Last Updated on 1 March, 2022 by Cara Sutra
Weekend Service
A FemDom story by slave penny
The check-in process had gone smoothly. I’d chauffeured them to the hotel then followed them, carrying their luggage, to the Superior room. From the ice-bucket I’d ensured was in the room waiting, I poured them both a glass of champagne. They sat out on the balcony, relaxing and chatting as I unpacked.
When finished, I kneeled in the room and waited for my Mistress to check my work and give further instructions at her pleasure.
My Mistress was clearly relaxed and enjoying the chat with her real man. There was periodic laughter to reflect their pleasure. I could not see them. My head was lowered towards the carpet, and I was not allowed to move once kneeling in the waiting position until instructed. Apart from my lowered head, the whole of my body was vertical from the knees. There was no relaxing my bottom on my ankles. It was an uncomfortable position and it was intended to be. One of many reminders that I was a slave and the denial of comfort and pleasure a price paid for the inadequacy that labelled me a slave.
Eventually I heard the glass door slide open as my Mistress entered. I could hear her move over to the wardrobes and drawers where I had hung and stored their clothes, then into the bathroom where I had placed their toiletries.
There was no acknowledgement or comment with regard my work.
“Check-in, but do not unpack. Once in your room, change appropriately and message me immediately…and be quick,” she ordered as she sat on the king size bed.
“As you command, Goddess,” was my reply as I stood, head still lowered, and left the room.
I dashed out to the car for my bag, checked in and made my way down to the cheapest room in the hotel. No view, in fact, no window. I stripped and slipped into the grey latex gimp suit that had been selected for me some 6 months before. I prised the internal plug into my anus.
I had become quite adapt at slipping my whole torso, including legs and feet into this tight-fitting garment over those previous months. I still found pulling the half-attached headpiece on quite difficult, but on this occasion found it reasonably straightforward and was messaging my Mistress no more than 15 minutes after leaving her room.
Her response to my message was blunt and to the point. I was to kneel and wait.
I knelt as in her room. A purposefully uncomfortable position. It was some time before the door opened and I could sense her presence in the room.
Nothing was said. I heard her walk in my direction, then knew she was standing just in front of me.
I felt a hand grab the zip that covered my left nipple and the fresh, comparatively cool air waft over that exposed nipple and the surrounding skin as she opened it. Then the other nipple was similarly released.
A bag was opened, presumably her handbag, then I recoiled as my left nipple reacted to a stinging gripe. The pain was oppressive and almost intolerable. My reaction amused and pleased her to the point of laughter. She waited until I got accustomed to the follow-on throb of pain. Through her laughter she advised me that she had acquired these herself especially for this purpose. Designed for punishment, as punishment was exactly her plan using these clamps. Punishment for failings five years earlier.
She touched my right nipple with her finger. She didn’t want to surprise me this time. She knew anticipation would add to my suffering. That was certainly the case – this time I slumped to the floor, broken with the pain.
She laughed again but stopped abruptly as she angrily reprimanded me. “Up!” she shouted,
“UP!” she shouted again. I raised myself to my kneeling position and I felt added pressure on the pinching tip of each nipple. She was squeezing and twisting each clamp to emphasise her anger. “How dare you disobey me?” she screamed as she added to my torture.
She let go and stood back from me.
“I want your wallet and your phone,” she said. She had obviously seen them on the one small cabinet in the room. “I’ll be taking those. You’ll have no use for them in this room. The phone will be returned to you after you take us home on Monday, and your wallet will be temporarily required during the weekend”.
“I’m plugging a device in here. It is a camera, attached to an app on my phone,” she continued as I heard her plug something into a wall socket, “…and you will need this”.
An old Nokia phone was thrown on the carpet in front of me.
“It is to receive messages from me and to respond only.”
“You only exist this weekend to serve me and my real man, and to be punished for 5 years ago. In the hotel, unless otherwise instructed, you will kneel, in the dark in this room, dressed as you are, clamped as you are. I may come down at times at my whim to add to the punishment, or I may not. There is no point in unpacking tonight, you will be instructed by message what to do in the morning. Maybe I’ll come down here this evening to amuse myself, maybe not. After all, I have far more pleasurable things to relish this weekend.”
There was a pause as I heard her go into the bathroom.
She returned and placed a glass of water a few feet in front of me.
“You are allowed to drink tap water and can replenish this glass periodically -but must immediately return to this position,” she instructed.
“Do you understand?” she asked.
“Yes Mistress.”
“The food is very good here,” she laughed. “My real man and I are really looking forward to it… but this weekend, slave, it’s just tap water for you”.
My Mistress was still laughing as she exited my room. I was left, already starting to feel the heat in my latex plus the strain on my knees and back, in the silence and darkness of my weekend cell.
– slave penny
