Room 233

He sat in the hotel lobby and watched the couple in the bar. The man was middle aged but slight, dressed in casual city clothes; the woman a few years younger, petite but curvy. They were talking earnestly, but seemed nervous.

He picked up his small suitcase and went to the elevators, then down the stale-smelling hotel corridor to room 233. He used his key card to enter, and flipped on the lights and put his bag on the desk. A standard room, like every other hotel, with a small suitcase already open on the bed. He looked through it, noting the selection of women's clothing, costume jewelry, and shoes, and a selection of men's neckties. He opened his bag, to lay his own props on the desk: a pile of nylon pantyhose, plastic zip ties, the toy weapon, small scissors.

He checked his watch, then turned out most of the lights, and went to stand near the door. When he heard the noise of a key card in the lock, he stepped back, into the closet area, and pulled a pair of nylons over his head as a mask. The door opened slowly, and the man from the bar walked in.

"Freeze, don't move!" He moved behind the man and put his toy weapon to the side of his head, with his other arm around the man's throat. "Do what I say, kid, or I'll fucking kill you." He moved hard, pushing the man forward, toward the desk chair. The man started to speak, and then realized it was safer to remain quiet.

With his weapon in hand, he pushed the man to the chair and quickly used a plastic zip tie to fasten first one wrist to the arm of the chair, then the other. More ties fastened his elbows and ankles to the chair, and then a pair of pantyhose used like a rope tied his body into the chair. He took one of the ties, a repp stripe silk Brooks Brothers navy and gold tie from the '90s, and used it to force the man's mouth wide, and then knot it behind his head, leaving him gasping and cheeks puffed out.

He stopped to look over his work, then checked his watch again and dragged the bound man and the chair next to the bed, out of sight from the door. He switched on more lights, and the TV with the sound low.

When he heard the tapping on the door, he stepped to the closet again, and then reached to swing the door open. The woman from the bar walked in quickly, looking toward the desk. "Hi honey, did you get my bag from the car? I wanted....Oh my God, what?!"

He was behind her quickly, with the fake weapon and his arm tightly around her neck. "Shut up, bitch, or I'll fucking kill you! I just came for the estate jewelry." He pulled her arms behind her, using a zip tie to lash her wrists together, and then wrapped a necktie over her eyes as a blindfold. He kept a tight grip around her arm as he used another tie to gag her. He held her and pushed her across the room, and into the one large armchair in the corner.

She was wearing the dressy outfit from the bar, a burgundy jacket and skirt, with a cream colored blouse, stockings and heels. He pushed her into the upholstered chair, with her bound hands behind her, and then used nylons to tie each of her elbows to the back legs of the chair, and her ankles to the front legs. With her legs wide, her skirt had ridden up to expose the tops of her stockings, and her chest was heaving as she breathed quickly in fear.

He took a step back, and smiled, checking his work, then looked at his watch. He turned to the man bound in the desk chair, whose eyes were wide now with fear and maybe excitement, after seeing him quickly tie the woman. He dragged the chair out into the room, giving the man a clear view of the bound woman in the large chair.

The only sounds in the room were the TV talk show in the background, and the hard breathing of the blindfolded woman, trying to listen for him somewhere in the room. He walked quickly back to her, as the other man watched with eyes wide, testing the bonds and finding he was unable to move.

He stepped over to the woman and leaned closer, so she could sense him nearby but not see him. Her breathing got deeper, and she struggled a bit against the ties. He used his hand to grip her chin. "You are doing well, just keep quiet, bitch, and you will be fine; you will both be fine." Her body tensed, she tried to struggle more, as she realized the other man was also there but unseen.

His hand left her chin, and trailed down her neck, into the V of her blouse reaching in to cup her breast. He took the jacket she still wore and roughly pulled it back, over her shoulders to pin her arms close to her body. Her chest thrust out, her breasts trembling. Without warning, he gripped her blouse and ripped it wide, buttons flying off, exposing her creamy skin and the white lace bra. His hands pushed her blouse wider, to cup around the bra, feeling the warmth and weight of her breasts and her nipples tightening under his touch. He slipped his fingers around the edge of the cups, to pull her bra down below her breasts, watching as they swayed when freed. Her nipples were pink and swollen, in spite of her humiliation.

He looked to the side, to see the bound man watching closely, his face red and his head shaking. He turned back to the woman, to push her skirt higher around her hips, his hand finding her panties. He stroked the nylon, watching her face, as he felt the cleft of her lips there and the soft warmth of her upper thighs. He tugged the panties down, then scissored them off. His hand cupped her exposed pussy, and the soft hair there. One finger slipped in, finding her wet, and her body responding in spite of her fear and her anger.

He moved to give the bound man a clear view, of the woman bound and exposed, restrained but with her body aroused. He stepped back, taking out a small digital camera to record the scene. Close-ups of the partially stripped woman, her breasts and legs, and wider views of the two of them, the bound man watching her but unable to do anything.

Smiling, he packed his props in the bag, and tied the small scissors to a necktie he looped over the bound man's neck. In a few minutes, he would find a way to reach them and cut himself free of the ties. As he went out of the room he smiled and hung the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. He wondered: would the woman be released right away, for a loving embrace? Or would she be kept blindfolded and exposed a while longer? Interesting options.

The elevator arrived with a chime, and he fished for his keys as the doors closed.