An Unusual Hotel….

An Unusual Hotel…..

As she drove out of the city, Sarah Dalton was angry. She’d just spent much of the afternoon arguing with men in caravans, and she still had a long drive home. She’d had to come out to the site herself, to see why the construction was so far behind schedule, and she’d gotten good and mad at the Site Engineer and the Works Foreman.

They’d initially been patronising towards her – but she was used to that. As a 29-year-old woman, with a pretty face, a good figure and a penchant for business suits with short skirts, most men in the construction industry failed to take her seriously. At least to begin with. She’d learned quickly how to make them pay attention. A burst of bad language usually did the trick, and this afternoon had been no exception.
She’d reminded the Engineer and the Foreman that she was not their boss, she was their motherfucking boss’s boss, and that all of them, including their boss, were sons of bitches who would be looking for new employment very soon if they didn’t get the damned project back on schedule pretty quickly, and back within budget too.

She was, on the whole, enjoying her new position though. As a young girl she’d always been practical, building things with Lego rather than playing with dolls as her younger sister did. Her parents had worried she was going to grow up a bit of a tom-boy, but their fears had lessened in her teens when she flourished into an attractive young woman. Her father had hoped that she would follow him into the family business, and become a partner at Dalton and Dalton, the law firm that had been started by her great-grand father in London fifty years earlier. However, she had other ideas. After four years at Cambridge University, she’d graduated with a master’s degree in Architectural Engineering, and had become a Project Manager for Last Resort International, a major global building firm. Based in London, England, she followed projects from the design stage, through the building process, right up to the last fix. She was the one who signed off the company’s involvement and figuratively, and even sometimes literally, ‘handed over the keys’ to the buildings owner.

She’d applied for the transfer to the American section of the company as a challenge, and also for the much higher rates of pay. She’d been in the US for three months now, and was starting to settle in.

Although Sarah had been quite sure of getting the job on merit alone, she’d ensured that she received the very highest personal recommendation from the CEO of the UK end of the operation. She’d worn the shortest skirt she dared to the formal interview, and she’d crossed and uncrossed her legs more than a few times. She was high enough within the company to have met the CEO a few times socially already; they’d flirted a little at a few company gatherings in the past, when the champagne cocktails had been flowing.
He’d virtually salivated over her at the interview, and hadn’t offered any resistance when she stepped around behind his desk, and had knelt and performed oral sex on him. She’d done a good job on it. As in everything else that she did she was thorough, and made sure she did it right. She’d run her tongue up and down his shaft, popping her mouth briefly over the top of it, fitting the head into her mouth, then releasing it. She’d licked and slurped loudly at it, while he’d moaned and groaned out loud with the pleasure. She’d spent some time darting her tongue around the spot just below the head, where the skin joins on, as she knew that was a particularly sensitive pleasure spot, until finally she’d angled his cock forward and had slid her mouth all the way down the shaft, then noisily slurped up and down it until he moaned out loud, and had shot his load into the back of her mouth.

She’d got up, wiped her mouth and had returned to her seat in front of the desk, picking up her hand-bag in order to leave the office, the interview completed. She’d theatrically looked into the open bag with surprise, and had pulled out a Dictaphone and said, in a mock dumb-girl voice “Oh my! It seems that I’d left this running, it’s probably recorded the sounds of everything we’ve just done!” he’d stared at her ashen-faced as she’d gone on “Well, it won’t matter will it? If I get that job and I’m off to America I’ll be a long way away from everyone – especially your wife, won’t I?” she’d looked him directly in the eye as she’d spoken that last piece, and he’d made sure that she got the transfer.

But for now she was cross. It was a four hour drive from here across the hot desert back to her rented apartment, and the sun was already low in the summer sky as she headed out of the city. The sun was shining directly into her eyes, so she pulled her Wayfarers from the glove box and put them on, then switched the radio on, turning the volume right up. She’d left her new Mercedes-Benz at home, and driven out here for the site visit in one of the construction company’s mud-spattered vehicles, and it certainly wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable, or as fast, driving this flat-bed Ford.

As she neared a corner she saw a young man standing there, waiting to cross. She slowed down to take a look, and admired his neat, trim behind. ‘Nice ass’ she thought to herself, and drove on.

She reached the open road, and got herself into the fast lane, trying to get as much speed out of the old Ford as she could. The air-conditioning was playing up, so she wound down the window until she could feel the cool wind in her hair.
It was still hot even though it was nearly sundown, and she raced along the dark desert highway. There was no traffic at all; in fact the only other vehicle in sight was a truck heading towards her, although it appeared to be several miles distant. Far off she could see a spectacular electrical storm rage, long streaks of lightning flickering towards the earth. She watched the spectacular show for a few moments, then fumbled in her handbag on the seat alongside her, and pulled out a cigarette. She stuck it in her mouth, and then rummaged in the bag for a lighter. She couldn’t find one, and this made her angrier. She kept one hand on the wheel as she bent over to the passenger seat, peering into her bag in an attempt to find the lighter.

She fumbled for a few moments until suddenly, above the sound of the radio, she heard a loud horn blaring, and the car filled with light. As she shot upright she found she was staring at the front of the truck heading towards her, only a few yards away!

Several thoughts raced through her mind simultaneously – she realised that as it had gotten darker she’d forgotten to put her headlights on, and that, in the absence of other traffic to remind her, she was driving on the wrong side of the road again, a force of habit after learning to drive in the UK. The cigarette fell from her lips as she wrenched frantically at the wheel, to turn the pick-up out of the path of the oncoming truck. Tyres screamed as she closed her eyes and braced herself for the crushing impact she thought would surely come, and she imagined she felt that impact judder through her, and a flash of light as the car exploded, but she opened her eyes to find that she had somehow missed the truck, and was skidding across the road. She braked to a halt, and with trembling hands picked another cigarette out of the pack, finally located the lighter and inhaled deeply, sitting and smoking for several minutes as she realised how close to death she’d just been.

She threw the butt out of the open window and, making sure that the lights were on, and she was on the right side of the road, she drove on, a little slower this time. The Ford became progressively harder to steer, and she realised that one of the tyres was probably running flat, possibly because of the sharp braking and swerving a few minutes earlier.

She cursed as she struggled to use her phone, she’d call someone to get them to come out and help her change the wheel as she didn’t fancy trying to jack this big flat-bed pick-up thing up by herself. She drove slower now, and swore as she saw that there was no signal.

A mile or so further on, she saw a flickering light just off the road, and as she neared it she saw a large building set back from the road. She couldn’t remember seeing it on the way out here this morning, but it was the only building within sight so she turned off the highway, and into the driveway of the building. The sun was beginning to finally set now, and it had dropped behind the building, outlining its domed towers and the tall palm trees that grew on either side of the drive. Her architects’ eye regarded the building. ‘Art Deco,’ she thought to herself ‘very avant-garde too. Impressive. Wonder why I didn’t see it earlier?’

She parked at the front of the building, next to a black Mercedes-Benz sports car, not unlike her own, and saw a large awning sticking out over the front entrance, sheltering a broad length of deep red carpet. She got out to look at the front of the big Ford and saw that one of the tyres was indeed flat, if she’d carried on much longer she’d have been driving on the rim. Wherever she was, this was where she was staying for the night.

She picked her hand-bag from the passenger seat and, not bothering to lock the Ford, walked towards the entrance of the building. As she walked along the red carpet and up the two steps to the buildings entrance she was puzzled by the lack of any sign identifying it. There was only a discreet brass plaque to one side of the entrance, bearing the letters ‘thc’. She pondered briefly on the significance of the letters. Were they aware what thc was, she thought?

Tetrahydrocannabinol – she’d smoked enough of it during her time at Cambridge, most of the students puffed on the odd joint now and again, and she’d certainly been no exception. As they were all posh kids, none of them had been so crass as to call their drug of choice ‘pot’ or ‘dope’ or ‘grass’ they’d always called it ‘t-h-c’ as that had seemed much more intellectual, much more refined.
She allowed herself a smile at the memory – there’d been quite a lot of ‘thc’ smoked during her four years at uni, and with a few pretty boyfriends too – she hadn’t exactly been a shrinking violet in that respect either.

Sarah was a little surprised when she entered the building to discover what appeared to be a relatively normal room in the style of an upmarket hotel reception. She crossed over to the desk and hesitantly coughed to attract the attention of the somewhat stern-faced woman behind it. The woman turned, welcomed her to ‘The Hotel’ and politely enquired what could she do to help.

Sarah explained about her flat tyre, and that she still could not get a signal on her phone. She said she really needed somewhere to stop for the night, or failing that, could she use their phone to call someone.

The receptionist politely explained that everyone was suffering the same loss of mobile phone signals, and that the landlines were out too, possibly because of the severe electrical storm that had passed nearby earlier. She told Sarah that she could stay for the night; there were plenty of rooms – she could even give her a discount as a last-minute guest, although there was a small problem.

“We have a special themed weekend commencing this evening” she explained to Sarah “And some of our guests may be doing some things publicly that are somewhat….. unusual, and orientated towards….fetishes. Are you open-minded, Miss Dalton?”

Sarah told her that she was, as she briefly remembered some pretty wild times at uni.

Sarah gratefully handed over her credit card, the receptionist swiped it, and then returned it to her. The receptionist summoned a concierge who guided her to her room.

The corridors were fitted with sumptuous carpeting, and the wood-panelled walls were adorned with classy artworks and expensive light fittings. With her experience of the building industry, and her knowledge of interior furnishings, she knew that this place simply reeked money – everything was absolutely top class, as grand as it could possibly be, yet done in a tasteful style. Wherever she was, this was one hell of an hotel.

As she had no luggage, and no change of clothes, Sarah simply washed her face in order to freshen up a little, then re-applied a little make-up and went back downstairs in search of a little food and drink, before returning to the room for some much-needed sleep, she thought. Sarah noticed the mirrored ceiling above the bed, and ruefully thought what a pity it was that she’d be sleeping alone in it later.

The hotel didn’t seem to be crowded, in fact the ground floor appeared to be deserted, but she could hear happy noises coming from the central courtyard, so she headed in that direction. As she walked, she passed a door leading into a room, with a man standing behind a counter. A bar! A very opulent one, too – as she looked around, she noted the panelled walls, the oak furniture and luxurious carpeting. Very expensive she knew, and very classy as well. She walked in and approached the counter.

“Good evening” the bartender greeted her.

“Uhhh, may I get a drink, please?” she enquired “And make it a strong one, I’ve had a bad day. What’s your house speciality?” she continued.

The barman smiled “One of these” he replied, placing a large glass goblet on the counter in front of himself. He flipped a bottle of Jose Cuervo and poured a large shot into the glass. With his other hand he added a long measure of orange juice, then theatrically spun a bottle of Grenadine in the air, swooshed a shot into the glass, waited until it sank to the bottom, then spun a spoon through the drink once, so the red grenadine coiled up through the glass.
Sarah thanked him, picked up the glass and walked back out, towards the courtyard, and the source of laughter she’d heard a few moments ago.

Sarah walked to the double doors that led out to the courtyard, and as she stood in the doorway her eyes took in the large swimming pool directly in front of her, and the many large sun loungers surrounding it, some occupied, some empty, and her gaze travelled to the large patio area at the rear, with many tables, each with its own fixed parasol overhead. Every parasol was overflowing with many growing flowers and trailing plants, all obviously exquisitely tended and nurtured.
As with the seats around the pool, some of the tables were occupied, some remained empty. The whole scene was lit by what appeared to be a succession of candles, and a few burning braziers – there didn’t appear to be a single electric light anywhere.
The last of the light from the sun had long since disappeared, so the flickering lights danced an entrancing pattern across Sarah’s vision as her eyes adjusted to the dimpse, in comparison to the brighter lights inside the hotel. For some reason a bell rang once, far off and sonorous. Sarah wondered why, then walked on.

As her eyes adjusted to the change in light, Sarah walked along the poolside, and was surprised to see that many of the loungers were occupied by not one, but two or more people.
As she passed the first occupied one, her surprise turned to astonishment as she realised that the lounger contained two voluptuous young women, both naked, and both intertwined, their arms and legs wrapped around each other, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.
Agog, Sarah averted her eyes and hastily looked elsewhere as she neared the two girls. As she looked around though, her now fully adjusted eyes saw that on most of the occupied seats were couples all engaging in some form of sexual congress or other.

She chided herself – the receptionist had warned her that she needed to be open-minded as this ‘fetish weekend’ was in full swing. She stopped, and sneaked a peek back at the two women, now just a few paces behind her.
She saw that both were blonde, and very shapely, and they were now very much in the throes of passion. They were now lying full-length on the lounger, at opposite ends as though in a ying and yang position. As Sarah watched, fascinated, the two began to lick and finger each others vaginas; she could see their glistening slits sparkle in the candlelight.

One of the women stopped and looked up, seeing Sarah for the first time, and smiled at her. The other, realising her partner had stopped also looked up and regarded Sarah with bright, welcoming eyes. The first woman beckoned Sarah towards them, and mouthed the words ‘Come join us’.

Sarah felt a flush of embarrassment – although she’d had a good few boyfriends over the years she’d never tried anything like that. The idea intrigued her, but it remained simply a fantasy, she knew she could never engage in such a thing for real.
She smiled nervously and mouthed the words ‘Sorry, no thank you, not at the moment’ and turned, blushing, and quickly walked on.

As she walked away a nagging thought occurred to her – the two blondes had appeared identical, not just their long blonde hair, but also their lips, cheekbones, eyes, their jawlines. ‘My God!’ Sarah wondered to herself ‘Twin sisters? They can’t be, surely!’ She glanced back, but was too far away now to be sure.

As she hurried towards the tables on the patio at the rear, she passed a number of other loungers where people were engaged in varied sexual acts. She passed a naked middle-aged woman on a lounger who had two men kneeling, one either side of her. Both men were kissing a breast each, and both were sliding fingers into her vagina and her anus.
The woman’s eyes were tightly closed, and as she passed Sarah could hear her quiet moans of pleasure.

She neared another where a man was laying back being attended by two girls. One of the girls was sitting astride his penis, riding him, whilst the other lay between his legs, and was licking his genitals and the base of his penis, his anus, and occasionally breaking from that to lap her extended tongue to the anus of the girl riding him.

As she passed by, Sarah saw that both girls were very young, very young indeed, possibly only 15 years old. They both seemed willing participants however, neither appeared to be under the influence of any intoxicants, and then Sarah’s eyes registered the man himself. It was hard to tell, as his face was mostly obscured by the girl writhing above him, but his grey hair and wrinkled skin betrayed him as being older, quite old indeed. Sarah guessed at maybe 70 years old. She felt a slight revulsion at the thought of two girls of such a young age suffering a loss of innocence with the man, but she shrugged her shoulders, and thought ‘Each to their own – they all appear to be enjoying it. Who am I to judge them?’

Finally, Sarah reached the tables, and sat down at a vacant table nearest the poolside. She looked quizzically at a line of stools across the back of the patio area. A row of pretty girls sat there, and as Sarah watched, a man emerged from a doorway to the right, walked along the row, until finally selecting one of the girls. He took her by the hand and she stood and walked with him to a table. Sarah suddenly realised that the girl was naked, as were all the other pretty girls sitting in that row at the back.

The tables were being attended by two smartly-dressed waitresses, and one uniformed man also floated between the tables. As Sarah watched, one of the waitresses approached the table where the man and the naked girl now sat. Sarah noticed that several other tables contained couples where one, or in some cases both, diners were naked.

The other waitress now came to Sarah, and welcomed her. She introduced herself as Karla, and gave Sarah a menu. Karla departed, and Sarah sipped the Tequila Sunrise as she read the bill of fare. Sarah read it for a while, but failed to actually recognise any of the dishes listed there, so she looked around for some assistance. Karla returned, and Sarah asked for advice. On Karla’s recommendation, she chose the chef’s special ‘Porc Longue’ – whatever the hell that was. She asked for some wine to match the meal, and Karla called over the uniformed man and introduced him as their Maitre D’ – ‘The Captain’. He recommended an Italian red to accompany her meal choice, and disappeared to fetch the wine.

He returned shortly after with a wicker-encased bottle which he opened at the table for her, and poured a little as a taster. She sipped a little, and then nodded to him to pour the wine. He did so, leaving the remainder of the bottle on the table, and vanished once more. Sarah looked at the bottle, and smiled as she saw a small tag proclaiming the actual ‘wicker-work’ around the bottle to be ‘100% genuine Hemp’.

Her meal arrived a few minutes later, and she ate gladly, sipping the dark red wine as she did so. The meal seemed to consist of Veal rather than the Pork she’d expected (at least it tasted like Veal, a little gamey with a subtle meaty taste), on a bed of fava beans, and accompanied by what appeared to be a couple of large sweetbreads coated in a spicy sauce. The taste of cayenne, acetic acid and other spices mixed with a salty tang, cut across her palette.
It was delicious, and she called the Maitre D’ over to express her satisfaction. She enquired as to the nature of the sweetbreads.
“Chef’s speciality, mademoiselle!” The Captain told her “Boules D’Feu Grande!”

The waitress cleared Sarah’s empty plate, and asked if she cared for a post-prandial drink. Sarah thanked her and ordered a brandy. The Maitre D’ soon reappeared with a brandy glass containing a large measure of what he informed her was a vintage Armangac, a 1969 in fact. Impressed, Sarah thanked him again and settled back into her seat at the open-air table.

She noticed a metal framework approximately the size and shape of a door-frame in the space between the tables on the patio and the pool surround. A number of people appeared to be gathering around it, some standing, some fetching their chairs across and sitting.
Presently, the distant bell rang again, and a hooded man, naked apart from his head covering, was led by two shapely women to the centre of the frame. Both women were dressed in identical tight black trousers, black blouses and thigh-length boots, their long hairs tied back into taut pony-tails.
They lifted the man’s wrists to the top corners of the frame, and bound them there with rope, then spread his legs wide, and bound them to the bottom of the sides of the frame in a similar fashion. One of the women whipped off the hood from the man’s head and Sarah gasped in amazement as she saw that he had a ball-gag in his mouth.

Sarah had never seen one for real, except on the shelf of that upmarket sex-shop she’d visited once in London, near Covent Garden – and she’d seen pictures of them on the web-site that she’d used to order herself the Rampant Rabbit that gave her so much pleasure during lonely nights, so the sight of the man suspended from the frame, unable to move, and unable even to speak came as somewhat of a shock to her sensibilities.

She watched, fascinated, as one of the pony-tailed women pulled a number of objects from a bag attached to her belt and laid them out on a nearby table. One of them was a short, pointed, black object. Sarah was again reminded of that visit to the sex-shop, as the words ‘butt-plug’ formed in her mind.

She wasn’t mistaken.

The woman inserted the plug roughly into the man’s anus, and Sarah heard him gasp and grunt – his voice stifled by the gag. The woman then picked up a longer object – with horror Sarah saw that it was a cat o’nine tails – a whip for Christ’s sake! Her mouth formed a perfectly round ‘O’ as she watched the woman begin to lash the man, first across his back, then moving down to his buttocks. Lash, lash, lash, the whip was brought to and fro across his body for a whole minute, maybe more, then the woman began to flick it upwards between the man’s tied, splayed legs. The tips of the cat were now flicking against the man’s inner thighs and genitals. Sarah looked on, transfixed, unable to believe exactly what she was seeing, as she noticed that, oddly, the man’s penis was now fully erect.

She began to realise that the scene she was witnessing was beginning to arouse her, too. She couldn’t believe that this depraved scene could possibly be turning her on, but she could feel herself becoming ‘interested’ and knew that her vagina would be beginning to moisten.

Then she saw the second woman put on a gauntlet in order to remove a thin steel pin, around three inches long from the closest brazier and approach the bound man. The pin glowed red-hot from the heat of the fire. The first woman ceased whipping, and reached between the man’s legs from behind, seized his hard member with one hand around the base, and held it steady.

The second woman, using the thumb and forefinger of her free hand, pulled a flap of the man’s foreskin forward then, with one swift movement of her other hand, slid the red-hot pin through the foreskin! There was a brief sizzle as the pin cauterised the skin, and the man let out a loud cry, still stifled by the gag in his mouth. Astonished, Sarah placed her hand over her mouth.

To her amazement, as she watched, Sarah saw the man’s penis twitch, then he began to ejaculate, several spurts of his cum flying out and landing on the ground a few feet in front of him.
The woman released her gauntleted grip on the pin, and the weight of it pulled the cock downwards, so that his member now pointed towards the floor, the pin still though it.
A few drops of semen dribbled from the tip, landing on the ground between the man’s outstretched feet.

The two black-clad women untied the man and led him away, holding his arms to guide him, as he appeared to be walking with some difficulty after his whipping and piercing.

Dizzy from a combination of the alcohol and the sights she had just witnessed, Sarah rose to her feet, and made her way a little unsteadily across the courtyard back towards the entrance to the building.

A tall man, dressed impeccably in a smart suit gently stopped her “Miss Dalton?” he said.

“Er….yes?” Sarah replied suspiciously.

“Let me introduce myself” the stranger continued. Sarah noted his immaculate suit and tie, and looked at his smooth, shaven head and long, thin moustache. He was tall and imposing, a formidable man, but his disarming smile and charming air put Sarah at ease. “I am your host here, this is my place!”

Sarah bowed towards him slightly, and politely said “Pleased to meet you. It’s certainly a …..different type of establishment, but I’m happy to be here this evening – thank you for your hospitality. Now if you will excuse me, I must retire. I have an early start tomorrow, and I have to get someone to come out and fix my pick-up.”

“My dear young lady,” the man continued “Your vehicle has already been fixed! I saw it outside earlier, and got our Nightman to fit the spare for you!”

At this Sarah affected a little curtsey, and smiling gratefully she said “How kind of you! Thank you…er….sorry, what do I call you?”

The man smiled, “Just call me Anton, my dear. I do hope that you will enjoy the rest of your stay here, and that you have not been offended by anything you’ve seen – by way of an apology if you have been, I have instructed a bottle of bubbly to be placed in your room for you, with my compliments.”

Sarah thanked the man again and, slightly unsteadily, made her way up to her room. By now the tequila, wine and brandy were all having a serious effect on her. She giggled nervously as she entered her room, still unsure about what she had seen. Despite being a tad drunk now, she still felt aroused by the strange sights she had seen. She looked at the ice bucket on its stand alongside her dressing table, and at the glass on the tray alongside it. “Oh, bugger it!” Sarah said out loud, now slurring her words slightly “Why not?” and so she pulled out the bottle of ros?hampagne and opened it. It fizzed slightly, and as she attempted to pour it into the glass, it frothed over the top, soaking her fingers as she held the glass.

“Oh fuck it!” she giggled, then licked her wet fingers. She laughed, then kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed. She drank a little more of the champagne and thought about the night’s events. By now she was beginning to feel genuinely horny, so she placed the champagne on the bedside table, and drunkenly began to pull her clothes off. She deposited her blouse and skirt over the back of the chair near her bed, unhooked her bra and threw it on the floor then lay back on the bed. She lifted her legs in the air, pushed her panties up her legs and flung them to one side. She sat up, took another sip of champagne then lay back once more. She admired her own naked body reflected in the ceiling mirror of the bed for a moment, then allowed her hands to travel down over her breasts, across her flat stomach and finally into her pussy.

She began to slide a couple of fingers into herself, and realised as she did so that she was already soaking wet. She slipped another finger in, and then a fourth, frigging herself furiously now with her right hand. Her left hand caressed her boobs, and then she slid it towards her mouth and began to suck on the fingers.
While she did this she pictured the woman she had seen receiving the attentions of two men earlier, and the forbidden fruit of the two sisters she had seen on the lounger at poolside.

Unbidden, old memories sprang into her mind of a long-ago childhood game with her own sister, Amanda, a year her junior, where they had pretended to be nurses and doctors to each other. They’d fingered each other in their bedroom during the course of their play, and had been enjoying the strange new, pleasurable sensations, but Mother had come into the room unexpectedly and had been horrified. She had shouted and screamed at them before bursting into tears. Both Sarah and Amanda had been so sorry that they’d upset their mother, and they’d promised they never do anything like it again.

She changed hands now, savouring the taste of her own love juices as the right hand moved from her vagina to her mouth and her left hand replaced it. She moaned softly and watched herself in the mirror above as she slid her right hand back down over her body to her pubic area. Then she used her fore and index fingers from her left hand to stimulate her clitoris while she continued to slide fingers in and out of her vagina with the right.

With one final gasp, she reached a warm, comforting orgasm, and then lay across the bed, savouring the smooth silk of the sheets. She pulled the top sheet over herself and drifted off into dreamland.

She slept a fitful sleep, drifting in and out of sleep as old fantasies came to mind then faded away again. She dreamt of being taken by force, of being dominated, like the man she had seen in the frame. She dreamt of being woken by a man making love to her, of making love to a stranger, of making love in public, even making love to another woman – all these deep-seated fantasies were coming to the surface after the extraordinary things she had witnessed earlier that evening.

She felt hands slide under the sheet and begin to run across her body. She shivered with anticipation, thinking that it was still her dream, but then suddenly she realised that there was someone in the room with her! She opened her eyes to find two men grasping her body. Strong hands held her, holding her upper body immobile, and she suddenly felt a sharp pang in her upper arm. She turned her head to see a syringe being discharged into her arm, and she had only time to scream briefly, before she felt herself falling into a deep well, and Sarah’s world went black.

*****

As Sarah regained consciousness, her mind swam with confusion. She was aware that it was dark, she could feel something covering her head, and that something was in her mouth, forcing it open.
She had no idea where she was, or what was occurring. She heard a single bell ring, distant and sonorous.
She felt strong hands lifting her arms, and the feel of something being tied around her wrists. Immediately after, her ankles were pulled apart, and the ropes were tied around them too.

As the effects of the drugs began to wear off, with horror Sarah realised that she was naked, she could feel the open air on her body. As the memories of earlier that evening began to flood back, she guessed where she was.
The hood over her head was whipped off, and Sarah realised she was right – she was tied and gagged in the frame in the middle of the courtyard, as the man she had watched had been earlier.

With a mixture of fear and anticipation Sarah wondered what was going to happen to her. Unable to move or even speak she looked at the scene around her.
A small crowd had gathered some sitting, some standing, just as before.

Through the crowd, the two girls Sarah had seen on the poolside lounger earlier walked towards her, both still naked.
Sarah could see them clearly now, and it was apparent that both actually were twins – they were young, Sarah guessed that they were early twenties, and both had the same full bosoms, narrow waists and wide hips. Both girls had long, flowing blonde hair, and their faces were near identical.

They approached Sarah and, without a word, knelt before her and both began to kiss Sarah’s pubis.
Horrified, Sarah did not know what to do. She’d had plenty of boyfriends back in England, and had been at many a wild student party during her university years, but she’d never been naked in front of a group of people, and had certainly never done anything with another woman before. She’d fantasised about it, secretly, but had never ever breathed a word about it to another living soul. Buried even deeper in Sarah’s mind was the memory of that one time when she and Amanda had played with each other and the hitherto unknown pleasures they had discovered that day.

Yet here she was now, tied, helpless, naked in front of a crowd of strangers, with two sisters doing….

Her thoughts were completely derailed as one of the girls suddenly forced her tongue into Sarah. Sarah gasped as the girl began to lick and suck her clitoris, and as she looked down, both girls began to finger her, and both were now running their tongues over the lips of her pussy. Shocked, horrified and disgusted, Sarah was unable to prevent what was happening, and the ball-gag in her mouth stopped her from even speaking.
To her further horror, Sarah realised that she was wet – she was actually beginning to enjoy it! Despite herself, the sensations were electrifying. She saw the two girls, still with their fingers in her pussy, French-kiss each other, Sarah’s pussy juices glistening on their lips, then both returned their attentions to Sarah. Their fingers wet from her juices, they began to finger both her holes now – slippery digits slid easily into her ass and her pussy. Sarah finally surrendered to the pleasure, closing her eyes as she allowed an orgasm to ripple up through her, the sudden burst of warmth coursing through her whole body.

To her amazement, Sarah realised that she was squirting, streams of clear juice gushed from her. Sarah had only ever squirted by using her vibrator before, never with another person, and she gasped with pleasure and amazement as she saw the two sisters, still kneeling before her, jostle for position as the streams of juice squirted out, hitting them on their breasts.

As Sarah hung limply in her place within the frame, she watched as the two twins licked her juices from each other’s breasts. Delirious with the pleasure, Sarah offered no resistance as a pair of large hands reached around from behind her and began to caress her ample breasts. The hands were smooth, well manicured, and as they gently squeezed her breasts Sarah, still in the aftermath of her orgasm, closed her eyes and let her body enjoy the sensations.

After squeezing and teasing her nipples for a while, one of the hands travelled down her body, and from behind reached between her legs and slid a couple of fingers into her pussy. The fingers withdrew, then were slipped into her ass instead, and Sarah could feel her own pussy juices moistening her anus.
From behind the gag Sarah emitted a moan of pleasure as she felt first the tip, then the full length of a penis begin to penetrate her ass. Her muscles still relaxed by a combination of drink, drugs and her recent orgasm, the cock slid easily into her. Sarah had done anal with a few boyfriends before and enjoyed it, but there was always a feeling of guilt involved afterwards – she’d been told it was ‘dirty’, ‘naughty’ and ‘not the sort of thing that nice girls do’ by her mother – the taboo element had always made it more exciting, and now it seemed more exciting than ever.

As the cock slid all the way inside her, Sarah felt the body of its owner come close to her back, those large hands once again caressing her breasts.
Suddenly, with a muffled gasp, Sarah’s eyes opened wide as she realised she could feel what were apparently breasts pushing against her shoulder-blades!
She twisted her head around to see that, indeed, the unknown person currently making love to her was…what? Male or female? Sarah didn’t know. She’d heard of transsexuals, but had never actually seen one – this was too bizarre for words. Sarah felt a wave of nausea run through her, and briefly struggled to break away. There was no way that she could escape though, the strong hands holding her breasts squeezed tighter, as if the person could sense Sarah’s sudden reluctance but was determined to continue fucking her. Sarah was helpless as she saw the smartly-dressed man who had introduced himself earlier as Anton approach her from the front.
“I do hope you are enjoying our hospitality, Miss Dalton?” he enquired.

Sarah began to shake her head, and to protest, but her voice was muffled by the gag, and Anton ignored her actions as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his erect penis out. Sarah stared with horror at probably the biggest cock she’d ever seen, as Anton came close to her, and penetrated her still wet pussy. She tensed, clenching her pussy tight, unwilling to allow this stranger to enter her, but he simply grasped her hips and thrust himself into her, his big stiff cock hurting her as she resisted. Her body still swayed with the rhythm of the fucking she was receiving from behind, and soon Anton joined the rhythm, two cocks humping in and out of her in turn. As Anton pulled her forward, driving his member deep within her, the cock in her ass pulled out, then Anton would push her hips backwards, and the cock behind drove deep in her ass.

Sarah felt first kisses, and then bites on the back of her neck and shoulders, and Anton began to do the same to her breasts. She realised that both the people who were fucking her were also marking her – she would be covered with love-bites she knew.
Still they fucked her hard and mercilessly, both cocks ramming into her with force.

Powerless to resist, Sarah had no option but to go with the flow, and the frantic fucking continued for some time. Despite herself, yet again Sarah found herself beginning to enjoy the sensations, she was totally in the control of others, helpless, dominated, used.

Eventually, she felt the body behind her stiffen, and a warm sensation within her made her realise that the thing behind her had ejaculated into her ass. The cock withdrew, leaving only Anton fucking her, still driving his large cock into her pussy.

Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and a look of sheer animal pleasure was in his eyes as he grunted loudly, then pulled his cock from her, holding it with his right hand and angling it up towards her.
Sarah was shocked, and blinked as a sudden blast of hot cum splattered onto her face, almost covering it. She’d never seen a man cum so much, or so far!
Anton hadn’t finished though, and a second load spurted forth, covering her tits, and a third shot squirted across her lower stomach.

As the cum dribbled over her face and down over her lips, Sarah instinctively licked at it, the warm manly taste filling her mouth. She could feel the cum cooling on her body, its stickiness clinging to her tits and belly.

Drained, she hung limply, unable to move. Anton put his cock away, zipped himself up then took a couple of paces backwards.

“Just one more thing, Miss Dalton…” he said. “You’re ours, now, and so we must mark you as such.”
Puzzled, Sarah had no idea what he meant until the two pony-tailed women she’d seen earlier approached from either side.

To her horror, Sarah saw that one of them had the gauntlet on, and was carrying a glowing hot pin like the one they’d used on the man earlier!
Sarah squirmed, a cold spike of terror running through her body as she realised that she too was to be pierced.
The bounds on her wrists and ankles were too tight though, and merely chafed her skin as she struggled, her body, already drained from the sexual encounters, unable to tear free.

Sarah closed her eyes as the women reached her, and she tensed her body as she felt one of the women pull at the lips of her pussy, dragging them together and outward.
Sarah emitted a muffled scream as she felt the hot pin pass through the lips, and she heard a sizzle as the pin went through. She went dizzy and nearly lost consciousness, as she felt the hands interfere with her down below.
She was only vaguely aware of what was going on for several seconds; her head swam as the initial sharp pain subsided to be replaced by a dull, stinging throb, no less agonising though – tears flowed down Sarah’s face as she hung there in the frame.

When she eventually regained enough of her thoughts, Sarah looked down, and with yet another gasp she saw that small gold rings had been set in her pussy lips, joined with a delicate gold chain, which looped down across her pussy.
The pain was still intense; the stinging sensation was unlike anything Sarah had ever known.

The two women released Sarah’s ankles, then her wrists. She flopped, drained and exhausted by her ordeal. The two women grabbed her arms to support her, and Sarah placed both hands over her pubis, partly to assuage the pain throbbing there, and partly because she was now acutely aware of the crowd of people who were watching her with quiet fascination.
Sarah hobbled as the two women helped her back into the building, and up the lush carpeted corridors an stairs to her room. They sat her down on the bed, then left her there alone.

Sarah wanted to pull the rings from her, to get rid of this intrusion on her body, but she couldn’t face the pain of attempting to remove them. She looked around, and saw that her clothes had been picked up – her jacket, blouse and skirt were hanging in the wardrobe, which had been left open, and her underwear was neatly folded on a shelf in there.

She realised that she had to get out of this crazy place before anything else happened, so she unsteadily got to her feet, and dressed.
She stumbled out of her room, the burning sensation in her knickers still making her wince as she hobbled down the corridor, and the stairs towards the reception.

The night man was sitting behind the desk as Sarah approached from the right. He simply smiled enigmatically as she deposited the key on the desk, gave her name and room number and told him she was checking out.

Still walking with some difficulty, Sarah walked out through the exit doors, only to discover that she was at the beginning of a long corridor. It was carpeted and decorated in the same ornate style as the rest of the hotel, and Sarah thought that perhaps she was mistaken, she was sure that the exit led straight out into the car park where the fixed flat-bed ford was waiting for her.
No matter, she thought, as she hurried along the corridor as fast as she could with her groin giving her that stinging pain. She reached the end of the corridor, and it opened into yet another similar corridor. Sarah turned right, struggled along it, and through the doors at the end.

To her bewilderment, she found herself back in the reception area, this time approaching it from the left.
The night man still remained silent, and still continued to smile enigmatically.

Confused, Sarah went back through the exit and along the corridor once more. She began to hurry now; a strange feeling of panic was creeping up on her. This time she turned left at the junction with the other corridor and hastened to the doors there.

Dumb-founded, Sarah found herself back in the reception once more!
Disorientated, she paused, unsure of what to do next. She looked quizzically at the night man, who was still simply smiling at her.
Finally the man spoke;

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave….”

---