The Ghost of Room 55 (F/F)
Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2024 10:21 pm
Bailey has been unable to get it out of her mind. She had heard about the hotel from some of her friends at work. It's not a massive hotel, she has past by it many times whenever she commutes into town. It's a modest looking building, looks like it was built sometime in the 1920s. Though maybe it's just designed to look older than it actually is. The old three story hotel sits in a busy, but not too busy, urban area. No buildings higher than three or four levels. It sits at a street corner, hugged by a grocery store and some apartments. There is nothing special about the hotel, nothing except the stories Bailey has heard.
Bailey hops off the bus and makes her way to this peculiar hotel, a large bag held by her side. She had heard about the stories years ago, but it was only after a recent halloween 'activity' that her facination in the building got rekindled.
The Horton Hotel is haunted. That is what they say. It looks old enough to be haunted. But why should Bailey care? Every hotel that is old enough for the wallpaper to peel off has a ghost story. But this place, it has a tale that is a little more unique.
Bailey enters the small foyer and greets the woman at the counter. Surprisingly young, Bailey thinks, and attractive. She supposes that everyone needs work at the end of the day. But she was expecting someone who looked as old as the hotel. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, she recites in her head.
"I booked for one night" Bailey says to the young woman. Bailey gives her full name. The woman checks the computer to find the blonde's booking. Bailey sees the nametag on the woman's shirt, Jessie. She has fine frizzy brown hair and a smile that feels sincere and warm, even if she is faking it - Bailey had no way of knowing. Bailey can't help but smile back at the charming girl.
"You from outta town?" Jessie asks.
"No actually, I live not far from here" Bailey says. Jessie tilts her head, her curiosity peaks. She glances back at the computer to reaffirm her curiosity.
"I see you booked room 55."
"I did" Bailey says.
"You've heard about that room have you?"
"No." That was a lie. Bailey has heard about room 55. It's the reason she's here.
"What about it?" Bailey asks the girl. Jessie gives another smile.
"Well - this is what the others told me, but apparently that room is supposed to be haunted. People who book that room feel a certain presence in there. Like they're not alone."
"You mean like a ghost?" Bailey asks.
"Well, the story goes, that there used to be a woman who worked here decades ago. She would bring clients here who were interested in more um... I'll just say, intimate tastes. It's said she would always use number 55. She became such a regular that the owners at the time kept that room dedicated for her and her clients. They had a name for her, it was Miss Velvet maybe? Something like that anyway."
"What happened? Did she die?" Bailey asks.
"I guess so. Oh! Nothing nasty though- nothing like that. I think she retired or something. Apparently she passed away ages back, quite young sadly. But ever since, people have reported they can sense her spirit in that room till this very day. People come round here just to visit room 55 to see if the stories are true. Just between you and me, the owners say they hate the stories but i think they love it! No such thing as bad publicity aye. Anyway, I was just asking in case you were one of those people."
"No I'm not" Bailey says. That was another lie. "Would it have been a problem if i was?"
"No" Jessie smiles. "It's good for business. But it's also good for us to know either way. Besides, someone with your looks? You'd be her type for sure, she might just turn up anyway. Enjoy your stay."
Bailey blushes a little. She's quite a flirt, Bailey thinks. Jessie hands Bailey the key. She takes it with a friendly smile and makes her way up the stairs. It's not the first time Bailey had heard the story, but it is the first time she had heard that version of it. The versions she read online were more macabre. In some, the dominatrix was murdered in cold blood, in others it was the dominatrix who was the killer herself. Most of them involved some dramatic crime of passion. Most of this though seems to he nothing more than people online getting carried away with their imaginations. But there are a few common threads. There was once a dominatrix who used room 55 for all her clients. And when she died, people started reporting feeling her presence in the room; all to this very day. Some people claimed they could smell her rosy perfume, others reported her whispering in their ear. There were other claims though that were a little more outlandish. That is what Bailey wants to figure out.
Bailey unlocks room 55 and steps inside. Like the rest of the hotel, they have kept its original 1920s aesthetic. Though the modern comforts of TV, wifi, proper heating - that is all there too. Bailey shuts the door and places her bag by the bed. The bed still has the old style metal railings at its head and feet. Bailey searches the room, checking every nook and cranny. She wants to make sure there is nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that makes any weird noises, or casts any unusual shadows. Bailey wants to be sure that anything she sees or hears tonight isn't just the whim of some optical illusion. She even goes so far as to check the empty cupboard, she knocks on the back wall. Nothing of interest.
Bailey checks outside the window. The sky is already shading pink and deep blue. It's nearing 7pm. It will be pitch black soon. Bailey isn't sure exactly what she will find. And that is partly the point. The mystery of it excites her. She had brought some special supplies with her, but she is still hot and cold on whether she will use it. There are a few stories she read, saying that if she-
Bailey shakes off the thought. She doesn't feel ready for that. Her heart was thumping too strongly to consider it.
---
11:16pm
Bailey lies in her bed, her eyes looking blankly at the hotel ceiling above her. Her body is in the hotel but her mind is someplace else. She scoffs at herself, what the hell is she doing? Spending some night at some strange hotel for no reason other than to follow some obscure folk story. Bailey had never considered herself superstitious. She was always brought up in a very science first household. But maybe she is more superstitious than she thought. Why would she bother to show up if she didn't at least partly believe there is something to the stories. But that's why she is here, to gather evidence. She's always heard of ghost encounters but now she gets the chance to test one out for herself. Assuming the ghost bothers to show up.
Bailey looks up and checks the clock - 11:20pm. Her head falls back into the pillows impatiently. Maybe she has to wait till the witching hour? She smirks at the thought.
There were some other stories of the hotel she read about while browsing forums after forums. A few really peaked her interest. She can remember the stories almost like they were vivid memories etched into her mind - as if she were there herself. She is not the first to visit the hotel to find proof of the ghoul. And she isn't the first to consider getting clever about it. Another woman (she never gave a name) tried being clever too. Bailey can remember what the woman wrote in her post almost word for word:
"I couldn't help but think. If she's some dominatrix, maybe i could provoke her. Find a way to summon her. If i pretended to be one of her clients, as if she were still alive, maybe her spirit would appear. That's exactly what i did. I went to the hotel, got myself ready and waited. I've never been into that kink stuff. I had to google all the selfbondage stuff, just so i knew what i was doing (my boyfriend had questions lol). I didn't overdo it, just tied myself to the bed. Clothes were still on. Nothing happened at first but i just kept waiting. And then-"
Click - clock
Bailey's loses her train of thought. Her head flips up and her eyes dart around the room. What was that noise? She looks to her side and sees shadows shifting left to right through the sliver of light under the door. Bailey sighs, it's just someone walking past the hallway outside.
---
Cars and trucks beep outside, waking Bailey up from her accidental slumber. No ghost, she thinks. Nothing at all. No smell of perfume or whispered nothings in the ear. Nothing. The morning light fills the room with a warm hue.
Bailey winces to herself - what was she thinking! She was so determined to find this ghost but all she's done is waste fifty dollars. To be fair, it's a magnitude cheaper than the other hotels in the area. Perhaps the super religious aren't too keen to pay a fortune on a hotel with its own local ghoul. Bailey ended up never using the gear in her bag. She couldn't push herself to do it. It's one thing to tie yourself up in the safety of your own home but in a hotel? A haunted hotel no less!
---
Bailey finds Jessie back at the counter, like she never left. Though she's now wearing a cute turtle neck and scarf. Jessie has a soothing cup of tea with her as she gives her neck a light morning stretch.
"Morning" Jessie smiles.
"Morning".
"How was your night? Did you meet Miss Velvet?"
Bailey frowns for a moment, then she remembers. Miss Velvet was the name of the dominatrix.
"No I didn't" Bailey says.
"Ah shame. You must have gotten a good nights rest at least then. Are you checking out?"
"I guess so yeah" Bailey says, gesturing to the packed bag at her side. Bailey hands her key to Jessie but a question in her head stops her.
"Have you ever had an encounter?" Bailey asks.
"With Miss Velvet? A few times."
"What happened?"
Jessie thinks on it for a moment. She bites her lip at the thoughts in her head.
"It was... an encounter I never thought I would have. You can't stumble into it. You have to want it to happen. If you have any doubts, she can tell. She only shows herself to those who want her." Jessie pauses. She looks Bailey up and down, reading her closely. Jessie can see right through her, Bailey can feel it.
"You came here last night cos you wanted to see her, am I right?"
Bailey pauses- "maybe."
"I knew it!" Jessie giggles. "I can always tell. There are people who book room 55 cos they want to see her and then there are liars."
Bailey feels a little taken back by that.
"Oh sorry" Jessie explains. "I'm not taking the micky of you. I understand! Most people who come to see her are too shy to admit it to me. You're not the only one. I was shy about it too when I first came here."
"Has anyone booked room 55 for tonight?" Bailey asks.
"Why do you ask?" Jessie teases.
"I um... well you know" Bailey stammers, more to herself than Jessie.
"If you want to see her, you have to know you want to see her" Jessie says. "Otherwise, she wont show herself to you".
Bailey thinks. Does she want this? Does she want an encounter with Miss Velvet? The answer would seem pretty obvious now surely. But she has commit to wanting it.
"I would like to book room 55 tonight please" Bailey says, conjuring the confidence from inside her. Jessie gives her a wink and checks the computer.
"Let me see... yep, it is available tonight. Lucky you. I'll book you in right away."
Well since I'm going to stay here an extra night, Bailey thinks, what am I gonna do before then.
Bailey heads back to room 55 to leave her gear. She hurries downstairs and out the door. She has nothing on today, guess she'll just have to spend her time in town. Jessie gives her a cute wave as she exits the hotel.
---
It was a surprisingly big day for Bailey. She had a look at the local art gallery. Very snobby, she thought, though she had never been one to understand the meaning behind a gumboot in an empty room. She enjoyed a nice meal and drink at a bar with a friend - talking about work and all the latest gossip.
Bailey notices the sun is already going down as she walks back to the hotel. She makes it inside the foyer, where she notices Jessie. She's putting on her coat and heading home. The two share a brief smile as the young woman heads outside. Bailey carries herself up the stairs and to her room, feeling a little more nervous and excited with every step. Eventually she makes it up to the third floor and into room 55.
Everything in Bailey's scenario needs to go to plan. She can't have the cleaners walking in on her - not that they would, but she doesn't want any risks. She shuts and locks the door to her room. Not secure enough. She takes a chair from the corner and secures it under the handlebar of the door. Even if the staff somehow made a mistake and tried to enter the room to clean it, even if they had a staff key, the chair would still keep them out. Bailey really is in a locked room scenario now. She closes and locks the windows. She checks every inch of the room once more, in case anything has changed from last night. It's all the same. Bailey looks over to her bag - it's time.
Bailey is going to pretend to be a client. But she is going to commit. Whatever happens, happens. And whatever doesn't, doesn't. She strips, removing her jacket, shirt and jeans. She strips till she is naked. She opens her special bag, places it on the bedside drawer and pulls out her supplies. She ties two ropes to the foot of her bed, one on each side. Then at the head of the bed she ties one rope to the middle of the railing. Bailey can already feel her heart thumping. This is no longer just a story on a forum post. She grabs a special set of cuffs from the bag. They're a pair of self timer cuffs. All she has to do is set in the time she wants and then the cuffs will stay locked until it hits zero. It's currently 9pm now, Bailey sees on the clock. So maybe she should set it to two hours? Maybe three?
Bailey sets the cuff for three hours. Three hours she will be completely at the mercy of this hotel spectre. Bailey hops on the bed for her final preperations. She grabs the two ropes tied to the foot of the bed and ties her feet to them. First she ties her right ankle, then she has to stretch to really reach the other rope so she can tie her left. Her regular yoga stretches finally have some use, she jokes to herself. Done. Her legs are snugly bound to the corners of the bed - spread wide. Bailey reaches for the rope at the head of the bed and grabs her cuffs. She ties the rope to the chain between the cuffs, keeping them firmly held to the bed.
Now for the point of no return.
Three hours, Bailey thinks.
She rests on her back and lifts her hands above her head. She has to stretch a bit to reach the cuffs. She feeds her hands through the handcuffs and locks them in place. Her heart thumps when she hears the click. She twists about, testing her restraints - she's not going anywhere. She is stuck on the bed, stretched out like an upside down Y. Bailey relaxes into her selfbondage predicament and observes the room around her.
The lights are still on. That was deliberate. She kept them on so if the ghost ever turns up, she'll be able to see it. Though the lights are on a dimmer, she couldn't help but dim them down a little. She couldn't help it, she wanted some element of atmosphere.
The room is quiet. Not a peep. Even the hallway outside is dead.
Bailey glances up at the clock - 9:17pm. She has to be patient. Ghost or no ghost, she can't expect something to happen the moment the cuffs go click.
---
Bailey wakes up. She must have dozzed off. How did that happen? She gives her arms and legs a tug, still, she's bound to the bed. Still bound, still naked. The feeling makes her realise just how exposed she is, her legs held open for any intruder to do their bidding. She glances at the time. Quarter to ten. It was only a light nap then, she thinks. Bailey glances round the room once again, checking the shut curtains, the chair blocking the door, the lights going off.
The lights going off?
She can't believe it at first, but the lights above her are flickering. Maybe there's some problem with the power. The lights flicker and waver for a few moments. This didn't happen last night, Bailey thinks. And at that moment, the lights go dead.
The room is pitch black.
Bailey can only see the vague inpressions of the room now. All detail is lost, it's simply too dark. All she can see now is the blotchy black shapes of the furniture. But her ears are heightened.
Creak.
It came from the closet. Bailey's breath picks up as the patchy image of the closet door slowly peeps open. Bailey cannot believe her eyes. Could it be she's dreaming? She did fall asleep a moment ago, maybe she still is. But she can't be. If she were dreaming, surely her realising would wake her up. Besides, this feels too real, too concrete. Bailey can feel a throbbing in her body - down below - between her restrained legs.
She can barely see it in the dark, but from the closet it looks like something is stepping out. Or someone. It moves closer, every step it takes leaves a light tap on the floor. Like the tapping of heels. Bailey can start to see the vague silhouette of a woman. A shapely woman. She looks to be wearing not much at all. Some lingerie that looks like it belongs to the 1920s. Stockings that start from her high heels and up to her shapely thighs. Fine black bras and panties covering the crotch and breasts. Bailey tries to make out the face, but the entity is wearing a fancy masquerade mask. Even with no mask, it would be too dark to make out a face. The beautiful spectre slides closer to the bound Bailey. Bailey struggles a little in her bonds - she's a little scared, but also excited. She can't help but feel excited.
The entity brings its nail polished hands to Bailey's feet and traces its fingers along her exposed sole. Bailey wimpers and twists at the teasing touch. Her throbbing between her legs feels stronger now. She can't possibly be dreaming.
Is this a ghost? Bailey thinks. It feels too real. How could it touch her? It can't be a staff member can it? Or another person checked into the hotel? Bailey checks the front door, it's quite dark but she can just make out the chair still blocking the entrance. No one could have gotten inside, and there was no one else in here when she locked herself in. This spectre, it's impossible. Simply impossible.
The spectre walks around the bed, tracing its long nails along Bailey's body. Toying with her prey. Bailey shivers at the touch. She really is at the mercy of this creature. Even up close, she still can't make out the face; it's just too dark. But she can see its feminine, form. Refined, beautiful, dangerous. It is the walking essense of the femme fatale. The woman goes for Bailey's bag of supplies and looks inside. Bailey glances at behind the spectre, it looks to be holding something long and thin behind its back. A riding crop maybe? Bailey gulps at the thought.
"Are you..." Bailey barely manages a whisper. "Are you Miss Velvet?"
The spectre ignores her. It takes out something from the bag and reaches for Bailey's face. A fine, silky black cloth is planted over Bailey's eyes and tied firmly behind her head. If Bailey thought she couldn't see earlier, she certainly can't see now. It's a shame, Bailey thinks, she couldn't see much of the spectre but what she could see was very hot.
"Are you..." Bailey mutters again "are you miss- miss-"
Bailey can feel a warm presence approach her face. She can feel its breath upon her own lips. Its breath has a rosy smell. Every sense of this spectre is entrancing - its touch, its look, even its smell. Bailey can feel its soft lips lean in and brush teasingly with her own. The spectre kisses her, lips teasing lips. Through light kisses it whispers:
"You are mine."
An accent, Bailey notices. An irish accent, she wasn't expecting that at all.
"You are mine, do you understand?" the spectre whispers into Bailey's mouth. The voice makes Bailey melt like cream. Bailey nods lightly in compliance.
"Say it" the spectre commands in kisses.
"Say what?" Bailey quivers.
"Say 'I am yours, mistress'"
Bailey gulps, her heart skips a beat.
"I am yours, mistress" Bailey says.
And like that the spectre steps off the bed. Still blindfolded, Bailey is clueless to where she has gone. She shivers as her skin is greeted by the touch of Miss Velvet's riding crop. The leather end traverses up and down Bailey's stretched out body. It tickles up her midriff and around her breasts.
Slap!
Bailey gasps. She felt a sensual sting at her side.
Slap!
Another sting at her thigh.
"Oh god"
"Don't speak unless you're spoken to" the spectre hisses. "There will be consequences if you disobey. You understand?"
"Yes."
Slap! A sting at her other thigh.
"Yes what?" It asks Bailey. Bailey shivers.
"Yes mistress."
She then feels the body of the spectre crawl back onto the bed, it crawls up her body, running its hands along her tender skin and to her vulnerable breasts. The creatue crawls up and up till Bailey can feel it straddling her head. It sits down on her. Bailey can feel the silky touch of its lingerie as it rubs at her face. It's moist to the touch. Bailey nuzzles at mistresses crotch. The spectre grinds at Bailey's face, getting wetter as Bailey nuzzles her nose and mouth at the treasure within. Bailey can smell the essence of her captor, its no longer a rosy smell. Instead it is primal, womanly, bodily. Bailey bites at the crotch, lightly, just to get her mistress going. The spectre hovers off the bed for a moment. Bailey can hear the sound of fabric rubbing against skin. Then, Bailey feels her face being straddled once again. As the creature sits down on her, Bailey can now feel the exposed skin of her captors sex.
Bailey does what's expected of her. She licks and nibbles. She nuzzles and teases. She pleases the spectre and its womanly rewards. The mistress moans and purrs above. It runs its hands along Bailey's midriff and breasts, giving the bound blonde incentive to keep licking and biting. They stay like this for a wee while, the spectre grinding hungrily at Bailey's face as Bailey returns that hunger. They go at it more and more till the spectre gasps and moans in an uncanny ecstasy. Bailey tastes the essence of the spectre's climax from its sex. She licks it all up like a good submissive. The spectre steps off the bed, parting Bailey from the treasure between its legs. Bailey's lips are then greeted by the lips of Miss Velvet herself.
They kiss hungrily. Their lips tease each other and their tongues twist and play for power. Miss Velvet bites at Bailey's lip, lightly, seductively. Bailey kisses the spectre back. She returns the favour, nibbling at her captors delicious lips. Their mouths sigh between each other, breath sharing breath.
"Mistress" Bailey lets out in a whispered sigh.
"What did I say?" the spectre scolds her. Bailey shivers. She wasn't supposed to speak. Bailey opens her mouth to apologise to her mistress but all she gets is something shoved behind her teeth. It's a fine silky fabric. It's the underwear of the spectre. She can tell as she can taste the wetness of her captor in the fabric. Bailey feels a large knotted cloth being forced into her mouth and tied around her head. She has been cleave gagged, holding the wet panties inside her mouth. Usually a cleave gag doesn't do much but the knot behind her teeth was large and the cloth tied firmly behind her. Bailey's whispered pleas are now reduced to muffled moans. She is nothing more but Miss Velvet's plaything. Bailey can feel Miss Velvet run their riding crop along her vulnerable naked body. It's leather end travels across her nipples and creeps down towards her throbbing pussy.
"Mmmph" Bailey pleads.
Slap! Right at her tits. Bailey yelps helplessly into her gag. Her captor keeps her like this for a while longer. The crop running up and down her body. She slaps her feet, her thighs and belly. Each time is random. Blindfolded, Bailey feels every inch of her body. She is sensitive to every touch and uncertain what will happen to her next. She feels the spectre climb back on, it's sculpted womanly body pressed down against her own. It kisses at her neck and nibbles her earlobe.
"Mmm" Bailey purrs. She then freezes. She can feel Miss Velvet's fingers walking down her body and towards her wet sex. She gasps as her labia lips are met with the tickling touch of the spectre's finger nails. Her captor starts rubbing and tickling her clit. Bailey melts like cream all over again. Is this ghost even real? Is it even a ghost? - Bailey doesn't care anymore. All she wants is for the spectre to rub her harder and finger her. The spectre kisses down to Bailey's breasts and starts nibbling at her nipples. It's other free hand toys with the neglected breast. Bailey's tits and pussy are all being attended to. The spectre rubs harder at Bailey's clit, getting it wetter with excitement. Bailey purrs and moans lightly to her captor.
She then gasps. The spectre takes two fingers and penetrates them into Bailey's sex. The entity fingers her vagina, fucking her with its fingers.
"Mmph!" Bailey gasps as the fingering picks up to a sudden intensity.
It's all so much, the fingering at her pussy, the biting and pinching at her tits. Bailey's bound body held wide open so the ghost can have its way with her. She feels the body of the spectre slide down her own, kissing down her breasts and past her midriff. The entitiy flips itself around. Bailey can feel it shuffling back up and straddling her gagged face between its thighs. It's sitting on her 69. Bailey gulps at the thought. Then gasps once again.
She can feel the teeth of her captor teasing at her clitoris. Its fingers still fucking her with intensity. Bailey can smell her captor's pussy as it grinds at her gagged face. Miss Velvet shows no mercy. She fucks and nibbles at Bailey's clit and pussy while grinding at her face, getting the bound blonde moaning and pleading to cum. The mistress keeps Bailey in this state of agony. Keeping her just before the point of orgasm but never surpassing it.
It keeps her in this state for god knows how long - to Bailey it feels like an eternity. This must be what Miss Velvet does to all her clients, Bailey thinks. Keeps them in this point of helplessness and fucks them for as long as possible before she allows them an orgasm. Bailey can feel the wetness of her captor's sex rub at her nose. She can smell it. The smell just pushes Bailey even closer to the edge. But still she can't cross it.
The spectre starts lapping at Bailey's sex with her tongue, taking in her wetness. The feeling is heaven to Bailey. Or is it hell? The distinction is a little confusing here and quite ironic given the context. The spectre takes its hands and tickles at Bailey's thighs and ribs. Bailey squirms beneath her captor as her pussy is eaten out. She laughs and moans simultaneously into her cleave gag. It's both torture and pleasure. Mistress keeps this going, tickling poor Bailey while licking and biting her pussy and clit. Bailey feels like she's on the knife's edge. It's only when the spectre returns its fingers to Bailey's sex, only when it shoves them inside her and fucks her intensely once more...
...only then does Bailey finally cum.
And when it rains it pours. Bailey twists and struggles in her bonds and under her captor as her pussy squirts in its climax. The spectre wastes no time to lap it all up. Bailey pants and pants as the orgasm ripples through every part if her body. It feels like she's being possessed by the goddess of pleasure itself.
The spectre climbs off Bailey and goes to remove her gag and the panties from her mouth. The two share a long slobbering kiss, exchanging tastes.
"Good girl" the spectre whispers as they kiss. Bailey can hear some shuffling from the bag once more. A rubber ball is forced into her mouth and buckled behind her teeth. Bailey then whines as she feels something pinch at her tender right nipple, then her left. Must be her nipple clamps. Bailey shakes her body to try and throw the clamps off but they're not going anywhere. Bailey hears the sound of tape unsheathing from its roll. Something is held against her pussy and taped firmly to her thigh. The lips of her captor greet Bailey's ears once more.
"It was a pleasure to meet you" the lips say as they bite at her earlobe. The hand of the spectre slide down Bailey's body and to the toy between her legs.
Flick.
The vibrator hums into life and starts violating Bailey's pussy.
"Mmmmph" Bailey pleads to her captor. But the ballgag stops any words from coming out.
Bailey hears the footsteps of her captor drift away. And then vanish entirely. Bailey is alone. She is now at the mercy of her sex toy till her cuffs finally decide to let her go. Bailey wonders how long she's been tied up, and how long she has to wait and endure this torment. But her blindfold is still on and she can't see the time. She will just have to wait. It takes a little while, but the vibrator begins to have its effect and Bailey starts moaning for sexual release. Unlike the ghost, a vibrator is kind. It only has one function. Bailey cums once more, wondering when her next encounter with the ghost might be.
This certainly wont be the last time she checks into room 55.
Bailey hops off the bus and makes her way to this peculiar hotel, a large bag held by her side. She had heard about the stories years ago, but it was only after a recent halloween 'activity' that her facination in the building got rekindled.
The Horton Hotel is haunted. That is what they say. It looks old enough to be haunted. But why should Bailey care? Every hotel that is old enough for the wallpaper to peel off has a ghost story. But this place, it has a tale that is a little more unique.
Bailey enters the small foyer and greets the woman at the counter. Surprisingly young, Bailey thinks, and attractive. She supposes that everyone needs work at the end of the day. But she was expecting someone who looked as old as the hotel. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, she recites in her head.
"I booked for one night" Bailey says to the young woman. Bailey gives her full name. The woman checks the computer to find the blonde's booking. Bailey sees the nametag on the woman's shirt, Jessie. She has fine frizzy brown hair and a smile that feels sincere and warm, even if she is faking it - Bailey had no way of knowing. Bailey can't help but smile back at the charming girl.
"You from outta town?" Jessie asks.
"No actually, I live not far from here" Bailey says. Jessie tilts her head, her curiosity peaks. She glances back at the computer to reaffirm her curiosity.
"I see you booked room 55."
"I did" Bailey says.
"You've heard about that room have you?"
"No." That was a lie. Bailey has heard about room 55. It's the reason she's here.
"What about it?" Bailey asks the girl. Jessie gives another smile.
"Well - this is what the others told me, but apparently that room is supposed to be haunted. People who book that room feel a certain presence in there. Like they're not alone."
"You mean like a ghost?" Bailey asks.
"Well, the story goes, that there used to be a woman who worked here decades ago. She would bring clients here who were interested in more um... I'll just say, intimate tastes. It's said she would always use number 55. She became such a regular that the owners at the time kept that room dedicated for her and her clients. They had a name for her, it was Miss Velvet maybe? Something like that anyway."
"What happened? Did she die?" Bailey asks.
"I guess so. Oh! Nothing nasty though- nothing like that. I think she retired or something. Apparently she passed away ages back, quite young sadly. But ever since, people have reported they can sense her spirit in that room till this very day. People come round here just to visit room 55 to see if the stories are true. Just between you and me, the owners say they hate the stories but i think they love it! No such thing as bad publicity aye. Anyway, I was just asking in case you were one of those people."
"No I'm not" Bailey says. That was another lie. "Would it have been a problem if i was?"
"No" Jessie smiles. "It's good for business. But it's also good for us to know either way. Besides, someone with your looks? You'd be her type for sure, she might just turn up anyway. Enjoy your stay."
Bailey blushes a little. She's quite a flirt, Bailey thinks. Jessie hands Bailey the key. She takes it with a friendly smile and makes her way up the stairs. It's not the first time Bailey had heard the story, but it is the first time she had heard that version of it. The versions she read online were more macabre. In some, the dominatrix was murdered in cold blood, in others it was the dominatrix who was the killer herself. Most of them involved some dramatic crime of passion. Most of this though seems to he nothing more than people online getting carried away with their imaginations. But there are a few common threads. There was once a dominatrix who used room 55 for all her clients. And when she died, people started reporting feeling her presence in the room; all to this very day. Some people claimed they could smell her rosy perfume, others reported her whispering in their ear. There were other claims though that were a little more outlandish. That is what Bailey wants to figure out.
Bailey unlocks room 55 and steps inside. Like the rest of the hotel, they have kept its original 1920s aesthetic. Though the modern comforts of TV, wifi, proper heating - that is all there too. Bailey shuts the door and places her bag by the bed. The bed still has the old style metal railings at its head and feet. Bailey searches the room, checking every nook and cranny. She wants to make sure there is nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that makes any weird noises, or casts any unusual shadows. Bailey wants to be sure that anything she sees or hears tonight isn't just the whim of some optical illusion. She even goes so far as to check the empty cupboard, she knocks on the back wall. Nothing of interest.
Bailey checks outside the window. The sky is already shading pink and deep blue. It's nearing 7pm. It will be pitch black soon. Bailey isn't sure exactly what she will find. And that is partly the point. The mystery of it excites her. She had brought some special supplies with her, but she is still hot and cold on whether she will use it. There are a few stories she read, saying that if she-
Bailey shakes off the thought. She doesn't feel ready for that. Her heart was thumping too strongly to consider it.
---
11:16pm
Bailey lies in her bed, her eyes looking blankly at the hotel ceiling above her. Her body is in the hotel but her mind is someplace else. She scoffs at herself, what the hell is she doing? Spending some night at some strange hotel for no reason other than to follow some obscure folk story. Bailey had never considered herself superstitious. She was always brought up in a very science first household. But maybe she is more superstitious than she thought. Why would she bother to show up if she didn't at least partly believe there is something to the stories. But that's why she is here, to gather evidence. She's always heard of ghost encounters but now she gets the chance to test one out for herself. Assuming the ghost bothers to show up.
Bailey looks up and checks the clock - 11:20pm. Her head falls back into the pillows impatiently. Maybe she has to wait till the witching hour? She smirks at the thought.
There were some other stories of the hotel she read about while browsing forums after forums. A few really peaked her interest. She can remember the stories almost like they were vivid memories etched into her mind - as if she were there herself. She is not the first to visit the hotel to find proof of the ghoul. And she isn't the first to consider getting clever about it. Another woman (she never gave a name) tried being clever too. Bailey can remember what the woman wrote in her post almost word for word:
"I couldn't help but think. If she's some dominatrix, maybe i could provoke her. Find a way to summon her. If i pretended to be one of her clients, as if she were still alive, maybe her spirit would appear. That's exactly what i did. I went to the hotel, got myself ready and waited. I've never been into that kink stuff. I had to google all the selfbondage stuff, just so i knew what i was doing (my boyfriend had questions lol). I didn't overdo it, just tied myself to the bed. Clothes were still on. Nothing happened at first but i just kept waiting. And then-"
Click - clock
Bailey's loses her train of thought. Her head flips up and her eyes dart around the room. What was that noise? She looks to her side and sees shadows shifting left to right through the sliver of light under the door. Bailey sighs, it's just someone walking past the hallway outside.
---
Cars and trucks beep outside, waking Bailey up from her accidental slumber. No ghost, she thinks. Nothing at all. No smell of perfume or whispered nothings in the ear. Nothing. The morning light fills the room with a warm hue.
Bailey winces to herself - what was she thinking! She was so determined to find this ghost but all she's done is waste fifty dollars. To be fair, it's a magnitude cheaper than the other hotels in the area. Perhaps the super religious aren't too keen to pay a fortune on a hotel with its own local ghoul. Bailey ended up never using the gear in her bag. She couldn't push herself to do it. It's one thing to tie yourself up in the safety of your own home but in a hotel? A haunted hotel no less!
---
Bailey finds Jessie back at the counter, like she never left. Though she's now wearing a cute turtle neck and scarf. Jessie has a soothing cup of tea with her as she gives her neck a light morning stretch.
"Morning" Jessie smiles.
"Morning".
"How was your night? Did you meet Miss Velvet?"
Bailey frowns for a moment, then she remembers. Miss Velvet was the name of the dominatrix.
"No I didn't" Bailey says.
"Ah shame. You must have gotten a good nights rest at least then. Are you checking out?"
"I guess so yeah" Bailey says, gesturing to the packed bag at her side. Bailey hands her key to Jessie but a question in her head stops her.
"Have you ever had an encounter?" Bailey asks.
"With Miss Velvet? A few times."
"What happened?"
Jessie thinks on it for a moment. She bites her lip at the thoughts in her head.
"It was... an encounter I never thought I would have. You can't stumble into it. You have to want it to happen. If you have any doubts, she can tell. She only shows herself to those who want her." Jessie pauses. She looks Bailey up and down, reading her closely. Jessie can see right through her, Bailey can feel it.
"You came here last night cos you wanted to see her, am I right?"
Bailey pauses- "maybe."
"I knew it!" Jessie giggles. "I can always tell. There are people who book room 55 cos they want to see her and then there are liars."
Bailey feels a little taken back by that.
"Oh sorry" Jessie explains. "I'm not taking the micky of you. I understand! Most people who come to see her are too shy to admit it to me. You're not the only one. I was shy about it too when I first came here."
"Has anyone booked room 55 for tonight?" Bailey asks.
"Why do you ask?" Jessie teases.
"I um... well you know" Bailey stammers, more to herself than Jessie.
"If you want to see her, you have to know you want to see her" Jessie says. "Otherwise, she wont show herself to you".
Bailey thinks. Does she want this? Does she want an encounter with Miss Velvet? The answer would seem pretty obvious now surely. But she has commit to wanting it.
"I would like to book room 55 tonight please" Bailey says, conjuring the confidence from inside her. Jessie gives her a wink and checks the computer.
"Let me see... yep, it is available tonight. Lucky you. I'll book you in right away."
Well since I'm going to stay here an extra night, Bailey thinks, what am I gonna do before then.
Bailey heads back to room 55 to leave her gear. She hurries downstairs and out the door. She has nothing on today, guess she'll just have to spend her time in town. Jessie gives her a cute wave as she exits the hotel.
---
It was a surprisingly big day for Bailey. She had a look at the local art gallery. Very snobby, she thought, though she had never been one to understand the meaning behind a gumboot in an empty room. She enjoyed a nice meal and drink at a bar with a friend - talking about work and all the latest gossip.
Bailey notices the sun is already going down as she walks back to the hotel. She makes it inside the foyer, where she notices Jessie. She's putting on her coat and heading home. The two share a brief smile as the young woman heads outside. Bailey carries herself up the stairs and to her room, feeling a little more nervous and excited with every step. Eventually she makes it up to the third floor and into room 55.
Everything in Bailey's scenario needs to go to plan. She can't have the cleaners walking in on her - not that they would, but she doesn't want any risks. She shuts and locks the door to her room. Not secure enough. She takes a chair from the corner and secures it under the handlebar of the door. Even if the staff somehow made a mistake and tried to enter the room to clean it, even if they had a staff key, the chair would still keep them out. Bailey really is in a locked room scenario now. She closes and locks the windows. She checks every inch of the room once more, in case anything has changed from last night. It's all the same. Bailey looks over to her bag - it's time.
Bailey is going to pretend to be a client. But she is going to commit. Whatever happens, happens. And whatever doesn't, doesn't. She strips, removing her jacket, shirt and jeans. She strips till she is naked. She opens her special bag, places it on the bedside drawer and pulls out her supplies. She ties two ropes to the foot of her bed, one on each side. Then at the head of the bed she ties one rope to the middle of the railing. Bailey can already feel her heart thumping. This is no longer just a story on a forum post. She grabs a special set of cuffs from the bag. They're a pair of self timer cuffs. All she has to do is set in the time she wants and then the cuffs will stay locked until it hits zero. It's currently 9pm now, Bailey sees on the clock. So maybe she should set it to two hours? Maybe three?
Bailey sets the cuff for three hours. Three hours she will be completely at the mercy of this hotel spectre. Bailey hops on the bed for her final preperations. She grabs the two ropes tied to the foot of the bed and ties her feet to them. First she ties her right ankle, then she has to stretch to really reach the other rope so she can tie her left. Her regular yoga stretches finally have some use, she jokes to herself. Done. Her legs are snugly bound to the corners of the bed - spread wide. Bailey reaches for the rope at the head of the bed and grabs her cuffs. She ties the rope to the chain between the cuffs, keeping them firmly held to the bed.
Now for the point of no return.
Three hours, Bailey thinks.
She rests on her back and lifts her hands above her head. She has to stretch a bit to reach the cuffs. She feeds her hands through the handcuffs and locks them in place. Her heart thumps when she hears the click. She twists about, testing her restraints - she's not going anywhere. She is stuck on the bed, stretched out like an upside down Y. Bailey relaxes into her selfbondage predicament and observes the room around her.
The lights are still on. That was deliberate. She kept them on so if the ghost ever turns up, she'll be able to see it. Though the lights are on a dimmer, she couldn't help but dim them down a little. She couldn't help it, she wanted some element of atmosphere.
The room is quiet. Not a peep. Even the hallway outside is dead.
Bailey glances up at the clock - 9:17pm. She has to be patient. Ghost or no ghost, she can't expect something to happen the moment the cuffs go click.
---
Bailey wakes up. She must have dozzed off. How did that happen? She gives her arms and legs a tug, still, she's bound to the bed. Still bound, still naked. The feeling makes her realise just how exposed she is, her legs held open for any intruder to do their bidding. She glances at the time. Quarter to ten. It was only a light nap then, she thinks. Bailey glances round the room once again, checking the shut curtains, the chair blocking the door, the lights going off.
The lights going off?
She can't believe it at first, but the lights above her are flickering. Maybe there's some problem with the power. The lights flicker and waver for a few moments. This didn't happen last night, Bailey thinks. And at that moment, the lights go dead.
The room is pitch black.
Bailey can only see the vague inpressions of the room now. All detail is lost, it's simply too dark. All she can see now is the blotchy black shapes of the furniture. But her ears are heightened.
Creak.
It came from the closet. Bailey's breath picks up as the patchy image of the closet door slowly peeps open. Bailey cannot believe her eyes. Could it be she's dreaming? She did fall asleep a moment ago, maybe she still is. But she can't be. If she were dreaming, surely her realising would wake her up. Besides, this feels too real, too concrete. Bailey can feel a throbbing in her body - down below - between her restrained legs.
She can barely see it in the dark, but from the closet it looks like something is stepping out. Or someone. It moves closer, every step it takes leaves a light tap on the floor. Like the tapping of heels. Bailey can start to see the vague silhouette of a woman. A shapely woman. She looks to be wearing not much at all. Some lingerie that looks like it belongs to the 1920s. Stockings that start from her high heels and up to her shapely thighs. Fine black bras and panties covering the crotch and breasts. Bailey tries to make out the face, but the entity is wearing a fancy masquerade mask. Even with no mask, it would be too dark to make out a face. The beautiful spectre slides closer to the bound Bailey. Bailey struggles a little in her bonds - she's a little scared, but also excited. She can't help but feel excited.
The entity brings its nail polished hands to Bailey's feet and traces its fingers along her exposed sole. Bailey wimpers and twists at the teasing touch. Her throbbing between her legs feels stronger now. She can't possibly be dreaming.
Is this a ghost? Bailey thinks. It feels too real. How could it touch her? It can't be a staff member can it? Or another person checked into the hotel? Bailey checks the front door, it's quite dark but she can just make out the chair still blocking the entrance. No one could have gotten inside, and there was no one else in here when she locked herself in. This spectre, it's impossible. Simply impossible.
The spectre walks around the bed, tracing its long nails along Bailey's body. Toying with her prey. Bailey shivers at the touch. She really is at the mercy of this creature. Even up close, she still can't make out the face; it's just too dark. But she can see its feminine, form. Refined, beautiful, dangerous. It is the walking essense of the femme fatale. The woman goes for Bailey's bag of supplies and looks inside. Bailey glances at behind the spectre, it looks to be holding something long and thin behind its back. A riding crop maybe? Bailey gulps at the thought.
"Are you..." Bailey barely manages a whisper. "Are you Miss Velvet?"
The spectre ignores her. It takes out something from the bag and reaches for Bailey's face. A fine, silky black cloth is planted over Bailey's eyes and tied firmly behind her head. If Bailey thought she couldn't see earlier, she certainly can't see now. It's a shame, Bailey thinks, she couldn't see much of the spectre but what she could see was very hot.
"Are you..." Bailey mutters again "are you miss- miss-"
Bailey can feel a warm presence approach her face. She can feel its breath upon her own lips. Its breath has a rosy smell. Every sense of this spectre is entrancing - its touch, its look, even its smell. Bailey can feel its soft lips lean in and brush teasingly with her own. The spectre kisses her, lips teasing lips. Through light kisses it whispers:
"You are mine."
An accent, Bailey notices. An irish accent, she wasn't expecting that at all.
"You are mine, do you understand?" the spectre whispers into Bailey's mouth. The voice makes Bailey melt like cream. Bailey nods lightly in compliance.
"Say it" the spectre commands in kisses.
"Say what?" Bailey quivers.
"Say 'I am yours, mistress'"
Bailey gulps, her heart skips a beat.
"I am yours, mistress" Bailey says.
And like that the spectre steps off the bed. Still blindfolded, Bailey is clueless to where she has gone. She shivers as her skin is greeted by the touch of Miss Velvet's riding crop. The leather end traverses up and down Bailey's stretched out body. It tickles up her midriff and around her breasts.
Slap!
Bailey gasps. She felt a sensual sting at her side.
Slap!
Another sting at her thigh.
"Oh god"
"Don't speak unless you're spoken to" the spectre hisses. "There will be consequences if you disobey. You understand?"
"Yes."
Slap! A sting at her other thigh.
"Yes what?" It asks Bailey. Bailey shivers.
"Yes mistress."
She then feels the body of the spectre crawl back onto the bed, it crawls up her body, running its hands along her tender skin and to her vulnerable breasts. The creatue crawls up and up till Bailey can feel it straddling her head. It sits down on her. Bailey can feel the silky touch of its lingerie as it rubs at her face. It's moist to the touch. Bailey nuzzles at mistresses crotch. The spectre grinds at Bailey's face, getting wetter as Bailey nuzzles her nose and mouth at the treasure within. Bailey can smell the essence of her captor, its no longer a rosy smell. Instead it is primal, womanly, bodily. Bailey bites at the crotch, lightly, just to get her mistress going. The spectre hovers off the bed for a moment. Bailey can hear the sound of fabric rubbing against skin. Then, Bailey feels her face being straddled once again. As the creature sits down on her, Bailey can now feel the exposed skin of her captors sex.
Bailey does what's expected of her. She licks and nibbles. She nuzzles and teases. She pleases the spectre and its womanly rewards. The mistress moans and purrs above. It runs its hands along Bailey's midriff and breasts, giving the bound blonde incentive to keep licking and biting. They stay like this for a wee while, the spectre grinding hungrily at Bailey's face as Bailey returns that hunger. They go at it more and more till the spectre gasps and moans in an uncanny ecstasy. Bailey tastes the essence of the spectre's climax from its sex. She licks it all up like a good submissive. The spectre steps off the bed, parting Bailey from the treasure between its legs. Bailey's lips are then greeted by the lips of Miss Velvet herself.
They kiss hungrily. Their lips tease each other and their tongues twist and play for power. Miss Velvet bites at Bailey's lip, lightly, seductively. Bailey kisses the spectre back. She returns the favour, nibbling at her captors delicious lips. Their mouths sigh between each other, breath sharing breath.
"Mistress" Bailey lets out in a whispered sigh.
"What did I say?" the spectre scolds her. Bailey shivers. She wasn't supposed to speak. Bailey opens her mouth to apologise to her mistress but all she gets is something shoved behind her teeth. It's a fine silky fabric. It's the underwear of the spectre. She can tell as she can taste the wetness of her captor in the fabric. Bailey feels a large knotted cloth being forced into her mouth and tied around her head. She has been cleave gagged, holding the wet panties inside her mouth. Usually a cleave gag doesn't do much but the knot behind her teeth was large and the cloth tied firmly behind her. Bailey's whispered pleas are now reduced to muffled moans. She is nothing more but Miss Velvet's plaything. Bailey can feel Miss Velvet run their riding crop along her vulnerable naked body. It's leather end travels across her nipples and creeps down towards her throbbing pussy.
"Mmmph" Bailey pleads.
Slap! Right at her tits. Bailey yelps helplessly into her gag. Her captor keeps her like this for a while longer. The crop running up and down her body. She slaps her feet, her thighs and belly. Each time is random. Blindfolded, Bailey feels every inch of her body. She is sensitive to every touch and uncertain what will happen to her next. She feels the spectre climb back on, it's sculpted womanly body pressed down against her own. It kisses at her neck and nibbles her earlobe.
"Mmm" Bailey purrs. She then freezes. She can feel Miss Velvet's fingers walking down her body and towards her wet sex. She gasps as her labia lips are met with the tickling touch of the spectre's finger nails. Her captor starts rubbing and tickling her clit. Bailey melts like cream all over again. Is this ghost even real? Is it even a ghost? - Bailey doesn't care anymore. All she wants is for the spectre to rub her harder and finger her. The spectre kisses down to Bailey's breasts and starts nibbling at her nipples. It's other free hand toys with the neglected breast. Bailey's tits and pussy are all being attended to. The spectre rubs harder at Bailey's clit, getting it wetter with excitement. Bailey purrs and moans lightly to her captor.
She then gasps. The spectre takes two fingers and penetrates them into Bailey's sex. The entity fingers her vagina, fucking her with its fingers.
"Mmph!" Bailey gasps as the fingering picks up to a sudden intensity.
It's all so much, the fingering at her pussy, the biting and pinching at her tits. Bailey's bound body held wide open so the ghost can have its way with her. She feels the body of the spectre slide down her own, kissing down her breasts and past her midriff. The entitiy flips itself around. Bailey can feel it shuffling back up and straddling her gagged face between its thighs. It's sitting on her 69. Bailey gulps at the thought. Then gasps once again.
She can feel the teeth of her captor teasing at her clitoris. Its fingers still fucking her with intensity. Bailey can smell her captor's pussy as it grinds at her gagged face. Miss Velvet shows no mercy. She fucks and nibbles at Bailey's clit and pussy while grinding at her face, getting the bound blonde moaning and pleading to cum. The mistress keeps Bailey in this state of agony. Keeping her just before the point of orgasm but never surpassing it.
It keeps her in this state for god knows how long - to Bailey it feels like an eternity. This must be what Miss Velvet does to all her clients, Bailey thinks. Keeps them in this point of helplessness and fucks them for as long as possible before she allows them an orgasm. Bailey can feel the wetness of her captor's sex rub at her nose. She can smell it. The smell just pushes Bailey even closer to the edge. But still she can't cross it.
The spectre starts lapping at Bailey's sex with her tongue, taking in her wetness. The feeling is heaven to Bailey. Or is it hell? The distinction is a little confusing here and quite ironic given the context. The spectre takes its hands and tickles at Bailey's thighs and ribs. Bailey squirms beneath her captor as her pussy is eaten out. She laughs and moans simultaneously into her cleave gag. It's both torture and pleasure. Mistress keeps this going, tickling poor Bailey while licking and biting her pussy and clit. Bailey feels like she's on the knife's edge. It's only when the spectre returns its fingers to Bailey's sex, only when it shoves them inside her and fucks her intensely once more...
...only then does Bailey finally cum.
And when it rains it pours. Bailey twists and struggles in her bonds and under her captor as her pussy squirts in its climax. The spectre wastes no time to lap it all up. Bailey pants and pants as the orgasm ripples through every part if her body. It feels like she's being possessed by the goddess of pleasure itself.
The spectre climbs off Bailey and goes to remove her gag and the panties from her mouth. The two share a long slobbering kiss, exchanging tastes.
"Good girl" the spectre whispers as they kiss. Bailey can hear some shuffling from the bag once more. A rubber ball is forced into her mouth and buckled behind her teeth. Bailey then whines as she feels something pinch at her tender right nipple, then her left. Must be her nipple clamps. Bailey shakes her body to try and throw the clamps off but they're not going anywhere. Bailey hears the sound of tape unsheathing from its roll. Something is held against her pussy and taped firmly to her thigh. The lips of her captor greet Bailey's ears once more.
"It was a pleasure to meet you" the lips say as they bite at her earlobe. The hand of the spectre slide down Bailey's body and to the toy between her legs.
Flick.
The vibrator hums into life and starts violating Bailey's pussy.
"Mmmmph" Bailey pleads to her captor. But the ballgag stops any words from coming out.
Bailey hears the footsteps of her captor drift away. And then vanish entirely. Bailey is alone. She is now at the mercy of her sex toy till her cuffs finally decide to let her go. Bailey wonders how long she's been tied up, and how long she has to wait and endure this torment. But her blindfold is still on and she can't see the time. She will just have to wait. It takes a little while, but the vibrator begins to have its effect and Bailey starts moaning for sexual release. Unlike the ghost, a vibrator is kind. It only has one function. Bailey cums once more, wondering when her next encounter with the ghost might be.
This certainly wont be the last time she checks into room 55.