The Hotel

"Hey, look out!"

The shout startled Emily from her daydream just in time to see a huge object fill her vision. She gasped as it struck her forehead, knocking her back on her Central Park bench.

"Ow!" she cried. Holding a hand to her head she looked around for the missile that had struck her. As she turned a man jogged into view cradling a soccer ball.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked. "Sorry about that. My friend kicked the ball a little too hard. He didn't mean to hit you. Jeez, that looks like it smarts. Are you gonna be all right?"

Emily glared up at the man. "I'll be fine," she said. "Just go someplace else, okay?" She turned away in disgust. She had come to New York to get away from men, and she still couldn't. "They're the same everywhere," she thought.

Six months ago Emily had caught her boyfriend of two years cheating on her. The bastard had been screwing her assistant for the past six months and probably laughing about it behind her back. Emily had yelled and screamed and thrown all of his stuff out the window of their apartment - her apartment, really - before going in to work the next day and firing her assistant. The assistant hadn't been surprised, and retaliated by shouting descriptions of the salacious things Mark had done to her while Emily was working the department budget and calculating performance bonuses. To make it worse, Mark hadn't even tried to do any of those things with her. The bastard.

After Mark's betrayal Emily had tried to find revenge in getting laid by random men. It failed miserably despite her hard work. The one guy she had gotten back to the apartment had lost his erection when she told him she wanted to be on top. He hadn't even apologized - just yanked up his underwear, threw on his pants and stormed out, yelling something about pushy women. At the time she'd gotten angry, but now she thought maybe she had been a bit strong that night.

It was hard, though, to go to work where men were expected to obey someone in her position without questioning her decisions. After a while you got used to it, and who could blame her if she let it leak through to her personal life once in a while? Mark could, and apparently random strangers could too.

This trip to New York was her chance to clear her head. She had resolved to use the vacation as a mental reset, a way to simmer down some of her tendency to boss men about. Yes, men were still stupid, but maybe she just had to speak their language in order to snag a good one. When in Rome...

Sighing, Emily stood up from the park bench and stretched. Her shoulder-length brown hair swished as her head tilted back and her new bruise twinged so she wouldn't forget it. "Great," she thought, "now I have to wear makeup. Thanks a lot, soccer jerk." Emily usually wore only minimal makeup, but now she'd have to cover up half her forehead. She sighed again and started toward 77th street, where she was staying at Hotel Belleclaire.

As she walked through the hotel's fashionable lobby she saw the attractive clerk behind the desk again. "Oh, that just figures," she fumed. "Why does he have to be here right after my face gets maimed?" She hid her face and had furious thoughts about invisibility as she made her way to the elevators.

"Miss? Miss! Excuse me, miss, can I see you for a moment?" The voice was deep but insistent, and it belonged to the handsome desk clerk. She took a peek and her heart sank - he was looking right at her.

He smiled, but she saw his eyes flick up to her forehead. "I'm sorry to bother you, miss, but the hotel manager has received a fax for you. Would you like to see it?" His friendly tone was engaging, and for a moment Emily forgot about her new injury and moved to the desk to read the fax. It was from her office. They didn't seem to understand the term 'vacation' and hadn't taken the hint when she turned off her cell phone and refused to even look at her email. Somehow her boss had forgotten where Emily had saved the department's budget spreadsheet and since her assistant was brand-new, no one else knew how to access it. Emily had emailed a copy before she left, but her boss never seemed to remember these things.

"I've got to send an email," she said. "Where's the business center?"

"I'm sorry, miss, but the computers in the business center got a virus last night. They'll be down until our technician comes in to fix them tomorrow."

"All right, is there another computer I can use instead? I only need a few minutes."

"Unfortunately, those are the only ones available for our guests. Perhaps the Internet cafe on 85th Street would work?"

"Look, I only need to send one little email. Don't you have a computer here that can do that?" She smiled a little flirtatiously as a last-ditch effort, hoping she wouldn't end up walking eight blocks just to keep her boss happy.

The man's resolve waned. "Well, yes, the manager has one, but he's not here today and we're really not supposed to let guests-"

She cut in. "Be disappointed in the hotel...right? All I need is to send one email to my boss before I can write YOUR boss a letter about the great job you're doing here. You're probably already up for a promotion, and a letter from a satisfied guest could make all the difference, right?" She smiled again and brushed back her hair, already knowing she'd won. She had no intention of writing a congratulatory letter, but if she had to walk those eight blocks she'd make sure to write a nasty one.

The clerk looked at her again and cast his eyes down. Then his smile brightened and he said, "Actually, the manager did leave the office key and we have standing instructions to keep guests happy. I'll be glad to help you if you'll just follow me back." He turned and moved toward a hallway behind the counter.

Emily's own smile turned a shade smug as she walked around the counter to the hallway. As the clerk made his way to the solid door at the end her eyes fell on his ass. It filled out the dress pants of his hotel uniform nicely, a pert rounded curve that looked like it would be fun in the dark. She enjoyed the view until he unlocked the door and walked through it, but had a second chance as he bent over a laptop computer on a desk against the back wall.

"Here you go then. It's logged in, so you should be able to get to your email from here."

"Thanks, that's perfect," she smiled. She sat down at the computer and started clicking. The computer was ridiculously slow and she spent a lot of time waiting for it to respond.

"So, how long have you worked at the hotel?" she asked absently, waiting yet again for the page to load. Good thing she didn't have any plans for the night.

"Just a few months. It gets a little old sometimes, but I get to use the fitness center for free, so at least there are perks. I work out a lot."

"Uh-huh," she murmered. The page had finally loaded and she was tapping out instructions for acccessing the spreadsheet. Maybe if the hotel charged for using the gym they could replace this ancient computer. As she clicked the Send button she was startled by a hand on her breast. It took her a moment to react.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted. She stood up and spun around to face the desk clerk.

He grinned. "What do you think I'm doing? I like your boobs. Smaller than you'd think for a girl your size, but still good." His eyes seemed to be suppressing a laugh.

Her anger rose. "You filthy bastard! Is that why you let me use the computer? So you could cop a feel?" She glared at him, disgust raging in her eyes.

"No, of course not," he said, letting his laugh free. "That was just a sample. We're going to get way more personal than that."

She almost retorted with her fury on full throttle, but saw his eyes take on a much darker gleam. He was leaning against the doorjamb with that mealy grin, almost like he found the idea of a sexual harrassment suit funny. Fuming, she stomped past him to the hallway. She drew a deep breath to fuel her next words telling this fool to see how long his free gym privileges lasted, but a strong hand grasped her wrist, stopping her short. "Get your hands off me, you pervert!" she said, eyes blazing.

He just laughed infuriatingly and yanked her back into the manager's office, closing the door behind her. "Pervert, huh?" he said. "Come on over here so I can earn that." He pulled her to him and mashed his lips to hers in a crude imitation of a kiss. His left hand held her head close. She struggled to move her head away but his hand was like an iron glove. She brought her knee up to his balls but got his thigh instead.

He pulled away and laughed at her. She took advantage of his lapse by slapping his face hard with her free hand. She flailed at his chest and neck, angry and reviled. After a minute he caught her hand. "Bitch," he growled. "You can't hurt me, but you're getting on my nerves."

Emily felt her anger slowly being replaced by fear as the desk clerk transferred both her hands into one of his. She struggled but he held them easily. He lifted them above her head so she stood on tiptoe and walked forward, forcing her to move or lose her balance. By the time they reached the wall her back was arched and her arms hurt. "You're hurting me!"

Nonplussed, he pressed her further into the wall with his body. She felt his heat through her clothes and tried to move away, pushing off from the wall. He was immovable, and it looked like the movement was just turning him on. "You can't do this!" she said. "Help! Help! Rape!" She screamed as loud as she could.

Amazingly, he just laughed at her again. "You can scream forever if you want," he said. "The only thing back here is empty offices and no one can hear anything from the desk. I'd save my breath, if I were you." His free hand cupped her breast and she stopped yelling from the surprise of it.

She glared. "If you don't let me out immediately, I will cut off your balls. I will see you in prison for this. You'll get raped every night by repulsive animals just like you." She jerked her arms again but he held them firmly.

He looked at her for a moment and she felt a surge of hope. Then he smiled wickedly and said "Well, then, you'd better be worth it."

The desk clerk reached for an unlit lamp and unplugged it from the wall. He wrapped the cord around Emily's wrists several times and finished it with a bulging knot. Her arms felt relieved from their earlier strain and she was glad for the change, even if they were still captive. She ducked under his arm and broke for the door, getting halfway there before the lamp crashed behind her and tilted her backward. She glanced back as the clerk lunged for her, grabbing her and slamming her against the wall again. "No, no, no," he chided. "That's not helping you. You're going to have to take your medicine one way or the other."

She stared at him defiantly even though her back hurt and her wrists felt as though they were being cut by the lamp cord. He ignored her look and lifted her shirt. When she tried to turn away he just yanked her back in front of him and continued lifting the shirt over her head. He didn't seem bothered that her bound hands prevented him from removing it completely. She tried to muster up some dignity by looking him straight in the eye.

"I'll kill you, you asshole," she said through gritted teeth. "You can't do this to me. I'll pay people in prison to rape you twice a day just because."

He ignored her and slid his hand under the waistband of her pants, flirting with the line of her panties. His touch was like an electric shock and she jumped. She shivered at having him so close to her. He noticed and just smiled with more evil than before, unbuttoning her jeans and drawing the zipper down. He moved his body into hers, sliding his hands onto her ass inside her pants. He leaned forward as he pushed the jeans to her ankles, running his hands down the backs of her legs at the same time. He paused when his head was level her crotch and she tensed, but he kept going. She let out a small gasp of relief.

"Foot up," he said, tapping her left. When she didn't move he grasped her ankle and forced it upward, lifting until her knee bent of its own accord. With her leg already chambered she threw a kick at his head and caught him in the face. He stood immediately and slapped her hard. "Bitch!" he roared. "Do that again and I'll kill you!" His hands clenched furiously. Emily tasted blood on her lip and sniffled. Her cheek felt on fire.

"Kick off the other leg," he demanded. She complied without meeting his eyes.

"Now turn around for me," he said, sounding less enraged than before. She did so, mortified in only her underwear. When she came full-circle she saw his eyes roving hungrily between her bra and panties.

"Strip," he commanded. She shook her head no. Without warning he reached out and ripped her bra right off her body. She shrieked and tried to cover up her bare breasts with her bound arms. He put his fingers under the leg of her panties and pulled teasingly, forcing her hips to move with him. She resisted, and he growled and tore them off entirely, leaving angry red lines on her skin. Emily quickly spun to face the wall, preventing him from seeing her nakedness and burning cheeks. The clerk pressed his body against her backside and ran his hands across her belly. She trembled as he nuzzled his chin into her neck and growled, "You're not going to walk straight for a year."

She whimpered but his hands kept roving on her skin, pushing her closer to him. They finally found her breasts and began pulling and tugging on them, taking one in each hand and squeezing hard. She moaned in pain and rubbed her nipples, feeling them harden beneath his touch. A hand traced its way down to the tuft of fur where her legs met and she crossed them as her stomach churned. His voice turned gutteral as he said, "That's not gonna work, bitch."

His arms wrapped around her, lifting her into the air and dropping her on the desk, knocking her breath out. She could feel the old laptop beneath her back and from the pain knew it had bruised her. The desk clerk disappeared from her view as he ripped the laptop's cord from the wall. She felt him tie it securely around her ankle, then nothing until he moved around the desk and tied the cord to her other ankle, forcing her legs apart and exposing her triangle of fur. She tried to push them back together but the cable held firm. She whimpered at her helplessness and saw the desk clerk tearing off his own clothing. His shirt flew off to one corner of the room and his pants were kicked to another before Emily saw the obvious bulge in his jockey shorts.

He saw her looking and bared his teeth. "You little whore! This is what you want, isn't it?" he said, thrusting his hips theatrically. Emily moaned and closed her eyes, but they flew open again when the clerk's hot, wet mouth closed like a vise around her nipple. He held her breast with his teeth as his tongue flicked back and forth across the nipple, sending shivers down Emily's bruised back. She squirmed and tried to move away, but his arms came down on either side of her chest, caging her on the desk. She stopped, and he started stroking her other boob with one hand, making concentric circles toward her nipple. She inhaled sharply but stayed still.

His hand left her hardened nipple and meandered to her belly, making little circles on her skin. She felt herself flush as he came closer to her pubic hair. He tugged at it with his fingers, making her twitch involuntarily. He bit down on her nipple and yanked her curly hairs at the same time, causing her to squeal in surprise. She saw him smile. "You sick bastard," she muttered.

His fingers kept moving through her dark patch of curlies and she sucked her breath in trepidation. His hand left her skin and came back inside her thigh. He lightly scraped her with his nails, alternating legs and traveling upward, surprising her once in a while with a pinch. He caressed the place where her leg met her hip for a moment and moved onward, lightly rolling around her clit. He took hold of it and squeezed, and fire rocketed to her brain. Her hips rose of their own treacherous accord and she felt wetness in her nether region. He squeezed again and abruptly let go, flooding her with warmth again, and she quivered.

She felt his fingers rubbing her labia and she jolted. He brought his other hand to her dark furrow and forced her into the desk, his hand pushing on her clit. He probed her lips lightly, dipping a finger into her wetness and spreading it the length of her alcove. She felt his finger push at her entrance and again tried to close her legs, but the cord held. He slowly slid a finger into her and she jumped involuntarily, which just forced her clit further into his other hand. She moaned in frustration. His finger continued into her until his whole palm cupped her crotch, pushing against her. He stroked in and out, then all the way in before curling his finger, brushing the G-spot at the roof of her canal. She couldn't help it; her back arched and her hips struggled. She tried to knock him away but her tied hands were blocked by his arm holding her down.

He continued sliding inside her, occasionally curling his finger and sending jolts up her spine. His other thumb began twiddling her clit as he added two more fingers, pushing at her entrance until it accepted the intrusion. She was in agony, her body's natural responses outweighing her ability to instruct them. Abruptly both hands left her. She closed her eyes in relief. It was short-lived, though, because the next thing she knew his underwear was tossed across her face.

She felt something much bigger than a finger stroking her pussy lips, bottom to top, and knew it had to be his cock. It wagged her clit back and forth, and she found it both soft and hard at the same time. She whimpered, trying for self-control and failing. Soon a thumb was rubbing her clit in circles, and then diddling it quickly back and forth. She felt a wave rising inside and her hips bucked as the orgasm crashed down. Her legs trembled and she couldn't catch her breath. She felt an insistent throbbing that wouldn't ease.

Then he slid into her hard, his dick moving easily through her wetness and his balls slamming into her. She gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness and tried to move away. The man leaned forward, mingling their pubic hair, and grabbed her throat. She flailed her hands helplessly, trying futilely to push his hand away. She was choking and still felt his cock engorging her pussy, moving back and forward, crashing into her swollen clit, body banging body. She couldn't think and saw spots, but her body still swelled with pleasure. His thumb pressed harder into her throat and she thought she would pass out. He made a final raging thrust and exploded into her, releasing a sound of absolute pleasure as he let go of her neck.

Emily was on the precipice of orgasm herself and wanted so badly to float over the edge. She took a deep breath and held it, knowing she would be finished if he brushed a nipple or stroked her clit as he pulled out, but neither happened. The clerk slid his dick out of her pussy a few minutes later, apparently feeling rested enough.

A moment later the intense pressure on her legs eased as the clerk cut the cable forcing them apart. She looked at him hopefully, but he grabbed her hips and roughly flipped her to her stomach on the desk. "On your knees," he commanded. When she gathered her legs beneath her and sat up he shoved her face back down to the desk, leaving her ass waving in the air. She felt more vulnerable than ever before.

He splayed her knees further and without warning shoved his rigid cock into her pussy from behind. She sat up in surprise and he slipped out. Angrily he shoved her head back down to the desk. "Stay there, bitch!" he raged. He twisted his hand in her hair and jerked her head back, exposing her throat. Her head burned and her neck felt strained. Uncaring, he stabbed his penis back into her. He began undulating in small circles, stretching her walls in all directions, and pushed downward until the tip of him reached her vaginal roof. He dragged his cockhead backwards toward her entrance until hitting her textured G-spot, causing her to jolt and curse silently as her hair was pulled even harder. He alternated between probing her G-spot with his tip and plunging deep into her, his balls occasionally slapping into her clit. She was surprised to be enjoying this, but she couldn't deny the fiery swell building once again in the pit of her stomach. The clerk smacked her ass hard and she cried out, more in shocked than hurt. He yanked her hair again and pounded into her and she came, her pussy wrapping around his cock and squeezing harder than she thought possible. It was too much for his dick and he burst into her, groaning and squeezing her ass cheeks. Her legs shook from the aftershock and she collapsed on the desk, unable to move without setting off her now-sensitive vagina.