THE NEXT DAY, ELLA WAS brought to a new activity room, one with new equipment, new furniture—
And apparently, a new trainer.
“Where is Mr. Lamont?” She asked the man standing in the middle of the room, who was offering her a welcoming smile.
“You’re done with him,” he said, his smile wavering. “I thought he told you.”
Ella stammered. “He told me we were done, but I thought he meant done for the day. I didn’t think he meant….” She looked over the new man with greater scrutiny, understanding now he was to be her new trainer.
He was older than Mr. Lamont: his thick hair was a glimmering silver, and laugh lines framed his sparkling green eyes. But his trim and toned figure was obvious under the dark grey suit. He was older, yes, but still a very attractive man, and strong enough to take her down if he had to.
Dear God, where had that thought come from?
“Who are you?”
The man raised his eyebrows. “My name is Mr. Harden,” he said. “I’m to be your trainer now. It’s nice to meet you, Ella.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Sir.”
“What?”
“‘It’s nice to meet you, too, Sir.’ As your trainer, you will address me properly.”
“I’m sorry—Sir. Jeez, why do you people have to stand on ceremony so much?” The question broke from her mouth before she could stop it.
Mr. Harden’s smile faded. “We do this, Ella, so everything is clearly defined between us from the start. Rules help us remember our roles. Now why don’t you try saying hello to me again, and this time, address me properly.”
Ella flushed. “Hello, Sir.”
Mr. Harden’s smile returned, and a gleam entered his eyes. “There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Let’s take a look at you.”
His eyes grazed up and down her lithe form, and he nodded approvingly. “The dress becomes you, but I understand you have been fitted with corsets, correct?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“From now on, I want you to wear them. Let’s start with, oh, three hours a day? You can wear them in the confines of your room if you want, but I would prefer it if you wore them around the hotel, as well. You should treat them as part of your regular wardrobe now. I’ll have Stacey make sure you have matching skirts to complete the outfits when you go out.”
Ella gnashed her teeth together. The man was treating her like his own personal dress up doll. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome. Now get undressed.”
Ella’s jaw dropped. She supposed she should have been expecting the order—after all, it seemed to be standard for the trainers around here to order her to strip within five minutes of greeting her—but it still shocked her. He had said it so easily, so coolly, like he was asking her for the time.
Ella supposed it was natural for the hosts of the Hotel Bentmoore to expect the women under their “care” to have no shame or reservations about stripping at the merest suggestion, but Ella did not feel so amiable.
Mr. Harden seemed to sense her quandary. “Mr. Lamont told me you have lingering problems with your modesty, and undressing in front of a man.”
“I don’t. I just….”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is beautiful.”
“I know, Sir.” Her voice turned cold.
Mr. Harden paused. “Do you want to be here, Ella?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be here, at the Hotel Bentmoore? Do you want this job?”
Ella squirmed. “Yes, Sir.”
“Then follow orders. Get undressed, and have a seat on the bed. We’ll go over some rules, and hopefully this will clear things up between us.”
Ella whipped her hair back and puffed some air through the corner of her mouth. Then she began to unbelt her dress with quick yanks.
“No,” Mr. Harden shook his head. “Slowly. Prolong the moment. I’m seeing your body for the first time; let me enjoy it. Tease me with it.”
Ella paused. Then, moving at a snail’s pace, she finished the job of unbuckling her belt, keeping her eyes locked onto her new trainer.
If he noticed her impudence, the petulance in her eyes, he made no remark upon it. “That’s it, Ella,” he said. “Slowly.”
As Ella pulled down the zipper of the dress, she spread the front open wide, revealing her pale, pink-tipped breasts. The zipper descended further, unveiling her narrow waist, bony hips, and flat, feminine belly. As the dress fell down to the floor, Ella bent one leg in front of the other, put her hands on her hips, and jutted out her chin, giving Mr. Harden a brazen, flashy pose.
His grin was wide as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Very nice, Ella,” he said. “I don’t think modesty is your problem—just motivation. Have a seat on the bed. Let’s talk.”
Ella sat down and crossed her legs, feeling like her effort to annoy him had been thwarted. She debated whether she should open her legs and give him a nice teasing view of her cunt, but decided that might be overdoing it.
Or maybe not….
“Don’t cross your legs in front of me,” he said. “Bend them straight out.”
Ella obeyed, biting back a sharp retort.
“Now then: Mr. Lamont, I understand, did a nice job taking you through the first stage of your training. He introduced you to our equipment, taught you the basics of BDSM, and helped you to tap into your inner masochism. You should no longer have any fear of walking into any one of our activity rooms and seeing all our equipment. Am I correct?”
Ella’s voice was almost mute as she looked down at the floor. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. The next stage is going to be putting some of that fear back.” Ella’s eyes snapped up, and he chuckled. “Pain can be an instrument of pleasure, Ella, but it can go to a dangerous place in the wrong hands. You need to learn your thresholds now, how far you can go, how much pain you can take. Everyone has limits. With my help, we will figure out yours. You will also begin to learn sexual techniques, how to entice, how to seduce, how to beguile. You will become an expert of the flesh, and learn how to bring men to the heights of pleasure.”
Ella bared her teeth in a scowl. “You make it sound like I’m learning how to be a whore.”
“No,” Mr. Harden said, shaking his head. “You are no cheap dime whore. You will be like the proud and noble courtesans of royalty: a well-bred and well-educated artist of the trade. You will be sought after by many, but you will choose whom you favor with your talents.”
Her surprise was obvious. “I get to choose?”
“Of course you get to choose, Ella. The relationships we foster at the Hotel Bentmoore are intimate affairs. It will be up to you to decide which guests you play with. We offer suggestions, of course, and hope you are willing to experiment and keep an open mind. But in the end, it must be you who agrees, and gives consent.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You won’t have much of a job here. But then, you always have the choice to leave.”
Ella’s eyes grew stormy blue. She understood now what he was trying to say: play the high-class slut, or be shown the door. “I see.”
“No,” he shook his head again, “it is clear you don’t, but you will. Consent should never be given lightly, Ella. It requires a lot of deliberation, and, especially in the beginning, a lot of negotiation. But the first thing it requires is knowing yourself.” He looked at her through slanted eyes as he said softly, “I don’t think you know yourself at all.”
Ella was quiet.
“There is going to be one major change with my training techniques from what you were used to with Mr. Lamont,” he went on. “I’m going to push you harder than he did, which means you’re going to need a safeword. Tell me, Ella, do you know what a safeword is?”
Ella had a feeling he knew she had learned about safewords from Mr. Lamont, but was trying to test her knowledge. “It’s a word the bottom can use to stop the scene.”
“That’s right. A safeword is used to grind the scene to a halt. Now, whether play continues after that is up to those playing. Some people take a few minutes to work things out, and continue on with the scene. Others use the safeword to stop all play for the night, and move on to aftercare. But here at the hotel, the basic tenant is that once the bottom uses her safeword, the Top must stop whatever he is doing, and figure out what happened that prompted her to use the safeword.”
“I would think it’s obvious,” Ella said, her voice full of derision. “He went too far.”
“That is often true, yes. But there are many ways a Top can go too far, and he has to figure out where he crossed the line. The safeword can be used as a tool, too. It can be used to test the limits of a bottom.” Ella blanched as understanding began to set in. “You’re going to need a safeword from now on, Ella,” Mr. Harden said, “because I’m going start testing your limits.”
Ella shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Sir, what is my safeword?”
“Eventually, you will think up your own unique safeword, but for now, we will stick with the old standby, ‘Red.’ Can you remember that, Ella?”
“Yes, Sir. Red.”
“Very good. Let’s get started, shall we?” With a wave of his hand, he motioned Ella to the other side of the large wardrobe.
Ella walked around the large piece of furniture, looked to what Mr. Harden was motioning her to, and caught her breath.
There, attached to the wall, was a large, pink, silicone dildo. It jutted out from the wall like a vulgar obscenity, and curved upward exactly the way a real cock would.
“What…?”
“One of the fundamental crafts a mistress of the Hotel Bentmoore must master is how to give a good blowjob. Sadly, many women walk in here completely lacking in their skills. So we’re going to start with this: I want you to think of that dildo as the best tasting cock in the world, and try to suck it off.”
Ella stared at the dildo in horror. “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“It’s not even real!”
“You think I want to put my cock in your mouth and risk getting bit? No.” He shook his head. “Believe me, once I know you have the basic techniques down, I will look forward to moving you onto the real thing. But for now, show me what you’ve got with that.” He pointed her back to the dildo.
Ella stepped up to it, grimacing. Making a face of complete disgust, she pressed her lips to the tip of the smooth plastic cock.
Then she pulled away. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “I feel silly.”
“You won’t once you get used to it. Go on, take it in your mouth.” When Ella didn’t move, his voice grew hard. “Do it, Ella.”
For a second, she scowled, and the scene threatened to take a precarious turn. The silence between them became heavy as they stared at each other.
But finally, Ella turned her face back to the dildo, and this time, when she pressed her lips against the slick silicone, she opened her lips to let the smooth plastic cock slide inside.
“There you go,” Mr. Harden murmured, pleased. “Get a feel for it.”
Ella stopped when she had the thick helmeted tip well inside her mouth; it felt big and bulbous inside her cheeks. Instinctively, she squeezed her lips around the shaft, trying to accommodate the foreign prick against her tongue.
“That’s good, Ella,” Mr. Harden encouraged her. “Fold your lips around your teeth so you don’t scrape it. Now slide your mouth down.”
Ella closed her eyes and pushed her face forward, getting a heavy mouthful of cock. She squeezed her eyes shut when the sleek dildo hit the back of her throat. Then she released her lips, pulled back, and swallowed the surge of spit in her mouth.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Harden give her a look of displeasure. “You’ve never deep-throated, have you?”
Ella freed her mouth to answer the question, sucking some spittle off her lip. “No Sir,” she said. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means letting a cock go all the way down your throat. You’ll need to learn how to do that, but first you need to learn how to control your gag reflex.” He furrowed his brows. “We won’t start on that now. I just want to get an idea what skills you already have, and what you can do. Keep going, do whatever you would normally do with a cock in your mouth.” He pointed back to the dildo.
This time, Ella grabbed the base of the shaft, shoved the dildo into her face, and attacked it with angry gusto, jerking it in and out of her mouth with quick pumps. As she assailed the dildo with her glistening mouth, she shifted her face to the side, just enough to stare furiously at her trainer.
Mr. Harden pursed his lips. “Slow down, Ella,” he warned her.
Ella let go of the dildo and stepped away. “You want me to treat it like a cock, right? This is how I would make it come, right?” Her anger continued to bubble to the surface. She had no idea where it was coming from, but it felt good, and she gave into it without restraint.
Mr. Harden shook his head and tsked; then he opened up the wardrobe and retrieved something from inside. At first, Ella couldn’t see what it was—the door blocked her view. But as he closed the door, she saw Mr. Harden was now holding a paddle in his hand.
“What’s that for?”
“Motivation,” he answered. He came around to her side, bent over, and smacked her ass with the paddle.
“Hey!”
“Hey is for horses. Speak like a proper Hotel Bentmoore woman.” He smacked her butt again.
“Don’t do that!”
“Why not?”
Ella tried hard to think up a valid reason for him, since she knew “it hurts” would not work. “It’s hard to concentrate on my—um, work—when you’re paddling me.”
“Consider it another thing you’ll have to get used to.” He whacked her with the paddle again, much harder this time, and Ella shrieked. “Get your mouth back on that dildo. Work it!”
Furious now, Ella gobbled up the smooth dildo into her mouth and pumped it with straining jaws. Mr. Harden didn’t spank her again.
After a few minutes, she began to get the hang of the task, and relaxed considerably. She sucked the dildo down her tongue with slow pulls of her cheeks and jaws.
“That’s good, Ella,” Mr. Harden said, pleased. “Suck it down, like that. Now lick it.”
Ella began to lick the thick plastic cock with wide strokes of her tongue, coating it with her saliva.
“Gently now…slowly…that’s it, twist your head to get it in there…that’s nice, Ella.”
She put her hands against the wall on either side of the slippery pink prick and leaned forward, bracing herself so she could get a better handle on the fake cock in her mouth.
As she closed her eyes and continued her measured pumping, Ella’s demeanor began to change. Her face flushed, and small beads of sweat appeared over her brow. She pumped her mouth faster, harder, and with hard pulls of her jaws that hallowed out her cheeks every time she pulled back. She worked to take more of the hard rubbery phallus in her mouth, as if she could make it come.
She was beginning to enjoy herself.
“I think you like sucking cock.”
Ella stopped and turned her head—as much as she could with the dildo in her mouth—to look at Mr. Harden, who was gazing at her with a measured grin. “Put your fingers between your legs. Feel how wet your pussy is.”
Ella slid her hand between her legs, dug her fingers between her pussy lips, and found that she was drenched. Her fingers came away coated and slippery with her own juices.
“Ahh, watching you touch yourself with that cock in your mouth looks lovely. Keep touching yourself, Ella,” Mr. Harden instructed. “Rub your pussy. And keep working that cock, too. Make yourself come as you suck it.”
Ella squeezed her eyes shut and whined, shaking her head against the dildo. She could not stand there and pleasure herself as she sucked on a fake cock…she could not….
A second later, she felt the thwack of the paddle hitting her ass again, biting into her smarting mounds.
“Move,” Mr. Harden said.
With another whine, Ella snaked her fingers deeper into her sopping cunt, fitted them right against her clit, and resumed her rabid sucking of the dildo.
After a few moments, she fell into a natural rhythm, and began to pump her face onto the dildo in cadence with her hand rubbing against her clit. Her face bobbed, and her hand rubbed; and every so often, Mr. Harden would smack the paddle against her ass by way of encouragement.
But Ella could tell that he was not deriving any pleasure from her distress; he was only trying to teach her a lesson. There was no passion in his eyes, no satisfaction in his face whenever she cried out in pain.
The fact upset Ella.
She jolted from the shock of her own feelings. What, did she want him to enjoy hurting her?
Yes, realized, she did. She wanted him to enjoy hurting her the way Mr. Cox had obviously enjoyed hurting that woman in the barn. Without that merging of stormy passion, that synergy between man and woman, Top and bottom, all she was left with was a feeling of sour dissidence, and deep detachment from her trainer.
But the disconnect she felt from Mr. Harden helped her maintain control. He wanted her to come, and she would, yes—but when she was ready, when she decided the timing was right, and not before.
Mr. Harden was the one holding the paddle, but Ella was still the one controlling the scene.
A few moments later, when she decided she’d had enough, she let her orgasm go and came with a wail, shuddering and moaning, her mouth fluttering around the hard silicone. Saliva dripped from the dildo as her mouth pressed around the shaft.
As soon as she was done, she pulled her face away from the dildo and leaned her cheek against the cool drywall, breathing hard.
“That was good, Ella,” Mr. Harden announced.
“Thank you, Sir.” Her voice was polite.
Ella had to agree: it had been good. Not because her orgasm had been all that momentous, but because she’d had an amazing epiphany in the process.
She might be a masochist, she might like the pain…but that didn’t mean she had to give up control. Giving into the pain did not have to mean giving up herself.
The realization made her smile.
Unfortunately, Mr. Harden didn’t see it.
“We’re off to a rather rocky start, I’m afraid. I gave her a small test today of her skills with the wall dildo. As we expected, her technique needs a lot of work.”
“But that’s true for most of the women who come through here. That doesn’t explain your worry.”
Mr. Harden paused. “She did the work, complied with my orders well enough…but I never felt like there was any real submission on her part. She followed orders because she chose to, and in the end, she came because she wanted to, when she was ready. She didn’t give up any part of herself—not to me, and not to the scene. Mr. Bentmoore, are you sure she’s a submissive?”
“Yes, Harden, I’m sure. It’s odd she’s fighting her true nature so strongly, though. Keep working with her, see if you can make any progress.”
