Weird Scenes Inside the Bimbo Room – Volume V
I lay sprawled out on my back on the thick white rug that covered the floor in front of the massive stone fireplace. Unless there was something pressing going on in the Keep or with the Pack, Thursday nights were spent in the Entertainment Room. That’s just an eloquent name for what all my underlings refer to as the ‘Slut Hut’ or what Kate refers to as the Bimbo Room when she was being good; I had heard from others that she called it more than that on occasion. Call it what you will, I had a lot of responsibility hanging over my head twenty-four-seven, and every once in a while, I just needed to stretch out and relax with an invigorating physical workout with a contemporary of the opposite sex.
Most of the time, I was here with a willing companion, someone who had no problems working the kinks out of my body, kneading the muscles on my arms, legs, back, neck, and, yes, sometimes, the main muscle. The foot-long hot dog. The Muscle of Love. Hmmm, I wonder if I can get Alexa to play some Alice Cooper? Anyway, at other times I was here with a status-seeking wench, one willing to play as though she were here for sex but was actually looking for more. Granted, they still put out and pretended to enjoy it, but they expected another shot with me instead of a one and done; and a room with me in it to call their own.
Whatever. My little tryst with Christine last week had pretty well wiped me out. Hell, a week later and I still had her fixed in my mind, and I was still exhausted. Every action we had taken still danced through my brain like I was watching a YouTube video over and over. Her gorgeous body, that silky blonde hair falling down her back like a waterfall. Those luscious large breasts topped by pert little pink nipples that popped out like tiny torpedoes when she got excited. That beautiful little furless kitty meowing at me from between those long, lean legs like a cat hungry for milk. That giant strap-on dildo that made my manhood look small – Whoa, Nelly! I thought I had excised that last image forever from my brain for the good of all, especially me. That was a site to see, though; that frail little body packing a wallop of a dollop and more than willing to use it! Still, that was supposed to be a well-guarded secret in the secret world of depravity.
Moving right along, then. No wonder I was here alone, dreaming of an evening I would never partake in again. It would be hard, if not impossible, to create that scene with her, let alone another girl like her and have it all work out the same. Hell, my most worrisome thought right at the moment was that I might not ever find another girl like Christine to create any scene, decent or not. Yet I continued to lay there thinking the evening couldn’t sink any lower, but that thought sent the last bit of joy I was trying desperately to hold on to flush right down the old proverbial shitter.
And then I heard the soft, stealthy fall of footsteps on the stone floor outside the Slut Hut. I almost felt the person stop in front of the door and raise their hand to …
Knock Knock.
Ah, Derek. What brings you to the door this evening?
I have come with a message, my liege!
A message? What kind of shit is that!
“Enter!” I roared. This secret mind-to-mind message bullshit was getting old! I just wanted him to spit out whatever it was he had come for. My mood was scrapping rock bottom, and I did not have any desire to play games.
The door opened slowly, and Derek stepped into the room. He was dressed in his black jeans, black T-Shirt, and black motorcycle boots; it made me wonder if his socks and underwear if he wore any, were black as well. His rich brown hair was cut short, and his brown eyes sparkled. Derek was one of those young men who had young girls falling all over him with his down-home good looks and laid-back attitude. Hell, he probably had their mothers and grandmothers trying to make moves on him as well. I would love to hook him up with one of the boudas, and then get a written report on the outcome of the evening. Something to think about; besides, he was a good, loyal kid, and he deserved some good times after the crap life had thrown at him.
“My Liege.” He held out his arm to me, and in his hand, I saw a large, ornate envelope. It looked expensive and spoke of fantasy. “This just came for you, and I thought I should bring it right up.”
He walked the few steps from the door to where I lay, bent over, and placed the envelope in my hand. I snatched it from him while I was coming up into a sitting position.
“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll take my leave.” He politely waited while I weighed what he had said.
“No, Derek.” I was too down to try and make him feel guilty, so I just dismissed him. “You can go. Try to get out of here and do something for yourself for a change. Go fuck one the boudas and let me know how it turns out.”
He grimaced at the thought of what I had said, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, Curran.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Once he was gone, I took a closer look at the envelope. It was expensive, just as I had thought. The color was a dark blue with an almost silky texture. The paper was thick, a heavy stock that spoke of money. The flap was sealed with a wax ring, the avatar pressed into the wax itself that of a dragon as best as I could tell, but I couldn’t quite make out the image well enough to be one hundred percent sure; for some reason, it looked vaguely familiar and yet…. Hmmm, where had I seen it before…
No matter. I slipped my thumbnail under the seal and popped it open in eager anticipation. My mood was beginning to lift in anticipation of what might lay ensconced in the envelope. I spread the envelope apart enough that I could see what was there. Inside was a single sheet of paper. Like the envelope, it was a dark blue and heavy, the sender sparing no expense. I pulled it out of the envelope and gave it a good going over.
On the front of the paper was a dark, repeating pattern, the lines so faint as to almost be a watermark. In the lower left-hand corner was pictured a clear glass with a silver tint to it, as if it was reflecting the light of the moon on its surface. Inside the glass was what appeared to be a clear liquid, with part of the liquid actually jumping up and out of the glass in a mini fountain as if an ice cube had been dropped into it from a good height.
In the upper right-hand corner of the letter, in a gold Times Roman script, were written five words: “YOU ARE INVITED TO A SEDUCTION.” Directly below this, in a smaller font, pale white writing said: “Please come to dinner this coming Friday Night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.”
On the back, written in large printed words, in the type of printing unique to women, was written, “Be here at 10 pm,” and under that, an address.
On Friday night at nine o’clock, I was outside waiting for my jeep to be brought around. All of the pack jeeps were modified to run whether Tech or Magic was in control. From the thundering bellows issuing forth from the vehicle, I knew that Magic ruled.
It didn’t surprise me that Derek climbed out of the Jeep when it came to a stop beside me; the kid was a workhorse. I couldn’t get him even to take Friday night off. I’d have to do something extra special for him. Hell, he was the closest thing to a son I had, and I should show him I appreciated all he did for me.
He stepped away from the vehicle, and I climbed in behind the wheel. Before I closed the door, I gave him the address of where I was headed. I knew that if he didn’t hear from me by tomorrow evening, the pack would be tearing the building down to find me. God, I love for someone to have my back!
I drove the Jeep into downtown Atlanta, the magic water-infused engine screaming and bellowing as if in pain with every mile I traveled. I watched the animals around the Keep running in fright from the noisy behemoth, looking as if God was calling down fire and brimstone in an effort to end the world. At least they could run away – I was trapped in this thing until I reached the Stellar Arms Inn.
I finally reached the Inn, pulled into a parking space, shut the Jeep down, and sat excitedly in the driver seat until some semblance of the hearing had returned. It wouldn’t do for me to wander around in an unfamiliar area, deaf to what was around me. That would be a good way to get fucked up quickly and royally.
Once I felt settled enough to function properly, I stepped out of the vehicle and onto the parking lot. I ran my hands down my sleeves, my arms crossed one over the other as they slid along the smooth material to get the wrinkles out. Once I had run out of material, I straightened my arms out, bent over, and ran my hands down the legs of my trousers in the same manner. Done with the legs, I reached back in the Jeep and pulled my jacket out with my left hand, slinging it over the same shoulder.
I had dressed to the nines for the occasion, even donning one of my few suits. The dark gray of the material went well with my short blonde hair and almost matched the gray of my eyes. The cut of the suit hid my stocky frame, giving me a long, lanky look. On my feet, I had slip-on oxfords covering my feet. Oh, hell! I lifted up one of my pant legs and confirmed what had just crossed my mind. No socks. Oh, bloody hell. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy! Considering the cost of the invitation, I let it go as I didn’t think she really wanted me here for my socks anyway.
I walked into the lobby and glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone I knew there. The place looked a little run down. Hell, let’s be real. The place was a fucking dump! The furniture was ratty and old, the paper on the walls looked to be covered in an off-green mold that could have been caused by any number of creatures, and the drapes around the filmy glass looked to have seen better days when Christ walked the Earth.
Besides myself, there was only a bellhop standing at attention in the corner dressed in a uniform a monkey would have refused to wear. The faded red of the uniform looked to be trying to hide in the room’s shadows and a skinny, bald-headed clerk behind the ragged counter. Scruffs and scratches covered the surface of the wood and looked to have been there for so long that they would never come out. He was waving at me as though he wanted me to go to him, so over there I went.
He nodded his head ever so slightly as I approached; I guess that was his idea of showing me respect. I didn’t care, he wasn’t one of mine, and he didn’t owe me anything. What’s the old saying, a wink’s as good as a nod to a blind horse? Wink away, mother fucker! With the feeling I was getting from the hotel so far, it made me wonder if the room had been paid for in anticipation of needing one hour or two. I had to hope for option number two as I felt frisky tonight.
“I’ve been asked to request that the Lord of the Free Beasts go to room 203. The stairs right over there give the quickest access to the room, as it is the second door to the left once you reach the top of the stairs. He talked in a deep, confident voice which I found surprising for someone who looked to be a person lacking all strength of character. He nodded towards the wide staircase with his shiny pate as he talked as if to make sure I could find them in the darkness surrounding them. “Here is the room key. The young woman requested you wait in the room for her; she should be along shortly.”
By the time I had walked to the staircase, I found that all of this 007 shit was beginning to give me a bad feeling about this secret rendezvous. Be here at ten, yet the mysterious woman is nowhere to be found. Wait in the room until I decide to grace you with my presence. Don’t get hard until I pull your pants down – whoops, guess the tension is getting to me. Like Alice in Wonderland, I felt myself finding everything to be curiouser and curiouser. Well, if there were any evil intentions planning to be played out, at least I’d get a few good shots in for my troubles.
I padded silently up the stairs, the threadbare carpet making a feeble attempt to cover the wooden risers. I stopped as I reached the top, staring down the hallway to get the lay of the land. Color me shocked, but the hallway was deserted. The same worn-out carpet reached down until it was out of sight, slipping into the shadows and looking as though it hadn’t seen new since the Fall of the Roman Empire. The distressed paper was peeling off the wall in strips and looked like it was being eaten by the cockroaches as fast as it fell. The thought entering my mind was what a place to be seduced in! Then again, maybe this was the best she could afford. I thought she could have done one better if she’d scrimped on the invite and spent more on the location, but what do I know? Hell, I could imagine the condition of the bed, and the image my thoughts sent to me was enough to make me turn around and run for the safety of the Slut Hut.
With a heavy heart, I forced myself to move forward. The door to 203 was the second door just off to the left, as advertised. The door was one of the older models, sturdy and well-made. The strange stains that covered the door’s surface made me worry I might stick to it should I get too close, and yet I pressed my ear against the door anyway, becoming perfectly still so I could listen to any goings on that might be happening in the room. It sounded as though all was quiet on the Western Front. I slowly slid the key into the lock and, with a lot of jiggling and muttered curses, managed to turn the door handle.
Slowly I opened the door towards the room, all my senses on high alert for any danger that might be waiting for me. A single light shed a faint glow through the lampshade of what appeared to be the only lamp in the room, giving what little I could make out in the small circle of light a sinister look. One thing was certain; the inside of the room was in no better shape than that which lay outside of it, but at least it looked as though someone had made an honest effort to clean the place. Maybe my paramour had been in earlier to give the room a good going over, or maybe she had forked out a couple of extra dollars for the bellhop to come up and clean out the worst of the mess. Whatever. I walked over to the big bed and pulled the covers back, checking for unwanted visitors. Looked clean. They must wash everything in bleach to keep infestations down. It worked for me.
I walked over to the door that hid the bathroom, flipped the wall switch, and hoped the light in the room worked. The fluorescent light stuttered a few times as if striving to break the darkness. Finally, it stayed on though it appeared the light fought a fierce battle with the darkness and almost won. In the wan light given off, I looked inside the bathroom as well as I could. Once again, I got the impression someone worked hard to keep appearances up. Everything in here was spic and span. Oh, and the tub was huge. Hmmm, food for thought. It made me wonder if there was enough hot water to fill the tub to the top. Definitely deep enough to hold someone underwater if it came to a fight.
Half distracted, peering into the bathroom, I heard the knob to the room door turning, and I thought from the sound it made that it was almost fully turned before I heard the knob hit the end of its turn. I spun towards the door, stepping back into the bathroom in an effort to conceal myself from whoever might be coming into the room. Since the lights that were on tried their best to cast any light in the stygian darkness but failed miserably, I remained pretty well hidden in the shadows.
The door opened slowly. Whether or not it was done to make sure I didn’t panic or to give them time to scope out who or what was inside, I didn’t know. It was a good move, a cautious move. It kept my blood pressure from spiking and sending me into a tizzy and leaping out at the intruder with giant claws instead of hands.
A single figure came into the room and pushed the door closed behind them. I couldn’t make out a face as they were wearing a long cloak with a hood. The hood was large enough that it kept their features concealed from my site. They couldn’t mask their smell from me, though. A shifter can hold thousands of scent markers in memory and draw them up instantly; a cat is not as proficient at this as a wolf, but I had the situation covered.
I took in a deep breath, letting the air flow in through my mouth so I could get a good sample of their scent. And what I smelled set my nerves on edge. I smelled death, I smelled magic. I smelled my enemy. Just at the point of recognition, she turned to face me and pulled her hood down and away from her head. There, in all her glory, was Rowena, Master of the Dead! The walking wet dream of thousands of boys and men. One everyone wanted to leave the dance with but who always left alone.
“Do be calm, Beast Lord!” Rowena stood stock still, knowing that to move at this point would be tantamount to trouble. She didn’t even blink. There was something in her voice that demanded I listen to her as if she were everything I’d ever known. “I invited you here this evening for some moments of pleasure, not distress!”
Without any hesitation or embarrassment, Rowena clutched the material of her cloak gathered at her neck and pulled. The cloak opened, and she shook out of it and let it fall into a pile around her feet. She stood there in the shadows naked as the day she was born, and I stared back at her, my heart pounding a staccato rhythm in my chest. I almost felt as if I was staring with my mouth hanging open, but a quick chin-check proved that not to be the case.
Looking her over carefully, I came to the conclusion that Rowena had the palest skin I think I had ever seen on anyone, short of on an albino. It seemed even paler on her face, being framed by a wealth of glossy red hair which fell in rivers over her shoulders and down her back. The red of her hair contrasted nicely with the deep, dark green of her eyes. Verdant came immediately to mind, her eyes reminding me of being lost in a forest. Her cheeks were flushed, and their roundness reminded me of apples.
While not tall, she was well-proportioned. Her arms and legs were firm and full, like the women in a Frank Frazetta drawing. Her breasts were what dreams were made of. Her stomach was flat and smooth. Overtop of her sex was a little runway of deep red fur, accenting the direction in which her cocksleeve could be found. The first thing that came to mind as I stood staring at her was an overwhelming need to touch her. Enemy or not, I wanted her. Sure, she was of the People, and I was of the Pack. But maybe this was meant to be a Romeo and Juliette type moment. Maybe the hostilities were supposed to come crashing down in one big orgasm.
She moved over to me, her steps both sensuous and stealthy at the same time, almost as if she were sliding down the runway of a fashion show wearing the Emperor’s new clothes. Her breasts moved gently from side to side as she walked, the movement kept to a minimum due to the way she walked, slow and smooth, hips swaying as if being blown back and forth by an unseen breeze. I was so mesmerized by the seductive approach that before I knew it, she had placed her small hands on my shoulders and stood up on her toes, allowing her full, lush lips to find mine. She brushed her lips over mine once, so softly that I was unsure she had really done it, and then, reaching around behind my head, pulled my lips to hers with a grip tight and sure so I could not break the contact before she was ready for it to happen. Her tongue probed my lips until it finally found a way into my mouth, and she pressed the advantage, pushing it in deeper until her tongue met mine and began to weave small minarets. Suddenly, the thought of enemies and hate was gone, washed away in an instant of lust.
She broke the kiss and pulled away. Her hands came up to my throat and removed the tie from around my neck. Then, slowly, the buttons on my shirt came undone until, at last, she pulled the shirt free of my pants and off my arms, letting it fall out of her hands and drop carelessly to the ground. She started walking around me, her hands never losing contact with my skin. It reminded me of a stripper moving around a pole. The thought only made me hotter! I couldn’t wait for her to complete the circle so I’d have her in front of me once more.
With the circle now completed, she dropped to her knees in front of me, murmuring to herself as she undid the buckle of my belt, moving so slowly that I swear time had stopped. She then unclasped my pants, sliding the zipper down while staring into my eyes with longing. With a sudden tug to get the waist of the pants over my hips, she let them fall to the ground. She pushed me gently with the palms of her hands, forcing me to step away from the pile of clothing now discarded on the ground like so much rubbish, and once again turned her face back until her mouth was just inches from my manhood.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed as she took in the size of my cock; it was semi-erect by this time, not at its largest, but even in its current state of arousal, it was certainly not anything to be ashamed of. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get that thing in my mouth!” There seemed to be truth in her words, and the way her eyes were wide with surprise, I had no doubt she felt her words to be true. Truth be told, I haven’t had a real blowjob since I was ten years old! “I’m not sure I’m even going to let you try to stick that monster in me, either! It looks as if it would be a painful experience!”
Still, Rowena grasped my cock in both her hands, leaned slightly forward, and ran her tongue up from my balls to the tip, making little rumbling noises in her throat as she went. Once at the tip, she spit onto the head and began to work the slick saliva in by holding my staff in one hand and rubbing my dick with the palm of her other hand, first in a clockwise motion, then widdershins. The spit made the skin of my cock very slick, and the rubbing was more than a little bit erotic. She repeated the whole process a couple of times, rubbing my cock like she was trying to make a genie appear. By now, my cock was fulling erect and standing at attention. Rowena, still grasping onto my shaft, pulled my small head down to her mount and, opening as wide as she could, attempted to take me into her mouth. As with so many other women, though, she could barely get the tip in before there was just no more she could get in her mouth to taste; ah, to be ten again and feel my shaft being pushed down a wanting throat!
It didn’t matter to me, though. At this point, the blood was running through my veins like a freight train run amuck. Lust had won out, and I needed to have Rowena six ways to Sunday. I needed to feel her in my arms, her firm tits pressed against my heaving chest, feeling the pounding of her heart against mine. I needed to feel her sex pressed against my aroused cock, those wet little pussy lips sliding up and down my cock, eagerly waiting for me to push my way into her velvet chamber. In almost a frenzy, I lifted her up off her knees in such a quick movement that she squeaked, what small amount of my shaft she had managed to get into her mouth, popping out, sounding like a cork leaving a champagne bottle. That’s right, little mouse, the big bad lion has you now! Be careful what you wish for and who you tempt to achieve your goal!
I carried Rowena over to the bed and laid her down on it, ensuring there was enough room left for me to stretch out next to her luscious body. I crawled onto the bed beside her and took her breasts in my mouth one at a time, sucking the nipples in a maddened frenzy. I rolled the erect nubs around with my lips and flicked the ends of the nipples with my tongue. I squeezed her breasts together so the nipples of each breast were touching each other and slathered my tongue across both of them at the same time like a cat slurping milk from a bowl.
Rowena was squirming with delight. Little noises came from her throat, and she panted shallowly, almost like a puppy. She grabbed my head with her hands and forced me down harder and harder until my face was between those firm, white globes. I might not be in heaven yet, but I certainly had made it to purgatory. I figured when I was done with the entrées, I would work my way down to heaven’s gates. Surely Saint Peter would have no objections to letting me in just this once.
To get a better position in order to please her more, I licked my way down her body from her breasts, strategically working my body until it was nestled between her spread legs and my mouth was just an inch away from her pussy. I placed my fingers on either side of her lips, let my elbows work their way under her knees, and then they pushed against her thighs, making her knees move up into the air and her thighs further away from her sex. Ah, the perfect position for some sucking and poking. Things were definitely headed in the right direction for a change!
I used every trick I had learned in my nights of depravity to make sure the woman in front of me didn’t have any thoughts of remorse. I reached under her cheeks and lifted her ass up so I could lick around her butthole, gently triggering little whimpers from her as my tongue worked over the sensitive nerves in the area, then every few licks, I would spear my tongue into that sweet little opening, causing her to stiffen and let out more little mewling sounds. Moving back to working her clit with my mouth, I plunged two fingers into her warm, slick pussy, moving them in and out of her, the actions of my sucking her nub into my mouth and working it with the tip of my tongue and the plunging of my fingers became more and more frantic. She was past making little noises and was fairly screaming obscenities at me as she approached nirvana, and still, I continued my ministrations on her, unable to stop even had she demanded it.
And all too soon, it was over. She came, squirting warm, wet liquid into my mouth. In between her squirting her pent-up orgasm into my mouth like a golden shower, I would bark demands at her. “Don’t waste it! Don’t waste it – cum in my mouth! And as if she heard me and wanted to prove herself to me, she’d push her hips into the air a tiny bit, convulse from her core, and cum into my mouth, again and again, giving me a chance to swallow her offerings before it happened again.
With her last blast of cum in my mouth, so much that my cheeks were bowed outwards from the volume, I found that I had reached the limit of my control. While swallowing as much as I could of the liquid in my mouth, and the rest running out between my lips and dribbling down my chin like a tiny stream, I moved forward and to my knees, grabbed Rowena under her firm butt-cheeks, lifted them up for the perfect angle to push my cock into her cunt, and pressed the head of my cock into the entrance of her pussy. With no feelings at all of guilt, I thrust my member into her dripping wet hole in one savage motion, making sure I was completely buried in her sex. A short, shrieking scream burst from her when I was in so deep that my balls were pressed against her ass crack. With total abandon, I began to pound her tight pussy with fourteen inches of fat cock. I moved in so that each stroke out came right to the ridge of my small head, and each thrust pounded her ass with my balls.
I was so caught up in the sex that nothing else mattered. I pounded her pussy relentlessly, breathing in and out like a locomotive. She screamed at the stretching that was happening to her pussy, trying to catch her breath between my thrusts. Together we worked our way to the greatest of heights, each working their body for the others’ gain. This seemed to go on and on, leaving each of us in our own little world, yet connected to each other by sensations that had to be felt to be known. The feeling was amazing, something that should last forever, but nothing lasts forever. With one final thrust, I plunged far past where I had been in the depths of her vagina and roared as I emptied myself into her. Time after time, my cock pulsed, spilling my seed into her. Time after time, she screamed for more. After what seemed to be ages but was only a flash of time as the world turned, I pulled out of her silken cocksleeve and fell down beside her, every muscle in my body drained to the point of exhaustion.
“Curran,” she said in a low voice after we had lain there long enough to catch our breath. She seemed hesitant to talk to me, as if she was afraid that what she was going to say would make me mad. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about this evening because I’ve never been fucked so thoroughly before and probably never will be again, but I think it’s probably for the best if we keep this little encounter between the two of us. We’re from different sides of the track, as it were, and this thing between us would never last.”
The thought didn’t bother me as I had to agree with her; a Master of the Dead and a Shifter would never work out. In fact, I basically considered it a score; free pussy, an intense evening, and no hard feelings between us. Plus, I didn’t really want to go back to the Keep and tell them I’d just boffed one of the People; I would never be able to live that down. Even though Rowena was not as bad as the others, she was still a Master of the Dead. Still, there was one thing I had to know.
“You ashamed of me?” I asked, mostly just to rankle her. I said it in a joking manner, mostly.
“Of course not!” she snapped. “But you know as well as I do that to continue on with this is doomed. We are what we are.” She paused for a minute, running a manicured finger across my stomach. “I’ve always wanted to have you in any way I could, but even I knew it could only be a one-time deal. I’ll take it, move on, and cherish the experience forever.”
I let silence fill the room. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that two people of the same mind frame can have without being pretentious. I knew she was right, and I was glad that I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up. After all, what we had done to each other, it would have made me feel like a jerk.
“Well, Rowena. I agree with you on this one hundred percent. But there is still something we need to do before we go our separate ways.”
“And what would that be?”
“We need to get our asses in that oversized tub in there and clean this mess off of us. It’s always easier when you have someone to wash your back for you! Besides, I still think there’s an issue of some sort we need to figure out; something about whether this fourteen-inch monster will fit in your ass or not?”
The End.
