Motel Mysterious

A BDSM Story by Harley Grant © 2004

Chapter 1: The strip club

I'd heard this was a good strip club. As I walked in, I had noticed a number of interesting looking women entertainers. Over the course of the next couple of sets I settled in. I watched the waitresses, and once I had figured out who was likely to be the smartest, I asked her about private dancers and did they have any special rooms?

"You can have a lap dance at your chair for $10, or one in the VIP room for $20."

Well, I knew there was some sort of private room inside the VIP room; I'd seen dancers and guys going in there. "What about that room inside the VIP room?"

She hesitated, then said, "that's for the bondage dances, you'll have to ask Karen about those."

"Who's Karen?" I said, looking around, my interest immediately piqued.

"Her." She pointed at a tall, attractive dancer idly working on a guy several chairs over. Her dancing wasn't that inspired, but the guy didn't look interesting, even from this distance I could tell he was some boorish businessman. Perhaps she was one of those who only came alive with a guy who was really paying attention to her.

I thanked the waitress, tipped her $5 and watched Karen. When she went to work on the main stage, I moved over, tipped her and watched her work. She seemed to put a bit more effort into it when she realized I was a fan. After her set, I gave her a minute to get dressed then approached her.

"Interested in a dance?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm interested in the bondage dance," I said, looking her in the eye.

She smiled. "You've been here before?"

"No, but the waitress told me about it, and I like bondage."

"Well, if you're into the scene…."

We walked arm in arm into the VIP area, paid the doorman and eventually went inside a secluded area inside the VIP room. She had me sit on a chair and put my hands behind my back, behind the back of the chair. She retrieved some handcuff and secured them to my wrists. I commented favorably to her on how they were the good kind of cuff, not the dime-store type and that she knew how to double-lock them.

"You are into this." She came around in front of me, and began the dance. It was pretty much a standard lap dance other than for her wandering hands. Also standard was the promise she whispered into my ear that if I paid more, came back a second time, it would get better. It never does, but we guys always fall for the idea that this is the dancer who really wants us.

After the dance I paid and thanked her. It was fun to be cuffed, but I certainly had done more intense scenes than that. I think she knew, because she said again that for "those in the scene" it could get better.

Over the next couple of hours, I sampled a couple of other dancers and got another bondage dance from Karen. "Third time's a charm," she said, and I nodded. Yea, sure.

Towards closing, I approached her and said I wanted another dance. I laid it on a bit about how I wanted more, the real deal, go farther. It was as much to let her know I knew her promise was BS as anything else. Let's see how she handles my accepting her fake invitation.

"We can do a lot more," she said and walked me into the little room again. This time, however, she looked around and then walked over to one of the sidewalls. There was a door there, one I'd assumed was just an emergency exit or storage room. She checked again to see that we were alone in the room and then opened this door and beckoned me in. She immediately closed the door after we were in the inner room. We were in a small bare room, with just a wooden chair bolted to the center of the floor and a cabinet against the wall behind the chair.

"Take off your shirt and sit down. I think you know where your hands should go."

Take off my shirt? Well, this was going to be a bit better, at least. I did so, sat down and soon found my hands behind my back being gripped again by cold steel. I could feel that these were the old style dungeon cuffs - thicker and easier to take for a longer period. I could also sense a chain from the cuffs. Sure enough, this chain was secured to something farther down on the chair. Now my hands were secure and I couldn't rise from the chair. I was actually a prisoner and I immediately started getting hard.

The dance was more intense, her rubbing firmer. Near the end she undid my belt, unzipped my fly and put her hands all over my cock. Man, I'll be back here every day.

"You are in the scene?" she breathed this in my ear.

"Yes, I am. That was a great dance."

"Oh, the dance is just beginning." And with that, she got up from my lap and abruptly left the room, shutting the door on her way out. I was alone, pants open, and I was cuffed to the chair. Now what? My cock was itching to be touched, but all I could do is rub my legs together.

I sat in the room, stuck on the chair for some time. I could catch a little noise from the main room, but it eventually quit. Music must be over. It was closing time.

The door opened, but the woman who entered was someone I'd never seen before. "Who are you?" I asked.

She ignored me and walked behind me to the cabinet. You'll think it odd that I didn't protest, yell, demand, ask more questions. I find it hard to talk as I get into a scene, and I wasn't really worried. Nothing ever happens at strip clubs.

Suddenly I felt a blindfold sliding over my head and blocking out all the light. "Hey," I said, "what's going on?"

"What's going on is that I'm going to ask you some questions. How much pleasure you get out of the next two days depends on how carefully you make your choices."

Two days? What? Before I could answer, she asked a question.

"Take a few seconds to think about the questions," she said, "then answer them as honestly as you can, this will determine what happens to you. Here is your question again." And she repeated it.

The question was about my preference for a particular type of BDSM activity. I answered. There were more offering choices between activities and asking for my preferences. The questions were a bit unusual but interesting and I had to think. Sometimes after an answer there would be a pause and I could here papers being shuffled.

After a number of questions, I heard. "Very good. Follow as you are led." Well, I'm still tied to the chair, so how am I going to follow?

My only answer was to find a ball gag sliding into my open mouth and being secured behind my head. I head the door open and someone else walk in. Karen? Same rhythm of heels, could be. The chain securing my cuffs to the chair was loosened, and I was told to stand up. As soon as I was standing hands were pulling my pants and shorts down.

"Step forward," I was commanded and obediently stepped out of my clothes. What else was I going to do? I was naked. I felt the chain from the cuffs down my butt and legs, and it soon became apparent that this was attached to leg irons, for I felt them being secured around my ankles.

"This is my favorite part," I heard one of the girls say and the other giggle in reply. I guess she was referring to the collar being secured around my neck. A gentle tug, and I was walking - to somewhere. We navigated out the door, and back towards the main part of the club. I guess, I didn't see any other doors on the way in, but I suppose we could have gone through another hidden door.

After some walking, I felt a hand on my chest and heard an order to stop. "Check, see if it's clear." That was said to someone else. I heard a door open and cooler, fresher air waft in. "Yea, it's OK." "Come on."

Again we started walking, outside! I'm sure glad they checked to see if it was OK, but that was probably as much for their safety as mine. I heard a car door open. "Duck your head." I bent over and was guided into what I guess was the back seat of a car. "On the floor." I shuffled, wiggled and got on the floor, a bit awkwardly. Ever try that with your hands behind your back and not being able to separate your legs very far? Even falling down is hard in bondage.

I was on the floor, wedged in between the back of the front seats and the back seat. I head the door open right by my head. At the other end, I felt a rope being pulled around my ankles and it being made fast, securing my legs closely together. At the head end, someone was taking my leash and securing to the base of one of the front seats, thus keeping me from being able to raise my head. After my ankles were tied, the person from that side passed a rope under my knees and drew them together, fashioning a snug tie above my knees.

Then something unexpected happened. The woman near my head took off my blindfold and undid my ball gag. "Can't let you suffocate. And you're not going anyplace." With that a blanket was unfolded and used to cover me, the doors were shut and locked and I heard someone getting in the driver's seat. In a moment we were off. It's an odd feeling having your head on the floor of a moving car. You hear the road noise, sense the road so close to you. You feel all the bumps as well.

But it was peaceful and safe under there, would that surprise you? Snug in my hole, all tied up, no decisions to make, no worries. Here I was being kidnapped by people I didn't know, going someplace with no clothes, car keys, wallet or anything. I was totally at their mercy. So why wasn't I worried? Because something in me responded to this, wanted it, needed it. I'd spent much of my life trying to understand that, and simply trying to experience it. Perhaps my peace came from knowing that I was at last, at long last, in the hands of professionals.

I don't know how long the drive went, but eventually I felt the car leave the highway, slow, make more frequent turns. It seemed like we were turning into some parking lot. Finally, we stopped. The driver got out, was gone for a minute or two then came back. We started up again and drove just a few seconds before parking. She got out again, was gone for a few seconds then came back and opened the door at my head and unhooked my leash. She reapplied my blindfold. "Be still for just a minute, then we're getting out."

She went around to my feet, opened that door, and united my knees and ankles. "OK, time to get out. Let me help you." It is almost impossible to get up from that position with my hands still cuffed behind my back. I hunched up my legs and tried to lever my upper body onto the seat. She helped me and then helped me scoot out the door, feet first. I slowly came to a standing position.

"Hurry," she said and tugged at my leash. I shuffled forward and she guided me across the pavement and up one step and then, judging by the reflected noise in my ears, through a door. "Back in a second." And she left.

She was back very soon and took off my blindfold. I was in a motel room. I looked at her. It was Karen from the club. I smiled. "Thank you," I said, for no reason a normal person would think of.

She smiled back, a dazzling smile and stepped forward and gave me a hug. "I knew you were in to this from the first dance. Poor baby, you thought all you were going to get was a shitty lap dance, didn't you." She stepped back, looking at me.

Suddenly, I became aware of my real situation: I was naked, cuffed, in a strange place. I looked around.

"Oh, don't worry, no one saw you come in, we checked. We've chosen it carefully. Now, we sort of broke the mood with that hug. What I was supposed to do was to tell you that you had a choice. You have five seconds to decide if you want to go ahead. If you do, its all weekend. If you don't, I'll take you back to the club, all is cool. If you go ahead, we promise your car and clothes and stuff are all safe, but you won't get back to them till Sunday night.

"I'll stay," I said, looking at her.

She smiled. "Turn around." I did and she unhooked all my bondage. "You'll find some clothes in the bathroom. Put them on and lie down on the bed, face down. In no more than three minutes someone will be here and the real fun begins."

"It's not you?" I said, sounding really sad, because I was.

"I might be back. My tastes run a little different than you, but you seem like fun. Maybe. Maybe not." With that she turned, said "three minutes" over her shoulder and left. I could here her get in the car and drove off.

Three minutes. I moved quickly to the bathroom rubbing my arms. In the bathroom, hung up on the hooks were a bra and girdle. They were the old big white style, thick and heavy. Nothing else in sight, hope they fit. I pulled on the girdle and it fit, barely. The bra took longer for me to hook on, and I hurried back to the main room. I looked around a bit, caught a glance at myself in the mirror, big guy, in massive white "foundation garments." I was getting hard, my cock rubbing against the fabric. Lying down seemed like a good excuse to rub, so I hopped on the bed and started grinding my hips into the mattress.

I was in a hotel room somewhere, with no clothes, no money, no car, and no idea what was going to happen. Lucky me.