by Ray Gordon
"God, no!"
"Satan, yes!"
Bringing the tails down across the defenceless woman's tensed buttocks, Mike delighted in her screams and threats. Again, he lashed her taut bottom orbs, creating thin weals across her pale skin. "Long live therapy!" he cried, repeatedly thrashing her quivering arse cheeks. "Fuck me, I feel better already!"
"You'll pay for this!" she sobbed as the tails struck her again.
"No, I won't - the best things in life are free!"
The leather tails cracking loudly across Wendy's reddening buttocks, Mike lost himself in his perversity, his thirst for revenge against the establishment. Two lashes for Dickwipe's meddling, another two for the tax man, three for the right little bastard, two for the mental health cunts...
"God, am I enjoying this!" he chuckled, gazing at the woman's burning anal spheres. "I'm going to thrash you until I cream my pants!"
"Mike!" Dave yelled as he burst into the room. "Mike, there are six coppers in reception!"
"Satan bloody Christ!" Mike gasped, dropping the whip. "What the hell do they want? I suppose that's a daft question."
"They want their WPC back. They look pretty mean, if you ask me."
"Mean?"
"They've got shooters."
"Guns?"
"I knew they'd rescue me!" Wendy cried triumphantly, her crimson buttocks twitching their delight.
"They won't rescue anyone!" Mike leered, slapping her anal globes with the palm of his hand.
"Argh! Ouch!"
"The best man's here, too," Dave enlightened his boss.
"Shit, what shall I do?"
"God knows! You're doomed, if you ask me."
"I'll dive out of the window, take my life."
"You can't do that! It's suicide, Mike!"
"Is it? Oh, yes, so it is. OK, I'll go into hiding. Get rid of them, tell them that I met with an accident."
"OK, if you say so."
"I do!"
Slumping against the wall as Dave dashed off, Mike slid to the floor, his head resting on his knees. Doomed! Sighing, he contemplated the word. Doomed! I'm doomed! I'm bloody well doomed!
Chapter Nine
Apart from Cecilia masturbating in the cupboard, so far it had been a relatively quiet Sunday morning at Stokepot Towers. The previous night had gone well, once Dave had convinced the gang of cops that Wendy Widegroin had checked out. But they'd be back, Mike was sure of that. Dickwipe wouldn't rest until he'd found his bounteous WPC and had Mike banged up.
The estranged groom had grabbed Dave by the throat and threatened to tear Mike's head off, although Dave didn't know why. It didn't make sense - after all, it was the bride and the best man who'd had it off in room eleven, not Mike! But the groom, it transpired during the shouting and scuffling, had been unhappy about the hidden video camera. Dave had finally managed to reason with him, pointing out that the camera was the least of his problems.
Cecilia and the waitresses had done well, satisfying the male clients and earning Mike another four hundred pounds. The punters hadn't stayed the night - the girls had seen to it that they were shagged out by midnight! Of course, they'd kept well away from WPC Widegroin, who'd been gagged in the original room sixty-nine.
Again, Nancy had been left out of the sexual activities. She'd complained bitterly to Mike, but he'd not wanted her fucked by what he looked upon as common riffraff. "A classy cunt," he'd adjudicated as she'd lifted her skirt and shown him her ravenous, dripping sex crack. "Classy cunts are for classy punters."
The truth was that he wanted to keep her for himself. But he knew the time would come when she'd demand to work with the girls. He'd given her another fifty pounds, but she'd made it blatantly clear that it was hard sex she wanted, more than hard cash. Feasting his eyes on her sad drooping inner petals, he'd promised her that he'd satisfy her feminine needs at his earliest opportunity.
The cash rolling in, Miss Chaste banged up in the loony bin, the colonel having taken cover in his room, the only immediate problem was Belinda. In her wisdom, the bitch had decided to stay on for a while longer, much to Mike's annoyance.
"So, Sunday morning breakfast!" he grinned as he wandered into the kitchen.
"All under control," Dave smiled, prodding the sizzling bacon with a fork.
"I wish you'd stop saying that," Mike complained, grimacing as he gazed at a plate of phlegm-covered fried eggs. "Saying that things are all under control is likely to provoke a psychic response, and everything will go wrong."
"A psychic response, my knob!" Dave chuckled, stirring a pan of baked beans. "Did you give your ex-wife a good fucking?"
"No, I didn't get round to it. After you'd sent the cops packing, I allowed Widegroin to go to the loo and take a bath before tying her to the bed in sixty-nine. I waited until the punters had gone up to the top floor, and then I locked myself in my flat. I thought it best to stay in hiding, particularly as Mrs Gloom was wandering about. I wonder whether Harold left?"
"No, he's still holed-up in room eight. I took him his breakfast earlier."
"He is a git! I told him to get out!"
"What are you going to do about Belinda?"
"I'll probably give her a good anal rodding later. I might as well fuck Widegroin's bum, too. It would be a shame to let a damned good arse go to waste. OK, so what's on the agenda?"
"After I've done the breakfasts, I have the rest of the day off."
"The rest of the day off? Have you suffered a brain seizure?"
"Don't say you've forgotten, Mike! Goldie's taking over in the kitchen."
"Oh, shit, so she is! OK, let me think about the immediate problems. There's the King of Skythuania, my ex-wife - and the pig of a policewoman, of course!"
"You'll have to let her go. I mean, you can't..."
"Let her go? Christ, I'd be shooting myself in my knob if I did that! Unless I can think of a better idea, I might be forced to resort to homicide."
"Blimey!"
"Fuck me, I've got it! Widegroin hasn't met you, has she, Dave?"
"Er, no, I don't think so."
"OK, I'll finish the breakfasts. Go to sixty-nine and make out that you're an undercover cop come to rescue her."
"What's my name?"
"What?"
"Detective Inspector what?"
"Christ, I don't know! DI Cunt, if you like. Tell Widegroin that she's going to be done for prostitution. That's it, make out that you're from Scotland Yard. Don't tell her that you're going to rescue her. Say that you're going to arrest her along with the girls."
"It all sounds rather..."
"Play it by ear. Frighten her, Dave. Say that there's a big undercover operation and you reckon she's a prostitute - Operation Shagnasty."
"Shagnasty? OK, I'll give it a try."
"Good, do it now."
Entering the lift, Dave pondered on Mike's idea. Even if Wendy believed his story, what was the point? he wondered. Dickwipe would vouch for her, she'd be well aware of that. Play it by ear, he mused. Creeping into room sixty-nine, he gazed at the WPC, her naked body tied to the bed, her firm breasts and long nipples pointing to the ceiling, her vaginal crack gaping, inviting a darting tongue - a solid penis!
"Don't make a sound," he whispered as he approached the bed and removed the gag from the prisoner's pretty mouth. Gazing at her pinken, inner sex lips, his penis stiffened, bulging his trousers. "I'm Detective Inspector Mann, Danger Mann. I'm from the Yard, Scotland Yard," he announced authoritatively.
"Oh, thank God!" she sighed. "Thank God for that!"
"Why thank God?"
"Because I'll be out of here soon."
"No, you've got it all wrong. I'm going to arrest you, along with the others, for prostitution."
"What? But I'm a policewoman!" she gasped.
"Pull the other one, love!"
"Ring Pox Green station and ask for Inspector Dickwipe, he'll tell you."
"Ah, Dickwipe! He's already been arrested for aiding and abetting prostitutes, pimp that he is."
/> "Arrested? You're not a policeman, show me your ID. What sort of name is Danger Mann, anyway?"
"It's my name and I'm very proud of it. I have my mother to thank for it." Hauling his stiff penis out, Dave grinned. "There's my ID!"
"That's doesn't identify you!" the distraught beauty shrieked, eyeing his purple knob as he pulled his foreskin back.
"Yes, it does! This fine specimen identifies me as a member of the male species. You're done for, Miss! Of course, there might be a way out of this."
"How?"
"If you were to allow me to..."
"You're not having sex with me!"
"Just a little sex."
"A little sex?"
"Yes, a quick fuck."
"If you dare to..."
"I'll gag you again and thrown you to the lions unless you shut up!"
"You haven't got any lions."
"You'd be surprised by the things they have at Stokepot Towers. Are you a Christian?"
"Yes, I am."
"There you are, then. OK, prepare for a vaginal fucking!"
Widegroin's neatly closed cunt lips reminded Dave of his first sexual encounter. It hadn't been behind the bike sheds, as was the case with most teenagers. His initiation had taken place in a wood behind the school, and speculating whether his prisoner's pussy was as tight as that girl's, he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her splayed legs.
"You've got nicely trimmed pubes," he observed, parting her fleshy sex hillocks.
"If you dare..." she began, raising her head and focusing on his purple plum hovering ominously above her girl slit.
"Don't you like sex?" he grinned, pushing his knob between her parted pussy lips.
"This is against the law!" she protested as his glans entered the heat of her vaginal sheath. "I'll report you to your superiors!"
"They won't believe you. Besides, you're a prostitute."
"I am not a prostitute!"
"Of course you are, any fool can see that! Blimey, you're tied to a bed, naked, in a room with handcuffs, a whip, a spanking frame..."
"That's circumstantial, it proves nothing."
"It proves everything! If a judge were to come in here and see you like this, he'd sentence you to ten years for prostitution. He'd more than likely fuck you first, though."
His shaft entering her tight pussy hole, Dave impaled the helpless blonde completely, her rippling sex muscles embracing his solid member, his balls resting against her warm buttocks. Withdrawing, he penetrated her lust duct again, her voluptuous body jolting with his penile thrusts. He'd spunk over her smooth stomach, he decided, watching his cunny-wet love staff repeatedly emerge and impale her. Spunk over her stomach and then massage his male cream into her tits.
"Nice?" he gasped as he quickened his rhythm.
"No, I don't! Ah, oh!"
"Yes you do!"
"No, I... Ah! Oh, oh!"
"Are you going to come?"
"No, never! Ah, ah!"
His heavy balls slapping her taut buttocks, his ballooning knob ramming her hot cervix, Dave fucked the trussed policewoman for all he was worth. Gasping, her long golden locks tousled, her firm breasts bouncing, she was obviously enjoying the enforced fucking. "God, you're tight!" Dave gasped. "There's nothing I like more than a tight cunted policewoman!"
"You're obscene, talking dirty like that!"
"Don't you like me talking dirty?"
"Yes, no, I..."
"What a tight, hot, wet little pussy-cunt you have! I'm going to spunk up your beautiful cunt!"
"You're a vile man! Ah, oh, oh!"
"And you're a sexy, horny, randy little tart!"
"Oh, I'm... I'm..."
"Ah! So am I!"
His sperm jetting from his pulsating glans, Dave filled the whimpering policewoman's vagina with his orgasmic cream. On and on he thrust his cock into her tight cunt, lubricating the enforced vaginal pistoning to the accompaniment of her cries of orgasmic pleasure. Spunk oozing from her inflamed sex sheath and coursing down between her buttocks, she shuddered in her coming, tugging on her bonds as her body became rigid in lust.
"How are you getting on?" Mike asked as he led Nancy into the room.
"I'm there!" Dave cried, making his last thrusts.
"Nancy's desperate for sex, so I thought it might be an idea if she were to join you. She's a professional, so look out!"
"Yes, yes!" Dave breathed, collapsing over the WPC's trembling body as her drenched pussy expelled his sticky cock.
"Wait a minute!" Wendy stormed, staring at Dave. "You said that you're from Scotland Yard!"
"Yes, I am."
"Then, how come you know the proprietor?"
"Er..."
"I'm helping Inspector Bogmouth with his enquiries," Mike chipped in.
"I thought you said your name was Danger Mann? You're no more a policeman than..."
"You want to be careful, he'll book you for insubordination," Mike warned the flush-faced woman.
Leaping onto the bed, Nancy rolled Dave over and grabbed his half-erect penis as Wendy stared in horror at the lewd scene. Taking his sperm-wet plum into her thirsty mouth, Nancy began her fervent sucking. She was a randy little bitch, Mike mused, watching her fingers toying with Wendy's swollen cunt lips. Her ebony hair falling over Dave's stomach, his rolling balls, she took his knob to the back of her throat and thrust three fingers deep into Wendy's cunt, confirming Mike's observation.
Unable to restrain himself, Mike dragged his solid penis out of his trousers and settled on the bed beside Wendy. Protesting wildly as he offered his swollen glans to her mouth, he pressed his knob against her lips. Would she suck it? he wondered, catching her sparkling blue eyes. Would she suck him off and drink his gushing spunk?
"Aren't you hungry?" he asked her, pressing his knob harder against her pursed lips. "Go on, suck it."
"No, I..."
"There, you like that, don't you?" he grinned, propelling his plum into her wet mouth.
"I like this!" Nancy said excitedly, slipping Dave's penis out of her mouth and kissing Wendy's dripping vaginal crack. "Mmm, there's nothing I like more than eating pussy!"
"Christ, you're a lesbian!" Mike gasped.
"I'm into whatever I'm lucky enough to find between people's legs!"
Watching Nancy lapping up Wendy's nectar, her pink tongue glistening, Mike sensed his knob pulsate. Focusing on Wendy's gobbling mouth, her lips taut around his shaft, he grinned. Her eyes closed, her tongue running round his swelling glans, she was obviously in her sexual heaven. But he still had to come to a decision as to her future, he reflected. It was one thing having some dirty fun with her, but another to keep her prisoner indefinitely!
"Drop it!" As one, the players in the lewd tableau turned their startled eyes towards the screamed order, the ambushed door. With her feet wide apart and her knees bent, Belinda was pointing a gun at Mike's head.
"Drop what?" he gasped, his eyes widening as he focused on the revolver.
"Anything! Just drop it!"
"Christ, how the hell did you get up here? And what are you doing with a bloody gun?"
"I'm a cop!" she grinned triumphantly. "When I heard that Stokepot Towers was under surveillance, I volunteered for the job."
"Under surveillance for what?" Mike asked. "Suspected multiple orgasms?"
"We received a tip-off about Harold Gloom's imminent murder, and I was sent here to keep an eye on him."
"You're not a cop!" Mike laughed nervously.
"Yes I am, I've been in the force for several years now. OK, all move away from the bed!"
"If you're here in connection with Harold Gloom, why come up here pointing a gun at me?"
"I thought the would-be murderer was lurking up here, waiting to pounce."
"Well, he's not, so put that bloody gun away! Has your brain taken leave of your head?"
"I'm a policewoman, too!" Wendy cried, slipping Mike's cock out of her wet mouth. "Please, untie me!"
"Wha
t's going on here?" Belinda frowned, eyeing Wendy's dripping cunt slit. "This place looks like a brothel."
"It is!" Wendy screamed. "Please, make them untie me!"
"Any one of you could be the latent assassin. All stand by the bed!"
"Well, I'm not, I'm a policewoman, like you."
"You look like a common prostitute to me. All stand by the bed!"
Standing either side of Wendy's naked body, their penises hanging sadly limp, Mike and Dave gazed at Nancy as she moved tentatively towards Belinda. Praying that she wasn't going to do anything stupid, Mike zipped his trousers, desperately trying to devise a plan. Taking his chance as Nancy hurled a flying kick at Belinda, knocking the gun to the floor, he dashed across the room and grabbed his enigmatic ex.
"Got you!" he bellowed, holding her arms behind her back. "Some bloody cop you are!"
"Let me go!" she screamed hysterically, kicking Dave as he tried to grab her feet.
"The handcuffs!" Mike yelled, struggling to hold the desperate woman. "Get the bloody handcuffs and cuff her ankles!"
Taking the handcuffs from Nancy and securing Belinda's ankles, Dave helped Mike cuff her wrists. Putting up a futile fight, Belinda knew her fate as, gazing at Wendy's drenched vaginal slit, her wet, protruding inner sex petals, she was marched towards the bed.
"So, Belinda," Mike smiled, spinning her round to face him. "What are we to do with you?"
"I was only joking!" she giggled nervously. "It was a joke, I'm not really in the police force."
"Where did you get the gun from? And how do you know about the Glooms, the assassination plot?"
"It's a toy gun, and I overheard Mrs Gloom talking to..."
"A toy?" Dave echoed, picking the gun up and pointing it at the wall.
"Yes, it's just a toy."
"It looks real to me. It's pretty heavy, too," Dave said, pulling the trigger.
"Jesus Christ!" Mike cried as the gun went off, the bullet embedding itself in the wall. "Fucking hell!"
"Shit, I could have killed someone!" Dave yelled, dropping the gun. "Christ, I could have become a wanted killer on the run within seconds!"
"OK," Mike grinned, turning to Nancy as Wendy looked on in horror. "Strip our latest prisoner! It's about time I fucked my ex-wife!"
Struggling as Nancy ripped the front of her blouse open and exposed her full, straining bra, Belinda looked down in horror as the red silk cups were torn away from her trembling body. Her firm breasts on display, the audience focused on her chocolate-brown areolae, her delicious, long milk teats. She still had a good body, Mike observed as Nancy tugged Belinda's skirt down, exposing the bulging, triangular patch of her red panties. Did she still shave? he wondered, his cock rising as he waited in anticipation for the crude unveiling of her cunt.
