Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
The Doll Hotel
by AmyAmy
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© Copyright 2010 - AmyAmy - Used by permission
Storycodes: F+/m; latex; corset; maid; fem; cd; bdsm; training; cons/reluct; X
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The Doll Hotel 4: Just Punishments AmyAmy F+/m; latex; corset; maid; fem; cd; bdsm; training; cons/reluct; X
continued from part 3

 

Chapter 4: Just Punishments

I must have slept briefly at some point in the night, as I recall a nightmare:

A pitiful Nineteen was desperately trying to struggle her gigantic breasts into her uniform while Housekeeper Four coldly threatened her with expulsion if she couldn't make them fit. As soon as she got one breast into the tight rubber cup, the other started to pop out, and the pressure on her nipples was causing her crippling pain. While she suffered, I was on my back, moaning in pleasure, one hand pumping my dick, which had grown absolutely enormous, the other kneading my breasts. The laugh track from some worn-out sitcom provided the only sound and all the maids were watching me in horror. My dick and Nineteen's nipples both seemed to grow and grow and then...

I was woken by a loud beeping sound penetrating my rubber hood. However, being awake made little difference, as I had no means of releasing myself. I lay still for a while, hoping that someone might free me.

I tried my voice to see if I could make a sound, and was rewarded with a dry croaking. With persistent effort I could just about wheeze a kind of whisper. With one of those amplifiers that throat cancer survivors sometimes use I might have been able to make myself heard.

After a time, another alarm sounded. I had no idea how long I waited after that. Then I heard the unmistakable voice of Housekeeper Four.

"Number Twenty Two, you are not up and properly dressed, yet the second alarm has sounded. You have earned another punishment. You are becoming quite the delinquent already. I would hate to have to make a case that you require special training," she opined.

I was angry and frustrated that I had earned a punishment this way. It wasn't my fault that I couldn't get up. It was perfectly obvious that I was strapped up and fastened down. How the hell could I get up and dressed? I also didn't like the idea that this suited the housekeeper's obvious agenda to have me put into 'special training', whatever that was.

Housekeeper Four ordered a maid to unfasten me. Once I was standing I thought she would tell me to dress. She didn't.

"Follow me Twenty Two, everyone is already waiting," she said coldly.

Dressed in just my underpanties and breast top I followed the housekeeper through the maze of corridors. I still had no idea where anything was. At least it was easier to walk without my boots on, though I felt very stiff and sore. Walking immediately made the balls of my feet ache again. The shocks to my nipples caused by my unsupported breasts bouncing around were almost enough to take my mind of it though.

I found myself in a dimly lit room with wooden panelled walls, soft carpeting and imposing polished wood furnishings. Light came from subdued uplighters in the wall. Sitting at a boardroom table were several uniformed figures.

Mistress Three and Nurse Five I recognised immediately. Two other figures were new to me. The receptionist was also there, in the role of secretary. She sat deferentially to the side with a notepad. She was wearing a soft black sweater, but I would swear I could still discern her big bullet shaped breasts beneath.

If my guess was correct, the two people I didn't recognise were numbers One and Two. My immediate worry was that if Number One was making an appearance then something pretty serious was going on. This did not bode well for me.

The first of the two unknowns was wearing a long black mermaid dress. Her hair was long, dark and straight, framing blazing cold blue eyes, painted on eyebrows and dark plum lipstick. She was a classic vamp beauty, both sinister and erotic at once. It was clear that a rather distinctive corset was hidden beneath her dress.

The second was a blonde with soft curls falling around her shoulders. She wore a simple, pale pink, rubber mini-dress that exposed ample cleavage. Her makeup was silver, and her eyes invisible, hiding behind small round mirrored glasses. For some reason I couldn't understand, though she looked the most 'ordinary' of the group, I feared her the most of all of them.

The blonde spoke. Her voice was soft, sultry, sensuous and kind. It embraced me, caressed me and possessed me like no other I have heard before, or since. All the time she spoke, the others remained as silent and as enraptured as I was.

"Good morning pretty maid. I am Number One. I wish to explain why you are here and why it is entirely my fault. It was my idea to test you when seeming mischance brought you here. It was also my suggestion to bring you into our employ based on those tests. The thing I most desperately want you to understand is that I did this for you," she said, so honestly that I believed her without a shade of doubt. She paused a moment, allowing me to understand, then continued.

"You may not realise that most who have come here have done so of their own accord, and at great effort and expense. It is not easy to gain acceptance into our world. Sadly, we must live in great secrecy. We must guard ourselves carefully, and we must be incredibly selective about who we admit."

"The cold, random world outside these walls does not look kindly on us, and we have many enemies. They never rest in searching for us, and we have scant means of defending ourselves should we be discovered."

"Before this place existed we had another little paradise, but things went wrong and it was destroyed," she hesitated. There was a profound sense of loss in her words, her voice catching at the end.

"I took a great risk by bringing you into our new creation, a risk based more on my intuition than on any solid foundation of fact and figure. I hope that by giving you the rare chance to join us I have not made an error that will plunge all we have worked for into utter chaos."

"Despite all your difficult behaviour, I do not think I was mistaken. You were born to join us, though you do not yet understand your destiny. We can coerce and condition you as much as we like, but that cannot force you to understand the gift you are being offered, though it may encourage your efforts to do so."

"Number Five believes that you are not ready for isolation yet. In fact she thinks that you may have a lot of work to do before you are ready," she paused once more, allowing everyone to take in all her words and cherish them.

"It was an error on the part of Number Three to assign the maid Nineteen to the task of tutoring you. It was also a mistake to announce that you would be punished in the isolation tank. Alas, several mistakes were made, and I must take responsibility for all of them. Collectively we failed both you and ourselves Number Twenty Two."

"Some of us struggle to understand how this may be: by our own pronouncement, ‘we’ do not make mistakes. We are reminded that individually we may often err, but collectively we do come closer to our goal. With your help we will take another step towards perfection."

"For this reason, your punishment, and that of Number Nineteen must be reconsidered. Tell us Twenty Two, where did we go wrong?" She left an abyss of silence when she stopped to wait for my answer.

I stared down at the floor, eyes averted. It was hard for me to focus my thoughts. I had thought there were so many things to say, but now I had nothing. I felt like an idiot. Here was my chance and I was throwing it away.

At last, I knew my answer. Somehow at that moment Number One knew my need and gestured for the receptionist to pass me her notepad. I wrote the only thing I could think of and passed it back.

I knew that I had to be insane at some level, but the words that I'd just heard had opened something inside me. I knew that whenever my head told me to reject my fate here, something else would draw me deeper. The two internal forces had been in conflict. For the moment my instinct worked to dig me in as deep and as fast as it could. At the same time, this did fit my conscious plan for public atonement, even if it worked against the idea of escape. With both forces acting in alignment, there was only one thing I could have written: 'Let me take on Nineteen's punishment as well as my own.'

The receptionist showed the pad to the others, who all nodded.

The divine Number One blessed me with a smile. I realised that I had fallen instantly in love with her, as all must do without exception or hope of escape.

"A perfect choice, and easy to understand. You know you made a mistake of your own with a consequence for others and now you wish to atone. When it is the right time for you to suffer that punishment, we will allow it. For now, your isolation must also be postponed, though not for too long. Do not be sad though, for you will assuredly receive the punishments that you deserve quite soon. For the rest of your training, the cane and simple discipline garments will suffice, as they have for girls more stubborn than you. I am sure that Number Four has some excellent ideas, so I will let her take you away."

She paused, and then said finally, "Be hopeful and work hard Number Twenty Two, not everyone here walks the same path, that is just an illusion."

I had the odd feeling that Number One had just told me something incredibly important. Unfortunately, she was as cryptic as she was beautiful. It was hard to understand why someone as naive and unearthly as her was running this place. Everything I had seen so far seemed like an invention of Mistress Three, or Housekeeper Four. Perhaps there was a lot I hadn't yet seen.

* * * * *

I followed Housekeeper Four from the room, and she led me back to the maids' quarters. On the way she filled me in on a few things she seemed to think I should know, or that it amused her to tell me.

"It's strange for Number One to interfere in routine. She has a special interest in you. This fact makes me sorry for you. You may not know it, but I am not often compassion... compassionate," she said with such deadpan delivery that I didn't know if she was joking with me or not.

"Consider your situation: you have earned twenty strokes of the cane that Nineteen earned. You will spend all your maid training - much longer that your induction period - in strict discipline rubber. The result: you will fail your maid skill tests resulting in many additional punishments. Worst of all, when you come out of isolation Mistress Three will be allowed to experiment on you in any way she chooses. Or had you forgotten that Nineteen was promised more than giant tits?"

"You are the most unfortunate novice. I have not known such punishments earned by one as junior as you. None of this will persuade me to go easy on you: it will be the opposite. To speak of that, you will receive five strokes of the cane for your late start this morning."

"I want to see you work hard from now on, no whining, shirking or misbehaving will be tolerated. You must show a good attitude. Number Nine is assigned to tutor you and she has strict instruction to accept no bad behaviour of any kind. If she has to ask you twice to do something, I will know of it," growled the housekeeper.

By the time she had finished threatening me in her slightly off kilter English, I was about as apprehensive as I could get about the future. I was destined for what were apparently gruesome punishments, but I had saved Nineteen, and I just might get out of this mess before the punishments caught up with me. As Number One had suggested, I kept hold of hope.

Back in the maid's quarters, my uniform was supplemented by the housekeeper. The results were both a dream and a nightmare. My beautiful glossy, overbust replacement corset had a pair of broad rubber straps that passed through my crotch, and locked in place. A key would be in the hands of maid Nine.

The corset also incorporated a strict shoulder harness that buckled to the front and back and swept up into a tall and uncomfortable collar. Between harness and collar my posture was prevented from slouching and any forward movement of the shoulders was difficult to achieve.

The shiny black collar was laced up at the back, and was for all practical purposes impossible for me to fit or remove without assistance. It was so tall and tight that I couldn't really turn my head left or right, and looking downwards was completely impossible.

The corset itself was longer, stiffer and much tighter than those I had endured before, and it was soon apparent that I would have great difficulty performing the least exertion, such as sitting down or getting up in it. This might have been acceptable, but for the addition of my new boots.

The boots ended in fully pointed ballet shoes. My toes were rigidly laced into a downward point and the heels were over seven inches without benefit of platform soles. They probably looked wonderful, but I knew from previous experience that the tiny flat spots that they offered me to walk on were completely insufficient to my needs.

Instead of my wig, the whole ensemble was finished off with a tight, thick, white rubber hood that gripped my head like a vice. The fastenings for the hood vanished beneath my collar, so there was no hope of removing it. Blinkers were moulded into the sides to further restrict my vision, as if the collar weren't enough.

I took consolation in the fact that I wasn't fitted with thick gloves, or perhaps mittens. At least I still had the complete use of my hands, apart from the problems the thin layer of my regular skin suit presented.

Despite the stern restrictions of my new clothing, I was filled with a powerful erotic charge that would not dissipate. As soon as I felt the straps pulled tight through my crotch and locked into place, I went into overdrive. My penis, trapped in the special underpanties and tightly pulled back was driving me to distraction. That I could not get to it seemed only to magnify my urge to do so.

It was a good thing the collar prevented me from looking down at my amazing boots with their long laced backs or I wouldn't have been able to keep from trying to peer at them.

Housekeeper Four left my new tutor maid Nine, in charge of me. She wasted little time with introductions. She took hold of my hand and began her instruction. She had a strong accent, and a thorough, but sometimes eccentric grasp of English.

"I am the maid Nine. Your job is to learn from me the basic maid skills. I am not so good in English as Nineteen so I will show and you will copy. There is no need for chitty-chatting. Understand?"

I nodded deferentially.

"Your exercise today it learning to walk properly as a maid. It is not acceptable for you to shuffle about in the ungainly fashion of a man. A maid must move with grace of the posture and smoothness. Most important, your bottom must move just so."

She demonstrated the walk that was expected of me. Her seductive steps, one foot in front of another, swung her hips and jiggled her tightly enclosed breasts. Her arms were held straight down, her hands out parallel to the floor.

She moved like a cartoon of liquid sex poured onto the floor and covered with rubber. She looked even sexier than Nineteen. Despite her five-inch heels, maid Nine moved effortlessly and with style. I envied her instantly. I knew as a man I would only ever look stupid walking like that, but it wasn't as if I had a choice, so I would try.

The problem was that even on my best day, with my ordinary shoes on, I wouldn't have been able to move anything like her. Handicapped as I was, I really doubted that I would even be able to stand, let alone walk. It was my considered opinion that I was screwed, possibly from both ends.

She took my hand and ordered, "Stand."

With her help I struggled to my feet. The weight of my breasts actually helped push my weight forward, which was where I needed it. Because of the pointed posture enforced by the stiff ankles of the boots, I had little ability at all to tip myself forward or backward below the knee. This meant that the only way I could approach a standing position was to stick my bottom out and my chest, my breasts, forward.

The rigid corset just made it harder. Not only did it prevent me bending my back to help my balance but it left me so little room for breathing, that even with the heaving chest technique I found it hard to get enough air. Any task that pressed me to exertion left me with a debt of oxygen that set my head spinning and required several seconds of controlled panting to recover.

For some reason, my continual breathlessness seemed to increase my arousal: an arousal that was absolutely impossible to resolve. I had only just begun my tasks and I was already at my wits' end. Imagining a whole day of this was almost enough to plunge me into despair.

Maid Nine barked her order again. "Stand!"

Had I been daydreaming?

The awful posture I was forced into not only made me look like a wanton slut, but was completely exhausting to hold even briefly. Still, it was the only position I dared take in which I felt that I could safely control my balance front and back.

"No," said Nine. "That is no good. You must stand straight. You must balance. You must learn to use the heel."

She let me hold onto her shoulder with one hand, and with the other she supported me so I didn't feel like I was about to fall backwards.

"Start walking. You will not be hurt falling," she ordered.

Of course, I hesitated. I was terrified. I felt sure that the first movement would send me toppling to the floor. I feared falling backward most of all.

Maid Nine didn't laugh. Instead, she smacked me sharply across the breast. Even through all the layers of rubber it was extremely painful. I gasped in pain.

"Move – or you are punished. Make serious effort or my temper will be lost," she demanded.

With my back held ramrod straight, I took my first faltering steps. I was moving! If I could just keep up with my feet, it would be fine. This was worse than learning to roller-skate, a lot worse.

The rest of the morning was spent just trying to learn to walk. I thought I had learned walking as a child, but Nine showed me how little I knew. I could never have imagined the number of components of Nine's movement that I would need to study. She taught me each detail individually as if they were a system she had learned. I don't think I managed to reproduce any of them properly.

By lunchtime, my nipples were very sore indeed; Nine would slap me hard at the least sign of error or if she decided I had a lack of motivation. It seemed only a matter of time before she would lose her temper completely, and I could no longer deny to myself that I was fearful of her.

Lunch was the same as the day before. As we sat down, I felt like I was starving. Housekeeper Four made a short speech about how privileged I had been to be allowed to volunteer to take Nineteen's punishments for her. Then we ate in complete silence.

The soup was identical, but I didn't get quite the same rush of warm complacent numbness from it this time. I felt bloated and overfull by the time I'd finished half my water. I knew I would be ravenously hungry again in a few hours time, but there seemed to be only one meal a day.

Once again I was the last to finish and was awarded another punishment for taking too long. Apparently, this wasn't strokes of the cane, but something different. Housekeeper Four took me to Mistress Three herself, and I knew I was in terrible trouble.

For some reason, I couldn't help crying like a girl. I did feel bad for letting everyone down again, especially Housekeeper Four who clearly had better things to do than drag me back and forth from punishments, but I couldn't understand why this would bring me to tears.

I was still sobbing when I stumbled over on the way to Mistress Three's, falling on my tits which administered a terrible shock. Housekeeper Four went berserk at me. She screamed and ranted at me as I struggled to get up. I thought she was going to hit me. Instead she wrenched me to my feet by the straps of my shoulder harness.

She pulled me frighteningly close to her and screamed a tirade of harsh German full into my face. Each word made me flinch.

"I will not have you playing martyr and looking for attention like a spoiled brat! You will learn to walk properly in those boots if you must spend the rest of your life in them, which you may. Do you understand?"

I quivered like a leaf, trying as hard as I could to stop crying and act like a man. For some reason I couldn't do it.

"Yes Housekeeper," I tried to whisper. I don't think she heard me.

She picked me up like a toy and threw me over her shoulder. Like a sack of potatoes I was delivered to Mistress Three's clinic, still trying to choke back sobs.

I was dumped unceremoniously onto the examination table. I probably looked a mess, with a face red as a beetroot. I tried my best to get a grip on myself.

Housekeeper Four strapped me in place while she waited for Mistress Three, who soon appeared.

"Good day Lehrerin," said the housekeeper in German. "I have brought the useless novice for her injections and blood donation."

I took comfort in the fact that she didn't mention punishment at all. Perhaps this was simple routine?

Mistress Three performed a quick exam and then prepared me to give blood. This was something I'd done in the past, and I recognised the preparations easily. She soon had the process in motion, and my arm began to feel numb. I knew that I often felt unsteady after giving blood, and I began to fear what might happen when I had to get off the examining table.

It was an ominous process as it worried me that I might find myself under Mistress Three's knife sooner rather than later. I had time to think about it: they would need several pints to do a serious operation on me, so if they intended to use my own blood, I was safe for the moment.

While I lay helplessly strapped to the examination table, Mistress Three administered several injections then informed me that I was to return after lunchtime every day for repeats. I had no idea what they were for. Maybe they were vitamin supplements to make up for the lack of food. Maybe they were drugs to keep me sedated and stupid. I had no idea.

To my surprise, Mistress Three and the Housekeeper Four left the room together, leaving me strapped to the table. Given this circumstance, I expected Nine to come and collect me.

I found myself waiting for a long time. I was bored and I was starting to feel horny again. I squirmed against my bonds, but the only pleasure I could get was from squeezing my nipples against the confinement of my corset cups. It was just enough to keep me hot, bothered and frustrated.

After what seemed like an age, Nurse Five appeared, looking very pleased with herself.

"Guten Tag, gegenstand Zweiundzwanzig," she said as she entered, or something like it. My German designation was even more dehumanising than in English and I had not expected to hear it from her. She paused a moment then added, "Hello, Number Twenty Two."

She continued, "I trust you are well? Hmm? Still quiet I see. Is your voice returning?"

I nodded.

"First, an apology: it was very wrong of me to touch you in a sexual way yesterday. If you prefer I will never touch you in that way again. Nod twice if that is what you would prefer," she said earnestly. "You have complete freedom to answer this as you choose. There will be no punishment for a wrong answer."

I kept very still. I very much wanted some sexual touching from Nurse Five, even if it could sometimes be ... invasive.

"Right, to confirm: if in your own mind you are completely willing for me to stimulate you sexually, in whatever way I choose, nod four times now," she said in a businesslike manner. “But you must understand that I can’t give you permission to cum at this time,” she adds.

I nodded four times, carefully, so there could be no confusion. I knew that the terms of this contract were all in her favour, but I didn't care.

"Good. I have just the thing for you then," she said, producing a black rubber device with tubes and straps coming off it.

"We call this an inflatable butterfly gag trainer. It will ensure that you don't say anything you might regret later. After all, a good maid should be seen and not heard. It also has a tube you can use for breathing and drinking," she demonstrated this by waggling the tube and smiling, as if it were amusing.

"It will restrict your breathing even further, and it's particularly uncomfortable to wear for any length of time, but you are being punished, so that's fair isn't it?" She asked.

I had no reply.

"I expect instant agreement from you – my pretty little maid," said the nurse with a warning tone to her voice.

I nodded furiously.

"So, do you want your gag? You know it's for the best." She asked.

I was confused, was I supposed to agree instantly, or could I choose? I hesitated.

"You don't want it? I suppose I'll just have to leave you here on the table until you change your mind," she said, disappointed.

I shook my head.

"Oh, so you do want it?"

I nodded vigorously.

"Yes, that's right. Good girl. So open up nice and wide now and I'll just pop this in," she said brightly.

I didn't see the cheery side of it. Just when I had begun to hope I might be able to speak soon, maybe tomorrow, it looked like my dreams were to be crushed. I fought back tears again; it was all so horribly unfair. When would I be allowed to explain this was all an awful mistake?

What was wrong with me? They had stuck me in a skirt but that didn't mean I had to cry like a girl at the most minor setback. The housekeeper was right to accuse me of attention seeking: the frequent tears were hard to construe as anything else.

Dejectedly I opened my mouth open wide and she forced the gag in. First one rubber 'wing' pushed into my cheek on the left side, then the other one. The body of the gag fit between my teeth, holding my mouth open, though my lips were partially closed over the front of it.

A pair of straps reached up to join above my nose, forming a single strap that went over the top of my head. Another strap was pulled tight under my chin. The two main straps came from the sides and were fastened behind my neck, where the head strap joined on to them. This elaborate contraption made it impossible for the rubber ‘wings’ to pop out of my mouth.

I wheezed through the breathing tube as Nurse Five used the other attached tube and a small bulb-pump to inflate the gag. I felt the thick rubber ballooning inside my mouth. Suddenly frightened, I pushed my tongue underneath it before the swelling gag forced it back to choke me.

Nurse Five squeezed my jaw to check the tightness before sealing off the inflation tube and removing it. The extended rubber front sitting tightly between my teeth and my lips formed a tight seal, while the inflated part inside my mouth filled it completely, stretching my cheeks and my jaw within the straps. So far it was merely uncomfortable, but I suspected it would soon start to feel worse.

The sensation of rubber enclosure had edged up a notch and I was really starting to feel it. The addition of the tight hood earlier had made a big difference to the way I felt, though I didn't notice it immediately. Now my head felt totally encased and filled with rubber.

Because my arms and hands were only covered in the thin skin suit, they felt strangely bared and divorced from the rest of me. I was almost hoping that they would force me into tight, heavy gloves to complete my feeling of containment in the rubber world.

"You need a little something to pick you up after giving blood, so I'll just pop your tube in this," said the nurse.

She held a beaker of some liquid next to my head and hooked the breathing tube from my gag into it. Now I could breathe only through my nose until I emptied the beaker. I sucked it up as quickly as I could.

"Drink up quickly. You'll receive all your meals this way now, so the practice will be good for you," smiled Nurse Five, playfully stroking my breasts.

A pleasant, fuzzy tingle shot through my nipples. Had I heard that right? All my meals?

I couldn't taste anything of whatever I was drinking. It could have been almost anything. I think it was more of the soup I had received before, but I had only the faintest rubber tainted scent of it to go by. Once I had sucked it all up, she gave me some water to drink, which helped clean out the inside of the tube. I felt very full by the end of it, though I think I had consumed hardly anything.

Nurse Five gave my cheeks a squeeze and playfully tweaked my nipples again. I thought that if I were loose I'd like to give her a good tweaking: she had set my blood pumping in her rubber nurse's uniform.

"I have several more treats for your today. You might think that some of them are more like punishments, but that's just because you are still a bit confused," grinned the latex nurse.

She held a large black rubber plug in front of my face. A tube dangled from it with a pump-bulb attachment. I'd seen one of these things in the rubber porn I'd watched earlier. I couldn't believe that she expected she would be able to get something so big inside me.

She unlocked the crotch strap of my corset and pulled my outer, ruffled panties halfway down my thighs. When she unlocked and unfastened my underpanties, she left me in no doubt as to where she intended to insert the plug. I clenched my sphincter in revolted anticipation.

She slathered a handful of lubricant gel over the plug so it glistened wetly and then I felt it press against my sphincter. I really didn't want it in there.

My resistance was ineffectual and the well-lubricated point squeezed in anyway. At first when it pushed inside me it was painful, but I stopped struggling once I knew I was defeated and it slid in the rest of the way easily. I felt ashamed that I had given in with so little struggle.

It felt big, but once I was over the initial discomfort it no longer hurt me. However, Nurse Five immediately began to pump it up, and to my chagrin, I found myself enjoying it more than I had expected. With each squeeze I wanted to moan, but my mouth was perfectly plugged. This just served to enflame my arousal further.

It was gently pressing on my prostate and giving me a thrill I didn't want; if I didn't want it, why did I seem to enjoy it? My only hope was that I would be able to cum and get some relief. Once I had cum I would no longer want the horrid thing anywhere near me.

I had no such luck, and once it had grown unreasonably large and distracting inside me, the latex nurse simply pulled my outer panties back up and strapped my crotch straps back in place, pulling them tighter than ever.

I was stuck with the tantalisingly full sensation indefinitely. I felt my orgasm subsiding back down to the point where I could think of nothing else but could go no further than thinking.

I couldn't believe that the wonderful feeling of tight compression that surrounded and penetrated me had been increased. There was now rubber stretching both my orifices and I felt completely consumed by it. I never wanted it to stop, and yet I hated to be at its mercy.

The tube of the plug dangled down between my legs, still attached. Everyone would be able to see it there, hanging out of the bottom of my petticoats. Everyone would know what I had lodged inside me. They would all be laughing themselves silly at my expense. I imagined them looking at me, and thinking I wanted it that way. It would be a wretched humiliation.

"This next part is hard work for me, so I am going to want a reward later. Would you like to do something for me in return?" Asked Nurse Five. "Nod if you would."

I knew better than not to nod. I gave her my best, overeager, can-do nod. She smiled deliciously. Perhaps she had something in mind that I really would enjoy? So far, her idea of enjoyment was sending me mad with unfulfilled desire.

She used surgical scissors to carefully remove five small sections from each of my skin suit gloves, where they covered my fingernails. She meticulously prepared the exposed nails and, one by one, attached large fake nails manufactured from some sort of hard plastic. They looked enormous, and made my fingers look very long and delicate.

"It should go without saying that beautiful nails like these are a privilege, not a punishment. I want you to take good care of them. They're very strong, so you would probably hurt yourself before breaking them. But, if I find you have chipped or scratched the polish, and not repaired it to my satisfaction, I will have to paddle your behind in front of the other maids until everyone is convinced you've learned your lesson," warned Nurse Five.

I had plenty of time to think about what she was doing while she attached the nails, and had already formed a dread of any task that might require my manual dexterity: my hands now looked exotically sexy, but the nails represented a considerable handicap and liability.

I felt certain that no allowance would be made for my encumbered status. If past events were anything to go by, they would probably find some task for me that especially relied on my manual dexterity.

They also looked quite dangerous. If I wasn't careful they'd have my eye out, and I felt sure that if I so much as accidentally scratched another maid with them I would certainly suffer some disproportionate, drawn-out punishment that increased my helplessness by another order.

While she worked, Nurse Five drip-fed me a little information. I confess I was eager for more. It was only natural that I was curious about the hotel and its inhabitants: a little knowledge might help me escape.

"You might not believe it, but I'm not really a manicurist by trade," she quipped. "I was once a very successful plastic surgeon in New York. As you can see, I am now charged with simpler tasks. That doesn't mean that I take them lightly. The opposite in fact, I like to give even the smallest task my complete attention.

"Don't you agree that latex nurses are the most sexy thing ever?" She enthused.

I nodded eagerly of course. I wouldn't dare argue, but I was inclined to agree with her. The only latex nurse I knew of had my penis straining against its painful rubber confinement without cease. Even though it hurt me, I was still trying to get hard. My head was buzzing with arousal. I bore down on the plug inside me, but I couldn't get off on it.

"I much prefer to be a kinky rubber nurse than a boring old doctor. I have my dream and I don't need other things that will only make me unhappy. When I worked for money, I did everything for the wrong reasons, and the end result was I didn't do any of it properly.

"I've asked for permission to show you some of the things that happen here, and I really hope you will make the best of this chance. It's important to embrace everything you are offered. It's all part of your life now, and you don't have the option to refuse any of it, so trying to resist will just make you sad.

"I think you already deliciously attractive and sexy. With the right attitude on your part, and a little work from myself and Mistress Three, you will be the most perfect cute little thing.

"I see from your eyes you don't believe me, but it's true. You have the ideal build, long legs, long neck, and your shoulders are narrow. When you loose a little muscle you will see. Your skin will be lovely too, but that doesn't matter: it's not as if anyone is ever going to see that.

She proceeded to apply various colours and lacquers to the nails until she finally declared them complete. 'My' nails were now a deep pearlescent black and extended a good half-inch beyond the end of my finger. I used to have wet dreams about fingernails like that on a woman's hand wrapped around my cock. It seemed overwhelmingly wrong that the hand might now be my own.

The hands didn't look like my own though. It was as if every single part of me had finally disappeared. There wasn't any of 'me' left, just a rubber doll that the hotel had made. The few parts of me that I could see weren't recognisable as me at all. The rest, that I had not been shown, I knew to be no better: whether I liked it or not, I was now somebody else. How should that person behave?

"Your nails just need a little while to dry properly. I have a task elsewhere that can't wait, but I will be back in a moment," she said, already half way through the door.

Whatever it was she was up to, it took longer than a moment. I found myself half dozing, adrift in a sexual haze and daydreaming of the luscious nurse rubbing her nipples against mine.

I was brought back to reality by the sound of a conversation in German. I could see the person I had assumed to be Number Two framed in profile through a doorway. The shape her unique corset gave her body was unforgettable. The first voice was hers. The other I recognised as Mistress Three's.

"Most of her pets are away right now. They can't return until the roads are cleared, and when they do come back they will come one by one, not as a group," said Number Two.

"You're right, this is our best chance. It will only get more risky if we wait," Mistress Three nervously agreed.

"My plan to deal with the one that remains is going smoothly," said Number Two, and unbelievably Mistress Three interrupted her.

"Look. The monitor: she's in the corridor now," warned Mistress Three lowering her voice.

With that alarm, Number Two wriggled her hips and vanished out of sight. I presumed that Mistress Three also hurried off. A short time later I heard the distinctive clip of Nurse Five's heels approaching. She was carrying a dog lead and looked pleased with herself, as always.

"Did you have a nice rest? Mmm. I hope so. Time for you to be up and about now," she said, already unfastening me from the table.

She helped me to the floor, making use of the opportunity to fondle my behind. I was glad she still seemed to like me after the unfortunate business with Nineteen. I longed for anything that would make me feel less isolated.

"Follow me, we have an appointment in the black playroom," she said as she clipped the lead to the front of my collar.

I had no choice but to keep up with her pace as she dragged me through the hallways and into a lift. It was a miracle that I didn't stumble. The inflation bulb for the butt-plug bumped against my thighs, reminding me of the humiliation associated with it.

"This elevator is the only way to get down to where we're headed," she said mysteriously as the doors closed.

I counted to forty before I felt the lift stop moving, but that didn't mean much, maybe the lift was just slow. A few seconds later the doors opened onto a dramatic view.

 

 

10.06.10

story continued in Part 5: The Mysterious Nymph of the Rubber Garden

o0o

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