The Forbidden Staircase

Chapter Eight: An Indecent Proposal

The next morning, sunlight shining in her face, Mary dragged herself awake next to Grandma Petra. Mary realized that she had been restless with relentless dreams of being used over and over by groups of men. Her pussy, ass, jaw, and muscles were sore, and it felt like she had gotten no sleep at all. The groggy young detective realized that she was having a first-hand experience of what the other women had been reporting. The dreams, for it seemed quite clear they were dreams, were nevertheless very vivid. Furthermore, it seemed as though she'd suffered the real-life aftereffects of the events she dreamed. Had it been real, or merely a dream?

Grandma Petra was unconscious but breathing deeply and normally. Mary pulled back the bed sheets and saw that grandma's genitals were more irritated than last night when she had seen her masturbating herself, more evidence. The bleary sleuth decided to let grandma sleep and seek out the rest of the women to ascertain their fate. She covered up grandma thoroughly, climbed out of bed, and put on her bathrobe. After a cup of hot coffee from the kitchen, she thought, she would be right as rain.

She found Selene still on the rug where she had been fucking Bucky last night. She was asleep, groggy, and covered with a warm comforter fetched from somewhere. After taking a peek at her genitals, which like grandma's and her own, seemed to show more wear and tear than one would expect, she let her sleep as well.

Mary walked in bare feet down to Imogene's room. Imogene was there asleep by herself, hugging a pillow. "Immy, wake up," she prompted.

"What? Bucky? Where is Bucky?"

"Bucky?" Mary asked, "Was he here with you? Did you?"

"Yes!" Imogene smiled in a way that lit up the room.

"I'm sure he's just downstairs or something. I'll find him," Mary assured her. "Did you have the dreams again last night?"

"Yes... they were awful. I dreamed Bucky was taken away. Find him Mary!"

Mary rushed downstairs to look for Bucky in the kitchen. The kitchen was empty. As soon as she had made herself a much-needed cup of coffee, the doorbell rang. She rushed to the front door and opened it, expecting it was Bucky returned from some errand. It was none other than Ofbert Humpf, the ugly little man who had raped Margaret. "What do you want?" she asked suspiciously, pulling her fluffy bathrobe tight around her and tying the belt tight.

"I have an offer to buy this property," replied Humpf, holding up a sheaf of papers.

"I'm quite sure the owner does not want to sell."

"Well, she should, she must," argued Humpf, "The place is haunted, you know. She'll never get more money than I'm offering right now."

Mary walked out onto the front porch to confront Humpf and shut the door behind her. She saw the sheriff's deputy over near his cruiser. "Oh deputy," she called to him, "Please see this man off the premises and make sure he doesn't return." The deputy started to walk over.

"I was just leaving," Humpf growled. "Mark my words, I'll be back." He climbed into his car and drove off.

Mary shook the deputy's hand, and said, "I'm Mary Jones. And you are?"

"Deputy Thomas Katz, at your service, ma'am." The deputy was tall and muscular with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He had the kind of face that could look tough or friendly, and right now, it looked very friendly. "Shall we climb into my vehicle and make sure your suspect has actually left the area?"

"Certainly! Thank you, deputy," replied Mary. "Give me just one minute." She rushed into the house and shut the door. Luckily, all her clothes were still in her bags in the front hall. She threw on a white bra and panties, a green blouse with a high neck and long sleeves, a matching green skirt, and some sensible black flats. While she was dressing, she fantasized about dreamy Deputy Katz undoing the very same buttons and buckles.

When she re-emerged onto the front porch, Katz had pulled up his cruiser. Mary jumped into the passenger side and they were off. Humpf was not in the drive or parked out front. They decided to drive around the perimeter of the property. As they did, the eagle-eyed young sleuth spotted Humpf's car parked and empty outside a house down the hill about a mile away. They pulled to the side of the road to observe. "What is that place?" she asked.

"It's the Streamview Rectory," answered Katz. "The church sold it years ago, but they still call it that." Then the dreamy deputy surprisingly changed the subject. "You know, your voice sounds familiar. Have you ever been to the Ram's Horn Pub by any chance?"

"Deputy Katz," Mary stalled, blushing a little, because she immediately realized that this extremely handsome man almost certainly had deposited a load or two with either herself or Imogene or both of them through the glory holes they had found at the end of the secret tunnel. She stammered, "I'm too young to drink alcohol, but I confess I've visited there anyway. Are you scandalized?"

Now Katz was blushing, because he had fully made the connection. "Miss Jones, I'm curious about you," he grinned. Gosh, he was handsome, thought Mary. The lanky hunk continued, "I don't want to be a bother, but if you have anything you'd like to confess, I can keep a secret."

Mary smiled back. "I don't have a confession, but I have something to confide in the original sense," she purred. She leaned over his lap and started to unzip him. He didn't stop her. She pulled out his circumcised dick, which was rapidly swelling to hardness at this unexpected attention and began sucking it.

Katz's dick did not look particularly familiar, but the glory hole had been a blur of dicks, and it had been dark as well. There was also the distinct chance she had merely backed herself into this one rather than given it an oral examination. Also, her moaning straining guardian could've had the pleasure of meeting Imogene rather than herself. He struck Mary as the kind of man that would wait in both lines, so that could only mean one thing. "I hope we didn't make you keep your date waiting," she ventured.

"My, you are a great detective," enthused Katz. As Mary continued to suck him, he pulled her blouse out of the hem of her skirt and pushed up her bra to feel her breasts and tweak her nipples. Then he unbuttoned her skirt a little and worked his hands into her panties, finding her wet. He began stroking Mary's button with a now wet finger.

As Mary continued to apply her truly extraordinary cocksucking skills, she knew she was making good progress from Katz's physical reaction. His finger rubbing her pussy started getting erratic. Then the gasping deputy's entire body tensed. "Oh God!" he cried as he strained and shot a couple of nice thick wads into Mary's hungry mouth. As he calmed, he confessed, "My girlfriend dumped me that night, actually. In retrospect, I should have just waited longer in line for you."

"That's the wrong lesson to learn," Mary advised him sternly. "It might seem like that, because this little guy thinks for you a lot, especially at a time like this," she said, patting his softening dick with her hanky. "But a glory hole is not going to hold you when you need to cry."

Katz laughed, "I never need to cry."

"Of course. I keep forgetting it's 1930 and tears are obsolete." Mary put her tits into her bra and tucked her blouse in. "Well, back to work. I'll get out here. You go to the house and guard the perimeter." She got out of the patrol cruiser. She knew she shouldn't be miffed at Katz for being a man of ordinary insight, but she was.

"Very well," said Deputy Katz out the window with a confused smile, then turned his cruiser around, and drove off.

Mary walked down to Humpf's car. It was unlocked. She walked up to the door of the Streamview Rectory. It was locked. She returned to Humpf's car, climbed into the back seat, and hid on the floor. She didn't have to wait long before the wicked little bigot himself climbed into the driver's seat. She popped up and whispered, "Howdy stranger!" Humpf jumped.

"What are you doing here?" Humpf asked.

"I had to get you away from the house so I could fuck you again somehow, didn't I? Last time you finished so quickly. I want more," Mary whimpered convincingly. She slithered over the front seat and began wrestling with Humpf. As he was working on pulling off her panties, the crafty teen was feeling him all over sexily, searching for the document. She found it in his jacket pocket and saw to her surprise that since their encounter at the front door, grandma had signed it. By this time in the wrestling, the disgusting little man was unsuccessfully trying to spear his now exposed and hard weenie into Mary's bared and wet quim, still ready from earlier. "Can I persuade you to leave Triple Forests alone?" she begged.

"I'm sorry," said Humpf, concentrating on spearing Mary's elusive quim, "Grandma has already signed the bill of sale."

"You mean this bill of sale?" asked Mary, tearing it up.

Humpf whirled around, but was too late to stop her. As he scrabbled for the flying scraps, Mary retrieved her panties and climbed out of the car. "It was a pleasure seeing you again," she smiled to the quivering frustrated gnome. "Maybe we can work something out next time." She waved goodbye brightly to Humpf and started walking up the street to Triple Forests.

When she returned to the house, Selene and Imogene were carefully dragging a large trunk out of a downstairs closet. "What's going on?" asked Mary.

"Mary, thank goodness you're here!" said Imogene, "We nearly forgot why I was originally visiting! We're hosting a grand costume party tonight, and everybody who is anybody will be attending. Guests will begin showing up at dusk! There's so much to do! We'll have no recourse but to send them all away!"

"No we won't!" said Mary confidently. She picked up the telephone and started calling her many friends in town. First she called George Rush and his darling new bride Bonnie. Mary had been George's girlfriend at one time, and she was still very close to them both. Then she called her dozen or so best friends from the white slavery girl's squad she had brought to town. They were all happy to show up and help with last minute preparations, participate, and be the wait staff at the fancy party. It was too bad that Margaret was out of town, because she was a great cook, but she called Eustace Rush, George's mother and her friend Mildred Rush, George's sister, to help with the cooking. Soon the army of volunteers began arriving, and frantic preparations for the evening shifted into high gear.

(To be continued)