A gay story: The Pink Palace Hotel Ch. 02 CHAPTER TWO
Steven did not spend the night sleeplessly tossing and turning in bed, his mind in a turmoil, because of the liberties that had been taken with his body and his psyche, Meant he was so exhausted he slept like the child he so recently was.
Awoken by the noise of the hotel coming to life at the start of a new dawn, he first started mithering about his precarious situation as a runaway. Those worries morphed into the inevitable indignation at having been robbed of his virginity so callously he day before.
He was somewhat cautious about the homosexual element. With Charles’s input only he would have been outraged had he not enjoyed the sexual entanglement with the precocious ladyboy Zara. Supposing the police investigation officers got wind of that? He had definitely been a willing partner in that union.
No, he decided, that was a risk he had to take. He would find the nearest police station first thing. Or immediately after breakfast at least. The smell of bacon and coffee had permeated the bedroom where he lay in such a quandary.
Another problem was that he only had the previous evening’s shirt and trousers to dress in. He needed to recover his day clothes and his suitcase – and yes, his phone too. He resolved to stay for breakfast, to eat as much as he possibly could, and then find and tackle owner Charles.
Before he could vacate the bed the bedroom door opened and Charles himself strode in. Steven had noted the night before that there was no lock to the door; very unusual for a hotel.
“How are you feeling this morning, young man?” the proprietor asked heartily.
Steven hastily drew the top sheet up to his neck in an attempt to hide the fact that he was naked.
Charles, having observed the manoeuvre, responded accordingly. “Don’t worry lad. I’ve just fucked our sommelier, Jacques, and I need time to recover. I’m not the man I was.”
Steven’s blank face betrayed the fact that “sommelier” was lost on him.
“We have to decide what we are going to do about you,” Charles continued. “If you are still minded go to the cop shop, I’ll get Zara to drive you there. But first you might want to look at this.” He brought my phone out of his jacket pocket and held it to where I could see the screen. It treated me to a clipped version of Zara and I enjoying sex the evening before. “However hard you try, I don’t think you can call that rape, can you Stevie?”
The boy was lost for words for a moment, stung by Charles’s deviousness. “Consensual sex is O.K. by me, but I was raped earlier by somebody who paid you for the privilege. Examination of my anus by the police doctor will confirm that.”
“Sure it will,” answered Charles smugly. “But Zara will confirm that you went on to have anal sex with him and he arse fucked you really good and proper.”
They shared some silence as the full ramifications swirled inside Steven’s head. Suddenly, without any warning, the boy burst into tears. Charles studied him for a minute or two asking himself whether the tears were genuine, or was this merely a convincing act?
“Look, I’m sorry lad.” Charles leaned forward earnestly. “I can see this has been too much for you – leaving home and and losing your innocence all in the space of a day. You need a break and I will see you get one. Stay here for a few days and find your feet and I will guarantee that nobody interferes with you against you wishes.
Steven stopped sobbing and tried hard to pull himself together. “You would do that for me?”
“Yes,” said Charles curtly.
“I don’t want no charity. And I can’t pay much,” Steven sniffled.
Charles threw his hands up on exasperation. “O.K., I’ll put you on the payroll for a week. How does that sound? You can work for your keep. What do you say to that idea?”
“It does not make up for you having me raped. But….”
“Thank fuck for that,” Charles exhaled. “Take a shower and go along to the restaurant for a breakfast. Somebody will collect you from there.”
Charles wasted no time in disappearing through the bedroom door.
Steven did as he was bid in a sort of zombie state of mind. Another eruption of tears was not far from the surface. He used the soap and shaving gear he found in the bathroom.
The breakfast tables were laid in the same dining room he had been with Zara the evening before. Many of the tables displayed the detritus of early risers who had had to hurry to catch a Tube train or whatever. Perhaps ten or so tables were occupied – a few with very strange looking characters. Head down, the first vacant table Steve spotted he headed for, not chancing any form of eye contact.
A buxom waitress was on Steven’s case straight away. Wearing the traditional black skirt and tights and white blouse she awarded Steven a welcoming smile. She was perhaps the same age as his mother, but pretty and chirpy – totally unlike his parent. “Charles says we have to feed you up good and proper young man. You are coming to work with us for a little while here in the hotel, he says?”
Steven nodded shyly. “That’s right.”
“He also says you are badly in need of some mothering. Perhaps I can help with that?”
“He did? Could we start with breakfast, please?”
Louis tittered. “Our full English Breakfast? Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, and skip any black pudding please.”
The exchange happened so quickly Steven had not taken in whether she was a brunette or a blonde even. Nor her name “Louise” written large on a badge pinned on her ample bosom. Of course, he had the chance to remedy that when she returned with his order on a tray. He confirmed then that her hair was shoulder length and chestnut brown, and that the hem of her skirt was a good three inches above the knee.
Refreshed, Steven felt a whole lot better about himself and his immediate plight. He would take up Charles’s offer and, if that was given in good faith, he would react likewise. He was beginning to realise that leaving home in such haste, without any forward planning, and with insufficient funds, was a pretty dumb move. And yet he was not anywhere near throwing in the towel and slinking back up North. What had happened to him the day before could not be undone. Could he put it down to “experience” and move on?
Charles had Steven change his clothes in his office. He was given a mauve track suit to wear with the heraldic hotel’s arms on the left breast. A pair of trainers for his feet and that was it. “No underpants, no socks?” Steven lamented. Charles just ignored the question. Just as he deliberately ignored Steven’s nakedness in the process of swapping garb.
Next Charles led the way outside into a large back yard where they crossed to a building whose windows were all steamed up; the hotel’s laundry. Inside there were three black women processing piles of sheets, pillow cases, table cloths and goodness knows what else.
Charles needed to resort to shouting to make himself heard above the racket of the machinery. “Morning ladies. Here’s the help I promised you. Put him to good use.” With that he bowed out leaving Steven just standing there.
The nearest woman shouted introductions. “I’m Pearl.” She pointed to the nearest, “Claudette,” and then “Edwina.” They had been forewarned of his arrival and she set the newcomer on to loading and unloading washing machines and dryers. Thereon she kept an eye on him all of the time lest he made mistakes.
At twelve-thirty all the machines were switched off and silence reigned. Claudette and Edwina promptly left. “They’re off to the women-only sitting in the canteen. I’ll stay with you Stevie, and we’ll eat here. Food is on it’s way, don’t worry.”
Pearl was instantly likeable and put her young charge at his ease. A couple of guys dressed in kitchen whites turned up with the expected food which included a Cumberland sausage on each dinner plate. It did occur to Steven that the chef might have been enjoying a little joke at his expense, him being a boy from Cumbria. Or perhaps it was just a kindly gesture to make the boy feel more at home?
Although the food on the two trays was identical as far as the eye could see, they were clearly marked “Pearl” and “Steven”. Only when the plates were empty did Steven comment on that fact.
Pearl looked decidedly uneasy. When Steven pressed the point did she then suggest that Steven’s food may have had some vitamins added as he needed building up. “That’s the sort of care The Pink Palace takes of its staff. It makes good sense as it reduces absences from sickness.”
The other two laundry women came back on the hour, the machines were started up and the afternoon session commenced. Numerous staff arrived, mainly to collect, but also to deliver, especially the heavily soiled fabrics from the kitchen and lightly marked table cloths and staff uniforms.
Of the three women Steven was working with, it was gradually Edwina that caught most of his attention. She had marginally the best figure of the three especially her ankles and legs. It was nothing unusual for a young man in late adolescence to admire and lust after the mature female form, and Steven became noticeably more randy as the afternoon wore on. At least the sexual excesses of the day before had, it seemed, not affected his appetite.
Shortly before the shift ended a familiar female form filled the outside door. Steven instantly recognised Louise, the breakfast waitress. She said her hello’s to the three laundry ladies before approaching Steven. “Hello darling, I’ve come to fetch you. I did mention to you at breakfast that Charles has arranged for you to spend the night at my place, with me and my son, Robin.”
Did she? Steven had no memory of that.
Behind the stable yard there was a row of Victorian houses originally built to accommodate the staff working for the big house. They all had green doors. Number 6 consisted of a front room, parlour and kitchen downstairs, a bedroom and bathroom upstairs and an attic bedroom, where Steven was to sleep.
“Don’t worry about noise, dear,” Louise seemed at pains t emphasise as they stood in the bedroom. “You can make as much noise as you like up hear and I won’t hear you.” Steven thought the comment a bit strange, but he let it pass. As he did, “and the bed’s king size, so you’ll have plenty of room,” Louise added.
Steven did wonder where her son slept. In the same bed as his mother? He followed her down to the kitchen, remarking to himself along the way that she was still a fine figure of a woman. Strange? – his Cumbrian brain would have hardly thought twice about her. His London brain was seemingly belonged to quite a different animal.
“Has my suitcase been sent over from the hotel?” Steven asked. “Charles promised it would be.”
“Oh, my lord,” Louise exclaimed, hand to mouth in exaggerated confusion. “Goodness knows where that may be. We’ll ask tomorrow. You can wear some of my son’s clothes. He is about your size and he won’t mind of course. Toddle along and have a shower and I’ll put some clothes on the seat outside.”
“Of course? Why of course?” Steven’s brain puzzled. Nevertheless, he went upstairs and took his time in the shower. It was a luxurious set-up, far larger and grander than showers usually are in terraced houses.
Thoroughly cleansed Steven found the clothes where Louise promised they would be, but they hardly what he had expected; a garish Hawaiian shirt mainly blues and yellows, a pair of skimpy khaki shorts, and short yellow socks. “What was this all about?” he mused.
That was the question Steven put to Louise when he caught her preparing food in the kitchen.
“My son, Robin, works full time in the hotel’s swimming pool and massage parlours and that’s what he wears every day. The shirt’s are so cheerful, aren’t they dear?, and that one really suits you.”
“Doesn’t he wear underpants even?” asked Steven, more than a little exasperated.
“If he did it wouldn’t be proper for you to wear another boy’s underpants, now would it? But no, he’s not allowed to. They want him to look as sexy as possible for the benefit of the clients. Why should it be that only the girls wear the sexy, skimpy clothes.”
“Fuck me,” Steven said under his breath, but just loud enough to be caught by Louise’s sharp ears.
“Just be patient and your wish will be granted,” she said in her head alone. Out loud she invited, “go and sit on the settee and watch some television whilst I finish dinner. The pool closes at nine and Robin should be here shortly afterwards.”
Steven searched his brain for an answer to what he should do next. He drew a blank and so resorted to accepting Louise’s suggestion. He repaired to the lounge and operated the television’s controls. Very soon, a fatiguing day spent in the laundry took its toll and Steven fell asleep.
He was awoken by the sound of the front door slamming shut. This in turn had Louise struggling out of the armchair in which she had been dozing. As she headed back to the kitchen, in walked her son. The two men could almost have been twins dressed as they were, fit for an Hawaiian beach. That brought a smile to Robin’s handsome face as he waited for Steven to get to his feet. He then moved in for a generous hug as a form of greeting, taking Steven by surprise in the process.
Back in separate chairs, waiting to be called through to dinner the two men made inconsequential chatter, weighing each other up at the same time. With Robin in just shirt and shorts there was no doubt that he had a lean and muscular body, a prime requirement for the roll of Life Guard at a swish London hotels, and one especially of the nature of the Pink Palace. Robin sported a close cropped black full beard and his hair style was conservative. Louise had mentioned early that her son was about seven years older than was Steven,
“How long have you been working at The Pink Palace?” asked Steven, genuinely interested.
“About five years now. I can’t think of a better job and I love it. I get more than enough sex and I’m really well paid. Charles is an ace employer. What more could a guy want?”
Unintentionally of course, Steven found his arousal levels rising. He was becoming increasingly aware of the man’s muscular body under the thin layer of cotton, shirt and shorts. Awareness was fast becoming arousal – circumstances entirely new to the young man. He was not to know that breakfast that morning at The Pink Palace, his food and drink had been delicately doctored with an arousal agent. Louise’s hand was behind that subterfuge just as Robin was not her son. Her first objective, with Robin’s connivance, was to get the two young men into the same bed together.
Neither Robin nor Louise were aware of what proprietor Charles’s ultimate plans were for the young country boy. They would have both connived, as they were both doing then, without the financial inducement on offer. Just the adrenalin rush in seducing an innocent into a life of sexual decadence was reward enough. That was an ultimate turn-on. Robbing a boy or girl of their virginity was one thing, but drawing them permanently into the web of perverted sexual pleasures, was on a different level altogether.
During dinner Louise kept the conversation alive with stories about sexually oriental misadventures that had happened both to Pink Palace staff and guests over the years. “I was keeping the pot boiling,” was how she described the episode to her friends long afterwards.
Her efforts were rewarded when she was able to watch Steven followed Robin up the stairs to the attic bedroom like a lamb, despite him having a good idea as to what was about to befall him. The drug Steven had imbibed had virtually supressed most of his inhibitions. At the door to the bedroom Robin turned and gently planted his lips on Steven’s. This was a calculated gesture, well rehearsed with clients in the hotel. If not repulsed, the intention was to create the opportunity for Robin to rapidly slide his tongue into the punters mouth as far as it would go. Then, if the tongue was accepted Robin knew the prize was literally his for the taking.
That little deceit was not strictly necessary on that occasion because Robin knew almost from the first minute he set eyes on young Steven, he would have no difficulty in seducing him.
It was Robin who broke the kiss by pulling his young charge the couple of steps necessary to have him inside the bedroom. Kissing him again he whispered, “drop your shorts lovely.” At the same time he helped Steven ease them of his hips, allowing them fall to the bedroom carpet. Before there could be any reaction from the boy, Robin dropped to his knees and locked his mouth firmly round Steven’s rigid penis, his hands on either arse cheek allowing his prey no movement backwards.
Steven exhaled sharply, partly out of surprise but mainly, he would have to admit to himself afterwards, out of sheer pleasure, heightened by the aphrodisiacal drug that had been eased into him at every opportunity during the day. Steven shuffled his legs a little further apart, hands now on Robin’s waist, he closed his eyes and concentrated his mind on the administrations that Robin was treating his genitals to.
Too soon, all to soon, he felt his ball sac lighten preparing as it was to shoot a long overdue stream of hot semen. The thought of shooting straight into another man’s mouth, and someone as sexy as Robin, was all too erotic for words, especially so as Steven selfishly, and mischievously, decided not to give his new (and first) lover a warning.
Robin had planned not to heed a warning anyway. He knew how powerful the seduction effect would be the quicker and further they delved into the depths of eroticism. Besides, allowing Steven to witness Robin’s apparent enjoyment at receiving, swilling and then swallowing the lad’s sperm, should re-enforce the idea that such was enjoyable and natural behaviour.
With a quantity of sperm still left in his mouth Robin quickly pulled his body straight, planted his lips on Steven’s, and and shot his spunk laden tongue deep into the boy’s mouth. Several times he removed his tongue, replenished it, and sent it back. Mission accomplished.
Robin divested himself of his shirt and shorts and Steven of his shirt and, both naked, he led his charge to the big double bed. There, he cradled Steven in his arms and, very soon, they both slumbered. For how long? Time did not matter.
Steven awoke first and was slow to remember where he was and the process of him having got there. The skin round his mouth was stiff with dried semen and his saliva salty. Robin was lying on his front, his head facing away but his right leg over Steven’s. Steven slid his hand down and enjoyed a little thrill as it found a bare arse cheek. No, it had not been a dream, it was all very real.
Steven’s movements woke Robin who was well conditioned to making a quick recovery in such circumstances. He immediately slid his hand sexily down and over the boy’s stomach and cupped his genitals. The reaction was immediate with a full erection imminent. “Let’s shower,” whispered Robin in Steven’s ear.
The shower cubicle was deliberately a two-person one and Robin made the process as erotic as he possibly could. He insisted he washed Steven from head to toe and, in most places, where his hands went his mouth and sometimes his tongue, were sure to follow. Before they were finished Robin wet-shaved Steven’s pubic hair – the clients generally preferred the rent boys to be so shorn. The effect this had on Steven was very satisfying.
Next on Robin’s conversion agenda would normally be to personally arse-fuck his younger charge, but Charles had warned him that Steven was still sore from when he was raped. Instead, lying back in bed, he lubed Steven up and gently fingered him; one, then two fingers, no more., whilst playing with the lad’s prick and balls with his other hand – careful not to push him over the edge though.
PUBLIC BETA
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the “A” icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Whether Steven heard footsteps mounting the stairs outside was not certain, but he could not help seeing Robin’s “mother” Louise, appearing at the door wearing a frilly knee -length nightdress. She mounted the bed with Robin’s help with a knee either side of Steven’s waist. As she lowered herself, Robin direct Steven’s prick to the folds of her cunt and she flopped down, suitably speared. Steven hollered something unintelligible in both surprise and on the verges of delight. Then in pure delight as Louise used her cunt muscles to good effect whilst seesawing her trunk like the old whore she undoubtedly was.
There was no way that Steven could last more than a few minutes before he was spraying his young spunk deep inside of Louise. His yelps of near ecstasy were possibly all Louise needed to push her over the top too as she herself mooed right the way through a lengthy orgasm. Or did she fake it? Yet there was still more to come. She detached herself from Steven’s diminishing prick and, with her Robin’s help, shuffled forward and up Steven’s body until her wet and dripping vagina was over Steven’s face. Then she relaxed her thigh muscles and her leaking twat landed squarely on the boy’s face. “Eat me out faggot,” she ordered. Clean up your mess.”
Afterwards, Robin led Steven to the shower for the second time inside an hour. “You’re very lucky,” he said as he washed Steven down, ” Mum does not let just anybody suck her twat.”
Naked in bed, Robin made sure that the last thing Steven remembered as he fell deeply asleep, was his lying in Robin’s arms. Just another part of the plan.
To be continued.
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
story TAGSREAD MORE OF THIS SERIESSimilar Stories