Naomi did her best to pay attention during the deathly dull induction. How much health and safety could there be for changing sheets and towels, emptying bins and replenishing the complimentary toiletries? At 23 I've been doing this for a few years now, Naomi thought, But crappy as this job was, she needed it, so tried to concentrate. With no work for months, bills to pay and kids to feed, she was desperate for the money. The Leafy Park Hotel was, with over two hundred rooms, conference centre, a la carte restaurant and leisure spa, was one of the biggest employers in the county. There were more opportunities beyond room maid, and hopefully if she kept her head down and worked hard, she could be in line for one of those better jobs.
The most important directions that Ms Thorne had imparted was concerning entering guests' rooms. There was a slight tension, Ms Thorne said, in that not all guests who wanted their rooms cleaned always put the "Please Clean Our Room" tag on the door handle. If they didn't want to be disturbed, then sure enough, they would put the red "Don't Clean Our Room" tag out. But often, when they wanted their room cleaned, they just assumed it would be done. So, later in the day, there would be dozens of calls down to reception asking why the room hadn't been cleaned. So, the protocol for when there was no tag at all was to knock, wait ten seconds, then knock again and call out. If no reply, then enter cautiously, calling out again just to be sure. Seemed sensible and simple enough.
"And finally, here's your uniform," said Ms Thorne as she held out a polythene-covered package. Far from the sexy stereotype of maid's costume her friends had been ribbing her about, the uniform was polyester tunic and trousers in a rather disgusting shade of maroon. Oh, the glamour!
----
Two-thirty in the afternoon found Naomi six hours into her first shift, with another two to go. All seemed to be going well, apart from one very hairy moment -- quite literally - as she had surprised a rather hirsute businessman having a bit of a bop in nothing but towel and headphones.
Pushing her large trolley that held fresh towels and toiletries, and a bin for dirty towels, she approached Room 369. No tag. Naomi knocked, waited, knocked again, and called out. Nothing. She swiped her pass card and opened the door carefully.
"Hello," she called out, "Room service. Do you want your towels changed?"
Still nothing. So, she opened the door wider and went inside. The layout of different rooms in the hotel differed, Naomi was learning. Some were grander than others. Room 369 looked grander and bigger than any she had seen so far. There was a wide but short hallway with an armchair, coat hooks and a desk, and straight ahead you could see a big bay window with two more armchairs and a coffee table in front of it.
The rest of the room wasn't visible from the door. Naomi closed the door behind her and, carrying a set of new towels, moved forward quietly. The hallway was no more than ten feet long, and she was soon at the end of it. Peering round the corner, into the main area of the room, Naomi dropped the towels in shock.
The room was dominated by a huge four poster bed, with thick spindled posts in each corner, a canopy, and curtains on each side. What shocked Naomi was that, at the bottom of the bed with her back to her, was a woman tied to the two posts. She was standing, facing the bed, with her arms and legs spread wide. The woman was naked apart from fishnet stockings and tiny panties.
Naomi instinctively left the towels and retreated to the door. Her heart was beating hard as she turned the door handle, eager to escape.
Then something compelled her to stop. She stood with the door ajar, her hand on the handle, for what seemed like ages, even though it was maybe a few seconds. It looked like she had stumbled upon some kinky sex game, but what if it wasn't? What if the woman was in trouble? She had seen no-one else in the bedroom, maybe the woman was stuck somehow, needing help? Gently, she closed the door and tip-toed back towards where the towels lay in a heap on the floor. She peaked around the corner, towards the four-poster bed.
Okay, well, the woman didn't look in any obvious distress; she wasn't struggling to get free or anything like that. Her only movement was that her hips were gyrating slowly. Naomi scanned the rest of the room in case she had missed the presence of another person the first time, but there was no-one. She looked closer at the woman, trying to work out what was going on.
The woman had a leather cuff on each wrist and ankle, and each cuff was tied to a post with black rope that ran through a metal loop on the cuff. The binding around the bedposts looked expertly and carefully tied -- none of this had been done in a hurry.
Naomi's eyes scanned the woman's body next.
The woman was a few inches taller than Naomi's five-foot-seven. Her body was full but firm, her skin tanned evenly all over. Naomi watched her beautiful arse as it swayed slowly, admired the firmness of her thighs and the toned calves. Curly black hair cascaded down the woman's naked back, stopping just short of her round arse cheeks. Then Naomi noticed what looked like ribbon tied tight around the woman's head. She peered a little closer and, as the woman turned her head to one side, could see that she was blindfolded.
From what she could see, Naomi was pretty sure now that the woman was not in danger, that she had been tied up like this quite willingly. There were no signs of struggle or violence. And she seemed, from her vantage point, like she was comfortable enough where she was. Naomi bent down to gather up the towels, ready to leave the room's guest to get on with whatever it was that she, or someone else, was planning. But where was that someone else? There was no way surely that the woman could have tied herself like this, and yet the bedroom was clearly empty apart from her.
Placing the towels down on the hallway armchair, Naomi returned to look at the woman, her curiosity getting the better of her. The room had a thick, lush carpet that made her careful footsteps silent, and as she tip-toed super-carefully across the room, the woman made no movement that indicated she wasn't aware of her presence.
A thought then struck Naomi, and she made her way across the room towards the en suite bathroom. The sliding door was open, and she couldn't hear any running water noises coming from there, but she popped her head in, to double check that it was empty, her heart almost in her mouth. It was. Room 369 contained no-one other than the two of them. Naomi turned carefully to face the bed, now facing the front of the woman. her hand shot to her mouth to suppress a gasp at what she saw.
The woman's full breasts sported a clamp on each nipple, the clamps joined together by a chain. The chain ran upwards, tugging on the large dark nipples, and the woman held the middle of the chain in her mouth, biting on a small sleeve of rubber running over the chain. The length of the chain meant that holding it in her mouth like this was fully stretching those nipples. Naomi marvelled at the way the clamps dug into the aureole of each breast, pulling them upwards. her fascination came in large part as her own nipples were super-sensitive and probably the most erogenous part of her body. She would invariably pull hard on them to make herself cum when masturbating. Unfortunately, none of her handful of lovers to date had discovered her preference for this, or if they had, hadn't cared enough to indulge her by tugging and twisting on them as they fucked.
Naomi was not a prude, and of course was quite aware that nipple clamps existed, but at her age and limited sexual experience, she had never seen them used in real life. As she gazed, transfixed, at the way the clamps stretched the woman's big nipples, her own nipples began to ache, and instinctively she reached up to touch them. They were rock hard, and she could feel her fingers' touch acutely, even through her tunic and bra. She stroked them a little as she stood, mesmerised. Her right hand moved absent-mindedly down between her legs and gave her pussy a gentle squeeze through her trousers.
"Arrghh......mmmmmmm!"
Suddenly, the woman moaned into that rubber gag, her hips gyrating wildly as she did so. Naomi was shocked out of the daze she had been. Coming to her senses, she realised that she really shouldn't be here, watching the woman like this, and rushed towards the door. Forgetting entirely about the fresh towels she had brought in, she grabbed the door and was outside in the main hallway in seconds. Her breathing was heavy and her heart pounding as she tried to pull herself together. She grasped hold of the large towel trolley, leaning on it for support as her legs felt weak and shaky. She looked up and down the empty hallway and began to push the trolley towards the next room. Starting to recover her composure, she had swiped her pass on the door to Room 373 when she heard a man's voice.
"Er, excuse me Miss, could I have a moment of your time?"
She turned to see a man in his mid- to late forties, dressed smartly in slacks and a jacket, approaching her from the lift lobby.
"Y...yes, of course Sir," she stammered. Another of Ms Thorne's directives was that male guests be addressed as "Sir" and female guests as "Madam" at all times.
Naomi had no idea what the man wanted help with, as he was still halfway down the hallway, but she was eager to help guests and do well in her new job, so she closed the hotel room door and left the trolley outside it and started to walk towards him. As they neared each other, he stopped and swiped his card on his room door. Naomi's heart jumped into her throat -- it was Room 369!
"Um.... wh.... what can I help you with, Sir?" Naomi said as calmly as she could manage. Surely he didn't want her to follow him into the room?
"It won't take a moment, but it is quite important," the man said as he continued into the room.
Naomi stopped just outside the room. She wasn't going in there unless she had to. She waited. Maybe he would come out and continue the conversation there.
Thoughts raced through her head. How likely was it that he wouldn't be expecting to find that woman tied to the bed in there? Maybe he would come out in a state of shock, or maybe he would say thanks to Naomi and close the door, eager to keep that very private scene exactly that, private.
"In here, if you don't mind, Miss," he called from inside the room, For a second, Naomi thought about running. She could make it to the lift lobby and start down the stairs. The guest wouldn't have taken much notice of her appearance, surely, so he would know her any other of the younger maids. But her chance disappeared when he appeared at the door, right in front of her.
He said nothing, but raised his eyebrows in a sharp look, and ushered her in, standing to one side in the corridor, so that as Naomi entered, she was in front of him. Please, please, please don't still be there, she thought as she walked the few steps towards the main room. But the woman was still there, tied to the bedposts, just like before. Naomi heard the door close behind her.
The man breezed past her and calmly released the woman from her bonds. Naomi was astonished at how a simple pull on the ropes running through the looped cuffs allowed the woman to pull her arms and legs free. Just as calmly, the woman removed her blindfold and turned to look at her.
"Pretty," she said matter-of-factly as she squeezed the nipple clamps to remove them, giving the merest of winces as she did so. Grabbing a sheer black robe, she pulled it on and went to sit on one of the armchairs in the bay window, crossing her legs unhurriedly. The man had the TV remote control in his hand. They were both acting as if everything was utterly normal, as if Naomi had simply come to give them a fresh set of shampoo and conditioner miniatures.
"Wh.... what can I do... To help?" Naomi was so utterly confused right now.
"Yes, Exactly," the man said, still concentrating on the TV. He seemed to be trying to get a 'cast' connection between the set and his mobile phone, "Exactly that. What can you do for us?"
Naomi looked from him to the woman, who was looking back at her with a cool, rather unnerving smile.
"Ah, there we are," the man said triumphantly, as a picture appeared on the large TV screen.
The picture on the screen was the hotel room. More specifically, it was of the woman tied to the bedposts, from the front. Her large breasts with the nipple clamps and chain in her mouth were quite clearly visible. Naomi scanned the room and instantly spotted a device on the bedside table, on the other side of the bed. The webcam looked like a single robotic eye, sitting innocuously next to a glasses case and a glass of water. The video on the TV sped up as the man played with his phone. He fast-forwarded it for about a minute until eventually Naomi appeared on the screen, entering the room. At that point, he froze the frame.
"So," he said, finally turning to face Naomi, "what do we do now, do you think?"
"I'm not sure what you mean." Naomi said, looking back between the two of them, utterly confused, but beginning to feel decidedly uneasy. She didn't like where this was going at all.
"Well, an explanation would be nice, for a start." The man said, raising his eyebrows in that sharp fashion again. "You have... well... violated what is clearly a very private occasion with your presence." He emphasised 'violated' for effect.
"I..." Naomi was struggling to find the words. "I just wanted to make sure that you were okay." She turned to look at the woman, whose expression suggested she was enjoying Naomi's acute discomfort.
"Yes, and very public spirited that was of you, I agree," the man replied, tapping his mobile phone as the TV video started to run again. "However, you had ample time to see that Amanda here was in no pain or distress, so..." He trailed off as Naomi watched her on-screen-self check the bathroom and then turn to face Amanda. It felt like her lungs had jumped up into her throat and she thought she was going to throw up as she watched herself on the TV, watched her fingers reaching up to stroke her nipples. The man froze the screen at that point.
"Oh my," Amanda said. Naomi turned to look at her, but instead of the look of shock or concern she had been expecting, she saw a mischievous, almost wicked, smile.
"Yes, violating our extremely personal space, is how I would describe it, definitely," the man said. "I suspect the hotel management will agree. Don't you, Amanda?"
"Without doubt, Michael." Her almost sadistic smile not changing one bit. She was clearly enjoying Naomi's increasingly fearful state.
Michael walked over and sat in the other armchair, next to Amanda. Naomi stood stock still in the middle of the bedroom, all of a sudden feeling incredibly exposed. The TV picture of her with her fingers on her breasts shimmered to one side. For a moment, no-one said a word.
"It's up to you, really," said Michael at last. "I can make an official complaint to the hotel manager, or..." he trailed off. Naomi could feel Amanda's smiling eyes burning into her.
The prospect of losing this job jolted Naomi. She couldn't afford to, no doubt about it. Her mind raced, thinking through the consequences of a complaint being made.
"But you're surely not going to show that video to someone else? I mean, it clearly shows that you two are perverts, all the ropes and clamps and stuff. AND..." she was feeling bolder, "... and surely it's against the law to film me without me knowing like that?!"
"Oh, we aren't the least bit of ashamed about how we derive our pleasure, my dear." Amanda almost purred the words. "And we were simply enjoying a very intimate moment of the upmost privacy. Why on earth wouldn't we be allowed to film that? If you hadn't been intruding, you wouldn't have been caught 'in flagrante'"
She rose from the armchair and walked over to the bedpost nearest her, her fingers stroking the silk ropes still bound tightly around it, the loose ends that had held the cuffs hanging down.
"You see, Michael likes to leave me here. And it gets me so very aroused, knowing he is downstairs in the bar watching me on the webcam. He loves his gadgets... he has an app on his phone too that controls the vibe deep inside my pussy. He loves to watch me squirm as he turns the power up and sets my pussy on fire. Watches my body writhe with desire and wanting."
Naomi thought back to standing there, watching Amanda writhe, just as she said. Despite her predicament, her own nipples were aching again.
"No, I don't think we have anything to hide," said Michael. "You, on the other hand..."
He tapped his phone and Naomi watched the TV as her hand moved down to squeeze her pussy. She was clearly playing with herself as she watched Amanda. She would most surely get fired, never mind the embarrassment if word got around locally; people knowing she had done that.
"Please. Please don't show my manager. I really, really need this job."
"Well, we certainly wouldn't want that... Naomi." Amanda peered at her name badge, her expression altogether warmer now. "It really is all down to you. Whether we have to do that or not." She took the loose end of rope that had tied her left wrist only minutes before, and ran her fingers along it slowly, sensually, as though she was running her fingers through long hair. She let it fall back against the bedpost.
"I... I..." Naomi thought she knew now what was being suggested. Her nipples ached like mad, and her pussy was throbbing. "I... have to get the other rooms cleaned and changed. I really do, I'm sorry." She would lose her job for sure if she didn't get the floor done in time.
"Of course, my dear," Amanda said and moved towards her, a long fingernail tracing gently across Naomi's cheek, "Why don't you get your work done and come back here later and we can continue talking? What time do you finish?"
---------
At five-thirty, the time she had agreed to return, Naomi knocked on the door of Room 369. She had showered and changed into her normal outfit of t-shirt, short denim skirt and sneakers. Amanda opened the door with a huge, warm smile and invited her in.
"I'm so glad you decided to come back," she said as she walked in front of Naomi into the room, dressed in the sheer robe she had put on earlier, only now with black lingerie underneath.
"I'm not sure I had a choice," she replied.
"Oh yes, my dear we always have a choice. I mean, earlier today, you could have left the towels and left, once you had seen me, but you chose to come in and....... well, take a closer look."
Naomi looked around the room. No sign of Michael. The ropes were still in place on the bedposts she noticed, though.
"And you have a choice now, too. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"What did you have in mind? To stop you going to my boss, I mean?"
"An hour of your time, that's all."
"Doing what, exactly?" Naomi had a pretty good idea that she was expected to take part in their kinky bondage games in some way, but nothing had been said explicitly."