© Copyright 2017 - The Technician - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; snow; blizzard; motel; strip; naked; mast; club; M+/f; drug; mask; carry; spank; exhibition; group; oral; sex; anal; climax; mistake; fantasy; offer; nc/cons; X
Non-consensual, Public Nudity, Public Spanking, Public Sex, Public Exhibition, Oral, Anal, Cabaret Setting
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What is the cost of any port in a storm during a blizzard?
Winters in Northern Iowa can get pretty brutal when the wind is from the west and the moisture is coming in from the south. The resulting blizzards can shut down everything– except, as Mandy would soon discover, Big Jake’s Erotic Emporium. It is there that she finds herself the center of attention during a Midwest blizzard.
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Amanda Crawford stared through the ice-covered windshield at the snow blowing horizontally across the road. She was trying to make out the side of the road... or see the center stripe... or see anything which would tell her if she was on her side of the road. Right now, except for the fact that her tires sounded like they were on a hard surface, she couldn’t be sure that she was even on the road.
This angry and slightly fearful woman should be relaxing in a heated spa at the motel where she had made reservations for tonight, but she missed a turn somewhere in the blowing snow right after sundown and was now wandering through God knows where on roads that were rapidly drifting over.
She had always used her phone as her GPS. The maps were good even in the more remote areas she had to visit. But either the system was down or, more likely, the heavy, blowing snow absorbed the cell phone signals so badly that they no longer reached out into wherever it was that she was now driving.
She used her gloved hands to pull herself closer to the windshield. She felt like a little old lady driving like this, but despite the constant scraping of her wipers, the ice was building up on her windshield to the point where she had only a few inches at the bottom through which to see the road. Even diverting all of the heat to the defrosters did little to nothing except use up what heat was available and leave the car itself cold.
Amanda had to be little-old-lady close to see out, but now her breath was fogging what little clear glass was still available. She slumped back against her seat and let out a deep sigh. Her breath filled the cold car like a small cloud of fog. “Why in the hell didn’t I check out what Iowa winters are really like BEFORE I took this territory,” she muttered to herself.
Amanda– known to her friends as Mandy– was trying to break into one of the last of the good ol’ boy clubs... farm-related sales. Specifically, she was a field representative for a large farm equipment company. Her job description said she wasn’t a sales person, but in reality that was exactly what she was. Her job was to regularly visit the dealers and convince them to keep their inventory of parts and equipment at the levels desired by the company. By any definition– except her company’s– that was sales.
Being a beautiful woman worked both ways for Amanda in her position. Her looks always got her in the door. She had more appointments with managers and owners than anyone else. But at the same time, because of her looks, those same people didn’t take her seriously– that is, until she started talking. There was almost no question about the equipment or the business she couldn’t answer. She even knew about equipment that hadn’t been in use actively since the twenties.
With a little luck and a lot of effort, some day she would be a regional manager or higher up on the company’s organizational chart. But for now, she was a lowly district representative who had to make monthly visits to all of her clients. And that included the winter months.
“I’m going to die out here,” she said mournfully, as she scraped the frost off the inside of the windshield with her glove. She then sighed and added, “I don’t mind freezing to death, if that’s what’s in the cards...” Her voice became loud as she slammed her hands against the steering wheel and shouted angrily, “... but dammit, couldn’t I at least freeze to death someplace warm?!”
She laughed at the absurdity of what she had just said and then scolded herself, saying, “Mandy, Mandy, Mandy, you’re starting to get irrational. It is highly unlikely that you would ever freeze to death on a beach back home in Florida. If you are going to freeze to death it is going to be someplace like right here in almost-God-damned-Minnesota, northwestern Iowa.”
She then yelped and screamed excitedly, “But you aren’t dying out here tonight. There are lights up ahead.”
She wasn’t sure what it was, or for sure how far away, but there were definitely lights ahead causing the snow to glow a bluish white.
It didn’t appear to be a town. There wasn’t enough light. But at the same time, it was too much light for a farm house. It might be a truck stop or perhaps a roadhouse or motel a little ways out in the country.
Amanda didn’t care what it was. The blizzard was rapidly closing the roads and any port in a storm meant exactly that– any port in a storm. Whatever it was, it was where she would stop. She would hunker down there and tomorrow– or the next day– or perhaps even the next– she would continue on. If there was any phone service, she could reschedule her meetings and appointments tonight. Otherwise, she would have to wait until the storm cleared or until she got out of this middle of nowhere.
The glowing snow ahead was gradually becoming a circle of white snow globes. Those globes were formed around yard lights which surrounded a strange looking building that could only be described as a round pyramid. It was a shed of some sort that was round at the bottom– actually eight- or twelve-sided– with a roof that started at the ground on each of the many sides and then peaked at the top. One side was taken up with a huge door.
The pyramid was surrounded by a dozen or so orange snowplow trucks. One truck, parked in the cavernous door, still had its yellow flashers on, adding a little color to the glow. The other trucks, from the misty smoke coming from their tailpipes, were obviously running, but their flashers were off while they sat waiting to be filled with salt.
On the opposite side of the highway from the round pyramid was a small, run-down motel. Alongside it was an even more run-down looking building with a purple neon sign on the front which said, “Big Jake’s Erotic Emporium.” In front of those words was a pink champagne glass with a bright red cherry in it. The red cherry blinked on and off at about the same speed as the flashers on the trucks across the street.
“That must be a popular place,” Mandy thought to herself as she noted a dozen or so four-wheel-drive vehicles parked around the building. “Or they must have one hell of a show planned for tonight,” she added as she noticed the many snowmobiles parked among the drifts further out in the parking lot.
The lights from the buildings and parking lots barely added to the glow given off by the salt storage facility. Had it not been for the state or county facility across the road, she might not have even noticed either building as she drove past.
The parking lot for the motel hadn’t been plowed. There were no snowmobiles, but it appeared to be full of cars, most of which had obviously been there since before it started snowing. They weren’t much more than car-shaped bumps in the deep snow. The chances of a room being available were obviously pretty slim.
“I don’t care if I have to sleep in the lobby,” Mandy said loudly to herself. “I’m getting inside out of this blizzard.”
She turned the wheel hard and prayed that the car would bounce over the snow plow ridge which blocked the entrance to the motel. There was a soft scrapping noise as the front of the car ramped over the ridge and then settled back down. Had she been timid about it, her car would have been left teetering on the piled up ice and hard-packed snow, but she approached that roadblock as she approached life, full speed ahead.
The car bounced into the soft, deep, snow in the parking lot and began to skid in a wide, slow arc. Mandy turned into the skid and regained control... more or less. The car was now slowly skidding nose first toward the front of the motel... and into one of the few remaining open parking places in the entire lot. There was no real chance of stopping, so Mandy took her foot off the brakes and let it go. She gave a loud “umpfff” as her front tires hit the parking block and the momentum threw her against the steering wheel.
“Any landing you can walk away from,” she said with a laugh after she regained her breath. Then grabbing her purse from the passenger seat, she opened her door and stepped out into the more than knee-deep snow.
Her lower legs felt like they were on fire as they rubbed against the cold snow, and the cold wind blew up under her coat as she forced her way through the snow toward the office. Her short skirt did little to protect her upper legs from the wind’s icy breath. A miniskirt seems like a poor choice to wear in her profession– especially in the middle of winter, but it showed off her shapely legs, so for Mandy, the miniskirt was just one more sales tool. Her long legs often got her in the door. And if her legs got her in the door, then she could show the owners and managers that she knew her business... and theirs.
Several times sales managers– or general managers– thinking to embarrass her, had asked her to come with them out into the fields or had indicated that there was something under the equipment they wanted her to see. Their look of disappointment when she pulled a set of coveralls and boots out of her trunk always brought a smile to her face.
There was no time to retrieve the coveralls tonight. Besides, she wasn’t sure the trunk wasn’t frozen shut by the snow and ice. She pulled her coat more tightly around her slim body and trudged through the snow to the dimly-lit office. Her heels slipped in the deep snow, but her “field shoes” were in the trunk with her boots and coveralls. If necessary, she would walk the rest of the way barefoot.
The clerk glanced up at her for just a second as she stepped into the motel office. “We’re closed, ma’am,” he said without really looking up.
“Your lights are on,” she replied. “Your door is open. And you are sitting here. How can you say you’re closed?!”
“Waiting for a reservation to get in late,” he said, still not meeting her eyes, but instead continuing to stare at the screen of a laptop which he had sitting on the desk alongside the monitor and keyboard which were apparently part of the motel registration system.
“If they are coming from south of here,” she said firmly, “they aren’t going to make it.” Then pointing out the windows she said, “All the state trucks are turning north– I assume toward town. That means they have taken the plows off the road for the night and won’t be back until daylight tomorrow.”
The clerk finally looked up and glanced out the badly frosted windows. “Town’s east of here,” he said slowly. “Road takes a sharp right about a quarter mile up. But you’re probably right. They’re pullin’ the plows ‘til daylight.”
“Then you have a room available?” she said hopefully.
The clerk scratched at the side of his face and said, “Not exactly. All rooms have been contracted and paid for in advance. Only one person hasn’t showed yet.” Again looking out the window, he added, “There was supposed to be a special show next door tonight.”
He then spent several moments looking up and down Mandy’s weary body and said brusquely, “Besides, I don’t think you want to stay here.”
“Why not?” she asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.
“Well,” he said, continuing to scratch at the stubble on his face, “if the sign on the roof weren’t totally covered with snow and ice, you would see that this is “Big Jake’s Fantasy Motel.” He smiled and said, “We are well outside the city limits and right on the county line. State line’s just a few miles north of here. That puts us right in the middle of I-don’t-care-what-you-do-out-there nowhere. We don’t sell alcohol and don’t have live entertainment here at the motel, so nobody can say what we can or can’t do out here.” He again carefully examined Mandy’s body before saying, “So... we have a specialty business that caters to people’s fantasies.”
“Since the place next door,” Mandy said, “is Big Jake’s Sexual Emporium, I assume those fantasies are X-rated.”
“More like triple X,” the clerk replied. “And kinky shit like that costs a lot of money. Room rates reflect that... ‘nother reason why you wouldn’t want to stay here.”
“Look,” Mandy said, dropping into her sales persuasion mode, “whoever reserved that room isn’t going to make it. With a blizzard and all, you might not even be able to keep their deposit. I’m willing to rent that room for one night, at the going rate. I’ll figure out some way to put it on my expense account and get the company to pay for it. It’s a blizzard. They will understand.”
After another long period of face and chin scratching, the clerk finally said, “Well, if you’re willin’ to pay the goin’ rate,” and turned around a clipboard containing a registration form so that it was facing her.”
He grinned at her– or was it a leer– and asked, “I have some standard fantasies that could be added on to the base rate if you want to look at a menu.”
“I think I’ll take just the room,” she replied as she filled out the form. For the rate indicated on the form, Amanda could have stayed three or more nights at a five-star hotel, but any port in a storm means any port in a storm. She filled out the form and handed her credit card to the clerk.
“Amanda, eh,” he said as he scanned the form. “That’s a real coincidence. The woman who had that room reserved was named Amanda.”
“See,” Mandy replied, “it was meant to be.”
The clerk just printed out a receipt and said, “Well, in any case, you’ve got a room for the night. Just don’t you go disputing these charges later. You had a chance to read the full contract before agreeing to the room. ... And I warned you verbally in advance that it would be expensive.”
“I understand,” she replied. “Just give me the key so I can get some sleep.”
The clerk handed her the receipt and a standard motel electronic key. The image printed on the key was the naked girl usually seen in chrome on a trucker’s mud-flap, but it was done in flames with additional flames flickering above her.
“The rooms all have inside and outside doors,” the clerk said. Then he added, “Your room is right in front of your car.”
“There’s nothing I need bad enough in my car to go back out in that,” she answered as she looked back out the lobby door. Then pointing at a hallway to the clerk’s right, she asked, “I assume this leads to the inside door.”
“Third door on the right,” he answered and went back to his computer monitor.
Amanda walked quickly down the dingy hallway. To her surprise, the key card worked on the first try. The dim light in the hallway barely reached into the room. She felt on the wall to the left of the door for a light switch.
There were two switches. The first lit up the bathroom, which was a standard motel restroom. It looked old, but appeared to be clean and functional. The second switch turned on two lamps in the room. Their heavily-shaded bulbs created a deep red glow in the room but didn’t provide much light.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Mandy could see that most of the room was taken up by an old-fashioned four-poster bed with thick posts supporting an ornate wooden canopy. Ducking slightly she could see that the inside of the canopy was a single, huge mirror.
After hanging up her coat and stripping off her wet clothing, Mandy pulled the plush cover aside and lay down on her back. Her almost-naked self looked down on her from the mirror.
“There’s no doubt what this bed is for,” she said with a laugh. Looking around at the heavy hooks on the ceiling and the other strange-looking furniture, she added, “... or this room.”
She got back up off the bed and removed her bra and panties. “Lucky I sleep nude anyway,” she said as she walked to the bathroom to rinse out her undies and hang them over a towel bar. After a quick, hot shower, she returned to the bed and again sprawled beneath the mirror.
Now her fully-naked self watched as one hand slid over her lower abdomen. Her other hand plucked at one of her nipples.
“I should have gone back to the car for my suitcase,” she said with a sigh. She had told the clerk that there wasn’t anything in the suitcase that she needed, but that wasn’t exactly true. Tucked into a side pocket of that suitcase was her travel vibrator. It wasn’t as big or strong as her favorite vibrator back home, but it had an actual switch on the base that guaranteed it wouldn’t accidently come on in her suitcase and create an embarrassing situation.
Mandy often needed her vibrator to relieve stress while on the road, and today had been an especially stressful day. She sighed again as her hand found her clit and her fingers began to circle that sensitive nubbin. Meanwhile, the fingers of the other hand traveled the length of her body, first plucking and tweaking at her nipples, then descending to between her legs to slide through her ever-more-slippery slit before reversing course and sliding upward across the hand still massaging her pleasure spot to make its way back to her breasts.
“I really need to find a man,” she said to her mirror image. “One that isn’t afraid of a strong woman.” She gasped lightly as her fingers slid across her clit. “I’ve tried playing the weak ingenue,” she said with a slight laugh, still speaking to her mirror self. “But when the real me comes out, they run screaming away.”
Her hand began moving faster. “I need someone more powerful than me to overpower me and fuck me senseless.” She smiled at herself and added with a smile, “... even if I have to goad them into it and then let them do it.”
She was almost there when the phone rang. A loud “Arrrggh!” filled the room. She wanted to ignore the incoming call, but her sales mind couldn’t ignore a ringing phone. Besides, the moment was already gone. “What!” she said as she lifted up the receiver.
“Amanda?” a voice asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
“This is Jake,” the voice said. “I’m calling about the contract. This is your last chance to back out.”
“I already told the creepy clerk that I would honor the contract,” she said. The anger was starting to return to her voice.
“Well,” Jake said, “I needed you saying that for the recording. There are no safewords or safe signals and the contract is a little unusual, so I had to be sure.”
“I know,” she replied. “But there’s a blizzard out there and I drove a long way just to get here. I won’t back out of the contract.”
“Just so we all understand each other,” Jake replied and the line went dead.
Mandy had no sooner hung up the phone when there was a soft knocking on the door. “Now what?” she asked herself as she strode over to the door and looked out through the peep hole. The desk clerk was standing in the hallway holding something.
“What do you want?” she asked through the door.
“Compliments of the house,” he said loudly as he held something up to the eye hole in the door.
Mandy could see that it was a bottle of wine or champagne. “Actually, it’s part of the contract the other girl had, but since she’s not going to be here and it’s already open, you might as well have it.”
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I was goin’ to drink it myself, but I called my sponsor instead. He told me to pour it out or give it away.” Lifting the bottle up once again, he added, “You’re the logical one to give it to.”
“Just a minute,” she said as she released the night lock. Then standing behind the door, she reached out with one arm and said, “I’m not dressed, so you’ll have to put it in my hand.”
She felt the cold bottle against the palm of her hand and her fingers closed to grip it. Something poked at one finger and she straightened it. When she pulled her hand back around the door, it was holding a small bottle of champagne. A plastic champagne flute was tucked under her middle finger.
“Probably not a vintage year,” she said softly as she poured some of the bubbly liquid into the plastic glass.
Actually it was pretty good. There was an odd after-taste, but other than that, it compared well to champagne she had ordered in fine restaurants. There was enough in the small bottle for two and a half glasses. She gulped the first one and then sat on the bed sipping the second glass.
She was surprised at how fast it hit her. Almost immediately, she could feel her face flushing with a warm, alcohol glow. She could also feel a warmth deep in her loins that seemed to be growing hotter each second. Glancing up at her reflection she said, “I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to.”
She downed the remainder of the glass and picked up the bottle. “No need to be ladylike,” she said with a laugh as she put the bottle to her mouth and poured the remaining liquid down her throat.
She felt strangely “floaty” as she lay back on the bed. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion around her. Her cunt was on fire and her clit was throbbing and begging to be stroked, but she couldn’t bring her hands over to touch herself.
Her eyes looked desperately down at her from her reflection as she shouted out, “Oooooh Myyyyy Goooood! Iiii’mmm sooo horneeey! Iiii neeeed sooomeboody to fuuuuck me!” Her voice sounded far away and distorted as she repeated, “Fuuuuck meeeee! Fuuuuck meeeee! Fuuuuck meeeee!
“That’s exactly what we intend to do,” said a voice from above her. Her eyes moved frantically from side to side as she realized that there were dark shapes all around her bed.
A distorted face leaned in over her and said, “She’s a lot younger and prettier than I expected.”
Another voice asked, “You ain’t complaining, are you?”
“She’s a lot smaller, too,” said another voice from the background. “That could be a problem.”
“What’s the matter, Doc?” the distorted face asked.
“The drugs in the wine were supposed to relax her and turn her on,” Doc responded.
“So?” the distorted face asked.
“The dosage is based on weight,” Doc replied. “The form said she weighed one-forty-five. I figure most women lie about their weight, so I calculated the dose for one-sixty.”
Mandy felt a hand squeeze her upper thigh and then the doctor’s voice continued, “She can’t weigh more than one-twenty, tops.”
“Don’t look like she’ll be much entertainment like this,” the distorted face said. “She’s practically knocked out.”
“I’ll think of something,” Doc said curtly. “Just pick her up and carry her over to the club.”
He picked something up from the bedside table and said, “Don’t forget the mask. She didn’t put it on like she was supposed to.”
He then bent over and slid something soft and slippery over Mandy’s head. Her eyes were blocked for a moment as he pulled it into place and fastened something beneath her chin. Looking at herself in the ceiling mirror, she could see that the upper half of her face, as well as all of her hair, was now concealed behind a black, silk mask. She gave a slight giggle as she thought “I’m batman with no bat ears.”
The distorted face once again looked down at her. “Come on, honey,” he said as he grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. “It’s time to go party.”
Once the man had Mandy standing more or less upright, he leaned over and pushed his shoulder against her stomach while grabbing her around the waist. When he stood up, she was laying over his shoulder with her arms dangling toward the ground. As they walked quickly through the snow to the Emporium next door, Mandy could feel the snow biting against her bare skin.
“I sure hope we don’t have to cancel the show,” said the man carrying Mandy. “The guys might be a bit upset... especially after coming here through this blizzard.”
“I said I’d think of something,” Doc answered angrily.
“I think she’s coming ‘round a little anyway,” the man responded. “Must be the cold.”
“That’s it!” Doc exclaimed. Then he shouted. “Tim, you run around back and open the big doors at the back of the stage. Bill, you follow him with the girl. I’ll go tell Jake what’s happening. All that has to change tonight is our slut’s entrance.”
Johnathan “Jake” Jacobson stood on the stage of Big Jake’s Sexual Emporium listening to the crowd become more and more agitated. The only sign that he was becoming anxious was the unconscious tapping of his left foot in time with the loud music that was blaring over the speakers in the club. As his gaze swept back and forth over the hundred or so men in the room, he would pause slightly while looking down the aisle toward the door.
“It should be any minute now,” he said softly. Since he was wearing a microphone, his voice carried throughout the club.
A rather tall, sandy-haired man in black jeans burst through the door and strode up the aisle. Machine-embroidered on the pocket of his white knit shirt it said, “County Veterinary Services.” Beneath that, it read, “Doctor Harold Norseman.”
Jake reached up, wrapped his hand around his microphone, and leaned forward. “What’s up, Doc?” he asked quietly.
“Slight change of program,” Doc replied. “She gave us the wrong weight and ended up overdosed. I could give her a shot of adrenalin to counteract the sedative, but I’ve got an idea that will be much more entertaining and I don’t have to guess at the proper dosage. We need about a dozen volunteers to keep her rolling around in the snow until she’s fully awake.”
Jake walked over to the side of the stage and picked up a hand microphone. “Tell ‘em what you need,” he said as he handed the microphone to Doc.
“OK, guys,” Doc began, “our entertainment tonight is a little under the weather, but we are going to use the weather to wake her up.” As he was speaking, two large, barn-sized doors at the back of the stage swung inward to reveal snow drifts three or four feet deep against the side of the building and two men standing in the snow. The bigger of the two men was carrying a naked woman over his shoulder. The fierce wind of the blizzard was blowing away from the doorway creating a snow-smeared tunnel of light spilling from the club, but still, cold air flowed in through the doors like a wave.
“What I need, Doc continued, “is a dozen volunteers to keep tonight’s slut dancing in the snow until she is fully awake.”
Almost every hand in the room shot into the air as a loud chorus of “Me, Doc,” boomed out from the crowd.
Doc pointed out a dozen men in the front row and they quickly ran onto the stage. Doc turned to the two men standing in the doorway. “Tim,” he began, “you get these men in a circle shoulder to shoulder. Bill, you dump Amanda in the snow in the middle of the circle.”
Turning back to the men on stage, he said, “Just keep her in the snow until she is dancing and screaming.”
Amanda watched in slow motion as the large man carrying her bent slightly at the waist and dumped her off of his shoulder into the snow. The first sensation was icy cold and then it felt as if a thousand tiny ice needles were poking into her skin.
She tried to scream, but it came out as a long bellow, almost like a high-pitched cow crying for its calf. She also tried to jump up out of the snow, but the best she could do was to push herself up to her hands and knees. Her head was still below snow level, so as she looked around all she could see was white.
Then a booted foot pushed against her ass and propelled her, once again, head first into the snow. The scream this time sounded more like a billy goat in pain as she rose to her knees and tried get to her feet. No one had to push her back into the snow. She fell on her own. She did, however, manage to turn her body slightly so that she landed on her back.
The shriek this time was almost human-sounding as she sprang to her feet and turned completely around looking for a way out of the circle of men. One of the men reached out and grabbed her shoulders. He turned her around quickly while at the same time pushing her toward the other side of the circle. She spun into the ground burying herself completely in the wet snow.
She jumped up screaming and swearing. Her voice had returned. “What do you sons of bitches think you are doing?” she screamed as she tried to push her way out of the circle.
“Waking you up,” Bill said with a laugh. “And it looks like it worked.”
“You drugged me!” she yelled in Bill’s face.
“Actually, that was me,” Doc said softly. “And if you had been honest about your weight we wouldn’t have had to dump you in the snow. Of course, the adrenalin that woke you up will also put that overdose of aphrodisiac into overdrive.”
“What aphrodisiac?” Mandy yelled at him. “What’s it do?”
“Let’s get you warmed up a little,” he replied, “and you will find out for yourself.”
He then signaled for the men in the circle to let him pull Mandy out onto the stage. “This slut,” he began to explain to the crowd, “wanted to know what it would be like to fuck one hundred men in one night.”
He reached out and stroked Mandy’s breast as he said, “No safe words. No restrictions except that there be no permanent marks or injuries.”
“What?!” Mandy screamed.
“If you are going to act like a spoiled brat,” Doc said sternly, “we are going to have to treat you like a spoiled brat.” He then turned to the crowd and said loudly, “And what happens to spoiled brats?”
“They get spanked!” yelled back the crowd.
Someone ran onto the stage with a heavy, wooden chair and set it next to Doc. He quickly sat down and pulled Mandy over his lap.
She started to twist around to tell him to put her down, but when she began to speak, rather than a yell, what escaped from her mouth was a long, drawn out sigh as Doc slowly rubbed her ass and lower back. It felt sooooo good. It was as if his fingers were hot– almost on fire–and those burning fingers set her ass on fire. That fire quickly spread from her ass to her belly and then throughout her body.
“Aaaaaaaaaahhhh,” she warbled softly as his fingers slipped slightly between her ass cheeks.
“What do you want?” Doc said as his hands moved slightly down onto the back of her legs.
Mandy attempted to remain silent. She was able to keep herself from speaking, but she could not stop the loud sighs and moans which forced themselves out of her throat.
“What do you want?” Doc repeated as he smacked her lightly on the ass with his open palm.
She pressed her mouth firmly together. The moans were now being held back behind closed lips, but they were still loud enough to be heard by the entire crowd.
“What do you want?” Doc said once again. His voice was getting louder and the sound of his hand striking her ass cheeks was also growing in volume.
“Aaaaahhhh,” she answered.
“That’s not a response,” Doc said severely. He was now slamming the palm of his hand against her ass cheeks, raining blows down first on one reddening globe and then the other.
Mandy was squirming on his lap. The heat within her seemed ready to consume her. She could feel her love juices flowing out of her cunt and soaking Doc’s jeans. Her body was starting to bow upward. Her head was up almost to Doc’s shoulder height. Her legs were curved upward with the knees slightly bent so that they were level with his head.
“What do you want?” Doc repeated once more.
“Fuuuuck meeee!!!” Mandy bellowed. The intensity of her own voice surprised... and scared her.
“Please fuck me!” she screamed out, now losing control not only of her voice, but of her body as she writhed and twisted on Doc’s lap.
“I think I will do exactly that,” Doc said with a laugh. “But first I think I am going to see if spanking you takes you high enough to pop. That mating drug I gave you should need only a little more adrenalin to fully kick in and then you will be totally a bitch in heat.”
He tried to push her head back down toward the floor, but was only partially successful. All he really did was to cause her legs to come even farther up into the air.
“I think I need a little help up here,” he said to the front row. Two men sprang out of their seats and rushed up onto the stage.
“Squat or kneel on either end of her and pull her arms and legs down so her ass is properly presented,” Doc instructed them.
The one at Mandy’s head knelt on the stage and pulled her arms down almost to the floor. The one at her feet squatted and attempted to pull her legs down. After a couple of grunts, he wrapped himself around her ankles and lay on top of her legs, pulling them down until her feet were touching the stage.
“Here goes,” Doc shouted loudly and began spanking once again. Now the pattern of his spanks was right cheek, left cheek, center... right cheek, left cheek, center. Each time he slammed down in the center of her ass, Mandy’s head would snap up and she would give a loud grunt or gasp.
After a several minutes, her gasps were becoming more like shrill moans. A few moments later, those moans were becoming shrill squeaks. Another few moments and those squeaks began to morph together into one, long, keening wail that increased in pitch and volume until suddenly Mandy began to thrash violently and scream out loudly, “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” as her body convulsed in orgasm.
“Hold her for me, boys,” Doc said as he pushed her off of his lap and stood up next to the chair. He then grabbed her hips and brought her more or less into a standing position. The man who had been holding her hands down was now holding her upper arms as she stood bent over at the waist.
Doc slid down the zipper of his black jeans and pulled his impressive member free of its restraint. He lined up with her slit and started to slide the head of his prick slightly up and down to get it lubricated. Mandy felt him at her entrance and gave a loud groan. She then drove her body backwards against him, driving him into herself in one swift stroke. After that, she started rocking in place, pumping Doc’s prick in and out of herself like a giant dildo.
She twisted her arms and pulled them free from the man in front of her. He tried to grab her once again, but stopped when he realized that she was opening the zipper of his jeans. She reached in and freed his almost erect cock. It wasn’t as big as Doc’s, but it was still a decent size. Mandy opened her lips and stuck her tongue slightly out of her mouth. Then sliding the prick along her tongue, she guided it into her mouth as she rocked forward. Neither man was moving as Mandy rocked back and forth between them, fucking herself at both ends.
The rest of the evening for Mandy blurred together in a drug-induced orgasmic haze. She could clearly remember lying on the stage while men patiently waited in line to fuck her. She also remembered squatting over several different men, bouncing up and down on their pricks in time to the music blaring from the speakers while they groaned on the ground beneath her.
At one point– or was it at several points– she impaled herself on one prick and then leaned forward to allow a second cock to enter her ass from behind. She had never really enjoyed anal sex before, but somehow the friction of the two cocks together drove her higher and higher. She knew that at least twice, there were three men, one in each opening.
After what seemed like hours of intense orgasms, Mandy felt herself once again being carried outside through the blizzard. The men were walking much slower than they had when the brought her over from her room. She could feel the sharp sting of the snow biting her exposed skin, but her mind was perceiving it in an almost dream-like way, as if it were happening to someone else.
Finally she could feel herself being dropped back into the bed in her motel room. Her naked self once again looked down at her from the mirror above the bed. Beneath the black mask which still covered the upper portion of her face, her reflection had a loopy grin as she waggled one finger at herself and said aloud, “Mandy, Mandy, Mandy, what in the hell did you get yourself into?” Then she faded off to sleep... or unconsciousness.
When she awoke in the morning, she had a dull headache similar to a hangover, but nowhere near as severe. Removing the tight mask helped somewhat with the headache, but her head still throbbed slightly in the back.
She lay in bed struggling to remember exactly what she had done– or what had been done to her– the night before. She could see from her cum-soaked body that she had definitely been the center attraction at a major orgy. The tenderness of her cunt and asshole reminded her of the excesses of the evening, but the details were still foggy.
It was not until she was half-way through a long, hot shower that she was able to bring everything back into focus. By the time she had dried herself and begun to dress, everything had come back to her. She remembered everything, from the point where the crowd of men had entered her room all the way up to when they dumped her back into the whore-house-style bed.
She had just finished drying her hair when there was a soft knock at her door. “Just a minute,” she called out as she grabbed her blouse off the dresser and hastily buttoned it into place.
“Miss Crawford,” a voice called from the other side of the door, “we need to talk.”
Mandy opened the door. A huge gentleman dressed in jeans and a pale blue western shirt was standing in the hallway with a large, white, cowboy hat in his hands.
“My name is Johnathan Jacobson,” he said with a forced smile. “My friends call me Big Jake.” He paused for a moment and then said, “May I come in?”
Mandy motioned with her hand for him to enter and he stepped into the room. Once inside, he gestured toward the two chairs near the window and said, “Perhaps it would be best if we sat down to talk.”
After both he and Mandy were seated he cleared his throat and said, “It appears that we have had a failure of communication.”
Mandy remained silent. He cleared his throat once again and said, “The woman who was supposed to have had this room last night had purchased a contract to live out a very specific fantasy.”
He looked down at the carpet and said, “Her name was also Amanda.”
There was another small cough before he continued. “We are very careful to be sure that we don’t do anything that someone doesn’t want done to them.” One more cough interrupted him. “That’s why I called last night to verify that Amanda still wanted to go through with what she had paid for.”
“But you didn’t realize that I thought you were talking about the high price for the room for the night,” Mandy said firmly.
“Exactly,” Jake responded. “And that meant that what that other Amanda wanted to happen to her... ... happened to you.”
“Exactly,” Mandy replied.
“Now I know that you have reason... ample reason... to be upset,” Jake continued. “But it was an honest mistake and if it went to a court of law everything would have to come out... including the recording of you saying that you would live up to the terms of the contract.”
“What are you trying to say?” Mandy asked flatly.
Jake blew out a long breath between his teeth as he thought and then said quickly, “What is it going to take to make this go away?”
He held up his hands and waved them slightly in front of his chest. “I’m not saying we didn’t do wrong. I’m not saying that you wouldn’t have a case in court. I’m just saying that this would get blown all out of proportion in the press and everyone would get hurt... including you... if we can’t settle this between ourselves.”
“I’m thinking that it would take a lot to make this go away,” Mandy said quietly.
Jake grimaced as he looked back at her.
“I’m thinking that you would have to give me...” she paused and looked over at Jake who was now nearly crushing his hat with his hands.
“I’m thinking that you would have to give me,” she repeated, “... twenty free fantasies at your Emporium. I think one every three months would be about right.”
Big Jake’s eyes were now wide open. So was his mouth.
“After that,” Mandy continued, “I think a lifetime twenty-five percent discount would be in order.”
“I... I... I... I’d have to increase my ticket prices to make up for that,” Jake sputtered out. “I can’t sell liquor on special performance nights and the guys aren’t there to eat.”
“After what they saw last night,” Mandy responded, “I think they would pay double if they knew I was coming back.”
“Every three months?” Jake said, bringing his hand up to rub his chin. Evidently chin rubbing was common in this area when a man was thinking.
“Every three months,” Mandy repeated.
“Sounds like we have a deal,” Jake said, breaking into a big grin. He reached out and shook Mandy’s hand as he asked, “You got any questions?”
“One,” Mandy answered.
“What?” he asked.
“Where in the hell am I?” she replied.
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END OF STORY
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