Daniel’s Cruel German Mistress

by Regina von Strikt

  “Thank you, Mistress Babette.”

  It actually felt perverse to thank her for arranging my torture somewhat more bearably, but I wanted to keep her in a good mood.

  I was even allowed to blow into a paper towel and then I could breathe properly again. She placed the chastity device back on my cock and put the key in the box. When she spread a little bit of white powder on the blank table, it took me a while to understand what she was doing. She rolled up a bank note to snort the cocaine into her nose. I had no idea of these things, but the dose seemed plentiful.

  She disappeared behind a half wall. I heard two slapping noises, like a hand hitting skin and her sharp command:

  “Up, get that ass up!”

  Then the sounds calmed down. Only breathing noises and a sigh every now and then. They were getting it on, while I had to wait bound and tortured. Shamelessly, their noises grew louder. The boy gave small short cries and Babette moaned with her dark voice. Suddenly she roared like an animal. Inverted world, I thought. But I guessed that she’d probably just come.

  "Get dressed and get out," Babette said in that commanding tone. When the boy was standing in the elevator, she called after him:

  "Tell Leone to send the new boy with the curls next time."

  The boy confirmed this and Babette sent the elevator down. Then she turned to me. She took the gag off.

  "You may moan now,” she said.

  Then she used a hard, bristly brush and rubbed my raw skin intensively. I whined loudly during the treatment. Afterwards, she rubbed a pain-relieving ointment on my sore skin. Normally touches like that would led to an immediate erection. But the pain was still too intense. She loosened my shackles. I rubbed my sore wrists. But she didn't give me much time to recover. I had to get dressed quickly before she sent me away. Of course, I was happy about that at least, and hurried to get out of the apartment.

  The Bootcamp

  I called Michelle while I was still in the car, admittedly complaining about Babette's rude treatment, so to speak.

  “I know that she can be quite rough. That helps in her work as a fitness coach. And when it comes to men, okay, she's really mean to them sometimes.”

  I found mean was a rather mild description of what Babette had done to me.

  “But what counts is the result, and I'm sure she was very thorough, right?”

  “Definitely. I'm still in a lot of pain now.”

  “Come on, don’t act like a wimp now. Think about why you went through this.”

  The thought of feeling her sucking mouth on my testicles immediately shot my mind into overdrive.

  “I think of nothing else, Michelle. Are you coming to my place?”

  “I'm sitting in Leone's restaurant right now and enjoying a meal. Why don’t you come here?”

  I didn't really like the idea of meeting her in public right now. After all, I wanted my reward for the ordeal as soon as possible. I also didn't necessarily want to meet the little waiter who had seen me naked and tied up at Babette’s. But I still agreed to come over, albeit with little enthusiasm. A little later I entered the restaurant. This time, the usher led me directly to Michelle's table. It wasn't the boy I had seen at Babette's; he was a handsome boy with curly hair. Michelle, of course, looked good enough to eat. She wore a navy blue dress with a silver floral pattern on her left breast that was hugging her curves. The key to my happiness hung on a chain around her neck. We kissed in greeting and I sat down across from her. She was enjoying a shrimp salad and drank a glass of wine. I ordered a water.

  “Did you know that Babette is having all these guys here do her?” I asked her and made a circular hand movement that included all the staff.

  “I don't think that’s how I would put it. It's probably the other way around.”

  I didn't realize just how right she was at the time.

  “She pretty much orders these guys for take-out. She’d make a pretty good dominatrix,” I replied, still irritated by my treatment and the things I’d seen.

  Michelle smiled.

  “Do you think so? Well Leone is obliged to her, in a way. That's why he sends her his boytoys whenever she wants. The little faggots are used to doing as they are told.”

  I found her crude language somewhat out of place, but said nothing about it. I preferred to switch topic to the thing most ardently burning on my mind.

  “Can we go to my place afterwards? I can't get this one thing out of my head.”

  The curly-haired boy was just clearing the table. But she still replied as bluntly as ever.

  “You mean the ball suckling?”

  I felt myself turning red and nodded silently. The boy seemed to try to keep himself from smirking.

  “I'm so sorry about that, Daniel, but I have to go out of town for a few days. So, your balls will have to wait just a little longer.”

  She looked at me like I was a child and she was explaining to me that Christmas was cancelled. She licked some salad dressing from her bright red lips. The waiter grinned broadly, but then left with the dishes, thank God. I found myself hoping that Babette would put him in her torture frame some time soon. But then I felt the disappointment spreading through me. Apparently, that was pretty obvious from looking at me. Michelle took my hand in hers and stroked the back of it with her thumb.

  “Now do not be sad. It’s just postponed, promise.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “A week.”

  “But how? I mean your job in the kindergarten, it’s the middle of the year, no vacation in sight.”

  “Don't worry about that,” she said laughing. “There was a burst water pipe and the whole shop went under water. I have to take advantage of that.”

  I cursed the water damage internally.

  Out loud, I said: "But I let Babette torture me just so I could have this."

  She pulled her hand back and sat up straight. It made her nipples press visibly against the fabric.

  “No Daniel. Not because of that. You had your hair removed because I wanted it that way. Because I want you that way. The fact that you would do anything to please me does not mean that you can make any demands of me. It just... gives you a certain chance of a pleasurable future with me.”

  As she spoke, she took the silver chain between her fingers and let the little key swing back and forth. As if hypnotized, I stared at it. I fell into a certain kind of trance.

  “I also want you to work on your fitness. I want you to train with Babette while I’m away. Do you understand Daniel?”

  “Yes Michelle. If that's what you want.”

  I was completely at her mercy in that moment. She got up, grabbed her handbag and went to the bar behind which Leone was supervising his place, like a general in a battle. She whispered with him and he looked over at me with a grin. I lowered my gaze, and suddenly realized what it was that I had just agreed to. An invisible hand was clutching my heart. Fitness training under Babette’s thumb. I had to get out of it, somehow.

  I heard a finger snap and looked up. Michelle waved me over. I got up and went to her. She led me to a door with a sign that said: Private!

  Behind it was a staircase and I followed her up. I looked longingly at her ass as she climbed the stairs. Under the short dress, I saw that she was not wearing any panties again. What a slut. Where was she taking me? What was this new surprise she had in store for me? My tension rose with the pressure in the cock cage. She opened the door to an apartment on the first floor. It was not difficult to see what its main purpose was. There where phallic sculptures everywhere and male nudes on the walls. But there were also whips and dildos. A huge bed dominated the main room. Beside it stood a leather spanking horse, just like the ones I’d seen online.

  “Leone rides his boys here. He lures them in with jobs in the restaurant. The tips here are exorbitant. He also makes sure that they are willing little fags when recruiting them,” Michelle explained.

  “I don’t think they are entirely immune to female charms
, though,” I said.

  Michelle laughed.

  “You mean the scene you witnessed with Babette? Well, Daniel, as I said, Leone is obliged to Babette and the boys are not asked. As if.”

  There was that flash of cruelty in her eyes. Like it seemed perfectly natural to her that people like her or Babette would dispose of others as they pleased. Of me, for instance. It was with that same natural ease that she asked me to take off my clothes.

  Obediently I took off my clothes until I was naked except for the chastity device. The thing seemed to be as much part of me now as my glasses were. Michelle handed me a pair of handcuffs from her pocket. Almost routinely I snapped them on behind my back. Michelle seemed satisfied. She took the key from my neck and let it swing a little before my eyes, before she squatted down and opened the cage for me. Of course, my cock took immediate advantage of its sudden freedom. Cheekily, it rose and stretched out towards her demandingly. She made him grow even stiffer as she started to caress my balls. Then she took a step back, just looking at me.

  “It looks really great, so completely hairless. Makes it look a lot bigger than it is.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t like the way she phrased that.

  Instead I asked: “Do you think you could do that thing with my balls now, you know...?”

  She shook her head reluctantly and answered:

  “You can't think of anything else, can you?”

  I just shrugged my shoulders. She was right.

  “You know Daniel, the more you whine, the less I feel like it. I want you to learn to be patient and leave the decisions about our sex life to me.”

  Again, I didn’t say anything. Whenever she was angry, my heart had a tendency to slip into my pants. I stood there like a little boy who let himself be scolded. I had no doubt that my chance at getting the experience I wanted, so longed for. So at least I could bring up my other problem.

  “But do I really have to go back to Babette?”

  “Yes, I want it that way. You are so unfit, too fat and without discipline. She can dive these things out of you all at once.”

  “But she is so mean and tough.”

  “She's not mean, she's strict. And if you were honest with yourself Daniel, you would realize that this is exactly what you need. You have a submissive personality, and you need a woman who tells you what to do. You are not a man who takes what he wants. You are someone who waits, well-behaved, for what he is given. You queue up in the very back. That's why you should be glad that I’m taking care of you.”

  The caring educator in her was coming through again. Tenderly, she let her fingers glide over my excited shaft. Her bracelets jangled quietly. It was a sound that had entranced me from the start. I thought about her words. Of course, she was right. After all, part of why I was so addicted to her was because she was so decisive. Back when we met, it was her self-confident and commanding air that had fascinated me. But now, she had led me to a point I could never have imagined. That combination of sexual temptations on the one hand and her dominance on the other had plunged me into an emotional roller coaster from which there was no escape. The constant threat to end our relationship made me mutate into an obedient and almost spineless submissive.

  I had to admit to myself that I was bonded to her.

  But my fear of Babette was also immense. That's why I didn't give up.

  “Did you know that Babette is taking drugs?”

  Michelle laughed amused.

  “My God, you sound so stuffy right now. She treats herself to a little coke now and then. So what? What do you think how many of the guests here at Leone’s do coke? In these circles that’s just what you do. Why do you think Leone let’s her play with his boy toys?”

  “You mean she gets cocaine for him?”

  Michelle only narrowed her eyes but said nothing more about it. Instead, her other hand grabbed my testicles and gently massaged them. My lust soared into heights which my reasoned mind could not reach. I groaned and moved my pelvis uncontrollably. She was a master of delay. Balanced my desire exactly on the narrow ridge between orgasm and the last second before I came. She watched me amusedly in my distress. Every time I believed to have reached the point of no return, her hands let go of my shaft and my balls. Just to continue with her tender, but also cruel game immediately afterwards.

  “I want you to train a few hours with Babette every day after work, starting Monday, understand?”

  “Yes, Michelle. Anything you want.”

  “You'll do everything she says.”

  “Yes, Michelle.”

  “You will make an effort and submit to her training concept without grumbling.”

  “Yes, Michelle.”

  “The weekend will be the crowning finale. You will be at her disposal for two days. I want you to lose at least ten pounds.”

  “Yes, Michelle.”

  “I'll have her tell me how you did, and if you were good, I'll suck your balls for as long as you want. If she's not happy with you, you get the cane and you won't cum for a month.”

  “Yes, Michelle.”

  She smiled contentedly and then grabbed my testicles with a strong grip, and my jizz shot up in a high arch only to land on the parquet floor.

  On Monday I drove straight from work to this quarry, which Babette had rented for her boot camp. She had described the way, but I still had trouble finding it. Just in time, I parked my car in a graveled spot next to a large iron gate. It was open, and I hurried through. A dusty path, just wide enough to accommodate a truck, led downhill. After serpentining downwards, the path opened up into an area about the size of two football pitches. Some of it was overgrown by bushes, in others, the ground was covered in dusty sand. Behind the area, there was a small lake and in some depressions in the ground, water stood and formed boggy pools. An ideal terrain to let off steam. After about two hundred meters, I came to two white shipping containers. Next to the first one stood a heavy Japanese motorcycle: black frame, a dragon emblazoned on the red tank. It couldn’t be anyone’s motorcycle but Babette’s.

  I stopped walking, feeling a lump in my throat. I was suddenly starkly and depressingly aware of what lay in store for me. Then she appeared from the shadow of the container and looked at me. She was wearing military trousers in desert camouflage colors and heavy lace-up boots. A tight undershirt made of fine rib fabric showed her luscious breasts. On her belt, she wore some frightening equipment. A sturdy leather crop was stuck in her bootleg. My heart stopped in its tracks when I saw her.

  “Did you close the gate behind you?” she asked aggressively by way of a greeting.

  “No Babette, uh mistress, I...”

  “Go and lock the gate. You still have two minutes.”

  I turned around on my heel and hurried up the path. On the way down, it had not occurred to me just how steep it was. I didn’t get further than the serpentine path before I started wheezing. I was sweating strongly despite the fact that the weather was getting cooler. Finally, I arrived at the top, and slammed the gate shut angrily. Then I ran back down the path. Babette waited for me with her legs apart and her arms crossed in front of her chest, standing in the shade of a sun sail that someone had propped up between the containers. Wrestling for breath, I stopped two meters in front of her and looked at her anxiously.

  “Strip!”

  Her command came calmly, but tolerated no contradiction. I undressed down to my chastity device and placed my clothes over one of those disgusting white camping chairs that disfigured every corner of the world. She looked at her wristwatch.

  “You are twenty-four seconds late. I don't accept tardiness. And just so you get some idea just how I run this place, you'll get the corresponding number of crop lashes across your naked ass.”

  My stomach cramped and I stared at the crop in her boot.

  “Babette please, I am here because Michelle wants me to do something for my...”

  She interrupted me and pointed to two wooden pallets stacked a few meters t
o her left.

  “Climb on it. On all fours!”

  Hanging my head, I obediently climbed onto the pallets. On my hands and knees, I stared at the sand in front of me. Babette stepped into my field of vision and I stared at her heavy boots. Slowly she pulled the crop from out of the shaft. She brought the leather loop tip to my chin and lifted my head. I was forced to look up at her, her high cheekbones and brown almond eyes. Her brightly painted lips were pulled into a mocking smirk. But she did have an exotic charm with that long black hair.

  “You will feel what happens when I am dissatisfied with you. This will increase your motivation. After all, we want Michelle to be satisfied with the result.”

  I was here because of Michelle. For no other reason. Babette walked around the stack, standing behind me, and her flat hand stroked over my back. The touch had almost something comforting. But then I felt her hand pinching my ass, and then following it up with a few pats of her crop. I took a deep breath and tensed my buttocks. But the force of the first blow hit me unprepared. I screamed out my pain. Shit, that hurt.

  “Go ahead and scream. Nobody can hear you.”

  The next blow was no less violent. The two welts stretched across my buttocks like two burn marks. The crop hissed every time before it hit my skin – intimidating and evil. Zack, zack, zack. Without giving me a breather, she continued to strike. After the tenth crack, I began to sob, but that didn't bother Babette. She deliberately aimed one blow after the other. My ass burned like fire. Tears ran down my cheeks and I sniffed audibly.

  But finally, it was over. Babette patted my bottom.

  “Now stop crying, you pussy,” she said.

  I tried to suppress my sobs.

  “Climb down. We'll start with a light warm-up.”