How I Found a Keyholder Ch. 09

"Please, please fuck me," the sub responded. As I listened to a series of creakings and rustlings I guessed James was fingering the guy's asshole to get him ready and I was as hard as I could get in my cage, shivering with horniness. The guy moaned -- I realized that was James entering him -- and as a steady rhythm of thrusts began, I realized I was jealous.

I wish it was me getting fucked.

I wish it was me getting fucked -- by James.

That full realization struck me in a funny way and I felt by belly flutter and my knees weaken a little. Despite everything that I'd been doing -- and the "dates" I'd had with Tony and Edward -- I'd been resistant to the idea that I could crave a fucking from my old friend. Someone who I'd known for far longer than I knew I had desires like this. There was a sort of propriety attached to the idea that my sex life should be separate from my friendship... but now I realized that was an old way of thinking.

As the tempo of the fucking increased, with occasional harsh spanking slaps against the sub's ass, my lust increased. I wish he was fucking me. I hope he brought me here to fuck me. It had been a month since I'd gotten fucked, a month since that gentle night with Tony. And now I couldn't remember wanting to get fucked so badly. Wanting to get fucked hard, like James was fucking that guy right now. Wanting to get fucked by James.

I think I moaned a little, but it was drowned out by the sounds emanating from the room beside me. It occurred to me that James probably expected me to stay quiet and not draw attention to myself, and though my balls were aching something fierce I mostly managed to, though I was so turned on.

There was an especially loud smack. "Stop touching yourself now," James commanded. "Don't come until I say you can." He kept fucking the guy for several minutes after that, and they were both moaning and keening until a heard a larger shifting of bodies.

"Lay back," James instructed. "I'm gonna come on your face now. Okay if I can record this?"

The guy made an assenting sound, and things were quieter until James started moaning again. "That's right... get ready... I'm spraying this... on your... faggot... FACE!" And with a grunt I knew he was ejaculating.

Why isn't that me?

And then, after a little bit, the sub started moaning and it sounded as if James had deigned to use his hand to finish him off.

I'm not even allowed to wish for that, I thought to myself, jealous at the bottom for his unlocked ability to be able to finish off with his own orgasm. From his moans as he came, I could guess it was rather satisfying.

Then there were quieter sounds of softer stroking and muttered words, too low for me to make out, but even after the fairly intense and dominating fuck it appeared James was enjoying a bit of a tender afterglow moment.

That didn't last too long, however, and once he'd recovered, James was politely but firmly trying to move the guy along. It took the sub a couple minutes to realize that James wasn't expecting any hanging around after, and once the guy took the hint I could hear him getting dressed.

"Mind if I use your bathroom?" he asked.

"Um... better hold it and use the one in your room," James said. I knew him well enough to know his tone of voice meant he was expostulating on the spot. "I really wrecked it in there before I headed out to the movie and I... think it might need a little plunge, actually."

"Uh... okay. Well, thanks for that. I really needed it. We should hook up again if you're coming to the MegaCon in the spring."

"Yeah, sure. I might see you there."

The wind-down had put a bit of awkwardness in both of their tones, and the guy was ready to just GTFO. I was twisted around a bit to try and get a look at him as he walked past the open bathroom door to leave, but he was just a blur as he grabbed at the room's front door and left. He certainly hadn't bothered to turn his head to look into the bathroom he had been dissuaded from using.

A couple minutes later, James came into the bathroom, flipping on the light. He was still naked after his fuck-fest, so for the first time I saw his full body, and I wished I had more time to investigate it. Instead of addressing me though, he just went over to the toilet and took a piss, leaving without washing his hands. Back in the main part of the room, I heard him opening his luggage. Christ, I hope he's going to unlock the cooler and let me get at my stuff.

Instead, he was fussing with something for a few minutes before he came back into the bathroom.

"Let's get you ready for bed," he said as he stepped up to me and unlocked the chain holding my cuffs over the shower curtain bar. My arms were sore as I lowered them for the first time in a couple hours. James gestured for me to follow and turned to leave the bathroom. I stepped out of the tub and trailed behind him.

I got what was actually my first look at the main part of the hotel room. Pretty standard issue, with just one king-sized bed.

"Lay down," he said.

On one side of the bed there was an arrangement of straps that James had engineered somehow. Following his instruction rather than investigating more closely, I sat on the bed, then stretched myself out. Standing above me, James grabbed one wrist and then the other, attaching the cuffs to the straps before tightening them slightly. He grabbed a couple more cuffs that were on the nightstand and put them on my ankles, attaching those to straps as well. Those were tightened as well, enough that I could hardly move my legs at all. I was secure in place on the bed.

That done, James proceeded to totally ignore me. He returned to the bathroom and I could hear him brushing his teeth once more. He came back, turning off the lights behind him, and climbed into his side of the bed. It was big enough that he was a few feet over from me.

For about a half-hour there was just the glow of his phone screen beside me. A couple times I heard the tinny sounds of instagram videos, and a few times he laughed at something he was reading. The last thing he did before putting his phone down was to watch the video he had just taken of him shooting his load on the face of the guy he had just fucked. On this bed.

Hearing that -- and the memories it triggered -- got me hard in my cage again. I wondered if it was having the same effect on James. Maybe he'll be ready for another round! Instead, he put his phone down and rolled over as the room was now fully dark. After ten or fifteen minutes I could hear his breathing change to a slower, deeper pace that indicated he had fallen asleep. I felt too agitated, and slightly uncomfortable enough that I didn't think I was going to follow suit, but I guess I drifted off as well.

...

...

The next thing I was aware of was of a body above me. I was pinned down. I tried to move my arms and legs and couldn't -- I was hazy and confused for a few seconds until I remembered where I was. In a hotel room. Bound to the bed. The room wasn't fully dark -- murky predawn light was seeping through the window blinds.

James was above me.

Something brushed my lips. I sensed it was his cock. Oh God, yes.

James was on his hands and knees, in a sort of 69 position, his hips above my head. He must have been looking down at my face, for he knew I was awake now.

"Open your mouth," he said. "I gotta piss."

Without hesitation I followed his order. His cock was still just close enough to brush my lips again. I was expecting he'd lower himself down and let me wrap my lips around his cock. Instead, he just started pissing in my mouth.

He didn't hold back his stream, and flat on my back as I was, I almost started choking on his piss before I could swallow. And then once I did, I almost gagged. Its strong taste was bitter and harsh. But I had no choice here. I swallowed it all down.

He pissed a goodly amount before he was done, as the last couple stray drops dribbled on my face. I was gasping for breath, but I was also mesmerized by the soft tool dangling above me. I tried to hunch my head forward to lick it.

Sensing my closeness, James pulled his hips back. I moaned. "Please! Let me suck it!"

He rolled off me, and an arm darted out, lightly smacking my balls. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to focus my attention. "Shut your fag mouth," he said. And once more, he rolled away from me and instantly fell back asleep.

This time, I was far too agitated to drop off again, and I lay there, watching the room slowly brighten with the hint of morning light creeping around the edge of the shade. An hour must have passed, or more.

I dropped off into at least a semi-sleep, and I came to with a start as I felt James getting out of the bed. He went and sat by the writing desk, then picked up the phone and ordered room service. Then he headed into the bathroom and took a quick shower. I wanted to be in that shower with him. I also wanted to use the toilet -- that load of piss he'd fed me was pushing against my bladder.

I wonder what he has planned for me today?

When he was done in the shower, he came out and released me from the bed. But that gained me only a few feet of freedom. He gestured for me to drop to my knees beside the coffee table in front of the suite's sofa. Once there, he cuffed my hands behind my back, then produced a spreader bar from his luggage and put it between my feet behind me, locking my ankle cuffs to it. Even if I could manage to stand up from this position I wouldn't have an easy time getting anywhere.

There was a knock at the door and James went to retrieve the breakfast tray. It was a large meal -- eggs, sausage, hashbrowns and toast, some sliced fruit and a bowl of oatmeal. He set it on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa and set to eating. My belly rumbled.

He managed to get through a lot of it. When he stood up, most of the fruit was left as well as the oatmeal. Half a piece of toast and a few bits of scrambled egg. He pushed the tray toward me.

"You've got five minutes," he said as he walked away from me. "You better eat up."

He went back into the bathroom and I could guess he'd be shaving and tending to his hair, preparing his usual meticulous appearance for the world. And me, I was on my knees with my hands bound behind my back. Figuring he wasn't bullshitting me, I leaned forward and started to eat the scraps that were left for me.

In five minutes, I had oatmeal smeared across my cheek and chin and had managed to get a bit of egg up my nose, but I'd consumed all the food. There had also been a glass of orange juice that conveniently had a straw.

"Good boy," James said as he looked at the clean plates on his return. "Now, we've got a busy day today!" He proceeded to start a lengthy monologue, detailing all the things he was planning on seeing at the convention. While he did so, he removed the spreader bar and helped me to stand up. But once more I didn't make it far.

He led me over to the room's entryway, to the open coat rack across from the bathroom door. There, he gestured for me to sit on the floor, back to the wall, legs in front of me, and the cooler with all my clothes a couple feet over from me.

The spreader bar was locked between my ankles again, and a chain hooked to the middle of it was attached to something in the bathroom. My legs were comfortably stretched out, but I was unable to pull them back toward me or make any motion to stand up. My wrists were locked together in front of me. James also produced a couple long, thin straps that went under each of my armpits and were attached to the coatrack bar above.

James was going to have a busy day at the convention. I wasn't going anywhere.

When I was in place, he ducked out of the room for a minute, and returned with an ice bucket that had a couple inches of ice cubes in the bottom. He set that between my legs as he finished getting ready to go.

"If there's any piss on the floor when I get back you'll be a damn sight less comfortable afterwards," he warned. With that, he headed out.

Figuring I would have lots of time to kill, I waited until he had left to explore my predicament. I could move my arms just enough to grab the ice bucket. So once the ice melted, I'd have something to drink. But I had a more pressing concern. I needed to piss quite badly now, and the only place I had to urinate was in that ice bucket. So I had better not leave it full of ice for too long.

I spent the next half-hour or so chewing on ice cubes. My jaw was sore, but I'd managed to get nearly all of them down before I had to fill the bucket. Holding it in place to piss into was a bit more tricky, but I felt relieved when that was taken care of.

And then, back into that waiting state of mind. I had no way to measure the time, so all I could do was sit there. For what must have been a couple hours, time actually went by pretty quickly as I relived last night's experiences, first remembering how it felt to be chained in the bathroom while James fucked the guy he picked up; then, and in much greater detail, imagining what it would have felt like if I were the guy getting fucked. That got my cock straining hard against my cage.

Then the haze of arousal slipped away from me and time slowed down. I was going to need to piss again and I preoccupied myself by trying to wait as long as possible, and then trying to work out the best way to tilt the ice bucket without spilling anything. Flexing my legs as much as I could, I was able to lift my hips a few inches off the floor, and that helped.

After that, it was into blank time. I think I dozed off a little, as the light from the window was different when the door opening jarred me back to focus. James stepped over me to head into the main part of the room for a few seconds and setting down whatever he was carrying before walking back to stand in front of my face.

"That was cool," he said, as if picking up mid-conversation from his earlier detailing of his convention plans. "I got a couple autographs and didn't have to wait too long in line. I gotta jet right away 'cause I have VIP access to the big cast preview for the next MCU movie. Gotta piss first, though."

With that, he undid his zipper and fished out his cock, stepping forward so it was right up against my mouth. Obligingly, I opened it up as he gave me a full load of piss to swallow. It made my balls ache -- he'd brought be to a different city just to use me as his personal toilet. The idea of it was so hot it made the whole morning's waiting feel worthwhile.

When he was done, shaking the last few drops out on my face, he tucked his cock away and leaned down to pick up the ice bucket. He pivoted and stepped into the bathroom, dumping it in the toilet and returning it to where it had been. He went back over by the bed and returned, setting a bottle of water between my legs, as well as a foil-wrapped burger.

"Right, gotta go. Catch ya later!" he said as he made his exit. The room was very quiet once the door had closed behind him.

I reached down to grab the burger, which was still slightly warm. I almost dropped it while unwrapping it, and considering the minor tragedy that would be, continued on more slowly. I also tried to eat as slowly as possible as I considered this would probably the high action point of the afternoon.

Even stretching it out to the extent I had licked every stray drop of sauce from the foil wrapper, that still left me lots of time. Once more, I tried to wait as long as possible to struggle with opening the water bottle, and -- a long time later -- with going through the whole process of taking a piss once more.

I went in and out of another burst of horniness, stretching out a fantasy where James was lending out his room key to a series of guys who came in to get their cocks sucked and piss down my throat, and eventually the daylight started quickly fading. It had just turned December, so that would make it about five o'clock, I figured.

After the sun set, it got dark out pretty quickly, and the room got murky and then equally dark. Except for the strip of light outlining the door to the hallway and the vague glow of a couple LEDs in the main part of the room I was without illumination, and that made time move even more slowly. It felt like several hours crawled by. Having to take one more piss -- in the dark, into the partially-full ice bucket -- was not a fun distraction. I was starting to feel another pressing distraction from my body as I realized there was no way I'd be able to take a dump in the ice bucket if I needed to.

After what must have been hours, I heard the door rattle and then open. I was dazed from the hallway light, though I did manage to notice that there was a couple walking past in the hallway as James came in. I doubted that with them in the light and me in the dark that they could have saw me, but the idea was a little bit hot anyway.

I remembered to close my eyes as James flipped the light on. But the first sound I heard was him unzipping his fly, so I had to open them to make sure my mouth was aligned to receive his piss once more. That done, he went into the bathroom. He did a careful wash-up, brushing his teeth and touching up his hair before he took a step over, lowering his pants. He proceeded to positively wreck the toilet. He turned his head and grinned at me as he did it, and laughed when he saw me wince as the smell hit me.

When he was done, he released the chain and removed the spreader bar, as well as the straps under my armpits, leaving only my wrists still cuffed to each other.

"You probably have some business to attend to," he said, his head gesturing towards the toilet. "You should get yourself washed up as well for the party."

Party? Am I going to get to do something?

He helped me get up and I tried to get my footing against a panoply of stiff muscles. I bent down to pick up the ice bucket, more than half-filled with piss, and shuffled into the bathroom. James closed the door behind me. "Jesus, try and keep that reek in there!" he said, laughing again.

I dumped the piss into the toilet bowl than quickly sat on the seat to let out the dump that I'd been holding back for a while. That brought its own sweet relief, though soon after I was faced with the conundrum of how to wipe myself with my hands cuffed together in front of me. In the end, I had to stand up with one leg resting on the rim of the bathtub and reach back between my legs.

Washing up was less complicated, but I managed to splash a fair amount of water around. At least that stripped away the remains of breakfast and lunch from my face. I dried myself off, wondering what I was supposed to do next. I figured without orders I might as well head over and let James tell me what to do.

James was on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV. I was surprised to note from the clock on the nightstand that it was past nine already.

James looked over at me. "We can head up at any time. Let's get you ready and we'll go."

He stood up and gestured me over to the desk. Facing it, I felt his hand on the small of my back and I took the hint to lean forward until my face was almost touching the desk, bracing myself with my arms.

He walked over and grabbed something from his bag. I caught the distinctive smell of a marker, and soon he was writing something across my back. When he was satisfied with his efforts, he let me stand up and he sat to put his shoes on.

"Alright, let's go," he said, heading over to the door. Unsure how this was going to work, I followed him. He held the door open, so I stepped past him into the hallway; luckily, there was no one in sight.

"Party's in room 2117," he said as he turned and started walking toward the elevator. "I'll meet you up there."