Chapter 13

The Funky Dunk Hotel, an old summer hotel built during the 1920's when swimming became a popular recreation, was a city landmark. It was three stories high, built entirely of wood, and every one of its sixty five bedrooms had a small porch and scenic view of San Diego. Like other landmarks, the Funky Dunk was in bad repair. It would have been torn down years before except for last minute reprieve by the city's mayor.

The real name for the landmark was something mundane and forgettable like the Hotel Victoria. It was nicknamed the Funky Dunk during the end of Prohibition when gangsters used the hotel's bar as a watering hole and ran a prostitution ring in the rooms upstairs. The gangsters were gone, but business remained the same decade after decade. Duncan Felther was the owner, hence the name Funky Dunk's.

When Bob Anderson parked his rented car in front of the hotel, a mob of ragged teenagers descended upon him like locusts swarming over Egypt.

"Hey man, got any spare change?" one scraw­ny punk said, extending his filthy hand.

Anderson pushed the moochers away and pulled Debbie by the hand. There were teenagers everywhere he looked. They sat on the entrance steps, lounged in front of the communal television set inside, and cluttered the spacious dining room. Behind the desk sat a husky man with a balding head, heavy, unshaven cheeks and red rimmed eyes. He wore a soiled T shirt that at one time had been white and he reeked of Ripple wine.

"This joint is a dive," said Anderson, flipping the desk man a ten spot. He felt Debbie clutch his hand.

She couldn't be a day older than sixteen, he thought. His pulse started racing. Perhaps, some­where, right now, his daughter was in a cheap hotel like this one, with some stranger paying ten bucks for a room. The thought made him shudder inside. The chances were very good.

Mary, my daughter, he thought. Selling her body for money. He didn't want to believe it was true. He forced his mind to concentrate on other, more pleasant things.

Like Debbie's ample breasts.

His cock still tingled from the wonderful blow job he received in the car, yet he had not paid much attention to Debbie until now. As they climbed the stairs, he studied her lush, sensuous figure as an artist might study a model.

Her tall, well shaped body was a series of enticing curves, each one more ripe and tempting than the last. Her curving, well defined breasts pushed against the soft, white cotton Indian blouse she wore, forming symmetrically perfect twin mounds. He noticed on the way up stairs that her breasts swayed from side to side under the blouse. She jiggled like half filled water balloons. From her bustline, her stomach curved in and then flowed out again at the hips that were covered by short, tight fitting Levi cut offs. Her white skin was dark­ened to a bronze color by the sun. His eyes trav­eled up again across her hips and stomach and swaying breasts until they stopped at the top of her head where her dark auburn hair parted and flowed down the sides of her face. Reaching the second floor, Anderson turned left and walked down the narrow hallways toward the room at the end of the hall. Suddenly, a skinny character dressed in shabby rags with hair that grew like weeds from his scalp, jumped between them.

"Another ten bucks," he said through sneering lips.

"Ten bucks for what?"

"For the girl, asshole," he said. He produced a knife from his mud caked Levi's. The blade flicked open, the point a few inches from Anderson's gut. "Now hand over the bread!"

Anderson turned to Debbie to ask if she knew this guy. But the cold, heartless look in her eyes was all the answer he needed.

A con game. Debbie clung tightly to his arm. It was gesture without meaning, a dull movement that he had mistaken for passion. Debbie was just another cunt trying to make a buck. And he was the "john". Another body to get aroused quickly so she could get the money and go out on the street looking for another willing body with a fat wallet attached.

He was mad at himself for being so gullible, and he was outraged at Debbie; so outraged that he decided to fight back.

"Well, man?" snarled the punk kid.

Anderson started to reach for his wallet. His knee came up abruptly between the youth's bowed legs. His kneecap snapped against the punk's groin, squishing his testicles.

"Myyyyy God!" the boy groaned, sinking to the floor. He dropped the knife.

Anderson turned to Debbie, whose face was drawn tight with horror. He gave the groaning youth a kick in the chops to silence him, then, picking the knife up, he grabbed Debbie by the arm and held the point against her throat.

"We are going to have some fun, baby," he said. "Now we are going to have us some fun!"

At first he was too hot and then too mad, but he fought his animal urges, realizing that the purest sexual pleasure came after a long, gradual build up.

First, he ripped the bedsheets into long ribbons and bound her arms to the headboard. She strug­gled, but Debbie was only a woman and she was helpless to stop Anderson.

"No," she cried. Her tiny voice sounded vulnerable. "Please, no, Mr. Anderson. I have to work here at the hotel! If I don't, they'll hurt me."

Anderson massaged her back, ignoring the girl's urgent pleading. He believed Debbie. She was only doing her job. But he was much too hot to ask who made her work at the Funky Dunk. That would come later, after he had dipped his wick into Deb­bie's wetting ink pot.

"Up on your knees," he ordered.

Debbie climbed up on the mattress, terrified of what Anderson had planned out. There was no stopping this man. Watching him wipe out the pimp in the hallway had convinced her of his abil­ities. This trick knew how to take care of himself. But what did he have planned for Debbie? Poor little Debbie, she cried to herself. Her ass was really in a sling now!"

Relentlessly Anderson pressed on. They were stripped naked on the mattress, which squeaked its approval as Anderson caressed her rump. He put his hand through the split V of her backsides and felt her stiffen with fear.

It was a good feeling. He felt strong. It was like sticking the knife under her chin and watch­ing her self esteem drain from her eyes. He pushed his finger an inch into her anus, feeling her flex helplessly as his finger toyed with her hole.

"Like that, cunt?" he said.

He moved in a semicircle around the bed. His prick pushed forward at her mouth. Debbie tilted her head, looked at him with frightened eyes, then turned away.

"Hard or easy?" he asked. Her rectum sucked at his finger. She was helpless and defenseless.

Debbie was vulnerable as a fish flopping on dry land and they both knew it. Anderson knew it was bestial to torture the girl this way, but he couldn't help it. The bitch deserved to have the fear of death put in her, and besides, he enjoyed making her squirm. He wasn't a sadist. Anderson just realized the effect of his domination. Debbie would end up telling him everything, doing every­thing he wanted.

When her asshole was dry and tight around his finger, he rammed all the way inside her anus.

"TALK!" he screamed. His finger jazzed her rectum. Her hips were pumping up and down, drawn to the savage thrusting of his finger. He con­trolled her like a puppet.

It was as if a control mechanism ran from her brain to her asshole. The pain exploded like a rock­et. She twisted and tugged and hoped until she could not stand another moment of the pain.

"I don't know where your daughter is!" she cried.

"Who runs this hotel?"

His fingers felt like a giant cucumber up her butt. It hurt so bad she almost fainted. Her cunt walls shriveled up, flared with a spasm of pain, then went soft. A burning sensation eased through her crotch and Debbie realized it was her own urine.

Ohhhh, she groaned inwardly.

She was peeing on herself. She felt so bad! The man would be ashamed of her for being naughty. He might even spank her.

"Two guys," she cried. "They get the girls from all over the beach. Oh, please, let me go. I'll get killed for sure if I tell you."

He ignored the comment. The wet stain spread out on the white sheet. Anderson saw the stain. Debbie started to cry. A slow smile of satisfaction spread across his stern face. The girl would spill everything.

"Name them!" he shouted.

"Alfred is one," she said. A few seconds pas­sed. It seemed like an eternity before she spoke again. "John. They're both brothers. I don't know the last name."

"Why aren't they here?" he said. His finger rammed her butt again. She was soft as butter between those nice cheeks. Her asshole had to be virgin. He'd bet on it. As his eyes watched with increasing fascination, as Debbie's breathtaking body squirmed lewdly, his cock grew thick in his pants. He felt the urge to yank out of her rump and start jabbing cock meat up her shitter. Her legs would come alive around the stout trunk of his cock. Her thighs would tighten around his waist in a stranglehold and his cock would ram into her asshole until she came apart like a plastic doll.

But as pleasing as that experience would be, Anderson stopped himself. He had other, more exciting things to do.

"I said, why aren't they here?"

Debbie writhed in agony. She hated this man for making her squirm like a roasted toad. Her rectum felt like an oven from the savage thrust of his fingers. No amount of hunching around would stop the pain. He was using her butt for a cunt and she couldn't do a thing to stop.

He might even stick that big cock of his up there, too!

Her legs tightened, but he wormed away. The man was determined to get his way. The bastard!

"They do their recruiting down at the bus sta­tion," she said.

"Recruiting?" he said, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"They pick up the girls downtown, the girls that are stupid or just off the bus or don't know anything. The guys work the girls over in a hotel and if the chicks turn out all right then they bring them to the hotel."

It sounded like a confession. Anderson didn't doubt the veracity of her story for a minute. There were plenty of sleazy punks hanging around the Funky Dunk, but if there were more chicks like Debbie around, he could see how lucrative the business could get.

Looking down into the frightened teenager's face with the telltale signs of terror etched into her skin, he said, "Now you are going to fuck."

He pulled his finger out of her asshole with a popping noise. At the same instant he untied her bonds, releasing her hands. Now she was free, and turning on her side, Debbie looked up into Ander­son's grim, determined face and wondered what would happen next.

He pulled her hand. Together they walked into the bathroom. Anderson turned on the show­er. For several seconds, they stood in silence while vapor billowed into the tiny room.

He splashed water all over her tits and tummy, and then, very carefully, he lathered her crotch with soap and worked up until her symmetrical breasts were nicely covered over with lather.

Despite the pain and torment the girl had just experienced, Debbie had to laugh at herself. She looked so silly. "Come on," said Anderson stern­ly. "Hop in the shower and rinse off."

The girl sighed and turned the showerhead on her silky skin. The tiny jets of water felt like pins shooting into her.

After bathing, Debbie stepped out into the small bathroom and stared down at Anderson sit­ting on the commode. His giant cock rose up from between his spread thighs like a huge banana. He looked so silly, sitting there in that awkward po­sition, that she started to giggle that is, until she saw the deadly serious expression on his face. She shut the hell up.

He guided her by the hand, positioning Debbie so her cunt straddled the tip of his cock. He touch­ed her hips and slowly guided her cunt slit down on the erect cock head.

"Ouch!" she gasped. Her tiny slit was no match for his giant fuck pole. Even with all the juice leak­ing from her hole, it wouldn't fit. She looked at him, her eyes moist as a deer's.

"Bend your thighs," he said. "Your cunt will open the more you squat."

He steadied her hips. Debbie was fantastically built. Her tits stared straight back into his eyes, the nipples jiggling as her cunt hole resisted his pecker.

Her cunt was something. Oh, it was heavenly. The razor thin slit peeled back as his cock squeak­ed in. He couldn't believe this girl's cunt was so tight.

She writhed and squirmed and gradually her twat opened up.

"Oooooo!" she gasped.

Suddenly, she squatted down on his lap. His dick shoved a foot deep in her elastic cunt. The walls strained, pushed out, then sucked in, hold­ing his pecker in a soft, wet glove of warmth.

For the first time, Anderson wanted to forget about his mission. Debbie's cunt was a beautiful treasure. Her weight pushed him down against the toilet seat as her legs hung down from both sides, her feet almost touching the floor.

Trembling, he bounced her rump on his knees. Her cunt seemed to go on forever. Debbie was well aware of the tantalizing effect she was having on Anderson. It was a knockout for herself too!

The big, knotty end hose was up about as far as a cock could go. It felt funny. Good, but fun­ny. The twin sides of her cunt pressed against him and the raw flesh made her stomach quiver.

Every movement of her hips, no matter how slight, made her vagina flip flop. She squeezed her legs together and began twisting and bounc­ing, using his powerful prick to ream her skinny cunt.

It was wildly stimulating. Desperately, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and worked her cunt back and forth. She felt herself swelling up. She seemed lighter, dizzier, more excited. And the moment she stopped bouncing, the thrill continued on.

Her breasts bounced along in rhythm. The nipples grew harder and more unyielding. Ap­parently Anderson was aware of this fact. He bent forward and sucked her nipples.

"Oooooo!" she moaned.

Her crack split open like a barn door and her dark, musty odor swept from the close flaps of cunt, surrounding the two lovers in its special tantalizing scent.

Anderson was speechless. His jizz was run­ning up into his cock like seltzer bubbles up a soda straw. He tried to hold back, but he couldn't. She was a sweltering hot piece of ass and her cunt made his inflamed balls hurt all the more. He prayed for a miracle. He didn't want to come right then. No, he had to wait.

"Aaaaahhhh," Debbie moaned again. She was hot all right. The silly bitch might fuck all night before that wonderful hot cunt finally gave in, and his cock would be rubbed raw if he didn't hurry up.

"Lean back against my knees," he ordered hoarsely.

She responded like a good little girl. Arching her back, she leaned her head toward the ceiling and put the palms of her hands on his knees.

Now he had a chance to grab her clitoris Eagerly, he searched her soggy cunt hair, looking for the magic fuck button. Her cunt made squish­ing sounds while she bounced on his pole. Her juice was running through her cunt and down the sides of his thighs. His balls were straining. The clitoris was there, somewhere in her cunt. He ran a trembling finger up the bloated ridge of her twat and then found what he was looking for.

It was a thick, protruding organ the size of a pencil point. He squeezed very hard with his finger­nails. At the same instant he bounced his ass on the toilet seat, jamming cock up and down her chan­nel.

He thought for a moment, that his efforts had failed. His pecker hole trembled as one drop, then another shot into her vagina. Then he saw that Debbie's serene, contented face was contorted into expressions of lust that he had never imagined.

He laughed, gripping her clitoris and rocking his cock. Her tiny sex funnel started to shrink down against him. She was dancing lewdly on his lap, bouncing around as if she had springs taped to her ass. Suddenly her cunt squeezed on his fuck tube and semen shot into her.

"Aaaaiiee!" he gasped.

His cock was a fountain. It shot out juice like a sprinkler, splashing everywhere. His sperm was met by the climaxing cuntwalls, all sticky and gooey, like a vagina should be. His sperm stuck to the walls, coating her insides with sperm be­fore the residue leaked out her slit.

"Fuck, fuck fuck meeee!" Debbie gasped.

This was no hooker talking, this was a real live cunt wanting sex. She was pumping and he could hear the wail of her deep voice moaning like an injured animal.

How do I stop, he wondered. His sperm con­tinued flowing like some endless river. He clutched her sweat dripping body close to his chest and hung on for dear life. Debbie was fantastic! He knew what came next, but it was necessary. As she sucked in his sperm, bouncing on his lap like a happy child at a birthday party, he knew what had to be done.

"Get off," he said hoarsely.

She didn't hear him at first. Her body was leaping like a kangaroo's. It felt so good, so damn good and exciting that quitting seemed out of the question.

Then he lifted her body roughly off his lap and plopped her down on the tiles between his feet. His penis was still hard.

Hungrily, she clamored for his shooting prick, grabbing the shaft with her hand and defiantly ramming the whole sticky mess down her throat.

"You're really something," he said.

Indeed she was something. Her skin was wash­ed clean and her tits were flushed from excite­ment. She stared straight into his crotch. The puffy ball of pubic hair was all matted down with grease from her cunt. At least she thought so until she looked closer and saw it was sperm that had dripped down from the walls of her cunt.

Anderson let the girl suck his cock until the mushroom head failed to produce juice. She didn't know exactly what came next, but that was okay. Debbie was about to find out.

Pulling away savagely, he straightened his tired legs.

"Here, sweetheart," he said, waving his spent prick like a flasher. "Here's what's at the end of the rainbow."

The droopy head raised for a second and Deb­bie thought the mushroom end was going to jizz again. It didn't. A long stream of urine shot from his pecker and splashed on her nose.

"Oh my God!" she shouted. But the urine was splashing everywhere. It got her forehead and then came washing down her nose and lips, soaking her teeth and gums.

"Here, cunt, this is what you deserve," Anderson laughed. He used his penis as a firehose, and when he was finished, not an inch of her naked body was left untouched.