The Doll Hotel 3: Basic Maid Training, Advanced Failure

I couldn't believe that Nurse Five seriously intended for me to begin my training as one of the hotel staff dressed in this maid's uniform. I thought that the only possible explanation was that the maid sent with my clothes by Mistress Three had picked up the wrong things, and that Nurse Five would never question something she thought was from Mistress Three. Perhaps it was a joke?

"Now for your titties," said Nurse Five. "How big do you want them?" She paused for effect. "Oh, you can't speak," well I suppose we will have to make them nice and big then," I know you'll love it.

It was at this point that I began to wonder if these people had any idea of how crazy they were. Nurse Five was already unwinding a transparent plastic hose from underneath the examination table. Before I could discover what it was attached to, she had the end of it pressed under my armpit.

I looked under my arm and saw a sort of reinforced target spot in my light rubber skin suit that lined up with a spot on the underlying tan coloured top that had caused me so much puzzlement. I could now see what the loose layer at the front was for.

Nurse Five piped a yellowish liquid into the front of my suit via the underarm entry point. Quickly the front ballooned out on one side, creating the impression of a large breast pushing at the rubber. It even had an erect nipple. Then she moved to the other armpit and repeated the operation. It was all over in just a couple of minutes. I was flabbergasted.

I was now in the possession of two large, heavy breasts. They were at least DD sized and stretched out the loose front of my skin suit and filled the built in bra of my dress perfectly. They looked so sexy, that peering down at them was making me even hornier. This wasn't a comfortable event: my unyielding tight pants wouldn't permit me to get hard.

I just couldn't work out how to get my mind around that idea that these big beautiful breasts were attached to me. They had literally appeared from nowhere. I reached to touch them, but Nurse Five batted my hand away.

"Uh uh ohh, no playing with yourself. You naughty little maid, trying to touch yourself up. Oh, I know that you're curious to discover what they feel like, but you'll find out soon enough. I can assure you that the gel I injected has a very realistic consistency and weight," she smiled.

Then she dragged her hand gently across my erect nipple, and I felt an erotic twinge in my own hidden beneath. How could that happen? Nurse Five anticipated my question, knowing I could not ask.

"There's a sensor in your suit that detects pressure, and a nice big electrode pad right over your own little titty. So when someone plays with you, you get a little electrical jolt. If they touch you softly, it's really nice. And if they do this..." She suddenly twisted my nipple hard.

I would have yelped in pain if I could have done. I felt like someone has just stabbed my nipple with a needle. A brief wave of nausea overcame me. I forgot how to breathe in the tight rubber corset. I panicked, starting to feel dizzy. I felt Nurse Five and the maid holding me up. Gradually, I regained my senses and managed to bring my breathing back under control: quick and shallow, chest heaving prettily, like the heroine of a period drama.

I regained my balance on my five-inch heels and managed to take my own weight. It wasn't easy. I realised I could easily fall in such heels. I couldn't believe they were expecting me to work in them. I wasn't a girl like the maid who probably had years of experience in slutty heels and seemed thoroughly at home in them. The balls of my feet and the backs of my calves were already aching like mad, and I'd only been standing up for ten minutes. The points of the boots were crushing my toes too.

I consoled myself with the thought that once I had my voice back I would be able to get them to give me some more suitable shoes. I hoped that it would be soon.

"Now, let me just give you a little polishing," said Nurse Five.

I was puzzled by what she meant. Her comment turned out to be completely literal, as she set about spraying my clothes with some sort of flowery smelling mist.

Where the mist landed on my outfit it produced a cool sensation, like a cool breeze across my skin.

When she began to rub me all over with a big soft cloth it felt pleasantly relaxing. It was like a gentle, erotic massage. It was heavenly to feel my tense muscles unlocking. When she polished my breasts I thought I was going to cum, even though I couldn't sustain an erection in the restrictive pants.

The fantastic shine that resulted was affecting me too. It was really transformed me, or at least as much as I could see of myself. I was itching to see myself looking so perfectly smooth and shiny.

Much to my chagrin, Nurse Five stopped her polishing and moved in close to whisper in my ear.

"Oh yes. Yes, now you're ready to learn the things you will have to do for yourself, so the maid will take you for further instruction. Goodbye, sweet Twenty Two. I hope we meet again soon: sometime when we can play. I will be looking forward to it so much," said Nurse Five as she moved intimately close to me.

I could feel Nurse Five's breath hot on my face, and then she pulled me to her and seized me in a deep and sudden kiss. Her tongue slipped in, as I had left my mouth agape with surprise. Her lips were hot and hard on mine, while her tongue invaded and ravished me. I felt myself grow dizzy, and me knees weaken. It had to be the corset.

She broke the kiss, but kept hold of my waist, supporting me. Once more I was struggling to regain control of my breathing. I felt so passive and helpless in her arms. She held me up until I had composed myself. I was still flushed and my face must have been bright red.

* * * * *

I could only look at the floor, following the maid's feet as I left. I knew Nurse Five was waving to me, but I daren't look back. I was too ashamed. I didn't know what I would do if I caught her eye again now.

The maid led me through a maze of corridors, the doors opening for her automatically. I realised that I no longer had my key. I hoped that I wouldn't need it.

I was finding it hard to keep up. I couldn't walk well in the heels. The heavy breasts threw my balance out, and I was afraid of falling. On top of that, my feet hurt. The walking made them hurt even more, and my feet seemed to sink down into the boots so that my toes were pinched even harder. I was sweating profusely and the sweat was running into my eyes and stinging.

I tried once to wipe at my eye with my gloved hand, but the polished rubber surface just made my eye sting far worse. I knew never to touch my eyes with those gloves again.

At last we arrived in a small room with a sort of workbench with mirrors and lights, and little barstools fixed in front of it. It looked, and smelled like some sort of makeup room.

I was sweating from the effort of walking through overheated rooms, and in the rubber the sweat had nowhere to go. I could feel it trickling about in my suit, and I couldn't seem to cool down. The heat was making me weak and fatigued much faster than normal. Combined with the restriction of my breathing from the relentless rubber corset, the short walk had exhausted me.

The first thing that grabbed my attention was the mirror. I had to see myself. I was surprised by what I saw. At first I thought that I was looking at the reflection of the other maid. The only obvious differences between her and myself were that I looked a little heavier and more muscled, and she had big doll-like eyelashes and bold, stylised makeup with pouting red lips. It was genuinely difficult to tell which of us was which.

I was enraptured by my own appearance: staring at my big, heaving breasts. I was in a world of my own. I wasn't expecting the maid who had led me here to speak to me, but she did. Her voice was soft and a little husky. Her accent sounded more American than German.

"I am Number Nineteen. I have been assigned to give you your basic orientation as I speak English. We can speak here as this area is private for the junior staff," she paused as if awaiting my reply.

I gave a feeble sort of wheezing croak. My voice had not yet returned.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, of course, you've had the spray. Don't worry, you voice will be able to whisper by tomorrow. In a few days you will be back to normal. It's a lot nicer than a great big gag that makes your jaw hurt," she said cheerily.

I was aghast; I wouldn't be able to communicate at all until tomorrow! How would I explain the terrible mistakes they were making? How would I get them to be more reasonable about my bill? How would I convince them to stop treating me as a maid? Never mind that, I would settle for the ability to ask for some more comfortable boots.

"Though that door is the maid's dormitory," she gestured to a door we hadn't been through yet.

I nodded.

"All the maids sleep together in there, so that's where you'll sleep too. If you are bad you might be sent to a room for solitary punishment, or to the clinic. But for most of the time these two rooms and the bathroom are our private world. All the maids are very kind and I hope you will come to love it here. This really is the most wonderful place: it's a dream come true to work here," explained Number Nineteen.

As she said this, she kept glancing up at a small bump in the ceiling, which I suspected concealed a camera.

I nodded again, as I couldn't say much. I wanted to shake my head and scream that they would never make me love this place. That had been my initial reaction, now I wasn't so sure. Nurse Five had seemed nice. I was also wondering what it would be like to share a room filled with sexy maids. That might be fun.

"Right," said Nineteen. "Now you need to learn how to do your makeup, make sure your hair is tidy, look after your clothes and things like that. Afterwards I'll take you to the bathroom and you can practice changing in and out of your sleeping uniform. You've only got a week to learn all the basics and if you aren't good enough by then you will be punished, so you need to work really hard."

I nodded my assent, and she guided me to one of the stools. Carefully I worked my way into place. Every movement required thought and planning because of the treacherous heels, restrictive corset and my prominent, heavy breasts. These all conspired to make the simple act of sitting down on a stool challenging. I was so thankful to get the weight off my feet.

Another problem that wouldn't go away was my libido. I seemed to be continually horny, but whenever I started to get an erection, the tight pouch trapping my penis back underneath me prevented it in a painful manner. This made it incredibly hard for me to concentrate on anything. As a case in point, I realised that I'd missed the start of what Nineteen was saying to me.

"...and so we use these stick on eyelashes. We use a strong glue, so they will stay in place for weeks..."

'Weeks!' I thought. Never mind weeks. I want to get out of here now.

Nineteen covertly nudged me under the table to get my attention.

"And remember, you need to work really hard at this because if you don't seem like you did your best in each training session, you might get punished anyway, regardless of the final result," warned Nineteen in an excessively cheery tone.

I nodded.

"I'll show you again, and then it's your turn," she enthused.

I realised she was demonstrating how to affix false eyelashes. This was an esoteric process involving long tweezers, what looked suspiciously like a jar of superglue, and huge eyelashes that would make me look like some sort of bratdoll. I didn't want to do this: it was completely inappropriate for a man to learn.

When I came to try it, I realised how difficult it was to perform any subtle task while wearing the rubber gloves. Thankfully they were quite thin, but it was still awkward. I felt that it was unfair, as girls would already know how to do this, but I, as a man, had never tried it before.

The end result was that the first pair of badly applied eyelashes was ripped harshly from my eyelids, causing acute pain. One the second attempt I was able to position them correctly.

I was embarrassed: it was shameful for a man to fail at simple task that even bimbos could perform with ease. It wasn't that I wanted to look nice, but I was determined to show how capable I was.

My stomach and ribs were really beginning to ache from the corset, which had seemed quite comfortable before. I would have done anything to get it off. I continually squirmed about, trying to put my body in a less painful position.

No matter what muscles I tensed or relaxed, the ache wouldn't go away. They had probably laced my corset much tighter than anyone else's just to give me a scare. I hoped that in future they wouldn't be so mean to me.

After dealing with the eyelashes, I had to learn to apply makeup. This was far more difficult than I had expected. I was soon glad that I didn't have to achieve anything subtle. Even so, I found it extremely challenging to copy Nineteen's look with my gloved hands, and in the end had to give up. Not even my lipstick was satisfactory. Nineteen remained cheery and relentlessly positive.

"Well, never mind, you will get another chance after lunch, but you really must succeed then, or you will be in trouble. All maids have to be able to look their best at all times, without assistance," she warned. Despite her cheery pep, but there was an ominous weight to some of her words.

I was downhearted. I couldn't even manage something that even the most vapid secretary could do while drunk. Even though it was a waste of my time I was determined to do better.

"We really need to hurry you up. I had hoped to have practised your outfit changes by now. It looks like you won't get a chance to rest this afternoon," she paused, thinking for a moment. "Now we're headed to the cafeteria. It's not a private area, so you need to obey certain rules. I'll explain them later, but for now, just don't do anything you aren't told to," added Nineteen as she led me into the cafeteria.

During the short walk to the cafeteria my feet began to hurt again and my calves felt like they were cramping up. I could see that Nineteen was impatient with my slow movement, but it was the best I could do.

The cafeteria was a white tiled room with six tables in it. Each table was designed to seat four. There were already several other maids sitting at the tables. Nineteen guided me to a place, which was already set, at an otherwise empty table. Once again I was thankful to sit and rest my feet.

Once I had savoured the relief I took a look about. More maids were now flowing in behind us and filling up the empty seats. The thought of these real women seeing me dressed as I was made me nervous. I looked just like them. Could they tell that I was a fake?

This was the first time I had seen more than two other people together in the hotel, and it was a shock to me just how many there were. I didn't have a chance to count the maids properly, but there had to be at least a dozen, maybe more.

Normally, I would have expected such a crowd to be full of noisy chatter, but everyone was deathly silent. I wondered if it was by choice, or whether like me they had no option. It really was very odd to see a crowd of girls without any of them gossiping away together.

The maids all looked alike. They were all sexy and big breasted. I wondered what they would think if they discovered that I wasn't a genuine woman. It probably wouldn't faze them; it didn't seem to bother Nineteen. I still couldn't stop myself morosely imagining some nightmarish lynching with all the black-rubber-clad maids descending on me in a fury.

All the bowls and beakers were made of soft white plastic. My meal consisted of a bowl of cold soup. It looked smooth, an opaque orange-yellow colour, drab and far from appetising. A single clear plastic spoon was provided, along with a drink that looked and smelled like water. Nobody else was eating or drinking yet, so I didn't touch any of it.

There was a sudden hubbub as someone entered the room. Everyone stood up, so I copied them. Then they all curtsied, so I did my best to imitate that too. I felt tremendously self-conscious performing a clumsy curtsey, as if trying to pretend I was just another girl.

The new entrant: a lady, in long black skirt and cream coloured blouse was the reason for our obeisance. Her hair and boots looked identical to my own, but by the reverence she received she was obviously a figure of some importance. She began to speak in German. As far as I can tell, this is what she said:

"Good day all you girls. In one moment, it will be eating time for you. Today we have a new girl here. This is the first day of her joining us and she will require training. She speaks mainly English. I wish you all to be helpful and assist Number Twenty Two with her training," she said quickly. "You can now eat," she added.

Everyone began to hastily eat the soup, so I followed suit. To my surprise, it tasted quite pleasant. It was more like custard than soup. It didn't look like a big meal, but I was soon struggling to finish it all, despite enjoying it. The accursed corset was squashing my stomach and I found my appetite much reduced.

I was last to finish, and it was a while before I could start to drink my water, which was apparently the next task. A sweet warm glow was spreading out of my stomach. I felt safe, contented and calm for the first time that day.

Finally, I managed to force down all my water, but I was the last to finish. Nineteen was looking at me impatiently, and the other maids were leaving or had already left. By the time I finished the drink, only Nineteen and the strange woman in the blouse and skirt remained beside myself. She strode over and began to lecture me in German.

"You must learn to eat faster Number Twenty Two. You have taken two minutes more lunchtime than you have permission for. You have earned yourself a punishment. Try harder in the future," she said, then left.

Nineteen led me back to the maids' area. I was curious as to the identity of the figure and was also very nervous about what my punishment might entail.

When we arrived back in the room with the mirror and sat back down again: what a relief for the poor aching balls of my feet. I set to work on my makeup practice again. I was distracted and couldn't concentrate. Nineteen went on to advise me and tell me about various rules. I had trouble paying attention, but I recall some of what she said.

"That was Housekeeper Four," said Nineteen. "She is in charge of maids, and is normally the one to give us our orders. Don't worry too much about your demerit, just focus on not earning any more, ok," she advised me.

I thought that Housekeeper Four had said punishment not demerit, but I didn't trust my German to really follow such subtlety.

The relaxed warm feeling from the soup was spreading throughout my body, subtly easing my aches and pains. Even my waist was feeling better, despite the slightly bloated feeling that the small meal had engendered.

The continual horniness seemed to get worse, and frequent reminders assailed me from my tightly bound penis. Strangely, the pain didn't seem to bother me as much as before. My bladder was also starting to feel very full, and troubling me, but I could put up with it for now.

My work with the makeup improved to the point where Nineteen was prepared to stop further work for today. I now had my face painted much as she did, although it still looked amateurish. I found myself hoping that one day I could do it as well as her, but then stopped myself. Such thoughts were ridiculous. I would not let myself be drawn into their topsy-turvy world. As a man I had no need for makeup, and I had no intention of carrying on this farce for much longer.

As usual, Nineteen told me what to do. "I'm going to take you into the dormitory now, and you can go to the bathroom. I will show you how to get changed, how to prepare for sleep and how to ready yourself in the morning. Follow me," she ordered.

The dormitory was darker than any other room I'd seen so far. The floor was tough black rubberised foam that gave slightly under my spike heels. The walls and ceiling were covered in polished black rubber. Like so much of the building, there were no windows. Black-light tubes provided the dim illumination, but made every tiny mark and speck of dust on my uniform glow.

There was a large kind of gymnastic vaulting horse apparatus in the middle of the room and many low beds lined up along walls of the room in two rows. Each bed had an adjacent coat rail with some rubber clothing hanging from it. Nineteen led me to one of these. A number at the end of the bed read '22'. It had built-in drawers underneath it.

"This is your bed, and here are your sleeping uniform and your dress uniform hanging up," she gestured to the clothes. "You always need to ensure that your clothes are hung neatly, or you will be severely punished," she warned. "Make sure you see how they are hung up, as you will want to copy it."

I studied the clothes carefully. The warm glow of my earlier meal was now fading and I could feel all my aches and pains returning. I wondered when I could get more of the delicious soup. I was eager to get to the bathroom, where perhaps I might be able to get all these restrictive clothes off and take a shower.

"This is your sleeping uniform. Pick it up and follow me. You are going to need to learn how to get in and out of your uniforms by yourself," said Nineteen. "When you awake in the morning you must get up and dress yourself on time to begin your tasks. You must also be properly dressed and in bed by the allotted time."

I followed her into the bathroom carrying a bundle of heavy black rubber that seemed to be a tangle of straps.

The bathroom echoed the style of the dormitory: black tiled floor and walls, with a rubber ceiling. Glowing black-light panels were set into the ceiling. The humid warmth and the dark surroundings made me feel like I was inside some alien creature, its hot flesh forming the walls. I almost expected to see the floor pulse with life.

A row of a dozen white-porcelain toilets extended along one wall. There were no cubicles: they stood exposed on display, reflected in the black tiled floor. There was no sign of any sacrifice to privacy in the bathroom at all.

The opposite wall had wash basins, and at the far end of the room around the corner was a communal shower area. This formed another wide-open black tiled area with polished chrome piping.

Turning the opposite way to the showers at the end of the room led to a long row of strange looking rubber drains set into the wall rather than the floor. Transparent plastic tubing dangled from the wall, falling in coils onto the floor, and cables hung down from the ceiling. I didn't like the look of this area at all.

Nineteen headed over to one of the toilets, and pulled at something on the wall. A small metal device on a spring-loaded chain reeled out of the wall fitting.

"This is the tool to unfasten your dress and the pee-hole in your underpanties. Just hook this in the catch between your shoulders and you can pull down the zip. First though, you can go to the toilet, and I'll show you how," said Nineteen perkily. "Just remember, you aren't permitted to play with yourself at any time."

She sat down on the toilet herself, pushing her petticoats up around her waist. Then she reached around them and with a fight dragged her ruffled rubber outer panties down around her ankles. The skin suit was crotchless so that provided no obstacle. She then hitched her skirts up, took the metal rod on the end of the chain in one hand and hooked the business end of it up behind her crotch.

Her great big breasts heaved enticingly. I knew I should have been watching her hand more carefully, but she was so hot and sexy in her rubber outfit. Watching her struggle like this to use the toilet was unexpectedly thrilling. I wondered if I would get a view of her hot little snatch. I so wanted to fuck her. I wished I could fuck her down below, or in those fantastic tits, I didn't care which.

She wore a pair of tan coloured underpanties much like mine, except of course hers were for a girl. A zip opened up near the back of them. She sat down and I heard a trickle of urine splashing against the porcelain and spattering into the water.

She gestured to the adjacent toilet, "Now you try," she said.

I copied her actions. It was extremely difficult to get the outer panties down. They were awkward to reach around the ruffled petticoats, and hard to grip with gloved hands. The polished rubber was really slippery. I was panting for breath and sweating vigorously by the time I had them around my ankles. It was really hot in the rubber suit. In the struggle I had crushed my breasts several times and electric shocks had set my nipples on fire.

Then I got the tool into the zipper of my underpanties, pulling it forward and down. I couldn't get the tool out again no matter how I tried. It seemed fixed in place, chaining me sitting on the toilet. Nineteen noticed my struggles.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention, you can't remove the chain until you are zipped back up again. It's intentional. Here is the only place you can unzip your panties."

So much for my struggles: I couldn't get my penis out to pee. Maybe this only worked for girls and I was stuck. Then I felt some air wafting across the tip of my penis. I reached back. Yes. The end was exposed. I was so damn horny. I didn't pause to think. In an instant I was rubbing myself crazy.

"No, no!" Shrieked Nineteen. "Es ist verboten! Anschlag! Ansch... Stop! You must stop that! Stop at once!"

I ignored her. She was trying to unhook herself from the toilet, but in her haste she had got tangled up with the chain, and her panties were still caught around her ankles. Just a few moments more and I would be there.

My entire body was humming and electrified. With one hand I began to massage my breasts and I could feel myself rising to a new higher level. I'd never had a feeling like this before, by myself or with anyone else. I was already in a trance.

Nineteen was screaming things at me, but I couldn't hear any of them. She'd managed to free herself from the toilet but her panties were still around her ankles. I felt her hands tugging at my arm but she was far too weak to stop me and hobbled as she was she couldn't brace herself to pull properly.

The build up to the orgasm was approaching a crescendo. It was like a thunder that drowned out everything else.

Yes! What an orgasm. I was on cloud nine. The high seemed to last forever. I almost blacked out from forgetting to breathe. I might have been shouting something, I don't remember. Semen dribbled down into the toilet as I almost collapsed with relief.

Nineteen was distraught, "Oh no. Oh calamity. Oh, you stupid girl. Touching yourself is completely forbidden. The toilets are always monitored. We will get a very severe punishment for this. I had been trying to be such a good girl. Such a good girl. Now I have been bad. Bad. Bad. Oh no. How could I be so stupid to let this happen? A trainee in my charge has cum without permission. I’ll be sent to the clinic for sure," She was near hysterical. I reconsidered: she was all the way there.

I watched her as if through a fog. The incredible orgasm had left me with an afterglow that made her cries and weeping sound far away. I don't know how long I sat there, dazed while she wailed and wept - her panties now discarded on the floor.

As the afterglow faded, I started to feel a bit guilty that she would be punished. I'd been told that masturbation was not supposed to happen, but how bad could it be? What was she making such a fuss about? It wasn't her fault anyway. It seemed logical that I would be the one who got punished. How bad a crime could rubbing yourself in the maids' toilet be anyway? My enforced silence meant that I couldn't say anything to reassure her.

While I was waiting for her to calm down, I finally managed to urinate. It felt silly doing it sitting down, but I didn't have any alternative. I zipped up and unhooked myself from the toilet. I nearly fell on my face after forgetting my panties in the chaos. Finally, after an almighty struggle, I had them back in place.

By now Nineteen was pacing about the toilet frantically. Then Housekeeper Four strode into the room. Nineteen was kneeling at her feet in an instant, her face pressed against the floor. It was all so unsettlingly melodramatic and quite surreal.

Housekeeper Four said, in English, "You pathetic wench. The first little bit of responsibility and you make a complete mess of it. This was a serious failure. How do you suppose you should be punished?"

"Please Mistress Four, I'm no good. I failed you completely, I need a very harsh punishment; I should be sent to Mistress Three," whimpered Nineteen.

"Is that so? Well, as you presume to know how you should be punished you may well receive the harsh punishment you have asked for. It will not be one that you forget. As for this slut of a trainee..." She nodded towards me, her voice dripping venom.

I bowed my head.

"The trainee did not even curtsey when I entered. She is wilful, disobedient and a total cum slut. She couldn't even learn to do her makeup properly after taking all day. Nurse Five has spoiled her already. Trainees need a firm hand and a quick introduction to punishment so that they know that proper behaviour is a serious matter. Now it is too late: the damage has been done," said Housekeeper Four. Her voice was filled with hate.

I realised instantly that Housekeeper Four didn't have the smouldering fury, vicious mood swings and powerfully dominant aura of Mistress Three, but she made up for it with methodical and calculated cruelty. I could tell from her posture and expression that she meant to make an example of both of us.

I had an inkling that she was the sort of person who thought only in terms of rules, examples, punishments and deterrents. I wished now that I had followed Nineteen's advice. Her panic now made sense to me. She would suffer severely, and it would be my fault.

Normally, I would have faced down a bully like Housekeeper Four with confidence. Alas, in my new position I didn't know how to stand up to her. I wouldn't have dared answer her back even if I had been able, and I wasn't able. I couldn't put my case and there was no way I could take her on physically - not handicapped as I was by my constricting, cumbersome and humiliating outfit.

I didn't have any options. I began to weep. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Perhaps it was guilt at causing such trouble for Nineteen, who had done her very best to help me. Perhaps it was shame at that I lost control of myself. Was I so easily beaten by a rubber uniform?

Housekeeper Four laughed at my sobs. "That wench should save those tears for later. She is going to have a hard time, the filthy little slut. When the others find out what she did, they are going to make her life ten times more miserable than any punishment."

My weeping increased in intensity. What was wrong with me? The wracking sobs were making me light headed and I was getting dizzy again.

"Enough of your whining. Both of you follow me," ordered Housekeeper Four.

We followed her back into the dormitory, where the maids were already assembling. A wave of bobbing passed through them as Housekeeper Four entered and a murmur of chatter fell silent.

I could feel a lot of eyes on me. So far they mostly seemed curious. When it seemed everyone was in place, and all the curtseys over with, the housekeeper began to speak.

"I've ordered you all here to witness my decree of punishment for maids Nineteen and Twenty Two. Nineteen allowed a serious failure in her duties by permitting a novice maid to make herself cum," said the housekeeper. She paused for effect. A wave of gasps ran through the assembled crowd.

Everyone was looking at Nineteen and myself, and I couldn't stop crying like a little girl. I was very self-conscious again. They were sure to think I was crying because I would be punished, which just made me cry all the more. They must think me quite the pathetic and selfish wench, unable to take a telling off without turning on the waterworks.

Housekeeper Four continued with great seriousness, "Maid Nineteen will be sent to Mistress Three for treatment. I am going to ask for her breasts to be considerably enlarged, and I do mean considerably. I expect Mistress Three will add whatever ingenious modifications she can contrive. Further failure on her part will likely result in modifications that will leave her unfit to serve as a maid. If that happens she may lose her number."

Nineteen sagged like a broken doll. I gasped. This was nothing like I expected. I had been ready to believe everything was a sham, but Nineteen's reaction brought home the seriousness of it. None of this was a joke or a scam or a trick: it was all completely real. Whatever punishment Nineteen believed she had asked for, this threat of physical mutilation seemed to be far worse than what was merited.

It slowly dawned on me that these people were insane and they would do anything as long as it conformed to their demented rules. Poor Nineteen might even be permanently disfigured because of my foolishness.

I felt so sorry for Nineteen. She was so beautiful now, and her breasts looked more than big enough already. If they were enlarged by much she would look ludicrous not pretty. There was still a tiny germ of doubt in my mind that they were really mad enough to do that to her.

Housekeeper Four let the gasps subside and continued, "The novice maid Twenty Two will be placed in the isolation tank for two weeks, starting tomorrow morning, after which she will be placed in strict chastity control until such time as I deem it no longer necessary - if that time ever comes."

I looked down at the floor. I could feel all the eyes upon me now. My punishment sounded very mild considering it was I who had committed the offence. If I were able, I would have asked for Nineteen's punishment to be lightened at my expense, but it wasn't possible. I began to sob violently once again.

It was only later that I wondered how the housekeeper had produced such an eloquent English speech when I had already seen (and it would later be confirmed) that her English was good, but not that good.

For the first time I had a handle on how things worked here. I had been pretending to myself that it was all a game or an accident. I realised now that it was both of those, but as a game it was played with such seriousness that it was deadly. These people were all playing out a deranged fantasy and they had no idea where to stop or draw a line. The accident was that I was now part of it. If they had their way I would remain so indefinitely: those were the rules they played by.

"In addition, both naughty maids will receive a caning immediately. Nineteen is to take twenty strokes and Twenty Two is to take ten," pronounced Housekeeper Four. "Come forward Nineteen. Take off your panties and mount the horse."

She did so, climbing on top of the padded horse. The housekeeper buckled restraints around her wrists and ankles securing her in position. She then threw her ruffled rubber petticoats up and over her back.

Housekeeper Four produced a thin, hard, flexible cane. It looked vicious and gave the impression that it would cut into soft flesh and be extremely painful.

"You are to count your strokes. If you lose count, I may start again," warned Housekeeper Four.

The housekeeper looked grimly serious. Though she had the same dark bob with bangs wig of hair as the maids, but her sophisticated looking cream rubber blouse with its sharp collar and pearl buttons set her apart from us. Her long black rubber skirt was very soft and flexible, clinging to her thighs.

She looked both efficient and sexy. She might even have been beautiful if it weren't for the intense bitterness that infused her being. I wondered if I was beginning to fear her, or whether it was just a fear of the entire hotel that was starting to twist at my guts. I felt horribly trapped.

I desperately wanted to get away from the hotel, but it didn't look like I would get the chance any time soon. I began to wonder at the sort of punishments that would be handed out if I actually escaped: somebody would surely be blamed. If I got the chance I would probably try and run away anyway.

For her part, Nineteen simply looked like she was in shock. She didn't even tug at her bonds and lay motionless across the horse. I felt the earlier announcement was to blame for this more than the caning. I hoped she would still be able to count her strokes.

Housekeeper Four took her time winding up and then placed the first stroke. The whistle of the cane was horrible. The sound of the impact was awfully loud: loud enough to drown Nineteen's suppressed grunt of pain. I had never imagined such slow, deliberate violence. The housekeeper took her time with the next stroke.

By the third stroke, Nineteen was screaming and in tears. The whole experience had to be very humiliating for her. As a sensitive girl she was not able to take her punishment in a brave or stalwart way.

She had been made to look utterly pathetic: her bottom was sticking up in the air and she was being caned in front of all the maids. She was soon begging for mercy. Housekeeper Four just laughed at her and reminded her to count her strokes.

I knew my turn would be soon, but I actually didn't mind. I felt such a selfish asshole, that I knew I deserved everything I got. The knowledge helped me face my fear, and I managed not to panic. I hoped I would be able to remain calm when they strapped me in place.

Nineteen was able to count all her strokes. The two layers of rubber must have cushioned her behind a little, though when she was helped off the horse it was clear she was in considerable pain and could not stand without help.

The housekeeper just allowed her to keel over on her side once she was away from the horse. She lay there sobbing, with her petticoats rucked up around her waist. The other maids shifted away from her as if she had some contagious disease.

It was now my turn on the horse. My outer ruffled panties were stripped away: a further humiliating gesture. I had never thought I would regret losing them, but I did. The housekeeper beckoned me forward while I chanted my guilt to myself to keep from panic and climbed onto the horse to take my place without resistance.

I felt the straps buckle tight around each wrist, then each ankle. I had a feeling that in different circumstances I would have been turned on by this, which I didn't expect. I had thought this would be the moment I panicked. However, I just felt sick to my stomach for my stupidity and selfishness.

For a moment it felt incredibly right to be here on the horse: bound in place for severe punishment. I knew I had earned it and that I'd done something terrible to Nineteen that could not be undone. The best I could give was public atonement.

"As the novice maid cannot speak, I will not require her to count her strokes," said Housekeeper Four as if being magnanimous. She bent down close to my ear and whispered, "A pity, because I know you would have deliberately miscounted to receive more strokes. Ha, if you feel guilty now, wait until you see what is left of Nineteen once Mistress Three and that knife-happy nurse have finished with her. I'm looking forward to whipping those giant tits," she laughed to herself as she stood up to administer the first blow.

At some point during the process I realised that I was trying to scream. I couldn't hear a result. I felt oddly distant from my body, which was thrashing about and weeping all by itself. I was watching it all from afar.

I almost blacked out at nine strokes. If it hadn't been for the layers of rubber I swear my backside would be bleeding and in tatters. As they pulled me off the horse and I slumped over, I felt the other maids all crowding around me, and staring down at the criminal on the ground. I lay there, too stunned to move.

I was in a circle of darkness looking up at a crowd of petticoats and sharp pointed boots. I feared they were all about to stamp me to death with lethal spike heels. I wanted to crawl away, but my body seemed unable to respond to my commands.

"Now!" Exclaimed Housekeeper Four to get everyone's attention. "Nineteen, get yourself to Mistress Three and beg for your punishment. The novice maid Twenty Two will remain here where the rest of you can help her into her night uniform. She will report to me in the morning for further punishment."

With that last order, the housekeeper stalked off and out of the room.

Sobbing wretchedly, Nineteen slowly dragged herself to her feet and still crouched started to awkwardly pull her discarded panties back into place. Her movements were slow and broken. I could imagine how much it would hurt for her every time that tight rubber caught or snapped against her tender behind.

For my part, I felt myself yanked bodily upright, dragged into the toilet and my clothes stripped from my by a huddle of maids who nastily pinched and tugged at me. They were careful to make the removal of my dress as painful as possible. My sweat filled skin suit was quickly stripped, followed by my hood, boots and corset. They whisked everything away.

Wearing just my breast-top and panties, hairless, bald and exposed, I felt very much at the mercy of these maids. They all looked alike in their sexy uniforms. Most of all I dreaded what they would do if I had an erection and I dared not become excited. My fear made sure that didn't happen.

Two glowering maids held each arm. They paused to discuss my fate, their voices high and angry. I felt certain that I was amongst people who hated me and wished me harm. I guessed that they had long ago perfected methods of dispensing it without breaking any rules.

They spoke about me in German.

"I say we give her the full treatment," said one.

"Do you think she deserves it?" Asked another.

"I think Mistress Four wants us to do it," said the first again.

"No, we shouldn't do anything we weren't told to do: it never ends well," said a third.

"We can save the treatment for when Nineteen returns from her punishment. Then we'll know if Mistress Three has crippled her," said the first.

"I think we need to give her a wash before we put her to bed," continued the first.

"It's alright to let her know we're not happy, but let's not do anything cruel. We don't know if she really deserves it," said the second.

It was awful to be unable to say a word in my own defence, but everyone talking as if I wasn't there was more upsetting than fear of the punishments they seemed to be planning for me. I was resigned to the fact that I was going to get a hard time. I vowed that I would do anything to win their approval: no matter how they mistreated me, I would thank them for it.

"Right, it's time for her wash," said the third. The others all agreed.

The four of them spun me around and dragged me down into the area with the enema pipes. I found my wrists strapped with rubber cuffs and yanked behind my back. Rubber straps were pulled uncomfortably tight around my arms. I felt a pressure on the restraints, pulling my wrists upwards. I had to bend forwards to raise my arms. I had to bend right over and stick my behind in the air.

The position was painful and tiring to hold. There was a lot of pressure on my shoulders and they were really hurting. I had to shift the pressure onto my arms as I quickly tired, making my shoulders and wrists hurt even more. Nor could I forget about the burning pain of my bottom.

I could raise my head to look about, but it was too exhausting to hold it there for long. Instead I let it droop and found myself looking between my legs. I could see one of the maids was about to insert an enema nozzle into me.

Despite my resistance, she pressed it in easily. I felt her pump it up until it was tight inside me. There was no way I could expel it. Now my anus was hurting too. I already felt stuffed to the limit before I felt the liquid flowing into me.

I had to stand for an age, feeling the growing pain in my belly. The onset of the cramps made my knees weak and I was afraid I would slip and wrench my already agonising shoulders. One of the maids lifted up my head and looked into my eyes.

"This is just the beginning," she said in perfect English. To be honest I wasn't really listening, but I remembered her face and her eyes staring deep into mine.

Her hand gently rubbed my belly, and with a gurgle some of the pain eased. She remained to help me take the rest of the enema. When it was done, she removed the tube from the valve and backed me up against the special protrusion in the wall.

I felt a soft rubber seal pressing around my bottom, and then the valve engaged with something. Suddenly I felt relief. The release was painful but still good. My belly gurgled, still hurting but it was passing. Now I returned to studying the pain in my shoulders, elbows and wrists, and the sweat stinging my eyes.

After a short while, she released me from the wall, and lowered my wrists, unhooking them from the ceiling cable. She didn't say a word to me, and I had no option but to be silent.

She dragged me stumbling into the showers and blasted me with hot water. She used a soapy sponge to rub me down. The water was hotter than I would like but it was a relief to be allowed to stand up. Warm clouds of steam surrounded me and if felt wonderful to be washed, even partially. When she washed my breasts it felt particularly nice, but I was still too afraid to get hard.

There was a huge hot air dryer at the entrance to the showers. The maid hooked my wrist cuffs to another cable, pulled it up, and left me dangling in that awkward position to dry myself. I was beginning to feel like a piece of meat being hung up all the time.

All four of them returned to fetch me from the dryer. They removed my cuffs and bundled me forcibly into the bedroom. They didn't even give me a chance to cooperate. I was pushed down on 'my' bed and soon found myself wrapped in a long, tight, sleeveless rubber dress.

The dress, if you could call it that, was a glistening black cocoon. It zipped tight closed about my legs. Half way up my thighs it split at both sides and flowing up to my neck was held together with straps. Some of these the maids looped over, rather than under my arms, so I found my arms bound to my side inextricably.

They left the arm straps reasonably loose, but there was still no way to get my arms out of them. The other straps they pulled mercilessly tight. The dress squeezed my thighs, waist and chest relentlessly. It even extended up around my neck to form a heavy, strapped and boned collar that held my head almost immobile. I found this neck constraint particularly dreadful and claustrophobic. I started to get panicky, but it was too late to resist.

They held me down, and a thick, black rubber sheet was stretched over the bed and hooked securely in place around the edges. No amount of wriggling would ever get me off the bed now. The tension of the sheet felt like a weight on top of me.

Finally, a heavy black rubber hood was pulled over my head. It had small holes for my nose and mouth, but nothing for my eyes or ears. I was plunged into darkness and all sounds became muffled. The hood fitted tightly under my chin and my mouth was forced shut. I had to strain to open it enough to breathe.

I lay there for a while, hearing the small noises and occasional quiet chatting in the room. I couldn't make out words, but I could tell people were about. Then some sort of alarm went off and the room grew silent.

After a while I thought I could make out the sound of breathing. Evidently I was expected to sleep. I felt nervous and edgy but I did my best. I worried that I would need my wits about me in the morning, and feared not being able to rest as much as everything else.

After a time I realised that sleep was all but impossible. I was hot and sticky, with sweat trickling down inside my clothes. It felt like stinging water was pooling in my eyes. I tried to move my head to get rid of it, but the stiff collar made it very difficult.

I was incredibly conscious of my breathing and there was no way I could even begin to relax. The dark silence seemed to go on and on without end. I was exhausted and desperate for sleep, but I couldn't seem to rest. My mind was buzzing. All the experiences of the day kept repeating themselves in my head in a surreal fragmented way.

I felt really thirsty, and my bladder ached again. My arms and legs were stiff. I tried to move and stretch, but there was so little movement: the rubber of the dress and the sheet were both really thick and hardly stretched at all. I think I wept for a while, but all that did was make breathing even harder.

I had lost all sense of time. It seemed that the insane buzzing in my head would never stop. Alien voices seemed to scream fragmented words at me that all jumbled together. I was in a state that was part dream, part nightmare, and part wakeful.

The misery seemed to go on forever and there was no way out of it. I struggled and squirmed. I tried to scream. It was all to no avail. I felt like I was going mad, or that I wished to go mad to escape from it all. Sometimes I was conscious enough to reflect on my guilt.

This was just my first night as a maid. I wondered how would I survive this place?

27.05.10