A Neon Rattrap - Part 3
I didn’t give The Pimp a return smile, or at least not the look he wanted to see. The look that would save my ass from destruction would have signaled that I would have let him violate me personally. My grimace however, unlocked the door to the “back room” where I would meet my fate – the conciliation prize for being a half hour late.
The pristine dust-free great room that I was in before transitioned quickly to a ripe dungeon cell not 50 yards away, to be guarded and mutilated by Rocco, The Pimp’s personal dungeon master. Rocco was a troll of a man stooping taller than me and exploding with steroid inflated arms and torso. He separated himself from the cadaver he had been molesting to come over and say “hi”.
Rocco smelled like rotten meat and low tide. He chuckled in my direction knowing that I would be his plaything for the next few hours before he killed me. I actually heard that the sportier candidates that he encountered ended up scalped, their coifs used as cum rags for his later exploits. None of the rumors about Rocco and his affinity for responsive toys were encouraging, ever.
The tiny shrills of delight he uttered while approaching and wringing his hands were equally unsettling. Rocco’s huge erection protruding from his crotchless chaps swayed back and forth as he occasionally gave it a rub and made the tip of this mastodon prick shine. His chuckles grew louder as he grabbed from a small cardboard box a foil wrapped condom. Thank God he was sensible and didn’t want to infect either of us with questionable diseases – who knows where I’ve been sticking my ass, right?
That wasn’t his intention however. This was made clear as he protruded his thumbnail through the latex and wound up the condom into a stretchy cock ring. I was bent over by thug one and thug two, ever so graciously, and I was able to clearly see Rocco slip on the ring, then slide a pencil-like object between the latex and his huge organ. Giving the pencil a few spins, the latex tightened around his pecker and he held it like a water skier would.
Growing up as a child I never had any aspirations of becoming or even imitating an electric bull. Comforted for a few moments that I was still fully clothed, and that he was going to have the thugs help undress me, given he only had one hand free – he had temporary no-access. Those few moments quickly slipped away when I then realized he wasn’t intending to start at the back and work his way forward. There was a reason why they had bent me over with the unpleasant view to his preparation. Rocco wanted to play dentist, and I was in need of some Novocain.
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