Please pay attention to the tags. If you're squicked by hardcore shit, please don't read it and give it negative ratings. As I've developed Mel's character, I've decided to move this to the Dark Fantasy genre, and take the story in a much darker direction.
Chapter 3 Mel meets the motel owners Mel had been working the truck stop for about a month and a half. During that time she had accumulated tens of thousand dollars from working the truckers, twenty dollars at a time.
At the end of each day, she would put most of the cash into an envelope and mail it to herself at a PO box that she had set up on the far side of town, using the PO box as a safe deposit box for her earnings. She would keep just enough cash on hand each day for food, drink, and to pay for her room. She found that she rarely needed more than 2 or 3 hours of sleep each day, and only ate when she wanted a break from sucking cocks.
She avoided the drugs that most of the other hookers working the area indulged in, she had no interest in them. During that time her already slim body became even more trim. Although she had hardly any body fat, she had too much muscle stretched across her frame to be considered anorexic. She kept her hair cropped short in a marine Q-tip cut, her tits were bare A-cups, her belly flat, with prominent hips, her shaved cunt mound was prominent below her flat belly, with dark fleshy lips.
Every day or two she would drop by the motel office to pay for her room by giving Bill, the clerk, a blow job and about half the cash that she was supposed to be paying for the room.
It was a good arrangement, but it was too good to last. Mel was walking back to the motel after spending the previous 16 hours giving blow jobs. It was early evening, but with the combined cum from close to 30 truckers in her belly, she wasn't hungry. Opening the door to her room, she never saw the person behind the door who pushed the stun gun into her neck and pulled the trigger.
Mel dropped to the floor, involuntarily curling up. Her position didn't protect her from receiving a kick in the belly. A wave of nausea swept over her, her whole body heaving, she vomited cum into her mouth.
Ropes of coagulated ejaculate from her belly filled her nose, the stomach acid burning her sinuses. With another shot from the stun gun to the base of her neck, Mel sank into unconsciousness, the last thing she remembered was thinking "this is going to end badly for someone". Mel didn't know how long she had been unconscious. From the sunlight filtering in through the glass block window, she guessed that it was early afternoon, that would mean close to 20 hours from the previous evening.
She was naked, face down in the bathtub, her body contorted painfully in the cramped space. Her chest burned with pain, her whole body ached.
Rolling onto her back, she tried sitting up. Her first attempt was unsuccessful, with a wave of vertigo she dropped her head back onto the edge of the tub, and lay there listening until her head stopped spinning. She could hear muffled voices from the other room through the closed door. Her second attempt to sit up was successful.
She sat on the edge of the tub, looking at herself in the vanity mirror. Her body was covered in dark purple bruises, which would explain why she ached with every move.
What caught her eye though were her tits, which were covered in dried blood. Each of her nipples had a massive steel ring through them, about an inch in diameter. "OK, so that explains why my chest feels like it's on fire" she thought to herself "but who's responsible for this?" Standing up, she walked over to the vanity to examine herself more closely in the mirror. Because of her body's unique ability to heal itself, the deep welts covering her body were already fading, but it was clear that someone had beaten her with a what looked like a heavy cane while she was unconscious.
The bruises ran across the front and back of her thighs, across her belly and tits and her upper arms. Straining to look at her back in the mirror, she could see a mass of healing welts across her back. Every move elicited new aches from her muscles. At some point in time, she had pissed herself, dried piss coated the inside of her thighs. Reaching up to her nipples, she gently tugged on one of the rings. The tension broke the dried blood coating her nipple, fresh blood started leaking from the wound.
Wiping it off with her finger, she licked the finger clean. The taste of her blood elicited a familiar wetness between her cunt lips. "Well fuck me, girl, you're just incorrigible" she thought to herself. "There's someone in the next room who almost beat you to death, and all you can think of is cumming. First things first though, I need to find out what's going on." She heard an awkward laugh from the next room, and immediately recognized it as belonging to Bill, the motel clerk she had been paying with blowjobs for the last 6 weeks.
That clarified the situation for Mel. She could now make out Bill's voice from the other room, he was trying to explain to someone that it wasn't his fault that Mel had been staying at the motel almost rent-free for the whole time. Mel knew that he was talking to the mysterious owners of the motel. Apparently few people knew who the owners were, and the consensus was that nobody wanted to run into them.
Everyone Mel had met since arriving seemed to be terrified of the owners. "Well, no time like the present to meet them" she thought to herself. Walking to the bathroom door, Mel opened the door and walked out into the living room. She was still naked. Whatever Bill had been saying, he stopped in mid-sentence, standing in the middle of the room staring at Mel with his mouth agape. Bill was a mess.
His nose had been broken, covered crudely with a bloody bandage, his left eye was almost swollen shut with a dark welt from a cane blazed across the same cheek. Three of the fingers on his right hand were in a crude splint. From the awkward angle they were at, they had clearly been broken. Sitting on the couch in front of Bill were a man and a woman, both looked to be well over 70.
Mel was immediately reminded of the nursery rhyme from her childhood about Jack Sprat. The man was thin to the point of being gaunt, the woman sitting next to him, Mel knew that this was his wife, looked to be close to 300 pounds, even though she couldn't have been any taller than Mel. The woman clenched a well-chewed cigar between her teeth. The overwhelming read Mel got from them was of indifferent evil.
Both of them lived in their own world where other people's suffering meant nothing to them. With her entrance, all eyes in the room turned to Mel. The fourth person in the room looked like a linebacker, easily over 6 feet tall, dark black skin, shaved head, solidly muscled with his shirt off baring a heavily tattooed chest with the same steel rings through his nipples as Mel sported through hers.
He was clearly the owner's body guard. The old man spoke with a wheezy voice "well I see our guest of honor has decided to join us. Come over and sit on the bed, child, we're going to educate you on the ways of the world you've chosen to live in." Mel walked over and sat on the bed, noticing the man tightened his grip on the cane he was holding out in front of him as she came closer.
This was clearly what had been used to beat both her, and Bill. It was dark, almost black, shiny, about an inch thick, with intricate carvings along its convoluted length and a set of claws carved into the handle holding what looked like a solid ball of ivory, about the size of a billiard ball. "Did you really think that we'd let you stay here indefinitely without paying your fair share?" The man's voice sounded like it came from a far distance, it was faint, but carried a strength to it.
"You've been taking advantage of poor Billy's weakness for sins of the flesh. If it had been anyone else, he'd be dead by now, but we have a soft spot for poor Billy. He is our only grandson, after all." With this the woman spoke. Her voice was gravelly, the result of years of cigar smoking and raw whiskey. "You're nothing special, just another whore, no different from hundreds we've seen come through our motel. If you want to stay here, you'll need to pay your fair share.
You'll need to learn how to do things our way." Mel immediately knew that these two people were responsible for countless misery inflicted on girls over the years, many of them young runaways who ended up here, only to be forced with drugs, beatings and rape into selling their bodies.
But nobody was forcing Mel to do anything, she enjoyed what she was doing, and she knew that she would enjoy what was coming up even more. "You're older than girls normally are when they start work here, which means you've already picked up bad habits. You're also uppity, thinking that you can set your own rules for staying here. We're going to cure you of those wicked ways." The old man seemed out of breath after speaking.
"Let's get started now, shall we?" With that, the bodyguard walked over, holding up the stun gun. "Don't make things harder than they need to be." His voice was soft, almost apologetic and soothing.
Looking into his eyes, Mel saw how this encounter would end, and she smiled to herself. Reaching behind her, the bodyguard wrapped one of his massive arms around her neck, and used the other arm to pin her arms behind her back. Whispering in her ear he said "Just go with the flow." The old man stood up, leaning heavily on his cane.
Walking over to Mel, he reached down and roughly pushed the head of his cane into her cunt. Mel gasped, partly in surprise, mostly because the ball on the handle, and the rough carving, filled her cunt in a wonderful way. "We understand that you don't let your customers fuck you." As he worked the head of his cane around inside her cunt, the old mans breath in her face smelled of something dead. "That's very selfish of you. Don't you know that selfishness is a sin?" The truth is that Mel hadn't let any of her johns fuck her.
She had nothing against the idea, she just found that giving blow jobs was a much more efficient way of earning money. With the truckers who were willing to pay extra, fucking never entered the negotiations, unless it was Mel fucking the john's ass with either a strap-on, or her fist.
Mel couldn't hide the fact that she was getting turned on by the violation with the old man's cane. Her body was coated with sweat, her face was flushed, hips involuntarily grinding, her nipples with the fresh steel rings were erect and aching, and her cunt was sopping wet, her lips greedily gripping the shaft, with juices running down her inner thighs. Pulling the head of the cane out, he stepped back.
The bodyguard tightened his grip around Mel's neck to the point where she began to feel light headed. The old man spoke "We're going to cure you of that selfishness and teach you how to be fucked." With that he unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.
What Mel saw looked almost comical. His cock looked like it had all the life energy that the rest of his body lacked. It was large and fleshy, uncircumcised, about 9 inches long, as big around as Mel's wrist, it looked like old leather, and from the faint scars criss-crossing the skin it had clearly been used for decades in ways that Mel found obscenely exciting.
The old woman spoke "be a good boy and help your grand-father Billy.". With an uneasy look on his face, Bill started awkwardly pulling off his shirt and pants, acts that were made more difficult by his broken fingers.
Once naked, Mel saw his cock was already hard, about 8 inches long, freckled with a bulbous red head. She had taken that bent cock down her throat many times over the last 6 weeks, but had never felt it inside her cunt or ass.
Kneeling on the floor in front of the old man, Bill took the head of his cock in his mouth and began noisily sucking on it. Grabbing Bill by the back of his head, the old man forced his face onto his cock, Bill began gagging on the violation.
Pulling his head back, Mel could see the old cock was coated with spit and getting harder. As it swelled, Mel could see that the faint scars covering the leathery skin formed deliberate patterns, like scrimshaw carvings covering a whale bone. Mel could make out what appeared to be pentagrams, images of devils and other obscenities carved into the leathery skin of the old man, she was fascinated. As his cock became harder and the foreskin pulled back, Mel could see that the head of his cock had been tattooed with the same claws encircling the head as had been carved into the head of his cane.
Mel's cunt was sopping wet at this point. As the old man kept throat fucking Bill's face, his gagging became worse. With the blood soaked bandage over his broken nose, he could only breathe through his mouth, but the violation of his throat with the old man's cock made that impossible. Gripping the old man's withered ass with both hands, Bill began choking up and vomiting on his cock.
That seemed to goad the old man on to greater efforts, he took the cane and held it horizontally across the back of Bill's neck, pulling his head deeper into his crotch with both hands. At this point Bill began struggling, trying to pull back, but the man's strength was deceptive for someone that old and gaunt.
After several minutes of struggling, during which Bill kept vomiting despite having the old man's cock firmly lodged down his throat, Bill's struggles became weaker. When he stopped struggling, the old man pulled Bill's head off of his cock and pushed him backwards to lie on the floor. Mel had been watching mesmerized the entire time this was happening. When it became clear that she wasn't going to struggle or try to get away, the bodyguard had loosened his hold around her neck.
Letting go of her arms, he reached around and started roughly squeezing one of her nipples, making it bleed from around the fresh piercing.
With her arms free, Mel reached around and started fucking her cunt with one hand, stuffing her fingers into the sopping hole. Her nipple felt it was on fire, and her cunt was soaked, aching for something larger than her fingers. Bill lay on the floor, his face covered in blood and vomit, his breathing labored.
Pre-cum leaked from his still-hard cock. The old man's cock looked like it had a life of its own.
It stood upright against his belly, fully ten inches long, thicker than Mel's wrist. The scars along the entire shaft were clearly visible, forming an intricate network of arcane symbols of power. Bill's vomit, mucous and blood from his broken nose coated the shaft of the cock. It throbbed in tune to the old man's heartbeat. Pulling Mel's legs apart with a surprising strength, he positioned the head of the cock against her cunt.
"It's your turn now child." "Give me everything you've got old man. If you're man enough, that is." With that goading from Mel, he viciously shoved his cock into her cunt, her lips gripped the shaft and seemed to pull him in deeper. A small part of Mel's mind wondered how she was able to take the entire length of his cock into her cunt, but that thought was pushed aside as she came, her whole body shuddering, her cunt tightly gripping his cock, her legs wrapping around his thin body and pulling in tighter.
Mel's legs were pulling him in so tightly he was having trouble thrusting his hips back and forth.
His cock seemed alive inside her cunt, it kept throbbing in tune with his heartbeat. As Mel pulled him in, the look of indifferent evil on his face began to be replaced by something else. At first it was confusion, then concern, then finally panic as he realized that he wasn't able to pull out of her. Her thighs squeezed him so tightly he had trouble breathing, her cunt squeezed his cock so tightly his crotch felt like it was on fire.
In desperation the old man raised his cane to strike at Mel's head. It was this moment that the bodyguard chose to declare his independence. Reaching onto the bed next to him, he grabbed the stun gun, and in one swift movement he pressed it against the base of the old man's skull and pulled the trigger.
The reaction was instantaneous. He dropped the cane and his entire body began convulsions. With another shock from the stun gun, the old man fell over backwards, onto the floor, pulling Mel with him, her legs still locked around his torso. Mel could have sworn that his cock was writhing inside her cunt, like a snake trying to escape a death grip. As she landed on top of him, his cock began shooting a combination of ejaculate and piss deep into her cunt.
Grinding her cunt into him, she reached across to grab the cane lying on the floor. Holding it across his throat, she pushed until she could feel his larynx being crushed under her weight.
As his struggles grew weaker, it seemed as if the remaining life in his body fled into his cock. If anything it became even more animated inside her, flexing and twisting, piss and cum leaking out of her cunt. As the old man drew his last breath, Mel came. Her whole body was racked with overwhelming convulsions, skin flushed, drenched with sweat, still grinding her hips into his.
Several minutes later, slowly recovering from her orgasm, Mel felt a heat slowly building in her crotch. It felt as if the dead man's cock, which still filled her cunt, was transferring a slowly building heat to her body. Lifting the cane, Mel pulled sharply on the handle, revealing a concealed blade that was about six inches long and no more than half an inch wide.
It's edge gleamed in the late afternoon sun coming through the window. Reaching down, Mel swiftly drew the blade across the base of the dead man's cock, slicing through flesh, meat, blood vessels and cartilage. Once the cock was severed from his body, Mel stood up, the base of the severed cock only slightly protruding from her cunt.
Dark blood poured down her inner thighs as the dead cock drained itself, mixing with the cum and piss that had filled her earlier. Reaching down, Mel pulled the now limp piece of flesh out of her cunt.
Holding it up next to the cane, she realized two things. First, the dead piece of flesh she was holding in her hand had transferred all of it's obscene power to her, through her cunt. Second, she realized that the cane wasn't wood, as she had originally thought, but it was made of tanned and lacquered flesh, hard and springy. Examining it closely, she knew instinctively what to do.
Gripping the cane in one hand, she pushed the tip into the base of the dead cock she was holding in her other hand. Slowly, she impaled the dead cock along its length, pushing it up onto the cane until it formed a new layer of flesh on the lower part of the cane. The cane grew warm in her hands as the new flesh seemed to shrink and conform to the shape of the cane, turning dark until it was barely distinguishable from the other layers of cock flesh making up the cane.
The arcane symbols that had decorated the length of the mans cock now melted into the rest of the symbols on the cane. Mel knew the cane was now hers. During this time, Mel had been completely focused on the old man, oblivious to the others still in the room with her.
Looking up now, she saw that Bill still lay on the floor, his breathing ragged. The bodyguard was standing next to the old woman. With the death of her husband, she looked like all the life had drained out of her. "We knew this day would come, we just didn't know when or who it would be" her gravelly voice contained none of the power or threat that it had earlier.
Indeed, she appeared to be dying by the minute, her face drained of all color, her body sinking in on itself. Mel could see that she was no threat at this point, so she turned her back on the room and walked into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she set the cane down next to the tub and ran a hot bath. Sinking into the hot water, Mel relaxed, feeling the heat soothe her sore body. After a few minutes, the door opened and the bodyguard came into the room.
His hands and forearms were covered in the old woman's blood. Keeling beside the tub, he took a bar of soap and began gently washing Mel's body, massaging her as he did so. Opening her eyes and looking up into his, Mel asked "we're going to get to know each other very well, aren't we?" "Yes we are, my love." With that, Mel sank into a deep, relaxed sleep.