The Apartment Block

by B. Larson

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© Copyright 2023 - B. Larson - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; fpov; collar; strip; straps; gag; public; mast; reluct; X


He'd said the wine I'd been drinking on the flight gave my mouth a floral flavour. l took the compliment, but I'd undoubtedly had too much, probably out of the anxiety of having only met him twice before.

This time was different though. Our online chats had entered new territory. To make a long story short, he'd sent me a picture of a girl in underwear and bound with white rope, with the challenge: "Do you fancy an adventure?"

Seeing the image had shocked me at first, but with it came the realisation that, if this was his secret fantasy, that this might be a way to be with him.

The idea of being helpless and controlled by such an attractive man had grown on me. Being tied by anyone was something I'd fantasised about myself in fact. Plus on some level I was pleased that he was honest enough to share his fantasy with me.

l had agreed we could 'try it'. The next evening he'd come back online with a few outlandish scenarios we might act out.

He'd reeled it back a little in the meantime, afraid of shocking me perhaps. But the agreement had been made it seemed and, based on that, he'd booked me a flight to visit him for an 'adventure weekend'.

Exciting idea? Yes. The reality - of going ahead with it, and being on a flight alone to a foreign country? That was a reality check.

He'd paid for the flight. That was part of the deal. I'd run with the idea and cajoled myself to go ahead and dress like one of those eastern European professional ladies you see passing through airports, if you get me. Short clingy black dress, strap-on heels, even the stringy underwear, and all hidden away under a black rain mac. I'd waxed fully, gotten my hair and nails done, and applied some pretty heavy mascara.

Dressing up to be his gift was fun and exciting but it had made me feel quite silly on arrival, and even seemed a little unjustified right up to the moment he'd offered to take my coat and place it in the trunk while we were in the underground parking lot. Seeing my cling-on dress up close had sparked a spontaneous kissing frenzy, pressing his tongue into my mouth powerfully while groping my little bottom. A little ice breaker but also perhaps marking me out as his territory. l'd responded perhaps too eagerly and he'd disengaged to back me up against the car again, staring into my eyes meaningfully for a long moment.

After checking nobody was around he pulled the bottom of my dress up to my belly to expose the narrow strip front of my thong underwear.

Moving my hands away to stop me covering myself, l gulped in anticipation as he stood back to view my evenly tanned form. An inspection!

The cool underground air brought goose-pimples to my legs, but suddenly he was back in my face. With one large hand around my neck he kissed me deeply once more, before pulling my hem down again. My sense of dignity restored, if not my breath, he silently gestured for me to get into the passenger seat.

On the road

As we drive in his car, we chat and giggle like teenagers. The car seems large and luxurious and l feel very much the trophy in the passenger seat being fetched from the airport, and driven back to the manor.

We chat about the flight and my problems connecting my phone to a network. I like it when he places his hand on my knee, but during a pause in our chat, he reaches to open the glove compartment. I see a black ribbon-wrapped gift box.

"Open it!" he says.

My heart skips a little when l reveal its contents. It's a black leather collar.

"Oh - so this is really happening" l think to myself.

l look at him with a smile.

"Put it on," he says, eyes fixed on the road.

The instruction gives me pause. I'm the trophy girlfriend downgraded to sex toy, feels like.

l join him in staring at the road ahead.

lt's not the ruby tiara l was expecting, but giving him the benefit of the doubt, l take a deep swallow and wrap the strap around my neck. It's just a collar after all. I buckle it just behind my ear.

To kill my the new awkwardness in the air l busy myself with putting my hair up, and pulling down the passenger mirror to see how it looks, feigning enthusiasm.

He breaks the ice. "Do you like it?" Jeremy's ability to play the dom is very convincing. Rather than answer, I shoot him a playful smile. He laughs warmly.


At his home - an apartment complex in the city centre, we find ourselves in an underground parking lot. Opening my door and taking my weekend bag from the trunk, he takes my elbow and leads his collared import to the door of the lift. The entrance and exit signs all in a language I don't understand reiterating how far from home I am. It's not very reassuring.

We take a lift to a beautiful and spacious apartment, and l'm offered a drink. But before l'm served, l'm pressed against the wall and devoured with some quite aggressive kissing and groping of my butt. I'm reminded of how much bigger than me he is, as he pulls my short dress up over my head and tosses it onto a sofa. This is all happening very quickly! He reaches behind my back to expertly undo my bra with one hand, before tossing that onto the sofa as well.

With one hand keeping me against the wall, his other hand runs wild over the contours of my small but well toned body, kneading my breasts as if sampling their tone and texture. He pauses.

"You are very beautiful," he says sincerely, looking deeply into my eyes. "But first we have to complete your challenge, okay?"

I'm reminded of that photo of the sexy bound woman. Am I ready to be taken control of? He's gotten me all hot and bothered and, standing now in his hallway in my g-string, heels, and collar, l feel unable to say no.

Looking him straight in the eye, I can almost feel the lump in my throat against my dog collar as I slowly nod my acquiescence. With that simple gesture I agree to what's coming..

Agreement reached, it immediately feels like I've given him a licence to use me, as he continues where he left off and turns me to face the wall. I feel the matt textured paintwork on my cheek as his body weight presses up heavily against me. He leans into my butt cheeks, his hands squeeze my waist and hips and pull at my butt cheeks. His hands intrude under my thong string to confirm I'm completely bald down there, and a little moist, and my nipples are twisted until I squeak out loud.

It's quite a moment and l figure this is turning into a very enjoyable evening, when l feel him pull my arms behind me and pin my wrists together so that l can't get loose.

Keeping them pinned together with one large hand, he prods me down the corridor before him. He opens a door and I don't break the tense silence when I'm brought into what looks like a work room.


There is a counter and I'm pushed over and bent over it unceremoniously, my wrists still trapped behind me. Jeremy takes a short leather strap from the counter and l know what's coming.

Good God, I'm barely off the plane forty minutes and now this. I'm being collared and tied, by a man in his workroom, in a foreign country nobody knows I'm in. And I've agreed to this!

"Uh - Are we doing this already Jeremy?" l ask, before adding a joke, "l usually get a drink first!"

Before he answers, I feel the strap being buckled, snugly binding my wrists together.

"Isn't this what we agreed to?" he asks, answering my question with a question.

It's true. I've given him several green lights, and maybe even encouraged him in our many online chats, but the physical reality of being overpowered like this is triggering my flight instinct. I bite my lip.

From my face down position l feel his body pinning me against the counter edge. I see him pick another, longer strap from the counter, and feel him roughly pull my elbows together, before encircling them with the strap and pulling it tightly. I'm reminded of that time he asked if I do yoga.

With a heavy strain on my shoulder l feel the soft skin of my inner forearms pressing together. l gasp at the pressure created in my shoulders and my breath quickens.

"Jeremy - Jesus that's so TIGHT!" I gasp.

He moves away and l rebound up to stand again facing him.

"What the hell - Aren't we going a bit hardcore here?" l raise my voice for the first time.

With his increasingly irritating capacity for silence, he folds his arms and smiles the broadest most beautiful smile.

With his eyes now all over me I'm more aware of my erect and protruding breasts. They seem to jut out like I'm offering them to him. l can't help but blush and he approaches me to give me a welcome bear hug. As he kisses me deeply, I feel quite dominated by his large body, his tongue pressing into my mouth. I feel myself melt again as the temperature rises in my lower abdomen and crave for him to finish what we started in the corridor. I can't initiate anything though, incapacitated as I am.

While locked in a passionate embrace, l now feel his fingers slip under the extreme hi-rise string around my waist and my thong is pulled down past my thighs to drop onto my ankles.

He kneels down to dislodge them from my feet. l can feel his warm hand circling my ankle to lift it. l close my eyes. l can't look!

My heart now beats so strongly I wonder if he can hear it. Can he be noticing the moisture between my legs when l lift my knees? Can he smell me? Oh my God.. please get this over with!

l don't even try to resist having my last clothing removed, but his politeness in this moment is making me soooo self conscious! Don't get me wrong, I've been naked with a guy before and I've been undressed.. but Jeremy's body language is so transactional. Like a clinician prepping a patient.

When he stands back to look at me - now fully naked - I'm self-conscious again as he inspects my body. It's not at all cold in here but my nipples are unintentionally standing to attention. I must say it's one thing being publicly naked, it's another thing having your breasts forced to protrude so absurdly.

l know how much he's loving this however. It's his desire to act all this out so meticulously that keeps me on-side each time I think of chickening out. And I remember that he's paid for me to be here this weekend. He has a vested interest in acting out the fantasy that I feel duty bound - if you'll pardon the pun - to repay.

"How am I doing, does my body please you, Sir?" l ask dramatically, encouraged by the effects of the wine I've had earlier.

"Are you happy to be here?" he asks.

"Yes Sir," I respond.

"Are you excited?" he asks.

l nod.

"Can l see?" he asks.

I cast my eyes down, unable to admit that l want him to touch me. He sidles up close beside me. His slow hand runs over my stomach… and down to my smooth crotch. My feet shift to a wider stance as he cradles my mound in his large hand, like he's testing the shape of it. My breath is now quite audible in anticipation but he still doesn't enter me. He doesn't need to. With a slight sense of shame, l move to lean my head on his chest, but he backs off. He keeps recreating this social awkwardness over and over, never giving me that ice breaking intimacy I'm craving.

"You're doing great Anna. Just a couple of more things before we go out," he said, leaving the room.

Go out? I think to myself, What the... where is he going to take me dressed like this?

Alone now, I look around the work room. Other than counters, shelves, drawers and boxes there isn't much to suggest its purpose. There are some eye bolts drilled into the wall and ceiling and on the counter is some kind of timber form that l guess would hold whatever he's working on steady. It has the look of a woodwork bench but l don't see any chisels or tools.

I wonder what he does in here and what his plan is for me. Have l made a mistake allowing him to do all this to me?

I'm hopeful there is a good reason for front loading our dirty weekend with the fantasy I'd agreed to. I convince myself he's feeling as aroused as I am and wants to get this off his chest before spending a more 'normal' weekend with me. He'd told me on the way over that he himself would need to be brave to go ahead with acting all this out. It would be easy to just untie me and cuddle, but this plan of his has to be carried out first, and an essential aspect of it is that l be kept in the dark about what happens next.

l am on board with that, but his comment about 'going out' is now troubling me.

Just then he comes back in with a wicked smile. Is that what l think it is? A shiny red ball on a strap. l feel my heart start to pound again.

The dynamic in this moment is that l am the inanimate toy that doesn't question why or what he's doing to me. But we hadn't mentioned a ball gag in our online chats.

"Jeremy" I say, "Is that going in my mouth? I'm not sure l can... "

"Shhhhhhh," he puts his finger to my mouth, part reassuring, part threatening, and silently moves behind me.

He motions me up against the counter and l feel my bound hands press against his jeans as he braces me firmly against the edge of the counter. Wow - he's really going to do this to me. He's going to gag me.

Hearing a nervous shake in my own voice, I say: "It's just that I've never been gagged befo…" but my sentence is cut short by the orb pressing against my lips.

"You're going to look so beautiful with this," he says. I take a deep swallow and open up. "Wider," he urges as the silicone ball snags against my teeth.

He's a lot larger than me and while the back of my head is being held steady by his chest and his thumbs planted under my ears, l feel the ball agitate inelegantly against my teeth as he pulls the straps back forcefully.

Overcome with claustrophobia now I instinctively squirm against him, but his grip on my head is so powerful. Please don't do this!

"Unggg," a moan escapes me as my head lurches in panic against the ball just as it finally slips fully past my front teeth.

That's it. It's in.

Defeated, I feel him loosen his hold on me to buckle the strap. He tips my head forward rather brusquely and flicks aside my ponytail before I feel the grating of the strap sliding through the buckle at the base of my neck. A final disrespectful tug, and the ordeal is over.

"There." he announces.

He's done it. He's gagged me.

I take a moment to myself as he steps back. I don't budge from the spot. I'm shaken by the onslaught and I'm feeling quite violated. When I open my eyes they're blurry with tears.

He pulls my chin towards him, but it's only to check that the strap won't come loose.

The feeling of your mouth gaping open so grotesquely doesn't feel so sexy at first, if I'm honest.

l try to stretch my jaw open to let the silicon invader settle but I'm already at capacity. I can compress the ball if I squeeze on it and I can feel the straps chaff against the edge of my distended mouth.

"Can you spit it out?" he asks, without a hint of an apology.

My first time gagged, I try to say that it's too big. "Achh-huh-hugh," comes out. Christ I sound moronic on top of everything else. I want to complain about the fact that I can't even talk to him now, but he reads my mind.

"It's okay Anna, it's just for a little while," he sighs. "You don't need to speak. I'm the only one talking from now on, Okay?" I make an attempted swallow, and nod quietly.

Eventually returning his stare, he sees my eyes moistening up. I'm losing the 'feeling'. He approaches. His arms slip around my torso for a strong embrace, and l bury my head in his chest. His hands move to my butt cheeks and the grope has the soothing effect of a deep massage. And then the 'feeling' comes back!

Oh my God I'm such a pushover. This guy has total control of me. How does he do it? It's almost like he's found my 'On' button. What's wrong with me!

Eager to be touched again, I feel myself writhing my butt against his hands. I try to direct his hands further between my cheeks, but as soon as I feel the pleasure building deep down inside me, he stops and leaves me standing!

He comes back with another buckled strap and his hands move to my ponytail. He tugs it loose and then recreates it into a high ponytail right on top of my head, wrapping the strap several times up and down to form a kind of rigid pillar, before buckling it snugly.

Then he's pulling my collar ring again, jerking me forward out of the work room.

My groan of frustration is muted by the ball gag, as my stilettos teeter unsteadily across the lino floor, taking me back out into the hallway.


Right next door is a beautiful bathroom and I'm pushed inside.

Okay - does this mean I get to pee? I turn to see if he's going to untie my hands, but then the door closes and I'm all to myself. Screw it, I need to pee! For once I'm annoyed to see a toilet seat cover down, but manage to raise it without breaking my finger nails and make a successful landing on to the toilet. My hands behind me press against the raised seat cover. I hope it's clean and I do my best to manage without my arms. l see Mr Posh Jeremy's bidet alongside me has a push button style faucet. Man l gotta try this.

After managing to flush, I go to straddle the bidet and see that l can indeed push the button and produce water, but unfortunately it goes down instead of up and I can't reach far enough to splash it onto myself. Drat!

The knock at the door is surprisingly polite, and l answer with an urgent "Ung-ung" (hang on) but the door opens anyway and l blush as he stands over me laughing. There's no privacy in here it turns out.

He puts a finger through a d-ring at the front of my collar to pull me to my feet, and moves me over to face the mirror over the sink. He pulls the cord and the light comes on.

A moment of full exposure as I see my bound self for the first time. My eyes widen at the armless creature facing me. Wow! The arm binding forcing my breasts forward makes them look more D-cup than C-cup, my chest appears to reach upwards like some kind of eastern bloc soldier on ceremonial display. My abdomen is stretched taut and my ribs almost appear to strain under my tightened skin.

The most standout addition though is the large red orb set against the white of my exposed upper teeth. Yes it's grotesque and disfiguring, but it does look sexy despite the dribble of drool forming on my lower lip.

I look like a perfect slave! Is that good?

I've never experienced this feeling of objectification before. l catch Jeremy eyeing my reaction, and I see he can't stop grinning. I'm his private show tonight.

The downlight of the mirror doesn't illuminate the shadow under my legs, but now l feel Jeremy's hands move from my hips to my nipples. He twists back and forth gently, until they're fully erect.

Now he reaches to run the tap. In the reflection I see him smile wickedly as he lathers his hands with soap from the dispenser. I know what's coming and my head falls back onto his chest in anticipation. I feel him hardening in his jeans against my bound hands. His soapy fingers get busy with my manual bidet and l swoon heavily from the persistent and heavy stimulation of my inner crotch. Splaying my legs a little, I feel an arm come around my waist to steady me and l close my eyes, free falling into the imminent oblivion of a massive approaching orgasm.

Oh my God, please don't stop. Over the squelching in my pussy l hear my quickening breath wheezing past the gag as l start to groan pitifully in his hands, but then suddenly he stops!

I'm whining through my gag as he shakes me from my euphoric trance. Opening my eyes I see him pressing a white towel between my legs to dry me, almost painfully dulling my urge to get off.

I groan a loud "Wogh-ah-uhg-huh?" (why did you stop!), and implore him with my eyes. But he's already pulling a plastic package from a shelf behind him. It's a pack of left over blue covid masks. I'm puzzled as he slips one over my ballgag and pulls the strings up behind my ears. He then checks that it covers my over-stretched mouth.

"Okay," he says, grabbing my upper arm firmly and guiding me out of the bathroom.

All Dressed Up

My heels are quietened on the hall carpet as we come worryingly close to the front door as he goes to search through an overloaded coat rack.

Oh Christ - why is he looking for a jacket? My arousal dials down a notch once more as l realise he's looking to cover me up. Is he really 'taking me outside'?

"Ungggggggg" comes out of my voice box when l try to say 'No' when he comes at me with a jacket. l half collapse against the wall, my brow plaintively furrowed. But he pulls me back up using my collar ring rather degradingly. l pull against him like a dog who knows she's going to the vet, but his other hand slings the jacket over my shoulders and, and pulls it tight around me.

The jacket is a man's military green parka with one of those head-concealing fur lined hoods. I'm swimming in it but I'm guessing he's chosen it to covertly hide my arm binding. He pulls the hood up and it hangs down a little over my eyes.

He doesn't zip it up though, instead leaving it hanging loosely open.

"Huh?" My protest sounds almost like a real word.

I stamp my feet on the carpet in protest as he pulls on his own jacket in front of me. It's a pretty elegant looking modern cut affair and works perfectly with his jeans and brown loafers.

He dresses well, and I'm thinking that I'd be proud to be seen with him, as he checks his pockets for his wallet.

"All set!" he says.

Opening the door, he places his hand on my back to firmly usher me out.

My heels crack loudly against the tiled floor of the brightly-lit lobby, and I gulp that he's actually taking me outside. Excitement gives way to fear of public humiliation. Will he bring me somewhere public? Will he leave me on a bus? Will he publicly expose me?

The small lift lobby is shared by three or four other apartment doors, each with peep-holes!

I wonder to myself if his neighbors are nosey. As we wait for the lift I notice a droplet rolling down my inner leg. It must be from my fun in the toilet and l try to rub it off with the other knee, almost losing balance. I back up against the lift door to face him, both for privacy and to implore him to seal me up! He's busy with his phone, but he comes close and reaches into my jacket to run his hands over my naked hips and thighs.

Oh Christ I'm so naked.. and yes, collared, bound and gagged, yes!

Going Down

He stoops to nuzzle my neck above my collar and as my head tilts back the jacket hood slips a touch. Then something crazy happens.

The blast of air from the approaching lift is so strong it flares up my jacket and l feel like it's going to slide off the end of my ponytail. To stop it falling further I react by trying to jam my back up against the door behind me, but the door has already opened rather too quickly and the jacket drops, with me tripping backwards after it!

As I fall I see Jeremy valiantly lash out to grab the lapels of my jacket but the left side slips from his fingers and the force of pulling the other one sends me careening sideways back into the lift. I can't get my feet under me and I brush against the wall before landing on the floor, bouncing painfully on my right butt-cheek. Oh my God!

Lying on the floor facing the wall, I'd normally apologise to whoever's in the lift with me but I'm almost petrified to look behind me. Hopefully they're okay with a tightly bound woman falling naked into their lift.

But I'm distracted by what I see through the now-closing lift door. In lunging to save me, Jeremy has managed not only to pull my jacket out of the lift, and dislodge my face mask from my left ear, but guess what else? He's dropped his phone, separated it from its protective casing, and the last thing I see before the door closes is him scuttling to pick it up from the floor with one hand, and racing to stop the lift with the other.

Oh Christ. My heart stops. I'm so panicked I can't scream. I hear the muted sounds of Jeremy shouting "HOLD IT!" and slapping on the lift button. I eye the crack of the door hopefully, but the lift hums into motion. I stare at the crack of the door in disbelief. But the lift makes that loud hum as it picks up speed!

I flip my head behind me finally to see who's there in the lift with me. But there's nobody!

I breathe in relief - for a second - but then it dawns on me. We're descending. I'm going down. What the hell do I do now? I'll be arrested? Kidnapped?

Oh my God I need to stop this lift. Picture yourself wearing buckled-on high heels, arms welded together, and trying to get up off the floor. I flip my right foot at the red STOP button, but I'm not even close.

With a grunt I roll onto my stomach and, jamming my head against the wall, manage to get a knee and then two knees under me.

The lift shudders as I turn and take two large knee steps towards the lift button panel, hastily throwing the right side of my face at it. A number of buttons illuminate, and I stare at them for a moment to watch what happens.

With my head spinning and blinking the tears away, I think I see floor 5 change to 4, and then I hear a 'BING!' sound. Okay. Are we stopping on 4? There are 10 floors - Did I press button 4? I'm pretty sure we started on 7.

I race to get my body up the wall to try to get standing on my feet as the lift slows to a stop.


I press myself into the corner to hide as best I can, hearing the buckles binding my arms clink against the metal wall. I'm now tall enough to see myself in the mirror opposite me. The covid mask has fallen to the floor and my gag gleams bright red under the fluorescent lighting. My heavily-heaving breasts glow with sweat and my mascara wouldn't look out of place on a death metal front man. I'm in a public lift, bound and naked. How did I let this happen?

The lift slows and finally stops. An audible 'Oh please' comes out of my mouth as a soft groan. Time stands still and I hold my breath.

The doors slide open. I throw my head back into the corner and in the mirror I see a line of drool slip over my chin and down towards my neck. I bite down on the ballgag like it's a stress ball.

I hear young mens’ voices outside. They are laughing. It's Saturday night and they're probably going out. It sounds like they're having drinks while waiting for the lift, their noisy chat spilling out into the lift lobby.

Nobody comes to the lift.

I dare not move a muscle. Through squinted eyes l focus blankly on my reflection in the mirror. The lobby's colder air gives me goose-pimples and my nipples harden visibly.

I hear footsteps enter the lobby. It sounds like a woman in heels. Oh Jesus don't come in. PLEASE DON'T COME IN!

She must be literally feet away when she shouts back to the others. I presume she's calling them to take the lift but I don't understand the language. The 'DING!' sound signals the door to close, but my heart almost jumps out of my chest when right in front of me, a hand clamps on the door to stop it closing.

It rests on the door furthest from me. Can't she see my protruding breasts? It looks like a young woman's hand with nicely manicured fingernails. I squeeze my knees together to stop them shaking, as the woman shouts again. The male voices shout back at her, and I hear her sighing and muttering something to herself. Can she know I'm here? The draft carries the scent of her overdone perfume; I recognise it, but can't name it.

The hand disappears, but I don't hear footsteps. The door closes with another 'DING!'

Bottoming Out

I breathe so heavily some drool spits out from the side of my jammed open mouth. I swallow heavily in relief. The lift starts to move. Oh my God, what next? I feel spent and allow my knees to buckle as I slide down to sit on my ankles, the wall now moist from my body contact.

Feeling too shocked to intervene in my fate, I watch now as the digital display counts down, 3, 2, 1, 0.

The lift stops. I think it's the ground floor, and the door opens. Nobody there. A cold draft makes me shiver a little, but otherwise all is silent.

The door stays mysteriously open. I wonder where Jeremy could be. Still waiting on the lift I've been hogging? I decide I can't risk staying in the lift and meeting any more neighbours! I should get out.

Tilting forward I straighten my numbing legs stiffly back to a standing position. l poke a foot out into what seems to be the building's main entrance foyer. The sharp crack of my steel stiletto on the polished stone gives me pause. It's deathly silent and almost dark out there.

Peeking to the right I see the array of mailboxes and the double glass doors of the main building entrance. Bright lights illuminate the trees beyond the entrance, but the only internal light comes from the lift behind me.

To my left I see a green-lit sign that says 'IZEGA' with that little figure running through a door. It points down a smaller corridor to the left. That's got to be the fire escape stairwell, right? Trying to think clearly, I figure that's my best chance to intercept Jeremy. The notion that I might never find him makes me feel queasy. Everything hinges on finding him, and only him!

A floor to ceiling mirror covers the entire foyer wall opposite me and sets my bound form in silhouette against the brightness behind me. Seeing myself full length for the first time distracts me for a moment. Armless and tall, with impeccable posture!

I gingerly step closer to take a look at my eyes. A little bloodshot. The ballgag up close looks obscene as ever. I bite down on it and see my overly strained jaw muscles flexing tight.

The saliva slick on my chest shimmers in the reflected light and stretches all the way down to my bald vagina.

For a second I wonder if some security guy is watching me from behind the mirror, or perhaps a camera. Look at this foolish naked girl in the foyer! I turn to show him my backside. I see my arms still tightly pinned behind me. I make a little wave.

Okay it's time to get serious. I take a last look into the lift. I see the abandoned mask and the damp stains on the floor left by my saliva.

Fire escape

The grating echo of my heels bounces off the full length mirror as I teeter along towards the green sign.

A familiar 'BING!' sound makes me jump just before I turn to enter into the escape corridor. The lift doors close. The foyer is plunged into darkness and the lift starts to ascend. Could Jeremy be coming down? Or the partygoers on level 4? I don't want to wait here to find out which.

I gaze down into the abysmal darkness of the narrow escape corridor when suddenly there is a clanking noise behind me. I almost die when I see 4 or 5 men outside the glass windowed entrance about to come in! Holy shit!

It's flight time! The harsh echo of my heels against the bare walls is deafening as I run headlong into the increasingly dark escape corridor. I must have run fifteen yards, when I almost skid to a stop in front of a barely visible IZEGA sign in front of my face. It's a door. I push my knee into it, before realising it's a push bar escape door. I turn my butt and arms to lean against it, but just before I do I look back up towards the lobby.

The lobby lights have come on now, but my corridor is still mercifully dark. Am I visible here? I can see my saliva soaked chest, and there is enough to see my nipples standing erect as my breath heaves them up and down.

I hold my breath now to listen. I cannot imagine getting captured naked by some randy middle aged drunks, or what they might do with me. Could they have seen me? Haven't they heard my footsteps? What if they come and chase me? I'm freaking out here!

I'm still praying that the door stuck to my ass will take me to a stairway. If it goes outside onto some street what then?

I listen feverishly between breaths. I hear the men's voices louder in the lobby now. I don't yet see them, but if they've seen me I'm sure they will come after me.

Breathing heavily, tears clouding my vision again, I feel my hands on the push bar. I take a last look up the corridor. The suspense killing me, I decide to quietly open the door and see what's behind it. I lean gently but firmly with my hands and ass on the bar. As it snaps open, the loudest alarm ever is triggered and a row of fluorescent lights the length of the entire escape corridor flickers to life, flooding me suddenly in blindingly bright light.

This is it. I have to go for it. The door opens and I step into a short concrete floored corridor. In the flashing alarm lights I see a similar door ahead, but as I approach it I see that it's been chained shut. I bash my hip against the push bar a couple of times, but it won't budge.

Oh my God I'm trapped. I scream into my gag, but it only becomes audible when the unimaginably loud alarm suddenly falls silent. I look up to see the previous door slam shut with a heavy clank, and my world disappears into an all-consuming black darkness.

With the escape corridor suddenly transformed into a private prison cell, I listen breathlessly and wait for the door to open!


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