Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Doll Hotel 5: The Mysterious Nymph of the Rubber Garden

by AmyAmy

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© Copyright 2010 - AmyAmy - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/m; latex; corset; maid; fem; cd; bdsm; training; enema; oral; toys; cons/reluct; XX

continued from part 4


Chapter 5: The Mysterious Nymph of the Rubber Garden

'The black playroom' was an understated name for what lay before me. I couldn't tell how big the room was because it was dark, but it seemed like an entire floor. The scale of the place made it more like a garden than a room. It soon became obvious that was what it was supposed to resemble.

Everything I could see was either made from, or covered with, polished black rubber. Partitions of stretched rubber sheeting were perforated with seemingly random holes of widely varying sizes that offered tantalising views into other deeper areas. Bondage frames and hanging restraints formed 'trees' and 'vines'.

Light came from a trail of dim rope-lights embedded flush in the floor. Somewhere in the distance I thought I could see something large festooned with coils of additional rope-lights. It was so dark that both Nurse Five and myself had to stand in front of the lift doors for some time before our eyes adjusted enough to move further in.

Following the dimly illuminated path marked out on the floor we started to descend a gentle slope down into the heart of the garden. Spherical cages hung from the ceiling, along with ropes, tubes and all kinds of mysterious piping. The sensation of moving through a kind of forest was disorienting but inescapable.

We came to a kind of pool: an enigmatic black mirror. For a moment I thought it was liquid latex, but it was just ordinary water. It felt like we were in an artificial clearing in the dense synthetic forest of rubber construction.

A light faded up within the pool causing it to glow gently from within. Reflected ripples flowed across the smooth black ceiling above. A figure formed from seamless rubber was emerging from the pool.

Water beaded and flowed down her perfect, glistening rubber skin. She was breathtaking: flawless, an anatomically perfect creation in black latex. Inscrutable black lenses blended seamlessly into where her eye sockets ought to be. Prominent nipples stood out from gravity defying breasts, perfectly coated in the black second skin. If there was a zip, I couldn't see it.

I realised she had no mouth; she could not speak, or would not speak. Nevertheless, her gestures were as orders to us. Both Nurse Five and I responded instinctively to this faceless goddess.

The nurse shed her uniform; unfastening it and letting it drop to the floor. Her own breasts were a sight to behold: large and rounded, obviously augmented by surgery, but no less hypnotic for it. Their soft jiggle held me spellbound.

It was my task to assist Nurse Five into a savagely tight cat suit with attached feet, hands and hood. There was a zip at the back, though it only reached down to the base of the spine.

Nurse Five, or as she seemed to be now, simply Five, quietly whispered a warning to me to be careful that my long nails did not penetrate the suit.

Plugged as I was, firmly sealed in both mouth and ass, I worked slowly. Each movement was a sensual torture, each breath had to be fought for, and there was simply no way I dare exert myself or I would grow dizzy and tumble from my tortuous ballet heels in an instant.

As well as a delight, this journey felt like a test, and for once every cell of my body was striving to perform as perfectly and gracefully as possible. The stress was enormous. The sexual tension mounted inexorably, and I wasn't even being actively stimulated. I was consumed with lust for everything around me.

Five smothered herself in a lubricant liquid to help squeeze into the incredibly tight suit. With my help she was able to get it up around her waist and in place. I thought it would be easy from then on, but the arms were exhaustingly difficult to get on without ending up twisted. In the end we got it settled so that she was comfortable.

It took all my efforts, and more slippery lubricant to get her arms into the sleeves of the suit. Her hands slipped into smooth, fingerless and thumbless bondage mittens that made her hands into completely useless flippers.

It took the assistance of the silent goddess to stretch the unzipped hood over Five's head; a task made considerably more difficult by my long sharp nails: they made it impossible for me to grip the rubber with my fingertips.

At last it was time for me to pull the zipper up her back, sealing her inside. She was now blind because the hood's only opening was for her mouth.

As for myself, I was hot and sweating profusely inside my tight uniform. Water was pooling in my boots and it felt like my skin was swelling and dissolving underneath. I knew I would have a whole new set of awful blisters when I undressed.

With only my nose and the tube in the gag to breathe through, I was constantly aware of how limited my actions were, and I was forced to pause for breath increasingly often.

My next task was to fit the rubber encased Five with a tight, waist cinching underbust corset of heavy black rubber. It was a single piece corset that required her to be laced into it from scratch. I had to slow down and calm myself to avoid a panic when I realised how difficult the lace was to thread with my new nails.

The plug in my bottom was working me into a frenzy, but the design of my underpanties prevented any stimulation to the head of my cock. With just a touch I would have cum, but as things stood it was impossible. I wanted to sit down and wriggle on something unyielding: perhaps I could push the plug into me hard enough to stimulate an orgasm.

If the plug hadn't been pumped so full I could have relaxed my bottom to let it slide out a little, then tensed it again to squeeze it back in, but it was so huge that there was simply no way for me to relax further. The feeling of being split open from within was ever present and ever pressing on my subconscious.

Once the corset was tightly laced and Five was gasping for breath through that pretty mouth, I realised that I had two very thick and heavy thigh-high ballet boots to lace on to her. I knew from my own boots that she would experience considerable pain if she tried to bend her legs much in these, with the thick rubber pinching at, and digging into, the back of her knees.

It seemed like the two figures must have waited forever while I completed my slow, clumsy ministrations with the handicap of my long, sharp, beautiful black nails. Eventually, it was done. I paused breathless only to find my horniness rushing up to overwhelm my thoughts.

Five whispered to me, "You can leave now if you wish. There is no punishment for doing so, but if you choose to stay you must obey without hesitation."

I was determined to stay. The sight of Five, blind, her hands useless and her feet in the treacherous boots was doing crazy things to me. I couldn't stop imagining myself in her place. I wished I could be her, but to be close would be ... enough.

"Quickly, leave now if you do not wish to be part of this game," said Five.

I remained where I was. I didn't know what would be required of me, but I was prepared to do almost anything for these beautiful, seductive women.

The goddess of the pool pushed Five down on her back and straddled her face. She massaged Five's breasts with hands whose own long nails merged seamlessly into her fingers: black rubber coated like the rest of her.

She gestured for me to come closer. I didn't know what to expect. I was surprised when she removed the breathing tube from my gag and attached a huge, black rubber dildo to my face. It had a realistic penis shape, and it now appeared to protrude from my mouth.

My task was obviously to pleasure Five with my face while the mystery figure rode her for her own satisfaction. My hopes of getting my cock inside her were dashed for the moment. I would have liked to fondle Five's breasts, now so tightly encased in her suit. The chance to kiss her and taste her would have been a sensuous delight.

The crotch of Five's suit was formed into a large pair of soft pussy lips. When I'd first seen such a thing, I'd thought it bizarre and ugly. Now I felt myself thrilling at the idea that something so overtly sexual could exist, even if it wasn't real. I caught myself wishing that they were real, perhaps even that they were mine.

When I pressed my dildo face against them, I found there was an opening beneath that revealed the real thing. The stink of her red, swollen pussy was detectable even before I got close. She was dripping, and a trickle of fluid had emerged from the soft rubber folds and was running down the inside of her leg.

As soon as I plunged myself into her, my face was covered with her free-flowing juices. I was careful, because I only had my nose to breathe through, but the scent of her got everywhere. The smell seemed to get inside me as if it had crossed the rubber barrier that defined me and was diffusing into my whole being.

I had to position my head at a particular angle, as my collar strictly limited what I could do with my neck, and my corset and shoulder harness prevented any significant movement of my back. Fortunately, the spot had been well chosen, and her bottom rested on a step, allowing me to kneel and service her if I spread my knees apart and sat kneeling with my rubberised bottom squeezed between my heels.

The advantage of my position was that it allowed me to put pressure on my butt-plug and though it was beneath several layers of rubber, and my ruffled panties, I could feel the benefit. At first I thought I would be able to cum quickly, but after the initial rush of progress it turned out to be more difficult than I had hoped.

I now floated at a new level of arousal but I seethed with frustration as I realised I needed much more stimulation to move to the next stage. By determined grinding of my bottom into the rubber floor I could maintain my near trance state of desire, but could not get myself over the edge. I could feel that the release I so desperately desired was still out of my reach.

I tried to push myself higher by imagining the sight of myself as a sexy rubber maid, plunging the huge dildo attached to my gag into the tightly wrapped, almost helpless, Five.

I kept working on Five, and was beginning to be grateful for the tight restrictive collar, which was taking a lot of strain off my neck. I'd been hot and sweating before, but now I was overheating from the sustained exertion. The rivers of sweat running under the surface of my suit made me squirm. The stick and the sudden release of the rubber material as it moved over my skin intensified my sensation of rubber encasement.

Five was now pushing back against the dildo, and really feeling it. She still wasn't anywhere near ready to cum. The dark figure from the pool was grinding down hard onto her face. I wondered how she could breathe under there, with her nose sealed. Her confined rubber world was as complete as mine, but in a different way.

I returned to imagining myself in her position, the tight rubber squeezing my breasts as the unknown figure massaged them. I couldn't concentrate to make the vision complete; the fearsome engine of my erotic frustration wouldn't let me think of much besides grinding my bottom on the floor. The remainder of my attention was devoted to pumping my face in and out of Five's slippery pussy: a task I dare not falter at.

Eventually, the faceless woman bucked and spasmed in her own silent orgasm. It was impossible to mistake the throes of her passion as she dug her fingers hard into Five's breasts. I thought she would be done in a few moments, but her climax seemed to drag on for minutes. It lasted far beyond anything I had seen before in any woman.

I was then permitted to bring Five to climax. Or rather she cruelly used me as a helpless sex toy, leaving me little say in the matter.

She pushed me over backwards, so I was doubled up painfully, my body trapped between my doubled up legs. My arms were pinned beneath her as she rode my face to her satisfaction. I'm not sure if I blacked out from lack of air - perhaps I just came close to it.

Afterwards, I lay dizzy and confused, unable to lift myself up. I didn't have the strength in my arms or legs to raise myself up from my prone position due to the stiff corset restricting my movement and my shortness of breath. When the silent goddess removed the dildo from my face, and once I was able to breathe through my mouth again I felt strong enough to get up.

Once I was standing, she reached from behind me and replaced my breathing tube, which limited the air to my mouth, though not as much as the dildo, which had allowed nothing. By the time I had control of my breathing again the mystery woman had already vanished, and apparently had no interest in further events.

It must have been easy for her to leave without me noticing, as my blinkers and collar limited my vision to a narrow cone in front of me. The hood also muffled my hearing, so I couldn’t even hear her footsteps. If I wanted to look around me, I had to slowly shuffle in a circle, and I had already learned that it was best not to do this unless instructed to do so.

I now had to help Five undress. She bathed in the pool and then replaced her nurses' uniform. Without further comment she grabbed hold of my leash and led me back to the lift.

When we re-entered the upper levels, Nine was waiting for us. Five handed my leash to her without a word and left. I didn't know how to take Five's silence. Had I done something wrong? I wasn't being punished, but perhaps that would come later. I began to feel nervous.

Nine led me into what looked like a sort of gym or exercise room. My poor crushed toes were already aching again. After a brief pause to assess the state of the room, she guided me onto a treadmill and hooked two metal cables to my corset's shoulder harness, one on each side. She adjusted these so that I had just a couple of inches slack. Then she started the treadmill.

I was still hot and sweaty from my earlier exertions, and the effort of walking wouldn't let me cool down. The inside of my suit just seemed to get hotter and hotter.

Balancing on the shoes was hard enough, and sustained walking was painful and exhausting. With the plug in my bottom continually arousing me, I was feeling another kind of flush as well.

That huge, inflated intruder forced me to walk according to its rules rather than my own, and Nine also had expectations. Whenever I failed to walk the way I was 'supposed' to, she would slap me smartly with a flexible riding crop.

It seemed that Nine particularly encouraged any movement of my behind that made it, and the intrusive plug, wiggle from side to side. It quickly went from being pleasant to being frustrating as I was forced to continually stimulate myself with no hope of release.

If it hadn't been for the pain in my feet, I wouldn't have been able to think of anything besides the relentless teasing of the plug inside me. I hardly seemed to notice Nine's blows, though they did sting severely.

Sometimes she would catch me by surprise in a way that made me jump and try to yelp into my gag, but most of the time I responded to her encouragement almost unconsciously: changing my gait without really thinking about it.

I was so horny and my feet were just so sore that I couldn't be bothered to pay much attention to her.

I stumbled many times. The stiff boots protected my tired ankles from injury and the cables wouldn't let me fall. Each time Nine would stop and restart the treadmill, allowing me a chance to recover. Each time she would announce that I had earned another stoke of the cane while beating vigorously at my thighs with her crop.

She didn't hurt me much as I had my skin suit, my stockings and my thick boots to protect me there. I knew when she was really angry because she would strike at my arms, which were only covered by the thin, stretchy skin suit. It provided almost no protection at all, and she could really hurt me.

Her targets of last resort were my breasts. Even though they were covered by the heavy rubber of the corset, and by my dress, a well-aimed blow could deliver a terrible shock. Without considering it, I tended to raise my arms to protect myself whenever I thought I had upset her. This would just make her angrier and my arms and nipples would receive a severe beating.

Somewhere during this process I reached the point where the pain was making me weep continually. I couldn't breathe properly and felt dizzy all the time. I started to accrue punishments faster and faster. I knew Nine was angry with me and I felt terribly sad and guilty at failing so badly.

By the time Nine decided that I could take no more of this 'exercise', I was sore all over. My arms were covered with red welts and my nipples seemed to continually tingle of their own accord. My feet were complete agony, with my toes all jammed painfully together, waterlogged with sweat and burning from what I assumed were blisters.

My eyes and nose was sore from crying and I kept blinking, trying to clear my bleary eyes. I felt like a mess. My penis hurt too, and there no longer seemed to be anything sexy about what was happening to me.

Nine removed the supporting cables and put her arm around me to guide me to a seat. We sank down into the soft, rubber covered sofa. I sagged with exhaustion.

Nine began to gently stroke by hood-enveloped head, and I relaxed into her lap. The heat between us was astonishing. I realised that she had been working hard just to punish me. I was surprised that she was now tenderly hugging and soothing me.

"Rest now. That's a good girl. Rest. You have done your best this afternoon. You must sleep well and try harder tomorrow. Make maid Nine proud yes?" She said in a kindly tone.

After I had regained a grip on myself, she gave me more water to drink and then took me to the maid's quarters. After a short wait, Housekeeper Four arrived to administer the day's punishments.

I was filled with dread. I knew I had a caning promised to me. Would there be anything else? What about all the things I might have done wrong that hadn't been mentioned? What about Nurse Five's silence? Would anyone else be punished, or would I be first?

I felt myself trembling as all the maids stood silently waiting for Housekeeper Four to speak. I held my breath. She took her time, her gaze slowly sweeping the room, assessing each maid individually. Had any of them done something wrong? As the suspense peaked and I felt myself go dizzy, finally she spoke. I gasped a quick mouthful of air.

"Attention all maids. The novice Twenty Two will now be punished by caning," said the housekeeper.

Some of the maids stepped forward and yanked down my panties before strapping me to the horse for my caning. I hadn't prepared myself for this, and it was a shock to be suddenly grabbed and bound.

I was now terrified at the thought of the number of strokes I had earned. A mere ten strokes the night before had reduced me to a sobbing, wretched ball of pain, and scared me witless. My bottom was still burning from that treatment.

"She has earned twenty strokes of the cane by asking to receive Nineteen's punishment from the previous day," said Housekeeper Four.

Some of the maids attempted to suppress gasps.

"In addition she earned ten strokes of the cane for a failure to get up and dressed in time. She then earned five strokes of the cane for failure to finish her meal in time. She has made a shocking display of laziness," continued the housekeeper.

There was a very quiet ripple of ooohs from the crowd of watching maids.

"And she has since earned a total of fourteen strokes of the cane for falling over like a clumsy imbecile all the time... Shut up you stupid maids! This is not a carnival show!" Yelled Housekeeper Four as the maids gasped again.

I was trying to add the total up in my head, but I couldn't do it. I was in a state of complete panic. I think I might have soiled myself if I wasn't so firmly plugged up the bottom.

Then she completely surprised me.

She leaned down close and whispered very quietly in my ear:

"Twenty Two, you have earned forty-nine strokes. You may not understand, but that sort of punishment is not usual here. It is a severe punishment. It will have a profound effect on you. We have agreed that we will not force such a thing on a novice who isn't ready to properly commit to us. If you want to give up now and leave the maids we will forget your debt: all of this will be as if it never happened.

"I will give you ten seconds to decide. Shake your head vigorously if you wish to take your punishment and stay with us, or do nothing if you wish to leave and go back to your normal life," she hissed.

Thinking about this later, it was clearly a speech she had prepared in advance, or someone had written it for her. At the time all I could think about was my chance to escape. I had ten seconds. They were going fast. I realised I'd already made my decision this morning.

I quickly started to shake my head, desperately hoping the ten seconds had not expired, and a small part of me hoping that they had. All the maids saw was me shaking my head, apparently in fear. They probably assumed that the housekeeper had said something horrible to me.

"That is a total of forty nine strokes. For reasons of practicality, I will administer them to her body as I see fit, and not all to her bottom. She will not be required to count her strokes, as she is already under gag punishment.

"All of you chattering maids pay attention and see what happens to those who are lazy, shirk their tasks or act disobediently. I don't want to have to punish a crowd of you," she announced to the crowd.

The maids were clearly agitated. Having seen twenty strokes administered before, I understood their concern. It would be an extremely harsh punishment. I would have wondered how I would take it, except I knew that it was simple: I had no further choice in the matter. I was bound in place, plugged and gagged. I was completely helpless and at Housekeeper Four's mercy. I would not complain, for I could not do so. No action was required on my part but to experience as much pain as she chose to administer.

The first few strokes fell on my behind. They stung not hot, but so coldly that I thought I was bleeding. Further strokes fell on my back, where the thick corset offered some protection. Then my sides, followed by the fat of my upper arms. The last strikes were the worst.

My vision seemed to narrow, strokes kept falling, extending to my legs. I felt as if I was spinning, or the room were spinning. Everything was moving out of control, and yet I was motionless. I was completely stunned. I couldn't breathe, or think, or see. I didn't so much feel pain as a kind of inability to control the functions of my body. It seemed to wrench and spasm completely outside of my control.

I felt strangely detached from everything, drifting down a darkening tunnel. Someone was being beaten, feeling terrible pain. I didn't know who it was. It seemed to be going on for a long time.

When I came to, I was on my back with my gag removed. I writhed in agony: my whole body was a searing mass of pain. The movement made it worse and I threw up. It was little more than a clear puddle of mucus and water that made me cough and choke. It hurt less if I stayed still, so I did.

Housekeeper Four fed me a little water from a cup with a drinking tube. After that she gave orders for me to be washed, cleaned out, rubbed with ointment and put to bed. She gave some additional instructions, but I wasn't really listening.

Soon I found myself being dragged through the same ritual as the night before. The pain was intense and showed no signs of abating. My ribs felt bruised or broken and every fleshy part of my arms, legs and bottom was a searing fire. I took solace in the fact that my gag wasn't replaced. At least I could weep with the pain and still get to breathe.

I was stripped, showered and given an enema, much as if I were comatose. I felt like I was. The Housekeeper removed my breasts and underpanties, and I was lowered into a sweet smelling bath. There was my chance to touch my penis. I didn't even have the strength to move, let alone the will to invite further punishment.

I had thought I had been in pain when I came off the treadmill, but I now realised that I hadn't been hurting at all. What I felt now was real pain. I couldn't decide if the hot water was making it better or worse.

After I was removed from the water, two maids massaged a foul smelling orange ointment into my skin, missing no part of my body. I hoped it would make me feel better, but it didn't. In fact, it seemed to be making me feel worse. The burning sensation continued to increase. I shivered feverishly. Gel patches were applied to my blisters, melting into my skin.

My legs were rudely spread, and then the butt-plug reinserted and re-inflated. I was then taken to my bed where I was covered in the sheet. This time there was no tight strap-on dress, and no hood. Instead the sheet was pulled up to cover me completely. A mouthpiece like a diver's snorkel was pressed into my mouth and then I felt a vibration and a humming noise.

The sheet sucked down tight against me. I felt its grip grow tighter and heavier until I thought I could bear no more. The humming stopped, and the sheet remained in place. I was stuck down in place by the tight grip of the sheet. I couldn't move a muscle.

It was a strange and new sensation. If I hadn't been so sore I might have relished it. The pressure was almost even, all over my body. I felt as if I was being squeezed in on myself – made smaller in every aspect. I was completely unable to move at all, not even the slightest wriggle. I could strain my muscles as much as I liked, nothing was happening.

I began to panic. I had never felt claustrophobic before; I'd never understood that feeling of blind panic and utter terror of enclosure. I couldn't even make a sound, let alone struggle against this bondage. In the end even the panic leeched out of me and I wept once again.

I thought I was so tired that I would sleep easily, but the relentless pressure and the ceaseless pain wouldn't let me. For the entire night I lay in a strange trance state until the wake-up alarm sounded. I paid no attention to it, knowing that it simply heralded another day of punishments and pain. I was so exhausted I couldn't even be bothered to worry, and I hurt more than I was tired.

I was astonished that somebody was removing my sheet and dim light was streaming into my bleary eyes. I couldn't focus, but I think I was looking at a maid.

"Quick, hurry up and get dressed. I'll help you with your boobs and pants," said the maid.

It wasn't until she had helped me into my skin suit that I realised it was Nineteen. I whispered a thank you. She helped me into the rest of my uniform, including the gag, in time for Housekeeper Four to arrive to inspect us.

I trembled fearfully at the sight of her, dreading the award of some new punishment. I kept my eyes downcast in an attempt not to be noticed. I could no longer think of anything I dreaded more than being noticed by Housekeeper Four.

"Maid Nine, you will be in charge of Number Twenty Two again today. Continue to work on her balance and deportment," instructed the housekeeper in German.

For the first time, I didn't begin the day by earning a fresh punishment. This was a kind of relief, but I was in a lot of pain and could not move well.

The fear of my situation worsening charged me with adrenalin and I was able to follow Nine to the training room. I dare not be seen to move too slowly and shuffled along behind her as fast as I could, despite the protests from my wounded and aching muscles.

Once again I found myself on the treadmill. Maid Nine seemed even less tolerant of any fault than yesterday, but I was determined not to fall. Each collapse earned me another stroke of the cane, and now I knew that I would do almost anything to avoid that, no matter how much it hurt.

All the time Nine was telling me how ugly my macho walk was, how awful my posture was, and how I needed to work hard all the time to walk in a more graceful, alluring and maidenly manner.

She swatted with the crop at every movement that upset her. I was already sore and bruised and the crop stung quite badly but I could never say it really hurt. My idea of what real pain was had been redefined by Housekeeper Four's cane.

Despite my fevered efforts, I had earned two strokes by lunchtime. Nonetheless I was pleased with my progress compared to the day before.

I was forced to drink my food through the breathing tube of my gag. I attempted this with great haste, as I feared punishment for taking too long again. My corseted stomach felt painfully full by the time I swallowed the last trace of water.

The overfull feeling made me sweat hard under the thick layers of rubber. It felt similar to when I received my enema, but I struggled out of my chair and followed Number Nine out of the lunchroom in time to avoid more punishment.

The next stop was the clinic, for more injections. These were administered by Nurse Five who was extremely businesslike. Without the benefit of the examination table she just tipped me over a chair, threw my skirts over my back, pulled down my panties and injected me in the bottom through the skin suit. I wondered again if she was angry at me for something.

The trip to the clinic was over quickly, and I didn't get much chance to rest. I had been hoping for a long session strapped to the inspection table, where I could at least rest my aching feet. Instead Nine soon led me back to the training room and returned me to the treadmill.

Even though I felt like I couldn't keep up the gruelling pace, I had avoided the most severe of the punishments, and I felt a tremendous sense of achievement. Buoyed up by the wonderful sensation that the bland soup induced and my relative success at avoiding more trouble, I determined to try even harder in the afternoon, despite the fact I was physically and mentally exhausted.

I later realised that I had become so hungry, dehydrated, thirsty, and deprived of sleep that I could no longer think coherently at all, but at the time I seemed to have no realisation of this.

I stumbled and fell four more times before I was removed from the treadmill. Afterwards I was allowed to sit down and given a drink, but I was only allowed a very short time to drink it. Once again I felt uncomfortably bloated.

Nine let me lie down and rest my head in her lap. She gently stroked my head and told me how pleased she was that I had tried hard. She told me that I had been a good girl, and if I kept up a good effort and showed the right attitude I would be alright. She promised to ask the housekeeper to reconsider my punishment because I had done so well. I felt bad for thinking she had been hard on me before.

I was led into the maids' room. Nine fastened my wrists with rubber cuffs and hooked them to the wall with simple spring-loaded snaps that remained frustratingly just out of my reach. Nine left the room, leaving me alone. It felt strange to be restrained by a simple device that one might use to secure a dog.

I had to stand for ages and my feet started to ache almost right away. My boots, as always, felt like they were full of water, and that my feet were trying to swell to twice their normal size.

Eventually, the other maids all started to arrive from wherever they spent the day. They stood around in little groups, murmuring quiet conversations between themselves that I couldn't overhear. I was irritated that the hood impeded my hearing quite a lot and I couldn't hear much.

Nobody approached me or spoke to me. Once again I became acutely conscious that I couldn't turn my head to look about and the blinkers on the side of my hood limited what I could see without shuffling my feet. Even that obvious movement allowed me a very limited view as I was pulled quite tightly against the wall. I felt isolated, as if there was something horrible and contagious about me.

At last, Housekeeper Four arrived. The maids fell silent as she entered the room and all stood properly at attention.

"Yet again I find my time is being wasted by a maid who has failed to meet her targets for today," announced the housekeeper in German.

All the maids glanced sideways at me, I was sure of it, though I could only see a few of them.

"Maid Fourteen failed to complete her cleaning duties properly today. She has let everyone down. Her punishment will be ten strokes of the cane. Prepare her on the horse," she ordered.

I wanted to feel relieved, but instead I just felt that my punishment was being delayed, and would probably be increased as a result. My sensation of dread merely increased.

Fourteen was dragged to the horse, stripped of her panties and shackled in place. The housekeeper then made her count her strokes. The blows were, as usual, delivered with great ferocity using a long hard cane. The impartial and merciless Housekeeper could swing it with bone cracking force.

I winced at each blow. My body was a dull ache from the night before, but as each stroke fell, I recalled the intense pain of that moment. I became so terribly afraid that I felt my bladder release of its own accord. A trickle of urine escaped into my tight panties, but they were already awash with sweat.

I felt ashamed and frightened by my lapse into weakness. I dreaded what would happen if the housekeeper found out. My only consolation was that I had no way to confess my mistake or I would probably have done so immediately. I feared the punishment for trying to deceive the staff much more than the punishment for the crime itself.

Once fourteen was removed from the horse and cast aside, sobbing in a pathetic heap, I felt my turn must be next. Sure enough the housekeeper began to speak, all in German of course. I struggled to follow her words.

"The novice maid has worked hard today and done much better than yesterday. She has made great improvement, but has not reached the expected standard and must try harder. As a result, she will not be caned today. Her caning punishment will be postponed and accumulated until a day on which she has not made sufficient effort," she said at length.

I felt relief wash over me. Nine had been as good as her word. She had saved me! I felt such gratitude. I had never expected to be overwhelmed by such an emotion, but I was. I literally found myself weeping that I couldn't express it to her. I suppose that shouldn't have surprised me, as I seemed to weep a great deal now.

"Her efforts today were as much as we could expect of one of such weak mind and body, so she will not be caned. There still must be punishment for failure. She will have strict gloves added as part of her uniform, which I will provide tomorrow. That is all," said Housekeeper Four.

The housekeeper then left, leaving the maids no instructions on what to do with me. Apparently, everyone had forgotten me. Fortunately, maid Nineteen came up and released the clips that held my shackles.

Nineteen guided me to my bed, and told me to sit down on it. I followed her instruction without thinking. She then sat down and joined me.

"I've been waiting to talk to you all day," confessed Nineteen quietly.

I nodded. I would have liked to remove my gag, but I wasn't sure if that would get me in trouble. It wasn't just that I wanted to see if I could make myself heard yet, it was making my jaw ache, and my mouth just felt generally horrible. Throughout the day I'd been troubled by cramps, but there had been so many other pains and discomforts that it hadn't really got my attention.

"We haven't been told to remove your gag, so you better keep it in until it's time to put on your sleeping hood," she said, reading my mind.

I nodded again, sadly.

"I just wanted to thank you for taking my punishment. I never thought that anybody would do something like that for me. You have offered so much..." Her voice trailed off, choked with emotion. I knew how she felt. My recent experience had offered me insight into her thoughts, and despite our limited communication I felt a powerful affinity to her.

"In a few minutes we need to go and clean ourselves. I know you haven't learned how to do it for yourself yet, so I will show you," she said to me, smiling.

I nodded again. In a way I was thankful for the gag. I didn't have the mental energy to think of how to answer her. I just wanted to sleep.

"We have a little time to ourselves before that," she said.

She leaned against me and hugged me. I was a little nervous. Was this allowed? I supposed it must be, but I was enjoying the sensation of her bulging breasts pressing against me - I felt sure I could get in trouble for that.

Nervously, I returned the hug, but broke away quickly, afraid that it might be mistaken for something more erotic.

"I heard that you saw Number One," she said excitedly. "I have never seen her. Some people say she doesn’t really exist but I've also heard she's very pretty. Is she really beautiful?" She asked.

I nodded again.

"You're so lucky to have seen her, hardly anyone does. There are lots of stories about her. I don't believe them all but..." She hesitated.

I just kept on nodding. She took hold of my hand. Somehow this made me feel better about everything. It was such a small gesture, but I really appreciated it.

"Well, they say there is something supernatural about her," said Nineteen. Of course she finished with a giggle. "I know it sounds silly," she added.

I made no response.

"I just wondered if you'd noticed anything," she said. She hesitated again. "They also say that she might be a devil. Her sex juice is poison: if it gets on you then you die ... horribly," she said, biting her lip.

I nodded again.

"They say that she killed one of the maids that way, as a punishment for disobedience. I don't know if it's true, but everyone knows the maid vanished. So whatever you do, you have to be good. I don't want you to die. OK?" She demanded seriously.

I nodded. I could barely keep my eyes open.

“There’s another story that she gave her sex juice to a man and it burned his body away completely leaving just his brain, but it was still alive somehow. The man’s lover took revenge by blowing up the first hotel, killing lots of maids, and Number One is still hunting her to this day so that she can be punished,” said Nineteen.

From my experience of Number One, Nineteen’s stories seemed ludicrous and melodramatic. Four probably made them up to scare credulous girls but I wouldn’t be taken in so easily. The tales no doubt passed from maid to maid, each time growing in the telling.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. I did get a punishment, but it wasn't so bad. Actually, I kind of like it. I think they were being nice to me," said Nineteen becoming cheery again.

I nodded. My curiosity was piqued, but I was so tired. It was hard to concentrate.

"I'll show you in the showers," she added conspiratorially.

She then dragged me into the washroom, where she helped me strip off my uniform - it would have been all but impossible without her help. Only the gag remained in place.

It felt really strange to be without my butt-plug, and my anus didn't want to close up properly. She showed me how to insert the enema plug and pump it up so I felt nice and full again.

This time I operated the controls that slowly filled my bowels with warm water. I was able to massage my own belly. It was really quite pleasant compared to the savage purges that had been inflicted on me for the past two nights. I was very thankful that I could do this small thing for myself. I hoped that I could avoid getting into any trouble that would mean I ended up at the mercy of others once again.

Nineteen, naked apart from her panty girdle, was using the enema point next to me. She looked lovely. While we waited for our bellies to fill to cramping point, she explained her punishment.

"They gave me these new nipple piercings: they're really erotic. There's a ring at the base of my nipple, and then there's a metal rod that goes through the length of my nipple, that sort of sticks into me and engages with the ring. Then there's another little bar that goes through the end of my nipple that engages on the rod too," she explained, showing me.

I could see the big ring at the base of her large brown nipple: it was over an inch across. It didn't reach to the edge of her aureole though - those were over three inches across. I hadn't realised just how big and round her breasts were until they were out of the tight uniform.

I leaned over to look closer, and I could see the smaller bar at the tip of her nipple. The rod between the ring and the bar meant that her nipples were kept permanently erect and stretched.

"Now they stick out so much my uniform is always rubbing at them, and it makes me even more horny than before," said Nineteen.

As usual, I nodded.

"I think they are being stretched a lot, so they will probably get much bigger. I expect they'll put in a longer bar when that happens," said Nineteen as if the moment couldn't come soon enough.

I thought she was probably right. Her big, erect nipples, with the large rings at the base did look very enticing. I wanted to knead them and pull and twist on her rings. I would have loved to lick them, wrap my lips around them and suckle and nibble on them. For a while I couldn't think of much else.

I felt myself stiffening up for the first time that day. The tiredness faded for a few moments while I dreamed of Nineteen's wonderful tits. Then the thrill passed and I felt exhausted again.

We finished our enemas and then moved on to the showers. I felt the thrill return again for a time as I watched Nineteen soap herself. My penis remained tightly contained within my underpanties, so I couldn't even enjoy the erection.

"This will be the first night you've had to get yourself into your night uniform. It's quite strict, but you learn to get used to it. I would feel really strange trying to sleep without it. I don't think I could," explained Nineteen.

Yet again, I nodded. She then showed me how to get myself onto the bed and arrange everything ready to begin the routine of dressing for sleep. First I had to strap myself into the nightdress (as she called it). It was a tight cocoon that zipped up to my knees, then split with straps and buckles up the sides. When the others forced me into it, they had fastened my arms inside it as well, but normally that was not supposed to happen.

Now I had to put myself into its restrictive embrace. I wasn't sure, but I feared that if I didn't make it tight enough I would be punished. I buckled it as tight as I could around my body right up to the neck and closed the stiff boned posture collar tight around my neck.

With some difficulty, I hooked the edges of the rubber sheet into place until it was stretched taunt across my lower body. I then forced the tight rubber hood over my head and trying not to panic while I couldn't breathe, located it over the holes for my nose and mouth. As I recalled, there were no openings for my eyes or ears.

I had to finish the last part blind. I reached out my arms to find the corners of the sheet, and pushed the corner snaps into place on the sides of the bed, trapping my arms underneath. I could no longer reach the hood, remove the dress or get out of the bed without first releasing the sheet. However, as Nineteen had explained, once snapped in place, the sheet was locked. I would not be able to unhook it until the wake-up alarm sounded and all the locks automatically released.

Nineteen had informed me that after the alarm sounded to indicate the end of our free time, Housekeeper Four would walk around and inspect all the maids to ensure that every one of them was properly secured in bed. Any maid who had failed to correctly fit her night uniform would naturally be punished the next day – if not before.

I was so tired that I felt certain I would sleep, despite the restrictive hood that interfered with comfortable breathing, and the collar. I felt almost comfortable in the collar that always pressed on my throat in a way that made me feel as if I was continually about to choke. After all I had been wearing one all day, surely I could sleep in one?

I did fall sleep easily, but I couldn't have been sleeping long before I was woken by a sudden lurch of my bed, followed by a vibration that made the whole bed shake. It was like the sensation you get when holding an electric drill that's turned on, but numbing the whole of my body. After a few seconds it stopped just as unexpectedly as it had started.

I lay awake nervously wondering what it was, if I had done something wrong, and if I was being punished for something. Eventually, I fell asleep. Once again I was woken by the sudden agitation of my bed. I began to sleep and again it was repeated. This was to form the pattern for the whole night.

After each awakening, I grew ever more nervous and frustrated that I could not get a good stretch of sleep. Each time my jangling nerves made it harder for me to get to sleep again. By the time the morning alarm finally sounded, I was shattered, angry and afraid. What had I done to merit this insidious punishment?

I released my bed sheet, and began the arduous process of removing my night uniform. I knew that I would have to be out of bed and fully dressed in my day uniform before the next alarm sounded. Each stage seemed to take a long time, and I was afraid my time would be up before I had even finished unbuckling the nightdress.

Getting into my day uniform might have been easier if it hadn't been modified as part of my punishment. The ballet boots had no speed lacing, and I had to meticulously thread each lace. By the time I was done, Nineteen was fully dressed, and came to help me lace my corset. I was very thankful for this, as it also required full back lacing, which I doubted I could have done by myself at all.

Nineteen showed me that I could lace my own corset if I turned it around back to front and kept the laces very loose so that it could be turned around the right way before tightening. I was so tired, and in such a panic that I doubt this would ever have occurred to me.

I realized that in effect I was dependent upon the goodwill of the other maids if I was not to continually accrue more punishments for failing to dress properly in time. If Nineteen hadn’t helped me I would have no chance, even with the tricks she’d shown me.

I was surprised that at the end of it all, I was dressed and ready before the alarm sounded and Housekeeper Four arrived to inspect us. Again, more evidence that I was confused and befuddled by lack of sleep because Nineteen had managed to get me ready the day before with much less help from me.

I was a little disappointed that I didn't have a chance to test whether I could speak before my gag was fitted, but I would rather skip that than chance a punishment for being slow to dress.

Housekeeper Four took especial pains to inspect my uniform and confirm that it was all fitted correctly and each part was laced up tight. I was nervous that perhaps Nineteen had left my collar too loose because I didn't feel that it was continually choking me. However, the housekeeper made no complaint. I thought I would probably tighten it if I had a chance, just to be sure.

The Housekeeper completed her inspection, while we all stood motionless at attention at the ends of our beds. I thought we looked like two rows of rubber soldier girls, though I couldn't actually see my own row due to the posture collar and blinkers on my hood.

After her inspection, the housekeeper stepped back to address us in German.

"I will be taking the novice maid Twenty Two personally for voice training today. Maid Nine will oversee the cleaning duties and make sure that yesterday's terrible performance is not repeated. All of you must remember that if you see another maid not working properly, you must report it to a superior. In the event a failure is not reported, you will all be punished," barked the housekeeper in a threatening tone of voice.

I did not like the sound of being in Housekeeper Four's hands for training. As for what voice training might be, I could not imagine. I hoped desperately that it would not involve marching all day on a treadmill in ballet boots.

The other maids filed out of the room to begin their tasks, while the housekeeper remained, waiting for me. She made a curt, peremptory gesture that beckoned me to approach her. I tip toed towards her, my eyes dipped deferentially. I would not dare meet her serpentine gaze. I remembered her eyes staring into mine between strokes of the cane. I remembered those awful cold eyes as she gave me the chance to leave. I felt confused, why hadn't I left when I had the chance?

"Novice maid Twenty Two, I have some new gloves for you, I think these will beautifully complement your punishment outfit," she said, still speaking German.

She let me put the gloves on myself. They were thick rubber gloves that numbed any sensation from my fingers. They had laces up to my armpits, and they were very hard to tie off one handed. Tying off the second glove took me a long time due to the encumbrance the gloves themselves provided, and the housekeeper hissed angrily at me.

"You are so slow. You better hurry up or you will be punished," she threatened.

At the sound of her threat I felt my blood run cold and my bladder loosen. I realised that I had almost wet myself again. I think if she had shouted at me, I would have done.

"Follow me Twenty Two," ordered the housekeeper.

And I followed her to the next stage of my training.



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