Chapter 23

“Koen,” the voice on my phone, which I wished I had heard yesterday, appeared somewhat unsettled.

“I expected you yesterday”, I said. Hoping that didn’t sound too disappointed.

“We intended to come yesterday, but Master Martin had to deal with a couple of emergencies here.”

“Really? Well, I will see you later, I suppose. And little one?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Next time you call me Koen instead of Master Koen, you will regret it.”

“Yes, Master. I am sorry.”

“As you should be. See you later today.” And I pushed the red button on my screen.

I did not want to stay all day in the hotel pacing around for Sylvia to come home to me, so I paid my friend Hans in Feuerburg a visit. I had seen an old Dutch analog Fleischmann train. Fleischmann made trains with superior detailing. Since they stopped, there has been nothing like it. Now, obviously, someone had weathered this train, making this rolling stock even look more realistic. But the price was way above my budget, so with pain in the heart, I left it in excellent hands.

I returned at three in the afternoon. Without the Dutch train, but with other small stuff I planned to well use. There were some cars in the parking lot, but not Martins. I knew it was not realistic for me to expect that they were already here, and yet still I couldn’t help but being disappointed. What we needed was to go home soon and leave all this stuff behind us. Perhaps we should stop this master/slave-relationship prematurely. There were only seven months left of our trial year.

I stopped at the reception desk and borrowed materials to pack my station securely for transportation. I needed a big shopper bag to carry the rest of my stuff to my Transit. After that, I went for a walk to say goodbye to the breathtaking scenery I would probably never see again. I had no intention of returning to this place ever again. After my walk, I sat in the lobby trying to make sense out of a local German newspaper. Quite a few new guests would arrive, and each of them warmly welcomed by Jutta. But not Martin, Helga, Ilse and Sylvia. No sign of them yet. By five, I was on pins and needles, so I was glad Jutta stayed out of my way. I was behaving like a young girl for her prom date to arrive; I berated myself. Finally, I went upstairs. My phone buzzed. A long text-message. They were late because of a colossal mess on the road, where several cars had crashed into each other. The police had to investigate the tracks, so the road was still not yet cleared. They hoped to arrive at dinnertime.

I undressed to take a really long shower. I had been saving up for Sylvia, but now, on a pubescent impulse, I jerked off in the shower. After being ignored that long, Tarzan was feeling fantastic, and he wanted it to last forever. When I finally came I spewed a young mans quantity of seed against the brown tiles. It had been ages since the last time I had to resort to my right hand. I grinned. I felt young again. Sylvia was on her way, and all would be fine in the world soon, very soon.

Of course, everything went to hell after that. The dinner bell had already rung when Martin and Sylvia came to my table. “So sorry about being late”, Martin said and Sylvia pecked me on the lips. She looked gorgeous. “What do you say about my slave dress?” she asked me.

“It looks stunning.” I said. It really did. A white long transparent dress with two holes in front and her small naked breasts peeking out. Like they were trying to escape the otherwise tight prison of white cloth around her body. Her back was bare, except for two thin straps of cloth in a cross shape keeping everything together. At crotch level, there was a triangle patch that could be opened and closed with a few buttons. It was open now and dangled between her legs, giving free access to her pussy. It was open now for anyone to see and if they were daring enough, to touch.

“Where are Ilse and Helga?” I asked. I assumed Ilse was getting back in touch with her mother, but it was Helga whom I had expected. Perhaps she needed a bathroom break.

“They stayed at home”, Sylvia answered. “Ilse was just not ready to come back here and obviously someone had to stay behind to take care of her, so Helga volunteered for the job. I haven’t seen you for so long, Master Koen, that I just had to go with Master Martin.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

“Of course, Master.”

Martin’s favourite schnitzel arrived and a plate of slave gruel. Martin had already grabbed the spoon to feed Sylvia, what almost seemed like a routine gesture, but just in time turned the spoon around and gave it to me. I gave my girl her food by the spoonful at a rather rapid pace. She didn’t look at me, but continued to stare at the floor. A violation of orders again, as her task was to look me in the eye. Once again, the validity of that order was proven. What the hell went on at that farm over there?

After dinner, we went to the dungeon through the tunnel once more. I was tired of all this shit. I wanted to go home. If possible tonight. Jutta was kind and cheerful and introduced the first couple that would perform tonight. A rather obese couple, and their show was fine. In my humble opinion, there was a lack of a genuine connection between the partners, but that’s just my personal viewpoint. After refreshments, Jutta took the stage again.

“We planned the next show for Master Martin and his slave Helga, but since Helga is not here...”

“Slave Sylvia here volunteered to take her place, providing, of course, Master Koen agrees to loan his slave to me for this little demonstration of obedience.” Martin said.

You can think I am a coward, but please don’t say it aloud now, dear reader. I knew the reason Sylvia insisted on coming here was that she wanted to prove that she was a good submissive. And with all eyes on me, I chickened out and gave my permission. Sylvia got up without giving me a second look and walked to Martin on the centre stage. Engrossed in his task, he was moving a substantial, unknown contraption from the back of the stage to the centre, carefully keeping it hidden under a blanket.

“Strip, you needy cunt.”

And without one second of hesitation, Sylvia took off her slave dress over her head, revealing her glorious body.

He stripped the blanket away and revealed a fucking machine. Two dildos mounted on metal bars that were made to move in and out of a woman’s cunt. And ass. With a motor that allowed to set the pace and depth of the insertion.