tagBDSMDon't Bother Me!

Don't Bother Me!

byThe Needler©

Frank Fletcher was pissed. His boss ordered him to drive from St. Louis to Cheyenne, Wyoming on one hour's notice, with no time to research flights. With no options, he set out with a change of clothes, a bag of toiletries and his laptop in the middle of the day with a Google directions to his destination. He swore at his asshole boss as he drove through Kansas City rush hour traffic, up the Missouri River and into a Nebraska night. When he was worn out from the road, he found a cheap hotel by I-80 and fell into a deep sleep 5 minutes after opening the door to his room.

The next day he awakened at dawn, fuming and unable to get back to sleep. He'd slept in his underclothes, which were rank with sweat. Dark stubble covered his face, and the fringe of hair surrounding his head was greasy and splayed in all directions. Watching Good Morning, America, he got his morning erection watching Diane Sawyer and figured some stress relief was in order before he faced the rest of his trip from hell.

The hotel had free wireless Internet, so he hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on his door and started downloading from his favorite porn sites. Frank Fletcher was a pudgy man in his mid-fifties, with almost no hair on his head and grisly grey hair covering his body. His thick fingers deftly worked his manhood as he downloaded video after video of blow jobs. The electricity building in his crotch was building toward discharge when the catastrophe happened.

Suddenly, the door flung open and the maid waltzed in, lost in her iPod. She was in her late 40s, chubby with huge hips and her long, greasy greying hair was pulled into a bun. She left the door open as she started vacuuming, pulling her cart into the room behind her, oblivious to the man on the bed.

Frank's erection wilted at once. He sat for a few seconds with his dick in his hand, looking with amazement at the woman who breezed by his "Do No Disturb" sign at 7:00AM. A low, out of tune humming accompanied her as she swept the rug, her eyes closed.

Pulling up his boxers, he jumped in front of her and yelled: "What the fuck are you doing?"

She looked up at him in shock, as if he'd beamed down from the Enterprise in front of her. "Huh?"

"What the holy fuck are you doing? Didn't you notice the 'Do Not Disturb' sign?"

Slowly, she looked back over her shoulder and the back at him. Her face was broad with a smashed nose, cloudy blue eyes, round cheeks and a double chin that wobbled in fear. "I thought you were gone and forgot to take it off."


"I'm. . .I'm. . .I'm sorry, sir. I'll. . .I'll go."

"No, no, no. That will not do. I'm going to call the front desk and tell them what an idiot they have working for them here in. . .in. . .in. . ."

"K-K-Kearney, Nebraska."

"Kearney, Nebraska? Where the fuck is that?" He strode over to the phone and picked it up. "The manager is going to hear what a stupid bitch you are."

Suddenly, she burst into tears and began moaning. "Oh, please, sir, please. Don't call the desk. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I'll go away and make sure you're gone before I come back. Please don't turn me in: the manager is looking for a reason to fire me."

Looking her over, he scrunched his face. "No, I'm gonna call

She ran over and grasped his sweaty shoulders, pulling his t-shirt down painfully. "No, no, no. I've got no place else to work and no family. I'll do anything if you won't call. There's no jobs out here in Kearney."

Pulling away from her was difficult; she kept him from crossing to the phone and picking it up. A thought crossed his mind and he knocked her back. He gripped her jaw hard and looked at her eyes. "You might not like what I choose."

"No, please, I'll do anything. I'd even have sex with you."

Laughing, he let her go. "Do you really think I could get it up for you, you old hag? Tell me another one."

Getting down on her knees and intertwined her fingers, pleading: "I'll let you do anything you want, just please don't call."

His eyebrows arched and a wicked leer crossed his face. "Anything?"

"Anything," she whispered on her knees, her puppy dog eyes brimming with tears.

"All right. Go shut the door."


He struck her on the face, leaving a red palmprint. "Go shut the fucking door, stupid bitch. D' ya think I want an audience?"

"Oh. Yeah, shut the door." Unsteadily, she got up and awkwardly pushed her way past her cart to close the door. A whimper crept from her lips as she came back to stand before him sheepishly.

He looked her over, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed down. "Strip."

"Strip? Oh. Okay, okay." Her fingers fumbled taking off the vest the hotel provided and the white sweatshirt underneath. Her skin was pale white and splotched with several asymmetrical moles. Her breasts were tightly confined in her huge bra, showing two inch wide nipples through the fabric.

"Stop. Kneel. Put your hands behind your back." She obeyed him and taking a clean t-shirt he tied her hands behind her. The aroma of dank sweat poured from her body. "Stand up, I can't stand seeing you look up at me like that." With difficulty, she obeyed him, almost falling over, her breasts wobbling alarmingly as she struggled upright.

He went to his bag and took out his pocketknife, which would have been forbidden if he caught a flight, and flicked it open. Her lower lip wobbled as he traced the skin of her chest with the point. Coming under her bra strap, he sliced it through with a quick motion, her right breast falling six inches. An evil grin on his face broadened as he resumed tracing the knife point on her skin, taking care not to mark her skin, before coming under the other bra strap, which he severed as quickly as the other.

A bulge began to appear in his boxer front. Her eyes darted from it to his face to his hand and back again. Rather than figuring out the clasp, he sawed through the main support and the remains of the bra dropped; her breasts fell out and her nipples hovered at her waistline.

Flicking the blade shut, he set it down and pulled a chair up to look at her massive churns at eye level as they hung before him. Running his finger gently around her right nipple, he smiled. "What have we here? Some people would call these breasts, but they're too ridiculous for that exalted term. Too big to call tits, tits is too delicate term for these jugs. Udders. Floppy udders Big, fat, floppy udders in Nebraska, just like all the damn cows. Big, fat, ridiculous floppy udders." He cupped them and juggled them hard up and down. "These floppy udders are an embarrassment, aren't they?" Taking his hands, he slapped the outsides several times, getting harder each time before ending with a loud smack that left them jiggling.

Taking her left breast in his hands, he held it up and inspected is closely. "Look at these stretch marks on the outside. Usually see these on an old woman's legs. When was the last time a man touched your tits, bitch?"

"I don't know. Maybe twenty, thirty years ago."

The air conditioner switched on, and her nipples erected in the cold air. "Ooo, I think she likes me. Hello, big, fat, ridiculous, fucking, floppy udder. I think you like me, and you want me to show you a good time." He looked around at her behind. "I don't think I'm going to make you bare that huge ass of yours. There's probably enough cottage cheese and stinking ass pellets to make me puke at the sight. No, no, we'll have to punish you another way. I think I've got the answer right here." He smacked the breast several times with his open hands, leaving red prints on the egg white skin.

Lifting the orb up, he brought the hardening bud close to her mouth. "You ever suck your own nipples, bitch?" She shook her head silently. "Every think about it?" Still more shaking. "Well, let me show you how good that can feel. . I'm going to make you suck your own tit, you stupid bitch." He took her brown bud into his mouth, slavering over it and sucking tenderly until she gasped. "You like that, don't you bitch?"

All she could do is look at the ceiling and breath heavily. He brought the nipple to her lips. "Suck it bitch, suck your own nipple. You've got enough slack in this fat old titty, suck it." Tentatively, she sought the brown nub with her tongue and gently kissed it. "Come on, suck the dirty old nipple into your mouth and suck it hard." She complied, immediately bewildered at the sensations that flooded her.

"I want you to keep that fat old udder in your mouth, or you'll be punished." He let go and it immediately slid down to bounce before stilling. "What did I tell you, bitch?" he sneered, slapping her hard on the cheek.

"I couldn't suck hard enough," she moaned softly. "It's too heavy."

He lifted the mammary again, and put the nipple to her mouth. "Then you'll have to bite the bud to hold it up." He put it in her mouth. "Now bite on your own nipple; hold it up there." A wince accompanied the effort and the tit slid down again.

Another resounding blow hit her face. "Bite harder. Keep that big bad booby in your mouth."

He pulled her breast up roughly and forced the tit into her mouth; she moaned as she bit down hard but was able to do as he demanded.

Going over to his computer bag, he took out a six inch plastic ruler, he used to use for correcting drawings in the days before computers. "I knew there was a reason I was keeping this in my bag," he said.

Coming back and sitting before her, he looked up to confirm she was still holding her tit by her mouth. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration; he lifted her other breast and faced the brown nipple. Tenderly, he began licking and sucking the hard target in front of him until she began to moan in appreciation. Then, he clamped down on her hard bud with his teeth, holding the breast up, and started spanking it with the ruler.

Squealed leaked from her mouth as he chewed her nipple and turned the pale white skin of her breast light red until he got tired of hitting her. Releasing her nipple, he let her breast fall hard, hitting it a few more times. Pulling the red orb upward, he pushed the bud toward her face. "Time to switch. Let that one go and take this one."

She panted as she released her bud, wincing as the blood returned to the hard appendage. Shaking her head, she wined: "No, no. you're too rough."

"Do you want me to call the desk?"

"It hurrrts," she warbled.

"I'm going to call the office."

"No, no, no. I"ll do it." Letting her right tit go, she clamped down on her left.

Noticing the white expanse before him, he smacked it as she sucked hard to alleviate the new pain. Then he repeated the procedure on the right breast, tenderly licking and sucking the nipple before abusing it the same way. Toward the end, he lifted it up to attack the white underside, when she began to start shaking.

"Keep that udder in your mouth."

"Mmm, mmm"

As his blows reached a crescendo, she started shaking violently and let the nipple go front her mouth, moaning and groaning. Her eyes were closed, and her face was flushed.

"What the fuck are you doing? Stop your stupid mooing, you damned cow!"

"I don't know," she said, after recovering.

He stood in disbelief as she breathed heavily, her shoulders going up and down. "You get orgasms from having your udders whipped?"

"I dunno. Never happened before."

"Shit, you're one strange cow." He struck her udder open handed, making it bounce and her cry out. "Well, let me try something else less pleasant." Going to the bathroom, he fetched a dry washcloth, then went to his overnight bag. The bulge in his boxers was four inches long and hard as a rock. A tube was squirted into the rag and he approached her. "Kneel, slut." She had difficulty coming to her knees, but barely managed without help. "This should teach you a lesson you haven't learned yet." He began rubbing a white ointment on her red skin, working it thickly and covering all her ponderous expanse and rubbing it in after he covered each orb, a minty aroma filling the air.

"What's that?" She asked innocently.

"A typical muscle relaxant, which feels differently on sensitive skin. You're probably starting to feel the tingle before it become a fire."

"Oh yes, it tingles. Oh, oh, now it's burning a little, ow,ow,ow,ow."

"And while you're enjoying that new sensation, it's time for a little white ointment for your face." He took out his four inch rod and began to stroke it in front of her forehead.

Her face began turning red as he jacked off in front of her; the pain in that ugly face and lumpy body turned him on like nothing before. His hand moved quicker and quicker until the sperm built in his balls again and he sprayed a long, sticky stream of white goo all over her face and hair.

Her mouth opened and her tongue licked in the semen within reach. The last few egg white drops flew out and his cock started to go limp. Her eyes were shut in an epiphany.

Pulling away in disgust, he pulled up his boxers and put away his toys. Reaching down, he untied her hands and helped her stand. "You're one strange bitch. Get the fuck out of here, stupid."

"Are you going to call the manager?" she asked, sperm still plastered on her face.

"No. Just get the fuck out of my life." He picked up her sweatshirt and vest and threw them at her, crossing to enter the bathroom and turn on the water.

She stood there, wiping every drop of goo from her face and licking it off her fingers. "Get the fuck out of here!" he shouted, and after putting her blouse and top back one, she opened the door and pushed her cart from the room.


Three days later, Frank was driving back after a midday start from Cheyenne. The meetings accomplished nothing, the meals were boring and the company completely uninteresting. The last night, he cruised the red light area, but every girl he talked to was cagey, and he was afraid they were cops, so he went to his small room unsatisfied.

By chance, he got tired at Kearney, Nebraska, and pulled into the same hotel to spent the night. The clerk was the same clerk he had four nights earlier, and checked him in the same bored way.

The room was a different one, on the top floor and as far from the front desk as possible, but there was an elevator, so Frank didn't complain.

The AC was busted, but the evening was cool, so Frank opened his window rather than complain to the front desk. It had been a shitty week and he was resigned to every last turd. At least he'd be home tomorrow, and suffer in familiar surroundings.

He fell asleep during Leno, and had a strange dream where he was promoted to the CEO position, but nobody listened to him, including his mistress, Ashley Simpson. Awakening suddenly with a full bladder, he stumbled to the toilet, lowering the seat and sitting to urinate out of laziness, dozing as his bladder emptied. When the last drop slid out, he went back and fell into a dreamless sleep until it was shattered around daybreak.

The sound of a vacuum cleaner shattered his sleep. A dim figure wearing an iPod was going back and forth at the bottom of his bed. Bolting upright, he shouted: "What the fuck are you doing here?"

The figure kept on going, back and forth, the wan light of the vacuum's face created an undulating pool of light at the base of his bed. Frank reached and touched the shoulder of the figure at the bottom of the bed. "Stop, stop, you stupid cow! What the fuck are you doing here?"

The figure stood up, feigning surprise poorly. "Oh my, I'm sorry sir, I thought this room was empty."

"Don't you know which rooms are occupied, your daft bitch!" The woman was of average height with white hair. There was something about the form that looked familiar to him. "Wait a minute," he said as his senses cleared, "wait a fucking minute! You're the idiot who burst in on me when I was here a couple of days ago."

The gathering light revealed the flat features of the woman he tortured on his way to Wyoming. Her big eyes turned toward him with a strange glint of hope as he stared at her. "Am I, sir? I hope you're not going to complain about me to the manager. I can't lose this job."

"Yes, yes, you're the bitch. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"'M sorry, I made a mistake. I'll do anything if you won't turn me in. Please, sir."

He rubbed his eyes and turned on the beside light. It was the same woman, in the same corporate vest, brown slacks and white top. She stood there dumbly, looking at him expecting something.

"I don't understand this. Why the hell are you back here?"

"Please sir, don't turn me in. I can't lose this job."

Standing up in his grubby underwear, he went over to stand in front of her. With a single motion, he tore the vest and shirt off her torso, spraying buttons in every direction. She stood there looking at him, her sheer white bra struggling to contain her massive mammaries. "I'll do anything," she whispered.

He rubbed his bald head and tried to clear his senses. "You're back here because you want to be, don't you? Are you that hard up?"

She blinked as she looked at him. "Please, sir," she whispered.

Reaching around, he undid her bra and her heavy breasts tumbled down toward her waist. The bra went sailing into a corner of the room, and he gave her left breast a load slap that drew a wince from her. Another slap in the same place, and a left handed blow to her right breast.

She looked at him with large eyes and for a few moments he went wild, smacked her heavy udders and making them wobble madly recoiling from his assault.

"Do you want to tie my hands?" she asked.

Pausing in his ire, he looked at her standing placidly in front of him. "Who are you?" he said at last.

"Lucy Lewis."

"Are you from here?"

"No. I grew up in Harrisonville, Missouri. I came up here ten years ago."

"Are you married?"






"Are you a virgin?" She bit her lip and trembled before reluctantly shaking her head in agreement.

"How old are you?"

"Forty." He slapped her drooping udders several times in frustration. A couple of tears escaped her eyes. "Forty five?" Another volley of punishment was endured silently. "Forty eight." Her eyes were resigned, and he looked at her several moments in silence. A few more slaps brought a high squeak and a nod of her head.

"Why did you come here today?"

She looked down. "I liked it. I never imagined, never thought. But I came harder than I ever did with my vibrator."

Anger welled up in him again, fed by the frustration of his trip, and he slapped her dropping dugs again. "How did you know I was here?"

"I checked the records after you left. I got your license plate number, figured you might come back. I asked Jaime to call me if you came back."

"Jaime is the night clerk?"

"Yes." She started shifting her weight on her feet, making her jugs sway back and forth. "He called me last night. I came back, hoping, hoping. . ."

"Hoping what?"

"Hoped you'd do my tits again," she whispered feebly.

Frank turned away from her and looked outside. The light was growing brighter and his stomach was starting to rumble anticipating breakfast. He looked back at her: her bulbous body, her white hair bun, her incredibly big hips. "Your udders are ridiculous. They're floppy, pale and wrinkled. I can't believe how low your nipples are. Only a pervert would get turned on by these udders."

Lifting a ponderous boob, she brought her hard nipple a half inch from her mouth. "Do you want me to suck own my nipple?"

"I taught you something, didn't I?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I've sucked my tits every night since I met you. It feels so good."

"Suck your udder." Obediently, she put her nipple in her mouth and began sucking it. After a moment, she took it out and ran her tongue around the areola, circling it lovingly.

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byThe Needler© 1 comments/ 84331 views/ 14 favorites

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