Parisian Rendezvous

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Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Parisian Rendezvous

Part 1. Briser la glace

She finished applying her make up in the mirror, and took a deep breath in. “You can do this” she mouthed to herself. Her heart was pounding, with excitement more than nerves, yet the nerves were still there.
She put her glasses on stood up and walked over to the full length mirror, she looked at her reflection, she looked every inch the part, stiletto heels, stockings which were held up by suspenders which attached onto a turquoise silk basque she had on, she had decided to wear the lingerie that he had sent her, the basque matched a slinky pair of silk French knickers which were ruffled across the bum. Atop her underclothes she wore a short business like skirt that finished just above her knee. And a white blouse over the top of her basque which was cut low, but not slutty low, it had a ruffles around the neck line, around her neck hung a small pendant, in the shape of a heart, a small diamond sparkled at it’s centre.
She studied her own face, smiled, then nodded, her visage changing noticeably she looked firmer, hard, cold, stern.
She picked up her large leather hand bag, and room key and stepped out into the hotel corridor, she walked the short distance to the elevator, and pressed the call button, while she waited a small, slimy looking guy approached and stood patiently for the elevator to arrive, he looked at his watch and tutted. She tried not to pay attention to him, but he was that kind of sweaty, seedy looking travelling salesman type. She hated men like this, she seemed to have a habit of attracting them like flies buzzing around her, each one with a different line that they were convinced would have her chomping at the bit to get her knickers off for him. If only they knew who or what they were trying to seduce. She had a sudden disturbing flash of imagination, and Mr. Sleaze was crawling on his hands and knees towards her, nose hooks pulling his head back, attached to an ass hook, sweat pouring off his face, and drool pouring from his ring gagged mouth as he strained to reach her outstretched toes with his tongue, she was nearly sick at the thought of allowing such a man any where near her feet. She would really have to learn to control her imagination, one of these days it was going to make her lose her lunch.
No doubt some of these so called men would be cumming in their boxers if they realised what she got up to in her private life, but she doubted that most of the men that approached her would ever fit into the role she liked men to play.
The elevator doors slid open with a ping, they both stepped in, she could see him eyeing her up in the mirror at the back of the elevator; and decided now would be a good time to check her phone. Room 217 the text said, she pressed the 2 for the second floor, and waited as the lift took her up a floor, unfortunately, Mr. Sleaze got off on the same floor, god she hoped this wasn’t him. She was beginning to regret accepting to meet him at this stage in the relationship, but it was too late now, they had both flown to Paris to meet up, a half way point for both of them. But, she hadn’t even seen a picture of him, she could feel the perspiration starting to form on her neck, and she had to snap herself out of this sudden bout of nerves, reaching room 217, she was relieved to see Mr. Sleaze carry on walking. She stood in front of the door to 217, she couldn’t believe that she was afraid to knock on the door, she had been messaging H for months now, but for some reason they had agreed not to share pictures, she had spoken to him on the phone many times, they knew each other so intimately yet at the same time they were complete strangers, she still found it hard to believe that she had come so many times because of the words H had typed, yet she had never felt his touch, or seen his face. She reached into her bag and brought out a bottle of perfume, she gave herself a quick squirt and placed it carefully back in her bag, she straightened her skirt, pushed her glasses back up her nose. She rallied in her mind, her thought turning to the fact that behind this door was a man she had complete control over, his cock locked up in a bonded polycarbide chastity cage, the poor boy couldn’t even get hard. Oh the times over the last three months he had begged her to let him take it off, and each time she had told him to fetch the key and slide it into the lock…each time she had told him to fetch his fleshlight, each time she had told him to take out his arousal gel, each time, she had made him beg and plead to her over the phone and every single time….she had whispered down the phone to him….. “Not until Paris my boy”. Every time the poor boy had wept with frustration as she told him that if his balls were aching for her then he should be happy, and that the only release he was getting was a milking with his prostate massager every two weeks, and that frankly he was lucky to be getting that. She smiled to herself, dropping that stern exterior for a second, before the regained her steely composure, and rapped her knuckles on the door, four times, just like they had agreed…..
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde

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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by SexualChoc »

It took me a bit to figure out what a
bonded polycarbide chastity cage
was!
it sounds WAY better to write it that way then cb-2000
or some similar small hard plastic device you were thinking of.

Is there going to be more to this story?
all2true
is my other profile. see my chastity belt link :
http://www.milovana.com/forum/viewtopic ... 16#p139016
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

More on the way SC, I intend it to be a continuing story.
Part two should be ready for tomorrow evening, can't promise anything though :-)

and bonded polycarbide isn't just a random word my brain picked out hehe, though i'm pretty certain no one makes cages of this material :lol: It is a discreet Easter egg in fact, there are a couple of others dotted through the story.
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde

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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Part 2. préparer le sol

He lay on the bed the laptop resting on his knees, he stared at the instruction on his email for possibly the fifteenth time.

“Be ready for 7pm order the following things from room service and ensure they are there by the time I arrive:
· A Large Pepperoni Pizza
· Caviar
· A selection of sandwiches
· A Selection of cakes
· A chilled bottle of Domme Perignon”

He noticed that she had deliberately misspelled that…the instructions continued:

“Once you have place the order you will put on your knickers and your nipple tassels, you will write <name deleted> slut on your chest. This is how you will answer the door. To both the room service, and myself when I arrive.”

He took a sharp intake of breath, he knew that she liked to humiliate him, but this was different, she would actually be here this time to tell him what a fool he looked, and to laugh at him.
“I want the room orderly and tidy for when I arrive, the food will be laid out on your table, and the toys that I required you to bring will be laid out on the bed, no more than 4 inches apart and no closer than 2 inches together. You will be knelt in front of the sofa, waiting for me to arrive, I will knock four times, you will crawl to the door and unlock it, then take a step back and kneel before I enter, just like you have been trained to do.”

She had specified he book a suite for their use, and a separate room for her to arrive in a day before he did, once they had got over meeting for the first time and their first real play together, she would decided if he would have the pleasure of sleeping at the foot of her bed. He shivered wondering what she would do with him if he did not earn that right, what if she made him sleep in the room he had booked on the first floor, she might make him walk there in nought but his lace knickers and nipple tassels.
He looked at his watch, it was five thirty. He leaned over and lifted the phone from the bedside table, rung through the room service, requesting it be here at six fifty and no later.

He decided to get the room ready, he had only been here an hour or two, but he had already made a mess, his clothes strewn on the bed, he hung them in the wardrobe and packed anything he didn’t need back in his case and put it tidily next to the bed. The toys and his “uniform” already laid out on the bed.
He decided there was time for a shower, he padded into the bathroom, and leaned into the shower turning it on, while it warmed up he grabbed his shaving kit. He stepped under the warm stream of water, it ran all over his body, he could feel the little streams of water dribbling through the cage sealed around his cock, this had been pretty much the only stimulation his cock had been given in the last three months. He took the padlock in his hands and fiddled with it a little as he relaxed under the shower. Then with his razor he carefully made sure that he hadn’t missed any unwanted hairs <name deleted> liked him hairless from the nose down, no beard, no armpit hair, no nothing. He was completely smooth, just as <name deleted> liked him. Shaving around the cage was the most difficult part, he had to carefully, pull it away from his body, stretching his poor nut sack just so he could reach the rebellious little hairs that grew where they were not wanted.

After towelling off he stared into the mirror in the bathroom, naked apart from the polycarbide cage that enveloped his cock, held in place by a ring around his balls, he had not taken it off in 93 days. Over three months locked inside this plastic prison. He studied his face, he could see the fear and excitement in his own eyes. He remembered back to the moment he first spoke to <name deleted> in the chat room, he had loaded it up and stumbled blinking into the light asking the room if there was a domme there for him. He was met with mockery, and disdain, but one user took him under her wing, she had explained how he was unlikely to find a domme like this. Over the coming weeks they had become friends, thoughts of finding a domme in the chat room had faded after a couple of months, and he simply enjoyed the company he found in there, he satisfied his submissive needs by doing web teases and fantasising about having a mistress. He had even thought about visiting a pro domme, and had even found one in the city, but had never plucked the courage to book a session, let alone spend 200 euros on it.
Then in one innocent conversation with <name deleted> about chastity belts, she had told him to fetch his and put it on. He was so stunned that she had asked, that he went and fetched it without hesitation, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she was planning to domme him, she said, “oh just try it on and we can see if you can get hard.”
She was his friend, one of his best friends, and with seven simple words that relationship had entered a chrysalis, and began to morph into the one it is now.
“That Stays On, Until I Say Otherwise.”
It had not been off since.
Over then following few months she had teased him mercilessly, ringing him up and making him listen to her have multiple orgasms using her Hitachi. Sending him long emails describing the intricate details of her lingerie collection, ordering him to buy the lace panties that were laying at the end of the bed. In three short weeks, she had broken him with nothing but words and a pair of frilly knickers.
As they reached one month of playing she started getting him to buy toys, by the end of the second month, he had amassed quite the collection of tools designed to give pleasure or give pain: Nipple clamps, pin wheels, prostate massagers, ball gags, ring gags, dildos, plugs, and bondage rope. He wore a discreet collar for her, a small heart shaped pendant with a diamond at it’s centre, she wore one too. She said it made them linked, even though they lived far apart.
It made him feel owned.
Oh how he had begged her to let him come, to let him touch his poor incarcerated dick. His mind floated back to a long hour of begging, where he cried and pleaded down the phone to her while she came time and again, describing in every detail what her delicate fingers were doing to her delectable pussy, it was after she had come for the twelfth time in that hour that she told him to fetch his key and some arousal gel. Tears of frustration streaked down his cheeks as she told him to unlock the padlock, with strict instructions to leave it hanging from the locking mechanism of his cage. She proceeded to describe how she oiled herself up, rubbing baby oil into her skin, before going into intricate details about how she would sit on his face, her wet pussy pressed against his face. She had asked him if he would like that, if he would like to have her straddle his face and use him. He begged her to do it, to let them meet for real. And she had said: “Only if you lock that cock away for me, and keep it locked I will be the next person to touch it.”
He squirmed on the bed, his cock trying to get hard, he was hoping that she would make good on her promise and that in a couple of hours he would be hard at work with his nose buried in her pussy…
A knock on the door broke him from his thoughts of the past and hopes for the future.
“Monsieur? Room Service”
The waiter knocked again. H jumped up remembering <name deleted> orders, he quickly slipped on the knickers and clipped the tassels to his nipples, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he looked ridiculous, and now he had to open the door.
Taking a deep breath he pulled the door handle nearly wrenching the door off it’s hinges, his nerves making him forget his strength.
The waiter stood there stunned, the trolley of food next to him.
“Just put it all out on the table please” H said, blushing several shades of red.
The waiter was visibly flustered and quickly left, H felt bad because he couldn’t even tip the poor guy.
H shut the door behind the waiter and went and arranged the toys and food as <name deleted> had ordered. Then he kneeled gingerly in front of the couch. He closed his eyes and drifted into a day dream again remembering back to the things he and <name deleted> had done over the past three month..
He remembered the first time she had milked him with the prostate massager. He even remembered going into the sex shop to buy it, oh how he had blushed that day.
She had sent him to the shop with a letter she had posted to him with instructions not to open it, but to hand it to the shop assistant when he got there.
He remembered the look on her face as she read it, she smiled at him, not a friendly smile, almost pitying, almost mocking him. She crumpled the letter in her hands and tossed it in the trash before fetching the massager from the shelf. She hadn’t said a word to him other than to tell him the price and accept payment. He left the store bewildered and not exactly sure what he had purchased, he had a good look at it when he got home. And when <name deleted> called him later that night she had explained what the letter has said. To his horror, the letter had told the shop keeper that H was the slave of an online mistress and was to purchase a good prostate massager, as he was caged and unable to cum like a real man. He blushed now just thinking about it.
He was awoken from his daydream by four loud purposeful knocks on the door.
His cock suddenly filled the meagre space allowed by his cage.
She was here.
He began the crawl to the door, the padlock rattling against the cold hard polycarbide of his cage. Reaching the door he took a deep breath, this was it, his cage throbbed as it it contained and prevented anything like a real erection. “You can do this” he mouthed silently to himself. He reached up and unlocked the door, then settled back down a few feet from the door, kneeling legs spread, arms locked behind his head, and chest thrust out, he closed his eyes and waited…it was in the darkness that he realised he had forgotten something. Panic struck him and his eyes became wide, light flooding back into his world, just in time for him to see the door slowly open…..
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde

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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Snoopy76 »

Loving it Banq - please continue, is just sooo mmm.

Well done you, what an amazing talent for writing and some great forum teases this week, you are on fire!

Go Banq!

Snoopy x
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

:book:

Thanks Snoops, I have been working on part's 3 & 4 all week, but wasn't able to do much the last couple of days. hopefully there will be more parts added to the thread by this time next week :-D

So watch this space.

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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Part 3. Grande respiration

She stepped in through the door and gently closed it behind her. The hotel suite was laid out in front of her, a short corridor formed an entrance hall and she could see a bedroom and living area with large balconettes and windows. Rain lashed against the glass. The room was silent apart from the rush of the wind and rain crashing against the windows. Kneeling before of her was H, as she had commanded eyes cast down, perhaps he could catch a glimpse of her stilettos at that angle, she hoped he could. She studied his body, as yet unable to get a good look at his face. He was thin, the kind of weedy, not a perfect body, but she was never into the buff kind of man, imperfection she had always thought showed a kind of reality that is so often missing in the shallow and arrogant pretty boys who spent far too much time in the gym, and no where near enough time reading. H was dressed just like she had ordered. The sparkly nipple tassels, his little black lacy knickers barely contained his caged little cock. She was about to let him look up at her, when she noticed that he did not have her name emblazoned across his chest. She had to think for a moment how to deal with this insubordination, afraid she would blurt out something stupid, or that her voice would catch in her throat, she sighed, disguising a deep intake of breath, and in these few short seconds decided his fate. Tutting she settled her handbag down on the floor, and steadied herself with her hand against the door, then extended her left leg out so her foot came close to his mouth, and held it there, finally banishing any last minute nerves that still pervaded her mind she spoke…
“I was going to allow you to greet me by worshipping my feet, but it appears you cannot even follow the simplest of instructions, what have you forgotten H?”
Her voice came out better than she had hoped, she had been worried her natural Barry accent would come out making her sound brassy, or that it would crack halfway through the sentence. Instead she had managed a demure and authorative, almost posh accent.
H began to raise his head to answer, and she quickly hooked her foot around the back of his neck forcing his head to remain bowed and his eyes to be averted from her.
“Did I say you could look up?”
There was a long pause, before H finally stuttered out his answer.
“n-n-no Miss, sor-r-r-ry Miss, I seem…. to have forgotten to…. write on myself for you”
Her legs were starting to get tired so he took her leg from behind his neck, and stood on two legs again.
“Well, go and do it then.”
He motioned to stand up.
“Ah ah ah, who said you could stand up? And don’t even think of looking at me, you need to earn that right since you were too stupid to be ready for me as I asked.”
H kept his head low as he crawled from the entrance hall of his suite back into the bedroom area. She could hear him rummaging around, and then a brief period of silence, she decided to herself that he would have to be punished, she just did not know how yet. She didn’t even have a plan for how this scene was going to play out, she had figured she would do it on the fly, she didn’t even know if this was going to work the same in real life yet. Usually she planned everything meticulously, she had a leather bound notebook full of ideas and schemes for H going back the full three months. But how could she have planned for this. The butterflies had returned to her stomach and she was once again starting to doubt she could do this. Her moment of doubt and silence was suddenly shattered by the stilted speech of H.
“p-p-please Mistress, may I look up and see you now..”
His pleading and submissive nature had not banished the doubts in her mind, but it had given her a little boost.
“Yes, look up and see the face of the woman who owns your cock.”
He slowly raised his head, and with a little whimper, looked straight into her eyes. He looked so nervous, almost afraid. His eyes looked watery as if he were already about to cry. And she hadn’t even spanked him yet. Their eyes met for a short while, both gazing into each other. <name deleted> had read somewhere once that if you make eye contact with a dog you should not break it, as it would be a sign of submission, she held the gaze before telling H to look away. She closed her eyes for a second and took a few deep breaths. Stepping over H she made her way into the living area to inspect H’s preparations; the food she had told him to order up was laid out neatly on the table, and his array of sex toys were lined up precisely as she had told him on the bed. She made her way around to the sofa and lowered herself into the soft leather.
“Come here boy”
Her voice came out firmly and confident, not harsh or commanding, but comforting like an owner calling her pet for a treat.
“And don’t forget to crawl”

****

Part 4 will follow shortly

Banquo
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Snoopy76 »

Snoopy looks around and stamps her feet waiting for Part 4!

:lol: :please:

Snoopy x
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Snoopy76 wrote:Snoopy looks around and stamps her feet waiting for Part 4!

:lol: :please:

Snoopy x
:construction: I'm working on it :-) won't be long, just been a little busy with this and that, it isn't far off done now so maybe just maybe it will be ready by the weekend.

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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by teacup »

Soooo yummy and wonderfully written.... I look forward to the next part. :)
" I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!"
~Emily Dickinson


-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all,
One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
~ J.R R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better. It's not.”
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Snoopy76 »

Errrrrr 4444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444??????
“It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure.” Marquis de Sade
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Snoopy76 wrote:Errrrrr 4444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444??????
I know, I know :lol: Sorry for the delay, it's on it's way, just have a bit of writers block snoops

:hmmm:

Shouldnt be tooooo long now

Banquo
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by shell »

*smiles as I enter this little space of yours.....*

Having read through these......I have to say........very, very good!!! *big smile*
You are an excellent writer!!! I enjoyed this, very much. And I like the others are waiting.

Do you need motivation to write part four? Perhaps no orgasm until it's written might do the trick. *wicked smile* What do you think, boy...will that give us what we are waiting for?
Or perhaps this will work.....try sitting down to write.....with that peg, you know the one...the one with teeth on it...right in the center of your balls. Surely that would motivate words to rise from the depths of your inner most being. *wicked smile*

So.....do you move forward with part four on your own.....or do you need me to order the above, to you? *Wicked smile*

Oh and don't forget to update your "The Banquo Story Thread" thread. *Smile*
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

Rencontre son regard

He looked at the grain of the carpet, this was a classy hotel so the redcurrant carpet was meticulously clean, in front of him was his domme, a woman he had never met, never even seen, he could smell her perfume now as she took a step closer towards him, it’s sweet aroma filling his mind with such thoughts. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, she had sent him orders to prepare for her arrival, and he had not followed them. His chest was bear, where her mark should have been written.
His vision was distracted from the carpet by the point of her stilettos just within his upper field of vision, he wanted to look up, to see her legs, her body, and to finally look upon the face of the woman who for three months had kept him in strict chastity.
Finally the silence was broken.
“I was going to allow you to greet me by worshipping my feet, but it appears you cannot even follow the simplest of instructions, what have you forgotten H?”
His brain froze for a moment, he felt like he had failed her already, he knew what he had done, he just couldn’t get the words out.
“n-n-no Miss, sor-r-r-ry Miss, I seem…. to have forgotten to…. write on myself for you”
There was another pause, was she going to punish him, would she simply walk out and leave him waiting even longer for release.
“Well, go and do it then.”
The order lifted H’s heart, he started to get up so he could go and write her mark on his chest.
“Ah ah ah, who said you could stand up? And don’t even think of looking at me, you need to earn that right since you were too stupid to be ready for me as I asked.”
His head went down again and he shifted his body crawling back into the living area of the hotel suite. The thick carpet creating friction as he shuffled his way over to the bed. He quickly found his sharpie pen and wrote <name deleted’s> Slut on his chest. The ink felt cold on his skin and it’s acrid smell filled his nostrils. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. This was really happening, this wasn’t just some online thing any more, it was real. And he still didn’t know what she looked like, he bowed his head and crawled back into the entrance hall, the pattern on the carpet his only guide for when to stop. He was desperate to look up at her now, as he knelt before her, his eyes downcast, he could see her feet, and the bottoms of her slender legs. There was a tense moment where not a word was uttered between them, the only sound was the hum of the air conditioner. He couldn’t take the silence any more, and his mouth engaged without really thinking, he stuttered out:
“p-p-please Mistress, may I look up and see you now..”
Another few seconds past and the fear grew in his belly, was this disrespectful? Would this sudden outburst earn him additional punishment? What if she kept him locked up the whole time??? He kept his eyes cast down. Then she broke the new silence:
“Yes, look up and see the face of the woman who owns your cock.”
He looked up, and saw the face of <name deleted> such beauty he had never seen, not the kind of dramatic airbrushed beauty that you see plastered on advertising boards the world over, but a simple, natural beauty, her hair pulled back, she wore a smart business suit, and looked oh so authoritive, he could not help but smile, as they held each others gaze for a few moments, not saying a word. It felt like an eternity, his heart racing as he knelt in front of her in just a pair of panties and some nipple tassels. He did not care how ridiculous he looked anymore, he was just in awe of his Mistress, as she stood over him. His heart almost broke when she told him to avert his gaze, how could he bare to look at anything else in the presence of such beauty. How he managed to look away was a mystery to him, later he had figured that this was the ultimate sign of his submission to her, doing something for her that he really did not want to do. Acceding to her dominance, and letting her take control.
The rest was just a blur, he can remember her stepping over him, the strong scent of her perfume as she brushed over him, but he was gone, lost to subspace.
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde

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Banquo
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Re: Parisian Rendezvous

Post by Banquo »

shell wrote:*smiles as I enter this little space of yours.....*

Having read through these......I have to say........very, very good!!! *big smile*
You are an excellent writer!!! I enjoyed this, very much. And I like the others are waiting.

Do you need motivation to write part four? Perhaps no orgasm until it's written might do the trick. *wicked smile* What do you think, boy...will that give us what we are waiting for?
Or perhaps this will work.....try sitting down to write.....with that peg, you know the one...the one with teeth on it...right in the center of your balls. Surely that would motivate words to rise from the depths of your inner most being. *wicked smile*

So.....do you move forward with part four on your own.....or do you need me to order the above, to you? *Wicked smile*

Oh and don't forget to update your "The Banquo Story Thread" thread. *Smile*
I am glad you are enjoying my stories Mistress *bright smile*

Sorry to everyone for the delay in part 4, truth be told it has been virtually finished for a week or two I just needed that extra little nudge to motivate me to break my writers block. *giggles* Thank you for that Mistress. No additional incentives needed :blush:

I will start part 5 as soon as I figure out where I will take these two individuals next. I have a couple of ideas bumping around my skull, so we will see :hmmm:

Banquo
~x~
:fez:
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde

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