Strange Bedfellows Part 1
by DVDynamo (wassupwidat@hotmail.com)

Sable yawned deeply, turning her head from one side to the other as her
entire body bobbed back and forth in rhythm. She had been there....how long
was it now? Christ, thirty minutes or so. She stole a peek over her shoulder
and stifled a second yawn; A-Train was still slamming his cock hard and fast
into her cunt, his hands on her bent-double waist as he did so, a mask of
determination on his heavily-pierced face. The big dope hadn't seemed to
realise that his fuck-partner's pussy was abolutely bone-dry, or that Sable
was showing as much interest in him as the average babe would to a gigantic
hairy freak.

She stretched her arms out from under her body, and for a brief second
sexual excitment twanged between her legs as her index finger flicked over
her swollen left nipple. But that disappeared as soon as it arrived. She
closed her eyes, and patiently waited for it to be over.

It wasn't like she was some unpleasable nympho or anything...well, maybe
she WAS a nympho, but there were still things out there that could drive
her wild. Albert just happened to be really poorly hung for such a huge
guy; most girls could get their juices flowing with six solid inches of
prick, but Sable's many years of careless cock-riding had left her
indifferent to anything under eight or nine inches. She couldn't even get
herself going with guys that small any more; for the men, it was like
fucking a blow-up doll.

"Oh shit-here it-here it-I'm fucking CUMMING--" Train screeched in a
surprisingly high-pitched voice. Sable opened one eye and stared at the
guy pumping her doggy-style as he threw his head back and, with alarming
quickness, she felt her snatch fill to the brim with spunk. It drooled
down her supple thighs and pooled at her feet; she stole a hand back there
and swiped a few fingers'-worth, gulping it down in the vain hope of some
form of arousal.

Nothing. She breathed deeply, mournfully, as Train slumped backward, his
rapidly-shrinking dick pulling free with ease with a dull plop. Sable waited
for a few moments, listening to the big man panting behind her, then rose
purposefully to her feet. She stood in front of the breathless superstar,
expertly cleaning her legs and feet of man-milk using just her hands and
tongue, pulling her toes to her mouth and sucking them clean in seconds. She
didn't even look at Albert once as, when done with her grooming routine, she
pulled on a pair of tight black PVC hot-pants, and casually slung a black
bra top over her gigantic, surgically-altered mammaries. Grabbing her kit-bag
from a nearby bench, she turned swiftly to the exit. Albert snorted behind
her.

"What the fuck is up with you?"

Sable sighed.

"I'm going to find somebody who can get the job done between my legs."

Albert's eyes widened with fury.

"Hey, fuck you! I'm a fuckin' stud!"

Sable smiled to herself then, with perfect timing, shot Albert a withering
look.

"Train, you're a fuckin' ZERO."

And with that, she pulled open the locker-room door and was gone.

* * *

Wandering her way into the darkened bowels of the building, Sable pulled a
sweater from her bag and pulled it around her shoulders. The arena was cold,
damn cold, and now that it was closed down after a matinee SmackDown show,
there'd be no-one around to satisfy. Fuck, she'd suck the cleaning guy's rod
'til it shrivelled up; if only she hadn't called in that "favour" with Vince
and had the place deserted for her session with Albert. And what a
disappointment! Usually six-feet-seven guys have much bigger shafts that your
everyday schmoe. She supposed there was nothing left to do other than find a
quiet spot and work some magic of her own; her nips could do with a suck
anyways. She tutted to herself, and rounded a corner.

The corridor ahead made her pause in her tracks; a frown stole across her
face. The long space itself was not illuminated, that was true, and there
was no sign of anybody; but, streaming out from what appeared to be a
keyhole, a burning light could clearly be identified in an adjacent room.
So the arena wasn't totally empty. Softening her footsteps to shield her
approach, the former Playboy Playmate crept along the corridor. When she
reached the door in question, her confusion diappeared; she could hear a
voice talking angrily, urgently, on the other side of the door, and that
voice was easily identifiable. Torrie Wilson had obviously decided to hang
around for reasons of her own. Sable mentally tutted once more; she wasn't
a dyke, and she was damn sure Torrie wasn't either. If only one of the male
superstars had stuck it out and stayed in the building. Still, she could use
the company. She raised her hand to rap lightly on the door, but something
made her stop.

Later on, she couldn't be sure of why she did what she did next; right
there and then, however, she was motivated by sheer, blind curiosity. Her
hand dropped back to her side and, with a furrowed brow, she sank to her
knees, pushing her eyes closer to the open keyhole. What was Torrie still
doing here after hours? Trying desperately to regulate her breathing so as
not to be discovered, she peered inside and listened in.

Torrie was striding back and forth impatiently in what appeared to be a
janitor's office, still clad in the purple vest-top/hot-pants combo that
she had worn for her earlier in-ring appearance. her hair was pulled into
a tight top-knot, leaving her full, feminine eyes and pouting lips exposed,
uncovered. Her breasts bounced perkily as she walked and talked; as she
turned heel and walked back across the room, Sable saw she was barking into
a celphone. She strained her ears, trying to pick up the gist of the rather
heated conversation.

"I don't give a fuck what fucking banker offered double, she was booked
for me! Jesus fucking Christ, Tony, do you know how long I've been looking
forward to this? I haven't been in New York in months, and now you're
telling me she's cancelling on me? I don't give a shit what other girls
you've got on offer, I don't want one of your skanky second-raters! She was
the best, and she was booked for me! Yeah? Well, FUCK YOU TOO!" With an
angry snarl, Sable's fellow Hugh Hefner alumnus pressed "disconnect" and
tossed the phone down in a nearby heap of clothes. She ran her slender
fingers through her straw blonde hair and leant against the wall, slamming
her palms against the plasterwork in frustration. Sable, fascinated, watched
on. Torrie began muttering under her breath.

"I guess I gotta take care of myself tonight." She had her back turned to
the wall, leant against it, her arms outstretched. Then, without turning
around, she straightened up, grasping the bottom of her sparkly vest and
tugging it off of her perfectly-formed titties. They fell free and, from
her vantage point behind the Diva, Sable could see their bountiful curves
peeking out from behind Torrie's back. She hated to admit it, but the
voyeuristic pleasure of watching an intensely attractive woman strip off
was beginning to turn her on. She had no idea what would come next.

Torrie's hands, finished with her upper half, smoothed down over her flat
belly, and she hooked her thumbs in the top of her hot-pants and began
sliding them down her booty. Sable suppressd a sigh as the magnificent
half-moons of Torrie's sizeable buttocks crept into view, perfectly toned
and tanned. She began willing the WWE's finest to turn around, so that she
could get a full, no-holds-barred view. Then, with one simple sound, she was
thrown into a circle of confusion. Torrie had reached down to her groin, she
could clearly see that, and pulled something free-what sounded like a strip
of masking tape. Sable frowned once again as Torrie sighed with relief, both
hands now hidden from sight in front of her. What the Hell was going on?
Maybe she should get up and knock-but then, without warning all of her
questions were answered. Torrie turned on the spot, a huge smile plastered
across her horny face, her now-freed tits glistening with sweat under the
light-and both hands clasped around one of the biggest penises Sable had
ever clapped eyes on. Torrie sank back aginst the wall, pulling at her
massive twelve-inch cock, stroking it's erect shaft with one hand whilst
playfully cupping her gigantic, furred balls with the other. Sable couldn't
believe her eyes. What about the Playboy shoot? She mentally ticked herself
off almost immediately-she herself knew the wonders of computers when it
came to doctoring photos. Her thoughts were swiftly dragged back to the
scene before her, however, preventing any more theorising. Torrie had slid
down the wall and was now sitting, her long, golden legs splayed, her
throbbing dick standing to attention, pointing up at her rosy, nippled-topped
mounds. Her left hand slid back up her stomach and went to work caressing her
breasts, tweaking at her nips, pulling them roughly as she went to work on
her trousersnake with her left. After a teasing few rubs-barely making
contact with her own skin-she began pumping away in herself in earnest,
panting bestially with each trip up and down her dick that her palm made. Her
heavy balls began slapping aginst her inner thighs and the base of her ass as
she jerked off; in between her rasping breaths she began talking to herself.

"Oh Christ, you're good, you are damn good-you don't need a man, you don't
need a woman, you can please yourself. God, this is the best fucking handjob
you could get and you don't even need anyone else-look at that cock, that's
yours, yours alone, oh fuck it's beautiful--"

Sable's breathing was now easily audible, but the 35-year-old skank didn't
care; the show she was getting was far, far too hot to waste worrying about
such trivial things. Torrie's left hand had abandoned her tits and returned
to her crotch once again, pulling viciously at her own pubic hair as she
drove herself closer and closer to orgasm.

"Oh fuck, oh FUCK here it comes here it comes here it comes--" And, with
one final, guttural roar of ecstasy, Torrie's huge member unloaded itself,
spraying up over her washboard stomach and coating her bronzed tits.
Half-panting, half-screeching, she pumped furiously with both hands as jet
after jet of semen streaked across her body, lashing up over her face and
sticking in her throat as she swallowed it hungrily, closing her eyes
against the spurts of jism as they rolled down from her forehead. Finally,
after what seemed like an eternity, her dick began to wilt in her hands,
it's fountain of goo shrinking until, eventually, it simply sent trickles
of juice down into her already-matted pubes. She breathed deeply, her eyes
closed, her entire body soaked with her own shemale spunk, satisfied...for
now.

Sable, for her part, rose to her feet after a few moments to collect her
thoughts. Her mind was racing with questions as she tore as quietly as she
could back up through the various levels of the arena; what had she just
seen? Where the Hell did Torrie get that cock from? She finally came to a
stop next to her sleek convertible, parked right outside the wrestlers'
entrance. With the wind breezing across the empty parking lot, she felt a
sudden chill on her legs. She looked down; her thighs and hot-pants were
shiny with pussy-juice and, now that she had stopped to breath, she felt a
full-on orgasm brewing deep inside her. She leant aginst her car and began
formulating a plan. Was it that wrong to be turned on by what she just seen?
She sure as Hell didn't think so. And, if she got the jist of it, was Torrie
now free for the night-and very fucking horny? From the sounds of it. Slowly,
a smile crept across her face. Maybe she would need to please herself tonight
after all....

* * *

Torrie smiled to herself as she read through the text message one more
time, the green screen of her phone shining luminously in the dim light of
downtown Brooklyn. "Room 121, Green Card Motel, 56th. I know your secret.
You can be my bitch tonight." An anonymous admirer! She had guessed that
Tony had simply sent out word to all the sluts about town that Torrie Wilson
had a free dance card that night, but still....what better way to get her
attention than with an unsigned message, tantalising her in the extreme and
re-affirming her faith in the pimps and prostitutes of New York.

She crossed the road, narrowly avoiding the spray of rainwater as a large
truck thundered by; the light purple bag-of-tricks she's acquired banged
lightly against her thigh. There were several guys dotted along the street,
she noticed; she felt their eyes clinging to her body as she strode along
the sidewalk. She couldn't help but grin to herself; she imagined that most
of the silent gazers would puke in their laps had they the slightest inkling
of what swung between her legs. Still, she could hardly blame them for
catching a sly eyeful; she was dressed in the most provocative way she could
muster. Black, knee-high plastic boots clung to her calfs sweatily, covering
the majority of the lengths of red fishnet stocking that ran down her legs.
They, in turn, disappeared up toward her groin, flowing up and under the
smallest, tightest leather miniskirt she could lay her hands on. Her large,
curvaceous ass ached slightly from the confines of it, and her cock stung
even more, but that was a small matter. Her torso, meanwhile, was clothed in
nothing but a red bra top, pushing her ludicrously swollen, silicon-pumped
chest damn near up to her throat. A teeny-bopper leather jacket was pulled
as snugly as possible about them, one button done precariously just below
her heaving tits. She had pulled her platinum-blond hair into a top-knot for
the occasion, and her normaly natural beauty was swathed with oodles of
skanky make-up. She looked just the part, a total two-bit hooker-with a big
surprise lurking beneath her panties. And that wasn't the only surprise she
was hoping to pull tonight...

She reached the Green Card Motel suddenly, turning a corner and coming
straight to a large, cracked neon sign. The door swung open and shut on it's
hinges; it was the definition of a dive. Somehow that made her feel even
hotter. She traversed the small flight of stairs leading to the entrance and
swept inside.

The dingy foyer housed a fetid smell, a heady combination of booze, body
odor and sex; Torrie simply gazed around quietly, absorbing her surroundings.
The room was deserted but for two other life-forms; the inebriated owner was
slumped behind his desk, dead drunk and half-asleep, while a large, dopey
Doberman snored next to the table. The overhead lights flickered fitfully.
She breathed in the atmospher, giving the manager a few seconds to wake up
and greet her; when he didn't even stir, she crossed the room, half-jogging
her way up the straicase to the first floor.

* * *

"Hello?" She knocked lightly again, trying to keep hr voice as innocent and
friendly as possible. The rusty brass number plater hung from room 121's door
crazily; she fixed her gaze on it, listening for sounds of movement within.
Nothing. She rapped her knuckles against the wood one more time.

"Hello?!"

A pause. Then...

"You can come in. Stay at the door, close it behind you." A female voice,
then. That calmed her heart. She had feared some crazed horny geekboy fan,
or an ex-boyfriend pissed at her rather significant anatomical quirk. She
eased the door open and sidled into the darkened room; letting the door
click shut behind her; the double bed, freshly-made, sat just to her right.
She dropped the bag quietly next to it, and moved no further.

A tall, slim female figure stood on the far side of the room, shrouded in
shadow, her curvy body and large breasts just distinguishable through the
gloom. Torrie squinted a little, then stopped herself; better to let her
mystery whore play into her hands than forcing the issue. Silence reigned
over room 121. Then, finaly, the figure spoke. The high, tremulous voice was
obviously disguised; even so, Torrie sensed a slight recognition about it.

"So you decided to come. I'm glad. I think we both will be." Silence again.
Torrie ventured a comment, not straying from her butter-wouldn't-melt
persona.

"I-I really hope so, ma'am."

"Good. I see you brought some things. I'm sure I'll find them useful when
I'm toying with you. I'm in charge here, remember."

"Of-of course, ma'am," Torrie fake-stammered, secretly angry at the
presumptuousness of this strange, slinky woman.

"I'm glad that's cleared up. Now...." Torrie saw the outlined girl sit
daintily down in a chair next to her. "Strip for me. Where you stand."

Torrie nodded meekly, biting her bottom lip and running her hands shakily
down the length of her body. She rested them on her toes then, in one sharp
movement, whipped her head up, tossing her gorgeous hair and raising her
fingers back up to her chest. She smiled coyly in the direction of her
one-woman audience, pulled gently at the barely-fastened button of her
jacket. It came free easily; she shook her hips rhythmically as she let the
leather coat slip to the floor noisily. She paused a little, her palms
resting across her silk-clad breasts, her eyes closed, sighing to herself,
feeling her dick stiffen between her thighs. She was naturally dominant, but
even when forced into the submissive role stripping never failed to turn her
on.

"Continue. Now." The icy voice of her watcher broke her self-induced trance;
she nodded again and, turning on her heel to face the door, put her hands up
to the back clasp of her bra. She tugged it loose easily, letting it's straps
glide down her upper arms, her back turned to the woman behind her. She shot
a cheeky smile over her shoulder and whirled back around, discarding the
piece of underwear, letting her gigantic tits hang freely from her frame. She
heard a short gasp, caught quickly in the throat, from the shady slut
examining her; she winked into the inkiness and cupped her boobs, squeezing
them and twisting her own sizeable nipples, pulling them to her lips and
biting them roughly. Then, flinging her hands away from her chest, she turned
her attention to her skirt, crouching down as she slipped her thumbs into the
waistband of the insanely short garment. She breathed in soundlessly, feeling
the harsh, sweaty material slide over her thong-clad ass as she pulled it
down, letting it rest at her knees as she crouched, panting. She rose to her
full height again suddenly, kicking the skirt off of her legs in carefree
fashion, sending it flying into the lap of the once-again-silent viewer.
Torrie paused one more time, hands on hips, her thong twisted and stretched;
her large, hairy balls hung to one side, whilst the entire, erect,
twelve-inch length of her prick strained frustratedly against the crotch of
the panties. Her calfs were soaked with pre-cum. She stared expectantly into
the dimness in front of her; when no command as forthcoming, she returned her
grasp to her hips, tweaking at the bands of elastic running around her waist.
That high-pitched voice cut her off once again.

"No. Leave them on." Torrie nodded in agreement. The voice continued,
barely-suppressed excitement pulsing beneath every word. "Lie down on the
bed for me. And close those pretty eyes of yours."

The Shemale Playmate smiled, coating it with mock-nervousness, and sat
timidly down on the edge of the bed. Swinging her boots-covered legs up
onto the mattress she laid back, resting her head on the stained pillow and
clamping her eyes shut. Her nips stood to attention upon her chest; her cock
ached for satisfaction at her groin. Without warning she felt the shadow of
her secret lover fall over her; soft, supple skin touched her legs as the
unknown woman straddled her quietly. Two long-fingered hands closed over her
tits, squeezing them lightly. Her eyes still closed, Torrie grinned wickedly;
her left hand, balled into a fist, flew up from her side, catching the
admirer on the jaw. She felt the girl's PVC-clad body crumple into
unconsciousness on top of her; without opening her eyes, she shoved the dead
weight roughly to the floor. She lay there peacefully for a beat, eyes still
clamped shut, smiling beatifically; after a moment of collecting her thoughts
she sat up, opening her eyes and glancing down at the floor.

Sable lay there, out cold, a nasty red welt rising on her chin, her long
blond ponytail curled crazily about her head. Her standard PVC singlet
clung to her body; she was barefoot. Torrie looked down at her fellow Diva,
confusion clouded her mind-tha certainly cleared quickly. She grinned,
viciousness and bad intentions alive in her face. This was even better than
she'd hoped for.

* * *

"Wake up, little princess". Sable stirred groggily, the angelic voice cutting
through the mental fog crowding her mind; she tried to stand but couldn't.
Her arms were caught on something, and her wrists were fucking killing her;
her jaw throbbed dully. She opened her eyes and damn near shut them again,
the bare brilliance of the motel-room light momentarily blinding her. She
tried to stand again; the handcuffs binding her arms behind her back,
trapping her against the wall-pipes put a stop to that. Where was she? She
went to cry out for help. No such luck. For the first time she felt the
abnormal pain in her mouth; she tried to look down at her own face, before
realising what was wrong. She'd applied the device many times before, but
never experienced it herself-her mouth was stuffed with a large ball-gag,
strapped tightly around the back of her head. Her chest was sore, too; that
she could look at. She craned her neck downward, and saw that her titties
were bound with thin leather straps. One cord hung between them, connecting
the circles of material. Whatever the apparatus was, she was sure she'd find
out.

"We're all victims, right?" That voice again; she looked up sharply, and her
heart leapt even as her naked cunt slickened. Torrie stood before her, her
shemale dick standing proudly, ready for action; her tits heaved up and down
as the glorious former fitness model glared down at her. She'd removed her
top-knot and pulled her hair into two loose pigtails; the fishnet stockings
and thight-high boots remained. She spoke again. "Us shemales, we're all
victims, right? We're just timid freaks, scared of our own bodies, to be
used by perverts and sluts for kicks. That's just about your opinion on us,
correct?" Sable just stared up at her tormentor; agog. "ANSWER ME!" Torrie
barked, her voice sveral octaves deeper than the one usually heard on
Thursday nights. Sable nodded sheepsihly, hesitantly. That seemed to satisfy
Torrie. She began to pace slowly in front of her quarry, her pecker bouncing
back and forth with each step.

"I thought as much." She glanced sideways at her quarry a glint in her eye.
"And you thought you'd just twist me and exploit me to get your own kicks,
right?" Sable nodded slowly once again, the movement of her head restricted
by the awkward position of her body.

Torrie laughed, a cold, high sound, throwing her head back in amusement.
"Well ain't that sweet? Li'l ol' Sable's got the horn going on and she needs
some relief." The dominant shemale moved suddenly, crossing the room and
ducking down, thrusting her beautiful face into Sable's. "Sadly for you," she
hissed, "you're not the only one with a case of frustration tonight. See, my
regular toy went and cancelled on me, which leaves me...with a bit of a
dilemma. But don't worry. I can see..." She backed off, casting an appraising
eye over Sable's totally naked body, smirking to herself. "...that there's
plenty of fun we can have together." With that, she turned on her heel,
striding confidantly over to the bed, delving into the bad she'd left there
earlier. Sable tried desperately to catch a glimpse of the dickgirl's
actions; all there was to look at, however, was the Playboy Playmate's
glorious unclothed buttocks, splitting slightly as she bent down to reveal
her tight little' butthole. Her balls were visible too, peeking out from
between her slightly-spread legs. Sable repressed a shiver of excitment, and
felt a trickle of pussy-juice run down her prone thigh.

"Aha! here we are!" Torrie yelled in triumph, snapping upright and whirling
around, her hand in the air in victory. Sable's eyes widened; clutched
between her mistress' slender fingers was thick ten-inch strap-on phallus,
it's leather ties dangling limply from Torrie's hand; sizeable it was, but
still a couple of inches shorter than the real deal that jutted so
appetisingly from Torrie's groin.

Torrie paced up and down, eyes fixed on Sable, tapping the head of her dildo
thoughtfully against her chin as she talked. "Now who here could possible
need to make use of my little friend here? Let me think....you? Certainly
not, hun-those holes of yours are going to be stretched by bigger things
than this teeny bit of plastic here. Guess that leaves me, right?" She
grinned wickedly. "Well, if you insist..." She turned again, lowering the
jet-black strap-on to the base of her spine, rubbing it teasingly against
the top of her butt-cheeks. "You ready for a show, sweetie?" She glanced
over her shoulder at the cuffed slut. Sable nodded vigorously. "Okay...here
we go."

Squatting down haltingly, Torrie lowered the dildo to floor height, flexing
her ass muscles as she did so. She steadied herself with one hand, the other
gripping the base of the faux-penis as it edged closer to her exposed
pucker. She gasped theatrically as it's cool rubber end made contact with
brown eye, swivelling her head and glancing at Sable with exaggerated
delight. "It's so cold, baby, so cold..." And, with a sudden jerky movement,
she pressed downward. The mushroom tip of the dong pushed effortlessly into
her shit-shoot, splitting her ass-cheeks, leaving nine inches dangling
crazily from her clenched butt. She squealed with pleasure. "Ooooh, this
feels soooo good honey, you just wish it was you, I'm sure..." She pushed
down another two inches, keeping her grip on the dildo strong, squatting
down in the most unladylike position imaginable. "Unnnh God, I've missed
doing this," She mouthed matter-of-factly, slamming another four inches up
into her bowels. "You know, I had to let all the guys in high school fuck my
ass. You can imagine what it was like when they finally found my little guy
down there-never had a guy for more than a month. This look good to you,
sweetheart?" Sable nodded once again, her eyes fiery with desire, clinging
to the sight of the black shaft protruding ever-so-slightly from Torrie's
ravaged shitter. Torrie smiled. "Good." And with that she began rocking back
and forth on her heels, stimulating the stump of the dildo with tugs and
pulls of her free hand as she tore her own asshole in every was she could.
"Ohhh Jesus this is good-OOOOH GOD baby I wish you could feel this, it's
ripping me up inside-ooh God-ohhhh God-I'm gonna crap myself I gotta-" She
yanked the phallus free in one vicious movement, emitting a squelching sound
from her suddenly-vacated anus as she did so. She breathed deep, rising back
to her full height. "Phew. Well THAT was narowly avoided." She sniffed
half-heartedly at the shiny rubber shaft in her hand, and recoiled in fake
horror. "Wow, this needs a clean." Sable just blinked, trying to fathom
what her new owner had in mind. Torrie smirked again, this mix of cruelty,
pleasure and admiration, her eyes fixed on Sable's surgery-tightened
features. She reached down casually, unbuckling the strap of the massive
ball-gag jammed between the blonde's lips, letting fall into the handcuffed
skank's lap. Sable coughed and spluttered, drawing in as much air as
possible, tears springing to her eyes. "Thank you, I--" No other words had a
chance to leave her mouth; Torrie rammed the stinky dildo into her slave's
mouth, forcing it forward inch by inch. Sable adjusted to the situation
immediately, switching into her second slutty nature, deep-throating the
dirty piece of plastic as it's length slid down her gullet, sucking it
heartily and savouring the heady taste of Torrie's insides.

"That's it, you nasty little whore, take it all, take it for me...." Torrie
murmured that evil grin permanently plastered on her face, her eyes shining
as the last inch of rubber disappeared between Sable's painted lips. Sable
continnued to suck greedily, cleansing the shaft in her mouth running her
tongue along it's riibbed length and slurping noisily. Torrie pressed her
palm against the base of the toy, holding it in place. "You like that, huh?
Like the taste of my shit?" Sable nodded happily, wearing her best seductive
face. "Well that's good for you--" With alarmign speed Torrie's hand shot
round the back of Sable's head, tying the strap-on's belt insanely tight,
trapping it in Sable's oesophagus. "--because it's staying there." Sable's
expression turned to one of blind panic as she renewed her strainings
against her metal bonds; she's sucked bigger dicks before, but never had one
held down her throat, involuntarily, unwillingly. Torrie stood back and
admired her handiwork happily, legs spread, hands on hips. A droplet of
precum oozed from her rock-hard rod.

"There. That should stop you screeching in that horrible voice of yours. Now
the real fun starts..." She moved forward once more, her dick sticking out
at Sable's face, taunting her with it's scent. Placing her hands against the
wall Sable shook her hips gently, rubbing her gigantic prick in Sable's
half-covered face, smearing her make-up with the generous amounts of precum
leaking from her cock-head. She increased her motion, slapping Sable about
the cheeks and nose, thrusting back and forward, leaving streaks of fluid in
her neatly-tied hair. Then, as quickly as the assault had begun, it ended;
shimmying slowly to her knees, Torrie slid her dick down the length of
Sable's torso, over her tightly tied titties, resting just above her dripping
snatch. Her face was inches from that of her prey's, covered in preparatory
spunk. With one hand she grabbed the the string of leather dangling between
the diva's bound boobs. "This might sting a little..." She mocked-and yanked
the cord hard, pulling the rings of material tighter around her fuck-slut's
chest. Sable's back arched with the pain and pleasure of it, slamming upward
against her master's body, her reddened mammaries throbbing, her nips swollen
to breaking point. Her legs thrashed about between Torrie's muscular calfs,
decorating the shemale's lower ass with her cunt liquid. Torrie smiled.
"That's good, huh?" Sable nodded madly, banging her her crotch up against
Torrie's asshole, begging her to go on. Torrie looked down at the action,
turning back and staring at her bound bitch disbelievingly.

"OH, you can't be serious. You didn't-you don't really think I'd stick my
pride and joy in that diseased pit you call a pussy, do you?" She threw her
head back and cackled again, grabbing and squeezing Sable's ultra-sensitive
tits as she did so, sending the ho into spasms of delight. "NO fucking way.
You think I want my cock to rot off? I wouldn't touch that with my dog's
dick. Actually...that'd be fucking hot. I take that back." She read the
horror in Sable's eyes and couldn't help but giggle. "Oh don't worry, you
silly little bitch, I haven't brought my dog along. I'm sure we can find
time for that another day. No, today I think I can just make do with this..."
She ran a hand down Sable's side, pausing briefly at her breasts and giving
her right nipple a brutal twist, before stopping at the nympho's
perfectly-formed butt. Torrie nodded slowly as Sable realised what was coming
to her.

"Oh yes, babycakes, that's right..." The well-hung hottie lifted Sable's
suppled legs high into the air, pulling her ass up and out into an
easily-accessible position and taking a foot over each shoulder. Sable's
slick box drooled girl-goo, pressed against the horny dominatrix's smooth
belly; Torrie pulled back slightly, readying her huge shaft at the entrance
to Sable's rectum and placing her hands on the former Women's Champion's
blushing breasts for support. "OH, is this going to be fun--" And with that
she thrust forward, ploughing her entire twelve inches of man-meat into
Sable's restricted butthole, tearing her ring in the process and causing a
muffled scream of anguish to bubble in the gagged skank's filled throat.
Torrie leant back, her eyes closed, her face a mask of ecstasy as her
powerful member was squeezed and caressed by Sable's incredibly tight ass.
Her balls rested lightly against Sable's lower back as she held herself
there for a few seconds, listening to her fuck-toy's broken, breathless
panting as it escaped from behind it's cock-shaped block. After a heartbeat
she opened her eyes and stared down at the prone whore, giving her nips a
playful tug.

"Don't you ever indulge in anal, sweetcheeks? This is tightest fucking ass
I've ever FELT-oooh GOD!" She squealed as Sable contracted her butt-muscles,
gripping as closely as possible to the rod buried in them, milking them as
precum ran into her innards. The blatant advance provoked Torrie into action,
pulling her hips back and slamming forward once more, her heavy balls
smacking into Sable's back with a sweaty slapping noise. She began pumping
in a quick one-two rythmn, pistoning in and out of Sable's bowels, yanking
and spanking on her titties as she did so. Sable just moaned and groaned as
loudly as she could with ten inches of rubber invading her mouth, wrapping
her legs around Torrie's upper torso to get as good a grip as she could on
the hardbodied freak fucking her. Her left foot flitted across Torrie's face;
quick as a cat, the genitallly-warped goddess siezed it, never wavering in
her pound-fucking of the bubble-butt before her.

"This is one pretty foot, you know that? Oh yeah, it's just--" She leant
forward, sucking Sable's big toe, running her tongue between each digit,
loving the sweaty flavour of the diva's foot as she slurped at it. Sable,
enjoying her footbath every bit as much as her ass-stretching, pushed her
limb forward, forcing all five toes abruptly between the beauty's teeth,
foot-fisting her face. Torrie sucked on them hungrily, worshipping their
taste, pleasuring what she knew to be every woman's secret G-spot. Sable
just stared up the sight, her head banging against the wall with each drive
of Torrie's monster cock; she didn't see Torrie's free hand snake down to
her exposed and unused cunt. She gasped as Torrie's middle finger penetrated
her "diseased pit", slipping inside her and jerking back and forth as her
other hole was torn up and her toes were satisfied. Soon enough a second
finger joined the party, and a third. Torrie spat out Sable's soaked toes
and smiled down at the violated diva as she added a fourth digit, burying
them knuckle-deep in Sable's box. The bound and gagged slag's breasts
bounced with every anal thrust of Torrie's shemale member as he/she completed
the package, worming her thumb in knuckle deep.

"I told you your holes would get bigger than that li'l ol' toy, hun." She
drove forward with both dick and hand, digging deep with both; all twelve
inches lay tightly enclosed in Sable's ravaged ass, whilst her grotesquely
distended pussy housed Torrie's entire fist, cut off at the wrist. Torrie
twisted her head to the side and garnered another mouthful of toes, chewing
on them viciously as she slowed the in-out pace of her locomotion
cock-thrusts. She locked eyes on her prey, a devilish gleam flickering in
them. Sable read the meaning well-this was the calm before the storm, and
all Hell was about to break loose. She nodded slowly and shut her eyes-and
Torrie drove forward with a strength and speed that Sable had never
experienced in her wildest dreams. She felt the outer musculature of her
asshole rended in two, sending bolts of agony shooting up her spine even as
Torrie's arm burrowed forward, breaking through the inner wall of her vagina.
Her cunt sucked at the limb involuntarily, pulling it deeper, drawing it in
up to her freak lover's elbow; she began choking on the thick, bitter length
of rubber that resided in her mouth as the most powerful multiple orgasms she
could ever concieve began ripping through her body in waves. Every sensation
was heightened as spurts of love juices sprayed from around Torrie's forearm;
Sable felt every hair on her body stand on end, every delicate burst of air
as it played over her skin, every vein, every capillary in Torrie's monster
shaft throbbing in her obscenely stretched shit locker, every miniscule
tweaking of her clit as Torrie's right arm rummaged in her cooch, every
stroke of Torrie's tongue as it roamed over her toes and dug under her nails.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost all control of her body, bucking
and thriving wildly, insanely, humping back and forth upon Torrie's two
invading appendages, thrashing to and fro as her muscles turned to jelly.

Torrie just knelt there, a self-satisfied, shit-eating grin plastered across
her gorgeous features, watching as her newest slave slowly came down from
the most earth-shattering high she'd ever felt. Finally Sable's eyes
flickered open, her body shuddering, appearing absurdly like a junkie
awaiting another fix. Torrie blew a kiss to her then, in one careless, brutal
movement, pulled out of the spent slut's body, yanking her arm and cock free
with a loud, gurgling slurp. Her forearm dripped with Sable's delicious
fluid, shining dully under the harsh motel room lightbulb; her enormous rod,
still loaded to bursting point with a salvo of spunk, was streaked with the
dark left-overs of Sable's butt. She licked at her fingers absent-mindedly,
her back to Sable, her other hand running it's index finger up and down her
unsatisfied weapon; a dark smile hinted at the corners of her lips. She
wheeled around and fumbled at the back of the shaking Sable's head, pulling
the tightly-knotted strap-on loose then standing back. The length of plastic
slid from Sable's jaws like a sanke, leaving thick trails of saliva running
down the cuffed bitch's chin. She coughed and spluttered; when she spoke, her
voice quivered.

"I...I think I love y-" For the second time that night the ho was cut short
in mid-sentence; Torrie had bounded forward, popping the first six inches of
her stinky dick into Sable's well-prepared trap. She barely stopped to catch
her breath, quickly sliding the remaining six inches of man-meat into place,
feeling Sable's tongue dance over her cockhead as it rode past, heading
deeper down her throat. She seized Sable's blonde tresses with both hands
and, just as purposefully as she had early thrust into the same woman's
shithole, began slamming forward with excessive force.

"I-am-not-fucking-finished-yet-you-little-skank" She muttered breathlessy,
punctuating each word with another withdraw/slam. Sable smiled as best she
could around the massive intruder parting her lips, revelling in the sour
taste of her own ass as it mingled with Torrie's man-scent. This was where
she could take control. She began slapping her togue against the pulsating
shaft, bobbing her head back and forward as she did so, increasing the speed
and motion of the face-fuck. Torrie felt her knees go weak and her nutsack
tighten within seconds as the finest blow-job of her life sucked her into
submission; her cock spewed forth with a geyser of goo, splattering down the
walls of Sable's throat, filling her mouth instantaneously, leaking out and
spilling down over the bound blonde's beet-red breasts. She pulled her prick
free and sent rope after rope of creamy semen shooting over both her and
Sable's bodies, putting her hands to her lips and drinking her own spunk
whenever she could. After what seemed like an eternity the supply began to
run dry, her cock slowly wilting as it drained it's last dregs of cum onto
the bronzed babe beneath her. She panted sporadically, leaning against the
wall that Sable was lashed to, head down, eyes closed. Sable stayed silent,
gulping down the last traces of man-milk. At last Torrie spoke.

"I gotta take a piss." She did not move. Sable looked up at her
expectantly-and the flaccid, eight-inch dick above her head gushed suddenly
with strong yellow liquid, splashing down over the well-fucked vixen's face
and hair. She squirmed, startled, catching Torrie grinning above her.
Something about that sight got her motor running again; she opened her mouth
and accepted the golden gift, drinking thirstily, loving it's acidic flavour,
tingling as it stung her skin and ran rivulets through the quickly-drying cum
that streaked her cheeks.

The flow of piss stopped abruptly; Torrie shook the last few droplets onto
Sable's extended, waiting tongue then turned away. Sable watched her slink
across the room, marvelling at her combination of curves and cock. She
smiled dreamily, feeling her cunt begin to itch again as Torrie slipped her
discarded clothes back on...packed up her toys....headed for the door...

"HEY! Where are you going?! What are you doing?"

Torrie turned back, slapping her forehead with mock stupidity. "Sorry.
Totally forgot." She fished in her pocket, procurring a small key and bent
down next the smelly, skin-soaked diva. Sable closed her eyes and breathed
deep as she felt Torrie's fingers fumble and the handcuffs.

"There ya go." Torrie strode quickly across the room. Sable smiled and went
to follow-but was yanked back down. She grasped her shoulder in pain-her
right hand remained handcuffed to the pipes. Torrie just ignored her, delving
into her bag for some unknown item. Her hand emerged clutching a bag of
Twinkies. She tossed them to the imprisoned Sable, flashing that cruel smirk
for the final time that evening. "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't go anywhere,
lover. Oh, and get some rest. I've got some big plans for the morning."

And with that, she was gone. Sable leant back, smelling the mixture of cum
and urine that clung to her skin, rubbing at the irritated wrist that had
just been freed. In spite of her situation, she smiled to herself. Nothing
could get better than that night...other than, perhaps, tomorrow.