© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster
After helping with her whoring, Christina lashes out at Alex.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Wednesday afternoon, April 3rd
Christina lay motionless, face down in the center of the king-sized mattress. The comforter and blanket were in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed; the cover sheet was a rumpled mess, tangled a bit around one of her legs. The fitted sheet was pulled off one of the corners at the head of the bed; the result of her grabbing at it with her clenched fists as she tried to hold on. Her head was between the numerous pillows scattered about. They seemed to get in the way more than help. After all, she wasn't there to sleep, even though she felt like she could doze off any second.
Her body was covered in sweat. She'd not factored the room temperature against the physical effort she'd been exerting. She'd gone for initial comfort, not wanting to be cold once she'd removed her clothes, and knowing being under covers would be too restrictive. That caused her silky skin to bead up almost from the start.
Her hair was a mess as a result, mattered with perspiration, not to mention a huge load of cum deposited there a couple of hours before. It was mostly dried now, but the sweat made it stickier, like a gooey mousse that was anything but stylish.
Her pussy tingled, and her ass burned. Both were gaping open. The cum leaking down from her open asshole was slowly running through the splayed lips of her cunt, mixing with the load that had been deposited there in between the one in her hair and that last one in her ass.
The marks on the reddened cheeks of that spectacular ass were in the shape of handprints. It was a welcome change from the whipping she'd taken with a belt
the previous
Wednesday. Although that one wasn't nearly as severe as what she'd endured during her night as a true whore.
It lasted just ten blows compared to almost three times that amount she received just prior to fucking strangers for money in a seedy motel in order to repay her bull for the indiscretion of fucking two of his employees without his permission.
While the spanking was much more intense, the overall effects wouldn't be as long-lasting. She was cognizant of that, even thankful, given that she'd be leaving on vacation in three days. It looked like she'd be able to wear a bikini after all. That is if Gerard would let her stop wearing the chastity belt that had been cramping her life for the past twelve days. As she lay there recovering from the sexual assault she'd literally begged for, she hoped she
was already
done wearing it.
He was in the shower, their three hours together having gone by quickly. It's all he could commit to her with his busy schedule. After all, he'd also had to carve out time for her every time she needed to go to the bathroom. While she'd been true to her word, her bodily functions operating like a finely tuned machine with predictable intervals, he still had to stop whatever he was doing to make sure she did as she was supposed to.
She whined about not having more time with him, which was what caused him to spank her
after
they'd finished fucking. She should have known. That's what caused him to whip her at the beginning of the previous encounter. She'd tried to negotiate for more time then as well.
She'd used the fact that she'd had to pay for the hotel rooms. He told her he wasn't coming to her house again, and that the beds at the gyms were off limits. If she wanted him to fuck her, she'd have to come up with the where under those guidelines. She bitched about the cost of the room, and how they'd have it until the next day. He countered that there were plenty of motels that charged by the hour.
She wanted no part of that, knowing it would be a harsh reminder of the last one of that type she'd been in. She wanted to be comfortable. She wanted to feel special. She wanted to be a slut instead of the whore she'd been told she was for days. But the collar around her neck said otherwise. So did the large pile of five dollar bills on the nightstand.
There were far more than the first time she'd met with Gerard after her night of reflection, as she'd come to think of the events that transpired while she was blindfolded, drugged, and whored out. It was more a night of correction, in that it reset her mind as to what was expected of her in her relationship with him.
Her indiscretion had been an innocent mistake in a way, taking liberties with her new lifestyle, but allowing her world as a hotwife without boundaries to cross into the one that had many. She'd fucked two of Gerard's employees, not thinking that they were off limits. Not knowing. And even though those two incredible men did, ignorance of Gerard's rules was no excuse and she knew it.
They were management in his world, working with him every day. Yet they were also a part of her training as a cocksucker. They were familiar to her. That made the decision at the time to seem safe.
It wasn't.
She should have sought out Gerard's permission instead of thinking with her pussy. In her mind, she was rightfully held accountable. It was that exact kind of discipline she'd been missing in her life. Well, not exact. She never would have foreseen the threat of heroin or pure cocaine being injected into her veins, instead settling for the 'safer' option of highly concentrated THC wax dabs, smoked over and over again throughout the ordeal in three hour intervals. That unnerving development was unexpected. Still, her feelings about it were hard to explain.
Her upbringing had been difficult, to say the least. In many ways, it had been cruel. She referred to her mother as an evil cunt for a reason. After all, being whipped for the sake of being whipped, all in the name of archaic religious beliefs that proclaimed your body was pure and wasn't to be used or even touched sexually as a teen, sent mixed signals galore. Catholicism was nothing but a bizarre juxtaposition to a young Christina. Don't dare have sex before marriage, but don't use birth control afterward. It made no sense, especially since the rules were founded on centuries of passed down guilt, and enforced by men allegedly sworn to celibacy. Was it any wonder that her mother took to physical punishment to deter any slutty behavior before it ever could start?
Yet the moment Gerard's thick belt struck her fleshy bottom in that musty, rundown motel room, making her account for the sins she'd committed in the pursuit of pure carnal gratification, it felt right. Even through the intense pain, she felt at peace with what was happening. In that dark, naughty place in her mind, she actually got turned on by it.
The condition her mother actually created, however; the one she hadn't factored into the equation as she tried to 'save' her daughter's soul through the flesh of her ass, was the association Christina would forever make. Having her ass disciplined would automatically become associated with sex. The harder and more brutal the beating, the nastier the thoughts of being used sexually would build inside her. It linked all the way back to her adolescence, and how acting like a slut would require repentance in the form of a burning backside. It was a strange sexual cycle, and she was suddenly immersed in it once again. But this time it was with the added satisfaction of actually having sex.
Her current frame of mind was slanted by the slight variation of being a whore. Yes, what she'd just done with Gerard definitely fit into the slut category, but the collar on her neck was temporarily branding her as the former, because that's what he wanted her to be in the times they were apart.
She was severely limited in what she could do. Her pussy and ass were off limits, access to those holes restricted by her chastity belt. She had only her mouth to offer, and the price for it's use had been set at five dollars. She was being viewed as nothing more than a street corner variety whore. However, she was still expected to bring in good money nonetheless.
The first Wednesday she and Gerard had hooked up, she'd only had a few days to
work
. The vast majority of the blowjobs she'd given were to her husband, which was understandable. Proximity, availability... his horniness; it wasn't a surprise that he was her best customer. She'd sucked him off that first Saturday afternoon, almost as a lark. The novelty of him handing her a fiver and her immediately taking him somewhere private and quickly performing the task was a turn on for both of them. It never wore thin.
She felt compelled to let Gerard know right away what she'd done that first time, not wanting to trip up after seemingly getting herself back on track by becoming a full-service whore just the night before. To her delight, he wasn't upset. Instead he informed her she was going to continue in that capacity, if for no other reason than it amused him.
She sucked Alex off twice more that Saturday, four times on Sunday, and then twice each on Monday and Tuesday, both before and after work. She also dropped to her knees for him before he left the house that morning. And that was part of the deal. She refused to do it the privacy of their bedroom, reserving the right to make that off limits, stating it was strictly for hotwife activities.
So it was that she had twelve crisp five dollar bills from her husband, in addition to seven more she'd earned by sucking off Miguel and Billy a few times. She hadn't had the opportunity to branch out any farther than her immediate neighborhood. Still, Gerard was pleased with the amount she earned for him. She'd given nineteen blowjobs and made $95 in a little over four days, which was commendable in his eyes. Yet he also warned her about playing things too safe. She wasn't much of a whore if she was only going to suck off people she was comfortable with. He told her that the next time they hooked up the following Wednesday, he would expect a lot more money because of there being more days available to her. He also demanded a lot more diversity in her clientele.