The plane from Amsterdam to Bangkok had begun its descent; an older lady was walking back to business class from the lavatory, having just changed her clothes inside. A middle-aged man—slender, balding, and slightly taller than the lady—had been waiting for her outside the door; he escorted her back to her seat and made sure her skirt was smooth and uncreased as she sat down, before returning to economy class. The business-class flight attendants were busy preparing for the landing and hadn’t noticed the outfit change; after all, it is not particularly unusual for people to change clothes during a flight.
One passenger had been fascinated by the woman—whom he found exceptionally attractive—throughout the flight; he estimated her age to be in her early fifties, perhaps fifty-five at most.He had noticed her transformation; his ex-wife no longer wore short skirts and sexy pumps, yet this lady—who was actually older than his forty-five-year-old ex—could still pull it off.
During the flight, he had heard them speaking German and knew that the German man sitting next to her had booked three rooms at the Princess Hotel. The three of them were traveling together, yet she clearly had no deep connection with that man—or with the person who had visited her and presumably been seated in economy class. She had treated the latter man like a servant and spoken to him as such—in Dutch. He was keen to make contact with her, and fortunately, he hadn’t booked a hotel yet, so the timing worked out well.
At the gate, Michaela Anuska was picked up by an electric cart that whisked her off to immigration. The immigration process went smoothly; her Belgian passport was accepted just as it had been in Amsterdam, and she headed straight for the exit, where a limousine chauffeur was already waiting to drive her directly to her hotel. The German man and Michaela’s servant had to walk to immigration; from there, they needed a van to transport her luggage, their own bags, and some filming equipment.
Michaela had already checked in an hour earlier and was resting on her bed by the time Günther and the servant checked in. The servant had his own luggage and that of his Mistress delivered to his room; he had one of the cheapest rooms, while his Mistress had one of the most expensive suites.
Günther, the film’s producer, hadn’t splurged on himself and had booked a more modest room; the money still had to be earned, and for the moment, he was facing only expenses.
Martin, the interested passenger, had managed to secure a room only with some difficulty. He had faced a long wait for a taxi, so he arrived later than the other two; he would have to wait in the lobby until he spotted one of the three, hoping to find out her room number. Günther and Herman knew she did not want to be disturbed before six o’clock, so they retired to their rooms.
At five o’clock sharp, Herman received a call from his Mistress; he had to come immediately, but first had to check at the reception desk to see if there were any messages for her. Martin was in luck; he had been sitting in the lounge overlooking the reception area for less than an hour when he saw the servant walk toward the front desk. He quickly got up and walked over, just in time to see the receptionist retrieve something from a pigeonhole marked 712—presumably her room number, he followed the man into the elvator ans saw him enter room 712. He returned to his own room on the first floor.
Back in his room, he immediately picked up the phone and called room 712. Michaela answered the call expecting Günther but she found herself speaking to a man who apologized in Dutch for the intrusion and said he would like to speak with her. She covered the telephone and said in a commanding tone to herman her servant, “Run my bath and take the key card lying on the table.”
Michaela returned to her phone call. “To whom am I speaking?”
“Martin van Galen, madam; I’m staying in room 321 and was on the same flight as you.” Michaela furrowed her brows as her mind raced.
“What do you want from me, Mr. van Galen?” Martin detected a hint of irritation in her voice and realized he needed to be very tactful.
“Madam, I was deeply impressed by you on the flight; I find you very attractive and would like to invite you to dinner.”
Michaela was taken aback; this wasn’t really what she wanted on this trip. She preferred to keep a low profile and certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. She viewed this as a potential problem and wanted to nip it in the bud if necessary; she needed to know who he was and what he actually wanted.
“Come to my room at eight o’clock tonight to introduce yourself.”
“Thank you, ma’am; I’ll be there,” Martin stammered. Things were going remarkably well—though, of course, he had no idea that she initially saw him as a threat. After her bath, she dressed in a loose-fitting silk skirt and silk blouse; she wore open-backed pumps—all in green—and her red-painted toenails were visible. Her breasts stood proudly firm, requiring no bra, and her hardened nipples were clearly outlined beneath the fabric of her blouse; in fact, she was wearing no lingerie at all.
Herman had assisted her with her bath and dressing, and was now getting her a drink. Michaela called Günther and told him he needed to come over immediately; since his room was one floor down, he was with her within five minutes. She briefed him on the situation with Martin and explained her decision.
Günther saw no danger; neither of them had been followed—not in Amsterdam, nor in Bangkok. His people had verified this; otherwise, he would have been informed.
No one really knew Günther; he wasn’t involved in the trade of the material they produced. He simply handed over the footage discreetly for an agreed-upon fee. He knew more money could be made, but the risks were too high for him, and he lacked the proper distribution channels. The same applied to the actresses: apart from him, no one knew who they were. He and his team even took care to ensure no fingerprints or DNA was left on the film set.
Michaela was somewhat reassured, though she knew Günther looked out for himself first and foremost. She was protected only insofar as that protection served his interests; if things went wrong, she would be on her own. She decided to go ahead with her appointment that evening anyway—partly because she actually enjoyed being desired.
Over dinner, served in her room, Günther and Michaela discussed the shoot and what would be expected of her. She would have to speak lines, but only so her lips would move; her actual voice wouldn’t be used, as the audio would be dubbed in various languages. Günther had hired two European Mistresses and three Asian ones. What he told her was this: A total of two films—each just over 60 minutes long—will be produced for each Mistress, featuring guest appearances in one another’s films; additionally, a “dungeon film” showcasing cruel and sadistic acts will be made for each Mistress, bringing the total number of main sequences filmed to fifteen (three per Mistress). You will all be present at the location simultaneously for seven days and nights of filming, with plenty of interaction among the slaves across the various shoots. No one is permitted to leave the location early; we will all depart at the same time, and I will remove the material, ensuring any remnants are destroyed before anyone leaves. There will be some outdoor filming, but this will be scheduled to eliminate any risks; all intense SM scenes will be filmed indoors, while only the “soft” SM scenes will take place outdoors—by the pool and in the woods. You will receive the script at the location—not before—and you must hand it back in after studying it. The workdays will last about 14 hours; your slave isn’t allowed to be present during the actual filming—he is there solely to attend to your needs, and everything required is already on-site.
“You’ll be picked up and taken to the location the day after tomorrow, right after breakfast. You’ll see me again there; I’m leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast.”
After explaining all this, Günther stood up and kissed Michaela goodbye; through the fabric of her skirt, he could feel her hard erection—his explanation had turned her on. Her slave was in for a treat that evening, he suspected; he had made a few films with her before. After Günther left, Michaela ordered her slave to kneel before her and massage her legs.
“Herman, I’m expecting a visitor soon whom I don’t entirely trust. I want you to stay alert, and if you get the chance, search his pockets,” she told him.
“Yes, Mistress, I will,” her slave replied while massaging her legs from his kneeling position; he was allowed to stop after half an hour. He then had to lay out a riding crop and plastic cable ties on the table for her. At eight o’clock sharp, the doorbell to her suite rang; Michaela signaled Herman to open the door.
Standing there was a nervous Martin holding a small bottle of perfume—he had managed to quickly buy it at the lobby shop: Chanel No. 5—a safe bet, he thought.
“The lady is expecting you; please follow me.” Herman led the guest to the seating area, where Michaela was seated in a large leather armchair. Martin walked over to her and clumsily kissed her outstretched hand. She was even more beautiful than on the plane; she was dressed entirely in green—a skirt with tiny pleats reaching just below her knees and a blouse unbuttoned low enough for him to glimpse her firm breasts and even make out the outline of her hard nipples through the blouse’s slightly glossy fabric. She sat with her legs crossed, and he could see her red toenails in her pumps; her fingernails were also painted red and were quite long.
“Sit down, Martin; I see you’ve brought something for me.”
“Yes, Madam.” He handed her the small bottle of perfume; Michaela opened it, dabbed some on her wrist, and smelled it. “An excellent choice, Martin.”
“Thank you, Madam.”
“Would you like some coffee, sir?” Herman asked.
“Thank you, black, please,” he replied. Herman left the room to make coffee in the small kitchen. Michaela looked at the man sitting across from her and noticed him glancing at the whip on the table.
“You want to get to know me and have dinner with me?”
“Yes, please,” he said, already feeling somewhat more at ease. Michaela noticed this and didn’t want it; she wanted him to feel uncomfortable in her presence. Herman returned with the coffee and a small dish of chocolates; he placed the coffee in front of Martin, and then knelt before Michaela, remaining there with the coffee cup on the tray until she had finished her drink.
Surprised by a spectacle that was unusual for him, Martin was intrigued and somewhat impressed by the lady; he looked at her—she had shoulder-length, grey-blonde hair cut with bangs, grey eyes with green eye shadow, black eyeliner, and red lips. She looked at him as if she was seeing right through him—or at least, that was how it felt to him. She dismissed Herman and turned back to Martin, deliberately subjecting him to a cross-examination; she asked his age, what he was doing in Bangkok, and whether he was in a relationship. Martin answered all her questions politely: he was 47, divorced, currently single, and in Thailand for a holiday.
Michaela told him she was in Thailand for work—as a professional Mistress—and that the man who had brought the coffee was her personal slave. Michaela saw Martin trying to process this information, yet he made no move to leave.
“I think you could become a good servant to me, Martin,” she said sternly.
“I don’t know, Madam; I’ve never experienced anything like this before,” he replied.
When she asked if he still wanted to have dinner with her now that he knew her profession, he said, “I would love to, Madam.”
“Kneel before me now, slave, and kiss my feet.” Martin immediately knelt before the lady and kissed her feet one by one; a moment later, following her command to undress, he stood before her with a pronounced erection. He tried to hide his stiff penis with his hands, but was ordered to kneel and clasp his hands behind his head while Herman removed his clothes. Martin felt self-conscious yet strangely pleased; he felt his face flushing. The stern lady ordered him to place his hands behind his back, and her servant bound them there with a plastic cable tie. She then bound his scrotum and cock with a plastic cable tie—and she did not do so gently.
It was the first time she had touched him, and a shiver of fear and pleasure coursed through his body; he had never been so hard before. The stern lady forced him to bend over the back of the armchair; he saw her pick up the whip from the table and instinctively knew what was coming. At the first stroke across his pale buttocks, he flinched from the searing pain and tried to straighten up, wanting to say something. Michaela always relished turning a man into her slave; this macho ladies’ man was on his knees before her in no time, and now she was going to thrash his buttocks before taking him hard anally.
Michaela walked around the armchair, grabbed Martin—who had partially risen after the first blow—by the hair, and pulled him back down. He saw something protruding from beneath her skirt; utter confusion washed over him, yet he obeyed instantly when she told him he must submit and was not to stand or speak until she gave the order. The second lash of the whip struck with force, sending another jolt of pain through his body—it burned intensely. He groaned with every blow and thanked her when she finally stopped the punishment.
Herman, who had remained on his knees throughout the procedure, had to fetch a short pleated skirt, lubricant, and a condom. Meanwhile, she removed her long silk skirt—she didn’t want to soil it, of course; a short skirt was more practical when fucking a slave in the ass. Herman quickly helped his Mistress into the short skirt, while she forced him to take her penis deep into his throat and service her as deeply as possible; afterwards, the condom was put on and lubricant applied. She forced herself upon Martin; he cried out, but she ordered him to be silent, punctuating the command with lashes of the whip across his back.
During the night flight to Bangkok, Herman had been forced to pleasure her orally twice in the lavatory, so it took quite a while for her to reach climax; Martin was thoroughly fucked, and she drove her penis deep into his anus for about twenty minutes—the pain began to give way to pleasure, and his slave-cock, which had gone limp, hardened once more; the combination of being fucked in a painful anus and the whip lashes triggered an ejaculation unlike any he had ever experienced before; Michaela felt the slave climaxing beneath her, and moments later, she filled him up.
Herman tended to his Mistress and cleaned up Martin’s semen; he was allowed to get dressed again and had to kneel once more before the Mistress, who sat in her armchair facing him—she had kept her short skirt on. He couldn’t take his eyes off her; it was all so unexpected and new to him. He now genuinely wanted to get to know the lady—perhaps over dinner—and simply see where things might lead. He never could have foreseen this; he had certainly enjoyed climaxing, and he found the experience of following orders and being punished pleasurable too—though he did hope no one would find out about this side of him. Fortunately, they were in Bangkok.
Michaela told Martin he was to report to Herman at 6:30 the next morning; he would receive further instructions in Herman’s room and then proceed to the Mistress for breakfast in her suite. Once Martin had left, Michaela asked her slave if he had learned anything useful.
“Not much; he only had a credit card, a mobile phone, and some Thai baht in his pocket. I noted down the credit card details, but his phone was locked with a code,” Herman said.
“Well, maybe next time,” she replied. He had to hand her the TV remote and kneel in such a way that he could serve as her footstool; he was allowed to return to his room at 11:00 pm.
The next morning, Martin stood at Herman’s door at exactly 6:30 am. Upon entering, Herman immediately began explaining what he was to do—and what he must avoid doing—when visiting the Mistress; he explained the slave positions, how to address her, how to satisfy her sexually, and so on, while they drank coffee and had a bite to eat.
“I was under the impression we would be having breakfast with the Mistress,” Martin remarked.
“The Mistress never eats at the same time as her slaves,” Herman replied. At 7:25 am, they stood before the door, which Herman opened with a key card; he remained in the suite’s hallway and asked for permission to enter. Michaela granted it, and both men knelt before her the moment they stepped inside.
Kneeling before this lady no longer felt strange to Martin; Michaela was dressed in a very sheer negligee, worn with a matching robe of the same transparent material, and Martin found himself unable to suppress his rising erection. Michaela looked at the slaves kneeling before her, sat down in her armchair, and crossed her legs.
“Give me your phone, slave,” she commanded Martin; without hesitation, he obeyed the order and handed her his phone.
“Give me your pass code and suck me off,” she ordered; again he complied, providing the pass code and beginning to suck her off just as Herman had instructed him that morning. Herman entered with a cup of coffee and a croissant on a tray and knelt beside Martin before his Mistress; he watched the head of the Mistress’s new slave bobbing up and down exactly as she desired—she used her whip to make her preferences clear.
After a while, she pulled him by the hair, thrust deep into his mouth, and came, spurting into his throat. Martin had paid close attention to the instructions, but the force and volume of her release took him completely by surprise; he nearly gagged and struggled mightily not to spit it out. Fortunately, he managed to swallow it—it actually tasted quite good, marking the first time he had ever tasted and swallowed semen.
Michaela finished her coffee and commanded, “Prepare my bath, slaves.”
Herman bathed his Mistress while Martin had to watch and learn; Michaela bathed briefly and then let her slave dry her off—a process Martin also had to observe. Both slaves had to assist her with dressing: sheer nylon stockings and a garter belt—though Martin struggled to attach the stockings to the clips—followed by the same pleated skirt she had worn on the plane during landing and disembarkation, and a blouse in a matching color; Herman laid out the coordinating jacket and set out her block-heeled pumps in the matching shade.
Afterward, she told Martin she had to work in another city for a week but could arrange comfortable accommodation for him at half the price of the current hotel; if he wanted this, he had to check out immediately and wait in Herman’s room for her call. While the two slaves went to the reception desk to check Martin out, she checked his mobile phone; she found nothing unusual, though she did copy the entire contents, install tracking software, and add her work number to his contacts.
Next, Michaela used her own mobile to call a Thai acquaintance, speaking with her for half an hour and later with the woman’s Dutch husband to ensure everything was understood. A short while later, she called Herman’s room from the hotel phone and told him to send Martin up.
Moments later, Martin knocked on the door and let himself in using Herman’s key card; following the customary ritual of crawling and kneeling, he had to help her put on her shoes and drape her coat over her shoulders, fastening it with a button. She then handed him his phone and told him her number was now saved in it. Michaela now sensed that she held total power over this fool and realized he was completely innocent of her suspicion that he might be a police officer.
He had to open the door for her and go straight to Herman; Michaela took the elevator to the reception, while Martin, following orders, took the stairs to the first floor. From the elevator, Michaela called Herman to say she was on her way to the limousine and that he should be ready at the agreed spot with Martin. This precaution was actually no longer necessary now that Martin had been cleared of suspicion. On his way down, Martin reflected on everything that had happened; he was glad to have his phone back and to have received this Mistress’s phone number—to him, it was a sign that she had accepted him. Back with Herman, he found the man already waiting and ready to move on immediately; they took the elevator to the hotel’s underground parking garage and walked from there to a quiet street along the side of the hotel.
When Michaela stepped outside, the limousine—which had been waiting for some time—pulled up; the doorman opened the rear door for her to get in, and after closing it again, the chauffeur drove—at her direction—to the side of the hotel. At the entrance to the parking garage, the two slaves were picked up; Martin’s two suitcases and Herman’s one were quickly stowed in the already open trunk, and the two men were then required to sit in the front seat next to the chauffeur. The party then set off through the bustling city toward a quiet suburb—or rather, an outlying district—of Bangkok.
After a fifty-minute drive, they arrived at a magnificent villa situated on a street lined with similar homes, all spaced well apart and separated by beautiful tropical gardens. After ringing the bell at the gate and speaking briefly into the intercom, the gate opened, allowing the chauffeur to drive up to the house, where the lady of the house, Parichat, gave Michaela an enthusiastic welcome. Parichat did not deign to glance at the two slaves; a white man and some Thai servants helped Herman and Martin with their luggage and led them to their quarters.
Michaela and Parichat went inside, where the staff they encountered bowed deeply to them; out on the terrace at the back of the house, the ladies took their seats in large wicker chairs, while a servant stood behind them, fanning them to keep them cool. Servants rushed over to serve Michaela and Parichat coffee, remaining on their knees with their trays held out before their mistresses.
Parichat was an old acquaintance of Michaela’s; she had previously run a practice in the Netherlands and had married a bit of a loser—a man named Harry—to secure her paperwork and residence permit. She eventually divorced him after finding a better slave to serve her—one with his own income and some assets; this new slave was considerably smarter. Harry remained her slave, however; she collected his welfare benefits, and he was used as a cleaner and occasionally appeared in her films.
Some years earlier, Michaela had been approached by Cathy—another old acquaintance—to act in a film being shot in Hong Kong. Günther was the producer back then, though not yet as experienced as he is now; things went horribly wrong when a slave of Cathy’s died on set due to her actions.
The following day, one of the people who had been present was missing: a Chinese man who later turned out to be the victim’s cousin. Michaela did not hesitate; she immediately evacuated her team from Hong Kong and managed to secure tickets to Singapore for Günther and his crew as well. The Chinese staff fled in all directions, but not before—acting on Michaela’s instructions—they had removed as much evidence as possible, including the victim’s body. Only the cousin who had fled was later questioned by the police; he stated that he believed his cousin had died in a traffic accident but otherwise knew nothing about the matter.
Cathy had gone into hiding in Hong Kong and—miraculously—escaped unscathed; penalties in China are severe, and foreigners are shown no leniency. The entire ordeal had been filmed, and a year later Günther released the footage, making a fortune because it looked so authentic; soon after, he was approached by a Japanese production company that suspected—as did others—that the recordings were genuine. He was invited to Japan and returned with a commission to produce several realistic films featuring extreme SM.
Günther received rough plot outlines for the films from the Japanese in very broken English; he immediately contacted Michaela, whom he had trusted implicitly since their time in Hong Kong. He wrote the screenplays and scripts with her, and his German director also collaborated on the project; meanwhile, in Thailand, Michaela and Parichat built up a network of helpers. Parichat used an alter ego for this work so that nothing could be traced back to her or her family—a precaution that also applied to her two closest associates.
Michaela, Parichat, and Tou (one of those close associates) starred in the films as Mistresses, while the slaves were ordered by Günther from the Japanese production company and delivered to a pre-arranged location. Günther was responsible for all other aspects of the operation. The ladies had earned a great deal of money from these films and established a reputation in the world of ruthless SM; they invested a portion of the proceeds into the villa where they were currently staying.
Günther also used the villa to shoot standard SM films, as actors and actresses from Thailand, Laos, the Philippines, and Cambodia were far less expensive than their Japanese and European counterparts. Diana, a young Dutch protégée of Michaela’s, frequently appeared in these films; with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and 1.80-meter stature, the beauty was a sensation in Asia—and her cruelty was unparalleled.
Tou joined Michaela and Parichat on the terrace; she was a stunning 35-year-old Thai woman who nonetheless looked like a very young girl. Tou was accompanied by two very young slaves; the younger of the two knelt and handed a folder to Michaela. The other slave made sure Tou was seated comfortably and began fanning her, while the youngest had to kneel beside her. The report detailed the costs and revenues of the operation; what struck Michaela was that costs were rising slowly but steadily while income remained unchanged. Parichat and Tou had naturally noticed this as well, and it was the reason for their meeting.
The fact that Tou looked so young was typically Thai, of course, but her clothing played a part too; she always wore very short skirts with blouses—like Thai schoolgirls, only with micro-skirts. Despite hailing from southern Thailand, she had a fair complexion and a straight nose rather than a flat one; Michaela thought she was a real stunner. She had been discovered by Parichat. Tou had an hour available for this conversation, as she had a session scheduled afterward, just like Michaela. They quickly went over business matters; first, Michaela asked Tou if she could train and discipline a Dutch slave for her over the course of a week.
“Yes, no problem, Parichat already asked me,” Tou said. She didn’t even need to see him; she would take him on after her session—or perhaps it would be better for him to observe the session itself. The cost of food and other household supplies in Thailand kept rising, and there was little to be done about it; it was decided to cut costs regarding the slaves by providing them with cheaper and less plentiful food. Michaela wanted to distinguish between household slaves and personal slaves, proposing that the owners themselves pay for their personal slaves.
This was least advantageous for Tou, as she had quite a few slaves—mostly very young boys and the occasional girl. Since the villa was also home to Parichat and Tou, their slaves mingled with the other slaves. Tou, an intelligent young woman, saw the logic of the proposal but noted that her slaves also contributed significantly to the business’s operations; it was agreed that Tou would devise a distribution formula, and they would make a final decision over dinner. The biggest expense, however, was the increasing extortion by the police—often by lower-ranking officers; it was clear that protection from higher up had been withdrawn.
A police colonel who was beholden to Michaela had retired—likely the reason Michaela promised to call him to see if there was anything he could do about the matter. After some further small talk, during which Parichat asked Michaela about her upcoming plans in Thailand, Michaela assumed Parichat was aware that Günther was there; after all, she did a lot of business with him and was presumably involved in organizing the film project.
Michaela told Parichat she would be filming with Günther and asked for permission to speak with her husband, Christiaan; Parichat had no objection, though she saw no point in being present herself, as her Dutch was not good enough. Michaela checked her watch, saw it was eleven o’clock, excused herself, and withdrew to her room. Herman was already there; he had left Martin with Christiaan and unpacked the suitcase. All the gifts she intended to give everyone at dinner that evening were laid out on the table; she had brought chocolate and licorice for Christiaan.
Christiaan was fiercely loyal and devoted to Parichat and would never betray her, but there was no harm in currying favor with him to gain information. Christiaan was Parichat’s partner, lover, and slave, but also her manager. Parichat was aware of her limitations—she was illiterate, had no formal education, and spoke broken Dutch and English—so she was no match for Michaela and Tou, her partners in this venture.
Herman was instructed to ask Christiaan to come up, then take Martin to Mistress Tou and tell him immediately that she would be training and educating him that week.
“Warn him that Mistress Tou is very strict,” she added to her slave. On his way down, Herman ran into Christiaan on the stairs; Christiaan said he was already heading up and asked if his Mistress could see him.
“I think so,” Herman said, walking quickly downstairs. Herman didn’t care much for Christiaan; as far as Herman was concerned, Christiaan had far too close a relationship with his Mistress. Herman walked briskly along the path between the lawns toward the slave quarters, which consisted of several small buildings. A smaller building housed the white slaves; it could accommodate up to ten slaves—a capacity designed for film shoots, though normally only two or three paying long-stay slaves were present. The building for the Thai slaves was much larger and more basic.
Herman did not sleep here, but in a small room next to Michaela’s on the first floor. Michaela had a large suite on the first floor, complete with a separate reception area, office, kitchen, and so on. Herman could enter the suite through an internal door; Michaela valued her privacy. Martin had unpacked his suitcase; a Thai attendant had helped him with this, bringing him towels and handing over the room key. Once the attendant had left, he stowed his money and documents in the hotel safe.
He was watching television when Herman knocked on the door; Martin let him in, and Herman said, “You need to change quickly into shorts—no underwear—and a T-shirt. Then I’ll introduce you to Mistress Tou; she speaks English and is going to train and instruct you. I have to warn you about her, though: she is extremely strict.”
Martin changed quickly; he no longer felt embarrassed about Herman remaining in the room—they had seen enough of each other in a short time.
Martin knelt alongside Herman before Mistress Tou. She had already changed for her session with a Thai politician; specifically, she had swapped her short skirt for leather one and a leather corset that left her breasts quite exposed—they were firm and rather large for a slender Thai woman. Her black boots reached above her knees, and her high stilettos made her stand 1.65 meters tall, though in reality, she was 1.55 meters. Herman was dismissed, leaving her alone with the kneeling Martin. She spoke reasonably good English; he could understand her well, and she could understand him.
“Welcome to Thailand, slave. While Mistress Michaela is away, I am your Mistress; my goal is to train you into an obedient slave,” she said to the kneeling man. “Thank you, Madam,” Martin replied quickly; before he knew it, Tou struck him across the face with her riding crop, leaving a nasty welt across his lips and cheek.
“Speak only when I give you permission, slave.”