I arrived at my hotel room late in the evening, slightly (OK, maybe a tad more than slightly) drunk after a night out with the guys. It was a conference hotel in a big city, and most of the other guests were either colleagues or people from the same business as mine.

    So there I was, stumbling towards my bed when my eye caught a glimpse of something under the bed. Uh-oh, I thought. Housekeeping's messed up. I pulled out the offending item and found that it was anything but. It was one of my favorite items in the whole wide world: A pair of women's panties.

    Black lace, in fact. They looked really sexy and when I smelled them - yes, I'm one of those guys so if you find it gross you better stop reading right here - there was a strong whiff of cunt. Now I don't know about you but I love the smell of cunt in the evening. I love it so much that it turns me on.

    I undressed and lay down on the big hotel bed, pressing the front part of the pants against my nose and realizing that I was not just turned on. I was cum dumb. Damn. It was a while ago since the last time, but I would recognize that sensation anywhere.

    Now I can't speak for all men, but I reckon many of you will know what I am talking about here. If you've gone without jerking off or fucking for some days, your body craves sex so much that you feel high. Your thinking gets muddled. Every girl on the street looks sexy as hell, you get erections in the most inappropriate places. And you want to do stuff you would never normally consider. For instance, I was really cum dumb when I first visited a brothel.

    I'll never forget how good it felt to walk into a building feeling high on pure horniness, and paying a pretty girl a very reasonable sum for sucking my cock. That was one awesome orgasm, I tell you. Again, normally I would have chickened out. I mean, going to a girl I'd never seen before and shoving my dick into her mouth? Come on! But cum dumb me? Hey baby, bring it on!

    So anyway, there I was wanting sex. I opened my favorite escort search site and checked out the options. At that late hour they weren't super good. I clicked through the search results, and found a few that looked like my type: Blondes with big asses and tits. Not a man of sophisticated tastes, I know.

    The best looking one was called Ana, and I was ready to dial her number when I realized that I was even cum dumber than I had thought. It was like when you are really hungry, and you are offered a juicy burger and fries and then you suddenly have the urge for a hot curry instead.

    I checked Ana's list of services offered. All the usual stuff, like blowjobs, girl friend experience, massage, even anal. On most nights I would have been more than happy to have this beautiful young girl on her knees, ass in the air, ready for some butt action. But not tonight. I am kinky by nature (the panty sniffing might have tipped you off) and now I craved an escort with BDSM on her list.

    Sadly, there were none. So, no escorts to my room then. My backup option was to solve the problem myself. A quick jerk off would clear my mind in seconds, and ensure a solid night's sleep. By now my cock was rigid as a flagpole, and I was very close to just doing it the easy way.

    And then my stupid mind decided otherwise. I needed a stronger high. And if Amber or her colleagues couldn't help me, I had to do it myself.

I rummaged through my suitcase and found the implements I needed. A belt and two neckties, a plastic bag and a rubber band. All innocuous in themselves, but together - oh, man! The first tie I turned into a small loop, with barely enough room for both my hands to fit. That one would be my makeshift handcuffs. I made a slipknot at both ends of the second tie, and pushed my "handcuffs" through one of the slipknots, leaving a loop on both sides of the knot.

    Then I brought all my stuff along with the panties over to the bathroom door. The whole setup is much easier to do than to describe, but what I was trying for was this: I wanted to be forced to stand with my back to the bathroom door, belt tightly around my neck and hands tied behind my back. The plastic bag would go over my head, and the rubber band would work as a makeshift cock ring just for the heck of it.

    A classic predicament bondage scene, in other words. Or rather a self-bondage predicament scene. I had done self-bondage when cum dumb on previous occasions, sometimes involving a belt to simulate a hanging.

    And yes, I know this is really, really stupid. This is where I remind you to NEVER do this at home or any other place. Breath play, if you are into it like I am, must always be done with someone you trust. If you doubt me, just read this story to the end.

    But cum dumbness makes you ignore sane, rational ideas like safety and staying alive. So after I had secured the rubber band tightly around my balls and cock, I put the belt noose around my neck, raised myself on the tip of my toes and made sure the other end of the belt was over the top of the bathroom door.

    Then I leaned back. The door clicked shut, and now the belt was sandwiched between the door and door frame. It was stuck, and I was stuck with it. I lowered myself onto my heels, and felt the belt tighten. The fit was perfect, just enough to choke me if I moved by so much as an inch.

    I pulled the black panties over my head, with the cunt-smelling part right over my nose. This was followed by the plastic bag. It fit snugly over my head, and all pulled down it left a small gap around the neck which let enough air in. With the bag, I was almost totally blind and encased in damp, sticky plastic.

    I had fastened the tie with the slipknots to the belt around my neck, and now I could feel it tickle my back. About two thirds of the way down towards my butt the handcuff tie was dangling from its knot. Now I pressed my hands into the cuffs, one hand on each side of the slipknot. Once they were in, I paused for moment.

    Did I want to do this? No, said the rational part of my brain. This is stupid. This is dangerous. YES, cried the cum dumb part. After all, you're in a hotel room, it said. (I'll get to that part in a moment). The rest was easy. I pulled down hard with both hands, the lower slipknot tightened around the loop, closing the "handcuffs" and making them very hard to pull out of.

You have no idea how happy and horny I was at that moment. This was my dream setup: Almost bagged and hanged with a belt, hands tied behind my back, the smell of some random woman's cunt permeating my world. I looked straight down, and through a narrow opening I saw my rock hard with veins bulging, just waiting for someone to stroke it.

    I brought up the image of Ana from the web site, and imagined her standing there looking at me with disdain, as any good mistress should. She would humiliate me, taunting me for my stiff cock which I could not touch. She would take off her bra and drape it over my cock, forcing me to watch her incredible breasts without being able to touch them.

    Then she would move close to me, whisper humiliating words in my earn and let me lick one nipple. She would take off her pants and put them on my head, letting me inhale the dampness from sex she had just before she met me. Another client, much better looking than me. A real man, not some loser who got off on being hanged with his hands tied.

    This was it, the moment when I had to jerk off or I would explode. I pulled my hands apart quickly, to force the slipknot open. I could feel it move, and tried to pry one hand out. No go. I repeated the process with another jerk, and the other hand. The knot didn't budge.

    Shit. A wave of panic shot through me. I jerked and wriggled my hands, but got nothing. This time, I was really stuck. I would go nowhere, at least until... And that's when I remembered. I was in a hotel room, which has one huge advantage normal people never think of. If you get stuck in bondage or self-bondage, you will be found by housekeeping the next day. In my case it was guaranteed, as I had only booked the room for the night.

    At the outside, I would be forced to stand like this for twelve, fourteen hours tops. Actually, if I yelled for help when I heard people in the hallway, I could be free in minutes. But that would also alert reception, who would call police which would attract too much attention. In a hotel full of people I worked with on a daily basis.

    No, I had to wait for the cleaner. It struck me that this situation was exactly what many of my previous self-bondage sessions had simulated: A predicament I had no control over, with an element of discovery and humiliation. That part of it was really sexy!

    For a few minutes I just leaned back and relished in the delicious feeling of being super erect. You know, when your dick is all hard and ready to go, and you can feel it in your whole lower body. I caught a glimpse of my dick again, and it looked... well... almost scary.

And that's when it struck me. The rubber band was too tight, and I had to remove it as soon as possible. If I had used ordinary handcuffs, I might have been able to wriggle my hands far enough around my midriff to reach my crotch. Maybe. But my brilliant "cuffed hands tied to my neck"-idea had nixed that possibility.

    Then I remembered something a mistress I had submitted to once told me. She said that the only guys she allowed to be standing in bondage for hours on end, were top-notch athletes and men with experience from guard duty in the military. Needless to say, I was none of those. So not only did I face the prospect of losing my dick, but I might also die from hanging when my legs collapsed.

    I tried to pull myself free from the bathroom door, but as my neck was the only leverage I soon quit. All I accomplished was tightening the belt even further, which made my impossibly hard cock even harder but which also scared me shitless.

    There was no way around it, I had to call for help. By now it was really late, and most people would be asleep in their rooms. My only hope was that someone might pass by in the hallway.

    While I waited, I was able take my session with the wonderful Ana further. I've found that my imagination is most powerful when there is some overlap with reality. So fantasy Ana would not touch me, instead she would be the most infuriating dominatrix ever. Always just a fraction of an inch from actual bodily contact. 

    Amber was not finished with her perfect boyfriend. She talked in loving detail about how sexy she felt when he filled her with his cum, and how they laughed at the pathetic clients who paid for their lifestyle by not having sex with her. She showed me her ass, exposed her anus and described how her lover's cum would dribble out of it.

    She told me that if I was lucky, I would be allowed to drink from her ass or cunt one day. In the meantime, all I would be allowed to do was to jerk myself off in front of her. Which I would gladly do, if only my hands were free!

    My frustration reached a new peak when I suddenly heard a noise from outside. It was the sound of the elevator doors opening, a few rooms down. Then, clacking of heels against the floor, curious tinkling and squeaking of wheels passed by my door. It had to be an employee of the hotel. I heard the noise stop further down the hall, followed by a knock on the door and a woman's voice saying "Room service!"

    My heart racing, I waited for her to finish and start the journey back to the elevator. I had to time it just right to be sure that she heard me. The heels were approaching now, and as they passed by the door again I shouted: "Help! Please help me!"

    The noise stopped. Then, a knock on the door. "Room service," the voice came. "How can I help you?"

    "I'm in trouble in here, stuck. Could you enter and help me?"

    "Sure, sir." There was a click from the lock and I heard the door slide open. 

    "Oh my. What happened here, Sir?"

    The voice was pleasant. This was not a young woman, she sounded mature and experienced.

    "Did someone do this to you? I can call -"

    "Please," I interrupted. "No calls. I did this to myself. If you set me free and tell noone, you can take the money in the wallet on the night stand. All of it."

    I was suddenly very happy that I could not see her nor she me. This was embarrassing as hell, but thanks to that damned rubber band my cock was just as enthusiastic. I could only imagine how I looked to her.

    "Just take the money and cut me loose, OK? And tell nobody."

    "Of course, Sir." I heard her walk over the bed, then the rustling of paper.

    "OK," she said. "That's 300 dollars. Hooker money, Sir?"

    I nodded.

    "That's more than I earn in a week," she said. "I've always wondered what the hookers had to offer that was so valuable. Wanted to try my hand, actually."

    I felt her fingers grab my cock and slowly begin to jerk it.

    "So you wanted to be milked and bagged, is that how they say it?"

    "Yes," I croaked.

     She let go of my dick and put her hands around my neck. Quickly, she tightened the bag around my neck, then want back to jerking me off. 

    I felt the bag expand and contract with my breath, at the same time as she was slowly pulling me towards an orgasm. There was nothing more I could do than to go with the flow. Soon I felt the first twinges of asphyxia, and started to breathe faster.

    She noticed and increased her pace. I moaned and panted as she jerked me again and again until I came with a huge grunt. I felt my dick twitch and convulse as it emptied itself into her cupped hand.

    Then the bag was pulled open and up just and inch, and she said: "Drink your cum or I'll put the bag on and leave you here."

    There was nothing I could do. I stuck out my tongue and lapped my warm, slimy sperm from her hand. Then I waited, with the pungent taste of cum in my mouth, as she snipped me free with a pair of scissors.

    I kept the bag on until she had left the room, making sure that none of us would suffer the embarrassment of recognizing one another the next morning.

OK, so that last part about her milking me was pure bullshit. That's me mind fucking myself again.

    What actually happened was that she got the money, released me and then vanished into the night without ever showing her face.

    As for me, as soon as she had left the room I closed the bag around my neck with my left hand, inhaled the pussy smell of the panties and gave myself the orgasm that I had craved for more than an hour.

    And it felt great. I did not feel that I had wasted my money at all. I had been tied up, helpless, I had been released by a woman and I had shown her my dick at its most magnificent.

No matter what else happened, but that woman would never forget my magnificent, red rod!