The Island

The Island by Wild Rose

For disclaimers see part I

Part III: Coming Home

After they had left the building Kathryn removed the hobble at the younger woman's legs, but Chris still didn't have her voice back. There were so many questions she wanted to ask; so many things she wanted to say. Her inner voice, however, told her that loosing her voice was the least she should suffer because, ultimately, it all had been her fault.

They left the centre of the city on foot and after more than an hour of brisk walking they reached a tall building, six stories high with a very broad base. Of the consecutive levels each one was considerably smaller than the next. It looked like a sikkurat. How did she know what a Babylonian pyramid looked like? Chris nearly tripped over her own feet while puzzling over this mystery.

They followed a long, well-lit corridor, they came to an elevator and rode to the fourth level. The doors to the cabin opened and she saw that the impressive building was nothing more than a multi-storey car park but for vehicles Chris rather would have associated with boats than cars. They were obviously powered by solar energy, judging from the cell like panels mounted on the roofs or trunk lids.

Kathryn led them to a pitch black convertible with the elegantly curved front part much longer than the back and without solar panels. A Jaguar E. What by the Goddess was a Jaguar E? And why did this name make her think of freedom and speed and beauty? There should have been wheels, the wheels defiantly were missing.

The raven-head opened the door to the passenger side and made her sit. Before she knew it, her bound hands were secured by a chain anchored to the floor. The rings of her ankle cuffs were connected to other rings embedded down there, keeping her legs wide open.

Kathryn's right hand touched a glass-like field just to the right of the steering wheel. There was an almost imperceptible humming noise and the strange vehicle rose from the ground. They quickly left the outskirts of the city behind and travelled north for about five minutes – no, five minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

She stopped the Jaguar E at a rest stop, turned towards Chris, and touched the device at her wrist. Thinking that she would be shocked as punishment for her disobedience, the young woman closed her eyes in resignation.

“Look at me, Chris. I will never shock you without warning you first. Tell me, why did you disregard my orders? What had you so preoccupied?”

“I…, I… You wouldn't understand, Mistress.”

“Try me!”

“It was stupid, really.”

Kathryn smiled encouragingly, and the blonde thought that she would do much to see this smile again.

“I was studying all the people hurrying along and I was puzzled because no one paid any attention to me. And then it occurred to me that you already had been gone for sixteen minutes.

“I knew without the shadow of a doubt that it was sixteen minutes. Not fifteen or seventeen, but exactly sixteen. There was no clock in sight, and yet I knew. I think I started to pace because I had no idea how I knew. I'm sorry, Mistress.”

“Everything we do has consequences, Chris. You are not the only one to blame.” Kathryn answered. Her right hand rested reassuringly on the blonde's naked thigh.

“As to your time-sense; it probably is a skill left from your old life. Loosing your memories didn't make you loose your skills or your knowledge, you just don't know yet what they are. Give yourself some time and whenever something intrigues you, come and talk to me. Now, enjoy the scenery while I drive.”

“May I ask you a question, Mistress?”

“Yes, Chris.”

“Why did you take my punishment, Mistress?”

“I didn't. I'm being punished for neglecting my duty. I shouldn't have left you alone this early in your training. Well, water under the bridge. I'll teach you the basics when we're home. But to make sure that you don't get into trouble with the head of Supervisors you will be restrained and gagged from tomorrow morning until she is gone. This will be your punishment for disobedience, and it hopefully will also teach you to be more careful in the choice of your words.”

“You're in trouble with your superior because of me, aren't you? – Mistress?”

“I'm in trouble because of me; it was my mistake. The head of Supervisors is to me what I am to you. It has nothing to do with her rank. For the elders justice has been satisfied but it will only be over when my Instructor, my Mistress also decides that my debt has been paid. She probably will arrive around midday tomorrow. During her stay you will stay close to me and observe. It will teach you more about our way of life than long lectures can.”

Kathryn once again touched the glass panel and guided the vehicle back to the street. The blonde still had a lot of questions about the scars on her mistress' back and the strange things she had talked about with the Rehabilitated, but it was evident that the tall woman didn't want to be asked any more questions.

Chris turned her attention to the passing landscape but instead of enjoying the view she quickly fell asleep and began to dream.

~*~

She found herself in the Jaguar E, her Mistress was driving and looking straight ahead, not paying any attention to her. Her legs were held wide open with her feet bound to the rings embedded in the floor and additional leather bands holding her knees apart. Her hands were at her side, encased in stiff mittens and fastened to some sort of belt snugly encircling her waist.

She felt exposed and vulnerable and at the same time she was comfortable and secure in the knowledge that her Mistress would protect her, take care of her.

Suddenly there was a hand on her thigh, soft fingers first caressing the outside of her leg and then resting on her left knee, just above the strip of leather holding her.

“Please, Mistress, don't stop.” She whispered.

The hand left her knee and a finger was put in front of her lips. She tried to kiss it but was not fast enough. Her eyes followed the hand that now was shifting gears and rested on the lever, gently holding the wooden knob, almost stroking it.

She stifled a frustrated sigh and stared at the strong fingers, willing them back to her skin. She could already smell the arousal the simple gesture had elicited. Minutes passed like hours. Once again there was a change in gears.

The hand returned to the steering wheel, and green eyes widened in protest but there was nothing she could do, nothing. Her Mistress obviously didn't want her to talk or make any other noise. She had to keep still.

Finally she closed her eyes in resignation, and only two heartbeats later the hand returned, stroking the outside of her thigh with the back of its fingers, starting high at the hip and travelling slowly towards the knee. She didn't dare to open her eyes, fearing the hand would leave again.

A lone fingertip circled her kneecap and ventured to the inside of her thigh. It slowly inched upwards, only a short distance, less than the finger's length. Then she felt a short fingernail on her eager skin being dragged back to the knee. Her instinct told her to open her legs wider, to invite the hand in but she knew better. She didn't want the hand to go away.

The movement was repeated, time and again, touching more skin with each passage. A second finger was added and then a third and a fourth. She wanted to feel more of her Mistress, wanted her to press her fingers in the soft skin, leaving marks, marking her as her own but the touch stayed as light as a feather.

“Open your eyes and look, little one.”

She didn't need a second invitation to drink in the sight of these strong fingers playing with her. She was getting wetter by the minute and her heart began to beat faster. The curled fingers stopped in mid-movement during a downward stroke. The next moment cool skin was lying on her warm flesh. Her Mistress always had cold hands while driving. The hand gently squeezed her, still not having gone higher than mid-thigh.

She knew it was only a question of time but it was so hard to stay still, so hard not to urge the hand on, so hard not to demand, not to order more. But it also was deliciously right, a sweet torture she didn't deserve after her appalling behaviour the night before.

She hadn't shown patience then, had become bossy; and her still throbbing backside and the parallel marks on the inside of her thighs, starting only a couple of inches from where the hand now was resting, were the price she'd had to pay.

For a short moment she feared that this too was part of her punishment, that her Mistress was teasing her – but her Mistress wasn't this cruel, her Mistress was just and generous. Her Mistress wouldn't do this to her, right?

The hand resumed its journey and this time it touched the red welts; the cane had marked her well. The outside of the thumb retraced every single one of the five lines tenderly, reminding her of the pain and at the same time conveying that she still was loved, that she was forgiven.

Her Mistress' hand was still cold as it touched the burning skin, just resting there, barely touching, as if afraid that its full weight would hurt her. She could feel her juices dripping on the seat, and she was sure her Mistress knew too.

Then the hand moved again, for a moment the contact was lost and suddenly two fingers were thrust into her, the palm of the hand pressing against her and encasing her clit. It pulsed against the cool skin of her Mistress. The fingers began to move, not pumping in and out but wriggling inside of her, touching a special spot only her Mistress knew how to find. Every heartbeat brought her closer to an orgasm. Her vaginal muscles became painfully tight from holding herself back.

She had to wait. She knew she deserved to be left hanging, to be denied, and in the end she would thank her Mistress for making her learn this hard lesson – but it was so hard. She had been denied the night before, rightfully so. She almost had convinced herself that the hand was not an instrument of pleasure but of discipline when she heard her Mistress' voice.

“I was very proud of you, little one, of how well you took your punishment yesterday. I know it was hard and it will hurt for a few more days but I think you nonetheless deserve a treat. I want you to wait twenty-two seconds and then you will come for me. Let me hear your pleasure.”

Twenty-two seconds can be very long, especially for someone almost bursting with need. Chris had to admire her Mistress' sense of irony. She had slighted her authority with twenty-two words; and so had received the same number of strokes first with a paddle and then with a belt in retaliation. She reminded herself she had been lucky that she only to have been punished for every word and not for every letter; otherwise she wouldn't be able to sit for weeks to come. The cane marks on her thigh had been for breaking position during her punishment, not once but twice.

The fingers were still moving inside of her, having built up a rhythm. She finally gave in and felt her muscles clenching.

“Oh, Mistress, please command me to come, please, let me be yours in my pleasure.”

“Come for me, Chris, now!”

“Kathryn!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, her body convulsing with the violence of her release.

Only when she had calmed down, her Mistress removed her fingers. She brought them to her nose and gently licked one of them clean. The other one was offered to her.

“Taste yourself, baby, you're especially sweet today.”

She eagerly sucked on the finger and didn't stop at one. She thoroughly cleaned the whole hand with her lips and tongue, loosing herself in her task with the feeling of having come home after a long walk through the desert.

~*~

There was a hand on her naked shoulder, gently nudging her awake.

“That must have been some dream.”

The blonde blushed from head to toe, only too aware of the strange direction her dream had taken. She knew she was attracted to the older woman and had been almost from the beginning. She never would have judged herself as a submissive – but how could she know?

“Did I say something, Mistress?”

“You mumbled and had very relaxed smile on your face, Chris. I hated to wake you but home is just around the next corner. I thought you wanted to see where you're going to live.”

“Yes, thank you, Mistress.”

True to Kathryn's word, just around the bend a cluster of houses came in view. They were of different heights and styles, some of them visibly old, one or two others still in the process of being built. Gently rolling hills in the distance, idyllic pastures and fields made it all appear to have been taken out of a 19 th Century romantic novel.

‘Where by the Goddess did this thought come from? Was it another residue of her former life?'

Kathryn's voice brought her out of her musings.

“For the administration, this is Domain One. We call it ‘Safe Heaven'. The main stables are a couple of miles to the east; the laboratories are situated in the copse of trees just to the north.

“The hospital is at the centre of the settlement, the white stone building just coming into view. The big four storey building to your right holds the administration, the servant's quarters, the communal kitchen, and my … our quarters. From the bedroom window you can see a small part of the pastures and a few of our fields.

“I will make an announcement to our council and tell them what happened in town and what to expect as soon as we have put the car away.”

“The car, this vehicle; what does it use for fuel and why does it work so quietly? In the car park, the other ‘cars' all were equipped with solar panels, so, I think I understand how they work but yours is different.”

What Chris really wanted to ask was about what would happen when the head of Supervisors arrived and how she could be so sure that the woman would be there so quickly, and what she, Chris, could do to make it up to her for getting her into trouble.

No matter how her mistress phrased it, it had been her fault, the blonde thought. Had she simply obeyed her, nothing would have happened, and she wouldn't now have a knot in her stomach the size of a big fist.

“It's a prototype of a new line of hover cars. We have about 300 days of sunshine a year but the energy storage capacity of the solar cars is not what it should be. During the rare periods of bad weather they tend to stop working after a couple of days. This one works with energy created by a hydrogen reactor.”

“But hydrogen gas is highly unstable. We could as well be sitting on a bomb.”

Kathryn smiled and the blonde insecurely smiled back, only now remembering that she once again had forgotten to address her properly.

“Mistress.” She quickly added.

Kathryn smile broadened. “Our scientists found a way to stabilise it. They gladly will explain it to you in a few days when everything has returned to normal.”

“Can't you explain it to me, Mistress?”

She knew she was flirting, in an awkward kind of way but she just loved to hear the older woman's voice.

“I could,” the raven-head answered while stopping the car in a roomy garage where about a dozen other vehicles were parked, “but we don't have the time now. There's a lot to do to prepare for her visit; a lot of paperwork to attend to. Let's go, Chris.”

~*~

A few hours later, Chris looked up from the notepad her mistress had given to her with orders to use it as a diary of sorts. She had told the blonde that she wanted her to write in it for at least half an hour every evening, longer if she found she had more to say.

“I want you to be able to check on how far you have come some time down the road. You will have an account of the re-discovery of your skills, of your actions, and foremost your feelings.

“It will make it possible for you to evaluate your life here on an on-going basis, and it can be an outlet for your dreams or your fears. This diary – or whatever you want to call it – will be private, for your eyes only. I will not read it without your consent or shall anyone else.”

These were the first words she had written down.

She had proceeded to give an account of what had happened to her since she first had regained consciousness four days ago. Re-reading the entry she found it amiss. Yes, it was what had happened but, the way things were now, it didn't mean anything.

That's when she looked up and glanced at Kathryn who was staring into the blazing flames of the fire place, obviously lost in her own thoughts. She took the chance to study the tall woman, taking in a lot of details she hadn't had the chance to register earlier this day.

Chris knew she herself was almost 5' 11'' but, when standing, the other woman topped her by at least three to three and a half inches. Her black hair almost glowed in the flickering flames of the fire place. There was not an ounce of fat on her body. When she moved the play of muscles was visible under her skin.

At the moment she was sitting in a comfortable leather armchair, her long legs, with ankles crossed, were stretched out in front of her and her ankles crossed. Even motionless, the strength she had shown when easily overpowering Chris and later helping her walk after the whippings was still evident.

Her mistress was the picture of relaxed confidence but something in her demeanour told Chris otherwise. She was sure she discerned some kind of tension, a tension not emanating from the fact that she was as naked as herself.

The blonde now knew that until Kathryn was not pardoned by her own mistress, she would have to remain naked; and it was only due to the special dispensation by the elder that she had been allowed to carry her clothes on her body and not in her hands when leaving the headquarters. But now, in the privacy of her rooms, the dispensation didn't apply. it was not there were no more excuses – and Chris really did enjoy the view.

Earlier, Kathryn had made her declaration to the so-called council, a group of twelve women in varying ages. Her announcement had been met with a few groans, some rolling of the eyes, and a lot of sighs.

Afterwards, they had retired to her mistress' study. The tall black haired woman had rummaged in the drawers of her desk and then come up with a rather small book. She had told her to read it carefully, and that it was something she had found in the attic of the house a few years ago.

According to Kathryn, it was the best way to learn everything necessary about her new way of life – but she didn't tell her that this document also contained a lot of detailed information an Initiate shouldn't have been privy to, at least not during the first few weeks of her stay on the Island. The tall woman was taking a risk by giving her charge the book, but from the first moment on, the young blonde had struck an almost forgotten cord in her heart.

While her mistress…, while Kathryn was tending to her paperwork, Chris sat in the far left corner of the office and read. It was a hand-written script, not really a book but rather a thick leaflet. It consisted of a somewhat boring sequence of rules and punishments, rules and punishments, mixed in were personal statements and reflections by the anonymous writer. As she turned page after page, slowly she began to understand.

This was not a question of crime and punishment. It was not a question of irrational rules and equally irrational retaliations. It was more than that, far more.

Under the surface of obedience and domination lay, as incongruous as it might sound, the potential for real freedom, inner freedom. The hierarchical society, the strange mix of adherence to traditions and the pursuit of innovative technologies, the power a Mistress had over her charges. That all began to make sense.

So much of what was possible depended on the Instructor, the mistress. Yes, she had to follow the rules herself but to her authority there was no limit, short of killing or maiming those in her care. Only the council of elders, consisting of the Rehabilitated and the Repentant, could interfere with a mistress and her charge, and they rarely did.

It should have been a very frightening thought but looking at the beautiful woman in front of her, she suddenly understood that she had been very lucky. Mistress Kathryn would teach her and she would punish her if need be but above all she would protect her. She would help her find her place in this strange new world, and she was ready to bet that Kathryn never would abuse her power.

~*~

At the same time, back in town, elder Ika was entering her living room and found Ani kneeling on the hard ground and waiting for her.

“Are you ready for the rest of your punishment, my dear?”

“Yes, Mistress… I know that I don't have the right to ask for any favours but please don't use the cat, please.”

“No, Ani, I won't.”

Ika answered and patted her on the head while making her way to the couch at the other side of the room, her mind flashing back to the solid caning she had administered only a few hours ago.

As a Rehabilitated it was her duty to keep her charge in line. Ani was not only her right hand in public; she also was her lover of over thirty years. She had been a newly minted Supervisor and Ani her first Initiate. For her it had been love at first sight.

When their time had been up, eight years ago, Ani had opted to stay on as a Repentant because she was convinced that her debt to society was not yet repaid. Ika didn't want to leave her and she wanted to give something back to this community that had given her a chance at a new, happier life. So she had joined the Rehabilitated.

They often had spoken about the nature of their relationship, and so she knew that from time to time her beloved needed a lesson in humility but that she also needed to physically feel the consequences of her behaviour.

That's why she had ordered her to lean over the back of the couch and count. She hadn't told her how many strokes she would receive, and before she started with the cane, she had placed a dozen solid licks with her bare hand on the firm buttocks in front of her.

‘Wrinkle butt', that young thing really hadn't had a clue. Her love was so beautiful with her arse raised high and her long, still mostly brown hair spilling onto the seat of the couch, exposing the crescent shaped scar at the back of her skull that was so extremely sensitive to the touch.

Ika had started out slowly, not leaving a single mark with the first ten strokes, thus prolonging the warm-up. Ani had relaxed into the beating; the silver haired woman could see the evidence of her arousal. The next set of ten had been given with much more force and in a quick cadence, leaving her barely enough time to count them. She gently stroked the reddened globes with her fingers before giving her five more. In contrast to the others these would mark her for at least a couple of days.

Oh, yes, Ani had been so beautiful during her punishment, especially when she had knelt in front of her, thanking her with tears glittering in the corner of her eyes, kissing the cane and Ika's hands with abandon.

Yes, she had needed it that time but she also had deserved a treat, so instead of the traditional kiss on the forehead she had kissed the tears away and allowed herself and her servant a rare hour of indulgence.

No, it was not the time to dwell on that particular memory. After all she still had the rest of her lover's punishment to mete out.

She sat down and smiled at the kneeling woman who hadn't yet moved a muscle.

“Turn around, baby. Your transgression wasn't this severe. I know you hate the cat with the same passion as Kathryn does the single tail whip. This time it will not involve any more beatings but I'm sure you won't like it. You called this newbie a bitch, and I think it is time for you to find out how it feels to be treated as such. Two days should be enough to teach you your lesson.”

“But Mistress, how…”

“Dogs don't speak, Ani, they bark but I don't want you to bark. I want you to be a good, obedient dog. You will sit at my feet during the day and walk on your hands and knees right at my heel. You will bring me the leash before we leave the house and you will hold your head high because you are a proud little dog. Do you understand?”

Instead of answering with words, the kneeling woman got on her hand and knees and crawled over to her Mistress, rubbing her head against the seated woman's thigh and tentatively licking her hands.

~*~

The big grandfather clock in the far corner of Kathryn's living room signalled half past eleven . The two deep, resounding chimes brought the tall woman out of her musings. It was time to call it a night and go to bed – but first there was Chris' maintenance spanking to take care of.

The blonde was still writing in her journal. Earlier Kathryn had felt the green eyes on her but then their attention had been returned to the pieces of paper in front of her.

She knew she wanted to give the blonde a very personal over her knees spanking but she also knew that instead she would adhere to the rules, remembering the words of her teacher when she had been trained to become a Supervisor and Instructor.

‘Maintain a certain distance to the Initiate during the first week. Establish a routine she can rely on. Let her know that she is safe with you.'

The blonde looked up from re-reading her last entry and smiled at her mistress.

“Chris, I want you to go and fetch the chair over there. Bring it in front of the fire place, please.”

She did as she had been told and carefully positioned the sturdy chair in the empty space between the mantle and Kathryn's armchair. Without being told to, she bent over the back, at this moment very acutely aware of her nakedness and the sting of the lash marks from this morning. Kathryn didn't comment on her initiative but she thought she caught the glimpse of a smile when the other woman stood and went to the closet to retrieve a paddle.

Her mistress had shown her the wooden closet's contents earlier this evening. There were canes and paddles, some made of wood, some with an additional leather cover. She had shown her a cat-of-nine-tails, another whip with five thongs, and the single-tail-whip. They hung next to an assortment of straps in varying width and thickness. One of the drawers revealed ball gags and ring gags and phallus-like inflatable gags; another held butt plugs, dildos, and some things Kathryn had called Ben-Wa balls; the third and biggest drawer was filled with chains, thin leather straps, manacles and other things used to hold someone in bondage restraints. She had also told her that its contents and set-up was identical in every home of a Supervisor or Elder on the Island .

Chris' eyes followed the raven-heads movements. The thickness and shear mass of her hair completely hid the scars on her back but they were not long enough to also conceal the welts the cane had raised on her skin. If one looked really closely, one could count the forty marks evenly spaced between the small of her back and mid-thigh. Sitting and even walking must hurt a lot, if she compared it to the whipping she herself had received but the taller woman didn't show any pain or discomfort.

This, however, didn't keep the blonde from fantasizing on how it would feel to caress the reddened skin and kiss every single one of the forty marks and make the woman moan in delight and anticipation of more to come soon.

Her day-dreaming was cut short by a hand landing hard on her right arse cheek. She knew she would receive twenty strokes with the bare hand and ten with a leather paddle, at least at the beginning of her initiation to slowly get used to it; later on the implements of discipline and the number of strokes would be subject to considerable change.

Kathryn had also told her that she wasn't, yet, expected to count the strokes but should instead focus on keeping her legs from kicking and learn how to stay absolutely still during the spanking.

It felt right to feel the woman's hand on her backside, to hear the slap when skin met skin. Chris began to relax and wriggled a little bit to present a more enticing target.

The spanking had stopped but this couldn't have been twenty swats.

Without warning, leather, stretched over a core of hardwood, hit her with force and she suddenly had a hard time not to break her position.

The paddle had hit dead centre, just on the fleshiest part of her buttocks but the pain quickly spread, enveloping her whole ass. She was better prepared for the next blow, aimed for the same spot. Number three followed quickly, and four and five also were right on target.

The next one hit her right cheek with enough force to feel it right to the bone, with another one right on its heels. She had hooked her feet behind the legs of the chair she was leaning over to keep from kicking out. It was so hard to stay still and take her spanking without being bound; so hard, and yet, it felt so right.

Her mistress had asked her earlier, when she had given her a tour of the house and her quarters and they had ended up at the wooden closet in the corner that looked just like the one in the elder's room. Her mistress had asked her then if she would need to be restrained during the maintenance spanking or if she wanted to try and take it freely.

So, she put a little more effort in staying as immobile as possible. The following two strokes targeted her left buttock, and the last one, she was sure once again would be right on her sit-spot. She mentally prepared herself for a stinging blow but what came was nothing more but a gentle tap on her right cheek.

Kathryn's hand furtively brushed over her thigh and the spanking was resumed after a short respite her mistress had used to put the paddle away. This time the tall woman didn't play but placed hard, even slaps on her charge's then well reddened behind. These hard rhythmic swats surprisingly allowed her to relax.

So, she was surprised when her mistress stepped away from her and ordered her to rise.

“And now, Chris, I want you to kneel down, starting with your right knee. Today, I put the paddle away but tomorrow or any other day when we end with the paddle you will first kiss the instrument of your discipline and then the hands that wielded it. Then you'll ask to be allowed to put it away, return to me, thank me and kiss my hands for a second time.”

The blonde did as she had been told, lingering a bit longer than probably was appropriate over the soft skin and strong digits. Her mistress bent down and kissed her on the forehead, thus finishing the little ceremony.

They then retired to the bedroom as the clock announced midnight . There was an air mattress at the foot of the bed with a couple of blankets on top. That's were Chris would be sleeping the first seven nights, only then would she have her own bed. She knew it was to teach her the proper sense of hierarchy; and she was quietly thankful for the chance to observe her mistress in sleep.

The tall woman slipped between her sheets and turned out the light.

“I'm proud of you, Chris. You held yourself very well … like a pro. Good night, Chris.”

“Thank you, Mistress. Sleep well, Mistress Kathryn.”

The last word was barely above a whisper because the blonde knew by now very well that she was not supposed to use her mistress given name; it was a punishable offence. The tall woman in the bed pretended not to have heard it.

TO BE CONTINUED