Ha-banquet

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"The Hotel Anthology"

a series of short stories by Robin Roberts


My Hotel Room • "Furniture" • My Massage • Room Service • The Banquet Room • Room Service 2 • In The Hallway • The Laundry room • The Garage


(Also see The EMF Trust)


The Banquet Room
by Robin Roberts

I was on my way to the first-floor restaurant, strolling along the wide, carpeted hallway when I walked into one of the Banquet Rooms by accident. It was by most hotel standards, cavernous: about thirty feet wide by sixty feet long and a ceiling that was at least twenty-five feet high. Along the far wall, there was floor to ceiling windows which had sheer white curtains in front of the glass and drapes held back by decorative braid on the sides of each window.

There was a twelve-foot deep stage, about eighteen inches high, running along the short wall of the room nearest the door. On the stage, there were two tables with two chairs each. Seated at each table was a formally attired lady with a scantily clad female kneeling on the beside her. They were sitting on their ankles, hands were in their laps, palms up and heads bowed.

Also on stage was a piece of furniture shaped like a desk with a vertical beam bolted on one end with a horizontal beam across its top. Attached to this "T" was a red-haired female, nude to the waist, her wrists bound to each end of the horizontal beam. Behind her was another lady dressed in a leather catsuit whipping and talking to the restrained female.

There were about twenty or so pillars spaced about fifteen feet apart, apparently supporting the ceiling. Several of the columns had a female attached; their wrists bound together and tied above their heads. They were, for the most part, nude above the waist. Their bodies were stretched, standing on tiptoe, hands and fingers reaching for the ceiling.

I took a deep breath and was about to continue walking down the hall when the lady on stage seated closest to the door gestured quietly to her companion. The scantily-clad female stood and approached me. She took my hand and began pulling toward the back of the room. She suggested that I sit in a chair next to another lady, and then she returned to take up her position on the stage. The female seated next to me spoke in a low tone, "Are you a guest of our hotel?"

When I answered in the affirmative, she requested my room number. She used her smartphone to send a message and awaited the reply. She asked to speak to me in private, and we left the banquet room via a door at the rear of the auditorium. She informed me that, although these training/punishment sessions were open to both guests and staff, it is best to reserve a seat with the concierge.

She then asked if I would like to attend this afternoon's session. When I said yes, she said I should take a seat in any of the sixty or so chairs set up facing the stage. "If you have questions or suggestions, just raise your hand."

She returned to her seat; I took one of the twenty or so vacant spectator chairs. The cat-suited lady was still whipping the bound redhead. After a few minutes, I figured out the cause of the whipping was that the red-head (named Carly) had apparently not laid out the clothes that her Mistress had ordered. The flogging, although not severe, was being felt. Her skin was reddened but had no cuts upon it. With each blow, her arm and back muscles contracted, and she took a deep breath. Through it all, she was stoic and quiet.

After what I thought to be about ten minutes, the whipping stopped, and Carly was left to hang in her restraints. The two submissives from the stage, through hand signals, had been ordered to care for Carly. They used wet towels applied to her back, and then some cream or salve. They unbuckled the restraints around her wrists, gently lowered her to the floor, gave her a bottle of something to drink.

After a very short time, Carly crawled to her Mistress’ and began kissing her feet. I could not tell what she was saying, but it was clear that a lot of "I am sorry" and "I will do better" pleas were being said, and the two of them left the stage.

The lady seated at the right-hand table (who identified herself as Mistress Joanne), asked the audience if there was any other business before the board today. The audience was silent – apparently, I had joined this meeting almost at the end. She recognized that I had joined late and asked if I had any questions. I signaled that I had none. She asked if I was staying at the hotel as a guest, this time I answered, "Yes." She asked if all of the Staff had been polite to me, had provided prompt and efficient service. Again, I gave a positive response. She told me that these sessions were held every Wednesday afternoon at 3 pm and that if any of the staff did not meet my expectations, I should discipline them immediately, and report the infraction to the Concierge. If I were still a guest the following Wednesday, the hotel administration would send me an invitation to that week's training/punishment session. I should plan to attend and even participate in the training session.

She announced that this week’s session was now concluded, but suggested that I might wish to stick around and chat with the other folk in attendance.

The formal part of the meeting seemed to be at an end. Mistress Joanne engaged me and asked my name and room number. "Ah, yes, you have requested that Stephanie attends you again tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma’am," I reply.

"She must have performed admirably, then." Again, affirmation on my part. "She has reported to me that she enjoyed herself, as well."

She claps her hand twice, and everyone in the room looks her way. She points at "a shape" on the far side of the room and then at the floor beside her, indicating it should approach her.

It stood in front of Mistress Joanne with head bowed. The shape appeared like something right out of the Middle East. She was wearing a full-length gown, head scarf, and sandals. Mistress Joanne indicated the form should kneel at her feet. She reached for the head scarf, and the form pressed her palms together in a sign of pleading. Mistress Joanne simply used the index finger of her right hand to lift the head so she could look into her eyes and quietly shook her head from side to side. Again the form begged in silence.

Mistress Joanne took hold of the end of the head scarf and began to remove it. The form hung her head in submission and stared at the floor as the scarf was removed. Mistress Joanne again used her index finger to turn the face toward her. The beautiful eyes finally looked up, and I recognized the face of Stephanie above a gag.

"You should whip her occasionally. It reminds her of her station and keeps her from getting lazy. She enjoys a firm hand," she says and indicates that Stephanie should stand. She is then ordered to approach the nearest column and place her hands above her head. Stephanie tilts her head back and gazes at the ceiling. Mistress Joanne suggests that I should lift the bottom of Stephanie's gown and show everyone her beautiful ass. Stephanie turns her head and looks at the Mistress, begging a reprieve from the impending embarrassment. I take turns looking at each of them, not knowing what to do.

I tell Mistress Joanne that I usually prefer to do my discipline sessions in private and she says she understands. "I have special plans for your next meeting with Stephanie. She is quite embarrassed right now, Sir. She is what you call air tight: she has a gag, vaginal and anal plugs." Stephanie drops her head and looks at the floor, totally defeated.

Mistress Joanne asks if Stephanie has anything to say, to either of us and she nods her head in the affirmative.

With her gag removed, Stephanie expresses her thanks to us for her reprieve. She signals Mistress Joanne to ask if she may break position and is told yes.

Stephanie approaches me, drops to elbows and knees and crawls to me. She places her arms around my ankles, kissing my feet and says, "I had a most exquisite afternoon. I look forward to serving you tomorrow, Master, in any way you might so desire."



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