The Local Flavour - Sex Stories

The Local Flavour

... dump, you ungrateful bastard.’ She raises the horse whip and lashes it repeatedly across my dick, my balls and my hips. I try to dodge the blows, but it is futile as I am tied to the bed. ‘You are absolutely useless. I don’t know what I ever saw in you. Is it really so hard to please a woman? Am I asking so much?’ ‘N-no, of course not. It’s not that.’ ‘Then what is it? Is it me? You don’t like me?’ ‘No. Yes. I like you. Very much, as a matter of fact.’ ‘Then what? Is it my body? Am I too fat? Do I smell?’ ‘No no, your body is just fine. Actually I like your body a lot.’ ‘Is it my shit then? Is it too soft? Too hard? Does it taste bad?’ ‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’ I’m not sure how to say this without offending her. The shitting part was truly the worst experience I have ever gone through in my life, yet had it not been for the taste, I think I could have enjoyed it more than I care to admit. For a woman to dump the waste of her body into a man’s mouth is truly the ultimate expression of her power over him. Thinking about it, I kind of regret having been unable to cope with the taste. While she was shitting into my mouth, I had felt a strange energy invade every fiber of my body. It was as if she was taking over my body with the shit she was dumping into me. It made me feel so close to her, closer than I had ever felt being with anybody before. ‘Oh, I remember. You like the local taste. Didn’t you say that?’ ‘Well yes, but…’ ‘Don’t be shy. I understand. I think I can arrange ...

... something for you.’ She sits down on the edge of the bed, picks up the telephone and dials reception. ‘Yes, this is Mrs. Hutchinson. Say, is Ernesto still working here? … Ernesto, the night concierge. … Yes, that’s him. Is he on duty tonight? … Great. Could you put me through to him, please?’ She covers the speaker with the palm of her hand and turns to me. ‘I have heard wonders about this guy. They say there is nothing he cannot get, if the money is right.’ Then she’s talking into the speaker again. ‘Don Ernesto? Good evening, how are you. This is Mrs. Hutchinson, from the penthouse suite. … Yes, thank you. … Don Ernesto, you don’t know me, but I’ve heard some very nice things about you. Do you remember Mr. Douglas from Chicago? … Yes, he comes here every year. He is a dear friend, and he recommended me this hotel, and you in particular. Now, I was wondering … Yes, well I have kind of a special request. … Thank you, that is so nice of you to say. Well, I’m here in room 723 with my friend Frank and we’re planning on a nice evening, so we thought we might want some company. … Yes, special company. Three of them, actually. … No no no, they must be locals. … I don’t care. … No, nothing high class, just ordinary local girls. … Yes, well my friend here likes the local flavor. … Hang on a second, I’ll ask him.’ She turns back to me. ‘Are you into transvestites? He says he knows some real nice ones.’ ‘No, no, please don’t bother. Can’t we just…’ ‘No, just girls. But they have to local. ...