Treasure Island

Part six

I had a vague plan of settling somewhere in Europe and kept looking for a house, but didn't really feel at home anywhere until I arrived in France. The language, the people, the culture, the towns and landscapes, and not least the food, suited me perfectly, so I intensified my search for a suitable dwelling and looked at quite a few on my tour around the country. Several of them were pleasant enough, but didn't send out the right vibrations, so to speak. Not until I arrived at the region around Perpignan, just north of the Spanish border. It was as if the whole area vibrated and, true enough, the first agent, I visited, had exactly what I'd been looking for. The estate covered the area between two short promontories from the top of the coastal cliffs to the Mediterranean Sea 300 feet below. The house was in one storey, with a spacious living and dining area opening to a loggia with swimming-pool, sheltered by two side-wings with master bedroom and study and two spare bedrooms. There were no neighbours within sight, only the glittering blue sea and a rock garden between house and shore. Winding steps led down to a short jetty and a boathouse. It cost a fortune, but I had plenty of those, so when the estate agent had shown me around, I was hooked. It was in need of some redecoration and I wanted a few changes made, but that didn't bother me. I still wanted to finish my Tour d'Europe with Spain and Portugal. Six weeks later I returned to find everything perfect and the furniture I'd ordered already delivered, so I settled down to rest and enjoy myself after all the travelling. A cleaning service took care of house and grounds for me.

I'm not much of a cook, but at least able to fix my own breakfast and there were no lack of excellent restaurants or shops selling all kinds of delicacies in the charming old sea ports of Port Vendre and Collioure just a few miles up the coast or the larger city a bit further inland. Most days I lazed around in the morning, took a dip in the pool and went to town for lunch and to shop for dinner, returning to spend the rest of the day reading or watching TV. It may appear to be a pretty lonely existence, but I didn't feel lonely. Didn't even try making friends with people I met around in cafés or restaurants, that could wait until I, hopefully, met the right girl. And I would, of that I was sure, and down here. Those vibrations had to be there for a reason.

As usual there was no lack of dating offers. I could hardly show my face in town before pretty girls were making passes at me. Perhaps because of the Ferrari I'd bought. None of the offers came from Miss Right, though. OK, I did bring home a couple, or was it three, to see my etchings or whatever, but made it clear that this was a one-night stand, or rather one weekend. As usual that didn't scare the girls away, they probably thought that once I'd sampled what they had to offer, I'd be hooked. Ah, well, sorry ladies, no vibrations. I carefully steered clear of the local girls, didn't want them beleaguering my house, and the supply of foreign tourists was bountiful.

One morning, a couple of months after I'd moved in, I was lingering over a cafè au lait at an outdoor café in Perpignan, idly watching the passers by, when I sensed someone sitting down at my table. Before I'd turned to look, a quiet voice greeted me. "Bonjour, Mâitre". To say that I was shocked would be an understatement, I almost had a heart attack. There she was, my little slavegirl, smiling sweetly to me. When I'd regained my senses and ordered her a coffee, she told that her parents lived in a small village about fifty miles away, on the lower slopes of the Pyrenees. She'd been down for the weekend and was on her way back to Montpellier where she was studying at the university. The only public transport available at the remote village was the school bus, so she had to leave early in the morning and wait in town until mid afternoon before catching a train. Boy, was I in luck? I didn't hesitate to offer her lunch, mentioning the best restaurant in town. "Thank you, I'd like that very much, I've never been able to afford that, but I can't go, Mâitre, not dressed like this!" I honestly didn't see why not, the hip-hugging white shorts and clinging sleeveless t-shirt, was pure eye-candy to me. I'd already noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra and still had rings in her nipples. "Please let me take care of the dressing problem for you". "Mais non, Mâitre. You've already given me so much, my freedom and all that money". "Rubbish! I can afford it, and please stop calling me Master". She looked shyly at me. "But I don't know your name!" Wham! "Ah, no I suppose not. I'm John". "Pleased to meet you, John". She leaned over to give me a light kiss on the mouth. "And I you, Mademoiselle Marianne, very much so".

I did manage to persuade her to visit the most fashionable ladies' shop in town and let me buy her a ravishing white summer dress. She'd gone to the fitting room to try it on when I heard her calling and went behind the curtain, expecting to find her dressed. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw her naked from the waist up. Not that I didn't know her body so well, but she seemed even more beautiful than I remembered. "I can't wear this without a bra. Could you please bring my backpack?" She smiled sweetly. 'The little tease, she'd done that deliberately! Could just as well have asked through the curtain'. I just nodded mutely and went to fetch the thing. When I returned, not with the backpack, but a selection of frilly bras and panties, she was stark naked, with her back to me, and my heart jumped again, but this time down to my knees. Her pert little bottom sported a tight pattern of stripes. Some of them old and faded, they might even have been painted by my hand, but others were clearly fresh. 'Shit! So she's found a new master. Ah, well, John, at least you can enjoy her company today'.

When we were bowed out of the shop, she wore not only the dress, but new underwear as well, and even a pair of very elegant high heeled sandals. Only one thing was lacking, so I steered her to a jeweller's shop and found a heavy gold chain to adorn her slender neck. She protested feebly that it was far too much, but changed her mind when she saw how beautiful it looked and gave me a lingering kiss, whispering, "Now I'm a collared slave again", when she broke it. 'True, but, alas, not my slave', I thought. At lunch I learned that she was sharing a small students' flat with two roommates, scraping by on the money I'd sent her. She studied modern languages and hoped to become an English teacher. 'At least she's not living with her master', I thought, 'Maybe there's still hope'. I drove her to the train in the Ferrari I mostly used when going to town, because it was easier to park than the large Bentley or the Range Rover I'd bought for trips to the mountains. She kissed me again when we said goodbye, this time hugging me tight, and accepted an invitation for lunch at my house next Friday, when she was coming down for some sort of family affair and had to wait until evening for the bus.

I spent the next four days hovering between cloud nine and a deep depression. I mean, here I'd met the girl of my dreams again, against all odds, only to learn that she was seeing someone else. Anyway, she was coming back and to my house, so at least I had a sporting chance to win her back. When Friday finally dawned I was up early to make sure that everything was ready and get to town in time to buy fresh bread and salad to accompany the oysters, caviar and foie gras we were having before the cheeses and the pêches de vignes in champagne. I took the Bentley and cursed myself when arriving at the train station to find that there was nowhere to park the monster. When I at last found a space, the train was already at the platform and people were milling around. My petite guest was difficult to find in the crowd and when I at length spotted her, I almost wished I hadn't. She was hugging a tall, dark haired young man affectionately, resting her head on his chest and, just as I approached, rose on tiptoe to give him a lingering kiss on the mouth. I stopped abruptly, didn't want to get involved, but she broke the kiss, looked over the boy's shoulder and waved to me. He turned and I almost had another heart attack. It was Luan! A moment later Lua came running from the direction of the restrooms.

The couple seemed happy to meet me, but were shy and reluctant, hadn't expected it, at least not just now. Marianne explained that they were the roommates, she'd mentioned, studying at the same university, medicine both of them. "We became so close when at the island that we couldn't bear parting when leaving it. Actually we planned moving here while we were still your slaves, got enrolled by way of the net and used its facilities to prepare our studies". She looked teasingly at me. "We hadn't much else to do, when our master abandoned us like that". "And he's sorry, very sorry. He missed you". "Why didn't you come back, then? We thought you'd grown tired of us". I shook no. "On the contrary, but I couldn't face leaving you for a second time, and for good". A dazzling smile and a hard kiss was her answer. Lua's kiss was softer, but just as hot, and her eyes were teary when she whispered: "We missed you too, Master". "That I doubt". I grinned, but Luan nodded gravely and nearly crushed my hand when he shook it.

The two of them accompanied her because Marianne's parents by now considered them part of the family. They'd planned to disappear in the crowd when she went to meet me and spend the day in town until it was time for boarding the bus, actually still insisted on doing so. I'd have none of that. "You eat lunch with us". They reluctantly accepted and we found my car, which now turned out to be a lucky choice. Stopping on the way to buy bread and some more solid food, pies and patês, for the extra guests, Luan not least, we drove to my new home.

The three of them were overawed by the house and grounds, perhaps it hadn't occurred to them how wealthy I was. Down at the jetty Luan, who like his girlfriend was dressed in t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, looked longingly at the clear blue water. "Can you dive from here, Sir?" "John, please. Yes it's safe enough, about three yards to the bottom". He hesitated. "Can I…". "Be my guest. There are swimming trunks and towels in the boathouse". He grinned to Lua and without further ado kicked off his sandals, hauled off his shirt and dropped shorts and briefs, then dived into the water and began swimming towards a large rock, which was breaking the surface some hundred yards away. The brown beauty looked at me. "Can I, Master?" "John, and of course. There are some bikinis too". Like her boyfriend she apparently saw no reason to bother with modesty, just shed her few garments and dived in. I turned to the other girl, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head. "I've better get lunch on the table". "You're my guest", I protested. "Votre esclave, Mâitre". She looked gravely at me. "Not any longer". "I, we owe you nine months of slavery, at the very least, Master, perhaps our lives. You didn't see the other slaves on the ship when we were returning to be released. We did. It was horrible!" With that she turned to run up the steps towards the house. 'And what about your new master?', I thought sadly, remembering her stripes, then sat down to watch the two human dolphins playing. Both of them had kept their nipple rings, like Marianne, and I thought to have seen a glimpse of Lua's nether rings as well.

I stood ready with bath-towels when they twenty minutes later climbed up the steps from the sea and wrapped one of them around Lua's athletic body, but not before I'd seen her heavily striped arse. 'Well, at least I can guess who made those', I thought and it was confirmed when the boy turned his welted backside to me. They were happy as children and thanked me profusely. Not that they didn't go to the beach up north whenever possible, but it was a low and sandy coast, with no chance of practising the diving and deep water swimming they were used to back home. Marianne had laid the table on the loggia and I noticed that she was barefoot. So apparently did Lua and she kicked off her own sandals again, nudging her boyfriend to do the same. 'Well, well, what's this?' I thought, but didn't comment.

Lunch was a jolly affair, almost like the good old days on the island. We caught up with our lives and my guests listened wide-eyed to my story, though I omitted the more saucy details. "And you are still happy, and still playing?" I asked the couple. Luan grinned. "A lot, tiring me out they are". "They?" I looked from one girl to the next. "Sure. I have a tired arm most nights, or a very sore arse and back. It's hard to play master as well as whipping boy for two girls". "I see. So you haven't found another master?" I looked searchingly at Marianne. She lowered her eyes demurely. "I have only one master, Sir". "Luan?" She mutely shook no. "We are not master or mistresses and slaves. Just helping friends in need". Lua looked gravely at me. "But we miss a real master".

I needed time to digest this and changed the subject, asking if they were going hiking after the event, since they'd brought sleeping bags with them. Marianne shook her head. "My parents' house isn't big enough, so we younger guests will have to sleep in the barn". I grabbed the opportunity. "Can't be very comfortable. Why don't you come back here. I've got plenty of room and how far away is it, fifty miles?" "But we can't, Sir. We don't have a car". "I have. Three to be exact". "But your cars are far to fine for us". "Rubbish, but you can use the one you haven't seen. It's a Land Rover, very modest. You can drive, I take it?" I looked at Luan, who nodded. "That's settled then, you stay here". I held up a hand to quell their protests. "What is it exactly you're attending?" "Dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow". "Free after lunch then?" They nodded. "Good, how about staying on here until Sunday night then? You can relax, enjoy the pool or the sea".

They insisted on clearing away after lunch and then stacked their gear in the spare bedrooms, changing into something a bit more formal. Marianne put on not only the dress and sandals I'd bought her, but the necklace as well. They expected to be back fairly late that night, so I gave them a key to the side entrance and saw them off, then flopped down on a couch beside the pool, contemplating the day's turn of events. What had they been trying to tell me? Did they offer themselves as slaves to me? And if so, did I want them back? Of course I did! All my dreams and hopes fulfilled. And yet. Why did they do it? Because they felt duty bound to repay what they thought they owed me? In that case, no way, old boy! What you want is friends, under no circumstances someone you've bought. But Lua had said that they missed a master and that's hard to find, at least a master you can trust. Where did that leave me? Between the devil and the deep blue sea. My thoughts kept racing round in circles until I at last forced myself to eat some scraps left over from lunch, ah well, a dozen oysters, and sit down to watch a film before dragging my weary body to bed.

I didn't hear my guests return, but became aware of it first thing in the morning, when the curtains were drawn aside to let in the sunlight and I opened my eyes to see a naked girl kneeling beside the bed, offering a cup. "Bonne matin, Mâitre". "John", I croaked, staring at her ringed nipples and managed to sit up, reaching for the tea. She lowered her eyes and I followed the glance. I slept naked and the sheet had dropped away, revealing a very erect cock. 'Shit! What a way to greet a valued guest!' I hastily covered myself and she looked up again. 'What was that in her eyes, hunger, disappointment, for what, about what? Nope, she couldn't…' "Bonne matin, Mademoiselle Marianne, et merci". She inclined her head gracefully, "Breakfast is ready…John". The chain was still around her neck. 'Signals, signals!' "Thank you". She rose and I saw that her pubes were still shaven clean, but the rings had gone.

When I'd taken care of some urgent needs, and yes, I beat off in the bathroom, I donned a robe and went out to the terrace. I needn't have bothered, Lua and Luan were as naked as my third guest, all of them respectfully waiting beside the well laid table until I sat down. The air was so thick with tension that you could have cut it with a knife and it finally occurred to me that my former slaves were as bewildered by the way I behaved as I was with them, but this wasn't the moment to begin what could be a long discussion about what each of us wanted from the others. I stuck stubbornly to small talk until it was time for them to get dressed and leave for the family lunch.

They came back in late afternoon and we relaxed together by the pool, naked and tense, but still avoiding the subject foremost in our minds, until it was time for dinner. As my guests had eaten a sumptuous lunch, the meal was once again a selection of delicacies, accompanied by champagne. I'd put on jeans and a shirt, but they stuck to shorts and bare feet, so I had two very different, but equally tempting, sets of bare and ringed tits bouncing in front of my eyes. More signals, but by now I was determined to wait until they came clear with what they wanted. Only they didn't, neither at dinner, nor when we sat down for coffee and more small talk. When I finally with a yawn indicated that it was time for bed, it seemed as if I had to make the first move. 'So be it', I thought, 'Tomorrow, then'.

But I was in for a surprise. We bid each other good night, the girls kissing me very tenderly, and I went to the bathroom. When I returned, I wasn't alone in my bedroom, three bare arses were winking at me. My guests were kneeling side by side on the edge of the bed, almost like when I last saw them before leaving the island, only not tied but grabbing their ankles firmly. I stood frozen in shock for long moments, staring from one set of tempting globes to the next, then noticed a heavy belt on the floor beside them. 'So be it', I thought again, 'Action now, talk tomorrow'. Without a word I grabbed the belt and lashed savagely at the arse in the middle, Luan's. He neither moved, nor cried out, just breathed out heavily. 'With relief?' I hit his girlfriend next and then the smallest of the three targets. The petite girl sighed deeply, as if she thought: 'At last!' Thirty lashes later, equally shared between them, I dropped the belt. "Luan, open up!" He did go rigid for a second, but then relaxed again and let go of his ankles to grab the striped globes. The familiar hole winked at me, but he was in for another surprise when I, instead of plunging in, went behind the brown girl and eased my tool into her love tunnel as gently as I could. She yelped in surprise, but gathered her wits and pushed back to meet me. I gave her ten deep thrusts and felt her juices gushing about me, then with an effort withdrew and went to the chest of drawers where I kept my toys. Retrieving three pairs of handcuffs I returned to lock my former, or were they?, slaves' hands behind their backs, then slapped Luan's burning rump. "Your turn, boy!" He stumbled to his feet, sent me a look full of surprise and gratitude, then lined up to the hole I'd just made wet. "Uh, hu, not that one". I grabbed his erect tool to guide it into the upper tunnel and slapped his arse again to make him bury it. The nailed girl cried out in pain, he was as big as ever, but was soon moaning with lust.

I watched the action for a moment, then turned to the third girl. "Pink or brown hole?" I asked. "Brown, Master. It's been so long, I can't take Luan there". "As you wish". Once again I went in slowly and pumped gently, listening to her rapid breathing. A grunt beside me made me turn to watch the tall boy speed up the thrusts. His eyes met mine for a moment before he sank in to the hilt, shouting in triumph. I was on the edge already and seconds later followed his example, then collapsed in an armchair, staring at the stream of sperm slowly seeping out of the gaping hole I'd just left. Marianne was shivering on the bed and Luan extricated himself. "Here, boy!" I caught his attention, pointing to my soiled tool. Once again he tensed, but then sank to his knees with a slight nod, engulfing the disgusting thing. When I was let out again, clean and shining with his saliva, I pointed at the two violated arses, and, nodding again, he shuffled on his knees to continue the task until all traces of what we'd been depositing in them had disappeared and he sat back on his heels, looking very snug.

"Can a tired host be allowed to go to bed now or does he have to serve his guests further?" Luan's jaw dropped and his girlfriend whipped her head round to stare uncomprehendingly at me. "We, eh, no Sir", the boy stammered. "Good night, then". I made no move to release their wrists, just looked on impassively while they awkwardly got to their feet. Still looking stunned, the brown couple turned to leave, but Marianne hesitated. "Can I stay, Sir?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why, are you afraid of sleeping alone in a strange house?" She looked away. "No, Sir". "Then why?" "Because I love you, John". 'She said it! She fucking said it!' There was suddenly a lump in my throat and I had to swallow repeatedly before managing to croak: "Well, I mean, I, eh, if that's so, you may stay". "Thank you, Master", she whispered. The two lovers were looking on, smiling tenderly, and Lua blew me a kiss before they slipped away, silently closing the door.

"Marianne!" I rose to embrace her and felt the slender body trembling in my arms. "Make love to me, John, please". I turned her gently, freed her wrists and reached around to cup her breasts. "How?" Without answering she slipped out of my embrace, lay down and wriggled into the centre of my king size bed, spread her arms wide, reaching for the bedposts and raised her legs above her head. The message seemed clear. "You want to be tied?" "I want you to keep me, John, never let me go". Well, if that wasn't an offer one could never refuse, I didn't know what was, so I did my level best to accommodate the lady, even had to retie her a couple of times, when she claimed that it wasn't hard enough. Finally she was helplessly spread in front of me, rope cutting deeply into her skin and her holes winking at me. I knelt and prepared to enter the creaming love tunnel. "Whip me, John, please! Whip my arse, my feet". "Do you really want that?" "Please!" What could I do, other than find a crop and let it dance a merry reel on her lovely bottom. She was moaning and writhing in her bonds, tears running down her face. "You are crying!" "From happiness, John. Please whip my feet now and then take me, hard". And then we were back at the island, me grabbing her burning feet, hammering into first her pussy, then her arse, then back again, and she screaming out her lust.

That was fifteen years ago, yet just sitting here, writing about that first wild night we spent together in our house, makes my cock hard as a rock, even if the taste of my beloved is still lingering on my tongue after last night. Ah, well, time to end this story. We…

"Papa, ecoute Papa". A clear voice interrupts my train of thought. "Pas á present, j'ai un essai á finir". "Mais Papa!" With a resigned sigh I swivel round to face a slim boy, whose handsome face is framed by an unruly mop of blonde curls. "Que'est-ce tu veux? Où est ton maman?" He looks at me as if I were an imbecile. "Dans le patio, enchainé et baillonné". "Ah, oui". I'd completely forgotten that she'd kept interrupting my reading the newspapers at breakfast, until I at last, exasperated, chained her spreadeagle on the tiles beside our pool and stuffed a ball-gag into her jabbering mouth. I looked at my watch, shit, that was three hours ago, she'd be furious by now, better free her. "Dad!" The insisting voice was back, effortless changing languages. "Can John eat with us and sleep over tonight?" "I guess so, if you mother doesn't mind, but why?" "His dad put Lua in chains this morning, won't let her out until tomorrow, so she can't cook". "Why did he do that, has she been naughty?" "Nah, just fooling around, you know. It's so boring and they get all lovesick. That's why John wants to come up here". His tone of voice revealed a twelve year old boy's natural disgust when parents are behaving like children. "I see, but what about Kira and Kiri, then?" "They're down at Martin and Martine's, gonna stay the night". "Well, OK, then, but no fights with your sister". He sighed again. "Can't you remember a thing, Dad? She's staying with that silly Michelle". I really must be growing old. "Ah, yes, of course. Well, go tell John, but wait half an hour before coming up. I've better see to your mother, get her in a better mood". "OK, merci Papa". He gives me a big grin and a kiss before running off, calling over his shoulder: "You get her in a real good mood, Dad. I'm gonna ask her to make something special for lunch and dinner". Smiling, I turn to the window to watch the lithe sun-tanned body jumping down the flight of garden steps, bare feet slapping on the smooth slates, as usual dressed in just a pair of faded cut-offs. Ah, well, better get my tongue ready. A bit of oral and a couple of orgasms before I release her should do the job, but perhaps I ought not to make her too happy. I know what those two brats will be begging for. Burgers for lunch and pizza for dinner instead of real food!

Yes, we're still here, all four of us. After the happy reunion I stopped worrying about my former slaves and their motives for coming back. Love it was, not gratitude, love and lust. They moved in with me, staying over in their flat at the university only if necessary, and we spent the next years living out our fantasies, cultivating our friendship, and cementing our love. Eventually we grew up. Our students took their degrees. Lua and Luan specialised as ophthalmologists, and, with a little bit of help from a friend, opened their own clinic. Marianne is a lecturer at the university. I'm still unemployed, unless you name nurturing your investments work, or taking care of five very lively kids. I don't gamble anymore, the hunches left me after I'd won the greatest price of all, but it doesn't really matter, I've got money enough to last several lifetimes.

Marianne and I were married on her twentyfith birthday. Actually we had a double wedding, an enormous party in her parents' village and then went off on a honeymoon, to Tahiti of course, where we had the next party. After that Luan took us to a tiny uninhabited atoll, where we the next three months relived our time on Treasure Island, a last fling before settling down to married life. Well, not quite. We couldn't imagine life without each other, the four of us, so the boathouse was enlarged and rebuilt to become Lua and Luan's new home. A year after the wedding both girls gave birth to a son. John, named after me, and our Lolo, Lualuan actually, inseparable friends from the cradle. Two years later Lua had twins, a boy and a girl, and we had our little wildcat, Francine.

With the kids around we had to change our lifestyle, to some extent at least. We're pretty free about sex and nudity on our own grounds is not unknown, but actual coupling or whatever, is kept strictly private. The kids respect that, even to the point of keeping away if we want to do something nasty outdoors. We haven't given up whips and chains, but limit ourselves to a handspanking or paddling, which doesn't leave marks, or a nice bastinado, where you don't see them. We keep it to the bedroom and the girls are gagged, well, Luan too, if it's his turn. I'm not quite sure, but I don't think the kids suspect anything. What they do see, however, is their mums in chains. We discussed it at length before they came about and agreed that it wouldn't hurt them. It was strange, but very beautiful to watch my naked wife, ankles shackled to the legs of her chair, cradling our baby son at her breast with her cuffed hands. When they were very young, I don't think they thought it odd if their mother had to shuffle slowly around in a short hobble or keep her cuffed hands behind her back or spend the day in a tight rope harness. Later on the boys did ask why and we explained that it was a special way of showing love, to give oneself up to your beloved. We don't do it when they have friends visiting and I don't think it's something they discuss with them.

We do get a chance of returning to the good old slavery game a couple of times a year, when we pack off the kids for a holiday with their grandparents. They spend a fortnight every winter with Marianne's people, skiing in the mountains, and a month in summer at Tahiti. Believe me, we enjoy it just as much as they do, me not least, when I once again can have my three slaves trussed up, arses high or feet up, and work them over with the whip before hammering all five of their holes.

Well, that's my story about a lucky gambler. Hope you enjoyed it, and remember now, don't gamble with the Treasure Island Company.