Botique Hotel

You are leaned against me, between my legs. Your hands are chained to the head of the antique bed, your ankles to the foot. I am settled in behind, beneath you and am propped against the headboard. You sit, naked between my legs, resting against me. I can feel your breathing. Your belly is full to bursting and you desperately, desperately want me to let you release. I'm ignoring that for now-massaging your belly, playing with your breasts, your nipples, your clit. When you start trembling-a little less frequently now that you've calmed down-I take your mind off it with a bit more clitoral focus. I have a bottle of amyl ready if it gets to be too much, but we haven't gotten there yet. I like the idea of getting you out of your head, like the fact that it turns the struggle in to pure pleasure. I don't like the side-effects.

You can feel me, attentive, pressed between your cheeks. We have yet to consummate this, and I seldom allow us this much contact-it becomes too intense too easily and I want to wait. You can feel my excitement even as I languidly massage you and it makes you, makes us both, happy.

-Sir is interested in my offering?

-This is my favourite filthy thing. I whisper in your left ear. Getting all those dirty thoughts out of you.

-You saw that I'm full of dirty thoughts, sir. You turn and nip my cheek. The water in your burbles. This is hard. They're getting dirtier.

-I want to be inside you.

-That makes the dirty thoughts worse, sir. Please let me go, sir. Let me go and then take me.

-Later, girl. Later. I've got to clean you out first...

- - -

You're mostly empty, mostly clean. I made you drink three bottles of juice before we left London, and three more on the train ride down. I made you use the toilet when we'd checked in (I didn't have to try hard to get you to), cleaned you up on the bidet and produced a beautiful jewelled plug in glass and amber for you. You felt massively embarrassed that I'd expected you to go in front of me, and even more embarrassed that I insisted on cleaning you myself, but it's not like I gave you any choice...and the plug is lovely.

-It doesn't mean we're engaged or anything...

I stood you up, leaned you over the bidet, knelt down behind you and tasted you-your dirty thoughts-for the first time. You were perfectly clean, but still sweet and musty and tasted faintly of cinnamon. When I was certain you were relaxed and wet enough I parted your cheeks and gave you your new plug.

You let out a little gasp as it went in and then you stood and admired yourself in the mirror. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but the strain, the stretch felt lovely. You didn't know this at the time, but I'd spent ages picking it out for you. It took a long time to find the perfect size and colour. I pulled your pants back on and just stood and held you for ages, kissing occasionally. Finally, we disentangled ourselves, I dressed you, brushed your hair back, gave you one more kiss, then took you by the wrist and led you out.

You were walking a little strangely as we passed the reception desk. We stopped and I told you to ask the cute girl on duty about good pubs nearby-more to try to make you blush than for actual want of knowing. She seemed a bit flirty and you surprised me by not blushing, but brazenly winking at her. She flustered and gave you a smile. Finally we went out and, after a short distance, your stride smoothed out.

- I could get used to this. All of this. You lean in to me, put your head on my shoulder and smile.

- So could I. I kissed you, took your hand and patted your arse, making sure to nudge the plug.

- Sir...you whispered with mock reproach.

We took a short promenade around the Georgian architecture in the centre of town. Coming across the pub the girl mentioned, we stopped. You were uncertain when we sat on the sofa by the fire. You protested, both at having to sit and at being made to drink another glass of juice. When you'd finished that, I brought you a large glass of wine. With little food left in you, and your blood sugar low, it went straight to your head. I cradled you back to the hotel with you whispering silly, naughty things in my ear and telling me you loved your plug. You winked even more audaciously at the reception girl, causing her to stare at her feet and blush furiously.

- I want to go back and show her my present!

- I'm not sure how she'd take that.

- She'd like it. We could play with her!

- Not tonight, dear girl. Maybe tomorrow.

Up the stairs, along the long hall and into the room, I remove the plug (you pout) and tell you to kneel on the floor of the bathroom and present yourself. I undress you, spread the plush mat over the limestone floor for you and indicate where I want you. You pout more and kneel. I push you down gently, and secure your wrists behind the bidet with leather straps. I blindfold you. You strain, listening and trying to decide what I am up to. Water running in the designer sink. Clatter of metal on stone. A few wuffing sounds. Then something small and hard parts your cheeks, enters your anus.

- Sir?

The effect is sudden, immediate. You feel warmth gush in to you. It tells your brain you MUST get it out. NOW!!

- Hold that.

Gulp. Yes sir...OUT NOWNOWNOW!!

I take the hardness out, make more small noises and your are being filled again. You feel it again and the warmth, the sensation of wanting it OUT NOW gets worse. You grunt and make a high pitched squeal through your nose.

- You are a dirty little girl. You wanted to debauch that poor, pretty thing on the front desk!

- So? She wanted us to corrupt her! Did you see her blush??!! She wanted to come play! Go get her, tell her to come play! I want to put my plug in her...sir.

I spank you several times. Hard.

- Naughty! That may be so, but you, young lady, are too dirty for your own good. We're going clean you out first. Kancho-Japanese-style. You are going to hold your water and keep tally of the amount I use to fill you. If you're really good, and take your punishment, I might let you go ask her.

- Oh, sir...please please please?

- Assez! You've forgotten something haven't you?

- Sir? The count! Shit! Oh, sorry sir...two.

- No, girl. These are 240 millilitres each. What is the amount in you now?

Fuck, this could get tricky...480 millilitres, sir.

You now understand the sound is me refilling. Then the hardness in your anus again. I pause.

- Good, but this is graded in imperial. Work it out girl...

What? Oh no. Er, um...FUCK! The water is making it difficult to think...

- a pint?...sir? You're just guessing.

- Close, but not quite.

More water. Argh. This is terrible, wrong but so...exciting. You're straining to keep it in, to keep from losing your last shreds of dignity. You've realised, though, that you're doing it for me, for us...doing it because, if you're good, I might let you have a playmate. This makes it less of a struggle and more of a challenge.

- Now how much?

God only knows...how much can you take? You're not sure. This is shameful, your ass in the air...me filling you with water...You blush. Well, it's shameful but it's quite sensual, too...and it doesn't hurt nearly as much as the needles. If you're very good, maybe I'll let you have a playmate AND keep the plug...You smile.

You know that I will. You see it laying on the side of the bath and you suddenly know that I got it just for you.

- I'm sorry sir, I don't know.

- Good girl. I lean over and kiss you. It's always better to admit that than to guess or make something up. I've read your mind as well: We will try to put a bit more than 2 litres in you now, that's a good amount for a complete beginner. Just keep count of how many syringes I use.

- Yes sir. Sir?

- Yes girl?

- Three sir.

- Good girl. You smile and wiggle your ass.

- - -

...seven syringes (and three minor accidents) later I've finally finished. I top you off with an eighth to make up for the spillage. I plug you with an easy inflatable made for the job. You hate it at first, but you don't have any choice. I'm not going to let you near the toilet and you can't hold it without help. On your feet, but wobbly, I lead you in to the bedroom, spread a barrier sheet over the duvet and proceed to chain you down.

- The challenge here, the submission, is simply in being able to endure it. You could force that plug out if you had to, so it's not a guarantee. I kiss you, make you sit up and slide in behind you.

- - -

We've been watching some extreme video-some girl in a corset, hooded, semi-suspended with her breasts bound with leg cuffs. We were both excited by the total helplessness, surrender, and the predicament of not knowing where the cane striking her ripening breasts was going to come from next.

- I want you to do that to me.

- I caned your breasts last week.

- No, no, the whole thing...the corset, the hood, not knowing.

- Ah, yes. I think we can manage that. I suddenly have an evil glint.

You're distracted now and everything has become bearable, pleasant even. There's a constant pressure, but now it feels more like the build up to an orgasm. You're getting odd little shooting pains, but they just seem like spice.

- I think I could do this all night, sir.

I kiss you.

- - -

We sit on the edge of the bath together, you in my lap. The inflatable has just slipped free, kicking off a whole new wave of OUT NOW! You're shaking from the pressure, but I've told you how truly, truly awful it will be if you let it out before you come. I went on to explain exactly what would happen if I think you fake the orgasm in order to be able to let it go. I've laid out several floggers, a dressage stick, a thin cane and a particularly nasty whip to underline my point. I've used the whip on you before-never without lashing you down tightly, though. You'd really rather not have to take it in a place where you couldn't scream and where you couldn't be tightly tied beforehand.

You can feel my cock, solid, pulsing against you. You wonder how I intend to stay out of you in this postion. All you'd have to do is lift your hips. Between OUT NOW pulses, you give me a mischievous look, push your feet down and start to rock forward.

- If you do it, I'll put the inflatable back in and needle the holy fuck out of your tits...

So that's how I'm going to do it. You bite you lower lip, give me a sulky look and sit back down. This is SOOOOOOOOO frustrating...You're getting mad about it...

- Why!! Why can't we fuck? Why won't you take me?? What's so fucking scary about being inside me??? Am I ugly? Are you gay? Do you just not want me? Use me as your toy, but won't let me have you? You're leaning forward, pressing your face in to mine. I'm looking away. I want you!! This has been going on for weeks!!

I slap you hard, snatch a handful of hair and yank you away from me. Lunging, I bite your neck so hard it draws blood. You jump, yelp, writhe and start to beat on my shoulders. Taking your face in both hands I'm kissing you...hard, hungry, mad. Then, all at once I'm inside you...mad, fucking, rutting, humping...driving up in to you...You're screaming and clawing at my back, you forget all about the instructions and let go of the water. I shove you back, lifting you up and down on me and growling. Forcing you back and biting your breasts. You gasp and tear at my hair, slap me, bite my neck. All the while, you drain...we drain...all the mad tension of these past months. You twist sideways, grab the whip and bring it down on my back, shouting.

Again, again. I yowl and catch your wrist on the fourth fall, twist it out of you grip and wrap it around your neck. I'm choking you, lifting you, still inside you. You claw at my hands as you start to go lightheaded. I release you and throw the whip out beyond reach. Lunge at me, and bite my mouth. I bite you back and, for the first time, we taste each other's blood. Water still sprays from you but it's slowing, slowing to a trickle. You raise your hands to hit me again, but the force is stolen, stolen as they fall...you explode. It drenches me, that of me that ain't already drenched with your dirty thoughts. I explode moments later, shooting deep, deep in you. We collapse off the bath on to the floor, wheezing, spent, in some new, uncharted place...in each others' arms.

I open my eyes. Yours are still closed. You look angelic, battered, but angelic.

- I scratched you.

Your left eye opens. You think that's bad...your ear is bleeding. I gather you in my arms and kiss you. We spend the next three months just lying on the heated limestone, kissing...well, it felt that long anyway.

Blinking like you've just walked from complete darkness into bright light, you sit up and look around. The cleaner's going to have fun.

I push up on my right elbow and wrap around you. Looks like somebody's done been birthin' babies here. We should clean up the worst of it...I brought some j-cloths for just such an emergency...

- Do I still have to call you sir?

- Girl, why the hell do you think I've stayed out of you for so damned long! Of course you have to call me sir...but only on Fridays.

It's Friday. You sigh. Yes, sir. I'm going to call you by your name tomorrow.

- And Saturdays...

- But you just sai...

- Yeah, but I don't play fair... you know that...

- Hmmmmph!...SIR!

Wobbling up, you turn, look at me still kneeling beside you, grin and grab my hair with both hands. Burying my face in between your legs you shout Cunnilingus! NOW! You dirty, dirty little girl...you read my mind..

- - -

An hour later, the bathroom no longer looking like the aftermath of a delivery theatre at Kings College Hospital, I finish showering, pull on a robe and wander out in to the bedro...

There's a blue blazer and shirt on the floor, a skirt and thong hanging from the bed canopy...and a familiar-looking girl chained to the bed. Her arms and legs are both secured to the headboard-tighter than I normally would-and in such a way so as to lift her arse is in the air. There's a pillow under her holding her up (you're already getting soft)...and you're naked, sitting on her face and fucking her arse with your jeweled plug...Her bra is still on???

- In and out...

- Mmmmhffffff!

- In and out...

- Grmpmmpffff!!

- Ohhhh! That's good! Yes, right there!

Oh no, I've created a monster.

You notice me, look up and beam. See, I told you she wanted to play! In and out!

- Dpemmmmmmmphffff!

- Please tell me she asked you to do that. That you haven't just kidnapped her from the front desk...

You sit up. I can't see her face, but she can speak.

- Hello, sir! This slavegirl saw your slavegirl and wanted to serve h...rrrph!

- Enough! You shout. Get back to licking! Smiling at me again. She's very good at that...ohhhhhh...Yes! There! Don't stop!

She'd gotten off shift about the same time you finished showering. She'd seen your plug as we went up the stairs (you'd flashed her...naughty, dirty girl). There was always some wag or another in the place in a revealing dress, but these were just overdressed fishwives. Shouty, high maintenance, siliconed Essex teenagers who might pretend to do a bit of girl-on-girl if it kept their third-rate footballer boyfriends happy and kept the Cayenne in the drive. We were something unutterably different. We looked blindingly real, adamantine instead of plastic, like we might hurt her...and like she might enjoy that.

She'd snuck a bottle of champagne out of the cellar, popped it on ice and brought it up as an offering. She wanted to see what would happen. You opened the door, yawning in your dressing gown and she blushed like mad again, thrust the champagne at you and blurted hello. You'd just won the lottery. Another new toy, and just after you and I finally arrived somewhere new. Best. Weekend. Ever.

- Hello. Please come in.

- Oh, yes, hello miss...this is compliments of th..the house.

- Thank you. You step aside and gesture. Please, do come in.

- Oh...shy smile...yes, thank you. I'm off shift now.

She steps in, this is a familiar place. Of course she knows all the rooms well...well enough to know that there aren't normally stainless steel chains attached to the bed. Nice touch, though. You put out the do-not-disturb sign-I must be slipping-close and lock the door behind her.

- Um, I hope you're enjoying your sta...

- Oh shut up and get your clothes off..

- Pardon me???!!

- You came up here because I flashed you the lovely plug sir just gave me. You wanted to see what was going on, and if you could join in . You can. Now either shut up and play or thank you for the champagne and get lost...

You crowd her and she flaps for a moment, then decides and tries to kiss you...

You shove her away. No! Bad! You're going to have to EARN that...

What on earth will I think when I'm done in the shower. It'll be great no matter what it is. You almost stayed in there with me, almost just spent this time rubbing up against me. Lucky, lucky girl you are. I take long showers, but you'd still better work fast...

- Forget the bra, get on the bed...NOW girl!