I stood alone in the empty corridor. A few yards away, an ice machine rumbled. Further down, the elevator chimed. I jerked my head in its direction like a startled animal and waited to see if anyone had emerged from the vestibule. No one did. I willed my nerves back down.
Horny online chats were one thing. Coming to Sir’s hotel room was another. I wanted this so badly, but my anxiety and apprehension threw up barrier after barrier to sabotage me. There would always be work projects that demanded my attention. There would always be friends who wanted to make plans at the last minute. I committed to dismissing every one of those mental roadblocks when they arose. I was proud of myself for getting this far.
I already flaked on Sir once before. He graciously accepted my apology and backed off while I sorted myself out. It wasn’t long before I started messaging him again. He was patient yet firm in guiding me toward a second meeting. It was inevitable. I knew I wouldn’t get another chance if I flaked again. This was it. Now or never.
I knocked on the door. There was a split second of panic when I thought I was at the wrong room. My nervous excitement had me in knots and second guessing everything. I took a few deep breaths, just like Sir taught me, and my racing pulse slowed. I was in the right place. I had checked Sir’s text messages a hundred times and followed His instructions to the letter.
I reached into my pockets and pulled out their contents. In my left hand, I held a plain white envelope full of $20 bills. In my right hand was a black blindfold. I slid the blindfold over my eyes and tightened the elastic strap around the back of my head. The satisfying snap sent a bolt of pleasure through my body, and I shivered. A bead of sweat ran down my freshly shaved scalp and landed on my shirt collar.
I dropped to my knees, using the door jamb to guide me on my way down. I heard movement inside the room. Sir was on the other side of the door, no doubt watching me through the peephole. He wouldn’t open the door until I had complied with all His instructions. I placed the envelope between my teeth and bit down. I straightened my necktie and ensured my tight white dress shirt was tucked in. Then I squared my shoulders, thrust my chest forward just like Sir liked, and clasped my hands behind my back. I was ready for Him.
Silence. Nothing happened. I started mentally counting the seconds that passed. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. My anxiety re-emerged from the shadows, tricking me into thinking I must be at the wrong door again. Knock it off, I thought. Sir is just fucking with you. It’s exactly what you wanted.
Admitting that my greatest desires were to be humiliated, objectified, and used as a human ATM hadn’t come easily. In the months since W/we started chatting, Sir allowed me to explore my compulsions safely, heightening my desire and building my anticipation toward O/our inevitable first meeting. I bought the clothes Sir wanted me to wear. I shaved my head. I withdrew cash from the bank.
A deadbolt turned. A door opened, but not the one I was kneeling in front of. Instead, an older couple spilled out into the corridor a couple yards away, chatting inanely and fumbling with the door handle.
Fuck! I thought. My heart pounded, and despite my predicament—or perhaps because of it—my cock hardened. I immediately felt the unmistakable combination of pressure, pleasure, and pain as my rising cock filled the chastity cage I had locked on myself before leaving home. Part of me wanted to doff the blindfold, get off the floor, and run away. But another part, a much larger part, was delighted to be on display like this.
The chattering couple fell silent as they approached me. I wrung my sweaty hands, still clasped behind my back. I tried to stay as still as possible, like a prey animal hoping to blend into its surroundings. Only there was no way I could camouflage myself. I was exposed, and I loved it. My cock ached inside its steel prison. I tried to control my breathing, but the cash-stuffed envelope between my teeth made it difficult. A trail of drool ran down my chin, and I could do nothing about it. I remained in position no matter what, just as Sir ordered.
The couple’s footsteps faded into the distance, and their chatter resumed. The drumbeat of my racing heart and my ragged breathing drowned out most of what they said, but just before they disappeared into the elevator, I heard one of them say the word “pervert.” I might have laughed if I weren’t so focused on remaining motionless for Sir. They were right.
Finally, the door opened—the right door this time. I hypercorrected my posture and clasped my hands so tightly that my knuckles cracked. As I raised my chin to present Sir with His envelope of cash, the strong scent of His cologne wafted out into the corridor. I inhaled deeply, wanting to take in every molecule of the man who had made me His. I could almost feel the heat radiating from His body as He stood in the doorway, inspecting me for compliance with His orders.
He tugged on the envelope between my teeth, and I released my grip to let Him take it. A moment later, He slammed the door. I knew the rules. Sir wouldn’t acknowledge me until He counted His cash. I waited in position for what felt like an eternity for Him to return and claim me. I instinctively inhaled when the door opened again, hoping to get another dose of His scent.
“It’s all there,” He said, referring to His cash. “Come on in, and let’s get started.”
I started to get up off the floor. Sir pressed firmly down on my head, keeping me on my knees.
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