Yeah, yeah, I haven't published Penultimate Hustle yet. Sorry. Working on it now. In the meantime, here's the first part of the sequel.
Chris Turner checked his watch a final time and opened the motel room door. There she was. Right on time. Blonde. Petite. High heels. He put his hand over her mouth and dragged her inside with an absence of effort that comes with years of practice.
He closed the door behind them and rolled her to the end of his arm like Gene Kelly, releasing the hold he had on her mouth. He looked her up and down, nodding approvingly to himself. Janique knew how to pick them, that was for sure.
"Mister, I'm only sevent-" was all she had time to say before Chris popped a ping-pong ball in her mouth and covered it with a strip of duct tape. Janique's latest kick was a series with household objects as sex toys. People didn't need expensive bondage gear, she said. It was all around the house.
He considered removing the tape and lecturing her on current federal statutes pertaining to the adult film industry and decided he'd talk to her afterward and let them fix it in the edit. Right now, he wanted to unwrap this latest bundle.
The thin white blouse tore right off, revealing a white silken bra and pert B-cup breasts. Chris regretted that Janique wasn't there to enjoy this with him. He spun the girl around roughly and pushed her toward the bed, forcing her to face away from him and brace herself with her arms.
He pulled down the brass zipper of her skirt with one hand, and pulled the skirt off with the other, leaving it bunched around her ankles. Chris then turned her to face him and saw a look of genuine fear in the girl's eyes.
Nice. It was one of the many details of Janique's work that he appreciated. Whenever possible, she demanded acting skills, and went to far as to teach classes on the art. She had several worthy understudies, but so far, none could match Janique's ability to appear terrified during a scene, much less that magical animal quality she exhibited when she got deep into her role.
Chris produced a wad of old clothesline from the dresser and considered his options. The girl had a real damsel-in-distress quality about her that begged for a classic pose. He folded her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together, then bound her upper arms tightly. He began to get excited by her obvious discomfort.
When he turned her around on the bed to tie her legs, he caught a glimpse of her obviously unshaven pubic hair through her, naturally, plain white panties. That was also a refreshing new twist from Janique. Most of the Ultimate Hustle girls favored Brazilian waxes.
In this poor girl's case, it increased her desirability. Chris bent her legs at the knees and tied them individually, doing his best to imitate the style Janique liked, with wide bands of tightly constricting rope. It took longer than it should have due to her thrashing about and resisting him, once getting him so aggravated he slapped her across the face. After that, she acquiesced, moving her legs or shifting her body weight to accommodate his demands.
When she was at last utterly helpless to move, Chris began kissing her inner thighs. Soon he had his mouth on her panties, kissing her there, rubbing his mouth against her. The girl's body responded of its own accord, and she began to thrust forward toward him as best she could.
His tongue began to work its way under the edges of her panties. Soon, he was sucking on her pussy from the sides, pulling her lips beyond the confines of her underwear. He made a commendable effort, considering he had yet to use his hands. Chris had just made first tentative contact with her clit when he decided to rip her panties off.
He rolled her onto her side and the sight of her quivering ass and snatch became too much to bear. Chris dropped his pants and climbed onto the bed behind her. He leaned over to kiss her face and neck, and she arched her back to him and moaned. The touch of his lips to her neck appeared to drive her wild. Just as he prepared to enter her for the first time, he stopped.
She didn't have an Ultimate Hustle tattoo.
In a panic, Chris pulled the strip of tape from her mouth. She stared at him for a moment and then spit the ping-pong ball at him.
"Who are you?" he said.
"Who are you?" she replied.
"I think I made a mistake."
"Well, don't stop now."
Chris eyed her intently.
"What? I'm on vacation."
"How old are you? Wait, don't tell me. I don't like grape."
At their request, Brad had designed a circuit that sat between the cameras and recorders and listened for Janique's unused safe word. Upon recognition, it killed all recording.
Despite his worry, he never lost his erection. At that point, Chis realized he'd have to go through with it. The girl who lay before him helplessly bound was now dominating him, instead. If it wasn't for Janique, he doubted that he would have adjusted to the BDSM lifestyle. The balance of power shifted so fast at times, it was like having sex on a see-saw. Which, thinking about it, they had never done before.
"Hurry," she said. "My parents will be looking for me."
Resigned to his fate, Chris crawled back onto the bed over her.
"I can't wait to tell my friends I was raped by Chris Turner."
Outside on the balcony, an upstart Ultimate Hustle actress from the Ukraine named Milla dialed Janique.
"He's not here," she said.