Chapter Number 16
What a funny old week it was - it must have been National Tight-Arse Week! It all started when I answered a telephone call from someone wanting to know about the prices. It was fine up until then.
“How much for one night?” they asked.
Politely, I told the caller the price per person, per night.
The next question was, “What would it be for two nights?”
Quick as a flash I responded with, “Twice as much as it is for one night.”
“Oh, no discount for two nights then," they said. Then asked, “Would it be extra for two people in the same room?”
“Double what it is for one,” I told them.
Possibly this was more than they could comprehend, as they said they needed to think about it. They would get back to me.
That very evening a well-dressed gentleman of some obvious foreign origin, accompanied by his wife and three children, knocked at the door to ask the cost of a one-night stay. Having told him the cost of a family room, and then invited them to look at the room first, they all trooped upstairs for an inspection. Once inside the room the wife immediately began to pull the bedcovers back, and I had to explain to her that the beds were actually empty - she would quite easily have noticed if someone had been asleep in any of them.
At that, one of the children wandered off into the en-suite facilities and began peeing into the toilet, so it came with some relief when the gentleman, nodding in agreement with his wife and saying it was a very, very lovely room, told me they would stay. He would be right down to pay me.
True enough, down he came within 5 minutes, but only to suggest that they should have a 20% discount as they were vegetarians. It was usual, he told me. Cereals, toast, and fish was all they would be requiring for breakfast. Of course, I duly declined. Well 15% then, he insisted, and it would be a deal. Once again I declined, but not deterred he spent the next five minutes still attempting to haggle with me. It would be rude of me to repeat my final answer here, but perhaps it is suffice to say that they all left quite quickly.
On the Friday an elderly gentleman appeared at the door wanting a room for at least a week, maybe longer. He explained he was working evenings in the bigger hotels as an entertainer, and asked if he could pay for just the first night then. As he would be getting paid later that evening, he would pay me for the rest of the week the following morning. It all sounded okay, until morning arrived and he announced, very politely and apologetically, that the manager where he was working had gone sick and he would not be getting paid for three days. Nevertheless he would see me right, he insisted, even offering to get me any cigarettes or tobacco I might want to purchase really cheaply from someone at the hotel where he was employed. I only had to give him the money for them first, and he would bring them back later.
It was another offer I felt it prudent to decline, and so he too was ushered on his way. I did feel a bit harsh and mean, until I went up to clean the room. Judging by the amount of empty cans, and cigarette ends in saucers, he had been nowhere at all the previous night.
Saturday, and another couple rang the doorbell. They needed accommodation for two in a twin room for just one night. There was no quibble over the price, so they paid there and then. That done, the man straightaway walked to the front door, leaned out, and shouted up the street. Moments later two children appeared there. One was about 5-years-old, and the other taller than the parents.
“Who are these, then?” I asked.
“It’s alright mate, they're just our kids and they sleep with us,” he said, and then without the blinking of an eye started to proceed upstairs.
Without further ado I snatched the keys back out of his hand and returned the money to him, the whole tribe being shown straight back out of the door they had just come in, but not without some very ripe language erupting from all of them.
Of course, it sounds worse than it really was, because in the end it turned out to be quite a reasonable week with lots of nice ordinary people happily enjoying themselves. Well, that is apart from the woman who received a parking ticket outside and expected me to pay for it. Apparently it was my fault because there were yellow lines outside that I hadn’t told her about.
During the week I did find the time to pop up the road to see Julian and Tristan, who told me all about their first “Spank Holiday Weekend”. They had advertised it in a couple of the leather and sadomasochism gay magazines, and this had resulted in the whole place being booked by just the one S+M group from London. Not only was it for two nights, but they had paid the total amount in advance.
In readiness for this first event, Julian travelled to London and purchased a whole raft of canes, whips, paddles, leather cuffs and belts, and a myriad of other assorted restraints complete with chains and padlocks. Clearly they prepared for the weekend with great excitement and anticipation, even covering the lounge furniture in black sheets, attaching restraints to the easels left-over from the Nudist Art Weekends, and screwing huge hooks to suspend people from into the top and bottom of several door frames.
When the group arrived, Julian and Tristan could not believe their eyes. In their words: they were just so butch and rough, mostly bearded, overweight, and all of them in full leathers - but there were half-a-dozen or so really cute-looking lads too. Apparently these were the slaves. In no time at all the bar was thronging, with the horse play becoming a little rough at times and the glass coffee table getting broken, Julian explained, but then as they had expected some horseplay they consoled themselves with all the money from the booking.
Not long into the evening, Julian and Tristan had a chance to get away from behind the bar at the invitation of some of the guys who by now were in various states of undress, with the smell of leather and the cracking sounds of paddles on buttocks filling the air. A few of the members who were being slapped, mostly the younger and clean-shaven of them dangling from the doorways or tied over the settee and armchairs, were muffling their screams with the handkerchiefs that had been stuck in their mouths, and Julian and Tristan were invited to join in with the whipping of them.
They were really getting into the swing of it, when it was suggested they might like to have a go at trying out the manacles for themselves. With a promise to be gentle, they were soon both straddled across the settee and firmly tied down with chains and handcuffs. It all seemed such great fun as they were stripped and started to receive some gentle caning. Yes, of course it stung, they admitted - but they did find it very erotic when combined with the activities of the others performing around them.
Some of the younger ones, those who had been introduced as slaves, were instructed to take over the bar and to perform all manner of other services for the rest of the group. It was all fair enough as everything was being paid for, and so this seemed to go on for a few hours. Later the slaves were ordered into the kitchen and prepared supper for everyone, with Julian and Tristan not objecting one bit. They being by now well into the party, if not stinging more than a little. Still locked in the manacles, they were sat upright by the slaves whilst they managed something to eat and drink along with the rest of the group.
Supper over, the leader of the group announced they were all going out for a few drinks and leaving the slaves to clear up. They could have some fun of their own with hoteliers, he said, and with that they departed, leaving Julian and Tristan thinking it all sounded like fun.
The half-a-dozen slaves left behind soon had the clearing and washing-up done as instructed, and returned to pay attention to Julian and Tristan. Suddenly the lads, who had up to now been extremely subservient, became almost demonic in discussing what they should do to them. Dragging Tristan over the settee again they manacled his wrists to his ankles, and then turned to Julian. Pushing him up against the harp they tied his wrists and ankles to the top and bottom of it, whilst one of them pulled his private parts through the strings and put an enormous stainless steel ring around them, so making it impossible for their prisoner to withdraw.
At first the two hosts were both happy to go along with it all. That is until the full leather face masks with zips over the eye and mouth pieces were put on them. Then they could see nothing, and just had to imagine what was coming next. Needless to say they got a right good spanking, and apparently the nipple-clamps really hurt. Over the next hour or so all manner of items, including ice cubes, were inserted into all sorts of places, and no matter how hard they tried they could not get free. Attempting to shout out, even in pain, was an impossibility.
A couple of hours of this passed by before the rest of the group returned and, much to the relief of Julian and Tristan, they were released and the masks taken off them. But any respite was only short-lived. Ignoring their protests, within minutes they were both laid out full-length on the floor, manacled together this time, and tied between the bottom of the door frame and the sofa. A tray of drinks was put next them which they could barely get enough slack from the chains to reach, a blanket loosely thrown over them, and two large empty saucepans for obvious use placed nearby. Then, after wishing them both a very goodnight, the group went off up to bed, closing the door behind them.
At the time they thought this was all part of the game, one which they were thoroughly fed up with by then and that had left them very, very sore in the most intimate of places. But alas, no-one returned, and they were left there all night. It was not until 9.00am that some of the slaves came down and started to wash them, still keeping them manacled, with the others if you please making breakfast for everyone.
Things had gone much too far for Julian and Tristan by now and they complained bitterly to the group's leader, insisting they had had quite enough. He only laughed, reminding them that when the booking was made they did agreed to go along with anything that happened, and up until this point they had clearly been enjoying themselves. They were required to honour the booking completely, so they would not be released until the group's departure time the following morning.
And so it was, the poor dears had another 24 hours of much the same treatment, occasionally having the face masks and manacles put on to be escorted to the loo, and then it was back to another round of degradation and pain inflicted on them by the slaves. On the morning of the departure, true to their word, the group did release them, and they were congratulated on providing such wonderful sport. It was even suggested that they might like to become members of the group.
What bliss it was, Julian declared, once they had all left. Never before in their lives had they been so tormented, brutalized and humiliated. However, on reflection they concluded that maybe it wasn’t all that bad as they had made some very real money, with the guys paying for everything they had consumed and even coughing-up for the broken coffee table. The slaves had cleaned all the rooms, found clean linen and made the beds, and vacuumed everywhere too.
Given all the rewards, Julian and Tristan were seriously considering if they should go for it again. They asked me if I would be willing to help them out if they did, so leaving them to just serve behind the bar. Perhaps not, I told them. I was aware that they had not actually sat down once, throughout all the time we were talking.
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