by Ray Gordon
"Been into town?"
"No, I thought you said that you were in town?"
"I'll be back soon."
"What, here?"
"Where?"
"Here, the hotel." Bloody hell, she's nuts.
"Yes, I won't be long."
"But I thought..."
"Have I missed breakfast?"
"Breakfast? It's the evening! Look, Miss Chaste, you can't come back here."
"Oh, good. I'll see you soon, then."
"The hotel is closed."
"Oh, when does it open?"
"It's no longer a hotel. You'll have to go back to the loony... to the place you've been staying at."
"Yes, I'll do that, Mr Hunt. I'll see you in the morning."
"In the morning?"
Replacing the receiver as Miss Chaste hung up, Mike sighed. That was all he needed! he thought, wondering whether to call Dickwipe. "Mike, there's no hot water," Dave complained, peering around the kitchen door.
"Fucking hell! Use your initiative, use the bloody kettle!"
"The bloody kettle doesn't work."
"Use cold bloody water, then! Jesus bloody Christ!"
"Cold bloody water?"
"Yes, cold bloody water! You just wait until I get my hands on that fucking plumber! Christ, I'll set fire to his pubes and fry his cock!"
Grabbing the ringing phone again, he prayed that it wasn't Miss Chaste. "Yes?" he bellowed, pressing the receiver to his ear.
"Mike, it's Belinda."
"What the hell do you want?"
"I need to contact Harold Gloom, do you know where he is?"
"Why do you need to contact him?"
"It's private."
"Er... he's staying here."
"Is he? Oh, well... I'll be over in the morning to see him."
"I'll look forward to seeing you again, Belinda."
"No funny stuff, Mike. I just want to see Mr Gloom about... about some private business. I'll have someone with me, waiting outside for me, so you needn't think you can lock me up."
"I wouldn't lock you up, Belinda!"
"You did before! Anyway, I'll be over in the morning."
A stroke of luck, Mike mused. If Belinda was Harold's would-be killer, he'd lock her in room sixty-nine and save the poor sod's life. If she was a private dick, he'd still lock her in room sixty-nine. Either way, he'd sexually torture the woman! But did he need these problems? he wondered. Widegroin and Belinda handcuffed on the top floor? There was no choice, he decided. Besides, the more pussy the better.
Chapter Twelve
Bound with rope to the chair, her ankles cuffed to the legs, Mike watched Wendy munching scrambled eggs on toast. She was an eminently attractive woman, he thought, gazing lasciviously at her firm breasts, her vaginal slit, perfectly displayed by the cut-out in the seat of the chair. But she was also a horrendous problem.
"You can keep me here for as long as you like," she said nonchalantly, finishing her breakfast and pushing the small table away. "But it won't do you any good because the day will come when I'll escape. Either that, or Inspector Dickwipe will..."
"There's no way Prickwipe will discover you," Mike interrupted her, focusing on her succulent inner lips projecting invitingly from her pussy slit. "And you won't escape because my barman's screwing the fire door..."
"Screwing the fire door? You can't have sexual intercourse with a door!"
"He can have sexual intercourse with any inanimate object, believe me!"
"But where would he put his..."
"He's screwing the door shut. You'll never escape, there are no stairs to this floor and the lift's operated by a..."
"There's the window."
"What? You'd try climbing out of a fourth-floor window? Apart from the fact that you're naked, you'd probably fall to your death and die!"
"Fall to my death and die?"
"Yes, or worse."
"I'd go to heaven."
"Good God, perish the thought!"
"One day I'll get out of here, you'll see," she returned confidently. "Good always wins over evil."
"Have you always been good?"
"Yes, of course!"
"You've sucked my knob, did you think that was being good?"
"I... you forced me to do it!"
"Yes, but you loved it, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't! Anyway, as I said, the day will come when I get out of here."
She was probably right, Mike reflected, but he had other problems on his mind. Urgent problems, such as Belinda's imminent arrival! Walking across the room, he gazed out of the smashed window, wondering about his ex-wife, her threats to expose him. Tie the bitch up and give her a damned good arse fucking? he mused. It was bad enough having to feed Wendy, lead her to the bathroom and keep an eye on her. With Belinda imprisoned, too... No, perhaps it wasn't a good idea!
"Wendy, if I were to release you..." he began, turning to face her.
"I wouldn't say anything."
"What about your job? What would you say to your superiors?"
"I wouldn't go back to work. The police force isn't for me, I realize that now."
"The question is, do I believe you?"
"Only you can answer that."
He wanted to believe her. After all, having prisoners on the top floor would jeopardize his business venture. It had seemed that the phone hadn't stopped ringing that morning, with six clients already booking for the evening. The business was booming, the cash pouring in, and Wendy and Belinda were standing in his way.
"No, I can't let you go," Mike said decisively. "Thanks to the will of God, and my girls' wet pussies, for the first time in my life I'm earning decent money. I have no worries, no problems - other than you. Why did you come back?"
"Because..."
"Dickwipe doesn't know you're here, does he?"
Shifting uneasily on the chair, Wendy concealed her gaping femininity with her clasped hands. If he was right and Dickwipe didn't know where she was... Why not allow Dickwipe to have his wicked way with her? he pondered. No, he didn't want Dickwipe involved. The last thing he needed was a corrupt copper demanding free sex!
"I've screwed the door," Paul announced, leaning in the doorway. "I'll go and make copies of the tape."
"Right," Mike acknowledged, not really listening to the young man.
"If you give me your credit card details, I'll place the ads."
"Er... yes, in the desk drawer."
Gazing out of the window again, he turned his thoughts to Belinda. He'd have to tell her that Harold had gone. Whether or not she'd carry out her threats, he couldn't be sure, but he'd send the woman packing. One prisoner was more than enough! Turning back to Wendy, he asked her again why she'd returned to the hotel.
"I told you," she replied softly, her inquisitive blue eyes looking up at him. "I left my shoes here."
"Why should I believe that you won't say anything about my escapades? You lie about coming back for your shoes so..."
"All right, I came back because I wanted my things from my room - my clothes, my police radio alarm and..."
"Why didn't you tell Dickwipe about this place, about the top floor?"
"Because I'd decided to leave the police force. I didn't want to get involved in prosecuting you, the paperwork, the court case... I'd have been sitting at my desk forever and a day."
"But you've been held prisoner, stripped, whipped, fucked... there's no way you'd walk out of here and keep quiet! You were treated abomin... abominab... I never could pronounce that word. You were treated despicably."
"Abominably."
"Exactly. There's no way you'd keep quiet."
"If that's what you think, then you'll have to keep me here forever, won't you?"
Moving to the chair and pulling her arms behind her back, Mike cuffed her wrists. He'd decide what to do with her later, he mused, kneeling before her and focusing on her bulging vaginal lips, her protruding inner sex folds. There was no point in coming to a hurried and possibly wrong
decision. Slipping three fingers between her parted labia and deep into her hot vagina, he gently massaged her wet inner flesh.
"You have a nice cunt, Wendy," he grinned, his penis stiffening, bulging his trousers. "A very nice cunt. I wonder whether I could get my fist up your cunt? Would you like a fist-fuck?"
"Be as crude as you like, it doesn't bother me," she replied, looking down at her fleshy pussy lips stretched around his thrusting fingers.
"The whip bothers you, doesn't it? The thin leather tails lashing your beautiful bum cheeks until they turn a fire-red, until..."
"Why whip me? You know why I came back, you know..."
"I like whipping girls' buttocks, it gives me a sense of power - and a sense of orgasm! Whipping girls' buttocks gives me a rampant erection. Anyway, I know something that Dickwipe doesn't know."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I know where you are."
"Don't be too sure that he doesn't know where I am."
"If he did, he'd have been here by now. Christ, he wouldn't add the job of rescuing you to a list of menial tasks such as making the bloody tea. Obviously, he hasn't got a clue where you are."
"You're right, he doesn't know," she finally conceded. "Look, why not let me work for you? I'm leaving the force so..."
"You don't think I'll fall for that, do you?"
"Try me. Allow me to work for you and..."
"Mike, your ex-wife is here," Trudie announced as she entered the room.
"Shit! OK, I'll go down," he sighed, slipping his wet fingers out of Wendy's hot vagina.
"And I'll stay here and play with our prisoner!" Trudie giggled, kneeling before the woman as Mike left the room. "God, she's got a nice cunt!"
"Please!" Wendy cried. "Mike, please! I'm not a lesbian!"
"No, but I am!" Trudie giggled as Mike left the room.
Emerging from the lift, Mike smiled at Belinda. Play it cool, he thought, leading her into the bar. There was no point in riling the bitch. Eyeing her long legs, he pictured her shaved pussy lips, her beautiful vaginal slit. She hadn't had the pleasure of the whip, he reflected. She'd had the leather tails forced deep into her rectal sheath, but not lashing her firm buttocks!
"Harold's gone," he said, sitting opposite her at a table.
Her eyes widened with suspicion. "Gone?" she echoed.
"Yes, he checked out earlier. You've got nice tits."
"Don't start that!"
"What did you want to see Harold about?"
"Er... nothing of importance."
"I'm surprised you came back. I'd have thought that after the beautifully perverted things we did to you, you wouldn't come within a mile of this place."
"Beautifully perverted? There's something very wrong with you, Mike."
"Yes, I'm close to insanity."
"You've always been close to insanity!"
"How's your shaved cunt, Belinda? I'll bet it's wet and juicy, ripe for a damned good..."
"Don't be so disgusting! I only came back to see Mr Gloom. If you're going to be crude and..."
"Sorry, but I have a natural tendency to be crude. Tell me the truth, Belinda, why did you come back?"
"I've already told you, I had to see Mr Gloom. As he's not here, I'll be going."
"I didn't like your threats, Belinda. I like your tits, but not your threats. Christ, fancy demanding half my earnings! No, I didn't like your threats at all."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to expose you, Mike. Frankly, you're not worth the trouble."
"The letter in your bag - was it from Harold or his wife?"
"Er... from Harold. He... he wanted me to..."
"If it was from Harold's wife, then you were out to bump him off. It said something about ending the farce of a marriage - by murder, no doubt."
"Bump him off? Murder? Don't be ridiculous!"
"You had a gun, Belinda. Guns are for bumping people off. Look at the evidence, it speaks for itself. Harold overheard his wife talking of his imminent demise over the phone, there's the letter in your bag, you had a gun..."
"I told you, I'm a private detective."
"OK, I'll take you to see Harold. I had to be sure, you see. I didn't want you shooting the poor sod! As you'll appreciate, the last thing I need is a homicide in my hotel."
"He is here, then?"
"Yes, I'll take you to see him."
Belinda wouldn't have risked returning to the hotel just to talk to Harold about his wife's adultery, Mike was sure. His intuition telling him that she was out to kill the poor man, incredible though it seemed, he led her to the lift. Taking a gun on an adultery case? No, she'd only need a gun if she planned to shoot someone. Perhaps she'd got hold of another one!
"Harold's staying on the top floor," he imparted as they entered the lift. "I really do like your tits."
"I hope this isn't a trick, Mike," Belinda murmured pensively, her green eyes catching his. "And stop going on about my tits!"
"Of course it's not a trick! He's staying up there because it's the safest place, safe from would-be assassins. Right, this way," he said, leaving the lift and walking down the hall to a vacant sex room.
Ushering Belinda into the room, he closed and locked the door behind him. She'd probably put up a good fight when he ripped her clothes off, he mused as she turned to face him, her eyes widening as she realized that Harold wasn't there. But he'd win, and strip her naked! His mouth twisting into an evil grin as he moved towards her, he focused his lustful eyes on her pink silk blouse, nodding his head appreciatively.
"You've a nice body," he complimented her, ripping her blouse open and exposing her braless mammary globes, her delicious milk teats. "You have the best tits I've ever seen. I think I'll spunk over them. Yes, I'm going to enjoy..."
"Mike, if you..."
"If I what, Belinda? You were going to bump off poor old Harold, weren't you?"
"No, of course I..."
"Yes, you were! Please, give me some credit! A gun, the letter... how much was Mrs Gloom going to pay you?"
"She wasn't going to pay me anything!"
"Good God, my ex-wife, a freelance assassin! A perfect candidate for a tit spunking!"
"I am not an assassin!"
Snaffling a pair of handcuffs from a hook on the wall as he walked towards the window, Mike turned towards his ex-wife. Holding her blouse together, concealing her firm breasts, she watched with bated breath as he approached her with evil reflected in his deep-set eyes.
"Mike!" she cried as he swung her round, grabbing her arms and cuffing her wrists behind her back. "Mike, I'm warning you!"
"Warning me? You're a paid assassin, for Christ's sake! You should think yourself lucky that I'm not going to march you straight down to the police station and have Dickwipe book you for murder!"
"I am not a paid assassin!"
"Well, I believe you are. The thing is, what do I do with you? Apart from spunk over your tits, that is."
"Let me go, if you've an ounce of sense in your thick head. Don't forget that I have someone outside, waiting for me."
"What a load of old bollocks that is!"
"Is it? You'll see!"
"Ball bags! Someone outside, my arse! My spunking cock! My Aunt Fanny! My rolling balls!"
"God, you're so crude."
"Dammed right, I am! And I get worse! When we were married there were things that I wanted to do to you - sexy things, filthy dirty things."
"You're a typical man; all you think about is sex!"
"Yes, and you're a typical woman - you have all the naughty bits, and you won't use them. You were such a stuck-up prude that I daren't suggest we do anything out of the ordinary. But now... well, now I can do what I like to you."
Tugging her short pink skirt down, revealing the triangular patch of her bulging white panties, Mike made his wicked plans. He'd force her to lick Wendy's cunt out, he decided, ripping her panties off, exposing her shaved pussy lips. He'd force her to breathe in the heady scent of another woman's sex folds, to drink ano
ther woman's warm girl juice. Marching her into the hall, he led her to the original room sixty-nine and stood her before Wendy, his evil thoughts plunging him deeper into the fathomless pool of sexual debauchery.
"You have a visitor," Mike announced, grinning at Wendy as Trudie finger-fucked the woman's tight vaginal sheath. "Oh, I see you're enjoying a little lesbian attention."
"I am not enjoying it!" Wendy spat. "I'm not a lesbian!"
"Lesbian or not, you're going to enjoy some more!" he laughed, removing the handcuffs from Belinda's wrists.
Cuffing Belinda's naked body to the frame, her hands above her head, her feet wide apart, Mike dragged Wendy's chair across the room and placed it before his captive. Her flushing face only inches from Belinda's gaping pussy crack, her shaved outer lips, Wendy turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Don't you like looking at her cunt?" Trudie asked impishly, hooking her long black hair behind her ears as she gazed at Belinda's blatantly exposed femininity.
"Of course I don't!" Wendy hissed.
"You enjoyed Nancy licking your cunt out, so why don't you enjoy licking Belinda's cunt out?" Mike asked, taking a length of rope from the bed.
"I... I didn't enjoy it."
"Of course you did. You loved her tongue stiffening your clitty, licking your open pussy hole, lapping up your girl juice."
Wrapping the rope around Belinda's naked body, Mike pushed Wendy's head forward, her face pressed against his ex-wife's shorn pussy, her mouth against her yawning sex crack. Running the rope around the back of Wendy's head, he tied it fast, securing her in the indecent lesbian coupling.
"There, now you can lick her cunt for hours on end!" he laughed.
"You disgust me, Mike!" Belinda hissed, looking down at Wendy's face locked to her open girl slit.
"I seem to be rather good at disgusting people. Talking of which, you're pretty disgusting yourself, Belinda. I still can't get over it - an assassin, for Christ's sake! You should be tit-spunked and arse-fucked!"
"I am not..."
"Wendy, I want you to lick my ex-wife's cunt out. Go on, push your tongue out and taste her fanny or I'll whip your bare arse! Give her a tongue-fuck."
Hanging her head, Belinda sensed Wendy's wet tongue delve into her gaping vaginal crevice - licking, tasting her there. Grinning at the humiliation portrayed in his ex-wife's expression, Mike wondered what other degrading acts he could force her to endure. As Trudie joined in with the lesbian games, sucking Belinda's erect milk bud into her hot mouth, Mike had an idea and moved behind Belinda. Hauling his solid penis out of his trousers, he admired his huge member, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his silky glans. She'd enjoy a good anal shafting, he mused. Well, she wouldn't, but she'd have his cock up her arse, anyway!