The Doll Hotel 2: Be Careful What You Wish For

In the morning I headed down to reception, my head still full of memories from the night before. I could think of nothing else but sex and tight, shiny rubber.

Reality was intent on rearranging my priorities. Standing in front of the receptionist's desk, I felt nervous and somehow inadequate. Once again, she fixed me with that smile. All I could think was that she knew I was staring at her breasts. As always, she had the lights off above her, with only the tiny desk lamp illuminating her face. I could hardly see her breasts in the dim light, but I could see enough. My imagination did the rest, perhaps too well.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," I echoed. I was thankful for the darkness as it hid my embarrassment at my feeble reply.

"I'm sorry to speak this to you, but on the telephone we have had a problem with your credit card," she said. Her slight accent and the odd timing of her words made everything sound very serious.

"Oh. What problem? I'm sure it's nothing more than an error," I said, trying to sound confident, but I wasn't sure.

"There is a stop on your card. This is a problem regarding funds for payment of your bill... Ongoing," She added disjointedly.

"I see. Perhaps I need to call the card-company and sort this out? Is that alright?" I said despondently. Not only was I a dork, but I was a dork who couldn't pay his bills: not too impressive.

"Yes, please do. Our urge is always to take care of our guests," she said. I guessed she meant that their mission statement was always to put their guest's comfort first, but her English wasn't quite there.

"Can you tell me how much is owing?" I asked, wondering if I had enough cash to cover it.

"Yes, just one moment please," she said. She tapped away on a keyboard hidden beneath the desktop.

I waited, still nervous. I wanted to touch those breasts beneath their tight black restraining jumper. Then she named a sum that got my full attention. It was obviously a mistake, no hotel could charge that much for just a few days – or if it tried, it would certainly be illegal, particularly in my own unfortunate situation. After all, I didn't choose to visit this place deliberately.

"Are you sure that's correct?" I asked. "I mean, you can't possibly charge that much for just three nights. Does your system think I was calling long distance for all of that time or something?"

She studied me seriously, "It is correct. We do not make mistakes. The price is necessary for the special services we charge here."

"What services? I haven't had anything special, a few meals and a couple of local calls maybe. What's going on here?" I couldn't believe how strange this all was. I was angry, but the peculiarity of it all was making me somewhat afraid too.

"Really? I think you have. You cannot pay can you? That is correct?" She sounded even more serious than her usual dour tone. I was stuck here. What could I do?

I sighed and nodded. "You are correct. There isn't even any point discussing that sum with my credit card company. I'm not at all surprised they refused it. It doesn't seem reasonable though. Whatever your normal charges, I didn't end up here out of choice. It's extortion to charge me so much when I'm stuck here because of the snow. It's an outrageous price. And as for special services, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" She said again. "I think you are not admitting to something."

I shrugged, "You're talking in riddles… Anyway, what do you intend? You can't mean to throw me out: they'd be digging out my frozen corpse when the snowplough comes."

"Of course," she said, almost angry. "We are not murderers! No, we take very seriously the care of all that come here. Always full attention is given." She paused, regaining her composure. "You accept then that you cannot, or will not pay?"

"I suppose I must, but I don't accept that your charge is fair or reasonable, and can't possibly be legal," I said as firmly as I could muster. I hoped she couldn't see my sweat.

"It is fixed then, this will be your outcome: you will be employed here until all your debts are finished. We will set terms. You will sign a binding contract," she said firmly. It sounded a lot like an ultimatum.

"Um, I don't know about this. It doesn't sound very fair…" She didn't let me finish. I was going to say it wasn't legal either. No contract signed under duress could stand.

"No! There will be no argument. You will do this easily or we will make it a shock for you. Do not imagine there is any alternative. There is no respect for men who do not pay their bills here."

"You can't make me do this. Are you threatening me?" I didn't like the sound of any of this. Now she was just being rude. My whole body was trembling. I didn't know if it was anger or fear. I gripped the edge of the desk to try and conceal it.

"Here, sign," she said, pushing papers in front of me. "Do you agree? Or shall I call for help?"

"Um, what?" I said, stalling, my eyes staring at the papers but taking in nothing. It was all written in incomprehensible legal German anyway.

"Make your decision. You have been long enough. It will be better for you if we must not compel you," she hesitated, then whispered, "It is best to not make trouble. If not for the snow I would say run now, take your chance." The way she looked at me, she seemed unafraid, but the terror in her whisper was unarguable.

"What? What do you mean?" I stalled.

"Sign!" She barked loudly, then whispering, "I am trying to help. It is best not to fight them. Please, this is all I can do. If they know I helped you I will be punished."

There was something in her frightened whisper that decided it for me. Whatever they intended, it would probably go easier for now if I signed the papers. Once the weather had changed for the better and I could get out of here I could reassess things.

"OK. I'll sign. Show me where," I sighed.

"Here... Here... Here..." She flipped through the paperwork. "Remember, you are now most inferior employee: you must do as you are told. You must act immediately. You must work hard. If you fail you will be punished."

"What do you mean punished?" I said.

"You must try hard. Try hard not to discover punishments," she said, and for an instant I saw an expression on her face, and a sort of movement of her head that conveyed the awfulness of the threatened punishment to me. I knew I would do a great deal to avoid it.

A few seconds of silence passed between us. I shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Give me your key," she eventually demanded.

I handed over the key card. She typed some things into the computer, and a few moments later she handed the key back to me.

"You are now Twenty Two. This is your identification. The way to your new room is through the doorway behind me. Follow the corridor. Go down the stairs. Go through the door in front of you. Your room is at the corridor end." She looked at her screen again, then back at me. "You are to now go to your room Twenty Two. Go there and wait until you are collected. Do not do anything else that you have not been told to do."

I hesitated. She gave me a look that clearly meant "Get moving before you get in trouble." So I hurried off, exactly as she instructed.

I couldn't think clearly. I was in a sort of panic. The situation had turned from strange to downright scary. I had no idea what I had got myself into, but I felt sure that it couldn't be good. I knew there had to be a way out of this, but I couldn't focus my thoughts to think of it because my nerves were so rattled. Unable to make a better plan, I followed instructions.

My card opened the mahogany-panelled door behind the receptionist and admitted me to a dimly lit corridor with a spotless white tiled floor. The doors here were stainless steel, and the effect was forbidding and ominous. The atmosphere seemed overly warm and humid despite metal air conditioning vents in the ceiling.

I descended the stairs with their non-slip rubber surface, and with my keycard, opened the heavy stainless steel door that was facing me. My trepidation was increasing, but behind the door was just another corridor like the first I had entered.

The concealed lighting was very dim and I had to examine each door carefully to determine which of them was Twenty Two. The door opened to my key card in almost exactly the same way as my old room's door.

The room amounted to a tiny cell about two metres by two and a half metres. A bed/bench extended smoothly from the opposite wall. There appeared to be some cupboard doors below, allowing access to a storage space. The walls and the bench were covered with thick white rubberised paint. The floor had the same spotless white tiles of the hallway, with the addition of a drainage grille set in the centre of the room. Light came from a square panel set into a ceiling that was otherwise identical to the walls.

I pulled the door closed behind me with a loud click and sat down on the bench to wait. The surface of the bench was softer than I expected. I was almost looking forward to meeting somebody new, as it felt like I'd been alone now for several days, apart from a few moments with the receptionist.

Now that I had a chance to think I tried to calm myself and take stock of my situation. I didn't like the look of this tiny bare room at all, more like a police cell than a hotel room. There was no way I would be staying here, that was certain. I bolstered my confidence by thinking that I was sure to get out of this soon: it was all a mistake, or the hotel management were acting illegally and their claims would be void.

That last thought worried me though: if the management were prepared to act illegally regarding the bill, then they might be prepared to do other illegal things. I became afraid they had something sinister in mind, and that I might disappear, never to be seen again.

I imagined I might sit for some significant length of time before someone came to deal with me. Instead it was a matter of minutes before that happened. I had barely begun to control my panic and was still extremely flustered and nervous.

I didn't know what I expected to see when the door opened. It was almost inevitable that the white garbed figure that was framed there would come as some kind of surprise. She was tall, dressed in a long, medical styled white coat and her coal black hair was fastened back in a severe bun.

I stood up as she entered, but she was still a good six inches taller than I was.

"Welcome to our house Number Twenty Two. I am Number Three. You may call me 'Lehrerin' or 'Mistress Three'. No other form of address is appropriate. I will speak English to you for now, as I understand that you do not speak much German. I will warn you now that I do not look kindly on laziness or tolerate a lack of appropriate enthusiasm. However, I am a reasonable person, and I do not expect miracles. Just follow my instructions promptly and accurately and you will begin to earn my appreciation. I do not expect you to be clever, but I do expect you to be obedient. Do you understand?"

I had some idea that a lehrer was a word for teacher or schoolmaster, but I was later to learn that ‘The Lehrerin’ affected her title as a joke on the fact that she used to be a respected professor of biotechnology. I confess I never came to fully understand her sense of humour because it seemed that in most of my encounters with her she did the job of a medical doctor rather than a schoolmarm, which of course can be said as ‘mistress’ in English, very different to the honorific Mistress spoken as ‘herrin’ in German. I believe a lot of the multilingual wordplay going on in the hotel went over my head, with the language of choice as often as not a kind of muddle of English, Dutch and German that I struggled to follow.

"Um, you know I'm not sure I should really be here... Erm, well, I think there's been some sort of mistake," I mumbled.

Mistress Three did not like this at all and the force of her angry cry was enough to make me step back. I almost stumbled as I bumped into the edge of the bench.

"No! It seems you do not understand. I am to be addressed correctly and you are to answer only yes or no. I did not ask you to be sure or to think. Do not imagine you are here by mistake. We do not make mistakes. You are supposed to be here and you are here." She paused for a minute only to blast out a deafening, "Now! Do you understand?"

The look on her face was furious. She had got herself quite worked up. I was terrified. I had no idea what might happen or what she might do next.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "umm... Mistress Three. Yes. I understand."

"Good," she said, and smiled coldly, pausing for effect. "Now follow me."

With the heels of her white stiletto boots clicking rhythmically against the tiles, she led me through a maze of doors and corridors, much like the others I had seen. The doors opened for her without a card, though I had no idea how this worked.

We arrived in a huge room that looked like some kind of hospital built by someone with a fetish for spotless white tiles. Stainless steel trolleys were pushed against the walls; some filled with trays of instruments. All kinds of complex looking medical apparatus was positioned around the room.

We were in a kind of spacious glass cubicle that separated us from all that, while allowing people in the room to look in on us. In the centre of this cubicle was an intimidating and rather complicated examining table.

"Remove your clothes and push them through that hatch into the bin," said Mistress Three. She gestured to a hole in the clear wall that was about six inches across. On the other side of the wall a black plastic tub was positioned to receive anything pushed through the hole.

I began to ask if this was really necessary, and then stopped myself. I could tell by her expression that this would not be a wise course of action. I felt like a coward, but there was something in the demeanour of Mistress Three that made me instantly fearful of inciting her anger.

Blushing with embarrassment and staring determinedly at the floor I stripped down to my underpants and pushed my clothes through the hole as she had asked. I hesitated at the last step. Surely, she didn't intend for me to be completely naked? Mistress Three made a small impatient sound, and I quickly yanked off the pants and stuffed them through the hole.

I stood up straight, though my eyes were still focussed on the floor. I didn't know what to do with my hands. My arms hung awkwardly at my sides.

At that point the door opened. I let out a small squeak of surprise. Framed in the doorway and smirking at my discomfort was a nurse. At least, she was dressed somewhat along the lines of a nurse. She wore a short, pale green dress that came to just above her knees. It was short sleeved and had white cuffs and collar. A white nurse's cap decorated her pageboy hair.

My eyes dropped down, past her curvaceous cleavage to look at her flat white shoes. She closed the door behind her. Something seemed wrong about her outfit, and Mistress Three’s too. I couldn't figure out what it was. They didn't give me much time for introspection. It can be tricky to think things through when you are naked in front of two strange and very beautiful women.

"Your timing is perfect Nurse Five," said Mistress Three. "You can trim Number Twenty Two's head."

"Sit there," ordered Mistress Three, pointing to a low stool. It was far too small, but I squatted down on it anyway, feeling very foolish.

My eyes were now level with Nurse Five's crotch. She had collected a set of electric clippers from the examining table, and now came up behind me. I glanced around to look at her and she gently steered my head back so I was looking forward.

She was wearing rubber medical gloves. I could feel the warmth of her hands through the thin latex. The smell of it was very powerful. Now I knew what had seemed wrong, it had been right there in front of me: both she and Mistress Three were wearing rubber clothes. Their outfit's looked almost normal, but they weren't.

"Hold still," said Nurse Five.

She methodically and remorselessly trimmed my hair down to stubble with the clippers. It was almost a pleasant sensation, but I felt very small and childish, sitting hunched up on the little stool. My already short hair was soon just a scattering of dark clumps on the otherwise spotless white tiles.

I felt somewhat cooler without my hair. I was thankful for the warmth of the room now, though the humidity was still more than I preferred. I had a temptation to rub my head, but I was afraid to move without permission.

"Wash in here," said Nurse Five, walking over to a shower stall in the corner of the glass cubicle.

A glass panel had been added to keep the water from splashing all over, with the inner corners of the cube making the other two walls of the stall. There was no door, and the entire floor of the shower was a drainage grille. I walked into it and paused, looking for some taps or a means to start the water. There was nothing but the showerhead above me.

Nurse Five passed me a bottle of thick white shampoo. It smelled foul and medicinal.

"Cover yourself in the soap thoroughly. Do not miss any part, especially on your face or head. Keep your eyes tightly closed or it will burn," said the nurse.

I wanted to complain and stop all this, but it was far too late for that. I was now naked and shaved in a shower stall. This really didn't seem like a good time to argue. Nonetheless, I hesitated for a moment. It must have seemed like too much of a delay to the impatient nurse.

"Now! Hurry up!" Demanded the nurse. She wasn't as frightening as Mistress Three, but I knew that if I didn't obey I would soon have her to answer to as well.

I quickly started smothering myself in the stuff from the bottle. After a short while it started to itch uncomfortably. By the time I had covered myself, the more sensitive parts of my skin felt like they were burning. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see: I had my eyes screwed tight shut, and I knew that I certainly didn't want this foul stuff getting into them.

I felt terribly vulnerable. I wanted to say something. I wanted to explain how this stuff was burning me. I didn't know how to address the nurse, and I knew Mistress Three would not want to hear me. I felt so helpless that I began to whimper. It was all I could do to communicate my pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt a gloved hand taking the bottle from me. In its place I was given a thick, flat piece of rubber with one sharp edge.

"Now, scrape off all your hair as you rinse under the shower," said Nurse Five.

She turned on the shower, and I gave a sigh of relief as the blast of hot water hit me. At last I could start getting this horrible goo off my body. It had thickened in contact with the air, and the scraper was very useful for removing it.

I did my head, eyes and face first. All my bodily hair came away too as I scraped off the depilatory. As I rinsed away the last of it, I finally dared to open my eyes and could see I was completely hairless. My skin felt raw and very sore, though there were no visible signs of burning. The sensitive skin around my face, genitals, and anus was the most painful.

The nurse stopped the water and handed me a rough white towel. I was so thankful for it. As I wiped my face dry, I realised that I must no longer have any eyebrows. I no longer even had eyelashes: everything was gone. I felt more naked than I ever had before in my life. It's hard to explain what it feels like to be so bald, hairless and unnatural. Even a baby has fine hair on the body, but I had nothing.

Once I was dry, I found that Mistress Three's attention was on me once again. As Nurse Five took the towel from me, Mistress Three began to speak.

"It is necessary to make sure that you are properly clean in all respects. We ensure proper hygiene at all times here for the benefit of all staff and guests," she recited.

I had no idea what she intended next. How could I get any cleaner? I'd just come from the harshest shower I'd ever experienced. Surely there was nothing else?

"You will now have further cleansing and examination. Lie on the table face up, and place your arms and legs in the rests provided," ordered Mistress Three.

In a daze, I clambered onto the table. It was padded, but even the padding was unyielding and hard to the touch. The positions for my arms and legs were clearly marked. My feet hooked into stirrups.

Together, Mistress Three and Nurse Five secured my wrists in place with padded Velcro restraints before I had even realised it. I gasped in fear. Silently they secured my ankles with similar straps. I was spread completely helpless on the cold examining table.

Nurse Five released a lever on the table, and swung my legs apart. The end of my body was hanging off the edge of the table, and there was a recess that gave clear access to my bottom, which was now feeling very exposed.

Naked, bald, strapped in position on this cold, unyielding table, with my most private parts exposed to scrutiny, I felt utterly helpless and insignificant. That I was so blatantly on display to two women was making me very embarrassed. I flushed a bright red. I had no idea where to look. I had no idea what to think. I just wanted to crawl away and hide in a dark place, but I was fixed under harsh bright lights that stripped everything bare.

What disturbed me the most, and what made me the most shameful, was that in some way I was enjoying this. Not only had I co-operated in it without complaint, I was experiencing a powerful sensation of excitement.

It was incredibly thrilling to put myself in the power of these two rubber clad medical stuff. What is more, it was a forbidden thrill. The mixture of guilt and rising excitement was overwhelming. That I had put myself in a position where I could no longer escape or back out made it all the more powerful.

Glancing down I saw some kind of readout that seemed to show my weight: a mere sixty-nine kilos.

I felt a sharp pain in my arm as Mistress Three took a large blood sample. At the same time Nurse Five inserted a lubricated, rubberised finger into my anus. Despite myself I felt my penis hardening. Oh, the humiliation! She was giving me a thorough anal exam and I was obviously aroused by it. Any protest I made about my treatment now would sound pitifully hollow.

"Oh, I see you like that," commented Nurse Five. I did not dare respond.

Mistress Three took another blood sample, and then used an inflatable cuff to take my blood pressure.

Meanwhile, Nurse Five was attaching something to the end of a clear plastic tube. I had no idea what it was for. Then I felt her press something into my bottom again, but not her finger: it was solid plastic. My penis gave a little jerk; it was hard as a rock. It felt like my cheeks were glowing with shame. I stared up at the lights so I wouldn't catch her eye. I heard her noisily replacing her gloves.

"Open your mouth," ordered Mistress Three.

I did so, and she forcefully inserted a hinged device of surgical steel and abruptly ratcheted it open, forcing my mouth wide. I tried to tell her there was no need to do so, but I could make only an incomprehensible noise.

"Silence!" She ordered sharply, and grabbed my tongue with a pair of pincers, pulling it out and peering down into my throat. She made it clear how hard she could pull if I made more noise.

Despite the threat I couldn't help but make a noise of pain, though I tried desperately not to. I struggled to close my mouth, but it was futile: it was firmly locked open. Mistress Three cruelly gave the device another ratchet, forcing it even wider. Now it was really uncomfortable. My jaw ached from the stretch.

Nurse Five brushed her gloved hand over my rigid penis, and at the same time I heard her squeeze something. I felt a movement in my bottom. She gave a few more squeezes and I could feel something inflating inside me. She ran her hand slowly over my penis, and the end seeped a tiny drip. She pumped some more. Whatever was in my ass was getting big.

"Mmm, you really enjoy this in your ass don't you?" Said Nurse Five?

I shook my head feebly, whimpering. No other answer was possible.

"Oh I think you do. And I think you're going to love what's coming next," she said seductively.

I couldn't even shake my head because at that moment Mistress Three grabbed hold of my jaw and began to examine my mouth and throat with a tongue depressor and a small inspection lamp. She made some notes on her computer while Nurse Five inflated something that was outside my sphincter, but which now pressed very tightly against it. My anal passage was thoroughly blocked.

Nurse Five then lifted up a heavy bag of liquid and hung it on a support that was part of the table. She adjusted a valve, and suddenly I felt a rush of warmth inside me. I gave an incoherent yelp of fear and waved my hands weakly in their restraints.

Mistress Three laughed, "That's such a sweet reaction to the enema. Our new girl is going to love working here."

Nurse Five nodded deferentially, "Yes Lehrerin, you are always right. She will be perfect."

I had no idea who they were talking about. Was there someone else involved in all this? I couldn't concentrate on thinking about anything but the warm rush into my bowels. The liquid from the bag had to be pouring into me.

I had heard about this so called enema procedure before, but had never experienced it. I had certainly never imagined it would be so distracting, so pleasant, or so humiliating.

Both Mistress Three and Nurse Five had moved out of my field of vision, and suddenly I felt nervous and alone. The flood in my bowels was starting to become painful and I was sweating profusely. I could feel the beginning of a cramp coming on. I felt a powerful urge to break wind or defecate, but it was impossible. I felt very bloated and it kept getting worse.

Nurse Five walked back into view and began to gently massage my belly with a gloved hand. It eased the pain somewhat. I noticed her breasts were squeezed so tightly into her rubber dress that I could see her nipples standing out.

A single finger of her other hand traced down the length of my penis. I was in considerable pain and the sweat was pouring off me, but at that moment all I could think about was Nurse Five's beautiful breasts and how much I wanted to cum all over them. I panted for breath like a woman in labour - my jaws still levered open painfully wide.

Nurse Five caught the bead of pre-cum from the end of my penis with her fingertip and saucily wiped it off on my tongue.

"Mmm. Doesn't that taste lovely?" She said, her voice low and charged with lust.

"Don't get her over excited Nurse Five, I don't want to have to punish our new girl for any messy little accidents … or you," said Mistress Three from behind me.

Nurse Five stepped back quickly as if given a shock. Her eyes shot down to the floor and she bobbed a curtsey, "Yes Lehrerin. I'm sorry Lehrerin."

"Of course you are," said Mistress Three, "now finish the enema. It will probably take at least two more to clean up such a dirty and unhygienic specimen."

Despite my distracted state, I thought I had been following the conversation. Apparently I had not, because once again it wasn't making any sense. I soon forgot all about it because the bloating pain was becoming overwhelming. I felt like I might throw up and my whole body was trying to spasm. My erection began to subside.

Nurse Five gently massaged my belly and it gurgled loudly, the pain subsiding somewhat.

"Lehrerin, the bag is empty now. How long shall I leave it?" She asked as she twisted the valve at my bottom.

"Ten minutes will do. I am still checking her bloodwork, so you can measure her now," responded Mistress Three.

For what must have been just ten minutes, but seemed like far longer, Nurse Five made careful measurements of every part of my body and noted them down on a clipboard. For every one of those minutes my belly was gurgling painfully while I tensed and sweated.

Finally, the nurse disconnected the tube from my backside and pulled out a rack with a plastic tub attached, which I could just see if I craned my neck. It was situated between my legs, centred under my anus.

When she adjusted the valve, I felt the water shooting out of me. I couldn't help but bear down because of the cramps wracking my body. With each convulsion I could hear the spurting and splattering of the more solid bits as they hit the bottom of the tub. It sounded terrible, and it didn't smell very pleasant either.

I felt completely violated. Oh, but the relief was incredible. My erection returned at the very moment my watery shit was spraying into a plastic bowl. I felt my eyes watering with shame. How could I ever face these people as an equal?

When I was finally empty I discovered that the whole procedure was to be repeated again, this time without the cock teasing from Nurse Five. By the time it was over I felt battered. After it was repeated for a third time I was shattered and exhausted.

My jaw was in agony, I couldn't speak, and honestly I had nothing left to say. My erection had faded and showed no signs of return. If there had been any fight in me before, it was gone now.

The next indignity involved Mistress Three injecting something into my buttocks. There seemed to be several injections. The sharp pain was still fading from my bottom when she sprayed something into my mouth and down my throat that tasted like disinfectant and sent it numb. It was actually a relief as it took away most of the pain, but my whole mouth felt enormous and swollen with a sort of Novocain sensation. Then she removed the jaw clamp and I was finally able to close my mouth. Despite the spray it still hurt far too much to speak. I had many questions but it wasn't the pain that stopped me asking; I simply did not dare to. Considering the way my mouth felt I probably couldn't anyway, but I didn't even try.

"The examination and cleansing are complete. Get her off there and into uniform," Mistress Three said to Nurse Five, ignoring me completely. "I will send a maid with her clothes. Make her give you any assistance you need, and let me know if anything doesn't go smoothly, no matter how small a matter. That also means you must not play with her. Do you understand?"

"Yes Lehrerin. I understand Lehrerin," bobbed Nurse Five.

Then Mistress Three left and Nurse Five unstrapped me from the table. I was wobbly on my feet and she had to help hold me up for a time before I was able to stand properly. By the time I was able to stand by myself, the maid had arrived with my clothes.

She was dressed in a full outfit of rubber, and she looked incredibly sexy in it. Her large breasts strained at their containment. A little taller than me in her extremely high heels, her short skirt displayed her pert bottom beneath a mass of ruffled rubber petticoats whenever she bent over.

My erection started to perk up again at the sight of her. I was ashamed to be seen in my current condition by such a lovely lady. The only hope I had now of getting anywhere with her would be if she took pity on me, which was a demoralising thought.

I found it hard to believe that the maid was dressed for normal hotel work. There was probably some reason why she was in such an extremely sexy uniform. It looked like it would be more at home in one of the rubber porn movies than in a hotel. Perhaps there was some kind of brothel in the hotel? It was always possible that they were just trying to mess with my mind.

My clothes were arranged piece by piece in stacking trays, as if precious and fragile. I suppose that in a way they were. Nurse Five directed the maid to place the trays on the examination table. She then used a convenient little hand pumped device to blow a good layer of smooth talc all over my body, directing me to turn around as necessary. The talc had a rather strong girly scent, but I was in no mood to complain. I still felt weak and wobbly from my triple enema.

Nurse Five produced the first piece of clothing with a flourish and handed it to me. It was a thick pair of tan coloured rubber pants. They were heavier than I expected. I would have preferred if they were black, as I thought that looked better.

It was obvious that they intended to dress me in some rubber clothing, though I had no idea why. It didn't seem a particularly practical or acceptable garb for hotel staff. Presumably it would be some sort of rubberised version of a more normal uniform. Maybe it was something to do with their odd fixation with extreme hygiene?

The nurse looked down at my humiliating erection with a smile.

"You must position your little peepee properly in the special pocket, which you will never manage with it like that. Let me help you with it," said Nurse Five.

I was hoping that she would get my penis soft the best of all possible ways, but it was not to be. Instead, she blasted it with a freezing cold spray from an aerosol can. It quickly wilted, and felt so numb I almost doubted it was still there.

"Now you must pull your panties up to the top of your legs, but keep the tops rolled down so you can get to the pocket," said Nurse Five very cheerily. Her cute little names for things weren't doing much for my self-esteem. Peepee and panties didn't sound very manly, and seemed rather childish and feminine to my ears.

I had pulled the pants up to the top of my legs and was about to demand she stopped her insulting language when I felt her reach into my pants and grab my cock.

With quick fingers she threaded it through a tight rubber tube in the crotch of the pants and pulled it tight out of the other side, somewhere behind me. It felt like she was about to yank it clean off.

I forgot myself and swore a complaint as she did so. All that came out was a feeble wheezing. It was if I had lost my voice, though there was no pain. Nurse Five heard me though.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Lucky for you that The Lehrerin numbed your vocal cords when she disinfected your throat or I would have to inform her of your outburst. The numbness will wear off in a few hours, but for now you'll have to be quiet whether you like it or not. Really you should learn to speak only when ordered, or you will get yourself a reputation for being noisy, and we have so many ways of silencing noisy girls. You don't want to have to experience that if you can help it, most of them are unpleasant," warned Nurse Five. Her voice that was friendly and yet very firm, like a mother calmly warning a mischievous child.

My penis seemed to be firmly stuck in position, pulled tight back underneath me. There were special pockets for my balls like in the leotard from before. Once they were in place the nurse instructed me to pull my pants the rest of the way up, though she insisted on referring to them as panties.

The thick rubber gripped me tightly and when the nurse did up the zip in the rear they reached right up to the bottom of my rib cage. They gave a tight squeeze to my waist and made deep breathing difficult, though they were nowhere as tight as the corset I’d tried on before. At least they had a beautiful smooth crotch, without the huge caricature labia the others had.

"Maid, the next item please," said Nurse Five.

The compliant maid passed another tan coloured rubber garment to the nurse, who inspected it and handed it to me.

"Put this on. Here, this is the front," she said gesturing.

It was a kind of tank top or vest. It was much thinner rubber than the pants, and much more stretchy. I was able to pull it down over my head and roll it into place. It overlapped my pants by a couple of inches.

There was an odd baggy front made of a layer of heavier rubber that I didn't understand. It didn't look like it belonged there. It seemed to spoil the nice line of the garment, but the top felt tight on my body underneath, so I didn't mind so much. Perhaps I would have a chance to ask about the odd double layer as soon as my voice came back.

"Now for your skin suit. It's such gorgeous thin rubber, you are going to love it, but be careful: it's quite fragile, so don't stick a toe or fingernail through it or you'll be in terrible trouble," advised Nurse Five. She turned to the maid and ordered, "Give her the suit."

The maid was standing, silently waiting, with her hands neatly clasped in front of her. Her dark bob of hair looked almost identical to the receptionist's cut, but with the addition of her pretty black and white hat. She reached into the tray and handed the small package of smooth rubber to me.

At last I had figured out that they were referring to me as 'her'. This made some sense of their previous banter, though not much. This insulting technique was obviously intended to motivate me to do better, like a drill sergeant calling the recruits 'ladies'. I didn't think it was working. Calling a man with such a large and obvious erection as I’d just displayed a girl was simply laughable.

I shook out the suit, and the powerful aroma of new rubber enveloped me. It was a light yellow colour, almost completely transparent and no thicker than a condom. Wary of Nurse Five's warning I carefully rolled up one leg and stepped into it. My foot slipped down until stopped by an enclosing rubber foot. My toe pulled tight at the end and I settled my heel in place.

I pulled the suit up to just past my knee and moved to the other leg. This was the first all-over suit I'd ever stepped into and the feeling of the soft clinging and extremely stretchy rubber was wonderful. Just the idea that it would completely cover me in the same sensation was making me dizzy. It was an incredible rush as I pulled the rubber up to the top of my legs.

I sorted out the top of the suit and disentangled the arms. I reached my hand into an arm of the suit and carefully pulled it into place until the glove was firmly enveloping my hand. I was glad that I had such short fingernails as I had to grip the sleeve with the tips of my fingers to tug on it, and it would have been easy to stick a long nail through it.

I could now see that the suit had an attached hood. Apprehensively, I took a deep breath and tugged it over my head. I was relieved to find that there were holes for my eyes, nose and mouth. The hood was a stretch fit, and it stuck perfectly to my depilated head. I understood now why they had got rid of my hair, but still it seemed a bit extreme just to make a hood fit nicely.

It just remained to zip up the back of the suit, which the maid did for me without being asked. Nurse Five didn't seem to mind. The suit zipped down the back with a very fine zipper that went right through the crotch to end just above my pubic area.

I was now snugly enclosed in very close fitting, very stretchy rubber. I could already see my sweat clouding the interior of the suit. The front seemed a bit loose though, which was a little untidy.

Nurse Five instructed the maid to smooth out the suit and make sure it was sitting right before we added the rest of the uniform. My job was to stand still being pinched and tugged at. I did appreciate how much easier it was to pull the rubber about without the chance of accidentally snagging hairs.

I still wondered what kind of hotel it was that required its staff to dress this way. Whatever the reason, there was no way I dared complain. While I had not enjoyed the shower or examination at all, and the enemas had been just too intense, I was rather enjoying dressing up in rubber. There was more to come and by now I was looking forward to it.

When Nurse Five was satisfied that my suit was sufficiently free of wrinkles, twists and ripples, she instructed the maid to give me the next part. This consisted of a pair of black stockings made of more thin, stretchy rubber.

While I was surprised that it wasn't a man's pair of rubber jeans or trousers, I quickly had them in place, and they fit me perfectly. I was surprised to see how different my legs looked. They were almost sexy and it didn't feel like I was looking at my own legs, but at the shapely limbs of a different person.

"Here are your boots Number Twenty Two," said Nurse Five, though it was the maid that handed them to me. I stepped into them without hesitation and the maid fastened one while I fastened the other. They were thigh high, antique Victorian style with pointed toes. These allowed me the ball of my foot and my toes to stand on, arching the rest of my foot up steeply to accommodate five inch heels. The entire boot had to be slowly laced through eyelets, and it took us some time.

They weren't what I had expected from a man's boot, but I had to admit they matched the stockings perfectly.

"Maid, you will need to fit her corset top and ensure that it is properly laced. Make sure that you get it tight, but not so tight that she's a mass of bruises," said Nurse Five.

I felt the maid's expert hands delicately wrap the corset around me. It stopped a few inches short of my nipples and unlike the first one I had tried had no shoulder straps or breast cups. It also had no clips at the front. I soon realised that this meant that the maid had to lace it completely from scratch. She was able to do it surprisingly quickly.

Whenever I felt unsteady on the shoes I felt her hands gently steady me. I was becoming very thankful for her help.

Once she had the laces in place she began to draw them tighter quite slowly. She took her time to gently ease the slack out of each part, smoothly drawing in my waist. It was like a sexual seduction, and it was literally rendering me breathless. If it hadn't been for my earlier experiments with the discarded clothes I would have been dizzy.

Somehow the maid knew exactly the right point to tighten the corset to, and stopped just before it would have started to hurt me. I couldn't see how she tied off the laces, or what she did with the loose ends.

Eight suspenders dangled from the corset, and she helpfully attached these to my stockings. The tight tugging sensation was nice, even erotic, but I was busy relishing the feeling of tensing my muscles to push against the corset and feeling it squeeze back tightly, yet with enough stretch to know it wouldn't ever hurt me. I was already getting used to my new way of breathing, and as long as I didn't exert myself too much I knew I would be perfectly comfortable.

The maid passed me a pair of black rubber ruffled panties. There was no mistake here; these were a pair of woman's panties. I tried to gesture that they were wrong, but she silently insisted that I take them. I moved to show them to Nurse Five as if to protest, but the maid urgently grabbed my hand and pulled me round before I could get her attention.

I gathered I would be punished if I didn't put on the silly frilly pants and the kindly maid was trying to save me, or save herself. I was sure that Nurse Five would have understood if I'd just been able to mention it, and the maid would not have been punished for bringing the wrong clothes, as she so obviously had done.

My cowardice got the better of me and I gingerly lifted each of my high heels, while the maid helped me pull up the soft frilly panties. I had only just realised that because of the corset I could hardly bend down at all and would need to perform a sort of awkward crouch if I wanted to reach the floor.

The panties closed around my bottom with an ominous thwap, and glancing back I noticed that the ruffles served to make my bottom look somewhat large and rounded.

I now had a rather sexy figure. Despite my reservations I was starting to get turned on admiring it. I could feel my penis quivering down below in my tight rubber pants.

As it tried to stiffen the rubber sleeve gripped it very tightly and it became quite painful and unpleasant. Soon it became too painful and my erection began to fade, much to my relief. This had to be a mistake, but how could I communicate the problem?

I felt cheated and frustrated. Looking down at myself once again only treated me to a repeat of the same painful cycle. If this wasn't fixed soon I would be in hell.

I was so busy worrying about my constrained cock that I didn't really notice Nurse Five and the maid preparing the next part of what was becoming a quite complex uniform.

"Put your arms out together in front of you so that this can slip over your head," she said.

Together, she and the maid slipped the mass of clear rubber, ruffled petticoats over my head. It slipped down my constricted waist and came to rest on my new 'hips'. With a great deal more rubbery rustling they arranged it properly. It stuck out from the bottom of my waist like a shelf.

"And again," said Nurse Five before I could even think of protesting that they had fitted me with a woman's dress.

This time it was a black dress bodice with an attached pleated circle skirt. Unlike the petticoats it wasn't a stretch fit. The maid pulled up a tiny zip at my back, and it closed neatly about my waist adding another layer of tightness. There was an empty space in front where the dress had a built in bra.

I realised that I was now dressed in almost the same way as the maid was. The silly girl must have brought a maid's uniform by mistake, and Nurse Five must have assumed that Mistress Three had intended it as a joke and was afraid to do anything about it. I felt sure one of them would be punished later for subjecting me to such a distressing error and finally I would get my proper clothes.

I felt quite foolish when the maid positioned a black bobbed wig with dark, sexy bangs on my head. Not only because it was so inappropriately girlish, and must look quite silly on me, but because I now realised why the maid had such a similar haircut to the receptionist: both must be as bald as I was. There was something sticky inside the wig and once settled into place on my hood it stayed firmly in place.

A maid's cap completed the ensemble. Now, apart from the baggy front of my suit I had a sexy uniform just like the buxom maid. I longed to see myself in a mirror, but there were none in sight. I caught a ghostly reflection of two maids in the glass of the cubicle. I couldn't tell which one was me, but it wasn't a proper look. I knew I had to be fooling myself.

"Admiring yourself hmm?" Smiled Nurse Five. "Well, you do look very sexy. You're making me quite hot and sticky. Unfortunately, we can't play today," she paused and sighed. "There's just one thing left and then you'll be properly dressed in uniform and ready to begin your training."

15.05.10