Rainy days in Amsterdam - part I

Rainy Days in Amsterdam by Allexcited69

THE STORY IS PURELY A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL LIFE OR REAL PEOPLE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. THE STORY DEALS WITH FEMDOM FANTASIES, CHASTITY AND LOVE AND IS MEANT FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY.

It was rainy November here in Amsterdam.

I had heard of all the wild things of this place and I was vying for a taste of it. I checked the Internet for the fetish/BDSM scene and I came upon a Mistress that lived on a houseboat . Her specialities were Fetish, Femdom, Spanking , Humiliation and Anal play. It sounded quite scary. I had often fantasized about visiting such a ProDom with my wife present but I never had the balls to go through with it.

I had gone to one of the famous coffee shops to obtain something to smoke and get me high. The menu had marijuana from 8 different countries and Hashich from as many. After ordering a large Heineken, I asked the good-looking waitress to roll me a joint as I was quite clumsy in this regard. She told me that lighting up pot or hashich was legal in Amsterdam but that smoking tobacco inside was illegal. I found it re-assuring that some things were still illegal in Amsterdam.

I had heard of slave auctions, fetish balls, and all kinds of sexual variations in this tolerant metropolis of kink. The smoking temporarily put me into a mood of greater playfulness and I called the number of the Pro-Domme to set up a session or two. She suggested that we book a Dungeon Room in a nearby Amsterdam hotel where the session could be held in greater confort and security.

I quickly agreed and just hoped that my wife would go along with my plan. I told her about my wife s reluctance. They said it was typical. I had seen in some famous FemDom magazines, interviews of Mistresses, techniques and tools and procedures, proper to the Dutch, had convinced me more than once that the Dutch were a convivial, although frugal in kind, generous in spirit like the great merchants that once colonized all of the Earth as far away as Indonesia.

The beautification of the Dutch people had occurred when they sailed, they conquered and they fornicated overseas ...and fornicate they did having at least 8 children and being today a thoroughly pussy-wipped monarchistic republic.

It seemed like << unimagined torments by of cruelest the and handcuffs whips, masks devices, chastity with Domination Female submission frontiers more once to initiatives took we when surprised quite in were Yet, dildos.. is heels its turns, twists, night Amsterdam penetrating envision us impossible.

The Dutch plan went something as follows: 1. Inform 2. Charge 3. Explain 4. Demonstrate/Convince/persuade 5. Subjugate. Through intense pain, Cocl and Ball torture (CBT ) and other mental anguish. ..boosted by the local drugs available but always staying clear of cocaine which we feel is a bad drug' just too nasty and self-destructive. However the motto here is push the envelope a step further, go into the UnForeseen , Be Brave and Get thoroughly pussy-whipped. At the moment, I was smoking something called Smiling Buddha from local grown marijuana. The waitress was licking the joint that she had just rolled for me and my wife stood by looking angrily at the scene.

My thinking for tonight is if you re going to be enslaved any time soon, than you may as well be salivating, kneeling and bootlicking a sexy and good-looking Goddess that she personified. Always holier. always wiser....so I hoped !

At one dinner with my wife, finally, the topic of Female Domination came up again as my current lover, a Moroccan girl with luscious and generous breasts, with the face of an Angel and red blood hair with a Mediterranean, character for torture.

It usually involved a lot of screaming, emotional explosions, and playing the martyr type of woman. She clearly loved me too much, she suffered and screamed because of me. I was a hands-on kind of guy , often building, or convincing some judge in family court of the injustices of this world.

I guess I needed an Attitude adjustment having tried everything at least once and always was willing to try something that would leave me in awe, impressed, seduced but in the end, thoroughly bamboozled and changed for the better. Despite the tough talk of most Dominatrixes, I was convinced that they all had a soft spot for somebody that would leave himself/herself so open to their eventual abuse, so vulnerable and at the same time naíve, childlike and defenceless.

I also came to the realization that my relationship with Moona was at a crossroads. I was willing to let go totally, be in her full control, get whipped, chained and humiliated if she so desired. All I could prey and hope for is that, at the end of the day, she would finally shed her anger, her remorse, and all the feelings of victim hood that she had carried around all those years, like a traveller burdened by some heavy luggage.

I wanted Moona to age gracefully like Katherine Hepburn or Grace Kelly and finally be happy and at peace. My experiment was to challenge Moona to at last take control of her life, to feel totally unrestrained and to discover her true calling, whatever it was. Had she decided to be a lion-tamer and join the circus, or a Mother Theresa helping the sick somewhere in the heights of Guatemala or Africa, I could deal with it and be her obedient servant, hopefully like a dignified butler that is there to support, shine her boots and pay daily homage to her.

She would therefore be the one wearing the pants, ordering the meals in restaurants handle all the money issues and penetrate or torment me at her leisure. She would be a totally free woman, fornicating at all hours with other men while I was completely chastised and humbled. So was it to be my fate or so I imagined. Things would be quite different.

I would be left to clean out the stables or act as her corseted housemaid and keep the floors shiny. Only she could wear the pants, tease me relentlessly or just ignore me totally for days on end. She could discipline me, whip me and occasionally milk me or have me masturbate in my naked state and mere inches from her shiny boots.

Also, we all agreed that I needed a serious attitude-adjustment. I had to learn to kneel, to give reverence and always act like an object of Desire for my Mistress...She had a hippy side to her and I could imagine her in the 1960s mood when innocence, child-like curiosity about topics like Co-ops, drugs, sex and abortion rights defined the day!

At that time, it was the glorious beginning then of Female Domination, of shedding of old religious values .….an era of massive brainwashing and mass consumerism, something miraculous occured to the economy when all that human imagination was let run free.. true liberation after years of war and dictatorship bringing with it freedom of speech, of expression, of self:

Who am I and why am I looking at Total Power Exchange. I am a somewhat bored 53 year-old Canadian, who runs regularly to Morrocco, to Europe and of course Amsterdam with its canals, its world-class museums as well as a passion for learning, for exploring, of great history and culture, that I miss here in parts of Canada and the US. On the other hand, I feel very American in my pragmatic no-nonsense approach with an egalitarian mindframe.

I long and dream sometimes of the days of Jacques Kirouac, who believed in freedom but who had the sole of a vagabond...a breath of fresh air, fresh ideas and before the dawn of Modernism, Political Correctness and the ever faster internet and email driven world.

Politcial Correctness had been redefined in Quebec to the point that the middle-aged white man now was becoming the minority and was threatened by the new and young from Asia , or from latin America or Europe and also pushed aside and marginalized by the feminist movement in Corporate America,

Here in Canada, most white males had become meek and obedient but very productive, yet a minority had become rebellious, querulous and delinquent.

Most women of course preferred the wild ones as they usually were better lovers. The wild ones fucked better but became quickly un-manageable. The cross-fornication of all of world species eventually would solve racial discrimination in a decade. Eventually, there would be integrated communities with zero ghettoes, no more fences, just a Goodness toward the next person and hopefully no more useless wars.

What was left to do for a middle-aged babyboomer. Have some fun and look to experiment , to grow, to regress, and even to become dumb, to do thngs differently if one so desired.

Never have so many men changed their gender or have sex changes, used hormones even growing two BB breasts and wanting to experience part of their existence as a different person, as a woman, a maid or a slave…or ideally all three combined. So I once suggested exploratory sessions to my Psychiatrist and later to my wife/Mistress who wasn’t really a Mistress but a stressed-out spouse, impatient and choleric by temperament, good-natured , sometimes ambitious, often laid back like most Mediterranean’s and she showed some potential if she listened more to her inner voice and would trust her gut instinct more. Her scientific and Cartesian approach, due to her scientific background made it difficult for her to admit being wrong.

She had become sick of my ramblings-on and vice-versa. Our relationship was at the point of rupture ..just the part before we head for the divorce courts...so I said ..why not try something new.. I always said that I’ll try everything at least once… but it was that cocky side....the Guy who had become a petit Bourgeois. ..Narrow in his everyday interests and narrow in spirit.

My attitude was no longer that of a winner! It was that of a gambler...who rolled the dice and maybe could lose all he had: his fame, his fortune and all his liberty.

My wife said and as instructed, the next day I booked the Dungeon, the Cage, the full BDSM suite on one of Amsterdam Canals along with not one but two dominatrixes. My wife was of the very jealous kind and she would raise her pricks of steel when rightly irritated. Maybe business for the Doms had been slow….so I thought. I had played so many mind games in my life...that now , I only wished to enjoy the show, to fornicate, and have a good time...like the rest of us.

There is nothing wrong with being entrepreneurial... as I was to learn as these two Dominatrixes, together, were invincible in their procedures to seduce and ultimately completely take me over and manipulate….and wring me around their little fingers...litterally speaking.

Sometimes I believed that my wife’s passion and intensity required somebody sacrifice himself for the Community of this Marriage, especially when her anger and impatience was unleashed.

She could become more calculating and yet more dangerous and had a short fuse, being easily aggravated. Sending her to a Mental Institution would be cruel and unusual punishment but the thought had occurred to me more than once. I just admired and loved her as all beautiful women and I would probably lick most women’s boots if they asked me to.

These Two Dominatrixes were extremely beautiful and currently already brainwashing and pussy-whipping all the obedient Admirers, blinded by their lecherous intents, with their sermons, their Speeches...on their interwet site. At the last minute, the venue was changed from houseboat to a nearby hotel, more convenient for all but less unusual.

The Session.
As I came into the hotel room , the Dominatrix said in a harsh voice:
‘’DEAR SLAVE…DOWN ON THE FLOOR NOW ‘’ as she pointed her gloved finger at the floor. She was amazingly self-confident and exuded a raw and sheer female Power that left me speechless.
They turned around and talked to my wife , ignoring my presence while they giggled and whispered.

Then, they suddenly turned around and saw what I was doing. I was clearly excited and masturbating discreetly …. I knew it was wrong but I meant to provoke their anger, their quest for discipline, their natural habit for dominating me totally. I hoped that their harsh attitude would rub off on my wife and that she would eventually learn what was a Dominant Female: stern, harsh and sometimes merciless but always self-confident, sexy and in full control.

All three women smiled and seemed satisfied for a nano-second. I could read it in their eyes. ‘’Clearly, he is enjoying it...it excites him..look at him he is salivating’’....my angry wife said. ‘’ He masturbates too much and when I demand attention....then he is tired....or too exhausted…or some other lame excuse. ‘’ The Blond said I think I’ll practice my French : ‘’ TU N ES QU `UN MISERABLE ! Comment oses tu . tu sera esclave maintenant et pour toujours . On te montrera c’est quoi etre un esclave de ses desirs.’’ she said. She was too angry to impress me. Angry people are weak. Only Weakness projects into Anger doesn’t it?..or so I believed.

The tall Dom said to my wife, now my Mistress, ‘’ He clearly lacks discipline….the self-control..’’ as she giggled. ‘’This must be punished harshly with the whip’’.

‘’ He must know that this is totally unworthy and unacceptable for a Slave.He must be chastised at once’’

They all left for about 5 minutes in the room next door . When they re-emerged , the three of them had a devilish smile on their face. The tall one handed me a Seven up bottle and two pills, a white one and a blue one. ‘’Now drink up at once. Now get completely undressed- Slave.’’
Then she slapped me and said ‘’Say Yes Mistress’’. ‘’Yes Mistress’’ ..I quickly said.

A slave should always be at floor level when her Mistress is present. Also don`t look us into the eyes but fix your gaze at our boots. ‘’Would you like to lick your Mistresses boots. If so, beg her now to let you lick them..’’.

I started to feel drowsy all of a sudden and I heard her voice resonating in my head like she was in my head...yet she wasn’t. Her voice had a hypnotic effect on me. ‘’ You are now very tired. You now feel totally immobile and helpless. You feel that you need to be told what to do. ..what to think. You are now going deeply into ever deeper levels of simplicity. You want to hear simple words, simple orders. ‘’

Sometimes, you feel more like an animal in heat eaten up by the heat of desire for your wife’s pussy…at other times, you`ll feel like an insect.. ..so insignificant and liable to be quashed without warning. You feel deeply ashamed by your lust and embarrassed by it. The more you try to deny your lust , the more it takes over all your thoughts. You feel more and more obsessed by her. You are afraid that she will leave you. You need her to tell you what to do. She is no longer your wife but you well now address her as Mistress’’.

‘’From now on, you will not be able to say No to her. All her wishes, her whims and her desires are your orders and you will do the utmost to execute them without question. Your insecurity is caused by your inadequate little penis…so small...yet so excited. You long to lick her boots, her pussy, her boots and yet feel so inadequate and ashamed. You now understand that your Mistress needs real men, strong and manly, not a weak and precarious insect or slave . ‘’

‘’You long to be more like your Mistress, so feminine, so graceful, walking in high heels and sheer silk stockings down the street behind your Mistress. Everybody is looking at you. You feel ashamed. Yet it excites you to please your Mistress. You feel reassured by her firm control. You need and long to obey her, to worship her with total abandon. You feel so ashamed and helpless. You feel ashamed yet excited. You very much long to please her and will beg her to let her lick her boots, to worship her, to do anything she asks of you. You will dream up new ways to show your subservience. You will worship all women as your Mistress directs. ‘’
She paused for a while then continued:
‘’You will eventually need to suck cock yet feel very ashamed by it. You are not only becoming a slave but also a slut with penis envy. You will not talk unless prodded to. You feel try to act more lady-like. You need to be taken like a lady, possessed by a large dick in your anus. It haunts you as much as your longing for Mistresses boots, pussy and ass. You are here to serve. You feel so inadequate. You feel ashamed. You need to be punished…’’ She then snapped her fingers.

I quickly said. ‘’Please Mistress …let me lick those boots that reflect your true beauty.’’

‘’Oh what a poet ‘’...the tall Dom said as she giggled. She took a collar and fixed it to my neck and then handed the lead attached to it to my new Mistress/Wife. The other Dom then said ‘’...Sure it so common the remnants of a smart-ass attitude. It ‘s called topping from the bottom....we have remedies for this type of impudence .. both physical and mental.’’ ‘’>>Lots of talk but no action..’’ My wife said…’’ But look he’s really erect now. Your hypnosis seems to work ‘’

The tall Nordic beauty of blond hair and strong figure, was dressed in a Gaultier- inspired Corset/ Chemisette with a tight Leather pair of riding-pants and Black Shiny boots and she put two clips on my breasts. They were attached to a chain and a large heavy iron cannonball that rested on the floor and she then said : ‘’This will keep him down at floor-level where he belongs’’.

The other Dom was brown-haired, very pretty but shy and with pony-hair and an evening Dress of Black Latex and a matching Corset that brought out her round and delicate breasts. My Mistress had changed into a Latex Cat suit with military epaulettes and military cap that covered her hair partially. She had an excited glare in her eyes. She seemed truly beautiful. I craved to worship her and felt the heat of my desire take me over. Little else mattered.

By now, I was thoroughly confused as the voices of the 3 women resonated in my head. My Mistress was wearing shiny but soft black knee-high hooker boots with a 5 inch heel that I fantasized licking just thinking about the sheer beauty of the three women in front of me.

The three women were standing Higher than me, therefore automatically putting themselves into a position of Natural physical Superiority and I felt so inadequate . They also outnumbered me and I was naked and fully erect. All were eloquent and had squirms and a certain elegance in their demeanour. In their stare, they would to say < Slave- Beg me to let you lick these boots as you are not quite worthy yet... I may grant you favours but you must beg us for them...but only when asked.
Then there were giggles, and them ordering me to Beg, yet beg some more. I felt overwhelmed and insignificant but at peace.

I again focused again on these soft black knee-high hooker boots with a 5 inch heel that I fantasized licking just thinking about the sheer beauty of the three women in front of me. I felt like I was in some type of loop and there was no way out of it. Remember Mistress said: ‘’ I may grant you favours but you must beg for them’’

She continued << Otherwise..you must ALWAYS be still, fully erect or soft as I desire at the moment , often alone and on your knees toiling away...always on your knees .in front of your Mistress and most of the time gagged with a dildo in your mouth, feeling inadequate, ashamed but so excited by your helplessness, excited by the power I exude, excited by your new status as my slave>>. Again, more devilish squirms. MY ANXIETY WAS GIVING WAY TO ADMIRATION ...Those 3 beauties -What a delight to admire!

I begged them to let me lick their shiny boots but my memory was somehow dulled and I could not really remember where I was and what brought me there. I was floating in some subspace.

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