The Weber residence looked impressive. I mean, I have a nice place at home, but this was a different cake. And I was not sure I fancied a bite of it. The way to their house was almost a kilometre long and, even for German standards, it was remote. And this guy was loaded. The house, the stables, the fields… All screamed money. It was after eight in the evening when we stopped before the stairs in front of their house. Martin and Helga greeted us. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen.
“Good evening, Koen. We’re curious why you’ve chosen to visit our estate at this late hour?” Martin said.
“I have come to collect my wife. She goes home with me tonight.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think so, Koen. She is not interested in going to your home tonight. From what I gather, she likes it better here.”
“I would like to hear that from herself, if you don’t mind.” I said.
“I’m afraid she’s unavailable tonight,” Martin replied.
“Make her available. I want to see if she is alright. If I’m not sure if she is alive and well, I will assume she is being held here against her will, and I will ask the police to investigate this place.”
“Wow, I see we are shooting directly with live ammunition.” Wait a minute, please. I will ask her to come out, you can hear it from herself. He said.
I asked Helga. “Would you be so kind as to collect my newest acquisition from the Cargo space of my van, please? I think she needs a bit of fresh air, and I don’t want her to pee in my van as well.”
I gave a totally stunned Helga the keys of the Transit and sat down on one chair of their veranda like I owned the place. I heard Helga gasp. After a few minutes, she emerged with Jutta. The poor girl’s hair was covered in sweat, and Helga supported her as she walked since her muscles were so cramped that she couldn’t walk independently. She stumbled onto a piece of grass to the side of the dirt road and fell on her knees. While she spread her knees, the pee was coming already out and kept going forever. A big flood, I don’t have another word for it. The relief on Jutta’s face was almost comical. I got out of my seat and took out her spider gag. I opened the front door of the Transit and took a bottle of water out and gave it to Helga.
Corrected: “Would you be so kind as to give her a bit of water in small sips, please? If she drinks too much at once, she can get sick.” I turned round and saw Sylvia standing there next to Martin with her mouth open.
“What is that?” Sylvia cried out.
“That is your friend Jutta from Kinky Club Kinta. You remember her? She volunteered to come with me and pick you up. So here we are. Are you ready to come with us?” I said calmly.
She laughed. I could tell from that laugh that there was no happiness present.
“Koen, do you think you can persuade me with that stunt? No, I don’t think so. I quite like it here. I finally learned here who I am and I embrace my submission proudly. Martin and Helga can give me both what I need. If you want to file for divorce, I won’t make it difficult for you. It pains me to say this so bluntly, Koen, but you have only yourself to blame for these absurd stunts that you pull.”
“If, just for argument’s sake, say if I could give you what you say you want so much, would you come back with me? Martin here has Helga and Ilse. He will hardly miss you, girl. I would. Miss you, I mean. I still love you.”
Sylvia’s face was suddenly full of pity and compassion. “Oh, Koen, we go back a lifetime together. And yet it’s my time to move on. Can’t you see that? I need this like an addict craves her next fix.”
“I think everything is said and done. I think we can wrap this up here.” Martin was leaning on the post of the veranda, looking a bit bored.
“Your wife invited my slave here under false pretences. Now my wife is claiming you are a better master than I am. That is not OK, man. My honour and reputation as a Master is here at stake. We need to settle this like men do.” I said.
“What do you propose, master Koen?” Martin said.
“This is not about subs what their level of submission is. This is about Sylvia claiming I’m too soft a Master and not a good enough to satisfy her. She might say it differently, but that is what it boils down to. So I propose Jutta and I will watch as you do a scene with her. Afterwards, I will do a scene with Jutta and have you and Sylvia watch us. You will do your worst on Sylvia and I will do likewise with my slut. If after that, Sylvia decides you are still the better Master I will not bother you or her again. If she realises I’m a Master after all, I will take her back with me.”
“Look, it’s late. I suggest you take care of Jutta and we will continue this conversation in the morning. It gives everyone a good night’s sleep over it, and things will look brighter in the sunlight.” Helga said.
“You are right, I said. Thank you for taking care of Jutta for me. We will find a hotel in the village we passed through, coming here.”
“Nonsense. We have plenty of rooms. You and Jutta can stay in one of the guest room. Sylvia will stay in our room anyway, so we have lots of space.” Helga replied.
Women fight more subtly. Unsure of Helga’s role in all of this, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that this alleged slave was the driving force behind the charade. I glanced over at Jutta. I had done a number on her. She didn’t deserve to let my pride dominate me and tell Helga we would go to a hotel, regardless.
Following a brief quiet meal, we found ourselves in a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. It’s so luxurious that even a hotel room would be envious. Among the items available were multiple types of bath salts, toothbrushes that were individually wrapped, and miniature tubes of toothpaste. Two soft bathrobes were hanging on the door hooks. I lifted the still naked Jutta in the bath after checking if the water wasn’t too hot. I poured a generous amount of bath salt in the water.
“How are you feeling?” I said as I sat down at the edge of the tub.
“Sore, of course. This bath is divine, though. Thank you Master. It was just what I needed. Being confined for such a long time is causing my muscles to cramp, which is quite surprising, as I did not know of their existence.”
“Take your time, love. If the water gets cold, feel free to add as much warm water as you want to.”
“Thank you, Master.”
It was finally my turn to enjoy a long, relaxing shower, starting with a soothing stream of hot water and ending with a refreshing blast of icy cold water to invigorate my mind and body. I towelled dry and put on the bathrobe. After brushing my teeth, I retrieved the comb from the plastic. My hair is white. Not grey, but white. Family present. Both my grandfather and my father have had a full head of white hair. It aged me, and maybe even made me appear more knowledgeable. As the reader is painfully aware by now, wisdom doesn’t come with age or white hair. I helped to get Jutta get out of her bath, towelled her dry from head to toe and draped a bathrobe around her shoulders as well.
“Sit down on the bed, kitten. We need to talk.”
“We do, Master?” She looked at the Tarzan standing to attention between my bathrobe’s slips.
“Not today”, I said while closing the robe and hiding Tarzan from distractions.
“Do you have a plan for tomorrow, Master?” she asked.
I told her what I was planning to do with her in minute detail. It was only fair to give her the opportunity to consent, object or modify, as it was her canvas I would paint on. After I had finished outlining my plans, I fixed a stern gaze on her once again.
“Kitty, what do you have to say about this?”
With a twinkle in her eyes, she glanced back. “Master, I have full confidence that it will work.”
We talked for a long time about the details. Perhaps Jutta was even more excited about it than I was. Finally, we went to sleep. Each of us slept on our designated side of the bed.
Both Martin and Helga were wearing their normal attire at the breakfast table, as was I. Jutta didn’t bring clothes with her, and was therefore naked, Sylvia was wearing her new white slave dress, tits bare, and her area around her pussy covered this time. Jutta was kneeling on her own initiative and, after a moment, Sylvia slipped out of her chair as well, following Jutta’s example.
Helga, the slave that had been elevated somehow, remained seated on her chair as she addressed both Martin and me.
“We will have some ground rules for your contest to see who has the biggest.” Before we start: Do you ladies both volunteer to take part in this ‘contest’? She air quoted the word contest and her opinion about it clearly showed on her face. Both girls nodded.
“Out loud, if you please. Sylvia?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Jutta?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Good. First rule: nothing permanent. Whatever you do, a week from now, both ladies’ bodies will look like they are now.”
“Take off your dress, slut”, she said to my wife.
Sylvia didn’t hesitate a moment and pulled the slave dress over her head and neatly folded the dress afterwards.
“Stand over there, both of you against each other. Tit to tit, belly to belly, toe to toe.” Helga turned to Martin and me. “The both of you inspect them both like you would inspect a rental car before you take it out from the garage. Note every scratch and bump and write them down. You start at their backs and then do their fronts.”
I glanced at Martin, but he appeared completely unfazed by obeying her commands. Perhaps I was challenging the wrong one. We inspected them both. Apart from a few blue spots and faded welts, Sylvia looked unharmed.
“Ready?”, Helga said. “The second restriction is the safe word. Dutch traffic lights rule for safe words. Either red or green, no orange in between. Red is Stop at once. Green is go on, I’m good. Please repeat the colours for me so I know you have understood it.”
Both girls obeyed and stated the meaning of both colours.
“Masters, if you block their mouths, put a handkerchief in their hand. If they drop the handkerchief, it equals the red safe word. Is that clear to all? I cannot state the importance of this enough for the both of you because I expect these Masters will go bananas over you.”
“Clear mistress, thank you”, Sylvia said with her eyes downwards.
“Thank you madam, I have no questions.”
“Good”, Helga resumed. “One more rule from my side, then. Whatever the outcome of this crazy duel will be, I want you and Jutta out of our property. Sylvia, if you choose to go with them, I want you to be out before the sun sets, and the same goes for you two. If Sylvia decides to stay, I want you gone before dark.”
We all agreed to wish of the lady of the manor.
“Let the charade begin! May the best Master win,” Said Helga and disappeared to feed Ilse.
“Do you want a brief word with Ilse before you go, slave Jutta?” Helga asked Jutta.
“No, thank you,” Jutta said, with no expression at all on her face.
Helga appeared momentarily taken aback, but then she nonchalantly shrugged and exited through the door, clutching a bowl meant for dogs.
The rest of breakfast the four of us enjoyed in silence. Like we should.
Like yesterday, it was sunny outside and you could feel the temperature already rising.
“Shall we begin?” Martin said. He also looked uncomfortable with the situation, like he wanted to be somewhere else at this moment. Bad luck, fellow. It will teach you to stay away from happily married couples in the future.
I nodded and followed him outside. Sylvia was following closely behind him, and I could feel Jutta following behind me without even glancing back.
There were two buildings behind the house. One relatively small shed, the other looked more like mega stalls. On the back of that shed was a huge X-cross nailed. On the floor was a bucket full of thin leather straps and Master Martin used them to secure Sylvia to the cross until she couldn’t move at all, except her head. The sun warmed Sylvia’s skin as it basked in the shed. You could already see droplets of sweat on her tiny tits. Or perhaps it was fear instead of the sun. Who knew? With her butt pressed securely against the rough wood, Martin took a few steps back to admire his handiwork.
“Try to move”, he checked if that was possible, but it didn’t seem like it.
Martin retrieved a whip from the side of the shed and held the whip out to us. It was long, as long as from here to the sun. He was holding a sturdy leather handle about 8 inches, braided with a beautiful pattern, no doubt hand made and with a thong that tapered from thick to a thinner end.
“This not only looks dangerous, it’s dangerous in incapable hands. It can pick up dirt and gravel and fling through the air at 1120 km per hour. You need a little muscle, most of it is timing. It is the reason I will place one of those COVID plastic caps over her head to protect her face and neck. Sylvia knows I can kill her with one stroke of this whip and yet she has agreed to show this to you. Master Koen and slave Jutta, you may remember making Zebra stripes on Helga in your club? I will do the same with Sylvia, but this time with a far more dangerous whip. Before we start off, slut, kiss the whip that is going to make you suffer.”
Sylvia planted a few kisses on the whip with puckered lips.
“Not like that, slut. Kiss it like a lover!” Martin shouts out.
Frantically, Sylvia showered the whip with kisses. She took the leather in her mouth, savouring the rich taste as she slowly sucked on it, before repeating loving kisses again.
After a few minutes, even Martin thought it was enough.
Without a doubt, this man was a master of the whip. Skilfully, he covered Sylvia’s front with angry red welts that hurt like hell if Sylvia’s screams were an indication of it. At first, Sylvia’s screams may have been mixed with fear, but the last ones on her legs were definitely pure pain. Suddenly Helga spoke up. I occupied a folding garden chair next to her, which she had provided as seating for the public.
“Slave Sylvia, is this enough proof for you that Master Martin is a master that can satisfy all your needs, or does he have to do your back as well?” Helga asked.
It took a while before Sylvia got herself together. I attempted to appear unaffected by everything unfolding before me. It was a heartbreaking sight as my wife suffered in excruciating pain, bleeding from various wounds right in front of me.
“It’s Master that decides if I have had enough, but I need no more evidence that Master Martin is a wonderful master that can satisfy me completely.”
“Thank the whip, cunt,” Martin said, removing her cap and holding the whip in front of her. Again she went to town, making sure that everybody knew how much she had loved this.
Martin and Helga both took Sylvia from the cross and sat her on Martin’s lap. He kissed her all over her face. I could learn a few lessons from this guy about aftercare.
“Are you ready for your turn, master Koen?” Helga asked.
“Perhaps I can lend one of your dog bowls?” I asked her. “The rest I need I have with me in my van.”
“Certainly, just a moment”, she said. I used the time to get the suitcase from my Transit.
“As this seems to be the centre stage, we will do our little demonstration here as well. Kitten, would you mind coming over here?” Jutta crawled on all fours in my direction.
“Kiss me.” I said. She kissed me with no inhibition or regard for my reaction while I remained unresponsive. This one sided kiss lasted for a few minutes. The longer it I didn’t kiss back, the more fiercely she kissed me. Finally, I retreated, and she stopped.
“Can I ask the members of the audience a huge favour? I would love it if you wouldn’t mind filling this bowl with piss. In your demonstration you referred to the show on stage of Kinky Kinta, and it inspired me to do the same. I originally had planned on something else, but this seems to be appropriate as well. So Sylvia, perhaps you would be the first to do what you do so well, and that is pee in front of an audience.”
She didn’t like that. Tough luck. She looked at Martin and he nodded. It took her almost a minute to open the floods, desperately trying to relax so her body expelled what it didn’t need any longer. Finally, it was only enough to fill the bottom of the bowl because she spilled some. Women always complain about men peeing in all directions, but aim wise, they are even worse.
“Hmmm, not so much as last time, huh? Helga and Martin, if you don’t mind? I will be glad to do it myself, but it would be a bigger humiliation for Kitten here, to have a go at the pee of the competition.” First Helga and then Martin filled the bowl to the brim.
“Wonderful, you are an amazing audience. Thank you. Now you can sit and relax. Except for Sylvia, of course. I kindly request that you pay close attention.”
With precision, I secured Jutta’s hands behind her back, rendering her unable to escape. I unhurriedly removed my T-shirt and jeans.
“Remove my boxers with your teeth, little one. Be mindful where you bite.” I grinned.
Slowly but with little difficulty she displayed a half hard Tarzan to my three-headed audience.
“Make it really hard and wet, Kitten, for I am going to have anal sex with you with no additional lubrication.” I said conversationally as she eagerly began her task.
“Someone recently told me you only own a woman if you have fucked her ass. Well, I haven’t had the pleasure of fucking Kitty here, but I certainly want to own her, so what better place to start than in her darkest hole? Kitty here is an excellent cocksucker. It is only at this moment that I fully comprehend the extent of what I have missed in the past years. I hope it’s not boring so far, Sylvia?”
I looked down at Jutta again. “Ok, that’s enough, little one. Well done. Turn around and face the bowl. Now dunk your head in the bowl and only come out after I am rooted deep in your ass.”
To all of my readers that only have seen anal in porn, I can inform you that you need quite a lot of strength to push a rather thick object into an orifice that was made for exit, not for entry. It took me a while. I had no timer. Sorry about that. The moment I was fully inside of her, Jutta’s head soared upwards, and her damp, flowing hair created a mesmerising cascade of golden drops in the air.
“Kitten, we are going to play a very simple quiz. I will ask you questions and you can only answer yes or no to them. After we start, I want you to take before each question a deep gulp of the golden stuff in front of you. If the answer is yes, I want you to swallow all of it and show our audience your empty mouth. If the answer is no, I want you to pull back your head and gargle a bit for me. Don’t spit it out, or swallow, just keep it in your mouth. Only yes or no answers. Simple game, right?”