Pure Paradise (10 page)

E
llen, the licensed manicurist, soaked and dried the client’s feet, sloughed off rough skin from the bottoms, clipped her toenails, trimmed the cuticles, and buffed her toenails to a nice smooth shine. Her component of the procedure was complete. Wearing a gratuitous smile, the manicurist accepted a tip and exited the room.

Sitting behind her desk, Milan sipped cappuccino as she stared at the monitor. As if waiting for the next scene in a titillating film, she leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen.

Moments later, Shin, a handsome young Asian, came into view. Shirtless and flaunting a heavily muscled torso, he bedazzled the client with dancing, flirty eyes and then bestowed her with a gleaming smile that any fool should have been able to interpret as insincere and practiced.

Despite their differences in age, physical attractiveness, and muscle mass, the client—a stalking, middle-aged “cougar”—was flattered and ready to pounce. She patted her stiff, newly coifed hair as if she possessed some indefinable inner sexy that Shin would find irresistible.

Kneeling before her, he took her foot in his strong hands. Reverently, he gazed at the arched upper part of her foot and
then kissed the smooth sole. Shin squeezed lotion into the palm of his hand and began to massage the client’s foot, seductively inserting a lotion-covered finger in the spaces between her toes, creating a squishy sound that mimicked sex.

The fortunate beneficiary of the erotic foot massage appeared to be sliding out of the chair in ecstasy.

Seated across from Milan, Sumi beamed. “Well?”

“I’m impressed. Remind me to start hanging out in China Town.”

“Shin is Korean!” Sumi was fired up, her small nostrils flared. “You’re so narrow-minded. All Asians are not Chinese.”

Milan sighed. She hadn’t deliberately dissed the Koreans, but how the hell was she supposed to tell the difference? One of these days she was going to tell Sumi that her flaring nostrils was totally unattractive and her sensitivity regarding the Asian half of her heritage was turning her into a terrible bore. But not right now. Sumi was too angry to be reasonable and something hot was occurring on the monitor.

Simultaneously, Milan’s mouth and that of the client, who’d been getting her foot massaged, dropped open. Milan was gaping in shock, and the client was taking Shin’s dick inside hers.

“What the hell is going on? Are you trying to sabotage my business? As you well know, sexual acts between a client and a member of my staff is considered prostitution!”

“Not in this instance,” Sumi said, pointing to the screen.

“She’s sucking his dick and that is not acceptable. Go in there and put a stop to it right now!”

“Calm down, Milan. There’s been no money exchanged between Shin and the client. She tipped Phoebe. He’s a magnificent male specimen and you can’t blame her for wanting a taste of his virility.”

“Oh my God!” Milan covered her mouth in shock as she witnessed Shin swiftly extract his cock from between the client’s collagen-filled lips. Aiming downward, he spurted cum all over both her feet, then continued giving the foot massage, now working his semen between the woman’s curling toes.

“Kinky, huh?” Sumi smiled widely, obviously no longer feeling the sting of Milan’s racial slur. “We’re touting Shin’s semen as a natural skin softener,” she added proudly. “He’ll be assisting with facials.” Sumi giggled. “He’ll also be helping the shampoo girl out.”

Milan held up her hand. “Don’t tell me…Shin provides hair conditioning as well?”

Sumi nodded. “He’s multi-talented.”

“You didn’t mention the many uses of his cum when you displayed the new Pure Paradise specialties. That’s sort of underhanded, Sumi. I don’t appreciate being left out of the loop,” Milan said, cutting an eye at the monitor.

“I wasn’t being underhanded. When I showed you the new website, I wasn’t aware of Shin’s many abilities. You haven’t been exactly accessible lately,” Sumi said accusingly and then folded her arms.

“You’re right,” Milan conceded. “I’ve been going through a major issue with Maxwell.”

Knowing Maxwell was the money man behind Pure Paradise, Sumi’s eyes narrowed warily.

“The problem’s been resolved,” Milan assured her. Bored with Shin’s shenanigans, she clicked off the monitor.

“Thank goodness. Listen,” Sumi went on, “since we posted the specialties on the website, we’ve attracted more clients than staff can accommodate.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. There’s a long waiting list.”

“That’s not good.” Milan shook her head.

“Why not? We’re in demand. How’s that not good?”

Milan pondered briefly. “I don’t like the idea of losing money. Tell your assistants that they weren’t hired to sit on their asses all day.” Milan shot Sumi an evil look. “Nor were they hired to titty fuck during working hours. This is not a non-profit organization. Tell those two bitches to pound the pavements and find me some more good men.”

“Okay, I’ll have them get on it ASAP.” Suddenly, Sumi’s dark eyes lit with glee. “So, how’d you like it?”

“Like what?” Milan asked, now distracted by thoughts of Hilton.

He’d given her a quick sideways glance when she stepped outside, swathed in French couture. That look spoke volumes. It assured her that she looked more stunning than ever, but most important, there was hunger in his furtive gaze. He missed her na-na and could no longer fake it. That tough guy routine last night had been merely an act.
Ha!
He couldn’t wait to get in her bed. Tonight, she intended to fuck him senseless. On top, she would ride him like he was a wild stallion, humping him hard and fast until the back of his head banged against the headboard.

Spanking Maxwell last night had given her a hell of a rush. She felt powerful. So very dominant.

Hilton didn’t know who he was dealing with. Showing him no mercy, she would fuck him into a state of semi-consciousness. Milan felt a mild quiver as butterflies tickled her insides.

“Earth calling Milan,” Sumi said, waving her hand in front of Milan’s face.

Snatched out of her wonderful reverie, Milan’s eyes bore into Sumi’s. “What?” she snapped.

“How’d you like the dungeon?”

Milan twisted her face in annoyance. “I didn’t look at it yet.”

“You told me that you needed it right away. I worked like a damn mule, finding all that equipment and then tracking down workers to set it up with such short notice.”

Milan shrugged indifferently. “I’ll look at it tonight. And by the way, I’m going to need a competent person to show me how the stuff works.”

“Can’t Veronique—”

She flung Sumi a contemptuous look, cutting her off. “Don’t mention that hunchback bitch’s name ever again. Now, tell your assistants to get to work.”

Sumi rose. Surprisingly, she didn’t sulk. Gathering her purse and notepad, she showed no signs of hurt feelings. In fact, she looked visibly relieved.

Sumi claimed her affection for Milan was true and deep. “I love you, Milan,” she’d proclaimed numerous times. Once, she even went so far as to suggest that they fly to Vermont or Massachusetts and join hands in same-sex marriage. Now, Milan suspected that Sumi had an emotional connection with Lily, but pretended the relationship was purely sexual.

Fuck you, you cheating whore. Go ahead, rush out of here so that silicone bitch can give you a titty fuck.

What a deceitful slut Sumi had turned out to be. She deserved to be suspended from her work duties, demoted, or fired! She’d deal with Sumi’s unfaithfulness at a later date. Preoccupied with thoughts of getting Hilton back in her bed, Milan was forced to push thoughts of revenge aside.

Milan checked the time. 4:15. She turned the monitor on and clicked to the spanking room and there she was; Mrs. Tamburro, the cheating spouse, pacing nervously. Her stupid husband would have been better off taking her over his knee. A spanking from his loving hand, rather than bringing out her inner freak, may have filled her with outrage and curbed her adulterous affairs.

But her session with BodySlam had introduced her to her submissive side and had kindled a passion she hadn’t known she possessed. Now, she wanted more. Behind her husband’s back, she’d been calling Pure Paradise daily, pleading for a secret session with BodySlam.

Feeling no loyalty toward a client who was too cowardly to whip his own wife, and not being one to turn down money, Milan had finally gotten the opportunity to whisper in BodySlam’s ear. She’d made him an offer that he couldn’t refuse.

“Come work for me or I’ll have you deported. You’ll find yourself on the first boat back to Haiti.”

If Veronique had planned on keeping BodySlam joined at her hip, she should have married the illegal alien and made him a citizen of the United States.

Dressed in her usual business suit, sensible pumps, and upsweep hair-do, Mrs. Tamburro was rocking the sexy librarian look. Wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip, Mrs. Tamburro looked terror-stricken.

From her own experience with Gerard, Milan knew all too well that fear was part of the turn-on for a woman who enjoyed being submissive.

T
he door burst open and banged against the wall. Mrs. Tamburro flinched at the sound. Also startled, Milan nearly jumped out of her chair. “Damn!” she muttered as she reached for the remote and then turned the volume down.

BodySlam was not wearing the leather executioner’s hood. This time, he arrived with tribal paint smeared across his face, his shaved head adorned with an ostrich-feathered headdress. Wearing a buckskin loincloth, leather wristbands, and a saber-toothed neckpiece dangling at his chest, BodySlam looked like an African warrior, ferocious and primitive.

He gave Mrs. Tamburro a cold smile and then yanked her toward him. She screeched as he swept her up into his bulging, muscled arms and stalked over to a majestic purple leather gothic throne. He situated himself on the seat of the throne and then released his captive.

Mrs. Tamburro tumbled out of his arms.

Milan winced at the sound of the woman’s slight body as it hit the floor. She peered intently at the screen, afraid the poor woman who lay in a tiny heap was injured. She doubted if incurring broken bones or open wounds would encourage Mrs. Tamburro to continue writing checks to Pure Paradise.

Milan wondered if he resented being snatched from Veronique. She shrugged indifferently, deciding he was just being true to his sadistic nature.

BodySlam reached down and grabbed a handful of blond hair, undoing the neatly pinned hairstyle as he wrenched her head upward. Mrs. Tamburro’s gleaming eyes did not indicate pain and Milan’s fear of losing her client’s business was quickly assuaged.

“So, you want BodySlam to discipline you with another spanking?” he growled.

Milan typically sneered at anyone who referred to himself in third person but somehow BodySlam pulled it off, effectively making his staged alter ego a credible, fear-invoking, and separate sadistic entity.

“Yes,” Mrs. Tamburro whimpered. Her body trembled, her blue eyes widened with fear.

“Do you want more of my fancy artwork imprinted on your ass?”

“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I want,” Mrs. Tamburro said in a voice that was husky with lust.

BodySlam tightened his grasp on the tuft of disheveled hair, giving her head a hard shake and causing her to give a small cry of pain. “This time, you’ll have to earn it,” he said in his lilting accent. He pulled his loincloth to the side, revealing a full, dark scrotum. “Lick,” he ordered, wrenching Mrs. Tamburro’s head upward.

Her eyes warily flicked from BodySlam’s frowning face to his crotch. Her pink tongue slipped past her thin lips and then brushed against his hairy sac, tentatively at first and then with ardor, lavishly licking as if his ebony flesh held the tasty rich
ness of Haitian cocoa. Loud tongue lashes made Milan squirm in her seat, overcome with a strong and sudden sexual yearning.

With his balls sufficiently licked, BodySlam pulled the cloth back farther, freeing his long, hard member from the confining loin cloth.

Milan sucked in air. Her heartbeat quickened. BodySlam had a monster-sized dick. It was a gorgeous sight, but much too big to suck or fuck without great discomfort. Milan stared at the screen intently. Mrs. Tamburro stretched her mouth open and sucked in the head of the coal-black sex organ. BodySlam held the back of her head and rammed in several inches of dick.

Mrs. Tamburro’s blue eyes watered and she made choking sounds as he mercilessly pumped his impossibly large dick deeply inside her mouth. With her eyes now squeezed shut, her head flung back, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, trying to accommodate his impossible girth and length. BodySlam grasped the sides of her flushed cheeks as he pumped his huge midnight cock into her gaping mouth.

“Suck it,” he growled.

Mrs. Tamburro attempted to pucker up, but her thin lips were stretched taut.

“I said, suck it!” BodySlam rose from the throne, clutching Mrs. Tamburro’s head and holding it pressed into his crotch. Her body sagged like a rag doll, her eyes bulged pitifully as he thrust and shoved his thickness as far as it would go, making her gag and heave.

Milan’s eyes were glued to the monitor.
Oh
! Unable to bear much more of the torturously sexy image of Mrs. Tamburro’s mouth being plundered with BodySlam’s big, brutal penis, Milan opened a desk drawer, scrounging around in search of a
vibrator or dildo. She came up empty. Where the hell were her sex toys?

Her eyes darted back to the screen; she rocked back and forth in her seat, trying to soothe her sexual yearning.

BodySlam’s outrageously big dick disappeared inside Mrs. Tamburro’s mouth. The crown of his dick pushed into her throat while his nut sac knocked against her chin.

“I’m coming, bitch. You better swallow every drop,” he growled, humping hard and causing tears to fill her eyes and slide down her cheeks. Unfortunately, the tears that trailed down intermingled with the white lust that spilled from the corners of her mouth.

Furious that she’d disobeyed, BodySlam pulled his throbbing cock from her lips, held it firmly, and aimed it like a weapon toward her face. His body jerked as he shot out the remaining jets of jism into Mrs. Tamburro’s horrified face.

He grabbed her by the arm and flopped down in the seat of the throne, then turned her over his lap, yanking up her skirt so violently Milan could hear it ripping at the seams.

Frightened by the intensity of his anger, Mrs. Tamburro instinctively put up a fight, trying to wrench herself free. But pinned down by his powerful hold, she went limp in defeat, whimpering pitifully as he slowly pulled her panties down.

Gently, he placed a huge hand on her small white rump. His hand was so big, it completely covered her ass. He fondled and caressed her buttocks, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. Teasingly, he trailed a thick finger down the crack of her ass and wriggled it inside the crevice. He tickled her anus, giving her visible shivers, making her moan with pleasure. Then, quite suddenly, he gave her ass a painful twisting squeeze. Her lithe
lower body squirmed and bucked. The more Mrs. Tamburro struggled, the angrier BodySlam became.

Finally, the pain-seeking adulteress took a deep steadying breath as she awaited the next powerful impact of his hand of steel connecting with her tenderized ass.

He applied a flurry of sharp smacks to Mrs. Tamburro’s behind, intensifying the blows until his palm prints completely decorated her ass. Twisting and screaming, kicking her feet in desperation, Mrs. Tamburro appeared to be trying to swim away from the pain. Milan noted with interest that the white flesh of the client’s thighs was a stark contrast to her fiery red ass.

“I want you to thank me,” BodySlam commanded irrationally.

Milan shifted her position, leaning forward, riveted to the screen.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Tamburro quickly responded.

Milan gasped when she noticed BodySlam’s big hand reaching for a cane that was conveniently propped against the wall near the throne. She held her breath as if waiting for the next scene in a horror movie.

Taking charge of his victim, he held her in place with a large strong hand and then swiftly brought the cane crashing down onto her cutely rounded and welt-ridden derriere.

“Ahhh! Oh my God. Please stop,” Mrs. Tamburro screamed.

“That wasn’t a proper show of gratitude,” he said in an icy tone.

“What should I say?” Mrs. Tamburro asked, crying and shaking. “Tell me. I’ll say whatever you want me to.”

“You must always say, ‘Thank you, Master,’ with every whipping. Do you understand?” He twisted his lips into a cruel smile before delivering another brutal blow.

“Thank you, Master,” she shouted. Thrashing in anguish,
she struggled to free herself from his pitiless hold, but couldn’t.

“Don’t fight me,” he growled. “Take the pain. Learn to love it.”

“I caaaaaaan’t,” she screamed. Somehow, she managed to raise her torso and was able to turn her head. Spotting the object of her torture, she shrank back in horror. She gawked at the wooden flogging instrument and then gasped in shock that he’d been using a crude cane to beat her ass. “I beg you, Master. Please don’t hit me again with that thing. It’s too painful. I can’t bear it. I came to you for a regular spanking. You’re going to kill me with that thing.” She squirmed and writhed uncontrollably.

Simultaneously, Milan writhed in sexual agony. Mrs. Tamburro’s pain and fear was making her pussy too hot to ignore. Without conscious planning, her longest finger worked its way into her feminine opening, snaking and winding, seeking to provide sexual pleasure.

Milan hadn’t realized that her clenched inner thighs were smeared white and sticky. She yearned for an orgasm. Requiring immediate assistance, she reached for the phone to call Sumi.
Oh fuck that
. She retracted her hand. Sumi’s pussy snaps were pleasurable to her clit, but right now she needed something really hard inside her soaking wet cunt.

Royce?
Sure, his wide tongue curled into a thick, dick-like structure; it probed deeply and could reach the right spot, but her pussy needed a good ramming with something much more solid and with more girth.

Lily!
Oh, yeah, she could get into a seriously freaky situation with that talented and well-endowed little freak.

She snatched up the receiver and pushed a button. “Sumi,” she said breathlessly, “send Lily to my office.” She realized that
her gasping breath communicated her sexual excitement but she couldn’t help it.

“Lily?” Sumi asked nervously.

“Mmm-hmm,” Milan moaned.

She’s….” Sumi paused. “Uh, Lily’s working on…” she stammered, trying to delay the inevitable surrender of her new sex toy.

“I want her,” Milan hissed. “Do you understand me?”

“But—”

“But, nothing. Tell her I said to get her ass in my office, fake titty in hand.”

“Okay, I’ll send her,” Sumi mumbled helplessly. Then she gulped. “I really like her, Milan. You…you’re not going to keep her for yourself, are you?”

“I’m the one who pays Lily’s salary. So stop meddling in my affairs. Like I said, send her to my office right now! I’m horny, dammit!”

Milan lay on the settee with her legs spread. Lily kneeled and considerately lowered her mouth over Milan’s vagina, prepared to provide oral lubrication before inserting her big, flexible boob.

Grunting and writhing with need, Milan inched up, opening her legs even wider, giving the assistant better access to her opened cunt. Lily’s tongue flicked out. A look of surprise came over her face when she realized Milan was already wet. She licked between Milan’s legs, hungrily lapping the tasty glob of stickiness that had been pooling ever since BodySlam had commenced to smacking Mrs. Tamburro’s ass.

No wonder Sumi was hooked on Lily. The girl was a phenomenal pussy eater, and she murmured endearingly as she sipped in streams of Milan’s hot passion.

“I want this to be special,” Lily mewed, and cupped and squeezed one of her breasts.

Taken completely off guard, Milan watched in shocked fascination as Lily began rubbing her boob between both hands, molding the pliant flesh until it became elongated like a bulky cock. Milan thought she’d died and gone to heaven when Lily smoothed out her nipple and sculpted her large areola into a sloping contour that was an exact replica of Big Hammer, the crown of Hilton’s enormous dick.

Lily stroked Milan’s mons. She felt herself ripen at the young assistant’s touch. Pussy juice drizzled as Lily rubbed the firm tip of her titty up and down the soft flesh between Milan’s plump feminine lips. She felt Lily’s nipple begin to harden and knot as it teased the opening of her vagina. Milan shuddered and moaned with pleasure when Lily’s areola crossed the threshold of her inner chamber, followed by her phallic breast, which she plunged inside Milan as far as it would go.

Responding wantonly to the unexpected sensation of the superb titty-fuck, Milan made guttural sounds, winding her hips to meet Lily’s hand-held deep thrusts.

“Oh, yes. Fuck me, bitch. Tear this pussy up. Go deeper, baby. Get all up in it. Give me some more of that long, big-ass titty-dick. Goddamn, goddamn. Girl, you fuck like a man.” She spread her lean legs wider, making her vaginal depth more accessible.

Lily pushed her breast in to the hilt and then slid in and out at a sensual, rhythmic pace. “Feel good?” Lily asked unnecessarily as she worked Milan over.

“Yes!” Milan shouted. “Damn right. You know your shit is
good. It’s better than dick,” Milan proclaimed and then felt slightly embarrassed at that admission. Was Lily really fucking her better than Hilton?
No!
But fuck it, the titty was so good, it had her talking shit that she didn’t mean.

No wonder Sumi was so possessive. Lily had her cussing lewdly, and bucking upward as she met that big titty thrust for thrust. Her fingers splayed and then curled, groping thin air. The assistant was giving it to her so good, Milan threw her legs around Lily’s back, pulled her closer, taking in the nipple and total breast, grinding feverishly against Lily’s chest as she readied herself to bust a big-ass nut.

Deep in the throes of an orgasm, she screamed in passion. Forgetting what or who she was fucking, she drew Lily closer as if trying to squeeze the very life out of the young woman.

“Oh, God!” Lily cried, her high-pitched voice reminding Milan that she was fucking a woman.

But in her mindless and depraved state, Milan didn’t think about the unfeasible act of warm cum squirting out of a woman’s boob and filling her cunt. Nothing mattered; nothing made sense. “Yeah, cum for me, baby,” Milan urged, gyrating lewdly against Lily’s chest.

“Let me go!” Lily fought to pull out, but Milan wouldn’t let her go. She couldn’t. Her pussy was still clenching and needed to remain filled with titty-dick as her massive climax reached its peak.

Finally, spent, Milan unclenched her legs. Lily bolted upright, holding an injured and limp tit.

Milan looked at Lily in horror. “What the hell happened?” She grimaced at Lily’s flattened breast. It looked horrible and lifeless, like a deflated basketball.

Tears spilled down Lily’s face. “You were too rough! You ruptured my implant; it’s leaking,” she cried.