Kaylee's Keeper (2 page)

“I’ll see if it’s available. In the meantime, here is your application, your acknowledgement of intent and consent, a list of Castle rules and your bracelet. Looks like we have your medical records, so go ahead and find a seat and while you’re waiting, please read over your application. Make any changes necessary, initial each paragraph and sign at the bottom. The same goes for the Castle rules: read each article carefully and initial that you understand and intend to comply. Sign at the bottom. Bring your application back as soon as you’re done. Everything else will be explained at orientation, which will start in just a minute. Okay?”

Nodding, Kaylee accepted the clipboard and pen and turned from the table. Selena waved from where she had already selected a chair and Kaylee headed straight for her, grateful for a little familiarity amidst all the rest of this novelty.

Having already finished her own paperwork, Selena latched onto her arm when Kaylee sat down, all but dancing in her seat as she, very softly so as not to disturb anyone else, squealed her excitement again. “I have been looking forward to this since forever!”

Laughing softly, Kaylee went over her application. Using her pen to keep her place, she carefully reviewed each numbered question. There were nine pages total, starting with the question:
Have you ever engaged in BDSM play before?
Kaylee checked off her answer, yes, and kept going, swallowing back that same slight twinge of guilt that she’d felt back when she first typed in that lie. She had never played. Up until now, all of her spankings had been received through fantasy and daydreams. When she walked through those massive castle doors, her first spanking here would be the first real spanking she’d ever received in her entire life. She wasn’t about to put that down on this questionnaire though. She didn’t want all the experienced people here to treat her like a newbie. She only had three days. She wasn’t going to waste a single one of them trying to convince people that she didn’t need to take it slow.

The next question:
Would you rate your level of experience as new, low, moderate, high or professional-level?
Kaylee had answered the last: professional. She reaffirmed that lie now as well.

Please list your favorite play experiences
. Kaylee put down all her best fantasies. For years, they had been heating up her otherwise empty bed and now she was more than ready to experience the reality.

What do you enjoy most when you play?
Spanking! Kaylee had provided that answer in all caps. It was probably a good thing this questionnaire had been filled out online, otherwise she’d have underlined the word several times, circled or highlighted it, decorated it all around with little red, black and blue stars to signify all the pain she wanted her poor bottom to be in by the time her vacation was over.

Kaylee squirmed in her seat, starting to feel the first pulse of arousal as her blood steadily relocated down between her thighs. She also began to skim the rest of the application but she wasn’t thinking about what she was reading now. She was thinking about all the new experiences that lay ahead. She hoped she was assigned to someone who was caring and nice, yet strong and authoritative and who wanted to play right away. She couldn’t wait to meet him, whoever
he
was. She couldn’t wait to be bent across his lap with her hands and her legs pinned. Would he bare her bottom right away, or would he want to get to know her first?

The questionnaire continued.

Would you like sex to be an integral part of your experience at the Castle?
Who wouldn’t want that, Kaylee wondered. Sex and spanking went so completely hand-in-hand in Kaylee’s fantasies that sometimes it became impossible for her to tell the difference between them. Besides, what was a vacation without a little sex? Granted, she wouldn’t know the real name of the man she was going to be intimate with, but people had one-night stands all the time. Kaylee never had, but there was always a first time, and this—
this
—was going to be hers.

She wanted to experience everything the brochure and all the reviews had hinted of. She wanted to submit to the sensual whims of another. She wanted to be held down, pinned in place, tied to a bed. She wanted to be spanked, caned, caressed. She wanted to feel a fist lock in her hair and push her to her knees while she sucked a cock in penance. She wanted to feel the hot ache as she ground her well-spanked bottom against the mattress, the carpet, the edge of a hard, unyielding table, while she was penetrated. She wanted to be ridden, to be made love to, to be bent over and just plain fucked—her mouth, her hot and throbbing pussy, maybe even her ass. Even if it hurt. Maybe even because it would hurt. She’d heard first times usually did, but Kaylee was so ready for this. For the next few days, from now until she had to step back up on the outgoing bus for home, Kaylee wanted to feel owned in every possible and sensual sense of the word.

She wasn’t even reading the application anymore. She was just checking off one answer (lie) after the other—no one told the truth on these things anyway—and when she was done, it was a fight just to sit there while she waited for the rest of the orientation to start., 

Just reading her own questionnaire had made her horny as all hell, Her cheeks grew hot. Her breathing was shallow and just a little too fast, and her vaginal walls kept flexing, tightening in what felt like tiny shocks. When she stood up, she knew there was going to be a wet spot on the metal seat. She squirmed, already mortified, but even that felt good, amplifying rather than killing  her excitement.

Beside her, Selena bounced in her seat and clutched her arm again. “It’s starting!”

Turning, Kaylee followed with her eyes as a very tall and stiffly-proper woman ascended the two shorts steps and walked to the center of the dais. Her costume was similar to the maids Kaylee had seen earlier, but where their skirts had been shorter, hers was full-length, black, severe in cut, and as utilitarian as it was authoritative.

“Good morning,” the woman addressed them, clasping her hands over her stomach, her cool voice carrying easily across the open courtyard. “I am Mrs. Hardwick, the head housekeeper here at the Castle. I hope you’ve all had a pleasant trip thus far. I know you’re eager to get started, but there are some rules that must be gone over before we separate dominants from submissives and your fantasy adventures are allowed to begin.

“First and foremost, this is a consensual establishment. That means consent must be given at all times, by all submissives each and every time play is enacted, for each and every aspect of play enacted, every single second of every single day, even when that play focuses on the illusion of non-consent. No means no, ladies and gentlemen, even here. To break this rule means, at a minimum, you will be expelled from the premises. At most, you’ll be prosecuted to the full extent of local jurisdiction. Every room, elevator, stairwell, dark-lit corridor and dungeon cell has cameras and voice-activated microphones and is never more than two minutes away from a rapid-response security team. Unfortunately, since ‘no’ only rarely ever means ‘stop’ in a BDSM crowd, even when you’re tied over a wooden horse with a ginger plug and bullwhip making very short work of your resolve not to scream—”

A few nervous twitters of laughter rippled the crowd; Kaylee giggled along with them, but her eyes were huge and for a moment it felt as if her heart had stopped beating.

Smiling thinly, Mrs. Hardwick allowed time for silence to reign once again before she continued. “Since 'no' rarely means stop, the Castle operates under a universal safeword: onion. You can say onion or onions, it doesn’t matter. The immediate result is going to be the activation of every camera in the room. The microphones will switch on and one of the guards on duty will  demand an immediate cessation of play. Security will be immediately deployed and they will not be stopped or waylaid until they reach the submissive in question. For that reason, I always recommend that you arrange a mediary word that you or your play partner can use to slow or stop the intensity of your play without bringing the entire Castle guard charging down upon you.”

There went that laugh again.

“But, Mrs. Hardwick, you ask,” the housekeeper said. “What if we’re gagged? How will we be able to use the safeword then? You can’t. Which is why gags are never permitted anywhere on the premises except under a very special set of circumstances. The dominant will need to apply for a license, the submissive will need to give written consent, and her consent must be notified and witnessed by the Master of the Castle. The play will then occur in a specific area of the castle and believe me when I tell you, you may be the only two people in the room, but you will never be alone when gags are in play. You will be observed from the moment you enter, until the moment you leave. Cameras randomly monitor all areas of the Castle at all hours of the day and night. Anyone caught using a gag outside of these set parameters will be automatically charged with breaking the rule of consent and immediate action will be taken to protect the submissive.

“Also,” Mrs. Hardwick continued, and held up her arm to show everyone the yellow and white bracelets she wore. Apart from color, hers looked exactly like the ones Kaylee and the other guests had been given, “every single person here, be they guests or staff, wears at least one of these. Each bracelet is color-coded to match a particular aspect of play that we offer. Doms wear two: a white band—” She pointed to hers. “—and a color-coded one to match them with a particular fantasy.  I cannot stress enough how much it doesn’t matter if blue matches your eyes or if green is your favorite color. Put on the bracelet you’ve been given and do not take it off until you either switch fantasies or depart the premises. Bracelet swappers don’t get spanked here, ladies and gentlemen. They get prematurely sent home on the Bus of Shame. So while I’m watching, everybody get your bracelets out, put them on and set your minds right now to leaving them on for the duration of your visit."  She paused and watched. "Does everyone have their bracelet on?”

Shuffling her papers in her hands, Kaylee slipped her black band over her hand and looked over at Selena’s pink one; Selena looked at hers. They both looked at one another—so much for her spot of familiarity—before turning back to Mrs. Hardwick.

Two fingers tapped at her shoulder and Kaylee swiveled in her seat to find the peppy young woman from the sign-in table hovering just behind her.  “Hi.” She smiled and patted her shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know, Judy, your name was approved.” As unobtrusively as possible, she crept back out of the assemblage, leaving Kaylee even more nervous and excited than before.

“Arms up; I want to see those wristbands,” Mrs. Hardwick ordered, and like obedient school children, Kaylee held up her arm along with everyone else. “Perfect.”

As if on cue, the Castle’s front door opened and a uniformed line of men and maidservants all with yellow bracelets on their arms stepped outside.

“Masters and mistresses.” The head housekeeper drew herself slightly stiffer. “It’s time to say goodbye to your submissives. Please hand your information packets to Mr. Grimsley—” The head butler separated himself from the men and maids and marched forward to execute a formal bow. Like Mrs. Hardwick, the white wristband of a dominant coupled with his yellow one. “He will escort you to Wardrobe to receive your costumes, tour you through the Castle and explain its equipment, and finally show you to your room assignments. If you did not bring one with you, your assigned submissives will soon be joining you shortly.”

Kaylee felt herself quivering, a sensation mirrored by Selena’s grip on her arm when most of the men among them (and two women) stood up and filed their way to Mr. Grimsley’s side, handing in their packets as they reached him. Each was wearing a white bracelet along with a veritable rainbow of secondary colors, the meanings of which were a complete mystery to Kaylee.

“Lords and ladies,” Mrs. Hardwick dipped her head in a respectful bow, bidding them farewell. “Welcome to the Castle.”

Kaylee’s chest felt so tight she had to remind herself to breathe as she watched them file from the courtyard, vanishing into the shadows of the castle. Even knowing it was completely pointless, she tried to guess which man she might be matched to before the line of them disappeared from sight.

“Where are my green bracelets?” Mrs. Hardwick asked, becoming imperceptibly just a little bit stiffer, just a little more austere. Three women stood up (among them, a very attractive Japanese woman with bright pink and blonde highlights in her very long hair). “Mr. Brody.”

A second man, stepped forward, separating himself from the female servants and what looked to be two Victorian-era policemen. Dressed simply, Mr. Brody’s tan trousers and plain white shirt said plainly he was not a butler. He also wore both green and white bracelets.

“Stable master,” Mrs. Hardwick announced, “please take possession of your ponies.”

Kaylee and Selena looked at one another, startled. The Japanese "pony" gave her head a very imperious toss, and beside her, Selena struggled to stifle a giggle. It was a sound Kaylee had a hard time not echoing. It wasn’t mocking, just sheer nervousness. The group was being very quickly and expertly whittled down.

“Blue bracelets.” The head housekeeper’s tone gentled, and a handful of women and the last remaining man among them stood. “Nannies Bess and Rosa will take you to the nursery.”

Kaylee shot Selena a look, but her new friend was watching the Blue Bracelets go. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Kaylee could feel her trembling with hard-suppressed anticipation.

“Pink bracelets,” Mrs. Hardwick announced, and Selena jumped to her feet. She gave Kaylee a grin and one last squeeze, and then she let go. Her hands wiped nervously at the legs of her jeans as she quickly made her way out of the cluster of mostly empty chairs. “There’s our little princesses.” She watched as nine young women—and getting younger by the minute—hurried to assemble before her. “Governesses Victoria and Odelette will take you upstairs. A word of warning, girls. You’ll have to work very hard to impress our new schoolmaster, especially since you are already late for classes.”