Episode VII
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Fred was doubled up with laughter. "See, nothin'. Nothin'. She gotch yer all's money an' whadda you got. Nothin'. Ya'll ain't got shit. Ha ha hneh hneh." He reached out and grabbed Doralea's tit through the jacket. "But I got --" He gave the tit three hard shakes then broke out in laughter. "What'd y'all lose on that'n? Two, three hundred."
"I'll track that bitch down and I'll -- I'll get her ass fired."
"Yeah, sure, whatta ya gonna say. Ya practically raped the girl, ya solicted 'er, an' now yer gonna -- what, cry to yer mommy?"
The girl was back at the door, hands covering her breasts demurely.
"Uh, guys, I -- uh, I gotta have my clothes back. Really, I -- "
"Come on in, baby. Couldn't stay away, eh? Well, come on in."
"See, Fred, she came back."
"Yeah, well. Ya gonna give'r 'er clothes?"
"Hell no, we bought them clothes, baby."
"You didn' come back for no clothes, didja. Come on over here."
She slowly walked over to Mal, who leaned down to kiss her on the mouth and began pawing and clawing her ass.
The girl did not resist nor cooperate as she was passed from man to man, each fondling and caressing his favorite part. Fred went to join the fun, leaving Doralea to watch the reflection in the window. The men folded the maid over a chair and held her down while Jimmy fucked her from behind.
They each took a turn, filling her cunt, her ass, her mouth. None held off for long and they all urged their fellows on from where they had collapsed. Mike laid her on her back on the table, and fed his cock into her face, fucking her mouth while Fred ate her cunt.
After Mike shot his load, Wayne picked the young girl up and flipped her over the couch, her soft belly folded over Doralea's arm, pressed against the elbow. The maid was limp and mewed delightedly with each shallow breath.
Doralea turned her head to examine the body bent so lewdly over her arm. The crotch of her panty hose had now been ripped completely to the waist. Her full ass cheeks roundly forced their way through, gleaming whitely inches from Doralea's eyes. The girl's head lay on the couch seat, her arms hanging limply on each side.
She turned to look at Doralea and smiled, exhausted.
Doralea was startled by the depth of the blue of her eyes.
Wayne stepped up behind her and Doralea turned her head to see what he was doing. She gasped at the sight of his cock as he pressed it along the ass furrow of the trembling girl draped over her arm. Fred had been exaggerated its size, but it was huge. She had seen small pricks not that much bigger than the veins which wound their purple way around the monster cock.
Wayne used his fingers to glaze his log with come that he scooped from the maid's cunt. Then, he guided it carefully with both hands and plunged it into the nearly comatose girl. She stiffened, her head lifting half a foot off the seat.
Her mouth opened and her throaty keen of delight bounced off the walls.
As Doralea watched Wayne's huge cock move slowly in. He worked it into her cunt with short jabs until his large paunch covered her small white ass. Then the maid went limp again.
Doralea watched, fascinated, as that huge drill was slowly withdrawn, glistening, huge veins throbbing. Her own belly tightened sympathetically to see such a huge invader pulling out of the shivering body.
Wayne laid one massive paw on the top of the maid's hips, spanning them easily and holding her pelvis against Doralea's arm as if in a vise. He started to pump, gradually increasing his speed. The small body draped over the couch flopped like a rag doll, each driving blow filling her completely, then emptying her on its withdrawal. She was convulsing now, panting through her nearly continuous climax.
Doralea reacted as if she were being pumped. With each drive the couch bounced and she could feel the massive, stiff rod within the soft belly as it rolled over her arm. She watched the jiggling butt so close to her eyes and the giant prick plunging in and out, hard and glistening with the juices of the girl's cunt.
The maid gripped the nap of the carpet with both hands, anchoring her body against the wild thrusting from behind. The sloppy, juicy slurping of the young maid's cunt mingled with the open-throated grunts forced from her mouth with each plunge.
The man was silent through it all, until, at the end, he began growling deeply, then suddenly stiffened and howled. He jammed fiercely against the shuddering flesh sheathing his huge cock. Everything seemed to freeze for several minutes until he finally relaxed, slowly pulling his now limp monster from her cunt as he collapsed to the floor behind the couch.
The maid lay limply spent. Doralea could not tell if she whimpered from pain or desire. The girl released her grip on the carpet and relaxed into the couch cushions.
Doralea stroked her sweat-damp hair. The maid looked up at Doralea and, smiling weakly, licked her lips.
Fred helped the maid to her feet and led her around the couch to stand between Doralea and the glass. Jizz dripped from the corner of her mouth and out her cunt onto her thighs. She swayed backlit through the windows.
Fred forced her to her knees between Doralea's legs and pushed her head down.
"Now, eat this bitch's cunt. Do it. Ya know ya'll like it."
When the girl raised her startling blue eyes. The maid was unsure, seeming to ask Doralea for permission. Doralea tilted her head to one side and, smiling, nodded.
The maid then smiled and bent down to her task, straining to maintain the eye contact while applying her tongue and lips to Doralea's pussy. Doralea shifted on the couch to accommodate her as best she could and was lost quickly in a gushing orgasm.
She scarcely felt her wrists unbound, the tux jacket pulled off.
Through a fog from a distance Doralea heard Fred give the room-service girl the Edwardian jacket as she left.
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Doralea was rolled onto her face on the couch, her knees on the floor. Her arms were pulled behind her and each wrist was tied to the waist harness at the small of her back. The fog was clearing as she was led out the sliding glass door onto the balcony. She looked out over the city until the was turned and her bound wrists were lashed to the balcony rail.
Fred left her, returning inside.
The men got the chips and the cards and the table back in order and sat down to play, ignoring Doralea who stood naked in a cool night breeze, the city behind and below her. Her head cleared more as she watched the group of men play poker. She was unable to hear, but could watch the movement of the game, hands played and chips moving to the winners.
The dickey between her tits moved with the gusty breeze, rubbing her stiff nipples. The breeze played with her cunt hair and she shifted her weight, trying to find a quiet, stable stance. The movement of her swaying breasts again rubbed the nipples against the stiff white cloth. As she watched the card game, she was aware of the city passing behind and far beneath her, she wondered what they could see, what they could think.
She could see that Fred was faring poorly, his stacks of chips nearly gone. Suddenly, he lept to his feet and charged toward her, through the balcony door.
He untied her wrists from the balcony. "Come on, bitch."
He roughly pushed her toward the door. "Come on."
She stumbled over the threshold, almost falling to the carpet inside the room. Fred pushed her ahead of him to the table.
"Look at her, guys." He turned her around, trying to display her to the other fellas still seated at the table. "Look, she's gorgeous ain't she? Look at these tits," he reached around to lift them from behind, "D'ja ever see any better tits?" He turned her again and stood beside her. "And this ass," he gave it a light slap, "I mean, come on, guys. Bend over, Baby."
He pushed her forward as she complied with his command, displaying her ass and her cunt beneath her smooth round cheeks.
"She's worth it easy. You can see that. Hell, I paid two grand fer her fer the night. Come on, guys." He surprised her by lifting her and setting her on the table, legs draped over the side. "She's easy worth it. Come on."
"You puttin' her in the pot, Fred?"
"Yeah, yeah, waddaya think. Come on, I call."
A shiver of suppressed excitement thrilled through Doralea. She was surprised that Fred had paid so much for her and she felt particularly vulnerable to be the object of the bet. To be the bet. To be the pussy in the kitty. She blushed as they accepted her as Fred's marker and she began to think about which she wanted to win, and what it might mean.
"I fold," said Chet.
"Me, too," said Wayne, his voice dry with sorrow.
Mike showed his hand, "Full house, sixes over Jacks."
Jimmy showed his, "Four treys."
Having beat everybody but Jimmy, Mike tossed his cards onto the table, grumbling.
"Damn!" Fred slammed his heart flush down, rattling chips, nearly bouncing Doralea off the table. He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Hot damn, baby, looks like you're mine tonight," gloated Jimmy.
"Come on, Jimmy, share. Ya know what we was plannin'," whined Chet.
"Sure I do. An' we can do sum'min' -- but now, it's my. say. "'Sides, Fred's gone. I won 'er, she's mine."
"That's so," said Wayne, "an1 I'm outta here, too, less I get somma that thang."
"Aw, y'll get some. Don' worry, Wayne. You an' Mal go 'n' get the thing. Go on, get it."
Wayne and Mal went into the other room of the suite and Doralea heard furniture being dragged. Meanwhile, Chet sat watching Jimmy ogle Doralea. His eyes drank in the sight of her sitting on the table, wrists behind her back, the dickey hanging between her luscious tits, her hair cascading loosely around her shoulders and down her back. He reached into his crotch to rearrange his cock in his pants, grinning with anticipation all the while.
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The other two returned, with a large pillory, set waist high on a platform on wheels. Doralea, instantly knew what they had in mind and swallowed, trying to still her mind to the acquiescence. Jimmy and Chet helped her off the table and, each holding an elbow, guided her over to the wooden contraption.
They helped her up onto the stage and Mal crouched down and began to rub her thigh, slowly inching toward her hair-masked cunt. Chet stood beside her and roughly rubbed her swelling tits. Jimmy and Wayne watched as the other two fondled Doralea, and as she responded. Jimmy reached behind her to free her hands and she lightly guided Chet with one hand and rubbed Mal's head with the other. Mal reached between her legs and felt her ass, his forearm rubbing her wet cunt lips.
Jimmy opened the top bar of the pillory, then took her wrists firmly and turned her to face the frame. Mal, behind her now, held her hips, pressing her ass against his flaccid cock. Jimmy pulled her wrists toward him, over the open bar. Her throat touched the rounded central wooden notch, her arms fit on the smaller ones on the sides. She had expected that her wrists would be clamped beside her head, but Jimmy pulled them forcefully to him and Chet closed the top over her upper arms and throat. Her arms were held out-stretched horizontally, her hands clutching the air.
She could bend her elbows, but not raise her head. Jimmy tied his tie around her head to cover her eyes. She could bend her knees, but could not get down to kneel. She wagged her butt from side to side, rolling Mel's cock over and between her cheeks.
"She likes it." Mel sounded surprised.
She felt hands stroking, fondling and prodding; seeking, finding and entering. The men explored her trapped body freely and intensely. She did what she could to accommodate them. She wanted them to do everything, go all the way, all the ways.
"Fuck, man, Mal, can't get it up again."
