Real Estate Games

Welcome to the world of Realtor Games.

If this is your first visit, you might want to start at the beginning... part 1. While each part can be read as a stand-alone story, they will make a lot more sense if you read them in sequence.

If you are a returning reader, thanks for coming back.

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Realtor Games

Part 13

#2

Uranus Avenue

Solar System Estates was a planned community, initially designed for the now defunct car plant's middle managers. Three- and four-bedroom houses with two car garages on a third acre of land encircled a central pond. Each ring of streets was named after a different planet... to include Pluto which was still considered a planet at the time. When first built in the 1990's, Solar Systems Estates was THE place to live in Merryville. Twenty-five years later, while still an upscale neighborhood, it was starting to show its age.

Most of the current residents were soon to be refuges of the closing car factory. More houses than not displayed For Sale signs in their front yards. Like most everybody else in Merryville, the residents of Solar Systems Estates were so desperate there was very little they wouldn't do to get out from under their mortgages and move on with their lives.

Mark and I drove down Neptune, turned right on Saturn, and then left onto Uranus... a short, eight house cul-de-sac.

Victoria Browning -- a moderately attractive woman in her mid to late thirties -- came out to meet us as we walked up her driveway. Her loose-fitting blouse jiggled as she approached, suggesting its occupants were both large and unrestrained. After saying our hellos, she led us to the front door, giving Mark ample time to ogle her rather expansive back side.

Not good

, I thought.

She's far too eager.

There's no telling what Mark's going to make this woman do

.

The house was unremarkable. They hadn't spent a fortune on decorating but, other than the white shag carpet in the living room, it wasn't a total disaster. In better times, I could have sold it for just a few thousand less than what she was asking. In better times...

As Mark made a token perusal of the home, Victoria disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an assortment of snacks. Two or three blouse buttons magically became undone in the process.

"There's beer and wine in the kitchen. Stronger stuff in the pantry. I wasn't sure what you'd like," Victoria said as Mark returned from his abbreviated tour.

She bent down to place the tray of appetizers on a coffee table and, in the process, gave Mark an unobstructed view down her partially unbuttoned top. "If these don't please you, I'm sure I can find something that will."

"Those do look delicious." Mark picked up a small canape with his left hand while his right reached into Victoria's blouse. "And such generous servings," he said while fondling a breast.

"I was talking about the refreshments." Her voice feigned annoyance but she made no attempt to move away.

"Miss Moorehead," Mark said while giving Victoria's breast one last squeeze. "I left a small bag in the back of your car. Would you mind fetching it for me while Mrs. Browning pours me a beer?"

"How about you?" Victoria asked me. "Would you like something to drink?"

"A glass of white wine would be nice," I said. "And pour one for yourself as well. I think you're going to need it."

Having absolutely no idea what evil game Mark was planning, I dutifully trotted out to the car. I hadn't paid any attention to the black, cloth bag when he threw it in the back seat earlier. It looked like something men used to hold their workout clothes when going to the gym. However, when I looked inside...

'

Oh shit. I hope this doesn't mean what I think it does.

'

I returned to the white shag covered living room where the negotiation process had already begun.

"That's not enough." Victoria was sitting on the couch, minus her blouse and slacks.

"Make me a counteroffer." Mark sat in a recliner, fully dressed.

"How about three thousand per pint," she said.

"Two thou per pint. Take it or leave it."

"You know I have no choice." Her boobs bounced as she threw a magazine across the room in frustration.

Mark turned to see me. "How about you Miss Moorehead? Spectator or participant?"

"I didn't know I had a choice."

"You get the same offer as Mrs. Browning. Two thousand dollars for every pint you can hold."

"In addition to my normal commission?"

"Yes, my mercurial mistress. Over and above your normal three percent."

I nodded my consent.

"Very good. Now, while I prepare the equipment, I suggest you two place your clothing in a safe place. This might get messy."

"We're not doing this in the bathroom?" Victoria asked.

"Certainly not," Mark answered. "That would be way too cramped and uncomfortable. Your living room will be perfect."

Despite what some may surmise, this newest game wasn't a drinking contest. When Mark said he'd pay Victoria two thousand dollars for every pint, he was not talking about how many pints of beer she could pour down her throat. That would have been way too easy.

The name of this game was Enema. Victoria Browning and I would get two thou for every pint of liquid Mark squirted up our ass. There was no intermission. No letting some out to make room for more. To get four thousand, we'd have to hold two pints. If we found room for four pints of excess liquid someplace in our anatomy, we'd get an eight thousand dollar pay day.

But that wasn't why I consented to what had to be the dirtiest, most disgusting game Mark had yet to dream up. I wasn't in it for the money. My sales commission alone would pay the bills for one or two months. The reason I was willing to let Mark shove a rubber tube six inches up my rectum is that I knew there was more to his shitty scheme than met the eye. This was act one of at least a two-act play. And to get to the finale, one had to endure the entire performance.

Mark prepared a solution of tepid water and green food coloring while Victoria and I got completely naked. Mark then helped us into our "competition positions". Using a wooden coffee table for support, we placed our knees on the floor and our forearms on the skinny edges of the table. She on one end, I on the other... facing each other.

Getting a good look at Victoria's naked body, I wouldn't call her fat. However, she was far from slim... except in her belly. For a woman with big boobs and ass, she had a remarkably flat tummy. Almost as flat as mine. And while our breasts were of similar bulk, hers were long, skinny and tended to sag towards her belly button while mine still had sufficient muscle tone to ensure my nipples stuck out and not down. However, in our current "doggy style" posture, all four of our titties were stretching towards the lush, white shag carpet which covered the Browning's living room.

"Mrs. Browning," Mark said as he started pulling props out of his mysterious black bag. "Since we are guests in your house, you get the best equipment."

He pulled out a strange combination of rubber tubing and balls, plus what looked like the small air pump a nurse uses when checking blood pressure. He laid the implements of negotiation on the table, bent over, and turned Victoria's head towards his so he could kiss her. Like an ignorant sheep being led to slaughter, she kissed him back... for longer than I thought appropriate. Not that I cared how long she kissed my client. I just wanted to get the show on the road so we could close the deal and move on to the next house.

Next came the oil. First on his hands, warming it up. Then on her shoulders, her back, around to her slim, tight stomach, and finally forward to her tits. Her dangling tits. I couldn't see them from my position, the table was blocking my view, but I would bet pennies to Krugerrands that her nipples were harder than diamonds before he transitioned down to the lower parts of her anatomy... because that was his routine... what he did with all the other women he'd seduced in the last week.

And what I prayed he would do with me before the morning was over.

He gave an equal amount of attention to her inner thighs, ass cheeks and vagina before he first touched the target of his attention. Her anus. Her rectum. Her asshole. Mark was planning to break one of nature's primary laws and shove something into an orifice that was designed for outgoing traffic only.

He started with the well lubricated middle finger of his left hand. Next came the business end of the aforementioned device. Six inches of rubber tubing went in first. He paused to give Victoria a chance to accustom herself to the invading probe and also to liberally lube the next intruder... the two-inch-wide deflated ball that was attached to the tube.

It took several attempts to get the ball past her natural defenses, but greed and desperation are powerful allies. Victoria finally found sufficient control to relax her muscles and allow the ball entry. Two addition lengths of tubing extended from the opposite end of the now hidden ball. The smaller one allowed for airflow into the ball, letting it expand to a size much larger than her sphincter could pass. Once inflated, a petcock on the hose prevented the air from escaping, reassuring the ball, and everything behind it, would not leave Victoria's body. The slightly larger tube would carry water into her intestines... one pint at a time.

After Victoria was readied, Mark turned his attention to me. My treatment was similar to hers, except my kiss included a bit of tongue, as did my pussy. And instead of a rubber ball shoved up my ass, all I got was a thin tube... at least six inches worth. But I didn't complain. Not after witnessing what my table mate endured.

Properly positioned, Mark gave me another kiss... and Victoria's boobs another squeeze... before he got down to the business at hand. Using a large syringe with graduated markings, he sucked in a pint of warm water from his supply in the kitchen, plugged the syringe into the larger tube, and squirted it up Victoria's ass. He closed the petcock on Victoria's water tube and then went back to the kitchen to get an equal amount of water for me.

Except he didn't. We were positioned so I was facing the kitchen, where Mark kept his supply of warm, colored water. I could see him the entire time, but Victoria's back was to the kitchen. She only got a glimpse of him when he came around the table to administer my share of the water. The syringe was only half full when he used it on me. What she couldn't see, was that it was completely full when administered to her. Mark was giving her twice what he was giving me, letting her think we were getting equal treatment.

Quite the romantic bastard... in his cheating, sadistic way.

Victoria was only two pints into the ordeal when she first showed signs of discomfort. Her face flushed and a slight grimace appeared on her lips.

"Are you experiencing any pain?" Mark asked while stroking her ass cheeks. "Just say the word and I'll pull the plug... so to speak."

"I'm fine," she said. "Just keep it coming. I'm good for another gallon or two."

He administered my half portion, gave my nipples a minute of attention, and then returned to the kitchen to refill his weapon.

Victoria gasped as another full pint went up her tube, through the restricting ball and into her body. Her flush turned into a sweat. Her grimace, a definite frown.

"That's six thousand dollars' worth." Mark traced a finger down her backbone and then ran his hand under her slightly enlarged belly. "Not a bad morning's work."

"And I'm just getting started. Why don't you quit talking and start filling me up?"

"As you wish."

I got another half pint and a quick back rub before he plowed another pint into Victoria. She again refused his offer to quit. I didn't know how far she expected to go but, carrying only half the load she had, I was starting to get uncomfortable. And, unlike her inflatable rubber butt dam, the only thing keeping the water from shooting out my ass like a geyser was my personal muscle control.

I let Mark shoot another two grand of liquid up my rectum before I called it quits. He pulled the tube out of my ass and I made a bee line for the nearest bathroom, walking as quickly as practical while squeezing my sphincter muscles shut as tightly as I could. I did not want to be the one who defiled Victoria's white shag carpet with green, possibly brown, water.

They were still at it when I returned. Victoria remained on her knees... head cradled in her arms on the coffee table. She looked like she was pregnant with twin hippopotamuses. Her once flat belly swelled to the sides and downward. Her skin was stretched so tight it appeared translucent; I could almost see the organs it was designed to cover. Coated in sweat, she shivered in pain.

"What the hell are you doing to her," I screamed.

"Nothing she hasn't asked for," Mark calmly replied while readying his gun for yet another salvo of gut filling liquid. "She'll let me know when she's had enough, won't you dear?"

"Don't stop," she grunted. "More. I can take a least one more."

I knelt down beside the table and stroked her hair. "How do you feel," I asked in a whisper.

"Like my insides are going to explode. Like I'm about to give birth. And yet, my pussy's on fire. There's something about your client that makes my nipples hard every time he touches me."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. He has the same effect on me," I whispered into her ear, just as Mark pushed the plunger... for the last time.

Victoria's eyes rolled back into her head. Her entire body tensed as her mouth opened to let out a scream that could only come from a dying animal. Then I heard a loud pop, like a champagne bottle being uncorked. Mark's inflatable butt plug ended up against the far wall... shot out of Victoria's ass with sufficient pressure to overcome whatever law of physics was originally keeping it in place.

I watched in horror as a steady stream of greenish brown slime gushed out her rear like the torrent of a fire hose, soaking a good bit of the once white shag floor covering. The steady stream continued for longer than I thought possible.

Just how much of that shit had Mark shoved up her ass?

She moaned in relief as the flow finally subsided to nothing more than a trickle.

There was a good chance she'd never get the greenish brown stain out of her carpet. Not a great loss. She should have replaced it years ago.

I fetched a couple of towels, wet them with warm water and wiped down her butt and legs as she collapsed on the coffee table.

"You okay," I asked when she reopened her eyes to the world.

She took her time before answering. Felt her stomach, which had almost shrunk back to its prior state of flatness. Reached down to confirm her butt was still in one piece. And then took a healthy gulp of wine.

"Surprising good," she finally said. "Considering."

"Excellent," Mark said. "Are you ready for the second round?"

"You surely can't expect me to do that again," she said with wide opened eyes, thinking the hard part was over. "I'm fairly sure that was a once in a lifetime experience for me."

"Not to worry. That was just a preamble to the main event..."

... which took place in the master bedroom.

Nothing was straight forward with Mark Seiman. You couldn't sit down with him to negotiate the price of a house. You had to play one of his damn games. And when you thought the game was over... when you thought you had finally arrived at a reasonable price, he offered you something else. Something more... better than what you originally asked for. With a catch.

In this case, he offered to double the price increase Victoria earned in the living room. But it was a double or nothing arrangement. She either accomplished this next task or the price was back down to Mark's original low-ball offer. Even when she accepted the challenge, she didn't realize what she was up against.

An abnormally large cock. That's what she was up against, or in this case, was up against her butt. She had fifteen minutes to take the entire length of his erect penis up her recently abused ass... his balls had to hit her pussy before he'd pay. If she couldn't do it, he'd buy her house for less than she owed. If she could, he'd pay more than her outrageous asking price.

I tried to warn her. I stood behind Mark as he explained the rules of his game and violently shook my head in the "don't even think about it" direction. When she didn't get the hint, I made a fist and held my forearm up, trying to simulate the size of the snake hidden in Mark's khakis. She either didn't understand or didn't believe me. But when the negotiations were over and he stripped down to his happy birthday suit -- when Victoria finally got an up close and personal view of the anaconda that would slither up her ass -- she gasped in both fear and amazement... and it wasn't even hard yet.

"There is no fucking way that thing's going to fit inside me," she finally said after getting over the initial shock of what she'd signed up for. "Not my pussy, not my mouth, and certainly not my ass."

"Oh, I don't know," Mark said. "With a little lube and the right amount of motivation, just about anything is possible."

"How about we forget all about the last few minutes? I'll take the money for the enema; I won't charge you to replace the carpet and we'll sign the deal."

"I don't think so. That wouldn't be fair to the other ladies who held up their end of the arrangement."

"Are you saying someone's done this particular task before?"

"Well, no. But there must be a first time for everything. That's why I'm offering you such a generous bonus."

With the look of a condemned woman walking to the hangman's noose, Victoria climbed up onto her king-sized bed, placed her head in a pillow, her ass in the air and said...

"Please be gentle."

I won't say I was a willing participant in the deflowering of Victoria Browning's anal opening, but I did everything I could to make it as painless as one could reasonably expect.

Since the sight of two naked women wasn't immediately giving Mark an erection suitable for the task at hand, I sped the process with a little oral stimulation. No, I didn't talk dirty to him. That would have been impossible with his rapidly expanding penis in my mouth. As tempted as I was to suck him off then and there, it would have just delayed the inevitable. So, once I got his weapon to the hardness of tungsten steel, I squirted half a bottle of lube on its length, rubbed it in for probably longer than required, and then worked an additional dose of oil into and around Victoria's brown bud.

I sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Mark placed first one finger and then a second into Victoria's recently cleaned poop hole. He held them there for over a minute... slowly massaging... enlarging the entrance. She shivered when he removed his fingers, knowing what was coming next. I skootched over to her and ran my hands down her back in an effort to get her to relax.

"Fuck!" she screamed as his bulbous head penetrated her fragile opening.

"Relax," he told her. "I won't go any further until you're comfortable with what's in you now."

I scooted further down, ostensibly to ease the pain by caressing her ass, but the new position allowed me a great view of the action.

He waited over a minute before grabbing her hips and sliding in another inch or two deeper.

"It hurts," she said. "Hurts so bad."

"Just say the word and I'll pull out."

"No. Keep going. Just do it slow."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "Hold me. Hold my head."

I had no idea what she wanted, but I wasn't about to argue with a woman who was getting a two-inch fence post jammed into her half inch hole. I repositioned so I was sitting cross legged in front of her with a pillow in my lap and her head on the pillow, allowing me to caress her forehead and stroke her hair.