Chapter 16

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?”