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Charlotte II
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
CHARLOTTE II
By Parker & ?????
WARNING: This story contains bondage, non-consensual sex,
d/s, humiliation and other similar elements. If you do not
enjoy reading this sort of fantasy, STOP NOW (before it is
too late). OK? You have been warned.
Copyright 1993 by me (Parker) and ???. Feel free to
distribute (unaltered), but be discrete.
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It was time to begin in earnest.
"Get your cocks out boys," she ordered, a cruel smile on her
face. The manager quickly translated her statement into
Portuguese, and then followed the order himself. Fransesca
examined the exposed cocks in satisfaction; they would do nicely.
One of the men even sported what must have been at least an
eleven inch monster of a penis. Perhaps later, she herself
would...
The same bold cook who had earlier tormented Charlotte moved
forward and tried to press his cock against the girl's barely-
covered pussy.
"No!" Fransesca spoke sharply, using a tone of voice
calculated to establish control, regardless of the lack of a
common language. "You're not fucking her. She's going to suck you
off." She waited while the manager translated her words before
continuing. "And none of you are going to cum until I say! Do you
understand?" Once again, the manager translated. The men looked a
little disgruntled at this requirement, but nodded their
agreement. The thought of that snooty little desk clerk being
forced to wrap her sexy lips around their cocks was irresistible.
They would have agreed to anything.
Fransesca turned her attention back to Charlotte. Still held
down by the back of her neck, the girl had fallen to her knees
and was waiting quietly, head down, seemingly resigned to her
fate. The skirt, never particularly concealing, now rode high on
her rump, exposing long, slender legs right up to her ass crack.
Fransesca leaned down to whisper some final orders in the
poor girl's ear. "Keep your hands behind your back, holding up
the hem of your skirt, slut!" Charlotte, now crying, moved to
obey. Her trembling hands hesitantly pulled the short skirt up,
completely exposing her backside. "Now," Fransesca continued,
"I'm going to spank you until all of your friends here are ready
to cum, so you'd be well advised to give them your best efforts!"
She shoved downwards and released her hold on the girl's
neck. Shaking her head in mute denial, Charlotte knelt on all
fours on the thick carpet. She looked up to see that the men had
formed a queue in front of her, the manager at its front; his
cock hung limply from the fly of his dress trousers.
"It's not very clean" he said apologetically, smirking down
at his employee. "But don't worry, it will be by the time you're
finished."
This was too much for Charlotte. Mouth held firmly closed,
turned her head away from his limp cock. Francesca knelt behind
the girl and raised her palm.
SLAP!
"Ow!" Charlotte, recoiling from the impact, instinctively
dropped her gloved hands to protect her reddening ass.
"STAY STILL!" Fransesca shouted, "AND MOVE THOSE HANDS
AWAY." Sobbing, Charlotte obeyed, once again pulling the skirt up
on her thighs. "Now open your mouth," she was ordered. "The
spanking will continue until you are finished."
SLAP!
Charlotte trembled in shock as Fransesca's hand was once
again brought painfully down onto her exposed ass, but followed
orders, opening her mouth as wide as it would go. The manager
looked down at his subservient employee, enjoying the sight of
her pouting lips opening to accommodate his member. He decided
that he could get used to this. As he slipped his cock in,
Francesca brought down her palm again, and Charlotte started
energetically sucking on him. A few seconds later, as the manager
grew visibly harder inside her mouth, Francesca momentarily
stopped the spanking and grabbed the girl roughly by the ears.
"Come on my petite bimbo! Open up; let me see your pretty
little tongue cleaning your nice manager's cock!" She pulled the
girl's head back, and watched in delight as the maid/receptionist
obediently ran her pink tongue all around the manager's still-
growing cock head, collecting lumps of smegma as she licked. The
man was soon groaning in pleasure at the sight of the girl
kneeling before him in absolute submission. Impulsively, he took
hold of her pony tail and yanked her head towards him, driving
his cock down her throat.
"Let me feel your throat around me Charlotte!" he ordered,
voice hoarse, as he slid his nine inches of throbbing manhood
deep into her face. "Arggghh - the slut's gagging on me - merde!
it feels good!" The sight of the girl's slender neck contracting
around his cock heightened his feeling. Before he could come,
however, Francesca ordered him away, and gestured for one of the
cooks to take his place.
The first cook was a huge, bearded man, his thick, hairy
arms covered with tattoos. He wasted no time in thrusting his
greasy cock between the Charlotte's still-parted lips and then
fucking her face, his cock driving down into her throat. Gasping
for air, Charlotte tried to pull back, but her assailant grabbed
ahold of her ears and pulled so that she had no option but to
take the whole penis down her throat.
SLAP!
Fransesca, delighted at what was taking place before her
eyes, had resumed the spanking.
After a minute or two, Francesca ordered the man to the back
of the queue and allowed a younger cook - the one with the eleven
inch penis - to enjoy the sensation of Charlotte's moist young
mouth. Gagging and chocking, Charlotte accommodated it as best
she could.
The sucking continued for some time. As each man looked like
he was just about to come, Fransesca got him to pull out and move
to the back of the queue. The rotation moved quicker and quicker
as each man was sucked again and again by the sobbing girl. After
each of the six men had enjoyed Charlotte's mouth three times
they were all visibly ready to orgasm.
'Time for phase two,' Fransesca decided. She stopped
spanking and began to speak. "Form a circle around her. I want
you to cum in her hair, on her face or her dress. Charlotte, you
will lick and touch them until they cum all over you!"
Charlotte, momentarily unrestrained, tried to stand up. She
had to get away! No job could be worth this price. It was a
futile effort, however. As she began to pull herself to her feet,
Fransesca grabbed her by her ponytail and pushed her back to her
knees.
There was no escape. Hand firmly gripping the poor girl's
hair, Fransesca leaned forward and whispered: "I'm going to allow
you thirty seconds, slut. If they're not finished in time - if
they haven't cum all over you - then they will cumming up your
ass. It's your choice!"
Fresh sobs wracking her abused body, Charlotte started
frantically licking and sucking at the circle of cocks, sweat and
pre-cum dripping down her lovely face and smearing her carefully
applied make-up. She used her long, slim fingers to masturbate
two men while bobbing her mouth up and down on a third. She felt
her hair being yanked cruelly as a man wrapped it around his cock
using it as a make-shift cunt. One man pulled open the
elasticated frilly arms of her dress, pushing his cock under the
lace and against her shoulder. Another pushed his cock down into
her cleavage, while the seventh - the Captain had at last decided
to join in - had wrapped her frilly skirt around his penis and
was masturbating it up and down his erect cock. She was now
servicing seven men at once.
For Fransesca, however, it was still not enough.
"You've got twenty seconds Charlotte!" she warned, pitching
her voice above the groans and sobs. "Say slutty things about
yourself while these nice men bring themselves off!"
The terrified girl pulled her mouth of the cock and, after
coughing, began to speak. "I'm a slut..." she said, her voice
faltering as she cried in shame. "I'm..."
"Be more dirty!" Francesca interrupted slapping Charlotte's
tear-stained face. Charlotte choked back her sobs and obeyed as
best she could. The man whose cock she had been sucking began to
run his hand up and down its well-greased length, all the time
keeping it pointed directly at her face.
"FUCK... FUCK MY FACE. I'M A DIRTY SLAVE SLUT. HURT ME, MAKE
ME CRY - I DESERVE IT!" she cried. Desperate to make the men cum
before Fransesca carried out her threat of allowing them to rape
her ass, she began to lick at the cocks surrounding her, speaking
as best she could between slurps.
"MAKE ME SICK WITH YOUR SPERM, DRIP IT ONTO ME AND MAKE ME
LOOK LIKE THE BITCH THAT I AM." Moving as quickly as she could,
Charlotte moved from cock to cock, licking, sucking, rubbing,
kissing... doing everything possible to make them cum all over
her.
"I'M A SLUT... I'M A WHORE... CUM ALL OVER ME!"
That did it. One of the cocks in her hand begin to jerk.
"In your hair slut!" Francesca told her, grabbing the girl's
hand and directing the cock as the first string of sperm flew
through the air and landed with a audible splat in her pretty
blonde pony-tail.
"Oui! I'm cumming," cried the manager, his cum spraying the
upper part of her tits and maid's dress and dripping down towards
the apron.
"Make sure it all drips onto you bitch! Anything falls on
the carpet and you're licking it up."
But nothing fell on the carpet.
Thankful to have succeeded in making the men cum within the
thirty seconds, Charlotte squeezed every last drop from the men's
cocks, making sure that it all landed somewhere on her body. Jet
after jet of thick, white cum covered her face, hair and dress.
All in all, it took under a minute for all the men to empty their
balls over the cum-covered slut. When they were finished they
stood back to admire their work.
Charlotte kneeled, gasping in the middle of their circle.
Her little silk dress was now covered with white sperm, the thick
fluid dripping down the material until it congealed and dried.
Smears of glistening white jism marked, slug-like, the trails it
had taken down her face and upper chest, and her hair was matted
with glistening cum.
"You stink like a pig!" remarked the manager, laughing at
the kneeling, crying girl.
"Good work!" remarked Francesca, motioning to the Captain.
As the cooks pulled up their slacks, he gave each of them a one
thousand franc note, thanking them for their efforts, and then
showed them to the door.
While he did this, Francesca pulled the manager to one side.
"Fancy finding Charlotte looking like this in a bedroom with
five men!" she commented. "What a slut! And for someone in a
position of responsibility at the hotel? Don't you think that
your other employees should be informed?"
The manager was momentarily taken aback. What was this
leading to? His puzzlement showed on his face. Fransesca sighed
dramatically.
"I hardly think that Charlotte could resume her former
position here if word got out about her... activities?"
"Ahh..." Things were becoming somewhat clearer. "Perhaps I
begin to understand. But I promised her..."
"I'm not suggesting you fire her," Fransesca smirked,
guessing at the promises the manager might have made to convince
the desk clerk to act as a chambermaid. "Merely that a... new
position might be a little more suitable for her. I'm certain
that, after a little training, her employment at the hotel could
be both long and... profitable."
"Ah," the manager prompted, at last understanding the game,
"And you might be able to help out with this... training?"
Fransesca laughed delightedly. "But of course," she
answered. "I would be glad to lend my assistance." She looked
over at Charlotte who, still dripping with cum, had struggled to
her feet. The Captain stood behind her, ensuring that she would
not escape. "With a little work," she murmured, "I'm sure her
career at the hotel could easily be advanced. The first step is
to ruin her reputation among the employees."
"Ahh." The manager nodded in agreement. He would play along.
Having agreed on a course of action, Francesca and the
manager turned and ordered Charlotte to approach them. She
obeyed, her head bowed in shame, still dripping cum onto the
carpet.
"The manager is going to walk you through the hotel's back
rooms." Fransesca was all business now. "You will confess to any
man that should see you that this is your responsibility, and
invite him to enjoy your mouth. Only when every male member of
the staff has had the chance to enjoy you, and all the woman have
seen you, will I expect you back!" She expected some sort of
reaction, but the girl had lost any will to fight. Sobbing
quietly, Charlotte followed the manager as he left the room.
Once again alone, Francesca and the Captain sat down and
fixed themselves another drink. Both were excited and horny from
watching the receptionist's humiliation, and took showers in
advance of the evening's entertainment.
Within the hour, the five crew-members had arrived and were
awaiting the whores. They didn't have long to wait, and they
weren't disappointed. 'School-girl Sherri' turned out to be a
young-looking woman with long, brown hair done up in pig-tails.
And Debbie, the Captain's choice, measured up beautifully, with
curly, platinum-blonde hair and large, firm breasts. Drinks were
poured, rates discussed and payment made.
Now, only one thing was missing...
"But I don't know," the manager protested, having been
called back up to the penthouse. "I'll find out." Picking up the
telephone he dialled Housekeeping.
"'Allo? 'Allo..." It was a woman. She had to shout over some
sort of commotion going on around her.
"Is this Housekeeping?" the manager asked, also shouting.
"No," came the answer. "This is Housekeeping."
"This is Henri. What's happening down there?"
"Oh... nothing monsieur.. nothing at all!" she said,
plainly lying.
"Madame, I am the manager. I do not expect to be lied to.
You will tell me exactly what is happening or I will ensure that
you lose your job. You will answer at once!"
Sensing some entertainment, Fransesca hit the 'speaker'
button on the telephone. Now everyone in the room could hear what
was being said.
"Monsieur, I apologise! I did not realise!" the woman said,
clearly afraid for her employment.
"Don't worry Madame! Just tell me what is going on! In
english, if you please." This was in deference to Fransesca,
whose french was limited.
"Monsieur, I fear I cannot tell you! It is dreadful!"
"Madame," the manager said, losing patience, "If you want to
continue as an employee of this hotel, I suggest you overcome
these inhibitions and explain yourself!"
"It is the young receptionist, Charlotte!" the woman
explained, clearly distraught. "It would seem that she has
engaged in some sort of an orgy with the customers... and members
of the staff. Her body and clothings is covered with man's....
er, man's....."
Fransesca grabbed the phone. "A man's semen?" she asked.
"Yes Mademoiselle, Man's semen! It is shocking that she is
such a slut! I believed her to be innocent and good, but it seems
I was wrong! Now she has touched herself while many of the men
here make their, er, semen, onto her face, and other men make sex
with her mouth..." In her excitement, the housekeeper's english
began to falter.
"Madame?" called Francesca. "I hear the sound of women's
voices. Are they shouting?"
"Oui Mademoiselle. They are angry because the slut has had
love with their men!"
"Are they? How did they find out?" asked Francesca, who was
now becoming very interested in the woman's account.
"But it was obvious from her appearance. They also are
receptionists, waitresses, and maids here at the hotel. They have
tied Charlotte to the sinks!"
"And what are they doing?" Francesca had hitched up her
tight white skirt and pressed the palm of her hand against her
pussy as she listened in anticipation. This was even better than
she had hoped.
"They throw the rotting food and vegetables at her Madame!
No...wait! They have thrown cans of food at her, to make her
bruise. I fear that they might kill the slut!"
"Do not worry," Fransesca told her. "The manager will be
right down."
Taking his cue, Henri bustled out of the room.
"You have been most helpful, and we shall ensure that you
are suitably rewarded!" Fransesca kept the woman on the line,
listening with malicious pleasure as the housekeeper gave an
account of Charlotte's continuing predicament.
A few moments later, however, the manager's voice came onto
the line. "Hello? Mademoiselle D'Abrette?"
"Yes Monsieur, I am still here. It sounds like young
Charlotte is having a rough time down there!"
"Oui Madame... It is true. But I think you would approve!"
"Yes," Fransesca agreed, "I rather think I would, but that
is enough for now. I do not want her damaged. Yet. You must tell
them that Charlotte will be temporarily leaving the hotel for re-
training. Let them know that they will be seeing her again soon."
"Of course Madame. And then?"
"And then bring her up," Fransesca ordered. "We still need a
maid for the party."
By the time Henri arrived with his cum-encrusted charge, the
party was in full swing. Sherri was "entertaining" two crew
members at once while being energetically spanked by a third,
while the Captain exercised the privileges of rank on Debbie's
ass as she stood, bent over the couch. The other crew members
took advantage of the well-stocked bar, waiting their turns.
There was no rush; the party was going to last all night.
Unexpectedly, it was the whore Debbie who reacted when
Charlotte was led into the room. Having sucked off a good dozen
or so men after her exploits in the penthouse, the young girl was
again glistening with fresh cum. Her costume, never all that
concealing in the first place, was stained and torn in a number
of places, exposing large patches of abused flesh.
"My god," Debbie exclaimed (somewhat inappropriately) as the
Captain fucked her from behind, "It is her. The one who gave us
the trouble last week."
Fransesca, grinning, walked over to the trembling girl.
"Trouble?" she asked.
"Mais oui," came the answer. "She got us kicked out of the
hotel. She makes trouble for all the prostitutes." Sherri grunted
her agreement around the cock in her mouth.
"You don't like prostitutes," Fransesca laughed, running a
long, sharp fingernail down Charlotte's face. The poor girl said
nothing; she just trembled, looking at her tormentor with large,
frightened blue eyes.
"Nothing to say for yourself? Ah... young girls are so shy.
Well, you have had enough fun for one evening. For the rest of
the night, you are to act as our maid, serving everyone at the
party. Do you understand?"
Charlotte nodded, broken. It was not in her to refuse this
woman anything. But still...
"M-madame," she stuttered, "After... after tonight; you will
let me go?"
"But of course," Fransesca lied easily. "I have spoken with
the manager. He knows you are only to act as a maid for one night
only. I have arranged for him to place you in a special position
in the hotel as a result of your service to me."
Somewhat reassured, Charlotte began her evening's duties.
She spent the next several hours moving about the room as
gracefully as she could manage, taking empty glasses, pouring and
serving drinks and generally acting the perfect maid while a
veritable orgy raged around her. She was touched and fondled
numerous times by the men, but she was not otherwise molested.
Even Fransesca ignored her, except for the occasional reminder to
keep her legs straight and slightly parted when bending over.
The sky was visibly brighter in the east when the party
finally died down. The whores were paid extra and sent away.
Exhausted, Charlotte stood in the corner, waiting to be released
as the men got dressed and filed out of the room, anxious to be
gone with the tide.
At last Fransesca turned to her.
"You have done beautifully tonight," she told the girl.
"And, as I promised, I have arranged with Henri for you to be
placed in a new position at the hotel. This position, however,
will require some additional training."
"T-training?" Charlotte's lower lip began to tremble.
"Fortunately," Fransesca continued, "I have had some
experience in these matters, and have decided to look after your
education personally. The manager has agreed."
"Noooo...." Unable to prevent herself, Charlotte burst into
tears. It was not over after all. She was still crying when
Fransesca and the Captain led her out the back entrance and down
to the docks, still wearing the cum-stained chambermaid costume.
Henri surveyed the wreckage of his penthouse and frowned.
There were hours of work to be done here. Fortunately, the
D'Abrette pockets were very deep, and would pay for the labour
without even noticing the cost. Perhaps he would even add on ten
percent or so as a "tip" for himself.
Sighing, he stepped to the window and looked southward to
where a small launch approached the 'Monaco Nypmh'. If he had
possessed a set of binoculars, he would have been able to watch
his young employee, still crying and struggling, being fondled by
Fransesca D'Abrette in the back of the launch.
He didn't have the binoculars, however, and so turned away
and back towards the penthouse and work. Life went on, and he
would have to arrange for a new receptionist for the afternoon
shift...
Ahh... and he must remember to inform his wife about dinner
with Fransesca next week.
EPILOGUE
ONE WEEK LATER...
Henri watched anxiously as Charlotte, still wearing the
frilly maid outfit, obediently followed along behind Fransesca
D'Abrette as the millionairess strode confidently into his office
in the hotel. The Captain, taking up the rear, came in after them
and closed the door. The manager studied his young employee,
looking vainly for signs of abuse. She was physically unmarked,
but her demeanour had changed considerably. Rather than the self-
confident young woman he had hired as a desk clerk just over
three months ago, he saw a frightened, subservient girl, blue
eyes cast downward, trembling body awaiting the commands of her
cruel mistress.
Or, it immediately occurred to him, her master.
"Monsieur," Fransesca greeted him brightly, "I have come to
return your property. The training is complete."
"C-complete, Madame?" To his annoyance, the manager found
his voice catching in his throat.
"Oh yes," she answered, smiling. "Quite complete. Perhaps a
demonstration, while we discuss legal matters?" Henri started to
ask what she meant by "legal matters", but fell silent when
Fransesca turned to the girl.
"Charlotte," came the order, "the last time you were with
your manager you performed fellatio on him in a crude and
ineffective manner. Show him how you have improved." Without a
word or any other sign of objection, the girl moved forward, fell
gracefully to her knees, and pulled his cock out of his trousers.
Henri swallowed as he felt her lips, soft and warm, encircle his
penis. He had enough experience to recognize the level of skill
and effort she was expending; she had clearly had a lot of
practice over the last week.
"Now Henri," Fransesca continued, satisfied with Charlotte's
performance, "we have a few matters to discuss." She handed over
a piece of paper. "This is Charlotte's new contract."
Trying to concentrate, Henri scanned the paper. It was a
standard "personal services" contract; the employee - Charlotte -
was employed to provide "entertainment services" for certain
guests of the hotel, in return for which the management would
provide room and board; no salary was mentioned. The contract -
perfectly legal as far as he could tell - required only the
signature of the manager of the hotel to make it binding, as
Charlotte had already signed.
Henri looked up from the document. "Entertainment services?"
Fransesca smiled. "Charlotte," she said, "Tell your new
master what your duties are to be."
Charlotte paused in her task and pulled her mouth from his
cock. Lips glistening with drool and pre-cum, she looked up at
him with her large blue eyes and began to speak. "Monsieur, I am
to be attached to a special room which will be set aside for
friends of my mistress; I will provide 'services' for them during
their stay. When the room is empty, I am to live with the kitchen
staff, cleaning their quarters and providing any other s-services
they require."
The girl fell silent, still looking up. 'Waiting for further
orders,' the manager realized.
"Very good," Fransesca praised her, giving her head a pat.
"Now back to work." Charlotte obediently slid her lips back over
the manager's penis and resumed her labours.
"Special room?" the manager asked, suddenly short of breath.
"Check with Paris," Fransesca told him, referring to the
head office. "It's all arranged. Two friends of mine from
Scotland - Nigel and Miriam Hammersmith - will be visiting next
week. They have expressed an interest in young Charlotte."
The manager nodded his understanding. Twisting around as
best he could without pulling his cock free of Charlotte's mouth,
he set the contract down on the desk and signed his name with a
flourish. There; it was done. Charlotte belonged to the hotel
now, for... the next three years???
"Madame," he raised his head. "The duration of the
contract..."
"Is the maximum legal length for such a document," Fransesca
told him. "Any longer and it would not be binding. After the
three years are up, however, I have made other arrangements."
Smiling, she produced a second contract and handed it over.
It was another personal services contract, identical to the
first, except that it was dated as beginning the same day the
hotel contract expired, and it was made for the benefit of one
"Sherri La'Rou". The manager was puzzled for a second, but then
he understood. "Schoolgirl Sherri," he exclaimed. "She will be
working for a whore!"
"Indeed," Fransesca agreed, accepting the document as he
handed it back. "I have spoken to Ms. La'Rou, and our little
Charlotte here will begin her new career as a whore after
finishing here." She reached down and once again patted the poor
girl's head as it bobbed up and down on the manager's cock.
Charlotte groaned in humiliation, but continued her work. The
manager was just about to cum...
"By the time her three years are up with Sherri," Fransesca
continued, "She will be such a hardened little slut that no one
will take her for anything but a whore."
Despite the hellish experiences of the week-long "training",
Charlotte wanted to say something - to protest - but just then,
the manager came in her mouth. As she had been trained to do, the
poor girl sucked it all down, letting only a small trickle escape
down her chin for effect. By now, she had done this scores of
times, and her technique was flawless.
Her efforts earned her a final pat on the head from her
mistress.
Fransesca turned to go. "Don't forget," she called back as
the manager pulled his limp penis from between the kneeling
girl's lips, "dinner tomorrow night."
"Of course," the manager answered after her, "my wife and I
are looking forward to it."
The door swung shut. Henri fell silent, looking down as
Charlotte delicately placed his penis back in his trousers and
zipped them up.
She had indeed been well-trained.
"Well," he said, pulling her to her feet by her pony-tail,
"Let's get you set up in your new home; I'm certain the kitchen
workers will be happy to see you again." He walked out the door
with Charlotte, still silent, still sporting the thin trail of
sperm on her chin, following obediently behind. If he had turned
to look at her as she hastened along behind him, he would have
seen one, large tear well up in a sparkling blue eye, spill over
and run down her cheek.
He did not, however, turn around.
There was no need.
THE END
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