“Time to wake up, Ms. Valentine.”
Holly stirred from her sleep and tried to sit up. The ropes holding her hands stopped her. Since she was an investigative reporter, this detail didn’t surprise her much. The number of times that she awoke to find herself tied up was starting to exceed the number of times she woke up without being restrained. It was an occupational hazard.
The reporter did a quick inventory before responding to the voice. Yep, she was completely naked. Yes, her wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of her hotel bed. Oh dear, her breasts felt tender as if someone had felt her up while stripping her. Bad guys usually don’t molest her tits unless they plan for her to be dead later so she won’t press charges. This might be a serious attempt on her life as opposed to the half-ass attempts that she dealt with so frequently.
“I doubt that you know who I am,” the man standing beside her said. He was a young man, barely thirty yet he had all the arrogance and self importance of an asshole twice his age.
“You’re Carl Squeezestone, chief financial officer for the Conquest Banking,” Holly said. “You are currently renegotiating which bank gets to secretly run the SEC and determine who gets to defraud the stock market for the next two years.”
Mr. Squeezestone frowned. “It appears that you have achieved more unexpected progression in your investigation than we forecasted. Your untimely expose into our affairs might result in unfortunate down trending in our financial forecast.”
After three years of covering banker scandals, Holly understood banker talk better than most people. She just refused to speak it herself.
“Yeah, you guys will be totally fucked,” Holly said.
“On the contrary, you are about to be downsized,” Mr. Squeezestone said. “Notice the pistols that have been mounted on your hotel bed frame. Each rope connects a limb to trigger. As soon as you move any subsidiary appendage in any direction, you will trigger a penalty as the pistol fires. The pistols are aimed at your torso, which will result in a slow and painful downgrading of your circulatory capitol flow.”
“Ouch, just leaving me to bleed to death,” Holly said. “Oh well, guess I am not moving for several hours until the maids come in to change the sheets.”
Mr. Squeezestone smiled like a man with a golden parachute. “That is why I am strapping this device on. Do you recognize it? It is the Von Madd Pussy-Licker 11. It adheres to your cunt and leverages the state of the art animatronics tongue to stimulate your arousal growth in a perpetual upwards trend. It will be impossible for you to not move and therefore, impossible to not be perforated with unexpected lead infusions.”
“Well, shit,” Holly said.
Mr. Squeezestone leaned over and held the plate sized device over her neatly trimmed pussy. Small robot tentacles reached out to her waist and thighs. The Pussy-Licker 11 jumped out of her hand and sealed itself over her cunt. The metal tentacles tightened around her for a snug fit. A bright pink power button was on the outside of the Pussy-Licker 11 but with Holly’s hands tied; there was no way that she was reaching it.
“Goodbye, Ms. Valentine,” Mr. Squeezestone said. “I look forward to reading about your perverse bondage masturbation death in the papers tomorrow. In fact, I think I will write the article myself.”
He pressed the power button for the Pussy-Licker 11. Holly was going to respond with a clever retort about his sexual practices with small animals but she felt the amazing animated tongue of the device and all witty repartee died in her throat as she moaned.
Mr. Squeezestone smiled and stuffed her panties into her mouth. Holly watched as he walked out of her room. He didn’t even bother to hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. Well of course not, Holly realized. He wanted her bondage shot body to be found in the morning.
“Well fuck,” Holly tried to say but the panties in her mouth turned it into a “Whh ffk”. She was in trouble this time. It was a clever arrangement though to be honest, shooting her in her sleep would have been smarter. She understood why she was in an elaborate trap. Mr. Squeezestone was a banker and a wall street trader, he probably couldn’t even think in simple A to B plans. That was her one advantage.
The Pussy-Licker 11 lived up to its name and did something wonderful to Holly’s sex. She trembled and had an incredible urge to reach down and pull it tighter against her.
She stopped herself after her hands moved an inch. Holly waited for the shots but the pistols didn’t fire.
Now she knew that she had at least an inch of give. Holly didn’t know what good it would do her, but it was something.
She tried to look at her body to see if there was anything she could use. Her large breasts obstructed most of her view. Holly said a silent prayer of thanks that Mr. Squeezestone didn’t get really creative and apply nipple clamps of some sort.
Past her freckled breasts, she could barely see the Pussy-Licker 11 but she sure as hell could feel it. Fuck, now it was doing some sort of circular motion. It was amazing what they could do with sex toys these days. One day she was sure it would kill her.
Her long bare legs were stretched out and secured with thick rope. She had a really good view of the pistols at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t an expert on guns but she could tell that these were the kinds of guns that punched messy holes in people rather than neatly bypassing important arteries.
Yeah, she was fucked.
The Pussy-Licker 11 began to lap at her sex. It reminded her of an inappropriate dog or a drunken college student. It was used all of the tongue to lick from the bottom of her cunt to the top. It was wet too. The damn device must provide its own simulated saliva. It was fucking perfect.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Holly tried to think of an escape plan. It was still night, so it would be hours before a maid came. She could usually twist and pull herself out of most bondage but pulling and twisting would kill her here. Holly rapidly ran out of ideas.
Holly’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that her hips had been moving for the last two minutes. She had been humping against the Pussy-Licker 11 without even thinking about it. The redhead reporter forced her hips to stop and bit down on the panties in her mouth as the Pussy-Licker 11 kept licking.
Holly moaned. Not moving was worse. It was as if the device interpreted her lack of movement as encouragement to try harder. The mechanical tongue was picking up speed and doing gyrations that no human mouth could attempt. Erotic science was going to get her off and when it did, she was going to twist and writhe before the speeding bullets made her twist and writhe for entirely different reasons.
Wait, Holly remembered an article she wrote back for her high school paper. A cheerleader and a jock had died in a freak motel bed accident. The cheerleader had tried a running mount onto the jock and the bed had shattered. They had died from the freak shrapnel from the splintering wood. During her research, Holly had discovered that most beds in hotels were notoriously badly constructed as they were bought in bulk from men’s prisons. If they were bought from women’s prisons, the bed would be sturdier because women can build the shit out of a bed.
It gave Holly an idea. Maybe she could pull on her arms and legs at the same time and destroy the badly made bed. The pistols would be dislodged and maybe she could roll out of the way at the same time.
The only problem is that the cheerleader in Holly’s high school had destroyed the bed with a running start. Holly was flat on her back getting her pussy eaten. She was in good shape but not that good of shape. She would need some sort of advantage.
The Pussy-Licker 11 moved synthetic lips that Holly didn’t know it had. Lifelike lips nibble and kissed her cunt. The reporter trembled with willpower as she fought to keep from humping the machine.
Holly’s clenched eyes popped open. That was it. She had all the strength she needed if it was powered by an orgasm. She just had to have one of those bed shattering orgasms that broke the glasses of boyfriends.
She just had to have it without moving prematurely.
Holly waited. The Pussy-Licker 11 licked deeper into her. The redhead fought to stay as still as possible as the machine licked where only cocks had reached before. Her nipples tingled as the device took simulated breathes inside her. Her feet were still but her toes curled as the sextoy bit her gently.
The ropes trembled. Holly bit down on the panties and willed herself not to move. She felt her body tensing like a spring but she couldn’t release just yet.
The Pussy-Licker 11 found her clitoris. Just like a real man, it took awhile to find. The simulated tongue attacked her clitoris with speed and efficiency.
All of Holly’s control melted. She was going to climax. She might also die but right now she didn’t give a fuck. She wanted to come. She needed to come. Dying and living was something for later.
The Pussy-Licker 11 kept licking her clitoris as her hips rose. The metal arms hung on as Holly’s body twisted and spun on the bed. The mechanical tongue vibrated against her as her arms pulled down and her legs pulled up. The superior construction of the sextoy clung to her sex as the inferior construction of the motel bed shattered.
The pistols fired.
The pistol attached to her right arm fell and shot out the window.
The pistol attached to her left arm spun and shot the television.
The pistol attached to her right leg turned and shot the corner of the bed.
The pistol attached to her left leg didn’t fire at all because Mr. Squeezestone forgot to turn off the safety. Stock brokers could be sloppy that way.
Holly fell off the bed. Her hands were still tied but the rope was completely slack. She reached between her thighs and hesitated.
She came twice more before turning the machine off.