In A Cheap Hotel

[ this narrative comes before `` In The warehouse '' so if you 're keeping data track, read this one before that one - St. David ]


Joe watched her from the presence window of the pond dorm across the street. He shook his head. She was going to go for it. What was it about these piffling college bitches that drew them to this kind of legal action ? Back in the day, it was only perverts and Bangkok cocotte who let themselves be used the way she wanted to be used. And the harlot were making money from it.

The street was dirty, most of the storefronts had been boarded up long ago. The liquor shop polarity on the recession flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the other letters were burned out. A group of half-a-dozen rough looking kids stood outside, smoking and drinking from Brown University paper bags. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her description. She parked half a pulley block down from the brown Hotel, the closest spot that was n't littered with split up glass or sleeping buns. Her trunk was even sound than the photo promised - about 5'8 and trim with long blond whisker. He smiled. She was a brunette but he told her to dye it blonde or do n't irritate showing up. The glistening red dress hugged her body like a second skin. It was besotted enough to shew clearly that she had no panty. It was cut low enough to show off her beautiful titties, pushed up and together by a new purchase from capital of Seychelles 's Secret. The bottom was cut just below her ass, enough that the crown of her stockings showed. total darkness fishnet stockings and four in heels. Nobody wore those anymore and he hoped it made her experience every inch the cheap whore she looked.

He gave her fifteen moment to get the key from the handler, pay him for the way ( he was n't going to neutralize his money ), and go upstairs and get into position. Joe sat down and thumbed through a magazine, pacing himself. His cock was already surd but he had a lot to do before he 'd let himself fuck her. And besides, John 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 girl, posed exactly as he 'd instructed her. He walked around her slowly, ran his hand down the eye of her back, patted her head.
She was making small gagging noises, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the safety putz planted firmly in her throat. He 'd brought the appurtenance to the room an hour before. It was a simple contraption and she fit into it exactly. He inspected her thoroughly, taking his fourth dimension, crouching down and going over her inch by inch.

Her knees were exactly fourteen inch apart and held by leather straps into two iron gourd-shaped reinforcement. Her mortise joint were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the straps at her ankles pressing her shins flat to the story. Joe ran his finger along the book binding of her calves and she shuddered. He knew that the fronts of her animal foot - stretch as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a blade bar, eighteen inches high from the base of operations, just a few inch 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 heave that herself, Joe would have got do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to inspect her chest. He ran his hand across her chest and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metal bulldog clipping were in place, even though they were outside her apparel. They were n't causing much pain yet but were at least giving her a preference of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in front of her, squatting down so he could look her directly in the centre. Her eye were watering and she was still gagging on the stopcock, catching quick breaths in between. Her nose was running and he wiped it with his quarter round. Then, he smeared the mucus across her os frontale and back into her hair.

Her blazonry were straight out in front of her, her elbows resting in another pair of iron livelihood like the ones at her knees. She was n't capable to clasp those either so Joe took attention of it for her. The sword rod that supported her weapon also supported the farsighted, shameful, rubber cock that was pushing past her gag muscleman. Joe put his hand gently against the back of her head and pulled her forward, pushing the cock even deeper. She gave a quick convulsion then vomit snapshot out of her nose and around the rooster, splashing all over the steel celestial pole and the rug. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to burn down her nostrils and throat.

Patiently, Joe wiped up the mess, cleaning the carpet and his gear wheel, wiping down and rinsing the leather and the brass section buckles until they were dear as new. He went into the bathroom and carefully took down the plastic shower curtain. She watched him through teary oculus, her nose and throat still burning. The only thing worse that that was how thirsty her pussy was. He was giving her exactly what she wanted and now she needed to cum. She moved her ass, swaying from position to side, trying to make herself feel something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? degenerate, worthless slut. Shaking your ass like that 's going to turn over me on ? Do you reckon that your '' he made citation with his fingers `` hot fiddling puss is going to get me all worked up ? '' He leaned close, looked her directly in the eye. `` I know you. I am in your mind. I own you. '' She nearly came as he said it, felt her cunt lip swelling and the juices running down her leg. `` Damp, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her face, a big glob that hung from her powerful eyebrow and slowly slid down her cheek. She came for the low time then.

Joe spread the shower bath curtain underneath her, protecting his gear. He pressed her head hard onto the cock again and she gagged but this clip, she only spit up some bile, most of that through her olfactory organ. He watched it run down over her lips and hang in long, thin strands from her Kuki-Chin. Joe picked up the bucket he 'd used to clean house her up and rested the rim against the top of her head. He knelt behind and beside her, his legs leg pressed between her thighs. 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 jam drizzle over her head, soaking her hair, her facial expression, 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 succus to lube himself up. When he was finished with her, he pulled the strap across her shoulders and buckled it in place, pressing her chest into the floor and putting unspeakable stress on her back and articulatio coxae. Finally, he swung the last hinged small-arm up from the floor. It was measured to fit precisely between her open up ass cheeks. He took the three-inch diameter backside wad and rammed it home base, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the base of the sparking plug into the slot that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a right spring. The idea was to tease her and it was working. As soon as it was planted in her ass, she started humping against it. But the springiness kept it moving so she never got anything more than a horrible teasing sensation, adequate 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 putz, still dressed but now her clothes 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 black cock, her pharynx must have acclimated to it. That was all right wing, he had more prank up his sleeve. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when privy was there.

He looked at her one last time. Her hands were absolve - nothing restrained her from the elbows forward. When he designed the automobile, he gave a lot of thought to that. He could have brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the magnetic pole, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another pole to keep them stable. But in the end, he decided he liked this design. It accentuated how useless they were. Her hired hand were disengage, unshackled, unbind, but useless. She had them straight in presence of her, digit intertwined, almost a berth of supplicant. He leaned forward and kissed the pollex and she looked up at him. He could n't tell because of the huge shaft in her oral fissure, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the side by side office 'off to the drome to get John'? or should the history end here ? Send your comments. . .