The tension on the way back was palpable, and even being alone with Sylvia in the hotel room it hadn’t dissipated. She disappeared into the bathroom ‘to get ready’ for the longest time. Long enough for me to go downstairs and have a drink in the bar.
At the bar, the Domina I saw yesterday was sitting at the end with her slave girl. She licked her Domina’s boots non-stop while I was watching her. It’s over the top to join them at this point. They were the only couple in the bar. I guess most of them were busy to get ready as well.
“What can I do for you?” Jutta asked.
“A glass of wine would be fine.”
“Red?”
I nodded.
“I haven’t seen you all day, master Koen?” she said.
“We have been with Martin and Helga to the castle.”
“Ah, the Sloss. It’s so beautiful. And you are both so lucky to have found Master Martin. He’s such a wonderful person and one of the best Masters I know.”
“What is so special about Martin?” I asked.
“There are few men out there that can actually read women. Gay men usually possess that talent. They understand what makes us tick because it resonates in themselves as well. But straight men often find themselves at a loss, questioning, ‘Who can truly understand women?’ But some masters are so attuned to us, they understand us better than we do ourselves. Master Martin is such a man, and according to your slave you could be as well, providing you open up without moral reservations about the lifestyle.”
“It’s important to keep a moral compass, Jutta.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t, but in BDSM like in every community, people are different and yet we are all under this same umbrella that is called BDSM. And often I come across individuals who are quick to criticise others morally. You would think that of all groups, ours would be more tolerant towards alternative behaviour. Tolerance doesn’t require compromising morals for different views.”
I finished the drink. “Food for thought, Jutta. I’d better go upstairs, I think, to check how Sylvia is doing.”
With a smile, she carried on cleaning a glass that was already spotless.
Dinner was much like yesterday. Since we were guests of Martin, they expected us to join their table. Helga’s mouth was unlocked again, I suppose because she talked nonstop with Sylvia and Martin acted like a human being again, so we had an actual conversation. The girls ate their slave gruel once more, and I tried the XXL-schnitzel that was surprisingly good. Two new servers were the only thing different, both in traditional Bavarian attire, and Jutta and her daughter were nowhere in sight. The Domina I saw earlier this afternoon in the bar stood up, her boots shining in the half-lit room. “Mistresses and Masters, I think we are all done eating and before we start our evening of debauchery, I would like to thank your wonderful servers of tonight Petra and Martha for doing such a wonderful job.”
We all applauded. The girls, that were probably older, looked the wrong side of twenty to me, blushed and bowed like circus artists after their performance.
“It’s time to play now. Jutta has asked me to invite all of you to accompany me to the dungeon, and I hope you will consider joining us. On behalf of our new guests this evening: The door to Club Kink Kinta, a name that her late husband gave it in honour of his slave and is of course a contraction of Kinky Jutta, is locked with several locks during the rest of the month. To get there, we’ll have to go downstairs and pass through the hotel’s storage cellar. We have a tradition here where slaves can only enter the corridor that leads to the dungeon while wearing a collar and being led by a leash. There are enough dog collars downstairs for all of us.” She explained, looking at us. “Enough talk. Please join me.”
Trailing behind the woman, we mimicked the Pied Piper of Hamelin, cautiously manoeuvring through cramped passageways, my heart racing, hoping not to stumble upon any rats. A ten centimetre thick wooden door was open and gave way to a big black dark hole. The procession stopped and, in apparent agreement, all slaves turned to their masters and mistresses and kissed them on the mouth, saying “in trust”. They moved on the next to their right, thus making a circle, pledging their trust to every dominant in this confined space. Sylvia joined them as if we had done this before. Another ritual I wasn’t aware of. Being kissed by nine female and three male slaves on the mouth was certainly a novel experience for me. None of the Dominants seemed to be unfazed by it.
Martin handed over a black collar and matching leash to me and I secured the collar around Sylvia’s neck.
“Make me proud, little one,” I breathed in her ear.
“I will, my wonderful Master.” She whispered back.
“Please follow me to the dungeon. My fellow Dominants, keep your slaves on a tight leash. The rock floor is not equally flat everywhere, as many before you have already experienced through trial and error.”
It felt like a journey through the caves when walking down the hallway towards the dungeon. We had been through the caves of Remouchamps in Belgium with the children, and this immediately reminded me of it. A long electric cord, provisionally attached to the wall with a bare electric bulb every two, two and a half meters. Enough to see the couple before you, but not more than that. The path meandered like the roads here, and after a few minutes, I could see a bright light at the end of the tunnel.
The dungeon was one high open space, brightly lit and looked like the BDSM-cellar I had seen online. On the right was a small stage with chairs before them. On the left, I saw a room that resembled a wet room for obvious reasons, with bondage racks that seemed to have been taken straight from my old school’s gym. But that wasn’t the focal point of the dungeon. It was a huge X-cross with a very nude Jutta on it. She was bound tightly to the cross, and clearly that was a good thing, for she hung there upside down. The cross had the capability to be turned.
“Please come and see. The Domina invited us closer. The regulars among us here know that is has been a long time Jutta has played with us. Tonight is a special night for her and her girl Ilse as well. So yesterday she asked me and Arturo here to join our play night tonight. And of course we were keen to do so. She can’t see us because of the mask, and she can’t hear us either. The fine leather thing is equipped with excellent noise cancelling. She still can talk, though. She can come as well. The vibrator in her beautiful open pussy is there for a reason being to come as often as she wants to. Her daughter is monitoring her and has the remote controller of the vibrator in her hands. We have a good enough understanding of Ilse to predict that she will seize the opportunity, considering it maybe her last time here for a long time.”
She walked towards the stage. I glanced at her rear end, noticing the custom-made latex outfit that perfectly hugged her curves, making it clear that you wouldn’t find this size in a regular store. As the others got comfortable around the stage with the slaves at their feet, Sylvia and I followed their lead.
“The program of tonight. We will start off with a demonstration from Louise and Eddie. Louise, may I ask you to come on stage and show us your demonstration?”
“Thank you, Olivia. Eddie and I have been for over six years in a Mistress and slave relationship and in that time, our relationship has strengthened. We stretched his limits as far as we could and we enjoy our total power exchange relationship to the fullest. Eddie wanted to show all of you today the extent of the trust he has in me. I have denied his original request. Perhaps you could tell our friends here what your silly request was, you pathetic slave?”
This Eddie character was looking at her in awe. His nearly white blonde hair flowed down to his neck, giving him the appearance of being at least ten years younger than her, possibly even more. That was the only hair on his body, and it made its stiff dick stand out. The lack of body hair made it seem bigger than it actually was.
“I asked my Mistress, may she live forever, to insert a glass tube in my urethra.”
“Use normal words for your tiny dick, you worthless piece of shit.”
“The piss tube in my dick, Mistress.”
“That’s right. I see my male friends there shiver and rightly so. It could destroy your dick forever if this thing was to break. There are so many things that could go wrong here and you ending up in hospital and I in jail. Inform all these nice people here why I beat you so hard after you’ve asked you had to stay in bed for two days.”
“I was taking unacceptable risks with the property of my Mistress. May she live forever. My dick is not for my pleasure, but solely an instrument to give my mistress joy if she wants to play with it.” Eddie confessed, clearly embarrassed, looking down at an interesting spot on the floor.
“Good boy. So what instead are we going to do today?”
“You are going to fuck my ass with this huge black dildo?”
“And?” she insisted.
“I am not allowed to cum.”
“Why would that be so difficult?”
“It has been three months that my cock was in its cage, Mistress. A dildo that big is going to rub my prostate, and it’s nearly impossible for me not to come if you do.”
“So you say I’m setting you up for failure?”
“Of course not Mistress, may you live forever.”
“Should I lube this motherfucker a bit to fuck your man’s pussy, or did you lube yourself enough to be invaded by this monster?”
“Whatever you want, Mistress.”
So she fucked him. And he loved it. I will never understand why a Dominatrix has such a fascination for strap-ons. They look ridiculous, they only give the receiving one pleasure, not the Dominatrix herself and therefore she is nothing but an instrument to give him joy. Hardly a dominant thing to do. So she fucked him. And he moaned. And his prick jumped up and down with involuntary movement and lust. But he held back his semen in his balls. He was rewarded with a cage for his cock and the promise he cannot come for the next six months. He looked elated. We rewarded them both with applause and Olivia, the lesbian Dominatrix and apparent host for tonight, took the stage again.
“What a delightful demonstration that was. Let’s shift our attention for a moment to the cunt that owns this place, whose pussy is working overtime. I hope at least it does. Ilse, tell us the score. How many times has she come already?”
“Six times, Mistress Olivia”.
“Wonderful. We are off to a good start. Why don’t you turn her around so she gets some blood into her legs again, but leave the hood where it is. She is to be in her own world for a while. Well, at least until we finish our next demonstration. Master Martin, the stage is yours and yours alone!”
“Thank you, Mistress Olivia, and thank you all for this opportunity. Before we start, I would like a shout out for Master Koen and his slave girl, Sylvia. They shared with us they have continued their journey of this lifestyle from the beginning of their marriage now that they are both retired. Their story serves as a source of inspiration for everyone. Koen, perhaps you might say a few words as an introduction to all of us?”
“Thank you, master Martin, for this opportunity. Sylvia has been pestering me for some time now to join this club. I have to admit I was hesitant at first, but now I’m here with you that have been nothing but friendly to us. I can say I do not regret it. My Sylvia and I have been married for over 38 years and we have been partners, friends, lovers and I will be her owner for the next year as well. I have a permanent marker here that will remain to be seen on her skin for at least a couple of days, no matter how hard you scrub to take it off. I invite all of you to write a message on her body. She wanted to show here how well she does in mastering high protocol. So I would love it if you would rate her behaviour and write the results anywhere on her body.”
Sylvia looked very excited as she pulled her yellow slave dress over her head, kissed my hand, and took the marker from me. She presented herself to the couple on the far left.
“Sorry about the interruption, Martin.” I passed the baton over to him.
“Not to worry, Koen. As you people paint her empty canvas, I am here to paint the canvas of Helga very different way. A painful way, I might add. I was recently in a zoo and saw some Zebras there. And that gave me the idea that my Helga would make a pretty Zebra herself. I have a very aggressive single tail here. And I intend to whip her from top to toe with even distances between the red whip lines. The lines need to be straight and more important for two fingers distance from each other. This takes a lot of concentration from me and from Helga as well. She will not be bound, and it takes a lot of willpower from her to stay in place and endure the pain. I will start at her back and from the shoulders down. For obvious reasons, I won’t whip her higher than that. I want to demonstrate her willingness and love for me to endure this predicament, not to mutilate her.”
He started to whip her. His skill with a whip was so impressive that I couldn’t help but admire it, even if I didn’t want to. Slowly but surely on her back developed a series of rows of angry red welts. In the kidney area, the welts were much lighter, but he compensated by creating thick welts on her buttocks. That woman would not be sitting painlessly for over a week. You could hear a pin drop in the room. Not only did he whip harder on her upper thighs, you could see he restrained himself when he hit her calves. Helga turned around. Martin gave her transparent safety glasses, the kind construction workers use. The level of safety impressed me. Helga folded her hands behind her neck again, as if to present her tits for a good lashing.
Helga screamed with every stroke of the whip on her chest. When he hit both of her nipples with one stroke, she broke posture for a moment and collapsed. Martin used a few minutes to check in with her and she took her pose again, the sign he could continue. When he had reached her ankles, Helga cried freely and continuously. With the last stroke, he threw the whip away and embraced her as our applause lingered over them both for a long time. Both of them delivered an inspiring performance that left us in awe.