The Chambermaid
By ImP
A young man finds out what happens when he leaves his hotel room in a mess



Christine knew that she was in for a bad day. She’d heard from the other 
hotel staff about the rugby club dinner the night before and she knew, 
from past experience, of the state that they left the rooms in. 
Unfortunately she was in no position to complain. At thirty-six and 
recently divorced she needed all the money she could get. And without 
skills being a chambermaid was about the best job she could hope for. It 
did have its perks though; many a client dropped her a tip, particularly 
some of the men who took a shine to her. For unlike the usual run of 
maids that worked in hotels she still took pride in her looks and kept 
herself fit at the local women’s self-defence league. 

When she entered Room 118 it was just what she expected; the room was a 
complete tip clothes, towels and linen everywhere. It smelled like a 
brewery too. What she didn’t expect what to find the occupant still in 
bed; it was past eleven o’clock and there had been no sign on the door. 

“Come on up with you. It’s time for you to be checking-out. Sir.” The 
last added as an afterthought. 

She pulled back the curtains and looked at the occupant. He was a robust 
young man in his early twenties, clearly suffering the effects of a 
heavy nights drinking. And he was sporting a massive erection that was 
clearly visible beneath the bedsheet that was his only covering. 
Christine was no prude, far from it, but she was offended at was she 
took to be an arrant disregard for her feelings by some arrogant yuppie. 
Her feelings got the better of her and without thinking she strode to 
the bed, grabbed the sheet and pulled it off. His cock stood erect 
before her eyes with the man’s hand around it; they looked at each other 
in stunned silence. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded “Get out of my room.” 
Perhaps Christine would have left the room, as she had already retreated 
a couple of steps, had he not risen from his bed and lowered over her 
menacingly. Christine was not to be threatened; summoning up all her 
courage she grabbed the young man’s arm and twisted forcing it into an 
armlock behind his back. The man was so taken aback by this that he was 
forced around facing the bed, bent double. 

Christine’s temper was so aroused, and the temptation so great, that she 
landed a great smack on his bare buttocks. There was a momentary 
stillness in the room as though both participants were waiting for their 
cue. Christine seized the moment; she realised that the man was not 
going to fight her, and she went right into action. Another half-dozen 
powerful smacks landed across his startled behind, and then another 
half-dozen. From where she stood, almost at his side, Christine could 
see that his cock, which had softened at the first assault, was now 
harder than before and standing straight up, ready for action. 

Christine stopped, more to rest her arm than anything, the young man 
looked round at her; there was almost a look of pleading in his eyes. 
Christine had known men like him before, sly and fawning when then 
wanted something, arrogant and discourteous when they got it; they 
sickened her these spineless louts. Twisting his arm further Christine 
had the young man bent double then with her free hand she delivered a 
sharp blow between his legs right into his balls. The young man retched 
and grabbed at his balls with his free hand. Christine sat down on the 
bed without once releasing her hold; this brought the man down on top of 
her. 

“Lie across my lap. I’m going to beat you until you beg for mercy. Do 
you understand, beg for mercy?” she reached down and took off her shoe, 
it was light and flexible just right for a spanking. 

“But why?” he asked. “What have I done?” 

“You’re a man that’s all. You’re a man and you need to be punished.” 
Christine didn’t argue any more but started spanking him hard. At first 
he resisted and behaved like a man but soon the pain and shame were too 
much and he started to sob. 

“Beg for mercy.” Christine demanded. He could take it no longer. 

“Please. Please. I can’t take any more. Mercy. Mercy.” He was barely 
audible as he sobbed out his plea. Christine desisted but was aware of 
the young man’s erection hard between her thighs. She pushed him down 
onto the bed and sat astride him. 

“Don’t come until I say so.” She said as she pulled her panties to one 
side and plunged down onto his cock. 

It was almost like her raping him as Christine rode the young man 
occasionally slapping his face in her excitement, but before she 
orgasmed he came. Christine stood up and looked down at him. 

“You disobeyed me you bastard. You men are all the same, selfish little 
shits. Well now I’m going to give you a real thrashing, but first I’ll 
just sober you up a bit.” Christine grabbed the man’s arm and dragged 
him to the bathroom. Despite his objections he made only a token gesture 
of resistance and Christine knew why. Deep within himself he was 
enjoying it, perhaps all men enjoy being treated like this she thought, 
I should try it more often. 

Once in the bathroom Christine held him with one arm behind his back 
while she filled the washbasin full of water. 

“Here” as she plunged his head beneath the water, “this’ll sober you 
up.” Christine waited just long enough then raised his head to allow him 
to gasp a few breaths before repeating the dunking. He struggled more 
vigorously now as the cold water cleared his head but Christine 
tightened her grip and pushed his head down into the water again. She 
repeated the dunking until all resistance, even of a token kind, was 
over and Christine was satisfied that all his fight was gone. She pulled 
his head back and let him drop to the floor gasping for breath. She 
removed her overall to avoid getting it damaged, then she set about him 
with her feet. A few quick kicks to the stomach had him retching and 
helpless. 

“If you can’t satisfy a woman what use are you?” she asked rhetorically, 
adding a further kick. Christine was really enjoying herself, she hadn’t 
enjoyed her job this much before. She knelt astride the stunned young 
man and slapped him about the face and chest. She wondered just how far 
she could go. She got up and sat down on the edge of the bath. 

“Now. Kiss my feet to show your gratitude for pointing out your 
deficiencies.”  And dutifully he did just that to Christine’s great 
pleasure and delight. Never before had she had a man so completely at 
her command, and she was relishing every minute of his subjection. 

“You’re pathetic. Just look at you growing hard again. You must enjoy 
being beaten by a woman.” For he had indeed grown hard and when he 
looked up at Christine there was a look of complete subjugation in his 
eyes, an almost dog-like devotion. 

“If you enjoy it so much then I’ll just have to beat you some more.” 
Christine went back to the bedroom and fetched one of his trainers then 
returned to the bathroom and sat back on the edge of the bath. The young 
man had remained where she had left him prostrate on the floor. 

“Get up here.” She pointed to her lap. As he lay naked across her lap, 
his cock trapped between her smooth thighs Christine walloped him with 
his trainer until he was a sobbing, blubbering baby. But as he squirmed 
and squealed on her lap his erection grew longer and harder. Soon he lay 
still and moved in time with the beating rubbing his cock between 
Christine’s lovely legs. 

Christine grabbed the soap, wetted it then lubricated his anus. The 
young man knew what was coming but all he could do was to emit a feeble 
“No!” 

Christine ignored him and skewered him on her finger. The pressure on 
his prostate was too much, and he came again. But this time it was 
Christine who controlled the timing. 

Christine dressed and looked around the room as she left. 

“You can clean your own room today. Sir.” She added as an afterthought. 

The End