In A Cheap Hotel

[ this narration comes before `` In The warehouse '' so if you 're keeping track, understand this one before that one - Saint David ]


Joe watched her from the front windowpane of the pool hall across the street. He shook his forefront. She was going to go for it. What was it about these little college bitches that drew them to this kind of military action ? Back in the day, it was only perverts 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, well-nigh of the storefronts had been boarded up long ago. The liquor store sign on the box flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the early varsity letter were burned out. A group of half-a-dozen grating looking youngster stood outside, smoking and boozing from embrown theme bags. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her description. She parked half a engine block down from the Robert Brown Hotel, the closest fleck that was n't littered with kick downstairs deoxyephedrine or sleeping bums. Her soundbox was even full than the exposure promised - about 5'8 and trim with long blond hair. He smiled. She was a brunette but he told her to dye it blonde or do n't bother showing up. The shiny red attire hugged her organic structure like a indorsement tegument. It was tight enough to show clearly that she had no panties. It was cut low enough to bear witness off her beautiful titties, pushed up and together by a new leverage from Victoria 's mystery. The bottom was cut just below her ass, enough that the tiptop of her stockings showed. Black fishing net stockings and four inch heels. Nobody wore those anymore and he hoped it made her feel every inch the cheap whore she looked.

He gave her XV hour to get the key from the coach, pay him for the elbow room ( he was n't going to waste his money ), and go upstairs and get into position. Joe sat down and thumbed through a powder store, pacing himself. His cock was already hard but he had a lot to do before he 'd let himself have a go at it her. And besides, toilet was still on his way from the airport.
* * *
Joe went into the room and locked it behind him. She was there, his clean-scrubbed, tarted-up college young woman, posed exactly as he 'd instructed her. He walked around her slowly, ran his hand down the middle of her cover, patted her head.
She was making belittled gagging noises, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the India rubber cock planted firmly in her throat. He 'd brought the gear to the room an hour before. It was a simple gizmo and she fit into it exactly. He inspected her thoroughly, taking his clip, crouching down and going over her column inch by inch.

Her knees were exactly fourteen inch apart and held by leather straps into two iron gourd-shaped supports. Her ankles were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the strap at her ankle pressing her shinbone flat to the floor. Joe ran his finger along the backs of her calves and she shuddered. He knew that the straw man of her foot - stretch as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a steel bar, eighteen inches high from the base, just a few inches longer than her femur. That held her ass pointed obscenely toward the ceiling. That and the leather sand trap that lay across her shoulders. She was n't able to clasp that herself, Joe would receive do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to inspect her chest. He ran his script across her chest and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metal bulldog clip were in place, even though they were away her dress. They were n't causing often pain in the neck yet but were at least giving her a tasting of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in presence of her, squatting down so he could attend her directly in the eyes. Her middle were watering and she was still gagging on the cock, catching spry breaths in between. Her nozzle was running and he wiped it with his ovolo. Then, he smeared the mucus across her frontal bone and back into her hair.

Her limb were straight out in front of her, her elbows resting in another duad of atomic number 26 supports like the I at her knee. She was n't able to heave those either so Joe took tutelage of it for her. The steel pole that supported her arms also supported the foresighted, shameful, rubberize cock that was pushing past her gag muscular tissue. Joe put his hand gently against the backrest of her promontory and pulled her forward, pushing the hammer even deeper. She gave a quick paroxysm then cast shot out of her horn in and around the cock, splashing all over the steel pole and the carpet. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to bite her anterior naris and throat.

Patiently, Joe wiped up the plenty, cleaning the carpet and his gear, wiping down and rinsing the leather and the brass buckles until they were good as new. He went into the bathroom and carefully took down the plastic shower curtain. She watched him through teary eyes, her nose and pharynx still burning. The solitary 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 slope to side, trying to reach herself feel something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? Deviant, worthless jade. Shaking your ass like that 's going to turn me on ? Do you think that your '' he made quotes with his digit `` hot petty twat is going to get me all worked up ? '' He leaned close, looked her directly in the eye. `` I know you. I am in your nous. I own you. '' She nearly came as he said it, felt her twat lips swelling and the juice running down her leg. `` dampness, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her case, a big glob that hung from her right eyebrow and slowly slid down her boldness. She came for the showtime meter then.

Joe spread the shower drape underneath her, protecting his gear. He pressed her head hard onto the cock again and she gagged but this sentence, she only spit up some bile, to the highest degree of that through her nozzle. He watched it run down over her sass and hang in long, slender Strand from her chin. Joe picked up the pail he 'd used to clean her up and rested the rim against the top of her read/write head. He knelt behind and beside her, his stage leg pressed between her second joint. She immediately began humping him, grinding up and down as well as she could with the steel bar pressing into her hips.

Slowly, Joe tilted the bucket, letting the watery kettle of fish mizzle over her head, soaking her hair, her face, and the top of the red attire. She came again, sucking hungrily for air through flared nostrils.

He fucked her ass then, using her twat succus to lube himself up. When he was finished with her, he pulled the strap across her articulatio humeri and buckled it in plaza, pressing her breast into the floor and putting painful stress on her back and hips. Finally, he swung the last hinged piece up from the flooring. It was measured to fit precisely between her opened ass buttock. He took the three-inch diameter goat chaw and rammed it home, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the floor of the plug into the time slot that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a potent spring. The idea was to bug her and it was working. As soon as it was planted in her ass, she started humping against it. But the bounce kept it moving so she never got anything more than a horrible tease sensation, enough to make her hot but not enough to make her cum.

Joe came around in front of her again. She was completely secured, spit-roasted end-to-end with rubber cock, still dressed but now her dress 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 contraband pecker, her throat must accept acclimated to it. That was all rightfulness, he had more conjuring trick up his arm. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when Saint John was there.

He looked at her one stopping point time. Her helping hand were free - nothing restrained her from the cubital joint forward. When he designed the machine, he gave a lot of sentiment to that. He could have brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the pole, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another rod to continue them stable. But in the end, he decided he liked this innovation. It accentuated how useless they were. Her deal were relinquish, untied, unbound, but useless. She had them straight in front of her, digit intertwined, almost a position of entreaty. He leaned forward and kissed the thumbs and she looked up at him. He could n't tell because of the huge shaft in her lip, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the next part 'off to the airport to get toilet'? or should the story end here ? Send your comments. . .