Robot Ponygirls
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Bar Girl Ch. 14 free porn video
Chapter 14. ‘Miss Cherry-Pie.’
Master Thor’s cunning. Bar Girl Murdered. Miss Cherry-Pie and Mr Chew. Typhoon Queenie. A Wu-pu, an illusionist and a unicorn.
After returning with Mama to Talent Spot, Blen compared experiences with Amor.
‘Seventeen guys,’ said Amor in amazement, as Blen counted out her notes, ‘I am sore for two days with fourteen guys, how will you sit down? I could not sit down.’
In fact, Blen avoided sitting for the rest of the evening.
‘Soon I will be a three-holer,’ said Blen. ‘When will you learn the blow-job?’
‘How will I learn? I do not like it.’
‘Bit by bit, like with the ass. I do not think I will like the ass, but bit by bit, and I like it. I will ask Nick. We can practise together.’
‘I will try it,’ agreed Amor. ‘We can practise at the lady-house.’
When Nick collected her from reception, Blen could see the curiosity in his eyes.
After she had showered, and settled with him on the bed, he could contain himself no longer.
‘How did it go?’ he asked.
‘Very good,’ said Blen. ‘Now I am Princess Butt-Slut. But you must wait my ass. I am sore. I am very busy today.’
‘How busy?’
Blen leaned over, took her roll from her pocket and counted the notes as she placed them on the bed.
‘Jesus! Seventeen guys! No wonder you’re sore. Can I see?’
‘Be careful. Just part my ass open, but do not touch.’ Blen knelt on the bed and raised her hips.
‘Fuck. What have they done? Have they hurt you?’ Nick exclaimed on seeing her glowing red and vividly welted buttocks.
‘No, it do not hurt, it feel good, but just part my ass.’
Nick knelt behind her, and parted her cheeks. Blen felt her sphincter relax and, as her anus opened, the cool air on her exposed rectal tissue once more. Nick whistled as her crimson anus yawned toothlessly at him.
‘Do you like?’ asked Blen.
He took her trailing arm and wrapped her hand around his engorged and stiffened penis. ‘That’s how much I like it.’
‘You like it a lot. Maybe tomorrow you can try. Now I give you a blow-job.’
‘First tell me about your seventeen guys. What happened?’ said Nick.
As they lay back in an intimate embrace, Blen began, ‘I was an alien today, and I have alien sex, with alien guys,’ and continued, with his erection gripped in her hand, pulsing and straining at each turn, until the story was complete.
On Monday morning, they were roused by Blen’s cell phone. She answered with a sleepy Hello, but was jolted into alertness by the voice.
‘Good morning Blen, I hope you woke as happy today, as I did.’ It was Bruno.
‘I am happy. Why are you happy?’ Blen snapped, suspecting that nothing good would make him happy.
‘Did you like my garments?’
Filled with foreboding Blen snapped, ‘What garments? I do not have your garments.’
‘Princess Butt-Sluts garments, they are also my garments, the garments I bought for you and which you said you would never wear,’ crowed Bruno.
Blen remained silent, her mind racing.
‘You see, you enjoyed wearing those garments, and I have kept them for you, you will wear them for me many times, Princess Butt-Slut, my whore-goddess.’
‘But … but … you are in Europe,’ blustered Blen.
‘I returned, especially for yesterday. I explained to William that we will marry, and that I wanted to take your cherry-ass, and the Masters, the sentimental bunch, agreed. I took your ass-cherry, and I enjoyed you so much I took you once more in the CR. You looked so cute, the perfect slut, with an elegant tail, packaged and presented for her Master’s enjoyment. I looked into your beautiful eyes while I pumped my filth into your bowels, and I knew I could never find a better girl. Soon we will be married, and I can have you every day.’
Blen could not speak. She ended the call, and sat with tears welling in her eyes.
Alerted by her silence, Nick opened his eyes and glanced at her. Seeing her tearing up, he asked, ‘Has something bad happened?’
‘It was Bruno. He has trick me. He was Master Thor, he take my ass cherry.’
Monday, was also Jesusa’s first day of term in the private school. She had studied hard with her tutor for the past month, and today she was thrown into class on equal terms with the other girls. Blen had arranged to speak with Jesusa after school, and awaited a call from Rozel. Although very upset at the true nature of yesterday’s events as revealed by Bruno, the knowledge that Jesusa was starting at the private school and embarking on a better life lifted her mood and dulled her anger. Whatever happened to her was unimportant. Jesusa’s future was the only important thing. The 21,000 pesos she had earned yesterday would be paid into the bank to secure Jesusa’s education, and Bruno’s evil machinations would, in the end, improve her sister’s life.
As dusk fell, her phone rang twice and stopped. It was Rozel.
Blen called back, and Jesusa answered. After exchanging sisterly greetings, Blen got straight to the point. ‘How was school?’
‘It is hard, but I try,’ said Jesusa, ‘I am absent so much school. There is much I do not know.’
‘But they will teach you? The teacher?’
‘Yes, but I must study extra at home, the teacher cannot treat me special.’
‘Is there nothing we can do?’ Blen grew concerned that her plan was already being derailled.
‘Only if I have a private tutor, then I catch up more.’
‘That is what we must do. Tell me how much, and I will arrange,’ said a determined Blen.
When she finished the call, she imagined the 21,000 pesos already evaporating, but decided that she must do whatever was needed to fund Jesusa.
When she reported to Mama that evening, she asked accusingly, ‘Do you arrange for Bruno?’
‘Arrange what? What is this about Bruno?’ replied Mama.
‘He is back, he is there yesterday. He is Master Thor, he take my ass-cherry. He have my number.’
Mama paused thoughtfully. ‘He is a devious man, he tell me he will return next Friday. I do not know he is here in Angeles. Master Thor is not his name before. He has plan well. I give your number to William, maybe he give it to Bruno. But consider … you were content when he is Master Thor, maybe because he has a different name. If you are sweet with him when he is Master Thor, why will you not be content also when he is Bruno? His strange sex will bring you close. Why not give him a try?’
‘Now, it is too late. Now, I am in love to Nick, I cannot love Bruno,’ said Blen.
The rumour mill carried gruesome news to Talent Spot that night. Members of staff from a hotel up Perimeter Road were saying that the dismembered body of a girl had been found in plastic bags placed in the refuse area of the hotel. A stray dog, smelling meat, had pulled open a bag, and had left body parts strewn on the refuse pile. The police were investigating, and were asking that any girls who had gone unexpectedly absent in the last few days be reported to them.
Mama-san checked her attendance sheets, and enquired of friends as to the whereabouts of girls unaccounted for. Most had been seen by friends, or were in hotels with their customers. Precious had not been seen for a few days, but she was on bar-fine at another hotel. A phone call confirmed that she was alive and happy. Mama had no names to report to the police.
There was also news of the three Mama-sans from Angel’s Wand, they were due in court tomorrow, and the Mama-sans, including Mama Mutia, were going to the court to demonstrate. They wished to show support for the Mama-sans, and their opposition to extortion by false prosecution. It was unusual for Mama-sans to express a public voice, but the unjust treatment of the three Mama-sans, and the beating of their girls, had incensed opinion amongst them. If unopposed, they would end up as servants of the NBI, permanently subject to t
he threat of fabricated prosecutions.
The following evening, Mama was able to report a success. About seventy Mama-sans had assembled outside the Regional Trial Court, and the Angel’s Wand Mama-sans were represented by the TAAC lawyer. No NBI officers attended court and with the three coerced affidavits retracted the charges had been dismissed.
The news concerning the dismembered body was less good. A girl from Lilliput bar had been reported missing, and could not be traced. She had been identified from the photo on her licence. It transpired that the girl had not been bar-fined, she was on a sneak-out, and her friends could only say that she had described the man she was meeting as a German. The field had narrowed to two or three suspects, but the evidence was circumstantial, and no arrests had been made.
On Thursday, two more developments in Angeles City law enforcement were reported.
After the débâcle of the Angel’s Wand prosecution, and the arrest of Humphrey, the Director of the NBI office in Angeles was replaced. One Attorney Lazario was to take the helm, and the feedback, through back channels, was that he was handpicked for his rectitude.
The other development was that the investigation into the murder of the girl from Lilliput was de-prioritised, there being no leads to follow. Officially, it was being said that the refuse area of the hotel was accessible from outside, and it appeared that the body could have been placed there to divert suspicion onto an occupant of the hotel. No evidence of such a grisly murder and dismemberment had been found at the hotel.
The rumour spreading from hotel staff close to the investigation, on the contrary, was that a hotel guest had been officially interviewed and unofficial meetings between the hotel owner, his lawyer, the guest, and the police had taken place. The guest, who was of the same nationality as the owner and was rumoured to be related, had left suddenly and was now back in his own country. The hotel owner, unusually, had supervised the thorough cleaning of the guest’s room after all the movable contents had been removed and disposed off. The belief was that the investigation had been pre-empted by a bribe, and the file would remain open and unsolved for a year or so before being archived, like the file on the billy boy murdered on Blow Row.
The girls were disturbed by these rumours. The hotel had its own bar and its own girls and the hotel owner was effectively their Papa-san, yet he was indifferent to the fate of a bar girl, willing to treat her as a disposable asset from whom murderous foreigners should be protected if the girl should inconveniently die in the course of her trade.
On Friday, the girls’ fourth payday came around. It was not only payday, Friday was Blen’s Hygiene day. Nick walked from his hotel to Hygiene with Blen, sheltering together under his umbrella as the winds tried to wrest it from his grasp. After she attended the Virgin Clinic, they made their way back to MacArthur, and on to the lady-house.
The girls were now becoming accustomed to having money, yet to feel the same thrill as they felt six weeks ago when, for the first time in their lives, they had held cash in their hands, required cash in ever-increasing quantities. Then, to hold 3000 pesos was ecstasy, now, when 10,000 pesos could be earned in a day, and disappear in a day, the anxiety that what they earned would not be enough crept back into their minds. When they spoke to their families in Desbilla they received requests for larger and more frequent remittances, there was always an urgent item of expenditure required somewhere in the family, the needs of the family seemed to expand to absorb the girl’s income, and then always grow a little more. The pressure on the girls to earn increased with each call.
This time, Girlie, as short-time girl, had earned the highest salary, taking home 11,150 pesos. Precious, with her magnetic bar-fines received 10,560. Blen received 8,850. Bruno’s advance bar-fine did not cover the whole period. She was no longer the short-time girl, and she could still not go bar-fine. Amor earned 6,250, but this without the aid of shabu. Blen felt disappointed to see her salary continue to fall. Amor, though she earned the lowest salary was content. She had turned the corner. She had paid off her credit and she was earning a good salary for the time of year. She earned much more in tips than in salary, and as Miss Ass-Fuck, she provided a service which was in demand, but for which there was limited availability.
When Blen collected her salary, Mama told her, ‘Hu-Fan and Mr Chew arrived today. Mr Chew is anxious to meet you. I will collect you tomorrow at midday. Be presentable. Dress like a cherry-girl.’
‘Tomorrow is my day off, I go with Nick,’ protested Blen.
‘I will give you 1000 pesos for your time, you can then treat Nick,’ said Mama, ‘but, now, we must be quick, everyone is here and it is time to sell your cherry.’
‘How long?’
‘By the end of the week, probably.’
‘It is one week now, until Mama sell my cherry,’ were the first words Blen said to Nick. ‘Is your plan ready?’
‘I shall get all my cash together. I’ve got together a little more than I thought, and I’ve arranged a few loans.’
‘Will there be enough?’
‘I hope so,’ said Nick, but both believed in their hearts that it would not be enough, not by a long way.
‘Tomorrow I will see Mr Chew, Mama will collect me,’ Blen told him.
‘It’ll get you out of the house,’ quipped Nick.
Outside the rain lashed down as Typhoon Queenie approached.
On Saturday, by the time Mama collected Blen from the lady-house, the typhoon was passing several hundred kilometres to the north. The wind was gusting strongly, and the rain was heavy and continuous. On Mama’s arrival, the door was unsealed and opened briefly to allow her to enter, then immediately pushed closed.
‘Let me see how you look,’ said Mama, ‘Mr Chew will like to see a virgin.’
She then set about presenting Blen as virginal.
Blen’s hair was pulled back from her face and knotted with a handkerchief. She was dressed in a loose, spotlessly white T-shirt and baggy shorts that hung to her knees, with flip-flops on her feet. When Mama was satisfied that she looked like a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old, they embarked in the trike. Nick made his way back to his hotel to await events.
On the way, Blen called to Mama over the roar of the motorbike engine and the howl of the wind, ‘Mama, today I am Miss Cherry-Pie.’
As they battled through the remote effects of the typhoon, Blen recognised the route. They were heading for the Mimosa Estate, she had been here at the beginning of the last typhoon. Eventually they halted. To Blen’s surprise, she was again at the Raphael Hotel complex. Blen had been impressed by the sumptuous exterior, but the splendour of the interior took her breath away. Clean and elegant, spacious and beautifully decorated, this was a standard of luxury Blen had not previously experienced. Even Mama seemed uncomfortable and out of place. She spoke nervously with the receptionist, and sat on the edge of the sofa, awaiting Hu-Fan.
Hu-Fan arrived ten minutes later, and greeted Mama and Blen. He was a well-groomed and suited Chinese man, who smiled ingratiatingly and spoke in good English. His pleasant manner put Blen at ease. He invited Blen and Mama to come with him.
After they had walked a few paces out of hearing of the persons in reception, he stopped and spoke quietly. ‘I shall take you to meet Mr Chew now. He is in the restaurant. We will lunch together. We cannot take you to our rooms, we do not want to be seen taking young girls to our room for obvious reasons, but we can discuss matters over lunch with Mr Chew. His nurse will be present as a chaperone. She knows the purpose of our visit, so we can speak freely.’
He looked at Blen. ‘I am sure you will please him, you look just the girl we r
equire.’
‘But, I do not understand about the unicorn,’ said Blen.
‘I will explain all that later, but first, just meet Mr Chew, I am sure he will approve you. It is best not to speak too much. If Mr Chew asks a question, answer, but do not ask questions, I will answer your questions and talk about money later. Just look at him and smile. He does not speak English, I will translate, but look at Mr Chew, he is your customer. You must charm him.’
He led them into the restaurant, where Mr Chew sat with his nurse by his side, at a table for six. As Mr Chew looked up, he caught Blen’s eyes, and his face brightened with a satisfied smile. Blen grinned shyly back. Their eyes remained locked as Hu-Fan seated them, Blen opposite Mr Chew, Mama opposite the nurse, and himself on the short side between Mr Chew and Blen.
To Blen, Mr Chew seemed like an older version of Mr Hirohito, with his hair a little whiter and thinner, his skin paler, more wrinkled and blotched, his body more hunched, and his smile more gummy. He looked at her, and spoke for some time, nodding his head.
When he finished, Hu-Fan spoke. ‘Mr Chew is very pleased. You exceed his expectations. He believes you are the girl who will catch his unicorn. He has seen your photos, and he believes you are a perfect virgin with a perfect hymen. He wishes only to confirm that you remain so. He would like you to go with his nurse, to confirm.’
‘I am the same,’ said Blen, ‘I will go.’
Hu-Fan passed a file to the nurse, who rose, and indicated to Blen to follow. As Blen caught up with her, she took her by the arm, and guided her. It was apparent that the nurse and Blen did not share a common language.
In her room, the nurse took the witness shots from the file, and studied them. She placed them on the bed, and indicated to Blen that she should take off her shorts and briefs, and lie down. As Blen did this, the nurse took some latex gloves from a bag, and pulled them on, then bent up Blen’s knees, and parted them. Leaning forward, she drew open Blen’s labia, and inspected her hymen. Looking up at Blen, she spoke in a language she did not understand, but the tone was positive. The nurse then leaned forward, and for several seconds sniffed deeply at Blen’s hymen. Again, she spoke, again, the tone was positive. Finally, she took a borescope, a digital camera with a micro lens on a long, flexible, optical microfiber neck, and using a USB cable, connected it to her cell phone. When she switched it on, a light shone from the lens, which she then inserted through the hole in the centre of Blen’s hymen. It was cold and hard, and Blen could feel it being moved around inside her vagina as the nurse manipulated it, making her incomprehensible observations and recording them on her cell phone.
The nurse withdrew the camera and stood. Her manner was now more relaxed, and her chatter animated. As Blen made to rise, she held up her hand to indicate she should remain as she was. From her bag, she took two hook retractors and offered them to Blen, one to each hand, moving Blen’s hands to indicate what she required. Blen understood, and with the nurse guiding her, she used the retractors to draw and hold open her vagina. The nurse raised her mobile phone, and held it close to Blen’s vulva to frame her hymen, then took several shots. She smiled, and indicating she was finished, waved Blen up.
When they arrived back at the table, the nurse nodded assuringly to Mr Chew, producing her cell phone, and showing him her photos of Blen’s hymen, and the video of the interior of her vagina. Mr Chew looked intently at the screen, and appeared to ask several questions of the nurse, who answered them shortly. The conversation continued briefly after the phone was replaced, but, eventually, Mr Chew turned again to Blen and beamed his toothy smile on her, and began to speak.
Hu-Fan translated. ‘I am very grateful to you for offering to help me,’ he began, ‘and I shall reward you well, because I am wealthy and you can save my life. I am an old man of eighty-five years, and I have lived long and seen many things, and now I am ready to die. I have a disease, which my doctor tells me can carry me off at any moment, he does not expect me to live three months. In many ways I welcome death, I have struggled and I have succeeded, I have amassed great wealth, I have supported charities and I support my family. I have many children by many women, but I married late in life, a marriage of love. By my beloved wife, now deceased, I had only one child, a daughter. Almost as my doctor pronounced my death sentence, my daughter announced the glorious news, that she was pregnant. The child is to be a boy. He will be my legitimate heir, and it is to him I will pass the joys and the responsibilities of my wealth. Before I die, I wish to hold him in my arms. My wu-po,’ he opened his hand toward his nurse, ‘tells me that the only sure way I can live to hold my grandson, is if I consume the life spirit of a unicorn.
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