Bondage Hotel

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by Charles Graham




  Bondage Hotel

  by Charles Graham

  A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

  Copyright © 2008, All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission from the publisher.

  For information contact:

  Pink Flamingo Publications

  www.pinkflamingo.com

  P.O. Box 632 Richland, MI 49083

  USA

  Cover Image © Powershotz

  www.powershotz.com

  Email Comments: [email protected]

  Chapter One

  “Would you care to order now, Sir?”

  Miles Hetherington looked up from his newspaper as the soft Scottish lilt broke into his thoughts and found himself gazing at a mass of reddish gold hair framing a pretty heart-shaped face containing two wide, innocent green eyes, a neat, pert nose and a pair of full pink lips that just seemed to cry out to be crushed under a strong man’s kiss.

  He knew at once that he had not seen the girl before...he would most definitely have remembered her...and wondered who she was and where she had been hiding herself.

  “Sir? May I take your order, please?” the girl smiled attractively and Miles felt a stirring in his groin as he thought that there were several orders he would like to make her take.

  “Yes, of course, my dear,” and he listed the dishes he wanted for dinner.

  As the girl wrote them down in her little book, Miles let his eyes roam discreetly over her body in its crisp black and white waitress outfit, his mind automatically estimating her height and weight and clothing size...a size 12 he thought, but carrying a couple of pounds of excess weight.

  Nothing that a little strenuous exercise couldn’t work off.

  “I haven’t seen you before tonight, have I?”

  “No, Sir. It was my day off yesterday.”

  “Ah, that explains it. So you are...?”

  “Hazel, Sir. Hazel McIndoe. And you’re Mr. Hetherington. From London.”

  “Quite right, Hazel,” Miles smiled lazily. “You’re very well informed.”

  The girl giggled. “Mr. MacAllister, the owner of the hotel, says I should always know guests’ names. He thinks you get bigger tips that way.”

  Miles nodded, “He’s quite right. I tell my staff the same thing.”

  “Do you own a hotel then, Sir?”

  “I run one, just outside London.”

  The girl sighed wistfully, the corners of her lips turning down. “I wish I was in London. I like the job here fine, but there’s nothing to do after work. No fun, if you see what I mean.”

  “Well, maybe you should resign and come South,” Miles suggested, his brain working busily. “After all, it’s not that far. You’d only be a few hours away from your family and friends.”

  “Oh, it’s not that,” Hazel frowned. “I’ve got no-one to stay here for. It’s just that I have a steady job here and I don’t know how easy it would be to find another one down there.”

  Miles saw his chance and baited his line. “Well,” he said casually, as if he attached absolutely no importance to the subject. “I have a lot of friends in the catering business and I’m sure one of them would be in the market for a well trained waitress. If you’re interested, take my card. The number’s on it,” and he held up the rectangular slip of pasteboard.

  Hazel was clearly thrilled, her green eyes alight with gratitude. “Are you sure? Thanks ever so much. Can I think it over and let you know?”

  Miles grinned at her, knowing the satisfaction of a fisherman who feels the first nibble at his line and knows his fish is almost hooked. “Of course. Take your time. I’m here for two weeks.”

  Hazel thanked him again and hurried away to fetch his dinner.

  Miles watched her go, his eyes taking in her slender, well-shaped legs, trim buttocks and neat waist and chuckled silently to himself.

  Yes, he thought, she would do very well indeed for what he had in mind...

  Hazel McIndoe spent the first seventeen years of her life caring for her father, a dour, deeply religious man, widowed shortly after Hazel was born.

  Living on a croft, a small hill farm, in the remote highlands of Scotland, Hazel had few chances to meet people of her own age and it was hardly surprising that when her father died, leaving her little more than the clothes she wore, she decided to leave and take a job as a waitress in the small hotel owned by Mr. MacAllister, a very distant second cousin of her father.

  It wasn’t a bad job and MacAllister treated her well, but Hazel never felt that she was anything more than an employee to him and put down no roots to hold her in the whole four and a half years she spent there.

  Her encounters with the young men in the area were no more successful and after a few short-lived and highly unsatisfactory affairs which invariably left her totally unsatisfied and frustrated, Hazel decided that sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and resolutely refused to allow any of them to work off their carnal desires with her.

  Naturally enough, this did not make her very popular with the young men and the supply of dates dried up, leaving her even more isolated.

  Every week, sometimes every day, she considered leaving, but she had little money and no other relatives or friends, so her options were extremely limited and she began to think that she would never manage to get a real life.

  But then, out of the blue, she waited on Miles Hetherington’s table and a whole new future began to open up for her.

  The second day she served him dinner, they talked about London and his hotel.

  The third day, he invited her for an after dinner drink and on the fourth day, she accepted.

  On the fifth day, she told him all about herself and warmed even more to him as he held her hand and commiserated with her about her unsatisfactory situation.

  On the sixth day, she let him take her for a drive into the hills and made no protest as he held her in his arms and kissed her.

  The kiss was a revelation to Hazel and left her breathless and weak at the knees. She had never been kissed like that before and her whole body tingled with the excitement of it.

  Miles was a mature, sophisticated man of thirty one, vastly more experienced than either Hazel or the fumbling boys of her only sexual experiences to that date and when she lay in her bed that night, she tossed and turned as previously unknown urges made themselves felt in her sleepless body.

  Like any woman, Hazel recognised them for what they were and her fingers stole down to her groin, rubbing and stroking at the moist channel of her sex until she had to bury her face in the pillow to prevent herself from moaning aloud as her climax burst upon her.

  Hazel was almost twenty two and it was by no means the first time she had pleasured herself with her fingers...but it was the first time that she had fantasised about any particular man.

  Miles Hetherington.

  Panting in her release, she wondered whether he felt the same about her or whether he simply felt sorry for her and was just being kind.

  True, he had kissed her, and very thoroughly, but did that mean he wanted more?

  And if he did, should she let him?

  Her strict upbringing said no...but the pleasant heat in her belly said yes and Hazel had been lonely for a very long time.

  The following night as she served him dinner, she checked to make sure that none of the other diners could overhear, then whispered nervously, “Miles, tomorrow is my day off and...and I was wondering if...if you would like to take me out somewhere again. We could make a...a whole day of it, if you wanted to.” Her cheeks flushed pinkly.

  Miles’ face gave no inkling of the triumph he felt as Hazel spoke, but, inside, he was jubilant, certain that her faltering invitation was sim
ply the prelude to his conquest of her slim body.

  And that, if he had read her character correctly, was only the beginning of his plans for her...

  Plans which, had Hazel even for a second been able to imagine, would have sent her fleeing in horror as far away from him as she could get.

  Unfortunately for the pretty redhead, though, her very limited sexual experience of men had in no way prepared her to match wits with anyone like Miles and his very particular requirements in women...

  “Certainly, Hazel. That would be delightful. Say, ten o’clock, then? Excellent. We’ll go up to the loch, shall we?” Miles was careful to hide his elation as Hazel nodded, but as she walked away, his lips curved into a cruel smile of anticipation.

  His slow, careful planning and patience were about to pay off and soon, very soon, the unsuspecting redhead would find herself becoming one of the star attractions of his new and very lucrative business venture.

  The next day went exactly as Miles had planned that it should and as he and Hazel lay on the blanket he had thoughtfully provided, sipping the last drops of the second of the three bottles of champagne he had brought, he squinted up at the hot sun overhead and casually slipped off his shirt, pretending not to notice Hazel’s covert glances at his muscular torso.

  After a few minutes, he remarked, “Hot, isn’t it?” and waited...

  Hazel flushed prettily, not really knowing how to react and a little light headed from the wine, but then, pretending a nonchalance she definitely didn’t feel, fumbled with the buttons of her white blouse and laid it to one side.

  Slowly, so as not to alarm his prey, Miles reached for her and cradled her against his chest, her initial stiffness soon passing as he kissed her, very softly, on her cheek and then, as she gained in confidence, on her yielding lips.

  Hazel was aware of what his kisses were leading to and was a little scared, but the touch of his lips was exciting and she could feel her body reacting just as it did when she stroked between her own legs and wanted the delicious sensations to continue.

  Soon, his hands were at her breasts, his fingers toying with her nipples and the pleasure was so much more intense than she had ever felt with her inexperienced boyfriends, that she voluntarily reached behind her back to unhook her bra, freeing her trembling flesh to fall into his grasp.

  His lips descended and Hazel gasped, unable to believe the almost unbearable longing which filled her body as his warm, wet mouth brought her sensitive nipples to quivering erection, sending jolts of electrifying arousal through her breasts and down into the surging heat in her belly.

  He laid her down on her back and she watched, mesmerised, as he undid her belt and slid her skirt down her legs and off, then repeated the action with her skimpy panties.

  Then he paused and said quietly, “Are you sure, Hazel? If you’re frightened, I’ll stop.”

  Hazel gulped, then nodded and whispered, “Oh, yes. Yes. I w...want you, Miles.”

  “And I want you,” he replied and his hands moved in slow, thrilling circles over her belly, inching lower with every circle as his lips returned to her breasts.

  Hazel squeezed her eyes tightly shut as he caressed her, but as his fingers slid through the silky curls of her auburn pubic hair, her eyes snapped open and she whimpered, “No. No, I mustn’t. I...I... shouldn’t.” Her hands gripped his wrists as if to stop him touching her.

  “But you want me, Hazel,” he told her and she gave a soft moan, knowing it was true.

  “I do.” she groaned, “But...I’m scared, Miles. I’ve...I’ve never f…felt like this before. So…aroused…and…and…excited, that it fr…frightens me a bit.” Her green eyes filled with anxiety, then slid away from his and she gave a little shiver. “I’ll try, Miles, really I will, but please don’t be cross with me if I have to st...stop you.”

  “I tell you what,” he replied cheerfully, “How about I make it so that you don’t have the choice to stop me?”

  Hazel frowned, “How could you do that?”

  In answer, Miles reached over and picked up the belt from her skirt. “With this,” he said calmly. “I could use this to tie your wrists. Loosely, of course, but then you’d be tied up and not able to choose any more.”

  Hazel’s eyes opened wide. “You...You’d really t...tie me up,” she quavered.

  “If you think it would help.”

  “Well...” she hesitated. “I suppose it...might.”

  “Shall I do it then?”

  “I...don’t know, Miles,” she replied doubtfully. “It might work, but...isn’t it a bit...?” and her voice trailed off.

  “We’ll try it,” he announced decisively and before Hazel could decide whether to agree or not, the thin leather belt was wrapped several times around her wrists and buckled in place.

  The moment the belt gripped her skin, Hazel began to shiver and felt a ripple of delicious fright run up her spine and as Miles pulled the buckle tight, she gasped to a wave of thrilling arousal as she found herself tied up and unable to use her hands.

  Even better, she no longer felt any pangs of guilt.

  How could she, she wasn’t in control any more and it wasn’t her fault.

  After all, she hadn’t even actually agreed to be tied up, had she?

  “This is wonderful, Miles,” she smiled, flexing her fingers to satisfy herself that she really couldn’t get loose. “I don’t feel guilty at all. It’s just like you said. How ever did you think of it?”

  He smiled back at her, “I don’t know, really, but I’m happy it worked,” and he took her bound wrists in his right hand and gently pulled them back above her head so that she lay flat on her back.

  “And now,” he chuckled, “To work.”

  Hazel looked up, to where her wrists lay trapped, then down, past her naked breasts and belly, to the auburn triangle marking the entrance to her sex.

  Her pink tongue flickered, wetting her suddenly dry lips as she realised her vulnerability to Miles’ lips and fingers, but any concern she felt was only momentary as the same realisation set her belly bubbling with fierce heat.

  Looking down at her, Miles found no difficulty in reading the emotions that chased across her face and revealed her thoughts and his own smile grew broader as he saw that he had not misjudged her nature.

  It was good to know that he had not wasted his time and he set about making Hazel’s sexual experience one to remember, confident in the knowledge that, sooner rather than later, the redhead would repay him a thousand times over.

  His lips returned to her breasts, nibbling and sucking at her engorged nipples and the fingers of his left hand burrowed between her thighs to stroke the velvet softness of her labia and rub the exquisitely sensitive button of her clitoris.

  Totally unused to such devastating stimulation, Hazel squealed and writhed, her bound wrists fighting vainly to tear free from his iron grip as her torso, from neck to crotch, turned inexorably into a blistering inferno of undreamed-of sexual heat, her legs flailing from side to side as she tried, and failed, to expel his hand from between her thighs.

  It wasn’t that she had changed her mind or even wanted his hand to leave her. It wasn’t a conscious decision at all, simply an instinctive response to arousal so intense as to be unbearable.

  Her struggles had quite the opposite effect to that intended, when, to her horror, she felt Miles’ legs clamp over her own, pinning her limbs but leaving his hand free to continue creating ruinous havoc between her thighs.

  Unable to stand the delicious torment a moment longer, Hazel squealed, “No. Please, no more. Stop it, Miles, please, please, I beg you. I can’t stand it. I can’t, I just can’t.”

  His fingers slowed...but didn’t stop...and he lifted his lips from her breasts to stare laughingly into her staring eyes as she whimpered, “Oh, thank you, thank you, Miles. I couldn’t take any more.”

  He chuckled softly, “It’s a good thing we’re way out in the wilds, Hazel. You’re really noisy. I can see I’m going to have t
o gag you when you come back down to London with me, or I’ll be getting complaints from the neighbours.”

  Hazel froze. “G...G...Gag me?” she stuttered. “Wh...What do you m...mean?”

  “You know,” he said cheerfully, “Gag you. Keep you quiet. Shut you up. Stop you screaming.” He grinned broadly.

  Hazel gaped at him, her arousal burning even hotter as she imagined not even being able to scream while his hands and lips explored her.

  “You...w...w...wouldn’t,” she protested feebly, then, trembling with excitement. “W...would you?”

  He shrugged, “What do you think, Hazel?” Her belly gave a great shudder as she thought about it.

  “I think you w...would,” she said at last, “If you w...wanted to.”

  He nodded slowly, “Mm, I think so, too. Lots of nosy neighbours in London and we wouldn’t want them hearing you, now would we?”

  At his second mention of London, Hazel picked up the inference, “London? Do you mean you want me to go to London with you?”

  “I thought that was where you wanted to go?”

  “Well, so it is, yes, but I didn’t know...I mean...You mean, you...and me?”

  “Why not? You can stay with me. At least until you get settled.”

  “Oh, Miles. It’s my dream. Yes, yes please, I’d love to go with you.”

  “Good. That’s settled, then.” His fingers resumed their work on Hazel’s body, building her passion steadily higher until she hovered on the brink of an orgasm, her body vibrating under his hand.

  “You seem to enjoy being tied up,” he said slyly and as he thrust two fingers deep into her body to trigger her climax, added, “Maybe I’ll keep you this way all the time.”

  Hazel’s body juddered wildly as she came and she squealed, “Yes. Oh Miles, yes,” as love juices thundered into her belly…..but whether her words were a reply to him or a welcome to her orgasm, it was impossible to say.

  As he watched her spasming and pulsing, Miles congratulated himself on his good luck.

  Hazel had not only shown herself to be a natural submissive by the way she had accepted being tied and dominated by him, but she was also incredibly responsive.

 

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