"Once you are comfortable," the woman continued, "you press the first button, the green one on the left. The wall will close around you. Don't worry, it will be quite comfortable, and it can't hurt you. The door will then open automatically. When someone enters the room and closes the door, the light in the section beyond the wall will blink to let you know they're in there with you. The next button, the yellow one, will make a red light blink in the room. Use that button if whoever is in there causes you any discomfort or pain."
"Does that happen often?" Linda asked.
"Discomfort, sometimes. Different strokes for different folks and all that, and not everyone is as skilled, or compatible, as they ideally would be. While we find that the vast majority of our visitors is quite considerate, it's always possible that you might find their attentions unpleasant. The red light triggered by that second button tells them to stop whatever they're doing and leave. Serious pain is rare, though, because of the next button. The floor of this room is actually a trapdoor. If you press that third button, the red one, the trapdoor will open and whoever is in the room will be immediately out of your hair, so to speak. Use this only as a last resort if someone ignores the red light and continues to endanger or hurt you. This is a safety feature only, and abuse will not be tolerated."
"So... Where do they go, when that button gets pressed?"
The other woman shook her head.
"You don't need to worry about that. They'll be fine, just extremely unhappy. Fortunately the trapdoor safety has been used only once during all the time we've been here, which says something good about our customer audience, I suppose."
Linda nodded slowly.
"You can stay as long as you want," the woman went on. "That's why we refer to those of our customers who choose to play the passive role as tenants. A tenant may receive a visitor, or not. There's no guarantee. But in practice it's usually only a matter of time, and generally not too much time at that, unless it's a very quiet day. After a visitor has left you may chose to wait for another one if you like. When you're ready to call it a day, press the green button on the left again. The door will close and the movable wall sections will release you. The button will only work when the room is empty. If there is someone in there with you, you'll have to wait until they leave."
Linda nodded.
"Finally," the woman said, "Once you are ready to leave the building, please follow the corridor to the far end, where you will find stairs leading to the exit. The doors at the top of the stairs via which we entered won't open for you. That prevents arriving and departing customers from walking into one another, which would of course interfere with our basic principles of total anonymity. Any questions?"
Linda thought for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
"Good. I'll leave you to it, then. I think you will enjoy this."
The woman smiled encouragingly, turned, and left via the far end of the corridor leading to the exit.
Linda took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Well, she'd come this far...
She stepped into the small room and closed the door. Looking around the room she saw things she'd missed during the nameless woman's introduction: a closet on the one side with the sort of keypad on it that one might find on a hotel room safe; a red button by the door marked "HELP", and a narrow glass shelf with a handful of small, white and unmarked cardboard boxes on it, next to a large dispenser of what looked to be wet-wipes. On the floor stood a small trash can with a lid on it, the kind of thing one might find in a bathroom.
She took one of the boxes and opened it. It contained a sealed bottle marked "Personal Lubricant." She nodded approvingly. She closed the box, put it back and opened the one next to it. Condoms, and of a top quality brand, too. The next box contained a small butt plug, made from some black, pliable material and packaged in a sealed plastic pouch marked "Sterile." It looked brand-new, and she assumed these items were all disposables. She chuckled, thinking of how many hotel guests tend to take single-use bottles of shampoo and mouthwash with them upon departure. Would they do that here? Oh, well. Another box contained a small egg-shaped capsule with a thin wire that connected it to a larger box with a sliding switch on it, all packed in another sealed sterile pouch. A vibrator, obviously. She returned the box to the shelf and opened the closet. Hooks, hangers and a small sign explaining how to lock and unlock the closet. Yep. All pretty much self-explanatory. And strangely familiar, too; all it needed was some stationery with a hotel logo on it.
Alright then. She began to take off her clothes, briefly wondering what on earth had possessed her to come here in the first place. But as she hung the garments in the closet one by one she realized that she'd already answered that question several times. She wanted this.
Then she looked at the bench, wondering what would be the best way to do this. The stirrups first? Maybe not. She stood between them at the foot of the hollow-shaped section that would support her lower chest and stomach, and decided that might be the easiest way to start. She bent down over the horizontal section and lay down on it, sticking her head and shoulders through the rectangular opening in the wall. It took a little wiggling, but soon she discovered how to put her arms and head on the supports provided on the other side of the wall with the button panel within easy reach. The material covering the bench felt cool against her naked skin.
She lifted one leg and placed it within the stirrup. Her knee slipped into the hollow designed for it, while her shin found its way into the horizontal support. Her other leg followed. She nameless woman had been right: it felt surprisingly comfortable.
She wiggled back and forth a few times, knowing that she'd be in this position for quite some time, and making sure her body was completely relaxed and properly supported everywhere. It felt alright. And of course she could always press the green button again, get out, and adjust her position. As long at there was no-one else in the room, of course...
Well, she decided, it was time. No guts, no glory. She pressed the green button.
A soft 'click' sounded from the section in the wall below her, followed by a soft humming. Slowly, very slowly, several panels began to slide inward around her. But it was strange: as soon as the first section touched her, it stopped moving. Its edge was covered in some sort of foam rubber that provided a close yet comfortable seal against her skin. Then another section of wall panel touched her, and another, until she was surrounded by them. Another few clicks, and the panels began to turn, closing themselves around her...
After no more than half a minute or so the wall had entirely enclosed her. She looked down and could see a thin glimpse of light between one of the seals and her chest, but that was about it. The wall held her in place, gently but firmly, and yet she felt entirely relaxed...
Another switch clicked somewhere, and she knew that that was probably the sign that the door behind her was swinging open now, exposing the lower part of her body to the world. Suddenly she had a vision of what she must look like: her butt facing upward; her legs slightly spread in the stirrups to expose her pussy to anyone who happened to look in through the door; her breasts hanging down in the space between the couch and the wall, free to be touched...
She must make quite a sight.
She looked around the space in which she found herself. It was a tiny room, almost, softly and pleasantly lit, filled with air at just the right temperature and... soothing, almost. It was very quiet, although there was a very faint whirring of ventilation. It wasn't exactly like sensory deprivation: she could see, she could hear her own breathing and even her heart beating (quite fast right now, as a matter of fact) and she could feel the arm rests and head support where she touched them. And yet... Somehow she felt herself relax in response to the tiny room around her, and a deep calm settled over her. It was almost as if time seemed to slow down as she lay there, utterly relaxed.
She had no idea how long it had been when the light dimmed, returned, dimmed, returned again.
Someone had entered the room behind her and closed the door.
* * *
Jim made his way up the stairs and through the glass doors at the top of it as he had been instructed, and stepped into the corridor. More brown carpet, and doors, doors, doors... Some were closed, most of them open, with darkness behind about half of them. The place was quiet, with the sort of silence you get from top-of-the-line sound proofing.
Following an impulse he walked down the corridor until he had reached the point where it ended in another pair of glass doors marked "Exit" in discreet, dark green capitals. Then he turned and looked through the door closest to the end of the corridor. The room behind it was dark, but not entirely; there was enough light to see into it. It was fairly small, and the center of the room was taken up by what looked more like a massage table than anything else. It was covered in some kind of beige artificial leather, and the far end of it stood against the wall. Above it a rectangular opening was set into the wall, its lower edge just below the surface of the table. Half of the table, the side closest to the door, consisted of two sections that apparently could be separated to form a Y-shape.
