In this Fetischichte, the Herr takes me to the V.I.P. Lounge of the football stadium and I experience his game in shackles.
The clock next to the TV showed 7:28 p.m. as the car pulled up in front of the house. I had already expected him and watched from the window as the driver parked. On the way outside, I passed the mirror in the hallway. I stopped and looked at the woman who could be seen in it. The sight was unusual. The deep blue tight-fitting dress that reached up to the knees, the slightly shiny skin-colored stockings and the dark blue pumps with the 13 centimeter high heels. Was that me? I felt a little uncomfortable. Just like before an oral exam.
The doorbell rang. In front of the door stood the Herr in a really well-fitting suit. He greeted me and offered me his arm. I gave him a quick kiss and then hurried to get out of the house with him without my curious neighbor still seeing me. She had no idea that I had come to know the Herr. When we arrived at the car, he held me back briefly. “There’s something else,” he said, presenting a black silk scarf. I understood. Motionless, I stopped next to the car while he stepped behind me and tied the scarf over my eyes. Darkness enveloped me. For a moment I almost lost my balance. Then the Herr supported me. I heard a metal click and felt something on my wrist. Frightened, I wanted to turn around, but he held me with gentle pressure. “Pscht, calm,” he said soothingly. Then he led my other hand to the back and it clicked a second time. He had handcuffed me. I carefully tried to pull my arms apart. No doubt, I was tied up. My thoughts started racing. “I want to get in,” I said quickly. The neighbors. We were still in sight. I was so overwhelmed that behind my blindfold I didn’t even notice the Herr chaining my ankles with cold steel after I got into the car. It was only when I pushed my body a little more comfortably into the rear of the car when I noticed that my legs were only able to move to a limited extent.
My head was looking for the direction in which I suspected the Herr. But before I could ask what all this was all about, I felt his breath next to my ear. He made a long hiss and whispered, “Don’t speak. Then we do it without the gag.” My mouth opened a tiny bit, then I felt his finger on my lips. I remained silent. And listened as the Herr buckled me, took his place behind the wheel and started the car. This was followed by a somewhat uncomfortable ride with my hands on my back and I was happy when the car finally stopped after quite a while. The Herr got out and helped me out of the back of the car. When I stood, he took off my blindfold. I was dazzled by neon lights and made the first uncertain steps. The Herr had already pushed me a few meters in front of him when I realized that I was in an underground car park. We left quickly. The short metal chain between my legs stretched with every movement and my short, fast tripled steps echoed loudly on the concrete floor. Almost like two drumsticks beating a crowded rhythm. I still wasn’t used to walking on such high heels. Especially not so fast and so captivated. That’s why I had to concentrate a lot so that I didn’t falter. When we finally reached an elevator door after a short walk, I had small beads of sweat on my forehead. The Herr saw this and wiped them off me while we waited for the elevator that took us upstairs.
I still had no idea where we were. Or what awaited me. But I was sure I would find out soon. And so it was. The elevator door opened. The Herr stepped into the brightly painted hallway. He checked the location. Then he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me across the corridor to a door with the inscription “V.I.P. Suite 1”. He did not knock, but opened the door directly and pushed me into the room. The door slammed shut behind us. I looked around. The suite was painted white. Timeless. But more practical than elegant. To the left of the entrance there was a bar with several stools. The rest of the room was rather spartan. Unusual for a V.I.P. suite, I thought.
“You look really beautiful today,” said the Herr after patterning me from top to bottom. Then he ordered “Stand by the window!” and as I staggered through the room towards the large glass wall, I could feel his looks on my back. Due to the high heels and the short steps, my walk had something seductive and vulnerable at the same time. He obviously liked that. Yes, the Herr was a man, no doubt. My eyes still hadn’t fully gotten used to the light, so I didn’t see where I was until just before I reached the window. Then I realized I was in a box in a football stadium. Far down I could see the grass and the players who had apparently already started kicking the ball. Oh my God, I thought. On the other side of the window were about 50,000 men and I stood tied up in front of a floor-to-ceiling glass wall. My knees became soft with excitement.
At that moment, the Herr pushed a chair towards me from behind. He took my wrists and pushed them up. The lever meant that I had to prevent myself. And he had the opportunity to push the high seat back between my elbows and my back. So it happened that I sat on the chair and my arms hugged the backrest behind my back, so to speak. The next moment, he jerked the chair backwards. My body was pressed to the backrest and my legs floated briefly in the air before I felt ground under the heels again. As soon as my pumps had touched the floor, the chair was already standing on the floor on all fours again. At first I didn’t understand what the action was supposed to do, but when I wanted to put my legs back on the side of the chair due to the tilting maneuver, I noticed it. During the tilting, I had instinctively tried to put my feet on the floor. The chain between my ankles had slipped behind the front legs of the chair. Now that all four chair legs were back on the floor, the chain was under the chair and my feet were right and left sideways next to the chair legs. As a result, I was no longer able to take my legs together in front of the chair. I sat there with my legs wide and couldn’t change it because my own body weight kept the chair on the floor. Despite my vulnerable situation, I must admit that I was impressed by the ease with which the Herr had made me even more defenseless than I had been before.
I expected that the Herr would now take advantage of my situation with relish. But I was wrong. He calmly sat next to me in an armchair with a drink in his hand. So he sat there for a while and watched the game. And this despite the fact that he actually had nothing to do with football. He told me that by the way. He had received the tickets for the lounge as a gift. And that’s when he came up with the idea of bringing me here.
Sometime towards the end of the first half, the inevitable happened. His right hand rested on my left thigh, which was only half covered by the dress that had slipped up. A tingling sensation ran through me. My muscles tensed. Was this an escape reflex without the slightest chance of escape? Or was it burgeoning lust? Whatever it was. I was powerless and had to watch his narrow, strong hands push my dress further up until my clean-shaven shame flashed out from under the fabric. His index finger touched me. It was like a small electric shock. I began to tremble. He just nodded contentedly and calmly continued with his game.
When the referee whistled at half-time, I was already halfway there. His fingers were incredibly skillful. He stroked all the places between my legs, rubbed gently, groped briskly and withdrew when I moved. I don’t think a man had ever touched me in this way before. And I enjoyed it. Yes, I was tied to this chair and that was certainly not the most normal way to enjoy a football match in a V.I.P. lounge. But this helplessness did something to my body that my head couldn’t control. My thoughts were constantly with the 50,000 who were only separated from our lovemaking by a slice. Probably some of them had long since noticed what was going on in this lounge. That didn’t bother me. Not at all. I wanted the Herr to complete his work on me. However, this did not happen for the time being. During the break, he let me sit alone in front of the Window and calmly mixed a drink at the bar.
Only when the second half of the game began did he take a seat in the chair again. My emotional world was now a chaos of lust, frustration and pain. Yes, even pain. My arms hurt and my legs started to pull. All this became a minor matter with a movement. I could hear it, this soft smacking. And I felt it even more when his fingers penetrated me. Demanding and with fast movements, he massaged me from the inside, while his palm of the hand made pressure on the outside. I groaned. He became even more demanding. I moaned more violently. My mind shut down. There was only this pulsation in me and his fingers. I noticed how hot I was getting. Insanely hot. I resisted my shackles. My whole body tensed. Then an orgasm wave flooded me. And another one. And a third. In the distance I heard my heels scratching across the floor, then I collapsed exhausted on the chair.
Lights were moving around me. Silhouettes scurried past the window when I briefly opened my eyes. I was driving. Or rather: I was driven. Somehow I had gotten back into the car. Had the Herr carried me? I had no idea. My arms and legs were still shackled, but the blindfold was missing on the way back. And I was covered with a warm blanket. In that moment in that back seat, I didn’t care about the world out there. I had found my place. Satisfied, I looked ahead. I saw the Face of the Herr in the rearview mirror. Our eyes met briefly. His eyes sparkled. I smiled at him. Then I fell asleep again sheltered…