Guest Services

Her feet ached. Her back ached. But most importantly of all, her soul ached. The cool air prickled her skin with gooseflesh as she sat in her late model sedan. The static drone of guitars and distorted vocals filling her ears as she lifted the cigarette to her lipstick smudged lips, holding it there with trembling fingers as she was forced to do something she had not done in months, contemplate the velvet length of night as it stretched on toward the sheer embrace of dawn. Then, and only then, would she know peace. Peace through the turmoil her body craved like an addict after their first injection.

It all came back like a nostalgic perfume when she closed her eyes. The intricate patterns of the plush carpeting, the cold, unyielding tile of the bathroom floor, and most of all, that presence—those tiny feet in their simple black dress shoes—the perfectly-pressed ebony slacks that tapered so beautifully...

Yes, it would be an eternity until tomorrow. She turned the key in the ignition, the engine grinding into life as the car began to move through the silent, glossy lot of the hotel.

The stop had been her last of the evening. Just delivering some whiskey, a couple of glasses, and a few dessert selections. She moved with the dogged determination of the overworked—passing maids and guests alike as she went, offering her best mechanical, kind and weary smile as she hurried along with her cart, her shoes making not the slightest whisper on the plush hall carpets as she approached the suite door.

"Room service," she called with a brisk knock. "Ma'am?"

One of the double doors swung open and she was admitted by a rather brisk, yet pretty enough blonde, in her early thirties. The word androgynous came to her then, as she recalled the video vamps of her youth—such beauty tempered with a masculine flair had been all the rage.

"Just bring it over to the desk," the guest sighed, her tone self-assured but rather weary, as if she, too, had just made her way to the end of a long, difficult day.

"Very good, Ma'am."

She silently pushed the cart over to the large, mahogany desk with its brass accents while the woman watched, arms folded, as she stood at the end of an immense crème leather sectional. The soft glow of a nearby lamp caught the pale gold brilliance of her closely-cropped hair, and her face appeared distant and clean, as if she were lost in thought, darkly-penciled brows lending her eyes a hint of seriousness as she watched the girl empty the contents of the cart, placing the covered dishes onto the polished surface.

"So where does a girl go to have a good time around here?" the woman asked, tapping one foot against the piece of furniture upon which she leaned.

"Ma'am?"

"If you were going out, dear, where would you go?"

The maid paused, bottle in mid-air over the silver tray, her classically pretty features confused for a moment. A rut was thrown into the usually smooth path of interaction between she and the hotel guests, and it made her pause.

"Well..." she began, blushing softly. "It all depends on what you'd consider fun, I suppose."

She returned to her work, aware that the guest was moving about behind her. The radio was tuned to a modern rock station and a suitcase was dragged toward the bedroom suite.

Turning with her cart, the girl started toward the door, not seeing the woman. She didn't want to interrupt her, but had to ensure all her needs were met. Frowning, she left the cart to peer down the hallway.

"Ma'am? If there's anything else you should need, please feel free to call again. Is there anything else I can get for you before I go?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. Come back to the master suite, would you?"

Despite the nagging doubt in her mind and the newly-emerging butterflies in her diminutive belly, she did so, her stockings making her legs itch, her feet longing to be out of the dress flats she wore and into socks. She hurried toward the spacious bedroom.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Her eyes widened when she beheld the blonde.

Perched upon the edge of the bed, the guest held two items. The first was a bulging, sealed envelope, the second a delicate length of silver chain connected to a gleaming ebony leather collar studded with bits of sparkling crystal.

"I am only going to be here for three days, and I don't know anyone in this Godforsaken town. I don't know your name, and it doesn't matter. In this envelope..." she raised her hand, holding the package out to the girl, the thick paper packet straining obviously as if it were about to burst. "There is three thousand dollars. Believe me. I can afford it. And this?" she gave the leash and collar a soft shake. The fragile-looking length of chain jingled softly like faerie chimes. "This is where it gets interesting.

"You're cute, you have a pretty lousy job, and just the right personality. Does your shift end soon?"

"Ma'am ... I don't know what you're implying, but—"

"That was a yes or no question," the blonde cut her off with a sharp gesture of the hand holding the envelope. The maid's eyes were drawn first to it, then back to the collar, and she swallowed hard, lowering her eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am. It does."

"Then I am making you an offer. I've had one Hell of a day, I don't know exactly where I could find what I'm looking for tonight, and you'll do nicely. I will pay you three thousand dollars for an hour of your company. But I don't want a whore. I want a girl who is coming back because she wants to."

The girl closed her large almond-shaped eyes, then opened them slowly as if waking from a dream, gazing fixedly at her toes. Did it show that easily? She'd tried to keep up appearances. She wore her hair long unless work demanded it be pinned up. She possessed a feminine manner and figure that drove men wild, and she tried to keep her gaze neutral at all times, no matter who she was admiring. But her heart had felt that familiar bittersweet pang when she had looked at this woman. Precisely her type.

The gait like a cocky young boy, the air of confidence and pride like an expensive perfume—the attraction had been there, but as usual, the maid had felt the secondary reaction of embarrassment and a need to suppress her feelings. She had been with only two women in her twenty-two years, making her aware of her lack of experience, and how her never-ending hunger for more drove her to contemplate mad ideas from time to time. But this? This was far beyond any of her imaginings.

"Well? I don't like to be kept waiting, and the clock is ticking."

"I have to go punch out..." Her mind raced and she felt knots in her stomach as she backed hesitantly toward the door. "Umm ... I..."

"Go punch out then come right back. You have exactly fifteen minutes. Take too long, and I'll be very unhappy with you." There was a slight hint of humor in the blonde's words, but the maid felt that this was simply to put her nerves at ease.

She did as she was told, pausing only to pull the room service cart with her. Her feet propelled her like a wind-up doll as she moved in a daze, disappearing down the service corridor to the elevator.

It was going to happen. She was going to get laid! And this woman ... her arctic eyes and assured manner...

The giddiness settled into her as she returned the cart and hurried to gather up her belongings. She felt herself moving out of the mundane shell of Wholesome Guest Assistant, and into the exciting, arousing skin of her true inner self. Like a couture gown, it was a feeling she only knew on special occasions or during rare moments when the planets aligned and offered her just such a chance. And she knew, before she knocked on the suite door, that she would be willing to do anything this beautiful, petite and somehow irresistible woman asked of her. She would do it in the name of experience and for the joy of feeling true and honest pleasure for the first time in ages.

She'd barely lowered her hand before the door opened and the woman caught her wrist, pulling her in, closing the door behind them. Their lips met and she could taste the whisky she had brought up as they embraced, now her body filled with warm tingling and anticipation as she reveled in the feeling of yielding breasts against her own and the curve of the blonde's waist in her arms.

As soon as it began, the kiss was broken and the blonde was gazing into her eyes, one hand reaching up to stroke her cheek as the other began to unfasten the little bow tie she wore.

"You're so adorable," she mused almost absently as she unbuttoned the girl's starched dress blouse, hurriedly pulling it off her shuddering shoulders. The bra, a simple department store affair, followed.

A blush crept into the girl's cheeks as she was beheld by the guest, half-nude, in one of the hotel's finest suites. This situation was definitely unusual, but she would take what she could right now. The thought of tumbling in the Egyptian cotton sheets with this little goddess made her feel warm and tingly and brought a flush into her cheeks.

"Yes. It's different, isn't it?" the blonde purred, pausing to put the girl's clothes on the sectional, her eyes not leaving the chocolate-colored eyes of the maid. "No low lights and sheets to hide behind. Step out of your shoes, take off your skirt, pantyhose, and underwear for me. Put them with your shirt and bra."

Slowly, nervously, she did as she was told, the cool air upon her bare arms and back making her shiver. Once she was completely undressed, she stood before the blonde who produced the collar and leash from her pants pocket.

"Do you want to be my good little pet?" she asked, proffering the collar. The girl blushed crimson to the roots of her dark hair. The blonde moved closer, planting a sensuous kiss on the maid's full lips as she brushed her knuckles against the girl's jaw.

"Ummmm..."

"Yes, Ma'am," the blonde instructed, reaching up and buckling the collar about the girl's long, swanlike throat as she bent to nibble just beneath her right ear. "You'll call me Ma'am."

"Yes, Ma'am..." the girl whispered, shivering as the blonde's nails gently raked the nape of her neck.

"On your hands and knees, dear. You'll note that the clock there indicates that it's five after ten. For the next hour you'll be my obedient little pet, and you'll do as I say or else it's out the door with you. Is that understood?"

"Yes..." The leash was tugged, and the leather bit into her throat, making her gasp.

"Yes, Ma'am. You're a hotel concierge. I know you have better manners than that."

"Yes ... yes, Ma'am."

"Very good. Now come with me. Quickly now, we haven't much time."

The maid dropped to her hands and knees, and then began to crawl awkwardly after the little black shoes, the plush carpeting padding her movement as she went, her thoughts too incoherent to make sense. She was naked. She was in a collar on a leash. She was being pulled toward the bathroom...

She examined her hands as she crawled. She studied her carefully-painted fingernails and the contrast of the cherry-colored polish against the golden carpet. Her hair brushed against her shoulders, casting shadows that swayed as she crawled. The combination of colors was pretty. She thought she might look quite appealing as she moved. Let's not think about the fact that we are being led along like a little puppy in obedience training. Let's think about how lovely we look, because that's what all this is about, right?

She glanced ahead to see that they were definitely headed into the bathroom. A cold prickle of anxiety jabbed at her mind, and she began to feel the first hints of doubt. She had expected to be led into the bedroom, maybe tied down or something kinky of that nature. Not taken into the bathroom—unless this woman wanted to shower with her. But that didn't seem like what she intended. Time slowed. She balked at the threshold of the rooms, and the leash was tugged insistently.

"Now now. What did I say about manners? You don't want to leave already do you?" the woman teased, delicately arching a brow. "I'm just getting to know you."

They crossed the immense, bathroom with its gold fixtures over to the large vanity that spanned the entire length of one wall, a mirror behind. The blonde paused, still clutching the leash as she reached for a stack of ivory towels. She began to spread them on the countertop. Finally, she stopped, turning to the girl.

"Come on," she chirped, gently patting the countertop as one might to encourage a timid kitten. "Up here. Be a good girl and hop up here."

"No..." The girl balked, not able to believe what was being asked of her. The exoticism was rapidly being replaced with an uncomfortable anxiety, and she began to wonder if perhaps she should reconsider her little adventure.

"No?" The woman's brows lifted, and the set of her mouth was alarming. "Then I will ask you to go get dressed and leave." No more humor in those eyes, they were stern and serious.

The girl sat back on her knees, her cheeks flaming, as she eyed the towel-covered area. Why did she want her up there? What sort of fucked up action was she into? But the envelope suddenly surfaced in her memory, and she began to reconsider her choice. It was the best of both worlds. A fling and a job all at once. Sure, it bordered on something a whore would do, but if her heart was in it, did that still count? She wouldn't have to stress over any more bills ... And the woman was so gorgeous and confident. Perhaps she would learn a thing or two tonight she might not discover again, and she would really kick herself to let so much money slip away on account of her damned nerves.

Getting to her feet, she approached the countertop, her knees grateful to be off the polished marble flooring. As if she were a marionette, she felt her right leg lifting, then resting upon the padded surface, her left following.

"Good girl. Now lie on your back with your knees up. Spread your legs." The blonde smiled warmly at her, obviously pleased by, and impressed at, the maid's change of heart.

"Why?"

"That's not your business. That is for me to know and for you to find out. Now..." she approached, and despite her short stature, gazed down at her new plaything. "Open your mouth." When the girl hesitated, the blonde reached down, taking her lower jaw and wrenching it open, carefully placing the handle of the leash between the girl's teeth. "Now leave that there. I'll be right back."

Footsteps moved away and the girl turned to see her face in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and a little frightened, the black leather handle of the leash a startling contrast to her pale face, her breasts high, small pink nipples like stones, thighs pressed tightly together despite her instructions.

Then she saw the blonde holding a box. She turned her head to read the label. It was a prepackaged bottle of douche. And the guest was grabbing a washcloth and bar of soap.

"Just going to give you a bath," she smiled brightly, noting the look of shock on the girl's face. "Most pets adore baths, and don't worry, I will be very thorough."

The maid closed her eyes, her head starting to swim. Her limbs felt weak and she wondered if she might not faint. Could one faint while lying down? She heard the splash of water from the faucet. The blonde was now humming along with the music drifting through the air, mingling with the maid's trepidation. It seemed only to heighten the blonde's pleasure as she moved to the body on the vanity, a warm, soapy cloth in her hands.

"Open your eyes," she instructed in a caressing tone. "Look into the mirror and watch as I bathe you."

Beginning with the girl's breasts, the blonde scrubbed and washed, one hand reaching down to capture the maid's wrists and hold her arms above her head so she could wash the tender flesh of her inner arm and down her side, then her forearms and small white hands with their long, delicate fingers, a soft smile playing at the corners of the guest's mouth as she watched the girl fight to lie passive and still, even when the cloth tickled her sides and beneath her arms.

The look the girl wore was worth the price. As the bathing progressed from gentle caresses of her face with the cloth to more lengthy, concentrated cleansing of her breasts, navel, feet, legs, and finally, lean inner thighs, the frightened doe expression changed into one of incredulous disbelief.

When she made her final trip to the sink to rinse and soap the cloth again, she observed that her little pet had wedged her thighs tightly together, a trace of stubbornness creeping into the set of her lovely jaw line. The blonde really had to bite back her amusement at the little firecracker she had stumbled upon—the level of enjoyment she'd gain from tonight might be more even than she had hoped.

"I am going to offer you a choice, and you should consider yourself lucky, as I don't do this very often." The blonde rested her empty hand on the girl's closely-trimmed pubic mound, inwardly excited at the shade of scarlet that painted the maid's cheeks. "You will either watch your reflection in the mirror..." she began to wrench the trembling thighs apart. "... or you will meet my eyes and you won't look away."

"I..." Something within the girl began to shift. Crumble. A languor began to suffuse her resistance despite her nerves. "I ... I can't..."

"The mirror..." Warm, slight scratching pressure of the cloth upon her outer labia, increasing to part the flesh. "... Or my eyes. Decide now." Their eyes locked as the washing proceeded in long, languid strokes, the lovely pink flesh beneath the cloth swelling, the girl's eyes wide and unbelieving. "Very good," the blonde breathed, moving her attention up to the maid's little clit, gently washing back and forth, using her index and middle finger to assert pressure. The inner struggle was so beautifully evident that the girl longed to shut those almost mournful eyes as she began to perspire and bite her lower lip, her little nipples kissably erect.

"Oh ... don't stop..." the maid gasped as the blonde stepped back, reaching for the douche. She removed it from the box, then placing it aside, returned to her genital manipulations, her eyes daring the maid's to remain on her face.

It was almost unbearable. The warmth spreading through her limbs as those skilled fingers worked was delicious, and she could lose herself in the azure depths of that gaze ... until she thought of the douching. The humiliation was enough to make her libido curl into a protective fetal ball. But then the sensation would threaten again, making her want to throw her arms about the devilish creature and grind against her until it all meant nothing—open like a succulent tropical bloom to whatever this woman asked of her.

The first restless movements began within her. She couldn't lie still. She began to writhe upon the vanity, the unrelenting surface offering leverage as she arched her hips, her breathing less controlled as her eyes grew distant. The cool air brought out chills upon her still slightly moist skin, and she longed to close her eyes and bask in the building sensation—to give in to it like a sea creature caught in a whirlpool and just let it overtake every nerve.

"I'm going to insert this applicator now, and I don't want you to come. Do you understand me?" The command was spoken in a tone just above a whisper, and the blonde's eyes were full of tender sincerity as she stroked the girl's thigh.

"Oh, God ... please..." A defiant thrust of those lovely hips as the blonde held the length of translucent plastic tube in her left hand, lightly rubbing it against the girl's hungrily contracting pussy, the tip slipping easily in the copious wetness she exuded.

"If you come, I'll be forced to punish you, pet. You have to wait until I say you can come. Is that—"

A few harsh gasps, and the girl shuddered violently upon the table as the blonde plunged the douching applicator into her, dropping the cloth to squeeze the bag, emptying the contents into the maid's rapidly pulsing sex. Inwardly she was pleased by the girl's easily-satisfied body. It would work well against her tonight. But she couldn't let her pretty toy know this.