It was clear to me that the publication of pictures showing Dominus in uniform would possibly be put into a political context. Therefore, I left additional comments in all media that Dominus does not act politically in any way. There are no swastikas or other signs of political affiliation on the Dominus uniform. These pictures illustrate the appeal of uniforms, because even more than with leather, the imbalance of power is manifested through this type of clothing.
The uniform role play begins
Everyone, even those who are not fetishists, can understand how it must feel to be at the mercy of the military. Even the thought of being subtly taken away by the SS in Germany in the thirties/forties, or (looking at it today) ending up in Guantanamo by an unfortunate coincidence, certainly triggers a feeling of fear and discomfort in most people. However, there is a very large group of people for whom this situation is like a kiss.
We doms create such situations artificially in our establishments, but the effect is not missed even in such contexts with safe words. Just a few hours after the pictures were published, my phone rang and a soft, timid voice with an American accent asked me if I was a Nazi.
„No, I’m not. In my photos, I pick up on the aesthetic of uniforms – but I’m not political in any way.“ In remarkably few sentences, he outlines his need to be condemned, caught, and punished for his homosexuality. He emphasizes several times how important the uniform is to him, and that it is imperative that I be dressed exactly as in the pictures at the session. With fetishists it’s common that you can’t just put on a different version of the object of their desire. But I like to pay attention to that.
I order him to appear disgustingly early the next morning. I like to use the „get up early“ element of the game because it is stylistically consistent with the beautiful, perverse intention. Conveniently, all the rooms are available to me in the morning, as my colleagues usually start later. With this client I also start the game right in front of the door. This is especially good for these role plays.
Like all the other clients, he follows my instructions, which I give him over the intercom, and walks briskly along the path to the Lux. I have hidden right next to the second entrance and wait for him to pass me to reach his destination, the last door.
After he has passed me by a few meters, I yell from the background, „Hey! Where are you going?“ My client jerks, not expecting this. He turns to see me standing in front of him in my knee highs and boots, breeches, neatly pressed and emblazoned uniform jacket, topped off with my cap. For the final visual kick, I wear a long black leather coat over the uniform and hold a baton in my hand.
„I want to know where you’re going!“ He can’t make a sound. He’s completely overwhelmed and grows scared. „You little pissant have no business here! You want to snoop around?“ He stammers something I don’t understand, but I don’t care. „Turn around and walk to the house!“
He turns around slowly, still visibly irritated, but I can already see excitement in his eyes. He has realized that we are already in the game. „Well, will it be soon, you little bitch?“ I slap his thigh to emphasize my demand. He gives a short yelp and now runs at a brisk pace towards the Lux.
„Left!“ He charges into the steel room. I close the door behind me, lock it as well, and put the key in my pocket.
The dangerous appeal of the uniform
He is trapped. Since the windows on the first floor have an additional burglar alarm and my client is quite small and lanky, the situation isn’t so artificial anymore, because he certainly couldn’t overpower me to get the key. So much the better.
„Who are you, little cunt?“ He dutifully recites his name and babbles something about being lost. „You expect me to believe that, you little piece of shit? You want to snoop around and probably steal something. I’ll show you how we deal with trash like you around here. Get on your fucking knees before me, you useless piece of shit!“
He immediately follows my command and I can tell by the speed of his reactions that he is fully into the game. He starts to whimper something and I run my hand over his mouth, „Yeah, now you’re scared, aren’t you? Now that I have you in my hand, you little bitch. I don’t know why I bother to call you so many names. You’re not the first one to hang around the front yard. That’s why you’re 17 to me.“
I lean forward a bit now, becoming much more subtle, and smile, „Now, 17, give me a proper kiss on the boots.“ He starts to whine again and I lunge out and smack him in the ass with my cane. Immediately his head goes down and he starts not only kissing my boots, but also licking them very submissively by himself. He seems to like the boots. Well, it’s part of the uniform, which is his fetish – logical that he likes to lick it as well.
After he has done a good job – from my point of view – with both shoes, I sit down comfortably on one of the green chairs. I stay in the role I like best: being subtly dominant.
I smile again and say determinedly, „And now it’s time to see number 17 naked in front of me“. Again he whimpers and tries to avert the disaster of being naked. This time I only have to pretend to stand up for a moment and he immediately parries. I tell him to put his clothes down neatly and fold them first. I see how often he looks at my uniform with enthusiasm, sometimes out of the corner of his eye and sometimes directly.
I now take the nasty surgical light and shine it on him: „You have a hard-on, 17! I’m going crazy – does that mean you’re a gay pig?“ He tries to talk his way out of the situation and covered his dick with his hands. I get louder again, „Put your hands behind your back and stand up straight, 17. You little faggot – I’ll show you“.
I walk up to him again, put him over my knee and spank him hard until he’s really red and really nice and warm. All the time he has to repeat that he is ashamed of being a gay pig. This is followed by games where he has to stick something up his ass in front of me and tell me that he is a faggot who needs it up his ass. I spit, kick and insult him with all the rules of the art. I’m in my element!
Uniform and humiliation
I pull him by his ears over to the cage of the other small private room. „Here you stay, 17, and worry about your gay little dick for a change.“ I leave the room and sit comfortably in the kitchen, drinking coffee and checking my email.
It was agreed that my client would be detained and left alone with his thoughts. Of course, I’ve set up a small camera so that I can always see what’s going on, because sometimes the client panics – especially when he’s being fully restrained or thwarted. Then of course I have to intervene.
But this one manages very well. After 20 minutes I come down again, stand quickly on the cage, smile again at my victim from above and take out my cock: „So, now we’re going to get you going, you little gay piece of shit!“
A strong jet of morning urine shoots out of my cock onto my victim. I drank extra to fill him up. He suffers from this humiliation and I know he likes it. I leave him in the cage with my piss and depart again. This time I turn off the light because my camera has a microphone and I can hear him. He is now alone in this cold cage, surrounded by my, if I may say so, foul smelling morning urine and can fully indulge in his suffering with the help of this smell.
I repeat this game once or twice more, adding snot, farting and lots of verbal action. Once the shaken man has to come out and do push-ups in front of me. To make the exercise more difficult for him, I place my foot on his shoulders and slowly shift my weight onto the gasping man. Delightful.
For the finale, he has to return to the steel room and is tied tightly over the trestle. He really can’t move at all now and his ass is stretched out in front of me. „So, 17 – I’m going to show you what it means to be a faggot!“
I stand in front of him with a smile, unbutton my pants, take out my semi-stiff thick cock and stroke it with pleasure. While my victim tries to get out of his situation by whining again (or by whining to reinforce the situation of the game), I tell him triumphantly and subtly dominant that I will now put my cock in his little bottom.
I take extra time to describe the subsequent action, because the fear of the abuse is much greater than the subsequent event itself.
And here we go – in with the cock! Most of the time the victims become quiet the moment I push in and the eyes always go so wonderfully wide. Sometime, after a nice long spanking, I spill my juice directly into his tortured face. I carefully take off the sperm from my cock with my fingers, spread it all over his face and top off this humiliation with a drop of spit, which I have audibly sucked from his nose into his mouth. When he stops howling, we both know that the game is over.
Like many of my clients, he has not come at all. His orgasm is more in his head than in his body. He gets dressed and I stay in the chair and start talking to him. I try to make sure that my client really got his money’s worth out of the session. Unfortunately, he is a little tight-lipped, but the only real confirmation comes: „I also brought the deposit for the next session. I would like to come back in April, if that’s possible…“.
If your client comes back, then you have done well, all other compliments are pleasantries.