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Rhonda Gets Broke 2: The Dirty Diaries	By : TimedWatcher Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 7433 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Rhonda's eyes fluttered as she awoke in a room of extravagant reds and blacks. Her stripped and nude body lay in a sea of crimson, a soft mattress that she felt could envelop her. She twinkled her feet, and the edge of the bed seemed so far away between her toes, making her feel even smaller than usual.
And in he stepped, the masked man.
Rhonda jumped with a shriek, her knees and thighs pressed together doing what little she could to protect herself. "Are you gonna-"
"No." His calm and stern voice came swiftly, amplified in an obscuring way. "I'm going to strip you of your dignity."
"Is that so?" The question made Rhonda regret saying that instantly. Rhonda guffawed a little trying to make light. "You'd have to do a lot to make me feel ashamed." He stared at her through slits, unbreaking his vision, and she could only respond by breaking hers constantly, looking up to see him still looking at her again and again. He moved in closer, picking up what seemed to be a string, but with a heavy wedged middle. Rhonda had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "W-w-what is that?"
The dog leash was yanked, cinching the collar like a noose around her neck, pulling Rhonda from the bed. Her face was thrown for a loop, her eyes wide as she saw the ground, and barely was fast enough to stop herself from colliding with the ground with two of her hands, the impact still painful. "Hey, what's the big idea-" She again was pulled, and this time, she took heel. She walked on all fours, the wooden floors were at least polished, though hardly ideal against her smooth skin. He would sometimes wait for her, checking up on her position. Rhonda gave him disapproving looks, but did little to buck or bray from his hold on her.
His front door squeaked and scraped, and the outside world made her shiver, the cool night moon drawing down. She looked up to her temporary master with doting dog eyes, and he walked down his steps, inviting her to follow, wagging the line. She tried to move slowly on her hands and knees, counting each in her head mentally as she tried to find the right pace as to not scrape them - but the man hurried her along, and her knees felt the brunt of it going down, the roughness of grazing surface scratches against her skin, her toes colliding with silent thuds, which made her retract them into a protective c-shaped curls.
Then like it was the most natural thing in the world, he began a casual stride. Rhonda couldn't believe how much this was taking out of her, her nose inhaling sharply. Not even being screwed doggy style several times in a row got her like this. She had to be protective of herself while being fully vulnerable and having to constantly readjust herself in a way that didn't feel natural -- as Rhonda raised her head to street level, she realised, even in the afterhours, there were still people milling about. Her eyes watered, as she affixed her head down to the ground. 'Oh god, he was right.' Counting the cracks as one hand replaced the other in her field of view, Rhonda just hoped not to be noticed.
They stopped again, her face nearly colliding into his pantleg. "One last thing." He lowered down. Rhonda sat confused for a moment, before her nose crinkled and her body bound, as the sensation of rubbing what felt like a device against her young cunny. It felt like he had to pry her apart to get in, but he did finally breach it, spreading her pale white lips and pink inner folds wide. She felt his finger hook as it travelled through her, feeling like he was digging inside her, and part of her wanted to pushback back into it - her tightness suctioning around the plastic lump as his hand recoiled with a voiping wet noise.
"Hey, what's the big ide-" In an instant, he had jolted her brain, a vibration all the way from her loins and throughout her lower half, a rigid shaking buzz from within her most sensitive of areas. She cloistered her thighs, a ghost feeling between them that she wanted to extinguish, but did more to ignite her fire. What started as rain became an almost downpour, slickening her skinny inner thighs.
Then the bus came to its stop, and it's glow opened to them. He nudged her.
"Nooooooo, pleeeeeeeease." Her voice was on needles and pins, every vowel extending as her teeth chattered out the words in a sweat. "Wait-" He nudged her again. Her body quaked as the world looked wobbly, her watering eyes obscuring details. Rubber vertical slices dug into her knees and hands as she raised herself up from the cold cement streets, imprinting mini dents. Over her shoulder, she looked to the bus driver who seemed rather placid, if only just a little annoyed at wanting to keep up his schedule, and before she knew could go crazy, it was off again. She nearly relaxed, but that pressure behind her was like a weapon blast, forcing her into a whimpering cower -- her chest lowered to a point where her tiny pink nipples nearly touched disgusting old shoe muck, only to see it was just the bus door closing.
He crossed a knee as he sat down in the center aisle seat, looking distinguished, his hand barely keeping her leash looped on his fingers. With her mind clear, Rhonda felt like she had a pretty good bead on things. She sat on her hindlegs, arms propped back like a t-rex's, looking like a show dog. "Okay okay, I get the point."
His head didn't turn. "I don't think you do." The masked man then zapped her again. Her pussy discharged sheens of new wetness down the sides of her thighs, overcoating the old juices. She pitifully tried to cover up by mashing them together, the warmth of it disgusting her, but it felt better than being totally exposed. Thoughts of shame quickly faded, as her legs felt like rubber and she just wanted to become the depraved slut he probably thought of her as already. She thought of bending over and presenting herself to him, even as normal everyday people got in and out of the bus, seeing her sheer stark nudity on display -- and as she squirmed in place as his sexual puppet, there was nothing to be proud of, no power in her position that she sometimes convinced herself she had while working the streets, but she didn't care, because-
"Wuh--why'd you stop?" Her shakey voice radiated with her true wants. Like the pig he was, he exposed himself to her, his dick half ready for her attention. 'God... what a selfish dink.' She took hold of him, a firmness growing as she bandied it back and forth. Her eyeline crossed with a depraved pervert with his hand in his pants, which with the dick pressed firmly to her tongue, made her want to not want to use her mouth at all anymore, but...
Rhonda sucked the chrome off his bumper, well practiced indeed as it hit the inside of her cheek, the smelly frosting on his dick like a treat for her, but she was just trying to use all her skills to get this over with, not doing her usual mulling about against her gums. She popped and slurped on it, a droolish glistening as she worked up inch by inch, and soon, he was hitting the back of her throat. "Ulk-ulk-ulk." Her focus turned not from the leash in his hand, but the buzzer, as his thumb wafted above the button. Her eyes grew intense, like she had psychic powers to convince him to hit it for her - but he didn't, as she still kept up her oral tirade.
Despite his stoicism, Rhonda knew every man had his limits. *SHLORP* *SLRP* And she could sense it in him, at the way his body relaxed more and more into the seat. Rhonda began to slow herself down, which caused him to try and meet her throat with humps. Rhonda smiled around the prick, knowing that she finally had some upperhand in their little exchange.
So Rhonda played a little hardball.
She retracted his weiner, and whapped it along the side of her face. "Please oh please, would you kindly turn it back on?" Her googly eyes worthy of an oscar.
His hand with the device clasped shut. "Finish me, and we'll see."
Oh, Rhonda wasn't going to wait. Rhonda used the leverage of her pleasure, to slide up to a higher vantage point in his lap, looking down on him now, Rhonda arched her back as she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him. Her shoulderblades popped out with her legs spreading into a widening V, splaying her hairless pussy on the crotch of the man who had begun to grind against her, his wet hardness bumping against her netherlips. Her elbows skinny to the bone and rubbed red raw, with her svelte and small pale ass lit by fluorescent bus lights -- he palmed them, as he pantomimed fucking her - but first...
By a little metal chain, he retrieved the device with a tug, which was almost as good as being screwed by him, but the feeling was too quick and too small to really satisfy her, like she knew he could. She bucked in place, wanting it, needing it - but he was.
Rhonda brought out the big guns. "Pleeeease, daddy?" Sounding like the ultimate entitled slut who was capable of getting whatever she wanted - she did. Rhonda was suddenly plunged down, and that look of relief on her face strayed into having had an early orgasm territory. Her skinny flat chest began to rise and fall as her thighs were raised and then brought down into thumping skin to skin contact. He fucked Rhonda then and there, going faster. Rhonda flew up and down, and her voice spilled out for all to hear, as she moaned in higher and higher registers. "Ah~, ah~, ah~!" The bus driver and people trying their best not to acknowledge it, even if they were still subtly staring.
Of course even in the throes of it, Rhonda felt ashamed - she was human after all and not some animal - but the blazing cock inside her that ripped through her like hot steel, not even counting it's inches, it was just in then out of her, hitting that baby making part of herself -- it was the exact thing she needed to not care about her actions, as her lashes occasionally fluttering to see if her stomach was deforming from the feel of it.
But Rhonda wanted more. She wanted every cock that ever existed, in every size and configuration and inside every orifice. Her asshole felt lonely, and she couldn't help but wince it, even if it was barely visible, her pink starfish still dime sized even after the trains ran on it. She was then picked up and thrown onto where he had just been sitting, as he trussed up a leg of hers, his hand wrapped entirely around her dainty ankle while his other held her by her tummy, as he began to screw into her hard. Rhonda's fingers strayed across her plush lips as she was jutted forward ever so slightly with ever thrust from him, her head hitting the board of the back rest, but she cared little for her brain matter, only caring for his dick's splatter.
His hand trailed from her hip bone back, down to his side, as he produced the device polly pocket colored egg. Rhonda was too busy enjoying herself to even question what he was about to do, but she got her answer as he ran it along her nub, which got her toes to curl in response, but she wasn't prepared for what was to come.
He clicked it on.
*VRRRRRRRRRRRB* It started with her jaw and chin, and then her neck, as she shook like a drug addict. Her brain turned to mush, as it vibrated in full force, the mix of fullness and attention to her clitty firing off every cylinder, writhing, her voice jumping for joy. "YES! YES! OH MY GOD YES! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" She exclaimed to the heavens, her eyes in the back of her head, unable to stop herself from making unflattering faces which felt so unfair because she imagined him enjoying her body, but she couldn't know the extent of which other than his lower half, and it was clear with his speedier movements, he was going to be done soon.
He came, and he slipped out of the spouting honeypot, but the pleasure didn't stop, as her blush red pussy fired in squirts to the point where she was getting to be super sore like yesterday, but no part of her wanted to stop. She wanted him to keep going.
Forever.
Rhonda sat obediently next to the masked man, hair frazzled, oozing and making a wet spot of her seat, not even feeling the least bit bad for the person who would have to clean it up - or worse - sit on it.
She was led out the door, and she couldn't help but wonder what depravity he had in store for her next - she was aching for it - but he instead unattached the line, leaving her with just a collar around her neck. Rhonda almost protested, but the bus doors closed on her, splitting them apart. She pushed against it, her hard nipples almost able to pierce the glass while looking at his cold stare. The vehicle bumbled before shuttling off. Rhonda bound up a single frustrated fist. Desolate streets sent wind her way, everything shadowed and creepy as it once was the night she was dropped off in that limo. On hands and knees, she went crawling back to the boarding house.
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Rhonda Gets Broke 2: The Dirty Diaries