The Chalet 4 | cadets, pain, maids, gag | bondage story

As dresser attendants Fiona and Sandy closed up several lockers, and prepared to wheel Maddy away from her dressing station Captain Neesha crouched close to Maddy for some extra words of encouragement. "How I envy you." she whispered, "Your first time is so special. My first journey to the fellatio kiosk was nearly five years ago. That day still stands out from all the rest... Now you just need to be tucked in for your trip."

Neesha took a pair of weighted brass nipple clamps from Fiona and placed them securely on Maddy's nipples. Maddy's breasts pointed straight downward, as the inverted L-shaped frame bent her constrained torso 90 degrees forward from the hips. The clamps had a very firm pinch, and their jaws were lightly ridged for a secure grip. Shining 6-ounce chrome plumb-bobs dangled from 10 inches of rayon cord beneath each unhappy breast. Maddy couldn't complain about it though, as she was denied any semblance of speech. The injection Maddy's duty roster captain had given her to help accommodate the huge cock-shaped torture gag did far more than neutralize her gag re?ex. It temporarily paralyzed her vocal cords along with several muscle groups inside her throat. This made her a compliant victim for the hours of deep-throat face fucking that lay ahead, and rendered any sound other than the slightest moans impossible for her. It also acted as a stimulant throughout her body, making her highly alert to any form of discomfort and pain, yet resistant to a kiosk virgin's propensity for fainting and going into shock. Last but not least the potion acted on her pleasure centers in an exceptional way. The drug took approximately 20 hours to run its course, but didn't actually wear off. A woman's endocrine system was triggered to help flush it out of her body, while releasing sexual endorphines and pheromones. A cadet's glands were literally tricked into giving her an orgasmic rush as the drug left her system. As her mouth and throat areas were inwardly massaged by such things as gags or cocks, her recovery process was accelerated, and the pleasure response was intensified, in stark counterpoint to her painfully overstuffed throat, and awkward bondage. It was a maddeningly effective therapy.

The drug, code named Vector, was the result of decades of tests utilizing thousands of Chalet girls. It was Chalet Corporation's most closely guarded secret. New recruits were never told of its existence, nor were the guests who took piquant pleasure with these delightful new cadets. Some thought it strange that new girls were always required to wear gags, or were under strict instructions not to speak. No one bothered to question those rules, as there were always more enjoyable matters for clients to attend to. The original goal of Chalet chemists was to find a way to keep new recruits from strangling, going into shock and dying during their first horrifying days of work. Losing some cadets was considered unavoidable in this risky business, and acceptable under the contracts the girls had signed. But Chalet Inc. wanted it kept to a minimum, as each death was a loss to Chalet profit potential, and damaged the continuity of management talent. Research found that the drug would save lives, but included a tremendous bonus. Administered continuously over a number of days, it trained girls to associate profound sexual pleasure with strangling, whipping, or any type of carefully repeated painful abuse. Cadets could be programmed to crave certain punishments with almost pavlovian precision. If administered incorrectly it would backfire, paralyzing some women for life, or transforming them into drug addicts and self-destructive masochists.

Sentinels, teams of captains and attendants well trained in the medical arts, were always on hand when the drug was in use at the fellatio kiosk, monitoring cadets' dosages and vital signs, while they drained bladders, purged bowels and maintained the girls' fluid levels. They always knew their Vector level was perfect when a cadet's eyes and pussy stayed moist and responsive, her heart volume was slightly elevated, and her hair shone with the subtle health-giving effects of measured endorphine release. This was one of the key secrets for Chalet girls feeling young, looking ageless, and maintaining ideal ratios of toned muscle and body fat, in spite of the daily abuses they suffered. Thriving was the code word used for this optimal state, though staff members preferred the more humorous description: writhing and thriving.

Neesha took two bright orange bungee cords and began affixing them to her helpless captive. The longer of these half inch thick elastic devices went around Maddy's neck three times. Neesha started by placing the middle of the cord against the top center of Maddy's throat near her jawline, and pulling the ends across the back of her neck, then down in front again for a second loop. This loop included the chrome steel tube that Maddy's body rested against. Stretching the cords ends firmly, Neesha pulled them back up from the tubing and clipped their rubber-coated steel hooks together at the back of Maddy's neck.

Maddy couldn't understand it. The heavy elastic cord was stretched tight, digging into her throat enough to choke her. It seemed so unnecessary and unfair, as she already had to deal with a ten-inch cock buried inside her throat! She quickly realized the bungee's choking effects were only psychological, since the gas-permeable torture gag still allowed her to breath through her nose, albeit very slowly. If anything, the gag sustained her, keeping her throat open against the pressure of a bungee cord, which under different circumstances would have been powerful enough to kill her. It was a terrifying feeling nevertheless, and quite painful. Together with the weights biting into her tender nipples, she couldn't believe how much it hurt....

But this wasn't enough pain to satisfy Neesha, who took the much-shorter remaining cord and connected one end of it under the two hooks already linked at the nape of Maddy's neck. She carefully worked the other end of this short bungee through the girl's hair underneath her ponytail knot till it emerged from her thick mane halfway up the back of her head. Smoothing out Maddy's hair as she went, Neesha pulled the elastic cord taut against Maddy's scalp, and forward until it stretched across the middle of the girl's forehead. As the bungee entered her field of vision, Maddy could see the hook at this end was formed into two separate hooks about a half-inch apart. Each rubber-coated prong folded back steeply for an inch or so. Neesha pushed a glistening dollop of sensitizing mint lube into each of Maddy's nostrils, surprising the girl. She then quickly hooked the two bungee prongs into Maddy's nasal passages and released the cord.

Maddy's eyes snapped open in astonishment as the bungee-prongs jerked painfully upward against the small and sensitive openings of her nose. Her nostrils had never experienced such intrusions. The shape of her beautiful face was distorted by the tension of the strong cord, and she knew it. She could feel it making her into a ugly pig-faced thing. It was a rude and awful sensation, rising above even the pain in her throat, nipples and rectum. She shuddered in misery and anger.

"A bit much for you to comprehend, isn't it, my dear?" her captain cood, studying Maddy's eyes, and almost reading her thoughts. She stroked Maddy's hair as one would do an animal, "It is a lot to learn, so I will try to explain. You see, the torture gag has become your best friend now, protecting you from a grip that would otherwise be deadly, though it would probably take all day for the bungee garotte to asphyxiate you. And the nasal hook is the perfect extra touch. How singularly unpleasant it is to have the nostrils invaded and deformed, and one's face made gruesome looking. There's nothing as humiliating as wearing one in public, not to mention your coming-out party. Knowing that it's only a temporary violation doesn't help much.... you absolutely detest it, don't you? All the girls hate it. I certainly did. But customers just adore it. The nasal hook is a favorite technique of Oriental bondage masters who know a little bit about mistreating women, and how devastating it is to take away a girl's facial dignity. Our asian clients love to fondle the girls' nostrils, tickling and pinching them around their hooks while having their cocks sucked. Your bungee-garotte has several purposes I should also tell you about... First off, it's placement around your neck massages chemically vectored areas, so endorphines are elicited more quickly, and in close association with pain and pressure at your throat. That's very important. Second of all, your bungee gives pleasure to customers, not only visually, but also by helping you grip their cocks more securely. It replaces muscle pressure that is lost while your throat experiences the paralytic qualities of the medicine. Last and most importantly, It just hurts."

Maddy gave her captain a wounded look. Of course it hurts, dammit, her look seemed to say. Maddy's expressive brown eyes were all the poor girl had left to communicate with.

"But, um... I guess you already know that by now," Neesha added, smiling, "You see, cadets are required to arrive at amusement rooms in grand fashion, in creative bondages, and in substantial pain. The Knobs and Nellies up there really go for that. You might as well know about the unflattering terms we sometimes use for customers here. And these names must never leave our dressing rooms, or it's grounds for your termination. Male customers are called Knobs because that's what the poor men arrive with, erections that can't be erased the whole time they are here. Their hard knobs do all the thinking for them too, as they throw away credits for pleasure until they've spent all they have. Nellies are rarely as intense as the men, but generally tip you twice as much. Sometimes nervous, sometimes not, many arrive in female groups to partake of your sex and your pain. Bolstered by the alcohol in their systems, and ladyfriends nearby, some of them sign contracts to begin their own Chalet girl careers. Other Nellies enter clinging to their men, aroused and curious, yet always a little startled by what we dispense here. A bit worried about it too. They've heard the wives tale of women being sold into a dark world of bondage and slavery to absolve their husband's debts. Employees are encouraged to joke about that story. It often amuses and relaxes the crowd, while raising the Nellies' anxiety another notch...what they don't know won't hurt them, will it?"

"Bungee garottes are always color-keyed," the smiling captain continued excitedly, "The bright orange ones you have on introduce you as a kiosk virgin, and a first-month cadet. Medium yellow is the color for the rest of your cadet service time, until it changes to green for the cadet's 18th and final month. When attendants wear them, they use blue for their first month, changing to white until the last of their 18 months, when they wear purple. Captains' garottes are usually worn in public only for ceremonial purposes, and are always black. Bungees play an important role in Chalet Girl income, since the excitement they create helps break down the customers' wallets. For knobs who love to take on new girls, nothing commands as high a price as the lady in the orange bungee. One knows at a glance she's fresh, innocent, and ready for raping. At your kiosk upstairs men will surrender more than a month's income just to have a go at you. But they must pay even more to have your nose and throat bungees kept in place. Otherwise we unclip them during his time with you. Knobs aren't doing you any favors by being cheap, either. When they do that you are punished in two ways. Number one way is you get less pay. Cadet bonuses are based solely on the sale of extras, those fees that are added on to basic charges. A cadet gets 30 percent of any extra credits her customer buys, plus 60 percent of his gratuity, but only when extras are purchased. Otherwise her tip share drops to 30 percent. Our studies have shown that girls without bungee neck and face restraints get less than half the tips than the girls whose necks and nostrils are corded. The psychology of extras is cumulative, and so are the profits; the hornier a customer gets, the more they snowball. So we promote this process in many ways. Daily prizes are earned by cadets who get the largest credit values of their team, upsell the highest ratios of customers, and have the best increase in extras sold from the previous day."

"Number two way the conservative knobs hurt you," Captain Neesha concluded, "Has to do with pain. Bungees are quickly reattached between customers along with the torture gag, and mystery penalties are assessed, so in the long run it ends up being much worse for you than leaving them on in the first place. The girls are ready to take you upstairs now, dear. You'll be in the expert hands of Entertainment Captain Lauren and her beautiful staff of sentinels and maids. Have a good time, darling, and make me proud. I'll see you in the break area in about 6 hours."

Thru a haze of pain and conflicting emotions, Maddy blinked twice to her beautiful captain as the two dressers wheeled her away toward a large freight elevator at the far end of the room. The platform she was fastened to was sturdy, but not smooth-rolling. She could feel every bump and wiggle being transmitted from its wheels to the plumb bobs swinging from her sore titties. The steel tube running behind her legs and beneath her tummy and chest was good for holding her in her bent-forward position, but little else. It offered no stability at all. The rubber straps that attached her to it at the calves, knees, thighs, waist, and chest had enough stretch in them to let her slip a little from side to side as they pushed her along, straining her leg and back muscles continually, and putting more stress on her neck bungee than she knew how to deal with. Maddy couldn't decide which area hurt worse, her packed and garotted throat, her armbindered shoulders, her clamped and weighted breasts, or her mercilessly arched feet which, clamped inside their steel shells, placed her body weight squarely on the tips of her toes. Finally she decided that above this tapestry of pain her nose hook was the worst. Somehow, it remained uppermost in her thoughts, as it pulled against her tiny nostrils. It did worse than hurt her physically. It distressed her emotionally. She could feel it cancelling out the erotic beauty of her sumptuously madeup face, degrading her with each passing moment, and for all the world to see. As they waited for the elevator doors to open, bitter tears ?owed from Maddy's eyes.

When the elevator doors reopened, Maddy was embraced by the distinctive chimes of slot machines and other casino games, and the busy babble of excited customers. Amusement room 4 was a brightly lit ballroom with beautiful red carpets and sparkling chandeliers. It was barely eight o'clock in the morning, yet a good crowd of people was already on hand, crisply dressed in formal evening wear. The eager smiles and soft whistles surrounding her told her that she had been the first to arrive. The dressers pushed her up to a large round table in the center of the room and turned her until her back faced it. She could see the elevator door reopen a moment later, and another latex-bound girl was wheeled out by two sticker-suited dressers. This girl was a petite blond whose large blue eyes registered the same depths of pain and humiliation that Maddy felt. Maddy recognized her as Petra, a beautiful Belgian girl who tested out of school early and falsified her age when she applied to Chalet, Inc. Maddy discovered her secret as they studied together during orientation. Petra's predicament appeared to be identical to Maddy's, and her nose hooks were bracketed by the same tears of resentment and shame.

Over and over the elevator door reopened, and another Chalet girl emerged. All were dressed and bound identically, with their orange-bungeed throats gagging on ten-inch columns of latex, and their eyes streaming silent tears. Each was greeted appreciatively by noisy customers whose numbers were growing. The girls were wheeled up to similar positions just outside the ten-foot perimeter of the glass-covered table. Finally, twelve cadets were equally spaced around the table, arranged like spokes from the center of a wheel, each with two dresser attendants standing alongside them at stiff attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," an announcer's voice boomed across the ballroom, "We proudly present to you our newest class of Chalet-Boston Cadets, Class 15 of year 2066. Fresh from orientation, these ladies are ready to begin their arduous Chalet Girl careers. Each one has met our exacting standards for beauty, intelligence and complicity. Each of these lovely ladies has given their complete and unconditional consent. You will be the very first ones to experience them in this way. And remember, each cadet has been painfully bound in a fashion that they themselves could not have imagined just one short hour ago. Please... give them a warm greeting and enjoy them in good health, because ...you....WON'T be disappointed!"

The crowd erupted with applause and cheers. They were excited already, but watching the beautiful kiosk virgins being delivered to them one by one in excruciating bondage had them at fever pitch. Hearing the announcer recite Chalet International's famous motto sent them over the top. Printed countless times in glossy magazine ads and recited for years on sultry TV and radio ad campaigns, the phrase "You WON'T be disappointed" had become the most recognizable business slogan on earth. A gorgeous woman emerged from the edge of the turbulent crowd, dressed in a captain's day suit and collar. It was Captain Lauren. She clapped her hands twice, and the 24 tightly-gagged dresser attendants went into motion. They pushed their sexy prisoners' platforms back simultaneously until the cadets' latex-coated bottoms met the center post beneath the table. Dressers busied themselves with the central post, which was an instrument-laden metallic cylinder about three feet wide. There were 12 docking stations at the table's hub, one corresponding to each cadet's posterior. The red and green tubes emerging from their ass plugs and urethra plugs were connected to corresponding color coded tubes on the hub. A nine-inch steel prong was lifted up and inserted thru a hidden slit at the crotch of each cadet's catsuit, located directly over the girls vaginal openings. The tubular prongs were mounted on adjustable metal pivots, and once pressed deep inside the girls' vaginas, were angled upward to hold each girl in position. After this fitting was complete four special clips at the base of the prongs were engaged, snapping onto the outer labia of the girls vaginas. These clips had serrated jaws, and were astonishingly painful. They were designed to hold the girls' pussies fully onto the prongs and to make any rear movements or struggles futile and highly unpleasant for the kiosk captives.

After the girls' pussy-plugs were properly aligned and secured, their dressers engaged several switches, powering up special devices inside the docking units. Dressers clipped round devices to cadets' earlobes connected by slender wires to thick waxy ear plugs. Resembling the large plastic ear jewelry that refreshment maids wore, these earpieces were called earwires, and served a dual function. Sounds were transmitted and regulated into cadets' ears through a system called the sentinel relay. One sentinel captain and a corresponding sentinel attendant were responsible for every two cadets during kiosk duty. Sitting in control rooms with small windows overlooking the enormous glass covering of the kiosk table, sentinel captains communicated with both cadets and attendants from their headsets, giving them orders, admonishments, and encouragements, as well as income updates or any other type of information the captains deemed necessary. At the same time, the earwires gathered and transmitted vital information back to the sentinel captains, who continually tracked their two cadets' temperatures, heart rates, fluid balances, blood pressures, etc. Adding once again to the poor cadets' cacophony of pain, these two-way radio devices utilized sharp jaws similar to their pussy clips, but much narrower so as to focus more pressure on the sensitive lobes of their ears. The earwires currently emitted white noise, a sufficient amount of it to cancel out any discussion or sounds in the room. Until they were removed, the only sounds the cadets would hear were the ones that their sentinel captains wanted them to hear.

"When will they ever finish?" Maddy thought despondently, her body a quivering riot of pain signals, twinges of excitement and pangs of raw fear, "When will they be done with these endless preparations, and leave us alone to suck these men off?" Her medication was doing its work, keeping the nerves at peak sensitivity throughout her body. In spite of the pain she was feeling, the Vector drug had piqued her pleasure centers beyond belief, and she desperately needed to come.

It was just as captain Neesha had told her. Maddy's pussy tingled and dripped with unbearable arousal, and her throat ached with more than the unnatural pain and pressure of her torture gag and garotte. Maddy burned with a supernatural desire to feel something stroking and rubbing against the walls of her mouth and throat. If that meant a man's hard cock, or twenty men's hard cocks, then so be it. It was a maddening itch she couldn't scratch. The cold steel prod in her pussy made her shiver, and the labia clips felt like snakes biting her. But they still brought welcome reassurance. At least now she knew that when her customers finally appeared she would have something to bear down on to achieve orgasm, and hopefully, distract her from her chemically-induced oral cravings. But when? When would their cocks arrive? She couldn't wait..

As if answering Maddy's silent prayers, and those of other girls alongside her, the dressers stood proudly and marched to the far end of the room for Captain Lauren's inspection. The beautifully crimson-lipped, auburn-haired captain walked slowly past the row of 24 women, appraising their appearance and composure, pulling this, and checking that. "Well done, ladies," she said at last, "Everyone here did their jobs correctly today, and should receive four less stickers in their suits on their next shift. Except for you, Theresa, and Marie. Your gags and neckropes aren't on tightly enough, and some of your hair has come undone. I won't tolerate sloppiness in my room, girls. Everyone report immediately to your costume captains for a five-sticker increase, and two hours of restroom cleaning. Theresa and Marie, you are to report for three hours of personal duty to captain's lounge number 2 at eighteen hundred. Be in groomer's suits. Properly fitted. You are all dismissed to return to your departments now."

The attendants blinked and nodded respectfully, and marched single file to the elevators. From a doorway on the opposite wall, twelve women entered the room at the same time, much to the delight of the crowd. Six of them were lovely refreshment maids, flashing radiantly red smiles and shuffling along in their shining steel enclosures. The other six were sentinel attendants, usually called sentinel maids. They wore peach-colored lycra suits stretched over the same type of sticker-equipped rubber suits that the dresser attendants wore. Other than the color difference, their attire was identical to what the blue dressers wore, except in two ways. Sentinel maids had the painfully clipped-on earwires that kiosk cadets wore, and were not required to wear gags. Sentinel maids wore the same head harnesses and neckropes as refreshment maids and dresser attendants, but like the refreshment maids, sentinel maids needed unfettered mouths to do their duties. Their heavily lacquered lips were on full display at all times, adding to their customers' pleasure, and their tip tally, as they smiled, answered questions and requests, managed the flow of knobs to their cadets, and responded to the directions of their sentinel captains upstairs.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Captain Lauren called enthusiastically, "These twelve lovely Chalet girls are now ready to pleasure you. We first need to get everyone into their proper lines. Seven of you are reserved for each of them this morning, meaning that during the next five hours, 84 customers in this room will get to experience an incredible 40-minute session with a true kiosk virgin. Some of you have a ticket in your hand with a number on it that you've paid a handsome price for. Hold onto it carefully and line up over there where a large star in the carpet has the same color as your card. There are twelve stars that match your 12 different ticket colors. Line up in the order of your ticket number beginning with numbers one through seven. Chairs will be made available for those of you who want them. We've all been having fun up until now, and the noise was not a problem, but I require everyone in line to be quiet now, because we are managing sound files and making high-resolution videos today. I know it can be disappointing to have to line up more than forty feet away from the action, but the quality of time each of you receives during your turn with a cadet is well worth the effort the rest of us makes not to crowd anyone or make distracting noises. Video screens above the wall nearest to you will provide the benefit of live close ups, and attendants will bring you complimentary food and drinks orders while you wait. I trust the time will pass pleasantly for you. If any of you has a question or a special request, tell your attendant to notify me and we will look into it. Everyone not holding a reservation ticket must leave the ballroom now. All the rooms adjacent to this one have plenty of seating and large live-action screens that you will find very enjoyable to watch. By the way, in this room my word is law. Anyone not obeying me will be asked to leave Chalet-Boston immediately and permanently. Let's go, folks."

The excited crowd followed her instructions quickly and to the letter. She whispered something to a pair of pretty sentinel maids, then looked up to the sentinel captains, whom she outranked, and winked happily. Moving smoothly on their high-heeled boots, the two maids traversed the large room to inform twelve lucky customers with the number one on their cards that it was their time to come forward. The bizarre spectacle was about to begin....