Liar's Lair

Should I bother her with this? She's just a playful college kid. Does she really what to hear about an old fart's troubles? No way! And then again, Grace washed out my dirty boxer shorts by hand. That was an act to true kindness. No deception there. My shorts are clean. Anything within reason, she said. What do I want from her? Sex? God, she is so beautiful and the view of her labia was so hot, but no, no sex. She's too young for me. I know that and she knows that, and besides, she a bellhop, not a prostitute.

So what do I want from her? I want to talk. Would that be reasonable? Maybe not. She's paid to be a bellhop. Well, okay, maybe's she's paid a bit more to be a stunningly beautiful and sexy bellhop, but asking her to spend time to talk with me? I just don't know. I stare at my phone in the silence of the bedroom.

Five minutes after my call my heart skips a beat as she shows up at my suite, still looking as beautiful as ever. The only difference is the red scrunchie is out of her hair now. The braid is gone too, and her thick golden hair is falling loosely down her neck and shoulders. Grace sees how upset I am and she encourages me to talk, which is exactly what I need to do. We wind up sitting on my bed and talking. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed and Grace is about a body length away, sitting lotus fashion on my bed after taking her sandals off.

I tell her everything, everything that happened to me today. And then Grace starts probing, gentle questions probing me about my background and my life. For a young woman she surprises me with her adeptness. She is wise beyond her years, and her skillful questions are helping me see things about myself.

"Want some advice?" she asks at last.

"Yeah, I sure do."

"Make yourself comfortable first. Kick off your shoes and socks and get your head on a pillow."

I gladly do as she asks. It feels very calming to lie on a bed and have someone kind sitting near. My tired feet are within reaching distance of Grace but she makes no effort to touch me. She's just looking at me calmly.

"Take a few deep breaths. Try to relax. Close your eyes if you want. Just try to relax."

Again I do as she asks. The room is silent, except for the sounds of our breathing. I feel myself starting to relax, but then my body jerks and my eyes pop open.

Grace is still on my bed, watching me. "It's okay," she whispers.

I blink and look at her. "What's okay?"

"You're nervous about closing your eyes while I'm here. I understand and I forgive you. I might be a danger. I might attack you. You have to keep your guard up."

I give a big sigh and say in a whisper, "You're right. I guess deep down I'm afraid of you. I'm so sorry." I feel deeply embarrassed that I don't trust the help she is offering. I try to change the topic. "What happened to your red scrunchie?"

"Oh, you noticed, huh?" Grace shakes her head side to side playfully. Her beautiful thick golden hair flies above her shoulders. "I was just going off duty when you called."

I gulp. "I hope they're paying you overtime."

"No, I'm not being paid now."

"Oh shit, really? My gosh, Grace, you've must have been here for an hour!"

She gives a slight shrug. "I've earned my right to wear the red scrunchie. It's based on a desire to please. I can't turn off my desires when the clock says it's quitting time. David? Ready for some advice? I'd like to work through a few options with you."

"Oh yes, please, Grace."

"Okay. Choice number one, which appeals to you more? Going back to your old hotel, or staying at Liar's Lair? And for now, think of your stay here as in this suite, or maybe going down to the gym or the restaurants below for some variety for where you eat your meals. Just turn on the do-not-disturb light. Liar's Lair has strict rules about this. This Caitlyn of yours was pushing the envelope even by giving you a hand sign while your red light was on. If you want solitude, just point to the red light if someone bothers you. The liars and the real prostitutes will leave you strictly alone."

"There are real prostitutes down there?"

Grace laughs. "Oh yes, a very large number! And they'll all be very eager for your business if you turn the light off without another female present. You never walked there alone did you, on the restaurant floor?"

I think for a moment. "No. Lucia or Caitlyn was always with me. But I was alone for a while on the dance floor."

Grace just smiles at me. "Prostitutes are not allowed to solicit on the dance level. Can you imagine them shouting their prices over the music? It's a house rule. Arrangements for sex must be done discreetly."

Understanding sinks in. "Ah..."

Grace nods. "A real prostitute must carry her working papers with her when she solicits. It's the law. And do you remember telling me Caitlyn offered to show you her papers and her real name if you agreed to bed her? A real prostitute would tell you her real name immediately. David, think! Prostitution isn't a game, it's a business! If a real prostitute lied to you, both the hotel and her union would be furious! And once you revealed that you didn't know this, Caitlyn knew she had a real fish hooked on her line."

"Wow. I get it."

"So what's your first choice? Hike back across town or stay here? Think of yourself as a hermit in either location."

I look around the room and try to think objectively. "Well, this place has been frightening so far, but I think I see your point. Being a hermit here would be infinitely more comfortable. And Liar's Lair keeps my $1440 whether I leave or not."

Grace smiles. I watch her bare feet wiggle, her toes curling from her happiness. "I'm glad! This way I'll still get to see you, and I can bring your meals up here as often as you like. Would you like that? There's no extra charge for room service and the food is quite reasonable."

"Wow." I'm all smiles. "You would do that?"

"Sure! I'll try to make it personally as much as I can. Otherwise it'll be another red scrunchie bellhop. We're a great group of people. I think you'll learn to like us all."

"Yeah, okay." I give a big sigh. "Thanks, Grace. It makes a lot of sense. I'll be a hermit here."

"Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to trust me again. Close your eyes and breathe slowly. Try to relax. Think of the sound "hmm" as you breathe in and the sound "sa" as you breathe out. It's a common meditation technique. Relax and imagine that you trust me."

I do as she asks. After a short while my body jerks and my eyes bolt open.

Grace waves her hand dismissively when I try to apologize. She continues to talk to me in a very calm voice. "You have a second choice to make. You don't have to decide now, but maybe you can think about this. Do you want to remain a hermit, or do you want female companionship? And I'm talking strictly about non-lying female companionship."

I give a mirthless laugh. "I don't know how to tell the difference."

"I can help you there. When I'm on duty, I can go down with you and help you pick out a prostitute. Remember what I said before. The real prostitutes are not part of the lying game."

"Yeah, I got it. And it makes sense." I thought for a long moment. "I don't know. It's not a question of morals. When I was with Caitlyn, I thought it through and decided I was so lonely it would be okay. But I'm just so afraid of women now."

Grace looks at me sadly. "I'm not surprised. Who wouldn't be after what you've been through? Is there anything I can do to help, anything at all?"

I smile back at her. "You mean within reason, of course."

"Actually I don't. It would not be reasonable for a bellhop on duty to get sexually involved with a customer. That's the job for the prostitutes. It would cause a huge problem between our two labor unions and the hotel management would go ballistic."

"Wow. I never thought of that. Makes sense though."

"Yes it does. So remember that when I'm on duty, I'm under strict orders not to have any intentional physical contact with you or any of the other customers. Oh, I wear sexy clothes and I flirt and I get the customers in the mood for sex..." Grace pauses and looks down at her own crotch. "These hot pants! It took me half the summer to get used to them! What do you men call it?"

"Err, uh... What do you mean?" I try to pretend ignorance.

"The slang phrase for a girl wearing clothes so tight that it shows the shape of her vulva."

"Oh. Uh..." I finally whisper, "Camel toe."

"Yes, that's it." Grace stares another moment at her crotch and giggles with disbelief. "Do men really think a vulva looks like the toe of a camel?" And then she tilts her head back and takes a deep sigh and tries to be serious. "Don't get me wrong, David. I really liked you from the beginning. I'm happy if you want to look at me. But my first week here really shook me up."

"Grace, why do you work here?"

"Oh, I started off with a very simple answer to that. Money! I am completely on my own and I'll be back in college in another month. My nine weeks working here will completely erase my student debt and give me enough cash to stay out of debt until next summer. The pay here is fabulous!"

I nod my understanding but then remember her words in more detail. "Money was just the initial reason?"

Grace nods. "Yeah. About three weeks ago I earned my right to wear the red scrunchie. This place has changed me, Dave. I really enjoy my work now, all of it, maybe even especially the sexy parts of it. This place has changed me a lot."

"Hmm? How so?"

Grace doesn't answer my question directly. "I wish you would have asked me to find you a prostitute when we first met. That's normally what I do for men checking into Liar's Lair for the first time. I wear sexy clothing to get the men in the mood for sex, and then it's the prostitutes who service those moods. Do you see how the system works?"

"Grace! Why didn't you tell me this before?!"

"Dave, you never asked! I kept asking if you needed anything or had any questions. Giving you advice would be reasonable while on duty. But I can't pester you with advice if you don't ask for it!"

I lie still and think for a moment. "Yes, you're perfectly correct."

Her cute toes curl again. "Dave, is there anything I can do for you now?"

"Within reason?"

She gives a slow deep sigh. "Didn't we already go over this? I'm off duty. I'm not asking as your bellhop. I'm asking as one human to another. And when I'm off duty, I can have any relationship I want with people. Here, try again. Close your eyes and try to trust me."

I try. My eyes are closed and I work on my breathing. I think of Grace's presence on the bed with me and I try to see that as a good thing. I have a loving human being who is guarding over me. It seems to be working. And then my body jerks as if shocked with high voltage. I feel so ashamed of myself.

Grace gets up off the bed without a word walks to the night table and gets her small red purse. My breath catches in my throat and I feel dismayed. She's giving up on me and is leaving, and I absolutely can't blame her.

But she's not leaving. She comes back and sits on my bed again, and this time much closer to the pillows and my head. She opens her purse and pulls out a number of cards. She positions the first one for me to read. "This is my employee smartcard. It gives me access to all public and residential areas in Tower One."

"Just Tower One?"

Grace nods. "Tower Two is called The Dungeon. It's very unusual, residential and recreational facilities integrated into a single complex. It's a place for clients with, shall we say unique sexual appetites. I don't want to get near that place, and with my work profile there's no reason why I should. Anyway, that's not why I'm showing you this. Read my name on my work-ID."

"Grace C. Ender," I reply.

"Correct! Next card!" She shows me her driver's license, all sorts of high tech security features, extremely difficult to counterfeit and multi-year jail time if you try. This is the real deal. "Grace Charlotte Ender," I read again.

"Not just my name, David. Read and remember my birth date too. Do you remember I told you I was twenty? Do you see I'm twenty years and a few days shy of seven months? Do you see how easy it'll be to remember my birthday?"

"Yeah, sure. Merry Christmas!"

Grace laughed. "Yes! When I was a little girl I hated having that as my birthday. All the other kids got two present-days a year and I only got one. Anyway, next card!"

"Grace Charlotte Ender," I read again. It's her Government ID card. "Why are you carrying that around?"

Grace sighed. "You're right. I probably shouldn't. I needed the card for Liar's Lair payroll when I started my summer job and it never made it out of my purse. David, read and remember my social security number. Make a rhyme of it or something. When you're done, tell me and I'll put my card away and then I want you to recite my number. In another ten minutes I'll ask again, so really remember it."

I sigh deeply and concentrate. "Got it."

Grace nods and returns the cards to her purse. "Okay, let's hear it."

I repeat the number correctly.

Grace nods and moves a little closer to me. I could move and touch her bare foot if I move my arm a little but I don't. Grace looks down on me from her lotus position and says, "Try again to trust me. Think about how I'm trusting you. You've got my full name and my birthday and my social. You could own my identity if you want to. I've made myself vulnerable to you. I'm trusting that you won't hurt me. Try to reciprocate."

I nod and sigh deeply. She is making such an effort to help me. I am filled with admiration and gratitude for what she's trying to do. I close my eyes and begin breathing normally. A few seconds later my body jerks violently. I'm almost in tears. "Oh, this is hopeless!" I cry.

"David! Do you want to give up? Do you want me to give up? Search your feelings! I'm a college undergrad majoring in mechanical engineering! I'm not a psychiatrist! I think what I'm doing is okay, but I'm just using my common sense. If you want me to go, I'll go. I don't want..." Grace struggles with her words and doesn't complete the thought.

"Grace Charlotte Ender," I whisper. "Please stay."

"I will stay," she replies in just as quiet a whisper. "I'll stay the whole night if you need me. Even longer if you still want me. Tomorrow is my day off."

"You would do that? You would do that for me? Why?"

"My gosh, David. There's only one true answer to that. I'm just hoping you'll see that I'm trying to help you." She pauses and asks, "Just before you jerk, what's it like? What are you afraid of? Do you think I'm going to bite you or something?"

I lie back into my pillow and try to think and give Grace an honest answer. "Yeah, something like that, something horrible, not bite though. I get these crazy images, like a flashback from something horrible, incredibly scary, really nightmarish. They must be memories of dreams, they must be."

"Wow," she whispers. "Sounds like really scary stuff."

"Oh it is. My whole body jerks. It's a panic reaction. I'm about to be... not bitten but consumed. No, that's not right either. Closer but still not right, something even more horrible. And it's so vivid, like reality, not like a dream! It's as if I'm being electrocuted from the center of my body!"

"My gosh. That's really horrible imagery."

I nod. "And it's only there in a flash, as if my mind can't stand the horror and rejects the memory. I jerk and the memory is gone."

"Wow..." She stares at me thoughtfully for a long moment. "I wish I knew..." Another long pause, and then her next question catches me completely by surprise. "David, are you ticklish?"

"What? Uh, no, not particularly."

"How about your feet?"

"Uh..." I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going. "I don't know. Maybe a little, probably below the average person."

"Great! Just give me a minute, I'll be right back!" Grace springs off my bed and walks rapidly into my bathroom. I hear some rattling, and a moment later she returns with something that looks like a thick mop of long straight hair attached to a short pole. Grace hops onto my bed again, this time near my feet.

"What is that thing?" I ask. "A duster?"

Grace gives me a very knowing grin. "Something much nicer! This is one of your bathroom toys, one of my favorites. If you want to amuse yourself sometime, check out your closet by the Jacuzzi."

"Oh. Is that my adult toy closet?" I can't help but grin sheepishly. "Is it really as extensive as I think it might be?"

"Oh yeah!" Grace laughs. "If you have a fetish for lubrications and vibrators and butt plugs, you'll find everything in there from tiny pencil sizes to something so obscene I can't imagine inserting it into a full grown mare! Nothing for inflicting pain though. That's not the theme for Tower One. You get the idea?"

I nod and try to match her laughter by raising my eyebrows playfully.

Grace reciprocates the gesture and places the strange duster near my feet. "I'd like to try petting you with this. My roommate and I have tried this out for fun and it feels really nice."

I grin playfully. "Another bellhop?"

"No. She's a prostitute."

I blink. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what? My roommate? David, her name is Aria and we get along very well." Grace gives me a curious look. "And in case you're wondering, we're both firmly heterosexual. We were just experimenting, that's all."

I shift uncomfortably. "I really spoke out of line. I was just surprised the hotel had a college-age bellhop rooming with a prostitute. Isn't it awkward when she brings someone in?"

Grace laughs. "David! Prostitutes don't bring their clients to their living quarters! They either go the man's room or to special rooms called playpens. You get the idea? And David, you have to work on your prejudices! Prostitution is a socially acceptable profession here. Yes, I am being exposed to Aria's perspectives, but her lifestyle is not corrupting me. Do you understand?" I nod meekly.

Grace sighs and takes a big stretch with her arms, rocking her wrists with the strange duster and placing the hair very near my bare feet. "Ready?"

I feel a sense of panic but I nod. Grace starts to stroke the duster lightly up and down the tops and bottoms of my feet. "Just keep your eyes open. I think that will make this easier for you. Do you like this, David?"

"Hmm?" The foot caresses feel fantastic, and I have an overpowering urge to relax and enjoy what Grace is doing. Finally! Someone is actually petting me! This is the real deal, I tell myself firmly. No liars here. Grace finishes off with stroking the soft hair around my feet and through my toes. It feels super silky and nice. I sigh deeply, my eyes wide open. I am finding peace. Should I try to close my eyes again? Before I can ask, Grace ends her caressing. I give an involuntary groan.

"Oh, we're not finished," Grace replies when she hears my groan. "Far from it. It's just your turn to pet me for a while!" And so saying, she tosses the duster on my chest and lies flat on her back on my bed, arms loosely at her sides, her feet near my head.

I look at her in kindness. "Grace, aren't I a little too old for you?"

"No," she whispers as she wiggles her feet playfully. "Pet me with the duster."

"Grace, I don't want to hurt you."

"David, this won't hurt me. I'm not asking for commitment. I'm asking if we can come together as two human beings who trust each other and want to pet each other. Search your feelings. Do you want to trust me? Do you want to pet me?"

I sit up and grin. Her cheerfulness and goodness are so contagious. "Pet your feet, huh?"

"Uh huh. I like having my legs petted too." Grace laughs. "Actually, I love the duster! I think it's my all-time favorite toy. I'm really going to enjoy this!"