Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  Fuck me.

  I swallowed and nodded. “You got any beer in that fridge, Trix? If I’m getting’ my balls nailed to somethin’ you could at least offer me a drink first.”

  Trixie smiled, and I swear to God I would have let her do just about anything to me at that point. Goddamn I was gone over that girl. I felt my cock swell as I watched her perky titties and tight Superman logo-covered ass jiggle as she stomped over to the fridge and yanked it open. Trixie chucked a can of Miller High Life at my head, which I caught and eyed suspiciously.

  “High Life, huh?” I teased, popping the tab open.

  “It’s the champagne of beers, asshole,” she said, taking her seat with a smirk. “Okay, John. So where were we?”

  “My name is Carter,” I belched between swallows.

  “Not anymore. In here, you’re just another fucking John. John Johnny-John Johnson—that’s you. So tell me, John, what kind of sicko are you?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, draping my left arm over the back of my chair. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Never done what?”

  I looked around the room and started pointing at her various contraptions. “That, or that, or that. Definitely not that.”

  Trixie wrinkled her cute little nose. “So, let me get this straight. You booked a ten thousand dollar session with a corporal punishment specialist, and you don’t even know what you’re into?”

  I shrugged and cranked the old Carter Langford Leg Spreader up to eleven. “I’m into you.”

  Trixie’s cheeks turned a little pinker and the corners of her mouth curled up for just a second before she slammed her bitch face back on hardcore.

  “Well, John. If you have a kink, I’ll fucking find it. That’s what I do.”

  “What if I don’t have one?”

  “Everybody has one.”

  “Yeah, but what if I’m special?” I teased, taking another swig from my beer.

  “Then this is going to be the longest fucking session of my life,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes and blowing a stray piece of green hair out of her face.

  Challenge accepted.

  Trixie leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms under her perfect fucking tits, causing them to push up and squeeze together. I imagined what it would feel like to squirt off in between them. I wanted to mark that crazy little bitch with my cum. I wanted to spread it all over her body, pump her full of it, fuck her every hole every day for the rest of my life. Goddamn, she was so close to being naked, and so close to me, it was a good thing I had a bottle to put my hands and lips on because I was having a real hard time keeping my ass in that seat and my tongue in my head.

  Trixie studied me while I finished my beer and imagined all the ways my cock would fit inside of her. I loved watching her watch me. I loved that I had her undivided attention, even if she was trying to figure out how to break me.

  “Are you into blood play, John?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Fire? Ice? Electric shock?”

  “No. No. Maybe?”

  “Animals?” She eyed me suspiciously. “No judgment. I know you country boys sometimes like to experim—”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Fecal fetish? Golden showers?”

  “Seriously?”

  “John…are you a plushie?”

  “A what?”

  “How do you feel about sploshing?”

  “Didn’t you just ask me that?”

  “Whips, paddles, or canes?”

  “None of the above?”

  “Torture?”

  “Torture?”

  “Yeah, like waterboarding, fingernail extraction, you know, torture.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Do you want to be humiliated or just hurt?”

  “Uh…neither?”

  Trixie looked me up and down, and I could almost see the gears in her kooky little head turning. Then a slow smile spread across her face.

  “I got it,” she said. Then she sat up and clocked me right in the fucking mouth.

  “What the fuck?” I yelled, my tongue searching my bottom lip for blood, and finding it. “You split my fucking—”

  Wham!

  Trixie punched me again, right in the temple that time.

  “Shit!” I grabbed the side of my face and tried to block her next attack with my other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I’m fucking up your pretty little mug. You don’t want to be a pretty boy, do you, John? You want to be a man. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want to see what you’re made of.”

  She went to swing again, but that time I caught her fist. Just as I went to breathe a sigh of relief, Trixie caught me across the cheekbone with a left hook.

  “Fuck! Stop it!”

  Trixie ripped her fist out of my grip and poked me in the chest with it.

  “I see three kinds of assholes in here, John. Three kinds and only three kinds. The kind who dominates other people all day and is just dying to hand over control, the kind who thinks he deserves the pain, and the kind who has something to prove. You don’t look like a CEO, and you’re way too cocky to be depressed, so my guess is that you’ve got some serious fucking daddy issues.”

  Pow! Right in the jaw.

  That one made me see stars. And it also made me see red. Hearing a stranger tell me I had “daddy issues” was about as emasculating as having a bastard in a business suit tell me I couldn’t handle a little girl. Maybe Trixie was right. Maybe I did have something to prove.

  I wasn’t about to tell her that, though.

  Trixie went to hit me again, but I grabbed both of her tiny fists and pulled her across my lap in one quick motion. Before she could wriggle free I got one good smack in, right across her plump fucking ass.

  My face hurt like a motherfucker—I was pretty sure I was gonna have a black eye and fat lip—but seeing Trixie ass-up across my thighs had my cock rock hard and ready to go.

  Trixie screamed and pushed off the wall with her foot, sending my chair over backwards and both of us onto the floor. She scrambled up my body before I could sit up and wrapped both hands around my neck, yelling something about never fucking touching her.

  I laughed breathlessly as polka dots danced in front of my eyes. Even though she was trying to choke me out, Trix was just so fucking cute. And her plump fucking titties were just begging to be squeezed. I reached up and cupped my hands around her tits, brushing my thumbs over the mesh shirt and electrical tape covering her nipples. I figured if I was gonna get my ass beat anyway, I might as well make the most of it.

  Trixie jerked my head up off the floor, then slammed it back down with a force that made my teeth rattle.

  Yep. Still worth it.

  With what little consciousness I had left I pushed off the floor and rolled over on top of Trixie, making sure to press my hard-on between her legs. She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she tightened her hold around my neck, but when I pressed my denim-covered cock against her Superman-covered pussy, I felt her hips push back against me.

  That little bitch wanted me too.

  On the verge of passing out, I leaned forward and kissed her angry, pursed, pink lips. I probably tasted like beer, but Trixie tasted like bittersweet black licorice. She opened her mouth for me, swirling her warm, wet tongue around mine and rolling those hips, all the while still trying to strangle me to death.

  When she bit down on my tongue I was afraid that she might try to take it clean off, but instead Trixie slid her teeth down the length of it, then captured my swollen, bloody bottom lip between them. It hurt like hell, but the pain shot straight to my cock, making me think I was about to go off in my fucking jeans.

  Trixie released my neck and a flood of blood and oxygen rushed back into my brain. I was so busy gulping down air and reeling from the head rush that I didn’t even notice the fact that Trixie had managed to get me onto my back with my arms spread apart until the last leather cuff was bein
g buckled.

  Somehow we’d wrestled across the hardwood floor all the way over to her bed, where she was able to get a hand on the bondage straps that hung down from each wooden bedpost. I was a little pissed that she’d managed to restrain me, but the adorable look of pride in her amber eyes made me forget why.

  Trixie straddled me and fisted my plaid Western button-up with both hands. Then, in one dramatic motion, she popped open every pearly snap. With an appreciative smile, Trixie looked up at me and said, “M was right. You do look better with your shirt off.”

  Leaning over me so that her lips grazed mine and her cheekbone-length green hair swept across my temple, Trixie said, “Now let’s see what else you’re made of.”

  Her tongue darted out like a snake’s, licking my split lip, before her head disappeared down the length of my torso. Trixie’s expert hands made short work of my belt buckle and zipper, and I chuckled when my steel rod of a cock sprang free and caused Trixie to gasp in surprise. I was pretty sure the senator she was supposed to be seeing that day wasn’t packing half of what I had to offer.

  I looked down and watched as Trixie wrapped both of her tiny hands around my cock and began to pump it up and down, slowly. Her tits were pushed together between her upper arms, and her tongue swiped across her lower lip as if she were staring at her last meal.

  Did I die? I wondered. Is this heaven?

  Just then Trixie leaned over my manhood and spit right on the tip of it. Using one palm she rubbed the head of my cock in slow circles until it was slick, while still pumping my shaft with the other.

  Fuuuuck. I was so close, but I didn’t want to blow my load in her hands. I wanted to blow my load in her mouth. Or her pussy. Or between those perfect fucking titties. Her ass would be a dream, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think I even had a chance of going there.

  At least not yet.

  “Trix…” I choked out.

  “I know what you want, John,” Trixie said, letting go of my dick long enough to pull the fishnet shirt off over her head. “I see the way you’ve been staring at my tits. You wanna fuck ‘em, don’t you?”

  Trixie stood up and reached inside the concrete birdbath she had repurposed as a nightstand (and had probably stolen from the backyard when she scored those lawn chairs). Pulling out a small bottle of clear liquid, Trixie flipped open the cap and drizzled what looked like baby oil all over her perky tits. Tossing the bottle back, Trixie squatted down and straddled my thighs.

  I had a front row seat to the best show on earth as Trixie smeared the slick substance all over her breasts, getting them ready for me. Her nipples strained to break through the black electrical tape still holding them down, and the tiny bit of hidden flesh taunted me. I wanted to sit up and rip those black Xs off with my fucking teeth, but I was helpless.

  Trixie’s slippery hands found my dick and worked it slick as she leaned over and slid my cockhead into the channel between her glistening titties.

  Looking down at me with fuck-me eyes, Trixie asked, “Is this what you want, John?” I nodded and Trixie smiled, squeezing her boobs together around my shaft. “You want me to make you come like this?”

  I nodded again as I felt my balls draw up into my body and my dick go stiff as an arrow. I was about to come harder than a fucking fire hose when Trixie suddenly released me and said, “Then you shouldn’t have fucking touched me without my permission.”

  Then she stood up and walked across the goddamn room. I almost had a heart attack when I saw where she was going. My green-haired girl was headed straight to the dresser with the jars full of freaky shit on top of it.

  Please God, not the pliers, I thought. Or the scalpels.

  Trixie reached into the butt plug jar and selected her torture implement, then grabbed a pair of tweezers as well. Glaring at me over her shoulder—my ten-inch lady killer standing at attention between us—Trixie said, “I’m a punishment expert, John. You pissed me off, so now you’re being punished. It’s called orgasm denial—just one of my many specialties.”

  Shit. I knew I’d crossed the line when I slapped her ass, but the bitch punched me in the face. Repeatedly! Now what the fuck was I supposed to do? My dick was cocked, aimed, and ready to fire, but I couldn’t even reach it to pull the trigger myself. All I could do was stare at my target—who was in the process of stepping out of her Superman underwear—and pray for mercy.

  “Trixie,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know all the rules. I’ve never done…this before. Can we just start over? I promise I won’t touch you again.”

  We both knew that was a fucking lie. As she walked toward me, butt-ass naked with only her electrical tape Xs and mismatched knee-high tube socks on, I knew the leather cuffs restraining me might not even be enough to keep me from getting my hands on that fucking body again. Her figure was petite, yet curvy. She had a few small tattoos here and there that I wanted to lick. And her bush had been trimmed into a fucking lightning bolt, identical to the one that had been shaved into the side of her head. I wanted to lick that too.

  Trixie stood directly in front of me—tits still glistening, tweezers and a neon green butt plug in her left fist—and gave me that Joker sneer that let me know she was up to no fucking good.

  “You actually managed to turn me on, John.” She spat the words like that was a bad thing. “For that, I’m going to punish you extra.”

  Trixie reached into the birdbath and grabbed the bottle of clear liquid with her free hand, then knelt next to me on the floor. “Keep your eyes on me, John,” she said, taunting me with the name I hated. The name she gave every asshole who’d been chained to this bed before me. “If you blink, even for a second, I’m going to do a little manscaping with my tweezers here.”

  Trixie pinched the air in front of my face with the tweezers, but I didn’t flinch. I was too busy drinking in her beautiful fucking face, her kickass short green hair, her tits—covered in Xs like pirate treasure—and the lightning bolt pointing to the one place I simply had to be. My cock was lubed up and diamond hard and I wanted nothing more than to slide into her. I would have given my left nut—hell, I would have given both of ‘em—to be able to get up and throw that bitch onto the bed so I could finish what I’d started. And from the look on her face, I guarantee she would have let me.

  “Are you even fucking listening to me, John?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Tweezers. Don’t blink. Manscaping. Got it.”

  Trixie straddled my thighs, but this time faced away from me so that her thick round ass was just a few inches away from my almost-purple cock. Looking at me over her shoulder, which I could now see had a tattoo of a Band-Aid on it, Trixie began to drizzle that slippery shit all over the swell of her ass. A drop of it landed on my dick and the damn thing jerked so hard it almost snapped off.

  Trixie kept one evil eye on me as she slowly rubbed the oil over her curves. Then she flashed me a wicked grin as she swayed on her knees just a tiny bit, causing her full ass to jiggle and bounce. God, if I could just move a few centimeters I’d be in there. I yanked against the straps connecting my wrists to the bedframe, trying to break free. The bed creaked and slid toward me a few inches, but Trixie scooted away the second my dick touched her skin.

  “Aw, poor John,” she teased. Picking up the butt plug, Trixie began to roll the bright green glass across her ass cheeks, coating it with lube as she continued to watch me over her shoulder. “You’re sooo hard. That’s probably pretty uncomfortable, huh?”

  Trixie bent forward and slid the plug up and down between her ass cheeks, giving me a full view of the cute little hole she was about to fuck with a cock that wasn’t mine. “If you were just a little bit closer, you could slide right in here, huh?” she taunted.

  I pulled the bondage straps as far as they would go and tilted my hips until I thought I was going to sprain my goddamn dick, but no matter what I did I was always an inch shy of everything I ever wanted. I humped the fucking air and tried not to choke on my own tongue as
Trixie fisted the round knob on the bottom of the toy and plunged the tip into her little pink hole, inch by agonizing inch.

  Still glaring at me over her shoulder with that one beautiful whiskey-colored eye, Trixie began sliding the plug in and out of her shiny, slippery ass, sinking down onto it and moaning like a goddamn porn star. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and look away—think about baseball or some shit until my cock fell back asleep—but I couldn’t. That show was worth a lifetime of blue balls. Fuck me.

  After what felt like a lifetime Trixie took the glass toy all the way inside of herself, leaving only a bright green circle peeking out. With a smirk and voice laced with sex she said, “You didn’t blink, John. Very good. You’re learning.”

  “Does that mean I get a reward?” I asked.

  “Mm hmm,” she answered, turning around and crawling up the length of my body. The head of my cock slid between her slippery tits and down her belly, and just that friction alone made me think I might explode all over her chest.

  But Trixie didn’t sink down onto my cock like I’d hoped. Instead, she planted her knees on either side of my shoulders and stuck that fucking lightning bolt on her almost bald pussy right in my face.

  Grabbing two fistfuls of my shaggy brown hair, Trixie tilted my head all the way back so that I was looking up at her. All I could see were two heavy-lidded amber eyes gazing down at me over two very slippery-looking titties.

  “To reward you for following directions, John, I’m going to let you make me come now.”

  Fuuuuck. I didn’t care if my dick fell off from sheer neglect. Trixie’s ass was filled to the hilt and she wanted me to fuck her pussy with my tongue. A few drops of cum seeped from my throbbing cock as I smirked up at her. The stinging in my face from the expression instantly reminded me that I had recently been punched in the eye and mouth by this same woman.

  But I didn’t care.

  “Trix,” I said, doing my best attempt at the Carter Langford Leg Spreader through the pain, “punishment may be your specialty, but making you come is—”