The (Magical interdimensional lesbian) Wedding Castle Hotel

Driving under the gold-plated portcullis of the white marble gatehouse there is a stoplight in front of you and a pair of pretty young women in shiny sexy maid dresses on either side of the vehicle. One of them steps forward and leans down to look in the window, still smiling.

“Checking in miss?” the maid asks, “Oh, here to see the mistress of the castle? And your name is? One second please.”

The Maid stands up straight and puts a finger to her ear. She nods her head and then leans down again addressing you inside.

“Mistress is expecting you,” the Maid said, “We will park your vehicle, she is right upstairs.”

Getting out of the car, the maid hands you a valet ticket with your licenses plate written on it, the other maid waves you to a door in the side of the gatehouse passage. Once inside, you find yourself in a magically clean check in room with a number of other pretty twenty-something-year-olds in shiny maid dresses standing at computer terminals or by luggage carts. One of them comes towards you and gestures for you to go to an elevator cleverly hidden in the side wall. Stepping in, the maid doesn’t join you, but once the doors close, the elevator automatically raises up. It dings when the light illuminates the number “5”. The door opens to a spacious open layout office. At the back with her back to a massive window is a woman in a highbacked chair behind a marble desk seemingly carved out of the stone floor. The woman puts a hand on an all-in-one computer, turning it on and turning it to face you.

“Greetings,” the woman says as she gets up and steps out from the shadow of her chair, “I am the Mistress of the Castle, the owner and operator of this wedding hotel.”

The woman snapped her fingers and the window behind her dimmed and the candelabras in the office brightened. The woman was very pretty, seemingly in her thirties with raven black hair and alabaster skin, curvy hourglass figure and full d cup bosom. She wears a black catsuit that covers her neck, arms, legs, while she wears a silver shiny dress in a style like a dark age dress with bell sleeves but the hem of the skirt is shortened to the length her knees and heeled silver leather knee boots. She smiles as she sits on the edge of her stone desk.

“Welcome, I am sure you have many questions,” The woman smiles, “The bottom-line up front is that this is a wedding destination hotel. The couple checks in the night before, the morning of their big day, they are pampered in different salons, can’t have the couple see each other before the ceremony, they have their wedding in one of our chapels, and then have their reception in the great hall and spend the first night of their honeymoon in a Honeymoon suit.”

The woman points at the monitor next to her as she speaks and the photos that came up in the slide show. There were many different wedding chapels, each photo perfect in its own right. The picture of the great hall was grand and impressive, with rich tapestries and large tables and gothic high-backed chairs.

“The catch?” The woman smiled, “This is for lesbian couples. We only do lesbian weddings. This whole castle is located in a pocket dimension created by a goddess of lesbianism. Everyone woman who stays here becomes a lipstick lesbian in turn.”

The Mistress of the castle smiled politely while you speak.

“It doesn’t mater that you are married to a man you love dear,” the owner of the castle stood up, “All women here become pretty feminine lesbians who desire other pretty feminine lesbians. The longer you stay the deeper the effect.”

The woman went over to the book case on the side and made an overly dramatic effort of bending over to look in a small cabinet hidden behind fake books. She looks back and knows I am ogling her ass and curves.

“Another side effect of living here is restored youth and enhanced beauty,” the woman said looking back, “Each of the maids here were once a guest who decided to stay. Anyone who lives here is given free use of each other when off duty.”

The woman waited for my question.

“Latex, our uniforms are made of latex rubber,” The woman stood up and ran her hands over her body, “A number of the suites are themed around variations of latex fetish sexual perversions. Each floor of eight towers is a suite, with its own theme. Not all of the themes are latex fetish, but each suite has its own kink to impart; Mistress and , porn-star exhibitionism, pet-play, music sub-cultures…”

The owner listens to my question as she goes over to the book case on the other side of the office.

“I have seen off more than a few Latex Goth Couples,” the woman noted in an amused tone, “Just yesterday we did a wedding for a heroine taking that a costumed villainess as her leather pet kitten .”

The elevator opened and another maid came in, she strutted right up to the Mistress of the Castle. She was a white woman, I wasn’t sure of her age… her hair was brown, but with white streaks.

“This is Maybelle,” the Mistress of the Castle spoke, “Only a week ago, she was the mother of the bride.”

The owner pointed at a picture on her computer as the maid walked up and kissed her full on the lips with obvious tongue. The wedding photo were of a brunette girl and blonde in white wedding gowns with spider web details and there was a white-haired woman behind the brunette bride that was clearly an older version of the maid making out with the owner. The maid broke her kiss but fondled the owner as she turned to me to speak.

“My niece Petra and Gwen make such a lovely couple,” Maybelle smiled, “Don’t you agree?”

My eyes were fixed on the maid’s hands going up and down the curves of the owner’s body as the owner was doing likewise to her minion.

“The heroines in the Femme-Fatale suite are checking out,” Maybelle said, “they are now cliché evil lezdom seductresses’ intent on turning heroines into slutty lesbian bad girls.”

“I am sure you enjoyed your spankings last night,” the owner said before kissing Maybelle again.

I was transfixed by the wanton but causal display of lust in front of me.

“Ah, a new set of clients are arriving… Did you want to stay to document the proceedings? Or run to your husband while you are still bisexual?” the owner laughed.