Hotel Quarantine

March 2021

Chapter 1

Everything had turned grey. And also dull. The result of a hotel quarantine after two days. Eight more to go! The dullness was deafening. Hotel Wi-Fi was choppy, and there was nothing on TV. I felt like a bloody prisoner in my economy class hotel room right by Heathrow airport in London. My boss had thought it essential that I safe their London branch, and so he sent me across the pond willing to pay the 2000 pounds to quarantine me. And to be honest, it flattered me. I felt needed and valuable to the company. Great.

But this story is not about the boredom, it's about how we beat it. With sex and the gentlest of domination and submission games.

This story is about Amelia and me.

It was 10:30 pm. My highlight of the day had passed: Dinner.

Which means someone brings a tray with food, puts it on a chair next to my hotel room door. I could always hear the steps in the hallway. But only when I received a phone call from reception, I was allowed to open the door and bring it in. So that I wouldn't meet any other people and spread the virus that I was pretty sure I didn't have. The voice on the phone always sounded passive aggressive. Pretty disappointing. The only human voice I heard every day... hated my ass.

I was in bed watching British TV, when I heard a noise in the hallway. Like a trumpet was playing music. It sounded heavy and slow and not all that great. I recognized the tune though. It was Toxic by Britney Spears. An odd sound for a trumpet. But it stuck in my ears, and I was humming along. The first thing for a couple of days that wasn't grey.

I got up, excited for some action and put my ear to the door.

"Shut the fuck up!" a male voice yelled from his room.

The trumpet grew louder, as if the person playing it just walked passed my door.

"I swear, if I have to come out, there'll be hell to pay!"

I held my breath hoping for some excitement: Like the man to come out and maybe start a fight with Miles Davis. Anything. Any relief from this crushing boredom would do.

He didn't though, and he was smart not to. No one was allowed outside the hotel room without permission. There was a fine of up to £10,000 on breaking quarantine the hotel staff had informed us.

It was really, really dumb to parade over the hallway playing the trumpet. Frankly it was also really stupid to open the door to peak, but I couldn't help it.

I was wrong on two accounts.

The music didn't come from a trumpet but a trombone. The large brass thing with the moving valves you push in and out. A weird instrument. My second mistake: It was a girl who played it. She was wearing yoga pants and a crop top, dancing barefoot over the stained carpet. Gingerish hair and huge grey eyes. She looked somewhat Irish. She had pale skin, a pronounced face. Did I mention her huge eyes? And her huge smile when she stopped playing and saw me?

She turned around, stopped playing

"Oh my god, I can't believe I found you!"

"Me?" I swear I had never seen her before.

"Yes, you! Of course, you! You were on the flight from Dallas.

That was true.

"Don't you remember me?"

"Err, sure. Of course..."

"That's great! You were on the bus here! Remember? I wanted to slip you my phone number before they locked us away. You know, I was, I was kind of, you know... fascinated by you!" She burst into laughter over her awkward embarrassment and almost hugged me.

An odd situation. It had been ages since someone had actually touched me.

Fucking Covid.

"But then I lost you in the lobby! I am so glad to find you! You know how terrible it is to be incarcerated in a hotel room?"

"In fact I do."

She laughed: "Of course, you do!"

Well, yes. I had come from Dallas to Heathrow. When we got off the flight, they escorted us straight from the plane to a bus that brought us to this hotel. I must admit I didn't pay much attention to anyone though. I felt miserable. They made us feel like we were prisoners. Like we were on Conair or something.

So maybe I had seen her. Come to think of it, I might remember her back in Dallas with a black case for that giant instrument of hers and a lot of luggage.

"Shit, we got to go!"

"What?"

"We can't stay here! I just gave a concert to flush you out! The bad teeth hotel police is going to come after us!"

"Who?"

She didn't reply but reached out her hand, and without thinking I took it. She yanked it and ran back with me to her room, maybe 20 yards down the hall.

We slipped into her room and she slammed the door behind us.

I had escaped my hotel room, broken the British quarantine laws. I felt like an outlaw. Something I wasn't really used to. I generally liked to stick to the rules.

We stood next to each other.

"Oh my god!" I said, but she put shushed me and put her soft hand over my mouth.

"Quiet!" she whispered.

I held my breath. Not to listen to the steps coming from the elevator in the hallway, but to feel her hand.

It felt like we were committing a felony. Human contact. Her hand on my mouth right in quarantine. I can't remember the last time I had shaken a hand, and here this girl was pressing hers on my mouth. Our arms touched.

My chest was heaving up and down, and whenever I inhaled, her elbow touched my boobs. I kind of did it deliberately.

She didn't notice though. She listened to the steps walking past us. A few feet away.

Finally, the steps became fainter. She started to giggle, turned to me and said:

"Isn't that crazy! It is so good to see you!"

And then she hugged me.

Like, really hugged me.

Her arms reached around my body, she pressed hers into mine, and although I didn't know her and I wasn't sure what she was talking about, I let it happen. No, I gave in to her embrace. I hugged her back, as if she was my best friend. One I hadn't seen in like forever.

All because of her huge smile. She was a nuclear bomb of positivity. And I was starving for some human touch.

Sometimes you only know what you've been missing when you get it back. That's how I felt about her human affection.

When we looked at each other, I immediately fell for her.

She took my hand and lead me to the bed that filled the small room. I climbed on it. Her room looked exactly like mine. Every bit of furniture was the same, even down to the same paintings on the wall. Our rooms were exact clones.

"Care for some wine?"

"Oh god, yes! Why do you have wine? Did you ask the hotel desk?"

She went to the bathroom and came out with a bottle and two glasses.

"Yeah, but they said no."

"So how did you get a bottle of wine in your room? You didn't sneak out, did you?"

She shook her head. "I tried though!"

"You didn't!"

"To be honest, it just flew in through there." She vaguely waved at the window.

I looked at her in amazement. There was a lot of mystery around her. However, the biggest mystery was still though, why she had looked for me.

She opened the bottle, poured two glasses and handed me one then she climbed on the bed as well. She raised her glass and said:

"To hotel quarantine!"

That moment she paused, looked into my eyes, and I felt like she wanted to steal my heart. Her eyes were looking into mine, going right through to my soul. As if she wanted to flip a switch to make me fall in love with her.

I let it happen.

I allowed her to explore my eyes and whatever she might find in them. It became pretty tense very quickly. Her smile had disappeared, and I felt like she was getting serious. Like she was about to get into serious business. She was moving very fast, but I was starving for some human touch. And I liked how she had suddenly changed into playful dominant mode. As if there was some dark determination in her. It just came, and I instantly fell for her darkness.

I started to feel a little self-conscious and a little scared what she might find rummaging through my soul. Something had changed.

There was something hypnotizing in her eyes.

But then she broke the tension and shouted:

"To fucking hotel motherfucking quarantine!"

She laughed out loud, and I thought she'd spill her wine. Instead, she downed the whole glass in one gulp. I did the same.

I don't know anything about wine, but this was a cheap one. It didn't matter though. It went right to my head.

"I'm Amelia, by the way! Just in case you want to know!"

"I'm Kait. Pleased to meet you!"

"Let's drink to that!"

Amelia filled our glasses and we emptied them again.

Then she looked at me again with her huge grey eyes and hugged me again!

I smelled the alcohol in her breath. I also felt the alcohol in my head.

The way she shifted her personality confused me though. One second she was this, the next that. And I just sat there and admired her character as she seemed to dance around me with her changing personality. She seemed to pick up on this:

"I'm sorry! You must think I'm weird!" she said after she pulled away. "I mean, we just met. You don't know me! You must think I am some sort of a freak or something!"

"No, no, not at all!"

"It's just, you know, I've been following you. From Dallas. You know. Like a stalker. But a nice stalker, don't get me wrong!"

She had reached out to grab my hands, and I was glad that she didn't let go of them, when she continued:

"I owe you an apology. I've been following you since Dallas. I was two people behind you when you checked in, and I caught a glimpse of your ticket. 23C, right? So I asked if I could have 25D. Two seats behind you on the other side of the aisles. I'm kind of scared of flying, you know. And so I have developed this strategy by finding a distraction. Something that keeps me focused on something other than my fear, you know!"

"I get it, no worries!" I actually liked that she had some sort of a plan to battle her anxieties.

But really what I was focused on was how she held my hand and how her thumb caressed my hand while she talked.

"I noticed that rainbow badge on your backpack. And you know, don't get me wrong! It's not like... you know. Do you know? I mean really?"

I really didn't know what she was talking about, but I smiled that she had felt awkward talking about it and nodded.

"It's just that I'm new to all of this. To girls. I'm into girls! There, I said it! I mean, I recently left a relationship with a guy, and I thought. You know, I think, I'm into girls. So, I came out to myself. At the beginning of the pandemic. Can you believe it? Worst timing ever! So, I really wanted to meet girls. But it's hard! I mean, it's really difficult to figure out if another girl is into girls! I was really happy to see you at the airport and your rainbow badge. That's why I picked you to follow. My other choice was this weird old man who has the hands of a pianist. I am glad that I chose you."

"Well, thank you. I am glad you chose me to stalk as well."

"I'm so sorry! Are you though?"

"What?"

"Gay? Are you a lesbian? Or do you just support us?"

I liked how she said 'us'.

"I am actually one of 'us' as well."

"Are you really?"

She burst out laughing and a moment later I found myself in her embrace again. Once again it felt like I received an infusion of energy from her that was so, so rejuvenating! What I had fucking longed for so much!

This time, I didn't just passively enjoy her embrace, I leaned into it more, held her tight, and when she eventually tried to pull away, I didn't let her go, and whispered in her ear:

"Not yet. Just a little longer!"

Immediately her body relaxed, and she let herself slip into my arms as well, as if I had granted her a wish. And now I realized that she didn't really have the courage to make the next step. It was all new to her.

Her hair radiated that warm smell, and I bathed in her scent.

She was so cute. So full of energy, she wanted to take the initiative despite being new to all this. Although I liked being on the receiving end, the one being conquered, I now had to help her out, nudge her into the right direction. So that she could find her courage.

And so I gently kissed her neck. Her pale, slender neck.

She sighed and pushed her body into mine like a cat longing for attention.

Amelia enjoyed my kisses for a while, but I could feel her becoming restless. She wanted to be in charge. Eventually she pulled back, took my head into her hands, looked into my eyes again. It was not so much to look at me, but to tease me and to show me that she wanted to be the boss. And I loved it, I totally wanted her to do whatever she wanted. I wanted to be led by her. Especially since she had never done this.

She planted a kiss on my lips, but when I opened my mouth to invite her in, she stopped, left me hanging there. She pulled back, her eyes piercing my soul, and I couldn't believe how I melted away while her hands were still holding my head to show that I was under her control.

When she pressed her lips on mine, she did it like a cat hunting her prey, and me the little starling just let it happen. I invited her tongue into my mouth, let her explore me, and just as she had refueled my energy earlier when she had rescued me from my hotel prison, I now felt her feeding on my body like a predator, and it gave her confidence, it gave her power over me. And it gave me joy.

She pushed me back on the bed and climbed on me and straddled on top of me.

Amelia pinned my wrists down, and I looked up to her, towering over me. There is nothing I love more than a woman looming over me, teasing me with her affection or maybe even threatening me with some hot sexual evil. Affection that she may grant or withhold from me at her own will.

There was Amelia's huge smile again.

But now she sported a pinch of mischievousness, as if she had some evil intentions with me. I couldn't wait to find out.

This was her.

Amelia constantly switched between her friendly, amicable side and this soft dominating nature. Like she didn't know what she wanted to be, but also like she knew exactly. It didn't feel forced or cliché. It was her. Laughing one second and then wanting to have control the next.

"Looks like I got you pinned down!", she whispered.

"Looks like it."

"Try to get out!"

"Maybe I don't want to get out! Maybe I want to be at your mercy."

"I like how you see it. You really are at my mercy!" she teased.

The longing to be at someone's mercy wasn't exactly new to me. I loved being submissive. It was my greatest kink, but I also felt like some sort of a unicorn, because I didn't really have a lot of luck finding a dominant girl. It felt like all the lesbians I met wanted to be nice and warm and not putting themselves over me.

Her head was now just above mine. I raised it to kiss her, but she moved away. I sighed, pushed harder to raise it, but she kept herself out of my reach. I succumbed to my frustration and let my head fall down back on the pillow in faked frustration.

"No chance!"

Amelia quickly dove down to my face and licked her tongue over the tip of my nose as if to mark me.

"You are mine!" she smiled triumphantly.

"I will get out!" I started to wiggle my hips, but she rode me like she was a cowgirl, and when I tried to get my wrists free, she just laughed:

"No chance, Kait!"

I loved how she said my name.

It had been ages since somebody had called me by my name.

We looked each other in the eyes, and then she lowered herself and kissed me. Really kissed me, and I kissed her back. Really kissed her back.

The alcohol in my head had softened my mind, and her kisses made me get even more wobbly. It felt like my blood was rushing all through my body without delivering oxygen anywhere. It didn't matter. I was safe with her.

Her hands released my wrists, and I reached around her body, pulled her towards me. I wanted her to be as close as possible.

Her belly on mine, her breasts pressed against mine, her legs between mine. My hand combed through her thin hair.

I felt her hand on my hips, untugging my shirt from my jogging pants. The pants that I had felt a little embarrassed about when I had walked out of my room into the hallway. It didn't matter anymore.

She stopped, her hand on my belly and whispered:

"Is it okay?"

I nodded, grateful for how considerate she was and how she cared about my feelings. "Yes, please!" when I became aware my submissive choice of words, I continued to plead: "Please touch me!"

She teased me a little, withdrew her head, when I tried to invite her into my mouth, but then she kissed me. Her hand moved up my shirt. I wished it would have moved down into my pants. Not only my head felt mellow and warm, also my groin did. I wanted her to be down there.

But instead, her hand slithered up to my boobs like a snake and then, ever so gently she touched my nipples, and it was like a jolt of electricity shocking me. Amelia looked at me to check, if I was okay, and I adored her for her care for me.

She explored the curves of my boobs. I liked the way she played with them.

Amelia tried to pull up my shirt even further, and I wanted her to have access to my body, and so I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it on the ground. When she tried to do the same, I whispered:

"Please, no. Keep it on, for now. I want to be naked for you. I want to present myself to you. It turns me on! You know. To be naked while you are not." I blushed for that confession. It felt humiliating, but it was meant as a display of my trust in her.

She nodded, and I really liked how she said:

"I grant you that."

Amelia pulled my jogging pants off my hips, and I wished she would have done the same with my pink unsexy panties. I wanted to expose myself to her completely. To show my gratitude and my devotion.

Apparently, I was moving faster than Amelia, she wasn't ready or maybe she wasn't sure whether I was okay with it. I wanted her to be bolder, but I appreciated her hesitation not to go too far.

So, I rubbed my naked thighs against the coarse fabric of her tight yoga pants, and it made me feel exposed, and it made me so much hornier. This imbalance of power, this unjust distribution of clothes and exposed skin. The cool air of the room on my chest, her hands now all over my body. Her hands roaming freely over my chest. She stopped to kiss and then suck on my erect nipples. As she looked down at me, I stroked her hair, nurtured her desire while I pressed my hips against her thighs.

Slowly first, but then with more rhythm I gyrated my hips, pressing it against her.

Amelia noticed, and when she did she said with faked consternation:

"Stop it! I call the shots here!" She gently took my nipple between her teeth and bit it. Not hard, it wasn't painful. But it could have been. She had the power to hurt me but didn't. This was a dream come true. So I stopped. I obeyed.

"Good girl!", she cooed. I felt proud. I wanted to be good for her.

She continued playing with my boobs.

I wanted to be her good girl. I also wanted to be naughty for her. I wanted her to show her power over me.

So, I started to move my hips again. Slowly. Turning myself on.

She noticed of course. I wanted her to.

"Stop it!"

She looked at me.

I agreed: "I will. I am sorry."

But of course, I didn't. I couldn't lie still for long, and so I commenced gyrating my hips.

When she noticed this time, she commanded:

"I said: Stop!"

She put her hand on my throat. To me this is the most erotic gesture. This idea that a girl has all the power over me, that I am totally at her mercy. Not really, of course. I just like the feeling.

The way she did it, I knew that she knew what she was doing, her fingers not on my throat but the side of my neck, and she wasn't pressing hard. She was just hinting at what she could do. I was in heaven in all my helplessness, at her mercy, in her hands.