I once met a man at an erotic fair in Hamburg. He had developed the principle of vacuum mattresses, which are used by rescue services to immobilize injured people with severe fractures. These mattresses consist of an airtight cover filled with plastic balls. Once the air is sucked out of the mattress by a suction device, the vacuum holds the person in place. I was allowed to try it once. It’s a strange feeling to sink into the mattress and realize that you suddenly can’t move.

When I equipped Monika’s basement with such a bed, I tried to find the manufacturer via the Internet. Either to find out more about how it works or to get a photo for the cover. But either he gave up his business or he sells these matrasses under a completely abstruse name that I didn’t come up with. In any case, my search was unsuccessful. Only the idea remained and I decided to memorialize the bed with my new story, “Video-Monitored.”

This episode also works as a standalone, so it can be read without reading the other volumes first. And again, at 45 manuscript pages and over 11,000 words, it clearly exceeds the length of a short story.

What it’s all about?

Monica has installed some micro-cameras in her playroom in the basement of her house. Initially, she just wanted to use the films to keep a nice memory of her sessions. But then friends started asking if they could use the well-equipped basement as well. And Monica realized she was getting curious.

Marion has just had her first nude photo shoot and doesn’t know how to handle the situation. When she calls her friend Monica, she finds out that another friend of hers, Sarah, is playing intimate games with her new acquaintance in the basement. And that Monica is watching them from her living room. Since Marion can’t be alone right now, she goes to watch as well.

Later that evening, Sarah finds out that she was watched having sex. She wants revenge. She persuades Marion to invite her Jujutsu coach Marcel to the basement. But is Marcel open to such games? They experiment with a vacuum mattress, alligator clips and nipple pumps. While Marcel is immobilized, Marion pushes him to his limits. Maybe even a little beyond.

Reading sample:

The smell of freshly brewed latte, usually a reliable mood lifter, could hardly comfort me today. I sat at the kitchen counter and stared into space, the coffee bowl between my hands.
Finally I picked up the phone and called my best friend Monika. I told her everything. She listened patiently, letting the torrent of unfiltered emotions pouring out of me wash over her, and only began to cautiously inquire after I had completely thrown up.
“It’s probably a hurdle for Marcel to sleep with one of his jiu-jitsu students,” she said.
“Then why did he ask me to stay after the photo shoot?” I hesitated and added, “Naked as I was.”
“I thought he knew how important this belt exam was to you. Maybe he meant it as a compliment. He thinks you’re beautiful. That’s understandable.”
“He didn’t even try.”
“You said he does this kind of shooting a lot?”
“It’s a hobby of his.”
“If he usually only works with paid models, it’s normal for him not to touch them. He’s used to keeping his distance. Even when his counterpart is naked and in poses that are usually taken as invitations.”
“But I’m not a model.”
“Last night you were.” Monika changed the subject. “Speaking of ‘posing for the camera.’ Do you know who’s here right now?”
“Daniel?”
I gave her ex-husband a lot of credit. He still had a key to her house and had shown up unannounced several times in the past.
Monika laughed. “No, Sarah. She asked me if she could use my game room tonight.”
“With Tobias?” I asked irritated. Her husband was a philistine in my eyes, and I could hardly imagine that Sarah had persuaded him to go with her to Monika’s basement, which was filled with sex toys of all kinds.
“No, with Oliver, the guy we picked up in the Schanzenviertel. Do you remember how fascinated he was with Sarah? She didn’t want to invite him home. Understandably. And so she just asked me.”
“She’s in your playroom with Oliver? I’d like to be a fly on the wall.”
“No problem. Sarah asked me to keep an eye on things. After all, she hardly knows Oliver.”
A light bulb went off in my head.
“You don’t have to stand outside the door eavesdropping, do you?” I asked.
“Much better. I installed a couple of microcameras in the basement. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have some film on hand just in case. Just in case I bring someone along who ends up acting weirder than expected. Then I could always document in court that I clearly said no.”
“You’re not telling me you’re sitting in the living room watching Sarah have sex?”
“They’re both trying out my vacuum mattress. Sarah’s on the bed, stark naked, unable to move, letting him rub her with herbal curd.”
“Herbal curd?”
“From my kitchen. He came back up to ask for it. I was out of honey.”
“Whipped cream would be more conventional.”
“Yes, but he didn’t want to whip any first. He wanted to get down quickly.”
“I wonder if they’d mind if I came over.”
“They’re both busy with themselves. I don’t think they’d mind.”

A little later, I was sitting on the sofa with Monika, the laptop on the low table in front of us, showing the playroom from six camera perspectives. Great software. At the click of a mouse, you could zoom in and out of any of the windows. One of the cameras was aimed directly at the large iron bed, while another captured the bed from the side.

from: Sandra Manther: Video-Monitored