The Ballad of Emily Jeffers

NOTE: This is the third part of The Ballad of Emily Jeffers, a seemingly naive and clueless woman for whom sex comes naturally, and sexual manipulation by others is her entire life. It's a story, and as such all characters are fictitious. Even so, those fictitious characters are all 18 years old and older.

*

Ms. Jeffers was still sleeping when I woke up, me bein' all confused with where I was. And spying a clock on the dresser next to a Bible, I realized I was gonna be late for work if I didn't hustle. But still I moved slow and quiet so as not to wake her. I looked down at her half covered form -- her naked and soft and round and generous body. I'd been inside her and a lot of my cum still was, 'cept what leaked out of her cunt and crusted up on her legs and on the sheets.  I wanted to call in and say I was sick, but knew Old Mister Harper was lookin' for a report and said I should be in his office at 10 a.m. So I hustled. Quietly.

I'd had time for a quick shower, and almost wished I didn't have to wash her smell off me. She was intoxicating in so many ways. Her look, her feel, her smell. Or was I imagining all that? Was she special? Would a man give her up just for some booze money? Would a Reverend really have no qualms about selling use of her body for 'The Lord's Work?' Okay, I understand the banker, Old Mister Harper selling her. He had no conscience. And I knew there was a doctor involved who eased his conscience by pretending he was looking after her health. But I saw his name on the fuck list for Thursday.

I had called ahead to Owens for breakfast and coffee to go, and was able to eat my fried egg on toast sandwiches as I looked over some loan applications and a request from a local charity for more time on their meetin' house mortgage. It had reached the point where the bank could foreclose, and since it was a progressive women's group, I knew we would. Harper had no use for women 'cept the three holes in their bodies.

Then I saw a notation on a notebook page paperclipped to the letter from the chair women asking for more time. It was Harper's writin' and it said somethin' made me believe he was gonna get the chairwoman to do some favors so as the foreclosure wouldn't go ahead. "Doc says Mrs. Eaton well used and willing," Harper had written. "Will double estrogen and progesterone treatments. Says wait one week and make an appointment." And there was her phone number. I was being instructed to call her and lure her into Harper's clutches. So I made the call and set it up for the next day just before closing time as per instructions.

Harper buzzed down a few minutes to 10 a.m. and asked me to drop by his office.

"Bring a notebook, so as you can jot down some plans we'll be makin' for the Jeffers whore," he said. "Church picnic's comin' up and I got some ideas you can help me with."

"Okay Sir," I said. "Be up in a moment."

Old Mister Harper was in his usual spot behind the big wooden desk. I hovered a few feet inside the door, waitin'. His business-suited demeanor and ledger, bottom-line propensity seemed at odds with his mention of a church picnic. I was curious.

I cleared my throat, unsure if he knew I was there.

"Lawton!" he boomed. "Come in, come in! Sit!"

He was in a jovial mood and smiled broadly as he gestured to a big, deep leather armchair. I pictured loan defaulters sitting down in it and never getting out again. But I sat. I felt as the rising star in the rich man's bank.

"Thank you Sir," I said. "You wanted to see me, ah, about a church picnic?"

"Yes indeed, Lawton," he beamed. "We're supporting it this year and I've already talked with Pastor Brown. We've come up with an idea that should bring in a lot of money. The church needs some major repairs to the foundation, and some of the youth group are hoping to go to church camp out of state. It's actually a week-long picnic and carnival fundraiser. "

"How can I help, sir?" I asked. I was flattered that he was calling on me to help with such a community-mined initiative.

"Well, Ms. Jeffers seems to have a certain appeal in the Black community, and Pastor Brown was thinkin' if she was put on offer, in some fun and imaginative way at the fair grounds, it could draw a big crowd from as far away as Haler City, and her services could bring in 20 or 30 dollars a pop easily. Maybe more," the old moneymaker smiled enthusiastically.

I was stunned, but Harper must have wrongly recognized my failure to reply immediately as me being in such awe of his idea as to be speechless.

"I can see you're impressed, Lawton," he said, "and I knew you were the right man for the job. You're coming up with ideas already, aren't you son?"

Still unable to speak, I just nodded.

"Okay, here's what the good minister came up with," he said. "A tent, one of those ones with no floor and the sides can roll up. But 'cause there'll be kids and youngun's around, it needs a little vestibule before guys actually enter. They pay out front for whatever it is they want to use -- mouth, pussy, ass. They go into the vestibule and wait. They have five minutes, no more. So we'll have somebody doing security in case guys stay too long. And if a guy pays for a blowjob, he can't have pussy. But it's fine if they pull out of her pussy or ass and finish in her mouth. Less to clean up."

Then it was on to other things as if he hadn't just consigned a woman's mouth as a trash can.

"Pastor Brown has the tents and tables and everything," Harper assured. "They're gonna use a church altar and put some cushions on it instead of a bed. We need some volunteers to help out, though. It'll be a long day for the volunteers. We need to be sensitive to their needs, so we need two shifts."

Again I was stunned. It would be a long day for Ms. Jeffers, I expected. All that those poor volunteers would be doing would be watchin' a vulnerable woman get repeatedly raped, and most would probably do her themselves any chance they got. I didn't tend to sympathy towards them.

But I managed to stutter out a few words.

"Sir, I mean, can we do this? I mean is this even legal?"

"Son, Police Chief Wallace is on the carnival committee and he's already given it the okay," Harper said with a bit too much glee in his voice. "Wallace said he'll have a few of his men lookin' in on things from time to time. Probably take a little pussy too, if I know them boys. So if we advertise this right, we can have that whore really raking it in. Church gets half and I'll have to take in some to cover expenses and such. Newspaper advertising."

I had the notebook out and was jotting things down as he talked. In my mind I saw that tiny bundle of God's perfection naked in her bed, used by so many cocks and filled with so much cum, yet still looking like an innocent lamb. And despite everything we were doing to her, I believed she was still pure and good. We were the ones was sinnin' against her.

I was trying to catch up with what Harper was sayin' which I think was her being allowed a 15 minute break every two hours to clean up and make herself look presentable.

"Some of the church women will be comin' 'round to clean up her pussy and straighten up her hair and stuff," Harper explained as if washing a whore's cunt in the middle of a church picnic was an everyday occurrence. "So, now, we need to come up with signs, pricing, and some advertising slogans for the Haler City Rambler to run the two weeks runnin' up to the carnival."

Apparently Nate Gammon just outside town was a good sign maker. The old fashioned kind on real wood with real paint.

"Fred Wilson over at the funeral home can get some good photos of Ms. Jeffers dolled up in some whore clothes and they can go with the advertising," Harper kept on. "I want a decent sized block add on Page 3 if you can convince them. Maybe suggest a free sample or two."

Pricing was established at $10 a blowjob, and $20 each for her pussy and ass.

"So, Lawton, we gotta have her at peak performance in just three weeks," he said. "I heard a few reports from a couple of the guys done her last night. They were mighty impressed and I hear from Old Mister Perchenski they were doin' her from both ends at once and she was lovin' it. Couldn't get enough. Might consider sellin' her for more than one dick at a time. Some guys get off on what they call a gangbang."

I just nodded. I wasn't sure she enjoyed it as much as Mr. Perchenski let on. I kind a thought she was overwhelmed. I was just wonderin' who was gonna tell Ms. Jeffers and I was worried about them sellin' her back hole that had never seen any action up to that point, as temptin' as it probably was for anyone gettin' a good look at her close up.

"Now, about doin' her bum, Lawton," he said, as if readin' my mind. "She's got to be a pro come openin' day, so to speak. So that's your job, breakin' her in. Bein' a natural whore, I don't expect it'll be too much to get her stretched out back there. You get her started before them Black boys starts usin' her little pussy tonight. Pick up some lubricatin' oil at the drug store if you think she'll need some, and enema bags. She's got to learn to do that her own self."

I scribbled down some notes.

"Ah, Sir, this sounds like a bit, um, well, too much," I stuttered. "I mean every five minutes is like a dozen cocks an hour. I'm not sure how long she'd be able to, um, keep it up, so to speak, Sir."

"You worry too much, son," Harper allowed with a chuckle. "She's a whore, for god's sake. Now don't be takin' pity on a cum dumpster like Ms. Jeffers. She'll manage and then some Lawton."

I guess I looked a bit skeptical still.

"Tell you what," he said in a considerate tone, like he was gonna do her a favor. "You get her ass broke in. Those Black boys already know they can use her back door tonight. I'll come by on Saturday afternoon and I'll try her out, maybe see how much she can do, sort of a trial run. We'll get a couple others and get a stop watch and see what she's like after, say, 30 minutes."

For the third time in 20 minutes I was so dumbfounded I couldn't speak. I should of kept my mouth shut. Buy Harper went on and on, givin' me names of guys to call so as we could give Ms. Jeffers a test run for the carnival.

"We need one more guy and that'd make six of us, Lawton," he finished. "Just get somebody you know from hangin' out over at Owens. We'll meet at your place at one o'clock and go up and do her from there. These'll all be freebees, tell 'em. Oh, and as a reward, get a couple cases of beer for the guys since they'll be workin' hard. "

It was like he was plannin' a Bible study or a card game. The fact that a somewhat clueless, vulnerable woman was going to get gangbanged in her own bed, and before she was scheduled to service more than half a dozen cocks off the banker's schedule, didn't seem to be any concern to the moneychanger. I was feelin' sick and it must of showed, 'cause Harper told me to go get an early lunch, grab some  food for Ms. Jeffers, and then start softenin' up her ass so as to get her ready for Saturday.

He handed me another 50 bucks.

"And son, if Landry's doesn't have that there K-tel jelly or whatever they call it, vegetable oil works just fine," he said, bestowing his wisdom upon me. "A bit messy, and it doesn't hurt to, um, pour a bit inside either. Keeps them good and lubed."

Before I got out of his office he stopped me. "Lawton, you called that Eaton woman, right?"

"Yessir," I said. "She'll be here quarter to five o'clock tomorrow. I did like you said and told her to come alone and up the back stairs. "

"Good, Lawton. Good!" he beamed. "You wanna stick around tomorrow for that meetin', I can almost promise you a piece of her. Word is she's got the wettest, juiciest married pussy in town and with Doc pumpin' her full of those horny pills like I asked him to, she'll be naked as a whore and spread out on this here desk by five o'clock. She's a real looker, can't be more than 45 with three kids. Husband works downstairs in payroll, so we best make sure he doesn't see her comin' up here. We can probably keep her puttin' out to pay that mortgage for a few months easy."

Awed and dumbstruck again, I just nodded, and found out later Harper took that for a 'yes' for my part in the conquest of Mrs. Eaton. But that's another story.

As I left, I couldn't help but reflect that the strangest night of my life had been followed by the most bizarre morning of my life. And the day was young yet. I felt bad about what I had to do to Ms. Jeffers, but I can tell you boys right now, I was as hard as a bank vault door anticipatin' her hind end and how it was gonna feel to lube it up and slide in. Course we all know that hole has been fucked hundreds, maybe thousands of times since, but that there afternoon was gonna be the first.

I made those calls to the men on Harper's list for Saturday afternoon. It kind of looked like he just went to the chamber of commerce membership list and picked the top executive members. It was awkward explainin' what it was about, but all three seemed to think it was a normal sort of conversation and asked if they could bring anything.

"I wouldn't mind bringin' my son along, Lawton," said Elvin Johnson from over at the Five and Dime. "Tell Harper I'll make a 20 dollar donation to the picnic iffin my boy Brad can take a whack at her. The wife and I are a bit worried he might be turnin' out a faery and this might be just what he needs. Talk is this Jeffer whore drives men crazy she's such a slut."

I told him I'd mention it to Old Mister Harper.

That left the one guy I was supposed to find. When I was in at Owens pickin' up clubhouse sandwiches, fries, and a couple milkshakes, I spied Jack finishin' his lunch. I'd met Jack a month or so before when I first moved to town, and he seemed a stand-up guy. We hung out together sometimes. I was wondering how to do Ms. Jeffers that afternoon, and it suddenly struck me that Jack and I could sort of double-team her.

"Looks like you're mighty hungry," Jack said, layin' a tip on the table and headin' for the counter. "You got a place yet or are you still out by the highway?"

"Takin' lunch back to my new place," I explained. "Got an upstairs neighbour I'm pickin' this up for. Say, why don't you drop by and I'll show you the new digs and introduce you to, um, Emily."

"You got a girl already Lawton?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Naw, she's the woman lives upstairs," I said, downplayin' any connection at that point. "Bank gave me the afternoon off, so if you can get away from that computer machine of yours for a few hours, drop by. Oh, if you can remember, bring over that new Tom Waits album, the one about the dogs. What's it called?"

"Rain Dogs," Jack said. "Yeah, it's amazing. You'll love it."

"I know I will," I allowed. "Hope you can stop in. I got somethin' I need somebody else's thinkin' on. And I don't know nobody else."

Jack looked me a question, but I said it'd keep 'til later. I told him where the new place was and he was out the door. The rest of my order came and I was back home a few minutes later wonderin' how I was going to start a conversation about guys doin' her back door and then actually slidin' my own self into her hind end to show her how.

"You sure treat me some good, Lawton," Ms. Jeffers said when I got to the top of the stairs. "I sure am hungry 'cause I slept clean through 'til just a half hour ago."

She was wearing a short sundress that, as usual, hid nothin' and accentuated what she had as her mound pushed out against the material, and her hard, ripe nipples poked through like they were lookin' for lips to suck on 'em.

I shared out the food and Ms. Jeffers dug in, takin' big bites of the clubhouse and suckin' the thick, chocolate milkshake up with ease, the slurping noises reminding me that she'd be suckin' big Black cock in just a few hours and I had to get her ass tuned up and stretched out long before that.

"You sure look like you got somethin' to say but can't get it out, Lawton," she said as she dipped a fry in that little tub of ketchup they give you. I'd stopped eatin' and was just sort of sittin' there lookin' at my paper plate. "I know they's things I gotta do, so iffin' you got that list and iffin' they want to do all three of my holes -- I just know it's gonna hurt bad, Lawton. Them Black boys is rough."

I looked up. She was trembling, tears glistenin' on her cheeks.

"I'm scared, Lawton," she said real low. "I know I'm a whore and all, but can't I just be a regular two-hole one? I can do that real good. All them guys cum in me and had a good time usin' me. Can't I just do that?"

She was all worked up and shakin' and sobbin' so I reached over and and held her hand and squeezed it some until she calmed down a trifle.

"Them Black boys tonight already been told your bum hole is for the takin', Ms. Jeffers," I said, tryin' to ease in to the subject, but it already got away on me with her bringin' it up first. "We're gonna show you how you can take them big cocks so as it don't hurt, and maybe even it'll feel real good once you learn how. I know you're all worried and upset, but soon you'll be doin' it all the time and wonderin' what you was so scared about."

"I don't know, Lawton," she sniffed. "That ain't what my bum's for. I got other holes made just for them boys' cocks. I must be dumb, Lawton."

We returned to finishin' our lunch, and Ms. Jeffers slurped up the last of her milkshake, lettin' out a big burb that got us both to laughin'.

"I done drank that too fast," she giggled. "I ain't had a milkshake in years, and I ain't never had a sandwich like that there, with all kinds of stuff on it. Never heard tell of it."

I was startin' to see she'd not seen much. And I learned her mama never had a television, and Abe Jeffers neither, so her view of the world was kinda narrow and the things she knew were just from hearin' other kids at school, or her mama talkin'. I made a mental note to get her a TV. In fact I knew Jack had just got a new one and had this little colored one you could set on top of a dresser.

We cleaned up the table and I told Ms. Jeffers I had to go out for a few minutes. I handed her the list of Black boys for that evening, and she run down it lookin' to see if she knew anyone.

"William Jefferson, he's okay," she muttered. "Billy Jackson, sure done teased me a lot. Them other guys I don't know, 'cept Mr. Stephensen was the janitor at Hollow High when I was there. Iffin' it's the same one."

I slipped out and down the stairs and headed for Landry's to pick up the enema stuff and the KY jelly, spendin' the rest of Harper's 50 dollars, 'cause I made sure I got enough of those one-use enema bottles to last her a month. I stashed all the stuff in the laundry room, checked on my apartment and even gave Jack a call.

"You still got that old TV," I asked. He did, and it worked, he said. I told him to bring it along when he came, explainin' that Ms. Jeffers didn't have one. I thought with bein' fucked all evenin' and then havin' nothin' to do all day waitin' to get fucked again the next evenin', she might want somethin' to occupy her time. I didn't tell Jack that, though. Jack said sure, he'd bring it over.

Finally, 'bout two o'clock, Jack showed up with the TV and brought it in to my place and left it at the door. I took him on a tour. I hadn't set up my stereo yet, but he said I could hang on to the Tom Waits record for a few days. My TV was hooked up to cable, so I got lots of channels, and Jack said he could fix it so as Ms. Jeffers got cable and nobody'd be the wiser.

We grabbed beers from my fridge and sat in the little living room facin' the street when I brought up the subject of doin' Ms. Jeffers up the ass. I explained it all out so as I wouldn't sound like a fool, relatin' about the church picnic, the carnival ride, and gittin' her turned into the complete three-hole whore everybody'd said she was.