Bondage Hotel

Chapter Two-3

It had begun all right, Mile’s reaction to finding her pierced had been everything she had hoped.

But then he had taken over and she was on her knees as a slave-girl calling him Master, and she still couldn’t quite believe what had happened.

She shook her head, amazed at herself.

It was true that she had planned to be his slave-girl and that she would have obeyed him willingly anyway, but she had never anticipated that, instead of immediately taking her in his arms and making her respond helplessly to his caresses, he would order her to wait in silence until he finished doing whatever he was doing.

That had come as a complete surprise to her.

As much of a surprise as her own meek obedience and the instant arousal that had flared in her belly as she sank to her knees in front of him.

Miles strode back into the room with a small wooden box in his hands and walked over to her kneeling body.

“I like the ropes on the bed,” he said briskly, “And I hadn’t noticed that you are already wearing your cuffs. That’s very good. It will save time later.”

Hazel blushed. “Thank you, Mile...Master.”

He frowned, then smiled, “I did not give you permission to speak.”

She very nearly fell into the trap, but just managed to bite off the “No, Master” that was on the tip of her tongue.

“Excellent, Hazel,” he congratulated her, “You’re a fast learner and that is very important for a slave.”

She gave a quick, nervous smile, but kept her mouth tightly closed, wondering why it was so important, then forgot about it as he held out the box to her.

“You have taken so much trouble to give me a present,” he said, “That I have decided to return the favour. This is something I have had specially made for you and I’m quite sure it will be very useful. Go on, take it.”

She took the unexpectedly heavy box from his hands, then hesitated.

“Open it,” he urged. “Don’t be afraid. You deserve it.”

She placed the box on the floor and lifted the lid and her eyes opened wide.

Nestled on a bed of soft black velvet, like a precious jewel, a circle of highly polished steel gleamed in the light and Hazel felt her belly give a slow roll as she saw her own name etched deep into the smooth metal.

She had only ever seen one in the bondage magazines, but recognised it at once.

A slave collar.

An open slave collar.

For her.

Thrilled and horrified at the same time, she lifted it out of the box and gulped as she felt its weight and its smoothness and saw three smaller rings welded to its centre and sides.

“Mm. It is rather nice, isn’t it?” Miles observed and as Hazel raised her stricken eyes to his smiling face, added, “You may speak now.”

“It’s...It’s...beautiful,” she gasped. “I w...want to wear it, but it...it scares me. It’s so strong and so...so...”

“Permanent,” he said flatly. “Yes, it is. It’s meant to be. Now, put it on.”

Hazel licked her dry lips. “W...Will I be able to...to take it off again?”

Miles sighed. “Let me explain something to you,” he said patiently, “What you hold in your hands is your slave collar. When you make the decision to place it around your own neck, you become a slave. And as a slave, it is no longer your decision whether you wear a collar or not. That is up to your Master. I will be your Master and I had the collar made for you. As my slave, you will wear it for as long as I choose.”

His uncompromising words left no room for doubt or further discussion and Hazel made the only decision her aroused body, her curiosity and her desire to repay and please him, would let her make.

Without a word, she lifted the gleaming steel and snapped it closed around her slim throat.

The sharp double click of internal catches locking closed, coincided with her soft gasp of surrender as a foaming wave of love juices thundered into her belly and her long delayed orgasm swept over her.

On her knees before the man she called “Master” and whose steel encircled her throat, Hazel shuddered and spasmed to the thrilling knowledge that, of her own free will, she had collared herself and by so doing, become his slave.

Miles allowed her no time to reconsider her decision. “On your feet, slave,” he ordered, “Go to the bed and spreadeagle yourself.” Then he followed her as she stumbled to the bedroom and obeyed.

Still pulsing to her climax, Hazel shivered as the waiting ropes drew taut on her cuffed limbs, opening her wide and securing her helplessly.

Miles stripped naked and perched on the bed beside her, his eyes glowing with pleasure and lust as he jingled the keys to her padlocked rings. “Your first climax as my collared slave,” he said softly. “The first of many you will receive as I teach you your slavery.”

Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, he pressed his palm over her lips. “You will remain silent until I give you permission to speak, slave,” he said coldly. “If you disobey, you will be gagged. It is important for a slave to learn quickly. If you do not, you will learn that a slave may be punished.”

Hazel gulped and clenched her teeth, both excited and frightened by his stern expression.

She didn’t really think he would punish her and couldn’t imagine what that punishment might be, but realised that it would be extremely foolish to disobey or argue with him when she was so tightly tied.

He reached between her spread thighs and unlocked her padlock, then unhooked her rings to give access to her damply glistening s*x as her labia folded back.

His fingers caressed her, stroked her, fondled her remorselessly and Hazel writhed in her bonds, her body on fire as she fought a desperate, losing battle not to scream and beg him to make her come.

It was a battle she could not possibly win and Hazel knew it.

As well as she knew that she did not really want to win it, for in losing the battle, she would be forced to give in to the ropes that bound her and the blazing passions that her helplessness and his touch combined to ignite in her.

The firm grip of tape over her lips and cheeks as he gagged her, sent her hurtling into a second climax, but, to her instant and growing horror, his hands did not stop and her eyes bulged wildly, her fingers clawing at the air as he forced her arousal still higher.

Squealing in panic, Hazel struggled frantically to free herself and stop the ever increasing tumult in her body, but she had been bound by a Master and her efforts achieved nothing but the chilling realisation that she was utterly at his mercy.

Staring down into the anguished, pleading eyes of his captive slave, Miles chuckled grimly. “You are a slave now, Hazel and you must submit to your Master totally. And you will, whether you like it or not.”

The bound redhead whimpered, then screamed as a third unstoppable orgasm convulsed her belly as he thrust his fingers deep into her s*x and forced her to surrender yet again.

“You see, slave,” Miles grinned. “I give the orders and you obey. If I decide to make you come, then you will and if I don’t, then you won’t. No matter how much you would like to. That’s how it works, slave and how it will continue to work while you wear your slave collar.”

Hazel shuddered in terrible despair as her belly pulsed and kicked, but there was absolutely nothing she could do and her brain reeled as she faced the awful truth that her wish to please Miles by becoming his fantasy slave-girl, had gone far beyond what she had ever imagined.

The collar locked so immovably around her throat was no fantasy and, incredible as it seemed, he clearly intended to keep her as his slave.

He rolled on top of her and his hard, engorged maleness plunged to the bubbling core of her belly as he took her with deep, fast lunges. His fingers and lips nibbled and squeezed her erect, painfully sensitive n*****s until she squealed and wept in horror and shame as she submitted to his absolute dominance over her. Her body exploded into a fourth gigantic climax as his seed hosed into her pounding belly.

For Hazel, the staggering shock of being treated...and taken...as a subjugated slave-girl, was absolutely devastating and she slumped in her bonds, panting for air through flaring nostrils, her sweat soaked body shaking to the power of her climax and her eyes wide with the stunned disbelief of her submission to her Master’s ruthlessness.

Far too late, she began to understand the true nature of her slavery and that Miles would never be satisfied with anything less than her full and complete capitulation to his Mastery.

As his instantly obedient and wholly submissive slave-girl.

Pinned beneath her Master’s relaxed body, spreadeagled by his ropes and spasming from his brutal ravishing of her helpless nudity, Hazel knew that the collar she had placed about her own neck would never be removed and that she would be made to serve him in any way he demanded of her.

What those demands might be, she could only speculate, but one thing was frighteningly clear...

Her body was already enslaved, unable...and unwilling...to resist his touch and his lips.

And where her body led, Hazel recognised and accepted, her mind must, eventually, follow...

When he untied her arms and sat her up, then ordered her to put on a thin blue blouse he gave her and cross her wrists behind her, Hazel had little option but to obey, for her ankles were still securely lashed to the bedposts.

Thirty seconds later, she shivered to the feel of cold, inescapable steel on her flesh as he handcuffed her and then removed her leather cuffs.

With her gag still in place, she could not protest as he untied her legs, helped her to her feet and marched her out to his car.

A thousand questions raced through her brain as he got in and started the engine, but she could give voice to none of them and as he drove through and on into the country, she shuddered helplessly, a prey to nameless fears.

The countryside grew flat and open, unknown to Hazel, the names of towns and villages conveying nothing to her and she shrank down in her seat, trying vainly to conceal her naked thighs and belly and the collar gleaming on her throat.

At last, he turned in through a pair of massive iron gates and drove up a long smoothly surfaced drive across well-kept parkland studded with large groups of trees.

And Hazel saw the large, well proportioned house where, unsuspected by her, she was to become a fully trained and ultimately submissive slave-girl.

In the Bondage Hotel…