Best sex slave ever 6

By that time Derek had popped the trunk and was lifting out the suitcases. Dutifully, a bellhop in turn lifted them onto his cart.

“Do you know your room number ma’am?” the dark-skinned muscular gentleman inquired in a soft voice.

“Penthouse six.”

“Very well, I’ll take them right up for you.”

Samantha then smiled sweetly at the bellhop. “Sir, could you do me a favor?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Could you please leave the bags on the cart when you get to the room. I’ll see that you get it back.”

“Oh sure, no problem.”

Sam then looked at Derek. “Give this gentleman a generous tip.”

“Thank you ma’am,” the smiling bell hop nodded politely, then off he went, pushing the baggage cart.

The Mistress then regarded Derek anew. “You may leave us now, but I want to inform you of something.”

Lowering his eyes he replied,” Yes Mistress?”

“I have informed my good friend Hilda that she may check on you during my absence. I’ve furnished her with a key to the house.”

Derek recalled Samantha’s tall blonde friend vividly–She was the one who’d butt fucked him while he was eating his Mistress’s pussy last time they met. The male slave once again replied in a tone of adopted resolution.

Once the chauffeur had driven off, Sam with her slave in tow entered the hotel’s vast, bustling lobby. Guests, bellhops and deliverymen filled the place. More than a few male heads turned as the two attractive ladies threaded their way toward the check-in counter, where a smiling desk clerk greeted them.

“May I help you ma’am?” the short dark haired, cinnamon faced young lady inquired cheerfully.

“Samantha Burns checking in.”

The tall, brown haired guest immediately took a liking to the clerk since she refrained from making a silly remark about being related to George Burns. Instead, she immediately checked her register. “Ah yes...and Marcie Brooks?”

“That’s right.”

“And I see the room will be billed to your company.”

“Correct.”

“Okay, you’re all set, how many keys?”

“Two.”

Just as Samantha had received the two pieces of plastic she turned and looked for the elevators, only to see a familiar face smiling at her. It was a face she recalled fondly. A few inches taller than Sam with combed back sandy hair he spoke.

“Samantha Burns, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Jim Cummings from Buffalo,” she smiled cattily.

“Seeing you makes it worthwhile coming to D.C.”

“Well aren’t you a charmer...how’s business?” She inquired with a wide smile.

“The first quarter was a bit down, but we’re picking up speed now, looking confident.”

“Great...are you checked in yet?”

“Yes, I am...just had a drink in the lounge and I saw you come in,” the thirty-something IT colleague said as he gave Marcie the once over.

Samantha noticed his curiosity and couldn’t resist her “Mae West” impersonation: “Why don’t you give us a couple hours, then come up and see us...we’re in Penthouse six.” What else could he say?

During the ride up the elevator Sam noticed another familiar face.

“Tom from Grand Rapids, isn’t it?” She said as the dark haired, slightly balding man turned to look at her. His face lit up.

“I recall the face,” he replied with a smile as his eyes revealed confusion about her name.

“Samantha Burns, but most people just know me as ‘Sam’.”

His smile grew wider. “Tom Daugherty, it’s great to see you again Sam.”

“I’m hosting a hospitality gathering in my suite later, PH6.”

“Oh really! I wouldn’t miss it.” The door opened and he wished her well.

When the two ladies were alone in the elevator, Sam snickered. “You have just met two potential persuadees, so to speak.”

“How many of them will there be Mistress?”

“It’s hard to say slave...but from what your Master has told me, I’m sure you can handle it.”

At that point the elevator reached the penthouse floor and Sam led the way toward PH6. When she opened the door, she saw her suitcases sitting inside the door on the cart.

“Wow Mistress, this is fabulous!” Marcie exclaimed.

Quickly exploring the suite that would be their home for the next week, Sam called from one of the back rooms. “Bring the suitcases in here!”

Marcie was grateful that her mistress had the forethought of leaving the cart.

Samantha smiled at Marcie. “This will do. It’s not quite like my dungeon, but we can make this work.”

An hour later a metal contraption stood in the center of this dimly lit room. A solid metal bar, parallel to the ground about seven feet high ran from one downward bar to the other. The dual side bars then split at the bottom to form a very firm base. Two metal chains hung from the cross bar and there were two chains attached to the lower part of each down bar. In addition, the Mistress had brought along her portable spanking horse, which stood along one wall so that the spankee’s bottom would be pointed toward the center of the room.

Marcie’s eyes widened. “This looks great Mistress.”

But instead of the expected pleasantry the dominatrix moved swiftly toward the buxom blonde and grabbed her by the hair. “Did you forget your manners slave!?” Marcie yelped and immediately descended to her knees, remembering to keep her eyes down and her knees spread.

“Maybe you need a refresher course in respect!” the Mistress seethed.

“I’m truly sorry Mistress!” Marcie pleaded.

“You’re going to be sorry alright...Strip bitch!” Samantha seethed.

In record time the sex-slave totally divested herself of her newly bought clothing.

“Panties too!” the clearly agitated dominatrix snarled as she yanked her slave’s head up by the hair. “Your thoughtlessness will get you punished! Now bend over all the way to the floor and stick your ass out!” Marcie winced from the pain in her scalp, but obediently complied with the terse command.

The mistress strolled over to her toys and picked up a four-foot black whip with thirteen pliant strands on it. Swishing it through the air, she made sure the slave could hear the chilling whistle. Then taking up a stance behind her naked subservient, the regal lady gripped the handle firmly and brought the lashes with a downward arc and swiped them forcefully across the conveniently positioned buttocks. A startling yelp was emitted from the bent over slave’s lips. But before Marcie could recover, another slice struck right across the middle of her back...another yelp.

Samantha became concerned about the decibel level of her slave’s yelps, so she found Marcie’s panties, balled them up and stuffed them in her mouth. The Mistress then continued to slash her borrowed slave. Back, buttocks and thighs became acquainted with the strands of the flogger, but not once did the experienced flagellator break the skin.

When Samantha had finished, she reached down and yanked her slave to her knees by the hair. Painfully, Marcie’s eyes became affixed to her Mistress’s. “You will learn bitch to respect me at all times. I should not have to tell you to get on your knees! You do it for your Master and you will do it for me!”

Marcie winced from the shooting pain in her scalp as well as from the burning lash marks on her body, nevertheless, she did manage to respond, “Yes Mistress.”

Releasing her tight grip on her slave’s tresses, Sam informed Marcie that she was going to rest a while and that the slave’s place would be on the floor on her back in front of the bed, with her head encased in a snug brace that was attached to the foot of the bed.. Marcie couldn’t help but recall how her Master kept her tied down to the bed constantly when she first became His sex-slave. At least the thick carpeting she laid on was fairly comfortable.

***

After Mistress Samantha had rested for an hour, she recalled inviting Jim Cummings up to her suite and she suspected he’d be showing up anytime now.

Snickering slightly, she also recollected the last time they met. It was in Pittsburgh last Spring. Even though he’s a virile looking man, Sam suspected that he perhaps might be into bdsm and that he was submissive. So when she saw him at someone’s hospitality party, she threw out a few casual hints, and lo and
behold he took the bait. Later that evening, she had Jim naked and on his knees in front of her. An exciting memory indeed.

The doorbell brought her out of her reverie and she ordered Marcie into the back room before politely admitting Jim into the suite with a warm hug. She had changed from the conservative outfit she wore in the lobby and his jaw dropped. The black leather top and bottom was enough to attract any man. The sleek sleeveless low- cut blouse showed off her cleavage quite revealingly and the mini skirt hugged her bottom rather provocatively and showed off her well developed thighs and calves.

After they exchanged pleasantries, Sam told him that she had something to show him in the back room. His eyes brightened when he spotted Marcie kneeling naked except for a pair of red bikini panties. He was taken back slightly when he saw the spanking horse as well as the hanging chains.

He then looked at Sam with raised eyebrows. “You remembered!”

“Sure did Jim and you have exactly one minute to be in proper position, slave!”

Seeing Mistress Samantha pick up a riding crop, the tall sandy haired man began to strip.

“What’s this?” He asked as he pointed to Marcie with his chin as he dropped his shirt on the floor.

“Hurry up and get those clothes off!” She snarled as she whacked him on the butt with the end of the crop.

It didn’t take long for him to willingly obey her command. She walked around his kneeling form, giving him short whacks with the crop.

“This is slave Marcie and she’s staying with me during the convention.”

“Hi Marcie, glad to meet you,” Jim said with a smile.

For his trouble the subservient man received another whack on the butt. “Who the fuck gave you permission to speak, slaveboy!?”

“Sorry Mistress!”

“You’re gonna be sorry! Stand up!”

The naked man felt like he’d been verbally slapped as he rose to his feet in front of these two sexy looking women. Samantha then ordered him to stand under the chains and raise his arms. Expertly, she attached black leather wrist cuffs around each wrist and hooked him to the chains over his head which forced both limbs up and out slightly. Ankle cuffs anchored his legs to the side bars. Being the submissive that he is, Jim really didn’t mind this treatment, for he recalled how she did something similar to this the last time they met.

A few well placed swats with the crop to his posterior brought him back to the present. Circling his suspended body she swatted him all over: back, chest, tummy, thighs and buttocks. A few swats to his stiff manhood had him gritting his teeth.

Then she smiled at him. “Jim, I know how you like this, but I have a proposition for you.”

He looked at her through twinging yet excited eyes. “Yes Mistress?”

“How would you like Marcie to suck your cock?”

The suspended man’s eyes darted downward to the kneeling female. “I’d like that a lot Mistress.”

“But maybe you’d prefer this!” She swatted the head of his cock lightly with the crop. He cringed.

He knew the right answer. “Whatever you wish, Mistress.”

She leered at him. “Or maybe you’d prefer this!” She gathered his hanging balls in the palm of her hand and slightly squeezed.

He gasped.