Kinky Sex Fetish: A Manhattan Murder Mystery 3

Hooray For Our Side
Hooray For Our Side

As this is fiction, I should probably get the spanking scene out of the way, but to any subbie girls reading, it’s going to be pretty anti-climatic. I didn’t really know what I was doing. For whatever reason, I think it was the day that the United States “won” the Iraq war. In the new offices they always had a TV tuned to CNN, and we watched US soldiers taking an American flag and covering up the head of the Saddam Hussein statue. That’s an interesting story in and of itself. The way they showed it on TV, people thought there was a crowd of regular Iraqis cheering as the soldiers draped the flag over Hussein’s head. But of course, the whole event was staged. It came out later, on the internet, but people bought it at the time. On TV, they just showed a close up, with a handful of Iraqis cheering. Later, on the internet, they released a wider angle shot of the entire square. There were, like, 20 Iraqis, hand picked, and a handful of US soldiers doing the act. The rest of the square was empty, abandoned. But people in America watching on TV literally thought that we had “liberated Iraq” and that a huge crowd of average Iraqis were cheering on our soldiers.

I never really could tell how many people at work had bought into the lie, and how many didn’t. You never really knew who you could trust. There was this guy Bill that I was sort of work friends with. Nice guy, had a wife and two little girls, just a regular average Joe. He had bought into the whole thing. So we’re watching this on TV and when they cover the statue’s head, he sort of pumps his fist in the air and says, “yeah!” This moment always stuck with me, because I knew it was all bullshit but so many people didn’t.

So I think that was the day. I was fucking her doggy style and I just did it. I grabbed her hair, stuck her face down in the mattress, and just started wailing on her ass. One, two, three four, five. Hard. She sort of moaned or made some little noise, so I did it again. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Those were a bit harder, it was getting serious now. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Then she reached her hand around and grabbed my arm. So I stopped. That was it. We finished the regular way. We never talked about it.

Worthless Cunt
Worthless Cunt

I told you she was never my sub. I guess we were both into it, but not with each other. It wasn’t until I met Worthless Cunt that I really did the whole thing. I’m calling her Worthless Cunt because that’s exactly how I treated her. I honestly do not remember her name. I don’t remember most of their names. I couldn’t even give you an accurate count.

I had moved out of the apartment and rented a room in Jersey City. There was a white guy and a black guy, and they both were personal trainers at some gym or something. Both had huge muscles and were obviously using steroids or whatever. The white guy once made some comment about raping me while he humped the sofa, in what now I understand to be “roid rage.” It was funny, because the black guy was his best friend, and he called him “nigger” constantly and constantly told “nigger jokes.” The black guy just sort of played along I guess. They were both freaks. I actually think the white guy may have been a fag. He was Catholic and had that picture of Jesus above his bed that they evidently do.

So one night he brings over some guy who plays football with the NY Giants and we all go out to this club in Hoboken. The football player is some minor celebrity, has a super hot girlfriend, and was actually a nice guy. We all get super drunk, snort way too much coke, and as we’re about to leave, Worthless Cunt just walks up to me and says “hi.” Within maybe 20 seconds, she just kisses me, on the lips. I say, “give me your number” and she writes it down on a little piece of paper and leaves. She had kind of shortish black hair, big boobs and shaved her twat. The things I did to her I won’t even put in writing. If it wasn’t illegal it probably should be. I have no idea, understanding, nor insight into why I did those things to her, why she stuck around for 2 months letting me do those things to her and half the time was begging me to do those things to her. The last time I called her, after we had stopped for a few weeks, she said something like, “oh you. Oh no. I can’t do this. I have to go, bye.” I never heard from her again.

Crazy Bitch
Crazy Bitch

So sometime before she ran off I had moved back into the apartment, and crazy bitch saw Worthless Cunt once, at least from the back. Worthless Cunt comes over, walks into my bedroom, and I say “get on your knees, suck my dick” and she does. Other than two blowjobs I got from the Jewish American Princess, which were absolutely the very best of my life, Worthless Cunt was the best dick sucker I ever met, and she loved it, totally got off on it. Crazy bitch was in the other room, the doors were open and she just sucks me off, I come all over her face, she gets cleaned up and we just chat about whatever. After she left, crazy bitch makes a bitchy comment about how her ass looked in her jeans, but then said, “you should stay with her, you make her laugh. You two obviously get along.” Honestly I thought Worthless Cunt was kind of stupid and not that interesting. She had a car, I would call her, tell her to come pick me up, I’d get in her car, we would stop somewhere, some parking lot, the garage at the mall, and she would just start sucking me off. I probably only acutally fucked her five or six times. I always did things to humiliate her, for whatever reason. I really don’t understand it either.

Sorry for that long digression, but I figured it was important context. Let’s get back to Songbird and the night we met. Songbird and I would become friends but never have sex. She actually got pretty frustrated about it, because, in theory, her and I would have made a great couple. I liked her very much. But I don’t think she had “it” in her, whatever “it” may be. I swear, it’s like “gaydar” or something, you learn to pick up the signals. Some women are subs, some aren’t. I really don’t understand it myself.

So Songbird and I make plans to go out Saturday, September 8th.

To be continued

Mystery

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