out of the strangest mis-readings are stories like this born…. ~n~
The movie cost $500.00. He grumbled about it, some. Five hundred smackaroo’s was not an insignificant amount of cash. If his wife found out, she would absolutely blow a fucking gasket. He paused a moment, pondering his wifes nasal screech should she discover that he’d played the lotto and hit for $800.00, and was only going to tell her he hit for $300.
He might go straight to hell.
Jeb had told him that this was not a thing to be missed if ever he got the chance. Then the old coot had gotten tight-lipped, and wouldn’t say another word about why a five-hundred clam movie was worth…well, $495 more than he normally would pay for a movie. Hell, even Wallyworld was offering $2.00 movies these days.
He shook his head.
He fingered the crisp hundreds in his khaki shorts right front pocket.
The bored voice carried an edge to it now. The guy behind him poked him in the back.
“Mister, if yor not moving up, can you step aside?”
He stepped up to the window instead, carefully counting out five of those fresh bills, only giving a small sigh of regret as he passed them under the grille to the very bored ticketmaster. The small pink ticket sure didn’t look like such an expensive prize. He followed the markings on the floor, to a door that was filled with bubbled glass. You couldn’t see in; it was pretty dim in there. He pressed the bell, and a little door inside the door opened.
He was reminded, for a moment, of the Oz movie. He handed his ticket through the little door; in seconds, the large main door swung open, soundless.
“Thank you. Right this way, Master.”
He heard the soft, female voice before he saw her.
He did a double take. She was nekkid as a jaybird! He felt his cock stir in his pants. Danged if seeing those pretty tits swayin’ wasn’t making Mr. JimmyDean get a stiffy!
He smiled, and followed where she led. He took note of the hushed opulence. Gilt work mirrors, red velvet curtains, tasteful pictures of nudie girls on the walls. Mostly, however, he watched the sweet curves of her ass swish from side to side.
She led him to a room. There were a bunch of plush velvet seats in the cozy theater room. The front wall was dominated by a large silver screen, with thick curtains to each side. There was space alongside each chair with a small table. Each table had a silver tray.
“Beer, Master? Or would you prefer wine?”
He ordered beer, and a plate of nacho’s at her query. She slipped off, and he watched as other men were seated, each attended by a woman. He tried to count how many girls there were, and noted that there were about 7 girls. He counted the seats.
A four-to-one ratio.
He smiled. As if.
She brought him his food and drink, and showed him where a button was fastened discretely to the side of the table. He was told to push it should he want more food, or drink, or assistance of any kind.
The lights began to dim, and the girls slipped away. The screen glowed briefly, and then the movie came up.
It was, of course, porn.
But porn like he had never seen before. Men tying women up to beds, or crosses, or over a fucking saw-horse. This had to have been made in the North. Them damned Yankees were perverted enough to take a simple tool and make it into something like that.
He pictured, briefly, and with great hilarity, him pushing his wife over his old and crappy saw-horse, and fucking into her the way the guy on the screen was going at it. Periodically he slapped her hip or ass with a crop.
That was an entire new way of riding a woman, to be sure.
And she moaned, and screamed…and iffin it weren’t a movie-makin’ trick, she was pissing and cumming like a whore.
Course, them girls in the movies that did this porno shit was all whores, but geezus. He felt JD stiffen further in his pants, and shifted a bit to get comfortable.
It was unseemly, and against all they preached at Holy Water Revival Church, to sit and watch this filth. But he was gonna put a creampie right in his drawers if he din’t stop watching this…
oh my gawd…what the fuck was that? She was crying up there on that screen, as that “dom” man of hers pinched her nipples and stuck somethin’ silver on ’em. Geebers…they looked like …hell yes they were, croc-clips! His son, Elwin, was an electrician up in Bonita Springs, and had dozens of those things in his work box! A length of chain had been attached at each end, and hung past her navel, dangling at the vee of her shaved cunny! He watched, holding his breath as the man on-screen knelt between her slapped-apart thighs, and pinched open yet another croc-clip.
Damned if he wasn’t gonna put it on her hoohaw!! HOLY SHIT! He drew in a deep breath, feeling his cock tighten, the tickling inside his balls.
The chain was pretty, and linked her clitty, her nipples together. He’d never thought of this stuff before. Ever. He watched as clothes pins doubled as clamps, as the guy used the crop to slap each one off. With every slap, every popping clip, the slut moaned, or cried out…and yet a glistening trail of slut-juice painted her inner thighs.
He watched, nearly unblinking as the slut on the screen was treated to a bit of electro-stim, as she was roughly fucked in the ass, as another man came in and fucked her mouth while the original Dom fucked her cunt.
As the lights came up, he noted the intense throbbing in his hard cock, and felt the wetness oozing from the tip. His underdrawers were damp. In seconds, his eyes adapted to the gentle light.
A stunning woman was standing in front of the screen.
“Gentleman, you will find a penny under your tray on the table. Please, follow the girls out one of these two doorways, and the second part of your experience will begin.”
The men, hushed in a kind of awe-filled silence, moved to the front of the room. Passing down a shadowy corridor, they emerged into what looked like an upscale gaming room. There were slot machines in orderly rows. Not as many as he’d seen when he took his wife to Vegas a few years ago, though.
“Gentleman, these are Penny Slots. You will get one chance to win. Please place your pennies, and pull the levers.”
There was a sound of chinking as coins were slipped into slots. Then the metallic tug and clink as the armatures were pulled down, and the ratcheting sound of spinning.
His machine came up with three tits!
“Congratulations Master! You won!” She stood by his elbow. “Please, follow me to the winner’s room.”
He crossed the room with a handful of other men, presumably other winners. He turned and watched a disconsolate group being shepherded out another door.
“Losers!” he thought with glee. He was thrilled to be a winner, but had no idea what you won. After all, it was just a penny. He’d never seen “dirty” slots like this before!
The door opened, and the six men in his group stepped inside and stared. A cross. A sawhorse. A collection of silver clamps. Crops. Paddles. All the toys that they had seen in the move. And across the room, a lineup of women to choose from, a full dozen.
“You may go pick out your Penny Slut’s, Master’s. She will be your companion. You may beat her, fuck her, make her suck you off. You may team up with each other, or play alone.”
It was the statuesque woman from the other room.
“I wish you all a fucking good evening!” Her laugh bounced around the room as she turned and exited the room.
On his way home, he dialed Elwin. His hands were shaking a bit, and he was as tired as if he’d run the fucking Boston Marathon.
“heya, kid…I wuz wondering if you had a few extra of those croc-clips…”
* *** *
Saw two billboards announcing Adult Stores here in the DEEP South…
Between the two signs, which were miles apart, was another for ‘penny slots’…which I mistakenly read as “penny sluts” since my mind was wandering down dark alleyways…and that was the genesis for this naughty little tale.