Ignominy

My nipples hardened as I realized that my semi-erect cock made the whole exercise even riskier. There would have been a chance that I could have gotten away with some lame excuse if I hadn't been hard, but there'd be no convincing anyone of my innocence with my above-average cock inflating under a ridiculous, sheer hankie. I thought about someone calling security if they caught me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

I turned to face the elevator and looked at the display over the doors; it was dark. I hadn't thought about how there might not be anyone using the elevator at all. I hadn't imagined the possibility, and I wasn't sure what I had permission from Chloe to do in that situation. I hoped that nobody from our floor would be leaving in the next few minutes.

I started to bounce my right leg as I balanced my weight on the other side. I'd always done it to self-soothe when I was feeling on edge. Each passing second felt like a minute, and each minute felt like an hour.

The display lit up; my leg stopped shaking. I felt like I was on the verge of freaking out. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. The number "5" appeared on the display. It had to be someone on their way out for the evening. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that it would being going to the ground floor.

I jumped into the air as something brushed against me; I instinctively covered myself with both hands. Someone darted in front of me and pressed the call button - my wife. She turned around gave me a wicked smirk before darting back towards the room.

"Remember, only one hand!" I heard her call as she disappeared.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought to myself. It wasn't fair; she had never talked about this being on the table. Then again, I didn't get to make any of the rules. That had been part of our agreement. I desperately thought about what I was going to say, but my mind went blank.

The number "4" lit up. I dropped my left hand to my side; I knew there was a good chance Chloe was still watching. I trembled for a moment. I took a deeper breath and tried to steady myself.

Ding!

The doors slowly began to open. I could see two young guys both staring down at their phones - a taller one and a shorter one. I guessed the shorter one was about five-foot-eight, while the taller one was about my height. They looked like they were in their early twenties. The tall guy was wearing a T-shirt from a local college. Just as I was thinking the doors would close without them noticing me, the short guy looked up from his phone and burst out laughing.

His friend glanced at him with a look of confusion. The short guy walked over towards the elevator and started to exit. His friend finally realized what was happening; he began to crack up as well. He followed his friend and they both exited the elevator. They prodded each other and whispered as they walked past me. I was already preparing to sprint towards my room as soon as they turned the corner out of the elevator area.

"What the fuck?" the tall guy said. "This isn't the second floor."

"Oh, shit," the shorter one said. "I guess we got off too early."

Clearly, they'd been distracted by something. I started to move towards the corridor as they looked at one another while also peering at me from the corner of their eyes.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" the short one asked.

I could tell they had both been drinking. I wasn't really surprised; I myself had spent most of my evenings in college with at least a buzz. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I tried to remember what I had been planning to say, as well as the instructions that Chloe had given me.

"Do you need some help, bro?" asked the tall one.

"I, um, I kind of got myself in a jam," I mumbled. "My wife and I are here celebrating our anniversary. She ran to a store across the street to get something while I was in the shower."

I paused for a moment. They both looked like this was hysterical to them. I wondered if they were less scandalized since guys at college are constantly doing stupid things that end up with someone being naked in public. I supposed that it was better they'd been in the elevator rather than a group of little old ladies.

"And then I heard a knock at the door," I continued awkwardly, knowing they didn't give a single shit about the details. "We had ordered champagne, so I decided to grab it before it got warm. I opened the door and stumbled outside when I bent down to pick it up. The door locked shut behind me, and I obviously don't have the key."

They both looked confused, as if they were trying to make sense of my barely-viable explanation. The tall one shook his head in disbelief and prodded the other one in the ribs with his elbow. He nodded towards the diminutive washcloth; they both burst into uproarious laughter again. Blood rushed to my face. I knew it was bright crimson.

"Bro, you must have been pretty excited about your evening with your wife," the short one said, alluding to my partial erection.

I stared down at the floor and didn't reply. I really wanted to bolt for the room, but I couldn't risk breaking the rules Chloe had set.

"How long until your wife gets back?' the tall one asked. "By the way, I'm Evan and this is Dylan."

"I'm Mason," I mumbled. "I'm not sure. Hopefully soon."

"Well, we were on our way to the gym," Evan said. "We wanted to lift for an hour before we hit up the clubs later. They have actual towels in the gym, instead of whatever it is you have there. Come with us and we'll give you one to cover yourself with. Then you can either go to reception for help or wait by your room for your wife."

I was surprised that Evan was offering to help. I hadn't imagined anyone would; it certainly hadn't been a part of any of my fantasies. I softly smiled, trying to convey my appreciation of the offer. I took a second to think about what Chloe would want me to do. I heard her voice say I had to be cooperative and follow the orders of anyone I met.

"Sure, Evan," I said. "Thanks for your help."

Evan walked over next to me and slapped me across the back. I jumped in shock as his large hand made contact with my exposed skin. Dylan had a less-than-enthusiastic look on his face. He appeared to be way more suspicious as to what was happening.

"The gym is on the second floor," Evan said. "Should we find the stairwell, or are you good with the elevator? I mean, you were planning on taking it earlier, I guess."

"Whichever you prefer," I said.

"Dude, just pick one," he said. "It doesn't matter to us."

Obviously, I wanted to take the stairwell, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to say that. Chloe hadn't really specified how much I was allowed to dictate what would happen when interacting with others. She had just said to follow others' lead and cooperate. I looked towards the corridor to see if she was there, but I didn't see her peeking around the corner or anything.

"I'll do whatever you say."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how bizarre they sounded. Anyone actually living the lie I'd spun would have just picked one of the options. Evan chuckled again and shook his head. He definitely thought I was a weirdo, but he seemed okay with it.

A knowing smile spread across Dylan's face. "Why don't we take the elevator," he said with a hint of maliciousness in his voice.

"Okay," I replied.

I took a few deep breaths to prepare myself for the ride to the next floor. I thought that, if nothing else, it would look like some hazing ritual. I wasn't so much older than them that it would be out of the question.

Dylan walked up to press the elevator call button. He leaned over and grimaced at it. I looked as well, but couldn't understand what was causing his response.

"Gross," he said. "The button is smeared with something disgusting. It's like someone sneezed right on it."

"I can't see anything," Evan replied.

"Mason, let me borrow that towel to wipe this off," he said. "I don't want to get sick from touching it."

"Dude, what..." Evan began, before Dylan shushed him.

I started to breath more rapidly. Dylan was staring at me, and Evan was staring at him. I was suspicious myself now but, unlike Dylan, I didn't have control over my actions unless I wanted to let Chloe down. I slid my left hand over my cock, as I extend my right hand to give him the washcloth.

"Here," I whispered.

"Thanks, bro," he said.

Dylan spent a few seconds wiping the button; he didn't even pretend it was truly dirty. He crumpled the washcloth in his fist and tossed it into the trashcan.

"Bro, what the fuck?" Evan asked.

"My bad!" Dylan said, as he slapped himself on the forehead. "I was on autopilot, I guess. Mason, you don't mind just covering yourself with your hands, do you? I really don't want to dig around in the garbage."

Asshole, I thought to myself. He definitely knew what he was doing. Evan, however, still seemed to be on a different wavelength. I tried to cup my cock and balls in my right hand to see how much coverage I had without the washcloth. I couldn't do it; the mounting hard-on made it impossible. I fanned my palm in front of my crotch. I could keep my dick out of view if someone was across from me, but not if they stood by my side.

"No problem," I said through gritted teeth.

"Cool," Dylan said as he pressed the button calling the elevator.

He walked forward and stood next to me so that I was sandwiched between them. We all looked at the elevator. My heart was racing in my chest. I seriously considered running away, but I suppressed the urge. My stomach was doing a somersault as the elevator approached our floor; I could see Dylan giggling.

Ding!

The doors started to part. I closed my eyes and prayed that nobody would be inside. I heard a rustling motion as Evan started to move. I opened my eyes to see he was entering the empty elevator. I tried not to betray my deep sense of relief. I followed them inside, and we positioned ourselves in the same order facing the door.

Evan hit the button for the second floor; the doors came together with a small noise. The inside was covered in a shiny, reflective gold surface which acted as a de facto mirror. Dylan lunged forward and hit another button; the elevator jerked to a halt. I took me a second to realized that he had pressed the 'emergency stop' button.

I felt like I was going to vomit. I knew that I should have gone back to the room. The further I had pushed myself, the more impossible it had felt to quit. It reminded me of something I had read about in college called a 'sunk-cost fallacy.' I knew that I wasn't going to turn back; I had faith that Chloe would bail me out if things went too far.

"Dude! What are you doing?" asked Evan.

"Just be quiet for one goddamn second, Evan!" Dylan replied. "Mason, I don't get why you are acting so self-conscious. You're clearly a good-looking dude. You should just own it, and stop trying to cover yourself up."

I made eye contact with Evan. He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. He'd been willing to pretend to believe my story and help me out, but somehow he was blaming Dylan's increasingly odd behavior on me. I couldn't really disagree with him, but I also couldn't give him what he seemed to want: the truth.

I thought about Chloe. I imagined myself going back to the room after this was over and recounting my journey. I could picture us having the most intense sex with one another as a sort of reward for us both.

I dropped my hand from in front of my dick; I clenched each one into a loose fist. My fingernails dug into my palms. Dylan's smiling reflection stared back at me from the gold-tinted elevator doors.

"Bro, what the fuck?" Evan whispered as he turned his head toward Dylan behind my back. "He's totally getting hard."

I couldn't believe he hadn't noticed sooner, since clearly Dylan had. I could hear the discomfort in Evan's tone. He sounded like he was about to jump ship, abandoning me to his erratic friend.

"He keeps staring at his reflection," Dylan said. "Maybe that's the issue."

I shifted my weight to one leg and started bouncing the other to calm myself. I tried to pretend that I wasn't in the elevator, like I was a child trying to ignore what was going on amongst the adults at a family outing. I felt worried and titillated; Dylan's demeanor was making me certain that I was going to be further humiliated. Evan's growing discomfort was hitting my buttons too. The idea of him throwing me to the wolves - one, in particular - was frightening and mortifying in all the right ways.

I continued to gaze at my large, naked frame in the reflection. I looked so exposed compared to the two fully-clothed young men standing by my sides. My cock noticeably twitched as I thought about what might happen next.

"Dude, if you like it so much, you should pose a little," Dylan said. "Give yourself a little show."

I was taken aback. I didn't believe that he wanted me to pose like a body builder in front of a mirror. I wasn't even entirely sure what he wanted in that moment.

"What do you mean, 'pose?'"

"I don't know. Just do anything, dude."

I went with the classic pose of lifting both of my arms and curling them to flex my biceps. I turned bright red as I watched myself. I looked so fucking stupid straining to make my arms bulge.

"You got nice biceps," Dylan said with feigned sincerity.

In that moment, I felt like I was starting to get Dylan. He was the wingman with the Napoleon Complex. He watched his taller, more attractive friends get all the girls and harbored a deep-seated jealousy. Guys like that had always hated me in college. I continued to hold my pose.

"Do you like your body?" he asked. "Are you proud of it?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "Do you still want me to keep posing?"

"You can stop," he said, and then let a pregnant pause hang in the air. "... After you go give yourself a kiss."

"What the hell?" yelled Evan.

"Just watch, bro," he said. "I'm trying to prove a point. I think this guy is playing some kind of game. Haven't you noticed that he basically does whatever I tell him to do? I don't think he can say 'no' to anything."

Evan and Dylan both fell silent. They stared at me like I was a lab rat. Dylan stared at me like I was his lab rat. My heart was pumping blood nonstop into my dick. I continued to flex my biceps. I knew that there was nothing I could do; Dylan had figured enough out, and had no intention of passing up the opportunity that fate had presented him.

I slowly walked towards the door. My legs trembled beneath me. I leaned forward towards the reflective surface. My fearful eyes stared back at me. I softly kissed my mirror image.

"He really did it!" Evan chortled.

I dropped my pose, since I had met the requirement of kissing myself. I continued to stand near the doors; I watched them huddle behind me in the reflection. I could hear some soft whispering. They separated and went back to their original positions.

"You go now," Dylan said.

"Um, come over here and lick my shoe," Evan said, chuckling.

I took the two steps needed to stand in front of him. I dropped to my knees. He was wearing a pair of tattered, black sneakers. I could feel their eyes drilling into the back of my head. The elevator was devoid of sound as they waited to see if I would comply. I extended my tongue and drug it across the toe of his right shoe.

"Fucking gross," Evan said. They both laughed at how I was debasing myself.

"Stand up and go make out with yourself," Dylan commanded, "but not a peck this time; really get into it!"

I popped to my feet and started to walk towards the door. I could practically feel the signals bouncing back and forth between those two bizarrely-connected parts of my brain. I was aroused because I was humiliated. For the moment, neither of my tormentors seemed to be focused much on my twitching cock, which was still around half-mast. I knew that if they started looking at it and talking about it again, the feedback loop would be complete. I'd be humiliated because I was aroused, and then aroused because of that. I had no idea what might happen then. It scared me, and that excited me too.

I took one step towards the doors, but then felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back.

"Use the side wall," Dylan said. "You'll be able to see yourself better."

I moved closer to my reflection. My lower lips trembled as I prepared to make out with my mirror image. My breath fogged the surface as I inched closer.

I started to slowly kiss the golden lips that stared back at me. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I placed them flat on the wall. I began pushing my tongue against the surface as I pretended that I was trying to stick it deep inside my own mouth. I closed my eyes and really started pressing into the wall. My nose hurt from bending awkwardly to allow me to ravish myself. The tip of my dick touched the cool metal surface. The sudden chill made the whole thing twitch. I barely suppressed the urge to shiver.

"This is too good," Dylan said from right by my side.

I opened my eyes again. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was recording me with his phone. I froze; I couldn't believe that he was filming me. It was humiliating enough to have the two of them watch, but thinking about them showing the video to their friends felt like too much. My stomach churned. I heard Chloe's voice again in my head instructing me to obey.

"Keep going," he said.

I closed my eyes and started again. Evan giggled from behind me; his conversion from Samaritan to slaver had happened rather quickly. I felt so embarrassed; this had to be the most humiliating thing I had ever experienced. I felt blood flooding into my cock. It had been a half-mast for too long; the surge of fear had pushed me over the edge.

As my dick engorged to nine inches, I felt it slap against the wall. I was too close to give it enough space, so it was bouncing back and forth against the surface with each passionate kiss I gave my reflection.

"He's totally hard, bro!" Dylan yelled.

"What a freak," Evan said with a tinge of disgust.

That was that. I knew I was done for.

"Does that feel good?" Dylan asked, as he held to camera near my face.

"Yes," I moaned, in between passionate kisses.

I wasn't sure specifically what he had been asking, but it didn't matter. I was caught in the loop. I wanted more.

"Fuck yourself," Dylan demanded.

I stopped what I was doing and looked directly at him. I thought I had misheard him. Evan was barely suppressing his laughter in the background.

"Stick you cock up between your abs and the wall and then fuck yourself," Dylan said, frustrated by my hesitation. "You can stop with the kissing. I want you to be able to watch yourself."

I pictured the mechanics of it in my mind; it was kind of like when I used to jerk off by humping my bed when I was younger, but standing up with a flat surface as resistance. My cock began to throb. Chloe was never going to believe what I had been forced to do in order to follow her orders.

I grabbed my dick with my right hand and positioned it so it was pointing upwards. The underside laid flatly against the smooth, gold surface. I started to slowly rock my hips. I glanced down to make sure I was following his instructions.

"Just like that," Dylan said as he repositioned his phone to get the best angle.

I gently thrusted up and down, like I did when Chloe and I fucked with her straddling my lap. I didn't think about fucking Chloe, though; I watched myself, and I watched Evan and Dylan as they continued to judge and humiliate me.

My dick looked like it was rubbing up against a carbon copy of itself. It made me horny to think about having a sexual doppelganger. I wondered if gay guys ever rubbed their cocks against one another when they were having sex. If they did, I suddenly understood why.