The Pastors Wife Pt 04

Several months after the Reverend began punishing me for sleeping with his wife, things started to change. The Reverend and Sheila had grown closer together and Sheila was participating in my punishments as much or more than the Reverend. But I wasn't any more reformed than when we started. I still came loudly every time the Reverend had his way with me or when Sheila ate the Reverend's cum from my pussy. He seemed to think I might be a lost cause. I worried he would give up on me and end our sessions together. I hated to think of that because I had finally found a dominant partner and felt more satisfied than I ever had been.

Then one week, Sheila told me to pack for a weekend getaway. I was excited. A whole weekend alone with Sheila and her husband, hopefully spent in bed. And although the Reverend restricted my contact with Sheila to post coital oral sex, I hoped that the extended time together might lead to closer contact with Sheila. I missed the one-on-one time we used to have, bringing each other to climax over and over.

We were going to leave on Friday. "What should I tell my folks?" I asked.

"The Reverend has taken care of it. He told them he has to attend a conference in Tupelo and said he wanted you to join us to keep me company, since we've become such good friends."

My parents seemed pleased that I was going on a trip with their pastor and his wife. It was as if my good standing with the Reverend and his wife confirmed they had raised me well and in their minds, I think it raised their status within the congregation. They probably hoped the Reverend would introduce me to a nice young minister who would marry me and make them some grand babies. If only they knew why the Reverend had really taken an interest in me. But like everyone else in the congregation, they seemed blinded by his charismatic presence during services and his charming personality at social functions. No one suspected he harbored dark desires and engaged in extramarital sexual activities.

I wasn't sure what to pack for the trip, but Sheila assured me I could pack light. "I doubt you'll be wearing much while we are gone," she teased. I blushed at the thought. I didn't ask for details of the trip. I knew the Reverend wasn't really going to a conference. It was just a ruse to extend my next punishment from a few hours to a few days and I let my imagination run wild with possibilities.

We skipped our Thursday night session that week and they picked me up at my house early Friday morning. My parents got up early to see me off, making sure I had a good breakfast and gave me advice on how to behave on the trip, presumably so I wouldn't embarrass them. They chatted with the Reverend when he came to the door to help me with my bag, clearly in awe of his presence at their home, and they waved enthusiastically to us as we pulled away.

We drove for over 2 hours in the general direction of Tupelo. The roads grew more rural as we drove and we ended up in a heavily wooded area. The Reverend finally turned onto a narrow private road and after about half a mile, we came to a large, secluded cabin surrounded by lush greenery. The sunlight was dappled through the trees. We got out of the car and I could hear a faint buzzing of insects and the whisper of leaves blowing in the wind. Summer was giving way to fall and the days were getting cooler, but it was still comfortable out. I looked up at the canopy of trees overhead and enjoyed the breeze on my face.

The Reverend went ahead to unlock the cabin, open up the windows and turn on the power. Sheila and I grabbed the bags of groceries they had brought and carried them into the kitchen. The Reverend finished unloading the car.

After helping Sheila unpack the groceries, I explored the cabin. It was fairly modern inside with a fully equipped kitchen, a combined living room and dining room area, a full bathroom near the front door, and two bedrooms in the back, one smaller and a larger bedroom with an attached bathroom. The Reverend had put my bag in the master bedroom. It had a large bed with a wooden canopy bed frame that seemed out of place in a cabin bedroom. The bathroom was small with a shower tub combo. There was also a small walk in closet that was empty except for some spare blankets up on the shelf.

I was about to head back to the living room when the Reverend stepped into the doorway, blocking my exit. "This will be your room while we are here, Miss Ingram. Go ahead and unpack." He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching me.

I placed my bag on the foot of the bed and unzipped it. I pulled out my clothes I had brought and looked around. There was a chest of drawers against the same wall as the door. I put my folded clothes in the drawer. I didn't have much since it was just a weekend trip and Sheila had told me to pack light. I didn't have any clothes to hang in the closet. I took out my toiletry bag and went to the bathroom and set it on the counter by the sink. I had a couple of books in my bag that I placed on the nightstand table. All that remained in my bag was a pair of tennis shoes.

"I can take that," the Reverend said and reached out and took the nearly empty overnight bag from me. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"Mrs. Ward will be in shortly," he said, then closed the door as he left, leaving me standing in the room by myself. I heard a click and after he walked away, I tried to turn the door handle and found it was locked. I'm not sure what I expected on this trip, but hadn't considered I'd be held prisoner. I looked around the room and decided it wasn't too bad. I had my books and a bathroom and what looked like a comfy bed. It was like a forced vacation. Things could be worse.

I took my phone out of my pocket, thinking I'd text my parents that I had arrived, but discovered I had no cell coverage out here. I felt isolated for a moment, realizing I was locked in a room in a remote cabin with no way to contact anyone. But my parents knew I was with the Reverend and Mrs. Ward, so I felt safe. They would take care of me. I slipped off my shoes, climbed onto the bed and opened one of my books. I hadn't had a vacation in a long time. It felt good to have nothing else to do.

I had only read a few pages of my book before I heard a noise at the door and Sheila came in with a tray of food. She closed the door behind her and came over to the bed. "I made us some lunch," she said, setting the tray on the bed and climbing into the bed next to me. We had sandwiches, fruit and ice tea. We sat next to each other and ate in bed. She made small talk about the cabin and asked if I was comfortable in the room.

I told her it was a nice room, but wondered if I was going to be locked in the whole weekend. "It looks so nice outside. What's the plan for the weekend?"

"The Reverend has plans for you this afternoon. I'm not sure about the rest of the weekend yet. It might depend on how today goes," she told me.

"Are you going to tell me what his plans are?" I asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," was all she'd tell me.

After we finished eating, Sheila suggested I take a nap. "You'll need your rest," she said cryptically. She took the tray and left the room, locking the door behind her.

I stretched out on the bed and tried to rest, but I was too excited thinking about what the Reverend had planned. Various scenarios played out in my head. I'd noticed that in the months since I'd gone off the pill, my sex drive had skyrocketed. I had had a high sex drive while on the pill and hadn't realized that the pill had suppressed my libido at all. But now that I wasn't on artificial hormones, I was horny all the time, but especially mid-cycle, when I presumed I was ovulating. The twice weekly sessions with the Reverend and Mrs. Ward were hardly enough to satiate me and the restriction on masturbating was driving me crazy. That was one reason I was so excited about this weekend - I was hoping for 3 days of steady fucking.

I tossed and turned for an hour or so before trying to read my book again. I dozed off while reading and woke up when Sheila came back in the room that afternoon. She was holding a white gown. She laid it on the bed and announced "Time for a bath, Kristen!" I found it interesting that she continued to call me by my first name while the Reverend always called me 'Ms. Ingram'. But I think it helped reinforce the power dynamic in the relationship, since I was always to call her 'Mrs. Ward', while she was informal with me.

She led me into the bathroom and began to fill the tub. She found some bath salts under the sink and added them to the water. It smelled like lavender. Once the tub was full and she was satisfied with the temperature, she told me to get in. I undressed myself and left my clothes on the floor. When I stepped into the tub, the water was painfully hot. I could see steam rising off the surface of the water. I pulled my foot back out, but Sheila came over to me and said I needed a hot bath to purify myself. Purify myself for what, I wondered.

Holding my arm, she helped me ease into the hot water. I felt pins and needles on my skin as I lowered myself down. But within a minute, I got acclimated to the water and it was less painful. She soaped up a washcloth and began to scrub my skin which was already turning red from the heat of the water. She started with my neck and shoulders and worked her way down each arm. She washed my back, then my chest, circling my breasts with the washcloth before reaching below the water's surface to wash my stomach. I wished she would touch me with her hands directly, but enjoyed the intimacy of having her bathe me. She had me lift each leg out of the water so she could wash the length of my legs without reaching too deeply into the tub.

When she finished with my legs, she had me stand up and spread my legs facing the side wall of the tub. Starting behind me, she washed my lower back, my hips, and my ass, massaging me with the soapy washcloth. I felt myself growing wet as she washed my upper thighs that she couldn't reach when I was sitting down. Then she had me turn around and she ran the washcloth over my mound and between my legs, washing gently, but thoroughly between the folds of my sex.

After she finished my body, I sat back down in the tub and she used the removable shower head to wash my hair. The conditioner she used smelled like roses. When she was finished, I stood up and she used the shower head to rinse me from top to bottom. Returning the showerhead to its mount, she helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in a towel.

She patted my skin dry and wrapped my hair in the towel. Then she had me sit on the edge of the tub. She got a razor and shaving cream from the medicine cabinet and came over to me. Kneeling down on a towel in front of me, she spread my legs. I kept my pussy trimmed, but not shaved, except my bikini line. I had never shaved off everything and the thought of her shaving me turned me on.

Without saying a word, she spread shaving cream over all my pubes and began to shave me, rinsing the razor in the bath water between strokes. I watched the razor nervously as she trailed it down my inner thighs. Then starting at the top of my mound, she carefully shaved downward in small strokes. After shaving the hair above my pubic bone, she had me hold my legs open wider and began carefully drawing the the razor's blade over my outer labia, down to my asshole. She repeated this on the other side. Then she used one hand to open up my folds so she could remove the remaining hair. As she approached the hair around my clitoris, I could feel my body growing tense. I worried she might cut my delicate skin. But she worked carefully, reapplying shaving cream towards the end, working painstakingly to give me a close, thorough shave.

When she was satisfied, she drained the tub and had me step back in. She aimed the removable shower head between my legs and turned it on to rinse me off. When the hard jets of water hit my newly shaved vulva, the pleasure was immediate and intense. She ran her fingers over my smooth labia to help rinse off the remaining shaving cream and loose hairs. I instinctively opened my legs to accommodate her. When a stream of water hit my clitoris, I moaned and had to brace myself against the shower wall. I could have stayed there for an hour letting the water stimulate me. It was like no other sensation.

Sheila's fingers were continuing to run across my skin and I realized her movements were no longer perfunctory. Her fingers were lingering near my slit, sliding up and running over my clit. Between her fingers and the shower head I started to breathe heavily. Sheila turned off the water and hung up the shower head. I whimpered in frustration, but she patted me dry again, removed the towel from my hair, and led me back to the bed. She had me lie down then crawled in after me, still fully clothed.

Her hand went immediately to my freshly shaved sex, and I gasped. I could tell I was slick with natural lubrication. She toyed with my pussy for a minute, running her fingers over me, rubbing my clit and sliding a finger into me now and again (a forbidden act given the Reverend's explicit instructions I not be penetrated by anything other than his cock). Then she lowered her head and I felt her tongue near my asshole and run slowly up the length of my vulva until she was probing my clit with her tongue. I'd never been shaved bald before and the feeling of her tongue on my skin was incredible. Between the act of shaving itself, the showerhead rinse, and now Sheila's warm, wet mouth, I was already close to climaxing.

"Oh, oh, Mrs. Ward! Oh fuck! Please don't stop," I cried out as she continued to lick my pussy. I was so close that when she slid 3 fingers into me, it pushed me over the edge and I cried out as my orgasm overpowered me.

Afterwards, I lay panting on the bed and Sheila lay next to me. I turned to look into her eyes. She was smiling at me. "I'm just supposed to get you ready for tonight, but you looked so delicious, I couldn't help myself. Hopefully Mike won't be too angry with me."

Lately, the Reverend never seemed angry with Sheila. And she'd starting calling him Mike instead of Reverend like I still did. Instead of the Reverend dominating both Sheila and I, the dynamics had changed to the point that Sheila and the Reverend were dominating me as a team, with the Reverend treating Sheila almost as his equal. Although Sheila had played at dominating me during our secret affair because she knew I liked it, I was now truly her submissive. The Reverend had trained her well.

When I recovered from my orgasm, Sheila retrieved some scented lotion from the bathroom and rubbed it over my skin. I had shaved my legs and under my arms that morning, so my skin was smooth all over. She had me sit up on the bed as she rubbed the lotion over my back and arms. Then she laid me back on the bed and applied lotion to my chest, massaging my breasts as she did, and pinching my nipples teasingly. She continued to apply lotion to my stomach, slowly and methodically, covering every inch of my skin as she moved down my body. She took each leg and massaged lotion into my thighs, my calves and down to my feet, even between my toes.

The slow massage with lotion left me feeling relaxed and sleepy. When she was finished, she brushed out my long blond hair. I felt fresh and clean. Lastly, she helped me into the white gown she had set on the bed earlier. It was a simple cotton nightgown, sleeveless and fell just above my knees.

"No underwear?" I asked.

"You don't need any," she replied.

She looked me over, and seeming satisfied with my appearance, she put everything away. Then she picked up my clothes from the bathroom floor, walked over to the dresser, opened it, removed my clothes I had put away earlier, then took the whole bundle and started to leave.

"What are you doing with my clothes?" I asked.

"You won't need these while you are here," she said as she turned to look back at me sitting on the bed. Seeing my shoes by the bed, she walked over, picked up my shoes and left the room, locking the door behind her.

I briefly thought that perhaps I should be worried that I was locked in a room in a remote cabin with no clothes except a summer nightgown, no way to contact the outside world, no way to escape. Even if I could climb out a window (a possibility I hadn't yet explored), I now had no shoes or real clothes to wear while navigating the unfamiliar woods. But the fact was, I wasn't worried at all. I was exhilarated. If the shower and events immediately following were a preview of what was to come, this was going to be one of the best weekends of my life.