THE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT . . .

 

 

 

I'll do my best to keep this short . . . but am likely to fail. The Hyper-Realistic Horror Hotel is believed to just be fake, a facade, in no way Real. It couldn't be Real? Who would ever be that cruel . . . that inhumane towards other human beings?

 

With thousands of people walking through every year, seeing first hand the Helpless struggling women, the Extreme Tortures, the Screams, the Endless Begging for Help . . . if it was Real, they would report it to the local Police . . . Right?

 

Turns out it is Real! The cries and pleas of "PLEASE HELP ME!" are Real. The Guests of the Horror Hotel have been Checked-In by The Mistress and her Staff. Willing Tricked or Un-willing Dragged, they are now living an Endless Horror of Daily Torture!

 

Never to be Checked-Out. Many Reports and concerns have been filed with the local Police. The responses to the Reports are always along the same line. [After further Investigation, we've determined that the Hyper-Realistic Horror Hotel, has been and continues to be the most upright and professional Entertainment Destination in our Town]

 

In addition to the Outstanding Questions as to how all of the above can be, a Loyal Reader, a Loyal Fan and Lover of the Series asked me a Year and a Half ago: "Are there any plans for a stand alone story about the Mistress of the hotel? She's such an interesting character."

 

Well @tarheelzfoeme, THANKS to your Fandom and Question, I give to you: FINAL BONDAGE MISTRESS. It won't answer every question we have about The Mistress and her Horror Hotel . . . but it's sure to Teach my Readers much. Hope You Enjoy It!

 

 

Zatanna Dark

 

THE MEETING . . .

 

 

 

I'm not at all proud of myself with the giddy and childish undertones of my private message to Mistress. What should have been a much more professional request to Interview her was just me fawning over her and begging. Either way . . . I did end up with the result I was hoping for . . .

 

Now here I am, sitting across from a woman who not only interests the hell out of me, but also scares me to death. I know this is all just a persona, a character, a roll play she is performing in a perfect stone-cold way. It's just her eyes . . . her glowing red eyes I'm unable to figure out?

 

Being both a big fan of magic and special effects . . . I've only seen such a glow that's been digitally added in post-production. This isn't after post-production, and this isn't a Movie. This is real life, happening not three feet in front of me in a halfway well-lit conference room of the Horror Hotel . . .

 

She likes people to call it by its full name: The Hyper-Realistic Horror Hotel. For me to make sure this once in a life-time rare opportunity to Interview Mistress succeeds . . . I will call it whatever she wants and do whatever she asks.

 

Her skin is border lining on clown makeup white, but without the clumpy, think layer of makeup look. My knowledge of Movies also involves practical effects, makeup and more. What I'm looking at is just plain the color of her skin.

 

The Mistress of the Horror Hotels body seems that of someone who's been starving themself. To the point of seeing the shape of bones in her arms and shoulders I shouldn't be able to see, along with cheekbones that would normally be covered by a fuller face.

 

I'm trying to determine the exact color of her hair . . . but I just can't tell? Is it grey? A very dirty blonde? Really am not positive, other than I know for sure it's slicked back and slightly disheveled with small random bits of hairs doing their own thing.

 

Her breasts are not large . . . or if they are, they're being compressed more than expected by her skintight and very well shined up latex little black dress. It has no arms or collar to it along with no visible seams.

 

As odd as my description is . . . I can't help but be enticed, intrigued and excited by this woman of power before me. She is the Manager . . . I mean Mistress of this Horror Hotel that seems to be growing in popularity and profit at a record pace.

 

Since I came in, Mistress barely moved at all. At times, I wasn't fully sure she was breathing? Best I can tell, she may not have even blinked since I first sat down? She was in her chair and sitting when I was first guided in.

 

Her arms were behind the table, which is why I didn't see what was about to be shown . . . her blood covered hands and forearms! Of course, it was stage blood, but I've never seen such a make up of reds that looked both fresh and old? Glossy and dull with moist and still wet beads or drips of blood!

 

After my initial gasp . . . very unprofessional of me again! I calm myself with a few deep breaths. My second goal of the deep breaths was to take in her essence, her perfume, her sweat . . . but I could smell neither. Only the smell of blood! The smell of actual blood?

 

I needed to remember that the Hyper-Realistic Horror Hotel is a live action form of Horror Entertainment. Visitors aren't just watching it on a screen . . . they're living it with first person viewings. To have a smell of actual blood added to the makeup, only made sense. I need to calm down.

 

The conference room had pretty much been silent since the door was closed. The noises and racket inside my head are far from quiet! With my thoughts, the smell of blood and the oddly erotic visuals before me . . . I was unprepared for her voice!

 

In an odd monotone and a little bit irritating voice, the Mistress says, "I understand you have some questions for me?" Fumbling my words horribly, "Um . . . ahh . . . yes . . . yes, I do . . . questions . . . I have some questions for you . . ."

 

We both see my hands starting to shake as my pen slips from my hand. Yes, I said pen. I'm only allowed a pen and a legal pad. No type of recording device, laptop, digital pad, phone or camera. Per Mistress's instructions and agreement to meet.

 

Other than the tiny sound of my pen slowly rolling across the cold metal table . . . there was nothing. I watched, mesmerized and waiting for it to just stop rolling! It finally did when it hit the small valley or indent that was a few inches from the edge, all the way around her desk.

 

Glancing to finally take in a fuller view of her desk, is when I realized at the far-left end . . . there was a drain! Fuck! Her desk is made from one of those tables in a morgue where they drain the blood from a body!

 

I never saw her arms or hands moving towards me! They just cupped and embraced my shaking hands from above! The warmth and moisture of her palms and fingers on the backs of my hands was oddly comforting as her glowing eyes connected with mine . . .

 

"It's ok. I understand you're nervous. My Office is a safe place for you. When I agreed to do this interview, I agreed to being asked anything. You have my promise no harm will come to you in here and I'll be 100% honest with you."