Montreal

I wrote these two parts of a three-part story a while back. I can't figure out how to end the story, though. Anyone want to give me some ideas?

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MONTREAL, Part One

The hotel room door swung shut on its springed hinge and closed with a heavy thud as the couple, burdened with eight or ten shopping bags, returned after a long day perusing the tony little shops lining the wide urban streets of Montreal. Her job is with a large American retail company and she comes to Montreal every year or so to shop trends. Hes her husband and is just along for the ride a chance for a romantic weekend away from the kids.

Their room is significantly nicer than those in which they typically stay. The hotel had oversold everything at the rate they booked and had to offer them an upgrade. They were in a corner of the tall building, eight stories up, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto a construction site across the narrow street and several apartment buildings next door to the hotel and adjacent to the building under construction. It was late in the afternoon, but there were still several workers in bright yellow hardhats milling about the site, many of them focused on some large piece of equipment directly across and a little higher than the couples room. The apartments seemed mostly empty, though he could see an old lady in a flowered nighty talking on an ancient cordless phone while watering the plants on her balcony, the cigarette dangling from her lips bouncing around as she spoke.

I could use a nice hot bath, she said as he dropped his bags on the floor at the foot of their king bed and fell backwards onto it.

Mmmm, he said drowsily as he hooked the tip of one shoe over the heel of the other and slipped them off his tired feet, That does sound nice. Have a good time.

Eyes closed, he listened to her move about the room. A little nap, he was thinking, sounds about right, just as he felt the weight of her body straddle his hips and her soft kisses on his forehead and face.

Then again, she whispered, a bath can wait, as she started to unbutton his shirt and run her fingers through his hairy chest. Maybe I could have a little fun first.

Mmmm? he said and moved his hands up to her waist. She had his shirt unbuttoned to his belt buckle.

Take that off, she said shortly. He immediately pulled the shirt from his pants and undid the last button. Leaning up slightly, he pulled the shirt from his body and threw it to the side. She was rubbing the palm of her hand along the hard, noticeable bulge in his pants and licking his left nipple. With a little bite that made him arch his back with pleasure, she hastily unfastened his belt and pulled open the six buttons on his jeans. She stood up at the foot of the bed between his knees and, in one motion, reached up and pulled his pants and underwear off.

Tossing the wadded up material aside, she stood looking down at him and admired her man. His long, strong legs, broad hairy chest and, in the middle of the lighter stripe of skin between his tanned torso and legs, a bright and shiny stainless steel chastity cage securely locked onto his straining manhood. Its construction consisted of a heavy steel ring encircling his shaft and scrotum. Secured to that by a small brass lock through a welded-on pin was a cage made from one long high-gauge steel bar formed into a curving spring-like form. The length of this cage was just short of 4 inches, so his erection pressed against the unyielding steel and pushed the ring up and into his ballsack pulling it tight across his testicles. The excruciating firmness of the cage caused the familiar aching pain from his constricted erection as it was forced back into his body.

She had locked him in his portable prison almost two weeks earlier (though he could tell you it was exactly 12 and a half days ago). The deal was she would release him on this trip and allow him to enjoy as many orgasms as he could get in the two nights and three days they were there. Imagine his disappointment and anger upon hearing she had forgotten the key back at their apartment, still on its fine silver chain she usually wore around her neck. He felt anger, yes, but dared not show it to her since to do so would only extend his imprisonment. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

She reached down and lifted from the floor a small black duffle bag, the contents of which he was well acquainted, and dropped it onto the bed about a foot from his left shoulder. She looked at the windows and furrowed her eyebrows in the cute and endearing way he knew so well. He continued to lie there as she went around and closed all the curtains on two walls of their room. He had an idea where this was headed (experience had taught him to trust her implicitly) but understood he was to do nothing without her instruction.

She returned to the bed and pulled from an outer pocket of the duffle two foam earplugs, a long strip of black satin, and a length of black leather with chrome hardware attached.

On all fours, she said, Up here, patting the bed. He assumed the position with is head facing her. As she brought the collar up to his throat, he bowed his head and felt the familiar leap of electric excitement within his chest. As she secured the buckle, he felt the equality of their spousal relationship fall to the floor and land next to his wadded up jeans. When wearing the collar, he was her pet. Her plaything. Totally and completely hers. All that mattered to him now was her satisfaction and happiness. Whatever she required whatever she asked he would do. His cock strained against its cage.

She placed the black cloth over his eyes and gently tied it behind his head. He was blind. He felt an earplug go into one ear. A moment later, she whispered into the other, Stay just like this. Dont move, and she plugged that one, too. He laid there in total darkness hearing nothing more than his short, nervous breathing. Subtle breezes over his exposed skin were the only way he knew she was still there, moving about the room, preparing for him whatever pleasurable torture she had devised.



After a few minutes (it was hard to know exactly how long in his sensory deprived state) he felt a thick leather cuff go around first his left, then his right wrists. She cinched them tight enough that he couldnt slip out of them, but not so tight they cut off his circulation. Moments later, similar cuffs were secured to his ankles. She removed the earplugs and hooked her finger though the chrome O-ring attached to his collar.

Get up and follow me, she instructed him, tugging his collar. He got to his feet, off balance from her tugging and struggling to keep up, and walked a few feet from the bed. Stop. Turn this wayOK, stay right there.

He felt something pushed into the back of his legs from behind. It was cold and hard against his calves. Thinking about what was in the room, he quickly decided it must be the chair from the rooms desk. He felt her securing his ankle cuffs to the legs of the chair.

Now, slowly start to sit, she said from beside him. He felt one hand on his arm as she guided him down towards the chair. Suddenly, something under him bumped into his ass. Hold on, she said as she repositioned the slippery head of the fire engine red dildo so that it aligned with is asshole.

He moaned shallowly as she said, OK, keep going. He felt the head of the latex cock press against the tightness of his sphincter. Relax, she said, Push out. He relaxed his ass the best he could in the partially sitting position she had him in. His sphincter opened just enough to allow the red cock head to pop though. His grunt was her cue to resume her downward guidance. He felt his ass begin to accept the intrusion and in his mind saw 1.5 heft of the 12 dildo glide into his body. Finally, with hard rubber ball sack of the dildo pressing against the bottom of his, he was in a sitting position. She then secured around his waist a belt with several D-rings built into it. On each side of his hips, she ran a strap though a ring, cinched them tight, and secured the ends to the chair. His impalement was complete.

Put your arms back here, she told him as she guided them over the top of the chair. The chair back was at the same height as his armpits so his whole body slid forward slightly on the seat. He felt the dildo grind into his ass and press hard into his hole as the straps securing his belt pulled tight. His shoulders were against the chairs back, but his ass was almost to the edge of the seat. She secured his wrist cuffs to the chairs back and he found his range of movement to be practically nothing.

From before him she said, Now, that should give you plenty to think about while Im in my bath, with a self-satisfied, gloating tone in her voice.

Youre just going to leave me like this? he asked, feeling heart thudding first in vessels lining his stuffed colon and then echoed in his throbbing, stifled erection. His ears reddened.

Well yes, of course, she replied matter-of-factly, But I dont want you to get bored. Hmm, too bad youre not facing the TV.

Couldnt see it if I was, he said with a dangerously sarcastic edge to his voice.

Well, then, let me remove your blind.

As the blind was removed, he was left squinting and blinking in the light of the room. She had illuminated every lamp and light. As his eyes adjusted, he also noticed that she had pulled the overstuffed armchairs from the corner of the room. In their place was the chair to which he was secured. Next to him was the side table, the lamp upon it also on to its brightest setting.

I shouldnt be more than an hour or so, she said from behind him. Try to make yourself comfortable.

It was then, as he heard her walk thick carpeting away from him and towards the bathroom, that he realized with horror the true nature of the predicament she had created for him. His cheeks flushed hotly as he looked out the tall, floor to ceiling windows, their curtains fully retracted. He was on display for anyone in the neighboring buildings who happened to look in his direction. Late afternoon was turning into dusk and all the lights in their room would turn it into a well-illuminated stage with his bound, submissive nakedness its main attraction.

A low, deep moan escaped his lips.

 

Part 2

MONTREAL, Part 2

The minutes ticked by. He sat motionless, not even taking advantage of the limited movement allowed by his restraints. Maybe, if he didnt move, nobody would see him.

From outside, as the dusk deepened around the floor to ceiling windows, he seemed to glow like a beacon. Every light in the hotel room was lit, including the one next to his chair, and most of the other windows were dark and empty or had their curtains drawn. She could not have designed a more prominent stage upon which to display her man. It was only a matter of time.

His eyes darted toward every movement. The small group of construction workers were still there, concentrating on a large piece of equipment. The old womans apartment was still lit, though she was nowhere to be seen. He noticed another widow in a dark apartment two over from the old womans illuminated only by the flickering light of an unwatched television, an empty recliner its only audience. The occasional car or taxi zoomed by on the street below. People walked quickly by, probably on their way home.

He had no concept of time. He could have been there for ten minutes or an hour. If not for the progress of the gathering darkness, hed have been in a timeless state, desperate to avoid what seemed to be the inevitable moment he was seen. Behind him, he could hear his wife humming to herself in the bath and the watery sounds of her occasional movement.

How you doing out there, baby? she called to him.

Great, he croaked. You almost done?

There was a pause. OhI dont know. The bath feels so good, she replied. Nice and warm.

He knew better than to say much more. If he sounded too desperate, too worried, itd only prolong her funand his misery.

Then, he managed to catch out of the corner of his eye the first person to notice him. One of the construction workers, a thin, shorter guy in a blaze orange vest and a yellow hard hat was pointing at him. The two others looked in his direction. He flinched. Trying to move, he grunted and struggled against his restraints, but it was no use. His heart thudded in his ears. He had been spotted.

The sound of his struggle must have traveled to the bathroom. Whats going on, baby? Do you have some admirers?

Yes! he called out. Three of them. Guys working on that building.

The three across the narrow way continued to look at him and talk among themselves. It seemed as though there were trying to figure out exactly what they were seeing. One squinted and cocked his head.

Honey? he called to her, voice quivering a little. How much longer?

Hmm? Oh, I dont know. Not long. My fingers arent even pruney yet.

One of the workers, a large guy with a big gut, started talking in an animated fashion and seemed to be laughing. The others laughed along. The third pulled out his cell phone and held it up.

Oh, god. Hes talking pictures.

Really? Maybe youll be on the internet, baby. He hadnt even realized he had spoken out loud. He pulled on his straps, but it was no use. Struggling only ground the big red dildo deeper into his ass.

Off to the right, movement in the old ladys apartment caught his eye. She was walking from her kitchen with a bowl in her hand, a cat snaking between her feet. She glanced up casually and saw him. She froze. The bowl dropped to the floor and the cat pounced on the dry food scattering across the floor. He could feel the heat rise in his face.

From her perspective, she could see it all, including the bright red scrotum of the dildo. The woman took several steps over to her balcony, her mouth hanging open. Looking right at her, he felt his heart thud once, twice, three times before her face started to contort and redden. She started to yell something. All he could hear through the thick glass was a muffled, high-pitched voice. She may have been speaking French. She stood there, screaming at him and waving her fist in the air. She was loud enough to get the attention of the workers who were doubled over on each other in laughter.

More movement above. A light had come on one floor up from the old womans and to the right. Two young, beautiful women walked into view, one sorting through the days mail while the second came behind, pulling off her earring and mouthing some words hed never hear. They looked like two office girls sharing a flat so they could afford to live in this upscale neighborhood. The second girl turned her head and saw him. Her hand went to the shoulder of the first and both their gazes were on him.

His mouth went dry. He breathing was in short, shallow pants. His chest, ears, and stuffed rectum all thumped in rhythm with the increasingly frantic beat of his heart. Cold beads of perspiration popped up on his forehead. He felt faint. This was getting out of control.

HONEY!?

Yeah, baby? she answered, as lazily as his call to her had been frantic.

Can we stop this now?!

Pause.

Not quite yet, baby.

He was embarrassed beyond belief. She knew that he got off on degradation, objectification, and humiliation, but she had never gone this far. It dawned on him that while he was terrified of the attention of all the strange eyes on his naked and bound body that his steel chastity cage was stuffed as never before and pulled far from his body, its ring biting painfully into the base of his erection. How? How in the world could this be turning him on?

The construction workers had sat down, legs dangling over the edge of the unfinished fifth floor of their building, and called down to passers-by and pointed up to him. He saw a small group on the sidewalk below looking up. The old lady had her antique phone up to her ear and was yelling at someone on the other end of the call, free hand gesticulating wildly. The beautiful young women had come out onto their balcony and were leaning on the rail, one on her cell phone, the other oh god the other with a small pair of binoculars up to her eyes, a sly smile spread across her red lips. Now, she could see everything in perfect detail, from his stuffed ass to his caged cock to his panicked expression.

His eyes fell to the apartment directly below that of the girls. The TV was still on, but it now illuminated a huge, fat man sitting in the recliner. He was entirely naked, covered in thick body hair, and staring unblinkingly at the bound figure before him. His clenched fist worked slowly up and down what, even from this distance, was an obviously huge erection.

His eyes locked with those of the fat, hairy man whose gaze bore right back into his. Undisguised animal lust burned in those eyes. His submissive psyche immediately responded to his larger mans obvious dominance. In a different time, a different place, the large, hairy man would have turned the other into nothing more than a sexual object. A slave.

Ready to get out?

He jumped. She was right behind him wearing the thick, white hotel bathrobe, her hair up in a towel. He never heard her leave the bath, though now he could hear the water gurgling down the drain.

Oh god, yes, Im ready. Im so ready.

Because if not, I could go back in there and touch up my toenails

NO! Please. Please stop this now. Please, I want it to stop

What will I get if I do? Tell me. What will you do for me?

Anything. Ill do anything. Just close the curtains!

Anything?

YES! Of course! Anything!

She walked to the window and slowly drew the curtains. The workers started making crude gestures at her while the old woman turned and stormed back into her apartment. The beautiful girls laughed while the one with the binoculars blew him a kiss with her perfect mouth. The fat, hairy man continued to stare and work his massive hard-on.

The curtains finally closed before him. The show was over. His tension recoiled and he slouched as best he could, the heavy sheen of sweat suddenly turning cold all over his body. The bright red dildo slipped just a centimeter deeper and a shiny bead of precum oozed from his caged, hard cock.

 

OMG. That's a really great idea!