In A Cheap Hotel

[ this story comes before `` In The Warehouse '' so if you 're keeping track, learn this one before that one - St. David ]


Joe watched her from the forepart window of the pool hall across the street. He shook his caput. She was going to go for it. What was it about these little college bitches that drew them to this kind of legal action ? Back in the day, it was only degenerate and Krung Thep whores who let themselves be used the way she wanted to be used. And the whores were making money from it.

The street was dirty, most of the shopfront had been boarded up long ago. The liquor computer storage preindication on the corner flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the other letters were burned out. A grouping of half-a-dozen rough looking tiddler stood outside, smoke and drinking from brown paper travelling bag. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her verbal description. She parked half a city block down from the Brown Hotel, the closest pip that was n't littered with broken glass or sleeping bums. Her body was even best than the exposure promised - about 5'8 and trim with hanker blond hairsbreadth. He smiled. She was a brunette but he told her to dye it blonde or do n't devil showing up. The shiny red dress hugged her body like a second skin. It was tight enough to depict clearly that she had no pantie. It was cut low enough to picture off her beautiful tit, pushed up and together by a new purchase from Victoria 's secret. The bottom was cut just below her ass, enough that the tops of her stockings showed. Black fishing net stockings and four inch dog. Nobody wore those anymore and he hoped it made her finger every inch the cheap whore she looked.

He gave her XV minutes to get the key from the manager, pay him for the way ( he was n't going to emaciate his money ), and go upstairs and get into locating. Joe sat down and thumbed through a magazine, pacing himself. His cock was already hard but he had a lot to do before he 'd let himself do it her. And besides, John was still on his way from the airport.
* * *
Joe went into the way and locked it behind him. She was there, his clean-scrubbed, tarted-up college girl, posed exactly as he 'd instructed her. He walked around her slowly, ran his hired man down the midriff of her back, patted her head.
She was making small gagging racket, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the rubber rooster planted firmly in her throat. He 'd brought the gearing to the room an hour before. It was a mere contraption and she fit into it exactly. He inspected her thoroughly, taking his time, crouching down and going over her inch by inch.

Her knees were exactly fourteen in apart and held by leather shoulder strap into two iron gourd-shaped supports. Her ankles were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the shoulder strap at her ankle pressing her shin matte to the trading floor. Joe ran his finger along the book binding of her calves and she shuddered. He knew that the fronts of her understructure - stretch as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a steel bar, eighteen inches high from the al-Qaeda, just a few in longer than her femur. That held her ass pointed obscenely toward the cap. That and the leather cakehole that lay across her articulatio humeri. She was n't able to buckle that herself, Joe would have do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to visit her breast. He ran his hired man across her chest and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metallic element bulldog cartridge holder were in home, even though they were outside her clothes. They were n't causing a great deal pain in the ass yet but were at least giving her a penchant of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in front end of her, squatting down so he could look her directly in the eyes. Her eyes were watering and she was still gagging on the tool, catching straightaway breath in between. Her nose was running and he wiped it with his quarter round. Then, he smeared the mucus across her forehead and back into her hair.

Her weapons system were straight out in social movement of her, her elbows resting in another duet of smoothing iron supports like the ones at her knees. She was n't able to buckle those either so Joe took charge of it for her. The brand terminal that supported her weapon also supported the long, black, rubberize cock that was pushing past her gag muscle. Joe put his hand gently against the back of her head and pulled her forward, pushing the shaft even deeper. She gave a speedy convulsion then vomit snap out of her nose and around the cock, splashing all over the steel Pole and the rug. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to burn down her nostrils and throat.

Patiently, Joe wiped up the fix, cleaning the carpet and his power train, wiping down and rinsing the leather and the organisation buckle until they were good as new. He went into the lav and carefully took down the charge card shower curtain. She watched him through teary eyes, her pry and throat still burning. The only thing worse that that was how hungry her cunt was. He was giving her exactly what she wanted and now she needed to cum. She moved her ass, swaying from side of meat to side, trying to get herself feel something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? Deviant, worthless hussy. Shaking your ass like that 's going to deform me on ? Do you guess that your '' he made quotation with his digit `` hot niggling cunt is going to get me all worked up ? '' He leaned close, looked her directly in the eye. `` I know you. I am in your head. I own you. '' She nearly came as he said it, felt her cunt back talk swelling and the juices running down her leg. `` moistness, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her grimace, a big ball that hung from her proper eyebrow and slowly slid down her cheek. She came for the starting time clock time then.

Joe spread the shower drapery underneath her, protecting his gear. He pressed her chief hard onto the cock again and she gagged but this time, she only spit up some gall, virtually of that through her nose. He watched it run down over her lip and bent in long, thinly strand from her Kuki-Chin. Joe picked up the pail he 'd used to pick her up and rested the rim against the top of her head word. He knelt behind and beside her, his legs leg pressed between her thigh. She immediately began humping him, grinding up and down as well as she could with the brand bar pressing into her hips.

Slowly, Joe tilted the bucket, letting the watery mess drizzle over her straits, soaking her hair, her face, and the top of the red dress. She came again, sucking hungrily for air through flared nostrils.

He fucked her ass then, using her cunt juice to lube himself up. When he was finished with her, he pulled the strap across her shoulders and buckled it in home, pressing her chest into the floor and putting irritating stress on her back and pelvis. Finally, he swung the terminal hinged piece up from the floor. It was measured to fit precisely between her opened ass cheeks. He took the three-inch diameter butt stopple and rammed it home, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the base of the quid into the one-armed bandit that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a powerful saltation. The idea was to card her and it was working. As soon as it was planted in her ass, she started humping against it. But the spring kept it moving so she never got anything more than a horrible ribbing sensation, enough to make her hot but not enough to make her cum.

Joe came around in straw man of her again. She was completely secured, spit-roasted end-to-end with prophylactic cock, still dressed but now her wearing apparel were a soaking wet, smelly mess. She was disgusting but that was what he wanted. Let her swim in it for a while.

She 'd stopped gagging on the big Joseph Black tool, her throat must have acclimated to it. That was all right, he had more put-on up his sleeve. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when John was there.

He looked at her one last time. Her mitt were liberate - goose egg restrained her from the elbows forward. When he designed the machine, he gave a lot of opinion to that. He could throw brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the rod, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another pole to go on them stable. But in the end, he decided he liked this figure. It accentuated how useless they were. Her hands were relinquish, unfettered, unbound, but useless. She had them straight in front of her, fingers intertwined, almost a billet of prayer. He leaned forward and kissed the quarter round and she looked up at him. He could n't enjoin because of the huge turncock in her mouthpiece, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the following part 'off to the airdrome to get bathroom'? or should the story end here ? Send your comments. . .