She looked a little ragged, but her mouth looked moist and ready to pick up the slack. Brett tensed his pelvic muscles, perking his dick up to make sure she knew he was interested in her sucking it. She looked at it briefly, eyebrows raising slightly, before looking behind him and saying, "This might be a bit more difficult than we had hoped...."

Suddenly Brett's ankle was loose. He blinked heavily, then tensed harder, watching as his engorged dick filled up even more, stretching toward the nude woman in front of him.

His other ankle came loose, and he realized that if the pattern held his hands might soon be free and this whole fraught mess could come to an admittedly messy end.

He felt the ropes around his hands getting tugged at, and Brett lazily looked toward his hand in anticipation of putting it to use.

When he saw his wife's face there, he cursed silently to himself, feeling more of the weight on his thoughts lift away. What was going on was... not right. He'd had plenty of fun with the women of this town, but... but...

But what again?

His hand was free and he immediately reached down to grip his cock, feeling the hot, slick throb of it in his hand, pleased at the unfamiliar heft of it as he squeezed and began sliding his hand along its length. He could feel the weight of his overwhelmed testicles bouncing against his fist as he pumped, feel the skin tensed and ready to flood the world with his offering.

"We've got to get him out of here," Rachel said, looking to Vicky for support. "We--"

She stopped, seeing that Vicky's eyes were focused on Brett's jerking. Vicky bit her lip, her hand hovering on the rope binding his left wrist to the wooden boards of the Altar. Then she reached one hand out, letting it hover a foot over Brett's erection, while Vicky's eyes danced up and down its length.

Rachel stepped closer to the Altar and said, "Vicky! We have to go! They won't be distracted by that fire much longer!"

Vicky looked up from Brett's swollen dick, looked Rachel in the eyes, and said, "I'm sorry!" Vicky never broke that eye contact as she stepped forward on the platform, placing her feet on the raised boards the women had been using to reach up and suck her husband's cock. Raising herself up, she lifted her dress just high enough and leaned forward so her pussy, dripping and needy, was spread directly in front of Brett's swollen dick. Without a word he stopped jerking, lifting its saliva-soaked head up to press against her pussy.

Still staring Rachel in the eyes, Vicky slid back against the firm tip, letting it squeeze its way between her skin and into her tight, pulsing body. Holding her dress up with one hand, Vicky reached back with the other to steady herself against the board still holding her husband in place, gripping it tight as Brett squeezed her hip and started pumping his shaft into her.

"Fuck," Rachel said, watching Vicky push back further onto Brett's stiff body. Rachel leaned over to look past the Altar, making sure that no one was coming back to check on Brett--

--and found Mallory staring back at her from the other side of the wooden platform.

Rachel jumped back, quickly lifting the knife up toward Mallory as the tall, slender woman started circling the Altar. Behind her, the other women who had fled the yard at Brett's feet were running in and out of the barn and house, buckets and bowls and cups and even a few women with handfuls of water running toward where Rachel and Vicky had sent burning gas cans careening into the cornfield on the far side of the property from the Altar.

"We've missed you, Rachel," Mallory said, pausing as she neared one of the front corners of the Altar, gently twisting her own nipple as she looked up at Brett's blessed cock dipping in and out of his wife's pussy. "I'm sure you've missed us, too."

Rachel slid sideways away from Mallory, keeping the knife raised. "Of-of course I've missed you all. My body's missed you nonstop since I left. But this is

wrong,

Mallory. How many people have died for this? How many people have we sent out there who've never come back? Where does it end?"

Mallory reached up and slid one finger down Vicky's tensed, bouncing thigh with a wry grin on her face as she stepped forward to follow Rachel around the Altar. "Women's pleasure has been stifled for nearly as long as women have existed on this planet. If now God has provided a means by which we might claim the pleasure due us, is it our role to deny the Goddess's mission?"

"What kind of Goddess would require so much death for our pleasure?" Rachel asked, keeping one hand on the Altar as she circled backwards around it, imagining every girl she'd seen trip in every horror movie she'd ever watched. "Pleasure shouldn't come at the cost of life like this!"

Mallory paused besides Vicky's other thigh, reaching up and rubbing at the point where Brett and Vicky were sliding together, drawing deeper moans from the spouses. "Rachel, Rachel, you make way too many assumptions. Do you think those men are dead?"

"What?" Rachel asked, pausing at the back corner of the Altar.

Mallory let her newly-lubricated finger fall from between Vicky's legs and back down between her as she followed Rachel around the side of the Altar. "She Who Loves Behind the Rows exists to pleasure all and to be pleased by all. Those men are out there serving Her. They will

always

serve Her, and someday if we continue to serve Her then we will be gifted eternal life with unending pleasure in the fields with Her."

"I want that to be true," Rachel said, a tear in her eye. "I want it to be, but I can't believe that."

"Don't believe." The voice came from behind Rachel, causing her to scream and spin around with the knife, jabbing it into the chest of the person standing behind her.

Rebecca looked down at the knife jutting out of her chest with casual disinterest, tilting her head slightly in recognition that something new and interesting had happened to her.

But the other changes that Rachel saw were far more interesting. During her brief time in the corn, Rebecca's body had been changed, waist narrowing, her bust growing, her lips plumping, her ass curving, her muscles toning, her skin smoothing, her hair filling, every aspect of her augmented by her time out in the field. Her body had been made sexually idealized, fit to be idolized by any with a functioning libido.