My Sweet Degradation (9 page)

A few minutes later he spoke again. ‘Hey, listen sis...' he began, and I looked up to see him sheepishly peering over the rim of his sunglasses. ‘About last night... I'm sorry for how they treated you.' An intense, itchy heat flooded my cheeks, but I simply tilted my head and offered him a quizzical smile in response. ‘In the den,' he continued. ‘They had no right to behave that way and then when they... well, you know. I should have stuck up for you, and if I hadn't been so drunk I would've kicked them out there and then. I'm afraid I must have passed out shortly after that.'

‘Hey, it's okay, Josh,' I said, reaching across the table to pat his hand. ‘We all make errors of judgement at times, and besides, boys like those two may be huge pains in the arse, but even they have their uses.'

‘Really?' Josh questioned, furrowing his brow. ‘Like what?'

‘Oh, I don't know, but I have the strangest feeling there'll be something those two have got going for them, even if they
are
just a pair of pricks,' I replied, trying to disguise my grin behind another sip of coffee.

 

 

 

Emma swiped the key-card in the lock and turning around, she pushed the door open with her behind. She entered the room backwards, resignedly dragging the cart in her wake. The curtains had not been fully drawn and the room was well lit by the morning sun. As a consequence, Emma didn't bother to reach for the light switch.

Continuing on her way she stepped further into the room, passing by the bathroom and then on into the main sleeping area. With a hiss followed by a soft metallic click, the door swung shut and Emma was left alone – or so she believed.

Emma took a cursory scan of the room in search of the TV remote control so that she might have one of the music stations playing while she set about her work, but turning towards the bed she suddenly gasped with horror, her hand quickly reaching up to her lips in a vain attempt to stifle her cry. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid, that she hadn't noticed him before. Admittedly, there had been no
Do Not Disturb
sign hanging from the door handle, but really, she ought to have knocked before entering. But then, this was Emma's ninth room of the morning, so it was perhaps understandable that her concentration was waning a little.

Nervously Emma looked towards the man's face. His head was turned sideways on and his eyes were shut tight. She thanked her luck that he was still sleeping and prepared to sneak back out of the room when something quite inexplicable stopped her in her tracks. It was a tiny thrill that tingled throughout her body and made her feel strangely powerful. You see, Emma had a naughty streak, and it told her to do bad things just because she could, and it began to exert itself now.

She looked back towards the sleeping man. He was certainly handsome, early to mid thirties she would have guessed. His hair was dark, well styled yet inevitably tousled through sleep. His morning stubble was dark across a strong jaw-line and high cheekbones, and his lips were ever so slightly parted so that Emma could just make out perfectly straight white teeth. Her eyes scanned lower.

The man's chest was naked and lay fully exposed. Emma felt a tiny electrical charge of excitement, and if she had only stopped to question it, she would have realized it meant trouble. He looked good; there was no doubt about that. He was slim and well toned, his muscles subtly sculpted rather than being overly bulky, and Emma nibbled her bottom lip as she watched his torso rise and fall as he slept.

And her gaze slid lower still.

A single cotton sheet lay draped across the man's hips, and her eyes followed the wispy line of dark hair that led down from his naval and beneath the bed linen, to hint at what lay below. She observed the outline of his strong legs, one straight, the other bent at the knee. It really wasn't Emma's fault – she couldn't help herself, it was there for anyone to see – but as her eyes finally fell upon the outline of what looked like a thick, semi-erect cock resting heavily against his thigh, she swallowed breathlessly and stared.

Emma's heart raced and the rational part of her mind was screaming out at her to leave, but unfortunately it was too late for that. Mischievous Emma was in control now, and she knew she just had to take a tiny, little peek.

Creeping to the side of the bed she carefully bent forward. It was almost as though her hand was possessed with a mind of its own as she watched it slowly inch its way towards him, her thumb and forefinger delicately pinching a fold in the sheet in readiness to lift it away.

Emma could smell the heat of the man's naked body and it caused her pulse to quicken further. It was thick and warm; no cologne, no moisturizer, just a simple clean scent. He must have showered before bed, but he smelled of... well, he smelled like a man and Emma liked it.

Lower still she drew the sheet, exposing the naked flesh of his lower abdomen. She swallowed hard and licked her lips as she followed the defined line where his pelvic muscles led inward in a discernable ‘V'.

Emma allowed her imagination to run wild. She wondered if he had enjoyed sex the night before; if he'd hired a call girl – as she knew so many of the guests did – and fucked her hard before sending her on her way five hundred pounds richer.

She wondered if he'd picked up some tart at one of the nearby nightclubs and licked her pussy before calling a cab for her. She felt a tiny pulsating between her thighs as she drew the sheet still further away.

She blinked and released a tiny, involuntary moan from the back of her throat as she finally exposed his thick cock. It was quite beautiful really, all soft and heavy against his thigh, and it was as large as any she had seen before. It looked so wonderfully smooth, a single strong vein running underneath, and she studied its entire length from the base to the swell of its scarlet head.

Emma couldn't stop herself from wondering what it might look like when fully aroused, what it might feel like against her soft palm if only she dared to hold it. She even went on to consider what it might taste like if she was to take it into her mouth, and her body throbbed with a deep yearning...

But unfortunately for poor Emma she didn't get the chance to imagine how it might feel to have this stranger's erect cock slowly push its way between her pussy lips before sliding deep inside her.

Yelping, she let go of the sheet and tried to pull away, but it was no good; the strong hand that closed around her wrist gripped so tightly and escape was quite impossible.

 

Emma had only been working at the hotel for a matter of weeks, and she certainly had no intention of staying there for very much longer. The job was no more than a necessary evil as she had big plans to go backpacking around Europe, yet needed to earn some serious cash in order to enjoy herself in the manner she felt she deserved. But for all that hotel work was boring, and on occasions rather unpleasant, the money was actually pretty good. And besides, there had always been something of the voyeur about Emma and she rather enjoyed being able to take a secret peek into the bedroom antics of other people – some of them pretty rich and powerful.

Home for the time being was a very chic boutique class hotel. It was the kind of place where the famous and the infamous could carry out their numerous indiscretions in an atmosphere of absolute privacy. The hotel was very sexy, and in keeping with this, so too were the staff. And by way of a reward for their appearance and tact, they were paid a far higher wage than they would be for comparable work at most other establishments.

Upon taking up her position Emma had been issued with her uniform – a couple of rather short black silk skirts, and several tailored, slightly transparent white cotton blouses. At first she had thought about trading her blouses in for the next size up, but as she noticed the other girls with their tight tops and pert breasts proudly jutting out, the old schoolgirl rivalry kicked in and she simply released an extra button to show just a little more cleavage.

Like many young women Emma had a passion, only in her case it was not for expensive handbags or designer shoes. No, Emma simply adored fine lingerie. And on this particular morning she was wearing a beautiful black lace combination she'd spent a fortune on while holidaying in Italy the previous year. It was one of those days when she'd woken feeling rather playful, and as she dressed she would have liked nothing more than to have worn her sheer stockings, a suspender belt and no panties at all, even if no one but her got to know about it. But unfortunately the hotel rules clearly stated that legs had to remain bare during the summer months and so, in the end, she opted for a tiny black lace thong that showed off her toned bottom to perfection, and a pretty matching bra.

Even before starting work Emma could feel her excitement mounting as she stared at herself in her bedroom mirror, twisting first one way and then the other to admire her curves, and she even toyed with the idea of letting her fingers have a little play, but she was running dangerously late as it was, so she quickly slipped into the rest of her uniform and headed off down to the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee.

 

Poor Emma tried to pull back but it was no good, she was held fast. Whimpering, she looked down and the man stared back up at her, two cobalt-blue eyes boring into her and a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

‘Please, sir, I'm terribly sorry,' she babbled. ‘I... I didn't know you were here. I was just going to clean the room when I saw you and... and I was just about to leave and...'

The man's smile broadened further. ‘That's not exactly all you were about to do, now is it?' he said with calm amusement, his voice rich and deep.

‘I
am
sorry, sir, honest. Please let me go. I don't know what came over me. I'll... I'll go away and come back and clean later. Please,' she pleaded, feeling her cheeks burn scarlet with humiliation and her heart beat wildly within her chest.

‘Relax,' the man said soothingly, but his grip remained vice-like around her wrist. ‘What's your name?'

She bowed her head meekly. ‘It's Emma, sir,' she whispered, peering down at him through long lashes and feeling as though she was back at school, standing before her formidable headmaster.

‘Well...
Emma
,' he began, taunting her, ‘you have absolutely nothing to worry about...' He looked down to where his slumbering cock lay naked and exposed, and in doing so he tricked Emma into following his gaze. She felt her cheeks flush deeper still, and when she looked up at his face once more that cruel grin had returned.

‘Oh please let me go, sir,' she begged. ‘Really, I'm very sorry.' Emma jerked her bodyweight backwards, but his hold remained just as firm as ever.

‘Of course I'm going to let you go, silly,' he said, ‘just as soon as you've been taught a little lesson. You look like a bright girl, Emma. Surely you can understand that you must be punished?' All of a sudden the man swung himself from the bed, spinning Emma around and twisting her arm up painfully behind her back, and with his free hand he grabbed her other wrist and wrenched that back too.

‘Ouch!' Emma cried. ‘That hurts!'

Ignoring her gasps of pain and indignation he pushed her across the room until her thighs met the edge of the beautiful oak writing table, but he didn't stop there, and his bodyweight continued to bear down on her so she was forced to bend forward from the waist, her arms burning as her breasts pressed down against the desktop, the breath squeezed from her lungs.

Emma felt the man take both her wrists in one strong hand, and try as she might the way he held her meant it was simply too painful for her to resist. With his free hand he reached for the hem of her skirt, dragging it up to leave it gathered uselessly around her waist.

Emma let out a frightened whimper as she felt his fingers grab the waistband of her thong, tearing the soft lace and burning her flesh as he yanked it down across her thighs. ‘No, please!' she cried as he kicked her ankles with his bare feet, forcing her legs even wider apart and allowing her ruined underwear to fall down around one ankle.

‘Come now, Emma,' he said, his voice calm and authoritative. ‘Come now. You must learn to take responsibility for your actions. You behaved in a way in which you had no right to, and now you deserve to be punished.'

A loud crack suddenly shattered the quiet of the room, and Emma squealed with the searing pain that shot through her bottom. She instinctively tried to rise, but his body weight continued to bear down upon her so that resistance was quite impossible. Another slap quickly followed the first, and then another, and the realization that this man, this stranger, was actually spanking her bare backside by way of a punishment was almost as shocking as the stinging pain his palm elicited.

‘Ouch! Stop it, please!' Emma cried, and she squirmed on the desk as best she could, but her protests were entirely ignored and he continued to rain slap after slap down upon her poor, burning bottom.

‘What's the matter, Emma?' she heard him taunt. ‘You think you're too big for a good spanking? Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you started sneaking around where you had no right to be.'

‘No, I'm sorry, it's just... ouch! Please,' but Emma's words were utterly useless and she felt her poor cheeks sting with an intensity she had never known.

She gritted her teeth and she furrowed her brow. There was absolutely nothing she could do to lessen the force of his tightly held fingers as they began to smack upward, lifting her cheeks with the force of each strike and causing her body to throb with an itchy heat. Emma found herself tensing the muscles of her backside with every strike, and in a way that forced her to grind her abdomen hard against the table edge.

‘I must say, Emma,' the man offered, in far too relaxed a tone, ‘you do have just about the prettiest bottom I have ever had the pleasure to spank, and as for that tight pussy of yours...'

‘No, please!' she gasped, once more brought back to the full extent of her exposure; the way she'd been forced to bend flat upon the desk, and the way her legs had been unceremoniously parted wide, meant that her tormentor had the perfect view of her naked pussy from above and behind, and the idea that he might have plans beyond her spanking caused her to chew anxiously upon her lower lip and to dig her nails into her palms.