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01/2019 Slaves Locked Up

A slave locked up… This typical scenario in the BDSM world also looks pointless and – let’s be honest – ridiculous from the outside. A local dominatrix locks a slave in a cage, goes into the next room, smokes a cigarette, and earns her money by reading the latest issue of Brigitte.

It may be that there are such colleagues, but it is rather unlikely because they would not have understood what makes this seemingly simple game so damn hot for both parties. Let’s take a closer look at this facet – of what being locked up is about – and find out.


Slave Ulrich locked up

Slave Ulrich (not in the pictures) has been with me regularly since my first Box guest blog appeared. A real leather fan, in his early 50s, powerfully built and with a sympathetic insecurity, he always appears „military submissive“ in front of me. We celebrated our first games in military outfits, of course, but also in classic cages with bars.

The new course room at Lux offers a beautifully disgusting hole for locking up. The hole is built into a large podium that should only be used for lectures or BDSM shows. It doesn’t even offer the luxury of a view through the bars, but is made of pressboard all around, which means in plain English: It will be cold, stuffy, and dark.

After some foreplay, I force him loudly: „Get in the hole, you pig!“

I point to the open hatch on the pedestal, showing my slave the way. A few steps up and he crawls in, accompanied by my demanding, „Well, hurry up!“ I don’t want him to think he’s off to a cuddle corner now – he’s IN MY CAGE and won’t come out until I let him.

Yes, it may sound silly, because safe words can sometimes bring BDSM games to a quick end. But if you get involved to feel these feelings, you will feel them – for sure. Once I’m really immersed in such a game, my feelings are transferred to the other person – that has always been the case. Maybe this is an essential trait of people who offer such games commercially?

Locked up with a bam

I slam the hatch shut with a bang and stand on it, using my weight to close it. „Then try to get out of there, you pig.“

I feel him try to open the hatch as instructed, but he doesn’t make it even a millimeter. „Well, it didn’t work, huh?“ I say in a cynical tone of voice. „Well, I guess you’re trapped now. Let’s see if and when I let you out of there. I guess you’ll have to be good and hang in there, and FYI, slave: constant pussy-whipping back and forth, whining, or even trying to escape will prolong your stay or result in some painful education. Do you understand?“

„Yes, Master,“ he replies.

I don’t move at all. I know he’s getting scared – I can feel it through the damn wooden ceiling and it’s hot. All of his emotions are focused on me. What am I going to do? Will I read Brigitte and just ignore him? Will I torture him and piss in the hole as I once threatened?

I can guess what kind of chaos there is in his head, but for now, I just continue not to move. He only comes out when I let him. He knows I’m standing on the hatch, enjoying my power. His questions will increase as a result…. „Why isn’t my master moving? Has he pulled out his dick and is about to piss in the hole? Is he jerking off to the situation? Is he jerking off to something else? Is he going to open the hatch again and force me out?“

I’m moving around on the platform now. My leather boots throb like an admiral’s on wood – glorious. I know I’m fueling his thoughts even more because the sound seems three times more intense in the hole – especially when you see nothing. I prepare the third part of the game in the room and gather toys for it. He hears clicks and clacks, but can’t put anything to it.

Locked up while deprived of his senses

He hears my footsteps again, and I reinforce his feelings by saying loudly and joyfully to myself: „Oh yes, this is the right thing for my sow… this one too… oooh, and that will do him good!“

He remains motionless, only his breathing becomes more rapid – I think the air in the hole is getting ominously thin. I return to the hatch and he hears my footsteps coming toward him again. Nice and slow, hard and strong. The hatch has an extra opening for the prisoner to stick his head through and then secure it in place.

I notice that he’s trembling. I caress him and praise him for having endured this for so long, to ensure his fears don’t get the upper hand, for then they wouldn’t be pleasurable, but negative. You have to pay attention and use the right measure in everything.

After he has calmed down a bit and I see that he has regained his courage, I begin to talk to him again a little more confidently. „You can’t move, can you? Do I have your head here for my pleasure now, huh? Now I can do anything I want. I could spit on you, for instance.“

„Yes, master,“ he answers, and I can tell by the speed of his answer that he is ready for it. I bring a bottle of beer, open it and drink. I take my time and enjoy how he has to watch me because of the fixation of his head. I subtly raise an eyebrow and then spit on him without comment. A slight moan escapes him and I realize: This is getting us both worked up.

I take another drink and the situation is like a cat torturing a mouse that has already been killed but is still alive.

Slaves locked up – I love it

A cat also always takes its time with it and enjoys this power – they’re great animals. I spit on him a few more times until I realize that this action no longer ignites. I comment on this as follows: „Oh, did my slave just cool down, huh? Then I guess we’ll have to increase the difficulty level.“

I calmly put the bottle of beer aside and slap him subtly. He’s startled. I slap him again and combine that with spitting on him and saying, „You cunt.“

Next time, everything again but a little harder and louder. We do this until we’ve reached the maximum and he’s become used to it. I notice how I get off on the situation. No shackles that can come loose and out you as a „bondage fool“ (I confess!), but a disgusting hole, with your play partner completely at your mercy. Try it out, try the power play of being locked up – the feelings go damn deep.

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