Moira walked forward and turned and it came as something of a shock to find herself facing a whole group of people.
She had almost forgotten that they were there, but recovered quickly and arched her body into the standing display position, her obedience bringing several nods of approval.
Her Master unlocked her wrists and told her to hold her hands out in front of her body. When she obeyed, he buckled a pair of thick, very tight, six-inch wide black leather cuffs over her steel ones.
Then he clipped the ends of the dangling roof chains to those and bent low to attach long lengths of chain from each of her ankle cuffs to iron rings set in the floor away to her left and right.
It didn’t make much sense to Moira, her legs were already spread wide and if he wanted to spreadeagle her, surely the “X” frame would have been a lot simpler?
He moved to stand directly in front of her and smiled broadly. “All set, slave-girl,” he said cheerfully. “Oh, and by the way, if you drop that whip at any time, it will be used on you.” His grin grew even broader. “Then it will be replaced until the next time you drop it. And the next and...well, I’m sure you understand.”
Moira gaped at him numbly, telling herself that he couldn’t be serious...even though she knew in her heart that he never, ever, made idle threats.
What he promised, he invariably delivered and if he said she would be punished for dropping the whip, then she really would be punished for dropping the whip.
“And not only you, slave,” he went on, “Miles and Anton insist that if you have to be disciplined, then Hazel and Giselle must be as well. So, for all your sakes, it would be better if you kept your pretty mouth firmly shut, wouldn’t it?”
As they heard the unwelcome news, Hazel and Giselle twisted their necks to stare at Moira, their eyes wide with dismay as they learned that their fate depended on her ability to keep quiet, no matter what was done to her.
Their unhappy expressions showed clearly what they thought of her chances, but Moira couldn’t bring herself to blame them, because she shared the same pessimistic opinion herself.
They were all going to feel the whip and there was nothing any of them could do to avoid it.
Moira’s Master gestured with his right hand and the chains clipped to her wrist cuffs began to rattle through the pulleys high above her.
Reacting instinctively, she tried to resist the immediate upwards pull of the shortening chains, but found she was battling against insuperable odds and was unable to prevent her arms being dragged upwards and outwards into a wide “V” over her head.
The chains continued to shorten and she stretched herself to her full height, but it was not enough and she whimpered in anguish and growing fear as she was forced to rise on tip-toe.
To her intense relief, her Master waved his hand a second time and the remorseless pull stopped...but only to permit him to subject her bolt-upright body to a thorough scrutiny.
Satisfied that all was in order, he waved a third time...and the whip fell from Moira’s mouth as she screamed in sheer, blind panic when the pulleys rattled again and the chains lifted her from the floor.
Suspended by the protective cuffs around her wrists, she screamed and pleaded to be let down, kicking and writhing frantically until the slack chains at her ankles tightened and spreadeagled her into immobility.
She fell silent as her Master bent to pick up the whip that had fallen from her lips and shivered as he frowned at her and tapped the whip against his left palm. “You were warned not to drop this, slave,” he told her flatly, “You will be punished for your disobedience.”
Moira gulped and whispered, “B...But I couldn’t h...help it, Master. I was t...terrified.”
“That is no excuse. A slave must obey and you did not. You will be punished.”
The words and the uncompromising tone of his voice left Moira in no doubt that he meant what he said and a wave of submissive arousal coursed through her belly as she realised that while she had been learning the arduous duties of a collared slave-girl, he had been cultivating the power and authority of a truly dominant Master.
Shocked by the stringency of her bondage and her own reaction to being so helplessly displayed, Moira could not control her curiosity about just how far he would go.
Lowering her eyes, she spoke in a small, humble voice, “Please, Master, I am very sorry I disobeyed. I didn’t mean to and I beg your forgiveness. If you were to let me off, just this once, I promise not to disobey again. Please, Master? I’d be ever so grateful and...and I’d do anything you wanted. Anything at all.”
In response, he placed the tip of his whip under her chin and levered upwards, forcing her to lift her head and meet his stern gaze.
“You are my slave-girl, Moira,” he said firmly, his eyes boring into hers. “You belong to me and there is nothing you can offer that I cannot take from you whenever I choose. Slaves do not bargain with their Masters, they simply obey and submit. As you will. Now, be quiet or your punishment will double.”
Moira shuddered and clamped her lips together, commanded to silence by the man she loved but must obey as a slave, craning her head to stare back over her left shoulder as he took position behind her and raised his whip.
To left and right, Miles and Anton copied his actions, the whips in their hands poised above the defenceless rumps of Hazel and Giselle.
The three whips hissed down as one, cracking across naked flesh, sending burning heat into the jiggling buttocks of the slaves, the whips rising and falling again, then again and then one final time as all were punished for Moira’s failings.
Fighting not to scream in pain, her teeth clenched, Moira sobbed in anguish as her Master ordered her to open her mouth and thrust his whip back between her lips.
“Do not disobey me again.”
Moira nodded desperately, the painful lesson learned and tears rolled down her cheeks as he nodded in satisfaction.
“Good. And now, my sweet, you will serve as a full slave,” he told her and turned to his companions. “These slaves,” his gesture encompassed all three of them, “Are bound here for your pleasure, my friends. Use them as you wish.”
To Hazel and Giselle, the offer came as no real surprise, for it was the outcome they had anticipated...but to Moira, it was a devastating blow and she clawed vainly at the chains suspending her body, squealing in horror as she became the hapless victim of Masters and Mistresses who gloried in enforcing the most abject and complete subjugation on any slave...but most especially a slave new to her collar and still only dimly aware of the profound depths of submission she could be forced to give…
Chapter Fourteen
James and Ellie Marston began the final stage of Moira’s journey into irrevocable slavery.
His hands snaked around her waist to fasten on her defenceless breasts and when his wife’s cool fingers slid between the parted lips of her sex, Moira responded helplessly with little breathy gasps and whimpers of unbearable arousal and involuntary jerks and twitches of her belly and breasts.
With her body held open by her bondage, no defence was possible and as her rigid nipples throbbed and her sex grew wet and slick with need, Moira had no option but to surrender and allow the deliciously sensual torment to sweep away the last tattered remnants of her self control.
At the mercy of her own needs and emotions, freed by her submission to be the hot, loving, fiercely responsive slave-girl both she and her Master wanted her to be, she hurtled into a stupendous orgasm as Ellie’s lips nuzzled into the moist heat between her gaping thighs and the blonde’s tongue thrust deep into her sex, sucking and lapping at Moira’s inflamed and exquisitely sensitive tissues.
Huge gouts of scalding love juices exploded into Moira’s belly and her head arched back, the whip falling unheeded to the floor as she screamed her joy and ecstasy and willing surrender as her body convulsed to the immense power of her climax.
A climax instantly strengthened and deepened when Miss Davies picked up the whip an
d…as Ellie rose to her feet, smiling…applied two stinging stripes to the soft flesh of Moira’s spread inner thighs, then reversed the whip and pressed the braided leather handle between the brunette’s labia, sliding it back and forth between the copiously lubricated and pinkly-engorged lips.
Moira shrieked in anguished rapture as a second flood of love juices thundered into her still spasming belly and her eyes bulged in disbelief as she climaxed to the whip’s plundering of her body, her slave heat intensifying as she was forced to confront the reality of her complete subjugation.
Miss Davies grinned cruelly, enjoying the havoc she had created in Moira’s body and well aware of the increasing alarm in the helpless brunette’s eyes as the tumult in her belly grew ever more powerful despite her two tremendous climaxes.
She pulled the glistening, sex-stained whip from between Moira’s thighs and made the thoroughly demoralised slave-girl hold it between her lips, giving her no choice but to taste the salty juices of her own surrenders.
“The whip has had you, slave-girl,” she purred gently, “And now it’s my turn.” Moira whimpered softly, ashamed of her all too obvious need, but unable to resist its power over her.
As the older woman’s lips and tongue sent her reeling towards yet another orgasm, James Marston whispered in Moira’s ear as he fondled her throbbing nipples, “I’m impressed, slave-girl. I just hope you are not too drained to satisfy me, later on.”
His anticipatory chuckle joined forces with the lips and tongue at her belly to trigger a third major climax in Moira and as unstoppable contractions shook her spread-eagled nudity and Miss Davies lapped greedily at the silver outpourings of her submission, Moira realised that she was to be made to satisfy her Masters as well as her Mistresses.
For an instant, she doubted whether she could…but then she remembered that her own Master had told her that she was to serve as a full slave and she understood, then, that the choice would not be hers to make.
As a full slave, she would have to serve any Master who desired her…and woe betide her if she was not completely satisfactory.
Forced to accept the inevitable, a fresh burst of slave heat rippled through her belly and her eyes widened with surprise and delicious fright as she realised what it was telling her about herself.
Her body knew it was enslaved and was preparing itself to please Masters.
Moira recognised then, as her belly melted into liquid heat, that she was finally a full and genuine slave-girl and could never be satisfied with anything less.
Like Hazel and Giselle, she knew she had found her true role…as a willingly subservient slave-girl in the arms and the chains of the one Master who knew her innermost desires and was strong enough to make her his and enforce her absolute obedience to his dominance.
Exactly as she longed for with every fibre of her being…
Paolo de Castillo made a beeline for Giselle and ran his hands over the hollow of her back and the rounded globes of her reddened bottom, smiling wolfishly as the slim French slave-girl shivered to his touch.
“Good evening, slave,” he said pleasantly. “An excellent party, wouldn’t you say? Delicious food, superb wines…and top-class entertainment.”
“Good...Good evening, Sir,” Giselle’s reply was little more than a whisper. “Do you w...wish me to serve you, Sir?”
“Indeed I do, slave-girl,” he chuckled, “I find you quite delightful. Had we met in different circumstance, we might well have been lovers.” He gave a brief bark of laughter. “Perhaps I might even have enslaved you myself. It is quite obviously what you need and enjoy.”
Giselle flushed, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure, then gulped as a familiar voice enquired, “What’s that, Paolo? What does she enjoy?”
“Being a slave-girl, Anton.”
“Oh, that. Well of course she does. She’s a natural. Can’t live without it, can you slave-girl, eh?”
Giselle stared miserably up at the two Masters, knowing that whatever her life might have been if she had met Paolo earlier, she was now just a bondage slave and the property of a ruthless Master.
“No, Master,” she agreed humbly, “I am a slave and beg to serve, Master.”
Anton ignored her, “What do you want to do to her, then?”
“I have not yet savoured the delights of her mouth. This seems a suitable time.”
“Good idea. You’ll enjoy it. Giselle is an expert. A real enthusiast. And while you’re attending to her mouth, my whip and I have an appointment with her bottom.”
Naked and bent over in the pillory, Giselle knew how vulnerable her bottom was and shuddered, knowing her Master would take full advantage.
Paolo grinned and moved to stand in front of the pillory, his crotch an inch from her face. “Begin, slave,” he ordered, “Show me what I missed by not finding you before Anton did.”
Red in the face, but commanded by a Master, Giselle stretched forward, her lips working at the zip of his trousers until her teeth could close on the metal, her struggles acting as a powerful aphrodisiac on both him and her.
She tugged the zip down and when his semi-erect maleness came free, she kissed and licked delicately as his flesh lengthened and thickened.
Anton knew his slave well, Giselle was an expert and an enthusiast, delighting in the ultimately-submissive act of pleasuring a Master in such an intimate way and her belly grew steadily hotter as her busy lips and tongue slid over and along Paolo’s hardening shaft until it jutted rigidly.
With a deep groan, he reached down and seized Giselle’s head, her lips opening into a stretched “O” as his swollen, iron-hard member sank into her receptive mouth, her cheeks bulging to encompass his full length and girth.
Gagged by his flesh, Giselle could not even scream as four cruelly hard whip strokes seared across her unprotected bottom, adding to the submissive slave heat boiling in her belly as she was punished by one Master even as she struggled to please another.
Strong hands gripped her smarting buttocks, opening her still wider and a first climax burst over her as Anton’s erect maleness plunged into her gaping sex.
Penetrated at front and rear, her body responding frenziedly to the demands of two Masters, Giselle writhed and twisted in the strict confines of her bondage, her mouth and tongue sucking and licking desperately as massive contractions shook her belly and her love juices sprayed down into her sex.
Fingers captured her breasts where they hung down beneath her bent body, rolling and squeezing her pointed nipples to send bolts of unendurable arousal storming through her spasming body and forcing a second orgasm from her before her first had even begun to wane.
Pulsing continuously, juddering as huge waves of submissive passion surged through her, Giselle whimpered in fearful ecstasy as her Masters subjugated her to their will, ravaging her mouth and her belly with thrilling power until she was utterly conquered.
Paolo’s spend jetted into her mouth, followed seconds later by Anton’s fountaining release. In response, Giselle swallowed and gulped feverishly as her mercilessly used and taken body vibrated and shuddered as a final, shattering orgasm exploded over her.
Dripping with sweat, her lips and thighs stained with love juices, she slumped as much as her bonds would allow as Anton and Paolo withdrew from her quivering body and smiled down into her anguished face.
“You see, my friend,” Anton chuckled, “That is why she is such a valuable asset to the Hotel.”
Paolo nodded cheerfully, “I see your point, Anton. Much as I would like to own her myself, she’s needed here to serve guests and protect my financial investment. Ah well, no matter. I shall just have to visit regularly, won’t I?”
“Any time, Paolo. I assure you she will be ready to please you. Come, let’s see what other entertainment we can find.” The two dominants strode off.
Leaving Giselle spread and stained and quivering in her bondage for whoever else might wish to avail themselves of her helplessly offered charms.
Miss Da
vies’ companion, Sarah, had not enjoyed the party, conscious that she did not really fit in with either the group of confident, dominant Masters or the trio of obediently submissive slave-girls.
Miss Davies had made it quite clear that she had not yet decided whether to allow Sarah to stay with her. Paolo de Castillo’s comments showed that he and probably everyone, knew that Sarah was just the older woman’s toy-girl…a temporary lover who could easily be replaced when Miss Davies became bored with her.
Unfortunately for Sarah, though, she had nowhere else to go and had been counting on staying with Miss Davies.
Until they had come to stay at the Bondage Hotel and Sarah had foolishly let herself become infatuated by Hazel…and even more foolishly, confided her infatuation to Miss Davies.
Thanks to that one wrong move, Sarah now faced the prospect of losing her comfortable life and blamed Hazel for all of her troubles.
The sight of the redhead being secured in the pillory and the announcement that anyone was free to use her as they wished brought a vengeful smile to Sarah’s lips.
If she was going to be discarded by Miss Davies, then at least she might get the chance to pay Hazel back for the painful spanking the redhead had inflicted on her.
Biding her time, Sarah waited patiently for her opportunity…and when Miss Davies joined James and Ellie Marston to torment Moira, the blonde seized her moment.
Hazel looked up and flushed as she saw the petite figure standing over her, remembering how they had both been made to submit, Hazel to Sarah and Sarah to Miss Davies.
“Thanks to you, I’m in trouble with Miss Davies,” the blonde snapped viciously. “I’m going to make you pay, you redheaded bitch.”
Hazel had no idea what Sarah was talking about, but saw the cruel gleam in her eye and knew she was in big trouble. “But...But why?” she stammered anxiously, “What have I d...done? Wh...Why are you so angry with me?”
“Shut up,” the blonde hissed, “Just keep your mouth shut. I’m the one in charge this time, not you.”
Bondage Hotel Page 23
