The Norwegian Humiliatrix: Part 2

Jakob pushed open the heavy door to the dimly lit bar, heart hammering so hard he felt it in his throat. The BDSM munch was already in full swing. People filled the space in small clusters, dressed in ordinary clothes yet carrying an unmistakable energy.

He kept his head down, shoulders hunched, and made a straight line for the bar. Ordering a Norwegian solo soft drink, he wrapped both hands around the cold glass and took a shaky sip, trying to steady his breathing.

His eyes darted around the room. A tall woman in tight leather pants and a cropped jacket laughed loudly with two men kneeling at her feet.

Another domme in glossy black latex trousers sat with her legs spread wide, one booted foot resting on the thigh of a man who looked up at her with pure adoration. Jakob’s cock twitched instantly in his jeans.

The sight of real women, their subs at their sides, made everything he had only watched on screen feel suddenly, terrifyingly close.

He shifted on the bar stool, face burning hot. Every time the door opened he flinched, convinced someone from his old life or his new office would walk in and recognize him. The thought of being spotted here sent a fresh wave of heat up his neck.

He kept his gaze low, staring into his drink while his small cock throbbed painfully against the zipper.

Across the room a statuesque blonde in heavy boots and a leather jacket scanned the crowd. Sigrid’s eyes moved slowly over faces until they landed on the slim, nervous man at the bar. She noted the way he clutched his glass, the pink flush across his cheeks, the way he kept glancing at the obvious dommes and their kneeling subs.

A slow smile curved her glossy lips. She adjusted the strap of her handbag, feeling the weight of the steel chastity cage inside, and began to move toward him with deliberate steps.

Sigrid moved through the crowded room like she owned every inch of it. Her boots struck the floor with heavy, confident thuds that made heads turn. She stopped right in front of Jakob, towering over him even though he sat on the bar stool. Without a word she held out her hand, palm open, black nails gleaming.

"Hand," she ordered, voice low and sharp.

Jakob’s heart slammed against his ribs. His face burned crimson as his mind raced—Oh fuck, she’s talking to me, she’s actually talking to me, what do I do, don’t fuck this up, she’s so tall, she’s so hot, I’m going to pass out—but his trembling fingers somehow found hers. Her grip was strong, almost painful, and she gave one firm shake before letting go.

"Sigrid," she stated. "And you are?"

"J-Jakob," he managed, voice cracking. His eyes darted everywhere except her face. She’s looking right at me, she can see how pathetic I am, she’s going to laugh and walk away any second.

She dragged the neighboring stool closer and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. The black latex stretched tight over her thick, juicy ass, the glossy material creaking softly. "Experience?" she asked bluntly, tilting her head.

His throat worked. "N-none. Zero. I’ve never… done anything. I just watch videos." God, I sound like such a loser. She’s going to think I’m a joke.

A slow, amused smirk spread across her glossy lips. "Pathetic. I like that." She snapped two fingers at the bartender. "Whiskey. Neat. He’s paying." Her eyes flicked back to Jakob. "Aren’t you?"

"Y-yes," he whispered, cheeks blazing. His small cock throbbed painfully against his jeans as he stared at the way her rubber top clung to her heavy double-D breasts, the twin piercings pressing visibly through the glossy material.

Her long blonde hair spilled over one shoulder, framing perfect skin and full lips that looked wet enough to wrap around anything. The curve of her ass on the stool made his mouth go dry. She’s unreal. Those tits, that ass, those lips… I can’t stop staring. She’s going to notice and think I’m a creep.

Sigrid leaned in close enough that he could smell leather and latex. "Good boy. Keep answering when I speak to you. And keep your eyes on me when I’m talking." She placed her handbag on the bar with a soft thud, the steel cage inside shifting. "Now tell me exactly what you’ve been jerking off to, Jakob. Every filthy detail."

Jakob swallowed hard, pulse hammering in his ears. She wants me to say it out loud, right here, with people around. I’m going to die of embarrassment. But my cock is so hard it hurts. I can’t believe this is happening. His voice came out small and shaky. "I… I watch videos of women pegging men. Humiliating them. Making them beg. Calling them worthless while they fuck their asses." Please don’t laugh. Please don’t leave.

Sigrid’s smirk widened. She took the whiskey the bartender slid over and raised it to her lips without breaking eye contact. "Keep going," she said, voice dripping with authority. "I want to hear every pathetic little fantasy you’ve been stroking that tiny cock to."

Sigrid watched Jakob like a lion savoring the moment before the strike. Her eyes never left his face while he stumbled through his answer, every word dragging more color into his cheeks. The bar noise faded into the background for him; all he could hear was his own pulse hammering and the low, commanding tone of her voice pushing him deeper.

She actually wants me to say it here, out loud, where anyone could overhear. My cock is already leaking in my underwear and she hasn’t even touched me yet. If she laughs I’ll die right here on this stool.

He swallowed, throat dry. “I… I fantasize about being locked up. In chastity. For weeks. Sometimes months. The key around her wrist while she decides when I get to feel anything.” His voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “I picture her making me watch her fuck other men while I’m caged and dripping. Or her using a strap-on on me until I’m begging and can’t even get hard.”

Sigrid’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. She shifted on the stool, latex creaking, and crossed her legs the other way so her thick ass pressed even more noticeably against the glossy material. “Keep going,” she ordered, voice low and edged with heat. “I want every filthy detail.”

Jakob’s hands trembled on the bar. She’s getting off on this. Her nipples are hard through that rubber top. She’s actually turned on by how pathetic I sound. “I think about her making me clean her up after she’s been with someone else. Licking her clean while she calls me her worthless little cuck.

Or her putting me in a cage and only letting me out to edge for hours without coming. Sometimes… sometimes I imagine her inviting friends over so they can all watch me get fucked and humiliated.”

Every confession made his small cock twitch harder against the denim. Sweat beaded at his hairline. He kept glancing down at the bar, at her boots, anywhere but her eyes until her sharp command snapped his gaze back up.

“Look at me when you speak, Jakob.”

He obeyed instantly, voice cracking. “I want to be denied. Teased until I’m crying. I want her to decide everything—when I eat, when I sleep, when I’m allowed to touch myself. I want to be nothing but her toy.”

Sigrid’s breathing had deepened. Her pupils were wide, and a faint flush colored her perfect skin above the neckline of the rubber top.

She loved every trembling syllable that left his mouth. The more he spilled, the wetter she grew inside the tight latex pants. She could feel the heat building between her thighs, the slickness gathering as she pictured exactly how she would break this nervous little man.

She let the silence stretch just long enough for his anxiety to spike again. Then she reached into her handbag without breaking eye contact.

Her fingers closed around cool metal. With deliberate slowness she drew out the flat steel chastity cage, the polished surface catching the low bar lights. She set it down on the bar right between them, the small lock clinking softly against the wood. Several people nearby glanced over—subs, dommes, strangers—watching the shiny device now openly displayed.

Jakob’s stomach dropped. Oh fuck, everyone can see it. They know what it is. They know it’s for me. His face burned so hot he thought he might actually faint. His cock gave another desperate throb inside his jeans.

Sigrid leaned in close, her voice a velvet blade. “There it is, Jakob. The thing you’ve been stroking that tiny cock to in secret. Flat. Secure. Permanent until I decide otherwise.” She tapped one black nail against the steel. “So tell me the truth right now. Do you want these filthy little fantasies to become real? Do you want me to lock this onto you tonight, take the key, and start turning you into the desperate, denied, humiliated toy you’ve been dreaming about?”

She watched every micro-expression cross his face—panic, arousal, shame, hunger. Her own arousal spiked hotter at the sight of him unraveling in public.

“Or,” she continued, voice dripping with mockery, “would you rather go home alone, open another video, and jerk that useless little dick while you imagine what could have happened? Sit there in your apartment, cumming into your own hand like the pathetic virgin you are, while this cage stays right here with me?”

Jakob’s breathing came in short, shallow bursts. His hands shook on his lap. The weight of every eye that had noticed the cage pressed down on him. Sigrid’s gaze pinned him in place, demanding an answer, relishing every second of his visible struggle.

He nodded once, then again, voice barely audible. “I… I want it to be real. I want you to lock me up. I want to live it.”

Sigrid’s smile turned wicked. She picked up the cage again, letting it dangle from one finger so the lock swung gently in front of his face. “Good boy,” she purred.

Sigrid rose from her stool with the cage still dangling from one finger. Without another word she turned and walked toward the back hallway, the click of her boots cutting through the low music. Jakob followed on shaky legs, face burning, the flat steel device swinging in her grip like a promise and a threat.

The single-occupancy bathroom smelled of disinfectant and latex. She locked the door behind them and pointed at the toilet. “Sit.”

Jakob lowered himself onto the cold seat, knees apart, hands trembling in his lap. Sigrid stood over him, tall and imposing in her glossy black latex, and laughed—loud, genuine, cruel.

“Drop the pants, little boy. Let Mistress see what you’ve been hiding.”

His fingers fumbled with his belt. The denim slid down his thighs and his underwear followed, exposing the small, soft cock that had been leaking all evening. It twitched once under her gaze and then shrank further from the cold air and sheer humiliation.

Sigrid threw her head back and laughed again, the sound echoing off the tiles. “Oh my god, that’s it? That’s the pathetic little thing you’ve been stroking to my videos? It’s barely a clit. Look at it—tiny, useless, already trying to hide.” She leaned closer, double-D breasts straining the rubber top, pierced nipples clearly outlined. “You’ve been staring at these tits all night like a starving dog. Now you’re going to jerk that sad excuse for a cock while you look at them. Go on. Stroke.”

Jakob wrapped two fingers and a thumb around his shaft and began to pump, eyes locked on the glossy black rubber stretched over her chest. Every humiliating word made his cock throb harder despite its size.

Sigrid watched him for a few seconds, then her hand flashed out and cracked across his cheek—sharp, stinging. Spit followed, landing wet across his nose and lips. “Faster, worm. Cum for your Mistress like the desperate little cuck you are.”

The slap and the spit pushed him over the edge. His balls tightened and he spurted thick ropes of cum across his own fingers, gasping, hips jerking. Sigrid watched the weak orgasm with open amusement, then laughed again as the last dribble slid down his knuckles.

“Pathetic. Couldn’t even last thirty seconds.”

Sigrid grabbed his softening cock without mercy, her fingers wrapping around the small shaft and pulling it forward. With practiced speed she slid the cold steel ring around the base of his cock and balls first, forcing the tight metal circle snug against his body until everything was captured.

Then she lined up the flat cage plate and pushed it over his limp shaft, pressing the whole package flat against his pelvis. The lock clicked shut with a sharp snap that echoed in the quiet bathroom.

She gave the locked device a firm, deliberate tug, testing the fit, and the cage stayed perfectly flush, everything crushed tight and immobile beneath the smooth steel plate.

She stood, dropped the key into her cleavage, and let it nestle between her heavy breasts. “Up. We’re leaving.”

Jakob pulled his pants up with shaking hands and followed her back into the main room. Sigrid stopped in the middle of the crowd, turned to face everyone, and lifted the key on its thin chain so it glinted under the lights.

“Guess what I just used these keys for,” she announced loudly, voice carrying over the chatter. Laughter and cheers erupted from dommes and subs alike. Several people pointed at Jakob stumbling behind her, face scarlet, the outline of the flat cage now faintly visible through his jeans.

Sigrid simply smiled, turned, and walked out, the key bouncing between her tits with every step while Jakob followed, burning with fresh humiliation.

Sigrid glanced back at him with a wicked smirk as they reached the exit. “Let’s go to the after club and play,” she said, voice low and commanding. She slipped the leather strap of her handbag off her shoulder and pressed it into his hands.

“Carry it in front with both hands.” Jakob obeyed without a word, clutching the bag over his crotch as she pushed through the door and strolled out onto the dark Oslo street. He stumbled after her, the flat steel cage biting into his swelling cock with every step, eyes glued to the way her thick juicy ass flexed inside the tight black latex.

His face burned hotter than ever while his mind raced with nervous anticipation, wondering exactly what she had planned for him next.