Christal Persursion Chapter 2a Filet His Prick
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Christal Persuasion: Ch 3_Where Are The Clowns? free porn video
If you haven’t already, I would suggest reading Chapters 1 and 2 of Christal Perusasion.
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I didn’t do it right away, had to swap shifts at the ER, claim a fami1y emergency to get time off. Then it’d taken another few days trolling the places “prick filet” had recommended. But we did discover the older man’s home base.
During the hunt, Alex had told me more about Petra. Her life had been even harder than Alex’s growing up on the streets. Yet even after so many years of abuse and hardship, Petra had also managed to turn her life around, had just gotten her first straight job. That night out with us was supposed to have been her last hurrah.
Even so, my will for revenge had foundered. I had decided not to go through with my plan, no matter our r4pe and Petra’s possible abdvction. It was just too dangerous and I’d told Alex no.
Then I’d gotten a text from Alex. “Gonna meet him tonight.”
That had been thirty-six hours ago and no response. Not one of Alex’s friends had seen her. Her apartment was untouched. I called all the hospitals and shelters. I even logged an official report at the station for all that was worth. Alex’s disappearance was what finally pushed me over the edge.
***
The place my target spent most of his time was a pretty up-class establishment. One of those bars you might expect lawyers or money managers to hang out, all mahogany and brass and crystal. Quiet jazzy music, not the pounding beat of the clubs, was playing.
Alex had dragged me to a bunch of boutiques for clothes a couple weeks ago for our night on the town. Good thing, as nothing else in my wardrobe would have been appropriate.
“Hey, a white wine please.” The big black barman, named Jake, nodded and went away to fill my order.
The man I wanted was at the other end of the bar. If I didn’t know what an evil bastard he was, I’d have found him attractive: tall, built like a heavy-weight boxer, short blonde hair. Then he turned and the lights behind the bar lit up his eyes: dead, the shiny-grey look of steel ball bearings.
I didn’t want to be too obvious. Fat chance that: low-cut white silk blouse, tight black skirt, come-fuck-me shoes. Not obvious at all. I undid another bottom to let more cleavage show and crossed my legs, real silk stockings making that shissing sound.
“You come here often?”
I almost jumped out of my garter straps and looked to my left. “What?” was all that I managed as I recognized him. He was the middle-aged guy that had pulled me off the police detective in the precinct.
I hissed, “What, the police finally interested?” and showed him my back.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see he hadn’t moved off the adjacent stool. So I turned, put a hand on his thigh, and said quietly, “You’re going to blow this for me. Will you get the fuck out of here?”
He just smiled in return, “I’m not a cop. I’m a reporter doing a story on sex trafficking. Question is, ‘what are you doing here’, an ER nurse?”
I pulled my hand back, worried for just a moment, but I’d not made the decision to come here lightly. “Get out or I’ll scream.”
I guess he could see I was serious because he backed away but not before putting a business card in my hand. I looked at it as he headed out the door: Ryan Nestor, reporter, Daily Tribune.
“That man bothering you?” It was Jake, voice like a bass fiddle.
“No, no. Just wouldn’t pay my price.” I’d prepared.
He raised an eyebrow, grunted and retreated with the twenty I’d left on the bar. I saw Jake talking to my target and him looking at me. He smiled, nice smile actually. I smiled back, recrossed my legs. Alex always said I had a pair of legs that went right up to my ass.
Yeah, stupid expression, but I knew what she meant. I’d also spent all my spare time the last week or so in a tanning booth so knew I was looking pretty sexy: light tan, long curly blond hair, blues eyes. I wasn’t k1dding myself at being some pageant winner, but I had something going tonight.
He walked over and my heart began to pound against my ribcage. He held out a hand, his voice rich and deep, “Dean, Dean Connor. I own this place. You having some problems? Anything I can do for you?”
I blushed, looked down and then up, and bit my lower lip. I blurted out, “No, yes, well, not really Mr. Connor. That man was just not in the mood for business, that’s all. I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Then I hit him with ‘the voice’, the one that almost put me into broadcasting before nursing school. It was the voice a boyfriend had called, sex-in-your-ears. “Is there anything I can do for you… Mr. Connor?”
He actually blinked five times, swallowed, and I saw him shift his hips standing in front of me as if trying to get something back in place. He looked from my eyes to my breasts and then back to my eyes. “No, uh, well, maybe.”
He frowned and stared at me harder, steel in his voice, “Do you know who I am, what I do?”
This was the real test. A girl like me, in the business, would certainly know this man so, “Yes. You run most of the young girls in town. Take some “out of town” at times. I know who you are.”
I guess he didn’t expect someone to come at him so frankly because he paused a moment. A bit of a Texas twang broke through. Not one of those friendly kinds of accents but the one a Texas Ranger says to someone he’s about to shoot. “Yeah, that’s me.”
He squinted harder and followed with, “Wait, I know you.”
I laughed, a sound I know some have likened to silver bells ringing, likely the effect of ten years of voice lessons as a chi1d.“You sure do. And I also know you’re smart enough to know I’m not some hooker. You and your boys fucked me good the other night and I liked it. I want to be a part of it.”
So there, it was out. The only question now was would he think it was a trap or think I was a lunatic—I thought I was a lunatic—or believe me. His mouth was a slit as he gazed at me, eyes like glass marbles.
A man as big as him shouldn’t be able to move that quick. In a blink, he snatched me by my hair, lifted me off the stool with one hand, and tossed me to the floor. I tried to scramble to my feet but before I could get up, he clouted me on the back of the head. I was flat on my back, stunned. I stared up at him not knowing what he’d do next.
“You want to be one of my girls? You need to be taught some humility.”
Foggy-headed, I still had the sense to stay put. I’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. Dealing with a slaver was sheer stupidity and dangerous as hell but I was committed now and waiting for his next move. He unzipped his pants and let them drop and waved a hand at an attentive Jake who came out from behind the bar.
“Colonel, everything all right out here?”
“We’re about to see Jake. This young woman wants to be one of my girls. You think she cuts it?”
The Colonel pulled me to my knees and pushed his erect cock in my mouth. I gagged on the size of it. Retching, I reached up and grabbed his balls in both hands, squeezed them so hard he should have yelled, but he smiled. Jake pulled my hind quarters up while I still had the Colonel’s dick in my mouth and then stripped off my skirt. I felt Jake pushing a massive hard-on against my pussy. It hurt and I screamed.
They both laughed. Jake said, “White bitch got a tight slit boss. Lots of folks would like a white MILF bitch like this for the night.” He shoved a few more inches in my cunt and my whole body flinched. I took a deep breath and to my surprise felt my privates flush at his stroking.
Meantime, Connor was repeatedly gagging the back of my throat with his rod. I was puking around it, but I never let go my death grip on his ball sack. After a few minutes he pulled out and backed away. Jake never stopped pounding away. Matter of fact he was laughing almost the entire time making comments like, “Damn bitch…. Got me a fuck machine…. Tight and wet…. Never had it this big, right whore?”
Maybe it the strike to my head, a concussion, I don’t know. Half of me was scared shitless, half of me was feeling triumphant that my plan was working, and the other half of me was getting excited about the vio1ence, the lack of control. I so fucking turned on now.
Connor wiped the vomit off his cock, stroked it for a minute, and came in my face. I didn’t turn away, just looked up at him and smiled.
A moment later, Jake groaned. I could feel the warmth of his stream inside me, excess dripping down my thighs, and my pussy convulsed in a mini-orgasm. Then he pulled out, and unsupported, I fell to my knees again.
This is what I had wanted, for Connor to take my measure, to desire me, even skull fuck me like he did if needed. But I knew to be special to a man like this, I had to be more than a compliant trio of holes for his cock’s cum.
I cleared my throat and straightened my back while still on my knees. Staring straight up into his eyes, arms spread wide, in my most siren-like voice, I sang to him.
“Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.”
It was the moment that the expression, ‘you could hear a pin drop’ was invented. Connor stood there in front of me, dick at half-mast. He had this bemused expression on his face, his eyes transfixed on mine.
He scratched the side of his face with a huge hand and then burst out laughing, “Yeah, that’s it. All these fucking John’s are stupid clowns. Fuck yes!”
I was in.
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I didn’t do it right away, had to swap shifts at the ER, claim a fami1y emergency to get time off. Then it’d taken another few days trolling the places “prick filet” had recommended. But we did discover the older man’s home base.
During the hunt, Alex had told me more about Petra. Her life had been even harder than Alex’s growing up on the streets. Yet even after so many years of abuse and hardship, Petra had also managed to turn her life around, had just gotten her first straight job. That night out with us was supposed to have been her last hurrah.
Even so, my will for revenge had foundered. I had decided not to go through with my plan, no matter our r4pe and Petra’s possible abdvction. It was just too dangerous and I’d told Alex no.
Then I’d gotten a text from Alex. “Gonna meet him tonight.”
That had been thirty-six hours ago and no response. Not one of Alex’s friends had seen her. Her apartment was untouched. I called all the hospitals and shelters. I even logged an official report at the station for all that was worth. Alex’s disappearance was what finally pushed me over the edge.
***
The place my target spent most of his time was a pretty up-class establishment. One of those bars you might expect lawyers or money managers to hang out, all mahogany and brass and crystal. Quiet jazzy music, not the pounding beat of the clubs, was playing.
Alex had dragged me to a bunch of boutiques for clothes a couple weeks ago for our night on the town. Good thing, as nothing else in my wardrobe would have been appropriate.
“Hey, a white wine please.” The big black barman, named Jake, nodded and went away to fill my order.
The man I wanted was at the other end of the bar. If I didn’t know what an evil bastard he was, I’d have found him attractive: tall, built like a heavy-weight boxer, short blonde hair. Then he turned and the lights behind the bar lit up his eyes: dead, the shiny-grey look of steel ball bearings.
I didn’t want to be too obvious. Fat chance that: low-cut white silk blouse, tight black skirt, come-fuck-me shoes. Not obvious at all. I undid another bottom to let more cleavage show and crossed my legs, real silk stockings making that shissing sound.
“You come here often?”
I almost jumped out of my garter straps and looked to my left. “What?” was all that I managed as I recognized him. He was the middle-aged guy that had pulled me off the police detective in the precinct.
I hissed, “What, the police finally interested?” and showed him my back.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see he hadn’t moved off the adjacent stool. So I turned, put a hand on his thigh, and said quietly, “You’re going to blow this for me. Will you get the fuck out of here?”
He just smiled in return, “I’m not a cop. I’m a reporter doing a story on sex trafficking. Question is, ‘what are you doing here’, an ER nurse?”
I pulled my hand back, worried for just a moment, but I’d not made the decision to come here lightly. “Get out or I’ll scream.”
I guess he could see I was serious because he backed away but not before putting a business card in my hand. I looked at it as he headed out the door: Ryan Nestor, reporter, Daily Tribune.
“That man bothering you?” It was Jake, voice like a bass fiddle.
“No, no. Just wouldn’t pay my price.” I’d prepared.
He raised an eyebrow, grunted and retreated with the twenty I’d left on the bar. I saw Jake talking to my target and him looking at me. He smiled, nice smile actually. I smiled back, recrossed my legs. Alex always said I had a pair of legs that went right up to my ass.
Yeah, stupid expression, but I knew what she meant. I’d also spent all my spare time the last week or so in a tanning booth so knew I was looking pretty sexy: light tan, long curly blond hair, blues eyes. I wasn’t k1dding myself at being some pageant winner, but I had something going tonight.
He walked over and my heart began to pound against my ribcage. He held out a hand, his voice rich and deep, “Dean, Dean Connor. I own this place. You having some problems? Anything I can do for you?”
I blushed, looked down and then up, and bit my lower lip. I blurted out, “No, yes, well, not really Mr. Connor. That man was just not in the mood for business, that’s all. I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Then I hit him with ‘the voice’, the one that almost put me into broadcasting before nursing school. It was the voice a boyfriend had called, sex-in-your-ears. “Is there anything I can do for you… Mr. Connor?”
He actually blinked five times, swallowed, and I saw him shift his hips standing in front of me as if trying to get something back in place. He looked from my eyes to my breasts and then back to my eyes. “No, uh, well, maybe.”
He frowned and stared at me harder, steel in his voice, “Do you know who I am, what I do?”
This was the real test. A girl like me, in the business, would certainly know this man so, “Yes. You run most of the young girls in town. Take some “out of town” at times. I know who you are.”
I guess he didn’t expect someone to come at him so frankly because he paused a moment. A bit of a Texas twang broke through. Not one of those friendly kinds of accents but the one a Texas Ranger says to someone he’s about to shoot. “Yeah, that’s me.”
He squinted harder and followed with, “Wait, I know you.”
I laughed, a sound I know some have likened to silver bells ringing, likely the effect of ten years of voice lessons as a chi1d.“You sure do. And I also know you’re smart enough to know I’m not some hooker. You and your boys fucked me good the other night and I liked it. I want to be a part of it.”
So there, it was out. The only question now was would he think it was a trap or think I was a lunatic—I thought I was a lunatic—or believe me. His mouth was a slit as he gazed at me, eyes like glass marbles.
A man as big as him shouldn’t be able to move that quick. In a blink, he snatched me by my hair, lifted me off the stool with one hand, and tossed me to the floor. I tried to scramble to my feet but before I could get up, he clouted me on the back of the head. I was flat on my back, stunned. I stared up at him not knowing what he’d do next.
“You want to be one of my girls? You need to be taught some humility.”
Foggy-headed, I still had the sense to stay put. I’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. Dealing with a slaver was sheer stupidity and dangerous as hell but I was committed now and waiting for his next move. He unzipped his pants and let them drop and waved a hand at an attentive Jake who came out from behind the bar.
“Colonel, everything all right out here?”
“We’re about to see Jake. This young woman wants to be one of my girls. You think she cuts it?”
The Colonel pulled me to my knees and pushed his erect cock in my mouth. I gagged on the size of it. Retching, I reached up and grabbed his balls in both hands, squeezed them so hard he should have yelled, but he smiled. Jake pulled my hind quarters up while I still had the Colonel’s dick in my mouth and then stripped off my skirt. I felt Jake pushing a massive hard-on against my pussy. It hurt and I screamed.
They both laughed. Jake said, “White bitch got a tight slit boss. Lots of folks would like a white MILF bitch like this for the night.” He shoved a few more inches in my cunt and my whole body flinched. I took a deep breath and to my surprise felt my privates flush at his stroking.
Meantime, Connor was repeatedly gagging the back of my throat with his rod. I was puking around it, but I never let go my death grip on his ball sack. After a few minutes he pulled out and backed away. Jake never stopped pounding away. Matter of fact he was laughing almost the entire time making comments like, “Damn bitch…. Got me a fuck machine…. Tight and wet…. Never had it this big, right whore?”
Maybe it the strike to my head, a concussion, I don’t know. Half of me was scared shitless, half of me was feeling triumphant that my plan was working, and the other half of me was getting excited about the vio1ence, the lack of control. I so fucking turned on now.
Connor wiped the vomit off his cock, stroked it for a minute, and came in my face. I didn’t turn away, just looked up at him and smiled.
A moment later, Jake groaned. I could feel the warmth of his stream inside me, excess dripping down my thighs, and my pussy convulsed in a mini-orgasm. Then he pulled out, and unsupported, I fell to my knees again.
This is what I had wanted, for Connor to take my measure, to desire me, even skull fuck me like he did if needed. But I knew to be special to a man like this, I had to be more than a compliant trio of holes for his cock’s cum.
I cleared my throat and straightened my back while still on my knees. Staring straight up into his eyes, arms spread wide, in my most siren-like voice, I sang to him.
“Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.”
It was the moment that the expression, ‘you could hear a pin drop’ was invented. Connor stood there in front of me, dick at half-mast. He had this bemused expression on his face, his eyes transfixed on mine.
He scratched the side of his face with a huge hand and then burst out laughing, “Yeah, that’s it. All these fucking John’s are stupid clowns. Fuck yes!”
I was in.
Dani
- 10.05.2021
- 50
- 0
