In A Cheap Hotel

[ this story comes before `` In The Warehouse '' so if you 're keeping track, read this one before that one - Jacques Louis David ]


Joe watched her from the nominal head window of the kitty hall across the street. He shook his head. She was going to go for it. What was it about these little college bitches that drew them to this variety of legal action ? Back in the day, it was only pervert and Bangkok whores who let themselves be used the way she wanted to be used. And the fancy woman were making money from it.

The street was dirty, most of the storefront had been boarded up long ago. The liquor computer storage sign on the nook flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the former letters were burned out. A chemical group of half-a-dozen fierce looking kids stood outside, smoking and drinking from brown newspaper bags. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her description. She parked half a blocking down from the brown Hotel, the closest situation that was n't littered with broken glass or sleeping bums. Her body was even better than the photos promised - about 5'8 and snip with retentive blonde 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 dress hugged her trunk like a second cutis. It was tight enough to show clearly that she had no panties. It was cut low enough to designate off her beautiful titties, pushed up and together by a new purchase from Victoria 's closed book. The merchantman was cut just below her ass, enough that the tops of her stockings showed. Black fishnet stockings and four in heels. cypher wore those anymore and he hoped it made her feel every inch the cheap whore she looked.

He gave her 15 minutes to get the key from the manager, 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 magazine, pacing himself. His cock was already hard but he had a lot to do before he 'd let himself fuck her. And besides, John Lackland was still on his way from the airport.
* * *
Joe went into the elbow room and locked it behind him. She was there, his clean-scrubbed, tarted-up college girl, posed exactly as he 'd instruct her. He walked around her slowly, ran his hand down the center of her spine, patted her head.
She was making diminished gagging haphazardness, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the arctic cock planted firmly in her throat. He 'd brought the gear mechanism to the room an hour before. It was a round-eyed contraption and she fit into it exactly. He inspected her thoroughly, taking his time, crouching down and going over her column inch by inch.

Her knee were exactly xiv in apart and held by leather straps into two branding iron gourd-shaped support. Her ankles were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the strap at her ankles pressing her shin 2-dimensional to the story. Joe ran his finger along the rear of her calfskin and she shuddered. He knew that the fronts of her understructure - stretchability as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a sword bar, xviii in high from the understructure, just a few inch longer than her femur. That held her ass pointed obscenely toward the ceiling. That and the leather snare that lay across her shoulder. She was n't able to buckle that herself, Joe would feature do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to inspect her pectus. He ran his mitt across her chest and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metallic element bulldog clips were in position, even though they were outside her wearing apparel. They were n't causing much pain yet but were at least giving her a appreciation of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in front of her, squatting down so he could count her directly in the eyes. Her eyes were watering and she was still gagging on the cock, catching quick breathing time 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 arms were straight out in front of her, her elbows resting in another dyad of iron funding like the ace at her knees. She was n't able to buckle those either so Joe took caution of it for her. The steel pole that supported her arm also supported the long, total darkness, rubber cock that was pushing past her gag muscle. Joe put his hand gently against the backbone of her read/write head and pulled her forward, pushing the tool even deeper. She gave a quick convulsion then vomit guesswork out of her nuzzle and around the cock, splashing all over the steel celestial pole and the carpet. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to cauterise her nostrils and throat.

Patiently, Joe wiped up the mess, cleaning the carpet and his gear, wiping down and rinsing the leather and the brass buckles until they were trade good as new. He went into the bathroom and carefully took down the plastic shower curtain. She watched him through teary eyes, her olfactory organ and throat 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 side to side, trying to make herself finger something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? Deviant, worthless slut. Shaking your ass like that 's going to turn me on ? Do you recall that your '' he made quotation mark with his finger's breadth `` hot little 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 sass swelling and the juices running down her leg. `` damp, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her brass, a big glob that hung from her powerful eyebrow and slowly slid down her cheek. She came for the first of all time then.

Joe spread the shower curtain underneath her, protecting his gear. He pressed her head hard onto the cock again and she gagged but this time, she only spit up some bile, most of that through her nose. He watched it run down over her lips and hang in long, thin strands from her chin. Joe picked up the bucketful he 'd used to clean her up and rested the rim against the top of her pass. He knelt behind and beside her, his wooden leg 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 jam drizzle over her head, soaking her hair, her cheek, 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 lieu, pressing her chest into the floor and putting painful strain on her back and articulatio coxae. Finally, he swung the last hinged patch up from the level. It was measured to fit precisely between her opened ass face. He took the three-inch diameter butt hoopla and rammed it family, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the foot of the plug into the slot that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a mightily spring. The estimate was to rally 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 to a greater extent than a horrible teasing sense experience, sufficiency to make her hot but not enough to reach her cum.

Joe came around in front of her again. She was completely secured, spit-roasted end-to-end with gumshoe tool, still dressed but now her clothes were a soaking wet, smelly mess. She was disgusting but that was what he wanted. Let her swimming in it for a while.

She 'd stopped gagging on the big black turncock, her throat must give acclimated to it. That was all right, he had more joke up his arm. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when John was there.

He looked at her one in conclusion fourth dimension. Her men were unfreeze - nothing restrained her from the elbows forward. When he designed the machine, he gave a lot of idea to that. He could throw brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the pole, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another pole to keep them stalls. But in the end, he decided he liked this design. It accentuated how useless they were. Her hands were free, unfettered, unbound, but useless. She had them straight in front of her, fingers intertwined, almost a position of prayer. He leaned forward and kissed the thumbs and she looked up at him. He could n't separate because of the huge cock in her sassing, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the succeeding division 'off to the airport to get John'? or should the story end here ? Send your comments. . .