Room Service

11. Cleaning up

After instructing Mike to fasten up the front of his shirt as best he could, the security chief had him follow the porter and his luggage out into the corridor, until they reached the nearby lift.

“Hand over the camera!”  he demanded the moment the doors closed behind them, nodding in the direction of his hand-luggage, which the porter had stacked on top of his suitcase.

After checking his passport and plane tickets were still safely stowed inside his bag, Mike sullenly parted with his expensive camera along with his only remaining record of his steamy encounter with the young waiter.

“And the cash you promised Rajan!” Vinesh added offhandedly, as he examined the cam and sought to figure out how to switch it on. 

Knowing he had little option but to co-operate, Mike took out the envelope containing the wad of Indian notes he had planned to spend at the airport.

“Give it to the porter!” his adversary added with distaste, as the lift doors opened on the third floor, seemingly not wanting to dirty his hands with the money the Englishman had used to seduce his protégé into becoming his sex slave. 

There, after a brief exchange of words on the landing, the porter departed with his luggage and his money in the direction of the pool, leaving his boss to usher the uneasy businessman through the fire door and out onto the deserted emergency stairs, where the smell of stale urine greeted them.

“I also believe you are responsible for this!” Vinesh challenged, halting in front of the pool of piss which still adorned the floor and was now tainting the entire staircase with its odour.

“Yes…” Mike admitted contritely, knowing there was little point denying it, given both copies of the video footage he’d taken of Rajan as he’d pissed on him were now in the security guy’s possession.

“We’ve had several complaints over the course of the morning but I’m damned if I’m going to demand the domestic staff clean it up when I know full well it was you who did it!” 

“So, before you leave, you’re going to get down on your knees and clean up your own mess…”

“You’ve got to be joking!” Mike interrupted, letting his resentment at losing all the horny pics he’d taken of Rajan  get the better of him.

“If I don’t get to the airport soon, I’ll miss my flight!” he blustered in self-justification when his words were greeted with a stony silence. 

“You want me to report you to the police?” the security chief replied caustically, “I have all the evidence I need for them to arrest you, right here in my hand!”

“I thought not!” he added with a smirk, as Mike reined-in his temper and remained silent. 

Telling himself that having to clean the floor was far less humiliating than sucking the dick of the older Indian or anything he had demanded Rajan do for him the night before, Mike grudgingly got down on his knees, wondering what he was supposed to use to mop up what was left of the malodourous liquid.

“Take off your shirt!” came the security chief’s answer to his unasked question, as he pointed the camera lens at his adversary and pressed the “record” button with a smirk on his face.

Once more at the point of protesting, Mike reminded himself he had another shirt in his suitcase he could easily change into before boarding the plane and that this one was ruined in any case due to his tormentor tearing it apart. So, he did as he was told and whilst holding his breath, began soaking up the remnants of his stale piss with its fabric.

Mike was at the point of considering his task completed, when he noted Vinesh draw nearer and felt a few drops of warm liquid fall onto his back from above. Within moments, a trickle had become a torrent and his whole body was drenched in a shower of fresh urine. Taken by surprise at this latest indignity, he could only close his eyes and shut his mouth to prevent the stinging liquid from entering them, as his adversary targeted his flow at his face and hair. 

“Take off the rest of your clothes!” the security chief then demanded, tucking away his manhood once he had emptied his bladder, then stepping back so he could capture the whole of Mike’s body in the picture frame as he stripped.

Despite his growing fears that he might never see his luggage again and where the humiliating pics Vinesh was taking of him might end up, Mike’s cock seemed to have developed a mind of its own and began to harden rapidly.

“Hang your duds over the handrail,” added his tormentor, as the deflated Brit struggled to unfasten his soddened shoe laces, remove his socks and peel off what was left of his soaked trousers and underwear to expose his pallid flesh to his adversary in its entirety.

“Seems you get off on having sex in public places!” he added spotting Mike’s erection rising from his groin as he draped his clothes over the banister, “As well as spanking young Indian lads’ arses!”

Knowing no response was expected other than his compliance, once naked Mike resumed his kneeling position on the perimeter of the enlarged puddle of urine and hung his head contritely.

“Makes me think you get off on humiliation as well…” Vinesh added astutely, circling around his captive to take pictures of him from every angle while he pondered what his next move should be.

“Get down on your belly!” he demanded once he’d taken enough shots of him kneeling, wrapping his free hand around the back of Mike’s neck when he was slow to comply and prising his head down to the floor, “Now stick out your tongue and start lapping up my piss!”

“Please, don’t make me do this sir!” Mike begged, as the stench of urine and the thought of swallowing it brought him to the point of heaving up his breakfast. 

“Fuck me if you want to, but don’t make me do this!” he added in desperation, in the hope that the trade-off might persuade his tormentor to spare him.

Tickled to find himself addressed respectfully as “sir” for a change by one of the guests, Vinesh heaved an exaggerated sigh but released the downward pressure on Mike’s neck.

“Okay, since you ask so nicely, I’ll let you off,” he chortled, “But instead, you’re going to lie face-down in the piss and start humping the floor, like you made Rajan do!”

Realising he had no grounds to complain about being subjected to the same humiliation he himself had meted out to the waiter, the chastened Brit swallowed his pride and lowered his body into the pool of urine and began thrusting his swollen pink shaft up against the unyielding surface of the concrete.

“And while you do it, you can kiss my feet!” Vinesh stipulated in addition, recalling another act of submission Rajan had told him he’d been obliged to perform at the behest of the horny white guest. 

As Mike meekly covered the scuffed tops of his tormentor’s worn work shoes with kisses, the Indian gleefully recorded the sight of the Brit tensing and relaxing the muscles of his milky white buttocks as he ground his manhood into the floor in the middle of a puddle of his piss. 

Hearing the door to the staircase creak open, Mike froze, fearing they had been discovered. But when his adversary didn’t bat an eyelid and a metal bucket, slopping with soapy water, was set down on the floor beside him, he realised it was the porter returning with the equipment needed to clean up the mess.

“Carry on!” Vinesh insisted, forcing his head back down to his footwear, before exchanging words in his own tongue with his colleague, who tarried to watch the white guy degrade himself and, within a few moments, added to his humiliation by taking his cock from his pants and letting loose a fresh deluge of hot urine over his supine body.

Amidst sniggers and laughter, the disgraced businessman continued to hump the floor and lick the security chief’s boots in the hope that his co-operation might result in him being permitted to catch his return flight home, whilst his triumphant adversary recorded it all on camera.

“Now you’re going to clean up the mess!” Vinesh eventually announced, backing away from Mike’s tongue to move the bucket closer, “On your knees!" 

The defeated businessman slowly raised himself from the floor and sank his hands into the soap suds, where he discovered a scrubbing brush floating beneath the surface of the water.

“Before you start scrubbing, use these to soak up the piss first!” Vinesh called out, gleefully dropping Mike’s clothes into the replenished pool, then backing away as he reluctantly used his designer travel wear to absorb the porter’s piss.

“Put them in there, along with your shoes!” Vinesh then demanded, holding open a plastic laundry bag that had been supplied by the porter, once every item of Mike’s clothing was soiled and soaked with urine.

“You’ll get them back later!” he assured him as he passed the bag to the porter to dispose of, “But first start scrubbing!” 

Once the floor was cleaned to their satisfaction, Mike was handed a worn-out sweat towel, matching those provided at the gym, and told to use to it soak up the surplus water. After which the porter disappeared through the exit door with the businessman’s clothes and the bucket, leaving him devoid of his every possession.

“Next, we’re going to do some tidying up around the pool, so get up on your feet!"” Vinesh announced once he'd left, leaving Mike wondering if he was expected to do it naked.

“Wrap the towel around your waist and follow me!” he added before pushing open the exit door, leaving Mike struggling to stretch the soaked sweat towel around his midriff to protect his modesty.

“Hurry up!” he added as his rival quickly realised it wasn’t big enough to cover both his cock and ass at the same time, “I thought you said you had a plane to catch!” 

Irrespective of the handful of guests and the pool staff looking on, the security chief had the embarrassed Brit accompany him out to the pool, where he had him comb the bushes beneath the banana trees in search of the condom he had used to fuck the waiter. Only for him to lose his grip on the towel when he bent over to retrieve the spunk-filled rubber and expose himself fully to the bemused on-lookers.

To be continued...