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TODAY'S FREE SCAT AND PEE STORY |
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Marvin Blake leaned back in his chair at the local bar and restaurant
tavern of Dayton Ohio and observed the latest of a collection of bimbos to
enter the room. Being a man of great wealth and fortune, Marvin had the
ability to travel the world extensively and exploit many women in the
process. He chuckled to himself at the thought of the record he was
setting in failed and broken marriages and short-term relationships. His
mandate was simple: seduce, perhaps marry, exploit, then leave (or in some
cases be left). Money was his source of power and influence over the
hapless blondes that he met across the world. And there was no shortage of
these types of clueless broads that fell in love and were easily seduced
into his clutches through wealth and money.
Secretly, Mr. Blake was one of the worst perverts a woman could meet.
Though, thanks to years of experience, he was careful not to expose the
dark side of his sexual desires to them - at least not until they were
completely in love with him or fully seduced by his wealth and power. Mr.
Blake loved blondes - especially the type that were not too bright and a bit
on the ditzy side. These were the types that craved lots of attention from
the opposite sex. Specifically, he aimed for the types that were
materialistic in nature - women who based their self worth on how much
jewelry they owned and what type of house and car they had access to. For
Mr. Blake, these women were much more easier to manipulate and seduce into
a relationship - and ultimately his sick and perverted sex games shortly
thereafter.
The blonde cunt he was now observing fit this mold perfectly from a
distance. She had entered the bar with two of her girlfriends. Her
fingers had plenty of cheap gold rings and her wrists were adorned with
semi-lavish jewelry from various ex-boyfriends who wanted to get in her
pants. Judging from her stunning figure and beautiful features, Mr. Blake
could see why. He could tell by the way this slut was knocking down drink
after drink she had obviously turned 21 recently. She was stunningly
gorgeous with long platinum blonde hair that reached down past her slender
shoulders. She was wearing a tight revealing red top that accentuated her
massive breasts. Mr. Blake couldn't quite tell if they were fake or not,
though it didn't really matter to him. Whatever it took for a girl to look
sexy for a man was good enough for him. Her makeup and eyeliner were
heavily applied giving her the appearance of a low class tramp. She was
exactly the type that Mr. Blake preferred.
Obviously this young tart didn't know what high class was. Her whole
appearance was a contradiction in and of itself. On the one hand she was
wearing expensive high-class jewelry revealing her innate desire to appear
wealthy. On the other hand, Mr. Blake could see that she came from a low
class background and poor upbringing because she obviously didn't know how
to dress to match her jewelry. However, her attempt to look rich and
extravagant was clear - and this was an important prerequisite for any
woman under his consideration for sexual exploitation.
Mr. Blake could see that while the jewelry she was wearing was of the
expensive variety, it was nowhere near the kind of jewels he could afford
to buy her. She was not wearing any platinum at all from what he could
see.
The cunning executive smiled to himself. He'd met and dated many bimbos
like this one before. This seduction would be rather easy. Put simply, it
would be a textbook case.
The blonde cunt that Mr. Blake was observing was indeed all that he had
surmised. Her name was Winnie, and she had just turned 21 the day before.
She sat at a nearby barstool anxiously sipping drinks with her friends and
giggling a lot. Winnie was a bundle of excitement and nervousness all
rolled into one. She had never been in a real bar before - at least not
under legal conditions anyway. Being here with her friends made all the
difference in the world. Though Winnie's ultimate goal was to attract a
new boyfriend, she didn't want to be alone while attempting this endeavor -
especially at a bar.
From the earliest age, numerous family members and friends had told
Winnie how pretty she was. The onus of her importance and existence was
almost always centered on how she dressed and looked. Rarely (if ever) was
there ever a mention of her intellectual potential. Her grades at school
were very poor, and it had dawned on her very early on that attracting a
rich and powerful man would save her a lot of hassle in living the good
life. Her self-esteem was nearing rock bottom, and her desire to keep up
with her peers at all costs was increasing every year. Winnie needed a
breadwinner badly. And it was almost a given that she would stop at
nothing to attract the right kind of man.
Though Winnie was by no means an intelligent girl, she did have a clear
understanding of what most men liked in her part of the world. Women were
cherished by how pretty they looked and how feminine they acted. Being
intelligent - or in her case trying to act intelligent - was a sure way to
scare off a great deal of men. It was no coincidence therefore that Winnie
had become a natural giggler and bubble gum blower from a very early age.
Being of low intelligence to begin with, smiling and giggling whenever men
were around came almost natural to her. After a while, it became a habit
that she wasn't even ashamed of. Winnie yearned for love and attention.
Her father almost never gave her the time of day being the heavy drinker
that he was. Her mother never worked a day in her life - instead relying
on her skills in home economics to please her man.
Indeed, Winnie had grown up in an environment that nurtured feminine
subservience and male supremacy - albeit in a subtle way. Winnie wanted
desperately to fall in love with the right kind of man and be whisked away
from her low class surroundings. She wanted to have expensive clothing, a
great car, and a lavish home. Little did she know as she sat there sipping
her vodka martini with her friends that her luck was about to change that
evening - although not necessarily for the better.
Mr. Blake measured his options - given the fact that his intended
victim was surrounded by her giggling entourage. Again, his veteran
instincts took over and he signaled to his waiter. He had to alert this
dumb broad to his presence. And he had to win her over with a token of his
"generosity."
"What can I do for you sir?" Asked the waiter who was obviously kissing
his ass in anticipation of a generous tip.
"See that blonde over there between those two girls?" He inquired.
"Yes sir I do." Replied the waiter sneering a bit.
He had obviously done this routine with many men before - men who were
looking to pick up girls for a quick "one-nighter" at one time or another.
In his humble experience as a waiter, he had seen this ploy fail more often
than not. But given this gentleman's look and appeal, he gave him a chance
of about 50-50.
Mr. Blake was indeed fit for his age. At 48, he had the build of a man
about 15 years younger. He also had the latest style of clothing to match.
With a full head of hair and a slender physique, he could still pass for a
man right out of GQ magazine.
"I'd like to buy her a drink." He stated. "See what she's having then
see to it."
"Yes sir." Replied the waiter.
Mr. Blake calmly looked on as the waiter made his way toward the bar.
His manner and demeanor were smooth and calculated as he stole another
glance over at the hapless blonde. Thankfully the waiter was a pro. He
took his time going toward her end of the bar - checking on other customers
first. Finally he passed by the blonde and glanced briefly at her drink as
he walked by. Then he double-checked by asking the bar tender what it was
she was drinking before placing the order.
Mr. Blake smiled to himself. It wouldn't be long before the blonde
would inquire about him. In his experience, this was done either one of
two ways. The usual scenario when a woman was with her friends was the
"messenger" routine. Mr. Blake disliked this type of ritual because it
was so amateurish and grade school like. He preferred the second of the
two scenarios - the direct approach. Alas, this was usually the only
viable option when a woman was alone - or mature enough to do so even in
the company of companions.
Winnie was neither mature nor well educated. So when she received her
drink, she immediately started whispering excitedly to her friends. Mr.
Blake saw it coming before it even happened. Sure enough, one of the
blonde's friends made her way toward him. The news wasn't all that bad
however - for it wasn't words of rejection.
"My friend's name is Winnie." She began timidly trying not to giggle out
of nervousness. "She wants to thank you for the drink, but she's curious
about who you are."
"Tell her I'm an admirer." Mr. Blake replied making sure to flash his
gold rings and expensive Rolex watch.
The bimbo smiled timidly and returned toward her two friends at the bar.
'Typical.' Thought Mr. Blake to himself. He hated this type of
childish routine. But in order to obtain young cunt, he had to play the
game. With that goal in mind, he finally managed to relax himself. After
all, this was all part of the plan. He had done this many times before
with very rewarding results sexually rewarding to be more specific.
Mr. Blake turned briefly and stole another glance at Winnie's tight -
jean clad bottom. What a seductive name she had. Indeed, much sexual
pleasure could be derived from such a blonde bimbo as this dumb little
tart. Mr. Blake's sadistic mind began to run in circles. His thoughts
began to wander into the deepest realms of depravity. He began thinking of
all the perverse gratification he would obtain from the special things he
would have Winnie do - especially with that sexy young bottom of hers. His
thick penis began to grow in his pants at all the disgusting and degrading
things he had in store for her once he had her wrapped around his finger -
both literally and figuratively.
Mr. Blake's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden departure of
Winnie's two friends as they made there way out of the bar. Apparently his
hint of wealth and power had been conveyed to Winnie by her friend and the
young blonde had decided to take a chance. Mr. Blake could tell that it
was a big one on her part. He could tell just by the way she was fidgeting
and glancing over at him nervously that she had never been alone with a man
in a bar scene before. He took the hint, but decided to test her obedience
and submissiveness from the outset by motioning her to come to him. Most
other men would make there way over to the woman's side of the room. But
not Mr. Blake. It was much easier to measure a woman's desperation or
passiveness by whether or not they stood up and came over to HIS side of
the room.
In almost every case, Mr. Blake was careful to pre-select women with a
natural tendency toward submissiveness. He had become a magnificent body
language reader over the years. And he could see through many women's
insecurities just by the way they moved their hands through their hair and
also by the way they dressed. In rare cases, he had been wrong in his
preconceptions. Occasionally, the woman he was stalking did not get up for
him. When this happened, Mr. Blake never pursued the relationship any
further making sure to avoid conversation altogether.
Mr. Blake despised liberated women. And he preyed upon helpless
females who were extremely insecure about themselves and sought
self-assurance and ego gratification through the approval of men - or in
Mr. Blake's case, father figures. Mr. Blake could tell that Winnie didn't
receive much attention from her father even before the two had spoken a
word. He could tell this by the way she quickly stood up grinning from in
ear to ear at the thought of receiving any sort of attention from a strange
man at a bar. Apparently she wasn't nervous about him at all, she was
simply nervous about how she looked and whether she would impress him
enough to take her out or not - hence the nervous hand gestures and quick
glances.
Mr. Blake watched Winnie walk toward him. Though she obviously wasn't
very bright, she did know how to wiggle her ass when she walked. This was
a trick most insecure women learned and mastered at a very early age.
Winnie wasn't wearing any high heels, but this would soon change as Mr.
Blake got to know her better.
As she walked toward him, Winnie felt extremely nervous. But his beckon
was strong and alluring. And now that she had already decided to obey his
call, she found it impossible to resist or ignore - let alone turn back.
She wasn't used to approaching men under any circumstance. In most cases,
guys tended to approach her. Winnie had grown accustomed to this kind of
treatment. Despite her constant insecurity, she knew full well that she
was well endowed when it came to good looks. She knew that most men were
attracted to her tits, and a lot of men told her so. Yet for some strange
reason, the men she went to bed with usually left her for good the next
morning. Some of the men would fake interest and promise to call her, but
they never followed up. This type of rejection made her feel even more
insecure. But the stupid blonde had no idea why the men were dumping her
the next day.
In truth, men saw her for what she was - a dumb blonde slut who was only
worthy of a one night stand. Winnie was blind to this, and so she yearned
to become a better "woman" no matter what the cost - even if it meant
breast augmentation or applying more makeup. She just didn't understand.
Nor could her tiny brain even begin to fathom the truth about why men
didn't respect her. It was indeed a vicious cycle of trying to prove her
worth through the only means she knew how - sex. The men, in turn, would
lose respect for her afterward.
Perhaps this older man would be a change for the better. From all
outward appearances, he appeared to be well dressed, quite handsome, and
rich. Winnie hated admitting it to herself, but a man's wealth and power
was of the highest priority on her list of materialistic desires.
"Hel...hello sir." Winnie stammered as she made her way to an empty
chair.
"Good evening Winnie. It is Winnie isn't it?" Responded Mr. Blake as
he calmly took a sip from his drink.
"Yes sir it is." Blushed Winnie trying to hide her nervousness.
Mr. Blake wasn't shy about eyeing her up. In fact, is visual advances
were blatantly clear from the outset. This made Winnie even more nervous -
though this was not the first time a man had eyed her body up and down. In
fact, she was more concerned that she would somehow fail his visual
inspection. The man was clearly rich, and Winnie began to breath heavily
as it began to dawn on her that she had struck gold literally.
Mr. Blake completed his visual inspection. He was pleased to see that
Winnie fell in line with his routine. She had stood there patiently in the
open while he completed his visual sweep of her large firm tits and tight
cut-off jeans. Satisfied with the results, he motioned for her to take a
seat across from him.
"My name is Marvin Blake." He began. "It's nice to meet a pretty young
lady like you. Would you care for some dinner to go along with those
drinks you've been having?"
Winnie blushed at the compliment. Her dim little mind was running in
circles at the possibility of dating such a wealthy man. His question
demanded and answer, and as much as she didn't like to admit how poor she
was at home, she was indeed hungry.
"Y...yes Mr. Blake...if it's OK with you." She stammered again unable
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