Plunge

Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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When Martin Boyd of Boyd Investments Group purchased the Acadiana Motel from Cindy Torres, recent widow of David Torres, he failed to do a proper assessment of the property. The one time the astute investor failed to do due diligence, it wound up costing him, and his investors nearly two hundred thousand dollars in unnecessary renovations. Although needed, very few of the clientele of the cheap motel would appreciate, much less even notice the upgrades.

Martin assumed that the thirty two room motel just needed some sprucing up in order to attract a better clientele. So he had the pockmarked parking lot resurfaced and painted stripes indicating parking spaces. The drab cinderblock façade was painted a cheerful light blue with bright festive yellow trim and deep brown doors.

The dilapidated mattresses, clumpy foam rubber pillows and heavily stained, ripped polyester bed coverings were replaced. The plumbing was upgraded with water saving fixtures and the towels and face cloths were thrown out and replaced with sturdy towels that had 'Motel Acadiana' stamped on them.

The heavy pressboard low dressers and end tables that were still serviceable remained; they were heavy and still functional. The heavy clay lamps also remained but the old 25 watt light bulbs were replaced with energy saving LED light bulbs. The tube televisions were replaced with 32 inch flat screen models.

Finally, Martin had a small kidney shaped swimming pool installed in the rear of the two story building. He reasoned that the pool would be a welcome haven for road weary travelers and their kids.

Had Martin bothered to check, he would have learned that the vast majority of guests often departed in less than three hours after check-in. They weren't there looking for a low budget quality motel; they were looking for a room to use to fuck their secretaries, a wife of their bowling league's team captain, a high school student making a failing grade on his Biology exam. Nine out of ten times, the towels were never unfolded, the soaps were never unwrapped, and the comforters were never even pulled down to expose the fleece blanket and flat sheets underneath.

The secretary would check her cell phone and see the room number her boss texted her. After looking around, she would climb the steps and give a quick knock on the heavy metal door. The wife would rush in and caution the afternoon fling to 'watch her hair; she just had it done at Miss Helena's.' The tear streaked face of the high school student would burn with shame as he opened his mouth for Mr. Patel's sweaty cock. And in two hours, the room would be empty again.

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Despite the thousands and thousands of dollars spent by Martin Boyd, Michelle Ruiz was pushing a housekeeping cart that had one rubber tire that kept working itself loose from the hard plastic wheel. Pushing the cart from Room 101 to 103, Michelle would have to lean her hand on the left side, holding the right front wheel slightly off the ground. And from Room 103 to 105, the tire would come off the wheel and the cart would limp along to the next door.

"God damned piece of shit," Michelle muttered darkly, pushing a lock of her thick black hair out of her eyes.

A quick check of her print-out showed Michelle that no one had been in Room 105 so she wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed on to Room 107.

The smell of sex was heavy in the room. The television was silently playing male homosexual pornography and Michelle paused to watch a few moments of one very cute looking young man being roughly sodomized. He gave the camera a little smirk as his lover pounded a very large cock into his greased anus.

"Whatever," Michelle said, turning the television off and placing the remote control next to the flat screen monitor.

The bed was a complete disaster; the evidence of sexual activity was quite liberally distributed around. The bathroom was also in complete disarray. Michelle knew she would be discarding these latex gloves the moment she stepped out of this room.

No one had been in Room 109 since yesterday when Michelle had cleaned it so Michelle pulled the cart around the corner to Room 111. Pausing by the door, Michelle looked over and saw a young blonde swimming in their pool. Swiveling her head around again, Michelle looked at the three automobiles that were currently parked in front of Rooms 104, 115 and the parking space for Room 202.

The heat and humidity of the summer day in Southwestern Louisiana was brutal. For a brief moment, Michelle wished she could say 'fuck it' and jump into the cool waters of the AM pool and splash around with the young blonde.

Room 111 was a quick one. The garbage can had three condoms in it and the bedspread had a wet spot on it. Michelle changed the bedspread, checked the bathroom then ran the vacuum cleaner over the carpet.

Leaving Room 111, Michelle barked her frustration as the loose tire again popped off the wheel. Again, she looked at the motel's pool with some longing but pushed the cart down the open hallway.

Room 115 had the 'Do Not Disturb' sign dangling from the doorknob. She placed her ear to the door and could faintly hear the bedsprings creaking and a man's grunts. Another splash drew her attention to the pool area. Parking her cart, Michelle strode across the parking lot to the enclosed pool area.

"Ma'am? Hi, ma'am," Michelle said, walking over to the eddge of the pool.

The cute blonde pretended not to hear her. The young woman swam away from where Michelle stood.

"Ma'am, you can either answer me, or the manager," Michelle snapped, irritated at the girl's behavior.

"What?" the blonde snapped, adopting an entitled attitude.

"Ma'am, are you a guest here?" Michelle pointedly asked.

"Yes," the girl said, sneering. "Happy."

"Ecstatic," Michelle snapped. "What room are you staying in?"

"What? I don't have to tell you," the girl declared, diving underneath the water.

"You can either tell me, or tell the police; you are trespassing," Michelle said when the girl broke surface.

"Fine! Jesus," the girl snarled, climbing out of the pool.

The blonde grabbed a ratty looking towel from one of the brand new chaise lounges and briskly toweled herself. With a smirk, Michelle noticed that the girl was nearly flat-chested and had very little meat on her buttocks. Her thighs were pencil thin as she swiveled, toweling herself off.

With a sneer in Michelle's direction, the girl wiggled into a long, heavily stained Yum Yum Ice Cream tee shirt. Then, slipping her feet into some cheap flip flops and looping some ratty looking shorts over her shoulder, the girl pointedly slapped her way from the enclosed pool area.

"Bitch," the girl hissed just before opening the gate.

Michelle had been willing to let the girl leave. She'd been willing to let the matter drop; when she'd been younger, on a hot summer day like this she'd been known to sneak into apartment complexes and take a quick dip in their pools. And, upon being asked to leave, Michelle had complied.

But to be called a 'bitch' was more than Michelle was willing to put up with. The girl was trespassing on private property. As an employee of Boyd Investment Group, Michelle was acting on the stead of Martin Boyd.

"Ack! Hey! Nuh uh, come on bitch, let me go!" the girl cried out when Michelle grabbed a handful of wet blonde hair and jerked the girl, hard toward Room 109.

The girl screamed out loud as Michelle jerked her, backward to the door. With her free hand, Michelle used the key card and unlocked the door. Still dragging the girl backward, Michelle flung the girl onto the neatly made bed.

"Fucking bitch!" the girl screamed, attempting to rise.

A vicious punch to the girl's solar plexus stifled the girl's complaints. Michelle hurried from the Room and retrieved her housekeeping cart from in front of Room 111. She ignored the loose tire as she dragged the cart into Room 109.

The girl was staggering to her feet, still doubled over. Michelle grabbed the girl's hair again and again flung the girl onto the bed.

The shirt ripped easily enough. The girl cried out as Michelle tore the garment from throat to hem. Quickly rolling the girl onto her belly, Michelle used the remnants of the shirt to pin the girl's arms behind her back. Twisting the shirt around the girl's elbows and wrists bound the girl's hands behind her back.

Michelle now saw that the girl was not actually wearing a bikini; she was wearing panties and a bra. Both panties and bra had definitely seen better days; both were horribly frayed.

"Come on Lady, please," the girl sobbed now. "I, I'm sorry. I, I won't come back no more, please, please just let me go, okay?"

Michelle slammed the door shut and secured the safety hasp. She felt an odd ripple shiver through her body. For a brief moment, she paused, wondering at this strange phenomena; then realized, it was a surge of power.

Returning to the bed, Michelle grabbed the girl's panties and jerked the underwear down the girl's slim legs. One flip flop fell off and slapped to the ground.

Michelle could see that the panties were in very poor shape. The cotton gusset was riddled with holes and the elastic looked ready to tear away from the hem of the garment.

"I'll, I'll scream," the girl threatened.

"Go ahead; think anyone's going hear you?" Michelle taunted.

When the blonde opened her mouth to scream, Michelle quickly thrust the scrap of her panties into her mouth. The blonde attempted to bite Michelle's fingers. Michelle smirked as she knotted the panties behind the girl's head, using some zip ties from her cart.

Grabbing her vacuum cleaner from her cart, Michelle tugged the retractable cord from the handle, stretching the electric cord to its full length.

Turning around, Michelle looked at the girl's naked buttocks. Just like the rest of her, the girl's buttocks were skinny. There was hardly any definition to the girl's pale white posterior.

Looping the electric cord in her hand, Michelle brought the cord down on the girl's exposed buttocks. The girl shrieked into her panty gag, a loud piercing scream.

Despite telling the girl that no one would hear her, Michelle did worry that someone might actually hear the girl's loud scream of pain.

"Better be quick about it then," Michelle decided and delivered nine more swats, reddening the girl's buttocks and upper thighs. One swat struck the girl's lower back; Michelle winced at the angry red welt that formed across the pale flesh.

"Now, maybe won't be so quick with that sassy mouth," Michelle snarled, pressing the button to retract the electric cord into the handle of the vacuum cleaner.

"God damned bitch, I didn't do nothing to you," the girl sobbed piteously when Michelle worked the gag from her mouth.

"Again with the 'bitch,' eh? See you ain't learned how to keep that mouth shut," Michelle sighed, dropping the panties to the bed.

Michelle rolled the girl on her side. She smirked as she saw the girl's flat chest, bony ribs, and dark patch of pubic hair. The patch of hair on her crotch was much darker than the hair on her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the blonde sobbed out as she saw Michelle again tugging the electric cord from the vacuum cleaner.

"No, no, think hmm, twenty, no, no, fifty of these on them boobs ought to..." Michelle said, lashing out and bringing the cord down on the girl's bra covered left breast.

The girl screamed, bucked and thrashed; apparently Michelle had managed to strike squarely on the girl's nipple. Michelle waited until the girl ceased with her frenzied bucking before bringing the cord up again.

"No! NO! I, I'll do anything! Just, just no more, no more," the girl sobbed out.

"Anything?" Michelle asked, smiling maliciously as she slipped her tennis shoes from her feet.

"Yeah, yeah, just, just don't hit me no more," the girl whimpered.

"Okay," Michelle said, unzipping her shapeless stained jeans.

"Oh! Oh hey, nuh uh," the girl said as Michelle eased her jeans down over her heavy legs.

"Oh. Okay," Michelle shrugged, grabbing the electrical cord again.

"No!" the girl shrieked. "No! No! I, I'll do it, I'll do it."

Michelle's father, Hector Ruiz was a very sarcastic man. He was especially acerbic with his two daughters; they were not as valued as a son would have been. Therefore Hector did not spare either Michelle or Serena his barbed tongue, his scathing remarks.

"Excellent," Michelle said, delivering the word in her father's deadpan and cutting manner.

She said the word just as her father had done so many times, letting Michelle, Serena or Victoria, their mother know just how unimpressed he actually was. The word, normally a word of praise, was a dagger aimed to inflict pain from the bitter man.

Michelle wiggled out of her full cotton briefs, suddenly ashamed of their worn, tattered appearance. Even though she'd seen the condition of the girl's undergarments, Michelle did not want the girl seeing Michelle's own deplorable undergarments. She did not want the girl seeing that Michelle was no better than her. Since the blonde had her eyes firmly shut, leaking tears, she did not see the condition of Michelle's undergarment.

Crawling onto the bed, Michelle flopped down and spread her legs. Using the blonde's hair, Michelle pulled the girl's body into position. Still using the hair, Michelle pushed the blonde's face between her legs.

"I, I..." the girl whimpered.

"Start. Licking. Now," Michelle growled

The girl gave a cautious lick with a small pink tongue. The tongue made contact with Michelle's flabby inner lips and the girl shuddered in distaste. Michelle wiggled down slightly, bringing her pussy closer to the girl's hesitant tongue.

"Better start licking now," Michelle threatened and the girl gave another shudder.

A few swipes of her tongue later, the girl was sobbing. With a sigh, Michelle got up from the bed. She walked over to the low dresser and grabbed the remote control for the television.

Returning to the bed as the television clicked on, Michelle saw that the girl was wiping her snotty nose on the polyester bedspread. She physically rolled the girl over twice; she had no desire to put her ass on the blonde's snot puddle.

"Here we go; some inspiration for you," Michelle said, selecting 'Lesbian' pornography on the television.

Looking on the screen, Michelle saw two nude women kissing with passion. She could not tell if their passion was real or simulated but it certainly looked real. With a moan, one girl bent her head and began sucking on the other girl's nipple.

"Gosh, Tiffany," the other girl said breathlessly. "I sure love the way you do that."

"Oh, okay, fake," Michelle thought, slightly disappointed in the imagery on the screen.

"Gee, Britney, if you like that, you're going to love this," 'Tiffany' said as she brought her mouth down to 'Britney's' shaved pussy.

Michelle rearranged the pillows and again wiggled, bringing her pussy close to the blonde's face. She lifted the girl's head by a handful of hair and wiggled down some more.

"Sweetheart," Michelle said, again adopting her father's insulting manner of speech. "Sooner you get me off? The sooner you get done, hear?"

The girl seemed to think about it for a moment. Then, she brought her mouth down and began to lap furiously at Michelle's pussy.

On the screen, an Asian woman was being fisted by a heavily freckled red head with enormous breasts. Over the synthesized music, Michelle could hear the Asian woman grunting and groaning. Michelle could not tell if the woman's grunts were of excitement or of pain. Looking down at the blonde's bony buttocks, Michelle felt a shiver of excitement ripple through her.

"That, oh, that, that's it, yes, that, yes!" Michelle gasped out then shuddered in orgasm as the blonde tongued her clitoris.

On the screen, the red head and the Asian woman kissed, using quite a bit of tongue. The red head continued thrusting her fist into the Asian woman's sparsely furred pussy, twisting the clenched fist from side to side.

"Oh! You, you good lover! You killing me, you good lover," the Asian woman declared.

"That was so nice," Michelle sneered, patting the girl on her head. "Good girl. Good girl."

"Fuck..." the girl started to spit out but stopped herself.

"Oh? Got something to say?" Michelle taunted.

The girl said nothing. Michelle patted her on her head again and wiggled around to kneel behind the girl. On the screen, three women were in a daisy chain, lapping at each other's pussies.

"In fact, you were so good, I'm going to do something nice for you," Michelle cooed.

Pulling on the girl's bony hips, Michelle managed to put the girl on her shoulders and knees. Michelle smiled a malicious smile; the girl's pussy was noticeably wet. Her light pink inner lips peeked through the thatch of brown fur, puffy and wet.

"Ack! I, what, what are you doing?" the girl protested as Michelle thrust two fingers into her wet depths.

Michelle didn't answer, just plunged the two fingers in and out, in and out. She paused for a moment and rubbed the girl's clitoris with her thumb. The girl jerked and squawked in protest.

Michelle worked her index, middle and ring finger into the girl's pussy with ease, then added her pinky. The fit was sung but not difficult as Michelle again paused and diddled the girl's clitoris once more.

"Please, please stop, please stop, please stop," the girl sobbed out even as her hips began to shake.

"Oh, but Sweetheart, we're not done yet," Michelle cooed, folding her thumb into the palm of her hand.

"That, no, no," the girl gasped out then shrieked in orgasm.

Michelle's wrist and upper forearm were drenched from the girl's orgasm. Thrusting her hand into the girl, Michelle balled up her fist and plunged into the girl beyond her wrist.

"I, oh, JESUS GOD!" the girl screamed out then blacked out.

Michelle watched a few more moments of lesbianism, glancing from time to time at the slumped form of the girl. Then, pulling her panties, jeans and sneakers on, Michelle left the room.

"Hey; those people in one fifteen just left," Michelle's coworker smiled tightly when Michelle entered the office.

"Yeah?" Michelle asked, grabbing an Acadiana Motel Adult Male Medium tee shirt.

The tee shirts was another waste of money; the vast majority of the people that frequented the motel had no desire to let anyone know they frequented the Acadiana Motel.

"Yeah, fucker's got to be in his sixties and I bet she ain't even twenty years old," the coworker said, distaste evident.

"Hey, hey, what you got against true love, huh?" Michelle joked, leaving the office again.

The girl was still slumped on the bed. Michelle retrieved a face cloth from the bathroom, wetting it in the sink. The television continued to show women loving women as Michelle sponged the girl's sweating face.

"Huh?" Stephanie Mintz groaned, coming to.

"Here," Michelle said, unknotting the torn scraps of the girl's tee shirt.

"I, God damn, God damn, you, you didn't have to..." Stephanie complained, hands immediately cupping her sore pussy.

"And you didn't have to call me 'bitch,'" Michelle reminded the blonde.

"My shirt!" Stephanie whined. "Shit! That, that was my good shirt!"

"That rag? Was your good shirt?" Michelle asked, handing the blonde the AM tee shirt.