Diamond was proud of herself
by mandezulu
Warning: non-con, humiliation, creampie, anal
"Just make sure she's blonde. My publisher wants more blondes, okay? Yeah, okay whatever you fucker. Bye." Ron hung up on his model supplier, the third one he had gone through so far this year. Making dirty pictures for his publisher would on the surface, appear to be easy work. Find a bitch decent looking, have her shit shaved and rub some baby oil on her pussy and snap a few shots, right? No, far from it. This was a business, plain and simple. Yeah, he did get to see 5 or 6 pussies a day, old and young, tight and loose as an old catcher's mitt. All kinds you name it Ron saw it and more than likely had fucked it too. These whores were in no position to complain and who'd listen anyway?
They wanted to know if they "had a chance to get on the cover" if they would suck my cock. That was nearly a daily offer. If she looked innocent he'd take her on the couch, hard and fast, skip the blowjob and breed her meat hole. The look of shock on their faces never got old. The more experienced ones he took a pass on but asked Ron's goons to plow her out, they never turned down free strange. These young women were cum dumpster college drop outs hoping to be the next Kimmy K, thinking they could get a better deal by greasing his weasel. That was like a handshake in this business, not reinventing the wheel but these young whores thought they had invented sex. Dumb whores he passed on to his hired muscle after the shoot was over. Let little Miss Shaved Cunt get some of that hard pounding action, getting slapped around, put her in her place, humble her ass some. It was just business. They were the meat and he was the butcher, that's all this was. It got boring, as most things do in life.
Smooth and artificial looking barbie cunts were all the rage, all the porn girls had those unless they were MILFs, but those old bags were stretched out from fucking blacck dick just to get paid. That's what happened to industry women who needed more cash, agents put them with the darks who stretched out their cunts, floppy meat curtains galore. More likely they got hooked on the pipe and always needed cash on hand to score after a shoot. The dark men knew where to get cheap shit to snort. Sold their soul to the pipe, with the dope man holding on to her leash. That indignant look on the blonde face when Ron told them he didn't hire meat curtain bitches got him laughing every time. A whore always thinks they're special, old or young, they all had a big chip on their shoulder.
Ron was in the younger pussy business though, Hustler and Playboy "lightly" edited pussies with lighted sets and baby oil. The MILF game was a different ballgame, not his style. He liked getting new comers, dumb blonde whores a dime a dozen, they were mostly still tight, only a dozen dicks on their pussy score cards. All these whores believed that you needed to be broken in with a fuck session to get into good with the publishers.
"Yeah baby, see here you suck me off good and proper and I'll put in a good word with the top brass. You feel me? This is on you, you gotta show some initiative. Go anywhere, they'll tell you the same thing, this is a very physical job." They swallowed hard and got on their knees, afraid to say no.
The older ones didn't hesitate and dropped to their knees, pulling on the big man's zipper. He laughed to himself and sat down on the plush leather couch, ready for a good suck session. The younger whores they bucked and weren't sure, didn't want to look too easy, about half declined. If they were decent about it and didn't go back and forth teasing him, he'd let them go.
The ones who gave Ron trouble, he'd rip off their underwear and take what ever man owns, their pussy. It was therapy to Ron, forcefully taking a young blonde pussy on the couch. She had to give him an attitude, show off, disrespect him in his own place of business. Who gave them the balls to act like that? They must live with bitches posing as men who never stood up for themselves, let alone slapped a bitch to the floor, reminding her of her place.
Run your mouth bitch, see what happens. A slap. Keep running it or better yet threaten to go to the cops? You better be wet because Ron ain't using no lube on your little box. Do it the old fashioned way, position it right like a pool stick and thrust forward into her channel, dry as a dead coyote. They'd get wet after a dozen strokes, the body would help out and she'd be wet. Ron whispered he knew she was a whore when he laid eyes on her and now she was all hot and bothered for him. Some of the old in and out, in and out action and then jackpot, nut inside of her, taking his sweet time, no rush. Never use a rubber, lost all sensation with those things. Got it hard when a bitch would get that look in her eye, confidence, authority, Ron would set her straight so fast, it was the natural order of things. They turned to whiny babies after a good hard slap, fall to the floor and gasp in indignation. He'd have his belt off then, rolling it up for a good whipping. His two men watched, waiting their turn, Ron usually let them have sloppy seconds.
Was it rape? Yeah, it was rape. But what would they tell the cops? 'I went to an adult photography studio and well, got naked for several strange men and I showed them everything the good Lord gave me, my tits, ass, and spread cunt and then I was raped.' Why would the cops give a damn? They didn't. Besides, Ron knew half of them from his earlier days when he was getting established here, he ran a strip club called the Brass Rail. Half of the pigs got their dicks sucked in the back rooms, the others fucking the fresh out of highschool waitresses. There were a lot of sticky memories at the old Brass Rail. Good times but that was almost two decades ago. He had dirt on all of them, even the top cop, Commissioner Hensen. That old fag he liked trannies, from the rumor mill around the local watering holes he was cruising for sex most nights in his squad car. Pull you over for solicitation and then drive the bitch down a dark street and tell him to suck his dick or get arrested. If they were strung out they didn't want to detox in the holding cell so they blew him like he was their meal ticket.
Ron, 58, stood 6 foot and had most of his hair left, a bright white tousled mess on top of his sun tanned head. He ran the photo studio, Ron's Boutique Photo Services, with his two strong men from his boyhood streets of Philly, Joe and Cody. Those two were men accustomed to hearing no and making it turn into a yes. Strong men, rough hands, thick necks and they listened to only one man, Ron Jacobs. They knew Ron from the pen, back when they were much younger and running girls and dope in the 70s. Got caught up in some dirty business and crooked police and got evidence planted on them, some hard drugs and a pistol. Three strikes for Ron and he did the longest stretch, 25 years. He had bona fides in the street, he had a rep and good credit. Ron Jacobs was the shit.
Joe and Cody could not look more opposite, Joe was a 40 something ex-horse jockey about 5 foot, and 140 lbs soaking wet. He had dark slicked back hair and eyes dark and beady like a subway rat. He favored suits, tailored to his short stature. Despite him dressing the part, the street oozed from his pores, a cheap cologne, neck tattoos and a gold chain did him no favors. Cody was 50 years old but acted 18, flexing his bulging biceps and leaning with legs crossed in doorways, successfully looking tough. He didn't need to act too hard though, covered in tattoos, leathery skin and large veiny forearms, he looked like an juiced up old Popeye.
Ron was a good boss, he gave them cash under the table, threw them the occasional lippy broad who didn't know when to shut the fuck up till a cock was forced into her mouth. Cody and Joe weren't gay but they shared in the rewards Ron gave them, one or the other would be taking sloppy seconds after the first man was done. Joe was a big talker, but would slap a bitch in the face without hesitation. School teachers and nuns didn't walk in the door around here, so he didn't feel bad one bit about setting them straight when need be.
Cody thought of himself as a good guy but he was rough with the talent. Once he grabbed a girl, only 18, by the throat and pushed her up against the wall when she wasn't paying attention to Ron. Cody had cupped her pussy through her bedazzled jeans, growling that she was only worth what he had in his hand, nothing else. She was crying, terrified and nodded, yes sir, no sir till he let her down. He was a man of action, few words. He commanded respect from other men who saw in him his power, a stillness in his posture and a baleful gaze. "Give me a reason to knock you the fuck out" was a phrase he told the men who tried to walk in with their talent to the photoshoots. "Only pussy is in front of the camera, unless you gonna suck my dick too?" That got them back to the car, waiting like a good cucked agent. Cody had been the enforcer for Ron when they got locked up and he did take a new fish's asshole once, so horny he had to fuck some hole. Cody didn't "play" as the negroes put it. Some young men these days with shoulder length hair and slim waists looked like good cock sucker in Cody's book. Once a man was put in a vulnerable state they would offer "anything" to not be beat up.
A real man took what he wanted, his presence spoke for him, a reputation, a quiet but powerful nature. While Joe looked for an opportunity to strike, Cody looked for a reason. In the end they both got to unload their balls in some cunt or other. As fitting their personalities, Joe's cock was on the smaller end, thick at the base and tapered up to almost a point like a spear. He was circumcised but left his hair alone, preferring to look like a escaped convict from a cheap western movie, wild and crazy dark pubes. Cody had a big hammer in his pants, uncut and with a heavy set of balls, everything shaved clean. If there was to be a stand-in cock for a series of pictures he'd be the one balling the bitch, nut deep in whatever snatch Ron told him to mount. 11 inches of hard Philadelphia meat, about 5 inches around, he was a real freak of nature in that department.
