The Incredible Layla Moon
An Entertainment
by
James Rainsford
Layla Lucrezia Moon entered the world at precisely 6:00 a.m. on the sixth of June, 1996. Many would later assert that the time and date of her arrival were highly significant, since her birth occurred on the sixth hour of the sixth day of the sixth month.
This fact alone was sufficient to convince the gullible that she was marked for a life of evil from that very moment. They undoubtedly would have been even more certain of her demonic origin had they also known that she had been conceived at exactly 6:00 p.m. in room 666 on the sixth floor of the Hexagon Heights Hotel on Kailua Bay, Hawaii, where Joseph and Mary Moon, her ecstatic parents, had spent their idyllic six-week honeymoon.
Others, less easily influenced by the mystical nonsense in the Book of Revelation of St John the Divine, became reluctantly persuaded of her satanic powers by her subsequent deeds.
However, at the very beginning there was nothing to indicate the scale and nature of the events, which later were to make her so notorious and universally feared.
Her first appearance in the small, yet fabulously well-equipped delivery room of the maternity suite of Saint Vagina’s private birthing clinic was a joyous occasion, filled with optimism, hope, gratitude and the relief which usually accompanies a successful and trouble free birth. Even Ramona De’ath, the senior midwife and Damien Brimstone the consultant gynaecologist on duty that evening agreed that they’d rarely witnessed such a swift and trouble free delivery.
Mary and Joseph Moon, Layla’s ecstatic parents, were excited and delighted at the arrival of their first, and as subsequent events determined, their only child. They were even more pleased by the easy birth and unbelievable beauty of their daughter. For without doubt, Layla was the most perfect baby ever delivered in Saint Vagina’s state-of-the-art maternity suite.
Everyone who saw her in these first few hours remarked upon her perfection. She never cried and appeared to smile when anyone came near. Dr. Brimstone was so impressed by her progress and obvious well being that Mary and Joseph were allowed to take her home the evening of the day following her birth.
Home was a newly constructed modern eight bedroom detached house in an exclusive development of six individually designed dwellings on a wooded hillside high above the deprived South Wales valley town of Abercwmtwerp. The Moons had purchased their impressive house on this new and prestigious development just two months before their wedding and had moved in immediately after their return from honeymoon. Their house, now complete and filled with expensive Scandinavian designer furniture and fittings, stood in four acres of wooded gardens at the head of a beautifully landscaped cul-de-sac called Paradise Pastures. It was in this luxurious and pampered child-centred environment that Layla passed the early years of her very eventful life.
To keep her amused and stimulated there were attractive mobiles suspended above her handmade ‘Dreamland’ Brazilian mahogany cot. Her bedroom was full of the most expensive soft toys and colourful visual experiences to help develop her perception and imagination. There were mirrors, concealed lighting and subdued music to stimulate or calm her changing moods.
Her every need was catered for by her doting mother and by Ingrid Johansson, the attractive blonde eighteen year old Swedish au-pair and English language student, who’d been interviewed and appointed by Joseph to assist Mary in her domestic duties. She also acted as a live-in babysitter to Layla, so he and Mary could continue to enjoy their busy and familiar social life.
This life, which prior to Layla’s arrival had consisted of parties, meals in expensive restaurants, visits to casinos, exclusive nightclubs and foreign holidays in exotic resorts, was funded by Joseph’s business interests in the timber and joinery trade.
Due to the tragic death of his father, Maurice, when he was unfortunately decapitated by a rogue band-saw in one of his own timber yards, Joseph had, at the tender age of eighteen, inherited a very large fortune and total ownership and control of his father’s considerable business empire.
This consisted of a timber importing company, four sawmills in Wales, two in England and Scotland, one in Ireland, a chain of fifty large joinery companies throughout the UK, which, in honour of his birth eighteen years previously, his proud father had renamed ‘Joseph’s Joinery.’ Most profitable of all, was his ownership of thousands upon thousands of acres of prime forest in India, Brazil, Norway and Finland.
By the time he first saw Mary at the poolside of the Pagoda Palace Resort Hotel while holidaying in the Seychelles he was a single, handsome twenty-six year old playboy with a large penis, extensive fortune and expanding business empire.
Mary, who’d been forced to accompany her wealthy Texan parents on their vacation to this Chinese owned exclusive beachfront hotel, was by contrast, just turned sixteen and bored to distraction by their turgid company.
She was instantly smitten by Joseph’s charm and stylish fashion sense. Until her meeting with Joseph she had lived what her parents had falsely imagined was a sheltered and protected existence as a pupil at Saint Teresa’s private Roman Catholic girls’ boarding school, in the secure and monitored grounds of the Convent of Our Lady of the Passion, located within a walled enclosure in an exclusive Fort Worth suburb.
Far from protecting her innocence, Saint Teresa’s was a cauldron of repressed and frustrated sexuality, which found unfortunate expression by actively encouraging the formation of intense lesbian liaisons between pupils and pupils, pupils and staff, and even worse, by turning a blind eye to the many girls regularly and systematically abused by Father Brendan Murphy-O’Malley. A fat, balding, myopic, middle-aged Jesuit Priest who served as spiritual mentor to both the nuns of the convent and the girls of Saint Teresa’s School.
For Father Brendan, his pastoral role within the convent and the school was the perfect appointment. It allowed him to indulge his sexual predilection for uniforms, schoolgirls and religious symbols. A powerful trio of erotic stimulants; providing him with so many opportunities to sin that he spent a large part of each weekend in self mortification and unanswered prayer.
It was in this environment of seething and rampant sexuality that Mary was, at the tender age of fourteen, first introduced to the intimate delights of lesbianism. Her twin tutors were Isabella-Consuela Diaz, a stunning black haired half blood Spanish senior prefect and Sister Maria Magdalene a young red headed and stunningly beautiful Carmelite novice on a year’s teaching exchange from the Convent of the Sacred Heart in the depths of County Galway.
For Mary, this early initiation into the many and various methods of lesbian gratification ignited an intense sexual fire, which manifested itself in a powerful carnal curiosity and a heightened awareness of her own attractiveness and desirability.
This obvious flowering of her sexual interests quickly made her a very desirable target for the attention of Father Brendan, who, after using his accustomed ploy of blackmail by threatening to expose her lesbian liaisons to her parents, introduced her to his vast and varied repertoire of fantasies and perversions.
By the time therefore, she was sixteen and on holiday with her unsuspecting parents, she was already an accomplished and knowledgeable sexual predator of considerable skill and experience. This, together with her stunning good looks, toned and youthful body and panther like grace, made her totally irresistible to Joseph Moon when he first saw her by the heart shaped pool which graced the fabulous tropical gardens of the Pagoda Palace Resort Hotel.
He initially noticed her lying on a lemon sun-lounger wearing a tiny black satin bikini. His eyes were immediately drawn to a small embroidered golden crucifix which was stretched to an erection inducing tightness across her prominent mound of Venus. Her bronzed lightly oiled skin shimmered with sensuality in the sunshine of this perfect day and with her long natural blonde hair, intense blue eyes, inviting and seductive smile, she was a vision of such rare desirability Joseph knew instantly that, if he could not marry her, he would forever remain single.
Mary’s parents, Chuck and Charlene Sherman were at first a little concerned at the obvious interest which Joseph showed in their beautiful daughter. At first, they considered him far too old and experienced to be a suitable boyfriend for her, because they mistakenly believed her to be their innocent and uncorrupted baby.
However, their initial anxiety quickly evaporated once they had made urgent enquiries. They were reliably informed by Walt Maverick an ex Texas Ranger now running the Maverick Private Dick Detective Agency in downtown Fort Worth that Joseph’s assets and personal wealth exceeded their own by a considerable margin.
Walt was a very reliable P.I. and when he phoned the Shermans in their luxury penthouse suite in the Pagoda Palace with his detailed report on Joseph Moon, they were delighted to learn of his vast business empire and large fortune. Their view of him as a potential suitor for their belovéd daughter changed instantly from one of horror, to one of active approval and encouragement.
In fact, within twenty minutes of receiving Walt’s call they had approached him with an invitation to dine with them and Mary that evening.
Joseph had been in his usual position at the pool bar when the Sherman’s issued their invite and he was thrilled beyond belief to be given parental approval to meet their divine daughter. As he smilingly accepted he had a perfect view of Mary reclining by the poolside, sensuously adopting the most tantalising and provocative positions as she oiled her sleek body with expensive sun lotion.
Joseph, who’d spent the three nights since he first saw Mary, in such a state of sexual arousal that he’d been unable to sleep, was now, so hooked by his desire for this teen temptress, he’d decided no matter what the consequences, he just had to have her.
Imagine therefore his delight, when just as he was struggling to formulate a plan to transform his fantasy into reality, he was provided with this unexpected opportunity.
The invite was for 8.00 p.m. in the internationally renowned Pagoda Palace’s prestigious restaurant ‘The Terrific Pacific Prawn’.
This world famous eatery was run by Marcel-Pierre Poulet, a three Michelin starred chef from Scunthorpe, who’d adopted his current nom-de-plume after he’d unexpectedly won a T.V. cooking competition.
His prize was to prepare the main course at a Gatcombe Park garden party hosted by The Princess Royal in honour of Mojobo Hippolado the President of Western Zargonia and attended by her mother The Queen.
He’d felt that his real name of Charlie Chicken lacked the gravitas demanded by such a royal occasion. His ex-wife Beryl, maintained that his subsequent rise to fame owed more to his poncey new name than to his dubious cooking skills.
She was cruelly dismissive of his talent and referred to his two great signature dishes of: ‘Foi-gras with pear and walnut jus nestling on a bed of crushed caramelised swede’ and ‘crown of Welsh mountain lamb in apple and cherry butter, with smoked Greek olives and black truffles’, as ‘Pretentious Pate´’ and ‘Rip off Ribs.’
Fortunately, her contemptuous dismissal of his skills did nothing to depress his confidence, or affect his culinary arrogance, an arrogance which had served to raise the reputation of many mediocre chefs to the status of celebrity prima donnas.
As his fame increased, so too did his prices and popularity and he consoled himself with the knowledge that his ex wife’s food preferences and opinions had been nurtured and developed in her father Percy’s Pie and Chip shop where her taste buds had been destroyed by years of stale steak pies and curried chips.
None of this secret history impacted in the least upon Joseph’s heightened anticipation as he contemplated dining with Chuck, Charlene and their ravishingly desirable daughter.
In fact, any sensual dining pleasure Joseph may have experienced in the slightly kitsch atmosphere of The Terrific Pacific Prawn was totally overwhelmed by the almost unbearable proximity of Mary Sherman.
She’d arrived with her parents dressed in an iridescent cream silk backless top, black pleated mini-skirt, sheer black silk tights and strapless five inch stilettos decorated with pearls and jewel encrusted butterflies. Her long blonde hair cascaded across her flawless shoulders and flowed down her tanned and naked back with the hypnotic motion of a swaying cobra. Her crimson, perfectly manicured finger nails were adorned with tiny diamonds and her sparkling eyes were enhanced with iridescent blue eye-shadow.
She was a vision of such heart stopping sexuality that Joseph was finding it difficult to breathe. She was blessed with completely unblemished skin, intense azure eyes, dazzlingly white, perfectly even teeth, and exuded female sexual pheromones of such intensity, that Joseph was grateful his obvious and rampant erection was hidden beneath the generous overhang on the Terrific Pacific Prawn’s pristine white linen tablecloth.
Subsequent to their discovery of Joseph’s considerable wealth, Chuck and Charlene were keen to encourage his interest in their only and most treasured child. Any slight initial concern they felt regarding the probable early loss of her virginity, was outweighed by the prospect of welcoming Joseph’s riches into their under developed Texan oil business. Consequently, they made no objection when he asked their permission to take Mary on an island hopping trip the following day in his recently acquired Riva speedboat, which was conveniently moored in the resort’s exclusive marina.
That night, Joseph lay awake. Not due to the delights of Marcel-Pierre Poulet’s expensive cuisine, but in feverish anticipation of the day he was about to spend in the company of the most beautiful and desirable creature he’d ever seen.
Mary too, was restless and relaxed herself with a particularly effective masturbation routine, only recently learned from Sister Maria Magdalene beneath the rough horsehair blanket in her somewhat spartan cell within the Convent of Our Lady of the Passion.
She quickly achieved a shattering climax imagining how Joseph would enjoy her fellatio technique, which she’d practised and honed to perfection on the pathetic penis of Father Brendan in the dank and curtained privacy of the convent’s confessional. It was a skill she’d not employed, since she’d deep throated Miguel Ramiro-Mendoza, her parent’s part-time Mexican gardener and pool attendant, on the morning prior to her departure for the Seychelles.
Miguel, who was a forty-five year old illegal immigrant with a wife and six children to support, worked for subsistence wages and was terrified that unless he complied with all of Mary’s sexual demands, she would carry out her threat and reveal his illegal status to the immigration department. Her blowjob had been a rare treat, since she usually forced him to gratify her desires in ways which allowed him no opportunity to relieve his own desperate and intense sexual frustration.
Mary, who saw Miguel as no more than a convenient and easily manipulated sex object, was infinitely more interested in the prospect of sex with Joseph, whom she found much more appealing and attractive.
He became even more desirable the following morning when he introduced her to ‘The Spirit of Ecstasy’ his new forty-four foot, twin 800 hp Rivarama speedboat. Mary’s pleasurable reaction to the sight of this sleek and stunningly beautiful craft was matched by Joseph’s enthusiasm for her own fabulous appearance.
When she’d arrived, he’d been sitting on a low bollard beside his boat trying to appear casually nonchalant as he studied her approach down the long run of the marina’s floating pontoon.
She was wearing a white lawn shirt tied high on her right side, a short white and lemon pleated Dior tennis skirt, a pair of lemon coloured calfskin Prada mules and an Armani white and silver scarf draped across her tanned shoulders.
As she came closer, Joseph was aware that he’d never seen such a lithe and graceful girl. Her long legs were tanned and delicately muscular as she moved towards him with all the grace and poise of a thoroughbred mare being taken to stud.
She possessed a confidence in her own sexuality, which despite her tender years was buttressed by her extensive experience. The deadly combination of her apparent innocence twinned with her obvious awareness of the effect she had upon every heterosexual male between puberty and death made her totally irresistible.
By the time she finally stood before him Joseph was so excited by the prospect of being alone with her for the entire day he was momentarily struck dumb and missed his cue when she greeted him in her slow and slightly husky Texan drawl.
‘Hi, Joseph,’ she smiled. ‘Is this your boat? My, my, it is a big one, isn’t it? I just love big ones,’ she continued, sensuously licking her lips and focussing her full attention upon the obvious bulge in the front of his navy-blue Henri Lloyd yachting shorts.
Joseph attempted to moisten his own lips, but it was an ineffective gesture, as his tongue was as dry as a sheet of sandpaper in a microwave.
Before he could disguise his arousal Mary planted her long tanned legs on either side of his right thigh and slowly lowered herself until he experienced the almost unbearable sensation of her silk panties against his warm skin.
She perceptively applied pressure by gripping his leg between the oiled smoothness of her upper thighs and lent forward so he could smell the sweetness of her breath and feel her pert, naked breasts beneath the thin material of her shirt. Extending her small pink tongue and deliberately moistening her lips again, she brought her beautiful mouth to his right ear and whispering suggestively, ‘Are you going to take me for an exciting ride, Joseph?’
Just before he was able to ensnare her in his arms, she swiftly stood and took a couple of steps back, to assess the effect of her actions. She was delighted to see that he was so shaken by her unexpected embrace he was panting like an aroused dog in a hot desert and struggling to regain his poise and composure. Completely aware of his turmoil, she was in total control of her seductive powers and looked forward intensely to the pleasure she would derive from making him a willing and docile slave to her sexual favours.
By the time he’d recovered sufficiently to properly introduce her to the stunning delights of ‘The Spirit of Ecstasy’ she had readopted the irresistible persona of an innocent and naïve convent schoolgirl and flattered him with her comments and expressions of approval, as he pointed out all his boat’s very expensive fixtures and fittings.
Mary was the perfect audience for his demonstration of the Riva’s impressive features and as they left the entrance of the small marina he opened up the throttles to demonstrate the awesome power of the craft’s twin 800hp engines and glanced back, to where she’d spread herself across the curved cream hide luxury of the aft seat.
With her long blonde hair streaming behind her and her even longer legs parted just enough for him to have an entrancing view of her white panties, he felt more fortunate than a tom cat in a creamery.
They were headed for the nearby island of ‘Sainte Anne,’ an unspoiled tropical paradise, with palm fringed pristine white sandy beaches kissed by the gently lapping waves of an azure blue sea.
Earlier that morning, Joseph had arranged for a sumptuous picnic to be brought aboard. His large galley fridge now bulged with Marcel-Pierre Poulet’s finest selection of al-fresco fancies, including, pacific oysters, beluga caviar and Dom Perignon vintage champagne.
He was determined Mary should be as impressed by his good taste and refinement as she was by his conspicuous wealth.
With the Riva’s enormous power and impressive top speed the trip seemed to take no time. Joseph was soon dropping anchor in the calm of a secluded and deserted bay, where the water was so transparent, the sandy bottom was clearly visible some five metres below.
Once the boat was securely anchored and Joseph had silenced her huge engines they both changed for a swim before they ate. Being a gentleman, Joseph showed Mary into the fabulous forward cabin so she could change in private. She was pleased at this, as she did not wish him to experience the pleasure of watching her undress until the moment was of her choosing.
When she emerged Joseph was thrilled to see that she was wearing the black satin bikini with the golden crucifix adorned pants which had so intrigued and excited him when he’d first seen her by the pool.
‘What’s the significance of the cross?’ he asked, as his eyes were irresistibly drawn to where it decorated the gentle swell of her perfect pudendum.
‘Oh that!’ she responded, as she glanced down to acknowledge the object of his gaze. ‘That was embroidered for me by one of my friends at school.’
The friend had in fact been Sister Maria Magdalene her Irish divinity teacher, who’d given her the bikini as an Easter present to celebrate Christ’s crucifixion. Mary first modelled it before their mutual masturbation session using the large cream altar candles, which Maria had stolen from the locked candle cupboard of the convent’s Chapel of the Holy Virgin.
However, before Joseph could pursue the matter further, Mary descended the short ladder to the aft swimming platform and executed a perfect dive to enter the inviting water with scarcely a splash.
It was much later that afternoon, when Joseph finally had Mary lying next to him on the queen size bed in the Riva’s luxurious forward cabin, that he discovered it was not only her bikini pants which were enhanced with religious symbolism.
For, to mark Christ’s resurrection she’d allowed Sister Maria to dye her pubic hair red and to cut it into a scarlet cross, which matched in shape and position the one embroidered on her pants. Joseph, who possessed no knowledge of the dark and potential sexual power of the passion of our Lord, was easily persuaded to accept Mary’s account that her pubic art was simply the result of naïve convent schoolgirl enthusiasm.
Still, he did find the cross slightly disconcerting and it strangely heightened the intensity of his desire to imagine beautiful schoolgirls fashioning each other’s pubic hair into symbols of religious faith.
He may have been more seriously disturbed, had he known the real architect of this example of blasphemous art was Father Brendan Murphy-O’Malley, who’d ordered Sister Maria Magdalene to cut and die the pubic hair of all the girls who acted as his sexual acolytes and who’d been initiated by him into the darkness of his profane perversions.
Certainly, Joseph was the fortunate recipient of all the erotic skills and tricks which Mary had acquired as Father Brendan’s favourite pupil and by the time she finally left Joseph’s bed, he was, sexually at least, a much weaker, much wiser and much happier man.
Within six months of this first sexual encounter Mary had left school, Joseph had invested more than sufficient cash into Chuck and Charlene’s oil business to ensure its future success and he’d been fast tracked to salvation by a swift conversion to Roman Catholicism.
In less than a year, they’d enjoyed the most wonderful wedding on the vast sunlit lawn of Chuck and Charlene’s mansion on the outskirts of Fort Worth.
They departed for their honeymoon and the bridal suite of the Hexagon Heights Hotel with great hopes for their future. Not suspecting that the meeting of the egg and sperm which was destined to become Layla Lucrezia Moon would eventually lead to such profound and cataclysmic consequences.