Bondage Hotel

by Charles Graham

  Hazel trembled as Sarah glared at her, but she had been ordered not to speak and dared not disobey as the smaller girl walked behind her and out of her vision.

  Seconds later a huge leather gag was forced against her lips and when Sarah snapped, “Open wide, bitch. This should shut you up,” the thick cylinder filled Hazel’s mouth and reduced her to frightened silence.

  Sarah yanked the gag strap tight and chuckled as Hazel winced. “I’ll teach you not to spank me and get me in trouble,” she said harshly, “Miss Davies may send me away, but not before I’ve given you the damn good whipping you deserve.”

  Hazel tried to scream as she learned what was to happen to her, but the gag muffled her cries and the pillory easily resisted her frantic efforts to escape as the blonde moved behind her and picked up the whip discarded by Miles some time earlier.

  The first stinging blow burned across Hazel’s tautly presented buttocks, then another, and another, and another, until the captive redhead squealed and sobbed and begged into her gag, her bottom a blistering inferno of reddened heat as Sarah whipped her unmercifully.

  Across the room, Miles Hetherington’s attention was attracted by the crack of leather on flesh and he frowned angrily as he saw the severity of Hazel’s punishment.

  Hurrying across, he seized Sarah’s wrist in mid-swing, halting the intended blow. “That’s enough,” he snapped commandingly, “Put the whip down.”

  Sarah turned on him angrily. “She deserves it. The bitch spanked me.”

  “Yes, I know that,” Miles replied calmly, “But I still will not allow you to damage one of my slaves.”

  Sarah was furious and her tongue ran away with her. “Hah. Typical,” she sneered sarcastically. “It’s all right for her. She won’t be sent away with nowhere to go, will she? She won’t be out on the street with no money and no job and no home. What about me? What am I supposed to do when Miss Davies throws me out? Tell me that, then, if you’re so damn clever.”

  Miles stared down at the indignant blond. “Why not stay here?” he said evenly.

  Sarah’s jaw dropped, “Wh...What?”

  “Stay here. In the Hotel. Become a member of the staff.”

  Sarah gaped at him, her eyes wide with shock. “What? You mean...You mean as a slave?” she yelped and Miles gave a slow smile.

  “That depends,” he replied. “What other skills do you have to offer? Are you a chef? An accountant? An expert in wine, perhaps?”

  Sarah’s eyes slid away from his steady gaze. “No, of course not,” she replied sullenly.

  “Then it appears that you may only be qualified for one job in the Hotel, doesn’t it?” His eyes inspected her, assessing her body beneath the blue dress.

  Sarah’s face reddened as he looked at her, but before she could say anything, a voice spoke from behind her.

  “Take your dress off, Sarah dear. You can’t expect a prospective employer to give you a job if he doesn’t know what you have to offer.”

  Sarah whirled around to find Miss Davies smiling at her.

  “Go on dear,” the woman urged. “You might as well, because I’m afraid you’re going to need the job. You see, I’ve decided to let you go.”

  Sarah gulped miserably, her hopes in ruins. “Please, Miss Davies…” she began, but the woman was adamant.

  “No, Sarah,” she said firmly, “I’m sorry, but my mind is made up. Now, be a good girl and do as Miles asks.”

  Her eyes brimming with tears, the blonde turned back to Miles. “If...If I do agree to stay, what...what would I have to do?”

  “Oh, I think you already know,” he replied calmly and his hand waved at the three slave-girls in their bondage.

  “Can I…Can I th…think about it for a while,” Sarah quavered and Miles nodded.

  “Of course,” he agreed, “But Miss Davies is quite correct. I do need to be sure that you meet the Hotel’s high standards before I take you on.”

  Sarah shivered, understanding what he meant and her hands went slowly to the hem of her dress and peeled it off over her head.

  Underneath, in accordance with Miss Davies’ permanent instructions, she was entirely naked and her white teeth bit into her lower lip as she revealed her pale body.

  Miles subjected her to a long, slow scrutiny and she blushed in shame as his eyes devoured every inch of her softly curvaceous form.

  At last, he nodded. “Quite lovely,” he said gently, “You appear to have all the qualifications the Hotel requires,” he paused for a moment, “Except, perhaps, one. Tell me, do you become aroused when you are placed in bondage?”

  Sarah stared at him, stunned by the question and its obvious implications, but before she could gather her wits, Miss Davies spoke up.

  “Yes, she does. I have used handcuffs on her many times and she always becomes extremely hot and responsive when she’s helpless.”

  “Excellent,” Miles chuckled, “Then she is perfect for the Hotel.”

  Appalled by Miss Davies’ betrayal, Sarah moaned but could not deny the truth of the statement.

  She was always aroused by being tied up and as her eyes strayed to the three ruthlessly bound slave-girls, she couldn’t stop the instant heat that moistened her sex as she imagined herself chained alongside them, her body spread wide and defenceless.

  Thankfully, Miles did not seem to notice her instinctive reaction and smiled at her. “Well, Sarah,” he said, “If you want the job, it’s yours. Have a think about it for a while.”

  He took her arm and led her over to the far wall. “To help you make your mind up,” he told her casually, “We’ll try these on you.” Sarah shivered as she saw a pair of leather cuffs dangling from a ring set into the brickwork.

  Her mind raced as he lifted her arms, but somehow her thoughts of protesting against what he was doing never quite reached her lips and after the cuffs snapped closed on her wrists, it was too late.

  “I’ll be back for your decision in an hour or so,” he told her and she watched numbly as he simply walked away, leaving her naked and with her wrists bound to the ring above her head.

  Tentatively at first, then with her full strength, she tugged at her bonds but made no impression on the strong leather and as she learned that she was going to stay where she had been put until someone released her, she tried to decide what to do.

  She had lost one job, but had the offer of another…if she dared to accept it.

  The idea of becoming a slave in the Bondage Hotel was frightening, but a lot less frightening than finding herself back on the street, alone and poor and homeless.

  Miss Davies had taken her away from that and Sarah definitely did not want to go back to it.

  Slowly, she looked down at her nude body and felt a warm tingle of arousal between her thighs as she remembered Miles’ pleasure when she had stripped naked before him.

  It had been obvious that he had wanted her and she knew that if she agreed to stay on at the Hotel as a slave-girl, he would be free to have her as often as he liked.

  With her in bondage.

  Not that she didn’t like sex with men, or even that she didn’t enjoy light bondage.

  Before becoming a companion to Miss Davies, she had had several affairs with men and had even experimented quite happily with allowing herself to be tied up.

  It was just that she was acutely aware that the bondage imposed on slaves at the Hotel was far more severe than anything she had ever experienced and she wasn’t sure she could endure it for long periods of time.

  On the other hand, she mused to herself, at least she would be fed and housed and there was always the chance that a guest, a rich one, might fall for her…

  A moment’s sober reflection would inevitably have brought Sarah to the obvious conclusion that any guest booking into the Hotel would, by definition, be a bondage enthusiast and hardly likely to treat her as anything other than the bondage slave she would be.

  But then, Sarah wasn’t thinking very straight.

  Depressed at t
he loss of Miss Davies’ patronage, worried about how to make her way in the outside world, thrown off balance by Miles’ completely unexpected offer of a job as a slave-girl and hopelessly distracted by suddenly being in his bondage, it was unsurprising that she was not thinking too clearly.

  Unsurprising, but perhaps unfortunate, because Sarah made the fatal mistake of confusing fantasy with reality, managing to convince herself that although Hazel and Giselle were treated as full slaves and subjected to ruthless discipline, somehow it would be different for her.

  After all, she told herself, their slavery did have its compensations.

  Miles was very handsome and even Anton, tough and demanding as he sometimes was, was all man and knew exactly how to please a slave-girl.

  As companion to Miss Davies, Sarah had not had a man for almost a whole year and failed to recognise that her long abstinence was helping to give her a falsely rose-tinted picture of what her slavery would be like.

  Without even realising it, Sarah had already accepted Miles’ offer and the Bondage Hotel now had three slave-girls on the staff……………….

  “Well?” Miss Davies demanded as Miles walked up to her. “What do you think?”

  Miles nodded, “Yes. She’ll definitely accept. I’ve told her I’ll be back in an hour, but it won’t take her that long to make her mind up.”

  “Good. I’m glad for her. Discipline is what she needs and I’m quite sure you’ll give it to her.”

  “You can rest assured on that score, Madam,” Miles’ eyes glittered with amusement, “I intend to give her to Hazel for her initial training and after the way she just whipped Hazel’s bottom, I suspect that young Sarah will not be sitting down in any degree of comfort for quite some time.”

  Miss Davies chuckled richly, “What a delightful idea, Miles. Sarah will hate it, of course.”

  “Mm, I’m sure she will,” Miles agreed, grinning. “But she won’t have a choice, will she?” The two dominants laughed together as they dismissed Sarah’s future problems from their minds.

  David Lawrence watched intently as his wife and slave-girl was mercilessly aroused and forced to submit to Ellie Marston and Miss Davies, his eyes never leaving her face as her suspended, utterly defenceless body pulsed and shuddered to the power of the climaxes which the two Mistresses extracted from her.

  He was waiting for the moment he knew must come…the moment when Moira ceased to resist the storm of passion unleashed in her body and surrendered to her own submissive desires.

  He was patient…and finally, his patience was rewarded.

  The tell-tale widening of Moira’s eyes as she felt renewed slave heat ignite in her belly was the signal he had been watching for and his tense body relaxed as he saw the last fragile barrier standing between him and his ultimate goal, crumble and fall.

  His lips curved in a triumphant smile and his erection bulged in anticipation as he savoured the sweet taste of victory.

  Moira’s long journey into slavery was over and it only remained for him to confirm his absolute Mastery over her.

  He strode forward and her soft brown eyes filled with love and serene acceptance as he took the whip from between her lips, then lifted her chin in his hand and gazed down at her pretty face. “You feel the heat of a true slave in your belly.”

  It was not a question and they both knew it.

  “Yes, Master,” she replied humbly, “I feel it and I know what it means.”

  “You know I shall never free you.”

  “I know you won’t, Master.”

  “No regrets? No last appeals for mercy?”

  Moira smiled tremulously. “Would they make any difference, Master?”

  He shook his head firmly and Moira shivered, “Then I can only be the slave-girl you wish me to be, Master.”

  “You had better be,” he told her flatly, “I would hate to be disappointed.”

  Moira’s eyes gleamed. “So would I, Master,” she said giggling infectiously.

  “Then I shall do my very best to avoid disappointment for either of us,” he agreed. “Starting right now.” His right hand slipped between her damp thighs.

  Moira squealed, her arousal instant and intense. “Please, Master,” she begged, “Take me, Master, please. I need you so much. Please, Master. Your slave begs for you, Master.”

  “Very well, slave. As you beg so prettily, I shall do as you ask.”

  He reached up to her wrists and unclipped the chains, supporting her body against his broad chest as he lowered her to the floor, the warmth of her naked breasts and belly delightfully sensual.

  “Anton,” he called, “Tighten her ankle chains, please.” Moira gulped nervously as the slack was taken up and her legs remained widely spread.

  “Arms behind your back, slave,” he ordered and her anxiety deepened as her wrists were clipped together again.

  Chain rattled as it descended from the ceiling above her and while it was being clipped to her cuffs, she licked her dry lips, guessing what was going to happen.

  She knew there was no point in trying to resist and as the chain shortened, Moira bent forward until her body was in much the same position as Hazel and Giselle, but with her arms raised high behind her.

  She never saw the blindfold and gave a soft whimper as her world went black, her arousal zooming as she was deprived of her ability to anticipate what might be coming next.

  Strong fingers pried her jaws apart and when she felt a large steel ring inserted behind her teeth and buckled into position, she gasped in horror, knowing that such a device could have only one purpose…and Moira had seen Paolo being pleasured by Giselle.

  Beneath her gag and blindfold, Moira’s face burned with embarrassment.

  David was going to make her do the same to him and the realisation that she was going to have to carry out such an intensely submissive act in front of all of the dominants in the dungeon was as appallingly erotic as it was shamefully humiliating.

  She shook her head from side to side, but the steel ring was immovable and she trembled wildly, knowing that, yet again, she was going to have to submit to whatever her husband and Master demanded of her.

  No matter how awful it might prove to be.

  Or how exciting….

  Forced to wait in darkness for her Master to plunder her body in whatever manner he chose, Moira tested her bondage, not trying to escape, but simply delighting in the thrilling tightness of steel and leather against her limbs and face.

  Molten arousal surged through her belly as a whip cracked across her tautened buttocks, to brand two heated stripes into her flesh as her Master chuckled, “You dropped the whip again, didn’t you, slave? You really must learn to obey.”

  Moira’s squeal of anguish was cut short as a long, thick shaft of flesh slid through the steel ring holding her jaws apart and into her soft mouth, filling it completely.

  For several moments, she panicked, heaving madly at her bound limbs, but then natural instinct took over and her nostrils flared to suck in great gulps of air.

  She didn’t know what to do, had never even kissed a man’s erection, let alone taken one into her mouth, but as a whip snapped at her buttocks, she began to suck awkwardly at the rigid shaft, hoping that she was doing the right thing.

  Hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her forward until her lips met coarse, wiry hair and her cheeks bulged, but she was powerless to resist and felt her sex grow slick with the juices of her own arousal as she visualised how her sexual subjugation must look to the watching audience of dominants.

  Shamefully excited by the vivid image, she sucked unskilfully but with considerable enthusiasm at her Master’s hardened flesh, wondering what he must be thinking as he looked down at her.

  Was he as astonished by the change in her as she was?

  Just two short weeks ago, he had married a shy, rather inexperienced girl, but now that same girl stood before him as a naked sex-slave, collared and in bondage, pleasuring him in the most intimate way possible in
front of a group of virtual strangers.

  And enjoying it.

  It was incredible but true and Moira’s belly quivered with blistering slave heat.

  With not an instant’s warning, catching her totally unprepared, a second massive erection thrust irresistibly into her oozing sex and penetrated deep into her belly.

  The shock of it was immense and Moira froze in terror, paralysed into immobility by the realisation that two Masters intended to have her at the same time.

  No, not intended to have her…were having her………

  As the stunning fact crashed into her reeling brain, she tried to scream a protest and resist, but her frantic struggles could not free her and her screams were lost in the fleshy gag between her jaws.

  Her shame and despair were complete as a whip scored her weaving flanks with lines of stinging fire and she was forced to resume her pleasuring of the Master ravaging her lips…but now she could no longer be sure that it was her own Master who was enjoying her so shamefully.

  It might be him or it might not be and the same awful uncertainty applied to the Master whose maleness filled her belly.

  She didn’t know and might never know, for she was a slave.

  She belonged, really belonged, to her Master and if he saw fit to offer the use of her body to others, she had no alternative but to submit to his will.

  For a true slave, there could be no other way…and Moira knew she was a true slave.

  Shattering sexual arousal raged through her pinioned body as Moira confronted the stark reality of her enforced subjugation and her orgasm erupted like a volcano, spewing love juices like molten lava into her belly and sex as the Master behind her lunged to the very core of her femininity.

  Taken as a fully subservient slave, Moira responded as one.

  Heedless of the consequences, her brain filled with the joy and passion of a submission which was both willingly and rapturously accepted, Moira’s lips squeezed and the internal muscles of her sex contracted in her efforts to suck the invading shafts of both of her Masters deeper into her body as her belly convulsed and juddered in her first orgasm.