Chapter 1

      God of heaven, why this guy always asks me the same question at the same time. When I got back to that hotel room next to my work, this guy, who was about fifty years old, didn't even try to understand.

      He had thrown me against the wall, lowered my thong, opened his fly, and began to fuck me doggy style. With one of his hands, he grabbed my hips to give them a sudden rhythm, and with the other, he pulled my hair back.

      For about 3 minutes, I got the same old dirty talk, like "slut" or "you like that you whore"." In short, nothing really out of the box. He's so horny that he'll probably end up in a few seconds.

      In the meantime, I have to play my part to satisfy this poor guy's last moments.

      What was I saying?

      They come to the club where I work to satisfy their little perverse inclinations and possibly bang a few young girls. But in the end, they don't have much in their pants. I can feel him straying from me and seeing him slump on the bed that he obviously didn't want to reach a few moments ago.

      Will the gentleman be ready for the second round? That's the whole point. I'm still going to have to do the talking to get what I'm looking for finally. These guys, these customers, there's only one way they give pleasure. There is only one thing that makes me enjoy their company. But, for now, it is too early. If I did it like that, now, without a little staging, it would be sorely lacking in flavor.

      I continue to look at this poor guy who will soon focus on all my attention and who will have finally been useful for something today.

      The classic tactic, I hurt his manliness, I make my little look racy, I gently unbutton my blouse, take off my skirt and my underwear under his interested look. I let him scrutinize me, want me to lose my mind.

      He will necessarily want to prove to me that he is a man, a real one. They're so easy to manipulate. So easy to trap, but it's so good. I scan the room for a moment, the bar bed will do, perfect; there is a nightstand by the bed. The scenario of the sequel is set up in my mind.

      - But of course, you'll get what you deserve whore, it was just the foreplay. Come on; I'm going to make you regret not knowing my dick earlier in your life.

      I take out a pair of handcuffs surrounded by fur from my bag and put it on the nightstand. That's good, he understands fast. He's already half-naked. Looks like this charming gentleman is a quick one. Come on, "Joe," according to your look you have to be an insurer or a bathroom salesman.

      Enjoy, it's not every day that your wife agrees with this kind of thing. He lies on the bed, naked as a worm. I put my body on him, take his arms and place them against the bars of the bed. I'm done unbuttoning my blouse. He's lucky. I'm in a playful mood tonight.

      I see the desire in his eyes. I lick his torso and go down to his dick that I put balls deep in my mouth. I can clearly hear him graunting. I play my tongue from the top of his dick down to his balls.

      It shudders slightly, and its tail swells slightly. It burns with impatience; I can feel it. I lift my tongue up his torso and impale myself literally on his penis. I look him straight in the eye.

      He's feverish, and he's waiting for more. I move my hips slightly to give him his last thrills of pleasure. I lean over to my bag and ask him...

      Now, eyes in my eyes, I'm pulling out a cutter. I like that moment when they hesitate. They wonder if I'm joking or if I'm really going to kill them. That's second option, dude. I was the wolf, and you died. Quickly and violently, I cut his veins and put my hand over his mouth. Already on top of him, I admire him bleed to death while struggling. That's where I'm going now. His blood is pouring on the bed, on my thighs. The feeling of warm blood on my skin makes me cum. I watch him die, and very slowly, I feel that his soul is starting to leave his body. Dying with your wrists cut takes time. He will stop struggling quickly since I slashed the artery, but he will still be conscious. It may take him a few hours to die, but I will have already made up the scene in suicide, and I will be home.

      The advantage of these next-generation hotels is that they have no cameras and especially no night receptionists. The automaton does everything at the entrance where there is the only Visio point. And he was the only one recording the room. The police will probably think he decided to kill himself after cheating on his wife. That is what they generally thinks. This is far from the first time for me. I keep seeing that fat pig bleed out in front of my eyes. To do my job well, the important thing is to tighten the handcuffs under the vein to make withers. Blood comes out faster like that.

      I'm going to take a quiet shower. The evening was finally excellent and very satisfying. Another of these bad guys went under my fingers and quite honestly, if I didn't risk getting caught in the street, I'd gladly keep his blood on me to prolong the fun. But all good things unfortunately have an end. When I get out of the shower, I notice that this bastard