Description
Perched on the side of the bed, she tried to look on the bright side but finally decided there wasn’t one. Leaving before the rest of the hen party would only upset her family. Staying would be a … temptation. Overwhelmed by fantasies, she yearned for something she couldn’t define. Something Angela and the other girls in the hen party found so easy to accept. Then again, Molly had always been the girl who overthought things.
The various activities spelled out on that questionnaire sent a hormone surge through her blood. Cheeks and breasts scarlet, thoughts whirling as though caught up in a tornado, she wondered what sexual games the other hens had planned for tonight. Thoughts of letting a stranger explore her body, maybe even letting him spank her, consumed her. Afterward, they’d share sex so hot the bed sheets caught fire.
That list of rules showed how well this hotel protected their guests’ privacy, but what sort of scenes went on in the dungeon that she might interrupt? Maybe a Dominatrix flogging a disobedient sub? Perhaps a blindfolded slave giving their master a blowjob? Being bound, blindfolded, and naked with a Dom’s cock pumping down her throat only happened in her best dreams. In them, she was totally open and vulnerable, willing to do whatever it took to please her twin lovers. Pulse rate rocketing, eyes closed, she savored her favorite daydream.
So far the questionnaire seemed innocuous, but over the page, it was set out like a menu. The inner two pages detailed everything on offer, from suspension to pet play or fisting. Three tick boxes sat alongside each one. The instructions said to tick the things that were acceptable in the first column, soft limits in the second, and hard limits in the third. Since this form was for her eyes only, she grinned and worked her way down the list.
Asphyxiation was a definite hard limit, as were knife play, golden showers, and gags. A dildo or butt plug would be acceptable, but suspension? Maybe, with the right partner, she’d enjoy it.
Just reading down the list left her hot and bothered, her body more sexually aware than it had been for months. Since no one else would ever see this form, she ticked bondage and multiple partners as acceptable. After all, this game just passed the time until dinner.
The back page demanded every detail of the fantasy she wanted to play out. For those lacking imagination, it even offered a few suggestions. Prancing around like a pony with a bit between her teeth and a butt plug holding a false tail in her ass didn’t appeal. Neither did rape fantasies or anything that reeked of medical.
Reading through the rest of the form made her glad she’d packed her vibrator. Embarrassed by the way her heart raced and her cunt tingled, she shoved the form in the bin as though flames shot from it.
A pre-dinner shower beckoned, but the way her body burned for sexual fulfillment, a cold one might be best. Stepping out of her panties, she widened her stance and circled her fingers around her clit, gradually increasing the pressure. She closed her eyes and imagined herself doing some of the things spelled out on that form. Her newly freed curls tumbled over her shoulders as she threw back her head and rubbed harder at her clit. Moisture flooded her pussy. After a final flick of her fingers, the sensitive nerves in her pussy overheated. She came hard and fast.
Now she really needed the shower. She couldn’t go down to dinner in a pleasure hotel smelling of sex. Almost, she turned the water to cold, but she chickened out and stepped under the hot water. As the shower glass fogged, she let the hotel’s orange-scented shower gel relax her. When she heard the room’s outer door slam, she shot from the shower and wrapped a towel around her bitty breasts. “Who’s there?”
Her voice echoed in the empty bedroom, but a maid had laid a change of clothes out on the bed. Another look showed her the porters hadn’t yet brought up her suitcase. Whoever laid out the black PVC catsuit had taken her jeans and T-shirt along with her underwear. Furious, she rang down to reception. “This is Molly Wade in room 407. Where are my clothes and what’s with the black outfit on my bed?”
A soft, feminine voice reassured her, “I’m sorry, Miss Wade. I thought you understood. Tonight’s our fancy dress gala. We pride ourselves on matching our outfits to your fantasies. I believe the maid laid yours out for you. Please be assured our staff will deliver your suitcase to your room while you enjoy your dinner.”
Refusing to be pacified, Molly almost hurled the phone at the wall. Instead, she snapped, “Then I’ll order room service rather than attend your fancy dress night.”
Again the voice sounded unruffled and professional. “I’m afraid that’s unavailable tonight. You need to check with your party leader, Miss Angela Hall, since we explained everything in the confirmation we sent her.”
Molly fumed. No clothes, not even underwear, no room service, and no option but to strut about in the sinfully sexy catsuit. Part of her cheered, but Angela had a lot to answer for.
