Hazel found this dilemma extremely erotic, for if her mind didn’t concentrate on her jogging, his crop flicked at her buttocks, while if it did, her body was free to react to his caresses.
With her brain fully occupied, there was nothing to inhibit her automatic responses and she always became intensely aroused in a very short time...but while the track continued to revolve, she had no choice but to keep on running.
It was a delightful predicament that invariably ended the same way; with Hazel panting and sweating, her nipples erect and her sex slick with the juices of her arousal.
At which point, her Master would switch off the machine and, without releasing her wrists, step onto the track behind her, bend her forward and bury his rigid shaft in her belly as his hands captured her breasts.
Her climaxes as he took her were always powerful and hugely satisfying. She had to admit to herself that her bondage and helplessness and enforced obedience were major factors in her pleasure.
Being made to submit to a strong Master grew more exciting every time and though Hazel still had anxious misgivings about her role in his Bondage Hotel, she found herself becoming more and more fascinated by the idea of having to serve in any way his guests desired...
“Get on the track, slave,” her Master’s order brought her out of her pleasant daydream and she moved to the device and stepped on.
Without being told, she placed her wrists on the rail at each side and allowed him to clip her cuffs to the waiting rings, her belly smouldering as she was secured for her exercise.
“Your levels of fitness and stamina have improved noticeably, slave,” he told her. “That’s good, because you will need them. Many of my guests enjoy a run in the country and will be most unhappy if you can’t keep up. So, today, we’ll test to see just how fit you have become.”
Hazel glanced worriedly across at him as he pressed the button and the track beneath her feet began to move, the sardonic grin on his face sending a shiver of apprehension down her spine.
For several minutes, she walked forward easily, then the machine began to increase its speed and slowly, inexorably, Hazel was forced to match the building pace.
She lengthened her stride then broke into a slow jog, but all too soon this was no longer enough and she had to move up a gear into a brisk trot, her breasts bouncing to the quickened tempo.
Still the speed of the machine rose and she began to pant for breath, her slim legs pumping furiously as she began to run in earnest.
Almost sprinting, with her nostrils flaring and mouth open to suck in great gulps of air, Hazel ran as she had never run before, her feet pounding the track, eyes rolling wildly in her head and her chest heaving as she struggled to keep up with the remorseless machine.
Her legs felt like lead, every muscle burning and she began to weave from side to side as her rhythm faltered.
With a crack like a pistol shot, her Master’s crop descended on her straining buttocks, blazing a stripe of fierce heat into her flesh and Hazel squealed in pain and shock, hurling herself forward in desperate efforts to regain speed.
Each time she faltered, the crop stung her into renewed exertions and she screamed breathlessly, sweat sheening her racing body and dripping from her nose and chin as its cruel bite forced her onward despite her near exhaustion and the burning torment of her protesting muscles.
Eventually, with Hazel’s body near complete collapse, even the smarting lash of his crop brought only a momentary response from her and he slowed the track to a halt.
She fell to her knees, head hanging low and shoulders heaving with great racking gasps as she sucked air into her starved lungs and her legs quivering uncontrollably as over stretched muscles relaxed.
Her Master gazed down at her sweat-drenched body and crop reddened buttocks and chuckled softly, “Very good, slave. An excellent performance. I make that three miles, almost twice as far as I expected. Given a somewhat slower pace and an occasional rest, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to at least double that distance. I’m sure you are going to be very popular for outdoor activities with my more...country minded guests.”
Hazel raised her weary head to stare up at him, but was simply too tired to care what he meant.
She would find out sooner or later and knowing what trials lay ahead for her wouldn’t make them any easier to bear when the time arrived.
Whatever it was, she would have to do it, so there was little point in worrying unnecessarily.
After allowing her to recuperate for several minutes, her Master ordered her to her feet and unclipped her cuffs from the guard-rails. “Go over to the wall bars, slave,” he told her, “And stand with your back to them.”
As she obeyed, he picked up a bundle of leather straps and walked over to her.
“Arms and legs spread,” he ordered casually and as Hazel spreadeagled herself against the wooden bars, added, “As that was such a hard session for you, I’ll do all the work for a while, so you can just relax.”
Hazel thought that was most unlikely, but wisely kept her mouth shut and while he looped the straps around her outstretched ankles and bound her firmly in place, felt the familiar heat warm her belly.
The heat grew stronger as her wrists were strapped to the bars and she flexed her muscles surreptitiously, checking to see how securely she was fixed.
“Keep still,” her Master snapped, “I’m not finished yet.” Hazel froze as he took the four remaining straps and lashed her knees and elbows so that she was quite unable to move anything except her neck and head.
He strode out of the gymnasium and Hazel grimaced, frustrated that he had not taken advantage of her helpless nudity to arouse her and give her the climax she had worked so hard for and felt she deserved after all her effort.
It no longer bothered her...at least, not very much...that her craving to be made to surrender to his bondage and Mastery amply confirmed the success of his training of her and her own submissive desires.
With a slave collar on her throat, kept naked and chained and with her body in a state of almost permanent semi-arousal, Hazel’s brain had finally given up the unequal struggle against her enslavement and learned to accept her captivity and subjugation as the inevitable consequences of her previously unsuspected inclination towards being dominated.
An inclination her Master had seen and encouraged towards his ultimate goal.
Her capitulation to total slavery.
Hazel looked up hopefully as he walked into the room and the glowing embers of arousal in her belly ignited into a hot flame as she saw that he carried a black leather hood in his hand.
She had seen several of them in dungeon room, but had never worn one and licked her lips nervously as he approached her.
“May I speak, Master?” she asked humbly and when he nodded, added, “That h...hood, Master, I...I’ve never w...worn one before.”
“Then it’s time you did, slave,” he retorted unsympathetically. “Open your mouth.”
Commanded by her Master, Hazel had no choice but to obey and stretched her jaws wide as he prepared to fit the helmet over her head.
She only had time to see that the hood was softly padded and had a built in gag before heavy leather pressed against her face and her world went black.
The thick, hard cylinder of the gag worked its way between her teeth and she spluttered as it wedged her jaws apart and pinned her tongue to the floor of her mouth.
Two reinforced holes beneath her nose provided her air and her eyes were blinded by shaped pads excluding every chink of light.
His hands tugged at the rear of the hood, moulding the leather to her face and she heard the sound of a zip as it closed from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck, sealing her into darkness and silence, the padded leather cutting out almost all sound.
The wide, reinforced hem of the hood tightened to a snug fit around her throat and her last, tiny fraction of freedom vanished as her Master secured it to the bars behind her, clamping her head rigidly
.
Utterly helpless in her stringent bondage, Hazel trembled to the fires burning in her belly as she visualised how she must appear to him and how easily he could make her submit to him, if he chose.
Made blind, deaf and dumb by the hood she wore, it was impossible for her to anticipate his next move and her flesh tingled as she waited for his touch and the shattering arousal it must bring.
Long seconds dragged by and turned into endless minutes and still Hazel waited, her nipples hardening and belly flesh fluttering to the delicious uncertainty of not knowing when or where his fingers and lips would strike.
The only certainty was that they would.
Hazel juddered and her hands clawed vainly at nothing as her Master teased her rigid nipples, flicking first one, then the other, with his extended finger, repeating the action over and over until her coffee coloured buds jiggled and twitched continuously and her muffled squeals of unbearable need filtered past the gag filling her mouth.
Her whole body felt as if it was on fire and the broad leather straps pinioning her limbs creaked softly as she wrenched and tugged in her frenzy.
Creaked but loosened not at all and held her spreadeagled and completely defenceless... exactly as her Master had intended when he bound her.
The simply devastating sensation of his mouth nuzzling at the exquisitely soft and sensitive flesh of her held open labia was far too much for Hazel and her passions burst from her in a cascade of heated love juices as she climaxed to his lips’ arrogant invasion of her most intimate and vulnerable recesses.
Her high pitched nasal whimpers as she came told of the ecstasy raging through her captive body. They also hinted at her horrified understanding that her enforced, immediate and unconditional submission need not be...and probably would not be...the conclusion of her Master’s exploitation of her nude charms.
His hands and tongue had not yet explored her and Hazel knew that when...and if...they took their turn to pillage her wet, slickly lubricated sex, she would submit just as instantly, just as powerfully and just as helplessly as she already had to his lips.
No sooner had the inevitability of her total subjugation burned its way into her whirling brain, than his teeth tugged playfully at the gold rings adorning her labia and she was again plunged into an inferno of lust and sexual submission. Blistering arousal blended with tiny flashes of shamefully thrilling pain to send her spiralling out of control.
Her second orgasm crashed into her belly before her first had even begun to wane and Hazel screamed in disbelief and rapturous despair as her belly exploded in huge, racking spasms to send her love juices flooding into her sex and trickling slowly in long, silver snakes down the insides of her flexing thighs.
Determined to impose his absolute and irreversible domination over her, her Master sent his fingers sliding into the soaked channel of her sex and his thumb to the prominent, fleshy button of her engorged clitoris, extracting still more crazed responses from her shuddering, pulsing body as he built her towards and then into, a third stupendous orgasm.
Lost in a timeless limbo of overwhelming arousal, unbearable lust, enforced submission and complete physical and mental subjugation, Hazel was dimly aware that she was becoming more and more enmeshed in the web of bondage, enslavement and domination spun by her Master. With every frantic response of her body and every climax he forced upon her, the sticky strands of his web tightened their grip on her, wrapping her into a cocoon of slavery from which she would never be able to escape.
Deep in the depths of her numbed brain, Hazel saw the feeble glimmer of warning, but as her third climax engulfed her, the last spark of her resistance flickered and died.
At that instant, the old Hazel McIndoe, once a free and independent woman, ceased to exist.
In her place, climaxing with the intense and irrevocable passion of true slave-heat, stood Hazel.
A humble slave in the home of her Master.
Blissfully unaware of the momentous and permanent change which had transformed her whole future life, Hazel felt only a soaring joy as her mind and body relinquished all control over her responses and abandoned themselves...and her...to the sensual ecstasy of full and willing submission to her fate.
In the feverishly bubbling cauldron that was Hazel’s belly, a towering wave of orgasmic fury rose to undreamed-of heights as her Master sent his tongue spearing into the pulsing, wetly oozing channel of her sex, bringing muffled shrieks of delirious rapture from her as he probed and sucked and lapped at the very essence of her femininity to drive her out of control to the brink of her fourth orgasm.
Teetering on the edge of the abyss, Hazel screamed a wordless plea of heart-rending need, begging to be made to submit as the willing slave of a true and utterly dominant Master.
His hands raced to her throbbing breasts, rolling and squeezing her quivering nipples while his tongue drove deeper into her body to trigger her release.
Hazel rose onto the tips of her toes, her entire body locked rigid and straining against her leather bonds as her climax loomed menacingly over her.
Then it broke, plunging down like an avalanche to bury her in a pounding, thundering welter of passion, submission and incandescent heat and Hazel screamed in joyous welcome and anguished surrender as her body convulsed in gigantic paroxysms, spraying rivers of scalding love juices, like molten lava, into her belly and sex.
Spasm after spasm shook her helpless body, each stronger than the one before and Hazel squealed in dismay, horrified by the sheer, awesome power of her submission and her total inability to control the ever greater tumult raging unchecked through her shuddering frame.
Her Master’s hands and lips drew back from her, but the maddened pulsing of her belly and breasts continued unabated as her orgasm rolled remorselessly onward.
Sucked down and down into the spinning vortex of her own blazing need, Hazel plumbed the uncharted depths of her submissive nature, at first horrified by what she found there, but then, as she faced and began to accept the truth of what she had never suspected about herself, oddly comforted by the realisation of just why she so delighted in submitting to the absolute authority of her Master.
With crystal clarity and immense relief, she finally understood that her desire to submit as his slave was not a weakness or a failing on her part, but simply the perfect complement of his equally strong desire to dominate her.
Without her subjugation, he could not be her Master and without his Mastery, she could not be his slave.
Together, the two halves of the circle were complete and Hazel felt a great weight lift from her shoulders as all guilt and shame left her, never to return.
Trembling to the flaring pleasure of what she then knew to be the orgasm of a full and willing slave, Hazel savoured the thrilling tightness of her bondage, the pungent scent of leather moulded to her face, the cool dampness of sweat and love juices on her nude flesh and the uncompromising weight of her steel slave collar at her throat.
How long she stood there climaxing, she never knew, but at last, her body calmed from its passion and she waited patiently to see what would happen next, almost, but not quite, able to relish the delay as further evidence of her enslavement.
Bound by her Master, she must simply wait until he chose to release her, no matter how long that might be and no matter how much she might wish it otherwise.
As a slave, she would never be given a choice and as her belly glowed with comforting warmth to that fact, Hazel chuckled silently into her hood, knowing that it was exactly what she wanted and needed.
Some time later, she shivered in immediate arousal and mild disappointment as hands passed her padlock through the rings in her labia and snapped the lock shut, signalling the end of her hopes to be taken by her Master.
The zip of her hood slid up and she screwed her eyes shut against the glare of light as the sweat blackened leather peeled from her face.
Her Master smiled at her as she opened her eyes and she flushed as she met his gaze, knowing
that she had submitted completely to him.
“I am very pleased with you,” he said calmly. “You responded well and if I am not mistaken, as a truly submissive slave.”
Hazel could hardly deny it, not with her belly and thighs still bearing the glistening evidence of her surrenders. “Yes, Master,” she replied quietly, “I did and I now understand that you were right about me. I am a sub...a submissive slave and I accept it, Master.”
“That is as it should be, slave. Now, I wish to gag you again, so open your mouth.”
The second gag, a simple hard rubber ball on a thin strap, fitted snugly between her teeth and though not as uncomfortable or as efficient as the cylinder built into the hood, still prevented speech.
Less happily for Hazel, it also made her drool and she couldn’t stop saliva from gathering on its surface and trickling down her chin as he buckled the strap.
Her Master either didn’t notice or, far more likely, didn’t care, so she just had to put up with its messy side effects and try to ignore it as best she could.
“I shall leave you here for a while, now,” he told her, “I have to go and collect my partner and his slave. When we return, I will introduce you to Anton and the lovely Giselle. The two of you will serve us before we leave you to get better acquainted.”
Hazel’s green eyes bulged with shock and growing horror as he spoke and she shook her head wildly as she heard that she was to meet two strangers, one a Master, the other a slave, while helplessly bound and gagged, with her body spreadeagled and stained from her climaxes.
More terrifying still, she and the other unknown slave were to be forced to serve the two Masters and Hazel had no doubt what that would involve.
Her Master strode away, ignoring the horror in her eyes and her shrill squeals of protest and her belly gave a quivering lurch as the door banged shut behind him.
Two weeks before, he had mentioned in passing that a second slave would join her in the hotel, but Hazel had never imagined he really meant it...but he had.
Bondage Hotel Page 6