1 comments/ 42057 views/ 12 favorites Grosseputain Parish Pt. 01 By: conroy39 Author's note: This story contains belly inflation. It is set in the early 1930s. * Outside a certain town in Grosseputain Parish stood May Belle's House. Generations of the local Louisiana menfolk had known this house - under its present ownership, through the long years before that when it had been Marie Louise's House, and back before that in the days when General Butler had been forced to issue a special order prohibiting the occupying Yankee soldiers from visiting "the bawdy house of which Miss Eliza is proprietress". It had been twenty-five years since May Belle first entertained a gentleman in her red-wallpapered "lady's parlor" upstairs, and ten years since a fat, perspiring lawyer in Beau Ville had read out the will in which Marie Louise had left what she tactfully referred to as her "premises" to May Belle. May Belle herself had prospered. Her days as a sharp-tongued young whore were behind her, but as she had ripened over the years into a voluptuous and imposing matron, dressed almost every day in gowns of her favorite bright colors of red or deep wine-purple that flattered her broad hips and discreetly displayed the enormous expanse of her decolletage. She had continued working for long after nominally turning out her red lantern; May Belle preferred to refer to them (if at all) as her "assignations", but it wasn't much of a secret that her talents had lightened the loins of wealthy and prominent men from all over the Gulf Coast. There had been a scandal back in '23 when a senator's wife - angered by well-founded rumors which had passed her way - had been graceless enough to comment out loud at a ladies' tea that she had heard that Grosseputain Parish was plagued with disease owing to "women of low character" in the area, and that the local men were becoming "positively polluted". May Belle sipped her tea, smiled, and tartly commented (or so it was said) that Mrs. John J. Jarreau at least had nothing to worry about, because the Senator's seed was inside her at that very moment, and (having some familiarity with such matters) it seemed pure enough to her. Men had to be called to drag the two women apart. It was a sleepy July afternoon in Grosseputain. Mornings and early afternoon were the time to sleep, because business was slow then, and most of May Belle's girls were either dozing upstairs or trying to keep cool in the front parlor and porch. The two amazonian blondes, Helen and Ellen, were mending a tear a clumsy patron had made in one of Ellen's gowns the night before. They were often taken for twins, due to their resemblance, but they claimed no relation. It wasn't much of a secret that they preferred their own company - or, rather, generally speaking, the company of ladies - but they did not mind tending to the needs of men awed but not intimidated by their statuesque height. Sally Ann was composing a letter to a maiden aunt in Paducah, telling her all about a supposed job as a shopgirl in New Orleans. Gloria Marie was chewing gum and reading a magazine. Darla was looking for a missing spool of green thread. Molly Cheeks was trying to learn to play the piano. New to the House, redheaded Molly had acquired her nickname in an incident soon after her arrival when she had (in violation of rules) entertained an impatient gentleman on her knees in the kitchen. Two other girls had come in suddenly to wash up some dishes, and when Molly looked up, wide-eyed in embarrassed surprise, her client's enormous member was visibly puffing out one cheek like that of a squirrel. May Belle was sitting at an old roll-top desk in the parlor balancing on the books, when June sang out lazily from the porch that a young man was coming up the walk. "Anyone we know?" asked May Belle, wiping off her pen. "I think it is that Roy Owens," called back June. A straw-haired young man, dressed in a rather battered linen suit, was making his way slowly up the path from the front gate. It was hardly unusual for men to approach the bordello furtively or hesitantly, but Roy was glancing behind him and walking with a peculiar bow-legged gait, like a cowboy returned from a long drive. He was visibly sweating, though this last was not surprising in the sultry Louisiana summer. "Why, it is Roy," said May Belle, sweeping gracefully out onto the porch. "Well, do come in, young man." She smiled and held open the screen door, but the distracted Roy returned only a weak smile and trod slowly and gingerly up the steps. May Belle glanced at June, who shrugged slightly. "Now how is your father?" asked the madam graciously, taking Roy's hat. All the girls in the parlor looked up as they came in. By a nearly imperceptible system of exchanged glances and little nods, they worked out amongst themselves who were "available"; these last turned welcoming smiles on the uncomfortable young man. "It does seem like so very long ago that last I saw Robert." May Belle pursed her lips in a smile. "We used to be rather close," she said lightly. "Oh, now do have a seat. It is such a hot day today." Roy swallowed and shook his head. "Um, no thank you, ma'am, I would prefer to stand at the present." He leaned against a chair, swallowed again, and then seemed to rouse himself somewhat from his distraction. "My father is well, thank you, Miss May Belle." The young man looked around the room at her demurely smiling girls, and swallowed again, glancing away as though surveying the prospects caused him pain. If May Belle noticed his discomfort, she said nothing, though she allowed a very tiny pause before saying, "Well, now, Roy, is there any... particular business for which you dropped by today?" Roy Owens started to speak, stammered once, then blurted, "Any of your girls who are available right now, Miss May Belle. I mean, as soon as possible." His face was rapidly coloring a deep shade of crimson, sharply framed against his linen suit, and he shifted position uncomfortably. The girls, who had learned (or had been, with some pains, taught) to be polite, suppressed titters at his embarrassed impatience. Roy did not meet May Belle's gaze. "Well, Roy," said May Belle tactfully, "I can certainly understand if you are pressed for time owing to... other business engagements." Her practiced eye swept the room, calculating what her patron would best prefer, then: "Darla, if you wouldn't mind escorting Mr. Owens here to your parlor; he would like to have a word with you." The other girls went discreetly back to what they were doing. Darla, a young, slender brunette little more than twenty, rose gracefully with a bright Southern smile, putting down her embroidery. "Why, certainly, Miss May Belle. Mr. Owens?" She stepped over to a certain spot between Roy and the curving staircase, and offered her arm. Roy swallowed again and stepped forwards with indelicate eagerness, clumsily maneuvering Darla up the stairs. With his back turned to her, May Belle allowed her eyebrows to rise in surprise. Roy's wide sideways steps seemed those of a man either plagued with a war wound or a pulled muscle. As Darla and Roy disappeared upstairs, May Belle went back to her work and the parlor grew quiet again. Molly Cheeks went upstairs to wash her stockings. June came in to make some tea. About ten minutes passed. But just as Gloria Marie was asking if anyone knew a six-letter word for a heavy club, the sleepy bordello atmosphere was shattered by a sudden scream. "Mercy sakes alive!" shrieked a woman's voice from upstairs, loud enough to set the gaudy chandelier ornaments jingling. A squeak of fear ran through the parlor at the sudden commotion. May Belle, who had dealt with trouble many times before, leapt to her feet. Reaching atop the old china cupboard for her Remington 11, she snapped her fingers at Helen and Ellen. "Come on, you two," she hissed, checking the magazine of the shotgun. "Ain't no one gonna hurt my girls." May Belle fairly ran up the stairs, her plump breasts jostling in their low-cut bodice, and stormed down the brightly-wallpapered hallway, the two blonde amazons following at her heels. Already a couple other girls, interrupted in bathing or sleeping, were peeking their heads out to see what was going on, but at the sight of the fuming (and armed) May Belle coming, they closed their doors again. Molly Cheeks, her hands still wet from her laundry, had reached the door to Darla's room first, and she opened it a crack to peek. But before May Belle and her girls could get there too, Molly let out her own shriek and almost fainted dead away. "What in the hell's going on in - " growled May Belle, reaching the door at last and pushing it open with the barrel of the shotgun. Then the madam nearly dropped her gun. Darla was sprawled naked on the bed, rolled over onto her side and whimpering slightly, her eyes wide with shock. Her normally taut and trim belly was enormously swollen out -- bloated up almost to bursting, like she was nine months pregnant and more. Darla's belly button had popped out from the pressure, and her skin was taut and shiny. Both arms were wrapped around the sides of the huge globe, her fingertips barely meeting at the middle, and Darla was holding on tight as if trying to restrain it from growing any larger. "May Belle," she gasped at the astonished madam, then stammered like she was too stunned to talk. Roy Owens was sitting Indian-style at the other end of the bed, looking miserable and embarrassed. Grosseputain Parish Pt. 02 "Darla!" gasped May Belle, staring at the swollen-bellied young whore. The barrel of the shotgun dipped. "What -- what happened to you, child?" Molly, Helen, and Ellen, standing in the doorway, were too stunned to say anything. Other girls began to crowd in behind them for a peek, and the hallway quickly filled with a hubbub of gasps. "May Belle, he... I dunno... he spunked me real hard and... and it kept comin' and... and then all of a sudden..." Darla looked on the verge of swooning. Glassy-eyed, she began to slump slowly sideways, still clutching her hugely inflated belly. The madam narrowed her eyes and leveled her gun. "Roy Owen, what in the hell did you do to my Darla? Talk, or so help me, I will blow --" Roy turned pale. "I'm sorry, May Belle," he protested wretchedly, finding his voice. "I didn't know it would... I didn't mean to... my stuff just... it kept going is all, and then there was so much it swelled Darla all up..." He looked as though he wished the earth would swallow him up, and tugged ineffectually at the sheets, trying to cover himself. May Belle stared coldly at the naked, miserable young man for a moment, then relented and shouldered the shotgun. "You hurt, Darla? Did he hurt you, child?" The young whore shook her head, swallowing several times, still gripping her bloated globe tightly. "It don't hurt much, May Belle, I'm just... I can't believe... I feel all filled up and stretched out." She tried shifting her position on the bed, and a liquid ripple wobbled through her swollen midsection. "I don't think I can move, May Belle. I got too much of his cum in me and I'll fall down." Tears brimmed in her eyes. "What am I gonna do? I'm all fat now. Am I pregnant?" "Hush up, Darla," said May Belle, pursing her lips and looking back and forth between Darla and Roy. The whispered conversations in the hallway grew louder. "If Roy here put all that stuff in you I reckon we can get it back out again." Darla sniffled and tried to reach for a corner of the quilt to dab at her eyes, but the movement caused her to groan suddenly and lean over her sloshing belly. "Helen, Ellen, you help out Darla." The two amazonian blondes moved past May Belle into the room, and knelt down to begin gently lifting Darla to her feet. The madam spoke more softly. "Darla, honey, go with them now. I know you usually ain't that kind, but you're gonna need some help in getting yourself squeezed out. Helen, I know you know what to do to get a girl's insides all tremblin'. I expect that'll do it." Helen gave a wicked little smile, but said nothing. She and her sister each supported Darla by her elbows, as the young whore staggered slowly forwards, cradling her gravid midsection in her arms. Every shuffling step sent her cream-swollen belly sloshing heavily up and down. The other bordello girls, wide-eyed, moved aside to make room for them. "Now, then, as for you, young man," said May Belle, eyeing the blushing Roy, "I'd say you have a story to tell." She glanced over her shoulder suddenly, and the other bordello girls tried to look like they had just happened to have been passing by that moment in the hallway. "Molly," said the madam, "Close the door now and let us talk in peace." Molly obliged, shooing away the remaining gawkers and closing the door behind her with a firm click. "That ain't natural," said May Belle, leaning the shotgun against the bureau and crossing her arms. "What you did to my Darla? Oh, don't bother covering up, young man," she added, amused, as Roy kept trying to cover himself with the tangled sheets. "Your daddy didn't give you nothin' I ain't seen before." Roy folded his hands bashfully in his lap. "I'm sorry about your girl, May Belle," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to hurt her, honest. I feel terrible about it and all." "I believe you, Roy," said May Belle tartly, "but I also believe I asked you for your story." Roy looked down at his hands. "Well, um, May Belle, I went into town and saw this, uh, voodoo woman. I heard about her from one of the workmen, who said that she'd helped out his cousin some..." May Belle raised a painted eyebrow. "Helped out? Let me guess. You heard she could make your man parts big as a stallion or something? Heavens, you men and your... Ain't nobody should mess with that voodoo, Roy Owens." Roy nodded reluctantly. "Yes'm." "Well?" said May Belle. "Go on, then." Roy swallowed and cleared his throat a little. "Um, well, so I saw this old Creole witch woman, and paid her a double sawbuck. And she started doing her spell, and mixin' up things in a big clay pot, and chanting and doin' all kinds of other things. She had me stripped naked and standing in a circle, and I was feelin' a little embarrassed, you know, and nervous. So she had finished what she was doing, I guess, made this kind of oil and was getting it all over her fingers and sayin' her spell." He blushed. "And?" said May Belle, narrowing her eyes. "Well, then I did a foolish thing," said Roy, not meeting May Belle's gaze. "I got to complainin' and told her that I was getting cold standing there in her kitchen with my thing hangin' out and that I was startin' to think she was making the whole business up. I guess I was nervous and was tryin' to feel brave... anyhow she got mad as the blazes and swore a whole lot and came at me with her fingernails." He glanced at May Belle. "Well, I was scared, May Belle, that she was gonna, you know, tear it off or somethin'! So I flinched and turned around and before I could do anything else she, um," Roy blushed. "Finish your story, Roy Owen," said the madam, with a stern expression. "The voodoo woman managed to stab me with her finger in the backside. I don't mean like that she... what I mean is, you know, clear up my cornhole. Well, I let out a howl, and she laughed and laughed, and then she threw my clothes at me and cursed some more. It hurt like hell -- I did mention her fingernails, I believe, May Belle-- and I just wanted the hell out of there then so I ran out into the street half-naked and went into an alley and got dressed all the way and went home. That's all." May Belle shook her head. "You shouldn't ever mess around with voodoo, Roy. Those Creole women have nasty tempers, and some of them are the real thing... I guess you managed to find yourself one, huh?" "I don't understand it," said Roy, trying to pull the quilt up around him again. "Ever since then -- it's been three days ago now -- I've been having to... you know, May Belle. A lot. And there's just too much of it when I shoot off. Buckets, almost. It ain't natural! What am I gonna do?" "It could only have been her voodoo spell," said May Belle, shaking her head again. "You Owens never did have any brains. You got a little lump up your backside, Roy, that makes your juice for you. Sounds like your lady friend put her hex on that instead of on your manhood. Suppose she thought that was a pretty good joke." "She weren't my lady friend," objected Roy. "Figure of speech," said May Belle, rising gracefully to her feet. "What am I gonna do?" wailed Roy again. "I get so backed up now I can't hardly see straight. Can't spend all day pulling my pud. Hell, right now I'm already --" He broke off and flushed with embarrassment. "I can't say I'm too happy about this, Roy," said May Belle after a pause. She reached up and pulled the pin out of her auburn hair, shaking it loose. "What you do with some voodoo woman in town is your own business, but you had no right to spring this on Darla unsuspecting." "I'm sorry, May Belle," said Roy with a regretful sigh. "I shot off a whole lot before I came down here, and I just thought that maybe with a girl I could be set for a while and think straight and figure this out... I didn't mean for it to get like that, and..." He broke off. "May Belle?" A look of determination on her face, the mature madam had begun unbuttoning her bodice. As each came free the restraint on her massive breasts loosened, until the plump, pale milkflesh began to emerge to view. "I said I ain't happy about this, but I owe your daddy a favor," said May Belle, removing her blouse. Underneath, her voluptuous curves were restrained by a tight white bodice; out of this her magnificent bosom rose like soft dough. "Let's get your lil' bell rung so you'll be taken care of for a while. You're right that a man can't think worth a lick when he's full of cum; but with your balls empty, we can get to the bottom of this business." Roy Owens swallowed, staring at the raunchy matron matter-of-factly disrobing before him. "Well, I, uh... sure..." He swallowed again. "But, May Belle, you saw what happened to Darla..." May Belle laughed, unzipping her skirt. "Roy Owens, I've been drainin' pricks since before you were born. Hell, I once pulled a train of half the Louisiana Senate. Don't you worry about me none. This old ass of mine knows how to handle anything." Roy stared mesmerized at the massive globes of the madam's backside which now bulged enticingly from her slip like two huge pale peaches. He just nodded, his cock swelling rapidly to a painful hardness. Unconsciously, he winced and cradled a hand gently under his throbbing sack. "Molly Cheeks!" called May Belle, slowly unlacing her corset with neat, professional flicks. Her huge, pillowy breasts seemed to grow even larger when freed from their confinement, swelling upwards even further. "Molly, I know you're listening at the keyhole. Come on in here and take care of Mr. Owens for a moment while I get ready." Guiltily, the redhead opened the door and slipped into the room. "Use your special talent for a little bit," said May Belle softly. "I'll just be a moment." Grosseputain Parish Pt. 03 Roy Owens glanced up at Molly as she came into the bordello room, reflexively pulling the corner of a bedsheet over himself. His face was a mixture of embarrassment and lust well familiar to the young whore, but his prick tented the sheet upward in an almost comical bulge. Molly smiled, looking demurely at the floor, as May Belle swept out of the room and shut the door. "How do you do, Miss Molly?" Roy said hesitantly, as the girl came towards the bed. He swallowed. Just as Molly began to speak, he suddenly blurted, "I'm awful sorry about what happened to -- what I did to Miss Darla -- I mean, I sure wouldn't want to hurt any... um..." Molly brushed a wavy strand of titian hair behind her ear, and settled down gracefully on the bed beside Roy. Her linen skirt rustled as it slowly crumpled. "I expect she'll be all right. Though," she added impishly, "your performance certainly did give everyone a start." Roy did not move, so, with a gentle touch, Molly firmly took his hand in her slender fingers and lifted it away from the bulge in the sheet. Roy, who was looking miserably at the floor, jumped, then blinked. "I just... I do hope she will, um, recover quickly," he stammered. Molly's freckles seemed to darken as she gave a wry smile. "Darla's in good hands. Helen and Ellen are taking care of her." The young whore deftly tugged aside the sheet, exposing Roy's throbbing length. The thick shaft, seemingly unsatisfied with its first conquest, was pulsing insistently with each heartbeat. Molly pressed her finger teasingly against the very tip, rolling it around in a slow circle. Roy started to say something, but Molly shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. Matter-of-factly, the girl leaned over and slurped his flaring cockhead into her mouth. Roy sat up straight, then gave a sigh of relaxation, slowly leaning back against his elbows on the bed. "That's real nice, Miss Molly," Roy breathed. Molly drew back partway with a loud slurp, then slowly pressed her face down into his lap. Her nostrils flared with tiny grunts as her clinging throat embraced his aching member. Roy made no sound, simply watching her in amazement, as she took his whole length, pressing her nose finally against his thigh. The redheaded whore closed her eyes, then swallowed repeatedly, her gullet milking him hungrily. After a moment, she finally drew back, revealing his cock like magic and letting it tumble free. She looked up at Roy and grinned at his stunned expression. "Goddamn," muttered Roy, "I never seen a girl do that before." Molly smirked, wrapping her fingers slowly around his now-slick shaft and pumping gently up and down. "Now you warn me before anything happens, Roy," she said with mock seriousness. "I don't mind a man's spend, but I sure don't want to end up with a big ol' belly too." Roy looked so abashed that Molly gave his cock a firm squeeze and hastily changed the subject. "I heard your story to May Belle. Did you really go and see an old voodoo woman?" "Well, she weren't that old, I guess. Maybe forty." Pumping her fist slowly up and down Roy's throbbing cock, the whore contemplated it with a professional gaze. "Don't see why you would need a magic spell to make yourself any bigger, hon. You've got plenty enough as it is." She leaned forward and wriggled her tongue gently down his length. Roy gave a noncommittal grunt and shifted slightly on the bed. After a moment, he said, "Well, I didn't actually tell May Belle what I went there for. Makin' my, uh, pecker bigger was just her guess, and I didn't correct her." He looked sheepish. "Well, what then?" said Molly, running her thumb gently back and forth under the cockhead. The straining length jumped, and she smiled. "I been -- that is, I was havin' a problem with, you know, bein' able to manage." In response to Molly's quizzical look, Roy added, "Sometimes I wouldn't, you know, last nearly long enough nor be as hard as I'd like." Color rose to his cheeks. "She was gonna make it so I could, you know, be with a woman as many times as I like. I didn't really see the point in telling May Belle all about that." He paused uncomfortably, and Molly gave his cock a sympathetic squeeze. "I didn't quite tell the truth about another part, too -- the voodoo woman didn't stab me, exactly." Roy stammered. "It was part of the spell, her puttin' her finger, uh, inside me." He looked evasively at the ceiling. "It just made me, you know, real uncomfortable. And after that I wouldn't go through with the rest of the magic and that's why she got mad and threw me out." "Looks like it worked, though," Molly said cheerfully, giving Roy's straining cock a gentle tug. She laughed at his discomfiture, sticking out her tongue and running it slowly up and down the tense, straining vein. "Ain't ten minutes since you turned poor Darla into a jizz balloon, and now he's lookin' hungry again." Molly parted her lips seductively, blew him a kiss, then suddenly sucked his full length deep into her throat in one smooth gulp. Roy moaned slightly, closing his eyes and putting a hand on Molly's soft shoulder. After a moment, he said hesitantly, "Well, I guess maybe it did work, kind of, but I sure don't --" From the next room there suddenly came a muffled cry. The wailing voice sank down to a long moan, and rose suddenly to another wild, feminine shriek. Roy sat up so sharply that he stabbed Molly in the throat with his cock. The redhead's eyes bulged wide and she gave a choking snort. "That's Darla," cried Roy in anguish. "She's dying!" Molly yanked her head back from Roy's lap, coughing violently. Fingering her throat gingerly between finger and thumb, she gave the young man a reproachful look. "She ain't dyin', Roy," said Molly tartly, rolling her eyes. Before Roy could respond, the door clicked quietly open, and May Belle reappeared in the doorway. She was clad in a fluffy white cotton robe, which left only her neck and ankles bare, and her long, auburn hair, freed from its tight pins, fell halfway down her back. May Belle appraised Roy's twitching cock with a critical eye. "Been taking care of him, Molly?" she asked crisply. Molly nodded, rising from the bed and smoothing down her skirt. "He's all yours, May Belle," she said archly, rubbing her throat again. "Uh, it was a pleasure, Miss Molly," said Roy politely. The girl glanced back from the doorway, then, relenting, turned a graceful smile on him. "You're welcome, Roy. Stay away from any more magic though, y'hear?" Molly slipped into the hall, closing the door discreetly. "Well," said May Belle, suddenly letting the robe drop to the floor. "Let's get this taken care of." Roy gaped at the voluptuous form suddenly revealed. Her days as a young and saucy whore were long behind her, but the years had ripened May Belle kindly, giving her ample curves and a full, sensuous face. A huge bust stood out proudly before her, the double handfuls pillowing gently under their weight against her soft, pale belly. The madam's great hips, broad and firm as if developed by a strict regimen of countless exercises in bed, swayed gently as May Belle stepped lightly past Roy. With an easy, confident motion, she crawled forward on the bed, then glanced back and wriggled her plump backside a little at Roy. "Go on, then, young man. Get to it." "Ma'am?" asked Roy stupidly. His cock was achingly rigid. "I ain't inviting you to afternoon tea, Roy." May Belle reached back with a manicured hand and slowly peeled aside one overstuffed cheek. Her pursed pink-brown star glistened unmistakeably in the electric light. "Get that thing up my backside and let's get you taken care of." Roy looked stunned. "I ain't..." he stammered. "I mean, I never been with a woman in -- well, that way before, May Belle." He pulled himself up onto the bed in a kneeling pose. Although his face was flushed with embarrassment and bewilderment, his heavily swaying cock still strained and throbbed from Molly's interrupted attentions. May Belle glanced back at Roy over her shoulder, somehow still a model of grace and poise despite her lewd pose on her hands and knees. "Fastest way to get you off, Roy Owens. Now get to it." The madam shook her ass again for emphasis, sending her plump cheeks jiggling. "This ain't a social occasion," she added. "I've got other business today." May Belle turned back around, looking at the wall with a firm, detached expression. She arched her back slightly. Roy scooted awkwardly forward on his knees towards her. He hefted his cock in one hand, then grunted. "It feels so big," he murmured. "Money well spent," said May Belle wryly. "No, I mean..." muttered Roy distractedly. "It's like... it feels like it's giant, an' is so hard it hurts, an' I can't think about anything else but what it wants." He swallowed, his brow furrowing, and gave it a firm squeeze. "I do believe I have encountered men suffering from that condition before," observed May Belle wryly, shifting her hands to a more comfortable position. Roy did not seem to hear her. "I gotta come bad again," he said under his breath, grimacing. Leaning forward, he pressed his spongy cockhead against May Belle's ass. Her tight hole kissed him once, then yielded. May Belle made no sound, but Roy groaned as he sank his full length into her slippery passage. He began thrusting and humping at her right away. The room echoed with meaty slaps as his clumsy, desperate stabs crashed again and again into the madam's large, jiggling cheeks. If May Belle was uncomfortable, she did not show it, presenting her ass stoically to Roy's awkward rutting. Roy took hold of May Belle's hips, frantically driving his hugely swollen cock up into her steaming depths. He was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. After a few minutes, beginning to grow frustrated, Roy slowed down, spearing May Belle with hard, forceful thrusts, then speeding up again to frantic jabs. His trembling grip grew strong enough drive his nails into May Belle's flesh, and she finally gave an annoyed hiss. "Roy, I ain't gettin' paid for this, but I ain't letting you stab my shitter as a personal favor neither," snapped May Belle, shifting her knees on the bedsheets. "Now hurry the hell up." "I just can't get there," grunted Roy, a pained, frustrated note in his voice. "I really gotta... real bad, May Belle! I just... I keep gettin' so close and..." He grunted, agonized, humping frantically at the madam's ass. "Fuck, it's startin' to hurt again!" Roy grimaced and bit his lip desperately. "I can't come!" After attaining a certain age, but before her retirement from the profession, May Belle had sometimes been called upon to perform a very patient and gentle service for young men in the parish not yet confident in their dealings with the fairer sex. Roy's voice now held an anxious note familiar to her ears. "Now just calm down, Roy," breathed the madam in a more sympathetic tone. "I do believe you are getting yourself all worked up and nervous." May Belle rolled her broad hips in a gentle, almost hypnotic fashion, then slowly leaned down on her elbows. She splayed her plump cheeks apart like an opening flower, spreading herself fully to Roy's gaze. "Just relax, sugar pie," May Belle soothed. "You're just too tense, is all. You go ahead and shoot your stuff when you're good and ready, all right?" Roy loosened his grip on May Belle's waist, slowing down his frantically stabbing thrusts. "That's it, honeycomb," said May Belle gently. "I know you've got a big ol' load in there. Now you just relax and let Miss May Belle have it, you hear?" The madam inspected her fingernails, wriggling her curvaceous rear again. "I'll take good care of the awful, awful need in them heavy things." Roy pumped his swollen, aching cock slowly in and out of May Belle's tightly squeezing asshole. "That's a lot better, May Belle," he groaned. "Ain't gonna be long now." "Course not, sugar," said May Belle, looking over her shoulder at him with a sweet smile. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her steaming depths began clenching and squeezing at Roy's cock, raising a surprised grunt. "A young man can't be all full of cream for too long. It's just got to come out." She expertly milked at his trembling cock, massaging it with her tightly clinging passage. "Now you go on and shoot that stuff up into Miss May Belle." She tensed for a moment, then performed a quick, neat, roll of her hips and thrust her ass back against him. Roy gave a strangled, incoherent grunt, his body trembling. "Let May Belle have it, honey," she breathed. Suddenly Roy cried out as a spasm tore through his body. Thick seed began to pour into the madam's belly, a firm, spurting stream. "That's it, sugar pie," encouraged May Belle, pushing her ripe ass firmly onto his cock. "Pump that out. Get your relief in Miss May Belle." Roy shuddered, then shuddered again. Instead of slowing down, the torrent of spunk pouring from his flaring cockhead grew faster and harder, from thick spurts into stabbing, splashing gushes. Roy's eyes were wide open and staring, and his lips drew tightly back against his teeth. He tried to say something, but it came out as a choked breath. May Belle arched her back sharply with curt gasp of surprise. Pulses and spurts forced themselves through Roy's cock like bloated beads of fire, bursting into her ass depths, filling her with his inhuman need. As he clutched her waist, the room reeling, Roy convulsed uncontrollably, his whole body now a bellows pumping thick, boiling jism into May Belle's body. Her bowels gurgled and gulped, choking on a flood of seed that would not stop. She gasped again and shook as Roy forced each thick rope of cream inside her to join the steaming ocean of spunk that strained at her belly, threatening to bloat her out with its urgent pressure. The young man shuddered in ecstasy, or agony, once more. His joints popped with the force of a final spasm that wracked his body, forcing a last, single spurt of jism deep inside May Belle's cum-packed belly. Then without a word he crumpled and lay still on the bed, panting raggedly. Slowly, May Belle backed towards the end of the bed. She stood up, very gingerly, one hand pressed against her belly, her eyes squeezed almost shut with concentration. Only a faint bulge in her soft belly hinted at the enormous volume of cum Roy had pumped into her, but her midsection was tense with straining muscles. "Well," murmured May Belle in a strained voice, biting her lower lip firmly, "Looks like you are taken care of, young man." She glanced down at the robe on the floor, then pressed her hand more firmly against her middle and shook her head. "If you will excuse me," she breathed hoarsely. With a stiff grace, May Belle walked very slowly to the door, and, heedless of her nudity, opened it and stepped into the hall. Roy, panting slowly, made no response. --- --- --- --- --- --- --- Gloria Marie came racing up the creaking wooden steps, and almost collided with May Belle as she emerged gracefully from the water closet, smoothing down her gown. True to form, the madam appeared perfectly poised and put together, and she showed no sign of her recent encounter with Roy. May Belle bit back a sharp comment, as surprise and alarm was evident on Gloria's face. "Goodness, child, whatever is it?" "May Belle," stammered Gloria Marie, then suddenly dropped her voice to a whisper, "May Belle, Sheriff Lagarde is downstairs! He's asking if anyone's seen Roy Owens! Says they found a body in town, a voodoo woman who was missing for a few days. Near cut to pieces, he says, and somebody saw Roy talking to her before the last anyone saw her, and --" May Belle frowned, and gestured, cutting off the girl's breathless account. She thought for a moment. Then, "Why's he here?" "Sheriff says somebody thought they seen him headed this way, and Shedrick's farm down the road said there's a customer out here now." May Belle was silent for a moment. "Helen and Ellen are still occupied with Darla," noted May Belle finally, "and Bo Lagarde has seen you already. All right. Go tell June and Sally Anne to put on those gypsy girl costumes. Hurry up, now." Gloria Marie looked confused. "But, May Belle, we don't wear those for Sheriff --" "Do as I say!" hissed May Belle curtly. "Go on, girl!" Without another word, Gloria Marie scampered off. --- --- --- --- --- --- --- A black Studebaker sedan painted with "GROSSPUTAINE PARISH SHERIFF" was parked outside at the edge of the porch. Sheriff Bo Lagarde was an imposing mountain of a man, tanned a deep ruddy red in the summer sun. He leaned patiently against the mantlepiece, scratching at his bristly black flat-top hair and looking coolly around the parlor. The Sheriff had dismissed Molly's delicate inquiry into any other, more pleasant, motive for his visit with a calm good humor, but one hand rested upon the butt of his pistol. The other hand held his hat, which he tapped slowly against his thigh. There were grim stories about his service in the Philippines war long ago when he was a young man, but everyone in the Parish knew that he was friendly enough if you kept on his good side. Or at least knew well enough to keep out of the way. The mantle clock slowly ticked away the afternoon. There came a sudden clatter of footsteps on wooden stairs behind the wall, and the Sheriff turned from studying the room to look. A moment later a small, concealed door swung out of the carved panelling. Two young ladies, dressed in gauzy gray and purple costumes, piled hastily out into the room, skirts swirling and tiny bells softly jingling. They skidded to a halt, wide-eyed, before the Sheriff. "Good afternoon, ladies," said Lagarde, with grave courtesy. He looked them slowly up and down, tapping his hat solemnly against his leg. "It's Miss June and Miss Sally Anne, isn't it?" "Yes, Sheriff," stammered June, glancing at Sally Anne. Sheriff Lagarde regarded them for a moment more in silence. Then he said, "I do not like to pry, ladies, but might it be that there is a customer in the house this afternoon?" A thin smile creased the weathered skin of his face, and he removed his hand from the butt of his service revolver. The girls exchanged nervous glances, then nodded. "Yes, sir." "And would you happen to know his name?" The Sheriff's voice hinted at a faint, grim amusement. "Well, sir," mumbled June, looking at the floor. "It's a gentleman who..." The young whore swallowed and trailed off, shifting uncomfortably, Her gaze drifted to the mantle clock, then to the fireplace. "We ain't supposed to say," she added lamely. Sally Anne trembled almost imperceptibly, sending her bells gently swaying. "May Belle says we're supposed to be discreet," she squeaked. Sheriff Lagarde laughed quietly, glancing at his wristwatch. "I won't detain you ladies." Noting the time, he grunted and put on his hat. "In my experience, and I expect in yours, Judge Rouquette can get impatient if he is kept waiting." The girls smiled nervously. Lagarde's black uniform boots tread loudly on the wooden floor as the lawman turned and went to the door. "Good afternoon to you both. Give my regards to May Belle." The old screen door clunked shut, and the porch creaked under his weight. An automobile engine grumbled powerfully to life, and he was gone. Sally Anne collapsed with a sigh onto the chaise lounge and fanned herself. June glanced at her, then turned to look at the staircase. "That all right, May Belle?" she asked flatly. "You did just fine, June," said May Belle, descending two steps from her vantage just out of sight. "Now you girls get back into your regular clothes before any other visitors drop by." She added, under her breath, "Think I'll have myself a little word with Roy." Gloria Marie was standing in the upstairs hallway, twisting the material of her floral cotton dress nervously between her fingers. "Is Sheriff Lagarde gone?" she asked anxiously. Grosseputain Parish Pt. 03 "Yes," said May Belle darkly, "an' that Roy Owens and his magic nine-pound balls is going to be gone too in a moment unless he comes up with some good answers." "I can't believe he could ever kill anybody," said Gloria Marie breathlessly, jogging to catch up with the madam as she stormed past down the hall. "Specially not in a... well, you know, a way like that. Cutting up a woman and all. He just don't seem that kind!" "I don't think he did," admitted May Belle, "but I still ain't pleased that my house is mixed up in --" Reaching the door at the end of the hall, she rapped on it sternly with her knuckles, then shoved it open. "Roy Owens, you had better start doing..." May Belle's voice trailed off. Gloria Marie gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. Roy lay sprawled on the bed, unconscious. One leg hung limply to the floor, and his arms were askew, awkwardly gripping pillows. His chest rose and fell steadily. But Roy's wide and staring eyes had turned a blank, opaque silver. "Now, I was afraid of this," muttered May Belle.