Thread: Hotel Brothel (xMILENKOx & LataPaine)

Hey Good Lookin'... What you got Cookin..' The words of Hank William's Hey Good Lookin' echoed through the dimly lit motel room from a old transistor radio sat in the corner on a old 50's style dresser. The music was occasionally interrupted by the sounds of a fist beating flesh, frustrated grunts and the fatigued whimpers that followed while a fine suit and a wallet containing Police Identification lay upon the bed. Opposite the bed was a tall muscular man whose face was clad only in a black gimp mask that hid his face, infront of him was a young women dressed like a school girl tied to a chair with her face badly bruised and beaten with her head hanging low as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Blood was splatted across the mans naked stomach and crotch along with the woman's clothes and the surrounding furniture. Whats wrong baby? You tired? The masked man asked as he took hold of the woman's chin and lifted her head so she looked up to him, her eyes were glazed with blood and tears while the dim light that hung from the ceiling behind the man's head blinded her. She gave no reply as she simply fell unconscious, her head falling heavy in the man's hand who simply let her it fall limp. The man grinned and laughed sadistically as he stood with a full erection. I'M DONE! He yelled in his brash southern tongue as he tilted his head to look to the door. The room door opened slowly, the warm 834am morning sun crept into the dark room as a younger unmasked man entered. This second man looked over the beaten woman and shook his head, letting out a sigh he rubbed his shaven head as he turned his attention to the masked man. You made a real mess of her face!.. Shit man, she was one of our best girls! The younger man announced as he watched the other man remove his mask. As the mask was removed and threw upon the bed it was clear who it was and why he wore a mask. This was Captain Frank Dempsey of the local police. Frank was a old man aged 52, he had gone bald and sported a well groomed and trimmed greying goatee beard and mustash combination. Frank paid little attention to the younger man as he wiped the blood from his body and hands with a already blood stained towel. So? She is just another whore... You and your Daddy got plenty of them! Frank replied as he turned away from the younger man and made his way into the bathroom to shower. This younger man was Derek Green, a 24 year old Neo-Nazi skinhead, gang member and son of the motel's owner. Derek was tall with a slim yet muscular physique, his head and face were freshly shaven and his ice blue were currently hidden behind a pair of black circular shades. Derek was clad simply in a black vest that revealed his heavily tattooed arms and torso, black combat pants that were tucked into a pair of black combat boots. Derek shook his head once again as he walked over to the beaten women, while in the background all he could hear was the shower. Shit.. this bitch is gonna need alot of fucking drugs to take that pain away... He muttered to himself and he casually untied her restraints before lifting her out of the chair and up over his left shoulder. As if this was nothing out of the ordinary he casually carried the beaten women like a sack of potatoes out of the room and out onto the second floor walkway. DEREK!.. WHEN ARE YOUR FRIENDS GETTING HERE WITH MY PUSSY! Yelled Derek's father from the parking lot, Derek stopped in his tracks for a moment still with the beaten woman over his shoulder. SOON!.. Derek yelled back before he continued along the walk way to one of the rooms they stored the women who were not currently in use. With a low growl Derek's father Henry Green shook his head in a pissed off manner as he casually smoked a cigarette. He was a short man standing around 5'6 with slightly over weight build and round beer gut. His grey hair receded back past the his crown leaving only a strip of wiry greasy hair around the back and sides of his hair. His round face looked as though it was hanging heavy on his skull and a untidy stubble littered his face while his grey bloodshot eyes were sunken in dark circles and hidden behind a pair of old reading glasses with brown tinted lenses. Henry always wore a dirty white vest that clung to his gut that was obviously too small for him beneath a red plaid shirt, a pair of dirty blue jeans and a pair of old brown boots. Henry was waiting for his next shipment of women which was soon visible on the horizon. A old black van approached the motel through the run down part of town, passing abandoned buildings and piles of garbage. Its about fucking time! Henry groaned as the van got closer, once it was in the parking lot four other skinheads emerged from the van and began to unload the women.