Paradise Hotel

Description

In the foothills above a large city there is a hotel that caters to the BDSM crowd. They offer “Specialized” stays to their guests; highly kinky, erotic and often painful, all at a high price. But Hotel Paradise is unique in that it is not a brothel. All guests are there because they want to undergo the special treatment themselves. A number of programs are offered, varying in type and degree of punishment included.

But there is trouble in this Paradise. Someone wants it shut down, and will do whatever they have to ensure that happens.

Meantime the guests enjoy, or don’t enjoy, the services. From the woman who wants nothing but hogties, to the young woman who feels she must be punished for her sins, there are many stories in the Paradise Hotel. There is the young woman who lies to her father because she loves the kinky way she gets punished there. And even a slave who is ordered by her cruel Master to present herself for a few days of harsh punishment.
Lots of strict rope bondage, punishments of delightfully ingenuity, sex, and very satisfied kinky guests.

Published Dec 2019    42,000 words

When last we left Debby, the young sinner (or so she claimed), she was sitting on the bed with her ankles crossed and her neck tied to them. Her body so bent that her head was almost touching the bed. The main source of pain during this type of bondage was her back. What had started out as a minor ache, had blossomed into a major ache that left her whining and weeping. She had, of course, fought the ropes to no avail. It would have been unlikely that any of the staff at the Paradise Hotel would bind her in any way but absolutely helpless.
With her face down and the terrible ache occupying her thoughts, she was surprised to hear a voice. She had not heard the door open or the person come in.
“Feels really good on the back, doesn’t it?”
She whined as loudly as she could, and shook her shoulders.
“I guess you would like to be untied from this. Do you? I could change your position now or leave you another hour.”
A cry of distress fought its way through the gag.
“On the other hand,” the man continued, “the new way you will be tied may be worse than what you have now.”
A moan greeted that loathsome idea.
“The only choice I can give you is to continue this punishment for another hour or go on to the next one. Make a noise once if you want to stay like this, twice if you want to move on.”
Debby knew that his words were true. It was entirely possible that she would suffer more from the change that not. But what decided for her was the terrible strain and ache happening right then. She grunted twice.
“Very well. First, let’s let you straighten up.”
A hand began picking at the knots and Debby sighed. When the rope holding her bent over was finally loosened and she could straighten up, she let out with a loud moan. Her back had stiffened up and pained her to straighten out. The staff member left her arms tied in that reverse prayer position but removed the ropes on her ankles. He helped her to her feet.
Being unsteady on her feet at first, he held her arm while he checked the gag and binding of her arms. Satisfied that they were still secure, he left her standing there while he fetched some equipment.
“You’ll lucky,” he told her. “The next punishment on your schedule is really rather mild.”
Oh, joy! she thought. A bit sarcastically, but not totally. Maybe he was telling the truth.
“By mild, I mean you won’t be tied in some contorted position that will hurt all by itself. Like this last one. Actually, you’ll be lying on your bed. How’s that for comfort?”
He led her to the bed and, with surprising gentleness, placed her on it, face down. With rope, he tied her ankles towards the bottom corners of the bed, spreading her legs widely. With her arms so tightly bound, that was all he needed to do to immobilize her.
Debby nearly sighed with the pleasure of something soft beneath her. But a little part of her wondered how this was going to be turned into a punishment. It had to, all the items on her program were punishments.
When she felt him climb on the bed behind her, she realized that, with her legs spread as widely as they were, he could easily perform intercourse on her exposed pussy. Then she reminded herself that the hotel has a rule against the staff taking advantage of the guests for that kind of thing. So what was he doing back there if not getting ready for sex?
His touch surprised her. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t just groping her, he was spreading some kind of cream around her asshole and then around her sweet little pussy. His touch was gentle but what that cream was worried her. Even more when he pushed a lot of it deeply into her vagina. His last touch was to shove some into her asshole. When his hand left, the whole area was covered with that cream.
He told her what it was and she whined loudly.
“That is a powerful itching cream,” he said. “It’s a little slow to warm up, but once it gets going, you’ll be driven mad with the urge to scratch yourself. But, of course, with your hands tied like that, you won’t be able to, right? Ever have a maddening itch somewhere you couldn’t scratch it? This is like that but a thousand times worse.”
Debby was whining. Nothing like this had ever happened to her but she sure he was telling the truth. Already there was a mild itching beginning where the cream was on the soft, sensitive flesh inside her vagina.
The man wasn’t finished tormenting the poor girl. “The cream is extremely long lasting,” he said. “Should give you hours of pleasure.” He laughed at his little joke. “I’ll be back after it finally wears off.”
With that, he left Debby to suffer.
She wiggled around but there was no way she could reach the affected area. And the promised itching was beginning.
It wasn’t more than ten minutes before she was whining loudly and in distress. The itching increased rapidly until it covered that whole area, but was especially bad inside her vagina and rectum. In there, the itching was greater than she could ever have imagined. It felt as if she were burning up, but with a strange kind of heat.
Bad as it was, what made it worse was not the intensity, great though that was, it was that it went on and on and on. After thirty minutes, she had exhausted herself fighting the ropes and trying to push and grind her hips against the bed. She was crying
And it continued. The term “maddening” took on new meaning for the suffering girl. This was enough to drive a person mad.
Wild thoughts came to her during her suffering. One was that she should be glad that her hands were bound and useless. If they were not, she would probably have ripped her flesh with her fingernails trying to stop the itching.
She also wished sincerely that she were back in that bent over position, aching back and all. It was not as much torture as this.
It was, in some ways, a mental torture as well as a physical one. And it went on for the better part of two hours before the cream exhausted its potency.