Lodged (MMM/F)

[lanadelgagged]

Behind the dark rims of a pair of glasses, Robbi Wren fixes her gaze on the small road ahead. The arid desert surrounding the vehicle almost matches the colour of her hair as the sun sets on the horizon. As the car makes its way through the corners, it leaves a fine trail of sand that fades with the distance. At the end of said road, a series of small wooden lodges surround a rocky mountain’s slope. Neatly arranged and similar in shape and size, except for one of them. Significantly bigger in size and with a Hotel sign, already lit by green neons.


The complex extends beyond the skirt of the mountain, at first glance one can make out the building is at least four stories high. Quite the unusual sight given how remotely its located, but Robbi can only imagine the kind of views her room may have. Her excitement grows as she parks the car in front of the hotel, and is quickly greeted by the valet. The star treatment that marks the beginning of her much deserved vacation. Robbi is more than happy to engage in small talk with the clerk, as she hands the car keys and makes her way inside the reception. An impressively large hall marks the path to the reception, clad in golden railings and reminiscent of the Art-Deco interiors of New York City.


With plenty of golden sunlight coming from the desert the entrance appears the more majestic, an enthralled Robbi is still oblivious to the fact that she has left her luggage and camera equipment on the car. She is even oblivious to the guests that are hanging around the cocktail bar next to the reception. Everybody there appears to be informally dressed, and visibly sunburnt, except for a small group of gentlemen. Dressed as sharp a razor, nothing seems to distract the men from their cocktail glasses. However as the young photographer steps closer to the check-in desk, one of the men point to her and the others look discreetly. The slight gesture goes unnoticed, as Robbi is relieved to find her belongings carried in a trolley by one of the clerks.


– “Good afternoon Ms. Wren, and welcome to the Cresthill Resort. We hope you find the complex a peaceful and pleasant getaway for your vacation”



With a soothing male voice, the hotel receptionist states the details of the reservation. Non-smoking room, with a view of the astonishing desert valley. The hotel receptionist takes out a map of the building and explains where her room is, as well the other facilities like the pool or the hotel gym. Not like Robbi intends to spend the day on the gym, or poolside, but in her usual politeness she listens attentively to the young man. She quickly calculates that he must be in his late twenties, much like herself. The receptionist turns around and reaches for a pair of magnetic keys in the back.


–“Room 302, just take the elevator to the third floor and your room should be to the right. At the end of the corridor”



As she is handed the keys, the clerk picks up her luggage and accompanies the photographer to her room. The elevator doors open, the natural sunlight is now replaced by a much warmer set of lights in the ceiling. Robbi opens the door with the 302 sign, written in a bold handwritten style. A spacious stance reveals before her eyes, the glass panes overlooking the valley garners all of the attention. The room is decorated as a cozy lodge, wooden textures predominate the walls and the floor. Doused in varnish, sunlight reflects off every wooden surface reaching every corner and crevice of the interior. The bathroom bears a more modern sober design that provides a stark contrast to the rest of the room. Keen to make a more thorough examination of the room, Robbi turns to the clerk and hands him a $5 bill.



Robbi removes her shoes and makes herself comfortable as she takes to the laborious task of unpacking her bags. She begins by arranging her camera equipment neatly on the desk, right next to the CRT television. For the occasion, the young Robbi has brought an assortment of camera lenses, tripods and even a small disposable camera. Wherever she may go, vacations or not, Robbi is always seeking new photo sets for her social media. It is her love for photography that brought her to such a remote location in the first place, exploring new paths is an inherent part of the trade for her. Robbi then focuses her efforts on putting her suitcase on the bed, but all of the sudden a knocking on the door interrupts her.
Behind the door, the same soft-spoken hotel receptionist greets her once again, with the clerk besides him:


– “I do apologise for the inconvenience, but I’m afraid that we have wrongfully designated you to a smoking room. However a guest has offered to swap rooms with you, would that be okay?”


– “Don’t let it bother you, it’s perfectly okay.” – Robbie responded trying to reassure the receptionist. She felt identified with the young man as she too tends to make mistakes at her job. In her natural attitude, she wasn’t gonna let this slip-up spoil what otherwise promises to be a thrilling experience.


–“Oh, thank you so much Ms. Wren. Once again I’d like to profusely apologise on behalf of the staff, my colleague here will help you carry your bags to Room 313.”



The receptionist seemed relieved, and so the clerk and him aided Robbi in carrying her luggage. For the young photographer, this was far from a huge deal. When the doors to her new room opened she quickly realized that the layout was identical, and so were the views. Much like before, she arranged her optics and lenses on the desk and turned to unpacking her suitcase. It was not gonna be a long stay, but she could not help but pack more things than she really needed. Apart from her usual sport attire and hiker boots, she had also taken the liberty to pack in some more formal wear for the hotel dinners. From the photographs in the hotel’s webpage, the restaurant was unlike any other in terms of style and elegance.
After she had arranged her belongings in the room, Robbi took to the task of selecting an outfit for the restaurant. After the lengthy road trip, Robbi was tired and craving a warm plate of food. Meanwhile, on the hotel bar, the three henchmen began discussing in a soft mumble. By this stage they had swallowed the contents of their cocktail glasses, as they made their way into the restaurant. Each one sat on a different place inside the dining room, however close enough to hold eye contact.






LATER THAT EVENING...






The young photographer’s eyes fix upon her reflection on the mirror, carefully inspecting her every trace of makeup, eyeliner and mascara. Areas where excess makeup has been applied are quickly wiped off with a makeup removing towel, until Robbi is satisfied with her own work. She carefully places her contact lenses, which takes her a while as she hasn’t yet grown accustomed to not wearing her glasses. Her attention now turns to her majestic pale pink gown, made of Italian satin. The garment she picked for the evening is a sleeveless, floor- length gown with fitted bodice embellished at the back with distinctive cut-out décolleté, the skirt slightly gathered at the waist and slit to the thigh on one side. Accompanied by a pair of caller matching elbow-length gloves, the dress could easily belong in the wardrobe of a 1950’s film star. As she spins around the bodice reveals itself to be slightly open at the back with a neckline that leaves uncovered shoulders. It perfectly caters to the dimensions of the young photographer, giving the impression that it may have been tailored or made to fit her very distinctive body shape. With its undeniable charm, such gown is her choice for special occasions and thus tonight is no different. After looking at her attire once again in the mirror, Robbi wastes no time grabbing her purse with the room key inside, and puts on her black kitten heels.



The elevator doors open, as she makes her way down the atrium the sound of smooth- jazz playing in the background becomes the more ominous. After sunset, the carefully arranged lightning inside the hotel’s reception show its true magic.



–“Good evening Madam, may I please have your name and your room number” – The maître d'hôtel greets her with a candid smile and a soft-spoken voice.


–“That would be Robbi Wren, spelled with two B’s. Room number 313.”


–“Thank you very much Madam, we hope you find dinner of your utmost enjoyment. Please follow the server, he’ll show you to your table.”



And thus with a clear view of the entire restaurant, Robbi sat down and made herself comfortable at the dinner table. Draped in white cloth with minimal embroidery, the table reminded her of a cruise ship she had been invited to not long ago. Out of her sight, one of the henchmen sat across the restaurant floor carefully placed his table napkin on the empty plate, and made his way to the elevators. This would go unnoticed to the unsuspecting eyes of the photographer, however the remaining henchmen understood the message. Robbi could not remember off the top of her head when was the last time she treated herself to a fancy dinner, but there she was. The three course menu would leave her absolutely satisfied, despite the fact that she could not even pronounce the name of the main course. The Hotel staff were kind enough to invite her to a couple of bottles of wine, she would finish one and take the other to her room. For moments Robbi felt like she was in a movie, ravishing and being treated to the luxuries of haute cuisine. And make no mistake, her attire had drawn plenty of attention towards her person.


With a full stomach and a bottle of white wine, Robbi reached for the room key inside her purse. As much as she had enjoyed the evening, she could not stand wearing those kitten heels anymore. She kicked them to the floor, finding their resting place besides the bed. The reported opened the minibar to put the barely-fitting wine bottle inside and turned the television on. Night had now completely fallen and the warmth of the desert sands had given way to an almost extraterrestrial landscape. The views from the room were remarkable, thanks to the lack of light pollution the stars were shining bright. Inside the room, only the bathroom lights cut through the darkness. Robbi would then turn on the CRT Television, which emitted a blue glow against her face. After the static, a clear picture emerged: a rerun of the last NBA game between Utah Jazz and Boston Celtics. The photographer had little to no interest in sports, but she wanted some background noise as she took on the laborious task of removing her makeup.



First she removed her opera gloves, which may not have been the wisest choice given the heat. Then she carefully removed her pink gown and placed it gently over the bed, taking care as not to wrinkle it or put any creases. She put on a short baseball shirt, filling the role of a pajama in the summer months, and with only that and her panties Robbi went to her bathroom to have her makeup removed. With half a bottle of micellar water and wet wipes, the photographer stood in front of the mirror. It was right at this moment that the photographer’s ritual was interrupted by a few loud knocks on the door:


– “Room service!” – A deep but lively voice emerged from the other side.


This was unusual, it made little to no sense for the photographer. Not only had she not asked for room service but she also just had dinner in the restaurant. Robbi thought to herself and quickly figured that it must be some sort of mistake. The photographer left the bathroom and walked the couple of steps towards the door. After putting her glasses on, she looked through the peephole to see a rather stout man dressed in the hotel staff attire with a cart covered in a white cloth similar to that of the restaurant. She opened the door, before Robbi could even explain the situation the Hotel employee made his way inside with the food cart. As he makes his way inside the heavy cart rattles, making all sorts of noises. The employee looks around the dimly lit room, he inspects the bed and the tables. He appears to pay a lot of attention to Robbi’s camera equipment arranged next to the television, all sorts of lenses and accessories, films, and even a distinctively large tripod. Robbi tries to explain that there may have been a mistake:


– “Excuse me sir, but I’m afraid I didn’t order Room Service for tonight. Must be some sort of mistake”


– “This is Room 313 right?” – The Hotel employee inquired, stopping the cart right in front of the bathroom.


–“Yeah that’s the right number, but as I said I didn’t order room service. In fact I’ve just had dinner!”


– “Is that so...” – The hotel employee’s tone suddenly changed, his voice got deeper.


With a quick flick, the stocky man reached for the door, closing it and locking it shut. All of the sudden, two men emerged from inside the food trolley, sending Robbi into a state of seismic shock, panic and confusion.


“Wait a minute, what the hell’s going on in here... wha—“



It soon dawned on her that the “hotel employee” was in reality one of the henchmen that only hours ago were waiting in the atrium. As the large thug secured the door behind her, the remaining two turned to apprehend the young photographer. Instinctively, Robbi went

inside the bathroom to try and run away from the miscreants, however this would only end up in the photographer cornering herself. As one of the men yelled “Get the bitch” both henchmen lounged towards the cornered photographer, this prompted Robbi to start screaming off the top of her lungs as to grab the attention to herself. In a sudden motion, one of the miscreants grabbed Robbi from behind, tackling her but not managing to get her on the floor.


“HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE. I’M BEING ASSAULT— “



As soon as the more rotund of the henchmen grabbed hold of Robbi, he put a firm grip over the photographer’s mouth promptly subduing any efforts of screaming. Her pleading cries had been blurred into a symphony of incoherent ramble. Robbi focused her efforts in flailing her arms in the air, in an attempt to destabilize her captors. As the other henchmen came closer to her, Robbi would kick her bare feet in the air with all her strength. The young photographer had proven to be more of a liability than the men were expecting, however by this stage Robbi is far from being in control of the situation. Her struggles weren’t enough to stop the captors, and their intensity had only caused her to drop her glasses to the bathroom floor. As the photographer kept kicking in the air, the henchman managed to grab one of her ankles, then the other one, pinning them together firmly and thus putting an end to Robbi’s incessant struggle. This was accompanied by the prompt actions of one of the thugs, who took out a roll of silver duct tape and approached the helpless woman. The captors act with urgency as not to alert any of the hotel guests, any unwanted attention could throw the plan overboard.



Robbi heard the recognizable screeching sound of the tape unrolling, and she was perfectly aware of what was about to happen. Much like before, the photographer felt the firm embrace of the henchman’s hand, this time accompanied by a strip of tape that would seal her lips shut. The henchman started wrapping the tape around her head, with every turn making her gag the more secure, and blurring the imprint of Robbi’s lips against the silver tape. It took the boss a few turns for him to be satisfied, and visibly the gag had turned out to be quite massive to his standards. Thus Robbi lay silenced and helpless at the mercy of her captors, with the uncertainty of their intentions still in the air. The flailing of her arms were now rendered useless as well, as Robbi felt her body being hoisted and transported from the bathroom. The photographer’s audacity and struggles were starting to wear out the henchmen’s patience, soon they would be left no choice but to put an end to her efforts. And thus from inside the food cart, bundles and coils of white rope emerged. Robbi was violently shoved from the embrace of the captors into the bed, where she lay face up only illuminated by the blue glow of the television screen. The stocky man grabbed one of the coils of rope and jumped into the bed alongside Robbi. In a sudden motion, the photographer was now face down, and the henchman grabbed her wrists behind her back. It is at this moment that Robbi would turn from defiant to a pleading mess. She felt her wrists being firmly pressed and pinned against one another, followed by the embrace of ropes cinching them closer together.



The sound of the ropes unwinding was almost imperceptible, one last tug on the rope and Robbi’s wrists were bound beyond escape. The two remaining henchmen just stood staring, only jumping into action to provide their boss with as much binding material as needed. The photographer, still pinned against the bed, tested the strength of the bonds. They were snug, too snug for comfort perhaps, this was a discouraging find. But her ordeal was far from over, as the mob would take no chances with the lady. As another coil of rope was tossed to the boss, he started by pulling Robbi’s elbows together. The photographer’s arms turned out to be more flexible than the henchman would anticipate, however this did not make the strain of her position any more bearable. In fact even without the ropes, Robbi’s arms started to ache in response. This was only made worse when the boss started coiling the ropes around her elbows, over and under, cinching them together with every turn and coming to an end by knotting the white ropes between the arms. The young photographer would not even respond by struggling, as she knew every single motion of her arms would send her limbs into a sharp pain. The strain was starting to take a toll on Robbi’s stamina and her eagerness to break free, and she knew there was lots still to come. Grabbing hold of another coil of rope, the lead henchman started feeding it under the photographer’s bosom, taking a few turns and then starting to secure it over her breasts. The effect it created was twofold: first it accentuated the figure of Robbi’s bust by means of pressing her shirt against her breasts, and secondly it pressed the photographer’s already bound arms flush against her back, heightening the strain and taking up the slack. By this stage it had only taken a few bundles of rope to secure the photographer’s upper body, and quite tightly for that matter as Robbi could not move an inch.



The now made helpless photographer could not understand the intentions of her captors, nor did she find any justification as to why they would bind her so tightly. This was by no means the first time she had been subjected to such a treatment, but why so tight? Did she pose any threat to her captors? Why the unprecedented eagerness to keep her quiet? As she lay face down, with her cheeks pressed against the bedsheets and her arms trussed almost irreversibly, Robbi would start to realize there was no easy way out of her ever growing predicament. Even if she were to miraculously escape the nature of her bonds, she would be outnumbered in the fight. Robbi tried to control her breath, in an attempt to curb the anticipation and calm herself down, she then felt her captor’s weight no longer pinning her against the bed. At last some slack, a moment of rest. The henchmen now turned their attention to the photographer’s unbound lower body. With more coils of rope at their disposal it took no time for them to secure her ankles together, more rope was added right on the claves, over the knees, and finishing up with a crotch rope that tightened way beyond Robbi’s comfort. As a finishing touch, a smaller piece of rope, more akin to a shoelace was used to bind her exposed big toes together.
The henchmen gathered around the bed, looking down at the bold photographer now turned tamed prey. All of them stared, with a devilish grin, Robbi turned her back on the mattress and met their gazes. Their constant staring suggested they were expecting something from her. But what on earth could be expected from a lady in a situation like hers. The henchmen look to one another, now that the lights were turned on she could better examine the identities of her captors. As unremarkable as their faces were, it didn’t take the photographer too long to realize these where the sharp dressed men from the reception desk. Once again the henchmen looked to one another, grinning and almost letting out a chuckle. “Does the lady know how to put on a good show?” The boss inquired in a playful yet intimidating tone. “Only one way to find out Chief” The response was met by collective laughter as one of the henchman looked at Robbi’s exposed feet. Slowly he peeked her hand close to her soles, Robbi’s eyes opened up as wide as the features of her face allowed her. The inevitable will then ensue, with his fingers sliding across the photographer’s bound soles the thug sent Robbi into a fit of unbridled laughter. “MMMMMPGHHHHH, MMMMPHHHH” The young photographer let out through her gag whilst forcing her eyes close. Her own muffled laughter was accompanied by the henchmen’s more humiliating laughs. The tickling became incessant, going as far as to grab her ankles together in a firm grip to ensure every single motion of his fingers against her soles sent her on the brink of madness.


“Alright, that’s enough of that boys. Remember we have a job to do” The bosses ominous words meant Robbi’s predicament would come mercifully to an end. Given the strain of her bondage and how ticklish she is, the photographer wouldn’t have lasted too long subjected to such torture. It is at this point that Robbi Wren expects to find out about the men’s true intentions. They have a job to do, but for who? What job where they talking about? Whatever did she do wrong to deserve such a treatment?


“Seems like the nosy reporter is out of her luck Gaffer.” “Yeah, this is gonna teach her a lesson alright, wait until we present this redhead to Tony...” Nosy reporter? Robbi’s inner monologue started piecing the puzzle together. Whoever they though she was, they must definitely have the wrong idea.Of course this misunderstanding did not help her case, for she was paying for the actions of another. If it weren’t for the effectiveness of the wall of silver blurring her speech, she might have at least stood a chance in clearing up the situation. This is was far from the case, and from the nature of her bonds it was clear the idea of escape was growing more futile by the minute. “What do we do now Boss?” One of the thugs inquired, looking at his partners. The stocky man, the so to speak leader of the operation once again inspected the room, looking for an answer. Amidst the mess created by the short-lived struggle, the Boss paid attention to Robbi’s belongings. Besides the table, and resting on a rack, the suitcase the photographer used to carry all her equipment. Blue coloured and sizable, the Boss’ eyes seem to light up with a plan. “We need to get this gal outta here, and we gotta make it snappy and quiet. Jenkins, bring that briefcase over here.” The thug complied to his boss’ authority tone, it would not take him long before bringing the briefcase at the foot of the bed, away from the bound photographer’s view. Robbi’s arms meanwhile have gone numb, she can feel tingles traveling from the tip of her fingers to the bindings on her elbows. The force of the struggle had the side effect of making the ropes tighter than they were, which severely contributed to the numbness of her limbs.



The boss knelt down to open the suitcase, he removed the contents that remained inside leaving it empty. “You think she’ll fit?” One of the thugs inquired as the boss once again tested the sizable dimension of the suitcase. The question sparked fear in Robbi’s eyes, who was about to face the terrifying prospect of being carried inside her own luggage. “Oh she’ll fit alright. At the count of three, boys” The boss and one of the thugs grabbed Robbi from her ankles and shoulders, once they got a firm grip they prepared themselves to hoist the weight of her body. “One, two, aaaand three” Both henchmen employed all their strength, the young photographer was not as light as they anticipated, however in no time Robbi could feel her body being lifted from the comfort of the bed. The remaining thug made way and accommodated the suitcase for Mrs. Wren to fit in. As she was lifted, Robbi’s expression turned from fear to utter horror, from disbelief to frustration, and from hope to desperation. “MMMMMMPPPHHH... MPPPPGGHHGGFFF!!! MMGGHH!” By this point, at the sight of her own opened suitcase Robbi’s complaints became even more vocal than before. She could almost voice her anger coherently against the tape, only to be ignored by the ruthless thugs. She would seek solace in her efforts, but with energies running on low and the restraints becoming torture it was clear Robbi Wren was not getting out on her own.
Still with a firm grip on her body, the thugs started carefully lowering her until she was lodged inside the suitcase. Indeed the size of it was remarkable, she made for an uncomfortable but snug fit inside. Robbi’s body was now in a sort of fetal position, with her arms bound behind her back pushing against the walls of the suitcase. This put a significant amount of added stress to her limbs, already battered by numbness. Truly there was little to no wiggle room inside, not that this made any difference in the futility of her struggles, but it further increased the feeling of helplessness as claustrophobia too kicks in. There is something incredibly undermining in being stuffed inside your own suitcase, in Robbi’s inner monologue this had no effect other than adding insult to injury. And if such predicament was not punishment enough, now the fear of what might come next started to set in. It’s one thing to be kidnapped and kept inside your own hotel room, she had been through it a couple of times already. However it was certain the henchmen were about to take her to a different location, and god knows what fate awaits her.


“This will do nicely. Make sure to close it partially so she can breathe, it’s gonna be a long journey.” Robbi closed her eyes in defeat, letting groans out of her gag. She was on the verge of tears, one could almost hear her sob through the wrapped tape fusing her lips together. All of her fears had materialized into reality, and by this stage there was nothing she could do for herself other than trying to stay calm and endure the physical torture. All sorts of questions invaded the racing mind of the young photographer, most of them of course related to what she might be taken next. Her train of thought was quickly interrupted by the thugs closing the briefcase. “Goodnight Sweetheart” The boss exclaimed, followed by the laughter of his henchmen. With these words, and the sound of the zipper closing around her, Robbi was left in pitch black darkness. The only sounds around her where those of her own heartbeat, her breathing becoming heavier and the occasional whimper against the tape gag. The suitcase is dragged across the parquet floor of the hotel room, meanwhile the boss takes some time to gather all of Robbi’s photographical belongings. He crams all the stuff he can collect inside a duffle bag, for all the thugs know they might contain incriminating evidence from who they think is the reporter. As the briefcase is pulled right in front of the door, the thugs prepare to take their prey downstairs and into their van.
The door opens, revealing an empty hallway. The initial commotion does not seem to have affected any of the hotel guests, in fact there’s an eerie silence only occasionally interrupted from the young photographer inside the suitcase. The boss steps outside with the room key in hand, he then puts on a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door handle. Prior to this, at the moment Robbi went downstairs for dinner, one of the thugs went to the third floor of the building and disabled the security cameras on the hallway. Thus their escape route was ready, and with the coast clear Robbi was dragged inside her own suitcase.



The elevator doors open up, to the henchmen’s surprise revealing a female silhouette. The figure of a woman roughly the same size as Robbi, blonde and carrying a room key with the numbers ‘302’ on her right hand. The woman smirks, and simply says “Good night Gentleman” as she continues to her room unsuspecting...

[Bigballgag1]

Enjoyed this, very well written and detailed. Looking forward to the next part and finding out more about Robbi’s fate. Good work!

[GreyLord]

I second [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention]. I enjoyed your story very much. Welcome to tugstories. I am looking forward to your next installment.

[lanadelgagged]

[mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]GreyLord[/mention] Your comments truly flatter me, I am very grateful! I wasn't planning on expanding this story in the first place, but perhaps I get to work on the next installment <3

[AlexUSA3]

Interesting story so far!