THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED by in a blur, as Mr. Lamont continued to teach her all about sex toys, bdsm equipment, and what kinds of things Ella might experience as a masochist and as a sub.
His lessons were straightforward and thorough, punctuated now and then by Ella’s need to come. She didn’t need the machine anymore to become aroused; just looking at all the sex toys made her wet.
Mr. Lamont was proud of her progress. “Most people need months in the scene to learn everything you’ve learned in the last few days,” he told her.
“Thank you Sir,” Ella replied.
“You’re welcome,” he said, grinning. “You know, with your beauty and your brains, you’ll make a fine mistress of the hotel.”
Ella had no response to that. The compliment had touched her heart in a way she hadn’t expected, and she locked it away in a safe place where she kept all her cherished memories.
She was beginning to feel a little guilty for the way she was misleading everyone, especially Mr. Lamont. Not enough to stop what she was doing, of course. She needed this story, or she might be living on the street next month. But the people here were definitely not the kind of lowlifes she had been expecting. And they acted as if she was one of them, or at least would be, eventually.
A few days later, the seamstress finished most of Ella’s wardrobe. Stacey brought the clothes down to Ella’s room for her, acting more excited about the apparel than Ella.
“Aren’t the corsets beautiful?” She asked as she held one up, her eyes liquid and dreamy in awe. “Try one on!”
Ella held up one of the other corsets to her torso and looked down at it. “I don’t know how to put it on.”
“That’s what I’m here for, Ella. I’m going to teach you how to put on a corset by yourself. You’ll be wearing them a lot, and you won’t always have someone to help you. Here, take your dress off.”
“Uh….”
“Don’t be shy, Ella. It’s just us girls.”
Ella shrugged her shoulders and unzipped her dress. As it fell to the floor, unveiling her nakedness, a moment of discomposure made Ella blush. But Stacey’s bubbly and matter-of-fact demeanor quickly dispelled it, and soon, the two women were giggling in excited camaraderie.
“Ooh, look at the lacing on this one,” Stacey remarked, holding up the gleaming silk and lace. “I’m going to have to ask the seamstress to make me one like this! Here, turn around, let me help you into it.”
“What do I do?”
“Just stand still. I’ll let you know when to hold your breath.”
Putting on a corset, Ella learned, was an involved process. Hooks had to be snapped closed, material had to be adjusted, and strings had to be pulled. As Stacey tightened up the corset, Ella went through a couple moments of panic when she feared her ribs would implode, but Stacey quickly loosened up the lacings so Ella could breathe again, chuckling at Ella’s expression.
When the process was done, the strings tied and tucked in, Stacey told Ella to go look at herself in the full-length bathroom mirror.
“Just look at your waist! And your chest! I wish I had breasts like yours. You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, taken aback. It was the first time another woman had ever complimented her on her breasts. Men had complimented them, of course; but those compliments meant nothing. Hearing a woman compliment her chest felt different, and strangely heartwarming.
As Ella gazed at herself in the mirror, she had to agree: the corset did wonderful things to her figure. Her breasts, already perky before, now snuggled side by side inside the tight corset, like soft pillows pressing against each other. Her hips, too high and square for her liking, now flared below her waist in a perfect hourglass shape.
Ella circled her waist with her hands, and found she could almost enclose it. When she turned around, she noticed the curve of her back, sleek and smooth, now sloped gracefully to show off the contours of her butt. Her soft white buttocks rounded out under the hem of the corset.
She turned to face front, and her eyes travelled down to her pussy. She had been ordered to keep it shaved and smooth, and she had to admit, she liked it that way.
With her blonde hair cascading down her back, her blue eyes bright, her skin gleaming, Ella looked like a sleek, sexy debutant. For a moment, she admired her reflection, feeling beautiful.
Then she realized what she was doing: preening at herself in front of the mirror, acting like a wanton slut! What the hell was wrong with her?
“Can I take it off now?” She called out, turning away from the mirror in disgust.
“I guess,” Stacey said, frowning at the change in Ella’s tone. “Let me show you how to take it off, and then I’ll show you how to put it on by yourself. We’ll practice a few times together.”
“Okay.” Ella’s voice was less than enthusiastic, but Stacey pursed her lips and set herself to the task she had been sent to do.
She showed Ella how to hook and unhook the corset in the front, and then instructed her the best way to tighten it up the back. It took Ella half a dozen tries, and by the time she was done, she was sweaty and irritable, all her composure gone; but she finally felt like she could do it on her own.
“For now, you don’t have to wear a corset unless one of the trainers tells you to. That probably won’t be until Shern or Harden,” Stacey said, as Ella put back on her dress.
“Thank God. I can’t imagine walking around in this thing all day.”
“If you wear it long enough, your body conforms, and it doesn’t bother you so much.”
“Oh.” Ella tried to smile, but the smile never reached her eyes.
“I’m to take you to breakfast now,” Stacey said, “and then you’re supposed to get some exercise. Mr. Lamont has ordered you to go for a swim.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“Good. Let’s head upstairs for some breakfast. I hear the chef is experimenting with a new recipe for Belgium waffles.”
“And will I be allowed to try it?”
Stacey paused. “I forgot you’re on food restriction,” she said. “But don’t worry, once the training period is over, all that stops.”
That is truer than you know, Ella thought, thinking that once her training period was over, she would be gone from this place anyway.
In the end, Ella was allowed a plate of the waffles, but Stacey warned her Mr. Lamont was much more lax in what he allowed the “new recruits” to eat than some of the other trainers.
“Mr. Shern likes to control everything you eat, down to the salt and pepper. But at least it’s just food. When you compare him to someone like Cox? God, Cox can be such an asshole. I almost didn’t….” She pressed her lips shut. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be putting ideas in your head about the other trainers before you’ve met them. Let me take you back to your room, and you can relax for a while. I’ll pick you up to take you to the pool in half an hour.”
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” Ella said, feeling foolish for overlooking it.
“Don’t worry, I was going to give you one from the hotel, anyway.”
A half hour later, Ella was looking at the tiny scraps Stacey was claiming made up a bathing suit. In another life, the two-piece outfit might have been some kind of bikini, but so much of the fabric had been snipped away, it now looked like a bunch of string held together with wisps of blue cloth.
“I can’t wear this,” Ella protested. “It won’t cover me at all!”
“Mr. Lamont warned me you’re still dealing with some modesty issues. He said this would help you.”
“Oh, did he!”
“It’s not a big deal, Ella,” Stacey said, trying to appease her. “It’s the style here. Why don’t you try it on, and see how you look for yourself?”
Realizing she had no choice in the matter, Ella took the scraps of slinky fabric into the bathroom, and shut the door behind her. When she was done putting on the bathing suit, she turned in the mirror, and took in her reflection.
The suit (what there was of it) was a cobalt blue, and fit over her butt and breasts like second skin. The color managed to complement her eyes. But the top barely covered her nipples, and the material in the back was so thin and narrow, it wedged up her butt. Ella kept trying to pull it out of the crack of her ass.
Stacey stepped into the bathroom and caught sight of Ella’s futile attempt to shield more of her bottom. “It’s supposed to do that,” she laughed. “You have a nice ass, you should show it off. C’mon, I’ll take you to the pool.”
“I can’t walk around the hotel in this thing!”
“You’ll get used to it.” Stacey didn’t wait for her to reply, but abandoned her in the bathroom to wait for her in the hallway. Ella, giving a last look over her shoulder to the pale contours of her ass curving around the tight bikini bottom, sighed, slipped on the matching flip-flops Stacey had oh-so generously provided, and followed behind.
But as she walked out of the bathroom, she grabbed a towel from the rack and draped it around her body. Stacey didn’t say anything.
She led Ella upstairs and through a narrow corridor Ella had never been through before. A simple glass door at the end of the hallway released them outside, and Stacey led the way to the pool.
When they got there, Ella was grateful to see it was completely empty of guests.
“I’ll come back in about an hour,” Stacey said. “Make sure to do some laps—don’t just sit in the sun and do nothing. Okay?”
“Sure,” Ella replied, surprised she was being trusted alone. “I’ll get in my dose of exercise.”
“Good.” Stacey waved and left.
Keeping true to her word, Ella did ten laps across the pool. When she felt like she had fulfilled her obligation, she got out, grabbed one of the wide padded lounge chairs, lay down, and relaxed.
Time went by. Ella began to feel hot in the glaring sun. She wanted to get back to the hotel and take a shower. She wondered how much time was left of that hour Stacey had promised her—
And then she heard a loud, hair-curling scream.
Ella sat straight up and looked around. The scream had sounded close.
Another piercing scream rent the air. Ella scanned the horizon, every nerve ending on her body tingling. She got up and began to walk away from the pool, straight ahead, through a field of grass.
A small knobby hill rose in front of her. Climbing it quickly, she gazed down upon two buildings below. One was the stables, where the hotel kept all their purebred horses. The other was one Stacey had not bothered to show Ella on her tour: it looked like an old, dilapidated barn.
Another scream carried over the breeze, and Ella headed toward the barn.
As she passed the stables, she could hear the horses neighing and clapping their hoofs inside. She wondered why no one had run out from the stables to check the source of the screaming. Perhaps there was no one in there?
As she got closer to the derelict barn, Ella slowed down. Here and there, pieces of the wood siding were drooping to the ground, looking like they were about to break off. Large holes were broken through the high-topped roof, letting the sun stream down inside. The whole structure looked unkempt and abandoned. Even the ground around the barn was gravelly and scattered with weeds.
For a moment, it was quiet.
Then Ella heard a low moan, followed by a choked-off sob. Fearful now, she crept up to the wall, and found a small, filthy window. Crouching down to find a tiny clean spot on the glass through which she could look through, Ella peered inside.
The interior of the barn was even more run down. Dust and rubble were everywhere and coated everything, from the open paneled floor to the wood rafters. Two thick concrete columns rose up to the ceiling, probably to support the decrepit structure.
Ella caught sight of some movement from the far column, and looked that way.
There, tied to the column with thick rope, was a woman.
Her face was blindfolded with a simple black sash, tied to the back of her head. She was standing upright, but naked, looking ethereal in the dusty ray of light coming through the hole in the roof above.
Her arms were hugging the pillar, her wrists tied firmly together on the other side with another matching sash. The knot in the sash was very tight, Ella saw, probably a result of the woman scissoring her hands and pulling on her restraints. Her hair, bleached white and cropped short at the jaw, hung in disarray, and stuck here and there to her sweaty face. Her breasts were flattened against the pillar, her cheek pressed to the side. She was anchored securely, and could not take a single step away.
Ella noticed the way the woman’s back rose and fell, the way her ribs expanded and compressed for breath, the way her soft mouth opened, her lips curling in as she gasped for air. She was breathing hard, heaving and moaning at the same time.
A hiss went through the air, and Ella heard a muted snap. The woman convulsed and cried out, stiffening her arms and hugging the pillar tight. Something had hit the woman’s back, something thin and quick.
Ella looked past the woman, and her mouth opened in shock. A man was standing behind her, holding up something Ella had only seen in movies.
It was a whip.
The man was average height, perhaps half a head taller than Ella. His hair was a creamy brown, his eyes a shade darker. Ella noticed a subtle slant to them, just enough to make him look foreign and, in Ella’s opinion, deeply compelling. Or perhaps it was the way his eyes were filled with lustrous brilliance, shining in the reflected sunlight. His brows were furrowed with concentration, but his lips were curved in a wicked grin.
He was naked.
His arms, toned and smooth with muscle, gleamed in the streaming sunlight. His wide chest, bare and smooth, stretched between broad shoulders. His waist was narrow and chiseled, and his strong thighs bulged with muscle.
He was sporting a massive erection. His cock aimed up to the ceiling, and in his movements, rubbed against his stomach.
The man swung his arm, flicked his wrist, and let the whip fly. A split second later, the woman let out another piercing scream.
Fascinated by what she was seeing, Ella moved to the other stained window, trying to get a better view of the sordid scene unfolding inside the dusky barn.
Now she could clearly make out the woman’s back, ass, legs and thighs; they were covered with long red angry lines of the whip. No part of the tied woman was left unscathed, although her ass had been gifted with the brunt of the man’s workmanship. It was crisscrossed with crimson strokes.
As Ella watched, the man flung the whip again with a wave of his arm, and another scarlet line flushed along the woman’s quivering skin.
Now the blindfolded woman let out a desperate sob as the man began to whip her quickly, mercilessly, with effortless flicks of elbow and wrist. Her reedy back trembled from the onslaught; her knees shook, and her thighs rippled, as if all strength had left her. Her arms slumped as she leaned her body into the pillar, her only source of support.
The whip flew faster, a whirlwind of strikes, and the tone of the woman’s cries began to change. They grew more frenzied, and more fervent; they were cries of unending torture and insatiable need.
Ella knew the woman was not just crying out in pain, she was crying out in crazed passion. She was aroused by the tortuous whipping.
So was Ella.
Sensing the change in the woman’s cries, the man stopped his whipping and came to stand behind the panting, trembling female. Pressing his chest into her clammy, raw, and welted back, he whispered some words into her ear. The woman nodded her head vigorously and let out a breathy “yes, Sir,” scrunching up her face beneath the blindfold. Immediately, the man came around to the other side of the pillar and began to untie her wrists.
A moment later, she was free from her bonds. Ella was amazed the man could untie her so quickly when her restraints had been pulled so tight.
As soon as she was free, the woman crumpled to her knees.
The man rushed around to support her, but did not help her to stand. Instead, he pulled her up under her arms just enough to straighten her back, so that her mouth would be level with his straining cock. Then, putting both hands on either side of her face, he tugged at her cheeks until her lips spread apart.
He pushed his cock inside.
The woman pushed against the man’s thighs with both hands, fighting and gagging against the thick prick being rammed down her throat. But the man grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her head and held her still, pressing even further in with his hips until she had his full length, all the way to his balls, down her long, slender throat.
The woman beat her fists against his legs, making muffled cries around his cock. The man pulled out of her mouth, slowly, inch by inch, just enough until the helmeted tip remained inside and the woman could take a few desperate breaths. But as soon as that was done, he rammed back in, getting nothing but silence out of the straining woman.
The man did this a few times, retreating slowly to let her breathe, then shoving back in, holding himself still inside her hot dripping mouth until she fought for release.
After a few moments, the woman’s struggles grew weak, and she stopped reacting in panic every time he plunged his cock down the back of her throat. Subdued now, beaten down by his steady force and calm authority, she lowered her hands to her sides and accepted his cock into her mouth and throat without protest.
But this wasn’t enough for the man. As soon as she had settled down and yielded to his forceful intrusion, he pulled away from her soft lips completely, popping free his thick erection, and pulled her up by the hair.
The woman howled, trying to grab onto the fingers gripping her hair with such brute force. But she was dragged up to a standing position until she was tipping her head back, grimacing in pain.
As soon as she was on her feet, she was pushed toward the pillar, and only given a split second of warning to put her hands out before she was shoved face first into the column. Ella noticed the force of the shove was not that strong, only enough to shock the woman into obedience; she quickly caught herself against the pillar.
And the ploy worked. As soon as the man tapped the inside of the woman’s feet with his own, she spread hers wide, without protest, heaving against the pillar.
The man pulled her back by the hips, until the diamond of her dusky pink cunt lips peaked out between her thighs. The man stepped up right behind her, nestled his cock between her pussy lips, and thrust inside.
The woman pulled up, shocked by the brutal thrust. Holding her bent by the hips, the man kept her from making any kind of escape, and grinded his groin against her ass.
He began to fuck her hard, with loud smacks of skin hitting skin. Soon, the woman began to push back, moaning and crying as she tried to swallow him up inside her hungry pussy with violent rocks of her body.
The couple’s rhythmic, violent fucking went on and on as Ella watched from the sanctity of the window.
The woman was clearly overcome now by her need for release; she pushed her body back and forth with all her might, trying to impale herself on the man’s rigid cock and bring herself off. If the man had wanted to, he could have let the woman fuck herself on his hard tool, and have her do all the work for both of them.
But that was clearly not what he wanted: he lowered his hands to grip her hips and ass hard, holding them still with his wide spread hands, not letting her gain an inch of control. At the same time, he kept up his own steady pumping, furrowing his brows and making sounds of delight each time his prick disappeared up her swollen, wet cunt.
Only when it was clear the man was about to come did he let go of the woman’s hips and let her thrust her butt back against him, skewering herself on his steely prick. A second later, she was crying out in shattering release, the woman reaching her climax a split second before the man.
She screamed as she came, stiffening her whole body, her smeared mouth forming a perfect O in her face. The man grunted and pounded into her, shuddering in blinding pleasure.
He recovered before she did. As her knees buckled beneath her, he pulled her into his arms.
As Ella watched, enthralled, he picked her up in his arms like a baby, hefted her a little to ensure he had her securely in his arms, and carried her to the corner of the barn. Ella saw now that there was a mattress sitting on the floor, nudged into the corner. It looked clean and soft, covered with a silky yellow sheet, matching pillows, and a thin cotton blanket.
The man lay the woman gently down on the mattress, carefully pulled the blindfold off her head, and looked for any sign of distress on the woman’s face. She gave him a soft smile, but did not open her eyes as she turned her body to her side, looking spent.
Leaning over the women’s face (and giving Ella a very nice view of his flawless ass), the man whispered another few words into the woman’s ear. She nodded slightly, and the man pulled the blanket up over her naked body. All Ella could see of her now was the back of her bleach blonde head, and the gentle rise and fall of her side. The man got up off the mattress and stepped away.
To Ella’s confusion, he disappeared somewhere else inside the barn. Ella could no longer see him—the tiny hole in the window did not allow her to see that far. Ella waited for the man to come back, wondering why he had left the sleeping woman lying there, and where he could have gone.
Her answer came a second later, when she heard a deep male voice right behind her.
“Well now, aren’t you a pretty little thing—for a spy.”
Ella managed a tiny squeak of surprise before her breath locked in her chest. For a split second, she thought the man was referring to her disguise and deception—but no, he was referring to the way she was spying on his scene with the woman sleeping inside the barn.
Ella’s eyes widened as they travelled up the man’s body. For a second, she was left speechless.
He was taller than she had expected him to be. He had also managed to slip on a pair of pants before coming outside. They were unzipped in the front, showing off a nice expanse of flat lower stomach, and a thin line of soft brown hair that disappeared under the pants, right over his crotch.
“You’re wearing a hotel bathing suit,” the man said, looking her over with scrutiny Ella found disarming. “But you’re not hotel staff. I’d know you if you were. So who are you?”
“I’m new, Sir,” Ella stammered. Just like with Mr. Bentmoore, Ella’s natural reaction was to address this man as Sir. “I’m new. I’m still being trained.”
“A trainee? Ah, then you must be Lamont’s new toy. What’s your name?”
“Ella, Sir.”
“Well, Ella, I’m sure you were not instructed to go wandering around the hotel grounds, especially when I booked the barn this morning for my guest. Why aren’t you at the pool?”
“How did you know I was supposed to be at the pool?”
“The bathing suit?” He cocked his brow.
“Oh, right, the bathing suit,” Ella said, flustered. She felt like she should defend herself somehow, but the man was making her feel too nervous to say much of anything. He had caught her spying on him having a hot raunchy scene with a hotel guest. Why wasn’t he chastising her?
“Tell me, did you enjoy your little peep show?” He asked, crossing his thick arms in front of him and looking at her underneath furrowed brows. Ella could feel her whole face go red, but she couldn’t look away from his fascinating eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I know I shouldn’t be here, it’s just—I heard screaming, horrible screaming, and….” Her voice trailed away as the man continued to stare down at her.
“And you just had to check it out and make sure everything was okay.” He shifted his feet to widen his stance against her. “Let me explain something to you, Ella. At the Hotel Bentmoore, you are going to hear a lot of screaming, all the time. It’s not something you have to worry about—unless you’re the one causing the screaming. Are you a masochist?”
“I….”
“You don’t know?”
Ella’s voice lowered. “I believe I am, Sir.”
“Do you like being flogged, paddled, caned?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you’re a masochist. It’s not something you have to believe in. Does Lamont do those things to you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Ella admitted, her face flushing.
His voice lowered to a whisper as his eyes began to dance with sparkling light. “Tell me, has he made you scream?”
The question made Ella’s eyes flare up, and she took a tiny gasp.
“I see he has not,” the man said, clearly disappointed. “Well, he likes to go easy on his women. Now answer the question: did you like what you saw in there?”
“I….” Again, Ella stammered.
“God you’re a timid one,” the man said, sighing. “Lamont must love you.”
“I am not timid,” Ella hissed, gaining some of her courage back. “I’m just….” She shut her mouth as it became clear she had been rendered unable to finish a complete sentence.
“Go back to the pool, Ella,” the man said, shaking his head. “I’m sure someone will be looking for you soon, if they are not already.” He turned around to walk away.
Ella stopped him. “Are you going to tell anyone you saw me here?”
He looked at her over his shoulder. “No,” he said. “There’s no reason to. No harm, no foul. It’s not like Lamont would punish you that hard, anyway.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Ella said, relief thick in her voice.
“Don’t bother.” He took another step away from her.
Ella’s vexation rose. “Who are you?” She called out.
The man stopped. This time, he turned all the way around to face her.
“My name is Mr. Cox,” he said. “I am a host of the Hotel Bentmoore. I am a Dom, a Master, and one of the worst sadists you will likely ever meet. So when I say I won’t tell anyone I found you here, Ella, rest assured, it’s not because I’m doing you a favor. It’s because I’m reserving the right to punish you myself. When the time comes and I get my hands on you, Ella, you will be the one screaming. Now get back to the pool.”
This time, it was Ella who turned around. She ran all the way back to the pool.
Stacey found her sitting on one of the lounge chairs, breathing hard.
“Are you okay?” She asked, putting her hand on Ella’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Ella said. “Just doing some jumping jacks. Getting in my exercise, as ordered.”
Stacey’s look was skeptical. “It’s time to go back to your room. You have a long afternoon ahead of you.”
Ella rose without responding. As she followed Stacey back to the hotel, she gave one last look over her shoulder toward the quiet barn.
