Bitte, Bitte (Lass mich dein Sklave sein)

by SoftEigentlich (ao3)

When you come to me, you’re going to lose yourself in a bizarre world full of mystical pleasure and severe pain.

At least, that’s what the website had promised. A couple of emails and only a few days later, Virgil found himself standing before her door. For an introductory interview. For fear of being late, he had arrived much too early, naturally, and had to go for a bit of a walk in the neighborhood to kill the time remaining until his actual appointment. The walking would have helped with his nervousness, had he not felt like a total creep. The neighbors were surely already peeking out from behind their curtains, and they knew exactly what he was here for. He should just have gotten back into his car, driven off, and buried this whole stupid idea back in the farthest corner of his brain, where it had come from. But while he was still debating back and forth, the time for his appointment had come, and with one last deep breath, he rang at the specified address.

He didn’t have to wait very long. The door opened, and there she was: Lady Logan. She wore a black blouse, buttoned-up to the top, with a dark blue necktie under a close-fitting waistcoat, also dark blue, and a matching knee-length pencil skirt, black tights and flat patent leather shoes. Surprisingly prim for a dominatrix.

"Virgil, I presume?"

He nodded nervously.

"Right on time. Please, come in."

Virgil stepped into the bright and unexpectedly inviting hallway. Displayed along the walls, hung framed pictures of Lady Logan in a variety of outfits. In white, dressed as a nurse. In dark silks with furs and a cigarette holder. In an orange corset with matching garter belt, a whip brandished over her head. Not that Virgil didn’t find the sexy librarian look appealing in some way, but this was more how he had imagined her.

"Coffee?" Her question pulled him from his musings.

"No, thank you. I’m already nervous enough as is," he joked sheepishly.

"That’s nothing unusual for the first visit to a dominatrix." She sounded understanding. "Your introduction to the subject matter will be handled gently."

Virgil nodded again, a bit relieved.

"The word Dominatrix, also referred to as Mistress or Master, comes from Latin: dominare, to rule, to control," she explained as she walked past him; her heels clicking loudly over the hardwood floors.

"Follow me."

Virgil did as he was told.

At the end of the hallway, they entered a study. A huge, antique oak desk stood in the middle of it and tall, dark bookshelves adorned the walls. The shelves contained an impressive collection of books but also a few very elaborate, blown glass sex toys. Virgil wondered if they were only for decoration or if they actually got used. He couldn’t imagine a glass dildo up someone’s rear end being very safe.

Lady Logan sat down behind the desk and motioned for him to sit opposite of her. She crossed her legs, picked up a pen and a clipboard and got straight to the point.

"What brings you to me, Virgil? In your email you expressed an interest in bondage. Do you have any experience in that regard?"

Virgil could feel his cheeks growing hot. He should have accepted the coffee, then he could at least have hidden behind his cup now.

"Well, I- I’ve experimented with some ropes at home. But by myself, it’s kinda hard to get them as tight as I want them to be. I would love to not be able to move at all, actually."

She looked at him over the rim of her glasses, her gaze piercing.

"What do you want to happen to you while you’re tied up? Are you looking for affection? Humiliation? Pain?"

Virgil swallowed and grew even redder as he avoided her eyes. Certainly, dominatrixes heard much more perverted things than he had to say on a daily basis, but it still cost Virgil a considerable amount of effort to get the words to come over his lips.

"I like the chafing of the ropes on my skin," he finally admitted. "And when they are so tight around my chest that I have to concentrate on breathing. It- It takes my mind off of..." He made a vague hand gesture. "Things." And after a moment to gather his courage he added meekly: "A-And I like to get spanked. Just not… too much."

Lady Logan nodded, continuing to take notes. "What do you mean by 'not too much'?"

Virgil was rubbing his neck. "Just a few little slaps on the butt. Nothing, that would leave marks or anything…"

"I think we can work with that." Lady Logan adjusted her glasses. "I can see that you’re still a bit unsure. In one of the playrooms, I have one of my slaves waiting. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to give you a little demonstration of my services on him."

Undeniably, Virgil was curious, but… "Is that really okay? For the…", he hesitated for a moment, "for the slave, I mean…?"

"Submissive people are also called slaves or servants. And I assure you, I have his full consent. It was his idea to begin with, actually."

"O-oh… In that case, sure. Why not?"

"I’m certain, Remus will be glad to hear it. But before we go to the other room, we need to clear up a few security questions. Are you at all familiar with safewords."

"I haven’t really used any before… But I know how the traffic lights works?"

"For a start, that will suffice. Please, use such safewords without reservation." She said emphatically. "Communication is very important. I will of course also pay close attention to your other reactions and your body language, and adapt the scene accordingly. But it’s always better to use your safeword one too many times than one too few."

"Yeah, makes sense." Leading up to this appointment, Virgil had spent a considerable amount of time imagining every possible way for this thing to go awry. But hearing now how serious Lady Logan took his safety and well-being, dispelled a fair few of those anxieties.

"One more question. Do you have any medical conditions that might be relevant? Trouble breathing, for example? Knee or back pain? Allergies? Claustrophobia?"

"Not really… I used to get panic attacks, but it’s been a few years. Is that a problem?"

"Doesn’t have to be." Her pen danced elegantly across her clipboard. "Do you remember if anything specific triggered those attacks?" Virgil shook his head. "Alright, I’ll keep an eye out for it and, as I said, you can use the safewords at any time. Should you at any point be unable to speak, you can knock three times and I will interrupt the scene immediately."

Virgil nodded.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"Pretty good, actually." he replied, realizing to his surprise that it was the truth. During the course of their conversation most of his nervousness had evaporated and now his heart was only pounding with excitement.

"Wonderful! Then we will begin with the demonstration."

Lady Logan led him back into the hallway and opened a door on her left. Against the far wall of the dimly lit room stood a cage and inside, kneeling on all fours, was a guy dressed in acid greed latex. His head was also almost completely covered with the shiny material, so that he couldn’t see anything. A black rubber gag in his mouth kept him from speaking. Around his neck, a black dog collar with a handle sticking out the back.

Lady Logan opened the door to the cage with a key that she pulled from her waistcoat pocket. The man inside perked up. "Slave!", she ordered with unexpected severity. "Come out of the cage. You are needed for demonstration purposes." The man fumbled his way to the door and crawled out of the cage, still on all fours. His mistress took a hold of his collar and led him to a table covered in a variety of equipment.

"I offer a wide range of role plays, during which the slave has to follow orders." She addressed her slave.

"Sit!"

He sat down.

"Down! Heel!"

He lay down obediently at her feet.

"Good boy!" she praised him and scratched his smooth latex head.

"These scenes can, of course, also include student/teacher role play. The slave is the student and, for example, if he gives a wrong answer, he is punished with a cane, on his tush." She took a cane she had prepared in advance and dealt his ass a juicy blow so that he flinched with a loud moan, drool dripping off his chin.

"Spanking, as a punishment, can be carried out with whips, riding crops, canes and other implements." She showed Virgil the implements she just listed and demonstrated each of them with multiple, increasingly violent blows to the man who was cowering at her feet. Each implement coaxed a slightly different sound from the slave, some more subdued, some more shrill, while Lady Logan underpinned her demonstration with explanations about the different types of pain she was inflicting.

Virgil also flinched each time the implements cracked loudly against the latex-covered ass. Was he really enjoying that? That had to hurt a lot… But the man kept snuggling up to Lady Logan’s legs, even as he was writhing in pain, and presenting her his ass expectantly. Virgil realized that there was a tacit agreement between them. Together, they ran like a well-oiled machine.

Satisfied with her demonstration, and the reactions it had provoked from both attendees, the mistress turned back to Virgil.

"Other types of role play that I offer include, for example, medical fetishes. For these, the slave is tied down on a gynecological chair. One possible variant is wicked head nurse/patient." With those words, she also presented a plethora of medical instruments, including catheters, syringes and a stethoscope. Syringes kind of scared Virgil. The stethoscope, on the other hand, he actually imagined to be quite pleasant, the cold metal against his skin as the mistress checked his pulse. The mere thought made his heart pick up the pace.

"And this gentleman here," she grabbed the green slave by his nape again, "also has a penchant for champagne and caviar." A small shiver ran down Virgil’s spine, his eyes darting fearfully towards the toilet fixture sat against the wall, the purpose of which was all too obvious. Naturally, this didn’t escape the mistress’ notice. "Unfortunately for him, he won’t be getting any of that tonight. We have a guest, after all. Disgusting, pathetic scumbag!" She pushed him away and punctuated each word with a kick to his thighs.

"Back in the cage you go!" He hurriedly fumbled back to the cage, still on all fours. Seemingly losing her patience, she kicked him again, this time his ass, leaving him to stumble into the cage. "Don’t forget your place, slave." She slowly bent down towards him. Breathing heavily, he nuzzled her hand caressing his latex cheek almost affectionately. She pulled away and said her goodbye with one last kick with the point of her shoe right into his groin. His painful scream was only partially muffled by the gag in his mouth. His breathing grew even more laboured. Frothy white beads of spittle ran down his smooth, glossy chest.

She turned her back on him. "We’re leaving." Again, Virgil followed Lady Logan without a word, even though he could not help but catch one last worried glimpse of the whimpering green mess in his cage. When the door had closed behind him, he whispered, "Is he… going to be okay?"

"Your concern is commendable but unwarranted," she told him calmly. "He is used to much worse and he knows his limits. After the long day he’s had today, he will appreciate the little break."

"Oh, okay then…" That eased Virgil’s worries a little, even if the cry of pain from just a moment ago was still ringing in his ears. Lady Logan opened a door to her right and led him into another playroom. Here, too, the light was dim and warm-toned.

"Regarding the restraints: There are two options. Firstly, practical fixation to the respective equipment, such as the rack, gallows and gynecological chair." She pointed out each of these pieces of furniture in their respective corners of the room. "And secondly, bondage: restraining the slave to the point of complete immobility." She pointed to a large collection of ropes, spreader bars and all sorts of other implements that she kept handily displayed on the far wall. "Although, one does certainly not exclude the other. Do you have any more questions?"

Virgil shook his head. So far, everything had been much more approachable than he had imagined. Lady Logan really gave it her all and he really appreciated that.

"In that case, we can get started right away."

Virgil could only nod. Finding his words with all these new impressions was not exactly easy.

"Strip to the waist!" She ordered, with a hint of the severity she had used earlier on Remus.

Virgil let his jacket slip off his shoulders. Without it, he immediately felt so much more exposed under Lady Logan’s keen gaze. Hesitantly, he also pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Fold your clothes neatly and then come here!"

Virgil approached the dominatrix skittishly, unsure about what to do with his hands and arms, which were nervously opening and closing, restlessly hugging themselves and crossing over each other.

"Arms behind your back, insides of the forearms together!" the mistress instructed him, leaving no room for protest. "Close your eyes and listen carefully!" Virgil closed his eyes tightly and nodded. Her voice was suddenly very close to his ear. "I’m going to tie you up so that you’re helplessly at my mercy." Virgil’s neck tingled with excitement.

She unrolled one of her handy dark blue ropes and let it run loosely across his throat. "We’ll be working with hemp ropes today. They’re a little rougher than jute or cotton, and quite… unyielding," she whispered in his ear as she leisurely stepped around him. The rope tickled across Virgil’s unprotected Adam’s apple. Behind his back, slender fingers caressed his crossed arms.

"This position prevents the tightness of the ropes from interfering with your circulation or from damaging any nerves." She passed the bight of the doubled rope up between his arms and his back and pulled the rope tight over his wrists with a firm tug, pressing their vulnerable inner sides close together.

She wrapped the rope around his wrists once more, letting the long ends slide smoothly over his bare arms.

Virgil felt the rope creep up along his spine.

A strong hand seized him by the shoulder and slowly spun him around his own axis. The rope encircled his upper arms and chest and nestled snugly against the underside of his pectoral muscles. Tighter and tighter it pulled, digging into his upper arms slightly. Breathing became noticeably harder. He fought against the instinct to breathe more shallowly. He wanted to feel the rope bite into him with every breath.

Once more he was slowly turned around his axis. This time the rope came to rest above his pecs. A delighted sigh fading into regular, slightly strained breathing as the rope was cinched tightly behind his back.

Next, the rope moved forward over his shoulder, always careful not to twist and to lay nice and flat. Just above his sternum, it was entwined with the other sections already running across his chest.

Again, heat rose in Virgil’s cheeks. If only the mistress could leave her warm hand there to rest on his chest. But she was already slipping away, taking the rope with her over his other shoulder to lock it between his shoulder blades and under his armpits.

Lady Logan ran her fingers over the knots appreciatively. Her hands continued to wander, running a few times along his arms. Over his shoulders. Over his chest. Tugging lightly on the ropes to get them to lay just so.

"You look exquisite ," she whispered in his ear. Virgil almost chocked on his saliva.

"Give me a colour."

"Green," he croaked quietly, while his ears turned a deep red.

"Very well." She boldly took hold of the front of his harness and pulled him in . "Walk with me." He let her lead him around the room, his eyes still closed, until he completely lost his bearings; he followed her as if in a trance. The rope rubbed lightly back and forth with every step. In his arms, on his chest, around his wrists. It scratched a little, but it didn’t hurt. Not yet.

"On your knees!" she ordered, finally, and he obeyed. His knee s met a large leather cushion. "Bend over!" This too he did, as well as he could, without falling over. But the mistress pushed his face down into the cushion so that his rear end stuck up, unprotected. With his arms tied, Virgil found himself unable to free himself from this predicament. But that thought didn’t even cross his mind.

"I’m going to spank your bottom now." The mistress let the announcement promisingly hang in the air for a moment. Virgil could hardly contain his excitement. And then, the paddle slapped across both his cheeks. Even through his jeans, he could feel it plainly , eliciting a dull oof from him.

"When we feel pain, endorphins are released in the brain." Another smack, a touch firmer this time. "On top of that, there are many nerve endings in the pelvic region that lead directly to the pleasure center of the brain." Smack! A little firmer again. "So it is not at all surprising that so many people find spanking pleasurable." And another. And another. And another.

Virgil was almost embarrassed by how much he was moaning, how heavily he was breathing. He tried to hold it back, to somehow preserve the last remnants of his dignity, but the mistress encouraged him to let it go, to let it all out. And the more she hit him, the easier it got. His rear end felt like it was on fire, hot and crackling, and this sensation soon overpowered any and all other thoughts that might still have hung onto his brain. The ropes encircled his narrowing world: Nothing existed anymore beside the s talwart hand on his back, the easy, steady rhythm of the paddle, and the ravishing voice that enveloped him like a cozy cocoon.

Slowly but surely, the blows eased up; until finally they stopped completely. The hand that had pushed him into the ground just moments ago now helped him sit back up and loosened the ropes with skilled efficiency. Virgil blinked, disoriented, his eyelids heavy. Was it over already? It couldn’t possibly have been a whole hour… Absentmindedly, he rubbed his sore wrists.

"I have some lotion for the chafing, if you need it," Lady Logan said as she put a blanket around his shoulders. Virgil hadn’t even noticed how cold he was.

"Yes, please, that would be great." His icy fingers closed around a cup of hot tea. Where had that suddenly come from? Next to him on the floor, he also spotted a plate of jelly donuts.

"It’s important to get your blood sugar back up after a scene." Lady Logan handed him the lotion and sat down next to him on the large leather cushion, her own tea in hand. "I found our session today most enjoyable. I hope you did so as well."

That he definitively did. "It ended up being a lot less scary than I had imagined." His head was still swimming a little, but Virgil certainly didn’t regret having come here. He continued to sip his tea and snuck one of the jelly donuts. "Could we maybe try a blindfold next time?"