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CuckooCrisp — Weasel
#daz3d #booty #mixedmedia #redhead #struggling #sizedifference #liftandcarry #tranquilizerdart #dazstudioiray
Published: 2024-02-25 00:12:44 +0000 UTC; Views: 8111; Favourites: 40; Downloads: 10
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krakuss009!
His hands couldn't stop shaking. Sitting there at the table in the modest sidewalk cafe, Weasel lived up to his name: a thin, pale forty-something year old with premature baldness and glasses...A pathetic image that looked even more ridiculous next to Torres in her camoflauged gym shorts showing off her biceps and perfect, round ass.
WEASEL: You have to understand me please... alright, I made a couple of bad decisions, I wanted easy money... I don't deserve to die for that!
Torres could barely hide her yawn, the guy's tearful story had not moved her one bit and she wanted to take a shower…
TORRES: Did I cut back on my routine today because of this?
WEASEL: Please help me, these people are dangerous, I need protection…
TORRES: (eye roll), I'm not a bodyguard... if you need protection, go to the police…
WEASEL: I'm t-too deep in shit for that...they'll ask questions...I have people following me, please…
After losing patience, a disgruntled Torres leaves the table…
TORRES: (sigh), It sucks to be you…never call me again, camarada...
WEASEL: Please, I'll pay you double, triple! Take it as if it were murder, what does it matter!?! They sent someone big! A giant redhead! With piercings and-
Those words made her stop.
TORRES: Redhead? Piercings? Was she a punk lady?
Weasel nodded, as his face paled as he saw something behind Torres...
WEASEL: It's...it's...
Out of the corner of her eye, Torres could see in the glass of the sideboard the figure of a woman approaching with a gun, ready to shoot the guy...
...before he could finish the sentence, she had grabbed him by his shirt and thrown him to the floor under the table.
The red-haired woman was about to pull the trigger, when Torres managed to grab her by the wrist and disarm her on the move.
When she tried to subdue her she could feel the punk's powerful muscles fighting and resisting: it was Remington, an old rival. They struggled and Torres tried to put her in a sleeperhold...but Remington was a formidable enemy.
Suddenly, Torres felt a sting in her ass.
Without letting go of her opponent, she could see in the reflection of the sideboard that Weasel was standing with a gun in his hands... but what had come out of the barrel was not a bullet...In a few seconds she felt her strength leave her and Remington was free...
REMINGTON: You were too trusting, bitch...
Torres put her hand on her ass and removed the tranquilizer dart...She couldn't believe she had fallen into that kind of trap.
She tried to throw a punch at Remington but it was useless, her vision blurred and she missed, landing face-first on the floor.
Weasel was shaking like a leaf, he couldn't believe what he had done.
REMINGTON: Wake up, weakling, we have to go...
WEASEL: So this is over, right? The debt is forgotten...
REMINGTON: Stop talking shit and help me carry her...
WEASEL: What??
Without another word, Remington lifted Torres off the floor by her armpits and approached Weasel. She takes the tranquilizer dart away from Weasel.
REMIGTON: Did you think I was going to do all the dirty work?
Weasel was speechless as he saw how Torres's fainted body was falling on top of him...He had to make a superhuman effort to receive her on his shoulder and resist her weight.
WEASEL: You can’t do this! We had a deal!...
REMIGTON: Oh stop whining and move your ass, loser...the police may be on their way.
Weasel couldn't believe what was happening: he had Torres' perfect, muscular ass right next to his face and he felt that the weight of the fainted woman was sinking him into the ground...he tried to take a few steps but his legs were shaking. ..
WEASEL: Help me...I can't...
He watched as Remington walked away towards the alley at the back without paying attention to him.
He tried to breathe deeply and walk with the enormous weight of Torres on his shoulder...each step was torture, he could feel his body bathed in sweat and all the muscles in his body burning, his glasses fogged up and didn't let him see the way. ...
WEASEL: I'm going to die... I'm dying...
Finally he managed to turn the corner into the alley, in the back, a van was parked, and Remington was waiting for him.
WEASEL: I can't take it anymore...I…can't...
He could feel his knees buckling and everything turning black…It was the last effort, and as best he could, he clung to Torres' sweaty muscular butt to travel the last stretch that seemed eternal to him...
REMINGTON: Ugh, this is pathetic...I never thought I would see Torres passed out and carried like this...and the first time it happens, a loser like you has that honor...No one is going to believe it..
With his last strength he managed to back up and hurl the unconscious Torres into the van.
The deed was done, as he collapsed on the floor, exhausted.
A patrol siren could be heard in the distance.
WEASEL: My heart...I'm dying...
REMINGTON: I can't believe it...Don't tell me I have to carry your skinny ass now...
Weasel didn't have the strength to respond.
REMINGTON: Ugh...
She picked him up off the floor like he was a rag doll and put him over her shoulder.
REMINGTON: I guess this means you're in...Welcome to the family, loser.
She said while spanking his ass, not knowing if he had felt it, and then threw him into the van over Torres' body.
The loser's face had planted right on the woman's perfect booty, as Remington shuts the doors behind him...it was definitely his lucky day.
THE END.
(A request with an added backstory! How fun!)
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