Chapter 15

Around a quarter past ten, Helga and Martin retreated to their room. I wasn’t sad about it, but Sylvia was disappointed. She clung to Helga’s companionship, desperately seeking refuge from her own insecurity and longing for a sense of belonging. At least, that was my translation of her behaviour. Jutta joined our table.

“I’m curious about your first impressions.” She smiled, her nakedness making her vulnerability even more apparent, yet she remained a gracious and welcoming host.

“It’s a wonderful place you have got here. If it’s the same as today, I can’t wait for tomorrow”, gushed Sylvia.

Jutta looked at me, searching for emotions and gave me a puzzled, wary look. “And that goes for you as well, Master Koen?”

I nodded.

“Did I notice a slight bit of apprehension between you and Master Martin, sir?” Jutta said.

“No, of course not. They are a delightful couple.” Sylvia answered my question. Jutta gave me a furtive look. I changed the subject.

To keep the conversation going, I asked Jutta, “I would love to hear a bit more about you and how you ended up here with a hotel annex BDSM-club?”

“My birthplace is in Sweden, but I moved to Feuerburg out of love. My husband inherited this hotel from his parents, and there was an undeniable and magical pull between us. It didn’t matter to me he was 30 years my senior. I didn’t know it when I married, but I found my Master, my Daddy. I felt cherished and nurtured and loved. He was a harsh master and the Masters that are consequent and strict are the best ones. Nestled in the mountains, there is a secluded old house that was once connected to the hotel. It had been empty for nearly 15 years. My husband built a secret corridor from here through the mountain towards the old house and converted it into a dungeon. After covering the house from sight, it was our secret hideaway. Dark. Wild. It became not only our private playroom, but soon we had friends joining us there. After he passed away, I kind of took over. Friends convinced me to continue the Kink Club meetings. In a way, they helped me to learn to cope with my new life.”

“There has never been another Master for you then?” I asked.

“No. My husband was my soulmate. He cannot be replaced.” She said.

Like many women, Sylvia loved to brag about me in female company. Like she was looking for recognition and appreciation for her exceptional job in raising and taming her husband.

“Good men are hard to find. I have found a treasure myself. You know almost all men are hysterical about our monthlies? My husband is the best man in the world. He knew when my period was due, and took a day off from work so he could take care of the boys, help them with their homework, cleaned the house and made dinner. So I could stay in bed. And he would bring me roses and chocolate to make me feel better. He would rub my belly and make the pain go away, or at least reduced. And the best is yet to come ... You know those days at that time of the month and you are horny as hell? He would lick me until I came. He always said that a little blood doesn’t frighten him.”

“No way?” Jutta gasped.

“Way!” Sylvia reeled in the female equivalent of who has the biggest cock.

“Your daughter seems like a forceful lady as well.” I said, again in an attempt not to make the conversation about me.

“Ilse is a sweetheart.” Jutta said. “She has known about the BDSM-relationship for nearly all of her life. It’s as normal for her as we are talking vanilla here. And she has her mother’s genes. My joy comes from pleasing others as a more submissive person. I think Ilse is more a masochist, a pain slut kind of girl. As a mother, I can’t help but feel a knot of dread in my stomach, hoping against hope that I am mistaken, because navigating such a challenging existence in this modern day and age is no easy feat. I have to find the strength to release her, though.”

“Is Ilse an only child?” I asked.

“Yes, we were blessed with just one child. Do you have children?”

So we talked a bit about my kids and Sylvia took over. Soon enough, the two women were sharing anecdotes about raising children. Like mums do. I yawned. It had been a long day and I was tired. I kissed Sylvia on her forehead and said I was going to bed. Sylvia, my social half, wanted to stay, I could tell. I asked Jutta to open the room for Sylvia later on, but she gave her a second key to our room. With a big iron lump attached to it as well.

I do not know at what time Sylvia came to bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was gone.

“What do you think so far, little one?” I asked my spouse when we got up in the room after breakfast.

“Sir, I kindly request your permission to speak candidly and freely.”

“Granted, little one. Just be honest with me.”

“I love it here, Sir. I do not like it, it’s not nice, I bloody love every minute. To be here is like what a patient of a rare illness must feel when they are at a meeting of likewise spirits. I do not know if I’m sick. Some people say I am. But to be here and talk with all these people that know exactly what I feel The mere fact that I don’t have to explain to them, is priceless to me.”

“I know this is not your thing. Every bone in my body is telling me this. I know I would do you a big favour if I said let’s go home now. I humbly ask you to prioritise my request and disregard any reservations you may have. We have been not only lovers but best friends for a zillion years. I owe you and you owe me favours for things we did for each other in those years. Today, I’m cashing in on a bunch of those favours. Let us stay here with an open mind this weekend and step up your game as a dominant. Show them and me you can be the dominant man I love so much. I want them to respect you, because you deserve respect, not only from me, but as a member of our community as well.”

That didn’t sit right with me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Two choices: either I start shouting at her, or I take a walk. I choose the latter. Without a word, I turned around and walked down the stairs. I possess a strong sense of self-confidence, which stems from my belief in being a good man. The celebrated successes I have experienced throughout my life contribute to this positive outlook. I was a good father and a good husband. I had been good at making a living. She wanted me to stay here. And I would never would I walk out on her. Hell, we were here because she wanted to. Being in an environment where people constantly sought to prove their superiority was something I deeply disliked. I don’t have to prove I have the biggest one. I know my cock is big enough, thank you very much. My own self-respect mattered more than the respect of these people. And I knew Sylvia respected me as well, despite what she said. Calmer now, I walked back to the hotel. Sylvia, Martin, and Helga were already waiting in the lobby in deep conversation.

As soon as she saw me, Sylvia ran up to me and pulled me into a corner. “Are you OK?”

I nodded. That was not enough.

“Are we okay by staying here and finish the rest of the weekend?” Another nod from me.

“Will you be strict with me the rest of the weekend and show these people what you are made of?”

“I don’t care what they think, Sylvia. Gedanken sind frei. I will do as I please, regardless of their opinion.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.”

Martin drove us to town. He had been here before and knew his way around here. They all drive like madmen here. Martin was no exception. Sylvia asked Helga a question, something trivial. I can’t even remember what it was, but Helga didn’t answer. Martin laughed.

“Sorry slave, Helga is not allowed to talk at all. I put a lock on her mouth this morning.”

I looked at Martin. Was he serious? I mean, they obviously play hard, but I hope he was joking and meant that figuratively. He stopped the car on the side of the road.

“Come, I will give you a little demonstration, I think you’ll both enjoy.” He got out of the car and opened the passenger door. Sylvia and I got out both as well. Helga stepped out of the car with a little difficulty. Martin grabbed the hem of the ... I don’t know what’s it’s called. I call it a poncho. A big piece of cloth with a hole for the head. Anyway, he pulled it away over her head. It revealed a strange dress. Two long sleeves dangled from either side of her body, empty and useless. The front of the dress was provocative. The corset was laced so tightly that her breasts were pushed up and spilled out of the cups. In the front, the dress was provocatively short, while it was long at the back.