Chapter 5 - Cleanup
The Hotel Yorotani - Front Desk (The Day of the Hunt)
Evie wandered out of the bar and towards the front desk, her thighs slick with the mixture of cum, and her own juices. Her panties were still wadded in her mouth, her hands secured behind her head, her skirt rolled up to bare her to any passers-by.
She waited until she was out of sight of the bar to steady her walk, and as she approached the front desk Gabrielle looked up from the terminal she was working at to give her a knowing smile. The main reception of the hotel was, if anything, a little understated. Fronted with the same light marble as elsewhere, and topped in a dark smooth stone it was u-shaped, cutting off hotel patrons from various pigeon holes, and a door to the back offices beyond. Without looking Gabrielle unclipped a red velvet rope that was strung across a small gap in the desk so Evie could make her way into the staff only areas of the hotel.
"Well, well, well" she said, with an accent that had all the pronunciation of Chattelandaise mixed with something else, this and her naturally tanned skin marked her as someone born and raised in the southern Chattelande colonies. "I see someone has been having a good time at your expense. Big tippers....or just a big tip?"
Evie sighed at the joke, before turning to offer the knots in the stocking binding her hands, and neck that also gagged her mouth to Gabrielle. "I'm busy, I've got better things to do than untie you, besides, I think you might be much better at conversation this way." Evie turned, and sighed, looking Gabrielle in the eyes as the woman smothered a chuckle. "Oh don't look so pathetic. I'll let you into the IR room, Creamypuss should be around if you need help."
Gabrielle reached under the desk and held down a switch, a quiet buzzer sounded and Evie pushed open the door to one of the staff areas of the hotel with her hip. Back here the hotel was not so grand. Stark black and white minimalism with dashes of red gave way to grey-blue painted walls with a red flash. The cavernous ceilings gave way to much more ordinary fare, everything was lower, tighter, and less colourful. Evie headed for the inter-rape room, hoping she could find someone there, or see Creamypuss on her way. She sauntered down the corridor, and made a few turns before there was a swish in the air and a whip gently wrapped itself around her midriff a couple of times.
"Well hello there, Evie."
Fuck, she thought, of all the people to be caught by.
"What's the matter? Cock got your tongue?"
A quick tug on the whip and she was forced to face its holder. Staunton Firmhand, the hotel's whipmaster, stood in front of her. He was tall and well built, arms bulging slightly below his clothes. In his red waistcoat with gold brocade, and black trousers he looked more circus ringmaster than the head disciplinarian of the hotel. His sandy blonde hair was slowly passing to white now in its ponytail, and his goatee sported spots of salt and pepper to show his years.
In one hand he held the ever-present whip, and in the other he held a short choke chain with creamypuss almost being pulled up off the floor the way he held it, she looked serene but the colour on her face, and her minute gasps told a different story.
"You know you really should let the guests take it out on slave ass rather than volunteering to devalue your own pussy through overuse."
She scowled at Staunton from behind her gag, drool slowly starting to seep through the panties and out of the corners of her mouth.
"Then again," he continued,"you didn't even bother to check this premium pussy was wet enough for high end guests. That kind of thing will get you into trouble if you let it. I mean what use are staff members at the Yorotani if they can't get guests a cunt that's overflowing, and ready for their filthiest desires."
He tugged the whip wrapped around her waist once more and pulled her in close.
"I think it's time you saw what these girls go through when a client's unhappy. It might help you to see them abused properly by the guests in future rather than what's going to happen to this little wretch right now." As if to stress the point he raised the choke chain a few inches and Evie heard the slave whimper slightly as the slow clicking of chain links sliding over each other made it clear the choke chain was more than living up to its name.
Staunton, as the hotel's whipmaster was by profession something of a sadist, but Evie had to admit he did have a lot of craftsman's pride in his work. His role in discipline extended beyond that of simply keeping the slaves in line, he was here to ensure new purchases were shaped into something the hotel could bring out to their guests while ensuring proper behaviour. He took cowering teens fresh from banding and broke them. Some he made timid and scared, others he fashioned into haughty cunts who would hold back from showing pleasure as long as possible, some he even reshaped into brainless bubbly little cunts who begged for the lash. That didn't mean he didn't frighten her. After all, he'd shown he could make a woman anything he wanted even if she resisted, what's to say she wasn't one of his targets too, she thought.
He walked the pair of them through the corridors to the Disciplinarium. It was a simple room. The wall opposite the door had two pillars next to it, affixed to which were four well worn cuffs. The walls were lined with whips, crops, floggers, all labelled and categorised by age, usage, weight, all sorts of stats.
"Evie, I want you to stand here," he said as he uncurled the whip from her waist. She noticed the spot she stood was worn in comparison to most of the rest of the floor. He shepherded Creampypuss forward. There was a moment of hesitation as she neared the pillars but the mountain of a man was behind her. Evie watched as he very gently placed her in the restraints. It was odd to see, she knew Creamypuss was about to be punished harshly enough to reduce most people to incoherent screaming, but the way Staunton moved her naked form into position was almost tender. He whispered something in Creamypuss' ear that made her giggle, and seemed to calm down a lot before retreating to where he'd left Evie.
He looked at her and smiled, finally undoing the stocking that bound her arms, and mouth allowing her to finally remove the wadded panties. She wiped the drool from her face, stretched her arms, and pulled down her skirt pocketing the roll of hundreds from inside her pussy at the same time. Staunton saw the roll of cum covered hundreds and chuckled while shaking his head.
"Thank you," she said, smoothing out her uniform. "I should...probably get going."
"Oh no, stay, stay. I want you to watch. Discipline is so very intimate. It's the most love a whipmaster can ever show the harem under his care."
"Love?"
"Yes, Ms Allumeuse, Love."
"Isn't it just...punishment?"
Staunton chuckled at her and grinned. "Punishment is a kind of love. It helps fuckmeat to be better. A normal dumb cunt, much like most women is barely sentient. Reason, and encouragement can be used, yes, but proper training is written through their own biological imperative, the basic will of a woman to survive. This is why a slave's food is so tightly controlled, the absolute right to her pleasure and chastisement given to her masters. By controlling pain, hunger, and lust you truly control the woman."
