87 comments/ 108358 views/ 14 favorites Don't Bother Me By: Harddaysknight Sue had dinner cooking when I came in the front door. It smelled like chicken, I decided as I went upstairs to change my clothes. Dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, I went down to the kitchen. Sue was sitting at the table and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Being a rather astute observer of human nature, it occurred to me that something was bothering her. I grabbed a beer and sat down across from Sue, knowing that she would soon tell me what her problem was. If she didn't want me to know, she would have never allowed me to see her cry. "Bill, I've done a horrible thing. I don't even know how to tell you, so I'm just going to tell you everything. This is very difficult for me, so please don't interrupt me with questions, okay, Sweetheart?" she insisted more than requested. I popped the can open and nodded to her. Hell, I've never been the one to have trouble keeping my mouth shut. Again, I kept my mouth shut rather than point that fact out to Sue. "I have been unfaithful, Bill. I never meant to hurt you and I don't even know how or why it started," she sobbed. "I've been with another man several times in the past few weeks. The first time was after our company party at Jack's house last month. You didn't want to go and I had too much to drink. I was pissed at you for not going with me and all those things added up to a huge mistake on my part." I took a pull on my beer and checked my watch. I had agreed to meet a friend at the driving range after dinner and I worried that this confession was going to be very time consuming. I nodded my understanding, hoping that Sue would get to her point. "I know how shocked you must be and how upset you will be with me," continued Sue. "I just want you to know it meant nothing to me, Bill! I love you and the kids and I regret this terrible lapse in my marital vows." I had been told to not interrupt so I sat and waited. How would I know if, and when, she was done talking, if I couldn't ask? Of course, I wondered that to myself. How long was I required to remain silent? "Aren't you going to say something, Bill?" demanded Sue. "I just gave you some terrible information and you don't say a word! No wonder we have problems!" Not surprisingly, this was going to be my fault, I realized. I'm such a miserable schmuck I could drive Mother Theresa to sin. What options did she have but to seek solace in another man's arms? I tried to frame a response that would demonstrate the proper amount of concern and hurt without being too accusatory. "Why...." "I knew you'd ask that, Bill!" groaned Sue. "Don't you think I've asked myself that same question a thousand times? Sure, the sex was hot and the orgasms were incredible, but why would I risk everything for a really, big, hard cock? That's the question, isn't it?" "I never..," was all I managed before Sue took off again. "I know you've been faithful, Bill. You aren't the type to go out and get laid. You like to write software for computers and play a little golf. Your sex drive is really low and you're content to just have me around to hold and love," blubbered Sue. This was interesting. I hadn't realized the contempt in which she held me. But then, she did know me pretty well. I tried to think of something that would change the subject, but I realized that would be unlikely. Once Sue started on something, she couldn't be swayed until she had talked it to death. Then I noticed a hole in the wall over the counter. I wondered about that. "Sue, who....," was all I could ask about the hole before she cut me off again. "Does it really matter, Bill? He's too big for you to beat up, so forget that!" Sue warned. "His arms are almost twice as big as yours and he doesn't have a beer belly to get in the way. He'd kick your ass, Bill, so don't even think about going there!" The hole looked like it could have been caused by a thrown object, or possibly the handle of some utensil. Luckily, it was in the drywall, above the ceramic tile that had taken me so long to put down. I had some spare pieces of drywall someplace. The question was where? "Where...," I began. "In his car, in the park, once in the little league field after a game!" wailed Sue. "Why the hell does it matter where we did it? Are you afraid that he fucked the hell out of me in our marital bed? Is that what's bothering your male ego? As if it matters where he fucked me with that incredible cock! Okay, we did it once or twice in our bed, goddamn your perverted sense of pride!" Now that was interesting. It looked like a small piece of ceramic or something was wedged into the wall just below the hole. I began to suspect that someone had thrown a mug or coffee cup at the wall. "Has anyone been here today?" I asked. "That is so like you, Bill," snarled Sue. "I mess up once and you think I'm fucking every man in the town. Why is it that the wife is always considered a slut if she finds a man that understands her needs and desires? A man would screw snake if he could get his head under the rock, but if a wife has one lover, she's a whore and a worthless slut!" It could have been one of the kids, but they don't use mugs or cups. They aren't allowed to drink coffee. Then I wondered if I checked the garbage, would I find the broken remains of whatever made the hole? It had to be something pretty heavy. Where were the kids? "The kids?" "You're going to hold the children over my head? You can't wait to tell them that their mother is a cock loving tramp, can you?" Sue demanded. "You think you can get them away from me? This state always allows the mother custody, if that's what's going through your vindictive pea-brain! I sent them to mother's to spend the night. I knew you'd be unreasonable and go into a jealous rage." That was when someone knocked on the kitchen door. I looked up and saw our next-door neighbor, June. She was a sweet looking blonde, about five years younger than Sue and more than a few pounds lighter. Even so, her tits were a bit bigger than Sue's and Sue often complained about that fact. She frequently made the observation that they had been purchased someplace. I stood up and opened the door for June. She was always a pleasure to see and today was no exception. She wore a tank top and a pair of cut-off shorts. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and it made her look like she was a teen. "Bill, did this whore wife of yours tell you that I caught her with Ben today?" she demanded. "I came home early and heard some funny noises coming from my bedroom. I crept up the stairs and caught your loving slut sucking Ben's cock. Then she had him lie down and she impaled her sloppy pussy on my husband's damn needle-dick." June often carried a mug of coffee with her when she came across the back yard to visit in our kitchen! I felt that I was getting closer to determining what made that damn hole. "Ben needs understanding, not some miserable bitch that complains all the time," responded Sue. "He said you're a lousy lay and you give lousy head." I had moved in close to study the shape of the hole and to see if I could determine from what direction the missile was hurled. That was when June caught my attention. "Bullshit! Bill, I think Sue is just jealous. Take a look at these tits and tell me if they aren't bigger and better than Sue's." challenged June as she pulled her tank top over her head. I grabbed June and pulled her to me as I dropped my face to her magnificent tits. I nibbled, sucked, chewed, and licked one nipple and then the other. My hands were squeezing and pulling on her globes like it was therapy ordered by the doctor. "I guess that's a good answer," laughed June. "Look at how Bill worships my tits, Sue. He's like a starving babe at his mother's breast." "He's a man and you just offered him your tits," Sue pointed out. "That doesn't prove anything. I would have been surprised if he didn't attack you. Shit, he'd be all over your grandmother if she offered him a tit to suck." "Well, you might be right about that. Ben always goes crazy when I let him near them, too. Ouch, Bill's getting carried away with my girls, I'll be lucky if he doesn't suck them right off me," worried June. "He does love tits, June. I told you that," Sue reminded our guest. "Don't think yours are so special." "Bill, if you let go of my tits, I'll show you wife how good I suck cock. She thinks she's hot shit. I know that Ben lied to her just to get into her pants. He always said I'm the best," declared June. I cursed my zipper for working so slowly as I pulled my cock out and offered it to June. She fell to her knees in front of me. "Now that's what I call a real cock, Bill!" cooed June. "It's way bigger than Mister Weenie that I'm supposed to work with at home." I had enough talk from the gabby bitch. I pushed my cock down her throat before she could babble any more. I grabbed her hair and began working her back and forth on my monster. I wanted to help her demonstrate her knob polishing abilities, so I went in to the hilt and held it there for a few seconds. When June's hue changed, I'd back off and allow her some oxygen. "Bill, how can you let that whore touch your cock?" asked Sue. "This is placing a real strain on our marriage. I think she's choking!" I had gotten a little carried away because I was getting close. I was holding my cock buried in June's sweet, warm throat. I let her back off and then I fired a warning shot across her cheek. Then I stuffed it back in her mouth and held her head still. Gradually, my cock softened and I pulled it from her mouth and allowed her to get to her feet. I tucked my fallen soldier back in my pants, took a deep breath, and then went back to inspecting the damaged wall. I pulled the shard of ceramic from the drywall and turned it over. It was bigger than I had realized. Like an iceberg, most of it had been under the surface. I noticed some color on the back side. "Wow! I guess I showed you who can please a man!" coughed June as she worked to control her breathing. "Did you see how happy I made him, Sue? Maybe you'll stay away from Ben, now, you slut." "Oh, I'll stay away from him, June. The question really is; will he stay away from me?" goaded Sue. "Once a man has piece of this ass, he won't want a skinny little piece like you. He'll be coming around first chance he gets!" "You're so full of shit!" snapped June. "This is prime, grade-A pussy, and not some sloppy, skanky cunt. Men will walk over yours to get to mine!" "That sure wasn't the impression Ben gave me when he was pounding my little kitty this afternoon. He told me it was the sweetest, tightest place he's been in since he nailed your ass in high school," Sue shot back. "Like Hell!" erupted June. "Bill, do you think you can get that love muscle up for a shot at this?" asked June as she dropped her shorts and panties all in one motion. I was hard by the time I had my jeans off. I bent June over the kitchen table and entered her before she could rethink her offer. I went to the hilt the first time, and every time after that. "Bill!" Sue bitched. "You can't be enjoying that little whore? It's a mercy fuck, isn't it? June was making strange sounds every time I hit bottom. Her ass was jiggling like a mold of jello. Her tits were sliding back and forth over the silverware Sue had used to set the table. "I didn't know you had a tattoo!" exclaimed Sue as she noticed the small marking on June's left ass cheek. "It's a butterfly! Every time Bill slams into you, your ass wiggles so much it looks like it's flying!" "R...really?" managed June. "B...Ben never told me that! Does it look s...silly? Should I get it removed?" "Absolutely not!" Sue responded sincerely. "That is so cool! Where did you get it, June?" I was reaching my zenith again and I began to pound June like a jackhammer. She attempted to answer Sue a couple times, but soon gave up. I slammed into her one last time and held still as I released my minions. June quivered and shook as I finished my masterpiece. Then my little man flopped out. "Shit! Bill can fuck!" June allowed as she slowly turned around to face Sue and me. "Why you waste your time with Ben is beyond me. If you go near him again, I'll be back to sample more of this big cock of Bill's. So you like my tattoo? I had it done last year at "Screwed, Lewd, and Tattooed" down at the mall." "Okay, it's a deal," conceded Sue. "I'll leave Ben alone. Would you go with me to get a tattoo like yours, June? I want Bill to make my butterfly take flight." "Sure, let's do it Saturday," agreed June as she dressed. "Your ass is big enough for a hummingbird, or maybe even an eagle. I bet that would look great!" The two women walked outside as they chatted. The oven timer sounded for our dinner and I turned the oven off. Then I went to the cupboard and looked for my favorite mug. It was gone. Then it came to me. When I came home from bowling the previous night, I decided to make a cup of coffee. I had drunk a few more beers than I needed, so I wanted to sober up a little before going to bed. While I was waiting for the coffee to percolate, I saw the biggest damn fly on the wall. For some reason, I tried to swat it with my mug and hit the wall. I never did see if I got the fly. I had picked up the pieces and tossed them in the trash. Now I had to fix the wall. Sue came back into the kitchen, alone. She checked the dinner and then turned to me. "How could you do that to me, Bill? You helped that bitch prove every point she made with that damn cock of yours," she pouted. "I never realized how good you are with that, especially on the kitchen table. Why haven't you ever shown me that technique?" I spun Sue around and flipped her dress over her ass and pulled her panties down. I had her stretched across the table and coming in a flash. Watching me with June had apparently made her quite randy. I spanked her ass a few times to touch her off again and then I managed one more curtain call for the troupe. After I had Little Bill tucked away, I went to the garage looking for the drywall. "Dinner is almost ready, Bill," called Sue as I reached the back of the garage. She always waited until I was as far away as possible to speak to me! Then she'd tell me I was going deaf. I always heard what she said if it was important. Suddenly, I realized I'd be late for my appointment with my buddy at the driving range. I tried to recall why Sue had been so upset when I got home. Women always make big deals out of everything. I carried the piece of drywall back into the house with me, and ate my dinner. Don't Bother Me! Frank Fletcher was pissed. His boss ordered him to drive from St. Louis to Cheyenne, Wyoming on one hour's notice, with no time to research flights. With no options, he set out with a change of clothes, a bag of toiletries and his laptop in the middle of the day with a Google directions to his destination. He swore at his asshole boss as he drove through Kansas City rush hour traffic, up the Missouri River and into a Nebraska night. When he was worn out from the road, he found a cheap hotel by I-80 and fell into a deep sleep 5 minutes after opening the door to his room. The next day he awakened at dawn, fuming and unable to get back to sleep. He'd slept in his underclothes, which were rank with sweat. Dark stubble covered his face, and the fringe of hair surrounding his head was greasy and splayed in all directions. Watching Good Morning, America, he got his morning erection watching Diane Sawyer and figured some stress relief was in order before he faced the rest of his trip from hell. The hotel had free wireless Internet, so he hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on his door and started downloading from his favorite porn sites. Frank Fletcher was a pudgy man in his mid-fifties, with almost no hair on his head and grisly grey hair covering his body. His thick fingers deftly worked his manhood as he downloaded video after video of blow jobs. The electricity building in his crotch was building toward discharge when the catastrophe happened. Suddenly, the door flung open and the maid waltzed in, lost in her iPod. She was in her late 40s, chubby with huge hips and her long, greasy greying hair was pulled into a bun. She left the door open as she started vacuuming, pulling her cart into the room behind her, oblivious to the man on the bed. Frank's erection wilted at once. He sat for a few seconds with his dick in his hand, looking with amazement at the woman who breezed by his "Do No Disturb" sign at 7:00AM. A low, out of tune humming accompanied her as she swept the rug, her eyes closed. Pulling up his boxers, he jumped in front of her and yelled: "What the fuck are you doing?" She looked up at him in shock, as if he'd beamed down from the Enterprise in front of her. "Huh?" "What the holy fuck are you doing? Didn't you notice the 'Do Not Disturb' sign?" Slowly, she looked back over her shoulder and the back at him. Her face was broad with a smashed nose, cloudy blue eyes, round cheeks and a double chin that wobbled in fear. "I thought you were gone and forgot to take it off." "What?" "I'm. . .I'm. . .I'm sorry, sir. I'll. . .I'll go." "No, no, no. That will not do. I'm going to call the front desk and tell them what an idiot they have working for them here in. . .in. . .in. . ." "K-K-Kearney, Nebraska." "Kearney, Nebraska? Where the fuck is that?" He strode over to the phone and picked it up. "The manager is going to hear what a stupid bitch you are." Suddenly, she burst into tears and began moaning. "Oh, please, sir, please. Don't call the desk. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I'll go away and make sure you're gone before I come back. Please don't turn me in: the manager is looking for a reason to fire me." Looking her over, he scrunched his face. "No, I'm gonna call She ran over and grasped his sweaty shoulders, pulling his t-shirt down painfully. "No, no, no. I've got no place else to work and no family. I'll do anything if you won't call. There's no jobs out here in Kearney." Pulling away from her was difficult; she kept him from crossing to the phone and picking it up. A thought crossed his mind and he knocked her back. He gripped her jaw hard and looked at her eyes. "You might not like what I choose." "No, please, I'll do anything. I'd even have sex with you." Laughing, he let her go. "Do you really think I could get it up for you, you old hag? Tell me another one." Getting down on her knees and intertwined her fingers, pleading: "I'll let you do anything you want, just please don't call." His eyebrows arched and a wicked leer crossed his face. "Anything?" "Anything," she whispered on her knees, her puppy dog eyes brimming with tears. "All right. Go shut the door." "Whut?" He struck her on the face, leaving a red palmprint. "Go shut the fucking door, stupid bitch. D' ya think I want an audience?" "Oh. Yeah, shut the door." Unsteadily, she got up and awkwardly pushed her way past her cart to close the door. A whimper crept from her lips as she came back to stand before him sheepishly. He looked her over, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed down. "Strip." "Strip? Oh. Okay, okay." Her fingers fumbled taking off the vest the hotel provided and the white sweatshirt underneath. Her skin was pale white and splotched with several asymmetrical moles. Her breasts were tightly confined in her huge bra, showing two inch wide nipples through the fabric. "Stop. Kneel. Put your hands behind your back." She obeyed him and taking a clean t-shirt he tied her hands behind her. The aroma of dank sweat poured from her body. "Stand up, I can't stand seeing you look up at me like that." With difficulty, she obeyed him, almost falling over, her breasts wobbling alarmingly as she struggled upright. He went to his bag and took out his pocketknife, which would have been forbidden if he caught a flight, and flicked it open. Her lower lip wobbled as he traced the skin of her chest with the point. Coming under her bra strap, he sliced it through with a quick motion, her right breast falling six inches. An evil grin on his face broadened as he resumed tracing the knife point on her skin, taking care not to mark her skin, before coming under the other bra strap, which he severed as quickly as the other. A bulge began to appear in his boxer front. Her eyes darted from it to his face to his hand and back again. Rather than figuring out the clasp, he sawed through the main support and the remains of the bra dropped; her breasts fell out and her nipples hovered at her waistline. Flicking the blade shut, he set it down and pulled a chair up to look at her massive churns at eye level as they hung before him. Running his finger gently around her right nipple, he smiled. "What have we here? Some people would call these breasts, but they're too ridiculous for that exalted term. Too big to call tits, tits is too delicate term for these jugs. Udders. Floppy udders Big, fat, floppy udders in Nebraska, just like all the damn cows. Big, fat, ridiculous floppy udders." He cupped them and juggled them hard up and down. "These floppy udders are an embarrassment, aren't they?" Taking his hands, he slapped the outsides several times, getting harder each time before ending with a loud smack that left them jiggling. Taking her left breast in his hands, he held it up and inspected is closely. "Look at these stretch marks on the outside. Usually see these on an old woman's legs. When was the last time a man touched your tits, bitch?" "I don't know. Maybe twenty, thirty years ago." The air conditioner switched on, and her nipples erected in the cold air. "Ooo, I think she likes me. Hello, big, fat, ridiculous, fucking, floppy udder. I think you like me, and you want me to show you a good time." He looked around at her behind. "I don't think I'm going to make you bare that huge ass of yours. There's probably enough cottage cheese and stinking ass pellets to make me puke at the sight. No, no, we'll have to punish you another way. I think I've got the answer right here." He smacked the breast several times with his open hands, leaving red prints on the egg white skin. Lifting the orb up, he brought the hardening bud close to her mouth. "You ever suck your own nipples, bitch?" She shook her head silently. "Every think about it?" Still more shaking. "Well, let me show you how good that can feel. . I'm going to make you suck your own tit, you stupid bitch." He took her brown bud into his mouth, slavering over it and sucking tenderly until she gasped. "You like that, don't you bitch?" All she could do is look at the ceiling and breath heavily. He brought the nipple to her lips. "Suck it bitch, suck your own nipple. You've got enough slack in this fat old titty, suck it." Tentatively, she sought the brown nub with her tongue and gently kissed it. "Come on, suck the dirty old nipple into your mouth and suck it hard." She complied, immediately bewildered at the sensations that flooded her. "I want you to keep that fat old udder in your mouth, or you'll be punished." He let go and it immediately slid down to bounce before stilling. "What did I tell you, bitch?" he sneered, slapping her hard on the cheek. "I couldn't suck hard enough," she moaned softly. "It's too heavy." He lifted the mammary again, and put the nipple to her mouth. "Then you'll have to bite the bud to hold it up." He put it in her mouth. "Now bite on your own nipple; hold it up there." A wince accompanied the effort and the tit slid down again. Another resounding blow hit her face. "Bite harder. Keep that big bad booby in your mouth." He pulled her breast up roughly and forced the tit into her mouth; she moaned as she bit down hard but was able to do as he demanded. Going over to his computer bag, he took out a six inch plastic ruler, he used to use for correcting drawings in the days before computers. "I knew there was a reason I was keeping this in my bag," he said. Coming back and sitting before her, he looked up to confirm she was still holding her tit by her mouth. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration; he lifted her other breast and faced the brown nipple. Tenderly, he began licking and sucking the hard target in front of him until she began to moan in appreciation. Then, he clamped down on her hard bud with his teeth, holding the breast up, and started spanking it with the ruler. Squealed leaked from her mouth as he chewed her nipple and turned the pale white skin of her breast light red until he got tired of hitting her. Releasing her nipple, he let her breast fall hard, hitting it a few more times. Pulling the red orb upward, he pushed the bud toward her face. "Time to switch. Let that one go and take this one." She panted as she released her bud, wincing as the blood returned to the hard appendage. Shaking her head, she wined: "No, no. you're too rough." "Do you want me to call the desk?" "It hurrrts," she warbled. "I'm going to call the office." "No, no, no. I"ll do it." Letting her right tit go, she clamped down on her left. Noticing the white expanse before him, he smacked it as she sucked hard to alleviate the new pain. Then he repeated the procedure on the right breast, tenderly licking and sucking the nipple before abusing it the same way. Toward the end, he lifted it up to attack the white underside, when she began to start shaking. "Keep that udder in your mouth." "Mmm, mmm" As his blows reached a crescendo, she started shaking violently and let the nipple go front her mouth, moaning and groaning. Her eyes were closed, and her face was flushed. "What the fuck are you doing? Stop your stupid mooing, you damned cow!" "I don't know," she said, after recovering. He stood in disbelief as she breathed heavily, her shoulders going up and down. "You get orgasms from having your udders whipped?" "I dunno. Never happened before." "Shit, you're one strange cow." He struck her udder open handed, making it bounce and her cry out. "Well, let me try something else less pleasant." Going to the bathroom, he fetched a dry washcloth, then went to his overnight bag. The bulge in his boxers was four inches long and hard as a rock. A tube was squirted into the rag and he approached her. "Kneel, slut." She had difficulty coming to her knees, but barely managed without help. "This should teach you a lesson you haven't learned yet." He began rubbing a white ointment on her red skin, working it thickly and covering all her ponderous expanse and rubbing it in after he covered each orb, a minty aroma filling the air. "What's that?" She asked innocently. "A typical muscle relaxant, which feels differently on sensitive skin. You're probably starting to feel the tingle before it become a fire." "Oh yes, it tingles. Oh, oh, now it's burning a little, ow,ow,ow,ow." "And while you're enjoying that new sensation, it's time for a little white ointment for your face." He took out his four inch rod and began to stroke it in front of her forehead. Her face began turning red as he jacked off in front of her; the pain in that ugly face and lumpy body turned him on like nothing before. His hand moved quicker and quicker until the sperm built in his balls again and he sprayed a long, sticky stream of white goo all over her face and hair. Her mouth opened and her tongue licked in the semen within reach. The last few egg white drops flew out and his cock started to go limp. Her eyes were shut in an epiphany. Pulling away in disgust, he pulled up his boxers and put away his toys. Reaching down, he untied her hands and helped her stand. "You're one strange bitch. Get the fuck out of here, stupid." "Are you going to call the manager?" she asked, sperm still plastered on her face. "No. Just get the fuck out of my life." He picked up her sweatshirt and vest and threw them at her, crossing to enter the bathroom and turn on the water. She stood there, wiping every drop of goo from her face and licking it off her fingers. "Get the fuck out of here!" he shouted, and after putting her blouse and top back one, she opened the door and pushed her cart from the room. ****** Three days later, Frank was driving back after a midday start from Cheyenne. The meetings accomplished nothing, the meals were boring and the company completely uninteresting. The last night, he cruised the red light area, but every girl he talked to was cagey, and he was afraid they were cops, so he went to his small room unsatisfied. By chance, he got tired at Kearney, Nebraska, and pulled into the same hotel to spent the night. The clerk was the same clerk he had four nights earlier, and checked him in the same bored way. The room was a different one, on the top floor and as far from the front desk as possible, but there was an elevator, so Frank didn't complain. The AC was busted, but the evening was cool, so Frank opened his window rather than complain to the front desk. It had been a shitty week and he was resigned to every last turd. At least he'd be home tomorrow, and suffer in familiar surroundings. He fell asleep during Leno, and had a strange dream where he was promoted to the CEO position, but nobody listened to him, including his mistress, Ashley Simpson. Awakening suddenly with a full bladder, he stumbled to the toilet, lowering the seat and sitting to urinate out of laziness, dozing as his bladder emptied. When the last drop slid out, he went back and fell into a dreamless sleep until it was shattered around daybreak. The sound of a vacuum cleaner shattered his sleep. A dim figure wearing an iPod was going back and forth at the bottom of his bed. Bolting upright, he shouted: "What the fuck are you doing here?" The figure kept on going, back and forth, the wan light of the vacuum's face created an undulating pool of light at the base of his bed. Frank reached and touched the shoulder of the figure at the bottom of the bed. "Stop, stop, you stupid cow! What the fuck are you doing here?" The figure stood up, feigning surprise poorly. "Oh my, I'm sorry sir, I thought this room was empty." "Don't you know which rooms are occupied, your daft bitch!" The woman was of average height with white hair. There was something about the form that looked familiar to him. "Wait a minute," he said as his senses cleared, "wait a fucking minute! You're the idiot who burst in on me when I was here a couple of days ago." The gathering light revealed the flat features of the woman he tortured on his way to Wyoming. Her big eyes turned toward him with a strange glint of hope as he stared at her. "Am I, sir? I hope you're not going to complain about me to the manager. I can't lose this job." "Yes, yes, you're the bitch. What the fuck are you doing here?" "'M sorry, I made a mistake. I'll do anything if you won't turn me in. Please, sir." He rubbed his eyes and turned on the beside light. It was the same woman, in the same corporate vest, brown slacks and white top. She stood there dumbly, looking at him expecting something. "I don't understand this. Why the hell are you back here?" "Please sir, don't turn me in. I can't lose this job." Standing up in his grubby underwear, he went over to stand in front of her. With a single motion, he tore the vest and shirt off her torso, spraying buttons in every direction. She stood there looking at him, her sheer white bra struggling to contain her massive mammaries. "I'll do anything," she whispered. He rubbed his bald head and tried to clear his senses. "You're back here because you want to be, don't you? Are you that hard up?" She blinked as she looked at him. "Please, sir," she whispered. Reaching around, he undid her bra and her heavy breasts tumbled down toward her waist. The bra went sailing into a corner of the room, and he gave her left breast a load slap that drew a wince from her. Another slap in the same place, and a left handed blow to her right breast. She looked at him with large eyes and for a few moments he went wild, smacked her heavy udders and making them wobble madly recoiling from his assault. "Do you want to tie my hands?" she asked. Pausing in his ire, he looked at her standing placidly in front of him. "Who are you?" he said at last. "Lucy Lewis." "Are you from here?" "No. I grew up in Harrisonville, Missouri. I came up here ten years ago." "Are you married?" "No." "Dating?" "No." "Children?" "No." "Are you a virgin?" She bit her lip and trembled before reluctantly shaking her head in agreement. "How old are you?" "Forty." He slapped her drooping udders several times in frustration. A couple of tears escaped her eyes. "Forty five?" Another volley of punishment was endured silently. "Forty eight." Her eyes were resigned, and he looked at her several moments in silence. A few more slaps brought a high squeak and a nod of her head. "Why did you come here today?" She looked down. "I liked it. I never imagined, never thought. But I came harder than I ever did with my vibrator." Anger welled up in him again, fed by the frustration of his trip, and he slapped her dropping dugs again. "How did you know I was here?" "I checked the records after you left. I got your license plate number, figured you might come back. I asked Jaime to call me if you came back." "Jaime is the night clerk?" "Yes." She started shifting her weight on her feet, making her jugs sway back and forth. "He called me last night. I came back, hoping, hoping. . ." "Hoping what?" "Hoped you'd do my tits again," she whispered feebly. Frank turned away from her and looked outside. The light was growing brighter and his stomach was starting to rumble anticipating breakfast. He looked back at her: her bulbous body, her white hair bun, her incredibly big hips. "Your udders are ridiculous. They're floppy, pale and wrinkled. I can't believe how low your nipples are. Only a pervert would get turned on by these udders." Lifting a ponderous boob, she brought her hard nipple a half inch from her mouth. "Do you want me to suck own my nipple?" "I taught you something, didn't I?" "Yes," she whispered. "I've sucked my tits every night since I met you. It feels so good." "Suck your udder." Obediently, she put her nipple in her mouth and began sucking it. After a moment, she took it out and ran her tongue around the areola, circling it lovingly. Don't Bother Me! He reached out and grabbed her udder away from her, squeezing the brown bud hard. She looked at him with big eyes, wincing with every tweak. He pulled it up high and threw it down hard, making it bounce several times before it came to rest. She moaned and he hit her other breast with a load, open handed smack. An evil grin spread across his face. "I just remembered." "What?" "Something in my bag. Something that will make me happy." Digging through his effects, he took out a pair of mousetraps, still in their shrinkwrap. Breaking the cellophane, he put them on the table next to her udders. "Have you ever had a mousetrap snap shut on your finger accidentally?" Her face went blank and she thought. "No." "Well this will be different." Guiding the trap across the table, he opened it and pulled it back. He maneuvered the trap just under the end of her udder, and put the nub in range of the wicked metal. "Ready?" "For what?" "For this thing to snap shut on your dainty nipple?" "Oh. No, I'm not ready for that." "Too bad." With a sharp report, the metal flew down to bounce off her hard nub, making her scream. The jumping trap failed to catch her bud, so he went to the bathroom to find a washcloth. "This is so the neighbors won't here us," he sneered, shoving the terrycloth into her mouth. "Here we go again," he said, pulling open the trap again. The trap snapped shut, making her scream through her gag, and this time it held the hard bud tightly in its metal embrace. He took the other trap and maneuvered it under her other breast; with a loud snap, it flew down on the soft skin and caught its prey the first time. "You look silly with your udders in mousetraps. Your big, fat udders laying on the table with mousetraps on your nipples. It's going to be fun watching those thick eraser heads turn bright red, and hearing your scream when I take them off. The longer I leave them on, the greater the pain when I release them." She looked at him with wide eyes as he watched. Taking off his belt, he doubled it and slapped his hand softly, noticing her response. Suddenly, the leather descended with a loud report, and an angry red mark across the top of her breasts appeared. She trembled and another blow descended. He licked his lips and hit her again and again. Reaching down, he pinched her right areola, drawing a whine through the washrag. "Shall I give you a sneak preview?" he said. Caressing her right breast, he moved his fingers down where the grasped the bar of the mousetrap and pulled it up. Her breath came in short bursts as the color returned; he let her savor her liberty about thirty seconds before he dropped the bar again. Another squeal came from the gag, and he smiled with delight. He repeated the procedure on her left breast, stroking and teasing it before releasing the nub, but this time he milked it as the blood returned. The trap snapped shut again after about thirty seconds, drawing another whimper. Coming around behind her, he reached over her head and began to caress her huge churns from behind, squeezing and kneading them. Her eyes closed and she moaned as he touched her. "I don't want to touch any other part of your body. I just want to have your udders. To touch and to hold, to squeeze and to pinch, to whip and to torture. You want this, don't you?" Her head nodded and she moaned again. Reaching in, he pulled the washrag from her mouth and she moved her lips several times as she got used to her freedom. "That feels so good," she whispered. "What else do you have to offer me?" he growled. "What do you mean?" "Did you like it when I splooged your face?" She nodded quietly. "I wish you would cum in my mouth." "How do I know you won't bite my dick off? After all this pain, you'd probably like to sink your teeth in my bite sized cock." She pushed with her tongue and a plate slipped. "No, never. I got false teeth. When I take 'em out, there's nothing but gums." A thought crossed his mind. Taking his broad belt, he wound up and began lashing her pale white jugs again with the belt. The morning light was enough he could see angry red stripes on her breasts. "Enough?" "More," she whispered. He hit her several more times, harder than before. "More." The brown nipples became his target and she cried out as he landed several savage blows across the soft buds. Her nipples were turning purple in the traps. "Now's the time. No screaming, or the gag goes back." With a flourish, he pulled the trap off her right udder; her head buckled open mouthed as the blood rushed back painfully. He reached over and milked the wrinkled bud, bringing more anguish, until it returned to its normal color. "There's one more. One more round of this. Look at your fat nipple, turning deep purple. I have to let the blood back in; it will hurt. Ready?" A nod. "Here we go." The trap came off to a slight high pitched keen that was cut off abruptly. He milked the abused bud as it recovered as she trembled and writhed under him. Suddenly, he smelled a strong musk and saw a large spot on the front of her trousers. "You came again." Several heavy breaths gusted in and out. "I'm still doin' it. Don't know why. My tits hurt so much, my nipples feel like they're gonna fall off, but, but, but, it's that hardest I've cum." Looking behind her, he noticed a coat hanger with two clamps; it was held by a bracket on top that removed easily, giving him a bar to manipulate it. Then he went to his computer bag and took out a small box. "Do you know what I can do with this?" He said showing her the hanger. "I don't know, sir." "Call me Mr. Fletcher if you know my name, bitch." "I don't know, Mr. Fletcher." "I'm going to put your poor nipples in these. But first, I want to do something else special. What's this?" "A box of thumbtacks?" "A box of thumbtacks. Sharp thumbtacks. Suppose I spread them on the table." "Okay. Then what?" "Supposed I take your big boobs and throw them on the table?" "Yes?" "Hard" "Yes?" "On the tacks." A look of panic crossed her face. "The tacks would stick in my boobs." "Yes." "Then, I would put my dick in your mouth and let you give me that gummer you want so badly. After I've filled your throat with my yogurt, I'll let you pull the tacks out and then give you a bath in rubbing alcohol, no, hydrogen peroxide, just to make sure you don't get an infection." "Wou'din it sting?" "I believe it would. It would hurt like hell, especially as the peroxide foams all over your bloody udders, killing all the germs. Now, you have a choice: we go forward with this entertainment, or I throw your fat ass out of here and I never see you again." Lucy thought for a couple of moments. "If I stay, will you came back here?" He looked down at her, topless with the skin of her udders bright red from a beating splayed out on the table. The nipples had returned to their normal hue and laid there, hardening in the cool air. Her face was questing, anxious, inviting. Frank shook his head and dug the bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of his bag. "I don't know. Maybe." "I want you to come back. I want to spend a night." "You think I wanna spend my time with a pig like you?" She grinned hideously. "Bet'cha ain't seen nobody like me before." "No." She reached into her mouth and took her dentures out, leaving a huge hole in her face. Her lips hung limply, with her tongue inside, her cheeks hollow. Reaching out, she pulled his boxers down and began kissing his penis. It swelled immediately and she took the head in her mouth. Slapping her face away, he growled: "First things first. Are you ready for what comes next?" Her lower lip quivered, her nipples hardening. "Yes." Her eyes looked up to him imploringly. Opening the box of tacks, he roughly showed her huge boobs off the table and poured them out, taking a few moments to make sure they were all point up and in range. Viciously, he clamped her brown nipples in the coat hanger clamps. She yelped twice in pain as the harsh jaws closed on tender flesh. "Does that feel good, bitch? Does it? Does it?" "It hurts," she whimpered. "What?" "It hurrrts, it hurrts, it hurrrrts," she moaned. "Good, I want it to hurt. I want it to hurt as much as this stupid ass trip is hurting me, as much as my idiot boss ought to hurt for making me do this shit." He whipped her udders again with his belt, several times, making them bounce in their confinement. Then, he pulled the hanger up, hauling her heavy jugs high and exposing the expanse of egg white flesh. He held the hanger high over the table, letting her eyes drink in all the impending peril. Tears flowed from her eyes. With a grunt, he slammed the churns on the table; she yelped as a dozen tacks pierced her flesh. Pulling them up, he regarded the number sticking and slammed the hanger down again. An inspection and a third time down, then he pushed down on her breasts to impale her in as many places as possible. Picking up the remaining tacks from the table, he stuck them in the tops of her breasts one at a time, laughing gleefully at each prick. She yelped feebly at each little stab as he punctured her again and again until her massive churns were covered with tack heads. Whipping out his cell phone, Frank took several pictures of Lucy's pain from different angles before he snapped it shut. Then as rivers of tears flowed down her face, he approached with his rock hard four inch dick and stuck it deep into her mouth with one thrust. Her inept blow job was too dry at first, the saliva building slowly, and she almost chewed too hard with her gums on his shaft, but with the excitement of fresh torture his balls began to tingle almost immediately as they filled with sperm. His breath started coming in large gulps, he started to tremble, and his cock erupted with a ferocious series of pulses, shooting globs of semen into Lucy's waiting mouth, creeping out of the corners of her mouth as it almost overflowed, but she sucked down as much as she could, frantically working on the spongy head of his cock and making him shudder uncontrollably as she milked him dry. "Stop, stop, that's all I've got." He pulled away and fell back on the bed, his limp dick gleaming in the faint light. Her tongue worked all around her mouth, licking the sperm off her own face, her hands still behind her. Her breasts still lay on the table, still marked by red stripes and roughness around the nipples. Her head lolled back in ecstacy. After a few moments disorientation, he sat up and looked at her. "I've gotta get goin'. First, I've got to check my e-mail. Put your clothes on, slut." "Slut," she said dreamily. "Slut. Yes, I'm a slut. I'm a tit slut." Drops of blood were visible on the table as she sat there, her hair a mess and her nipples turning bright red in the coathanger's confinement. "But what 'bout the tacks in my tits?" "Damn, forgot about that. We've got a little time and a little more work. Get a towel from the bathroom and pick them out." It took a couple of minutes for the laptop to boot up; Frank used the time to run through the shower and he mowed his face while he saw his inbox. Lucy went over to the mirror to hold up her painful breasts and slowly pick every tack from her abused flesh, her face wincing with every piece of sharp metal removed. He scowled as his inbox revealed a message from the work address. A note from his boss: he opened it and howled at the top of his lungs. "What's wrong, Mr. Fletcher?" "That bastard, that bastard. I've got to make the same damn trip next week. The client was interested, but wants to talk some more. Shit, I'm not going to have a life when this is over." "Are you mad?" The tacks made little clicks as they hit the dresser. "Shit, yes, I'm mad." "When do you have to be home?" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Do you have to go back now?" Frank shut off the shaver and sat on his unused bed. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his bald head and pondered. "I guess I don't have to be there until tomorrow morning." "Still mad?" "Yes, hell, yes." "You can hit my tits some more," she said calmly, her eyes pleading. "I'm just about to come. But first take the hanger off. Then I'll suck you again, or do anything you want." Frank looked at her in the morning light, an ugly woman with her huge, naked udders resting on the table, nipples erect, begging for attention. He ripped the hanger from her bloody breasts and she gasped as the blood returned to them a second time. "I think we need to use the hydrogen peroxide. Don't want your ridiculous floppy udders getting infected, do we?" "No," came the small, childlike voice. "No. Sit at the table with the towel under your udders." She complied immediately, the towel turning red as her breasts leaked. He fetched a bottle from his suitcase and opened it. "Now, this will really hurt, so I'm going to put a washrag in your mouth." The air was rent with her muffled screams as the liquid poured over her breasts and foamed on the undersides. Frank lifted them up to make sure every puncture was bathed; Lucy hooted and howled as the foam cleansed them. His fat fingers milked the raw nipples, twisting them and pulling them as his anger built. Her eyes were overflowing with tears, running down her face in rivers. Her shoulders shook and her entire body quivered at the punishment her breasts endured. The peroxide foamed and foamed, scouring her skin. His hands held up her breasts and made sure the burning liquid gained maximum access to her damaged flesh. Satisfied with her agony, he went around, forced her face to the table which lifted her hips up, and peeled down the spandex to reveal her butt. It was gigantic, pocked cellulite and angry red zits, with tufts of black hair peeking from the valley. A loud smack resounded and the red mark of his belt appeared on the globes. Smiling, he started whipping her ass, laying down a nest of marks as he moved up and down to cover the white target. Much to his chagrin, his small pecker roused again, enjoying his vengeance. Her muffled howls were music to his ears, and she squirmed and wiggled as fresh pain scorched her pale white skin. A hand came free and slipped between her thighs, frantically rubbing her slit and bringing her to another huge orgasm. "I didn't tell you to do that," he snarled. "When did I say you would finger fuck yourself?" "You didn't," came the faint reply. "Keep your fat fingers in your cunt until I tell you to move them. You like it when I whipped your ass?" "Yes." "You like it when I punctured your tits?" "Yes." "And you felt you could stick your fingers in your cunt anytime you felt like it around me." There was no answer. "How many fingers are in your slit right now?" "Three." "Is there room for more?" "I don't know. I think so." "We're going to have to do something about that." He looked through his briefcase and found his small repair kit. A pair of needle nose pliers emerged. Coming around he held them in front of her face, an evil grin on his. "Do you know what I'm going to do with these?" "No. I dunno. Pinch my tits agin?" "No. I'm going to reach in between your huge butt cheeks and pluck every hair out of your asshole." She looked up at him stolidly. 'Oh." "You want to quit now?" A long pause. "Yes." "Then I'm going to fuck your freshly plucked butt. Anybody ever cornhole your ass?" "No." "And if you can deal with that, then I'll put as much of my hand and arm up your flue I can. Do you want that, or do you wanna leave?" No response, but her huge body began to quiver. He went around behind and spread her cheeks, revealing her hairy brown pucker. "Say uncle and this ends. Ready?" "Yes." "Number one." Reaching in, he grasped a wiry hair with the pliers and pulled it with a sharp movement. A sharp yelp broadened his grin, and he came around to stuff a washrag back in her mouth. Twang and twang deforested her brown skin, and muffled yips made his manhood bounce in anticipation. The silver arms embraced each new dancing partner and brought it out, putting it in the trash. Flecks of red began to appear around the wrinkled skin. The task ended. She turned to look back at him, her eyes full of tears and expectation, the towel beneath her red. He went around behind her and thrust his fingers in beside hers, looking for dampness. Smearing it on his cock, he plowed into her back channel, drawing a new series of hoots as he ravaged his asshole without much lubrication or mercy, grunting with pleasure as he filled her back passage and she moaned again with a fresh orgasm. "Take your hand out," he ordered. "Here comes the grand finale." He prodded her slit, and found a slimy swamp. Two fingers made the first reconnaissance, joined by a third and fourth; her hips rotated and ground against his hand. Pulling out, he made a fist and started pushing in. She pushed back accepting the intruder, and he was in past his wrist. Through the washrag, she moaned and moaned in delight as he went deeper, getting halfway up his forearm and thrusting vigorously. Her body began to quiver madly, and soon she spit the washrag out. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Mr. Fletcher. Ahhhhh!" He kept his hand in while her orgasm shuddered for a seeming lifetime. Pulling it out, he stood her up, the crimson towels dropping from her abused tits, and the sweat plastering her hair back from her pudgy face. Taking a deep breath, he sighed. "I don't think I have to leave until noon."