In The Hallway
from Robin's File & Story Archives
"Incident in the Third Floor Hallway"
"The Hotel Anthology" by Robin Roberts
It was my third day at "The Hotel", and I was 'almost' getting used to the way this hotel was run. The guests need only to ask, and the staff would obey.
I was leaving my third floor room, on my way to the The Hotel Lobby, and as I approached the guest elevators, I passed the staff (or maybe service?) elevators. The elevator door opened and an obviously female form almost ran into me. She was dressed(?) in a full-body, ultra-shiny, rubberized cat-suit, and a pair of high-heels with the highest heel that I think I have ever seen: they must have been nearly seven inches high. Her light brown hair flowed over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. She was carrying what appeared to be, clean towels on a black, lacquered tray. No, that is not quite correct: the tray was attached to her. The tray was held to her body by a belt around her waist, and the front of the tray was held in place by extremely fine silver chains connecting the front of the tray to her nipple rings, and then continued up to a wide, black leather collar. Also, there was no way that she could have relieved the weighty pressure of the tray on her nipple rings. Her wrists were bound side by side behind her back with her fingertips touching the base of her collar. It was as if she were praying, but her hands were behind her back.
At first I thought I should apologize for nearly running in to her, but then I remembered that as a guest, I was always right. She should apologize to me for not watching where I was going, but that would have been impossible: she was wearing what appeared to be a strap around the lower part of her face that could only be a pump-gag of very large proportions. No, I don't think any sound, let alone an apology would have escaped the lips of this lady. Her very blue eyes went very wide. I was unable to determine if she was using her eyes as a way to beg my forgiveness, or maybe she was asking me not to report this transaction. I asked her name. (Stupid me, she was gagged.) She turned her eyes down and to the left, guiding my gaze to the name plate on her left breast. There was no name, just a number: #305. I asked, "Your name is number 305?" in a dumbfounded query. She shook her head in the negative, and pointed down the hall with her chin. I asked, "You are staying in room 305?" She shook her head up and down in a yes motion, and her eyes lit up as though she had just won a very large cash prize playing "Charades" on television. "Are you a 'guest' or 'staff'?" I asked. She looked at me quizically. There I go again, showing my stupidity. She can't answer "or" questions. "Are you a 'guest' of the hotel?" This got a slow shake of her head in a no answer, and she turned her head down so that her chin was nearly touching her chest and rolled her eyes up to look at me in a way that would melt very large blocks of ice.
She stepped to my left in an attempt to continue her trip down the hall. I stepped to my left to block her travel down the hall. "Then you are a member of 'the staff'?" brought another silent, yes answer. "Are you permanently assigned to room 305?" brought an almost imperceptible shrug of the shoulders in an "I don't know" answer. "Have you ever been assigned to another room?" brought a negative shake of her head. Again she tried to continue her travel down the hall, but I stepped in front of her again. "If I were to rent room 305, would you be assigned to me?" brought an almost coy look of approval. "Could I change that outfit you are wearing?" illicited an almost pleading look from her eyes. "If I were to change your bondage, what would you like changed most?" She thought about it for a moment and then her face went into an almost comical look as she turned her eyes cross-eyed and down, pointing to her gag. I asked, "The gag?" She responded in a very animated yes manner. "If I were to remove your gag, it would be for one of three reasons: to kiss you; to have you use your mouth and tongue on my body; or to replace that pump contraption with a cloth gag." She responded with her eyes that told me that she would be very pleased with any of these options, and stepped forward so that her head softly touched my shoulder and moved her head up and down in an almost kitten-like manner. I stepped back, and reminded her that she had been given a task assignment that needed to be completed. The look on her face was one of near disappointment.
She stepped to my right and proceeded up the hall toward room 305. She had taken about ten steps when she abruptly stopped, turned to face me and with her eyes never leaving my face, she bowed her head in an obvious combination of messages: invitation and submission. She then smiled with her eyes, turned and continued on her way.
As I turned and continued toward the elevator on my way to the Lobby, I made a mental note to myself to ask the Concierge about moving me to Room 305.
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