The Making Of A Whore Ch 01

The HOtel ErotiCo in which this story starts is purely fictional and could be pretty much anywhere geographically. In my mind, it's a mix of several hotels I have worked in over the years. In future stories, we will definitely be coming back here and spending more time within its walls. The hotel holds a lot of memories. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this first glimpse of the hotel and the story that came from what started out as a rather tricky situation that I was actually once confronted with...

Episode one: The Making of a Whore

Chapter one: Sunday; wedding vows were made to be broken.

Welcome to the HOtel ErotiCo; it's a Sunday, and I'm on the night shift. My last shift before five 'well deserved' days off.

23:54: incoming call from room number 5;

"The Reception. Can I help you?"

"Err..." A breath, a pause, then "Err, yes, are you gay?"

"I'm sorry, sir; I didn't quite catch that."

"Um, well, are you gay?"

"That would depend, sir."

"What? Depends?" He said, sounding confused, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, sir, it could depend on many things." adding quickly "For instance, in my case, my cat died last week; I still haven't really gotten over it, so, no, personally, I'm not feeling particularly gay at the moment."

I hear a click,

"Hello? Sir? Hello?" Room number 5 had hung up.

'It's going to be one of those nights' I thought as I put the phone down and noticed the man from room number 112 coming in from the car park accompanied by a much younger man than himself who definitely wasn't with him when he checked in.

'Maybe I should hook up the 5 with the 112!' I thought, laughing inwardly.

It was supposed to be a quiet shift. We only had 5 rooms rented out of the 53 the hotel boasts. But I already had that gut feeling; I might be busier than I had thought. The quiet nights can be like that, especially when it's a full moon. Which it wasn't, but I'm just saying.

01:15: incoming call from room number 5;

"The Reception. Can I help you?"

"I can't sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Maybe you're feeling a little, well, you know, a little too hot?"

"Yes, errr, I mean no."

"Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?"

"Umm, yes, err... Well, actually, that depends." He said, obviously trying to be clever. He continued, "Err... What do you propose?" He asked, unable to hide his true desire in his voice.

"I was thinking maybe something nice and warm on the tongue. Something that feels good sliding down your throat, something to help settle your tummy."

"What? Um, oh yeah, right, yes, that sounds great."

He sounded like he was seriously turned on, probably stroking his cock as we spoke. So I continued,

"And maybe sir would like me to give him some of my special cream?" I interjected and added, "It's 100% homemade, the texture is amazing and goes down so smoothly."

I really thought I had overdone it, but I could feel his voice trembling when he replied,

"Oooh, my god, now you're talking! I'm so ready for..."

I cut him off in midphrase and said, "Give me five minutes, sir, and I'll be right with you." And I hung up.

I went directly to the kitchen and made a hot chocolate, then squirted on a very generous amount of whipped cream on top. I lovingly sprinkled some chocolate powder over the cream, then took it on a nice little silver tray and carried it to the room.

Tap, tap, tap. "Room Service," I called.

I heard movement, then the door latch turned, and he opened the door. Standing there naked with massive hardon, he looked blankly at me as I handed him the tray, wished him goodnight, and trotted happily off back down the hall. Strangely, he didn't call again. It must have worked.

When I got back to the reception, there was a rather cute-looking lady waiting. A little blonde lady, in her mid-thirties, I would have said. As I crossed the floor, I understood from the way she was pacing around that she seemed quite nervous, agitated even.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed me coming towards her. When I said,

"Madame. Hello, may I help you?" She nearly jumped out of her skin with fright.

I instantly corrected what I had previously thought. She was more angry than nervous and snapped at me.

"What room is my fucking husband in!?!"

I knew what was coming and was awfully glad she asked what room her 'fucking husband' was in and not the other way around. I probably wouldn't have been able to contain my smile.

Turns out, but I was waiting for it; she was the wife of room 112. The man who was currently fucking with another man was probably near half his own age.

It took a while to calm her down and make her understand that I cannot give her that information unless a customer has told us that he or she is expecting someone, but I managed.

At first she was livid, but slowly she came down off her high horse and started to be more reasonable. When she said that he wasn't answering his phone and maybe I could call his room from the reception, I knew we were getting somewhere.

So I told her that even though I shouldn't, I will, exceptionally, and then invited her to go and wait at the bar. Surprisingly she obeyed.

There was no way I was going to call his room and tell him his wife was at the reception. Then have some sort of blowout in the hotel lobby or in the hallways.

I did a few things at the reception, blocked the outside door, then went around the back of the reception and came out from behind the bar to join her.

She was sitting on a bar stool and was looking a lot less angry than she was at first. I poured her a glass of wine whilst telling her that nobody replied, that he's probably asleep, and maybe she should think about going home.

She said she didn't want to go home. She told me a lot of things. Starting with the three-hour drive over here. Mostly she just talked about her married life, how bad it was, and how unhappy she was.

I told her that if it's so bad, then just divorce him, to which she replied that she wants to but needs evidence. I informed her this is no longer true and that it's much easier to divorce today than ten odd years ago. Living in her Catholic bubble, I wasn't surprised she didn't know this.

She is utterly convinced he's having an affair and just carried on and on about him 'probably' fucking his bitch lover in the room right now when she was down here suffering all on her own.

I was getting a little annoyed with her victim act. I mean, I don't get it after a while. If the situation is bad, then just fuck off out of it. So I sort of cracked and said,

"So why don't YOU start fucking about!?! You're pretty hot looking, you could easily find cock anytime you want!!!"

At first she was stunned; she clearly was lost for words, but then quite suddenly changed attitude, going all timid and flirty on me.

"Really? You mean silly little me? She said, looking up at me, making puppy eyes and fluttering her eyelashes.

This pissed me off, so I laid in.

"Shut the fuck up; don't act stupid in front of me, bitch." adding, "If I were a customer here right now, I would take you to my room and happily fuck you senseless."

"Errr, well, that was a bit hard, don't you think?" She said, shocked.

"You fucking need it hard, and you want it hard!" I said, "Fuck, if I were that customer, you'd already be cumming, and I wouldn't have hardly even started!"

The best she could come back with was, "You don't think that really? Do you? You're just trying to be funny! But you're not!"

I walked around the bar and up to her; she swiveled around to follow me. As I made my final approach, her legs opened, and I stopped level with her knees. Close, real close, but not quite close enough.

Our eyes were fixed, and without breaking the stare, I nodded down towards her crotch and told her to,

"Put your hand down your jeans and rub your pussy."

"What?"

"I said, PUT YOUR FUCKING HAND IN YOUR JEANS AND RUB YOUR HUNGRY CUNT!" And "NOW!"

And she did. With our eyes still locked together, her hand went down instantly--both hands in fact. One went into her jeans, and she started caressing her pussy, but the other one went straight to my bulge. I was hard, rock fucking hard.

It was at this point I realized that I'd maybe overstepped the mark slightly here. I could get fired for this. Was this really worth it? And how the hell do I get myself out of this!?!

So I said, "You see! I told you you want it and you want it bad," then skating around a bit added, "Maybe I should take you home with me after work and fuck your brains out."

Her eyes seemed to be telling me that she was up for it, but then she started to pull down my flys and said,

"Ok, but you can fuck me now if you want" and lent towards my mouth, opening to kiss me. I couldn't help myself and lent in as well. Just as our lips and tongues made contact, I was saved by the hotel doorbell!

Ding, ding, ding...

We both pulled back and told her, "I've got to go and let them in. Keep rubbing your pussy bitch; you're going to need to be wet when I get back. I'll be keeping an eye on you from the reception, so be a good girl." Then I walked off, pointing at the security camera and straightening myself up on the way, thinking "Oh fuck, I'm so fucking fucked!"

I got to the reception when the bell rang for a second time, so I hit the button to open the outer door. It was JP, one of the security guards from the fast food joint right next door to the hotel.

"Double fuck" I thought, if JP is here, it must be 3 am already. Bugger, I have let myself be distracted. JP 'popped' into the hotel most nights for coffee after his shift. He's a funny one really; apart from his job, which he only likes when there's trouble and a good fight, his only other interest seems to be bodybuilding.

He's definitely not the brightest of bulbs, but you aren't going to tell him that. The dude is built like a fucking tank. Apparently he even has the big gun to go with the body armor. He nearly mowed me over once when I saw him out jogging one time. I remember how almost freaky he looked in skin-tight jogging pants. You could see the thing for what it was--scary shit.

Anyway, I suddenly thought this is how I can keep the undersexed unhappy wife busy while I finish my night.

"JP! Fuck am I glad to see you or what!"

"Hey Cig, how y'a doing!" He said bumping fists with me.

"JP, come here and check this bitch out." Inviting him into the reception and pointing at the screen.

I brought him up to speed as he stared open-jawed at the little blonde lady currently masturbating on a bar stool in my bar just behind us. When done, he said,

"So you want me to go teach the guy a lesson, right? Ok, room number?

"No, dude, we're going to leave him be, but I'm going to take her home after my shift and fuck her a lot. I just need you to keep her busy until I'm finished.

He looked puzzled, so I sighed and continued, "Take this key; your now a customer, ok, and your going to take her to this room and fuck her as hard as you fucking can until 7:30, ok?"

"She ain't going to let me do that!"

"Of course she will; I'm going to tell her too, and I guarantee she'll obey, no worries." and added, "I just want you to pretend you're at the gym and she is one of your machines."

Then walk back to the bar with JP following me.

"Oh, sorry," she said as she saw us walking into the bar together. She ripped her hand out of her jeans, jumped off the stool, and stood there looking all flustered.

I walked right up tight in front of her, lifted her head, then gave her a passionate French kiss whilst thrusting my own hand into her jeans and rubbed her pussy.

"Umm, your cunt is soaking you hungry, whore, but I'm not sure you're hungry enough." then "I've got to finish my job, so you're going to go with JP up to his room. I've told him to warm you up for me."

She looked at me in shock, but before she could utter a word, I said, "Now don't make me raise my voice again, please; there is a limit to my patience! You go with JP, and I'll see you later. He'll leave before you, and I'll call you and tell you when to come down and meet me in the car park."

I withdrew my hand from her dripping cunt and pushed her towards JP, slapping her on the ass as she wobbled over to him.

As she arrived in front of him, she looked back over her shoulder at me and said,

"This is crazy! Why am I doing this!?!"

"Because I told you too, but mostly because you really want too!" I said, giving her a wink. Then I added "NOW GO!"

As they walked off, I followed them through to the reception and watched as they went off towards the rooms. They were going to the 111, right next door to her husband.

Pretty much right after they went up the stairs to the first floor, a young man came down and out into the lobby. It was the dude who had been in the 112. "Looks like hubby isn't going to get much sleep tonight," I thought, smiling to myself.

"Hey young man!" I hailed as he walked past the reception on his way out. He looked like the student type, probably somewhere between 18 and 22, 23. He was well clothed and clean-looking, and he was quite handsome.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm a visitor; I'm just leaving," he said.

"Sure, but tell me, you were in the 112, right?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with you? I was visiting my friend; he's staying here; he can have guests if he wants, no!?"

"Dude, calm down, no worries, it's just his wife turned up, wanted to know the room number, took me a while to calm her down and get rid of her."

"Oh shit, yeah, well, thanks, yeah, that would have been awkward." He said, looking worried.

"Yeah, no worries, I just don't want any scandals on my shift, so I want to get a message to him to tell him to be careful when he leaves; she may be lurking." explaining, "You see, I've only got his office number on the reservation."

"Yeah, but I don't have his mobile number either." Then he admitted he didn't really know him, and he just got picked by him in a gay bar in town.

"I am not gay though," he blurted, trying to reassure me or something.

"Oh, right, so your bi then, whatever, Dude, I don't care, but hey, listen." My ever-so-twisted mind had just had another wicked idea.

"Are you busy tomorrow evening? I've got something on and could do with your services. If you're into ladies as well, it could end up being very profitable for you."

I asked for his number so I could message him the address and exact time, telling him it'll be him, a cute little lady friend, and myself. He seemed really eager as he wrote down his number.

After he was gone, I did my rounds of the hallways and 'Oh, sweet Jesus.' The sex noises coming from the 111 were just fabulous.

Thank fuck, the only other room taken on this floor was the 112. This is what fifteen years trapped in a sexless marriage with a closet homosexual sounds like. Happy times.

At 6:45, the breakfast was ready; I'd done my audit of yesterday's takings, and just as the waitress walked into the hotel, the husband from 112 staggered into the reception. He looked rough.

"Good morning, sir!" I said, brightly. "Sleep well?"

"Would have done had it not been for the couple fucking in the next room!"

"Really?" I enquired.

"Yeah, they started just after 3 am and they haven't stopped since. They're still at it now for Christ's sake!"

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, sir; you should have called me."

"What? I don't like to cause a scandal. I like to be discreet. It doesn't matter, I'll just go to the office and grab a coffee."

"Fine, ok, sir, we're sorry, I'll send the bill to the company as usual."

"Yep, thanks, Cig, see you next week."

I then sent the bill for the 112 and the 111 to his company. Both reservations were in his name after all. So that's good.

At 7:30 JP came down excited and said, "Cig dude, that was awesome! She's hungry for it like you said! Thanks man. I don't know what you said to her, but she's yours now! She doesn't stop talking about you and going back to your place. I think she likes you."

And with that, he left. I immediately put both the 111 and 112 into 'checked out' status and made sure they were on the day's cleaning roster. All was good.

At 7:45, the receptionist for the morning shift turned up. After a quick coffee and going over the consignes, she went to the loo while I got my coat on and phoned the 111.

She picked up, saying, "Hi, is that you?"

"Listen closely; in five minutes, take the emergency exit at the end of your corridor, go down the stairs, and through the door into the car park. I'll meet you there."

"Ok, oh, this is so exciting and I've got so much I want to thank...."

I hung up before she could finish thinking, "I'm so going to make her into a whore."

A little after five minutes later, we climbed into her car and drove the incredibly long distance of 1.5 km from the hotel to my place.

When we got in, I showed her around quickly and then took her directly up the stairs to my mezzanine bedroom. The physical tension was electric; we didn't talk and just ripped each other's clothes off, then fucked.

It was steamy, dirty sex. I treated her like the sex-starved woman she had been for the last 15 years. I dominated the situation and gave her what she needed but also deserved.

After an initial deep and unnecessarily rough face-fucking session, I had her go on all fours and pounded her cunt, only withdrawing a few times when I felt I was too near to cumming.

Cumming was something I wanted to delay for the longest time possible. Her pussy felt great; I was surprised JP hadn't left it feeling more sloppy than it did, but by the time I'm finished, it will be a lot looser.

After a while of enjoying her juicy wet pussy, I withdrew and pressed my helmet against her anus.

"No! She cried, tensing up, "There are limits, you know!"

"You dare refuse me!"

"I'll never let anyone fuck me there, not even my husband, the few times he sort of fucked me after our wedding!"

"Yeah, and I bet he really wanted to."

"Yes, that was all he seemed interested in, but I always said no! It's just not natural."

What are you supposed to say to that? So, I said,

"Well, guess what 'Honey', I'm NOT your FUCKING HUSBAND!!! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND HERE. THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME, AND IT IS ME THAT SETS THE LIMITS! NOT YOU, THE WHORE!!! Do you understand me!?!"

"Yes," she quietly trembled in reply.

I grabbed one arm and pulled it behind her back, then the other, forcing her hands down to her backside. Forcefully, I slapped her hands down onto her ass cheeks and said,

"NOW you spread those cheeks of yours and invite me in!"

She went to obey but was hesitant, so I increased the pressure,

"SPREAD THEM NOW!!!"

She did it, and I could see her little ring twitching slightly.

"Good, now invite me in!"

"Please fuck me."

"Where do you want my cock bitch!?! Say it!!"

"Please fuck my ass!"

"You want my COCK in your FUCKING ASSHOLE?"

Yes! Yes, I do! Her voice and body were trembling with anticipation and excitement; I could feel it.

"Then fucking say the words you dirty slut!!! Say it now, bitch, before I get pissed and send you back to your fucking useless cock sucking husband."

"Oh god, fuck no, please... Please fuck my ass; I want your cock in my ass! Give me your fucking cock in my ass!"

I pushed my cock against her anus once more, saying,

"Beg for it, bitch, I want everyone to know what you want!!!"

"I WANT IT! I WANT YOUR COCK IN MY ASS NOW! PLEASE!!!"

And so I withdrew the tip of my cock, leaned down, spat on her ring, then rose back up, took my cock in my hand, aimed, then just borrowed my hardness into her. She was cumming as soon as I entered her. By the time my balls slapped against her pussy her body was shaking like an earthquake had hit.