Puritan Whores Ch1

I would be married in less than a week. Tied down with a wife and kids. Well kid anyway.

Right now though I sit in front of my computer. One of the few things not yet packed for the move.

I have a box of tissues and a bottle of lotion nearby.

On the screen two women were humiliated and abused. I loved that kind of rough porn. Women being violated. The illusion of it anyway. I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone in real life. Not without consent.

The video was a parody of a popular fantasy show. The two women, one mature the other barely out of her teens, had their hands tied behind their backs.

They were forced to walk naked down what looked like a medieval city street. An angry crowd threw tomatoes at them and whipped them with leather belts.

Lotion on my hand, I slowly stroke my hard cock.

The women were led to what looked like butcher’s blocks. They were made to kneel and rest their heads on the hard wood.

Instead of an executioner, there were a number of men. Naked except for dark hoods.

The men line up behind the two women and begin fucking. Pounding the two of them from behind.

After the girls take their second load of cum I switch videos. I also slow down stroking my dick. I don’t want to finish right away.

On the screen, hentai women are violated repeatedly by demons in a colorful cartoon. I can feel my orgasm rising as tummies swell with monstrous spawn.

Switching to a third, and no doubt final, video I slowly brush the tip of my cock. Relishing the sensation.

An Asian girl is molested on a bus. Hands groping her tits and ass. Getting bolder by the second. I groan as I watch the video. I’m getting close. With her clothes mostly off she is pushed to her knees. Cocks surrounding her. She submissively sucks and jerks them.

I moan my pleasure as I cum into a handful of tissues.

Sated, I lean back and rest. The girl on the screen protesting as the first dick slowly pushes its way into her tight cunt.

I would have to pack the computer soon.

Though maybe not until after a round two.

Deacon’s Hearth was a village taken straight out of the early nineteenth century.

It had been founded around three large stones. Practically pillars. A sect of fundamentalists believed it was a place where god had touched the earth. The stones were considered sacred.

The people of the village shunned modernity, much like the Amish. And lived much like they did a hundred and fifty years ago.

Unfortunately for them this caused issues with the government. So they were forced to deed the land to a family tasked with keeping Uncle Sam away.

My family.

Ultimately the land has been an albatross around our necks ever since. We couldn’t really use it for anything. It was basically just the village and some surrounding farmland. Some woods. And the caretakers home. A large farmhouse that really needed some renovation.

I was the last surviving member of the family. My parents died when I was young. I had been raised by boarding schools while my grandfather looked after the land.

Now he is gone too.

As he lay dying he made a deal with the village elders. Worried about the future of the village, they pressured him into an arraigned marriage for me.

They are understandably worried. The outside world is nothing like theirs. They want to make sure I have ties to the land.

I’m still not sure why I agreed. I guess I was feeling lost. I recently got a PHD in Astrobiology. Which is neat, but now I’m not sure what to do.

This seemed like the easiest next step.

The wedding was…different. I didn’t have any family. I had only a few friends left from collage. None who lived in the state. So it was just me, and what seemed like the whole village.

I met my wife for the first time at the alter. I’m sure the village elders loved that.

I had stood there. Nervous and waiting. Alone except for the priest, as she slowly came down the isle. Neck to ground covered by her white gown. Face covered by heavy veils. At least I could tell she wasn’t fat.

The only color she had was a red sash. It was a mark that she was not pure. She had been married before, but lost her husband young.

I didn’t care about that though.

We said our vows and it was finally time to raise her veil.

My breath stopped. She was beautiful.

Pale freckled skin. Light, orange/red hair. And piercing green eyes. Surrounded by cute little laugh lines.

We kissed in front of the village and she felt like heaven. Josephine…my wife.

Now it’s my wedding night. We are in the farmhouse that is now to be our home. It definitely needed work.

I wait in the master bath. She asked me for some privacy to ready for our consummation. Odd, but I had agreed.

“Husband. I am ready.” She called.

Naked I step into the large bedroom. Dominated by the big four post bed. She lay on her back. Above the covers, but below a sheet. Her outline certainly enticing. She had a medium build. Pleasantly soft, with some obviously large breasts.

She smiled at me nervously. I grinned and walked closer. When I grab the edge of the sheet though…”No, please. A wife should not drive her husband mad with lust. We must have relations through the sheet.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Then I notice she is motioning to her crotch. There’s a hole in the sheet. Are you kidding me?

Still, I didn’t want to disrespect her. Or frighten her our first night.

I climb on top of her. On top of the sheet.

I struggle to find my spot. She gasps and blushes as my fingers brush her fuzzy peach. Then I’m pushing into her. She is pretty dry at first. And it’s a little uncomfortable.

She closes her eyes. In pain? Pleasure? Not happy? I don’t know.

Soon enough we have some lubrication. And my thrusts become smoother. I want to touch and explore her body, but the sheet is like a giant sign saying ‘NO!’

I groan as I finish inside her. Inside my wife.

“I…I would like to clean up.” She says nervously. I nod and leave the bedroom. Soon she comes out in a heavy wool nightgown. Nearly every inch of her covered.

“Good night.” She gives me a slightly strained smile. I watch as she walks down the hall to her own bedroom. Admiring her long orange hair. She wears it in a simple braid and it extends past her ass.

I head to bed alone.

For the next couple days Josephine spends her time cleaning, gardening, or cooking.

I dive in on renovations. Grandpa was a poor caretaker. He also hadn’t left much of an inheritance.

I would have to prioritize. I almost hated to do it but most of the money would be blown on getting some high speed internet run out. Something fast.

My hope is that we could set up some sort of shop online. Right now the villagers take their goods to a farmers market once a week. Hopefully we could bump up profits with an online shop.

The second night as husband and wife I had expected my wife to get ready for more sex. We were newlyweds after all. I definitely found her attractive.

She told me that a husband and wife were to lay with each other no more than once a month. Lest the man be driven mad with lust. Twice during planting season.

I made myself acquainted with my hand again.

Josephine was excited because her daughter was returning. She had been on a trip to find a husband in a nearby Amish community.

Because of her mother they were something of pariahs in the village and she wouldn’t be allowed a match here.

Unfortunately we soon found out she couldn’t get one away from there either.

“I’m so sorry mama.” Abigail says as they embrace.

She was nineteen and as beautiful as her mother. Another ginger with freckles on her pale face. Long curly red hair with darker tints than her mother.

“That’s ok, honey. You always have a place here.” They turn to me. Looking cute in their grey dresses. “This is your new father. Booker.”

I reach out my hand. The teen hesitates before taking it. “Pleased to meet you.” I say with a smile.

She shakes my hand then gives me a small curtsy. “And you father.”

She spends the rest of the day helping her mother tend to the housekeeping. Though I notice the occasional curious glance from the girl.

We must look a sight. Me in my modern jeans and T-shirt. Smart phone and electric wiring. The two girls dressed like they were living on an 1820’s farm. Literally washing with a board and tub.

I shouldn’t be watching.

My dick was in my hand, I was slowly stroking it.

My wife and daughter were in the old barn. There was an big tub out there and they had filled it with hot water.

Josephine disapproved of modernity. Just like the rest of the village. She only cooked in the chimney. She didn’t use indoor plumbing, except the toilet, since there was no outhouse. And she completely stayed away from my computer and electronics.

The electric lighting was about it. She had decided it didn’t make sense not to use it, if I was going to anyway. Lanterns would just be wasteful. Their good book had a lot to say on the subject of waste apparently.

Abigail, on the other hand was more open to the idea. When her mother couldn’t see her anyway. I had even seen her pushing keys on the computer, though the monitor wasn’t on.