Quality service

by Amy Flanagan

 

"The job's yours.† And please never forget our motto: quality service."

 

I shook the hotel manager's hand and gave him my best smile.† Aged 18, I had just finished school.† The idea was to work for three months to earn some money for when I started university.† It was only a waitress job, but at the city's most prestigious hotel, the Royal Grand, and I'd been told I could earn extra money on the side by being very nice to some of the wealthy guests.

 

"Right, go and get fitted for your uniform," he added.† "We take great pride in ensuring that all our waitresses are properly dressed."

 

"Wow," exclaimed the head waiter when we were introduced.† "I bet some of our guests will really like you."† He looked closely at my hair.† "And you're a natural blonde!"† He found some clothes in my size.† "The bra has to be flesh coloured so it won't show through the blouse, but the other items look better in black.† Go and change in there."† He indicated a small room marked "Waitresses only".

 

I went in and took off all my clothes, then put on what he had given me.† I started with the black suspender belt; I had never worn one before, but soon worked out how to fasten it and how to attach the black stockings.† The thong too was black.† The bra was, as he had said, flesh-coloured.† It was ingeniously designed to emphasise my already pert breasts and make them seem larger.† The blouse was tailored to fit snugly over my breasts and then taper in over my stomach.† The neckline was low-cut to show off my cleavage.

 

The skirt was very clingy, so that the shape of my bottom was clearly visible.† It was long enough to come a little way below my stocking tops, but a slit at the hem on each side revealed the tops clearly as I walked.† The wide, shiny belt pulled my waist in.† It matched the shiny shoes with their ankle straps and toweringly high stiletto heels.† All in all, as I looked in the mirror, I could be proud of all my curves.

 

I stepped out and the head waiter nodded approvingly.† "If you don't get a few requests from the guests for something extra, I'll eat my hat," he exclaimed.† "And you'll be very nice to them, won't you?† That's part of our quality service."

 

I blushed.† "Of course, I'm here to do a good job," I replied, pleased that I was clearly going to make a good impression and earn a few tips.

 

And earn them I did.† There was no shortage of male guests who wanted to see me in private after I came off duty.† There were even a few female guests.† And with the sky-high cost of staying at the Royal Grand, the guests were all people who could afford to show their appreciation handsomely.

 

One guest in particular seemed to be spending a lot of time looking at me.† I always responded with my best smile.† He was very swarthy and always impeccably dressed in a well-tailored suit and a silk tie, and always sat on a table by himself.† After he had been there for a few days, he beckoned me over and whispered in my ear.† "My room number is 503," he whispered.† "Here is a £50 note.† Bring it to my room at midnight tonight.† And please don't change out of your uniform."

 

I carefully pocketed the note, and was there at exactly midnight, knocking gently on his door.† He opened it and let me in.† "Did you bring the £50 note?" he asked.† I took it out of my pocket and showed it to him.† He snatched it from me, and before I knew what had happened, he had forced me onto the bed, pressing my face firmly against the bed cover, and had handcuffed my hands behind my back.† It was impossible for me to say anything, and hard for me to breathe.† I tried to kick him, but it did no good.† "Yasmin," he called as he ratcheted the handcuffs tighter.

 

He sat me up, but kept one hand firmly over my mouth, squeezing my nose between his thumb and forefinger, while holding onto me tightly with his other arm.† A lady came out of the next room.† She was wearing baggy, see-through trousers and a waistcoat with nothing under it.† Her face was covered by a veil.

 

"This is my slave Yasmin," he said.† "Yasmin will tie you up and gag you," he added in the most matter of fact way.

 

She threw a piece of black material to him.† I saw that it was a pair of lacy satin panties.† "Yasmin has been wearing these for several days," he explained.† "Now open your mouth wide."

 

I was nauseated at the thought of having someone else's dirty panties in my mouth, and clamped my mouth tight shut.† However, Yasmin squeezed my nose between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, while the man squeezed my cheeks at either side of my mouth with his hand.† Eventually, rather than suffocate, I reluctantly opened my mouth.† Yasmin stuffed the panties inside; I retched as the foul-tasting cloth went into my mouth. †It took a great deal of effort for Yasmin to get the panties in.† When finally she succeeded, my cheeks were bulging to bursting point and I was sure that I would choke.

 

Yasmin then undid my belt and pulled off my skirt and thong.† "This thong must go in too," she said.† My mouth was already full, and I couldn't imagine how she would manage that, but she did. †Next, she picked up a length of cloth, a very dirty piece.† She tied a knot in it, then a second, then a third.† When she was happy that the knot was large enough, she turned her attention to my gag.† My thong had begun to come out of my mouth.† Yasmin pushed it back in, before pressing the knot hard between my teeth.† This pushed the two pairs of panties even further down my throat.† But worse was to come: when Yasmin took the two ends behind my head and tied them as tightly as she could, the panties were forced in even more.

 

"I'll finish your gag off later," Yasmin said in the same flat tone as before.† This was dreadful!† Surely this brutal gag would not be made even worse; the thought was horrifying.

 

She brought out a pair of scissors and cut the right sleeve of my blouse from the cuff up to my shoulder, and then did the same to the other sleeve.† A few more cuts, and she was able to remove the tattered remains of my blouse completely.† She then cut the shoulder straps of my bra, and the strip between the cups, and discarded the bra too.† I was now naked except for my stockings and shoes.

 

She plucked at the mop of pubic hair between the top of my thighs.† "We can get rid of that easily, girl," she laughed.† She disappeared and came back with a safety razor and a can of shaving foam.† Squirting the foam all over my hair, she soon had me as smooth as a little girl.

 

She put tight elastic bands around the base of my breasts, forcing them to bulge. "Just to let you know, teenager, I like to do this to my victims," she explained.† "It traps the blood in the breasts so they get more sensitive to pain."

 

Once again, I had to lie face down on the bed.† I felt my elbows being forced together until they touched.† Yasmin bound them with cord, thin hard cord that dug in as she pulled it tight and cinched it.† The pain of the cord and the strain on my shoulders forced a groan from me, even through the two pairs of panties stuffed into my mouth.

 

"Hurts, does it, girl?" Yasmin asked in a flat, couldn't care less tone that made me all the more frightened.† She carried on.† My breasts were already pushed out from the elbow tie, and my shoulders were in agony.† But Yasmin made it far worse by winding a second turn of twine around my elbows, this time above the joint.† I groaned again, as Yasmin tugged on the ends, pulling it as tight as she could, and knotted it.

 

"Oh, come on, girl.† Don't make so much fuss about a little discomfort," Yasmin chided.† She took another piece of cord and used it to tie my thumbs tightly together.

 

"Now for a blindfold," she continued.† She picked up two clumps of cotton wool and a bandage.† She taped the pads of cotton wool over my eyes and then wrapped the bandage tightly around and around my head.† I was completely sightless and felt even more helpless.

 

Now I felt something pressing against my bottom.† It was pushed harder and harder, with a twisting motion.† Gradually but inexorably, it was forced in.† My insides stretched more and more to accommodate the monster.† Just as I thought I would burst, it was entirely in.† I felt so incredibly full.

 

Yasmin and the man turned me onto my back and held my thighs wide apart.† Something now pressed against my most intimate opening.† Again, gradually but inexorably, it went in.† Surely it was even bigger than the other invader.† And yet it went in, all of it.

 

"I have a long length of twine here," Yasmin told me, twisting it around my middle.† "You've a small waist, but I'm sure we can make it even smaller. †Breathe in," she ordered, as she looped the twine around my waist three times.

 

I groaned into the vile-tasting panty gag, which filled my mouth to bursting and stretched my jaw, as Yasmin dragged the twine breathtakingly and excruciatingly tight.† When the hard twine had sunk deep into the soft skin around my middle, Yasmin stopped.† But she was evidently not yet satisfied.† "It can get a little tighter, I think," she pronounced, solemnly.† I groaned again as the cord was pulled even tighter.† The pain in my waist was unbearable.

 

"Just something to anchor your wrists to, teenager," Yasmin explained.† "Stand up, legs apart," she ordered.

 

I stood up and moved my feet apart.† Yasmin wasn't satisfied.† "Come on, girl," she said.† "You can do a lot better than that. †Spread them wide."† She kicked the insides of my ankles, encouraging her to move them further apart.† It was hard to stand like that in my high heels, with my arms useless behind my back.

 

Yasmin tied a cord to the chain of my handcuffs.† Coming round in front of me, she took hold of the dangling cord, which she brought up and threaded under the tight cord across my navel.† "Better make sure this thing sits properly," she said with a broad smile on her face.† She reached down and pushed a hand between my parted thighs.

 

"Mmphh, mmphh," I complained helplessly, as Yasmin roughly pulled my labia apart and pushed the cord between them.† Then she took hold of the loose end and pulled as hard as she could.

 

"Unngg, unnnggg," I groaned into my gag as the twine bit viciously into my most sensitive area.† "Unnnnggg," I groaned again, doing my best to howl in protest as Yasmin pulled the cord even tighter before anchoring it to the front of the waist cinch.† The cord was trying to pull the handcuffs off my wrists but only made the hard steel press more deeply into my flesh.

 

She smiled sweetly.† "There! †Don't move too suddenly or you might hurt yourself," she said, as if she were worried about my welfare.† She looked me over once again.† Then she tested the crotch cord by pushing a couple of fingers under the cord, where it emerged from between my thighs.

 

"Unnnggg," I groaned again.† The twine had been pulled so taut that the two fingers made it dig in even more painfully.

 

"There, what do you think, Master?"

 

The man examined his slave's cord work.† When he too used a couple of fingers to test the tautness of the cord running between my wrists and my navel, I not only groaned again, I blushed all over.† "You've done very well," he said to Yasmin, as if praising her school exam results.† "But we need a lot more cord than that.† And hogtie her.† Oh, and tie her upper arms to her chest."

 

"Of course I will, Master," Yasmin said.† Did I detect a slightly irritated tone at his suggestion that she would do less?† "But surely first I must put on the screw clips, yes, Master?"† She put something over my right nipple.† Gradually, sharp teeth bit further and further into the tender skin until I writhed and tried again to scream.† My left nipple was treated equally brutally.

 

Yasmin cut off another long length of the brutal cord.† She tied one end of the twine tightly around the upper part of my left arm, midway between my elbow and shoulder.† Then she went behind me, passing the cord across my back.† She took the twine over my right arm and round the front.† She threaded it through holes in the torturous screw clips on my nipples, took it back behind me over my left arm and pulled hard.

 

"Hmmmpphh, ngggnnngg," I moaned into my choking gag.† My left arm was pulled inwards and my breasts were not only flattened, they were divided in two by this second line of fire.† But Yasmin wasn't finished.† She looped the twine around the upper portion of my right arm and pulled again.† "Hmmmpphh, ngggnnngg," I repeated.† As Yasmin pulled, my upper arms were forced even further together than the elbow tie had done.† As a result, my breasts went out even farther, so that they were pushed harder against the breast cord and the clips on my nipples dug in even more.

 

"Hmmmpphh, hmmmpphh," I groaned again, chewing the panties in my mouth to try to ease my agony.† Yasmin knotted the cord at my right arm firmly.† She cut two more lengths of cord, which she used to tie my arms to my torso, first above and then below my tortured breasts.† By now, beads of perspiration were covering my naked skin.† Again, she inserted two fingers under the crotch cord just above my thighs.† I spluttered into my panty gag as the thin, hard cord bit even more deeply into my most sensitive area.

 

"Looks like pulling your arms further together has given you a bit of slack down there, girl," Yasmin announced.† "We can't have that.† Never mind," she added, with glee in her voice.† "I can soon fix that."† It took a little time for Yasmin to undo the very tight knot.† But that merely made her even keener to drag down hard on the crotch cord as soon as she had released it from my navel.† I groaned as the line of fire through my crotch was pulled in even more painfully.† When she was once again satisfied, Yasmin knotted it again at my navel.† "Lie down," she ordered.

 

How could I do that, tied up and blindfolded as I was? Gingerly, I lowered myself to my knees and then sat back on my ankles.† Even that little activity made the crotch cord tear at me savagely.† Then I found that I could go no further.† But Yasmin helped.† She pushed me hard sideways, and then watched smiling as I fell with a thump onto the floor and then slowly got my legs out straight.

 

Yasmin pulled off my shoes and stockings.† She then took a piece of cord and used it to bind my ankles, cinching the bond down tight.† A second piece went below my knees, a third above my knees, and a fourth at mid-thigh.† Each was cinched down hard, which made me squirm as Yasmin's hands forced the cord between the soft mounds of my thighs.† Then Yasmin used yet another piece to bind my big toes together.† Even that was cinched.† My legs were thoroughly pinned together.

 

"Turn onto your front, girl."

 

I rolled over as fast as I could.† But I was not fast enough for Yasmin, who pushed me the rest of the way, making me groan as the metal nipple clips pressed into my thrust-out breasts.† Yasmin tied yet another length of cord to my ankle bonds.† "Ever been hogtied before, girl?" Yasmin asked rhetorically, as she doubled up my legs.† This made my leg muscles shorter and thicker.

 

"Mmmmpphhhhh, mmmmpphhhhh," I choked into my panty-gag as the tight cord bit even deeper into my legs and my muscles tried in vain to fight against them.

 

"I think we'll tie this to the back of your tit cord, teenager," Yasmin explained.† "It should have the desired effect."

 

"Unngg, ooomphh, nnnggg, eechmmm," I moaned as Yasmin bent my legs even more.† She wrapped the cord from my ankles around the two strands between my upper arms and pulled hard.† "Nnnggnh, mmphhh, nnnggg," I groaned again, as my feet went past my bare bottom and over my wrists, until they were nearly at the small of my back.† This was a really stringent hogtie.† When Yasmin knotted the cord midway between my upper arms, I found that my body bowed enough to pull my thighs slightly off the carpet.† But as soon as I tried to lower my bound legs even a fraction, I found to my horror that everything tightened up around my chest.† The force not only pulled the chest cord tighter into my cinched breasts, it pulled the tops of my arms closer together, putting even more strain on my already agonised shoulders, and pushing out my breasts even more than my vicious elbow and arm ties were already doing, so that they were pressed both against the cutting cord around them and the floor beneath.

 

Yasmin watched while I strained and struggled with my bonds.† Unless I lay perfectly still, the crotch cord tore at me.† But lying still was not itself an option; unless I strained to keep a tiny amount of slack in the hogtie, pain stabbed through my chest.

 

Yet Yasmin still wasn't finished with me.

 

"Now let's have another look at that gag, girl," she said, squatting down and taking hold of a clump of my hair, which she used to pull her head up.† "If you ask me, you've made far too much noise already." She reached to my nape and untied the knot at the rear of the cloth.† Then she used a finger and thumb to push the panties yet deeper into my mouth.† She then replaced the knotted cloth, tying it even tighter, and getting the whole of the large knot in behind my teeth.

 

All too aware that allowing myself to retch on the gag would make me convulse, I fought my gag reflex.† But I was unable to stop myself, and in the convulsions that followed my hands inevitably pulled on the crotch cord and my breasts rubbed against the floor.

 

Yasmin grabbed a roll of duct tape and tore off a strip.

 

"You make far too much noise, girl," she complained, pulling my lips over the knot of cloth and then taping them closed.† I made pathetic noises through my nose while she wound more tape tightly around and around my head to hold the first piece in place.† She patted my bulging cheeks and then took a bandage and wound it around the lower part of my face so that I was covered from nose to chin.† Then she grabbed a hank of my hair and yanked my head backwards.† "Sleep well, girl," she said sweetly.† "You must be so tired after a long day waitressing."

 

She fiddled about for a second and I felt several nasty tugs on my hair.† When at last Yasmin let go, I discovered why.† Yasmin had tied the cord from my big toes to my hair.† Now, I had to hold my head back painfully or suffer the consequences.† And those consequences were a tearing feeling at my scalp and strain on my feet, which were pulled out like those of a ballerina en pointe.† The idea of staying like this for any length of time was horrifying.

 

"This has been most enjoyable, girl," said the man.† "We are not due to check out until tomorrow, but we are leaving today.† We shall superglue the door shut and leave the "Do not disturb" sign on the door.† We shall be out of the country and back home before they find you, and will have much pleasure imagining what you are going through during the very many long hours that you are lying here, helpless and in agony.† But we shall leave a note praising the quality service you have given us."

 

 

The End

 

Author's note: The inspiration of the story is that I really did work as a waitress in a hotel between school and university.† I didn't go to any guest's bedrooms, though I was invited a few times.† I was told that a waitress was once found tied up and gagged in a bedroom, but I was never sure whether that was true.

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