Hustler photography by chas ray

Dressed in her smoky lingerie, Hollis surveys the cozy lodge room while I pour drinks. She shows off something with every move. A man could do some crazy, foolish things under her influence. I find the dead eyes of the mounted deer’s head on the wall a little creepy, but it’s just the kind of sight that inspires her. Plucking off the loosely mounted antlers, Hollis exhibits her pussy, wonders aloud if she could get the point of a horn in there. I’ve put some pretty hard objects in that hole, but this seems a little reckless.

So much the better. Stripping naked, Hollis climbs in the chair, teasing herself all over with the sharp end of the stag’s rack, leaving long, red trails of scratches on her fine, fair flesh. She likes things that hurt a little, or even a lot.

The hunter’s trophy graces her backside, nicely framing her shaved slit. I could happily plug that socket right now, but she wants to play things out. Looking me straight in the eye, she slowly inserts the wicked tip, working it carefully around inside, legs tossed wide to give me the best view. The deeper she penetrates herself, the scarier it gets, and the harder she breathes. It’s just the kind of thing that gets her off, and she proves it with a sudden burst of spasms. Now it’s my turn to join the party. Hollis may be twisted, but she knows how to make a point.

Radeo Outlaw

Photography by Chas Ray

Her face is innocent but deceptive. With clothes on, there’s little hint of the transformation I’ve watched over the weeks and months under the tattoo machine. I’ve rarely had the chance to do so much radical work on such an unmarked canvas in so short a time, yet she always wants more. The stars around her pierced nipples hurt like hell, and nothing is worse than the shading on her delicate throat, but Radeo never flinches or cries. The hammering of the needle only sends her into nirvana. The inscription over her nether jewelry says it “Italian for sweet life”.

Life is sweet indeed with a pretty package who pays in trade. She shows up at our favorite no-tell motel as to settle up as soon as the fresh ink is healed, always wearing some creative item of slut-wear she’s designed herself. Radeo favors cutouts, sometimes over the fine crease of her haunches, sometimes showing off her pink-shaded tits. She can be unexpectedly playful, jumping me with toy six-guns as I get out of the shower so she has to be subdued. When she just strips and turns her back, showing the path of leopard spots that leads my gaze to her tail, I know she wants it in the ass, no romance. But when she sprawls on the floor at my feet, gazing up longingly, I realize that I’ll never be able to predict her whims. She’s a rebel and she’ll always be, and she’ll carry my mark wherever she roams.