Stories - Domina München

Elevator surprise

Today - after consultation with “Fridolin in Humility”,
who of course has a different name in real life, I have thought up
a surprise that will be given to him before he enters my studio...:

When he gets into the elevator, various “utensils” await him,
with which he can certainly amuse me more than usual!
A diving suit and matching goggles hang above a narrow kitchen chair.
Next to it on the floor are flippers in his shoe size.
There is also a plastic paddling pool that still needs to be inflated.
When Fridolin sees the tiny foot pump with adapter, he has a bad feeling...
Unusual, sporty exercises await him.
I've asked him in big letters on a piece of paper,
to undress and change completely and only then with the fins on his feet,
with the diving goggles on his face, to operate the air pump!

When the elevator door opens

at the end of this exhausting yet ridiculous procedure,

he sees two large watering cans standing next to the studio entrance

and knows exactly what he has to do now

He presses the bell expectantly,

stands in the water with his flippers “decorated” feet
and can only just turn his head to the side when

- after I open the door for him -
a slippery rubber fish flies around his ears!

Everything else remains our personal secret.

It is not :

“The fairy tale of one who set out to learn to fear

” - by the Brothers Grimm –

but the story of a slave who tried
to move out into a new, different SM world.

Some time ago I looked elsewhere - another studio - and fell flat on my face!

My mistress laughs at me,

when I tell her this and encourages me to go into details.

Here is my report:

my ideas remained illusions -

my inclinations were not respected -
my taboos were not accepted -
my idea of SM was not practiced -

little competence -
little fascination -
little passion -
little intellect -

I found the equipment inadequate -
the furniture inspired me imaginatively -
the hygiene was anything but impressive -
the discretion left a lot to be desired -

I understand silence in the studio during a session to mean something else -

Now one of the aforementioned sessions was over,

for me simple and emotionless,
I felt unsatisfied, even duped and disappointed.
I looked at myself and at my watch

and thought to myself - in a rather light-hearted posture -
“that's it again” or ‘why am I doing this to myself again’,
and “why don't I realize from the start that this is not going to work out there!

My mistress then answers my questions :
“because you are always exposed anew to your salaciousness
and your sexual desire
and you never give up your hope of finding an even nicer studio

- with an even stricter mistress, that is even better suited to you -

psychologically and physically - and of even higher quality!

After this explanation, I feel even more lost,
and I know exactly where I will stay and find myself for the time being!

Yes, indeed, building a snowman is fun.

It's been cold for many days now
- really frosty, more than minus 15 degrees!

Unfortunately, I have told my mistress

that I will soon be going to Norway as a doctor.
They have made me a good offer there,
I have acquired the necessary language skills in a 3-month course.
My mistress thinks

I already have to get used to the cold and the associated effects

- in reality she is thinking of the “icy torments” with her in the outdoor studio...
When she shows me the totally snow-covered roof terrace through the double doors,

I have an idea of what's in store for me:

Of course !
After the shower, my hands and ankles are bound with metal cuffs,
I am given a silver-colored neck corset around my neck.
The mistress looks at my stomach,

“It's time for you to go to the home of the fish,
hopefully you'll lose a lot of weight there, you can't miss your „satchel“!
Before I can say anything in reply about protection against the cold,

referring to the Eskimos, who - sensibly enough ! - eat oily and greasy food,

she has already wrapped what she mockingly calls my “paunch” in a black leather corsage

and is tying it up tightly at the back.
I try to breathe deeply.
Madame comments: “Take yourself out onto the roof garden,

you'll get to breathe a lot more than you'd like,

So I stand there, naked, freezing and looking around.
My mistress comes with a small shovel
that reminds me of childhood days gone by,

when we used to dig in the sand and build castles on an East Frisian island by the sea.

I can imagine what she expects from me now!

I shovel and dig in the heavy snow,
I shape and roll the white splendor.

I don't even notice whether I'm sweating or freezing.
My feet and hands tingle, my body starts to tremble.

Then - after quite a while - it finally presents itself !
A white, half-height monster, consisting of a thick, round lower part
and a smaller top, which is supposed to represent a head.

“Well done, very nice,” praises my trusted master.
“You deserve a reward before you turn into a make-up artist.”
I look at her, questioning and shivering, my teeth chattering.

Now comes salvation :
Madame fetches a large, wide fur coat
and lets me slip into it - what a warming blessing!
After I have dressed the snowman - SM-style, of course
equipped with a mask, gag, collar and vinyl skirt
and, to finish it off, put several canes in his icy body,
my mistress claps her hands - clad in latex gloves - almost appreciatively
and encourages me to walk towards the patio door with a wave of her arm.

The inside session I've been longing for for hours can finally begin.

A submissive servant tells :

I've only been back in the country for two days

and have been nervous since last night,

because at this time I have received my new appointment

with my highly honored mistress.

With my head bowed,

I stand one meter away in front of the entrance door to her dominatrix studio in Munich/Bavaria.
When she opens the door, I take a step forward
to below the door frame and fall to my knees in front of her.

I humbly try to touch the black patent leather boot on her right leg

with my tongue.
Abruptly, she pulls her leg back.

“Stop that, my servant,” she chides me,
“You get up right now and explain to me properly and clearly,
while you undress, where you've been for so long!”

Dazed, I straighten up and squint at the open door.

“Are you going to close it, or do you think that's my job?”
she watches me sternly and gives me a rough shove.
I turn around and quietly close the door.

“So, what is it,” she asks impatiently, her eyes fixed on my body,
as I stand in front of her in my underwear and socks.
“Oh, you know, mistress,” I murmur,

”I know I should have said goodbye first,
but this business trip came so suddenly that ...”
“...that your fine, always manicured”,

she draws out the ‘ü’ dangerously long in a higher voice,
“fingers were unable to dial my telephone number”,
she interrupts my words, laughing loudly and sarcastically.

Unsure, I put my arms back and hear myself quietly
“You're right, mistress, punish me for it”.
At that moment she starts slapping me :
right cheek two, left cheek two, over and over again,
She says the individual digits of her phone number loudly and clearly.
I swallow wordlessly and let it all wash over me.

Her phone number is long,

it's the mobile number with eleven digits.
My cheeks glow painfully when she finally stops.

“That was the small appetizer,” she explains energetically,
“I'll take more time than usual for the main dish”,
She stands threateningly in front of me and pulls my arms,

which are folded behind me, forward.
My trembling only earns me a smug

“well, my nothing of a worm.
Now we'll continue in a cozy, appropriate atmosphere,
In no time at all, she has - slapdash -

tied both my hands at the ends with a short rope.

Her right hand reaches into the middle of the tight fixation,
and then she pulls me behind her into her dominant realm,
her dungeon, her place of pleasure,

to chastise and torment me, the naughty man

Elitist piggies

Today my piglet has announced its arrival.

I have laid out a straw-like blanket on the floor,
a wooden bowl for water and an old ceramic plate with leftover food.
I look happily into the nervous eyes of Valentin, my slaughter boar,
as he stands opposite me in the hallway of my SM studio in Munich/Bavaria and grunts slightly.

I send him upstairs to the bathroom and recommend that he
to pat the powder provided on his skin after showering.
He dutifully follows my advice and, at my command, puts on
a pink-colored full suit made of thin nylon.
The Swiss hosiery company “F.” would have a field day...

Then I put a heavy-duty pig mask on him,
firmly on his head and neck.

Valentin begins to grunt and lies down on the marble floor.
I fasten a thick cord around his right hind foot,
His hands are tied behind his back with light ropes.
My slender piglet makes a noise

I wrap it in a thick jute potato sack and drag it out of my

BDSM studio in Munich/Bavaria across the hallway

to the containers in the backyard.
After all, Valentin should not tear the fine suit,

which fits as tightly as a pantyhose but protect it.

As a real pig without a jute sack,

he can wallow in the container to his heart's content,
He drinks, burps and eats accordingly...

Later in my kitchen...
What I then do with the funny, loudly squealing animal will not be revealed.
I'll just say that we both had a great time!

The performed magic with a chest

Servant A. normally comes regularly

to my own private dominatrix studio in Munich -- .

Even last time, the situation seemed far too friendly, almost funny.
I had hired a nice young lady who was constantly laughing,
perhaps another reason why I considered the atmosphere.
To regard the atmosphere from my point of view

as being too unserious and inappropriate.

I felt all the better today.

Servant A. hadn't been here for almost half a year

due to business trips abroad.
He had always contacted me in between
and talked about his longings for torturous ordeals, but that was it.

Now the opportunity has come for me,
to finally confront him more viciously than I have for a long time.
As soon as he walks through the door,

I give him four powerful slaps - two on the right and two on the left.
Then he immediately has to strip down to his underpants.

My new, black punishment box is waiting for him in my salon

with all its dangerous openings - right next to the bar...

Servant A. is too big in terms of girth, no problem for us.
There are plenty of corsets on the second floor with strong straps

to constrict his masses, until it almost takes his breath away.

But : now he fits into the box.
When I can only see his head and hands sticking out,

his trembling feet in front,
I realize how good it was

that I've been building up the anger and rage for him

over the last few months!!