Waitress Made to ServebyExplorer222©
It was almost closing time when Sonya saw him come into the coffee shop again. Immediately she felt the same lightness in her stomach that she had experienced at noontime when she had served him lunch. He was a big man, about six-three, 230 pounds, heavy set but not fat. His face had strong features, with a prominent nose and chin, and his blue eyes showed intelligence. She judged him to be in his 40's, one of those men who look physically powerful and carry themselves like they are not afraid of anything or anyone.
They had talked a little at lunch time about the weather and what a nice hotel it was, but as she remembered it, she had done most of the talking, and he had mainly just looked at her. She had found it difficult to walk away from his table to serve the other diners. He had told her that is name was Carl, and that he was staying in the hotel.
Sonya had been not been with a man for a long time. Middle aged and average looking, men did not seem to notice her, especially in her frumpy waitress dress with the little name tag that said "Sonya." Her life was the unending routine of serving mediocre food six days a week at the hotel coffee shop. At night she would lose herself in the fantasies of romance novels, always becoming aroused when the heroine was forced to submit to a powerful man. A few times she had been carried away to the point that she sought out stories on the internet about sexual submission.
The coffee shop closed at 9 PM, and there were no other customers when Carl walked in and took a seat in the corner booth.
Sonya walked over to him and smiled. "Hello again. You must like our coffee shop food."
He looked at her, but did not return her smile. For what seemed like a minute he locked his eyes on hers. Then finally he spoke.
"Bring me a piece of pie and a black coffee."
Sonya was flustered by his abruptness and the power of his stare.
"Yes, sir," she said. The words seemed to come from deep within her.
She prepared the pie and coffee in a kind of trance. When she took it to him, he said nothing, but his eyes never left hers. She put down the plate and cup and retreated to the safety of the kitchen. The cook was just finishing his clean up.
"Closing time. I'm outa here," he said, and he turned off the lights in the kitchen as he left. Sonya had no choice but to go back into the dining area.
Carl was gone. He had taken one bite out of the pie, hardly touched the coffee. There was a $20 bill on his table, and a folded piece of paper. Sonya collected the money and opened the note.
"Room 412. Your safe word is velvet."
Sonya gasped. "This can't be happening," she thought. "Somehow this man has sensed my situation and is using it to try to get to me. Does he really think I am going to come to his hotel room? And giving me a safe word! What makes him think that I even know what a safe word is?"
"Are you OK?" asked the cashier, who was waiting patiently for Sonya to bring the bill and the money.
Sonya realized that she had been pacing back and forth in the dining area. "Oh, I'm fine. Just have a few things on my mind tonight. Here's the last money of the day."
The cashier and cook were quickly gone, and Sonya was left to clear the last dishes and lock up the restaurant. She performed these functions in a daze and then found herself in the lobby of the hotel. In spite of her trepidations, she was making note of the fact that the elevators were down the hall that led to the door to the employee parking area, and that she could easily get on an elevator without anyone seeing. It was like the fates were lining up to lead her on.
She started walking down the hall, still not knowing what she was going to do. To her surprise, when she got to the elevators she saw her arm extend and her finger push the UP button. "I didn't decide to do that," she thought.
Once in the elevator she knew she was going to go to room 412 and let happen whatever was going to happen. "Anything is better than continuing to live the way I am," she told herself.
Carl opened the door before she had even knocked. He had heard the elevator opening and had been watching through the peep hole in his door. From experience he knew that with a new woman it was important to keep the momentum going. Even though he sensed he was dealing with a woman who wanted to submit, he had learned that the slightest hesitation before he had established control could break the spell.
For Carl it was all a game of power. He was the alpha male in the jungle, building his harem to pass on his superior genes to as many sons and daughters as possible. Fortunately for him, his primitive instincts were matched by the unconscious instincts of many women to be dominated by a strong male, especially in the sexual arena. When he met a woman he thought might be susceptible, he would use his eyes and body language in subtle ways to let her know that she was being admired and desired. When talking with her, he would leave gaps of silence that would almost border on rudeness. A woman who had no interest would quickly find an excuse to back away, but the woman he wanted would linger just a little too long, as Sonya did in the coffee shop. Then he would issue an overt invitation for her to follow him. If she did, fine; if she didn't, no problem, he would find another.
With a job that required him to be traveling constantly, Carl was able to meet and establish some measure of control over women in a number of cities. The best part was what he called the "breaking-in" of new women like Sonya.
Sonya fit the profile of his easiest and most satisfying targets. She would not be called pretty by most men, but she was not unattractive, and she had a good figure. He was intrigued by the prodigious amount of auburn hair tucked up on her head. Also, he had sensed that she lacked excitement in her life and that she was drawn to strength.
"Come in, Sonya," he said, more in the nature of a command than an invitation.
Sonya walked into the room and heard the door closed and locked behind her. Carl had a large suite, with a separate bedroom. She found herself in the middle of a sitting room, with a couch, a desk, several upholstered chairs, and a small dining table. Two large crystal wine glasses stood on the table, next to opened bottles of red and white wine. A single, long-stemmed red rose also lay on the table. Sonya took all this in at a glance, and was impressed with Carl's confidence that she would come.
"You have a very nice room," she said, trying to act normally.
Carl walked to the table and picked up a glass. "Your first and only choice tonight is which wine you want, red or white."
"White," she said softly, realizing that she was not there to make small talk. In her anxious state, the offer of wine was very welcome.
He filled the glasses, white for her, red for him.
"Drink it all now," he said.
It took her over a minute to drink the entire glass. The warmth and loosening of tension spread through her body. He sipped his red wine and watched her.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.
He smiled for the first time. "I am going to bring out a part of you that you know is there, but are afraid to admit. You are free to leave anytime you want, but I don't think you will."
"Oh," was all she could manage to say.
He took the empty wine glass from her and placed it on the table. With his hand under her chin he raised her face to look up at him. Very slowly he bent down and brushed his lips across hers. She closed her eyes and gave him her lips, hoping he would continue.
He pulled back and looked at her. "As long as you are here you will call me 'sir', and you will do whatever I tell you. Is that understood?"
Sonya knew she had reached the point of no return and fought against feelings of panic. His eyes communicated such power and confidence. She was afraid, but the desire she felt was irresistible.
"Yes sir," she said, and then added, "I guess I just have to trust you."
"Yes," he replied, and he began to pull the pins out of her hair to let it fall around her shoulders. "You are lovelier than you know."
"Thank you, sir," she said. No one had ever said that to her before.
He took his time arranging her hair. Sonya knew that her hair was her best feature, and she was pleased that he admired it. When it was down around her face like this, it made her feel softer, more vulnerable. She was aware that somehow he knew this, because he kept fluffing her locks around her cheeks, like he was enclosing her in a box of her own hair.
At last he seemed satisfied. The way he looked at her made her feel that he wanted her.
"Come with me over to the table. I want to show you some things," he said.
She stood beside the table, and put down her empty glass. He put his glass beside hers and refilled them both.
"Sip slowly this time," he said. "I want you relaxed, but not too much."
Gratefully she took a swallow of the wine. It warmed her and suppressed the part of her that was still resisting.
He reached under the table and retrieved a small duffle bag. After placing it on the table, he slid back the zipper and reached inside. The first item he pulled out was a black leather riding crop. Without saying a word, he put the crop on the table in front of her.
"Oh my God," she breathed. "I can't believe this is really happening."
He watched her for a moment, and then extracted another item from the bag. This time is was a pair of padded wrist cuffs, complete with silver rings and a spring clasps for securing them together, or to some stationary object.
Sonya unconsciously began shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she contemplated the meaning of what she was seeing. She took another big swallow of the wine.
Again, he gave her a few moments, and then produced his next item: a two-flap leather paddle with a braided cord handle. In a sudden movement he struck the palm of his left hand with the paddle, making a loud slapping sound.
"Ohh!" said Sonya, her eyes wide. She felt a vicarious sting on her ass.
Carl gave her a knowing smile, and at the same time turned the paddle in his hand so that the braided handle was pointed at her. "I like to use both ends of this little toy," he said, as he slowly rotated the handle.
Sonya had no trouble imagining possible uses for the handle. "Oh my," was all she could say.
The next item was an incongruous surprise. Carl produced an old-fashioned fly swatter, the kind with a wire handle and a pad made of some kind of course fabric. Sonya could imagine the sting of that fabric on her body. She looked at Carl, but the return stare she received made her drop her eyes.
Carl again reached into the bag and began to remove a variety of sex toys, all in their original cellophane packaging. There were four or five vibrators of different sizes and shapes, a set of nipple clamps connected by a chain, several anal stimulation devices, and a fat wax candle.
Sonya took another big swallow of wine. "You can't be planning to use all of those things on me."
"Are you saying I can't?"
"No sir, I'm not saying that."
The last item in the bag was a gift-wrapped package. Carl put it on the table and looked at Sonya.
"Take this and go into the bedroom. In it you will find some special clothes I want you to wear. You are to put on these clothes, and nothing else. When you are ready, knock on the door."
Sonya took the box and crossed the room. She entered the bedroom and turned to look at Carl. "Can I have another glass of wine?"
"No. Close the door. I don't want to see you again until you are properly dressed."
The bedroom was very spacious, with a king-sized bed and two comfortable looking stuffed chairs. A large picture window outlined a spectacular view of the city. Sonya sat on the edge of the bed and unwrapped the package. One by one, she removed the items and put them on the bed.
She expected to find sexy underwear, but this lingerie was different from anything she had ever seen. The black bra was strapless, and had push-up half cups that had notches allowing the wearer's nipples to protrude. It was held together in the front with two bows that seem to invite pulling. The matching thong also had bows in the front, and along the sides. It was obvious that pulling all the bows would allow the thong to be removed without sliding it down the legs.
The outer garments consisted of a black mini-skirt, a low cut cream-colored silk blouse, and a pair of black, four inch heels.
Now that she was out of Carl's commanding presence, Sonya began to have second thought about what she was doing. Could she really trust this stranger not to hurt her? On the other hand, he did tell her she could leave anytime. These new clothes were sexy, but decent, and she could walk out in them if necessary.
While these thoughts were running through her brain, she noticed that her hands were busy removing her formless waitress uniform. There was obviously a part of her that couldn't wait to put on what Carl had given her. She grabbed the clothes off the bed and took them into the bathroom, where there was a full length mirror. It took only a few minutes for her to transform herself from a frumpy waitress into a sexy vamp.
She was pleased at how good her body looked, especially her breasts. The bra was incredible in the way it created an inviting cleavage, and her nipples could be clearly seen pushing against the silk blouse. As she moved, the friction of the rubbing made the nipples stiffen and protrude more.
Turning sideways to the full length mirror, she admired the way the high heels made her ass stick out from the rest of her body. The round form was tightly encased in the short skirt, and it looked very firm. She remembered a comment a friend had once made about her "bubble butt."
Quickly she fluffed her hair and studied her face in the mirror. She had no lipstick or other makeup with her, so it would have to do as it was. Carl probably was more interested in her other parts anyway.
She took her old clothes back into the bedroom to put them in the box. As she did so, she noticed that there was one more thing in the box. At first she thought it was a fancy bracelet, but then she realized it was a pair of elegantly designed wrist cuffs, made of very soft leather. Small gold rings on each cuff would allow them to be clipped together binding her hands.
"What the hell," she thought. "I've come this far." She slipped the cuffs over her wrists and pulled the little Velcro tabs that tightened them. Then before more worries could inhibit her, she walked to the bedroom door and knocked, just as she had been instructed.
"Come in, Sonya," said Carl.
She opened the door and walked proudly into the sitting room. So preoccupied with observing Carl's appraisal of her, she failed at first to notice the other man seated on the couch. When she finally saw him, she gasped.
"Ohhh," she stammered. "Who is this?"
"Never mind," said Carl, standing up to face her. "Walk over here to me."
There were those eyes again. They held her and made her temporarily forget the other man. She walked slowly up to Carl, carefully balancing on the highest heels she had ever worn.
Carl looked her over and smiled. "I knew there was a sexy woman under that waitress uniform," he said.
He took her shoulders and turned her so that he could admire her from the side and the back. When her back was to him, he pulled her wrists back and placed a clip in the rings, effectively tying her hands behind her back.
Sonya was now facing the other man, who was sitting calmly in on the couch watching her with great interest. She saw that he was very good looking, and quite young, probably a college boy in his late teens or early twenties. With his curly brown hair and brown eyes, and his perfectly proportioned six foot body, she thought he would be a coed's dream date.
"Sonya, I would like you to meet my nephew, Nick," said Carl. "I have invited him here to teach him a few things. I assume that is OK with you?"
As he asked the question, Carl wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back. At the same time the finger tips on his other hand brushed lightly across her lightly covered nipples.
"Yes sir," was all she could think to say.
At his age, Nick was driven by his sexual desires. He could never get enough, and he was more than willing to meet up with his Uncle Carl at every opportunity. Carl liked to involve him in his domination games, because Nick was very potent—he was big, hard as a rock, and could come four times in four hours.
"Come over here, Nick, and help me determine how well these clothes are fitting," said Carl.
As Nick got up to walk across the room, Carl went behind Sonya, put his hands on her upper arms, and pulled her shoulders back. With her hands tied behind her and her shoulders back, her breasts were thrust forward pointing at Nick.
"See how tight the blouse is," he said to Nick.
Nick wasted no time running his hands over Sonya's breasts and slipping his fingers down inside the blouse. He could feel her hard nipples pressing into his palms.
"Ahhh," Sonya inhaled deeply and twisted slightly in Carl's grasp.
"The blouse is very tight, Uncle Carl," said Nick. "Maybe I should undo a button or two."
"Good idea, Nick," responded Carl, who had his head down nuzzling Sonya's neck and looking down at her breasts from behind. "Undo all but the last two buttons."
With the buttons undone, the blouse opened almost to Sonya's waist, and her bra-covered breasts were very much on display. The half cups with the notches kept them thrust up and out, but hid very little. The effect was entirely erotic.
"Feel the texture of her nipple," said Carl.
Nick gently took her two nipples between his fingers and thumbs and rubbed the surfaces.
"Ohhh.. God," sighed Sonya.
"Now Nick, we could continue doing things like that to try to ignite the furnace in this fine body, but I detect an element of resistance in her. To get her really hot we have to eliminate all resistance and make her completely open and submissive, willing to do and experience anything. Are you ready to help me?"
"Of course, Uncle. How do we do it?" Nick asked, pretending he had never done this before, all the while moving his hands over her breasts, hips, and ass.
"With pain and humiliation. She will plead for the pain to stop, knowing that it leads to pleasure, and the humiliation will result in her no longer caring about how she appears. Once she is in that state, her most basic instincts will take over, and she will only want to please and be dominated."
Sonya shuddered, hearing them talk about her like she was some kind of laboratory experiment. At the same time, she was highly aroused by her helplessness and the way they were looking at and touching her body.
"The first thing we need to do is get her in the right position," said Carl. "Let' see."
Carl was very creative when it came to tying up women so that they were exposed and helpless. In the basement of his house he had constructed many ingenious devices that made it easy. However, it a hotel suite he had to make do with what was available. Of course, he had plenty of soft rope, and some easy-to-apply Velcro straps, but he wanted to do something more original that just tie this new woman to the bed. Surveying the room, his eyes stopped on a comfortable looking desk chair. It had a tall back, wide seat, and four sturdy chrome plated legs with no horizontal braces. He realized that if he turned this chair over so that the legs were in the air, with the top of the back and the front edge of the seat on the floor, it would make a kind of half circle. With a soft cushion over the top of the circle, a woman could be made to lay face down across it, between the legs of the chair. If her legs and back were tied to the chair, her ass would be positioned pointing almost straight up. Carl thought this would do nicely.