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What The Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 6 free porn video
This is also posted in my Literotica Account. I retain copyright, and all that. Please enjoy, and reading the first chapters will help this chapter make a lot more sense! Enjoy!
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What the Hell am I Doing?- Ch.-6
I was awoken by Ben’s gently shaking my shoulder, my body so wracked with exhaustion, I had cried myself to sleep right there on the couch. Still wearing just the terry-cloth robe, I was a bit sore, and achy, and through puffy, blinking eyes, I looked up. “Hmm? Oh.. ahhh, I am so glad you are back! I’ve missed you! It has been a rough night! You wouldn’t…” My words were cut off by Ben’s.
“You think YOU’VE had a rough night? Slut, you ain’t been nearly what I’ve been through…” His voice was agitated, and angry, and worse, his language had deteriorated. He was using his ghetto-accent, one more of when he was younger. He’d tried to better himself, to rise up, so to speak, and had some successes. But when he backslid, it was a very telling moment. He was under considerable stress.
I started to rise and looked at the clock. It was nearly four AM. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, and went to him, to hug him, and reassure him, but as I did so, I felt his hands snap up and grab my wrists. Holding me in place, he looked me directly in the eyes. “You have a new job today… call in sick. You are going to spend the day with someone else.” His tone was flat, and his eyes cold. “Go get dressed in something hot, and wear your collar. You’ll need it.”
I nodded, and spoke quietly. “Yes, Master…” then reached for my cell phone, and sent two quick texts, one to my husband, and the other to my boss. I was ‘sick’ today. In these times, I knew better than to argue with him. I’d been smacked around for arguing with him before, and it sucked. So I went to the closet and drew on my champagne satin caftan. Only this wasn’t caftan like you would see in a catalogue. It was more like a cape, or cloak, with no openings, save for the neck. A full circle, over 140 inches in hemline, it stopped a few inches below my butt, and d****d easily from my shoulders, the material light and thin, silky and shiny, and in some lighting, was almost see-through. It had three snaps on one shoulder, to open enough to put my head through, and a man’s collar. I would normally flip the collar up, and then slid my slave collar around my neck, locking it closed, and then flip the collar back down, concealing most of it, with only the ring showing. It was an article of clothing I actually really enjoyed wearing. It afforded a minimum of modesty, and yet posed a lot of risk. If the wind caught it, or my arms reached for the wrong thing, it would expose me, possibly completely, up to the neck. It was sexy as hell, and it tended to draw a lot of attention. Dressed in heels and this, it screamed sexy. I reached into my bag and muttered softly. “Shit…”
“What?”
“My collar is in my car… I’ll go get it.” I replied.
“Don’t be long, woman. You leave soon. I’m gonna’ grab a shower.” And as I exited the room, wearing the first shoes I could reach, strappy stiletto heeled sandals, my caftan, and a smile, I heard the shower start. I shut the door, and just the split second it latched, I had that other ‘oh shit’ moment. I didn’t have my room key! I decided first things first and so I went and got my collar. I used the hide-a-key under the bumper, and popped the trunk open, having to bend over a bit as I searched for it. I heard one car drive by behind me, slowly, and no other sounds, but I am positive that my butt and modesty were showing, as the hemline wasn’t long enough to cover me when I bent over as I was. Score one for some stranger who got an eye-full! It did sort of turn me on, though, showing myself like that. I liked being a tease, and teasing I certainly was. I took the time, as I was bent over, to lift collar to my neck, and slide it around under the caftan, and I clicked it shut, locking it. There were three keys in existence. Ben had one, I had one on my car key ring, and I had one stashed in my jewelry box at home.
OK...back to the room, and finish getting ready. I knocked on the door, but Ben was still in the shower. I waited for maybe five minutes or more. I had to take stock. The clock was ticking. Going to the front counter again? I knew I had already pushed my luck with the hotel. I didn’t want to get asked to vacate. So that left me with only one option. Juan. God I hated that man… but now he was my only option. And I knew I needed to see him, since I needed my clothes back. I rolled my eyes, and uttered a soft grunt. Fate seemed against me. So I resigned myself to whatever I was about to be subjected to, knowing it couldn’t be any worse than what I’d experienced the night before.
I softly knocked on Juan’s door. It took a minute or two, and then he awoke, answering the door in a wife-beater tank-top, and silk boxers. His hair was a fright, his face needed a shave, and he needed a shower. My nose detected the scent of the sex from his body from last night. “What?” he fairly growled.
“I need my clothes…” I replied matter-of-factly. “May I have them? Please?”
He looked me up and down, and the contrast between us was complete. I was prettied up, clean, and smelled of vanilla and citrus perfume. He was everything but. However, he did flick on the light, and let me in. I saw my clothes wadded up on the small desk, and immediately went to reach for them. In reaching for them, the hem of my caftan lifted, and from the side, anyone looking might have been able to tell I was naked underneath. He snapped his hand out, and grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“What?” I asked him, looking somewhat surprised.
“You have to earn these… and we’re gonna’ play a game for them.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Look... enough of this bullshit, Juan… I need to get back.” I replied, testily.
“This is a five-minute game… and if you win, you get your clothes back. If you lose, you still get your clothes back, but I get something more… This will only take five minutes.”
I shook my head, knowing I was going to agree to this, but getting angry with myself, and angrier with Juan. “If you screw me over on this, I will find a way to cut your balls off, Juan. So you can’t populate the rest of the Earth with scum like you.” I was beyond angry, but he smiled a sickly-sweet grin.
“Dressed like that? Yeah, you’ll be licking my balls, first.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Whatever, Juan. What’s the game?”
“Simple, you stand in place… and I try and make you cum. If you can resist me for five minutes, then you get your clothes, and everything, and I won’t bother you. If you fail, you are going to suck my cock until I fill your stomach to the brim…”
I was so angry, it seemed more than doable, so I agreed. Then he reached for my clothes, actually behind them, and pulled out a set of handcuffs. They looked real enough and I started to back away. “Oh, no, Juan… I’m not doing this with you and me hooked together.”
He grunted. “You underestimate my fairness… I will only handcuff your wrists behind you. So you can’t cheat. And I will not use my hands, either.”
My sense of dread was building. The clock was ticking, and I was afraid Ben would be wondering where in the hell I was. So I agreed. I turned, placing my hands together behind me, the hem of my caftan floating widely as the soft material swayed with the motion. I heard the ratchet of the cuffs fasten my wrists together, and it pulled my shoulders back, accentuating my C-cup breasts, my shoulders pulled back to thrust them forward. The silky satin d****d from my shoulders, and my breasts, with two points hanging from my nipples, showing my body. I stood before him, and he knelt in front of me.
“Now remember... if you climax, or if your knees buckle, then I win.” He seemed pretty damn sure of himself. My eyes took in the clock on his nightstand. 4:25 AM. The clock was ticking.
I stood there, and looked at the clock. Anything to give me something to concentrate on, other than Juan’s attentions. He lifted the hem of my caftan, and stuck his head under it, placing his face so very close to my womanhood. It seemed he would take forever to get started, and then I felt it. He blew softly along my crotch, my landing strip feeling his breath as he focused on my petals and my clit. I was able to hold off any real feelings of pleasure, partly because of my anger, and partly because of my not being able to see him. But the not knowing also held a disadvantage, as it made me nervous. On top of it all, I was already moist, from getting my collar from my car. His breath was hot against my folds, and then I nearly jumped. His tongue probed my labia for my clit. I had a sharp intake of breath, as I looked at the clock. 4:26 am. Four more minutes to go.
I stretched my shoulders back against the cuffs, straining them, until I got some ache in my joints. Another distraction, as his tongue worked harder on my vagina. I managed to look down, and true to his word, his hands were behind him. But his face was very obviously planted at my sex, and he was lapping me for all I was worth. His tongue darted inside my petals, having opened my gates, and he was teasing me, licking along the fleshy folds of one side, before going down the other side, forming a loop. He repeated a number of times, until I mewed just as the clock turned 4:27. My heart was beating pretty hard now, and my nipples, already excited just from wearing the caftan, rose fully, the g****s on my melons providing a fruit salad for anyone who would sample them. I found out next that Juan liked fruit.
I felt his tongue lick upwards at my clit, and I mewed again, suckling in air through my teeth. My breath was coming harder, deep, slow breaths, in and out, trying to stay under control. He rose to his feet, and as he stood, his head was under my caftan still, and it rose with him, hanging from the back of his neck, exposing me. Then he licked my left nipple, and my head fell back on my neck, my long hair cascading down my back. I gasped as he nibbled it, the sensitive bud sending a stinger of teasing pleasure straight through me. My legs were starting to tremble. The clock turned 4:28.
I don’t know what is wrong with me. Maybe it was the way I was made, maybe it was the naughtiness of being defiled like this, maybe it was the humiliation of it all. But my lubrication was flowing now. Every breath was accompanied by a moan, a soft, deep utterance of pleasure. My whole body was trembling now, and my hips were undulating. Slow, sensuous gyrations that, had a man been against me, his cock would have been giving me a camel toe slide. Or possibly even managed to slide inside me. The very thought of the way Juan was manipulating me was further making me feel waves of pleasure. I was losing the battle, as the clock turned 4:29.
I lost track of what Juan was doing to me, other than it felt sooo good. As much as I despised the man, I had to give him credit. He could play me like a fiddle. And then he did something despicable. I felt his lips on my nipple, and then something touched my pussy. My eyes flew open. “No cheating, Juan!” I cried out.
“I’m not!” he replied sharply, breaking loose of my other nipple, and displaying both of his hands. Then I felt it again. His cock was pushing against my clit, and down my vagina, searching for my opening. He was going to try and fuck me. I was getting lost in this, now, the tension of his touch, the tension of being bound helplessly, and the tension of fighting the clock. He scuttled just a hair closer to me, and was humping my crotch, my lubrication coating his cock, as he lips attacked my neck. Teeth nibbled at my earlobe, and I squeaked, my knees nearly folding as he was teasing me from above and below. My heart was hammering, and my breath was coming in gasps. I was so close, I knew I was doomed. I could not help it, and I stopped fighting. I gave in to my body, and let it happen, and shortly after, I exploded, trying to pull my hands forward, straining the handcuffs, my hips trying to rotate to get his cock inside me, and my knees trying to widen to let his fat belly closer to me, so I could be impaled. I was defeated.
Then I looked at the clock. It was 4:32. Somehow, barely, I had resisted him, just long enough. “Juan! Stop!” I cried out, and took a step back, gasping for air. My caftan fell back into place, and he looked at the clock, his face falling in disappointment. Now I would know the true mettle of this creep. I was vulnerable, and I was trapped. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from r****g me. He looked back at me and smirked. He looked me over again, and then spoke.
“You aren’t dressed like this for me. You’ve got some catting around planned. That means someone will be looking for you…” He was reasoning this out as he talked. “Alright, cunt, take your clothes and get out. We both know who won here, in the end. You owe me.”
He then reached for my clothes, and started to d**** them over my handcuffed wrists. They fit easily enough under the caftan, but would hang lower, displaying the silky purple satin pants, and the creamy top. “Juan, take these damn things off!”
“Can’t…” he laughed. “I found these. I don’t have the key!”
“What?” I exclaimed. “You fucker! You tricked me!”
He smirked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Who gives a shit? I got what I wanted. I’ve beaten you twice in less than a day. And I’ll see you next month, where I’ll get to play more games with you again. Get out, slut, I need to sleep.”
He opened the door, and I left, walking a little wobbly on unsteady legs. My head was still a little buzzy, and my body recovering, having been forced to climax, and not fall. My heels echoed off of the walls as I walked, my hips swiveling in wide gyrations, and yet the only evidence of that was my soiled pants, dangling from my wrists. On the plus side, I had my room key back, it was in the pocket of my pants. On the downside, however, I couldn’t reach it, so I was still locked out. When I reached the room, I gently kicked the door, and was surprised when it flew open.
“Where the fuck you been, slut?” Ben fairly barked at me. “You’re late. Git in here!”
“I’m sorry, Ben... I was trying…” and I cut my words off. We weren’t alone. Leaning against the desk was a pair of black men, and they did not look happy.
The tallest one was really tall, like basketball-player tall. And dark. I didn’t think men got any darker than Ben, but they did, evidently. He was wearing jeans and a denim vest, with some patches on it. His friend, shorter, and flabby, was about as dark as Ben, with sloppy pants and wearing a similar vest, and dreadlocks. He was eyeing me lecherously, as Ben spoke to the tall guy.
“Here, take her.” Ben offered, handing out a leash. “24 hours is the deal. She puts out, and we’re good, right?” There was a lot of tension in the room.
“If she performs, yeah, I’ll square it.” The tall one now looked me over. “She looks like she’s got the body, I’ll give you that.” I was trying to dump my clothes from my handcuffs, so I could get some help, and wanted to speak up.
“Please... I need help, first…” was all I got out, before the tall one had simply reached out and clipped the leash to my collar.
“”Help, Bitch?” the tall one smirked. “Oh you are goan’ need help when we’d done. Help walkin’!” His friend laughed at the crude joke, and just kept looking at me. I had shed the clothes, and was now just possessing my caftan, collar, heels and handcuffs. I didn’t have a shred of anything else on me. I looked to Ben, my eyes pleading, and confused.
“Go with them, slut. And take care of them. Do a good job and everything will be righteous. But don’t fuckin’ say no!” His eyes were serious, and I was still confused. The look on my face was obvious, as the sloppy guy spoke for the first time.
“I hear you like makin’ babies, bitch. We gonna’ find out how much!”
The big man simply tugged on the leash and said “Let’s go. Time’s wastin’” and he opened the door, leading my out.
I didn’t want to go, and I hesitated, only to be given a sharp tug on my leash, making me stumble forward. My first instinct was to reach out, to protect myself from falling, but the handcuffs stopped me, and only a lucky step of my heel kept me upright. But the caftan revealed me, floating and flying as I was jerked, and the other black guy saw the whole picture from behind.
“Hey, she’s cuffed! She’s already wantin’ this!” he laughed again, and I cringed at how much noise they were making and what they were saying about me. It wasn’t quite 5:00 am, but the sky was beginning to lighten, and some travelers would be waking soon, if not already.
They led me out to the side parking lot, and the big guy had a motorcycle. There was a beat-up Honda next to it. The big man kicked the Harley to life, and was leaving, as I was put into the passenger seat of the Honda, the leash looped over the passenger grip above the door sill. Tied off, it prevented me from escaping. I was effectively loaned out... or traded, or maybe pimped? I didn’t know, but I was afraid of one thing. It was about to get rough, for the next 24 hours….
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What the Hell am I Doing?- Ch.-6
I was awoken by Ben’s gently shaking my shoulder, my body so wracked with exhaustion, I had cried myself to sleep right there on the couch. Still wearing just the terry-cloth robe, I was a bit sore, and achy, and through puffy, blinking eyes, I looked up. “Hmm? Oh.. ahhh, I am so glad you are back! I’ve missed you! It has been a rough night! You wouldn’t…” My words were cut off by Ben’s.
“You think YOU’VE had a rough night? Slut, you ain’t been nearly what I’ve been through…” His voice was agitated, and angry, and worse, his language had deteriorated. He was using his ghetto-accent, one more of when he was younger. He’d tried to better himself, to rise up, so to speak, and had some successes. But when he backslid, it was a very telling moment. He was under considerable stress.
I started to rise and looked at the clock. It was nearly four AM. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, and went to him, to hug him, and reassure him, but as I did so, I felt his hands snap up and grab my wrists. Holding me in place, he looked me directly in the eyes. “You have a new job today… call in sick. You are going to spend the day with someone else.” His tone was flat, and his eyes cold. “Go get dressed in something hot, and wear your collar. You’ll need it.”
I nodded, and spoke quietly. “Yes, Master…” then reached for my cell phone, and sent two quick texts, one to my husband, and the other to my boss. I was ‘sick’ today. In these times, I knew better than to argue with him. I’d been smacked around for arguing with him before, and it sucked. So I went to the closet and drew on my champagne satin caftan. Only this wasn’t caftan like you would see in a catalogue. It was more like a cape, or cloak, with no openings, save for the neck. A full circle, over 140 inches in hemline, it stopped a few inches below my butt, and d****d easily from my shoulders, the material light and thin, silky and shiny, and in some lighting, was almost see-through. It had three snaps on one shoulder, to open enough to put my head through, and a man’s collar. I would normally flip the collar up, and then slid my slave collar around my neck, locking it closed, and then flip the collar back down, concealing most of it, with only the ring showing. It was an article of clothing I actually really enjoyed wearing. It afforded a minimum of modesty, and yet posed a lot of risk. If the wind caught it, or my arms reached for the wrong thing, it would expose me, possibly completely, up to the neck. It was sexy as hell, and it tended to draw a lot of attention. Dressed in heels and this, it screamed sexy. I reached into my bag and muttered softly. “Shit…”
“What?”
“My collar is in my car… I’ll go get it.” I replied.
“Don’t be long, woman. You leave soon. I’m gonna’ grab a shower.” And as I exited the room, wearing the first shoes I could reach, strappy stiletto heeled sandals, my caftan, and a smile, I heard the shower start. I shut the door, and just the split second it latched, I had that other ‘oh shit’ moment. I didn’t have my room key! I decided first things first and so I went and got my collar. I used the hide-a-key under the bumper, and popped the trunk open, having to bend over a bit as I searched for it. I heard one car drive by behind me, slowly, and no other sounds, but I am positive that my butt and modesty were showing, as the hemline wasn’t long enough to cover me when I bent over as I was. Score one for some stranger who got an eye-full! It did sort of turn me on, though, showing myself like that. I liked being a tease, and teasing I certainly was. I took the time, as I was bent over, to lift collar to my neck, and slide it around under the caftan, and I clicked it shut, locking it. There were three keys in existence. Ben had one, I had one on my car key ring, and I had one stashed in my jewelry box at home.
OK...back to the room, and finish getting ready. I knocked on the door, but Ben was still in the shower. I waited for maybe five minutes or more. I had to take stock. The clock was ticking. Going to the front counter again? I knew I had already pushed my luck with the hotel. I didn’t want to get asked to vacate. So that left me with only one option. Juan. God I hated that man… but now he was my only option. And I knew I needed to see him, since I needed my clothes back. I rolled my eyes, and uttered a soft grunt. Fate seemed against me. So I resigned myself to whatever I was about to be subjected to, knowing it couldn’t be any worse than what I’d experienced the night before.
I softly knocked on Juan’s door. It took a minute or two, and then he awoke, answering the door in a wife-beater tank-top, and silk boxers. His hair was a fright, his face needed a shave, and he needed a shower. My nose detected the scent of the sex from his body from last night. “What?” he fairly growled.
“I need my clothes…” I replied matter-of-factly. “May I have them? Please?”
He looked me up and down, and the contrast between us was complete. I was prettied up, clean, and smelled of vanilla and citrus perfume. He was everything but. However, he did flick on the light, and let me in. I saw my clothes wadded up on the small desk, and immediately went to reach for them. In reaching for them, the hem of my caftan lifted, and from the side, anyone looking might have been able to tell I was naked underneath. He snapped his hand out, and grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“What?” I asked him, looking somewhat surprised.
“You have to earn these… and we’re gonna’ play a game for them.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Look... enough of this bullshit, Juan… I need to get back.” I replied, testily.
“This is a five-minute game… and if you win, you get your clothes back. If you lose, you still get your clothes back, but I get something more… This will only take five minutes.”
I shook my head, knowing I was going to agree to this, but getting angry with myself, and angrier with Juan. “If you screw me over on this, I will find a way to cut your balls off, Juan. So you can’t populate the rest of the Earth with scum like you.” I was beyond angry, but he smiled a sickly-sweet grin.
“Dressed like that? Yeah, you’ll be licking my balls, first.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Whatever, Juan. What’s the game?”
“Simple, you stand in place… and I try and make you cum. If you can resist me for five minutes, then you get your clothes, and everything, and I won’t bother you. If you fail, you are going to suck my cock until I fill your stomach to the brim…”
I was so angry, it seemed more than doable, so I agreed. Then he reached for my clothes, actually behind them, and pulled out a set of handcuffs. They looked real enough and I started to back away. “Oh, no, Juan… I’m not doing this with you and me hooked together.”
He grunted. “You underestimate my fairness… I will only handcuff your wrists behind you. So you can’t cheat. And I will not use my hands, either.”
My sense of dread was building. The clock was ticking, and I was afraid Ben would be wondering where in the hell I was. So I agreed. I turned, placing my hands together behind me, the hem of my caftan floating widely as the soft material swayed with the motion. I heard the ratchet of the cuffs fasten my wrists together, and it pulled my shoulders back, accentuating my C-cup breasts, my shoulders pulled back to thrust them forward. The silky satin d****d from my shoulders, and my breasts, with two points hanging from my nipples, showing my body. I stood before him, and he knelt in front of me.
“Now remember... if you climax, or if your knees buckle, then I win.” He seemed pretty damn sure of himself. My eyes took in the clock on his nightstand. 4:25 AM. The clock was ticking.
I stood there, and looked at the clock. Anything to give me something to concentrate on, other than Juan’s attentions. He lifted the hem of my caftan, and stuck his head under it, placing his face so very close to my womanhood. It seemed he would take forever to get started, and then I felt it. He blew softly along my crotch, my landing strip feeling his breath as he focused on my petals and my clit. I was able to hold off any real feelings of pleasure, partly because of my anger, and partly because of my not being able to see him. But the not knowing also held a disadvantage, as it made me nervous. On top of it all, I was already moist, from getting my collar from my car. His breath was hot against my folds, and then I nearly jumped. His tongue probed my labia for my clit. I had a sharp intake of breath, as I looked at the clock. 4:26 am. Four more minutes to go.
I stretched my shoulders back against the cuffs, straining them, until I got some ache in my joints. Another distraction, as his tongue worked harder on my vagina. I managed to look down, and true to his word, his hands were behind him. But his face was very obviously planted at my sex, and he was lapping me for all I was worth. His tongue darted inside my petals, having opened my gates, and he was teasing me, licking along the fleshy folds of one side, before going down the other side, forming a loop. He repeated a number of times, until I mewed just as the clock turned 4:27. My heart was beating pretty hard now, and my nipples, already excited just from wearing the caftan, rose fully, the g****s on my melons providing a fruit salad for anyone who would sample them. I found out next that Juan liked fruit.
I felt his tongue lick upwards at my clit, and I mewed again, suckling in air through my teeth. My breath was coming harder, deep, slow breaths, in and out, trying to stay under control. He rose to his feet, and as he stood, his head was under my caftan still, and it rose with him, hanging from the back of his neck, exposing me. Then he licked my left nipple, and my head fell back on my neck, my long hair cascading down my back. I gasped as he nibbled it, the sensitive bud sending a stinger of teasing pleasure straight through me. My legs were starting to tremble. The clock turned 4:28.
I don’t know what is wrong with me. Maybe it was the way I was made, maybe it was the naughtiness of being defiled like this, maybe it was the humiliation of it all. But my lubrication was flowing now. Every breath was accompanied by a moan, a soft, deep utterance of pleasure. My whole body was trembling now, and my hips were undulating. Slow, sensuous gyrations that, had a man been against me, his cock would have been giving me a camel toe slide. Or possibly even managed to slide inside me. The very thought of the way Juan was manipulating me was further making me feel waves of pleasure. I was losing the battle, as the clock turned 4:29.
I lost track of what Juan was doing to me, other than it felt sooo good. As much as I despised the man, I had to give him credit. He could play me like a fiddle. And then he did something despicable. I felt his lips on my nipple, and then something touched my pussy. My eyes flew open. “No cheating, Juan!” I cried out.
“I’m not!” he replied sharply, breaking loose of my other nipple, and displaying both of his hands. Then I felt it again. His cock was pushing against my clit, and down my vagina, searching for my opening. He was going to try and fuck me. I was getting lost in this, now, the tension of his touch, the tension of being bound helplessly, and the tension of fighting the clock. He scuttled just a hair closer to me, and was humping my crotch, my lubrication coating his cock, as he lips attacked my neck. Teeth nibbled at my earlobe, and I squeaked, my knees nearly folding as he was teasing me from above and below. My heart was hammering, and my breath was coming in gasps. I was so close, I knew I was doomed. I could not help it, and I stopped fighting. I gave in to my body, and let it happen, and shortly after, I exploded, trying to pull my hands forward, straining the handcuffs, my hips trying to rotate to get his cock inside me, and my knees trying to widen to let his fat belly closer to me, so I could be impaled. I was defeated.
Then I looked at the clock. It was 4:32. Somehow, barely, I had resisted him, just long enough. “Juan! Stop!” I cried out, and took a step back, gasping for air. My caftan fell back into place, and he looked at the clock, his face falling in disappointment. Now I would know the true mettle of this creep. I was vulnerable, and I was trapped. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from r****g me. He looked back at me and smirked. He looked me over again, and then spoke.
“You aren’t dressed like this for me. You’ve got some catting around planned. That means someone will be looking for you…” He was reasoning this out as he talked. “Alright, cunt, take your clothes and get out. We both know who won here, in the end. You owe me.”
He then reached for my clothes, and started to d**** them over my handcuffed wrists. They fit easily enough under the caftan, but would hang lower, displaying the silky purple satin pants, and the creamy top. “Juan, take these damn things off!”
“Can’t…” he laughed. “I found these. I don’t have the key!”
“What?” I exclaimed. “You fucker! You tricked me!”
He smirked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Who gives a shit? I got what I wanted. I’ve beaten you twice in less than a day. And I’ll see you next month, where I’ll get to play more games with you again. Get out, slut, I need to sleep.”
He opened the door, and I left, walking a little wobbly on unsteady legs. My head was still a little buzzy, and my body recovering, having been forced to climax, and not fall. My heels echoed off of the walls as I walked, my hips swiveling in wide gyrations, and yet the only evidence of that was my soiled pants, dangling from my wrists. On the plus side, I had my room key back, it was in the pocket of my pants. On the downside, however, I couldn’t reach it, so I was still locked out. When I reached the room, I gently kicked the door, and was surprised when it flew open.
“Where the fuck you been, slut?” Ben fairly barked at me. “You’re late. Git in here!”
“I’m sorry, Ben... I was trying…” and I cut my words off. We weren’t alone. Leaning against the desk was a pair of black men, and they did not look happy.
The tallest one was really tall, like basketball-player tall. And dark. I didn’t think men got any darker than Ben, but they did, evidently. He was wearing jeans and a denim vest, with some patches on it. His friend, shorter, and flabby, was about as dark as Ben, with sloppy pants and wearing a similar vest, and dreadlocks. He was eyeing me lecherously, as Ben spoke to the tall guy.
“Here, take her.” Ben offered, handing out a leash. “24 hours is the deal. She puts out, and we’re good, right?” There was a lot of tension in the room.
“If she performs, yeah, I’ll square it.” The tall one now looked me over. “She looks like she’s got the body, I’ll give you that.” I was trying to dump my clothes from my handcuffs, so I could get some help, and wanted to speak up.
“Please... I need help, first…” was all I got out, before the tall one had simply reached out and clipped the leash to my collar.
“”Help, Bitch?” the tall one smirked. “Oh you are goan’ need help when we’d done. Help walkin’!” His friend laughed at the crude joke, and just kept looking at me. I had shed the clothes, and was now just possessing my caftan, collar, heels and handcuffs. I didn’t have a shred of anything else on me. I looked to Ben, my eyes pleading, and confused.
“Go with them, slut. And take care of them. Do a good job and everything will be righteous. But don’t fuckin’ say no!” His eyes were serious, and I was still confused. The look on my face was obvious, as the sloppy guy spoke for the first time.
“I hear you like makin’ babies, bitch. We gonna’ find out how much!”
The big man simply tugged on the leash and said “Let’s go. Time’s wastin’” and he opened the door, leading my out.
I didn’t want to go, and I hesitated, only to be given a sharp tug on my leash, making me stumble forward. My first instinct was to reach out, to protect myself from falling, but the handcuffs stopped me, and only a lucky step of my heel kept me upright. But the caftan revealed me, floating and flying as I was jerked, and the other black guy saw the whole picture from behind.
“Hey, she’s cuffed! She’s already wantin’ this!” he laughed again, and I cringed at how much noise they were making and what they were saying about me. It wasn’t quite 5:00 am, but the sky was beginning to lighten, and some travelers would be waking soon, if not already.
They led me out to the side parking lot, and the big guy had a motorcycle. There was a beat-up Honda next to it. The big man kicked the Harley to life, and was leaving, as I was put into the passenger seat of the Honda, the leash looped over the passenger grip above the door sill. Tied off, it prevented me from escaping. I was effectively loaned out... or traded, or maybe pimped? I didn’t know, but I was afraid of one thing. It was about to get rough, for the next 24 hours….
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