Blonde Bait Ch. 02

Story Info
She returns from retirement
1.9k words
3.97
22.7k
3

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 08/24/2013
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cckuay
cckuay
266 Followers

I saw the Audi's white reverse light from the corner of my eye. Driving against the one way arrow in the narrow parking lot, I braked hard and stopped within one car length of the Audi. The other driver, an elderly woman in her seventies, froze and shot me a nasty look. I backed up slowly, a few more feet, enough for the Audi to get out, but not enough for any other car to go around her to claim the coveted spot.

The L-shaped parking lot was next to the World of Beer. Although special alcoholic rates for Happy Hour would last another two hours, the outdoor bar was already packed with professionals from nearby corporate offices. Most of the patrons, in their late twenties and early thirties, hung around the outdoor area. Large screens, inclined at various angles and sprinkled like pepper on beef, stared down at the crowd. Only a handful of young men stared back at the screens, tuned to four ESPN channels, volume turned down, closed caption dancing across the bottom. One channel featured talking heads in suits, all three of them with shaved heads, angrily denouncing the poor performance of the Dolphins. ESPN2 had four men in dark suits, also with shaven heads and wide shoulders, crowding around the screen, smiling and exchanging high fives, referring to the players of Miami Heat as if they were Greek gods. The third channel displayed athletic legs clad in short skirts running around a clay tennis court. The remaining channel followed the slow-motion action of twenty-two European men chasing a white ball.

The older customers, mostly senior management types from the same corporations, occupied the comfortable booths indoors. In contrast to the outdoor crowd, the conversations inside were polite, the voices measured. Although I belonged demographically to the outdoor group, I sashayed purposefully inside.

"Wait Here to be Seated," a large sign near the entrance. I ignored the sign and skirted around the bar to the back. Conversations paused and eyebrows were raised at the sight of a woman wrapped in a black tube top floating inches from a pair of tight low-slung jeans, revealing a mid-section hardened by obsessive workouts. In my retirement, I had nothing else to do and worked out four hours a day, seven days a week.

The steel door next to the kitchen, painted black with red letters, announced that it was for "Restaurant Staff Only."€ I ignored the sign again and pushed through. Two flights of narrow wooden stairs inside led to the office above the restaurant. I had to point my stilettos sideways as I clicked my way to the top. A bulky man in a black T-shirt stretched across his chest stood up as I approached.

"Miss, this is a private area."

"I know. Your boss is expecting me."

He fished out his phone, typed a couple of words. After five seconds, the phone beeped. He squinted at the screen. Then he nodded.

"I am taking a picture of you. Routine security protocol." He held up his phone and snapped a picture. He sent the picture to his boss. A few more seconds. The phone beeped again.

I waited two seconds before pushing my thumb against his chest. "Dude, what are you waiting for? Open the fucking door."

"Lady, I have to search you. Again it is routine for anyone wanting to see my boss."

He was polite. I let him lift my arms to the side so they are spread out crucifixion style. I held them in mid air, shifting my weight from one leg to another. My top was so tight it was obvious there were no hidden objects. He focused on my jeans, moving his hands carefully one leg at a time.

"Please remove your footwear."€ He wanted to take away my stilettos. Smart man. They were sharp and could certainly be used as weapons.

"These shoes cost four hundred dollars and I do not remove them."

"Then this door remained locked."

His arms folded, he leaned against the steel door with an industrial strength lock. I could see a bunch of keys protruding from his pocket. Presumably, one of the keys would fit the lock.

I rested my palm on his shoulders. "Open the motherfucking door or you would regret it."

"Or else?" He smiled and looked me in the eye. With my heels we were eyeball to eyeball. Both of us did not blink for half a minute.

I decided to try something. Adjusting my top and pulling it down, I let him have a generous view of my cleavage. "What does it take for you to open that door?" I licked my lips.

"Sorry lady. You need to remove your spiked heels and let me keep them. I will not let you enter with those dangerous weapons."

I was not ready to give up. I pressed my body against him and reached out with one hand to cup his balls. But he firmly pushed me away.

"Lady, please go back downstairs and go home if you are unwilling to remove your stilettos."

Seduction did not work. I decided to try something else.

Pretending to walk away, I took one step away from him to have the necessary distance. Then I lifted my right foot and rotated two hundred and seventy degrees. The tip of my heels connected with the side of his torso, near his kidney. He doubled over with pain, which gave me the chance to hit his nose with my knee. He staggered back, using the heavy door as support. Whoever was inside must have heard the commotion.

He took a couple of seconds to regroup. Wiping off the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, he yelled, "€Bitch, you are going to pay for this."

He threw a punch aimed at my stomach. But it was so slow I easily sidestepped it. Catching his arm as it missed my body, I gripped his wrist with both of my hands, twisting it behind him and forcing him to turn around to face the door. I kicked the back of his knees so he sunk to the floor. As he was going down, I jabbed an elbow against the back of his head. His head bobbed forward and hit the metal, his bloodied forehead sliding down the door. To complete the job, I kick the side of his head with the sharp front of my heels, creating a fresh cut next to his left ear. That finally knocked him out.

Fishing the keys from his pocket, I unlocked the heavy lock and removed the chains. The door clicked open and a man was seated behind a large oval table inside.

"I knew my bodyguard had no chance against you." He laughed as he stood up to welcome me.

My heels clicked on the hardwood floor as I closed the distance of ten feet between us. He stood waiting, his hands in his pockets until I was two feet away. Then he took out a Glock and pointed it at my chest.

"Get down on your knees, slowly."

I obeyed.

"Keep looking ahead. Do not follow me as I walk."€

He walked in a wide circle around me, the gun steady.

"Cross your wrists behind you."

I heard the jangling sound of steel handcuffs. A moment later, the cold metal was on my wrists. He pressed them tight. Two clicks until it cut into my flesh. One more click until it ate into the small bones around my wrists. He made sure my palms were facing each other. Then he taped my fingers together.

"I just wanted to catch up with you. Is this really necessary?"

He ignored my question. "I heard you were retired. Why are you back?"

"After six months, I was bored to tears. Retirement is not for me."

"But the government has downsized and no longer require your services."

"That's why I am here to see you. I am sure you can use some help."

I looked at him in as slutty a way as I could. If my hands were free, I would pull down my top.

"In what way do you think my firm would find you useful?"€ He took a chair and turned it around so he could sit on it with his legs straddling the back. On my knees, the back of the wooden chair completely covered the vulnerable parts of his body. He sat an inch away from my face.

"You run an international firm consulting for the government. I'm sure you can use an attractive trained female."

"That depends." He was deliberately making it difficult. I knew he liked this game.

"Paul, let's cut to the chase. I know there is something you cannot resist." €I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue.

He stood up and unzipped his pants. He was not wearing underwear.

I looked at him in a hungry way. God, it was bigger and thicker than I remembered.

"Suck it whore, suck it real good." He held my hair and jammed his erect cock straight into my warm juicy mouth. He forced it all the way in until my lips can touch his balls. My gag instinct kicked in and I choked. He pinched my nose and did not let me breathe for an entire minute.

As abruptly as he jammed it in, he removed it and moved away. He went behind me and removed the belt of my jeans. He coiled the belt around my neck and forced me to move on my knees. With my hands behind, I could not balance and fell on my face when he quicken the pace.

"Get up slut. You need to be fucked until you forget your name."

He kicked me until I rolled to my back. Straddling me, he pulled my tube top down to my waist and slapped my breasts with his open palm. The slaps alternated with pinches and twists, harder and more violent until I cried out.

"What do you say when I pleasure your breasts?" He asked repeatedly as he slapped my breasts. He wanted me to say thank you daddy. I refused. The slaps continued until my chest were burning red with his hand prints.

"Looks like this cunt wants to show how tough she is."€

He yanked me to my feet with one hand on my nipple and another twisted around my hair. He was leading me to the bedroom connected to his office. I was half a pace behind him. His grip on my hair and nipple was unrelenting. But I saw an opening. My legs were free and I kicked him hard between his legs, scoring a direct hit on his crotch. He cried out and fought back tears. The pain was excruciating.

He took his gun out from his pocket and jabbed it against my temple.

"Get on your fucking knees, you filthy cunt." His eyes meant business. I sunk to my knees.

As soon as my knees hit the floor, he went behind me and kicked between my shoulder blades. I twisted sideways to avoid falling flat on my face, landing on my cheek. He tied my ankles together, then my elbows together. I could no longer resist. Lastly, he taped my eyes together with black tape.

I was taken to a rural area.

to be continued in Blonde Bait Chapter 3 ...

cckuay
cckuay
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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

"It was written well enough I suppose, just not very interesting." Actually, it is the opposite. The story, this, the previous ones and those that came later in several chapters are interesting stories, but they aren't good writing at all, starting with the issues of composition ("Composition 101,' I should add).

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
Why this story is unique

After reading a dozen of her stories, the formula is standard.

She gets cruelly chained and brutally tortured.

The twist here is she is doing it voluntarily to get employed.

Is the market for her services really so bad she has to endure sexual humiliation and physical pain just to work?

edsponyedsponyalmost 10 years ago
Not much here

after this long since the first chapter you disapoint with so little story. It was written well enough I suppose, just not very interesting.

chytownchytownalmost 10 years ago
Thanks***

For the read.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
I Like It

Finally, a fitting sequel to Blonde Bait. I like it. Please post Chapter 3 soon.

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Blonde Bait Previous Part
Blonde Bait Series Info

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