How I Found a Keyholder Ch. 06

I knew where the stairwell was by now, but it felt like a bit of a novelty to be going up instead of heading down to the basement. The upper floors were no less mazelike, however, and I was relieved to note that the sixth floor (which was the building's top floor) was much less busy than at ground level. After exploring and doubling back, I found the West Hallway, which was empty. It looked to be all lab rooms of some sort along here, and they were all empty at this hour.

I found the men's room and went in. In terms of design vintage, it had a lot in common with the department store restroom I'd been in a couple weeks ago: the same spacious layout, the same cold floor tiles, the same ground-in pissy smell. Flipping open a stall door to find the QR code I was looking for I even saw there was a similarly-situated stuffed-up gloryhole, and my cock stirred a bit in its cage. But Sir isn't going to repeat himself like that, is he?

Probably not, and the QR code this time was not in one of the stalls, but instead on the base of a wall beside the urinals. I scanned it, surprised at the eagerness in my guts to get the instructions. Am I getting hooked on doing these?

Unusually, I was left standing there for a minute, waiting for the response. My phone signal in here was down at the lowest bar, no surprise in one of these concrete heaps from the '60's that were built like (or maybe as) bomb shelters.

While I was waiting, I looked down again at the urinals. My mind flashed back to last week, when I had to lick the rim of the one in that office clean. To my surprise, the memory turned me on as I remembered the piss-taste that had left on my tongue.

I looked down at the urinal rims. There were a few drops of liquid on a couple of them, and dried drops below that on all of them. Oh, what the hell!

I kneeled down, and licked the rim of the one in front of me. There was a definite strong piss taste. I moved over to the one on my other side, and it tasted just as good. I was over licking the third one by the wall when my phone finally buzzed, and I remembered what I was doing here. I stood up and flicked open my phone screen.

"SET CAMERA ON LEDGE BESIDE WINDOW, POINTED AT URINALS

"GET UNDRESSED, LEAVE BAG ON FLOOR BELOW URINAL BY WALL

"STAND BETWEEN MIDDLE TWO URINALS

"PUT HANDCUFF ON LEFT WRIST AND LOCK OTHER CUFF TO PIPE ABOVE URINAL

"PUT HANDCUFF KEY ON SHACKLE OF TIME LOCK. LEATHER CUFF ON RIGHT WRIST. LOCK TIMELOCK AND RIGHT WRIST TO METAL BRACKET

"SET TIME LOCK FOR TWENTY MINUTES"

Whew, only twenty minutes! But I realized that meant there was probably a corresponding risk of someone coming in during that time. Still, I felt unusually eager and ready to go, so moments later I had the camera set up and recording and was getting undressed and stuffing my clothing in my bag.

I don't like that my bag isn't locked up.... anyone could come in and paw through it. Or take my phone.

No time to worry about that as I started going through the process of locking myself up. Sir hadn't needed to add anything for me here, as the wall had about fifty years of plumbing and associated connections. The pipe to my left was easy enough to lock myself to, though a little high, leaving my outstretched left arm raised higher than my head. The bracket to my right (which must have held some now-absent pipe once) was a little lower but further away, leaving that arm stretched further out. By now, it was a little less of a struggle to thread the shackle of the timelock through the loop on my cuff and the metal bracket. It clicked in place, and I hit the button to start the countdown.

Well, that's that. I wonder what would happen if someone came in here to take a piss and found a guy stretched out between the urinals? Maybe this is one of those cruising spots and they'd be into it...

My thoughts trailed off as I looked around, taking stock of my surroundings. There were four urinals along the wall here, the older kind with no dividers between... the sort of setup where you could peek over at the guy pissing next to you if you were so inclined. The wall to my left had a large pebbled window, flooding the room in diffuse natural light. The end of the row of sinks was across from me, with a large mirror above, so I could see my reflection looking back at me. The toilet stalls were to my right, and they blocked the view to the door, so if someone came in and headed right to the stalls they wouldn't see me.

Nothing happened for a few more minutes, so I had nothing to do but to look at myself in the mirror, locked up, helpless. That turned me on a bit and I could feel a string of pre-some oozing out from my cage and dripping down my leg.

Then the door opened.

Heavy steps came in as the door whoosh-ed shut. And paused. Then a couple more steps. This time, I could hear one of the cubicle doors being pushed open. But the person didn't enter it, instead taking a couple steps and pushing the next one open. That one didn't suit them, either, so they stepped over to the next -- the last one in the row. If they kept going past that, I would be directly in their sight. My cock stirred in its cage.

In the mirror, I could see a tall, thick man in dark clothing step over to that last cubicle. He pushed that door open as well, and twisted as he leaned in, as if checking to confirm it was empty. Because the large block letters on the back of his shirt were backwards in the mirror, it took my brain a second to untangle them: SECURITY.

Oh. Shit.

Satisfied with that last stall, the security guard stepped over to give the urinals a cursory glance. He did a bit of a double take when he saw me. Then his eyes narrowed and his face settled into something between a glare and a smirk.

"I thought we'd been giving the message to you homos that this restroom is off-limits for your shit."

"I, ah... I'm... sorry," I stammered, not sure at all what to say. After all the places I had been doing this in for the last couple months, I was well and truly busted.

"There's no more warnings. You're getting the fine, and the ticket is going to the college senate, so you're probably expelled, buddy. You're going down to the office with me."

"Um, I... I can't."

He looked at me like I has just insulted him. "What?"

My initial panic reaction was abating, though I was still plenty freaked out, but I was getting back my ability to use full sentences.

"I'm locked here, on a timelock. I can't go anywhere until it's done."

The security guard now walked right up to me, standing about a foot in front of me. He was a pretty typical example of his species: buzzed hair, thickset muscled gorilla type. Cop wannabe, probably a sociopath. But to my surprise, the presence of this fully-dressed, malicious man in my personal space was hugely arousing as I felt my utter powerlessness.

He looked up my one arm, and then the other, leaning in when he saw the timelock, which he grabbed to look at more closely.

"I'm not standing here for another ten minutes to guard you. And I have rounds to do. How does this work?"

He peered at it, then his finger poked out to hit the MINUTES button and the lock beeped as the counter went up.

He stepped back from me. "Don't go nowhere. I'm gonna double-lock the door and put this restroom out of service. I'll come get you later."

With that, he turned and stepped back, twisting when he was by the sinks. He pulled out his phone and took several pictures of me. "I have evidence of this. Don't think a ticket won't stick."

His eye caught my bag. "That yours?"

I nodded, and he stepped over and leaned down to grab it. "I'll bring it when I come back." Without further comment, he turned and left.

I could hear some distant clicks at the door that must have been him locking it. Then it was quiet. I was alone.

Well, fuck. Nothing to do but wait, now. And this definitely isn't the exciting kind of waiting.

I twisted as much as I could and leaned over to look at the timelock. It read 01:58, and for a second I thought he'd messed up and set it for less than two minutes. Then I realized the digits were shifted over, and it was in fact, nearly two hours.

Shit.

This waiting was a different kind of experience. There was a spiky ball in the pit of my stomach, with sort of the inside-out version of anticipation sweeping over me. Dread, I thought to myself. The word you're looking for is dread.

No phone, no wallet, no clothes. Locked in place, and all I could do was wait while the minutes slowly ticked down. Time went very, very slowly.

After about an hour, it sounded like it was getting busier outside in the hallway. Every couple minutes, the door would rattle as someone pulled at the handle, only to find it locked. I started to worry about what would happen if someone else found me first. That security dude can't be the only person with the key. What if a custodian comes in?

I also had another slowly-building worry, as I realized I needed to take a piss. But close as I was to the urinals, I wasn't in a very useful position to properly use them. After thinking about it for ten minutes, I managed to twist my body enough that most of my piss hit the urinal to my left, though I splashed some on the rim left a puddle on the floor. Guess I'm leaving a treat for the next urinal licker.

The lock's timer had just moved below five minutes and I was trying to shift my sore shoulders around when I heard the rattle of keys at the door, and then the door itself opening. Then it was locked again, and I realized I was locked in here with the security guard.

"Still here, hey?" With a little flip, he tossed my bag down, and it slid along the floor to the wall, by chance ending up right in the pool of piss I'd left.

The guard looked at me. "Your wallet is down in the office. I have your name and address on all the forms. So now we need to talk... decide if you want those forms filed or not."

Well! I was not at all surprised that this guy was low-key crooked. But now I wondered if that would make things even worse for me.

"I saw that when I was here before," he said, pointing at the camera that had been recording me for the past two hours. "Is the viewfinder app for it on this?"

He held up my phone and I nodded, and he asked me for the access code. I couldn't think of any way to get around telling him, so he opened my phone, and he found the app for the camera pretty quickly. "Hm," he muttered as he looked at the screen, then up at the space it was filming. "Top of the shot is... here..." he held his palm out and moved it around in front of him, trying to see where the limit of the frame was. "So need to be back about... here... okay."

Just then the timelock beeped, indicating the time had finally run out.

"Get yourself unlocked," he said, "and get on your fucking knees right... here." he pointed to a spot on the floor a couple feet in front of me and to my left. It took a minute, as usual, to get the locks all undone. I wanted a moment to let my arms and shoulders relax, but instead, I knelt and shuffled to the point he had indicated.

He stepped in front of me and I realized what he had been trying to do. My face was at his crotch, right in front of the camera, and his head was definitely cut off from the shot.

"I guess you want a blowjob," I said, looking up at him.

"Fuck that," he said, as he undid his zipper. "I'm going to fuck your fucking face."

Putting my phone in his back pocket, he pulled his cock out. It was cut, and pretty standard looking in its flaccid state. "Hands behind your back, and get that in your mouth."

I complied, and quickly I started licking and sucking it.

"Aw yeah. Welcome to my world, baby."

After a couple minutes, it was filling out enough for me to get a better sense of what I was sucking -- it was on the thin side, except for the bulbous head, and curved up a bit. He was probably a little above average in terms of length, maybe about six and a half inches.

"Don't play with it. Take it in, all the way." Once I had taken in him in in his erect state, it was clear it would be inadvisable to pull my mouth off. So I started bobbing my head up and down, trying to take in as much as possible.

"C'mon, deepthroat it." Now there was a hand on the back of my head, pulling it toward him with a steady force. The tip of the cock hit my gag spot once and I tried not to retch, though I couldn't pull my head back to breathe.

The hand pulled me in with more force. "Get on my balls." I stuck my tongue out and it reached forward to find the top of his hairy sack. Now there were two hands on my head, and they twisted my had back and forth. I almost gagged again, and I was struggling to breathe. Normally, this is where I would change things up, or the guy who I was blowing would give me some space to breathe. But this guy was serious in intent and he obviously didntt give a fuck if I was in discomfort.

"Get it in your mouth," he muttered. "Yeah, don't move, get on it... further.

His fingers were digging into my scalp a bit now. "Unh, yeah. Stay there. Stay right there."

And with that, he started fucking my mouth. I realized I'd used the phrase before, said, that guy fucked my mouth, but this was the real, primal thing. He was in control, and he was now thrusting his cock in and out of my throat. All I could go was struggle to breathe, and not gag, and try to remember to keep the suction in my cheeks.

Something was sore in a weird way in my throat, but at least the gag reflex had settled down. He was thrusting into my face with full-on strokes, and I felt an urgent ache in my balls. I grunted around his prick as a mini-orgasm rippled through my solar plexus.

Finally he pulled his shaft out of my mouth, but mostly because he wanted to smack his cock against my forehead. Long strings of saliva were dripping from the length of his tool. "C'mon, suck on my balls," he muttered, and I tried to take a full breath before I wrapped my lips around one of the large orbs now dangling in front of my mouth. After a few seconds he pulled his balls back and started slapping my cheeks with his erection.

"Yeah, yeah. You gettin' mad at Sarge?" he asked, taunting me as he kept smacking my face.

And then he shoved his cock back in my mouth, and he gripped the sides of my head tightly again. "Yeah, c'mon.... c'mon. Time to suck out my load. Get 'er done."

He was fucking my mouth again, and I had another, smaller peak, and then I tried my best to give as much suction as I could. He was grunting more than talking now, and he pulled my face forward hard. My nose was squashed against his pubic hair as I felt his cock throb in my mouth, and I could tell he was coming... right down my throat. I didn't even taste anything until he started pulling his cock out and his seed smeared across my tongue.

He slapped my face with his cock several more times, then let it rest in front of my face. "C'mon, clean it off." So I went through the whole ritual of licking his cock clean as his erection subsided. When he was satisfied, he tucked it back into his pants.

He caught his breath for a moment, then grabbed my phone again. He opened it, and stopped the camera. "Get dressed," he said.

"Are we... are we okay now?" I asked as I took stock of the wet trail of spit that was covering my belly, and looking at the pool of saliva that had gathered on the floor. I stood up and grabbed my bag, putting the camera in, before removing the cuffs. Then I could actually put my clothes on as I tried to ignore the wet patch that was starting to soak through the bottom of my bag.

He laughed. "Are we okay? Dude, that blowjob just gets you out of this bathroom. Then we're gonna go down to the office and process you."

I guess it wasn't gonna be that easy.

When he saw I was done dressing, he turned and started heading out of the restroom. He knew I had no option but to follow him, so he didn't even bother looking back at me. He grabbed an OUT OF SERVICE sign from the bathroom door and headed over to the elevator. The labs on this floor were busier now, and there was definitely more foot traffic around.

We went down to the ground floor and into a sprawling security office close to the main entrance. There were a couple other security guards here, one sitting in front of a wall of CCTV monitors. We turned and went into what must have been his office. He sat behind a desk and gestured for me to sit.

"So, here's the paperwork I need to file to charge you." he handed me a few printed forms. They all had my name and address already filled in. There was a scan of my driver's license attached.

"And it looks like you're not a student, so we usually escalate that sort of thing to the city P.D., so here's the forms I'd need for that." He handed me a few more printouts, and there was a pain in my stomach. Real police felt like a different thing entirely than College Security. There were things like "indent exposure, felony" filled in on the forms.

"So that's one option. There's a second option: you could bring me two thousand dollars, cash, by tomorrow at noon."

"What?" I was slightly shocked by the baldness of his bribe solicitation.

"You heard me." He paused and let me think for about thirty seconds.

"This is a one-time offer. So... which option do you want to go with?"

I felt my insides crunching. I wondered what the fine would be for indecent exposure. And could I really get a criminal record? What about my job? I sighed.

"I guess I'll pay you," I said.

"Fucking right you will. Cash, like I said. And I'll be in my office here from eleven til noon tomorrow."

He reached into a drawer and pulled out my wallet, and then my phone from his pocket. He set them on the desk in front of me.

"All right, get the hell out of here."

I left. I didn't start shaking until I was unlocking my bike. I stopped at a bank machine on my way home. I actually did have a little bit saved, so at least I wouldn't have to raise the money. But I quickly found out I had a $500 limit on withdrawals.

I was planning on going out with some friends later in the evening, so I figured I could hit another cash machine then. As I pulled out my wallet to put the bribe money away, I realized the cash that I did have on me -- more than a hundred bucks, 'cause I was planning on hitting a couple bars later on -- was gone, so I guess that was an added sunk cost.

It was probably better to have gone out than to have brooded at home, but I didn't have a great time that night. I got more cash on my way out and my way home, so I only had no make one more withdrawal the next day on my way back to the college.

I found my way back to the security office, and Sarge was indeed working behind his desk. I opened my wallet and handed him the wad of bills. He nodded, and quickly stuffed it in a drawer without looking at it.

"Get the fuck out of my building," was all he said to me. He held up a page that that a blow-up of my photo from my license. "You're barred. Don't show your fucking face in here again."

I hope I don't get another assignment here, I thought to myself darkly as I biked away. I don't want to see that prick again, and I don't want to have to give excuses to Sir.