Sold To Perform
They came in their thousands to the lakes and forests, and now the long hot weekend beckoned, the city emptied as everyone sought the peace and charm of Syon National Park. Kitty watched another auto arrive and smiled to herself at the irony of all these people getting out of town to find solitude, only to meet so many people trying to do the same thing. But she didn't have time to idly stand and be amused at humanity, the diner was busy and she had her set of tables to serve. The pretty nineteen year old patted at her auburn hair, gave her friend Rhonda a grin, and strolled over to the guy sitting at a side table, who'd waved at her to pay his bill.
It wasn't the most popular seating in the diner, the old air-condition unit humming and shaking, making conversation difficult. But at vacation time the travelers squeezed in wherever they could. The highway led on to the camping sites and Deep Creek Diner was the last place to eat and drink before you got to the open spaces of the Park.
Kitty guessed he was probably in his early forties and, unusual for this time of year, on his own. Most of the visitors were families and couples. She'd play mental games and put her customers in slots. Kitty had this guy down as a property executive, out here to assess land for more speculative building. Like most of the men, and some of the women, he'd given her an appreciative glance, taking in her long legs and shapely body. The owner of the diner, Myles Thackerey, knew dressing the female staff in very short skirts and tight matching blue tops got the attention away from the indifferent food. Taking in a nice ass or rounded breasts was a good sales tactic.
"Everything okay, mister?" Kitty asked, putting on an act of curling a finger around a stray lock of her hair, knowing that the little girl style made the guys more generous with their tip. He kept his eyes on her. They were attractive, sparkling orbs, his face handsome. She handed him the change from the payment of the bill and let her hand gently touch his, hoping that would add to the amount of the tip. He got up and put his hand in his inside pocket, bringing out a brown leather wallet. Kitty could see it was stuffed with bills, crisp, new and waiting to be liberated.
"Does this get shared?" he asked as his fingers continued to run over the edges of the paper money.
She smiled, not completely understanding the meaning. He brought out a wad and flicked it discreetly.
"There was a service area on the bill. I presume that goes to all the staff. I was wondering if this tip is just for you, pretty lady?"
Again Kitty thought it best just to grin in a seductive way. Three ten dollar bills were laid on the table, his fingers holding them down, not yet releasing them to Kitty.
"Does your friend get a cut" like she did with the double check scam?" he said, his expression probing, knowing.
Kitty gulped. All of a sudden her fresh face demeanor had been breached. She knew her cheeks were red, flushed with what this man had said. Words stuck in her throat.
"I've seen it worked before," he added, now sensing she was on the defensive. "Would you like me to call the manager" or even the cops? Or shall we discuss this privately?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, mister."
He took back the bills, put them in his wallet and sighed. It was a self-satisfied, arrogant intake of breath.
"Don't play about, young lady. I haven't got the time. We both know what I'm talking about" and the consequences." He started to walk away from the table, stopped and turned back to Kitty. His voice was low, sweet with the honey venom of an angry bee, which was holding back the sting" but not for long.
Do you know the Bravo Motel out on the edge of the Park? Be there this evening. Room seventeen. If you don't show up to talk sensibly about this"then I'll make an anonymous call to the cops. Your life, your call, your choice, pretty lady." His tongue licked across his lips. Turning, he made to go, then halted and with his head inclined said, "And make sure you bring your black friend along as well." Then he left.
Kitty stood, mouth open, sweat on her brow, watching the handsome guy stroll nonchalantly across the parking lot.
They'd argued for over an hour, at first in muted voices as their shift at the Deep Creek Diner came to an end, now all the way along the highway, driving Rhonda's old pick-up truck.
"Yes, of course I can see what you're saying," Rhonda said irately, her black beautiful face illuminated by the lights from the oncoming traffic. "But why do we have to meet him at his motel, Kitty?"
"Because he's calling the shots. I've told you a dozen times, this guy knows we are defrauding the diner," her friend said just as heatedly.
Rhonda slammed on the brakes.
"What's wrong?" Kitty asked.
"There's the Bravo Motel, her friend said. "Isn't this where you said he was staying?"
Kitty took Rhonda"˜s arm. Her friend was twenty but looked much younger, her black skin silky, her figure slim and shapely in the right places to get men salivating when they paid their bills at the diner, as the lady worked as the cashier.
"He knows, Rhonda," Kitty said, trying to convey her concern but not anger.
"The guy just said he'd seen the scam before."
"If he goes to the cops and there's an investigation they'll find the evidence."
Rhonda leaned on the steering wheel. She tried to think straight. Kitty was right, of course. They'd worked the con for almost a year. Kitty would give the customers at her tables the right bill. It had to be a cash transaction, not credit card. She would pass this to Rhonda on the cashier's deck. Her friend made a false, and much smaller bill for the records" and kept the difference in cash. Great sting, very easy. But, yes, if someone went through the books, the amount on the waitresses' order cards wouldn't tally with the receipts for the day. It would be a long haul but any competent accountant would find the discrepancy.
"What does he want? A cut of our takings?" Rhonda huffed, more scared than annoyed.
"Let's go in and find out, Rhonda. If he wants money, I'd rather that than the cops come sniffing around."
Rhonda parked the car in the far side of the lot so as not to attract attention from anyone sitting in the reception area of the motel. It was an ordinary looking place, it's only distinguishing feature was at least a third of the neon lights on the sign out front were flashing and needed repairing or replacing. They both sat in the auto scanning along the row of doors either side of the front entrance. Number seventeen was the end room at the left hand side.
The women got out, closed the doors quietly and walked pensively over to the motel room. Rhonda stood motionless, so Kitty knocked.
"It's open, girls." The voice was confident. They went in.
A lamp on a side table dimly lit the room. There was a double bed in the center, the guy Kitty had spoken to at the diner was stretched casually out, the TV flickering away in the corner, two empty bottles of beer on top of it. He waved them in and dispassionately leaned over, picked up the remote and keyed the off button.
"Close the door, girls. We don't want anyone else to know about our arrangements, do we?" He languidly got up, walked over to the dressing table unit, pointed at a fresh beer bottle to silently ask them if they wanted a drink. Kitty and Rhonda shook a no. He shrugged and flipped the top off, drinking from the bottle.
"Take a seat ladies. Sorry, it will have to be the bed, we seem to have a lack of furniture in the room." They perched uneasily on the edge, either side of the bed.
"Okay, girls, you call me Sam. What about you two?"
"I don't like wasting time," Sam began, swigging his beer. I guess you have talked about what would happen if I blew the whistle on your scam?"
The girl's eyes flashed from each other, to Sam and then the floor.
"I'll take that as a yes," he smugly grinned. "Let's get down to business. I'll keep our secret" but you've got to say a thank you."
Rhoda shifted uncomfortably in her sitting position, waiting for him to hit them for money. She dreaded he'd ask for an exorbitant amount, as they'd spent the proceeds as they went along on clothes and enjoying life.
Coning the customers is your game," Sam said as he came over and sat between them. "Spanking is mine."
Somewhere a siren pierced the dark night, and the low drone of the bass notes from the TV in the adjacent room filtered through. Rhonda stared at Sam and then Kitty.
"Yes, you heard right," he said, relaxing back on the bed and letting his feet slyly touch the girls. "And before you go through the drama scenes, there's only one decision you need to make. An evening of innocent sensuality" or prison."
That last word struck home. Kitty looked anxiously at her friend. The message in her eye contact was clear. What choice do we have?
"What do you have in mind, mister?" Kitty asked, nibbling nervously at her lip
"A simple and sexy session, Kitty. You two spank me first, then I'll give your beautiful butts a hand warming" and we're talking bare ass," he smiled.
"We ain't got no choice, have we?" Rhonda shrugged. Sam hunched his shoulders in a returned gesture of agreement. He slid off the bed, went over to a panel in the wall and pressed buttons on the radio until he found a program playing rock'n'roll.
"Nothing like a good beat while your ass is tanned," he laughed softly, the mild joke almost said to himself. He took another gulp of his beer, and this time his offer to them was accepted. They both felt the need of a drink.
"Okay, girls, this is where the fun starts," Sam whistled and started to unzip his pants. They watched, trying not to show interest, but furtively intrigued as his pants came off and then he quickly removed his shorts. His ass was good and firm, but it was his erect cock that got their attention. He was obviously turned on by the situation. This was a hard and aroused shaft.
Sam lay on the bed, ass displayed and they could only image his rock solid cock pressing against the covers.
"Sit either side of me, girls, and take it in turned to whack me with your hands."
There was a pause, the girls thinking, trying to take in this unreal situation. Sam turned his head and looked at Rhonda.
"Go on, you start." The words were commanding and demanding.
They slapped his ass. He insisted it was performed harder. As they got into a rhythm his whole body was jerking up and down, his moans of pleasure mixed with grunts, as it was obvious Sam was getting vicarious satisfaction with his erection rubbing against the bed.
With his rear cheeks showing red and their hands becoming sore, his breathing slowed, Sam having found his level of gratification. He sat up slowly. Rhonda noticed the head of his cock was damp and sticky. It wasn't a full ejaculation but he's come slowly in response to the spanking.
"Now you, girls. Down on your stomach," he urged, kneeling between them.
"Slip those jeans way down ladies," he leered, his voice becoming horse. Sam let out a low, long murmur.
"What fabulous G-strings...so much ass showing. But they're going to have to come down, girls. That's the rules of the game." he leaned over Kitty and tugged at her blue G-string until it was halfway to her thighs. Then he removed Rhonda's G-string, touching her ass as he did so.
"One beautiful black ass and one pale round white rear," he said and fondled them over their cheeks.
Without warning the spanking started. It was no playful tap. Sam made their flesh sting and they had to grit their teeth as he administered the punishment. After twelve full hand whacks, he leaned forward, took it in turn to gently kiss their naked cheeks, and as his fingers withdrew made sure they slipped to the base of these presented rears so he could feel the swell of their clits.
Then he rapidly stood up, got dressed and stood watching them pull up their panties and jeans, sipping his beer, one hand in his pocket, obviously giving himself sexual stimulation.
"Thanks for the enjoyment, girls," he called as they left in silence.
A week went by, Rhonda and Kitty didn't talk much about the incident with Sam. When the time ran into almost two weeks, they even felt confident enough to reinstate their scam.
Then Sam walked into the Deep Creek Diner. He sat at a window booth with two men, chatting and laughing, only nodding politely at Rhonda as he went by the cashier's counter. The diner was busy so although they were sitting at one of Kitty's tables she hadn't gone over to them yet.
Eventually she sidled up, trying not to look too intently at Sam. She stood and dutifully took their orders, feeling embarrassed that Sam may have gossiped about her to his friends. She tried to glance at them to see how they looked at her. They were both Sam's age, very immaculately dressed and refined in their attitude toward her.
Their meal was served and Rhonda made sure the bill she made up for their table was genuine. As she handed it to Kitty, Mr. Grossman, the manger was standing at the counter so they couldn't discuss anything.
"Your bill, sir," Kitty said holding it out, not sure who was going to pick up the tab in the party of three. Sam reached up, his hand touching Kitty's. He took out his wallet and put down the amount of the bill. Then he slowly added five ten-dollar bills.
"This is for you, Kitty," you have looked after us just fine. Gary here is particularly pleased with you." The guy on his right smiled at Kitty. "Now Tom, prefers your friend, Rhonda," Sam said in a matter of fact way, and added a further forty dollars to the stack.
Kitty leaned down to pick up the money, conscious that the man called Gary was swaying back in his sit, taking the opportunity to take a good look at her rear as she bent forward.
Sam held Kitty's wrist, his urbane manner, subtly changed into a narrowed-eyed, menacing approach.
"My friends want entertaining tonight. I've brought them here to see you. Gary and Tom approve of you both. I've booked two rooms at the Bravo Motel."
Kitty pulled away. Sam tightly held on to her and muttered.
"Listen, my pretty little vixen. You and your friend will do as you're told. You haven't paid your debt to me yet. Now sit quietly down at the table as if you are talking to three diners and I'll tell you what I expect." His powerful grip twisted her wrist. Kitty slipped into the green plastic bench seat next to Gary.
"Be at the motel by eleven this evening. I'll be in the car lot and will meet you and Rhonda. You, Kitty, will be Gary's. Ever done any lap dancing?" he smirked. She was aware that Gary, next to her, was taking in her body, his eyes running all over her.
"No," she mumbled, her wrist hurting, her heart racing.
"Well, my friends will expect a good show. A complete striptease to begin" and then the rest is up for negotiation. Tell your friend Rhonda Tom is anxious to see her black body. Very anxious to see all of it." Sam let go of her.
She rubbed her wrist, took the money and went, leaving them grinning like three cats eyeing the sexy cream.
Sam stared at her, and for the first time Kitty saw the deep danger and subdued anger in his soul.
"I've told you, Sam, I don't know where Rhonda is. I told her about your" demands. She just took off. But look, I'm here." Kitty hoped he would accept that. She saw he didn't.
They sat in his car outside of the Bravo Motel. Kitty had tried for over an hour to persuade Rhonda to go along with what Sam wanted. She said the blackmail would go on and was going to pack up and leave town. Kitty got scared that Sam would make a call to the cops. She didn't fancy being on the run, or going to prison.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Sam grabbed her arm and said, "Okay, you'll have to do a show for both Gary and Tom."
He got out the car, slammed the door and marched her over to the far end of the motel. He tapped on the door of room sixteen. Tom came to the door.
"Change of plan. Kitty is going to look after you both tonight." Tom was going to say something, blew out his cheeks and gave Kitty a lascivious once over. Sam then knocked on the next door. Gary opened it, Sam pushing Kitty in and talking in low tones to the two men.
She waited in the familiar room where she remembered the spanking session taking place. When Gary and Tom came in, they closed the door very firmly and she realized this was not a get-your-rear patted session.
"So your friend has run away," Tom said, sitting himself on the bed. Gary went to the fridge and took out two miniature bottles of whiskey, throwing one over to his friend. Kitty saw they had an old record player set up in the corner, the machine balanced on a wooden dinning chair.
"Do you like Country music, Kitty?" Tom asked as he drank the whiskey. She nodded, thinking it best to agree. Gary flipped through some music, found one he liked and put it on the turntable.
"Okay, beautiful," Gary breathed in growing anticipation, I reckon this record will last about three minutes. That's how long you've got to show us how you can dance seductively" and strip off at the same time." Both men lounged back on the bed, sweat on their foreheads and lust in their eyes. Gary pushed the arm over and the music started.
Kitty started slowly, self consciously gyrating to the tune.
"Get on with it," Gary hooted and slapped her rear as she was spinning around. Kitty undid her blouse and let it fall from her shoulders and onto to the floor as she continued to dance to the beat. Tom gave a mock wolf whistle. It took Kitty some effort to keep dancing while undoing her jean, but both men applauded when she expertly kicked off her shoes.
Down came her jean and then Kitty swiveled about in front of them, prancing suggestively in her bra and G-string. When she turned and they got sight of her near naked ass, the men encouraged her to go on stripping. Kitty knew the tune and realized she didn't have long to complete her performance. She undid her bra, let it drop and felt the heat of the men's thoughts as they watched, mesmerized by her breasts swayed to the dance.
"Get 'em off," Gary called. Kitty slipped her G-string down and had ten seconds to do a few final twirls totally nude.
The music stopped. She cautiously moved to pick her clothes up. Gary reached out and pulled her onto his lap.
"This is not what I agreed with Sam." She kept her voice neutral.
"Don't get huffy, sweetheart," Gary said, but kept hold of her. The rest of the evening you get paid for."
She sensed Tom's hand feeling across her thigh. Kitty managed to get up off Gary's lap and stood with as much dignity as she could mange when two men were taking in her naked body.
"So how about a hundred dollars?" Tom grinned. Kitty tried to assess the situation. If she just refused and made to go, she got the impression these men would, and probably could, force her to stay and be their plaything.
"What do you have in mind?" she warily asked.
Tom stood up and came over to her. "Something to cool our desires, hon. With a wide sensuous mouth like yours, I reckon you could suck two cocks into satisfaction."
Kitty tried a belligerent attitude. "Two hundred dollars" each."
"Better be good, honey," Tom said, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the drool of sensual expectancy.
Gary took a coin out of his pocket, flipped it, and Tom called, "Heads"
"You're first," Gary chuckled and got up off the bed, waving his hand to offer Tom the position with Kitty. As Tom lay down, Kitty slipped her G-string on, but thought it best not to push her luck and dress any more. Tom unzipped his pants and eagerly tugged them down, with his shorts slipping off at the same time. He was semi-erect and patted the bed for Kitty to sit next to him.
From the moment her cupped hand encircled his cock, he was stiff and in no mood for subtle foreplay. Kitty pumped him rapidly and he was groaning all the way through her massage. To bring him on even quicker, she rubbed his balls and squeezed his shaft as her hand moved up and down, slipping his foreskin over his bulbous red end.
She heard him rattle sensuously in his throat, his stomach and hips started to thrust, the well of eroticism boiled and she felt his hot come shoot out, coating his pubic hair and smothering her hand. After a while when he was still, Kitty got up, went over to the small sink in the corner of the room and washed his passion from her fingers.
When she came back, Tom was sitting, exhausted on the dressing table and Gary had taken his turn on the bed.
"Well, Kitty, you'll have to work harder with me. You can start by taking my pants off. I like to just relax and watch you," he said, his bulge already apparent.
Kitty unzipped him and as she slipped his pants down, the force of his erection was like a pent up coil, his cock springing upright.
"Take then right off, baby," he instructed, and as she did he removed his shirt. His naked body was well built and his shaft thick. She moved to sit by him, but he directed her to kneel over his chest facing away. His cock was massive and Kitty gave him a two-handed massage, with his hands soon sneaking around her body and palming her breasts. She sensed he was not going to be a fast wank man, so she kept up a steady pace.
After ten minutes solid action, his stomach started to rise and fall quicker, and the stimulation got to him. Kitty knew he would be breathing heavy soon. His hand came away from her breasts, but only because they had another destination. Gary slipped a finger under her loins from the rear and poked a finger into her clit. He matched her rhythm as he finger fucked her and when his shaft grew hot and near the moment of ejaculation, Gary pushed another probing finger into her ass, deep and hard. It was tight and sore. He called her name and shoot out, the strength of his coming soaking the bed and leaving a sticky stain as the evidence of the passion.
Kitty waited for him to become still. She slowly got up and dressed. Taking the money they'd left on the side, she slipped out and ran to her car. As she sped away, Sam was sitting in his auto watching her.
Rhonda had been at the motel three hundred miles from her hometown for three days since she'd gone on the run. She sat on the bed in her room, looking at a map, wondering where she would go to now. She had to find a job, the money she'd taken with her was nearly all gone. Rhonda had wanted to telephone Kitty but thought it best just to disappear.
The room was cheap and she ate at the diner just a mile down the highway, trying to keep herself to herself, telling the manger she was on business. As it was raining tonight, she decided to get a take-out and eat in her room. She wondered what was on the TV?
The tap on the door was light, hardly audible.
"Room service," the female voice said in a bored fashion, then added, "Clean towels, lady." Rhonda reluctantly put her burger down and sauntered over to open the door. A small Latina stood with an armful of white towels. Rhonda smiled and started to take one.
The woman moved aside, a big man pushed in, grabbed Rhonda, and covered her mouth with his large hand. She was bundled down on the bed and two other men rushed in, tying her wrists behind her back. The first man taped her mouth over.
Then the familiar figure of Sam walked in, gave the woman playing the maid a wad of bills, and closed the door.
"We've been looking for you, Rhonda. You've put us to a lot of trouble. Not to mention the disappointed Tom felt. He is a very important man."
"So why did you run away, Rhonda?" Sam said, then laughed as she mumbled through her bound mouth. He signaled to the men to drag her up. He moved very close to her face, his defined but cruel features adjacent to her trembling and beautiful black face.
"You must learn obedience, Rhonda," he sneered and cupped her chin tightly in his hand. He half walked away, looked at the men and snapped out, "Strip her." Her struggles were useless as they ripped her jeans and panties off, then without untying her wrists, tore and cut her blouse and bra, until she was left sobbing, scared and naked in front of Sam.
"From now on, Rhonda, you will do exactly what I say. You can have a good life, pretty clothes and the hours of work will not be onerous. But if you disobey, you will be punished. Do you understand?"
She nodded her head.
"But can I trust you, Rhonda?" It was a rhetorical question. "I will have to discipline you. And to make sure you remember, your punishment will be videos, so you can be reminded in the future of my anger." Sam snapped a finger. One of the men left the room. They stood silently, Rhonda aware the other two men were grinning sensuality at her nakedness. After a few minutes the man came back and gave a hand held video to Sam. He sat in a chair by the window, was handed a glass and bottle of Vermouth, leaned over and put the TV on, and adjusted the sound so it was deafeningly loud. He poured himself a drink and shouted above the din.
"We couldn't decide who would have you, Rhonda as all my men wanted you. So we decided they could all take your body. There is no point in protesting or screaming. No one will hear you. He turned the sound up even more as the first man moved in and pushed Rhonda down on her back, and while the other two held her still he took hold of her legs, pushed them part and fucked her hard. The other two watched and thought about their own turn to rape the gorgeous woman.
As the three men screwed her in different positions for the next hour, Sam sat and videos everything.
The Deep Creek Diner was a perfect cover. Kitty and Rhonda went on working there. When Sam got clients interested in them, he would take them to lunch to the diner and they could view the girls in an innocent way before making an offer.
There was even a code for what the men wanted and was based on the menu. Sam would sit at his usual table with the men and if they decided on Kitty or Rhonda, then they would order coffee either black or white depending on which girl they had selected.
Sam insisted the men choose what they wanted the girls to do and the session later would not deviate. He was a pedantic sex master with all his girls.
"Are you looking for straight sex?" he would ask them as they perused the menu, "Or something kinky." Whatever it was - oral, anal, toys or bondage - the price would be settled and then their sexual predilection was conveyed to the girls via the menu. Order number twenty-two, which was chicken and a salad, and it meant, a good screw after a taster of oral sex.
Kitty and Rhonda had been performing for the men Sam introduce them to for over a year. It was late September and their owner looked pleased with the latest deal. He called Kitty over and ordered from the menu, giving her the code for what this customer required in the way of sexual favors for the evening. There was one he didn't know how to signal and it was a new request. The guy wanted both the girls for the night.
They got to the Bravo Motel and knew it would be one of the usual rooms. The manager got a retainer from Sam to keep these available. It was to be number seventeen tonight. The light was already on when they arrived, and the customer opened the door for them.
Over the year the ages of the clients had been between thirty and sixty. They were invariable businessmen. This one was different. Youngish, no more than twenty-five, he was slim, dark wavy hair and nervous, darting hazel eyes, with rimless spectacles. Rhonda wasn't sure he had the stamina for both of them.
"Come on in," he quietly ushered them and for the first five minutes talked about inconsequential matters. Kitty took him to be one of the shy type and she decided to take the initiative.
"So what is it you want?" she asked, knowing the arrangements had already be concluded and he's paid for the goods. Sam had said the guy wanted to keep them for the night and have full sex with them, straight with nothing kinky.
To her amazement he didn't respond but went looking around the room for something, occasionally smiling at them as he searched. Eventually Rhonda asked, "Have you lost something, mister?"
He continued working his way along the far wall, then all of a sudden whipped the covers of the bed and hung one over a picture of a forest scene and the other over the light shade.
"Are you all right?" Kitty inquired.
He sat on the bed, leaned over and turned on the radio.
"We can talk honestly now," he sighed and offered them a cigarette. Neither of them smoked and he asked if it was okay if he did. Rhonda nodded and thought it was a ridiculous question. This guy was going to screw them for money later and whether he smoked in the room or not seemed of no consequence.
To their second surprise, he produced a small Dictaphone machine and placed it on the bed as they all sat around it.
"You mind telling me what's going on, mister?" Rhonda asked.
"I'm a reporter," he answered. "We've been doing an investigative journalist story on sex slaves." The girls go nervous and started to get up.
"Please, wait. I can help you to get out of this life," he pleaded. Rhonda felt even more edgy. She remembered what happened to her when she tried to defy Sam before. The image made her shiver.
"Look, Rhonda and Kitty, I can give you a new identity and a location outside the country." He let that sink in, then added, "And a great deal of money to give me your story."
"What were you doing with those covers, mister?" Kitty piped up.
"Our research showed us this motel has been used for sex slaves and selling your bodies is not the only way Sam makes money." He waited for them to ask but as they didn't he continued.
"These rooms are bugged. Everything you do is recorded" and the action made into videos. Makes great porno movies. There's a lucrative market for that stuff."
It took another hour's talking before Rhonda and Kitty agreed to the deal. Then for the rest of the night they told the reporter all they knew. They gave him the full details of the way they performed and as much information on the men as they knew.
This was not a simple prostitution ring. The demands were far more erotic and kinky. The reporter just let them talk and tell their own tale. Rhonda said although the sex could be straight stuff most of it wasn't. She reckoned at least half the demands were for oral or anal sex. Pausing for a moment she told him of the many group sessions where she would have to perform for parties and then submit to each man in turn.
This story was a sensation when the newspapers reported it back two years ago. But one story didn't get told. In the early hours of the morning, while the girls were telling their story, the atmosphere in room seventeen at the Deep Creek Motel became charged with sensuality as the tales were told. When it was time to leave, first Kitty took a shower while the reporter packed up the recorder and brought the auto around to the front of the motel. Then Rhonda decided to also have a shower.
Kitty sat in the auto, and the reporter went back to the room to hurry Rhonda along. As he went into the room, the beautiful shape of Rhonda was deliciously bending over to pick up a towel she'd dropped on the floor, having just come out of the shower. Flushed with a night of lurid tales and related sexual experiences, the reporter was overcome with desire. He grabbed Rhonda around her waist, wrestling with her, as she protested. They struggled and fell on the bed, and holding Rhonda down, the reporter unzipped and forced his heated cock into the roundness of her ass. Their coupling was first a quick session of anal sex, then the reporter rolled her over and fucked her clit hard and fast. It wasn't rape but Rhonda was more a passive receptor of his demands and overpowering passion than a willing partner.
Many months later when the story of the sex slaves had appeared in the newspaper, the motel was sold and the new owners were decorating. To their surprise they found a hidden camera in room seventeen. And it showed a very erotic fifteen minutes of video.
What the reporter had forgotten was when they were ready to leave the room on that fateful night, he'd taken the covers over the hidden cameras down. So when he took Rhonda, fucking and screwing her pussy and ass, the session had been videoed.
How do I know this story in so much detail? I was that reporter, and now I've lost my job and live in a far away country. Still, there are compensations. I have two women who look after my needs and earn money for us by entertaining the local men. Rhonda and Kitty know so many tricks, which they sell to the customers and practice on me when they are not performing.
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