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My Sister's Birthday {Riv Yavtry} (Mg cons preg lact inc sacrilege)
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I love my big sister Martha. Being nearly a decade older than me,
when I was growing up she was able to advise me both from the
viewpoint of a sister and a second mother about things I wouldn't
have dreamt of discussing with my actual mother. When puberty kicked
in she gave me invaluable insights about girls, what they liked and
disliked and how to behave around them, giving me a headstart over my
peers in the romance stakes. Little did I know at the time how she
was putting her own advice into practice.

When Martha's big four-oh loomed, she invited me to the celebration
party she was organising with her partner, Moira, a two-day affair
covering her actual birthday on the Saturday and continuing non-stop
through Sunday. Even though in part it was Martha's advice which
helped me successfully romance my wife Mary, they had taken an
instant dislike to each other from the first time they met. Despite
the passing of time, my wedding to Mary and the birth of our twin son
and daughter, the two were barely able to utter a syllable to each
other. Needless to say the birthday invitation didn't include Mary.

Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, but nothing was going to keep me
from Martha's birthday celebrations. When I told Mary I was going we
had a hell of a barney about it, then I got the silent treatment and
I moved into the guest room. The kids just rolled their eyes at the
pig-headedness of their parents; they'd seen it all before. We're
both strong-willed and arguments are common, but thankfully making-up
afterwards usually more than compensates.

Normally I'd have flown out but I decided to take a few days off
work and drive cross-country to my sister's place, giving Mary and me
a few days to calm down. Since Mary needed our car to ferry the kids
around, I hired a rental, planning to set off Thursday morning, spend
the night at a motel and reach my sister's late Friday afternoon.

To my surprise I was woken Wednesday night by Mary climbing into bed
with me, and we had our most vigorous bout of lovemaking for a long
time. I came twice and Mary did even better! Cue more eye-rolling
from the kids the next morning; we'd obviously made quite a din
during our passion.

So it was with a spring in my step that I set off the next morning,
with Mary and the kids giving me hugs and kisses, then waving me off
with exhortations to drive safely and have a good time. It meant a
lot that I'd left on good terms with my wife.

Thursday's journey was uneventful and on schedule. I had booked the
motel in advance on the recommendation of a work colleague and it was
pleasant and adequate rather than anything special. There were a
couple of hookers working the place with the tacit approval of the
owners and I realised why my work colleague liked it so much.
Although they were quite passable, I had never cheated on Mary and I
wasn't about to start now, especially after the send-off she had
given me the night before.

I had a simple meal in the motel restaurant then retired to my room
to read and watch the news. That's when I got the first inkling that
a severe storm was approaching The local forecaster predicted strong
winds and torrential rain the next day and urged people to stay at
home unless their journeys were absolutely necessary. I have to admit
I didn't take it too seriously, after all we were a long way from the
hurricane belt and I planned on sticking to the main highways.

I rang home just before the kids' bedtime to wish them goodnight and
reassure them that I loved them. Then I talked to Mary for a while,
until she was forced to hang up because the kids were taking
advantage of her distraction to delay their bedtime. Phone sex isn't
an option when the kids are listening in.

Next morning it was so gloomy it was difficult to tell it was
daytime. The wind was gusting, causing cans and bottles to rattle
across the motel car park, but it didn't seem strong enough to cause
undue concern. It was raining, but again not excessively. I had
breakfast at the motel then came to a decision. I wasn't going to
turn back and I didn't want to stay in the motel so I was going to
press on. The weather put a completely different complexion on my
mood to the elation I had felt when setting out the previous morning.

At first the going was okay, although I was having to drive a bit
slower than planned because the gusts of wind sometimes caught the
rain in such a way as to make the visibility poor. I tuned into a
local news channel on the car radio to listen for traffic news. Then,
after a couple of hours, came a bulletin that forced a crucial change
of plan. The main highway I had intended to turn onto after lunch was
blocked, and there was no estimate for it to be re-opened. I knew
there was a rest stop some thirty miles ahead so I resolved to pull
in there and re-plan my route. Soon I hit heavy traffic, already
built up as a consequence of the blocked highway, and over an hour
had passed by the time I crawled into the rest stop.  

I decided on an early lunch while I studied my map. The meal was
pretty awful but I barely noticed as I tried to figure out an
alternative route to my sister's. I noticed a minor road branching
off the current highway about twenty miles ahead which intersected
the blocked highway, hopefully past the blockage. It would save quite
a bit on distance, shaving off a corner, but I had no idea what
driving conditions would be like along it. There didn't seem to be
any towns along the road, so I decided to top-up the tank at the rest
stop as a precaution.

Before I set off again I rang my sister on my cell phone and warned
her I was likely to be late because of the weather. She said that was
fine, get there when I could, and drive carefully. When I set off
again it was worse. The wind buffeted the car and the rain was now
consistently heavy. Because of the tailback from the blockage it was
slow crawl to the turnoff, taking an hour and a half. It was now well
into the afternoon.

To my surprise I was the only person taking the turnoff. The minor
road turned out to be relatively straight and in good repair,
although progress was slow because the weather was making visibility
so poor. I congratulated myself on making the right decision, and
also for filling up at the rest stop, because I didn't see a single
human habitation.

Midway through the afternoon I felt myself getting drowsy;
concentrating on driving in such abominable conditions was hard work.
I found a safe place to stop, pulled over and took a nap. Better late
than dead.

When I woke up, it was pitch dark. I looked at my watch - it was
late afternoon. I had nodded off for two hours despite the buffeting
wind rocking the car and the torrential rain against the metal roof
sounding like machine gun fire. I had hoped to be at my sister's
round about now. I started the motor and set off again, the
headlights piercing enough of the gloom to be able to see about
thirty yards ahead.

For about half an hour I made quite decent progress considering,
although I had little idea how close I was to the main highway I was
hoping to intercept. Then suddenly, from out of the gloom, a giant
stag leapt out in front of me. I had no chance to avoid it and hit it
full force. I could see the front of the car buckle with the impact
as it came to almost a dead stop. I was grateful I had been wearing
my seatbelt, although I wasn't quite so happy that the airbag went
off and struck me in the face.

When I got my wits back I forced the airbag out of the way and took
stock. The engine had cut out on impact but the headlights were still
working. I tried to restart the engine but it was stone dead. The
stag was lying in the road in front of the car. 

Despite the atrocious weather conditions I got out to take a look.
The stag seemed to twitch a couple of times then lay still. It was
dead, there was nothing I could do for it. There was no way I was
going to get the car bonnet open even if the conditions were clement
enough for me to investigate the damage. Soaked already despite being
out of the car barely a couple of minutes, I got back in and tried
again to restart the engine; it was as dead as a dodo.

I retrieved my cell phone and tried to dial for help, but there was
no signal. I didn't fancy trying to walk anywhere in this weather so
I decided to stay in the car. Fortunately I had brought a change of
clothes for the weekend so I changed into them out of my wet things.
I didn't know how long the car battery would last but I hadn't seen
any other traffic on the road so I risked switching the lights off.
Hopefully anything behind me would see my reflectors and stop in time.

I sat tight a couple of hours and all the time the weather got
worse. Suddenly a particularly strong gust caught the side of the car
and physically lifted two wheels off the ground. With dismay I
realised it was not safe to stay in the car after all, because if the
weather got any worse it was quite likely to overturn.

Reluctantly I got out of the car into the sheeting rain. I could see
no evidence of shelter of any kind, so I decided to follow the road
in the direction I had been driving, hoping I was close to the main
highway. Every step was a struggle, and I was physically blown off my
feet a couple of times. On one of them there was an ominous crunch
when I landed, and I realised my cell phone was now deceased. I was
beginning to wonder whether I'd live through the experience, whether
I'd ever see Mary and the twins again.

Just as the hour is darkest just before dawn, my despair was lifted
when I suddenly spotted a light in the distance. It was off the road
across some fields, but at least I'd get a softer landing when I was
blown off my feet. Soaking wet and constantly tripping over tussocks
of grass and being blown over by the wind, I made my way towards the
light. It seemed to take forever but eventually I got close enough to
see it was coming from a huge mansion. The problem was the mansion
was surrounded by an insurmountable ten foot wall topped with razor
wire.

I set about circumnavigating the mansion, following the wall in the
hope of finding an entrance and gaining comfort from the miniscule
amount of shelter it afforded. I must have traversed half the
circumference when I came to a pair of gates. Attached to the gates
was a notice:

'The Order of the Love Incarnate of Our Lord Jesus Christ',

and underneath in smaller letters:  

'Admission by prior appointment only'.

There was no entry phone or bell, but a little further along past
the gates and set into the wall was a small cottage with an external
door. The door lacked a bell or a knocker so I hammered on it with my
fists. An outside light came on, I heard the sound of bolts being
drawn back and then the door opened.

The man who opened it looked about fifty, with a large frame and a
friendly demeanour. He was wearing a lumberjack shirt and plain
charcoal pants.

"I hit a stag on the road and my car's wrecked. Do you have a phone
I can use to call for help?"

"I'm afraid there's not much call for them around here."

The man talked slowly as though he wasn't particularly intelligent,
but I later realised it was a front for visitors.

"Is there anywhere I can get some shelter for the night?"

The man pondered.

"Well, I can't let you into the compound because it's against the
rules. But you can stay here in the gatehouse. Only you've got to
promise not to tell the outside world about our ways because a lot of
people don't understand our simple way of life."

I readily agreed; I think I would have agreed to virtually anything
at that moment, but it was a Christian order so how bad could it be?

I realised I looked a hell of a mess, soaked to the bone and
shivering, and probably covered in mud and stains from the numerous
times I'd been swept off my feet by the wind. The man stood aside and
let me in, then bolted the door securely. The room was small but
cosy. They may not have had telephones but they had electricity. It
was sparsely furnished with a table, a large sofa and a couple of
chairs, the walls painted plain off-white with no decoration or
ornamentation other than a large cross on one wall. But best of all
there was a roaring log fire.

"Thank you. I was beginning to fear for my life out there."

"I can't remember it ever being this bad. I couldn't turn one of
God's creations away on a night like this. MAGDALENA!"

Footsteps sounded down a narrow hallway then a girl appeared. I
found it difficult to gauge her age. Her happy, smiling face was
innocent and childish but she had quite discernible breasts under her
green and white chequer pinafore dress. She was clean and healthy-
looking, with lustrous brunette hair and appeared to be well
nourished, with a well-rounded belly.

"Yes, pa?"

"We've an extra person for dinner. This is…."

I hadn't told him my name so he didn't know it.

"Richard Miller. Pleased to meet you," I volunteered.

I held out my hand to the man and he shook it warmly.     

"I'm Christopher, and this is my daughter Magdalena."

"That's okay. I'm making a stew and there's plenty to go around,"
contributed the little girl.

"Magda, can you fetch Richard a robe and a towel then show him the
bathroom so he can clean up and change out of his wet clothes."

"Yes pa. Come this way. May I call you Richard?"

"Certainly. And should I call you Magda?"

"Yes, that's what my friends call me. I'm glad you're here because
we don't get many visitors."

As she led me along the narrow hallway, I could smell the stew
cooking. I have never smelled anything so welcoming in all my life.
As Magda led me up a flight of stone steps, I briefly explained about
my car troubles.

"Oh no, the poor stag," said Magda, her bottom lip trembling.

For the first time, the happy smile left her face.

"It was very quick, I don't think he suffered."

As an outsider here I realised I would need to take my cue from them
in order not to offend them since I needed their help, and they
obviously cared deeply about God's creations.

Magda opened the door of a cupboard and took out a large bath towel
and a white cotton robe. She then opened the door opposite, revealing
it to be a bathroom, albeit primitive.

"Come down when you're ready, dinner won't be long," she smiled.
"Bring your wet clothes down and I'll put them in the drying room."

To my surprise there was hot and cold running water, but no shower.
I stripped off my sodden clothes, then washed myself as best I could.
My knees and elbows were grazed where I had fallen on them when blown
off my feet, and I winced with pain as I washed them clean.

I decided against putting any of my wet clothes back on, even though
that meant I would be naked underneath the robe. I'd just have to
make sure it didn't accidently come open and offend my hosts. I even
went without shoes as although cold, the floors seemed scrupulously
clean and my shoes had made unhappy squelching noises as I walked.

I made my way back downstairs and followed the delicious scent to
the kitchen, where Magda was stirring the contents of a large stockpot.

"Here, let me take those," she said, taking my pile of sodden
clothing.

The drying room led off the kitchen, and I could feel a blast of
heat as she opened the door. She re-emerged a couple of minutes later.

"They'll be dry by morning."

"Thank you."

"Would you like to join pa in the dining room, and I'll bring dinner."

Magda indicated the narrow corridor and I followed it to the first
room I had entered. Christopher had laid the table, setting three
places with large bowls, spoons and tumblers. From somewhere he had
rustled up another chair. Christopher sat at the head of the table
and indicated I should sit to one side, opposite where Magda would be
sitting.

A few seconds later I heard wheels creaking and Magda entered,
wheeling a trolley with the stockpot on top. On a lower shelf were
bread, a fruit basket and a pitcher of water.

"Here, I'll do that," said Christopher, lifting the stockpot off the
trolley and setting it on the table.

He ladled generous portions of stew into each of the bowls. He then
placed the bread and the pitcher of water in the middle of the table,
breaking off large chunks of bread for each of us and filling our
tumblers. I knew enough not to start eating immediately. 

Christopher looked at me.

"Would you like to say a few words?"

I thought quickly while nodding my head instinctively. Christopher
and Magda closed their eyes, bowed their heads and clasped their
hands in prayer.

"Thank you O Lord for sparing my life and leading me to your
sanctuary in my time of need. For this generous bounty before us, we
are truly grateful."

I almost cringed at how corny that sounded, but Christopher and
Magda joined in with hearty 'Amen's.

We all tucked in, and it was as delicious as it smelled. There were
generous chunks of some sort of game in the stew, together with
seasonal root vegetables and potatoes. We all had seconds. I could
see why Magda looked so healthy and well-nourished if they ate like
this every day.

Christopher asked me about my life on the outside. I found it
terribly difficult to explain what a forensic accountant did,
especially since he seemed to know little about computers and the
internet. I told him about my wife and kids and my drive across
country to my sister's birthday celebration, mentioning that she'd be
worried about me since I was due to have arrived by now. At least he
knew what a motor car was! I didn't tell him was about my sister's
domestic set-up; I thought the concept of two lesbians in a civil
partnership might be offensive to him.

I was very careful not to ask about The Order in case Christopher
thought I was prying, but I did venture to ask whether he was
married. He explained that he had been, but they'd been divorced a
very long time. Somehow he ended up as gatekeeper for The Order and
liked the lifestyle so much that he felt no inclination for change.
He was very proud of Magda. The Order took pride in its educational
standards and many of its children had gone on to outside college.
Many of them returned, but a significant number stayed in the outside
world, landing high-powered jobs on the strength of their academic
prowess and religious upbringing.

"Magda here is getting excellent grades in maths and sciences. She
already knows far more about stuff than I do."

Magda blushed and looked away, smiling shyly.

After we had our fill of the stew, Christopher handed round the
fruit bowl, all fresh and grown by The Order. I chose an apple, which
turned out to be crisp and sweet.

At last we were full.

"Can I help clear up?" I volunteered.

"Heck no, it can wait till morning. Magda, since it's a special
occasion, let's treat ourselves to a bottle of The Brothers' Finest."

Magda went over to a cupboard I hadn't noticed before, and took out
a large ochre glass bottle. She handed it to Christopher, who poured
large slugs into his and my tumblers and a tiny sip into Magda's.

"Normally she isn't allowed to drink, but seeing as it's a special
occasion. Sip it carefully, now."

I took a careful sip then swallowed, then instinctively coughed as
the liquid burned its way down the back of my throat. Shit, that was
strong stuff. Christopher was obviously inured to it because he took
a large gulp. Magda took a tiny sip and like me, burst out coughing.
We all laughed.

"The Brothers brew it themselves. It's quite a good seller round
these parts, and the money helps pay for any supplies The Order needs
from outside. Mostly The Order subsists on charitable donations,
particularly from those who grew up here then left."

We chatted and drank some more. I was very careful to only sip mine,
but Christopher drank with gusto and it became apparent he was
becoming inebriated.

In spite of Christopher's exhortation to leave the clearing up until
morning, Magda got up and started to clear away the soup bowls and
the leftovers onto the trolley. As she leaned over me to collect my
empty bowl, I suddenly realised that what I thought was puppy fat was
in the wrong place. My expression must have revealed my shock and
Christopher noticed, despite his inebriation.

"That's right, and it's mine. Seven months. Come here, pet."

Magda went and stood by his side.

"See these?"

Christopher cupped one of Magda's breasts over her dress.

"She hasn't grown any proper tits yet. This is milk."    

Christopher pushed aside the shoulder of the pinafore dress,
revealing the naked breast underneath with a large brown areola and
elongated nipple. He squeezed the nipple between finger and thumb and
a little drop of milk seeped out. He collected it on the tip of his
finger then sucked it into his mouth.

"Delicious. You want to try some?"

Still in shock I shook my head.

"Lift up your dress, pet."

Magda lifted up the front of her dress, revealing her bulging belly.
She wasn't wearing any panties, and I stared at her bald little pussy
with its puffy, immature lips. Christopher rubbed a finger along her
naked slit a few times then held it up so that I could see it
glistening. He then gently inserted the finger inside Magda and
started finger fucking her. Magda breathed heavily, as first a second
then a third finger invaded her pussy.

"The Brothers believe that Our Lord Jesus was married to the
prostitute Mary Magdalene, and they had a daughter Mariam. When Our
Lord Jesus was crucified and dying on the cross, Mary Magdalene took
a bowl of water under the pretext of washing Jesus' feet. She was
really there to milk his sperm, which she collected in the bowl so
she could use it to impregnate his daughter, by then a pubescent
child. The resurrection was actually the birth of Mariam's son, also
named Jesus, who became the rebel leader documented in The Dead Sea
Scrolls, fighting to avenge his father's death. By 'Love Incarnate'
we mean the physical expression of love."

Christopher explained this in a matter-of-fact voice while
continuing to finger fuck his daughter, who had closed her eyes and
was moaning and breathing heavily as she became more and more aroused.

"The Brothers discovered that if a woman gets a lot of good sex
during pregnancy, particularly during the later stages, the babies
are healthier and better adjusted as if they realise they are being
born into a loving environment. If a girl gets pregnant as soon as
she enters puberty, the rampant hormones in her body make her
sexually insatiable. I can't keep up with Magda even though I fuck
her twice a day."

Christopher added his thumb to the action, using it to massage
Magda's clit while continuing to finger-fuck her pussy. Magda was
pushing back at him and her breathing was very shallow and rapid; I
sensed she was close to orgasm.

"Nobody is forced, but The Order encourages girls to get pregnant
when they hit puberty because it's a win-win, producing lots of
healthy, well-adjusted offspring. The Brothers encourage girls who
produce daughters to continue to breed because they tend to continue
to produce daughters, but girls who produce sons are encouraged not
to continue to breed after the second. They tend to end up leaving
The Order to make a life on the outside. They provide one of our
richest streams of donations."

Magda squealed as her orgasm broke, her whole body shuddering with
pleasure, then she sank back onto her chair as her legs gave way,
letting the front of her dress fall down again.

"Magda's my daughter, but she's also my granddaughter."

The flushed girl sat panting on the chair, slowly recovering. I
became aware of a chilly sensation, and realised that, despite my
initial abhorrence at the man masturbating his daughter so brazenly
in front of me, my cock was rock hard, seeping precum and poking
through my robe at the ceiling. Both Christopher and Magda noticed
and stared at it, and a strange look fleetingly passed over the
child's face. Surely it wasn't envy! Flushing with embarrassment, I
hurriedly adjusted my robe and restored my dignity.

"Off you go to bed now, pet. Richard and I will finish up here."

"Thanks pa."

Magda gave her father a peck on the cheek then headed off down the
corridor.    

Christopher put the remains of The Brothers' Finest back in the
cupboard.

"Would you mind stacking the dishes on the trolley and wheeling it
to the kitchen? I just want to check on Magda."

"No problem," I replied, my mind working overtime on the sordid
things he might be about to get up to with Magda.

I stacked the empty soup bowls, the tumblers, the nearly empty
stockpot, the ravaged remnants of the bread and the water-pitcher on
the trolley and carefully wheeled it along the corridor to the
kitchen. To my surprise, Christopher appeared right behind me - he
hadn't been gone long enough to fulfil my imaginings.

He put the remnants of the stew into the fridge, the bread into a
bread bin, then stacked the dirty dishes in the sink and covered them
with water to soak.

"We don't have a guest room I'm afraid. You're welcome to share
Magda's bed if you want."

I was shocked at the suggestion. Unable to speak, I shook my head.
He actually seemed disappointed!

"That leaves the sofa. It's more comfy than it looks. I've brought a
pillow and a couple of blankets down, but the remnants of the fire
will keep you warm for most of the night. I have to be up early in
the morning so I'm turning in now. I'll talk to The Brothers tomorrow
and see about getting you on your way."

I thanked Christopher, then watched him ascend the stairs towards
his bedroom. I returned to the dining room. Suddenly aware of how
tired I was, I turned in too, falling asleep almost immediately on
the deceptively comfortable sofa.  

I dreamt I was asleep in bed with my wife Mary. She was nude and
holding her warm body against mine, slowly jacking my cock with her
hand to rouse me for a bout of lovemaking. Only the body was smaller
and hotter than I remembered, and her small fingers could barely
reach round the girth of my cock.

I woke with a start and found the dream was half real. In the half-
light of the dying fire I saw Magda was lying on the sofa next to me,
rubbing my exposed cock with a hot little fist.

"Please can we fuck?" she whispered, when she realised I was awake.

In shock, I rolled onto my back to escape but found I was trapped
from going any further by the rear of the sofa, leaving my cock
pointing at the ceiling and weeping with precum. Taking my silence as
assent, Magda climbed on top of me and lowered herself onto my cock.
Her pussy was incredibly tight but despite the lack of foreplay, she
was so wet that my cock slid into her quite readily until I was
almost balls deep.

Magda fucked me brutally, bouncing up and down as though her life
depended on it. She needed a hard cock and mine was the most
convenient. My cock wasn't exactly protesting and I felt the pressure
building in my groin.

Magda came first, her hot little pussy spasming round my cock,
seemingly trying to milk my sperm with her internal muscles. My cock
responded almost immediately, shooting jet after jet of cum into her
hot little pussy.

After we had both finished, Magda collapsed back onto the sofa,
panting hard after the exertions. I was appalled at what had just
happened and appalled that I hadn't resisted, yet strangely I was
most appalled by the primitive, loveless coupling.

I wrapped an arm round the girl and hugged her to me to let her know
everything was alright, enjoying the sensation of her hot little body
against my skin. My mind was aflood with questions so I struck up a
conversation with the child, although it was more like a question and
answer session.

"Did your pa make you do that?"

She stiffened slightly in annoyance.

"Pa doesn't make me do anything I don't want to. It was the other
way round. Pa guessed what I wanted to do and came to my room to give
me his permission. He loves me with all his heart but he can barely
fuck me once a day."

I gently stroked Magda's back by way of apology, and she relaxed
again.

"How old are you?"

"I'll be twelve in two months time. It would be rather neat if my
daughter were born on my birthday."

She giggled at that idea.

"Your daughter?"

"Well, I don't know for sure but I hope it's a girl. Boys are so
immature. They know for sure at the Med Centre because they did an
ultrasound but I asked them not to tell me. I want it to be a
surprise."

I was surprised and somewhat relieved that The Order had its own Med
Centre with high-tech equipment.

"Where's your mother?"

"She's CEO of a technology company in silicon valley. She comes to
see us when she can but she's so busy it's down to a couple of times
a year."

My stroking had become more concerted and I felt Magda's breathing
deepen as she became aroused at my touch. I gently pushed the girl
onto her back, and stroked and kissed her all over, starting with her
slender ankles and working my way all the way up her body, paying
particular attention to her bulge but studiously avoiding her genitals.

At last I reached Magda's breasts. I rubbed them gently, causing her
to sigh with pleasure. Then I popped a large, rubbery nipple into my
mouth, teased it with my teeth then sucked. Magda sighed loudly. To
my surprise I got a mouthful of warm milk. Instinctively I swallowed,
and found it was sweet and delicious. I jerked my head away.

"What's wrong? Don't you like the taste?"

"It was delicious."

"Then drink as much as you want. It will encourage my body to
produce more, ready for my daughter."

I had drunk sparingly of The Brothers' Finest so I had missed out on
a bedtime drink and my mouth was a bit dry. I could have gone to the
kitchen for some water but here I was, given an open invitation to
drink my fill of nature's most nutritious fluid, and I'd be doing
Magda a favour! Even Mary, my wife, hadn't been keen on my sampling
her milk when she was lactating.

I suckled greedily, swallowing the delicious fluid. From Magda's
sighs I realised the act was highly arousing for her, and when I
lowered a hand to her pussy I found it was soaking wet. I continued
to suckle, first one breast then the other. I inserted my fingers
into Magda's pussy and finger-fucked the child the same way I'd seen
her pa do earlier. Eventually I sensed that the flow was nearly dry
and I'd consumed all Magda's available milk, and I used my thumb to
tease her hard little clit while continuing to tease her rubbery
nipples with my teeth. Magda came hard, clenching her thighs round my
hand, her internal muscles trying to crush my fingers. I continued my
ministrations and out of the embers of her dying orgasm erupted into
a second, weaker orgasm. 

Magda pushed my hand away.

"No more. Yet. I can't take it," she panted.

I realised her clit was too sensitive, and needed some time to
recover. However my cock was now hard again and pressing against the
hot, firm flesh of Magda's leg. I gently rolled the girl onto her
side and spooned up behind her, my chest against her back, my stomach
against her buttocks, the fronts of my thighs against the backs of
hers.

Almost as an afterthought, I slid my straining cock into Magda's
pussy, holding it there without moving. Magda lay still for a while,
then gradually started rocking her body against mine, so my cock was
sliding perhaps an inch out then back in. Reassured that Magda was
ready to fuck again, I reciprocated her gentle rocking so my cock was
now sliding out a couple of inches each time. We kept the pace slow
and unhurried; we both wanted to prolong this fuck as long as possible.

I draped an arm over Magda's thigh and rested my hand on her bulge.
I swear I could feel her daughter gently kicking in time with our
fucking, showing her appreciation of the gentle loving her mother was
getting.

Our gentle fuck seemed to continue for eternity. I felt Magda slowly
getting more and more aroused, her juices seeping from her hot little
pussy and trickling down our thighs. Magda gradually increased the
pace and, taking my hand from her belly, placed it on her mound
instead. I didn't use my fingers, instead I pressed the palm of my
hand firmly against her mound so Magda was rubbing her clit against
it as she rocked.

Magda's arousal was now in overdrive with the dual stimulation, and
it wasn't long before I felt her pussy spasming around my cock, her
internal muscles rhythmically clenching and relaxing as they tried to
milk me of my sperm. I was still some way from cumming, so I
continued to rock gently to-and-fro as Magda rested, panting from her
exertions.

As I continued my gentle fucking, I felt Magda relax and lie still.
I continued my rocking motion, feeling the pressure in my groin
slowly increase. At last my orgasm was upon me and I thrust in
deeply, pumping my sperm into her tight little pussy.

After my orgasm was over, I realised Magda was asleep, emitting
quiet little child-snores. With my semi-hard cock still buried deep
in Magda's tight little pussy, I wrapped my arms around her and fell
asleep too.

Twice during the night I was woken by Magda for a quick, brutal fuck
with her on top setting the pace, her tight little pussy urgently
milking me of my sperm.

When I woke the next morning I noticed the chill in the air; Magda's
hot little body was no longer pressing against me and the fire had
gone out. There was a figure in a plain, green robe clearing out the
hearth. I noticed the ponytail and the swell of the hips and guessed
it was a woman.

Instinctively the figure seemed to realise I was awake. It got up
and turned round to face me and I saw that it was indeed a woman,
pretty, in her mid-twenties.

"Hi, I tried not to wake you. My name's Megan and I'm a novice here.
There's a clean towel in the bathroom for you to get washed, then
come down to the kitchen and I'll make you some breakfast."

Magda was in the kitchen when I got there, wearing her pinafore
dress again.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" she asked with a completely
innocent expression on her face.

I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment at what I'd done with the
child.

Megan entered the kitchen.

"The sofa was surprisingly comfortable," I responded non-committally
to Magda's question.

"We have home-grown cereal and toast or I could cook something for
you - bacon, eggs, mushrooms?" volunteered Megan.

I saw that Magda had just finished a bowl of cereal and was now
devouring a slice of toast and honey. I didn't want to put Megan to
any trouble.

"I'll have the same as Magda please."

I was served a bowl of flakes of wheat and corn with nuts and
seasonal berries, with fresh, unpasteurised chilled cow's milk. I
made a point of closing my eyes and clasping my hands in prayer
before eating, and in truth I really was grateful for what I was
about to receive. It was a bit strange not having sugar on my cereal
but I quickly realised how much of the taste I had previously missed.

Halfway through Magda got up.

"Must go or I'll be late for lessons."

She kissed Megan on the cheek then approached me. I held up my cheek
for her to kiss too, but she boldly kissed me full on the lips. I
felt my face burning again, but Magda was grinning at the
embarrassment she had caused.

"Bye, see you later," she sang out, then left down the corridor.

"You've made quite an impression on her, I see," grinned Megan.

"She's a great kid. She always seems so cheerful."

"Pretty much all the kids here are like that," reminding me of The
Order's unorthodox practices.

"Are lessons normal at the weekend?"

"Saturdays yes, the kids have schooling six days a week. Sundays are
reserved for prayer and meditation although the kids aren't forced to
participate. Most of them just go to a couple of services in the
chapel."  

"So what does being a novice involve?"

"Becoming a full Brother takes about ten years of work and study.
I'm about halfway through that."

That surprised me because I had assumed The Brothers were all men.

"There's no requirement to become a full Brother to stay here, or
even work towards it. All you need is to respect our way of life and
contribute to our community to the best of your ability. Christopher
is an excellent example of that."

"How did you find out about The Order?"

"I was born and brought up here. I went to London to study Business
Administration and Accountancy then came back here after my MB. My
principal job is in the office, doing the accounts and keeping the
finances on an even keel. We've even got computers in the main house
these days, but no internet access, of course.

"Everyone helps out where they are able. Christopher is principally
the gatekeeper, responsible for letting in the right people and
keeping out the wrong ones, but currently he's milking the cows,
feeding the pigs and the chickens and collecting the eggs. After he's
finished he'll talk to The Brothers and see what they can do to help
you on your way."

Megan removed my empty cereal bowl and replaced it with a plate with
a couple of slices of hot toast dripping with honey.

"The Order owns most of the land for miles around, and we grow just
about all our own produce. We sell some of our excess, particularly
The Brothers' Finest, which I understand you sampled last night."

I nodded, remembering the burning sensation it had caused in my
throat.

"I thought there were state laws against brewing other than for
personal consumption."

"We're a charity," Megan grinned. "We get away with a lot of things
through being a charity." 

When I had finished my toast, Megan asked if I wanted anything else.

"I don't suppose you have any tea or coffee, do you?"

"I'm afraid not. They have some in the main house, but here it's
water or milk. I could warm some milk if you like."

That reminded me of the delicious taste of Magda's breast milk from
the previous night.

"Water will be fine."

After pouring a tumbler of water for me, Megan took my cereal bowl
and plate and put them in the sink to soak. I noticed the dishes from
the previous night had disappeared, presumably washed and put away.

"I should go to my day job now, unless there's anything else I can
do for you." 

There was a sort of wistful questioning in Megan's tone, and I
wondered if she was implying that we could fuck if I wanted. However,
in the light of day my traditional morals reasserted themselves, and
anyway I wasn't sure I was up to the job. My balls felt drained and
lifeless.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

Megan hesitated. She wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to
put it.

"Look, you're not a prisoner here, you're free to leave at any time.
But as an outsider staying temporarily you're not welcome
unsupervised in the grounds, you're restricted to the gatehouse. Can
I trust you to stay here until Christopher gets back?"

"Sure. You folks saved my life and I'm not about to reward you by
abusing your hospitality."

"Thanks. Otherwise I would have had to ask someone to keep an eye on
you. Your clothes are over there by the way. They're dry but I'm
afraid they're rather grubby. If you were staying another day I'd get
them laundered in the main house for you."

Megan's voice lilted up towards the end, almost as if she were
asking whether I'd like to stay another night. I remembered the great
night of passion I'd shared with Magda and felt a pang of loss at the
prospect of never enjoying her hot little body again, but my brain
held sway and quashed the idea.

"Thanks, but you've already done more than enough."

Megan left and I got dressed into my grubby clothes. As Megan said
they were warm and dry. I found the dining room had an alcove I'd
previously missed with a window overlooking the grounds. I looked
out. The storm had blown itself out overnight and although it was
still overcast, it was dry and the wind had dropped. I noticed groups
of kids come and go on the lawns. All of them looked happy and
healthy, playing with no evidence of bullying and with no obvious
supervision, although green and brown-robed figures occasionally
scuttled past as they went about their business. There was a ratio of
about 3 girls to each boy, and perhaps a quarter of the girls who
were old enough were exhibiting signs of the various stages of
pregnancy. The girls were all dressed in green and white chequer
pinafore dresses, and the boys were dressed in green and white
chequer shirts with plain dark green pants.

I watched for quite a while, marvelling at how happy and well-
adjusted the kids seemed, despite the unorthodox lifestyle. However
the morning was wearing on, and I wondered what was keeping
Christopher.

I noticed a girl detach herself from the others and make her way
towards the gatehouse. When she got closer I saw it was Magda. I
wondered what she wanted. Because it hadn't felt right for me to
invade their privacy by exploring the gatehouse I didn't know the
whereabouts of the entrance from the compound. Magda disappeared from
view then shortly after she tracked me down in the dining room.

"I'm glad you're still here," she smiled at me.

"Are lessons over for the day?"

"No, I'm taking a comfort break, one of the perks of being pregnant."

"What sort of comfort does that involve?"

"I was rather hoping you'd fuck me. Pa is talking to The Brothers at
the moment so it might be our last opportunity…."

I lowered my eyes; my daytime morals were holding sway.

"….unless you decide to stay," Magda added hopefully.

I looked up and my heart broke at the sight of her normally happy,
smiling face looking so sad. It didn't help that she had taken the
initiative and started rubbing my crotch with her hand and my cock
was rapidly rising to the occasion.

"I can't stay. It's my sister's birthday today and she'll be worried
sick about me because I'm nearly a day late and I haven't been able
to contact her. And then there's my wife and kids waiting for me.
But…."

Magda's face lit up as she divined the meaning of my hesitation, and
she grasped me in a firm hug.

"Thank you thank you thank you."

I bent my head over and kissed her forehead, but Magda reached up
and kissed me on the lips and for long minutes I lost myself in her
sweet taste.

When we broke for air I led her over to the sofa. I had Magda kneel
on the floor, and rest her daughter on the cushions. I flipped the
back of her pinafore dress up over her hips and found something I
hadn't expected - a pair of plain white cotton panties.

"We'd better take these off," I said, as I hooked my thumbs into the
waistband and lowered the panties down her thighs to her knees,
making plenty of contact with her smooth, warm skin on the way.

"Oh, I don't normally wear any, just when I'm having a period. But
even after washing this morning I still felt a bit icky inside so I
thought it would be more hygienic to wear them until I could use the
showers in the main house. After that it just seemed less trouble to
wear them than carry them around."

Magda lifted each knee in turn so I could free the panties and slide
them the rest of the way down her legs, giving me an excuse to stroke
her firm calves and ankles on the way, until I lifted the panties
over her feet and off completely. I gently prised her knees apart to
open her up more, then rubbed a finger along her slit to test her. As
I expected, she was already damp and ready for me.

I lowered my mouth to Magda's slit and attacked it with my tongue.
Magda gasped with pleasure and tried to push back to increase the
pressure. I penetrated her labia, then forced my tongue into her hot
little pussy, attempting to fuck her with it. Magda responded by
moaning loudly and grinding her pussy into my face, which was getting
quite sticky with her juices. I sought out her hard little clit with
my thumb and teased it mercilessly. Magda squealed as she came, her
pussy constricting rhythmically round my invading tongue.

As Magda's orgasm died away, I went to work lapping up the delicious
juices from her pussy. Every part of her I had sampled tasted
delicious, perhaps due to the healthy diet that everyone in The Order
consumed. I avoided her clit, feeling that it might be too sensitive
for further attention immediately, but I felt her arousal growing
again all the same. When I forced my tongue yet again into her hot
little pussy, I felt her shudder through a second, weaker orgasm.

Finally I pulled my pants and boxers off and rubbed my cock along
Magda's slit to lubricate it. Then I lined up the head and pushed it
into her hot little pussy. I had planned to tease Magda, just
inserting the head and proceeding with a slow, gentle fuck but as
soon as she felt me embedded in her pussy she pushed away from the
sofa, taking my whole length in one fell swoop. Realising that Magda
wanted a fast, hard fuck, I lifted her belly back onto a supporting
cushion then pistoned in and out for all I was worth. Even though she
had just had two orgasms in quick succession and the hot tightness of
her little pussy was irresistible, Magda still managed to cum before
me, the spasming muscles of her pussy trying to suck my cock into
orgasm too. 

Although I could feel the pressure in my groin building, I was still
some way from orgasm so I continued thrusting in and out but reduced
the pace to a slow crawl, merely trying to maintain my state of
arousal while Magda recovered. After several minutes of the slow
deliberate fucking I slid a hand under her belly and sought out her
Magda's clit. She didn't flinch when I stroked it with a fingertip,
so I upped the pace of my fucking again while continuing to tease the
clit. This time I came first, shooting jet after jet of sperm deep
into Magda's pussy. Emitting a loud wail, Magda came a split second
later, her whole body shuddering as her pussy throbbed around my
spurting cock. Our orgasms seemed to feed off each other for ages, my
cock emitting dry throbs long after my balls were empty, Magda's
pussy spasming its response.

As I pulled out my shrinking cock, Magda's strength seemed to fail
and she slid off the sofa in a faint. I lifted her gently onto the
sofa, and laid her head on a pillow. She was breathing okay, so I
guessed she was sleeping. I marvelled at the sight, the perfect
paradox of slutty innocence, the angelic face of a young child
dressed in school uniform contrasting with pregnant bulge and her
look of orgasmic bliss, her hair plastered to her forehead. I donned
my boxers and pants and made my way to the bathroom to clean my cock.

To my horror, when I returned to the dining room to check whether
Magda was okay, Christopher was there. And Magda's panties were lying
on the floor where I'd left them. I nearly died on the spot.

"Ah, I see you helped Magda with a comfort break. I'm really
grateful you know, she's insatiable and I can't keep up with her."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I had just fucked his
pregnant eleven-year-old daughter and he was thanking me for it.

Magda roused from her slumber.

"Pa, Richard was really nice to me. Can we persuade him to stay?"

"That's up to him, pet. I think The Brothers would be sympathetic,
especially since Megan likes him too. But it's his choice and he has
other things to attend to."

Then Christopher turned to me.

"I had a talk with The Brothers. Unfortunately the only motor
vehicles we have are farm vehicles and nobody from outside is
scheduled to make any deliveries here until the middle of next week.
However there is a farm about twenty miles from here where they have
a phone. If you can ride a bicycle, we can lend you one to get there
so you can phone for help."

"Thank you, I couldn't possibly ask for any more of you."

A bicycle was brought round for me with a large pannier on the
front. Christopher and Magda prepared some provisions for me because
they anticipated the journey wouldn't be trivial after the storm.
Christopher made me some ham sandwiches and Magda a bottle of milk.
They stood at the door of the gatehouse to say their goodbyes.   

 "I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me. I'd like to
make a donation but I don't have any money on me. What's the address
of this place?" I asked.

"You can find us on the internet," piped up Magda, "We've got a
website."

"Yes," agreed Christopher, "What she said! If you're ever in the
area call in and pay us a visit. We'd both love to see you."

"Oh yes", exclaimed Magda hopefully.

As I tried to get the impetus to leave, Magda leaned up and kissed
me on the lips. Even though her father was watching I responded,
although I kept it chaste and broke it off after less than a minute.
She took the opportunity to whisper in my ear.

"Enjoy the milk. It's mine!"

Christopher then produced a bottle of The Brothers' Finest.

"We've had problems with journalists, so the farmers don't like
strangers. If you give them this, it will show that you're
trustworthy." 

I mounted the bicycle and pedalled away, turning once to wave
goodbye. Magda looked as though she were crying.

The route from The Order was a very wide dirt track, badly rutted
and with large puddles. There was evidence of motor vehicle access
but I guessed that anything other than an all-terrain vehicle would
struggle to get here at the best of times; they certainly didn't try
to encourage visitors. Progress was slow and I had to dismount many
times to circumvent obstacles such as fallen trees and deep puddles.
The storm had done a lot of damage.

Early afternoon I stopped for a rest, sitting on the trunk of a
fallen tree. I tucked into the sandwiches and milk and they were
absolutely delicious. Magda had told the truth about the milk's
origins; I recognised her distinctive taste.

Refreshed, I set off again. Progress continued to be slow and I
started to get concerned about reaching the farm before end of the
afternoon.

I eventually saw some landmarks Christopher had warned me about and
the quality of the track improved significantly. I realised I was
nearing the farm entrance, just in time because the light was
starting to fade. I found the farmhouse and made my way to the door,
which had a large knocker in the middle. I gave three sharp raps and
waited. Eventually a middle-aged woman opened the door.

"Yes?" she asked.

I told her I had wrecked my car and asked if I could use their
telephone.

"No, strangers aren't welcome here. Go away!"

The woman made to shut the door in my face but just in time I waved
the ochre bottle at her.

"The Order gave me shelter last night. They said you'd been pestered
by journalists and sent this as a peace offering."

The woman broke into a broad smile and opened the door.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place! Come in. The storm did a
lot of damage to the fences yesterday and my husband and sons are out
trying to repair them. The phone line survived, and you're welcome to
use it."

I spent over an hour on the phone. First I rang Mary and the kids to
let them know I was safe; they'd had a storm too but considerably
milder. Then I rang Martha and summarised my delay and told her I was
on my way and still hoping to get there. Martha's locale had been hit
by the storm and it had done some damage but fortunately her house
was unscathed. Next I rang the local cops to warn them about the
wrecked car and the dead stag. They said that it wasn't a problem at
the moment because so many trees had been blown down that the road
was impassable. Clearing it was a lower priority than rescuing people
from badly damaged homes.

Finally I rang the car rental company. I have never been so grateful
at taking out their all-singing all-dancing insurance. There was
nothing to pay for the wrecked car; that was completely covered. I
was entitled to a replacement but because of operational difficulties
due to the storm they had nothing available. Would it be acceptable
if they hired a taxi to collect me and take me to my destination
until they could arrange a substitute? I readily agreed, then had to
hand over to the farmer's wife to explain how to reach the farm.

I finally got to my sister's house at 2am, Sunday morning, two hours
after her birthday was over. The party had ended prematurely too
because so many guests had been worried about the storm.

"Jesus, you look a mess," she observed, indicating my muddy clothes.

"You should see the car. I'm afraid your present's still in the
trunk!"

"You, safe and sound, are the present I most wanted. I was worried
stiff about you when you didn't arrive and you didn't phone."

I had a quick shower, then Martha and Moira made me a nightcap. I
gave them the gist of my experiences, omitting any references to The
Order's lifestyle apart from their healthy eating habits. Then I went
to bed and slept for twelve hours.

Back home I looked up The Order on the internet. As Magda said, they
had a website. It gave very little detail apart from their devotion
to the teachings of Our Lord Jesus. It didn't even have an address,
just a contact form and a donations facility. I checked our finances
and reckoned we could readily spare $1000 and went through the
donation process. It was the least I could do to show my gratitude.

Two months later, there was a letter in the mail with my name and
address hand written, unusual in these times. I opened it and found a
short hand-written note.

'Marguerita was born three days after my birthday weighing 5lb 4ozs.
Mother and baby fine. Missing you. Love Magda XXXXX'.

Carefully worded not to give any hint of The Order's unusual
practices. Magda must have traced me through my credit card address.

I was relieved I had collected the post that day, there would have
been awkward questions if Mary had seen it. I destroyed the envelope
but kept the note, storing it in a secret compartment in my wallet,
close to my heart.