Hot Sheets (30 page)

"Do you have a
room?" she asked, her eyes widening as she glimpsed his stiff
member. "Oh, my God!" she cried. "What are you doing with your
thing out?"

"I was... I
was just tucking my shirt in."

"Wait a
minute, you're the man who flashed at me! I sketched you, the
picture was in the local paper!"

"No, it wasn't
me!" Mike laughed nervously, at last managing to zip up his
trousers. "I only arrived this morning from the outer
Hebrides."

"The outer
Hebrides?"

"Yes, I've
been on holiday. So, you'd like a room?"

"Er... yes,
please."

"Right, what
name is it?"

"Judy Painter.
You're remarkably like the man..."

"As I said,
I've been away. Just the one night, is it?"

"I'm not sure
yet. You see, I've left my husband."

Not another one
. "Oh, I'm sorry to
hear that."

"After the
flashing incident, I went to the police with a sketch of the man.
They finally told me that they knew who he was and that he was
already under suspicion of running a brothel and..."

"Yes, but why
leave your husband?"

"I kept
looking at my sketch and... well, sadly, my husband's equipment
paled into insignificance."

"Really?"

"Yes, and I've
been looking for the flasher ever since."

"Why?"

"Because I
hold him personally responsible for destroying my marriage."

"Er... I'm
afraid I'm fully booked."

"Oh, what a
shame. You really do look so much like the..."

"Yes, well...
try the Salt Spray Hotel, they might be able to fit you in."

"Yes, I will.
Thank you."

Breathing a sigh of relief as the young woman left, Mike was
certain that she'd been sent by Dickwipe. It was probably some
ingenious plan to have him fall into a trap. Hauling his solid
penis out again, he pondered on the young woman's words.
My husband's equipment paled into
insignificance
. "A most perceptive
woman."

Dickwipe was
becoming an irritant, he decided, and the time had come to do
something about him. His continual phone calls and uninvited visits
had to stop - but how? As the lift door opened and Wendy Widegroin
emerged in her turquoise dress, Mike stared in horror at the woman.
"What the..." he breathed as she dashed across the foyer and flew
through the doors into the street. "Jesus Christ, she's
escaped!"

Racing across
the foyer, his disgruntled penis sticking menacingly out of his
trousers, he took the lift to the top floor and rushed along the
hall to the sex room. Stark naked, Harold Gloom had his solid penis
buried deep within Belinda's inflamed pussy hole, his mouth closed
over her areola.

"What happened
to the other woman?" Mike yelled, zipping his trousers.

"She wanted to
join in so I released her and she ran off!" Harold babbled
excitedly, slipping the delicacy from his mouth.

"You released
her? Bloody hell, now I'm really in the spunk!"

"She'll soon
be back, Mike!" Belinda grinned. "And then you'll not only be in
the spunk, as you crudely put it, but you'll..."

"Shut up, you
stupid woman!" Mike snapped. "Harold, get out of here! Fancy
letting my prisoner go, you soppy sod!"

"Prisoner?"
Harold frowned, his glistening shaft slipping out of Belinda's
tight, sperm-drenched fanny. "I didn't know she was a
prisoner."

Flopping onto
the bed as Harold grabbed his clothes and fled the room, Mike held
his head in his hands. Widegroin would run to Dickwipe, Dickwipe
would round up his merry men and raid the hotel... "Fuck and double
fuck!" he breathed.

"You've quite
a list of offences," Belinda laughed, sperm coursing down her inner
thighs.

"You're not
out of here yet, so be careful!" Mike warned, rising to his feet as
Dave charged in.

"Mike, I've
just seen that copper running off down the street!"

"Yes, she
bloody well escaped!"

"Blimey!"

"Release
Belinda and bend her over the bar," Mike ordered the chef. "I'm
going to commit the most vile and obscene acts imaginable upon her
naked body!"

"Mike, if...
if you..." his ex-wife stammered as Dave released her hands.

"If I
what?"

"The police
will be here any minute! You're only making matters worse for
yourself."

"Let me worry
about that!"

Some Sunday
morning it was turning out to be! Mike reflected as Dave bent
Belinda's struggling body over the frame and tied her wrists to her
lower legs. He was done for, he reckoned, so he might as well be
hung for a sheep as for a lamb and go the whole hog with the bloody
woman. Suddenly remembering Harold, he wondered whether the man
would meet with his death as he left the hotel. Whatever your
problems, there's always someone worse off. The worst thing that
could happen to himself was several years in prison. The worst for
Harold - an eternity in the graveyard!

Moving behind
Belinda as Dave backed away, Mike scrutinized her rounded buttocks,
her hairless vaginal lips protruding between her smooth thighs.
Waving his hand at the door, intimating Dave leave, he grabbed the
cat of nine tails from the corner of the room. Standing behind his
prisoner as she looked up at him from between her parted legs, her
green eyes wide with fear, he raised the whip above his head.

"Mike,
please!" she begged shakily. "Please, let's talk about this."

"OK," he
grinned, lowering the whip and dragging the leather tails across
her unblemished buttocks. "Flagellation is as old as the hills.
Many women enjoy a good thrashing, it turns them on."

"I mean talk
about the situation, not whipping!"

"I'd rather
talk about whipping!"

Kneeling
behind the trembling woman, a debauched idea manifesting, he
bundled up the leather tails and parted her buttocks. Pushing the
ends of the tails into her bottom-hole, he grinned wickedly as she
began gasping.

"Mike, please
don't!" she cried as he managed to push inch by inch of the tails
deep into her anal duct. "Oh, oh! Mike, please!"

"I'm going to
get all three feet of the tails up your bum, and then I'll shove
the wooden handle up your arse!"

"Mike, listen
to..."

"I don't want
to listen, Belinda," he returned ruthlessly as over a foot of the
thin leather tails coiled up inside her rectal sheath.

"I'm not a
policewoman, Mike."

"First you
are, then you're not, then you are... How does it feel? There must
be two feet of leather up you now."

"It doesn't
feel nice at all! Please, have some compassion!"

"Compassion?
You never showed me any compassion when we were married!"

"I did!"

"You used to
ration sex, use it as a weapon! Right, the tails are almost in, you
just wait until the handle goes in, too!"

To his great
disappointment Mike failed to accomplish his crude mission, Belinda
whimpering, relinquishing her futile pleas, as the handle hung from
her packed anal entrance, swinging obscenely from side to side.
Mike wouldn't be too harsh on her, she was sure, as he moved across
the room. After all, he wasn't an animal - was he?

Gazing at him
through her legs as he settled on the floor behind her, a body
massager in his hand, she assumed he was going to take her to
orgasm. Parting her fleshy vaginal lips, he pushed and twisted the
body of the massager against her exposed cunny hole, trying to push
the whole thing inside.

"Mike!" she
cried as her cuntal portal yielded. "Please, you won't get that in
me!"

"It's almost
there!" he chuckled, pushing the device against her defeated
muscles. "There, it's gone in!"

"No, please!"
she begged as he switched the vibrator on, sending electrifying
sensations deep into her trembling pelvis. "Argh! Take it out!"

Securing the
massager with a length of rope tied around her waist, Mike rose to
admire his crude handiwork. The vibrator buzzing loudly, Belinda's
buttocks twitching as her anal sphincter rhythmically gripped the
leather tails, she was a pretty sight! Watching her sex juice spill
from her painfully opened vulva and run down the handle of the
massager, Mike decided to leave her while he went downstairs for a
drink.

"Count your
orgasms," he quipped, ensuring the vibrating plastic housing was
pressed hard against her exposed clitoris. "See how many times you
come while I'm downstairs."

"Ah, ah! Oh,
God, no! Mike, please don't leave me like this!"

"Why not?
Don't you like it?"

"Ah! I'm,
I'm..."

"Coming? Good,
that'll be number one. Don't lose count, will you?"

Making his way to the lift, he pondered on his ex-wife's
predicament. She'd enjoy the many enforced orgasms, and then she'd
enjoy the cane. Emerging from the lift, he wandered towards the
desk to switch the monitor on. Might as well video Buggered
Belinda, he mused.
I could do a roaring
trade in copies when I'm inside
.

"Ah, Mr Hunt!"
Inspector Dickwipe grinned as he entered the building.

Oh, shit!
"Inspector, what can I do
for you?"

"I've come to
see Miss Painter, I believe she booked in earlier this
morning."

"Miss Painter?
No, there's no one of that name staying here."

"Are you
sure?"

"Positive. No
one's booked in today, I can assure you."

"That's odd.
Didn't she come here asking for a room?"

"No, I'm sorry."
That's fucked your
plan
. "Have you heard anything from Harold
Gloom and Wendy Widegroin, Inspector?"

"Why would I
hear anything from them?"

"Well, I... I
don't know."

"Excuse me for
a moment," Dickwipe said, pulling his radio from his pocket as his
name was called. "Dickwipe here, go ahead."

"Can you get
back to the station, Sir?"

"Why, what's
up?"

"There's
someone here to see you - someone you'll be very surprised to
see."

"Who?"

"Er... I'd
better not say over the PR."

"OK, I'll be
right with you." Slipping the radio back into his pocket, the
inspector smiled at Mike. "I'll be in touch, Mr Hunt."

"Yes, yes
OK."

"Good
day."

"Good day,
Inspector."

This was it,
Mike knew. Wendy Widegroin had obviously gone running to Pox Green
police station to reveal all. "Bloody fucking hell!" he breathed,
flopping into his chair. "I'm bloody well done for! Fucked,
even!"

"Mike," Goldie
smiled sheepishly, her pretty face peering round the kitchen door.
"I'm doing chicken for Sunday lunch. The new cooker... should
flames come out of the oven?"

There'd been
no word from Inspector Dickwipe by the following morning. Mike was
positive that the surprise visitor to the police station had been
Widegroin, so why hadn't the hotel been raided? he pondered. Were
the pigs plotting a huge night raid to catch the girls and punters
writhing in ecstatic debauchery on the fourth floor? Whatever they
were up to, no doubt he'd find out soon enough, he decided.

Her naked body
tethered overnight to the bed, Belinda had protested wildly,
demanding her freedom and spitting expletives at him as he'd taken
her eggs and bacon for breakfast. She must have enjoyed dozens of
enforced shuddering climaxes during the hour the vibrator had been
stuffed up her wet fanny, although she'd denied having the merest
hint of an orgasm. As she had the delicious, lewd, anal sensations
she'd experienced as her perverse ex-spouse had eased the
three-foot leather tails from her sated bum-hole.

Mike realized
that he'd have to set her free, but not for a while. After all, she
hadn't experienced the delights of a damned good, naked buttock
caning yet! He'd release her when Widegroin returned with the
troops, he decided. Or when he'd finished having his wicked fun
with Belinda, whichever came sooner - Widegroin, knowing his
luck!

Ideally, he
needed a hold over Belinda, something to even the odds. Blackmail
was the answer, he mused as he leaned on the desk. But blackmail
her over what? To have her captured on video tape with one man
screwing her hot cunt and another man fucking her tight arsehole
was easy enough. But how to depict her pure sexual ecstasy when, no
doubt, she'd be screaming and swearing? The blue boys at Scotland
Yard would derive immense enjoyment from watching their attractive
colleague endure a double screw. That was the perfect way to
blackmail her, he decided. But she'd have to been seen as a willing
player in the sordid act.

"Ah, Trudie,"
Mike grinned as the busty brunette approached reception in her
black microskirt and tight-fitting white blouse. "Have you done the
rooms?"

"They're all
empty, apart from a sales rep in room fifteen, and he's leaving
today. Oh, there is one other guest."

"Who?"

"Harold
Gloom."

"Christ, I
thought he'd gone?"

"He came back
because he thought someone was following him."

"The would-be
assassin, no doubt. God, what a bloody mess! OK, Dave's cleaned the
cooker up after Goldie's fire yesterday, Mrs Gloom's gone,
Widegroin... I don't know where she is or what she's up to - the
tight-cunted bitch! I should have shaved her fanny."

"I must give
my pussy a good shave. By the way, Goldie's booked four clients for
this evening. A bunch of randy businessmen, by all accounts."

"Good, more
money! Bloody hell, I hope that prick Dickwipe doesn't plan to raid
us tonight."

"So do I,
mate! Oh, there's one other thing - the colonel won't come out of
his room."