Prudence slid her hands over Letha's sharp tits and whirled her jutting nipples. The blonde writhed beneath her, arching and moaning with delight. Pleasure flowed through her veins. Letha raised her ass off the couch to ease pressure on her cuffed wrists, and to feel more of the lesbian's enticing tongue.
"You'll never want a rough man to touch you again," Miss Stark said. "I will convert you and spare you from male degradation."
Artful cunt sucking only made Letha want to feel cock again, but her lips curled with a sly smile.
"Yyyyeeesss! How marvelous it is to learn new ways. Eat me, Prudence… make me cum."
A plan had formed in her mind. She would feign conversion to passion without the penis – that way she'd never be suspected when the Phantom struck again.
Prudence tongued and sucked her new devotee to an orgasm that built, slowly, the taut spasms increasing with almost unbearable suspense. When the tremors peaked and wrenched, she let out a scream, but Miss Stark kept sucking and twirling. Letha's jarred senses soared.
Then while her bald-shaved pussy was still in the throes of thrilling contractions, Miss Stark lunged forward like a man. Sleek musk, fresh from Letha's cunt, dripped from the woman's smiling lips.
"My luscious little treat," she said. "That was only foreplay. Now I'm going to clit-fuck you to rapturous joy!"
She dropped on her captive and there was an immediate spark as though an electric current had passed between them. Their cunts had touched.
Miss Stark pumped her slender hips and intensified the pressure until Letha was moaning and thrusting back. Their two buttery cunt buds swarmed and squirmed all over each other.
Letha's sharp gasps voiced her delight. She hated being chained and used by the older woman as much as she'd hated being held a helpless prisoner by the young men at first, but she warmed quickly to Prudence Stark's impassioned thrusts. The silver-haired librarian was a consummate master of clit stimulation.
Their clits raged with shocking sensations of pleasure, boiling more wet honey from both of their cunts. The office smelled like a whorehouse on a busy Saturday night.
The blonde's pussy convulsed into spasms of wringing wild pleasure meant to entice a man's cock to explosive eruption. But there was no man's cock. Not even a plunging finger her cunt could get a grip on.
Letha moaned, enjoying the sensations of climax as they came together. Both wailed raptured cries, hugging and kissing with passion, grinding their hips with lewd fervor.
Miss Stark kept up her twisting and grinding thrusts, prolonging the throes of shared rapture several minutes longer than even the most virile man could.
But she had no cock, and she delighted Letha without fully satisfying her. Letha could have screamed: I need a cock! but restrained her cry of frustration because she didn't want Prudence to have even a hint of what was in her mind.
Instead, she grinned contentedly, catching her breath only long after Miss Stark had exhausted herself and stifled her hips.
"I knew you'd like it," the head librarian said with a beaming grin. "Women don't really need crude men. We're better off without them."
Letha was thinking: If you only knew! The delirious aftershocks in her empty cunt were unfulfilling without a man's cock to feel the contractions and respond with its own pulsing.
"Now shall we try some sixty-nine?" the head librarian asked. "I'm anxious for you to suck my big throbbing clit, so that you'll never hunger for the bestial abuse of a man spilling his seed in your pretty throat."
The blonde sighed. "Yes, let's do that. I've never seen a clit as big and swollen hard as yours. I want to suck it and make you cum."
Hours passed before Miss Stark had sated, her hunger for baby-bald cunt and released the weary blonde assistant librarian from her restraints. They'd shared a dozen cock-less climaxes which had brought wracking sighs of satisfaction from the older woman's lips. Letha had made the same breathy noises, but hers were toned with increasing frustration.
Back at her desk, Letha looked up Dick Williams in the library card file. Long Dick Williams and his friend Rich's longer cock would have been better for her purposes, but Richard Sims was off on his honeymoon, delighting his young wife.
"Hello?" came Long Dick's curious voice when he answered the phone.
Letha spoke in the low, breathy tone she felt certain he'd remember from their three-day revel.
Surprised and delighted, Long Dick said, "It's you!" But then his tone cooled. "If you're drumming up business, I can't afford an expensive whore right now."
"What I'm going to give you won't cost a thing. I'm a librarian, remember? My services come free with your card. All I want first is a favor."
"What kind of favor?" Long Dick asked.
Letha explained, "I have a female friend with the same problem as Richard. She's still a virgin, a simply stunning older woman who doesn't know what she's missed."
"Send her around any time," Long Dick said cheerfully.
"That isn't possible in her special case. She's so timid and shy that we must bring the pleasure to her…"
Letha went on to explain her devious plan. There were things even a head librarian had to be taught.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The basement of Miss Stark's elegant Victorian home had been turned into a parlor for secret lesbian pleasures. There, she reigned like a high priestess on the Isle of Lesbos, where in ancient times female homosexuality was practiced with all the fervor of a primitive religion.
Prudence Stark had her own devoted following, mostly young girls still shy of boys but with bodies that felt restless with natural curiosity. Some had responded to her preachings and clit ministerings with unfailing devotion. Prudence loved them. Others gave in to more unnatural impulses – Miss Stark enjoyed them even more. She had a darker side, a need for physical conquest and control stronger than that of the most unflinching rough male.
Gloria was a sultry redhead, one of Miss Stark's most devoted disciples until she had been attracted to and seduced by a college freshman football star. A girlfriend of Gloria's had related the news to Miss Stark in lurid detail the day before.
Now Miss Stark had had Gloria brought back to the basement temple by force. Her fiercely devoted followers had ripped off the redhead's clothes and bound Gloria naked to the rugged cross that was their revered symbol of suffering. The towering, foot-thick main timber had been carved to look like a huge circumcised cock. Simulated veins, stained darker than the shaft, stood out in bold relief.
The cross arm was also intricately carved, each side looking like a four-foot-long prick with a wrinkled cowl of foreskin partly drawn back by erection. Just the sight of that ominous symbol was enough to send shivers of fear into a girl.
But Gloria now feared it only because of the wrath of her livid high priestess. The redhead had felt a prick plunging in deep and had learned to like it a lot better than the female pleasures she'd been taught to revere.
Miss Stark paced the chilly stone floor. A long black whip trailed along the floor behind her. Her knuckles paled with strain as she clenched the whip's black wooden handle.
It, too, was also carved to look like an ominous cock. She poked Gloria's fiery, red-furred pussy mound with the huge knobbed head of the whip handle.
"You've fallen from grace!" the bitch Goddess declared coldly. "You've given yourself to a man. You're unclean and unfit to warship with the others in this hallowed place!"
Gloria was tightly bound to the cross, her arms spread wide, her feet fled one over the other with a circulation-stopping rawhide thong. Though pained and frightened, the girl snapped back at her regal tormentor.