Betrayed Chapter 9

Inside, I was screaming. The knee ploy was useless at this angle, unless I could spin on his arm really fast. Godzilla here could crush me like a grape. On the other hand, if I timed it right, I could skewer his foot with my stiletto heel and pin it to the floor, right through that ultra-sheik, ultra-expensive, ultra-thin Bruno Magli. I'll have you singing in the upper registers yet, Butch.

Somehow, I didn't think the waiters were hiding out in the stairwell. Then again, I hadn't bought the champagne ploy for an instant. As soon as the fire door closed behind us, I spun to face him, expecting a mouthful of fist. Instead, I got a mouthful of... mouth – and tongue. My arms flailed about ineffectually as I was pinned to the wall.

Oh, no you don't, you sick sonofabitch! You are NOT gonna have your way with me, THEN out me to half the city of Chicago! Just lean into me a little bit more and I will FedEx my reply; absolutely, positively guaranteed delivery....

He got a handful of tittie, massaging my rapidly-hardening nipple with thumb and forefinger. That brought everything into soft focus. My struggles dissipated like so much dust in the wind. My mind was screeching at this ultimate treachery. What chance did I have to beat him at this dangerous game when my own body betrayed me?

His other hand was hovering around his crotch, doing... I couldn't tell what. Then that hand took my hand and pulled it forward. Oh... my... dear... sweet... Jesus! Godzilla is right; this guy is a monster! I can't begin to explain it; Auto-Pilot kicked in at that exact moment. I sank to my knees and had him unzipped and exposed – with difficulty – a few moments later. I actually made him back up half a step so I could face it properly. I softly encircled it with my right hand and ever-so-gently stroked its length, all the way to the base. Holding my hand there, I realized with detached awe my small hand covered little more than a quarter of its total length!

Don't even ask what was going through my mind as I inhaled the bulbous, purplish head. At that point, my thought processes had all the coherence of a bowl of alphabet soup. That was the only way I could have gotten that slippery snake down my throat. As I sucked him, one lucid thought gradually came to the forefront: