Motel 7 · Part 2 (2/2)
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Indra turned around and noticed the PC monitor, which was just showing the closing scene of the movie- Slave Martin was locked in a pillory which restrained his ankles in a matching pair of stocks, his aching cock swaying in the air as he watched
Mistress Yolanda being royally fucked by Mistress Victoria’s oversized strap-on dildo. Yes, Indra was right- this guy wanted to play bondage and submission games all by himself. Well, she was just the help this guy needed.
Indra looked at the clipboard in her cart… 234, 236, 238… Al Kowalski. She stepped to the bed and sat beside him, idly playing with his nipples. “Well, Al, now that we’re on a first-name basis, why don’t we get to know each other?” Al looked at her quizzically.
“”Yes, Al, I’m Mistress Indra… I moonlight as a maid but I’m really the cruel
Mistress you’ve met in your dreams. Or maybe your nightmares.” As Al looked on helplessly (he of course had absolutely no choice in the matter), Mistress
Indra lifted her arms to the back of her neck and unfastened something at the back of her Motel 7 maid’s uniform.
Al looked at her as she pulled the dress up, revealing the tops of her stockings, then long black garters, then skimpy black Rio-cut panties, the black garter belt, a slim tanned stomach, and then a lacy black bra filled to overflowing with Mistress
Indra’s breasts. Mistress Indra wasn’t exceptionally busty, but American bras are all underwired, it seems, and Indra liked to be pretty, even if it only she looked at herself in her underwear.
Mistress
Indra tossed the uniform shift onto her cart and stood at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips, her feet boldly spread. Mistress Indra wasn’t nearly as bold as she looked to Al- all she knew was what she’d been told by some of the girls and what she’d seen in a few dirty magazines she’d found while cleaning up after horny couples. But she looked at Al and saw the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes- lust for her! Mistress Indra really had little experience with men lusting for her- most guys looked right through her- but this one seemed different.
She examined the key ring conspicuously hanging in the air to one side of the bed (Al loved to see his freedom so near and yet so far) and then stepped into the bathroom to study the apparatus. Quickly seeing what was supposed to happen, she stepped back out and watched the guy watching her as she took the keys in her hand and broke the string. (Years of maid service had given her strength.) Al realized that he was now helpless before Mistress Indra; escape was impossible unless she allowed it, and that didn’t seem likely. Al’s heart sank, but his cock didn’t.
Mistress Indra stepped to the open suitcase and poked around in the collection of toys she found there- more handcuffs, straps, dildos, lengths of chain, vibrators, and other stuff she wasn’t sure about. Ahhh… more condoms! She picked one up and read “Ribbed for her pleasure”. With a smile- she recognized the advertising slogan- she ripped open the package and carefully rolled number 3 down over Al’s throbbing cock.
“Ah… you like that, don’t you? You like Indra’s touch?” Al soundlessly shouted
‘yes’, and Mistress Indra decided that if some was good, more ought to be even better, and she promptly enshrouded Al’s cock in another layer of ribbed latex. Mistress Indra also knew that a condom, and especially several, would lessen any sensations Al might feel. And a Dominatrix was supposed to minimize his sensations, delay his climax…
She had heard about barbaric things Pakistani men did to women to destroy their ability to have an orgasm, thus increasing their ability to satisfy their partners.
(Research ‘clitorectomy’ if you doubt this!) Indra had fortunately escaped such barbarities and had experienced several orgasms, but at any rate some
American men seemed fascinated by the forced delay of their own orgasms.
Mistress
Indra knelt on the bed and played with his nipples for a while. She hadn’t been with a man for quite some time, and she loved playing with his body.
Something about his inability to either resist or respond caused a tingling deep inside her- a moist tingling.
Mistress
Indra slipped off the bed and thought for a moment about getting naked and using the guy. No, the girls in the magazines all wore sexy underwear, and they seemed to always make love in it too. She turned her back on Al, bent slightly, and slipped her panties down.
She looked back and saw Al’s eyes bugging out as she lowered her panties slowly. She had been told that she had a nice butt, but her cultural modesty had always kept her from really appreciating it- until now. She wiggled a little and saw how the man’s entire body strained at his bonds- especially his organ, which looked like it was made of iron.
Mistress
Indra returned to the bed and reached out to stroke Al’s cock- yes, it felt as hard as iron, and just about as heavy. What to do next?
She did what seemed reasonable given the circumstances- she straddled his legs and then squirmed her way up over his hips. Al’s hands, cuffed together close to his chest, strained up toward her. She smiled and reached up to her breasts while Al stared, pulling her boobs up out of her bra until they rested on the shelf of the bra. She tweaked her nipples, already erect and hard.
For a moment, she bent over and let Al get his hands on them. He pressed her nipples between his fingers and went mad with the feeling of her soft, warm flesh. She rubbed her breasts over his face and his gagged mouth, smiling at his efforts to get his closed mouth over her nipples.
Mistress
Indra pulled back and away from him. “Shame, shame… naughty man! You are going to be used, not use me.” She slapped him gently on the side of his gagged face.
Mistress
Indra reached back between her nylon-covered thighs and found his organ- his cock. She held it still as she wiggled her hips and positioned herself over its tip. It had been so long since she’d had a man, and now she had one at her service!
She lowered herself onto his throbbing erection, savoring the moment of penetration by his hot meat. Then her biology took over and she began a gentle stroking, fucking herself slowly, stoking her fires of lust.
For what seemed like hours Mistress Indra took her pleasure as the ‘ribs of pleasure’ stroked her sensitive flesh. She looked down into Al’s eyes, which alternately closed with the delightful sensations she was inflicting on him and opened to stare into the dark eyes of his Mistress Indra.
Finally
Mistress Indra felt the unmistakable twinges of an orgasm approaching- an orgasm which had been so long in coming she had almost forgotten it. Her body told her what to do: she reached for her nipples with both hands and pumped her hips up and down, driving the captive meat deep into her. Her orgasm exploded in her belly, and she held still while she clamped down on the intruder, wiggling slightly as she Experienced the delight.
Finally she relaxed, the spasms ended, and let go of her nipples, which she knew would be sore for half an hour- she’d gotten a little carried away! She moved up, feeling Al’s hot, rigid and unfulfilled cock slide out of her, leaving her with an ‘empty’ feeling. She stepped off the bed and reached over for Al’s cock. “Awww… you didn’t come, did you, Sir? Gee, that’s too bad. Maybe later!”
Mistress
Indra picked up her panties and watched Al’s face as she pulled them up over her ‘treasure chest’. Then she rearranged her bra, pulled her uniform shift back on, and patted Al gently on the side of his sweating, frustrated face.
Without a word, she left and locked the door behind her. Al stared with wide eyes at the blank surface of the door.
Part Three
Al stared at the door, then at the blank monitor, then at the door, for what seemed like hours but really was only thirty minutes. Finally he heard a key in the door and
Mistress Indra entered with another maid. “Hello, Mister Al! Meet my friend
Frieda.” The other maid stepped forward, looked at him, and broke into giggles.
Frieda wore the same maid’s uniform as Mistress Indra, except larger. She was by appearance and accent Mexican*, maybe forty, a couple of inches taller than
Mistress Indra, and several pounds heavier. From his position on the bed in the center of the room, Al guessed she was about 5’8” and about 240 pounds.
No way did
Frieda’s shape hourglass-sexy, but she looked really attractive in a strange sexy-mama sort of way. Much of her excess weight was in her bust (which projected like a cliff over her belly) and her butt (which almost made it look like she was smuggling pillows under her dress). All in all, she was extra-voluptuous in a lush homespun sort of way, but then again nobody had asked
Al. And they weren’t about to!
Mistress
Frieda (Al decided he’d better think of her that way from the start) was still giggling so hard that her sides hurt. “Indra, this is crazy! I should know- my boyfriend Jorge liked to get tied up too. Thank you so much for inviting me to your party!”
Mistress
Indra pulled off her uniform shift and pulled up a chair on the far side the bed. She slid her panties off and sat down on the edge of the chair, her legs spread. Al stared at her open crotch, his eyes wide with lust. His cock, which had wilted while they were gone and her was alone with his concerns, had once again returned to its usual rigidity.
Al’s attention was pulled away from Mistress Indra by the movement as Mistress Frieda stood at the side of the bed and unhooked her uniform shift. She pulled it up and over her head. As it rose, Al watched her broad but firm legs (you stay in shape being a maid) came into view. The shift rose further, and she showed Al her firmly girdled belly.
With a final tug, Mistress Frieda displayed herself in an open-bottom corset over a pair of white cotton panties. The corset was the old-fashioned boned style with laces-
Al hadn’t seen anything like that since he saw his grandma’s hanging on the line. The top of it was a bra, of course, but a mega-bra, which struggled to contain what had to be at least a 48” bust. The bra was really too small for her, and her boobs made up for the difference by bulging liquidly over the top, an involuntary push-up effect.
Mistress
Frieda bent slightly, giving Al a view down her stupendous cleavage as she reached down and pushed her panties down and off. The corset reached halfway between her waist and her crotch, giving Al a clear view of a bush as thick as a forest. Between her heavy thighs, he could see that her crotch was as wide as his hand, maybe more.
The bed heaved up and down as Mistress Frieda knelt on it and crawled up beside him. She reached behind his head and loosened his gag. “Mister Al, I need your lips. Do you promise to be quiet? If you yell or anything like that, I’ll have to gag you again, and if I’m left unsatisfied, well, Jorge taught me what to do to keep you in line.” She reached down and gave his balls a gentle squeeze. Al figured out what she meant and relaxed while she removed the gag from his mouth.
Al needed no persuasion. “Mistress Frieda, I am happy to be of service to you. There will be no noise, I promise you.” “Good- thank you. Now be quiet.” Mistress
Frieda dropped the gag beside his head and pivoted on one knee to straddle his chest; Al looked down his length at her large belly and broad, extravagantly hairy bush with a mixture of fear and dread which was belied by his tree-like erection.
Mistress
Frieda smiled at the expression on his face and knee-walked up his body, reaching down to squeeze his elbows in until his face disappeared between her thick thighs. Mistress Indra picked up her chair and moved it down to the foot of the bed where she had a sterling view of his chin mere centimeters away from
Frieda’s thick bush. Through the thick hair, she could see Frieda’s thick pussy lips hanging heavily down, wetly awaiting Al’s service.
“You know what you have to do for me, don’t you, Mister Al?”
“Yes, Mistress Frieda, I do.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do for me!”
going to use my tongue, the only thing I have available, to bring you pleasure.
I’m completely bound and can’t reach you with my cock, but I will use my tongue on your pussy to make you feel all the good sensations you can.”
“That’s the right idea, but you’re going to be gentle and take your time to make me cum. You’re going to take me slowly to the edge of a huge orgasm and you’re going to keep me there as long as I want you to. Right?”
“Yes, Mistress. Since I’m helplessly bound, I know that I can’t come without your permission, so I will be able to devote myself to your pleasure with no thought of my own.”
“Very good- at least you know that you can’t come until I decide you can come. Now shut up and go to work.”
Mistress
Indra watched between Mistress Frieda’s heavy thighs as she moved up over
Al’s face and slowly lowered her incredibly furry bush to his lips. Al carefully parted her hair with his lips and tongue, his nose filled with her heady scent, until he could start to work parting her fat pussy lips. Mistress
Frieda groaned and Al looked up across her belly as she began to work her fingers into the top of her corset, digging for her nipples.
Mistress
Indra put her feet up on the footboard, her nylon-covered thighs spread wide, and licked her lips as her hands slipped slowly into her crotch. Mistress
Frieda’s knees slipped further apart on the quilt, lowering her pussy onto
Al’s face. Her bulging butt began to make circles so Al’s face was forced to follow her.
After a minute or so of Al’s tender ministrations, Mistress Frieda- her face shining with a thin film of passion sweat- reached down to unhook her corset. As it sprang free, her belly surged out and her heavy breasts tumbled free, jiggling massively. She tossed the sturdy garment to the side and devoted both hands to her nipples, twisting them and pinching them until she winced.
Mistress
Frieda’s squirming became more and more vigorous, but Al worked desperately and passionately as his deepest fears and delights were realized as- helplessly bound by his own hands- he was forced to sexually service two strange women, with no possibility of his own orgasm. Her meaty crotch skimmed his face lightly, and he struggled to stroke her sensitive flesh gently, to bring her slowly to her own peak of pleasure.
Al’s face was wet with Mistress Frieda’s passionate juices before her guttural sounds became loud enough for him to hear. Actually, Mistress Indra was making almost as much noise as her own excitement had her on the verge of her own orgasm, but years of masturbation had taught her, like it had Al, that the best orgasm is an orgasm delayed, and she dragged it out as long as she could.
Finally
Mistress Frieda decided her time had come. “Okay, Mister Al, you may make me cum now! Make it slow and make it last as long as you can.” She lowered her crotch to Al’s face, and Mistress Indra watched as Mistress Frieda’s ass cheeks enveloped his chin.
Al reached out to her clit with his tongue, carefully circling her clit. Mistress Frieda began to buck frantically, making Al struggle to maintain contact with her.
Finally, knowing her own orgasm depended on it, she forced her hips more or less still, and Al sucked her clit deep into his mouth.
“Ahhh… that’s it… ahhh… “
Mistress Indra got off her chair and knelt beside Al’s head, wrapping her arms around Mistress Frieda’s chunky body. As Al worked desperately at the thick clit, Mistress Indra bent her head to bite on Mistress Frieda’s nipples as her hands worked desperately at her own crotch. Mistress Frieda grabbed Indra’s head and held it to her heaving breasts.
Mistress
Indra’s orgasm broke first, and in her passion she bit down hard on Mistress
Frieda’s nipples. Mistress Frieda screamed throatily and started her own orgasm. She threw her weight down hard on Al’s face, her hips humping back and forth, as her juices flooded out onto his helpless face.
A minute or so later, the two maids sagged to the bed, their arms around each other, and covered Al’s head and body with a tangle of satiated female flesh. A few more minutes later, they dragged themselves to their feet, giggling happily as they watched Al’s frustrated struggling, his swollen cock giving mute testimony to his need for release.
After the two ladies quickly dressed, Mistress Frieda picked up the third DVD and slipped it into the PC as Mistress Indra replaced the gag in Al’s mouth. As the FBI warning flashed across the screen, they pushed Mistress Indra’s cart out the door with a cheery “Don’t worry, Mister Al- we’ll be back after our shift is over!”
(* Author’s note- please don’t accuse me of bigotry; Mexico has some of the most beautiful girls in the universe. I just needed a lady of the described characteristics, and Mexico also makes some of the best of those, too. — RS)
Motel 7 · Part 2 (2/2)
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