The Schwarzer Panther Nachtclub, on Skalitzer was a popular venue for fetish fans according to Kommissar Hoch. The tall German plainclothes officer was in charge of the German investigation and seemed extremely capable of handling the operation. Kurt Hoch explained that he would personally keep an eye on me and that I was to report to him when I arrived.
The guests apparently wouldn’t be wearing hoods, so he said that I’d easily spot him, or the other 3 members of his team. Then, if the suspect appeared in the club, I could alert them straight away.
I wore my faded cut jeans, a pink blouse and a gauze scarf to hide the marks left on my neck by the noose. I caught a taxi at 10pm to the club and was dropped at the rear entrance, where a line of girls about my age were queuing up to go in. After a 10 minute wait, we all filed into the building; and after having our tattoos checked were directed along a corridor to the dressing rooms.
I found a door with a handwritten sign, ‘Maids’ written on it and when I pushed it open, I found I was in the right place. There was rubber clothing everywhere and girls half dressed in mainly pink maid’s outfits. A slim, austere woman dressed in a black dress, came over to greet me and looked me up and down with a critical eye.
“You from the agency?” she asked. When I nodded, she took my arm and checked my Tattoo. “Just one of you. I was expecting two.”
“I think the other girl is ill,” I offered by way of explanation.
“You whores are so unreliable! Well you’ll have to work harder tonight. Come with me,” she ordered.
She led the way to an open fronted, empty cubicle and pointed to a wide shelf. “Get undressed, put your clothes up there and I’ll get your costume!”
I put my bag and shoes on the shelf, then slipped out of my denim skirt, t-shirt, panties and hold-ups. I was just going to peek out when she appeared carrying an armful of black rubber clothing.
“Er… Shouldn’t I have a pink dress? I queried.
“No all agency whores wear black! Call me when you need your laces tightening,” she said, handing the items over to me. “Oh, and there’s powder if you need it.”
I sorted through the clothes and discovered that there were no panties. I pulled the long latex stockings on first and then dropped the long sleeve top over my head. I didn’t bother with powder and just managed to get my arms into the sleeves, without tearing the latex. The high neck top was short and extremely thin across by boobs.
One inch holes had been cut to allow my areolas and nipples to bulge out from openings in the latex. The dress was a beautiful bit of kit. The top part was a corset, which had had the laces loosened, so that I could wrap it round my midriff and do the clasps up at the front.
Fastened round the base of the corset, were three layers of soft latex skirts, of which the lower two were white. They were ridiculously short, so whenever I bend forward I would have no protection at all on my exposed butt cheeks.
“Miss!” I called out.
When she arrived, I turned my back to her and she tightened the laces, until my petite body had been transformed from an ‘8’ into a ‘6’. It was uncomfortably tight, but I had worn similar restrictive clothing before, so I knew I would quickly adjust to the tightness.
“Follow me,” commanded the manageress.
As we strode between the girls in their pink rubber outfits, I noticed that most of them were fully dressed and were wearing panties and hoods.
“Er Miss, my outfit, where’s the rest of it?” I queried. She looked over her shoulder and gave me a disdainful look.
“I’m taking you there girl, to the executive changing room.”
She hurried up a flight of stairs and finally led me into another dressing room. The executive changing room was very different! Shelves down either side of the long narrow room were overflowing with BDSM paraphernalia. Hoods, masks, dildos, clothing, straps and chains. I had never seen as much leather and black rubber gear in one place before.
A muscular young man holding a crop, got up from behind his desk, stepped round it and approached us. He was wearing tan leather trousers, a pink, short sleeved silk shirt and tattoos on both arms.
A shock of short blonde hair and a number of piercings cave him a distinctive appearance, while his soft blue eyes and cruel wide mouth, sent out mixed messages about his temperament. He looked gay, but not a man I’d like to argue with! However, I didn’t feel threatened by him at all, because I was sure his interests lay elsewhere.
“Kaufman Agency girl, finally arrived and on her own!” The manageress scowled.
“Fucking agency!” cursed the blonde guy. “So fucking unreliable.” He turned to me once the manageress had left the room. “Your ass clean girl?”
“Sure,” I replied.
It was a question I wasn’t familiar with, but I imagined that organizers had to check such things at parties when they were expecting their whores to provide anal sex several times in a night.
“My name’s Dorf, what’s yours?” he asked.
“Zoe,” I replied.
Mary explained that all the officers would know me by that name.