Slave Island

                            ISLE D’ESCLAVES

 

 

Day Two – the fun begins.

 

LAUREN MICHELLE stepped from her chalet into the warmth of the Pacific sunshine and walked slowly across the compound to the stage set back from the dazzling blue pool. Lauren had been meticulous about appearing “comme il faut”, as the French would have it, for her first domination scene on the lovely Isle d’Esclaves.

 

On her head was a jaunty black leather stetson, to cover her burnished blonde hair and protect her beautiful complexion from the rigors of the harsh sun.

 

She had chosen a stunning black leather quarter-cup bra to hoist her superb 36-inch, D-cup breasts into even greater uplift, although at the age of 34 she barely needed such artificial support. But the bra added a dominating hauteur to her appearance, she thought.

 

She wore burnished black leather boots which came to just above her knee and were wide at the tops, pirate-style. They had high heels and made the German tarts’ boots pale into insignificance, she knew. Her pussy and buttocks were bare – she needed them bare for her first day’s play!

 

On her hands, Lauren had pulled tight-fitting black leather gloves, the ideal weapons to give some slut nigger a face slapping. In one leather-gloved hand she held the single-stranded lash, a gift from the management she had found on her bedspread on arrival in her chalet.

 

Lauren was suppressing a slight urge to urinate, which she knew would increase as her performance went on. It would be an important part of her display of dominance.

 

But it was Lauren’s trademark cigarette holder which announced the supreme signature to her bold, bossy appearance. An extremely expensive gold item by Cartier, it had diamonds encrusted at its extremity where she had inserted a long Sobranie cigarette. It remained unlit – Lauren no longer smoked, except on the rarest occasions, but it was there for the look of it. And it looked, she knew, sensational.

 

As Lauren walked over to the stage, she saw that a small group had gathered to witness her work. She approved – Lauren loved to show off to audience, not because she was, by nature, a show off, but because she knew she put on a fucking good performance.

 

Dominas Lucy and Fenella were in the audience, each holding leashes attached to collars around two nigger slaves, who knelt obediently by the dominas’ sides on the beautifully manicured lawn by the swimming pool and abutting the stage.

 

Also in attendance was camp commandant Helga, wearing her usual playsuit uniform, but also with a black leather Muir cap jauntily set on her head. By her side stood another playsuited staff member, the 50-year-old Mistress of Ceremonies, Patricia.

 

There was no sign of the two German bitches, but Lauren cared not one jot. It was their loss to be missing what the 34-year-old San Diego computer millionairess knew would be a tour de force of domination.

 

But standing in the audience – and Lauren knew it would be her gain – was the lovely Lady Barbara, clad in a gleaming black PVC bikini which allowed the side globes of her 38-inch breasts to spill either side of the narrow strips covering her nipples. Her bikini bottom was similarly scandalously brief.

 

Lauren stepped up onto the stage, her heart pounding with excitement. She looked down at her seven-strong audience – five dommes, two nigger slaves – and then heard a clip-clop of high heels. Climbing the steps to the stage was Domina Sarah, holding two leashes clipped to the throat chokers of slave 1 – the busty, pouting 18-year-old – and slave 10, the equally busty and equally pouting mother, aged 40. Their black skin gleamed in the glow of the morning sun.

 

Sarah, wearing only a little bikini bottom and calf-high black booties, unclipped the leashes from her charges and murmured: “Two slaves for your enjoyment, Mistress Lauren.” She then bowed slightly, backed away as if in awe at Lauren’s haughty appearance and walked from the stage to take up her place in the audience.

 

Lauren felt a frisson of excitement run from her pussy up to her nipples – they were erect, despite the lovely warm sun – and looked at her “playthings”. Both looked extremely apprehensive – as well they might. Neither had been dominated by this lovely, lissom blonde. It was going to be a new experience for them and, Lauren decided, a painful and humiliating one.

 

She picked up her single-stranded flogger and traced it across the nigger momma’s slightly heaving big breasts, flicked its tip across her nipples and asked: “So you’re the big momma, eh, bitch?”

 

The woman nodded: “Yes, mistress.”

 

Lauren struck at once. Her right-gloved hand – the left was holding the cigarette holder and the grip of the lash – flashed across the black bitch’s face, striking her left cheek and whipping her head across. Not a knock-out blow, Lauren realised, but a wake-up call, she knew.

 

“I have a name, you fucking piece of nigger shit,” she snapped, but although it was a snap it was not a shout – a fact that made it all the more menacing. “To you it’s ‘Mistress Lauren’. Now what is it, nigger?”

 

Despite her dark, black looks, the slave blanched and gulped: “Mistress Lauren, mistress.”

 

“Look, bitch,” said Lauren, slapping a backhand across the nigger’s left cheek, “we’ve got an audience, they want to hear what you have to fucking say. Louder, speak up!”

 

“Mistress Lauren, mistress,” the 40-year-old yelled.

 

“That’s better, you bitch, you’ll get a reward if you obey like that,” said Lauren, quietly, but still hugely menacingly. “Now, tell me nigger bitch, who’s this whore by your side, eh? Speak up, let everyone hear.”

 

“She’s my daughter, Mistress Lauren,” said the big, black momma.

 

“No, no, no fucking no,” said Lauren, enunciating the words slowly, deliberately, calmly and – of course – menacingly. “She’s not your daughter, she’s your fucking nigger slut daughter.”

 

Then Lauren walked behind the 40-year-old nude and pushed her around until the back of her firm, large body was facing the audience.

 

“Bend over, clasping your hands on your knees, nigger slut,” Lauren snapped, and the big black bird obeyed, presenting Lauren and the audience with an unencumbered view of lush but firm buttock cheeks – for a 40-year-old she was in excellent shape – a dark cleft of anus and thick pussy lips. The fact that the momma had spread her feet about a yard apart accentuated her position of total submission.

 

“On your knees, child,” said Lauren, in a voice which hissed at a pitch just above a whisper. Instinctively the 18-year-old knew where she should position herself – directly behind her black momma’s bottom.

 

“Now lick your momma’s anus, lick it lovingly, lick it with devotion, lick it as if you love it – now do it!” Again Lauren’s command was spoken softly, but clearly. Again she put a frisson of menace in the command.

 

The teenaged trollop opened her mouth and a thick, pink tongue began to lave at her momma’s asshole. Checking that the bitch had started off satisfactorily, Lauren walked in front of the half-bending 40-year-old.

 

“Now, nigger bitch,” said Lauren, calmly to her mature slave, “just what’s going on back there, at your anus, eh?”

 

“It’s being licked, Mistress Lauren,” she replied, in a semi-shout.

 

“Precisely, so what does that make the licker, you fucking nigger slut, you?” demanded Lauren, all sweetness and light.

 

“It makes her a fucking nigger slut daughter, Mistress Lauren,” the nigger momma yelled.

 

“Fucking right,” said Lauren. “So why didn’t you save us all a fucking load of time by not telling us that in the first place?”

 

“Sorry, Mistress Lauren, I’ll do better next time,” came the 40-year-old’s reply.

 

“Fucking oath you will!” Lauren screamed, the scream, coming as it did after all her calm and collected commands, sent a shock through both the nigger bitch and the audience.

 

Lauren felt a sort of ripple run through that audience, and then a cry of “Bravo” came from Helga’s lips. Lauren felt a warm glow of extreme satisfaction – praise from the camp commandant, no less.

 

Lauren looked down into the momma’s big brown, pleading eyes. “And what do we do to people who waste our time when we’re in a domme scenario?” asked Lauren, back to her “sweetness and light” tone, now, and deliberately using the royal “we”.

 

“You punish them, Mistress Lauren,” said the black bitch, breathing heavily now as her anus was rimmed by her teenage daughter.

 

“Getting hot, are we?” sneered Lauren, realising the woman was becoming excited.

 

“Yes, Mistress Lauren,” the 40-year-old shouted, and although it was a shout, a tremor of excitement filled with fear and loathing was also mixed up in the timbre of her voice.

 

“Move down to her smelly cunt and piss flaps, you little nigger whorelette,” shouted Lauren to the teenager, and the girl obeyed. The mother gave a few grunts, she was wet down there and the daughter was lapping at her copious juices.

 

Soon the black momma was pushing her pussy back against her daughter’s face and Lauren realised, that despite the extreme humiliation of the situation, momma was getting aroused.

 

With a crisp call of “Stop, slut, get up” Lauren brought the proceedings to a halt. Then she addressed the 40-year-old: “Stand up, hands behind your head, turn and face the audience, now!”

 

The busty bitch complied, presenting a fine picture of naked obedience, her breasts, big and nipple-hard, heaving, her quim glistening from the oral attentions of her daughter.

 

“Now for the pain,” said Lauren grimly and she stepped off to one side, allowing the hushed audience a perfect view of what was about to occur, and swept her lash in a swift upward arc against the momma’s minge.

 

The woman let out a sob, then Lauren struck again, another swift stroke. The top five inches of the lash caressed the nigger’s quim, making a splatting noise as it hit home against the moist flesh. A murmur ran through the assembled throng, this was lash-wielding at its very finest!

 

Again Lauren brought her flogger into sharp contact with the woman’s pulsating pussy, again the nigger bitch winced. Then Lauren halted and turned to the audience.

 

“Now ladies,” she said, as if she was addressing a mundae meeting of her board, “just in case you regard me as a merciless flogger, without any thought for my slut slave number 10 here, let me show you how wrong you are.”

 

Then she looked at the nigger’s daughter. “Time to pleasure your momma, again, slut,” said Lauren, “and don’t look all fucking pouty at me, bitch, because I know you adore doing it. Now, on your knees and bring her off! And quickly.”

 

In a flash, the busty brown beauty was on her knees in front of her momma’s swarthy brown quim, her tongue darting along the 40-year-old’s sex trench. The effect of pliant tongue on flogged flesh was, of course, excruciating for the recipient of the licking. The black momma started to moan and groan. Lauren relished in her pain.

 

Then, gradually, the girl’s oral adoration worked her mother up into a higher plane, and the pain was left behind, the pleasure started to arrive and the nigger momma began to graunch her pussy and hips in astonishingly erotic gyrations on the girl’s face.

 

Realising that her slave was now starting to enjoy her daughter’s oral attentions, Lauren stepped forward, quickly, and slashed the young bitch across her black back. “Stop, you stupid nigger, you’ve taken far too fucking long,” she snapped and as the daughter stood, the mother looked as if she was going to weep at the thought of being denied her orgasm.

 

“Well, it’s obvious that your fucking whore of a daughter is completely fucking useless with her mouth,” snapped Lauren. “Let’s see if you’re any better, you filthy old slut – on your knees and start to pleasure me. And be careful – if you’re no good, I have ways of dealing with you.”

 

The nigger bitch knelt in front of Lauren’s stunning pussy, placed her hands on the white woman’s gloriously-shaped buttocks and was about to perform cunnilingus, when the lissom domina kneed her hard and pushed her back.

 

“Never – and I mean never – place your filthy nigger hands on my ass unless I give you specific instructions, you harlot,” Lauren shouted. “Kneel on your fucking hands, see if that keeps ‘em under control. Now, get to work.”

 

Once more the black bitch knelt and placed her face close to the sweet-smelling feminine aroma which poured from Lauren’s quim. But before she could begin, Lauren announced: “And be aware that if I’m not happy with your technique, the piss will flow.”

 

Lauren then paused to let that warning sink in. Once more the nigger’s mouth was about to begin worshipping Lauren’s temple and the 34-year-old issued another warning: “And if I piss, you’d better not spill a fucking drop. Now, get to work, slut!”

 

At last slave 10 was allowed to start licking and laving at Lauren’s moistness. For a minute or more, she allowed the sweating black bitch to enjoy her lovely labia lips, cunt and clit, then the ever-increasing urge to urinate overwhelmed her.

 

“Be careful, bitch, be very, very careful, because you are the fucking worst pussy licker it has ever been my misfortune to stand over,” she said, rocking slightly on the woman’s working mouth because she was, in fact, very, very good with her mouth and tongue.

 

Then, just as the sweating, panting slave was desperately trying to please the lovely white woman, Lauren roared out: “Mouth open, drink, and don’t dare spill a drop!”

 

The slave obeyed and Lauren’s thick, strong gusher of piss exploded into the nigger’s mouth and down her throat. With great gulps she attempted to chug the strong, dark yellow torrent down, but to no avail. The inevitable happened – a thin stream of urine flowed over from her panting mouth and dribbled down her chin, onto her heaving right breast, then ran in a slim rivulet down her belly.

 

“Spillage!” called Madam Helga, who had moved to the front of the stage for a closer look, as had all the other dominas, but still Lauren’s bladder was emptying, and although the gusher had now faded to a dribble, the nigger bitch was now failing completely to contain the surge of piss, which was pouring from her overflowing mouth all over her chin, down her breasts and sliding smoothly down her chest and belly to fade away from sight over her large, well-muscled thighs.

 

With an impatient shove, Lauren kneed the panting black bitch from her presence and snapped to the daughter: “Over here, whore, and clean my pussy, you little cunt.”

 

The 18-year-old was soon at Lauren’s minge, her mouth working on the blonde’s piss flaps and pussy, laving and licking until Lauren was satisfied. “Stay on your knees, cunt,” she hissed and moved to the front of the stage.

 

“Thank-you, ladies, that concludes the first part of my performance. But I must seek your guidance on the nigger bitch’s total and complete failure to swallow all my urine. What punishment does this usually entail? Madam Helga, perhaps you could enlighten us?”

 

Helga moved from the front of the stage to the steps and walked up them, then stepped beside Lauren at stage front. “First, before we decide on the sentence for slave 10, I’d like to thank the lovely Lauren for her wonderful display of dominance here this morning,” said the commandant.

 

Lauren, who always knew she was good, was nonetheless delighted to be approved of by an audience of such devilish dominas. She waved her gloved hand, the cigarette holder hand, in a signal of triumph above her head and grinned broadly at the clapping crowd.

 

“Now, as to the punishment,” said Helga, when the applause had died down. “”What did we give slave 3 for that spillage yesterday, Mistress of Ceremonies?”

 

“A mild touch up, Madam Commandant,” said Patricia, “which is, of course, 60 strokes in the flogging frame to be delivered in no more than 15 minutes.”

 

There was a look of contemplation on Helga’s face. “And your recommendation?” she asked. “I didn’t see slave 3’s infraction, you did and you saw this one.

 

Patricia pondered, drawing out slave 10’s agony, Lauren realised. Then she spoke:  “I don’t think slave 3’s was nearly as bad a breach of urine-drinking rules as slave 10’s.”

 

“So your recommendation, Madam Patricia?”

 

The MC again pondered. The nigger woman looked down at her, her big brown eyes almost pleading. Then Patricia spoke: “I recommend a hard touch up – 100 strokes.”

 

The 40-year-old sank to her knees and pressed her face against the camp commandant’s booted calf: “Mercy, pretty please, Madam Commandant, mercy, it was my first time at Mistress Lauren’s pussy, I wasn’t expecting such a strong surge. Mercy, Madam, mercy!”

 

But Helga wasn’t listening. She turned to Lauren. “I take it you want to carry out the punishment?” she inquired.

 

“It would be my pleasure,” said Lauren, “but not immediately. I think we can leave it an hour or so. I have other things in mind for these two. May I carry on?”

 

Helga grinned a sadistic grin and nodded in agreement with her guest. “By all means, please, continue, I’m intrigued.”

 

Lauren stepped to center stage again and waved her cigarette holder hand to the audience. “Now we’ll move over to the flogging frame, if you’d all like to gather around that.”

 

The audience moved until it was in front of the flogging frame and Lauren stepped from the stage, followed by the 40-year-old black momma and her teenage daughter.

Indicating the steel-framed flogging apparatus, its poles and crossbar shiny in the strong sun, Lauren commanded the teenie slut: “Get your fucking momma strapped up in that, bitch – and make it tight, I want to see her muscles straining in the bondage.”

 

After the 18-year-old had strapped her momma severely into the frame, the 40-year-old straining on tiptoe under the stringency of the suspending straps above her head, Lauren moved around the naked victim, tracing her single-stranded lash across the nigger’s gleaming flesh.

 

“One hundred strokes,” mused Lauren, almost as if speaking to herself, but acutely aware that her slave was waiting on every word, along with her interested audience. “I don’t think this little thing will do for such a punishment, you do, nigger?” she said, pointing her cigarette-holdered Sobranie almost into the bitch’s eye, the lash dangling from the same hand.

 

“No, Mistress Lauren,” said the mature nigger, in a strong voice.

 

“What do you suggest, eh bitch? Possibly the rubber cat o’ nine tails? That more the way to go, eh you fucking piss-spilling slut?”

 

“Yes, Mistress Lauren, much more efficacious,” said the nigger.

 

Lauren regarded her with amusement. “Efficacious?” she sneered. “Effi-fucking-casious? What kind of crap is that? You trying to impress me, nigger?”

 

“No, Mistress Lauren, no, certainly not, Mistress Lauren,” stammered the bondaged black bitch.

 

“Right, well remember your fucking place, bitch. Slaves use words like ‘effective’, you dumb bitch, and don’t forget it,” said Lauren. “Even ‘painful’ – painful I’d accept, but not fucking efficacious.”

 

“Right nigger,” said Lauren, now addressing the slave’s daughter. “Get that miserable fat ass of yours up to my chalet, on the bed you’ll find a cat o’nine tails on the bed. Fetch it here and hurry.”

 

The nigger girl ran towards the chalets, then realised she had no idea which was Lauren’s. “Mistress Lauren,” she yelled, “which chalet?”

 

“Check the one behind you, cunt,” roared Lauren and the black bird dived into the chalet and emerged carrying the cat with its heavy rubber thongs.

 

“No, no, no,” snapped Lauren, a trio of words which brought the teenager to halt. “Handle in your mouth, on all fours and crawl to me, you simple-minded fucking bitch. And be quick about it.”

 

The girl crawled as quickly as she could across the lawn, her breasts and ass wobbling delightfully as she made progress towards Lauren.

 

When she had halted obediently in front of the blonde domina, the girl raised her face and Lauren bent to take the cat. Moving to the slave in the suspension frame, she then made the black bitch open her mouth, then thrust the handle into it. “And make sure you don’t fucking drop it or I’ll be even more pissed off than I am now,” she informed the naked slave.

 

When the woman had the cat’s grip firmly between her teeth, Lauren told the teenie slut: “On your knees and eat your nigger momma’s pussy, bitch. Let’s see if you can do a better job this time.”

 

Lauren walked over to one side and watched with interest as the youngster worked on her momma’s quim. It took her only a few minutes to get the 40-year-old writhing and wriggling. Soon, thought Lauren, the inevitable will occur, and then she heard the older woman starting to make noises which sounded like “mmmmffff”, thanks to her whip handle gag.

 

“That’s enough,” said Lauren, as she looked at the sweat pouring off the again denied slave. “Over to me, try and improve your fucking tongue technique – and don’t forget, if I’m not satisfied it’s piss time and any spillage earns you a place up in that flogging frame after your momma, bitch.”

 

The teen knelt in front of Lauren’s bare pussy and resumed oral adoration, this time on a beautifully aromatic, wet, white pussy.

 

After a couple of minutes, Lauren felt her juices starting to run and warned the bitch: “Incoming, slave slut!” And then a blast of urine spurted down the black girl’s throat, then another, and a final short blast. This, Lauren was careful to spray deliberately onto the poor bitch’s cheek.

 

“Spillage,” shouted the camp commandant, who had stepped forward to get a close-up view of proceedings.

 

“Oh dear, slut,” said Lauren, as the girl was cleaning her piss-stained pussy, “sorry, but it looks like you’re in for a flogging after your poor old momma.” Only Lauren didn’t sound sorry in the least.

 

Helga smiled at Lauren. “Well, rules are rules, Lauren, my dear, so I’m afraid the little nigger is in for a flogging after that whore of a mother. What do you say, Patricia? Mild, or light?”

 

“What’s the difference?” asked Lauren.

 

“Mild is 60 strokes, within 15 minutes, light is 40 strokes, to be delivered in 10 minutes at the most.”

 

Partricia stepped in front of the naked momma and looked down at the slave’s piss-stained daughter. “Light is the most I can recommend,” she said, “it really was the most slight of spillages.”

 

Helga turned to Lauren: “So I suppose you’ll want to inflict those, as well, eh Lauren?”

 

Lauren grinned. “I have a plan in mind,” she informed the camp commandant, “but first I think I should deal with the momma bitch. Agreed?”

 

Helga and Patricia stood back and gave a semi-bow. “Be my guest,” she grinned, and she and her Mistress of Ceremonies stepped back into the audience.

 

Lauren moved to the flogging frame and removed the cat from the nigger’s mouth. “Now,” she addressed her helpless victim, “just to prove I’m not a totally heartless bitch, I’m going to be kind to you.”

 

The nigger’s eyes flashed. As an experienced slave she knew full well that this did not bode well. “I’m going to give you some pleasure during the flogging to take your mind off the pain,” said Lauren.

 

“Nigger bitch,” and she was talking to the girl. “When I’m flogging your momma’s front, you’ll lick her anus. When I’m flogging her back and great big fat ass, you lick her pussy. I’m going to start with 20 strokes on her front, so get to work behind her bum – and part her cheeks, slut.”

 

As the teenager went work, slobbering at her mother’s ass, Lauren asked: “Sorry, Madam Commandant, but what’s the time frame for a 100-stroker?”

 

“No time limit,” Helga informed her, “but no more than five strokes a minute.”

“Fine,” said Lauren, tracing the rubber fronds of the cat over the nude’s big breasts, belly and pudenda. “Count ‘em out for me, nigger slut,” she told the woman hanging before her, “I don’t see why I have to do all the fucking work.”

 

Then she drew the cat back and flailed it through the air where it made a splatting sound as the nine tails were impeded in their forward progress by the nigger’s big breasts. “One, thank-you Mistress Lauren,” came the floggee’s cry.

 

The next stroke cut across her belly. The third, flashed up into her pussy, eliciting a squeal before she panted out: “Three, thank-you, Mistress Lauren.”

 

Lauren continued her slow journey around the naked victim’s perspiring flesh. Breasts, shoulders, belly, thighs, pudenda, all were targets as she cut a leisurely path through the first 20 strokes, while the teenager worked diligently at her momma’s ass.

 

As she worked, Lauren was vaguely aware of the sound of camera shutters being clicked by members of her audience, but thought no more of it. She was too intent on making her nigger bitch suffer, although even Lauren was faintly impressed by the nigger’s strong count as she underwent the flailing of the rubber thongs.

 

Finally, the 20th blow rained down, and Lauren walked behind her slave. The teenie moved in front of her moma and knelt to begin work on the woman’s pussy, as Lauren’s arm swung efficiently through the air to land blow after blow on the victim’s shoulder blades, buttocks and backs of her thighs.

 

Then Lauren resumed the fully-frontal flogging, while the teen worked once more on the ass, then it was 20 more for the back. The final 20 strokes were delivered in slow, measured batches of 10 on the front, 10 on the back, before Lauren was done. By the time she was done, needless to say, the nigger bitch’s shouts had increased, as had the red streak marks decorating her full, well-built body.

 

“Let her down, bitch,” said Lauren, as the teenager pulled her sex-stained mouth from her mother’s pulsing pussy.

 

Lauren watched, hands on hips, finger tapping her trademark cigarette holder as the big naked nigger was freed by her daughter.

 

“Now, nigger bitch,” said Lauren, addressing the 40-year-old, “get the little whore up there – and make her body stretch, I want to see those muscles strain.”

 

This took a while, but after Lauren ran a gloved hand along the straining, stretching slave’s young figure, she pronounced herself satisfied with the stringency of the bondage inflicted by mother on daughter.

 

With a casual flick of the wrist, Lauren threw the cat o’ nine tails to the mother. “I’m getting fucking tired, bitch,” she announced, “you do the job. And if you fucking stint, the stroke will be repeated and repeated until I think you’ve got it right.”

 

Slave 10 looked at Lauren in almost disbelief when she realised what she was being asked to do. She glanced across to the camp commandant, who nodded her head once, tersely.

 

“Start with her lovely young back, bitch,” said Lauren, and the woman walked behind her daughter. Bringing her arm back, the momma dragged an expertly applied stroke across the girl’s back.

 

“One, thank-you, Mistress Lauren,” the girl cried.

 

“Hold on one moment,” said Lauren, advancing towards the suspended slave, “hold on one fucking moment.” She stood grimly right in front of the girl’s wide-eyed face.

 

Lauren, her holder in her right hand now, slapped her left hand across the slave’s left cheek, then her right. “Do you see me fucking flogging you, you dumb cunt?” she barked at the girl.

 

“No, no, Mistress Lauren,” said the slave.

 

“Well let’s get it fucking right then, shall we?” asked Lauren, in the tone of someone desperately trying to make herself understood. “The correct call is ‘One stroke, thank-you, mummy mistress’, isn’t it?”

 

The girl nodded her head slowly. Lauren stepped back. “Sorry, slave 10, we’ll have to start from the beginning. From the top!”

 

And the cat flashed down expertly again across the teeny’s back. “One, thank-you, mummy mistress,” sobbed the girl.

 

“That’s better, that’s better,” said Lauren soothingly, and watched carefully as the mother flogged her daughter, noting to her immense satisfaction that not once did the more mature woman stint in her application of the strokes.

 

After the 40th stroke had fallen, the mother was allowed to kiss her daughter on her pussy, then release her from her bonds. The camp commandant walked up to both women, patted each of them on the shoulder – a rather friendly approach, Lauren thought – and then called Sarah over.

 

“Leash them and take them back to their cells,” she instructed. “Light lunches and plenty of water. They’re both excused further duties until 4pm.”

 

Then, with a satisfied rub of her hands, Helga announced: “Lauren, superb, well done. Now, after watching all that hard work, I think it’s time for a well-deserved lunch.”

 

In the dining room, Lauren occupied pride of place with Helga and Patricia, with Lady B also in attendance. The Frankfurt frauleins, Lauren noticed with a certain smugness, were seated alone at a distant table.

 

As they lunched, both Fenella and Sarah came up with photos they’d downloaded from their digital cameras of Lauren at work. She signed each colour print with a flourish: Mistress Lauren, and the date.

 

“A veritable tour de force, my dear,” said Helga, chugging down her second tankard of draught lager during lunch. “I’d offer you a job here as a permanent staffer, but I fear we couldn’t afford you.”

 

After lunch, Lauren celebrated her “coup” for her first domme session of the holiday by secretly smoking a Sobranie. She had insisted to Lady B that she’d sworn off the habit, but this once she felt a celebratory puff was acceptable.

 

Later that afternoon, Lauren lay naked by the pool, her body being massaged by slave 6, who had been recommended to her by Patricia. Soon the aches from the morning’s whip-wielding had vanished and Lauren swan some 20 lengths of the pool, cleaving through the water in a superb freestyle, as slave 6 massaged Lady B.

 

After climbing from the pool, her body glistening with droplets of water, another naked slave towelled her down. As this was being done, along came the lovely Lucy, wearing a tiny little bikini which seemed to consist of several strategically-placed strings. Those in the upper garment – it was hardly a bra, and it was hardly a garment, thought Lauren – actually revealed more nipple than it covered.

 

The 20-year-old whispered in Lauren’s ear. “I’m going down to the Silverton. I’ll wait for 20 minutes.” And her pert, naked buttocks wiggled seductively as she made her way down the leafy lane to the berthing jetty.

 

Pulling on her shady stetson, Lauren leaned over to Lady B, whispered “I’m off for a walk” and slipped her feet into some flip flops and made her way down to the jetty. By the time she had reached the Silverton, she was perspiring lightly all over her firm, nude body.

 

Stepping onto the craft, she jumped into the rear deck, then peered into the below deck lounge. There, lying back on a leather couch, her back and head propped by cushions lay Lucy – like Lauren, stark naked.

 

“Well fancy, look at what you come across during siesta,” said Lauren, as she moved swiftly into the lounge, turned to close the door behind her, and almost dived onto the 20-year-old’s big breasted body.

 

Their mouths locked in a passionate kiss, then Lucy pulled away.

 

“Fuck,” she said, “fuck you were hot out there this morning. Where did you learn that?”

 

Lauren grinned. “Was I that good?” she said, her tongue nuzzling over Lucy’s lush, lickable boobs, bringing her lovely young nipples to instant hard-ons.

 

“Good?” said Lucy, in practised astonishment. “It was so fucking good it should have been made into a video and used as a training film for dominas. Good doesn’t go half way there, Lauren, you superdomme, you.”

 

But Lauren wasn’t really listening, she knew she was good, she loved the flattery, but what she craved now most of all was a lovely young white pussy beneath her mouth.

 

She slid down Lucy’s hot young body and pressed her mouth against her mons, licking over the prickly little swathe of close-trimmed pubic hair, then lowering her lips to the girl’s gushing cunt.

 

The powerful aroma of ripe young pussy invaded Lauren’s nostrils, sending a shudder through her body as she revelled in Lucy’s lovely tanned, brown thighs wrapping around her head. She licked keenly, eager not to spill a drop of the youngster’s flood of passion, tasting every drop of succulent, creamy froth.

 

“Oh fuck,” Lucy moaned, as she lay back and thrust her pussy up against Lauren’s tongue and lips. “You dominate like a demon and you suck like an angel,” she informed her lover, as the older woman continued her licking and laving at the moist, aromatic pudenda.

 

Soon the short-haired, firm-busted and wet-pussied little minx could control her desires not one second longer, and with a grunting, heaving, shouting “Yaaaaargh” she came noisily and wantonly on Lauren’s fast-moving mouth.

 

Lauren felt her heart smashing against her rib cage. So much fucking excitement in one day – first the domination, then going down on such a sweet-smelling pussy! But now it was time for her to get her rocks off – and climbing swiftly onto the couch, she planted her knees firmly on either side of the lovely little domina’s head and lowered her minge firmly onto her mouth.

 

“Shit, you’re so wet,” exclaimed the English bird, as her mouth started fluttering its sexy way around Lauren’s cunt, labia and clit. She paid no attention to the older woman’s anus, a fact that did nothing to upset Lauren as she came with one of the quickest climaxes of her life on Lucy’s face.

 

Sitting back on the couch, Lauren, for all her stern, strictness still a lady, apologised: “I’m so sorry, Lucy, I came so fucking fast. I put it down to all the excitement of this morning’s little game.”

 

Lucy laughed. “That ‘little game’ as you so sweetly call it, lasted bloody near three hours,” she said. “And it was one of the most exciting three hours of my life. I was as wet down there as a winter’s week in Manchester.” It was, thought Lauren, some sort of English weather “joke”.

 

Later, as they wound their way, arm-in-arm, back up the path Lucy told Lauren that she’d not hog her all to herself. “The other two dominas want you like crazy,” said the little English bird, “and I know the CC and the MC want you.”

 

“How?” asked Lauren, nibbling on the shorter woman’s ear as they emerged by the pool, Lauren still nude save for her flip-flops, Lucy in her scandalous “bikini”.

 

“Oh, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse,” said Lucy mysteriously. Lauren didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. She had a mouth-watering body.

 

Back in her chalet, Lauren pulled on a brief little PVC bikini, same style different color from the previous day’s, and strolled over to the camp commandant’s office.

 

Inside, she found Patricia with her brown legs up over a naked black bitch’s shoulders. The slave was licking away at the Mistress of Ceremonies’ minge. Behind her stood the camp commandant, idly flicking a riding crop across the slave’s shoulder blades.

 

“Oh, hi, Lauren, how’s the star of the show?” asked Helga, with a broad grin.

 

“Fine,” said Lauren, ignoring the compliment. “I just wanted to ask Patricia here if she could organise me a slave for my chalet tonight.”

 

Helga grinned again. “Oh, don’t tell me, Lauren, you’ve taken a shine – pardon my pun – to the little 18-year-old?”

 

“To the contrary,” said Lauren, coolly. “I want her mother tonight.”

 

“Her mother?” said Helga, raising an eyebrow. “Big backside, Lauren.”

 

“All the more flesh for the paddle to come into contact with,” said Lauren. “Organise her, please, Patricia.”

 

Patricia looked up from the slave servicing her pussy and asked: “May I ask why? She’s almost as fucking old as me?”

 

“If you must know,” said Lauren, possibly slightly more coolly than she intended, “because she’s got a fucking good technique at cunnilingus.” And then she turned on her heel and left. As she shut the door behind her, she heard Helga bringing the crop down on the slave’s back again.

 

After a long, luxurious bath, Lucy dressed in a Jitois jumpsuit, displaying plenty of her stunning cleavage, and in the bar again found herself the centre of attention. Helga and Karla were both all over her, and Patricia, wearing a sleek, shiny PVC gown which revealed her organ-stop nipples through the material wasn’t far behind.

 

The three dominas were delegated to entertain the Frankfurt frauleins, but judging from the quiet aura of gloom which emitted from that table, conversation was heavy work.

 

Lady B, Lauren noticed, was deep in conversation with the lovely blonde barmaid and well before dinner was over the pair had left the dining area, hand-in-hand. Lauren smiled to herself. She wondered if her friend would take the dominant role. Something told her she might.

 

This evening, Lauren refused cognac or coffee, and retired before 8pm – Helga and Patricia smiling knowingly as the lovely Californian departed.

 

Outside her chalet, Lauren found slave 10, kneeling naked on the steps outside. She brushed past her, opened the door, snapped “Inside, nigger” and let the woman crawl in. The nigger sat, kneeling on the floor, as Lauren stripped off in the en suite and then marched back to the bedroom.

 

Climbing up onto the bed, Lauren called out: “Up here and eat me, nigger bitch. And slowly – I want a long, slow orgasm. Failure and you’ll find yourself in a torture chamber with me all fucking night.”

 

Whether such a punishment was permitted or not, Lauren frankly didn’t know. She doubted they would refuse her request, after all, Lady B was paying good money for their fortnight.

 

The 40-year-old was as good as Lauren had thought she would be from her morning’s performance. She brought Lauren slowly, slowly, slowly, to a shuddering, staggering orgasm after some 20 minutes of brilliant tongue devotion, then licked her down to earth before working her up all over again and bringing her to climax after, possibly, 15 minutes this time.

 

Lauren then thrust out a foot, catching the nigger pussy-licker firmly on a full breast. “Sleep on the floor,” snapped Lauren, and the woman obediently removed herself and curled up on the carpet.

 

Back home in San Diego, Lauren may have been an equal opportunities employer, but here on the Isle d’Esclaves she was fucked if she was going to share her bed with a nigger!

 

 Next: Day 3.