tagBDSMThe Lilac Hotel

The Lilac Hotel


The Hotel is the epitome of discretion; you'll find no advertisements or marketing of its services, not even a sign over the front door.

The guests are famous, powerful people who demand -- and can afford -- a strictly private stay. Consequently this establishment is discriminating of whom it allows across the threshold. Making a reservation is not a foregone conclusion; The Hotel has many regular patrons and much repeat business. Staying here is a social accolade in itself, although anyone gauche enough to boast about it won't be welcomed again

From the outside it's not even obviously a hotel, presenting as little more than a large, Victorian town house on a side street in a central area of the city. In addition to individual guests it also hosts political intrigues, artistic salons and some very private events catering to, shall we say, particular tastes and enthusiasms. Confidentiality, and diplomacy are its watchwords, a tradition of service painstakingly build up since the late 1940s.

The manager, Emily Hamilton, is, like the establishment of which she has charge, impeccably presented. In her mid 40s she wears an exquisitely cut Jean Muir suit complemented by understated accessories: pale lipstick, kitten heels, single strand of pearls, and no rings: ear, finger or, heaven forfend, anywhere else.

A formidable social networker; confident, reassuring and, although far too classy to use her title, aristocratic. Steely when required, but respected and liked above and below stairs, one can't command loyalty without caring for staff. Someone who suggests alternatives rather than criticises, takes care to notice and applaud effort, consummately professional, in charge of every situation. However, today Emily has a problem...

Remember those very private events for participants with particular tastes? Imagine a substantial portion of an upper floor given over to a consensual spanking soiree for the formidably wealthy and ever so slightly decadent. Now think what the tabloid press might do with a few famous names from the guest list, a banker here, a senior politician there, add a frisson of movie stars and expose to the light.

Not a happy outcome -- this is after all exactly the sort of unfortunate situation Emily's clientele pay handsomely to avoid.

Sadly it seems one of Emily's staff has taken a different perspective, deeming publicity to be in the interest of a prurient public, or at least her career. Fortunately the house detective is quickly on the case and foils the attempt before it even begins.

Hence the meeting in Emily's office, wherein she confronts the young woman involved, Caitlin, one of a pool of supposedly carefully vetted freelance staff The Hotel employs for such events.

"Why were you working today, you're not rostered for this party?" enquires Emily forthrightly.

"I was curious," Caitlin appears outwardly unabashed.

"Really -- about what exactly?

"Um, the spanking scene," not quite so confident now.

"Oh, simply widening your sexual horizons, nothing to do with being a journalism intern, hoping a scoop dishing the dirt on public name or three might be a way in to a newsroom somewhere?" Emily has a lot of facts at her fingertips.

Caitlin can't conceal her astonishment. "How did you know?"

"Dear girl, it's my job to know, assisted of course by our in house and security staff, ex Special Branch in fact."

The girl, willowy, flame haired - really rather attractive muses Emily -- is momentarily speechless.

"You're a long way out of your depth here," continues Emily, "nevertheless I rather admire your determination. I had to battle to achieve my current position."

"As a Baroness."

"My, you've done your homework, but it's a courtesy title, and only by marriage. It wasn't an easy journey to the top and I can't indulge leniency when staff disappoint, so here's what will happen.

First your job is terminated forthwith. In common parlance, you're sacked, too much of a liability. I couldn't really give a stuff if you expose some entitled old perve but I will not have the hotel's peerless reputation threated. Understood?"

"Yes," Caitlin looks crestfallen

"However, to sweeten the pill as it were, I happen to know they're hiring temps at the Holton and can put in a good word. There's a big do this weekend during which you might like to direct your concealed tape recorder -- yes, I know about that as well - at a certain sleazeball US film producer who's comeuppance is long overdue."

"You don't mean..."

"The very same,"

"Has he ever stayed here?"

"Never has, and never will," Emily shudders at the thought.

"Finally, as you're apparently so interested in spanking I intend to administer one here and now. It'll serve as an appetizer or a deterrent, either way your curiosity will be satisfied, consider it paying your dues."

"And if I refuse?"

"No gig at the Hilton - could be a career defining moment."

The redhead considers for a moment. "Not really a choice is it?"

"Wasn't intended to be."

"Very well then."

"A prudent decision."

She pulls Caitlin across her knee, lifts her uniform skirt and begins a brisk, no nonsense hand spanking on the seat of her knickers and opaque tights. After a couple of minutes of percussive hand punishment Emily tugs the skimpy garments down to reveal an already stinging, blush--red bottom.

Taking a firmer grip on the increasingly animated and vocal miscreant Emily produces a wooden hairbrush and applies it vigorously to Caitlin's squirming buttocks; feels an electric arousal build within her as she chastises the slender girl. Did she but know it, despite, or because, of her now burning buttocks Caitlin is experiencing similar sensations. Sadly neither confides this fact to the other. The spanking continues, the two women lost in the moment.

Without warning the office door opens. "That will suffice Emily," says an alpha male baritone voice in a tone that expects - correctly - no dissent.

"You," he courteously extends a hand to help the dishevelled girl to her feet, "have clearly learned a lesson". He watches in amusement while she, blinking back hot tears of pain and shame, adjusts her clothing.

"Who are you?" she stammers.

"The owner," he replies, shortly but not unkindly. "Now off you go young lady, a reference and small bonus will shortly be in the post. In return I confidently expect you to keep whatever agreement you've just made with my wife, or else..."

Nodding fervently Caitlin rapidly takes her leave, leaving

Emily the sole focus of her husband's attention: "You seem to have rather exceeded the bounds of propriety, my dear. Rather an excess of spanking zeal, exorcising some frustration or perhaps rather enjoying yourself I wonder?"

"Both," she replies warily.

"I commend your honesty, nevertheless such reckless behaviour cannot go unpunished as I'm sure you'll agree?"

"I suppose so," she pouts sulkily, avoiding his gaze, no longer in charge of the situation.

"Good, then no time like the present"; he strides across the room and locks the door. "I think a salutary session with the riding crop is order. Be so good as to prepare yourself and assume an appropriate position to receive your correction."

With the poise and dignity of a woman enacting a familiar ritual, Emily stands walks to the end of her desk and bends lengthwise across its polished oak top. She reaches back and slowly draws her skirt around her waist to expose shapely legs. Sighs deeply, hooks her fingers into flattering La Perla kickers and pulls them slowly down to just below her stocking tops. Feet slightly apart she grasps the far end of the table. And in perfectly enunciated tones confirms her readiness for chastisement. "Please proceed."

Meanwhile her husband, Lord Hayes of Sutton, (Colin to his wife and friends), reaches into a corner cupboard to retrieve his favourite punishment implement A riding crop, worn to supple flexibility by the hide of many a horse and now to be applied to the gym-toned flanks of Lady Hayes.

The enthralling sight of her delicious derriere is not at all diminished by its familiarity. Almost a shame to mark those perfect pales globes, he muses, swishing the crop through the air and watching her flinch at the sound, already anxiously anticipating the first searing impact.

With practiced ease he begins to beat her buttocks with the wicked little leather tip Moving rapidly from side to side up and down, she's never able to predict where it will land next. Within minutes Emily becomes uncomfortably aware of a cumulative smart spreading across her perfect posterior. Try as she may it's impossible for her to keep still, particularly when the strokes start to overlap and patches of already tender skin receive a second fiery kiss from the crop. Her feet lift from floor, hips wriggling and bottom reddening; Emily can't take much more, but has no power to make the punishment stop.

A less experienced man than Colin might determine this the moment to cease her correction, surely enough is as good as a feast? Fortunately, being an aficionado of the disciplinary arts -- he will later host the spanking party Caitlin was so determined to attend - Lord Hayes knows better. Observes Emily's incipient arousal, evidenced by heavy breathing and visibly moist labia. The reason Emily is not desperately exhorting him to clemency is because she trusts him to take her to the edge, and no further.

At the point when her trembling legs seem no longer capable of affording support, and Emily's glowing buttocks appear able to heat the room he tosses the crop aside. Unleashes himself and slides slowly but inexorably deep inside her.

Emily, a woman schooled and experienced in the more esoteric areas of erotica, thrusts her hips back eagerly to take her master even deeper, urging them both to an inevitable conclusion. Neither can last long...

In a perfect world Caitlin would attend the film premiere after party at the Holton hotel, catch the loathsome film mogul attempting something unspeakable with a young starlet and post the evidence online. Fat chance; how do you think he got away with such entitled behaviour for so long? It will be nearly another year before the brute gets his comeuppance.

Unsurprisingly the Holton's security is every bit as accomplished as The Hotel's, and she is summarily ejected -- only avoiding a court case because they don't need bad publicity either. On the plus side, the editor of an entertainment magazine observes the debacle and - like Emily - admires Caitlin's pluck and persistence. The resultant job on the feature pages pays little more than minimum wage, but at least she's a journalist, her career has begun.

Hence a couple of months later Caitlin deems it appropriate to drop off some flowers at the hotel's reception area with a note thanking Emily for her forbearance, the chance to try her luck at the Holton and, lest she forget, the spanking.

In short, she puts her heart on the line.

To which Emily, who'd never before spanked a woman and now frequently and fondly revisits the recollection, responds by inviting Caitlin to take tea in her private suite.

There's genuine warmth in their mutual greetings, their lingering and close embrace extending far beyond the requirements of polite convention. A little abashed by this ardour they perch a little tentatively on the sofa and begin to talk

"You enjoyed being spanked," ventures Emily, immediately acknowledging the elephant in the room

"You enjoyed spanking me," counters Caitlin, relieved the subject has been confronted.

"Are you gay, or bisexual or..."

"These days many of us don't tend to define ourselves as anything in particular, but I like to think I'm open to anything."

"This is a new experience for me," confesses Emily hesitantly.

"Do you find me desirable?" asks Caitlin bluntly; aware she needs to take the initiative.

"Very,' Emily is surprised by the certainty of her own admission.

"I've been lusting after you since our last encounter," says Caitlin with disarming frankness, "so why don't you spank me again and we'll see where things go from there?"

This time Caitlin's jeans and knickers come off as she again goes OTK. Bottom soon burnished blush pink by Emily's gentle but insistent application of palm to posterior Caitlin squirms with pleasure.

Sliding her palm sensuously across Caitlin's glowing globes Emily darts her digits between the apex of the young woman's thighs and as, only a fellow female can, skilful fingers her yearning pussy. Primed by the prior spanking and so often having fantasised about just such a moment Caitlin rapidly surrenders to an orgasm. Then, with a lascivious smile of satisfaction slips to the floor, slides her hands under her paramour's skirt and deftly tugs down Emily's panties.

"Your turn," breathes Caitlin seductively. Apprehensive but accommodating Emily surrenders to desire as Caitlin kisses her pale thighs, slowly working towards the holy grail of her shaven sex.

Delicately questing fingers open Emily's vagina to the skilful ministrations of Caitlin's probing tongue. Moaning with unabashed pleasure her former boss surrenders to the delightful intrusion, clitoris tongued, tugged and teased almost beyond endurance. Emily screams in pleasure, tangling her fingers in Caitlin's hair, forcing the girl's mouth down even harder until she climaxes savagely.

A little later, reluctantly disentangled from hot kisses in each other's passionate embrace, the pair sip tea from The Hotel's best china.

Eventually Emily breaks the sated silence by posing the obvious question. "What next?"

Caitlin thinks for a moment. "How about you introduce me to some other spanking implements, and in return I'll share some of my more recherché sex toys?"

"I can hardly wait," replies Emily sincerely. "And since I'm older and tend to think in the longer term, perhaps one day you'd like to play with me and my wonderful husband?"

"I very likely might," agrees Caitlin, "after all whatever we do I'm sure everyone involved will be discreet."

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by Anonymous

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by bucco4005/08/18

2nd Chapter

Would love to see this story continue. Toys, spankings, and threesomes oh my!

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