Poor Little Rich Slut (20 page)

After fucking my mouth until I gagged on his cum and I gulped it down, we lay on his bed and rested.

“You know, I’m working on another machine,” he told me. He’d rolled onto his side and ran a single finger along my sweaty side. It tickled.

“Really?
Another one like this one?”

“Nope.
On this model you’ll be flat on your back, stretched out, legs open, knees bent,
two
dildos again, but also suction cups for your tits.”

“Wow.” I turned his way, my interest piqued. Already my breasts ached.

“You don’t mind pain, do you?” he asked.

“Sometimes it’s all I want to feel.”

“Hum? Maybe I should make you a spanking machine?”

“Maybe.”
My eyes lit a little devilishly.

“How about I just spank you?” he asked.

“That would do, too. But I’ve got to feel that it’s justified, not just for fun.”

“Justified? As in you earned it?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s more justified than your coming down here and behaving like a tramp, huh? Dirty little whore that you are.”

I love dirty talk when I’m horny.

“Okay, I guess that means I deserve it.”

“Damn right.”

I didn’t have to prompt him more. He sat up, pulled me over his lap and began spanking me hard and fast with the palm of his hand. I don’t ever remember any plain old-fashioned spanking that was that long and that hard.

Maybe I’d get everything again, I wondered afterwards. As I drove away from the carnival, my ass still burned as it wiggled on the leather car seat.
Maybe.

It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was going home to a faraway part of the city, alone. No man would be snuggling in my bed, or drinking coffee over scrambled eggs and muffins in the morning. My sexual adventure still lacked some important things, like basic honesty and a deeper intimacy. I guess I wasn’t ready for anything more either way.

I lay down on the bench of Casey’s new toy—the demo model we were all told,
all
meaning myself and several others in the room that I couldn’t see. We used the latex hood again since it perfectly hid my identity.

I reflected back on the words of the dungeon master who challenged me to reveal myself on the night of his exotic ball. Some days, in fact, on many days, that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to give up my fancy, corporate life, give up everything for the pleasure, the risk, the danger, and I didn’t care who knew what a slut I was. It was a good thought, but I wasn’t that brave. My conscience always kicked in—or maybe it was the words of Robert Harrington, who’d warned that he wouldn’t let me take the company down with my risky behavior. Despite the fact that he no longer disciplined me, I had the feeling he’d still be there to set me straight at the first sign of any careless act that would compromise the magazine.

The latex mask was fine…I needed its protection.

It was another Friday evening and I was prepared to adore another mechanical lover, while forgetting everything in my life that troubled me. Casey buckled my arms to the horizontal struts above my head. He wrapped a thick strap about my torso, then he strapped my knees and feet into stirrups that looked somewhat like those on a medical examination table—in fact, the machine’s design started with a used exam table. My crotch was splayed, exposing both my ass and my steamy, dripping cunt. I breathed heavily, feeling the weight and tightness of the straps remind me of how well I was bound. My breasts were placed inside a pair of rubber-coated metal cups, which would tighten down; their mechanical action designed to erotically massage my breasts. The more restraint, the more my gnawing arousal expanded.

The mechanical part of the machine was similar to his original floor model. But if that one sent me to nirvana, this new one did the trick much faster, better and more completely. It wasn’t just my pussy and my bowels fully exercised; now my breasts felt a pulsing, erotic stimulation. I was powerless to control anything; my mind vacated while my voice, my screams rose unconsciously from the anguish and the pleasure. My psyche battled back and forth, not knowing what to feel or what to desire. I became lost in the
endorphic
high and remember little until I realized that Casey was ratcheting down the intensity to a point were I became conscious again.

While returning from that incredible high, I felt someone tugging on the latex hood. I instinctively struggled against the action, but could do nothing to prevent the mask from being removed from my head. Seconds later, as I became aware of who stripped me of that protection, Casey revved the machine up again. I was
cumming
more, but this time staring into Garrison Tate’s eyes. I tried to scream. I wanted the fucking thing off! I wanted out of the room! Off the planet! Anywhere but in that room with that damned bastard hovering above me, lust, judgment and disgust pouring from his eyes.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t say a blessed thing!

All I could do was close my eyes and try to prevent my body from feeling the intensity of the machine. I’d already been on it longer than I was ever on the other one. I could feel myself beginning to cry out. Apparently, Casey finally sensed my mounting distress and he slowly geared the machine down until it stopped.

He leaned over me, lightly tapping my face. “Ellie, it’s done, girl. I’m sorry you’re upset here. I told him that you didn’t want your face seen. He shouldn’t have done that.”

I didn’t want Casey to know any more than he had to about the other man in the room—it seemed as though the rest of his guests had left.

“I just couldn’t take any more,” I said. “I want to go home.”

“You don’t have to leave.” He looked worried as he began undoing the straps that bound me to the bench.

“Yes, I do. It’s just too much.”

He lifted me from the machine and helped to the bed, giving me a robe to cover my body. I lay silently while the two men talked—I didn’t dare look their way. Then Garrison left and I was alone with Casey again.

“I don’t think I like the other men here,” I told Casey later. “They distract me. Make me feel all wrong.”

“Okay. No problem. I’ll find some other demo girl. I will.” I could see that he was scared.

Demo girl?
What? Was he planning an infomercial? It all seemed pretty absurd for a time, but I eventually revived. He was very kind and more attentive to me than he’d been before. I suppose he realized what he had to lose.

But why Garrison?
Why was he there?

“Why did he take off the mask?”

“I don’t know. I never saw the guy until today. He was John’s friend, John
Westerhouse
. The guy I told you about.”

“So, what happened to John?”

“He stepped out for a smoke, along with the other two guys.”

Which gave Garrison Tate the perfect opportunity to expose me.

I managed to calm down enough to stay another hour. But we didn’t have sex; I think Casey was more worried that I was going to stop coming. We talked and he gave my shoulders a decent massage. He even walked me to my car when I decided to leave. Although I couldn’t wait to get home and ground myself in my own environment, I also knew I would return.

I hadn’t gone a block when I realized that there was a car tailing me—a car I knew well. I pulled over and hopped out.
Oh, I had a lot to say!

“What the fuck are you doing tailing me here?” I cried as I charged toward Garrison Tate. We practically slammed together from the force of our collective anger and stood just inches apart.

Yes, he was angry too, but that cold, distant anger.
A judgmental anger.

“Protecting you, slut girl,” he spat back at me coolly.

“Protecting me?
You lousy asshole.
I don’t need your protection.”

“And I beg to differ with you.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. High and Mighty. You pushed me into this sexual gutter, now you want to watch me grovel there, just so you can have the satisfaction of pulling me out.”

He laughed. I hated that. “Well, that is a fine picture, isn’t it?”

“Stay away from me.” I turned away and moved toward my car.

“You keep this up, Ellie, you’re gonna get fired.”

I turned back, seething. “What I do in my private life, as long as it remains discreet, has no impact on my job.”

“You’re treading in dangerous waters.”

“Maybe I like it dangerous.”

“It’s time to stop, Ellie.”

“You stay away from me, Garrison. I’ll do anything I want and I don’t really care what you think about it.”

***

I returned to see Casey on the next Friday as I usually did; I needed another fix. He greeted me at the door but wouldn’t let me in.

“Not tonight. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean not tonight? I thought we had a date.”

“We did. But it got canceled.”

“Canceled?”

“Yeah, canceled, like it’s not going to work out.”
He couldn’t look me in the eye.

“You could have called.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m bad about that.” He was strange; much the same as Garrison was strange weeks ago.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. That guy…”

“What guy?” Then it dawned on me.
“The guy that pulled the hood off?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“What about him?”

“He came here earlier today and handed me a check. I’ve never seen that much money in my life. He said it was compensation for my time. I said, sure, I’d stay clear of you.
Not that it wouldn’t be fun, but…
I could really use the money.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “He paid you off?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

My mouth must have dropped to my knees. “I can’t believe it.” I circled around in a daze.
Garrison paid Casey off. What the fuck…

Casey wasn’t going to budge on this
one, that
was clear.

When I finally caught my breath, when I could finally think of something to say, it was pretty lame, a meager, “Well, I guess that’s it.”

“Yep, I guess so.”

I walked away, listening to the door close with a finality that tore at my heart. I could see from the glow in the windows that Casey had his romantic candles lit. Maybe he already had another girl, another victim for his machines. A big lump caught in my throat as I stopped and stared at the white building where he lived, next to his wildly majestic carousel. Dry leaves and bits of dirty paper danced and jumped around my feet, multiplying the feeling of desolation and despair. The yearning in my heart was rich and full of passion. Oh, for another ride on that merry-go-round, or another spin on his wonderful sex machines.
All that was denied me now because I was Eleanor Rule.

That was it, wasn’t it?
The bottom of all things.

It all made sense now.
Garrison’s swift end to his sexual mentoring.

It was so clear now; why hadn’t I seen it before? How stupid could I be? The man was on Daddy’s payroll; what did I expect but that his loyalty would eclipse his own lust? His first, most important allegiance was to my father. He’d been given a mission to watch over and protect me, which was why he paid off Casey.

I gazed around. Was Garrison out there now, watching me? Waiting to see where my reckless, wayward ways would take me?

I didn’t want to go home. Home was lonely, a pretty place I hated. I liked Casey’s humble cement block home. I was even beginning to like Casey. I had my feet in two worlds; belonging in one, but yearning for the other, simpler one.

The nearest bar was only a few blocks away; I’d been there once with Casey. I walked in feeling confident and downed two double bourbons before I even looked around the place. I hate bourbon. It was like punishing
myself
, maybe challenging the urbane heiress to gulp it down. I did happily. The woozy feeling came on
fast,
my head was heavy and light at the same time. I bummed a cigarette from the guy next to me and smoked it without coughing. My split personality was on the rise; so too was the crushing desire that didn’t get its fix. No carousal, no machines, no penance, no sex, nothing.

I ordered another double of the same rotgut stuff, while the bartender peered into my eyes, trying to decide whether I was too drunk to serve.

“I’m just fine. I don’t plan on driving.”

“Better not, lady,” he said as he poured the drink.

This one went down smoother than the first two.

By then it was time to cast my net. I looked around at the available options, wondering which man had the fattest dick. They all looked scrawny, except for one hulking brute of a black man sitting in the corner, slowly nursing a beer. His head was shaved, his skin was a coppery brown and he was dressed
better
than the other men in the bar. There was nothing fancy about his grey slacks and khaki sport coat, but he looked far better than his competition.

I pulled from the barstool and swayed my hips as I made my way to his table.

I stared down at him and said, “You want a blowjob?”

He looked up at me, big question marks in his eyes.

“What the hell you
sayin
’, girl?”

“You didn’t hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. But what’s a nice looking woman like you doing here, in this place, propositioning me?
You a hooker?”

“No, I’m not a hooker!” I exclaimed. But I thought it over and smiled at him.
“Although, I’d kinda like to be one now.
What I really, really need is sex and I don’t care how I get it.”

“I guess not.”

I’m not sure I’d ever been that close to a black man, certainly not in a bar, not in a sexual situation. I could see in his eyes both hesitation and lust. I hoped my eyes, my body, dressed in its tight slut clothes, communicated my arousal. I wanted to suck his cock, his black man’s cock.

He finally snickered. He understood what I wanted and rose to his feet. “Let’s go to my car,” he said.

I thought the car would be some nasty old beater, but once we moved out to the street, there sat a black and white squad car.

“This yours?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a cop?”

“Yeah.”

I trembled while he laughed. I had no idea where to go from there.

“I see. So I suppose you’re on duty?” My words sounded strange, slurred and distant, as if I wasn’t even speaking.

“No, just went off.”

“But no uniform, huh?”

“Not that kinda cop. Fact is
,
this isn’t my normal vehicle.”

“But, you know, I’m
outta
line… I’ll just go back in the bar.” I turned away.

“So, I don’t get my blowjob?” he asked.