A Note at Noon Ch. 01

On Sunday right about noon, Harold heard a knock on his apartment door, but when he looked through the peep hole, the hallway was empty. He opened the door to have a look and found an envelope taped to the door. The envelope had his name written on it in handwriting he recognized. In the envelope was a plastic hotel key with a note. The smaller envelope the key was in had the number 318 written on it, and the note said, "come at 2 precisely and follow written instructions."

Google maps informed Harold that in present traffic the hotel was twenty-seven minutes away, so he left his apartment at exactly 1:15 to allow himself enough time. He left the car with the valet at the hotel entrance and entered, then he took the elevator to the third floor. The arrows on the wall directed him left toward room 318. The card gained him access, The room was dark but for a sliver of light from a part in the heavy curtains. A large canvass shopping bag lay on the bed. In the bag was a handwritten letter, again in handwriting that he recognized.

It read:

Welcome, Harold

Follow these instructions exactly:

1) Remove all the contents from this bag.

2) Strip naked. Your shoes, clothes and all belongings go in the bag.

3) Hang the bag on the inside doorknob.

4) Shower thoroughly and dry yourself -- I want you clean.

5) Use the bottle of perfumed oil to douse yourself, liberally rub it on your entire body. Head, face, neck, chest, arms, tummy, cock and balls, legs and feet.

6) Put the cuffs on your hands and ankles. Make sure they are tight enough that you cannot slip out of them even with the oil on you. I will test them.

7) There are four ropes tied to the legs of the bed. Find them and place them on the bed on top of the bedspread.

8) Fasten the ankle collars to the two hooks at the foot of the bed. Make sure they are secure.

9) Fasten your wrists to the two hooks at the head.

10) wait for further instructions.

Harold dutifully emptied the bag's contents onto the bed. He took off his shoes, then his pants, and placed these in the shopping bag. He pulled the polo shirt over his head and put it in the bag, then he took off his socks and his underpants. They went into the bag. He sat naked on the foot of the bed, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and sighed. He hung the bag on the doorknob, then went into the bathroom. He didn't know how long Mistress would be, and he did not want her to find him in a state of unreadiness--that is, before he had time to complete all the instructions.

He turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up. When it had, he adjusted the temperature and stepped in. He took the bottle of hotel shampoo and lathered his head, face and whole body. She'll want my cock and balls super clean, he thought, so he gave them extra attention. Soaping his penis and scrotum with Mistress in mind got him hard. No time for that, he thought, and he quickly rinsed and stepped out of the shower. He took a towel and dried himself thoroughly. He returned to the bed and found the oil. He lay face up on the bed and poured a generous stream of oil over his chest and abdomen. It smelled of lavender and ginger. He rubbed it on his arms. He poured more on his hands and rubbed it on his face and head and ears. He sat up to pour some on his legs, down over his knees to his ankles and feet and rubbed it on them. He poured more onto his belly and smeared it down over his cock and his balls. He was shiny now, smelling of lavender and ginger.

He looked around for the cuffs--two for the legs and two for the wrists. Harold paused again, just for an instant, having second thoughts about going through with this. Once bound to the bed there was no turning back, and he knew this. Still, he craved Mistress's attention. He craved her discipline, her strict, corrective measures. Mistress could be harsh when she wanted to, but after all wasn't that the attraction? Still, he could leave right now if he chose. He was not yet bound to the bed. He could still stand up, get his shirt and pants from the bag, and leave. Sure, this would incur Mistress's wrath, but he would deal with that another day. Or would he? If he left now, then wanted to come back, how hard would Mistress be on him? Or would he even come back? Or would Mistress even take him back? And if so, under what conditions?

Harold stared at the door and the bag hanging on the doorknob. What if Mistress is walking down the hall right now? What if she's right outside the door? What if she comes in and I'm not ready and haven't obeyed her instructions? A wave of panic swept over Harold. He took the leg cuffs and fastened them to his ankles. Remembering Mistress's admonition that she would test them, he tightened them as far as he could without cutting off the circulation. He pushed hard on each one. Neither would slip past the ankle. He fastened and tested the wrist cuffs. He had forgotten the ropes! He got down and felt under the bed for the two ropes and placed each of them across the two corners. Then he got the other two and brought them across the top corners. He latched a hook onto each of the ankle cuffs and lay back face up. Mistress didn't specify face-up or face-down, he thought. How am I to know what she meant? Too late for that. Harold scootched up toward the headboard and felt around for the rope and hook. He found it. It was an easy enough matter to reach over with his left hand and hook it to his right-hand cuff. There! he thought. Almost done. Another wave of panic came over him. How was he going to fasten the left wrist with the right hand bound? Then another panicky thought came to him: Make sure you don't knock it on the floor when you're trying to find it. He found that rope and took it in his hand. He pulled it across his chest and tried to stretch it and hook it. It didn't reach. Almost, but not quite. Just inches to go. Damn! He thought. I have to get this before Mistress arrives! He pulled harder. Nothing. Then he thought of something. Using his legs against the ropes, he pulled himself toward the foot of the bed. Then with his left hand he could pull the hook far enough to reach his right hand. He barely held the hook in the fingers of his right hand. He stretched it to the strap on his left wrist. It clicked!

And barely in time. Harold knew Mistress hated for him to be late. One time he arrived just ten minutes late for a session, and it went really bad for him. Mistress made him strip on the spot, bound his hands to a post and flogged him until he thought he would pass out. She didn't stop there, either. She made him stand at the edge of a table and lay his cock on it, and she beat it with a riding crop until it was pink. He didn't know why, but the pain made his cock increasingly hard, which made Mistress beat it even more. He vowed right there to Mistress and to himself he would never be late again for a date.

But this time he was ready for Mistress--and on time. He ran through the checklist in his mind to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Clothes in the bag--check. Bag on the doorknob--check. Had a bath--check. Covered in oil--check. At any minute Mistress was going to walk through that door and have her way with Harold. He wondered what she would be wearing. Of course, Harold thought, she had already checked in and got the key to drop off at Harold's. Obviously, she would have been wearing presentable street clothes. Presentable. Mistress was always presentable, even if barely legal, when she went out. Harold imagined her in the full-length black leather overcoat she sometimes wore. On one of their rendez-vous, a dinner, she wore that coat through the entire meal. When they arrived at her dungeon, she shed the coat to reveal all she had on under it were thigh-highs, a tight black thong and pasties. God, was that hot, Harold remembered. He hoped Mistress would walk in wearing the same hot black coat. Mistress was beautiful in that no matter what she had on underneath.

The climate control clicked on and blew across Harold's naked oily body reminding him of where he was and of his predicament. Mistress will be here any time, he told himself.