The Sisterhood Ch. 04

Ariel nodded.

"Thanks"

Damion had laid bills on the table. The waitress scooped them up and made change from her pocket. Damion watched and then motioned for her to keep the change. She smiled, for the first time, and headed back to the bar.

"So what do you think. Do we go on or do we try out this old hotel?"

Ariel picked at the nachos, spooning cheese from the bowl onto the pile.

"I dunno. We can drive by and see what we think. Sounds down right nightmarish. Might be just the mind of place we are looking for."

Damion shook his head.

"You are crazy!"

"Yeah. But what an adrenaline rush."

They laughed as they dove into the nachos.

The streets were dark. The waitress had given them directions of a sort to find the downtown area and the hotel. In this section of town, there were more empty buildings than ones which still held businesses. The streets were empty. They glimpsed people sitting on store fronts. Some were leaning against lamp posts. Several groups stood in the darkness of alleys just off the main street. It was ominous and eerie. The hotel dominated the street. It was an old style hotel, at least 15 stories. Built of brick it stood, looming above the rest of the street. It had a dark foreboding air. A vertical sign reading HOTEL buzzed and blinked over the door. Damion looked at Ariel.

"Well?"

"Let's do it. What do we have to lose?"

"Our lives?"

Se laughed, pushed the door open and stepped out on the street. She reached behind her seat and pulled a backpack. Damion, did the same. They looked up and down the empty dark street as they headed up the cracked concrete steps and through the huge heavy wooden and glass door.

Inside, they emerged into the lobby space. It was filled with worn leather couches and chairs interspersed with dark oak tables. Ornate brass lamps sat on the tables. The carpet bore a well established wear pattern from the door to the front desk, occupied by a bored looking oriental man. To one side a bar was still operating and on the other side of the lobby was a sign indicating that a barbershop was still extant. They walked to the front desk.

"Do you have any vacancies?"

The oriental man looked up in surprise and ten propped a pair of reading glasses on his nose.

"Yeah. By the hour, the week or the month?"

Damion looked at Ariel.

"How about for the night."

The man looked at Ariel and then back to Damion.

"$75.00"

"Do you take credit cards."

"Sure."

Damion nodded and laid the card on the scratched and dented wooden counter. The man produced a check-in form and a pen.

"Fill that out. Check out is at 10am. We don't want no trouble so keep things quiet. Phone calls are $1.00 each. If you want the premium TV channels you will have to put your credit card number in on the TV. No food in the rooms. No smoking. No pets."

Damion listened as he filled out the form. He pushed it across the desk as the clerk slid a key back.

"705."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Have a good time."

Damion and Ariel looked around and started toward the elevator. Damion pushed the button. Above the door an old style indicator moved, the tarnished brass arrow pointing to the equally tarnished numbers. A bell clanged and the antique doors slide open. As they entered the elevator car, a man, disheveled and smelling heavily of cigarettes and whiskey, rushed out of the bar and into the car. Ariel reached over and pushed seven on the panel. The drunk, leaning against the grab rail running around the inside of the car, leered at Ariel.

"Push 12 for me sweetheart."

Ariel reached over and pressed the 12 button.

"Looks like you are gonna have a good night."

The drunk was talking to Damion but looking at Ariel.

"Thanks."

The drunks eyes wandered up and down Ariel.

"Most of the hookers we see around here are sure not as good lookin' as this one."

Damion looked at the man in surprise. Ariel just smiled softly.

The drunk sidled a bit closer to Ariel, looking down at her slightly.

"Maybe when you get your accounts settled with this guy, you come up to 1215 and we can make a deal!"

Damion started to protest, but Ariel shook her head at him.

The drunk saw the motion and scowled.

"What's the matter bitch. I not good enough to do business with?"

Ariel's eyes turned cold and she looked at the drunk squarely.

"I'll do business with anyone who can meet the going rate."

Damion nearly choked. The drunks eyes narrowed.

"What's the going rate."

"A grand an hour, two hour minimum."

The drinks face fell and his eyes widened. He looked over at Damion.

"Are you telling me that this punk can afford that?"

"He has a rich Daddy. Do you?"

The drunk seemed to sag. The bell clanged and the doors slide open. Ariel grabbed Damion's hand and pulled him out of the elevator. As the door shut they heard the drunk muttering.

"Stuck up fucking whore. I could out fuck that little twit all night long."

When the door banged shut, Ariel leaned against the wall and cackled with laughter. Damion was still in shock.

"You should have seen your face. It was priceless."

"What were you gonna do if he agreed to your price?"

"Come on. In this place? That guy? He couldn't come up with 200 much less 2000."

"Yeah, but what if he had?"

Ariel looked thoughtful.

"Maybe I would have taken him up on it. Two grand is a lot of cash for two hours of fucking."

Damion's eyes went wide. Ariel grabbed his hand and they were soon headed through the door of 705.

The room was, at one time, elegant and well appointed. Now the furniture looked old and tired. The chairs were worn and the upholstery stained and frayed. The finish on the wooden pieces had gone dark with age. The TV was anachronistic, a nearly new flat screen mounted to the wall above the dresser. The bed was a steel affair with steel springs beneath the worn and sagging mattress. The one saving grace was that the sheets appeared relatively new and clean. The bathroom was equally as spotless even if the fixtures harkened to a bygone age; a footed tub, pedestal sink and an institutional toilet with a black heavy split seat.

Ariel was looking out the window as Damion pulled the security chain onto the door latch and turned the deadbolt.

"You know, this actually isn't bad."

"It ain't no Hyatt!"

"No, but it used to be a Hilton."

Ariel pointed to the small brass crest inlet into the window frame, proudly proclaiming that this was a Hilton Hotel.

"They would have a stroke if they knew that was still in this hotel"

Damion tossed the bags onto the bed.

"What's the plan?"

Ariel leaned against the window sill.

"How long will that camera record?"

"If I connect the external drive, for hours. Why?"

"Set it up."

"Are you gonna let me in on the idea here?"

Ariel stepped over and took the second small bag she had carried to the room. Unzipping it she dumped the contents on the bed. Damion watched as rope, handcuffs, gags, a flogger and all manner of BDSM toys spilled onto the bedspread.

"You are going to do your worst . . . and best . . . to me tonight."

Damion's face split into a wide knowing grin.

The camera sat on the tripod on top of the wardrobe. The height gave it a unique perspective of the hotel room. It was oriented toward the bed where Ariel now lay naked on her back. Her arms were stretched wide and tied securely to the outside posts of the heavy steel headboard. She was gagged with a large blue ball gag. Drool was already starting to seep from the corners of her mouth where the straps pulled her lips and cheeks into a grotesque stretched grimace. Her ankles were secured with wide leather manacles. The rings on the manacles were tied to ropes which were tied to the top of the outside posts of the headboard and pulled upward. She lay, helpless. splayed open. Her ass and pussy easily accessible. The red record light on the camera blinked incessantly.

Damion had the contents of the bag arrayed on the dresser. He was looking at the things Ariel had packed, charting his course of action. He had met Ariel months ago at a friends house. It was a party of sorts and Ariel had been playing the acoustic guitar and singing. He had listened and watched. As the hours passed, the liquor and drugs began to become more plentiful. His friend had introduced them. They had ended up sitting on the floor in a back bedroom, smoking a joint and simply getting high together. The buzz had induced them to start talking and, between giggles and refilling the pipe, the topics had ranged from music to dope to sex. He had asked if she was seeing anyone regularly. Her response was surprising even in his mellowed out state. She had told him no. She had sent her last lover away after he refused to participate with her in exploring some new games. Damion asked what kind of games and Ariel had leaned in close to him and whispered that she really was into the whole BDSM scene. Damion had taken the pipe from her, pulled a long drag from it and after letting it escape from his lungs, had told her that he was going to a BDSM party the next week and asked if she wanted to come along. That had been all it took. By the end of the month he had moved into her apartment.

She wasn't really a submissive. That wasn't her thing. Her thing was pain. The more intense, the better he quickly discovered. Just a few months ago she had told him about the sisterhood and the book. He quickly agreed to participate. Here they were now, on this road trip. He picked up the leather strap then put it down. It was loud. When that wide leather strap hit flesh it created a sharp crack. He needed something quieter. The flogger was the obvious choice. He picked it up, hefted it and swung it experimentally. As he turned, he could see her eyes focused on him. When she saw the flogger, her eyes closed and he heard the faintest of groans as she anticipated what was about to ensue.

As he stepped to the side of the bed, he took the red handkerchief from the small table beside the bed and put it in the palm of her hand. Her fingers curled around it tightly. He knew that only way she would let it go would be if she went unconscious. He had tried in the past to force her to the point that she dropped the handkerchief. She never had.

Her eyes were still closed as he lifted the flogger and begin to swing it softly, just hard enough to straighten the falls. He let them strike her thighs and ass cheeks. She shifted slightly and another groan passed around the gag. Each stroke he delivered was incrementally harder than the last. He stretched the sensations over time. It was almost 40 minutes later before a stroke caused her to squeal slightly. The backs of her legs and her ass where a warm rich red. With that first yelp of pain, she jerked a bit. He continued, slowly increasing the speed and intensity of the flogging. By the time the hour mark passed she was now wailing behind the gag with each stroke. He had stripped to his boxer shorts in the rapidly climbing temperature in the room. A sheen of sweat now covered them both. He worked the flogger continually. She writhed and pulled at the ropes and leather securing her. Welts began to appear across the backs of her thighs and her ass cheeks. He stepped up the intensity and the speed of the strokes. She was now breathing hard. Spit bubbled around the gag, running down her cheeks and her chin. Her chest heaved causing her breasts to move obscenely. Each stroke brought forth aa muted scream around the gag, as her skin, now sensitized, sent shocks of pain through her body.

He looked down at her and checked her hand. The handkerchief was still firmly in her grasp. Her pussy now literally wept moisture. He judged that she was ready. Drawing the flogger back he swing it hard and let the falls land squarely on her exposed and helpless cunt. Her eyes flew open and she pulled against the bindings. A wail began and grew ever louder asl she arched her back and tilted her head back. Before she could recover, Damion landed a second stroke to the same place. Unable to scream because she could not get air into her lungs, she could only jerk and shudder. Reversing the flogger in his hand, Damion leaned over and jammed the handle of the flogger deep into her cunt and watched. She began to convulse. She jerked, shimmied, bounced and shuddered into wave after wave of orgasms. He let her ride the waves, content to watch as she slowly began to subside until, minutes later, she lay moaning. Her legs and arms hung limply from the bindings. Her eyes closed, her breathing fast and ragged. Still the handkerchief was clutched tight in her hand.

When her breathing was somewhat more normal, Damion stepped from the boxer shorts and crawled onto the bed. His cock was throbbing, twitching, standing forth with a gleam of pre-cum on the head. He moved behind her and then slowly ran the head of his cock around her cunt where the flogger was still impaled deeply. He guided the head of his cock to the dark puckered ring of her asshole. Positioning it, he leaned up and with a slow deliberate motion, pushed his cock against the taut ring of muscle, spreading and stretching it. She groaned and then gasped as his cock slipped past the resisting ring of muscle and slid deep into her anal opening. Without pausing he began to fuck her. He moved with long slow strokes, reveling in the feeling of her ass as it clung to his cock, clenching occasionally as he bumped the handle of the flogger in her cunt. She was lost somewhere in a pain and pleasure induced fog. He managed the pace, intent on drawing out the sensations as long as possible. It was many minutes before he ground hard against her and deposited a large thick mass of creamy cum into her ass. Pulling away, he sat back on the bed, leaving her there bound and still helpless.

He came back from the bathroom to find her eyes open and focused. He moved to the head of the bed. Her eyes followed him. She still held the handkerchief tightly. He reached behind her head and unbuckled the ball gag, pulling if from her mouth. She worked her jaw to ease the stiffness.

"I got to pee."

"I suppose you want me to let you go."

"Yes please, or we will get to sleep in a piss soaked bed."

He quickly released her from the ropes and she slipped stiffly from the bed and headed to the bathroom. When she returned, the toys were all back in the bag and he was laying on the bed waiting.

"You gonna put that piece of video on what you give to your girl friends."

"Probably not. They would all faint."

He chuckled.

"Now what?"

'I dunno. . . We could go to bed. Its late. Or I could call our friend upstairs and see if he can come up with an even thou if I offer him a discount."

Damion looked at her, eyes narrow.

"Are you serious?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe. I've never hooked. Either I do that or we find an ATM in the morning and get some cash."

Damion grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bed.

"We will find an ATM."

She giggled. The lamp on the bedside table went out. In the dark Damion held her.

"And tomorrow?"

"On down the road. There have to be some more interesting places and this is just the first day."

A week later, the Sisterhood was assembled at the wine bar. Everyone except Ariel. She swooshed in, fifteen minutes late, smiling and her usual breezy self. Taking her seat, she poured herself a glass of wine and took a long drink. Everyone was watching her expectantly.

Rachel spoke first.

"Well?"

April reached into her bag and pulled a handful of thumb drives and dropped them on the table. She and Damion had spent the night before editting the raw video into 90 minutes of vignettes of their 6 day road trip. She leaned back as Mags plugged the drive into the tablet and everyone else crowded around to watch. 30 minutes later Mags shut it down and looked at the rest of the group.

"Is that a go?"

April was visibly flushed as she nodded and exclaimed.

"I should say so!"

Everyone agreed and they began to question Ariel about the trip. It continued for almost 2 hours. Mags finally spoke up.

"Girls. I have to go. I have to catch a flight in the morning. Ellen I think you are up!

The tablet lay on the table. Ellen turned it toward herself and pressed the go button. The screen flashed and a number appeared.

394

April handed Ellen the book. She opened and flipped through the pages and then began to read.

"394

"Time to show your talents. We aren't talking about karaoke here. Ladies, grab your man and take him to the fanciest strip club in town. Make a reservation. Make sure your guy gets the full treatment, then, for a grand finale, show up yourself, strip as far as local conditions will allow and give your guy the time of his life. Guys. Do the same for your girl. You get extra points if you earn more than a $100 dollars in tips from the other club patrons during your show."

Everyone was silent except for Ariel who tittered lightly. Ellen's face was frozen. She looked up and around the table at the others. Everyone could see by her face that she was having a hard time dealing with this one. Mags broke the silence.

"You going to accept the challenge?"

Ellen looked around the group. She tried to judge how the others would vote if she asked for a pass. Ariel she was sure would vote no. Rachel would probably go with her as would April. That left Mags . She wasn't sure about Mags. For some reason she believed that Mags would vote no also. That was a thin margin. She was still thinking when to her surprise Rachel leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Go for it! You do it!"

Ellen looked at Rachel in surprise. She swallowed hard suddenly sure that she had no choice.

"I'll try."