A Night in Desire Manor Ch. 01

I was driving along a barren stretch of highway, an hour and a half from home when my car broke down.

I stepped out into the cold. dark night air and took a look under the hood. I needn't have bothered. Unlike the men of prior generations, I wasn't ashamed to admit I didn't know anything about cars. Unfortunately, I did know that it was too late at night to call someone to fix mine. It only took a minute out in the cold and dark to confirm what I'd already suspected: I had no idea what to do.

I also knew from the dozen times I'd driven this road for work that the section I'd broken down on was very sparsely populated and visually uninteresting. I dreaded the three hour drive I had to make every month for work -- six, really, since I did have to drive back as well. I hated the two days I had to spend working in the country office, but I needed the job badly enough that I just put up with it.

But now, here I am. Stuck in the middle of nowhere. Too far from home to get back there tonight, too far from work to double back. Running through my options, I quickly realised that the only thing I could do was find somewhere to stay that night and try to get my car fixed in the morning.

I looked around and spotted a neon sign a few hundred metres up the road with two words that made my day: "Hotel - Vacancy." I couldn't believe my luck. I couldn't remember ever having seen a hotel on that road at all. I supposed of all the places to have broken down, my car could've picked a far worse one.

It was so dark that the building didn't come into view until I approached. First I noticed its shape; it was a tall, two-story, English-style manor house with a large timber sign announcing that it was named "Desire Manor."

Though the soft golden glow coming from the windows cast an inviting spell, the building itself remained shrouded in darkness, as if coated entirely in black paint. A chill ran down my spine, which I tried, unsuccessfully, to tell myself was because of the cold. Surely, the building won't look as sinister in the light of day.

I entered the lobby, prepared for a modest space, but was met with a sight that exceeded all expectations. The walls were covered in a gallery of majestic oil paintings, breathing life into the room, while a dark red carpet guiding the eye towards a grand double-width staircase that ascended to the upper rooms. On one side stood the reception desk, a solitary modern touch.

The desk wasn't the only contemporary-looking thing in the room, however. The receptionist behind it was a picture of modernity. With her short black hair and captivating eyes, she commanded attention effortlessly. The black horn-rimmed glasses perched upon her nose added an air of sophistication. In what appeared to be a historic building, she was, comparatively, a beacon of cutting-edge style, even though her white blazer and pleated grey skirt would have seamlessly blended in with any modern hotel reception.

As I explained my story to her, a strange expression crossed her face that I couldn't quite place. She looked like she'd suddenly remembered something.

"Huh, that's funny," she said. "That's how I ended up here, too. My car broke down outside this hotel, and it feels like I've never left." She smiling at her own joke. "Welcome to the Desire Manor. My name is Yvette, by the way."

"Unusual name for a hotel," I remarked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose it is. The name of the building predates the hotel. The manor house was named Desire. We've taken it on as something of a motto. 'We always aim to meet your desires!' She sang the last line, as though she were repeating an old jingle. "Speaking of which, what size room would you be after? And do you want to include our breakfast package?"

Any other day, I would have been able to answer her easily, but after the night I'd had, my head was a mess. I couldn't stop wondering how I was going to fix my car, get home or even pay for the repairs. I wasn't in the mental space to answer her questions, no matter how objectively simple they were.

"Look, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. Could you make those decisions for me?"

She thought for a moment. As her smile spread across her face, she let out a small puff of laughter, as if she was laughing at a private joke. "Certainly. Here at Desire Manor, we aim to do whatever you desire. If it's what you want, I'll take care of all your decisions. You will of course have to sign our standard disclaimer, and opt out of any of the extra activities on this list."

She opened a compendium and left it in front of me, indicating where to sign the disclaimer on the left and the opt-out list on the right. Wishing I was in my room already, I signed the disclaimer and gave the opt-out form a brief scan before signing it too. Some of the words played over in my head after I'd signed. Should I have signed a consent form without knowing what the word 'noncon' meant? I wasn't in the mood for any outdoor activities, so I opted out of watersports. I skimmed the rest without taking any of it in, but I could have sworn one of the other opt-out activities was anal. Should I have opted out of it too?

Once I'd settled into my room, I realised I was starting to get hungry. I hadn't eaten dinner, assuming I'd have made it home at a somewhat reasonable hour. I looked around the room to see if there was a room service menu. Failing to find one, I picked up the phone and pressed the 'Room Service' button.

Yvette answered and said she'd have something sent right up. It wasn't until after I'd hung up that I realised she hadn't asked me what I'd like.

Less than five minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find the hallway crowded with people. Three gorgeous women walked in, each pushing a hotel trolley, followed by Yvette.

The three new women in the room were unusually dressed to be in hospitality, like they might normally have worked in entirely different parts of the hotel and had been pulled in for dinner duties with no notice. One looked suited to an office, another looked like a personal trainer, and the third was casually dressed. I wondered if she might be an on-site hairdresser or the like.

The first woman, the one I assumed worked in an office, was of average height, her plain brown hair falling to shoulder length. She looked friendly and had that girl-next-door sort of charm about her. She gave off warm vibes in more ways than one, from her friendly face to her cable-knit sweater. She lifted the cloche on her tray to reveal a homemade pie and rustic thick-cut chips.

The second lady looked like she belonged in a gym, not delivering a meal. She was tall and thin, dressed in activewear from head to toe. She lifted the cloche on her tray revealing trussed roast chicken with a side salad. The string that tied the chicken in shape looked almost thick enough to be called rope, and the knotwork crisscrossed in an intricate pattern.

The third lady, the one I assumed must be a hairdresser because of her black t-shirt and matching black tights, lifted her cloche to reveal the third meal, a bowl of soup and a slice of baguette. The soup was a chowder so thick that the spoon in the bowl was standing directly upright without falling!

Speaking of being thick, though, the meal had nothing on the lady standing behind it. She was short, with a blonde bob, but her most outstanding features were her wide hips and even wider behind. Even looking at her from the front on, her dump-truck arse was all I could see.

Yvette walked over and stood beside me.

"Which do you want to eat?" she asked with an almost suggestive tone in her voice.

I looked across the women and the trays of food. My stomach was growling, but I was overwhelmed by the choice. They all looked amazing. I was just about to say that I'd prefer the home-style pie when Yvette cut in.

"Although, I did say I'd take care of all your decisions for you, didn't I? You look like you've got a hunger only something thick could cure."

Yvette pointed, to my surprise, not at the bowl of soup, but at the beautician behind it.

"Her," Yvette said, indicating for the other two women to leave.

The beautician walked over, leaving the tray behind.

Yvette whispered in my ear, "On your knees, kiss your way up her legs."

Surely she didn't just ask what I thought she asked? Yvette wanted me to kiss this lady? This woman I'd never met? I was in shock. An hour ago I was in my car, driving the world's most boring road. Nothing felt real.

Yvette placed her hand on my shoulder, and a strange feeling came over me. My physical hunger evaporated and I felt compelled to do exactly as Yvette had said. Without another thought, I dropped to my knees and started kissing my way up the beautician's curvy legs.

The buxom blonde giggled at first, then started lovingly running her fingers through my hair.

"Rub her body," Yvette instructed, removing her hand from my shoulder. Even though I could no longer feel her touch, her words put me in a trance. I felt compelled to follow her orders. I found my hands were running up and down the beautician's legs.

I felt like I wasn't in control of my body; indeed, I was starting to doubt if I'd be able to stop rubbing that beautiful woman's legs if I tried. Yvette's words were controlling me in an almost supernatural way.

"I've decided that you want to strip down to your underwear," Yvette ordered. Before I knew it, I was almost naked, still kneeling on the floor. All my attention was on following Yvette's previous instruction; she hadn't told me to stop fondling the blonde beautician's legs. The black tights she wore helped my hands run effortlessly over her body. The perfume she wore was intoxicating, even if I thought that she was wearing a little too much of it.

The beautician moaned as I ran my hands all the way up her legs and took as much of her curvy butt as I could in my hands, giving it a powerful squeeze once I found a good grip.

The more I rubbed, the more my earlier concerns melted away. I wasn't the slightest bit hungry anymore, apart from wanting more of the beautiful lady in front of me. The beautician led me over to the bed, and I followed eagerly.

She shimmied her tights off, leaving her naked from the waist down. She leaned back on the bed, propped up on the mountain of pillows that hotel beds always have. I tried to spy a look at her pussy, but she was rubbing her thighs together too intensely. She then rolled her black t-shirt up her body until her bra was showing.

The beautician was squeezing her boobs through her bra. She spread her legs; her pubic hair was shaved into an arrow shape, pointing directly at her pussy.

"Go on then," Yvette encouraged. "I've made your decision. Eat up."

I was stunned. I couldn't help but stare at the beautiful pussy on the bed in front of me until I felt Yvette's hand lightly press on my back, urging me forward. I climbed up the bed and dove in tongue first.

She tasted so amazing that it was driving me crazy with desire. I just had to lick her more. I reached under her and took a butt cheek with each hand. My hands weren't big enough to cover them, but that didn't matter. I squeezed them as I lifted them, pushing her pussy into my face.

She gave an excited squeal. She must have intuited what I wanted, because she lifted her legs up over my shoulders and squeezed them together, squashing us together -- my face, her pussy.

Her thick thighs were pressed so hard against my head that I could barely see. Losing my sight only made my other senses stronger. She tasted even better, and the sensation of her clit under my tongue felt more electric.

I focused my attention there, flicking it up and down rhythmically. Then I puckered my lips into a tight circle and started gently sucking on her clit while maintaining that same flicking motion.

I lost all sense of who I was, where I was, or how I got there. The only thing on my mind was licking the pussy in front of me until its owner came.

"Ohhhhh." Her moans were muffled by her thighs pressing into my ears, but I could tell she was getting close. My face was starting to hurt from being held down by her thighs so tightly, but I just knew I had to push through and make her cum.

"Ohhh yeah, Ohhh yeah!" I could feel her hips bucking as her thighs put an extraordinary amount of pressure on my face. She came hard against my tongue.

The beautician released my head from between her thighs, then grabbed me by the hair. She pushed me away from her pussy and held me down the bed, not allowing me to climb up beside her.

After a couple of minutes of laying in the afterglow, Yvette told the lady -- whose name I still didn't know! -- that she could leave. After she had dressed and left, Yvette turned her attention back to me.

"The name of the house is Desire. Tell me: have your desires been fulfilled?"

In truth, the oral had satisfied one type of desire I'd had, but I still wanted more. I loved giving pleasure, and on occasion, I'd even come from eating pussy, but right now I longed to feel some pleasure myself.

Yvette took a finger and pressed it to my lips in a shushing motion. "Don't you answer that. Remember your agreement? I'll make all your decisions for you, including whether you are satisfied."

She ran her finger down from my lips, across my chest, until she was pointing at my erect cock as it strained against my underwear.

"I wonder what I'll decide to do with this?" she teased. Then, in an instant, her tone shifted, making it clear that she was giving orders again. "Lie on the bed, on your back."

Once I was laying down, she made her way over. Even though she was kneeling down on the bed, she towered over me. I watched as her hands reached under her skirt, taking her underwear off and throwing it across the room. Even after taking off her underwear, she looked exactly the same as she had at the front desk: professionally dressed, calm, and in control.

As she climbed on top of me, she held the hem of her skirt down, denying me even the slightest look at her body.

Straddling me, she reached behind her back and grabbed my cock, lining it up with her entrance. I couldn't believe how wet she was. It occurred to me that perhaps she had enjoyed ordering me around as much as I had enjoyed being ordered.

"I've decided you're going to fuck me now," she said in a confident tone.

She slowly lowered herself onto me.

It felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. All I could see was a fully dressed woman, but all I could feel was her fucking me. She looked professional, as if she could still be sitting at the front desk.

Her pleated skirt was flared outwards, covering all the places our bodies were touching. I could feel her thighs on either side of me, and I could feel her tight, wet pussy as it thrust down onto my cock, but as much as I desperately wanted to see her body, it was all under wraps.

I looked up at her face instead; her eyes were closed behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She tried to loop her hair behind her ear, but with each thrust, more and more of it fell forward onto her face.

She kept rocking, picking up speed, fucking me faster and faster. It felt amazing each time she thrust down onto me, taking me closer and closer to the edge.

"Do you want to cum?" Yvette asked, panting.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you want to come in my pussy?" she panted again. She must have been reading my mind. I was seconds away from climaxing.

I was so caught up in the amazing feeling of her fucking me I struggled to respond. Suddenly, without waiting for my reply, she stopped.

"You gave over all your decisions to me, remember? I'll decide if you want to cum."

She climbed up off me, letting my cock fall back against my body.

I was lost for words. I was so desperate to cum, I would have given anything for her to keep riding me -- or even just jerk me off. Hell, I was so close to cumming that I'd have exploded if she'd even looked at my cock.

"I've decided that the gentleman wants some dessert."

She climbed up my body until she was right above my face. I still couldn't see her pussy under the shadow of her skirt. She lowered herself down; I was met with an explosion of tastes: her sweet pussy, her sweat, and my precum. It all mixed together in a combination that nearly made me cum from its smell and flavour alone.

She was grinding herself against my face. It felt like her clit was seeking out my tongue instead of the reverse. I was trying to lick it as best as I could, but I was having trouble focusing. I wanted to lick her up, down, and all around. I wanted to lick every inch of her all over.

"I think you've had enough of a break," Yvette said, climbing back down my body. She was perched above me again, lining herself up against my cock. She slid down excruciatingly slowly.

"I've decided that you are going cum inside me now."

She lifted herself up and slid down my cock again so slowly I could barely feel her move.

"But before you do, I have one thing to ask you. One important choice you get to make. The only choice you'll get to make."

All I wanted to do was cum inside her. She'd already told me I was going to do that. What other choice could she possibly give me?

She lowered her pussy again until she'd taken my whole length. She rocked back and forth for a moment, before slowly lifting herself back up.

"One question, one decision. Will you join this house -- work for Desire House?"

I felt another amazing downstroke as her wonderfully warm pussy swallowed my cock.

"If you do, your desires will become reality, but you will be used to satisfy others' desires in turn."

She moaned on the next down-thrust, momentarily losing focus on what she was saying.

"To be clear, you won't work for me. This same offer was made to me once, and I've never wanted to leave." She switched up the pace now, fucking me as fast as she could. "Will you do it? Will you work for this house?"

Her voice was getting high-pitched, like she was about to cum.

I was about to have the orgasm of my life; she'd built it up so slowly. I was so close to cumming, but I needed to answer her.

"Yes," I managed to get out. "I'll work for the house."

I would have said anything so I could put my focus back on her fucking me. On top of that, the hotel seemed nice, and I hated my job anyway.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" Yvette burst out as she came.

Her pussy contractions squeezed my cock, tipping me over the edge. My whole body shook, as I had the biggest orgasm of my life.

Yvette collapsed onto my chest, trying to catch her breath.

After a minute she stood up, straightened her skirt, and went to leave. She looked perfectly presentable, just as she had when I'd first met her at the front reception. I almost couldn't believe that she was the same woman who had ordered me to eat another woman out, and had then edged me and fucked me.

"I've decided you are going to kiss me goodbye before I head back to the front desk."

She kissed me passionately on the lips, which felt oddly more intimate than the two acts of oral sex I'd performed.

"You've made the right choice. I don't have any regrets about joining the House. Well, not many regrets."

After she'd left, I fell into a restless sleep. I dreamt of all kinds of strange things. One moment I was in a car, but couldn't get into the driver's seat. The next moment I was in bed, but couldn't get out. Images flashed one after the other: beautiful women pushing dinner carts, the face of a girl I hated in high school, cream pouring into a coffee, a spring-loaded handcuff, a silver chain linked to a contract written on silver paper. Then, finally, I saw Yvette's face, staring over her glasses, as if looking into my soul. "Your desires will become reality. But you will be used to satisfy others' desires in turn."