Flat Tire

She was all New York Glam, waltzing into the small gas station. Her over-large sunglasses hid her eyes, but her hair, platinum blonde, was perfectly coiffed. The pimple-faced teen at the register watched her sashay into the small space, her perfume rolling over the more familiar scents of grease and oil.

“My tire is flat.”

That was about the only flat thing, Marty thought, wiping his hands on a rag as he came out of the garage area. Her ass was the kind described as “bubble butt” and his cock responded instantly. Thankfully his cover-alls hid Mr. Woody. He had a real thing for a fine ass.

“Help you, miss?”

She turned slowly, sliding her glasses down her nose with well manicured fingers, her eyes snapping.

“I said,” she began, her tone sizzling ice, “that I have a flat tire. You will attend to it, now.”

Pushing her Ray Bans back into place, she turned her back to him.

“Round here, we say please, and thank you, Miss.”

She shook her head, and Junior at the register knew she was rollin’ her eyes behind the shades. Whoopie but she was gonna be in a lick of trouble if she pissed off Marty. He was the most mild-mannered of men, most times. But stroke him the wrong way? He knew, in his gut that she was going to push. And push. And push. He could hardly wait.

“I said…”

“I heard what you said. This is a garage. You work on automobiles.”

Her words, while reasonable, were made ugly by the implied sneer in her tone. Marty was proud of this business, one he’d taken over from his daddy when he was all but 19. He’d made a go of it, too, no small accomplishment in this day and age.

“So go out there and fix my flat tire.”

“Seems to me that you’re at a bit of a disadvantage. If I decline to ‘help’ you, you’ll have to find another mechanic. Not another one ’round these parts for…oh, about 80 miles or so.”

“I can call my triple a,” she began. Pimple kid pointed over his shoulder where the emblem hung on the wall.

“You can’t deny me service.”

“Oh, little lady, I can indeed. My garage, my rules. I don’t make so much on their dole that I’d lose much by ignoring one call.”

“You’re an imbecile. And rude.”

She whirled, jabbing her finger into his chest.

He snapped. Tugging the greasy rag from his pocket that he’d used to wipe his hands, he grabbed her wrist and shoved the rag in as she opened her mouth to yelp. Swinging her around, he caught the other wrist, and steered her into the garage.

“All right Miss High Horse. You’ll get your ‘service’. Junior, pull her car into bay 2, close the door, and turn down the lights. We just closed early. Then come on back and help me show our ‘guest’ some manners.”

Junior leapt from behind the counter, fishing in her pocket for the keys as she struggled, pathetic whimpers coming from behind the cloth the boss had shoved deep behind her ruby lips. With great daring, he grabbed her tits, great huge knockers, and squeezed, before grabbing the keys and running for the yard.

In seconds, the sound of a fine motor hummed to life. The kid drove the car into the second bay, the sound a lumbering thud typical of a car rolling on a flat. She was ushered to the back of the garage even as the bay doors began their creaking descent. The bell on the door jangled as Junior wrangled it closed, locked it, and flipped the OPEN sign over, slashing at the light switch in his haste, once, twice, until he pushed it off at last, plunging the storefront into near darkness, lit only by the Interstate Battery sign on the back wall.

By the time he got back to the garage, the woman had her skirt pulled up, her hands secured to the motor block of the old Ford that Marty had been rebuilding, and Marty’s hands were moving over the perfect moons of her ass.

The slap, when it came, echoed around the cinderblock walls.

“Time to spank some manners into your fine ass.”

Juniors cock rushed to life. The feel of the tits lingered on his hands, the sight of the bare ass, panties at mid-thigh, stockings held up by garters….mah gawd, garters. He’d only seen the like in girly magazines, or porn sites online. There was a big red handprint appearing on her white ass.

“Marty,” he groaned.

“Geezuz, kid. Fine, do it.”

Marty stepped aside, and in seconds Junior held his long thin penis in his hand, pumping it slowly as he moved towards the holy grail. Her slit was right there her cuntlips were fat and juicy. He pressed his cockhead against them and she grunted, shifting her hips trying to move away.

“Ya gotta take her in hand, boy. Hold her steady and fuck. Don’t let her control your cock, boy. Men take.”

His hands almost shaking, Junior grabbed her hips. She wriggled.

“Stay still, cunt.”

The word was foreign–at least to say to a woman– so dirty that he felt cum drip from the slit of his shaft. With a moan, his fingers dug into her thin hips, and he bucked forward, sliding into her pussy hole. Though she tried to yell, it was muffled. With vigor, he plunged and withdrew until he felt the tightening in his balls that presaged the splatter of his cum inside her.

He pulled out, depleted. Cum oozed from her cunt. He always did have a lot of it.  He liked the way it pearled at the entry hole, then slipped down over the folds.

“Done?”

Nodding, he stepped away, folding his cock back into his boxers. Marty stepped to the side of the woman, fisting his fingers into her hair, tugging her head, making her back arch. It looked for all the world as though she was presenting her ass to them. It looked fucking hot.

“Take my cell phone and get pictures of her dripping cunt and her ass. If she’s a good girl, they’ll stay in my phone and not get posted to a porn meeting site, with her name, phone number and address.”

She made a noise in her throat.

“Yes, I know you’ll be a good girl. You city sluts are the worst. But you learn quick, I’ll give you that.”

There was the mechanical whirr that the phone made while taking pictures. One, two, seven, ten.

“Now a picture of her license, Junior.”

Another click.

“Yup that shows her address. I’ll bet her cell’s in her purse. Let’s just jot that number down, too.”

She tried to toss her head, to kick her feet. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling her head back further.

“Got it, boss.”

Marty’s cock was so hard that it ached. He was going to hold off as long as he could–it’d been a long while since he’d seen so fine an ass…and he was gonna enjoy it to the max.

He took a pair of chains, used to hoist engines, and wrapped an end of each around her ankles, securing it with a zip strip through each thick loop. The other ends he fastened to the lolly columns that supported the garage roof. Her legs were spread, her ass poking up, her head muffled.

Finger swiping over the plump wetness of her pussy, he smeared the wet goo along her asshole. He debated about pushing his finger up there, to loosen her up a bit. But he loved, adored, craved that feeling when the tight ring was breached, the desperate grab around his shaft as he made entry. His cock pulsed. ‘Down boy,’ he thought, ‘just relax…you’ll get your turn.’

Taking up a drive belt, he swished it through the air a few times. It made a satisfying swish. He struck her ass. She yelled, loudly. Though the sound was greatly reduced by the filthy rag in her mouth it was a satisfying noise.

“Manners.”

Slap, slap, slap.

“Are.”

This stroke was hard, hitting along her lower back and into the deep crevasse of her split-tail.

“Very.”

Slap along the top of one thigh, the other. She tried to dance, to wriggle away–the chains held her fast.

“Fucking.”

Fore-and back arm strokes, slashing along the round orbs of her buttock. Red welts had blossomed wherever the rubber belt had landed.

“Important.”

These last strikes were hard, unforgiving.

She shrieked, her entire body stiffening as the pain penetrated, then went limp. He busied himself with putting the belt back on the workbench until she regained consciousness. There was a certain gratuitousness to her fainting. Message received, boom.

“She’s not…dead…is she?”

He’d almost forgotten that Junior was there.

“Nope, just fainted. Those rubber belts hurt like fuck-all. She won’t forget this beating for a while. Seems her daddy did her no good by goin’ easy on her ass as a kid. Spoiled skank.

“I’m gettin’ hard again.”

“Well, Mr. Speed Dick, you’re gonna have to wait. Later you can titty fuck her, you’ll enjoy that.”

“Titty fuck? You mean that’s a real thing?”

Dry laughter filled the room.

“Kid, you have no fuckin’ idea what there is out there. The world is a fucking kinky place.”

Goldilocks had stirred. He moved over to the car, fished the cloth out of her mouth.

“You can scream all you want, slut. No one around to hear you. Dark out now, hardly no one goes out this road on a Tuesday night. And oh, but golly I want to hear your voice when my cock slides inside your asshole.”

Her words spilled out, including ‘please, please please no’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘let me go’…all the usual things one might expect. His hands stroked along her glowing ass, smacking now and again when her blatting annoyed him. He unzipped the front of his coveralls, and released Mr. Big. He wanted to strut to where she could see what was gonna breach her, but he figured surprise was just as much fun.

He pressed.

She resisted.

He felt her clenching, the tightening of her buns. He imagined she did those videos like his wife did, ass of steel and such, but it wouldn’t stop him, any more than it did when Edna tried. Course, that was all in the game he and Edna played…she came like a New York fire boat when he fucked her backdoor. He imagined that Miss High Horse’s butthole was small and tight, being as her ass wasn’t all that big to begin with. He peered down, saw the tiny pink pucker. Yup. It was small, alright. He smiled to himself.

Pushing the head of his cock against that little butt-wink, his fingers pulled her cheeks apart, until her resisting, clenching butthole began to spread.

She cried out when the enormous head pressed through her tight anal ring.

She cried as the long thick shaft slid oh-so-slowly deep into her bowels.

She wailed as he pulled out and slammed back in.

“Say it.”

He pulled away, then plunged inside.

Her shriek was followed by her gasp.

“Say it.”

He stroked impossibly deeper, rough and mean.  He was the barnyard dog, proving to the bitch who was boss.

Her ass quivered under the onslaught of the fat mean dick in her bunghole. In and out,  he sawed his way into her guts.

“PLEASE!!” She screamed, her anus throbbing. She imagined blood. She imagined tearing, and irreparable harm to her rectum. It  hurt. It fucking hurt, the bloody fucking asshole bastard!

“Again!”

“PLEASE!” she hollered.

“Please what?”

His tone was silky, husky, with a grunt at the end as he sheathed himself. She swore she felt the slap of his fat balls on her pussy, her clit trembling from the repeated blows of his sac on it.

“Please…ungh…oh…oh fuck…please…”

He sped up, pulling just half-way out now, his hips working hard and fast, a human piston plunging into the tight hot tunnel. Sweat popped on his forehead, his palms, making his grip on her hips slip. His nails dug into her flesh, half-moons of grease left on her skin.

“….change my tire…please…”

“Sir.”

“Sir.”

Her words came quickly, until she groaned, her nipples pearling tight as her cunt clenched. A stream of girl cum spurted between her splayed legs, landing with an audible spatter.

“She fucking pissed!”

“Squirted. Seems our Miss High Horse is a squirter who likes her asshole plunged by a nice hard cock.”

“Nooooo”

Her ‘no’ faded off as she came again. He felt the laxness as she passed out. No matter. His cock spurted once, twice, releasing his own juice into her bowels. She’d shit cum for a week, he thought with a chuckle.

*************************

She woke up, spread eagle on the floor, naked. Her tits were squeezed between Juniors hands, his cock plunging in the tight tunnel he’d created. Her eyes opened as jets of cum landed on her face, her mouth, her nose. Her eye stung as one fat wad landed dead on her baby blue.

“owwww!” she yelped, but he just crouched there, smiling that vapid smile.

******************************

Her cell rang as she was tooling down the road. It was Linda, of course.

“Hi hon, sorry I’m going to be late. Yes. I know. I had a flat in East Bumfuck.”

She winced at the truth in those words.

“No, I had to get the owner to open up and change my tire. No, I’m fine, just took some time I hadn’t planned on. I’ll be there in a few hours. Sure thing. Toodles.”

She shifted in her seat, trying to adjust the thing he’d duct taped into her ass as a reminder. He’d put the tape over her pussy fur, so it would hurt like fuck to take off. She winced. She didn’t know what it was in her asshole, but it was big. Not as big as that mammoth cock of his. She frowned. Fucking asshole, treating her that way.

She’d be stopping by for an oil change next week.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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4 Responses to Flat Tire

  1. SouthernSir says:

    Hmmm wonder what cums…errr comes with an oil change??

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