The content herein is entirely a work of fiction and all
characters and interactions are exclusively a product of my own
perverted mind.

Your comments are welcome, email Kylesphantasies@hotmail.com.

This and every other story in the Sara the Sorceress saga is
available (in its most recent revision) at
<http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Sara_the_Sorceress/Sara_the_S
orceress/>.

Sara the Sorceress

Chapter 1

Sara's dark auburn hair fell about her shoulders as she relaxed
on Miss Harris' porch swing. Her arms were draped over the back
of the swing, presenting her pert breasts to the world with a
confidence only exhibited by the ignorant. However, only the
smallest sampling of tanned clevage was visible over the collar
of her white, feminine-cut tee. Her toned, flawless legs were
parted almost lewdly and exposed well beyond mid-calf by her skin
tight khaki shorts, such was her comfort with her hostess.

Sara looked up expectently when she heard the front door swing
open. She watched Miss Harris' clean, professional figure exit
carrying two lemonades. Miss Harris, Anne to friends, appeared to
be in her mid-30s and wore a pressed black skirt that terminated
just above her knees topped by a white dress shirt, which was
partially unbuttoned in the early summer heat and offered a
healthy, yet not overtly sexual, view of her substantial chest.
Her silky black hair, owed to her quarter asian heritage, slipped
over her right shoulder as she bent forward to give Sara her
lemonade and an improved view of her voluptuous rack.

Anne took a seat next to Sara and brushed her hair back before
resuming their lunchtime small talk, "Still no summer job, Sara?"

Sara wanted nothing more than to work like her friends and
classmates, but in her small town most of the summer jobs were
reserved for family or had been siezed by more aggressive high
schoolers, "Nope, I've canvassed the whole town. Looks like I'm
out of luck this summer."

"That's too bad. I know getting that summer income is pretty
important at your age," Anne paused before continuing, "You
probably wouldn't be interested, but I'd be willing to hire you
to mow my lawn and do some yard work."

Sara thought hard, how low would she stoop for that money? She
eventually decided that the alternative, staying home while her
friends went out, was worse than yard work and assented, "I
suppose so, some money IS better than none, and I have plenty of
time while Laura is at work. Thanks Miss Harris."

Sara and Miss Harris continued their small talk for a short time
before Miss Harris stood and announced that she had to return to
work. "I'll leave the shed open for tools and the back door, too,
in case you'd like to use the rest room or take a break. There's
some soda and more lemonade in the fridge," she explained.

Sara and Miss Harris finished their drinks while circling the
house and investigating different jobs around the yard. Sara had
more than enough to do for the day by the time Miss Harris left.
She started with mowing the lawn, followed by weeding the garden
along the house. Sara decided to take a break and hit the rest
room after finishing the weeding.

To her dismay, Sara found the back door locked. She checked the
front but it was locked, too. Sara almost gave up and ran home
when she remembered seeing a basement window slightly ajar while
weeding along the house.

Sara returned to the garden and knelt before the window. Sara was
dismayed when she saw how rusty it was. Still, she pulled on it
earnestly and received a pleasant surprise when the window popped
right open and landed her on her butt.

'Certainly Miss Harris wouldn't mind, she just forgot to unlock
the door,' Sara thought to reassure herself before she slipped,
legs first and face down, into the basement. When she turned
around Sara was confronted with the finely carved, muscled
buttocks of an intricate gray stone statue. It looked every inch
the height of ancient art from behind, displaying the
stereotypical uncannily toned physique. However, what she saw
adorning front was downright obscene; an enormous, erect phallus
protruded from the statue's crotch.

Sara stared at the statue and, specifically, it's cock. Standing
before it, an irresistable curiosity gradually overtook her.
Unthinking, she stepped forward and reached down, gently touching
the statue's cock. It was hard, as she'd expected, but
surprisingly warm. Sara giggled, diffusing the tension, and
slowly pumped her hand down the phallus, giving the statue a
little hand job while exploring the flared head and overstated,
raised veins.

A moment, or perhaps a month, later Sara smiled, embarrassed,
before turning to find the rest room. She'd only taken two steps
before she was grabbed from behind. She was restrained by two
hands, gripping either side of her abdomen. The hands dug depper
into her sides as she was gradually lifted clear of the ground.
Sara flailed her legs wildly, kicking the legs of her assailant,
screaming and pleading, but her struggles elicited no response.
Next, Sara found herself tipping forward and moving briefly down.
The descent stopped when she felt a pressure between her legs,
spurring a renewed flurry of protests and pleadings, hoping that
she wouldn't be raped and praying that it wasn't the statue
holding her.

The pressure began to move across her jeams along the length her
virgin slit. It had drawn from her clit to the bottom and back to
her clit when the seam of her shorts and crotch of her panties
violently ripped open, shearing material and thread perfectly to
expose her virgin pussy. The invading member touched her gently
before slowly, steadily slipping inside her. Sara knew, from
school and her parents, that there should be pain, but there was
none. All she felt was a warm, intoxicating tingle that spread
from her pussy to suffuse her body, stalling her resistance.

The mystery cock pumped slowly in and out of her pussy,
intensifying the wonderful feeling with each thrust. Sara's hips
began rocking against the invader without her consent. Had she
tried to stop she would have found her own body unresponsive. As
the thrusts deepend, the feeling intensified until it bordered on
pain, then it exploded a thousand times stronger. Her limbs shook
uncontrollably and her eyes rolled into the back of her head
while torrents of her secretions rolled down her legs and the
legs of her unknown partner.

Sara gasped as the last echoes of her first orgasm faded. She
felt the hands disappear from her sides, leaving her to hang
breifly from her pussy. A creaking groan came from below her,
followed by a snap and then Sara spilled to the floor in a puddle
of juices and rubbery limbs. Sara levered herself up momentarily
but her arm gave out and she collapsed back to the floor,
unconscious.

To be continued...