In the past, Mr. Williams always went to The Center for his usual 24 hour bondage session, opting for a safe and clean experience. Sometimes he was more adventurous and opted to stay a week or more.
Today, totally out of character, he would deliberately throw safety to the wind, while getting blind-sided by a complete breakdown in hygiene.
The twentyish woman hurried past him that May afternoon in Greenwich Village, stopping at the corner. She was attired in the sluttiest, tight-fitting, black vinyl jeans that he had ever seen. They appeared to be at least one size too small, high-lighting the outline of her bikini briefs.
Also, he imagined that the jeans had seen better days, more than likely bought at a used second hand shop.
Normally, he preferred the expensive look and was suddenly surprised when the image popped into his head of her sitting atop his face in such attire.
As luck would have it, he caught up with her at the crosswalk before the ‘walk’ sign started flashing to proceed, giving him just enough time to strike up a conversation.
Abandoning all his preset safety protocols, he asked if she might like to come up to his nearby apartment, resulting in almost fatal consequences for him.
Shortly upon arriving at his apartment, Mr. Williams immediately found himself cuffed spread-eagle atop his king-sized bed with an accompanying o-ring gag strapped firmly in place all while still fully clothed.
His penis made a concerted albeit futile effort to expand inside his plastic chastity cage as the image resurfaced of her sitting atop his face.
He was no novice to the ‘scene’, so, he was not alarmed when she suddenly moved atop the O-Ring, coming to rest over his entire face, completely closing off his air ways.
The twitching accelerated within his chastity cage, as her ‘breath play’ went past the two minute mark. Too late, he wondered if she would know when to stop, or even if she planned to stop at all.
Thankfully, with only seconds to spare, she slid off his face and moved to the end of the bed. While he attempted to catch his breath, she kicked off her expensive shiny black ankle boots, and slowly rolled the slutty skin tight vinyl jeans down her legs and over her feet.
The faded latex bikini briefs, once shiny black, were dispatched with equal ease, both garments now at the foot of the bed. Mr. Williams gasped as the strong odor from the briefs permeated the air, guessing that they hadn’t been washed in days.
Things proceeded non-stop from that moment on until her abrupt departure.
Quickly, she got off the bed, used his shower, and dried off.
Then, she opened her shiny black patent leather tote from Gucci and pulled out an expensive pair of leather pants and stepped into them, sans underwear. She put on her ankle boots and sweater. They would have to do, until she got home.
Next, she had some housekeeping to do before leaving. She grabbed the rolled up vinyl pants and placed them into the tote, while a wicked idea for the latex briefs popped into her head.
Gingerly, she carefully lifted the repulsive now-dry bikini bottoms with her thumbs and forefingers, before force-feeding them slowly, inch by inch through the O-Ring gag in his mouth. Strips of sticky adhesive tape, crisscrossing his mouth would prevent them from being dislodged.
Lastly, she closed the overhead light, shut the door and left.
The briefs once again became wet as he wedged his tongue against them, attempting to keep them from sliding down the back of his throat like raw oysters.
Like most of his stays at The Center this ordeal lasted a full 24 hours, only less sanitary and certainly less safe. He got careless. Who hasn’t? He didn’t die. He could have.
I know how he was saved. You’ll have to wait until the epilogue for a possible answer. Suffice to say, their paths would cross again, as if by kismet.
Predictably, Mr. Williams went back to the safe confines of The Center, only to find out during his present twenty-four hour session that the recently hired summer intern was none other than Nanny’s niece, the very same femme fatale from his apartment.
This second encounter would find Mr. Williams once again totally helpless but with slight variations. Instead of being cuffed spread-eagle on the bed in his own apartment, he was now strapped in an adult sized crib, stripped of his adult attire, with a large night-time rubber pacifier wedged firmly behind his teeth.
Epilogue
Have you ever watched a television show, and at the end asked yourself, did I miss something? It happens to me all the time.
This latest adventure of Mr. Williams seems to fall into just such a category.
Why was our femme fatale on the prowl in such slutty attire while carrying an expensive pair of leather pants in an equally expensive Gucci tote? I don’t know. I should, but I don’t. Could have made a great story line.
Also, did you notice the expensive ankle length boots? What’s up there? To paraphrase Jerry Seinfeld.
Was their meeting on the street random? A meet-cute as they like to say in the movie world.
Or maybe, Mr. Williams planned everything from the very beginning? Maybe she did? Would like to have seen either story line developed.
Furthermore, I find it inconceivable that Nanny, Mr. Williams, and now the niece, would somehow wind-up together at The Center. I wish I knew how that could even be possible. Would have made one helluva story line.
What was the point of the foul smelling latex bikini briefs in the first place? Neither character seemed to be that enamored with them.
However, if it turns out that Mr. Williams was in fact turned on by such disgusting treatment, would he dare to ask for the same at The Center?
Would Nanny permit it? I doubt it. She hates it when even a small drop of drool spills on one of her pristine shiny brown ankle length rubber aprons.
Will the niece follow in her aunt’s footsteps? I’d like to know.
Was Mr. Williams ever in any danger of choking to death? I hope not.
Who could possibly have saved Mr. Williams after 24 hours? Was it his weekly cleaning lady? Must have been. Nothing else seems even close to plausible at this point.
Was it just luck that she came to clean the following day? Highly unlikely, Mr. Williams knew of her cleaning schedule.
Could Miss Hot pants, somehow been privy to the schedule, as well? That would have produced a more intriguing story line.
Also, who initiated the bondage on the bed in his apartment? I’d wager that she carried the gag and cuffs in her tote along with her own plastic chastity cage. This is a femdom story, isn’t it?
In addition, there’s still a few things I would like answered.
Is Mr. Williams going to leave after his present 24 hour stay? Will he ask to stay longer? Will he get extended against his will? If so, by whom? I have my preference. What’s yours?
Finally, whatever became of those briefs?