The Ballad of Emily Jeffers

NOTE: This is the fifth 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. It's best to read the previous chapters first.

Andi and I had a history, so I wasn't gettin' out of this and it looked like I wasn't gettin' out of Johnsons Hollow anytime soon.

We all shared out the pitcher, and I knew I only had about a half hour before Andi'd be usherin' people out and lockin' the doors. So there wasn't much time to even come close to finishin' the story about Ms. Jeffers and Mrs. Eaton. So I figured I'd speed it up a bit so I could at least cover the next few days and possibly weeks.

I remembered leavin' off with Mrs. Eaton havin' her breakfast, must of been one o'clock in the mornin'. She hadn't had any supper, and she'd pretty much fucked six or seven hours straight, so she was hungry, and seemed to gain a bit of strength from the food.

Ms. Jeffers was tired and barely finished her food before she was noddin' off right there at the table. I helped her naked body up and might have caught a few feels as I got her into bed. I'd put on fresh sheets out of a linen closet and pulled a thin blanket up over her as she snuggled in.

I found that teddy bear on the floor between the bed and dresser and pushed it into her arms as she drifted off, her perfect body still tingling from hours and hours of fucking and her almost child-like mind probably dreamin' about butterflies.

She was such a contradiction.

Her body in orgasm was quite possibly the most amazing thing I'd ever seen, especially the ecstasy on her face as that tingle in her pussy became a jolt of pure, almost electric pleasure rippling out from her pulsing, swollen clit throughout her entire body. And during those many hours of fucking she would orgasm perhaps two, three dozen times.

Mrs. Eaton was the same. She came constantly, giving credence to Pastor Brown's notion she was a whore and an automaton -- a body that was without soul and was designed to be used for a specific task. Like a machine. And that its only desire, need, want was to pleasure itself, and in that frenzy of lust only gave more pleasure to those using her.

I wondered now if the same was true of Ms. Jeffers. Was she simply a 'thing' to be used? Were all whores expendable or interchangeable pieces of warm, wet  meat? They were both self-lubricating, both became frantic with desire when stimulated. And so far, although somewhat reluctant mentally, they seem resigned to their fates and were adjusting and adapting both emotionally and physically. Their bodies were dictating what they were becoming.

And then, as I led Mrs. Eaton, still naked, down to my  apartment, I wondered if, in fact, all women were whores beneath a facade of learned civil behavior. If pressures and environments changed, would they reveal themselves as whores? It seemed all men believed women used their pussies to get what they wanted within, and even outside relationships.

Mrs. Eaton knew she was in for more fucking, but she was mentally and emotionally exhausted. When I spread her out on the bed, she was barely keeping her eyes open, but that distinctive pussy aroma began to fill the air and I could see her juices starting to glisten in the entrance to her loose cunt.

If her mind wasn't up for more fuckin', her body sure was. And I quickly kicked off my jeans and slid my raging boner into her in one motion, bringing a gasp and then a moan. She was so much looser than she had been when I fucked her the first time just eight or nine hours earlier. The difference was incredible. But she was just as wet and juicy and she felt so good. And any guilt about usin' this wife and mother of three was completely gone after what Pastor Brown had said really sank in.

I didn't pound her. I just maintained a slow rhythm inside her. She kept producin' pussy juice, and it felt luxurious slowly sliding in and out of her to her constant moans and occasional orgasms. I'm not even sure if she was fully awake, but her body kept doing what it was supposed to do -- lubricate and milk cock.

I was fuckin' her just enough to keep myself on edge, slowin' down or stoppin' when I got too close. She was like warm, wet silk. It was the center of the universe, her cunt. I could understand God wantin' to make somethin' this perfect but I wasn't so sure why he'd made it just to be ruined by countless dozens of cocks. I suppose the purpose was for the men to get the pleasure, not the whore, if Pastor Brown's theory was correct.

After about 45 minutes, I decided it was time to dump my third load of the day into Mrs. Eaton. She'd had two from Old Mister Harper, three now from me, one from her husband, I think three from Pastor Brown, and I'm guessing two each from Chief Wallace and Deputy Birch. A dozen loads from six cocks. And if she had a dozen loads, she had two dozen orgasms. She got more pleasure out of bein' a whore than any man could imagine, despite the shame and humiliation of bein' lower than the dirt in the gutter.

Mrs. Eaton felt my cum jet into her and gave a little moan at each spurt, but not enough to put her over the edge in her sleepy state. But she snuggled in with her lips on my neck and her hands around my back, her legs stayed wrapped around me as she pulled me in as far as my cock would go. I stayed in her for it must have been ten minutes with her hips moving just enough so you'd notice it.

Eventually I rolled off and she opened her eyes and smiled so beautifully with that auburn hair spread out all around her shoulders, and her big firm tits swaying slightly with her breathin'. I looked down and her swollen clit was pulsing slightly and her puffed up cunt lips were a sheen of juices. It was such an intoxicating sight, her body all perfect and just fucked and her smile one of complete contentment.

All of her makeup was gone after a couple of showers and a bath, but she really didn't need it. I'd see her plenty in the days and weeks to come with whore makeup on, meant to attract cock and if truth be told, reduce her to her base self in the eyes of the men fucking her. The makeup tellin' them she wanted cock -- a signal to men sayin' it's okay to use her and you don't have to feel guilty.

But right then, in her natural state, she was beautiful. She looked like anybody's mother. Anybody's wife. Like an innocent woman worthy of respect, kindness, and compassion, not a whore worth virtually nothin' 'cept for her pussy and ass and how well she could control her gag reflex.

"Thanks for bein' gentle, Lawton," she said, low. "I know what I am, and you coulda done me hard and nobody would've cared. Nobody cares about sluts. But you done me easy like Ms. Jeffers said you do her sometimes -- like a lover. Will you do me like that time to time, Lawton? I know I ain't nothin' anymore account a bein' a whore. But I'd sure like to feel like I was worth somethin' once in a while."

I told her I would, from time to time. But I told her I was just an ordinary man and might need to do her hard sometimes too. And her bein' a whore she had to know that was gonna happen to her and she was just a body like Pastor Brown explained.

"Your body excites men into gettin' horny," I said. "That's just a natural thing whores do. So you just have to expect they'll be doin' you accordin' to how you done got them revved up. If they get rough a little bit, that's 'cause of the effect you have on them."

"Pastor Brown done explained that all out while he was fuckin' me, Lawton," she said, so sad like I thought she was ready to cry. "Said someday when I die, I ain't goin' to heaven nor to hell. I'll just stop bein' altogether 'cause whores is just put on this Earth for fuckin' and to help make people happy and the world a better place. He said just like a cow was put on Earth to produce milk, I was put on Earth to produce pleasure. He told me just to accept what I am and focus on bein' the best whore I can be and pleasin' the most cocks as possible. And to keep takin' those vitamins Doc Egerton's been givin' me."

The smell of her pussy was almost overpowering. And I knew she was puttin' off pheromones like crazy and that was what drew men to whores like her and Ms. Jeffers. There was no denyin' that when a person was anywhere near either woman, sex was the only thing they could think about.

I held her and we kissed, tongues intertwined and dancin'. Her tits were pressed tight against me as we lay facing each other, and she'd slid one leg up over my hips so her wet, swollen cunt pushed against my hip, our mixed juices spillin' out all over both of us.

Right then I figured she was pretty much like any other woman. Maybe better lookin'. Certainly more sexual. But certainly human and with all the worries, concerns, emotions of a real woman, even if society was now sayin' she was just a whore and therefore just a bunch of wet holes. I had laid with Ms. Jeffers the same way as her plentiful juices drenched the sheets and my cum leaked out of her. They were similar, but not the same.

The way I saw it, Ms. Jeffers was a small but powerful sports car. Mrs. Eaton was more like a luxury sedan with a bit more power and a smoother ride with more comfortable upholstery. You wouldn't mind takin' Mrs. Eaton for a long and luxurious ride.

I broke the kiss and kissed and licked her neck and ear, almost immediately increasing the flow of her pussy juice and bringin' out little moans.

"What's gonna happen to me, Lawton," she asked. "I done lost my kids, my husband, probably all my friends. Now all them Black men is just gonna play with me and Bob ain't never gonna take me back. I guess I brung it on my own self, losin' that mortgage money. I know I done paid it right there at the teller's window. Even got receipts for it every time."

That got me curious. I said all she had to do was show the receipts and that'd be proof. It sounded to me like a bank employee might be the one to blame.

"I had all them receipts in my binder, all in order and everything," she said. "Then when Mr. Harper called and said I didn't pay them four months runnin', I dug out the binder. But the receipts was gone."

Suddenly I knew what was going on. Bob Eaton, Old Mister Harper, and Doc Egerton had conspired over a fair bit of time to turn a housewife and mother into the whore she was today. Doc said he'd been Mrs. Eaton's doctor goin' on most of her life. So I asked her about Doc Egerton.

"He done took a special interest in me," Mrs. Eaton said. "I turned 18 he started sayin' I needed to take this vitamin and that vitamin and he'd give me bottles of them every few months. Then I had some trouble and he changed my birth control, but they didn't work too well 'cause that's when I got knocked up with Benny."

Her third pregnancy was the same. It happened when Doc put her on some new birth control. In reality, I found out later, he took her off birth control all together just to see if she'd get knocked up.

It seemed that over the years, Doc Egerton was feedin' Mrs. Eaton some sort of medication most of the time, and her need to fuck grew as he handed her more pills right up 'til the present when she'd been takin' the 'new' vitamins that I knew were estrogen that not only increased her libido but plumped up her pussy and made it more sensitive and increased the flow of her cunt juice.

I wondered how many other women Doc Egerton was playin' with and makin' all horny and needin' cock all the time. Ms. Jeffers went to him, and she was about as cock hungry as any woman I'd ever seen beside Mrs. Eaton.

"Has Doc ever fucked you," I asked. "You turnin' 18 and him examinin' your bare pussy and puttin' his fingers up in you?"

"Sure," she said. "Says he has a right to, him helpin' keep me healthy. After the first time I guess I just got used to it. He'd schedule appointments every few months. Figured I must turn him on or somethin'. So really, it was my fault to start with, I guess, teasin' him and all with my bare tits and pussy. And Bob always been remindin' me about followin' Doc's orders and makin' sure I made all my appointments. Doc even sent  me to a hypnotist over in Haler City to get me to quit smokin'. Took five tries, but I ain't never smoked a cigarette again."

We drifted off, me wakin' up late, but I must of had that thought about Doc Egerton in the back of my mind all along, 'cause I figured I'd do a little snoopin' and see if I could figure out if Doc had more whores like Mrs. Eaton on a string, manipulatin' them. Somethin' bothered me about the hypnotist.

I left for work, tellin' Mrs. Eaton she could shower at my place and stay there if she wanted. Or she could go up to Ms. Jeffers' place. I felt a responsibility, for some reason. I told her she could cook herself breakfast. There was eggs and bacon in the fridge. I had a busy day ahead so I just had toast and coffee, leavin' the almost-full pot for Mrs. Eaton.

Fred Wilson from the funeral home was gonna drop by after lunch to get photos of Ms. Jeffers for the newspaper ads, and a thoughtful Old Mister Harper told me we'd best get some photos of Mrs. Eaton too.

"You know Lawton," he said. "We might just add ourselves another carnival ride. And as we both know, Mary Eaton is a heck of a ride. We'll easily double our money and get some good advertisin' from word of mouth from the guys who ride her. We'll do up a brochure tells 'em how to pay in at the bank and get put on a schedule. I figure we'll get Mary doin' white cock as well, and after next Wednesday just expand her calendar to the rest of the week."

I knew that was comin'. I expect that was the original plan.

"You let Mary know what's expected of her and pop down to one of them women's clothin' stores and pick up some whore outfits for the photo shoot this afternoon," he said, handin' me some money. "We got to almost see everything. Fred'll pose them right and see how best to display their private parts without actually showin' them."

I'd got advertisin' rates and worked up some words to go with the pictures. Ms. Jeffers was gonna be referred to as a roller coaster ride on account of how she bucks and moves her body, and Mrs. Eaton was gonna be referred to as a water ride on account of how wet and messy she gets. It was just a matter of Fred gettin' the film developed down at the Five and Dime, and me drivin' over to Haler City Monday to drop everything off.

I picked up some whore outfits -- short skirts, panties, lingerie, a couple bikinis that hid almost nothin'. I hoped I got the sizes right. The lady knew Mrs. Eaton, when I said who they was for.

"Our boys graduated Hollow High together last year," the clerk said. She was late 30s and quite a beauty. She was filled out good in all the right places, and gave off an aura not unlike Mrs. Eaton." Bob Junior and my Matt. They's good friends and Matt's always visitin' over at the Eatons. I fear my John lusts over that woman, just like every other man in this town. And she don't do nothin' much to hide what she got."

I nodded. I didn't bother tellin' her I'd fucked Mrs. Eaton three times in the last 24 hours and five other men had planted seed up in her too. But I told her to watch the paper for the church picnic and carnival add about Ms. Jeffers and Mrs. Eaton.

"Mr. Eaton gave Mrs. Eaton the boot yesterday. Seems she may have been unfaithful or somethin'," I said. "She moved upstairs from me, so that's why I'm doin' a favor and pickin' up these here clothes."

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem too surprised. "You don't say," she said. A dead giveaway that Mary Eaton foolin' around was common knowledge. "Well, I never. The woman does have a body and she don't mind people seein' it."

I expected the clerk, Millie Tanner, kept her John well satisfied. She had the body for pleasin' men, and the look in her eyes to go with it. In fact, I may have detected talkin' about Mrs. Eaton and foolin' around may have got her a trifle aroused. I decided to bring up the subject of Doc Egerton to see how she'd react.

"I saw Doc Egerton go up to the apartment she keeps with Ms. Jeffers," I said. "I hope everythin' is all right. Doc was up there for quite some time, and I heard a lot of noise, like someone was moanin' or somethin'. Hurt maybe."

Mrs. Tanner was breathin' just a bit more raggedy at that mention, but she didn't say anythin', just got a look on her face, so I pressed on.

"Seems like a nice man," I said. "Makin' house calls at night in this day and age. I saw Mrs. Eaton this mornin' 'fore I left for work, and she did seem about wore out. I'll take these things up to her and Ms. Jeffers. Might cheer her up some."

Mrs. Tanner seemed concerned.

"Maybe I should go check on her," she suggested. "See how she's doin'. I got my lunch comin' up in a few minutes. Maybe I could, you know, follow you over."

I agreed that was a good idea. I paid for everything and she had the scant clothes in special little boutique bags and helped me carry them out to my car. We put them on the back seat and then I made a bit of a bold suggestion.

"Say, Mrs. Tanner. Maybe you could ride over with me and I could drop you off again later on," I said. "I can get you back here afore your lunch is up."

She smiled and seemed pleased.

"Oh, that would be great, um, well I don't even know your name," she allowed.

"Lawton, mam," I said. "Just call me Lawton."

We got in my car and drove the few blocks to my apartment, fetching the little clothes bags out of the back and climbing the stairs, Mrs. Tanner in the lead and givin' me a good view of her rounded and firm backside, to the upstairs apartment where Ms. Jeffers answered the knock dressed as usual in my shirt but this time with a couple buttons done up.

She saw Mrs. Tanner first and seemed a bit confused until she seen me in behind.

"Ms. Jeffers, this here's Millie Tanner from down at the women's clothing store," I said. "She helped me pick out some clothes for you and Mrs. Eaton to try on for that photo shoot this afternoon."

Ms. Jeffers kind of curtsied and shook Mrs. Tanner's hand, stepping aside to let us in.

"Very pleased to meet you Mrs. Tanner," she said. "Lawton said Fred Wilson from the funeral home was stoppin' by soon. I didn't know Mrs. Eaton was gonna get her photo took though."

I explained that Old Mister Harper was puttin' Mrs. Eaton in as part of the church picnic and carnival ride and we'd bought some clothes for her too.

"Mrs. Tanner's gonna help you try those on, " I said. "We sort of got three outfits each, startin' with just sheer bra and panties, mini-skirt and tank top with no underclothes, and see-through sundress with no bra or panties. Plus bikinis."

Mrs. Tanner smiled as I led them into Ms. Jeffers' bedroom and Ms. Jeffers took off the shirt and stood there naked in all her amazing glory. Mrs. Tanner gasped as she beheld what could only be described as a perfect female body.

"Oh my God she's beautiful," Mrs. Tanner sighed. "I never seen anything like her. Oh my! Look at that pussy. Oh. My. God! And look, she's already wet and drippin'!"

I gave over the bags to a blushin' Ms. Jeffers, who got suddenly very shy at Mrs. Tanner's comments, and she started emptying them out on the bed. I took Mrs. Tanner back out to the kitchen.

"Ms. Jeffers is a whore," I told Mrs. Tanner. "Pastor Brown and Mr. Harper over at the bank been sellin' her pussy to make money. Black cock one night, white the next. Now Mrs. Eaton is bein' used as a whore too. Pastor Brown says they're a special treat for them Black boys and now they're gonna be used and fucked durin' the church picnic and carnival."

Mrs. Tanner's eyes gleamed and she seemed to vibrate a bit as I explained it all out. I told her all about the past week, about the Saturday trial run, how everybody fucked and cum in Mrs. Eaton the day before.