Disclaimer: User-Generated Content with Erotic Material
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I’m Alexander, CEO of a multimillion-dollar investment company in Frankfurt, and I’m into BDSM. So it was really convenient that we hired a new assistant a while ago: Julian. He caught my eye right away, and I watched him and imagined all the things I would do to him if he were at my service. Julian was fresh out of college. He was young, polite, and had a smile that expressed either insecurity or quiet admiration. Maybe both. From day one, he tried hard to work flawlessly and please everyone, especially me. And me? I knew exactly how to handle men like him. With a busy schedule and a full to-do list every day, we often worked late into the evening. As the sun set outside, my office slowly grew quiet. The floor rented by my company emptied out, but Julian stayed behind, staying longer and longer.
“I can finish this,” he would say, his gaze lingering on me longer than necessary. I let him be and began to test him.
I gave him small tasks with a hidden agenda. A locked filing cabinet that he couldn’t open until I silently placed the key on his desk. A meeting where I suddenly asked him to speak for me, just to see him blush, but obey. Julian learned quickly. And he seemed to enjoy obeying. One Friday, he stayed late again. My voice was calm when I said, “You’ve worked well this week, Julian. But your posture could be better.” He blinked. “My posture?” I nodded. “I’m not talking about back pain.”
He fell silent. I stood up and walked slowly around the desk. My shoes on the parquet floor sounded like a soft beat. Julian looked at me. Alert and open at the same time. “Do you like learning, Julian?” I asked him. He nodded. “Yes, very much.” I stepped behind him. “Good,” I said. “Because some lessons don’t start with paperwork.” I lowered my voice, making it sound deeper. “In my world, Julian, it’s not just about numbers. It’s about presence. Control. Discipline. Trust.“ He didn’t answer, but his hands now rested quietly in his lap. As if he understood that every word I said now carried weight and that every reaction from him would be scrutinized. ”When you’re ready,“ I said quietly, ”you won’t wonder what I want from you anymore. You’ll feel it.” A moment passed.
Then he looked up at me and whispered, “I want to learn.” I smiled appreciatively. He had taken the first step. At that moment, I knew that next Friday would bring more than just overtime. The week passed as if it had been made especially to prepare him for this moment. Julian did excellent work and was almost a little too eager.
I also noticed a new alertness about him. His reaction to my voice, his eyes darting briefly when I walked too close to him. He seemed to understand that something had begun, but not where it would lead him. And that’s exactly what I found so appealing. On Friday evening, he stayed late as usual. The office was dark, only my desk lamp was still on. I stood up, took my jacket from the back of the chair and threw it over it. “Close the door, please, Julian.” He did so without a word. “And then come with me.” I led the way. Not to the elevator, but to the door at the very end of the corridor. It had no sign and no windows.
I used the room as my private conference room. Here I could be alone or “work” with Julian. Julian entered. You could see he was unsure. I turned to him: “Don’t sit down,” I said. “Not yet.” He froze, but didn’t object. I stepped closer. Calm and controlled. I looked him in the eyes, searching for possible resistance, but found curiosity instead. Good conditions. “You wanted to learn?” I asked. “Yes, definitely.” I put my index finger on his lips. “Then first learn to be silent. Not because you have nothing to say, but because you can sense when words are superfluous.” He swallowed briefly and then nodded. I noticed how his hands clasped together. How his shoulders slumped. He let go, became very light. That was the first drop in the pool of devotion. I walked slowly around him. I could almost physically feel his body following my presence with every step, without moving. Then I stood behind him, leaned forward, and whispered, “You will follow me without question. You will be silent as long as I wish. You will not try to please, you will obey. Because you need to. Because you know that my control does not restrict you, but liberates you.”
He took a deep breath. I smelled his skin, his tension, and his uncertain desire. I let my fingertips glide over his shoulder, fleetingly, almost businesslike. And yet the gesture electrified him. A barely perceptible tremor, but no retreat. “Today,” I said quietly, “your first lesson is simple: presence.” I stepped in front of him and looked him in the eyes. “I want you to just stand there. Still, upright, with your hands behind your back. You do nothing except feel.” He assumed the position, a little awkwardly, but trying hard. I stepped back and sat down. And just left him standing there. Five minutes. Ten. The tension grew, not only in him, but also in me. I could see him fighting the urge to move, to ask what this was all about. But he stayed. And then I saw it: the moment when he surrendered control. Completely silent. I stood up and stood in front of him. “Good,” I said. “You felt how quiet you can become when you no longer have to control everything.” He looked up and I knew the game had begun. Not a game in the childish sense. But a game of strength and trust. And I had no intention of letting it end anytime soon.
So there stood Julian in front of me, motionless, his hands behind his back. His posture was no longer that of an assistant waiting for orders. Something had shifted. In his body language and in his gaze. And I had him exactly where I wanted him. I stepped slowly to the side. Said quietly, “Come with me.” We didn’t go far, just a few steps to a sideboard made of dark ebony. On it lay a narrow leather box. I opened it. Inside was an elegant black silk tie. He said nothing, but I saw his breath catch for a moment. “This isn’t a toy,” I said. “It’s a symbol.”
I took the tie in both hands and slowly stroked it. “When you wear it, it means you accept my rules. That here, you are not who you are out there in everyday life, but someone who lets himself be led.“ I stepped behind him. ”Do you agree?“ He nodded. ”Say it.“ He hesitated for a few milliseconds. ”Yes, I agree.” I pushed his chin up slightly so that he raised his head and placed the soft material around his eyes. No restraint, no punishment, just a sign. A moment that changed everything. He took a deep breath. Then he was completely still. I sat back down in the leather chair and left him standing there, blind, calm, and upright. The sight was aesthetic, disciplined, and truly satisfying. “You won’t see anything tonight,” I said calmly. “But you will feel. Your uncertainty, your expectations, and the trust you place in me.”
I left him standing there. The minutes passed. No movement, only his breathing, deep and calm.
And then I began to speak, slowly, controlled, and with the voice of a man who does not seduce, but leads. I told him what I saw, how he held himself, and how much I appreciated his effort and silence. “The control you give me,” I said, “does not make you weak. It makes you free. Because only those who choose to obey have true power over themselves.” He trembled slightly, but not out of fear, out of devotion. I stood up, moved very close to him, so close that he could feel my breath on his cheek. “When you’re ready for the next step,” I whispered, “you won’t ask for it. You’ll show it.” Then I left him standing there, blindfolded, in the silence of this room, which was no longer just a conference room but had become a ritual chamber. I sat down again, waited, and watched. Because if you want to lead, you have to be able to wait. I knew he would give me the sign soon.
The following Friday, the evening light descended on the city as if it understood that this room now belonged to a different time. I had called Julian into the conference room, where he now stood, motionless and blind, just like last time. The black silk over his eyes made him vulnerable, but at the same time gave him a special dignity. He didn’t stand there like a loser, but like someone who had made a decision. I approached him cautiously and stood close in front of him. He showed no reaction. His breathing was calm, but I could sense that every fiber of his body was on high alert. “You may move now,” I said quietly. “One movement. Show me that you are ready.” He seemed to think for a moment. Then he sank to his knees, like someone who understands that surrender is not a loss, but a choice.
I stepped closer. He couldn’t see me, but he could feel me, my warmth, my presence, and my expectation. I let one hand slowly slide through his hair. Guiding, not caressing. Not comfort, but a sign: You are here. You are staying. He exhaled sharply, leaning his head slightly against my palm. I let him. “Good,” I said calmly. “You understand that your strength lies not in resistance, but in obedience.” My hand rested on the back of his neck. I applied gentle pressure, but not roughly or forcefully. Just enough that he bent lower and lowered his chin. His forehead almost touched my leg. I left the final decision to him. And then it happened, all by itself. He tilted his head a little further. And rested his forehead against me. Silently, calmly, without a word. An act that was more intimate than any quick touch. He had found his place.