Lagarde's Hotel & Spa is a brothel in Putaville, the capital of Povera. You can find out more about it by reading
Mollie Buys a Brothel
, by JimGrinsted. But that's not necessary. This tale can be read on its own.
*****
Salvatore, an engineer from Milan, finished the second day of his five day vacation at Lagarde's Hotel & Spa in Putaville. He'd already fucked six girls, cum in the mouths of three others, and groped, fondled and stripped even more.
Great fun.
But now he was in his room by himself, unsatisfied. Yeah, he could fuck his way through the hostesses - nothing wrong with that. But he wanted more. He wanted to really humiliate somebody.
Humiliation? That meant embarrassment, degradation, wanting to fall through a hole in the floor. If Sal had his way, a hole the size of a meteor crater wouldn't swallow her shame.
They say that psychopaths don't care about other people's feelings. Sal - definitely not a psychopath - cared deeply about his victim's feelings. He wanted her to be painfully self-conscious and totally out of her comfort zone. She'd have a very bad day.
So this is a problem. It's pretty hard to properly humiliate somebody in a brothel. There are rules that prevent physical abuse or rape or stuff. Sal could live with that - part of the challenge was to play by the rules of the game. Physical pain made it too easy. He was smarter than that.
The bigger problem was the that hostesses have seen it all - they're not easily humiliated. They've already been stripped, fucked and bonked a thousand times. There was nothing he could do to one of those girls that'd cause anything more than a slight blush.
But Lagarde's rules promised that any member of the female staff was available for an additional fee. That meant maids, cleaning ladies, food service people, receptionists, etc. Hell, even the manager was for sale - Elizabeth, older than any of the hostesses, held her own in the looks department. He might buy her out anyway, just for the fuck.
But she wasn't a good victim. She dated guests for cash a couple times a week already - he'd already seen her naked with another guy. She'd probably been a hooker in her younger years. Humiliating her was nigh impossible.
No - he'd have to find a victim from staff who had never been bought out, at least not for a long time. They'd probably not work directly with guests, but do more back room kinds of stuff - maybe in the kitchen or the laundry room. Unlike Elizabeth or the maid who cleaned his room, they wouldn't flirt.
The downside is they'd be older and less attractive. No matter - he didn't need to screw his victim except to embarrass her. There were plenty of other screwable ladies around.
Typical of an engineer, Sal embarked on his new project systematically. He planned out exactly how he was going to accomplish this task: imposing maximum humiliation on his victim without breaking any of the house rules, and getting it done in the next three days. He divided the job into a series of steps along with a process by which to accomplish each of them.
Then he took a sleeping pill to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow would be a busy day.
The first task was to find a victim. This had to be surreptitious - she couldn't know until the last minute that she'd been chosen. He set about scouring the hotel for possibilities. For cover he engaged a hostess and paraded her naked. Then he had to march as close to the red line as possible, looking for staff who didn't interact much with customers. (Guests are not allowed to cross the red line. It marks off employee-only spaces.)
Initially he checked out the restaurants. The waitresses were just whores in disguise - not good victims. The main kitchens were on a different floor behind the red line, so he'd never see those employees. They wouldn't be available anyway. Still, there were serving and staging areas. The women who worked there were visible to customers, but didn't really interact with them. They made no effort to flirt. They weren't prostitutes, and a couple of them were cute enough.
But house rules forbade nudity in restaurants. That would crimp his style, so Sal decided to find an employee outside food service.
The hostesses left clothes all over the place, where ever a guest told them to strip. These garments were collected by housekeepers who, if the clothes were clean, hung them up on racks for hostesses to use when they got dressed again. If they were soiled, they got put in a wheeled hamper destined for the laundry room. Clean clothes came back from laundry to be placed on the racks.
Like the waitresses, the maids all fucked for money on the side - no good victims there. But there were two or three ladies who shuttled hampers and clean clothes from the guest floors to the laundry room and back. They actually spent most of their time in the laundry room - interaction with guests was minimal. They didn't flirt.
Sal identified the prettiest woman of the bunch. She was older (maybe fifty), fatter, and had obviously been through multiple pregnancies. But she had nice features, smaller and seemingly firmer tits, and clear skin. The lady wore a brown, calf-length, one-piece, grandma-dress that covered her body like a tent, with sleeves to the elbow. She walked in flip-flops, with no stockings. Sal thought he'd found a good victim.
The victim-to-be wore a nametag. A good sign, thought Sal, since that meant she was nominally for sale. Now if only he could get close enough to her to read her name without raising suspicion, that would help.
So Sal spent all afternoon following his potential victim around. This was not so easy. She spent much of her time beyond the red line, where he couldn't follow. She moved mostly on the freight elevator - he couldn't follow her there, either. He did eventually get close enough to her to read her nametag:
Mballou.
He returned to his room, fucked his naked hostess, and then traded her off for someone else so that she wouldn't get suspicious.
Since Sal couldn't follow Mballou around, instead he decided to learn how laundry logistics worked at Lagarde's.
A lot of washing was generated from the guest rooms on the 9th and 10th floors. But it all happened once a day, after the maids had cleaned all the rooms. There was heavy traffic for an hour or so in the afternoon, but after that Mballou didn't spend much time in guest areas.
On most of the other floors he noticed that laundry was switched out every hour or so. From the restaurants it was napkins and table cloths. He saw Mballou bringing a fresh supply up just before dinner. She arranged the stash in a small staging area, and changed out the hamper taking the dirty stuff away with her. She didn't flirt with anybody.
By seeing how full the hampers were, Sal could estimate how often they were changed out. For most floors it looked to be roughly every hour - mostly with hostesses' dirty dresses. Mballou and her colleague (the less attractive Djina, though she'd do as a victim in a pinch) each took responsibility for half the floors. Mballou handled the lobby, nightclub, and restaurant floors, while Djina worked the fitness center and the girl's dormitory. They shared the others as needed.
The girls' dormitory on the second floor was the biggest generator of dirty clothes. The sheets had to be changed and laundered two or three times a day. There were towels for the showers, and clean underwear for the hostesses. The task was big enough that they'd set aside a room, adjacent to the freight elevator, as a staging area. For whatever reason - probably oversight - it was not red-lined out. Sal walked around just to see how it all worked.
The freight elevator opened up onto a foyer. Turn right and you faced the door to this staging room. Turn left and you headed down the hallway to the girls' showers, toilets, and sleeping rooms (all also available to guests - see
Mollie Buys a Brothel
for a description of the rules). Across the foyer, facing the elevator bank, was a bench, probably put there for decoration.
After finishing with the second floor, Sal hung out in the fifth floor lobby and watched the laundry hamper. He timed how often Mballou came to empty it. He found he could predict her arrival to within about ten minutes.
