In A Cheap Hotel

[ this story comes before `` In The warehouse '' so if you 're keeping rail, read this one before that one - David ]


Joe watched her from the presence windowpane of the kitty hall across the street. He shook his chief. She was going to go for it. What was it about these small college bitch that drew them to this kind of natural action ? Back in the day, it was only perverts and Bangkok prostitute 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 storefronts had been boarded up long ago. The pot liquor store sign on the nook flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the other letter of the alphabet were burned out. A group of half-a-dozen rough looking kids stood out-of-door, smoking and drunkenness from brown newspaper old bag. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her description. She parked half a block down from the Brown Hotel, the closest spot that was n't littered with fall in glass or sleeping bums. Her body was even upright than the photos promised - about 5'8 and dress with hanker blond hair. 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 nasty enough to show clearly that she had no scanty. It was cut low enough to establish off her beautiful titty, pushed up and together by a new purchase from Queen Victoria 's arcanum. The bottom was cut just below her ass, enough that the tip of her stockings showed. Joseph Black fishnet 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 fifteen minutes to get the key from the manager, pay him for the room ( he was n't going to ware his money ), and go upstairs and get into position. Joe sat down and thumbed through a cartridge clip, pacing himself. His stopcock was already unvoiced 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 instruct her. He walked around her slowly, ran his paw down the middle of her vertebral column, patted her head.
She was making lowly gagging noises, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the natural rubber tool planted firmly in her throat. He 'd take the gearing to the room an hour before. It was a simple 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 xiv inches apart and held by leather strap into two smoothing iron gourd-shaped supports. Her ankles were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the straps at her mortise joint pressing her shins flat to the floor. Joe ran his finger along the book binding of her calfskin and she shuddered. He knew that the nominal head of her pes - stretch as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a sword bar, eighteen inches high from the base, just a few column inch longer than her femoris. 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 have do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to inspect her breast. He ran his hand across her bureau and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metal English bulldog clips were in topographic point, even though they were outside her garb. They were n't causing much pain yet but were at least giving her a sense of taste of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in front of her, squatting down so he could expect her directly in the center. Her eyes were watering and she was still gagging on the hammer, catching quick breathing time in between. Her nose was running and he wiped it with his thumb. Then, he smeared the mucus across her forehead and back into her hair.

Her blazonry were straight out in front of her, her elbows resting in another brace of iron accompaniment like the ones at her knee joint. She was n't able to clasp those either so Joe took care of it for her. The steel pole that supported her weaponry also supported the long, melanise, rubber cock that was pushing past her gag brawn. Joe put his hand gently against the spine of her head and pulled her forward, pushing the prick even deeper. She gave a prompt turmoil then vomit shot out of her pry and around the cock, splashing all over the blade pole and the carpet. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to burn 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 buckle until they were just as new. He went into the lavatory and carefully took down the plastic shower pall. She watched him through teary-eyed eye, her intrude and throat still burning. The lonesome matter worse that that was how hungry her bitch 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 feel something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? deviant, worthless strumpet. Shaking your ass like that 's going to rick me on ? Do you recollect that your '' he made quotes with his fingers `` hot slight pussy 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 puss backtalk swelling and the juices running down her leg. `` dampness, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her nerve, a big lump that hung from her veracious eyebrow and slowly slid down her cheek. She came for the first gear time then.

Joe spread the shower pall underneath her, protecting his appurtenance. He pressed her brain hard onto the hammer again and she gagged but this metre, she only spit up some bile, most of that through her nozzle. He watched it run down over her lips and knack in long, thin string from her Kuki. Joe picked up the bucket he 'd used to strip 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 steel bar pressing into her hips.

Slowly, Joe tilted the bucket, letting the watery mess drizzle over her head, soaking her fuzz, her boldness, 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 plaza, pressing her thorax into the storey and putting terrible stress on her back and hips. Finally, he swung the finally hinged composition up from the floor. It was measured to fit precisely between her opened ass buttock. He took the three-inch diam hindquarters plug and rammed it home, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the fundament of the ballyhoo into the slot that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a mighty give. 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 give kept it moving so she never got anything Thomas More than a atrocious teasing sensation, enough to make her hot but not enough to make her cum.

Joe came around in nominal head of her again. She was completely secured, spit-roasted end-to-end with gum elastic dick, 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 stopcock, her throat must take in acclimated to it. That was all right hand, he had more tricks up his sleeve. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when John was there.

He looked at her one last meter. Her hands were barren - nothing restrained her from the elbows forward. When he designed the simple machine, he gave a lot of view to that. He could have brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the celestial pole, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another perch to go along them stable. 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, fingerbreadth intertwined, almost a locating of supplication. He leaned forward and kissed the thumbs and she looked up at him. He could n't tell because of the huge tool in her sass, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the next part 'off to the airport to get John'? or should the fib end here ? beam your comments. . .