Treasure Island

Part 2

We'd spent a couple of hours on this and were now given the choice between having lunch served in the restaurant or retiring to our cabins and sending a slave for it. I didn't notice anyone opting for the restaurant when dragging off my slaves. My young friend pushed his along with a firm hand on her bottom, literally licking his lips. "Don't forget your lunch, young man. You've got to preserve your strength". He didn't seem to have heard what I said. "Gee, man! First time up a girl, for real. I've only done some petting and had a couple of blowjobs on the back seat". I shook my head sadly, grinning to his father and entered the cabin, which in fact was a suite.

Once inside I unleashed my slaves, but kept them cuffed and shackled, and sat down in an armchair, shifting my eyes from one to the next and back again. "Ton nom?" I shot at the petite girl. "Marianne, Mâitre". "Profession?" "Etudienne, Mâitre". She kept her eyes downcast. "Âge?" "Vingt ans, Mâitre". "Tu parle Anglais?" "Oui, Mâitre, un peu". I glanced briefly at the other two. "You're no stranger to bondage?" "Mais non, ...Master". "Sir will do, and pain?" "Yes, Sir". "Forced, talked into it or because you like it?" "I like, Sir, some". "What exactly do you like?" She looked up briefly. "What my master likes, Sir". "You've had one?" "Two, Sir". "Your boyfriends?" "No, Sir. They, eh, they pay". "So you're a prostitute?" Now her eyes caught mine. "Non! Je... I live with them, they pay my school, my clothes". "And you allowed them to use you in return". "Yes, Sir". "So you don't come unprepared to this?" "No, Sir". "But with your former masters you could set the limits, walk away if they got too rough. You can't do that here". "No, Sir". "As long as you realise that". "Yes, Sir".

"Good, and you, 34. Name and age?" "Lua, Sir, nineteen". "So you speak English as well?" "Yes, Sir, and French". "You're from Tahiti?" "Yes, Sir". "I can see that you've been whipped. By whom?" She glanced at the boy. "Luan, Sir". "That's him?" She nodded. "Your boyfriend?" Another nod. "Why did he whip you?" "When we make love, Sir". She seemed quite unperturbed. 'Interesting'. "And who whipped you, then, Luan?" He had a pleasant deep voice. "Lua,…Sir". 'Surprise, surprise!' "You allowed a girl whipping you?" "Yes, Sir". He looked calmly at me. "Why? A big boy like you!" "We like, Sir". "So you're submissive, both of you?" He shook his head. "No, Sir, but make love when hurt is good, very good". "Then you didn't enter this game to fulfil a fantasy about living as a slave?" "No, Sir, we need money". "But one of you was bound to lose?" "We, know, Sir, but we need money very much and we know pain". "And you'll get it, lots of it, from me, but not just that. I'll humiliate you, fuck you, both of you. Can you take that?" They nodded in unison. "Are you sure, Luan? You know the consequences if you blow a fuse because I'm degrading and torturing your girlfriend. I can still swap you for another slave". "If I see it not, she is hurt anyway, Sir. If I is here, she is not alone". "OK, then. I'm staying for three months, so you'll have plenty of opportunity. Just now I want my lunch, give me your hands". He shuffled closer, turned his back and knelt in front of me. I unlocked his cuffs, but not the hobble. "Salad and bread, ham and cheese, a bottle of good white wine. Food enough for four". "Yes, Sir". He shuffled out.

I'd already had a quick look around the cabin and opened a wall cabinet containing a limited selection of torture instruments. I found some lengths of twine and turned to the two girls. "Move close together, facing each other". The string was threaded through their nipple rings and tightened until Marianne was forced on tiptoe to compensate the six inches difference between their heights. The girls moaned softly and whimpered when I did the same with their pussy rings. "Delicious!" I took a step back to admire them and sat down again, opening my jeans and dragging out my soft cock. "Now suck me". Wincing with pain the girls crabbed sideways and cried out when they almost stumbled, trying to get on their knees. They pressed their lovely naked bodies close together to alleviate some of the strain in their pain wracked breasts and cunts and finally were close enough to lick up and down either side of my slowly raising staff.

That's how Luan found us when he came back, followed by another slave, carrying trays and bottle. I watched him keenly while his girlfriend swallowed my cock, but he just calmly moved a low table beside my chair, arranged the lunch and poured a glass of Chablis from the bottle the other slave had opened before leaving, then took a step back to stand beside the table, hands clasped on his back and eyes carefully downcast. I changed to the other hot mouth and leaned back, enjoying Marianne's skilful ministrations and sipping my wine. When the glass was empty, I put it down for a refill and told the boy to break the bread and cut up ham and cheese in small pieces, then began fingerfeeding myself and the two working girls. It was a rare sight to see their lips and jaws alternatively chewing the food or sucking on my now aching cock and it got more and more difficult to keep myself in check, but I managed until the plate was empty and I with a sigh spurted into Lua's mouth. She swallowed frantically, but some of my sperm seeped down her chin. I told her fellow slave to lick her clean and looked up at her boyfriend, but he kept his eyes to the floor.

"Aah! That was great, girls, you deserve a reward. Lie down on the floor, Lua on top". They looked pleadingly at me, but got an impatient stare back and once again had to try moving into position without hurting themselves more than necessary. They were openly crying when they eventually were stretched out, but it should get worse. "Fuck her arse, boy!" I indicated the brown girl on top without looking up at my slave. I could feel the tension and he hesitated for long moments, but then rattling of chains announced that he was moving round the table to kneel by the two pairs of chained feet. It wasn't easy with his own ankles hobbled, but he managed to straddle them and push himself forward until he could grab the brown globes and part them to reveal a puckered hole. "I lick first?" He looked at me and I nodded yes. His tongue played around it and stabbed into the tunnel as far as it would go, before he moved forward again to line up. It had aroused him, his monstrous cock was stiff as a board and it seemed as if it couldn't possibly penetrate the tightly closed ring, but I guessed that it had been up there before and watched, fascinated, when it ever so slowly disappeared, inch by agonising inch until the heavy balls banged against the strained pussy. The girls were whimpering and he leaned down to whisper something into his girlfriend's ear. An encouragement, I guessed. "You were told to fuck her, not to fall asleep, slaveboy, let me see some action". He was trembling, with rage perhaps, when rising on his arms to move slowly and carefully back and forth. I could have ordered him to go faster, but didn't want to press too hard, not just now, so I watched and listened to his heavy breathing and the girls' moans.

"You can stop there, boy". His shoulders slumped in relief. "There's another hole waiting for your attention. Get off and turn them around". That made his whole body go tense. He clenched his fists and the sinews in his neck were tight as bowstrings, but still he controlled his rage, eased out the tool, now covered in brown slime and as gently as possible moved the tied bodies until he could straddle the petite girl. "You're lubricated, so there's no need to prepare her. Get going". His large hands, now trembling violently, opened the pert little bottom and he touched the engorged head of his pole to the tiny entrance, pressing gently. Marianne sobbed something I didn't catch and screamed when her hole was forced to let in the monster. Lua's screams joined in when the French girl began fighting against the anal rape and their rings tore into the sensitive skin. At last the boy looked up. "I can not, Sir", he moaned. "Cannot what?" "It is too little". "Cannot or will not?" "Please, please, is not possible". Well, he had tried, so I believed him. "OK, you may stop then". "Thank you, Sir, thank you!" He sat up, still hard and throbbing. "And let her suck you off instead". His face fell, but he dutifully got off to crawl around and present the disgusting piece of meat to his, or rather my victim's small mouth. I heard her retching, but her tongue came out to lick away the other girl's shit. She opened wide, but hardly more than the head fit into her cavern and she gagged even on that. "Not of much use to you, is she", I sneered, "Can your girl take it?" "Yes, Sir". "OK, change, but hurry, this is boring".

It didn't take long before she had to swallow her second load, bigger than mine, judging from the way her throat was working. 'Got a healthy lunch that day, didn't she?' When his cock had returned to its normal state I told Luan to untie the girls and free their hands. "Something to get rid of the taste". I offered my glass to the brown girl when the two of them managed to get on their knees. She smiled shyly and took a sip, while the other girl looked on enviously, probably thinking that what she'd had to taste was just as bad. "Thank you, Sir". Lua handed me back the glass. "Give it to your slave sister, she'd better rinse too, and then get into a sixtynine. I want to see some girl/girl action". They looked shyly at each other, while Marianne took a good mouthful, then got back down on the floor with her on top to begin licking each other's pussies. I glanced at the boy and saw him watching the show disdainfully. "Get on your knees and lick the arsehole you couldn't use". His eyes flashed, but once again he did as bidden.

The girls were squirming on the floor, moaning loudly under the attacks on their most sensitive spots, Marianne not least, with two hot tongues torturing her, and I had to admit to myself that the three of them were performing well. Actually much better that I'd dared hope for. 'Lucky again, old boy. This is going to be great fun, for you at least'. The girls screamed out their orgasms almost simultaneously and slumped on top of each other, completely spent. "Don't I deserve a polite 'Thank you'?" I called, and got whispered replies back. "OK, boy, clean them, with your tongue, cunts and arseholes, and do those dirty feet as well". "Yes, Sir". Completely humiliated, he began his loathsome task, while the girls squirmed and giggled, not least when a raspy tongue slid over the dusty soles. The brown girl's looked as if she was used to going barefoot. 'Good for her'. In my opinion a proper slave is a barefoot slave. When they were thoroughly clean, I declared my dissatisfaction with his work and ordered them to take a shower instead. "Wash each other and leave the door open". They got up and headed for the bathroom, Lua shutting the door behind her. "Hey, I told you to leave it open!" She poked her head out. "But we have to... to...". "Piss, and that's no reason for going against my orders". "No, Sir". She threw it open and I saw the other girl sitting down on the bowl. "Slaves don't use my toilet. Squat over the drain in the shower". With a resigned look she followed orders to let a stream of piss splash over her hobbled feet. The kneeling boy looked away. "And you can crawl over here and suck me". He hesitated, swallowing hard. "Get to work, slave, or is your tongue too tired?" "No, Sir", he mumbled and ambled closer to open my trousers and drag out the member, looking at it with disgust. "Don't try telling me that you don't know how to do it". "No, Sir". He closed his thick lips around me and began swirling his tongue up and down the stiffening shaft. I leaned back, enjoying it and watching the action in the bathroom, where the girls had finished pissing and were now soaping each other up under the hot spray.

It wasn't perfect, but for a beginner the boy didn't do too badly, yet I decided to test him further. Keeping myself in check wasn't difficult, considering that I'd already come once less than an hour ago, so he was still sucking when the girls returned, fresh and damp from their shower. "Argh, you're useless, boy. Back off, and you take his place, Marianne". His skin turned a shade darker and I suppose that he was blushing with shame or rage, but he shuffled back and the petite girl knelt to continue his work. Not for long, she turned out to be a real expert cocksucker who took me down her throat with practised ease and made me spurt within seconds, effortlessly swallowing the load. "Aah! Excellent". She let me out, cleaning the limp member on the way, and looked up with a smile. "Merci, Mâitre". "I hope your arse is better than your mouth, boy. Is it virgin?" "Excuse, Sir, I understand not". He looked puzzled. "Have you been fucked up the arse, boy?" Once again his face darkened. "No, Sir". He looked away. "You will be". "Yes, Sir", he mumbled. "But not just now. I'll take a look around the ship. You can sort my clothes and repack the suitcases". "Yes, Sir". The girls nodded. "And you may eat your lunch, boy, then clear away and have a shower". "Thank you, Sir".

I went on deck to find guests gathered around the swimming pool, relaxing in deck chairs, all of them with a slave kneeling beside or standing behind their chair. "Hi, there". My young friend hailed me while emerging from the pool. "Hello, had a good rest?" I smiled mischievously. He climbed up beside me and stood dripping with a broad grin on his face. "You must be joking! I can rest when I get old. No, man, I fucked". "For hours?" I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, came five times". 'Oh, the stamina of youth!', I thought enviously. He beckoned impatiently to his slavegirl, who came stumbling with a large fluffy towel. Stumbling, because she was 'dressed' in fishnet stockings, fastened at mid thigh with garters, and a pair of sandals with five inch spike heels. Nothing else, except her collar and cuffs, and two small bells hooked to her nipple rings. A short chain hobbled her ankles and she looked exhausted, with red rimmed eyes and a face puffy from crying. When she eventually managed to reach us and begin drying her young master, he slapped her breasts to make the bells jingle. "Nice, aren't they? Used to be my sister's, but my brother in law prefers a chain, so she gave them to me at her wedding. Mum has a big one in her clit ring as well. You can always hear where the slave is and if not, you know that she's trying to snatch a rest". The poor girl knelt to dry his feet and he slapped her arse. "Fucking was simply so great, much better than I expected. I took her nice and slow, vanilla style, the first time". He shook his head. "Wow! Dunno how to describe it". "So warm, so soft, so wet, so tight!" I answered for him. "Yeah, but her mouth wasn't bad either. Couldn't get it down her throat, though, she nearly fainted when I tried. Dad says that it's so great". "She'll learn and it is, but different. The combination of her tongue and the hot breath is very stimulating". "Don't know how to thank you, I owe you so much". "No need, pal. How's her arse, I suppose you've tried that too?" "Yeah, dunno, it did hurt a bit, me that is". He grinned. "And her too, screamed like a banshee so I had to tie her up". "It can be a bit too tight. Let her wear some plugs to open her up". "I know. Sis has been training with some for the last year, her husband prefers that hole, and it was much better when I fucked dad's slave". "Not surprisingly, most Arab boys have been buttfucked, because they can't touch the girls". "But the very best was when dad and I fucked her together. Him in her arse and me in her cunt. Fantastic! I could feel him all the time, never been so close to him. Greatest dad in the world". "You're one lucky boy". "He's promised me a joint session after dinner. We're going to hang them up, face to face and with the boy up her cunt, whip them some and then fuck their arses". "Your father is a very kind and considerate master to allow his slave a bit of fun too".

The girl finished drying him and he told her to fetch a coke for himself and a glass of white wine for me while we found a couple of vacant chairs. The other guests were casually dressed in shorts and t-shirts or swimwear, some of the women topless. Most of the slaves were still naked, but some dressed in pieces of fetishwear. Fishnet stockings and spike heels were the most popular, but crotchless rubber pants came a close second. There were leather bras with holes cut to show nipples, flimsy, transparent skirts and slips and shorts. Chains were dangling from nipple rings, some clipped to the collar to raise the tempting mounds, and other, weighted, chains were distorting cunt lips, while boys had swollen genitals tied up with thin string. Striped hide was on display everywhere. I'd guessed right about the leather couple, whose two German skater boys were in crotch- and bottomless black chaps, their upper bodies strapped into metal studded harnesses. The boys were kneeling upright and their bare bottoms sported a splendid pattern of signal red stripes, but they didn't seem particularly unhappy, nursing large bottles of cokes and laughing with their masters. The same couldn't be said about the slaves of the dominant couple, strapped as they were into much more viscous harnesses. The girl's went around her not very large breasts to make them bulge like two red and throbbing pears and the boy's was ensnaring his cock and balls, displaying them prominently. Both of them had the handle of a flogger rammed up their arseholes, the multiple strands swishing around their legs like tails and it was obvious that their backsides had been in very close contact with them. The Russian girl stood beside her master, wrists clipped to her collar and feet spread by a bar, probably to show how much he'd already learned. As far as I could judge, he'd use a cat-o-nine on her back, a crop on her breasts and a paddle on her bum, yet she seemed calm and composed. He had apparently made the right choice. The foot man had locked his girl's wrists to her ankles and was using her as a footstool. Her red and swollen feet proved his fetish.

"Where do you get those things?" I asked, caressing the Swedish girl's leg. "There's a clothes depot here on the ship and Dad says there's much more on the island. Want me to show you?" "Thanks, I'd like to get something for my slaves". He clipped a leash to the girl's cunt rings and dragged her along, stumbling behind him and begging him not to walk so fast. I found some nicely coloured long wrap-around skirts, what they locally call pareos, for my two Polynesians to give them a native look, and short, plaited skirts for my little Frenchman and sent them with a slave to my cabin.

The lad suggested that we went up to another deck to have a look at the games. They were what one could expect on a ship, playing around with golf clubs, darts, and croquet mallets, but the holes, boards, and arches were a bit unusual. "Hey, man, that sure looks fun, but I ain't never played golf". "That'll just make it even better. Give it a try". Six slavegirls were placed in a row on their backs, strictly hogtied, arms lashed to shins to make them arch their backs. Golf balls were placed in the hollow of their navels and played from there. Judging by the bruised stomachs, the players weren't exactly experts, but certainly didn't lack enthusiasm. They swung the clubs with gusto and were rewarded with screams from the tormented girls, not least when a strike went wild enough to smash into a tender breast. Sometimes they did hit the ball to send it towards the waiting hole, which of course belonged to other naked girls, tied spreadeagle to ringbolts in the deck. Strings run from their pussy rings and around their thighs spread their cuntlips apart to reveal an inviting target. A player scored one point by hitting her inner thighs no more than two inches from the hole, two points for actually hitting it and three if he drove in the ball. This score system of course made them swing hard and the screams of the hole keepers joined those of the ball keepers. The lad claimed a vacant lot to start his career in the noble sport and the girl was soon screaming and begging when his clumsy efforts made her breasts dance and her stomach turn red and blue. His private slave knelt at a safe distance from the wildly swinging club, staring wide-eyed at her master's casual cruelty.

I left him to enjoy the fun and strolled over to watch the dart players. Targets were painted on the buttocks of yet another six girls, chained bent over a waist high bar with their knees lashed together to prevent irreparable damage. Not that the darts were really dangerous, the pins were rather short, but long enough to be firmly embedded in the quivering flesh if the aim was right. I consider myself a pretty good player, but discovered that it wasn't as easy as it looked, because the targets kept moving when the weeping girls wriggled their aching arses in a vain attempt to avoid the stinging pins. I kept hitting the thighs or shins or missing altogether, but after ten attempts eventually got the knack of it and managed to place my next ten hits within the circles, closer and closer to the centre and at last raised my arms in triumph when the dart almost disappeared into the brown hole. My target was howling and crying hysterically when I went over to retrieve the darts and I caressed her arse gently. "Aw, girl, it can't that bad. No real harm done. You're not even bleeding very much", I assured her, but she didn't seem to be listening, so I turned away in disgust, handing the darts to the next player.

They used slaveboys as croquet arches. Made them kneel upright, spreading their legs, and chained their wrists to their ankles, then tied fairly heavy bells to their dickheads to weigh them down. The bells tinkled delightfully when the balls rolled through, slamming the meat away. It was great fun and I spent half an hour playing, actually got so skilled that I could screw the ball to smash not only into the dicks and bells but into the sack behind too. Absolutely the best game on offer, not least because the boys were less noisy than the wenches, trying to look strong and manly, only flinching and occasionally moaning when a particularly lucky roll hit their balls real hard. Eventually I got tired of that too and went back to see how my young friend was doing, reaching him just at he with a lucky swing sent his ball swishing through the air to hit the hole so accurately that it disappeared completely inside. I clapped my hands. "Great! Keep that up and you'll become a new Tiger Woods". He smiled proudly and went over to dig the ball out of the hysterically sobbing girl.

The strenuous exercise had tired me, so I went back to my cabin to relax for a while before dinner, paying a short visit to the clothes store on the way. My three slaves were sitting on the floor, but turned on their knees, clasped their hands behind their backs and lowered their heads when I entered. The cabin was neat and tidy, so I'd no reason to scold them for being idle. "Discussing your master, were you, slaves?" "No, Sir", Marianne answered quietly, "Telling about our lives". "Hmm". I went towards the door to my balcony. "Fetch me a bottle of white wine and you two come out here". I sank down in a deck chair. "I need a footstool, boy". "Yes, Sir". He got down on all fours, offering his back. "Not like that, fool! Arse towards me, the fleshiest part of you, and hands between your legs". He moved around and I clipped his wristbands to the restraints on his ankles. "And now a small adornment". I grabbed his cock and balls to wrap them with twine, tightening it until the delicate flesh looked like a deformed sausage, then hung one of the heavy bells from it. "You get one stroke with the cane for each time I hear a sound from that". The brown girl knelt beside my chair and I waved a fat butt plug in her face. "Make this wet". With a frightened look she meekly opened her mouth to suck on the rubber. "Don't get scared, it's not for you". I opened the boy's arse with one hand while forcing in the intruder with the other. He grunted and the bell jingled merrily. "You've been opened up, girl, since you could take him, but I don't want to hurt myself because he's too narrow. There!" The fattest part of the plug plopped past his sphincter and the boy sighed. I slapped his buttocks. "Better get used to it. You'll be wearing it for a day or two before we try the next size". I turned to the girl and clipped smaller bells to her nipple rings. "On your hands and knees, I need a table. Same rules as I told your boyfriend".

Marianne came back with a bottle in a cooler and a glass, fetched a tray and pressed her slave sister's back gently before making up my table, kneel and serve a cool glass. "Aah!" I took a sip. "Very nice. Clean my feet". "Yes, Sir". She crawled around to the other side of my chair to relieve me of loafers and socks. The bell jingled and the boy grunted angrily. "Stuff his mouth, I don't want his stupid comments". She guessed what I wanted and balled up one of the sweaty rags before gently tapping his cheek to make him open up and receive the gag. The bell jingled again. "Eager to taste the cane, are you, boy?" I taunted while the petite girl began washing me with her tongue. I didn't envy her that task. My feet are the one thing about myself of which I'm not very proud. Not that they're ugly or deformed, but no matter what I do, what kind of soap or talcum I use, they always get damp whenever I put on socks and shoes, and what's even more embarrassing, they stink to high heaven. Yet the girl didn't bat an eyelid when sucking on my toes, her little pink tongue darting in the spaces between them. "And how about you, slavegirl?" I slid a hand down the brown arse beside me, fingering her ringed lips. The small bells jingled. "Just as eager, eh?" I flicked her clit and the bells danced again.

Sipping the cool wine and enjoying Marianne's skilful ministrations, I was gazing out over the endless ocean and must have dozed off. A low voice, "It's close to dinnertime, Sir", made me open my eyes. "Aah!" I stretched luxuriously and wriggled the toes of my now clean and cool feet, still resting comfortably on the brown arse in front of me. The slave was of course as I'd chained him, quiet behind the disgusting gag, the handle of the butt plug winking at me, but the cramps had set in. Small ripples ran down his flanks and beads of sweat were clinging to the fine hairs on his muscular thighs. The bell was quiet, but from beside me came a faint jingle. I took my still cool glass from the trembling back and rose. "Better change, then. You can take that tray away and help me with my bath". "Yes, Sir". Marianne followed me in, but I stopped in the door. "You may get up, now, Lua and let your boyfriend loose". "Yes, Sir. Thank You, Sir", she whispered.

When I came back after having enjoyed the soft hands caressing my body, soaping me up and drying me, the two slaves were kneeling side by side. Luan had his arms around the girl's shoulders and she was leaning heavily at him. "Tired, slaves?" He looked directly at me. "Yes, Sir. Lua is very tired". "As slaves should be. You may rest while I'm at dinner. Fetch what you like from the kitchen and stay here". "Thank you, Sir". He seemed genuinely grateful and the girl sent me a weak smile. "You can take off your hobbles and untie that. Remove the bells as well". I nodded at his blue and swollen genitals. "Thank you very much, Sir". "And you". I turned my other slavegirl. "Put on the skirt, I sent down, and take over Lua's bells. You'll be serving me at dinner". "Yes, Sir". I knew that it was an informal affair, but decided to dress a little flashily anyway. My three suitcases had been repacked neatly and Marianne quickly found the black jeans and white silk shirt I asked for and helped me dress. I left the shirt open to the waist and slipped a pair of white suede loafers on my bare feet, clipped a leash to her collar and left for the dining room.