Dream Island Resort

Part 1. Abducted.

The two men watched the night guard check the entrance to the dorm building and then continue his round. When he disappeared round a corner, they ran silently across the lawn and seconds later had picked the lock. They paused for a moment in the hall, listening, to make sure that all was quiet, then put on infrared night goggles and ran up the stairs to the second floor, along a row of doors to stop in front of the fourth. One of them took a devise from his satchel, pressed it to the door and put a plug in his ear. After a couple of minutes he stowed it away again and nodded to his companion, who a moment later had picked his second lock and opened the door. The two men slipped inside and closed it behind them. Only slow breathing breached the silence in the room where two young girls were asleep under the sheets and blankets, their hair spread on the pillows. The men pulled on the gas masks hanging around their necks and grabbed two canisters from their belts, directing them at the peaceful faces. A faint 'whoosh' and the bodies stiffened for a second, then relaxed. They nodded to each other and quickly drew back the covers. Both girls were dressed in just a pair briefs and their slim frames were glowing in the darkness, but that didn't affect the intruders. One of them brought two bundles of black nylon out of his satchel and unfolded them on the floor, while the other turned the first girl on her stomach. The limp brown body offered no resistance when he stretched her arms to secure them with three straps of duct-tape over and below her firm breasts and across her flat stomach. He strapped her knees and ankles together and forced her feet up to tape them to her thighs. The other man worked on the second girl and soon had her similarly restrained. Together they grabbed one of them to place on the rolled out nylon, folded it around her and zipped it up. A moment later two ordinary sports bags were on the floor. The men quickly straightened the beds, picked up discarded clothing and stuffed it in their satchels. They tidied the desks to make the room look as if it hadn't been used, found the girls' handbags, checked for their personal papers and stowed them away. One of them listened at the door while the other took a last look around. At his fellow's nod he hefted one of the bags on his shoulder, grunting at the weight, and opened the door. He took a quick look around, nodded, removed his mask and ran silently towards the stairs. His fellow grabbed the other bag, closed the door behind him and locked it. A few minutes later they were running across the lawn towards a cluster of bushes. The whole operation lasted less than fifteen minutes.

Jim stirred in his sleep and peered into in the darkness. 'Had there been a strange sound?' He listened, but heard only his wife sleeping beside him and closed his eyes again. The two men, who'd just entered the small flat, stood stock still, listening intensely, until the slow breathing of two people asleep reassured them that all was clear, then moved silently to the bedroom, spreading out on either side of the double bed and bowed over the two faces with their canisters ready.

A cruising police car slowed down when two men left the block of flats overlooking the park in the early hours of the morning, casually, but expensively dressed and carrying what looked like golf bags over their shoulders. They strolled down the pavement towards an underground parking lot, talking and laughing, without taking any notice of the car, and the officers drove away.

The two teenage girls were babysitting each other while their parents went to a weekend convention together. They had dutifully answered the phone at the frequent checks, assuring that the house was kept secured. Their parents arrived home earlier than expected to find the gate locked and, after leaving the car in the driveway, the alarm switched on. John Crowson deactivated it and entered by the front door. The house was silent and the sitting room tidy; not even a can of coke littered the table in front of the TV. His wife looked surprised and pleased and went upstairs with her friend to wake up the girls. The two husbands had just opened a couple of beers in the kitchen when she came back. "John, they're gone. Chris and Millie aren't here". He stared at her and saw her eyes brimming with tears. "They haven't slept in their beds and some of their clothes are missing. Oh, John, can they have run away?"

Ben had just bared his girlfriend's ample breasts and was kissing her nipples when the back door of his car was opened and a blast of cold hit the two flushing faces. He opened his mouth to cry out, but felt darkness close around him and fell limply over Liz' half-naked body.

Caroline wept, her fifteen-year-old body wrecked by helpless sobbing. She hugged herself, trembling with fear and cold. Not the slightest glimmer of light penetrated the darkness around her and the only sound was her own sobs. She had gone to bed as usual, kissing her parents good night, and now woke up here, naked.

Charlie carefully felt his way through the darkness, sensing cement floor under his bare feet, but found only concrete walls until he reached a metal surface. 'The door', he thought, and groped around its edges. It had no handle, was in fact totally blank and fitting closely. He moved on until his shin bumped against the shelf on which he had found himself when awakening from his drugged sleep, and sat down, head in hands. 'Think!' Rosie and he had just got off the last bus, returning from the disco, and could see the door to her parents' house, when he sensed movement behind them. Before he could react, he smelled something medical and after that his memory was blank, until he woke up here. 'Some sort of knock-out gas', he thought, 'but why?' Their parents were far from rich, could hardly be expected to pay a ransom, and why had his kidnappers stripped him? He was close to despair when he thought about his girlfriend. 'Was she in a similar room, naked like him. She must be terrified, or...'. He pushed the thought of rape away and rose again. 'Shit, it was cold!' His six feet four muscular body shivered and he lowered himself to the floor to begin a series of push-ups. 'Must get warm, must keep in shape. Just wait until I get my hands on those guys!'

Eddie blinked, momentarily blinded when overhead light suddenly illuminated the small room where he had spent hours in darkness, and heard a metallic voice: "Get up and face the wall opposite the door. Put your hands behind your head and close your eyes". "Like Hell I won't!", he shouted, "Just let me out of here, bastards! What have you done to Ann?" "The bunk, you're sitting on, and the floor is wired. If you don't do as told, you'll receive an electric shock. You've got ten seconds". "Go fuck yourself!" The next moment his naked body was writhing on the floor in excruciating pain. "Ten seconds". He had just managed to get on his hands and knees when a new blast made him collapse again. "Shit!", he moaned, "OK, I'll do it". "Twenty seconds". He struggled to his shaky feet and stumbled to the wall, placing his hands behind his head. "Close your eyes". 'Shit, they must have a hidden camera'. He did as ordered and heard the door opening. "Stay where you are or you'll get a double dose". He was fuming with rage, but remained as he was, listening to the sounds of something being placed on the floor and the door closing again. "You've got fifteen minutes, so get a move on". He lowered his arms and turned to see two plastic bowls and a bucket just inside the door. One of the bowls contained water, the other a grey substance, with a spoon stuck into it. "Bastards!", he mumbled and grabbed the water bowl to quench his raging thirst. He sniffed at the other bowl, but it carried no smell, and took the small plastic spoon. The gruel was almost tasteless, and, hungry as he was, he wolfed it down. After that he emptied the water bowl, looked up to see if he could locate the camera, shrugged his shoulders and squatted over the bucket to piss and shit. He rose, grimacing with disgust, and stared angrily at the door. "What about some water for cleaning, bastards?" There was no answer and he paced the cell until the voice spoke again: "Back to the wall. Resume the position". He contemplated another rebellion, but remembered the pain and did as told. The door was opened and closed again, and the light went out.

A dark van stopped in front of a storehouse at a remote harbour and two men jumped out to stand in the glare of the headlights until they heard someone unlocking a door. The driver extinguished the lights while his fellow went to the back of the van and opened the hatch. Two men from the house joined them. "Got them?" The driver shrugged. "No. They weren't at home, but their servants woke up. We hadn't been warned about them, slept in a garden shed". "Shit! You got rid of them?" "In a way. They surprised us when we were leaving and we knocked them out with the gas. Had a look at their shed, no phone, couldn't have called the cops. Don't think they would, look like illegal immigrants". "Look like?" "Yeah. We brought them along. You decide what to do with them, Giorgio. Maybe you should keep them". He turned on the interior light and the two men from the house peered inside. On the floor was a naked couple in their early twenties and obviously Hispanic. The young woman was petite, about 5', with long black hair and heavy breasts. The man was not much higher, well proportioned, with sinewy arms and legs and a very long penis. "We cleared out the shed, not that they had much. Their employers will think they've run away, especially when they take a look at the lady's jewellery box". The driver grinned and hauled some necklaces and rings out of his pocket. "Hmm". One of the other men took a closer look at the unconscious bodies and turned the limp woman on her stomach. "OK, we'll keep them. Good thinking and good work".

"Assume the position". The light came on and Charlie rose from the bunk to face the back wall. As taught the hard way, he put his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes. "I've been here for days. How long will you keep me, us, and what have you done to Rosie?" There was no answer and he dared not move. Three blasts of electricity had quenched his lust for rebellion. 'For now', he thought and heard the door close again. "Not much longer and your black whore's OK, now. It took only two blasts to tame her". He spun around, lowered his hands and clenched his fists. "Bastards!" "Shut up and prepare for transport". He stopped short and looked at the items deposited by the door. The bucket was there, but instead of the two bowls, a small bundle of black cloth and a pile of chains rested on the floor beside it. "Piss and shit, you won't have another opportunity for some time. There are two sets of cuffs. You use those with the chain for your ankles, sit down on the bunk, put the hood over your head and cuff your hands behind your back. Ten minutes". "What! No way, bastards". For the fourth time during his imprisonment he fell screaming to the floor and this time the blast continued for almost a minute, while he was writhing and moaning in severe pain. "Had enough?", the metallic voice asked. The boy rolled on his hands and knees. "Yeah, bastards!" "Ten minutes". He crawled to the bucket and forced himself to empty bowels and bladder, then examined the two-foot long chain. It was quite light, but didn't give a fraction of an inch when he tried to break it with his strong hands, and the cuffs looked professional. 'Shit', he thought and closed the set around his sturdy ankles, grabbed the handcuffs and the cloth and shuffled to the bunk. The hood was large enough to cover his head down to his shoulders and, although there was a glimpse of light below it, he couldn't even see the floor right in front of him. With a frustrated sigh he cuffed his right wrist and moved his hands behind his back to close the second cuff.

After a brief wait he heard the metallic voice again: "Get up and turn around, slowly, kick your legs and raise your arms". He demonstrated that he was shackled securely. "Shake your head". His jailers were apparently satisfied and the door was opened. "Don't get any ideas, boy. We're wearing shoes with thick rubber soles". He abandoned the thought of kicking when he sensed someone behind his back, and was suddenly frightened when a noose was slipped over his head and drawn close around his neck and hood, completely cutting off his vision. "Hey, what are you doing?" "Relax, boy. We won't hang you". He felt a tug and followed his captor out of the cell. The floor under his bare feet felt the same and he shuffled docilely along until stopped. "Sit down and keep your mouth shut. One word and we blast you". He felt the edge of another metal shelf behind his knees and sank down. Someone was seated on his left, another naked body. He could feel the heat from it and pushed closer. 'Rosie?', he thought, but dared not open his mouth, and sensed that it couldn't be her, rather another male. They waited and after a while heard clanging of chains. A third naked person sat down on his right. 'Male again', he thought, and wondered how many they had captured. Another three were seated further down, but still none of them spoke. 'Tried being blasted, just like me'.

They stayed quietly there for what seemed a long time, unable to determine if any of their jailers were near, not daring to move or speak. "You're heading for a trip, boys". They still used the loudspeaker. 'To obscure their voices', Charlie thought. "Before you get any ideas of resisting when you leave our nice floor, we'll demonstrate what'll happen if you try anything foolish". There was a muffled yelp to the left of him before he felt something touch his chest. A sharp pain hit him and he couldn't suppress a scream. Four more screams came from the right and the voice spoke again: "That was a cattle prod, set at the lowest voltage. Imagine what it'll do to your balls, with more power". Charlie felt the man on his right shuddering and despaired again. 'These people obviously knew their business'. Someone fumbled with the rope around his neck and moved on to the next man. "On your feet. You're tied together, so walk carefully. Follow the man in front, the ground is even, and stop when told". The six chained men rose and the first in line felt a tug at his rope to make him shuffle carefully after his captor, the other victims following. They passed across more cement and felt cooler air around their naked bodies. 'Going outside', Charlie thought, and sniffed. Even through the hood he could smell the sea. They progressed slowly until they felt wooden planking under their bare feet. "Stop and kneel". The row of hooded men carefully lowered themselves and once again waited for some time, listening to the sounds around them.

"Now we take you one by one, walk carefully and follow your guide. Remember that he's got a prod". Charlie heard one of the others get up, his chains clanging. Some minutes later his neighbour rose to be led away. Shortly after, his neck rope was loosened and a hand on his arm yanked him up. He shuffled about fifty steps along the planking. "Careful now". The hand turned him to the left. "A short step forward". His toes hit an obstacle. "Raise your foot as high as you can, there's one step up". He stumbled, but the firm grip on his arm steadied him. "Now five steps down". He felt his way down a flight of narrow steps and found planks under his feet again. His guide led him forward and the floor moved slightly. 'A ship', he guessed and almost tried wrestling free, but caught himself. 'No use, chained like this, and with that prod'. "We'll take over from here, mate". A new voice, but still with the metallic distortion. Another hand grabbed his arm and led him on. "Ten steps down". He banged his brow on the way. "That should teach you to keep your head down", the voice sneered, and he was led along what seemed a narrow corridor. "Last step, up". He raised his foot and sensed that he passed through a doorway. "Stop and kneel". He was forced down and felt a new shackle closing around his right ankle, then heard the guide walk away. There was at least one other person in the room, but none of them said anything. The guide returned three times, telling a new arrival to kneel. At last Charlie's handcuffs were removed and he could rub his wrists. "Take off your hoods when you hear the door closing. You may talk, but take care of what you say. There's a loo behind the other door, with a shower, use that. You can drink from the tap and there's some food in the cupboard". The door was closed and bolts rammed home.

Charlie clawed at the noose to tear it and the hood from his head. Even the dim light blinded him and he had to blink a couple of times before taking stock of his surroundings. Six bunks, three on top of each other along the walls took up most of the space in the small room. Another five naked men were kneeling on the wooden floor beside him, one of them removing his hood to reveal a black face. "Hello there, I'm Fred". "Charlie". The next man freed his head. "Jim". "Hi". He was big and muscular, almost as tall as Charlie. "Hey, get those hoods off, guys", he called to the other three, turning to help the man beside him. Fred rose from his knees and looked around, then down at his feet. Like the others, his ankles were still cuffed and hobbled, and a chain ran from a second cuff on his right ankle to a ringbolt. Charlie got up and rattled his own chains. "We're not going very far just now", he tried joking. "Guess not". His new fellow nodded to the last three men. "Hello again. I'm Fred". An extremely handsome man, who looked a bit older than the rest, introduced himself, "Eddie", while another, of about his own age, Charlie guessed, actually offered his hand. "Ben". The sixth man, whose swarthy complexion revealed his ancestry looked shyly at the others, but kept silent. The black man shuffled to him and grabbed his hand. "And you are?" "Fernando, Sir". "I don't think there are any 'Sirs' around here, just a bunch of captives".

Jim sat down on one of the lower bunks. "Let's get comfy and expand the introductions". The others chose seats beside and opposite him. "OK, I'm shocked, angry, and bloody helpless and guess it's about the same with you, so let's forget about that for a moment and try to restore some sort of normality in this crazy place. I'm Jim, like I said, Jim Butler, thirty years old and married". He looked away, swallowing hard. "My wife's name's Mary. I don't know what may have happened to her. We went to bed one night, don't know when, and next thing I woke up in a dark cell. They blasted me a couple of times, the bastards, until I did as told. That's about it, only I suppose they took Mary as well". "Same story with me". The handsome man took over. "I'm Eddie Johnson, thirty-two, married to Ann. Went to bed in our apartment, woke up in a cell, blasted. You know the rest". "And me", the black man continued, "Fred Lyons, married to Pat. Bed, cell, blast, chains, here. Oh, and I'm twenty-nine". Jim looked at the other bunk. "You seem a bit younger than us". "Nineteen. Charlie Morton. Rosie and I, Rosie's my girlfriend, had been at a disco and were on our way home when everything suddenly went blank and I woke up in one of the cells". "Same age, Ben Sorenson". The other teenager looked defiant. "Me and Liz were kind of cuddling in my car when two men attacked us. Sprayed something into my face and that's the last I remember, before the cell". "Sprayed?" "Yeah, some kind of gas, I think". "Same with Rosie and me. It must have been powerful and instant. I had no chance to fight". Charlie clenched his fists. "Course not, don't blame yourself, man", Fred assured him. "I, we". He looked at the other two on his bunk. "We didn't even wake up". "Excuse, Sir". The wiry Hispanic coughed politely. "It is gas. My Maria and me, we wake up and see two men come from the house. The mistress and master is away and we think they is thief. We try hide, but they see us and spray from can and we go to sleep. Wake up in cell". "Yeah, and you're Fernando what?" Jim asked. "Alvarez, Sir. I is twenty years and my Maria is married a year. We come work with house and garden". Jim nodded. "OK, let's have a look around. It seems that the chain is long enough". He got up to open the narrow door at the end of the room to reveal a small bathroom, with a sink, a lavatory and a showerhead on the wall beside it. "Huh, at least we can clean up a bit". "Yeah", Eddie agreed, "Let's hit the shower. I don't remember being as dirty as I am just now. Least not since I was a kid".

Ben got up as well, but went to the other door and pressed his ear to it. "Hey, I can hear someone moving outside". "Probably one of those guys guarding us". "No, there's more than one and I can hear chains". Fred joined him. "Yeah, you're right, could be our girls. Least I hope so". "Hope so?" Ben stared at him. "Yeah, at least they're not...". "Shit, man, you mean... Fucking bastards!" He banged the door. "Hey, lemme out!" Fred grabbed his hand. "Stop that. You'll only hurt yourself". "Bastards!", the teenager mumbled and grabbed the chain anchoring him to the floor. "Hey, if we haul on these, all of us, maybe we can break them or tear them out". "I strongly advise you not to try". A voice came from a hidden loudspeaker. "Firstly because your can't break free, secondly because there are armed guards outside, and thirdly because it would make us very angry, and some other passengers might get hurt. I don't think you'd like that". All of them looked up and stood still, but heard nothing more. "OK, he did warn us to be careful of what we say". Eddie lowered his voice to an almost imperceptible whisper. "But now we know. They've got our girls". "Yeah, for what?" Ben sank down to the floor and buried his face in his hands. The older man crouched beside him to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We don't know, do we, but at least they're alive, and so are we. There's always hope".

Pat heard the door close and the bolts shot home, and raised her hands to remove the rope around her neck and the hood. She'd heard the girl, who was next in line when they were marched from the cell building, sobbing uncontrollably and felt her body trembling against her own while they were waiting on the bench. The hood came off and she turned to the crying girl. 'God! She can't be older than sixteen', she thought and grabbed her noose to loosen it. "No, no, leave me alone! Why are you doing this to me? I want to go home!" Pat quickly revealed a delicate face, crowned with a mane of brown curls. The girl's eyes and cheeks were red and puffy, tears seeping from under her tightly closed eyelids, and her hair matted with sweat. Pat stroked her cheek with the back of her hand and she recoiled violently from the soft touch, screaming and babbling incoherently. The older woman slapped her left cheek, hard, backslapped the other and the left again. The screaming stopped and the girl collapsed on the floor. "You bitch! Why did you do that?" One of the other prisoners had got her hood off and stared angrily at Pat. "Because she was going into hysterics, could end up completely catatonic". She bowed over the sobbing teenager and grabbed her shoulders to drag her onto her lap, cradling her gently. "Hush, dear. It'll be all right". She looked up at the blonde woman. "I'm a nurse. I know what I'm doing". "Sorry". She got back a sheepish grin. "I'm Ann". "Pat. Could you help the others?" Another three naked females were on their knees beside them, but made no attempt to remove their neck ropes or hoods. Ann turned to her neighbour. "Come on, love, no need to hide yourself". She freed a delicate face with dark, slanting eyes. "Lovely, aren't you?" She gave her a quick peck on the cheek and scuttled to the next girl. "I can manage", came a surprisingly calm voice. The blonde nodded and moved to the brown body beside her.

In the next cabin Mary Butler had removed her hood almost before the door closed behind their jailer and looked around to see five naked women beside her. All of them were tearing at their neck ropes and hoods and five dishevelled heads appeared one after other. "Did he say something about a loo?" A dark face turned frantically from side to side, spotting the narrow door at the end of the room. Its owner jumped up and her incredibly long legs brought her to it in a few short strides, ankle chains rattling along the floor. She flung open the door and fell down on the toilet bowl. Fractions of a second later the others heard splashing and a relieved moan. "Gosh, that was close. Aah!" The blonde girl beside Mary turned, grinning hugely, and offered her hand. "Guess it was. Hi, I'm Liz". "Mary". "Sorry about that, girls". The brown beauty rose, looking somewhat sheepishly at her fellow captives. "You know how it is". "Sure, and I'd better take your place". Another blonde long legged girl hurried to the bathroom. "Chris", she said and sat down to let loose her stream. A fifth girl, with raven black short hair and an almost flat chest, rose. "She's always like that. I'm Millie". The last naked girl was still on her knees, looking shyly at the others. "Hi there, what's your name?" Millie offered her hand. "Maria, Miss Millie". "Just Millie". The brown girl wiped her crotch and washed her hands in the small sink before returning to sit down on one of the lower bunks. "Whew! I'm Rosie. Boy, am I glad to see you. I've been locked up in the dark for weeks, but I guess it's the same with you". Mary sat down beside her. "Not weeks, a few days, I think, but it's hard to keep track when you never see daylight". "Guess you're right, days it was. At least three. God, it's nice to be out of there. They electrocuted you?" "Twice". Chris left the bathroom. "Dumb blonde, that's me". She sat down on the other bunk and rattled her ankle chains. "Feels kind of funny". Millie stared at her. "Chris, you're too much. Is that all you have to offer?" "Well, I could say how nice it is to see your cute face again, darling, but what else is there to tell. I mean, we've been kidnapped, locked up, kept naked, tortured, brought here in chains, to a ship if I guess right, and are on our way to God knows where, and what. Any of you been raped yet?" "Chris!" "Don't you 'Chris' me, Millie. That's what we must expect and you know it, so why not face it?" "How old are you, Chris?" Mary asked. "Seventeen, why?" "You're remarkably calm". "No, I'm scared shitless, but I won't show it to those bastards". "That's the spirit", Rosie confirmed, "Never give up, never give in". The blonde girl nodded. "Sure. You a runner?" She looked at the muscular brown legs. "Yeah, you too?" "Just cheerleader, too lazy to use these for some real work". Chris looked down at her own long legs. "Well". Mary rose. "I don't know about you girls, but I've never felt as dirty as I do now. How about trying out the shower?"

"So, dear, nice and clean again". Pat finished drying the teenager and with an arm around her shoulders gently led her back to the cabin. "Now lie down to rest". The girl mutely allowed the nurse to place her on her back and cover her with blankets. She lay staring at the bottom of the bunk above for a moment, then closed her eyes. Seconds later her breathing revealed that she was asleep. Pat sighed with relief and looked at the four naked women on the opposite bunk. "God, that was close", she whispered, "I think she'll be OK now. Why don't you shower? I'll take the last turn. Hope there's enough hot water". "OK". The stunningly beautiful blonde turned to the petite girl beside her. "You go first, dear". The Asian nodded and padded to the bathroom, closing the door as far as her ankle chain allowed. "Right. I'm Pat Lyons, qualified nurse and married. My husband's a computer engineer, Fred. I don't know what happened to us. We went to bed one night and the next I remember is waking up in that awful dark room". "Same with us. I'm Ann, married to Eddie Johnson. Both of us work as models. Clothes", she added hastily, "Advertisements". "You're about my age, I think. I'm twenty-seven". "Two years older, but you are much younger, dears?", Ann asked he two girls huddled close together beside her. One of them nodded. "Nineteen. I'm Janet Smythe and Kal, Kalia Pathee, is my roommate. We, they must have done the same to us, drugged us in our sleep, I mean". "Bastards, but clever bastards, to get away with it". "What, what'll happen to us?" The Indian was on the verge of tears. "I don't know", Pat answered with a glance at the girl beside her to ensure that she was still asleep, "But I can guess, and I don't think there's any reason to lie to you". "Nope", Ann confirmed. "Better face it than try pushing it away. We can just as well begin to adjust". "Adjust to what?" "Aw, Kal, you're not that dumb. Why would anyone kidnap six beautiful girls, strip them naked, scare them shitless and chain them up on a boat?" Her friend shook her head. "No!" "Yes, Kal, and don't you dare panic now. Think of those two poor kids". The Indian closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I'll try, but I'm not sure I can". "Course you can. Lotus position, deep breaths, use your training. Come on". Janet sent the older women a grim smile, hauled her friend down to the floor and forced her to take up the position, then sat down beside her. "Together now, in and out, in and out". Ann gave a thumbs up sign to Pat and went to the bathroom.

"Gosh, aren't we just beautiful? What a haul for those bastards". Chris grinned to the five other naked women. "You think they're selling us to some Arabs?" "Chris!", her friend protested. "They might", Rosie answered calmly. "But I've heard about some other mysterious abductions. People suddenly disappearing without a trace until their families receive a letter from them, telling that they're OK and will come back one day, but without further explanations. And they did come back, at least the two I've heard about, but never told what happened to them". "You're positive?" "Yes, one of them is a close friend of one of my colleagues. She was upset when she disappeared, and there was a fuss, but it died down when the letter came, or letters, I think there were more than one, and then suddenly she was back". "Unharmed?" "Not entirely, I don't think. The point is that she did come back and got her life together again. The last I heard was that she got married". "For how long was she gone?" "I don't remember exactly, but I think about two years". "And she never told anything?" "Not a word to anyone, as far as I know". "Strange, maybe she was brainwashed". "Perhaps. Anyway, let's just hope it's the same guys who've taken us, but just now I'm starving". "Me too". Chris looked into the cupboard. "It's the same shit we had in the cells". She showed some plastic bags with a grey powder. "Just add water, I guess. Well, well, at least it didn't taste too bad. Didn't taste of anything, really".

The distinguished looking elderly man opened the last folder to study the text sheet inside, then looked closely at the photos. The first showed a naked young woman stretched out on a table. Her eyes were closed and she seemed asleep. The next was a close-up of her face, crowned with blonde hair. Another depicted her full breasts, firm and not sagging, even if their owner was on her back. The nipples were dark brown, with very large aureoles. On the fourth her legs were spread and the sex openly displayed. Her crotch was hairless and her labia lips well defined, topped by a clearly protruding clit. The last two showed her straight and flawless back, a firm, rounded arse, and slim legs with slender feet and long toes. "An excellent shipment, Giorgio. I am very satisfied". He looked up at the young dark haired man sitting in front of his desk. "Thank you, Sir. Sorry about the fuck-up with the last catch". "No need for excuses. I understand that the couple, I wanted, was involved in a road accident that same night and ended up in hospital, but their substitutes will do very well, even if they are a bit different from the others. Some clients will find them refreshing and if not, we can always use extra servants". He nodded to the young man. "As I said, I am highly satisfied. I shall express that to your father". "Thank you, Sir". "This was the second delivery of which you have been in charge, I believe?" "Yes, Sir. I assisted my uncle on one before that". "Quite, and I think it about time that you learn about the outcome of your excellent work, see the other end of the line, so to speak". "Yes, Sir?" The young man looked expectantly at him. "If you can spare the time for it, you may stay here until the new shipment arrives, as my guest". "Thank you, Sir. I'll be honoured". "And pick some of the slaves to play with, of course. Enjoy the pleasures of my paying guests". "Thank you, Sir. That little brunette from the last haul?" The older man looked a computer screen. "I am afraid not. She is at present serving a regular client. It seems that he cannot have enough of her". "No wonder. So young and fresh". "I suppose so, even if she is not quite so fresh any longer". "Then the blonde dancer with the big tits?" "Yes, she is available. I shall tell Reception to assign a suite for you and send her there".

"Yes, Sir, the Director just called. Please follow me, Sir". The receptionist left the counter and went towards the lift. Giorgio looked hungrily at her bare buttocks while she walked in front of him across the marble floor. She was nearly naked, only a flimsy apron, made of transparent silk and fastened around her slim waist by a thin golden chain, covered her front from hips to bare feet. A golden leather collar encircled her long neck and she wore similar leather bands on wrists and ankles. Her breasts were bare and her shaven crotch clearly visible. She opened the door to the lift and stood aside to let him enter, stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor, then knelt at his feet with her hands clasped behind her back and bowed her head. When the lift stopped, she remained on her knees until Giorgio went out to the thickly carpeted corridor, then rose gracefully and preceded him to a door almost at its end and opened it for him. "Your suite, Sir". He nodded and entered a sitting room, comfortably furnished with low chairs and tables, a desk and a big TV and stereo rack. The far wall was one great window, opening to a balcony where a glass railing did nothing to obstruct the magnificent view over a glittering blue bay, encircled by two headlands, overgrown with lush greenery and sloping down to the white sands of their beaches. The girl moved silently to open a door. "Your bedroom, Sir, and bathroom". He strode in to see a large double bed, another couple of armchairs and a second TV. A half open door offered a glimpse of a luxurious bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub.

"Nice, very nice". "Thank you, Sir. Would you want me to introduce you to the special equipment, Sir". "Sure". "Thank you, Sir". She went to the head of the bed and grabbed a small ring in one of the bedposts. It came loose to draw out a light chain. "This snaps onto your slave's wrist or ankle restraints, Sir". She clipped it to her own wrist. "There's one in each post. Very convenient if your want her spread on the bed, Sir. You press this button to stretch her". She snapped it off and let it slide back. "These are for anchoring ropes, Sir". She raised the bedspread to show a number of hooks embedded in the frame and pointed to another row in the ceiling. "Okee". "And there are snap-locks for her ankles here, Sir". She knelt at the foot of the bed to show them. "If you should like her bent over the railing. And over here, Sir". She went to a section of the wall covered in dark wood. "You press this button and have another position for her". Two chains dropped from the top of the panel and another pair on the floor. "This button gives you the hanging shackles". They descended from the ceiling. "There are two slits in the carpet beneath them, Sir, with the ankle chains. Just turn the buttons clockwise to have her well stretched or raised". "Fine!" "A special feature, Sir, which amuses many of our clients. The trapeze". She pressed another button and an iron bar emerged beside the shackles. "You lower it". The bar reached the floor. "Place it behind her knees, tie or cuff her hands in front of her shins and haul her up. This position gives easy access to all of her orifices and is very convenient for whipping her arse or the soles of her feet". "Yess!" He felt his cock stirring. "And if it should please you to keep her more steady while taking her from behind or whipping her back or breasts, you may use this, Sir". She pressed yet another button and the panel parted to let a strong beam appear. Two legs spread automatically at its front end to form a sawhorse. "If you make her straddle it, she'll be most uncomfortable, Sir". Her hand slid along the sharp edge. "If she's facing the wall, with her hands cuffed to it or on her back, her anus is well placed for your use, Sir, and you may enjoy her screams when her labia is split by the beam". She shuddered, but calmly continued the instruction. "This button gives you the stocks, Sir. Very convenient when flogging her back or just store her". Another panel opened and a metal contraption was unfolded. Its top beam had holes in the middle and on each side to trap a victim's neck and wrists, and two rods at an angle to it on the floor had similar fastenings for ankles. "In here". She opened a panel. "You'll find a selection of whips, floggers, paddles and canes, as well as nipple clamps, alligator or adjustable, labia clips, clothes pins, spreader bars, and a set of portable stocks for her hands and feet". She presented a metal rod with four curved spaces. "Very popular among clients. It can be used with her hands in front or behind to keep her locked in various positions, sitting, kneeling, on her back or standing. There's a supply of ropes and chains, and differently sized butt-plugs and dildos, double and vibrating as it may please you. There are various gags if you don't want to hear her scream, and blindfolds if you prefer not to see her eyes, Sir".

"Very good". "Thank you, Sir". She closed the panel again to make the different objects disappear. "If you want to use more advanced equipment, such as a rack or a wheel or place her in a cage, it may please you to use the dungeon, Sir. Your slavegirl will be happy to show you where and how. If you wish to enjoy the cool of the evening, she'll show you pegs on the beach to spread her or chains to tie her to a tree or hang her from a branch, Sir". "Yess". His eyes were gleaming with lust. "She'll of course be available to you in any way you wish, Sir, but sexual use of her must be restricted to your suite, apart from occasional fondling of her body". "Not even in the dungeon?" "No, Sir. The Director doesn't want the island turned into a permanent orgy. She's also trained to serve as a housemaid. There's a well stocked bar in your sitting room and the kitchen can provide almost any kind of snacks or meals. Your slave will show you what other facilities the resort has on offer, such as lounge, bar, restaurant, gym, swimming pools, tennis courts, and golf course, and serve you there as well. She'll be available to you throughout your stay, but the actual slave will change every twelve hours. The use of two slaves is included in each period of twenty-four hours". "I can't have the same girl for more than twelve hours?" "No, Sir. You can get her back after another twelve hours, but all slaves must have a rest between sessions". "Ah, well, that's reasonable, I guess, or they'll be worn out all too soon". "Yes, Sir, and most clients do appreciate the change. An exhausted slave is not much fun, Sir". "No, I see the point, but I asked for a specific girl". "Yes, Sir, and she's in your sitting room. A guard will fetch her in twelve hours, if you haven't dismissed her earlier. She can show you our range of available slaves on the closed circuit channel. There's a binder at your desk, with detailed descriptions of all of our slaves. If you see one of them somewhere on the premises, you're of course welcome to inspect her, if she's not serving another client. She'll be happy to show what she has to offer. Please observe that slaves wearing golden collars are not available, and that you may not use a slave intimately unless she's actually serving you". "OK, but then I can do anything to her?" "Almost anything, Sir. Whipping and similar hard use must be restricted to your private premises or the dungeon and kept within the limits stated in the rules of the resort.". "OK, I'm not that fond of hurting girls, just want a bit of fun". "Yes, Sir, and I hope you'll be satisfied. If not, please ask for a replacement and state the reason for your complaint". "OK, any other rules?" "There's an information folder in the desk, Sir. Clients are encouraged to study it, but I've mentioned the most important parts, except that clients are not allowed to enter the slave camp, which is clearly marked by a fence and has only one entrance, with a guard". "And if I break the rules, I'll be expelled?" "Yes, Sir. The Director has set them up to ensure that all of our guests have a pleasant stay and enforces them very firmly".

"OK. You said she's in here?" Giorgio returned to the sitting room and stopped abruptly. A young woman was in front of the window, displaying herself, hands clasped behind her head and legs spread. She was dressed in a long skirt made of the same white, transparent silk as the receptionist's apron, fastened low on her hips with a chain and slit to the waist front and back and along her legs, and a sleeveless top made of the same material, covering her from shoulders to just below her breasts. With her back to the window, the garments did nothing to hide her body, only enhanced its charms. Like the receptionist, she was wearing a collar, wrist and ankle straps, but made of white leather. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back almost to the waist and her eyes were demurely lowered. "Jackie, Sir, as ordered. Her speciality is masturbating you with her feet. Many clients find that amusing. She's a very good erotic show dancer, if you want to build up your expectations or revive yourself, Sir". "Excellent!" "Thank you, Sir. Do you have further questions before I leave you to enjoy her?" "Well, yes, a few about this place". "Yes, Sir. Would it please you to be served a refreshment, Sir". "Sure. Gin and tonic". "Yes, Sir". The receptionist opened a wall cabinet to reveal the promised bar and began mixing his drink, while Giorgio took a closer look at the half-naked girl. He went around her, licking his lips at the sight of her well shaped arse, and fondled her D-cup breasts through the flimsy silk. She neither moved, nor raised her eyes. "Your drink, Sir". The receptionist knelt beside an armchair. "Thanks. Dance, girl". "Yes, Sir". The blonde began moving her arms and rocking her hips.

He sat down and accepted the offered drink, watching the dancing girl intensely. She slowly increased her movements, still rooted to the same spot, and he was fascinated to see her shake her breasts, rotate her hips and make ripples in her belly. "Shit!", he whispered and took a large sip, then noticed the other girl. "Ah, yes. What's the price of staying here?" "Two thousand US dollars for the first twenty-four hours. That includes transport from the mainland, a one-bedroom suite like this, all meals and beverages, use of the facilities the island can offer. Ensuing periods of twenty-four hours cost $1.000. Each term with the free use of a slave, Sir". "Two actually, but could I have more?" He was still watching the dancing slavegirl. She rose on tiptoe and did a slow pirouette. "Yes, Sir. The charge for an additional slave is a further $500 for twelve hours' service, $200 for shorter terms up until three hours". "Do people hire more than one?" "Often, Sir. Some clients find positioning and whipping a slave tiring and hire another to do the work, often a male slave, or find it refreshing to have a choice between slaves". The dancer turned her back to him, spread her legs and bent almost double. Her hips rotated and her arsecheeks shook, making the skirt part to offer him glimpses of her narrow hole, while her breasts danced between her legs. He could hardly contain himself, but took another sip. "How many slaves are there?" "About 150, Sir, a third male". "So many. You must have a lot of guards to control them, especially the men". "No, Sir. There's no need for control, all slaves perform willingly. We have guards for security and for monitoring the clients". "Willingly, but...". He caught himself. "I see, and how many clients?" "We have fifty suites, Sir, but rarely more than about thirty clients staying at one time". "So only one sixth of the slaves are working. What do they do when not serving a client?" "Some clients use more than one slave at a time, as I said. But all slaves have twelve-hour shifts, if they're not the property of an owner. When not actually serving a client during work shifts, they perform other tasks, as maids, gardeners, serve in the restaurant, man reception. Slaves do all manual work at the island, Sir". "And the rest of their time. When not working, I mean?" "Slaves are free to spend it as they wish, mostly sleeping, Sir, but they work out regularly. To stay fit is important for their performance". "Of course, very clever, but you said something about slaves who're not available?"

The dancing slavegirl had turned again and was slowly raising the top to reveal her breasts. "Some clients prefer owning their slaves, instead of renting them, Sir". "They buy them?" "Yes, Sir. Clients may reserve the exclusive service of a slave for six months". "So owned slaves have no rest periods?" "No, Sir, but owners are encouraged to be careful and considerate. Owned slaves are often allowed free time and the owners seldom stay for extended periods. They mostly come for weekends or for a week or two. When their owners are not present, owned slaves may work ordinary shifts, but are not available to other clients and therefore marked by golden collars. Such work pay for their upkeep". The slavegirl had removed the top and were caressing her breasts, squeezing them and offering them to him, while still dancing slowly. "How much would I have to pay for a slave?" "It varies, Sir, they're priced by the Director. Some girls can cost as much as $50.000". "Fifty grand, for six months!" "Yes, Sir, but many slaves, and most of the males, sell for $10.000 to $20.000. The cost of accommodation must be added of course, $500 per day for a suite without the service of a slave. Some owners want to be sure to enjoy their owned slave at any time and therefore pay for a permanent suite. In that case the slave may stay there in her owner's absence and doesn't have to work for her upkeep". "Whew, some of those guys must be filthy rich!" "Yes, Sir". "And a slave can be sold twice a year! We're talking real money here". "Yes, Sir". "How many slaves are owned?" "Normally between twenty and thirty, mostly females". He eyed her golden collar. "I can see that you are". "Yes, Sir. My mistress arrives tomorrow". "Your mistress?" "Yes, Sir". "So there are lesbians here?" "Clients have various preferences, Sir". "Faggots too". "We have male clients who prefer male slaves, Sir". He emptied his glass and watched the slavegirl remove her skirt. "Well, it's about time I enjoyed my dancing girl, I guess. Thanks for the information". "I'm happy to have served you well, Sir". The receptionist rose gracefully, sent her fellow slave a smile and left without a sound.

"Hey, they're starting the engine". Charlie cocked his head. "Very clever", came the voice from the loudspeaker. "We're just about to sail. The trip will take two or three days, probably three, because we're running into bad weather sometime tomorrow afternoon. Unless you're used to sailing, you better eat well tonight and tomorrow morning, but take nothing but water after that. When you feel the boat beginning to rock, piss and shit all you can and lie down on your bunks". "Thanks a lot, and if the boat goes down?", Ben called. "You go with it, so pray". The loudspeaker clicked off and the six men looked gloomily at each other.

"You're a damn good fuck". Giorgio withdrew from the girl's slippery tunnel. "How come you're so narrow. I mean, you must have had a lot of cock up there". Jackie, who was chained spread-eagle on the bed, raised her head. "We train our vaginal muscles, Sir". "Is your arse just as good?" "Other clients have kindly said so, Sir". "Looking forward to it, then, but just now I need a drink". He reached for her right wrist to unclip the chain. "Can you free yourself, I've got to piss". "Yes, Sir. What may I serve you". "You got champagne?" "Yes, Sir. Do you have a favourite brand, Sir?" "No, just as long as it's not too dry". "Yes, Sir". He disappeared into the bathroom and she quickly freed her other hand and her feet, rose wearily and swept the soiled sheet off the bed. She used it to wipe her crotch, grimacing with disgust, bundled it into a wall cabinet, spread a fresh one, shook the pillows and hurried to the sitting room. When the Italian came back he found his slavegirl on her knees beside the bed, an opened bottle of champagne in a cooler on the bedside table and a sparkling glass in her hand. He sank down on the bed and accepted it. The naked beauty carefully arranged the pillows behind his back and sank down to sit on her heels, hands behind her back, legs spread to show her shaven crotch, and eyes downcast. He took a sip, nodding appreciatively. "Are you allowed to drink with the clients?" "If they may wish so, Sir". "Would you like a glass?" "If it may please you, Sir". "It does, you've earned it. Get one". "Yes, Sir". When she came back to top up his glass and fill her own; he asked her to sit at the foot of the bed and toasted her. She took a small sip and lowered her eyes. "The other girl said that you do this willingly?" "Yes, Sir". "So you're a whore?" "If it may please you, Sir". "And you like it?" "I'm happy to serve well, Sir". 'Damn, he's fantastic, that guy', he thought, 'Wonder what he does to them. Three months ago she was a happy little dancer back in the big city'. He looked at her shapely feet. "She said you're good with those cute little toes". "Do you want me to please you with them, Sir?" "Sure, go ahead". He spread his legs and she sat up between them to catch his limp member between the balls of her feet and begin a gentle rubbing. He let his head drop back on the pillow to enjoy her ministrations.

The boat shook violently when a new wave smashed into its bow. Pat clutched Caroline's small body closer and prayed. Hours later she heard the loudspeaker. "We're through the worst. Catch some sleep, we'll arrive in about ten hours".

Part 2. Slave-training.

"Arriving in one hour". The young girl stirred in Pat's arms. "Thank you for keeping me safe". "You feel better?" "Yes, but I'm so scared". "So are the rest of us, but we'll get through this together". "They'll rape us, won't they?" "I don't know, but I think so". "I, I've never... Is it very bad?" "It can be, dear, the first time, but you'll survive. It's what we women have to endure". "I know, but I never thought...". "Of course not, but you won't be seriously harmed, even if it may seem so when it happens. Just never forget who you are, a strong girl". "I'm not strong!" "Yes, you are. Girls are strong, much stronger than men. We're just told otherwise and pretend to be fragile little brainless things, but we are not, you are not, Caroline". "Noo...". "Will you promise me that?" "I'll try... No, I promise". "That's the spirit, dear".

"We've arrived. Get on your knees, put your hoods back on and keep your hands behind your backs. Don't move until ordered. If you do or try to fight, you'll feel the prod, and your girls too". "Bastards!", Ben hissed under his breath when he knelt down beside his fellows. A few minutes later they heard the door open and the procedure of their boarding the boat was reversed. The two youngsters contained themselves with an effort and shuffled along with the other men until they entered a building and were ordered to sit down on a bench. They waited for some time before their nooses and hoods were removed and they saw three men, apparently Latin-Americans, in front of them, brandishing long sticks. "You know the effect of these, I think", one of them stated, "So don't give us any trouble. You'll shortly be examined by a doctor and prior to that, you swallow these pills". He stood in front of Jim with a tray. "At least tell us what it is". "Something against tropical diseases". The big man looked dubiously at the three differently coloured, fairly large pills, but opened his mouth and swallowed them with the drink of water he was offered. The five others followed his lead. "Good, now you wait for the nurse. Keep your traps shut". About half an hour later, a woman in a lab coat, but barefoot and with a white leather collar buckled around her neck and similar wrist and ankle bands, entered to measure their blood pressure, seemingly unperturbed by handling six naked men, chained hand and foot. "Now a blood sample". She gave them a friendly smile and proceeded to sink a needle into their right arms. Ben was about to speak, but saw one of the guards approaching with his stick and shut his mouth again. The nurse left and after another period of waiting, one of the guards told Jim to get up and led him through a door. In the next room an elderly man was busy adjusting what looked like an X-ray apparatus. "Place your chin in the slot". Jim did as bidden and sensed something done behind his back. "Excellent. Take him away". The guard prodded him through to another room. "Sit down there". He indicated a bench and snapped an iron collar around Jim's neck, chaining him to the wall. Five minutes later Eddie joined him and eventually the rest of the prisoners. They waited again, not daring to speak, until the door was opened and Mary came shuffling in, only to be chained by her neck on another bench at the opposite wall. Jim caught a warning glance and refrained from calling to her, but was relieved of some of his anxiety when he saw her blowing a kiss to him. One by one the remaining eleven naked women were led in and chained. Charlie felt the prod touching his balls when Rosie entered.

The eighteen prisoners waited again, but at last the elderly man, who had X-rayed them, entered and the guards snapped to attention. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to my island paradise. I am the Director, owner and manager of this establishment. I know already that I am a sick bastard, so there is no need telling me that. Please refrain from speaking at all, unless expressly permitted to do so. If you cannot contain yourself, you will be punished, and if one of you men try speaking out of turn, your partner will. There will be a time for questions later". The prisoners limited themselves to looking at him, some with hate, others with fear in their eyes. "Good. You are now under my control, absolute and inescapable control". He paused to look them over. "The three tablets you swallowed an hour ago, were not medicine, but tiny electronic devices. At the X-raying I ascertained their correct positioning and activated them. I shall now demonstrate what they can do to you". He pressed a button on a remote control and all of them felt a sharp stab in their abdomens. "A very mild shock, ladies and gentlemen. Rest assured that the pain can and will be much worse, if necessary. You have three implants, firmly embedded in your guts by a number of small hooks. They do not hurt you, because you have no nerve ends down there, but, as you just felt, one of them is capable of delivering an electric shock which most certainly can be felt in other parts of your body. If you do not behave, not do as told, you will be shocked, if necessary into unconsciousness. All persons of authority on this island have the means to shock any of you, a group of you or all of you simultaneously. The second electronic device inside you is a transmitter, connecting to a satellite. It will reveal your position in any part of the world within fifty yards. If you leave this island without permission, it will automatically activate the third device, which will inject a very deadly, and, I may add, very painful poison into you, and then destroy itself and the two other devices".

The Director paused, once again scrutinising his captives. "I hope that you have understood what I just told you. The purpose of these implants should be obvious. You are my prisoners and slaves. You cannot leave my island without permission and you must do as told, or suffer the consequences. Some of you may already be contemplating rebellion, overpowering the guards, who, as you will discover, are far outnumbered by you slaves, and myself, and secure the controls. That is not possible. A guard boat is patrolling the island, day and night. Partly to prevent any unwanted landings, partly as an insurance against a slave revolt. The boat, boats rather, there are two alternating, is of course always outside the perimeter set up by the electronic control system. You cannot reach it without activating the poison device, and the boats change watches at sea. They are connected to the extensive surveillance system of the island. A rebellion or just the start of a rebellion, a few guards knocked down, will be discovered at once and all slaves struck down, in severe pain. A failsafe system, which places you in a hopeless position, while it makes me rich and able to live a life in luxury". He paused to look at each of them in turn. "But it has advantages for you as well as for me. Some of you may have heard about or read stories about criminals who capture and enslave other people, often on an island like this. They are true. There are other places where slaves are held captive and forced to perform various tasks for a rich clientele. And I mean forced, chained, whipped, terrified into submission, used until they are worn out and then killed, because they cannot be allowed to live to tell about their ordeal. I do not treat my slaves like that. I do not have to".

"Please hear me out, Mr. Sorenson". He sent Ben a sharp glance. "I will keep you here for a period of at least two years". Several of the captives gasped. "It may seem a long time, but all of you are young, with most of your life in front of you and you will not be deprived of that". He looked gravely at them again. "You may not believe me, but it is not necessary to dispose of you to keep my business secret. When you have finished your term, you will be taken back to the mainland and set free. The ship, that brought you here, is just now on its way back with fifteen released slaves. But neither they, nor you, will tell about your time spent here, especially not to the authorities". Charlie snorted. "No, Mr. Morton, you will not. You are clever enough to realise that I have many resources, your smooth abduction is proof of that, and that I would be informed if any of my former slaves approached the police. If that should happen, I will activate the devices inside, not only that particular person, but all of my present and freed slaves. You would be responsible for the deaths of a great many people". Jim nodded with a grim smile. "Quite, Mr. Butler. I 'am' a clever devil, and, believe me, completely ruthless, if my hand is forced. You may think that you can have the devices removed by surgery. That is not possible. The necessary preliminary scanning of your intestines will activate them. I really have invented a foolproof system and it has never failed me. I have been in business for five years by now and I receive a shipment of fifteen to twenty fresh slaves every three months, who are released after two years. That means that more than 200 former slaves are now back in their normal lives. They may have told a few family members or close friends about their time here and word may have spread further, but the secret has been kept, and 'will' be kept".

"Back to your stay here. It will be hard for you, some of the time, but not unbearable. Your implants will ensure that. There is no need to keep you in chains, because you cannot escape, no need to use torture to persuade you to do what you have to do. A touch of a button will remind you of your duty. This means that you can enjoy a measure of freedom". Charlie snorted again and all of them gasped and jumped in their neck chains when a vicious stab hit them. "Please behave, Mr. Morton. Freedom, yes. This island is divided into two parts. The most important is a luxury resort for people who can afford a stay here. They are provided with all the usual holiday entertainment, but of course they come here to enjoy our unique feature, the service of a willing slave, or slaves. The other part is the slave camp, where you will stay when not serving. Your days will be divided between working hours and spare time, just as in your previous lives. You are free to do what you like in your spare time. Camp facilities include means for entertainment and physical training. At work, your main task is of course serving clients, but you will have menial tasks as well, such as cleaning, serving at table, tending the grounds, everything necessary to run a luxury hotel. You will serve clients, but not every day. That service is of course sexual, but of a nature most people consider advanced or depraved. Ordinary sex can be bought almost anywhere. What we provide is the extraordinary. You will be tied up or chained in painful positions. You will be caned, paddled, whipped on various part of your anatomy. You will have to endure clamps on tender spots of your body. All of your orifices will be used to bring a client satisfaction in every possible way. You will feel humiliated, disgusted, degraded by what you have to do. But you will do it and be able to endure it".

He read hate, disgust and horror in his captives' faces. Some of the younger girls were crying. "Yes, you will and be surprised how soon and how easily you adapt to this new life. I do not pretend that you will like what you have to do, though some of you may, but I know from experience that you will become accustomed to it, without losing your integrity or mental sanity. Your relative freedom is one of the reasons; another is that I do not allow excessive abuse of my slaves. It gives my clients greater satisfaction if they have a cheerful and willing partner in their sex games, not a terrified and broken creature. Clients are carefully vetted, including medical tests to ensure that they are free of venereal diseases, not specifically for your sakes, but to safeguard themselves. They have special needs, but are not mindless sadists. If you serve them well, you may find them quite pleasant. If not, they have the means to make their dissatisfaction felt or they may lodge a complaint. In such cases I alone decide if punishment is justified. Normally an extension of your stay here. The minimum is an extra three months after your two years term has run out. I may decide that physical punishment is more appropriate. That is always one hundred lashes with a rubber hose. It hurts terribly, I am told, but leaves very few permanent marks on your body. Such punishments are performed in the open at the slave quarters for all to see, and are, I may add, extremely rare. No physical punishment has been carried out for more than a year and I have only had to prolong the stay for eleven slaves during my five years in business". He looked at his watch. "Very well, that was the basic information. You will remain here until brought to me for a personal interview. I will answer your questions then. After that you leave for the camp where some of your fellow slaves will provide further information, teach you the rules of this island and train you for your new tasks. I advise you to listen carefully to their instructions. That will make it easier for you to serve satisfactorily and escape punishment. When your tutors inform me that they have finished with you, within three days, I expect, your new life begins in earnest. You will be used often for the first few months. Many of our clients are regulars, who appreciate a fresh slave. And finally, the injection you women had is a long term contraceptive. It will be refreshed regularly". He turned abruptly and left the room.

The captives looked shyly at each other, but dared not speak, and the men forced their eyes away from the twelve naked beauties displayed in front of them. Shortly a fourth guard entered. "Lyons". The black couple identified themselves and were freed of their neck collars and told to follow him. Fred moved close to his wife to kiss her bare shoulder. She smiled, but shook her head warningly, and they shuffled after the guard in their ankle chains, hands still cuffed behind their backs, through the door by which the Director had left and entered a bright room, furnished as an office, the first with windows they had seen in the building. He was seated behind a desk with two open files in front of him and did not look up. "You kneel there". The guard indicated a spot in front of the desk. "Sit back on your heels and bow your heads". Fred felt his anger rising, but followed his wife's example and carefully lowered himself to the floor. They heard rattling of paper and waited for several minutes before the Director spoke. "I shall remind you of the implants. Patricia and Frederick Lyons, once again welcome to my island. You may ask questions, but please try to control your tempers. Of course you are angry, but there is no need to be rude. You address me as 'Sir' or 'Director". Fred raised his head, but his wife spoke before he could open his mouth. "How can you do this?" "Sir, Mrs. Lyons, please. Because I can, because I like dominating other people and because it makes me rich". "How can you ruin innocent people's lives. Don't you have a conscience, any compassion...Sir?" "I do have a conscience, Mrs. Lyons, and I am a very compassionate man, but I do not ruin innocent people's lives". "Drugging a young girl, dragging her away from family and friends, scaring her out of her mind by keeping her naked in a dark cell for days, put her on a boat and bring her to an unknown place to tell that she'll be a sex-slave for a bunch of rich sadists, is that not to ruin her life...Sir?" "Not necessarily, Mrs. Lyons. I do not expect you to agree with or believe me, but all the girls, and men for that matter, who have passed through my hands during these years, have left as stronger persons, capable of handling any challenge in their later life. None of those who have left so far have been traumatised and all of them have, after a short period of recuperation, resumed their former lives without any difficulty. They have established new relationships, quite often with persons they met on this island, other former slaves, found good jobs and generally been successful. I know, because I have them watched for a while to ascertain that they do nothing foolish". "Is it true that you'll let us go?" "Sir, Mrs. Lyons, please remember to address me properly or you will be punished. Yes, it is true". "Provided that we are good slaves... Sir". "You 'will' be good slaves, Mrs. Lyons, there really is no other option open to you, and I am sure that you have already realised that". "Perhaps...Sir, but what about the others? There's a girl of just fifteen, Caroline Summers. She was almost catatonic when I first saw her on that boat". "I know, Mrs. Lyons, but you were capable of handling her, just as I expected. That was why you were in the same cabin". She stared at him. "Yes, Mrs. Lyons. I am a very careful man. I have extensive files on you, covering almost your entire life, even down to intimate physical details and medical records. I know that you are a qualified nurse, specialising in psychiatry. I know that Mr. Lyons is a computer engineer. Both of you will make use of your professional skills here. I know that you are very level headed, competent persons. That is why I had you brought here, that and of course your physical attraction". "But Caroline is not capable, not of being a sex slave...Sir. She'll break down, and the other child, the tiny Chinese, she was too scared to even speak to us". "They will not, Mrs. Lyons. Miss Soong was not scared, at least not very much. She is a very strong girl for her tender age, but brought up very strictly in the tradition of her parents' home country, where girls are taught to be as unobtrusive as possible, never speak out of turn and be very docile, especially to older people. Miss Soong will become one of my very best slaves. Miss Summers is different and extremely frightened. I admit that. But she will adapt to her new life". "She will break...Sir. She cannot handle being used by different men, night after night". "No, Mrs. Lyons, she can not, and she will not have to. Miss Summers will be my personal slave, serving only me, as my maid and in my bed. She can handle that, may even grow to like it. Her predecessors cried when they had to leave". "From relief, I bet.... Sir", Fred sneered. "Perhaps, Mr. Lyons, but I do not think so. I am a very good lover and my girls will be excellent partners for their future husbands". "So you expect all of us to handle this terrible ordeal calmly, Sir". "I do, Mrs. Lyons. And you do already, do you not?" "I hate it, I hate the mere thought of being raped by some filthy stranger...Sir". "The clients are not filthy, Mrs. Lyons, and please remember to speak politely about them and to them. Of course you are not looking forward to serving them, but that was not my point. You do handle this ordeal calmly, do you not?" "I have no other choice, Sir". "Precisely, and I believe that you will agree that so does Mrs. Johnson?" "Yes, Sir, but...". "I have told you about Miss Soong and you have seen how Miss Smythe and Miss Pathee have helped each other adapt". "Well...". "And if you had been in the other women's cabin, you would have watched all six of them coming to terms with their destiny, even joke about it, with the exception of Mrs. Alvarez, but she was practically a slave already, being born poor and Mexican. The men similarly had small trouble, is that not correct, Mr. Lyons?" "They, we're angry, but of course we can take it...Sir". "Quite. Now enough about this. Do you have further questions?" "What about our flat, Sir?" "Taken care of Mr. Lyons. When we are finished here, you have one further task before the conclusion of your processing. You will be photographed with today's newspaper, in the classical way of kidnappers, and will write a letter to Mrs. Lyons' sister. A standard text will be provided, but you may add a personal touch, without any details about your abduction of course. It will assure your sister that you are alive and well, that you have to go away for a time, that you cannot explain why, but will come back, and ask her not to make too much of a fuss about your disappearance. You will send similar letters and photographs once every three months during you stay. Your rent will be paid and your apartment kept ready for your return by a service company". "Thanks for that, at least...Sir". "No need, Mr. Lyons. You perform better if not worrying about your future. Any other questions?" Pat shook no.

"Very well. You will have many more later, but my older slaves can answer them. Please rise now, I want to have a closer look at you". They struggled to their feet and the Director gestured to the guard, who removed their handcuffs. "You may rub your wrists a bit and then place your hands behind your necks and spread your legs". They did a bidden and hesitatingly got into the revealing positions. The Director went round to look Fred straight in the eyes while fondling his wife's ample, but firm breasts. The dark eyes flashed angrily, but with an effort the novice slave restrained himself. "Yes, Mr. Lyons, it is difficult for you, but you must become used to it". He pinched her large nipples, hard enough to make her whimper. "Very difficult. For you too, Mrs. Lyons. I am afraid that these fine nubbins may cause you some pain. Clients will love to play with them and especially to clamp them". His hands slid down her belly to reach the lavish bush of silky black hair between her legs. "This has to go. All slaves are shaved, for hygienic reasons and to be more accessible to the clients. Turn, please, and bend at the waist". Pat bit her lower lip and prayed that Fred could contain himself when she felt her arsecheeks parted and a finger touching her puckered hole. "Have you ever entered you wife here, Mr. Lyons?" "Yes...Sir", he mumbled through clenched teeth. "I am indeed happy for you, Mrs. Lyons. Most male clients enjoy using a slave's anus and it can be quite painful the first few times, as I suppose you know from previous experience". He crouched to examine her sex, parting the labia lips. "Hmm, you are becoming wet easily, Mrs. Lyons, another relief for you. Some clients tend not to be particularly gentle entering a slave. You may rise and turn again".

When she faced him, he presented his fingers, sticky with her juices, in front of her face. "Rinse them, Mrs. Lyons. This will be a regular duty for you and one of the less strenuous, it is after all only yourself you are tasting". She reluctantly sucked him clean. "Many clients cannot bother to wash when they have used a slave, but expect to be cleaned by mouth. It can be rather unpleasant, especially if he has just used your anus or the anus of another slave". Fred grunted. "Yes, Mr. Lyons. There are very few limits to what clients may demand of you and you will do it all, politely, docilely and willingly". He grabbed his genitals. "Will you not, Mr. Lyons?" "I, yes, damn you, I will, got to, haven't I?" "Mr. Lyons!" The grip on his scrotum tightened and he almost bucked over with pain. "I... I will, Sir. Sorry, Sir". The Director let go and grabbed the black circumcised cock. "Much better, Mr. Lyons, there is no need to be rude". The member grew and he stroked the engorged head. "Is your husband a good lover, Mrs. Lyons?" "Yes, Sir". "Can he hold his juices until you come?" "Yes, Sir". "More than once?" "Yes, Sir. Fred is very considerate and he can fuck me for a long time without shooting". "Very good, Mr. Lyons, very good indeed. Information about our prospects' sexual capabilities is hard to obtain. I may offer you to a regular client, a very nice lady, about forty, with a taste for black lovers. She is, however, very demanding in bed, in need of partners of great endurance. Would you like to be sold for her exclusive use, Mr. Lyons?" "Of course I wouldn't ...Sir. I don't want this at all!" "You will change your mind, Mr. Lyons, once you understand the advantages. Yes, $25.000, perhaps $30.000. Turn around, imitating your wife". Fred gasped when a finger penetrated his arse and almost jumped up to bury his fist in the face he already hated. "Caution, Mr. Lyons, caution". The finger moved around to find his prostate. "Have you had intercourse with another man, Mr. Lyons?" "No... Sir", he moaned and felt his cock rise even further, banging against his stomach. "You may, Mr. Lyons. Will that cause you trouble?" "Of course it will...Sir, but I can take it". "Very good, Mr. Lyons. You may turn again". Fred saw his wife sucking on another dirty finger and cringed at the thought of what she had to swallow. "We are finished for now. Please proceed to the next room. We will meet again after your training". The guard opened the door. "Ah, just one more thing, Mrs. Lyons. I will see Miss Summers next. Will you please wait for her and bring her with you to the slave camp when I have finished with her. My present personal slave will come down shortly to introduce Miss Summers to her duties. A very good girl, Joy, almost seventeen now. I shall miss her". He sighed. "She'll be released, Sir?" "In three months time, yes. I do keep my promises, Mrs. Lyons, even if it is saddening when I have become attached to a slave".

"Fred!" Pat threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him hard. They had been photographed, only their faces and hands shown in the picture, their naked bodies hidden behind a newspaper, and written the letter. A guard had relieved them of their ankle chains, measured their necks, wrists and ankles and fitted them with tight, but not uncomfortable leather bands, white for Pat and black for Fred. After that he sent them outside. "Oh, Fred! What will become of us?" For the first time since their capture she allowed her tears to flow freely. "Hush, my love. We'll survive this, we can and we will". She sobbed and dried her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know, but...". "It'll be bad, my love, but we have each other, we can share the horrors". He pressed her head to his shoulder, whispering: "We've survived worse ordeals". She nodded. "But I'll become a whore. How can anyone love a whore?" "You'll never be a whore. Don't ever be afraid of losing my love, it'll only grow stronger". "Other men willĄ­use me". "And other women, men too, will use me". She looked up at his grave face. "Sorry, Fred, I'll stop now, it was just...". He closed her mouth with a new kiss and they hugged each other, until she with a giggle freed herself. "Now, Mr. Lyons. Since you can't restrain yourself, we've better sit down before this turns into an orgy". He looked sheepishly at his stiff member, bobbing against his stomach and drew her down to sit on the soft grass with their backs to the building, holding hands. "A beautiful place", Pat sighed after a while. Three distant buildings with white walls and red roofs contrasted pleasantly with the green grass and deep blue sea glimpsed between them. "The slave camp, I guess". "Our new home, my love". "Yes", she sighed, "At least it's not a dark cell in a basement. I hope the others are nice". "I'm sure they are. The guys with me on the ship are great". "So are the girls I've met. Do you think he'll keep us naked all the time?" "I can't know, but probably not. The nurse and the photographer are slaves, they were wearing collars, and they were dressed. And even if we are kept naked, we'll get used to it when it's the same for all". "Slaves! You're already referring to us as slaves". "Yeah, damn it!" "Maybe we've better. If you consider yourself a slave, you don't feel guilty if, or when, you have to do something disgusting. You don't blame yourself".

The door was opened and Caroline came out, still naked, but instead of leather restraints she had chains, apparently made of gold, encircling her neck, wrists and ankles. She looked shyly at the couple and tried to hide her breasts and crotch. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Pat jumped to her feet and caught her in a warm embrace. "Don't you cry now, Caroline, it's over". "HeĄ­touched me!" "I know, dear. He touched me too". "But, but down there. He put a finger into me, my thing, and in my, my anus. Oh, God! It was so embarrassing, and he made me suck his finger clean of myĄ­ Augh, it was horrible!" She sobbed loudly. "I know, dear". Pat stroked her hair. "And, and he said that, that he was looking forward to taking my, my virginity. God! He's so old. Older than my dad!" Pat let go of her and took a step back. "Do you remember what you promised me on the boat?" The young teenage girl looked down, shuffling her bare feet. "Yes, I must be strong, but it's hard!" "Hard for all of us, dear, but we are women". Caroline smiled timidly. "And women are strong?" "Yes, dear. Now, meet my husband. Fred, this is Caroline, the strongest teenager in the world". The black man smiled broadly to her and offered his hand. She blushed, but took a deep breath and extended her own, exposing her breasts. "Hello, Mr. Lyons". "Fred, Caroline, just Fred, and please try not to be shy. Around here we're all very natural, it seems". "Yes, butĄ­". "We'll get used to it, and a lot of other things. Now, let's go down to the camp". "Yes, he, the man, the Director, said that your rooms are in building A, on the left". Pat took her hand and sought her husband's with the other.

Close up, the buildings looked quite nice, with canopied windows and surrounded by rosebushes. When the three newcomers approached, a young couple rose from garden chairs beside the entrance. Both were dressed in white shorts and t-shirts, but barefoot and with white and black leather bands. "Hi, there". The woman took a couple of steps towards them. "I'm Jackie". She was stunningly beautiful, with long legs and shining golden hair. Pat offered her hand. "Pat, and this is Caroline, and my husband, Fred". They shook hands and the young man joined them. "Bruce. Welcome to Camp Lucky". He was tall and muscular, with a handsome face. Caroline blushed again and tried to cover herself. "Hey, don't you be shy now. There's no reason to hide your beauty". "Thanks, Bruce, but...". "I know. It's hard the first few days, so let's find some clothes for you".

A corridor ran the length of the building. The floor was uncarpeted hardwood and the walls whitewashed. Doors lined either side. "Twenty-five double rooms", Bruce explained while leading the novices along. "This is yours". He stopped halfway down where a sign announced that this was where Frederick and Patricia Lyons lived. "We've made it ready for you". He opened the door to reveal a simple, but not unpleasant room, with cupboards to the left of the entrance, a door on the right, a bed on either side and at the end, close to the window, two armchairs and a table with a big bowl of fresh flowers. "Bathroom in here". He opened the door. "You share with your neighbours". There were two shower cubicles without doors or curtains, two washbasins along one wall and two lavatories on the other. At the end was a dressing table with a large mirror. A door apparently opened to the next room. "Not much privacy", Pat noticed. "No. Most of us tried setting up rules for sharing when we arrived, but after a few weeks you become used to it. Once you've tried serving together, there really is no need for privacy". "Who's next door?" "We are". Jackie revealed a room similar to their own. "Oh! You're married". "No. We didn't even know each other when arriving three months ago. Came here as singles and had other roommates at first, but last month realised that we like each other, a lot, and switched". "You can do that?" "Slaves can do more or less as they like in camp, but have to ask permission to move from one room to another. It's always granted if all four agree. Lasting relationships are encouraged. It's a stabilising factor". "Where do I stay?" Caroline still had to fight herself not to try hiding her private parts. "With Joy, dear". "Oh! Can't I be with Pat?". "You can visit her, when allowed, and that'll be quite often, but you have to stay with Joy, at least until she leaves with the next shipment". "Can you show me to our room then. You said I'd get clothes?" "She'll come down soon, but you can borrow shorts and a top from me. Why not have a bath? You must need one, after the boat". "Oh, yes", Pat agreed. "It was rough. We ran into a storm last night". "Poor darlings. Take off your bands. I'll get soap and shampoo for you, and sun block, that's very important here, especially when you're new". "We can take them off?". "Sure, when we shower or use the pool, but only then". Bruce turned to Fred. "The girls go first, as usual. How about a beer?" "Sure. You've got one?" "Lots. We can have almost anything we want here, as long as we don't get drunk".

"You are no strangers to advanced sex, I believe?" The Director slipped his finger up Eddie's arsehole. "Ah. No, Sir". "Not even SM?" "We've tried it, Sir", his wife answered. "Liked it?" The finger was joined by another. "Not all of it, Sir". "What exactly did you not like?" "Spanking, paddling even, is OK, but I don't like being whipped, Sir". "You will be". "Guess so, Sir". "And you, Mr. Johnson? You may get back into position". The soiled fingers were presented to Ann's mouth. "I don't mind. Can I take that for her, Sir?" "You like scat play, Mr. Johnson?" "Not much, Sir, but it's my shit". The fingers waved in front of the pretty face and Ann opened her mouth. "You will have to get used to it. Some clients enjoy urinating into a slave's mouth. That is, however, the limit, except for cleaning a dirty penis or dildo". "Yeah, OK, Sir, and thanks for the limit". "I run a clean house, Mr. Johnson". "What's the limit for pain, Sir?" Ann grimaced and swallowed to get rid of the taste. "No permanent marks, Mrs. Johnson. No knives, no broken bones, no branding, piercing, needles, cigarette burns. A few whip cuts, made accidentally. It happens, but as soon as blood is drawn, the client receives a warning. All rooms are monitored, as are other parts of the island". "And then what, if he can't restrain himself, Sir?" "A guard will be at his room in less than two minutes to take the slave away. The client will be expelled, immediately". "Sounds OK, Sir". "Gays or lesbians?" "No problem, Sir, sucked my first guy when I was about ten". "I love to be licked, but don't get a kick out of licking another girl, Sir". "But you have tried it?" "Yes, Sir". "Good, very good. You are very handsome, both of you, and will be much in demand, perhaps as a couple. Would you mind that?" "Do we have a choice, Sir?" "Not really, but it may cause trouble if one of you resent what is being done to the other or are unwilling to inflict pain on him or her". The couple exchanged a look. "We can handle it, Sir", Ann stated firmly. "Good. I do not like forcing my slaves. If you are incapable of serving because of a punishment, you do not earn me any money".

"You were expecting us?" Fred smacked his lips. "Sure". Bruce lowered his can. "Your names were announced about three weeks ago. I have a list of you here". The young man handed him a sheet of paper. "But we, at least Pat and I, were abducted much later than that". "You've been targeted for some time. He runs a very smooth scheme, the Director. Once you're selected, you end up here. There was a hitch this time, though. Two of the names were changed only five days ago. Don't know why". "The Alvarez couple?" "Yes, that's the new names". Fred nodded. "They were servants of another couple and surprised the kidnappers, who took them instead of their employers, I guess". "Bad luck, for them". Fred studied the list. "The barest of basic personal information, mainly our physical attributes, and quite detailed planning of our life here". "That's how it is. You're here to serve clients. What really matters is how you look and how and where you can present that look in the most alluring way. If you can contribute to the running of this place in some other way, good for the Director, and, sometimes, for you". Fred read through the list again.

Shipment 21.

Females:

Maria Alvarez, 20, married (to Fernando A.). Hispanic. Housemaid. Medium length black hair. Light brown skin. 5' 2''. D-cup. No special skills. Work: Maid and kitchen. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block C.

Millicent (Millie) Anderson, 17, single. Caucasian. High school senior. Very short black hair. 5'. Almost flat chest with small nipples. Boyish look. Friend of Christine Crowson. No special skills. Work: Maid, serving in park and at beach. Service: Ordinary shifts. Not for sale. Block C.

Mary Butler, 28, married (to James B.). Caucasian. Hairdresser. Medium length brown hair. 5' 2''. C-cup. Small feet. Work: Beauty parlour. Service: Occasional short term. Not for sale. Block B.

Christine (Chris) Crowson, 17, single. Caucasian. High school senior, cheerleader. Waist length blonde hair. 5' 4''. B-cup. Long legs. Friend of Millicent Anderson. No special skills. Work: Serving in park, at beach and restaurant. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block C.

Rosalind (Rosie) Griffin, 18, single. Afro-American. Secretary. Short, curly black hair. Medium brown skin. 5' 7''. C-cup. Very long legs and feet. Girlfriend of Charles Morton. Amateur long distance runner. Work: Office, reception. Coaching at running track. Service: Occasional very short term on special appointment. Not for sale. Block A.

Elisabeth (Liz) Jackson, 19, single. Caucasian. Beautician. Shoulder length blonde hair. 5' 3''. D-cup. Girlfriend of Ben Sorenson. Work: Beauty parlour. Service: Occasional short term. Not for sale. Block B.

Ann Johnson, 29, married (to Edward J.). Caucasian. Professional model. Shoulder length blonde hair. 5' 6''. D-cup. Very large nipples. Long legs. No special skills. Work: Serving in park, at beach and restaurant. Service: Ordinary shifts. Not for sale. Block B.

Patricia (Pat) Lyons, 27, married (to Frederick L.). Afro-American. Nurse (psychiatry). Short, curly black hair. Dark brown skin. 5' 4''. D-cup. Large nipples. Work: Health clinic. Service: Occasional short term. Not for sale. Block A.

Kalia Pathee, 19, single. Indian. College sophomore. Short black hair. Light brown skin. 5'. C-cup. Roommate of Janet Smythe. Amateur temple dancer. Work: Maid and kitchen, serving in park and at beach. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block A.

Janet Smythe, 19, single. Caucasian. College sophomore. Shoulder length brown hair. 5' 2''. B-cup. Roommate of Kalia Pathee. Amateur ballet dancer. Work: Serving in park, at beach and restaurant. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block A.

Ling Soong, 16, single. Chinese. High school junior. Short black hair. Light brown skin. 4' 7''. B-cup. Petite. No special skills. Work: Maid and kitchen. Service: Ordinary shifts. Not for sale. Block C.

Caroline Summers, 15, single. Caucasian. High school freshman. Medium length curly brown hair. 5' 1''. B-cup. Athlete. For the Director's personal use only.

Males:

Fernando Alvarez, 20, married (to Maria A.). Hispanic. Gardener. Black hair. Light brown skin. 5' 6''. 6'' penis. Work: Park. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block C.

James (Jim) Butler, 30, married (to Mary B.). Caucasian. Construction worker. Brown hair. 6' 2''. 5'' penis. Work: Handyman. Service: Occasional short term. Not for sale. Block B.

Edward (Eddie) Johnson, 32, married (to Ann J.). Caucasian. Professional model. Blond hair. 6' 2''. 5'' penis. No special skills. Work: Bar. Service: Ordinary shifts. Not for sale. Block B.

Frederick (Fred) Lyons, 29, married (to Patricia L.). Afro-American. Computer engineer. Black hair. Dark black skin. 5' 7''. Very long penis. Work: Director's office. Service: Occasional short term. Not for sale. Block A.

Charles (Charlie) Morton, 19, single. Caucasian. Sales assistant. Blond hair. 6' 4''. 6'' penis. Boyfriend of Rosalind Griffin. Amateur swimmer. No special skills. Work: Lifeguard, serving at beach, bar. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block A.

Benjamin (Ben) Sorenson, 19, single. Caucasian. Tennis coach. Blond hair. 6' 2''. 6'' penis. Boyfriend of Elisabeth Jackson. Work: Coaching at tennis, serving in park, bar. Service: Ordinary shifts. For sale. Block B.

"You've been here for three months?" "Yep, came with the previous shipment". "So you have some experience?" "Sure". "Is it very bad?" The young man took another sip of his beer. "Two months ago I'd say yes, but now I've more or less grown used to it. You won't believe that. I didn't, when I asked the same question of the guy who trained me. But it's true. You do get used to it, have to, of course, but you do". "What do you actually have to do?" Bruce shrugged his broad shoulders. "Just about anything you can imagine and then some. I've mostly served lady clients, but some men as well, couples too". "Lady clients, you say. They can't be ladies if they come out here to abuse some poor guys or girls". "Of course they're a bunch of bloody perverts, but do no harm, as they see it. They're rich, of course, most of them look nice, even the older among them. Pay a lot of money for some days in luxury and a willing partner in their twisted sex games. Nothing wrong with that. We're above legal age, at least in this country, whatever that is, Columbia or Venezuela, one of the island nations in the Caribbean. Anyway, the clients come here; many of them are regulars. They're received by beautiful, half-naked girls, have a luxury suite. Other girls and boys serve them hand and foot, as maids or bellboys, at table, the bar, in the lounge. They coach them at tennis, caddy for them on the golf course, do their hair, give them a manicure, a massage, just about anything, and always politely, with a smile and dressed so they can enjoy their bodies. In the suites they find a catalogue with pictures of the same girls and boys, in the nude of course, and descriptions of their special skills. They select one of them, or more, check the updated list on their TV to see if they're available, make a phone call, and she or he arrives, ready to serve". "But what do you actually do?" "We work twelve hour shifts. You start by going to the hotel to look at the schedule. Sometimes you find that you've been booked already, if so, you make ready and go to the client's room. If not, you get orders for the day. If you have special skills, you may be called to use them. I don't, I'm just a college boy". "How old are you?" "Nineteen. On day shifts I mostly work in the park, sometimes as a caddy, and at night in the kitchen or with the laundry. Anyway, you go to work and some days that's it, you finish your shift and go home without serving a client, unless one of them has a little fun with you during the day. Once you've worked eight hours of a shift without being requested by a client, you're in the blue, are taken off the list of available slaves, because you'll be too tired to perform satisfactorily. We work hard, without breaks, except for a hurried meal. On other days a client calls reception and asks for you, or you catch their eye somewhere around the island, and then your shift is extended by twelve hours, unless it's a short-term booking. The girls look you up on the screen, send a runner for you, and you stop doing whatever it is, run back to the locker room, take a shower, make yourself presentable, grease up your hole, holes if you're a girl and get up to the suite". "Look you up on the screen?" "Yeah, you have that homing device. They just punch your number and a little dot shows where you are". "So those implants are real?" "Of course they are, though I prefer to think that the poison one is a fake, but I'm afraid it isn't. You've felt that the punishment thing works". "And when called to serve?" "You make ready, as I said, as quickly as you can, the client is waiting, and they can get pretty angry if kept too long. You enter, without knocking, slaves are not persons, but part of the fittings, display yourself if it's not a regular, they mostly tell you to get started at once". "Display?" "Yeah. All the suites have a big glass wall to a balcony. You step up to that, put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs. Remember to keep your eyes at the floor. The client looks you over, feels you up and off we go". "Go where?" The boy looked down at his bare feet. "We usually don't tell. Not something you want to discuss. If it's real bad you share it with your partner or closest friend. Here at camp we talk about other things, relax, have fun".

Fred nodded. "Sorry mate". "No need, I was new and loaded with questions three months ago. Mostly it's not too bad, sometimes even good. I have a regular client, a lady in her mid fifties. She often wants to talk, telling me about her travels, she's been almost everywhere. I sit or kneel on the floor beside her chair, sometimes I lick her feet. When she grows tired of that, we fuck. She chains me spread-eagle on the bed and rides me, slowly, very slowly, for a long time, demanding that I don't climax". He grinned shyly. "Hell of a job I tell you, but I've learned to control myself. Sometimes she puts clothespins on my nipples, cock and balls, toes, well, anywhere, and she likes spanking me, bent over the rail of her bed, mostly with a paddle, just before she goes to sleep. She chains me there, spanks me, lies down so I can lick her feet and falls asleep. Kind of tiring it is, to remain standing there all night. Not too bad, as I said, and it can be a lot worse. This client, she's had these weird needs since she was a girl, she's told me. When younger she was even weirder, a real sadist, whipping boys until she drew blood. You don't find many guys who'll take that willingly, at least she didn't. Being filthy rich, she bought some hustlers, but it's a tricky business, you never know what you may catch from them and they may try blackmailing you. That's why guys like the Director set up places like this. It's not the only one, far from it. This particular client of mine has been to three other islands and she knows about at least three more. But she didn't like it because the boys and girls there are forced to serve. Kidnapped and beaten into submission, killed when they're worn out or sold as slaves abroad, that's if they're lucky. Places like that doesn't have any rules, no limits at all. You'd think those twisted people just love it, and I guess that a lot of them do, but not all. Not people who come here. They want to play rough, but they don't like the idea of being criminals". "But we are kidnapped and forced". "Sure, but they don't know that. How can they? They're told that we are here on a contract to earn some money and they see us moving freely around, no chains, no guards with whips. They know that there are rules, limits, and that they'll be thrown out if they break them. They know that we have free time, that they can't get us whenever they like. We come to them willingly, submit with a smile, serve with a smile. No, they really don't know we're forced". Fred nodded. "Clever bastard, one must give him that. But why not try telling them, if some of them are as reasonable as you say?" "The rooms are monitored, the rest of the place too". "Yeah, OK. And it's true that we're released after two years?" "I'm sure of that. We just said our farewells to some former fellows". "They could be killed at sea or sold elsewhere". "They might be, but I don't think so. All of us have suspected something like that, but the Director has shown videos of other guys and girls, first as slaves, later resuming normal lives back home. Some of them were here with people who are still on the island. They've recognised them on the films and you can see that they were made recently. No, we serve two years and we go home, unless we earn a punishment". "Ingenious. A foolproof way of making people work for him, without protest, once we've adjusted to our fate". "And much better than if we'd been captured by the real shitheads. That's why I call this place Camp Lucky".

Pat and Caroline came out with Jackie, like her dressed in white shorts and t-shirts. "God, that was wonderful, to be clean again". Pat smiled to her husband, shaking her thick mane of dark hair. "And dressed". Caroline had lost her frightened look and smiled timidly. "Sure, and don't you look good. I'd better have a bath as well". Fred rose to kiss his wife tenderly and disappeared inside, just before two naked girls crossed the lawn. "Hi! Janet and Kalia, I guess. I'm Jackie, we've got a lot in common". She embraced and kissed them in turn. "I'm a dancer too". "Oh!" Janet looked at her gorgeous body. "But much prettier than I". "Rubbish! You're beautiful, dear. The clients will love you". "Yeah, shit!" "Don't hang your head, girlie. If you warm them up a bit, dancing, and have a fine body, they tend to forget about the heavy stuff and just fuck you". "How can you say things like that? It's horrible!" Kalia's large dark eyes were brimming with tears. "Course it isn't, not all the time, and I do because that's part of my life now. Kidding yourself only makes you depressed, but come on, let me show you to your room". Bruce looked at his list when the three girls went inside. "Now we just have to wait for Rosalind and Charles. Are they a couple?" "I don't know, she was not in my cabin. But what about the others, we were eighteen?", Pat answered. "They stay at the other houses. New slaves are distributed evenly in three groups, with two tutors each. Known couples are kept together, whether they're married, like you and Fred, or lovers, or just friends as I suppose Janet and Kalia are". "Yes, they were roommates at college and support each other". "That's the point. It's easier if you have a partner or close friend, believe me. I was a bit down and out in the beginning. It's much better now I have Jackie". Pat looked at Caroline who was relaxing in the sun. "What happens to the singles?" "We're roomed with another single. I got a real good mate, Don, in B, one of the older slaves. He has just six months left now". She lowered her voice. "What about Caroline then?" "She'll be fine, Pat, real fine, once she gets over the initial shock. I know Joy, the Director's present maid, very well. She's a nice girl and she'll help her adapt". "Maid?" "Yeah, that's what we call it, bedmate of course. But Joy says that he's very gentle, only fucks her, no funny stuff at all, except that he ties her up sometimes. Caroline will have her own room at his private apartment and she'll actually be his maid, serve his meals, clean and wash and so on, and keep him company. Joy comes down here nearly every day. He allows her almost complete freedom whenever he doesn't need her, and she's of course absolutely out of bonds, always discreetly followed by a guard, who'll stop any client if he tries to use her". "They can do that, use you, anytime?" "Sure. They can only fuck you or do any rough stuff if you're actually serving them, and only fuck you in their suites. But when working you'll always be dressed in something very revealing and they'll feel you up, pinch your bottom, fondle your breasts, things like that, when you serve at table or they just spot you somewhere. In that happens you stop whatever you're doing and accept it with a smile. They may order you to get naked and display yourself, so they can decide if they want to book you later". Pat shuddered. "Ugh!" "Yeah, you'll get used to it". "There's another single girl, Ling Soong. What about her?" Bruce looked at the list. "In C, with a very nice girl, Japanese". "But she's only sixteen and so petite". "She'll be fine, Pat. Her roommate is very much in demand, hardly has a shift without serving a client, but she's seldom hurt much. The clients, who like girls like her, mostly just tie them up with rope. I guess they've seen some of those pictures of tied up Asian girls you can find anywhere on the net. It's uncomfortable, hurts a bit and you get the cramps, but nothing like being whipped".

"You're a hairdresser, aren't you?" Mary and Jim had been sent to block B to meet their tutors. "Yes I am, how did you know?" They were shown the list and Jim shook his head. "Damn well organised. Hard to fight". "Don't even think about it, Jim", his wife begged. "I won't, love, promise". "You'll be kept busy, Mary. Your predecessor just left. She hardly ever served a client but as a hairdresser". "Yes, he told me, the Director. I can't say that I'm not a bit relieved, but I 'will' have to serve". "Of course, but she didn't do it more than a few times a month, if a client really insisted and never a full shift, perhaps an hour or two. It's a nuisance for the other clients if they can't have their hair done when they want. It's the same for one of the other new, Liz. She's a beautician. You'll be working together. There's a beauty parlour at the hotel and we girls down here at camp will line up outside your doors as soon as you've finished a regular shift". "Oh no!" Mary sighed in mock despair. "Two years without a holiday". "Sure". The other woman smiled. "And we'll have to rush your training. I'll teach you and Liz the basic rules as soon as she's been processed. You must begin your first shift after lunch, but won't be made available for clients until later, so don't worry about that. You just have to learn how to behave towards them and in the beauty parlour that's not much different from what you're used to, I guess, except that you'll be half naked, of course, and the male clients like feeling you up, some of the females too". "And you Jim", the other male slave asked, "It says construction worker, but you're more than that, aren't you, rather a skilled handyman, we were told". "Yes, I mostly work as a back up, refining and repairing when the regular teams have finished". "And that's what you'll be doing here. We actually miss a man like you, haven't had one for three months now. Some of us amateurs have had to make do as best we could and there's always something to repair, so that'll take up most of your time. And you must be on constant call, only serve clients on an hourly basis". "OK". "But you 'will' have to serve, mate. A big, strong fellow like you is perfect for a quickie, if a female client gets horny during the day and wants a change from her regular slave. And I'm afraid that some of the male clients like warming up by whipping another man, bigger than themselves, before they plunge in. Boosts their egos, I guess". Jim shrugged his broad shoulders. "OK".

"How many boys have you sucked off, Miss Crowson?", the Director asked casually, parting Millie's arsecheeks. "Ah, well, I don't really know, Sir". "At least twenty. Augh!", her friend panted. He pressed his finger further up her narrow tunnel. "And you, Miss Anderson?" "Ouch! Do you have to do that, Sir. It hurts". "You have never had a penis in your anus, Miss Anderson?" "Of course not! That's gross...Sir. Auw, please stop!" He withdrew the dirty finger. "You may turn again, Miss Anderson". When she faced him, the finger was waving in front of her mouth. "Clean me, Miss Anderson". She stared from it to his face. "You can't be serious, Sir!" "I can and I am, Miss Anderson. Suck my finger clean, now!". She opened her mouth, retching when it entered, but fought her nausea and swallowed. "Much better, Miss Anderson. You will have to this often, though hardly a finger". "Must we, Sir? It's so disgusting!" "Yes, Miss Crowson. You must always do what a client may request, so remember to clean yourself thoroughly before serving". "Ah, yes, of course". She looked relieved, hastily adding: "Sir". "But you have no objections to sucking a penis?" "No, I rather like it, Sir". "And you, Miss Anderson?" "I like it better in another place, but it's OK, Sir". He smiled evilly. "Two experienced whores". "Experienced, perhaps, but no whores, Sir!" "You are now, young ladies". "No we aren't, we're your slaves, Sir". "Quite, and my slaves are whores, Miss Crowson". She looked down, shuffling her chained feet angrily. "And have you tried a bit of pain?" "Noo, well, shit, yes I have...Sir. One of my boyfriends liked tying me up on the bed and slap my arse". "And did you like that?" "To be honest, it wasn't too bad, Sir". "And you, Miss Anderson?" "We shared him, we always share our boyfriends, Sir. No jealousy, see?" "Very good, very good indeed. You are young and very pretty. I expect that you will be used quite often". "How old are they, those clients, Sir?" "The younger about thirty, a few past seventy". "That old, but then they can't...". "Cannot what, Miss Crowson? Oh yes they can, whip a girl, I mean, and if she is clever, she makes sure that they are satisfied. If not, her back and arse will be very sorry". "Yeah, of course. They can't get it up unless when beating the shit out of some poor girl...Sir". "Precisely, Miss Crowson". She shrugged. "OK, if that's what it takes...". "Perhaps, but there are other ways. Use your considerable charms, young ladies, and you may be able to sleep on your backs".

Ling didn't hesitate to kneel and take the Director's cock into her small mouth. "You have been taught how to please a man?" She nodded without letting go. "In the ways of the shibari too?" She nodded again and he closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations when her tongue curled around the stiff rod. She bobbed her head and sucked carefully, then took him past her tonsils and blew gently around the intruder, and he exploded down her throat. "You will have an easy time here, my dear, and leave to be a precious gift for a husband".

"You may rise". The two young couples knelt in front of the Director, Ben and Charlie fuming with rage, silent only under the threat of the guard's pacifier. They struggled to their feet, but the two boys had hardly got up before they dropped back on the floor, writhing and screaming. Their girlfriends looked on in horror and Rosie cried: "Stop that, for God's sake, stop!" The boys' bodies convulsed a few more times. "Get up again!" They lay panting and didn't stir. "Up, or you will receive another shock". The two shivering boys got slowly on their knees and finally to their feet. "That, Mr. Morton and Mr. Sorenson, was done to demonstrate what will happen if you do not serve a client to the best of your ability". Ben stared at him, eyes full of hate. "So take care". The Director scrutinised them. "I have some experience in handling young hotheads like you, who cannot adapt to their lives here. The electric shocks are for emergencies, for less dangerous behaviour we have the rubber hose". Charlie snorted. "And you consider yourself tough, do you not, Mr. Morton, believe that you can endure a whipping? You can not. Once you are hanging from your wrists and it cuts into your back, you will not even be able to scream, because of the intense pain and you will count yourself blessed when you eventually pass out. But not even that will be necessary, Mr. Morton, because you 'will' behave as expected, you 'will' be a perfect slave to my clients, utterly submissive, unfailingly polite, whatever is required of you. And do you know why, Mr. Morton?" "Because you'll beat the shit out of me". Charlie screamed and dropped to his knees when his abdomen once again exploded in pain. "You say 'Sir', Mr. Morton, every single time you address or answer me or a client. 'Miss' or 'Ma'am' if it is a lady client". The tall boy bowed his head to hide his tears. "Do you not, Mr. Morton?" "Yes, Sir", he croaked. "For Miss Griffin's sake I sincerely hope so". He raised his head to stare at the old man. "Quite, Mr. Morton. Complaints from a client will result in a whipping, but not of you, of Miss Griffin. It will not amuse you to watch her beautiful body writhing in the chains, to see her breasts turning red and blue, listen to her screaming. At least I do not think so, Mr. Morton".

He held up his hand to silence any outbursts. "You have now been warned about what will happen if you do not behave. As of now, the slightest hesitation, a mere hint of rudeness from one of you will earn Miss Griffin or Miss Jackson a whipping. Have I made myself clear?" The four pairs of eyes stared horrified at him. "Have I?" "Yes, Sir", Ben cried, terrified that he should cause his beloved any harm. "Yes, Sir", Charlie croaked, beaten. "Good. Miss Griffin, will you please kneel to suck Mr. Sorenson's penis". She looked startled for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and, with an apologetic glance at Liz, sank to her knees to engulf the boy's meat. Ben blushed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to will himself not to get hard, but the hot mouth around his long dick was soon winning the uneven battle and he moaned softly. "Continue until he spurts, Miss Griffin, but do not swallow". 'Shit', the boy thought and stopped resisting to get it over with. He came quickly and to his embarrassment in copious amounts, making the brown girl's mouth overflow and sperm seep out of the corners of her mouth. 'Sorry, Rosie, but it's been some time', he thought. "Excellent, Miss Griffin. Now kiss your boyfriend and deposit the delicious fluid in his mouth". Before he had time to react, the kneeling Charlie's mouth was covered and Rosie forced his lips apart with her tongue. He almost choked, but imagined her screaming under the whip and swallowed the other boy's sperm. "Well done, slaves. You may rise". The lovers struggled to their feet and the guard removed the handcuffs. They rubbed their wrists, carefully avoiding looking at each other. "That was a small demonstration of what may be demanded of you. Clients have only one regular slave at a time, but quite often want a couple, so you must become accustomed to serving together. For a male client it can be very amusing to have a female slave suck him off and feed a male with the result, or to make use of her vagina or anus and make him clean her. And I mean clean, suck everything out, whether it is from one or the other of her nether orifices". Charlie shook his head. "Yes, Mr. Morton, and you will do it with a smile, will you not?" "Yes, Sir". "Or...?" "Or you'll whip Rosie...Sir". "Exactly. And so will you, Mr. Morton, though perhaps not as severely. Miss Griffin may be riding a client, who is comfortably resting on his back, perhaps sipping the glass of wine you have just brought him, and you will whip her delicious breasts, will you not?" The boy closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Yes, Sir". "I am indeed happy to hear that, happy for Miss Griffin, that is".

"Hi, I'm Joy". The other teenager embraced Caroline, kissing her on both cheeks. She eyed the pretty brunette's slim body, thinking: 'She might be my sister'. "Welcome. We'll see a lot of each other. Is it OK if I bring Caroline with me now?" "Sure, we have to get on with the training", Jackie answered. "But...but won't you train me?" "No, dear, Joy will do that, and you don't need to be trained like the others". "But why? I want to stay with Pat!" The young girl's eyes were brimming with tears. "Caroline! Remember...", the nurse warned. "Yes, but it's hard!" She looked pleadingly at Jackie. "Better leave, dear. It won't be pleasant to stay and listen to what we have to tell. You can come down tomorrow. It'll be OK, don't be afraid. Just listen to Joy". "Yes, dear. I promise that you won't be hurt". "But he, the Director, he said he wouldĄ­take my virginity". "I know, but I'll be there too, show you how to handle it and hold your hand, and he won't do it tonight". "OK". Caroline sighed and embraced Pat, tried to smile to the others and left hand in hand with her predecessor. "Poor kid". Janet looked after them. "Yes, it's a bit early, but did you enjoy it, the first time?" "Not much. Two clumsy teenagers sweating on the back seat". "Exactly. If what Joy tells is true, and why should she lie to us, the Director may be old, at least seem so to a girl like Caroline, but he knows what he's doing. Sometimes I think that one ought to have found an experienced man to do the honours". Jackie smiled wryly. "But anyway, shall we get on with it? Lunch first".

"Hey, what have we got here! Where've you been hiding, babes?" Two men blocked their way when Joy and Caroline came walking towards the hotel. "Let's have a closer look. Drop those clothes, you're overdressed!" "Please, Sir. Let us pass". "No, way. Get naked, now!" "Manuel!" Joy didn't turn, just squeezed her new friend's hand reassuringly. The young man in guard uniform, who had followed them at a distance since they left the camp, came running. "Yes, Miss Joy?" "Please explain to these clients that we're out of bonds". "Yes, Miss Joy. You're not allowed to touch the golden girls, Sir. It's in the rules". "Aw, their owners won't mind. Who owns you by the way, maybe we could borrow you?" "That's not possible, Sir. Will you please step aside now?" "Like hell I won't!" One of them suddenly grabbed the front of Joy's light dress and ripped it open to show her firm young breasts. "Delicious! I...". He got no further before finding himself on the ground, felled by a karate kick from the guard who drew a gun to train it at the other man. "Don't move!" He grabbed a whistle and blew twice. A few moments later three more guards came running. "What's up?", one of them asked with a worried look at the scene. "This client attacked Miss Joy, Sir". "I see. Take him away and lock him up, boys. And the other client?" "He just looked on". "OK. Will you please go to your room, right now, Sir, and wait for the Director". "Guess I have to, but I don't know what he did wrong". He looked after the other man, who was frog-marched away, protesting and threatening the guards. "He did the absolutely worst thing anyone on this island could possibly do. He not only bothered Miss Joy, he attacked her!" "And so what, she's a slave, isn't she?" "Miss Joy is the Director's personal assistant, Sir". "Assistant! Huh?" He looked after the girl, who calmly had gathered the remains of her dress to cover her breasts and walked away, head high, with Caroline and the guard.

"Sorry about that, dear. It never happened before, not to me at least, but you can see that you've got nothing to fear. The Director protects us". They entered the cool hall and the receptionists looked alarmed. "But Joy! What happened?" "One of the clients stopped us and told us to undress, ripped my clothes when Manuel told him to lay off". "Oh, dear! You're in for it, Manuel. The Director will be furious!" "Manuel did what he could, it just happened so quickly. Don't worry, I'll tell the Director how it was". "Thanks, Miss Joy, I'm so sorry". "It's OK. Come Caroline, let's go up". She led her to a door and punched some buttons to open it and reveal a small lift. "Private, directly to the Director's flat. Only he and I know the code". They rode up and stepped out into a vast room, occupying one end of the building, with window walls on three sides, looking out to a roof garden. Oriental rugs covered parts of the white marble floor and sitting groups of modern furniture were scattered around. "Nice, isn't it?" "Gosh! I've never seen anything like this, didn't know such places exist. He lives here all alone?" "Except for me, us, yes. Sometimes he has visitors, but not very often. We'll be staying over here". Joy crossed to a door and opened it to a little hall. "Our room, but actually it's a suite". She showed a pleasant sitting room with doors to the roof garden. A swimming pool was glittering outside. "Just for you, us, I mean?" "Sure, and our garden is fenced off. No one comes here, except us". "And the Director". "Not even him. This is our private place. There's more". They returned to the hall and Joy opened doors to show a dining-room, a large bedroom, a study with bookshelves, TV, stereo rack and a complete computer station, and a smaller room with a bed and a dresser. "See, even an extra bedroom". "So this is where I have to stay?" Caroline looked dismayed. "No, dear, you can sleep with me, if you like. At least until you've grown used to this, but we'll be staying together for about three months and you'll want some privacy later. Now let me change and find some clothes for you, other than what you've borrowed. Then lunch, what would you like?" "I, I don't know. I'm not very hungry". "Of course you are, had nothing but that horrible mush in the cell and on the boat. How about a quiche with salad and a dessert?" "Yes, thank you". "Don't". Joy picked up a phone. "Could we have two quiches, some salad and bread, and a strawberry flan?" She listened. "OK, raspberry then. Fifteen minutes? Thanks, dear".

"At least they feed us decently", Charlie sighed when the six new slaves once again were standing outside their slavehouse. "Beer even!" "A well fed slave performs better, mate", Bruce told him. "Yeah, guess so". "Let's start with that", Jackie continued, "Of course it's not for our sake, but here at camp it's OK. We can do anything we like. We dress properly". She indicated her cotton shorts and T-shirt. "We eat well, have TV, films, computer games, books, a pool, gym, and first of all, we have each other. All of us are friends. We have no secrets; there's nothing to hide. We don't compete; we've no say in what we do at work. Jealousy is unknown; we have enough sex at work to last a lifetime, but couples of course enjoy each other". She sent Bruce a tender smile. "And sometimes new relationships are formed, but as far as I know, no one who came here as a couple has broken up, rather the opposite. You're closer than ever when comforting your partner. You need each other more, far more, than couples back in our 'old' world. But we try to keep unloading private. If we had a permanent weeping party all over camp, it'd be unbearable, so what you'll meet down here is a bunch of cheerful guys and girls". "Sounds reasonable", Rosie nodded. "And we limit shop talk to a minimum. We do exchange information about clients, but keep it at a professional level. It's very useful for the rest of us to know what to expect from a new or if a regular catches a fancy for a another kind of fun and games". "That's what you call it, 'fun and games'?" Charlie asked, incredulously. "Yes, we try to joke about what we have to do, the alternative is crying". "Yeah, guess you're right".

"Anyway, you may spend your free time anyway you like, but take care to stay fit. If exhausted during a session, you can't keep your head clear to please the client, perhaps annoy him instead and get off much worse than necessary. Catch all the sleep you need. It may be tempting to spend your free time with friends or your partner, enjoying yourself, but you have to rest or you can't endure the sessions. Always remember that a work shift may be up to twenty hours if you're unlucky and are booked by a client ten minutes before your first eight hours are up". "But they can't fuck us for twelve hours in a row", Pat interrupted. "Easily. Let's say your shift begins at six, in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and running around with the trays, after that you clean suites and change sheets and towels until lunch, then you serve at the restaurant and after that in the park or at the beach. You've literally been on your feet for eight hours without a single break. Then, just before the eight hours are up, a client spots you, feels you up, and decides to book you. You run down to make yourself ready and then it begins. The client has enjoyed his day, is relaxed and ready for a lot of fun. He can easily fuck you a couple of times for a start. He'll tie you up, probably whip or cane you some, before using one of your holes or both. Then he may decide to go for a swim and hang you from a branch at the beach in the meantime. After that he relaxes in the park, with you on your knees beside him or running around serving him fresh drinks. He goes back to change for dinner and you give him a blowjob, while he drinks the cocktail, you've served him, and amuses himself by playing with your clamped nipples. He has dinner with you standing behind his chair, chats to friends at the bar with you as a footstool and finally retires to bed around midnight, which means that he ties you up again, whips you some more and fucks you cunt and perhaps your arse too, if he has the stamina. When he finally sends you away its two o'clock in the morning and you have to start a new shift twelve hours later. I don't have to tell that you're more than dead tired when you stumble to your room and don't have much time to enjoy yourself before it starts all over again".

"Oh, my God, is it like that all the time?" "No, but it can happen, I actually described one of my own worst days, but not very often. Many clients are regulars and have a favourite slave or two. They usually request her when booking, so she'll be ready for them on arrival. That means just a twelve-hour shift. If necessary, her schedule is rearranged to give her a full rest period before serving. The regulars know about this and usually make all of their bookings on beforehand to ensure fresh and well-prepared slaves at every shift". "Very considerate", Fred remarked dryly. "Well, actually yes. A tired slave is not much fun, unless you want a reason for punishing her for bad performance. That happens, but most often they like a well rested, smiling, sweet smelling girl in their bed. If you're called to serve during a work shift, it'll normally be by a new client, who doesn't know the ropes, so to speak, or because one of the regulars wants an extra slave for a few hours. Besides, the girls at reception try making the client wait a bit if he wants a slave directly from a long shift. I know this sounds very businesslike, but that's exactly how we try to keep it". The novice slaves nodded their understanding. "Questions about free time, before we proceed to work shifts?" "It can be very irregular hours then?" "Yes, everything is centred around serving clients. They arrive by seaplane at any hour during the day, and by the way, they know just as much about this island as we do. I've been asked about it a couple of times and a client once told me that the planes have darkened windows. They often like to talk, something you encourage, but you never, ever give details about your life. You're here out of your own free will, to earn some money, for university, to start a business, because your mother is ill, whatever. You're on a two years contract with very strict punishment clauses, so you'll lose a lot of money if you break the terms, and one of them is never to reveal anything about yourself. Another prohibits any kind of contact between a client and a slave once your contract has run out, so you can't make a deal about serving them as their private slaves later". "Clever", Charlie sighed, "But those irregular schedules mean that we may never see each other?" "Hardly never. Sometimes your partner is asleep when you return from a shift and you when she leaves, but there's always time for a kiss and a cuddle and a little comforting, if you've had a rough time".

"OK, work shifts". Bruce took over the tutoring and looked at the list. "The Director is very keen to use a slave's special skills, if she or he has any. You, Rosie, are a trained secretary, so you'll work at the office". "Lucky you", Jackie interrupted, "No clients fondling you". "No, and only very special clients will get you. There are two secretaries, one is leaving with the next shipment, and they're never on the list of available slaves. The Director needs them to do the paperwork, so it's mostly ordinary office hours, a little longer than normal, but still". "OK". The brown girl looked relieved. "But you'll be used for the first month or two, quite a lot. There are not many Afro-American slavegirls, so the clients will queue up, especially when they see the pictures of you". "OK, I can handle it". Rosie sent her lover a stern look. "You're a long distance runner. Some of the younger clients may want you coaching them, so keep up your training and get used to running barefoot". "Happily, but why barefoot?" "Because slaves never wear shoes". "Never?" "We simply don't have any". "Oh!" "Same with you, Pat. You're a nurse and we only have one. You met her at processing and she too is leaving in three months. Practically no serving clients for you and if you do, the session can be interrupted without warning if you're needed at the clinic. Clients don't like that, so it'll be very short or no sessions for you". "I won't pretend to miss it". "But you two". Bruce looked apologetically at Janet and Kalia. "You're college kids, so it's mostly kitchen or restaurant for you, and serving clients, I'm afraid". "OK, we can do that, can't we, Kal?" "Guess so. We'll try distracting them with a dance, like Jackie told us". "And you, Fred, will work closely with the Director. You can imagine how advanced his computer and communication systems must be. I know from the secretaries that most maintenance is done long distance, but specialists are flown in sometimes and the Director doesn't much care for that". "He, the Director said something about selling me, to a woman who likes lovers with a lot of endurance". "That must be 'Miss five hours', she's insatiable. I've only been with her once, with my former roommate, and she really kept us at it for hours, first one and then the other and then the first again. But she's nice, real nice, sits down to have a talk and a glass of wine in between the fucking. She's always on top and she likes a pair of nipple clamps, with a chain, as a sort of bridle when she rides you, and you're spread-eagle on the bed, real tight, so you can't move, but no whipping or anything. Yeah, you're in luck if you can make her buy you. Clever of him, she comes here two or three times a month for a couple of days and the rest of the time he can exploit your professional skills. She won't allow other clients access to you, I'm sure". "So Pat and I'll go on working more or less normally?" "Guess so, but you won't be that lucky, Charlie. Not much use for sales assistants around here, so you'll work like me, maybe spend some time as a life guard on the beach, but we have others, and in that job you'll be very much in the ladies' eyes. You know, they come down for a swim, hang around to catch some sun, lie there with you right in front of their eyes, and off you go". Charlie shrugged his broad shoulders. "OK, so I fuck them". "You do, mate, but with big guys like us they get kick out of giving us the whole treatment. Guess they work out their frustrations on us". "OK, I can take it, my only concern is about Rosie".

"On with work shifts. If booked in advance you prepare yourself at the beginning of your shift. If booked during the day, you're usually allowed the same. But before you even begin a work shift, it's a good idea to take an enema or two, at least you won't have to swallow your own shit then". Janet made a face. "I know it's disgusting, but you'll have to get used to it. You always begin a shift by going to the locker room at the hotel and report to the girls at reception. They take bookings from clients and get orders from the Director's office. If not booked, you prepare for what kind of work you're allotted that day. There's a dress code and different sorts of uniforms stored at the locker room. Clothes are made of white, transparent silk and cut to reveal your body. The purpose is not to cover you, but to make you look tasty to clients. Boys always wear shorts, sleeveless shirts when doing manual work, but shorts only when working as servants. Girls doing manual work wear short skirts and sleeveless tops. When serving, they're topless and with a sort of long apron, just covering their front, leaving the arse bare. Skirts are slit to the waist, front, sides and back and shorts have an opening in front to allow clients easy access to your genitals". "Ouch!" Rosie shuddered. "Yeah, they can paw you anytime and they do", Bruce shrugged. "Manual work is just that, if you're not a specialist. Boys cut lawns, rake footpaths and beaches, weed and prune, water the flowerbeds, move furniture and luggage. Girls clean and polish all over the hotel. All of us work in the laundry and kitchen. There are always very good professional cooks, but they need helpers, dishwashers". He grinned. "More or less what lots of college kids do and in a way it is. But it's hard work and long hours. Not counting specialists, a full shift is between sixty and seventy slaves, and if half of them are serving clients, the rest have their hands full. Night shifts mostly do laundry and clean at the hotel outside the suites. The booked slaves act as servants for their clients, but there are always girls at the restaurant and at reception, boys working the bar or as bellboys, and both sexes available in the park and at the beach. And remember that the working slaves can be booked for shorter terms anytime. 'Quickies', we call it".

"When booked, you ask for information about the client". "Information?" "There's a computer file on them, general description and special wishes. It's constantly updated, all of us do that when back from a session, add new information, as detailed as possible, especially with new clients. When you're requested, reception reads it to you". "He knows about this, the shithead?" "The Director, mate, always refer to him as that or you'll slip one day and earn a punishment. Yes, of course he knows, set up the file for all I know. It's been running for years, very useful from his point of view, as well as ours. We get off a little easier when we know what a client likes or dislikes, and he gets satisfied clients". "Clever". "Very, you should know that by now. In fact he's brilliant, could've made a fortune in any kind of business". "Wish he had!" "Sure, but anyway, you'll be told what to expect. If you come from work, you take a shower, and you always take care to grease your holes. There's a very good lotion, which helps a lot, and, depending on what you can expect, you use another lotion on the parts of your body the client may want to hurt. It's actually for use after a session, there are painkillers in it, but good for preparation as well. A whipping or the clamps always hurt, but it does ease it a bit. Then you make yourself presentable and take the service lift to the client's suite". "Presentable?" "Put on a bit of make up and perfume, if the client likes that, and if you're a girl, and dress. Many regulars want their slave naked, but others like to see you wrapped in something. You'll be told what and there are all sorts of fancy things available, not fetishwear, like leather or rubber, but different harem style things. For newcomers, and if there's no record, you put on normal slavewear. That's a long slit skirt and a short top for girls and for boys a sort of apron which just about covers your front. Looks silly, but you'll soon lose it anyway. When they want to go out or just keep them company, the clients may send you down to put on something else. Underwear of any kind, and shoes, are not available at all. Questions before the photo session?"

"Photo session?" "For the catalogue, like this". Bruce handed a set of pictures of himself around. A face shot, three full body pictures, front, back and side-view, of him standing naked with his hands clasped behind his head and feet spread. Another was a close up of his genitals, cock at full erection and on a sixth he was bent over, opening his arse with his hands to expose the puckered hole. "And this". The next set showed Jackie in the same positions, but spreading her labia lips to present her vagina and erect clit and with the addition of a close-up of her breasts. "Ouch!" Kalia looked away. "There's a set like this of each slave in the suites and they're on TV as well. The clients spend hours looking through them and reading the descriptions". He handed them a sheet of paper, which told that he was a college sophomore and amateur volleyball player, and stated his age, height, weight, and the length and circumference of his erect penis. He had no special skills as a slave, but was agile and able to endure prolonged sessions of very tight bondage and to take severe whippings on back and arse, whereas his genitals were sensitive and should be treated with some care. His sexual performance was described as average and his arse as not very tight. Clients praised him as a very polite and knowledgeable boy, with whom it could be a pleasure to spend some time in conversation. Lady clients recommended his very slim penis for arsefucking and observed that his own hole was perfect for larger dildos. The description of Jackie included measures of her chest, waist and hips. Her vagina was tight and creamed well, her arse very tight, painful for larger penises, and her mouth very talented, able to take a penis down the throat without gagging. She could take all average whippings and her breasts were well formed for tying up. Her specialities were erotic dancing and masturbating with her feet. Clients, male and female, praised the latter as a delightful novelty and found it amusing if she danced for them in the park, especially at moonlight, when little bells could be clipped to her nipples and clit to make the performance more exotic. "How businesslike, as if you were toys or pets or something", Pat frowned. "That's precisely what we are to them".

"Let's bring it to the terrace". Joy opened a cupboard in the dining room to reveal a service lift, where four covered dishes, a bowl of salad and a basket of bread were waiting. "Directly from the kitchen. You can have almost anything". They carried their food to the roof garden, where a dining table was placed under a canopy, and Joy showed where plates and cutlery were stored. When they'd laid the table and a bewildered Caroline sank down on the deep cushions of her chair, the other girl fetched a cool bottle of white wine. "Maybe you like a coke better, but I think we deserve a glass, to steady the nerves after that idiot". Caroline had been rendered speechless when her new friend opened the closets in her bedroom to reveal a row of pretty summer dresses. "I guess we wear the same sizes". "Are you always dressed?" "Sure, except when sunbathing or in the pool. I do that in the nude. The Director likes to see us in something nice, but there's no underwear or shoes". She raised her glass. "Welcome, sister. You can't know how much I've been looking forward to this. Sometimes it's lonely up here". They drank and Joy urged her successor to eat. "We can talk later". Caroline found that she was ravenous and stuffed herself while looking out over the lush greenery, the white beaches and the glittering ocean.

"Ready for business?" Their tutor gave Liz and Mary a last look over. They'd groomed each other carefully and were dressed in long slit skirts, the hems reaching their bare feet, and short, sleeveless boleros, fastened just below their breasts with a single golden clasp. Mary had been told to shave her crotch, Liz' was already bare. "Sure, here's just about anything we need". They looked around at the two hairdresser's chairs, the beautician's padded bench, and the well-stocked shelves. "But it's weird to be dressed like this". "Undressed", the older slavegirl laughed, "And take great care not to show any dislike when the clients take advantage of it". She left and the two girls looked shyly at each other. Ten minutes later a plump woman in her late fifties strode in and they sank to their knees and bowed their heads to the floor, as instructed. "Ah, new staff. You may rise, girls". She looked appreciatively at them. "Which one of you is the hairdresser?" "Me, Ma'am". Mary curtsied. "I'd like a new hairstyle, what do you suggest?" "Please be seated, Ma'am". Mary studied her and showed how she could cut her thinning grey hair differently. "Yeah, sure, sounds OK to me. You go ahead". "Yes, Ma'am". The customer bent over the sink. "Would you like a refreshment, Ma'am?" "Sure, gimme a beer". "Yes, Ma'am". Liz hurried to the fridge. "Aah!" The woman emptied the glass in two gulps. "Just what I needed. Another, darling, and you can do my feet". "Yes, Ma'am". Liz raised an eyebrow to Mary, with her back to the mirror and fetched another glass. "I'm from down South", the woman chuckled, "but no Southern belle, that's for sure". She drank deeply from her second glass of beer, watching the blonde beautician kneel before her, raise the footrest and remove her black boots. "Suspenders", she explained, "Just unhook them". "Yes, Ma'am". Liz reached under the skirt to loosen her stockings and roll them down to reveal a pair of gnarled and sweaty feet. 'She could at least have washed them', she thought and turned on her knees to fetch a washbasin, but got a better idea and bent to suck on the toes. "Fine, darling, just fine. I appreciate a prof when I meet one". Liz raised her head. "Thanks, Ma'am. It's my first day here". "But you've served at another place like this before?" "No, Ma'am". "Really! Had a mistress then?" "No, Ma'am". "No? Argh, you must have served a mistress!" "No, Ma'am". "A master?" "No, Ma'am". "Hmm, but he does train his slaves well, the old man". "Yes, Ma'am, but I arrived only this morning". The client looked searchingly at her. "You try telling me that you've never submitted to another woman, or man?" "Yes, Ma'am". "Gay?" "No, Ma'am". "Got a boyfriend?" "Yes, Ma'am". "Ever had sex with another woman". "No, Ma'am". "Not even a roommate?" "No, Ma'am". "Your sister?" "No, Ma'am". "Shit!", the customer whispered to herself. "Let's get this straight. You arrived this morning, you've hardly had any training, you're straight and you have a boyfriend. He's out here as well?". "Yes, Ma'am, to all of your questions". Liz began rinsing the other foot with her tongue. "Shit, holy shit! No kidding? I'll find out if you're lying to me". "I'm not, Ma'am". "Bloody incredible! You're booked?" "I'm not offered yet, Ma'am". "Just off the boat?" "Yes, Ma'am". "No other customers?" "No, Ma'am". "Get up to lemme have a look at you". The blonde beauty rose gracefully to display herself. "Hmm, nice tits". The customer unclasped the jacket and felt up Liz' ample breasts, then parted her flimsy skirt and cupped her sex. "Wet, must be a natural", she mumbled. "Last chance. You've never been with another woman, sexually, ever?" "No, Ma'am". "OK, I believe you. Get me reception. What's your name, darling? And how old are you. Twenty?" "Liz, Ma'am. Elisabeth Jackson. I'm nineteen". She fetched a phone and punched. "Hi there, this is Alabama Lezzie. Yeah, and don't pretend to be shocked, darling. I very well know what you call me. Get me Director, right now! No, I'm not bloody complaining! They're perfect, both of them, just perfect. You make a note of that, girl. Old Alabama Lezzie's not known to praise a slavegirl without no cause". She put down the phone. "Forgot to ask. You mind serving me tonight, Liz?" "If I can please you, Ma'am". "Course, but what's your honest answer?" "I, eh... Please, Ma'am. It's true, I arrived only this morning and we had almost no sleep last night, because we ran into a storm, and I began here just after lunch". "So you're just about asleep on your feet?" "No, Ma'am, but I'm a bit tired". "Course you are, darling". The phone rang. "Yes, Director. I want this new girl, Liz Jackson, now, or at least tonight. I know, damn you! No way, I can't wait. OK, for two hours after dinner. Course I can handle her. You dare suggest I'm too old? OK, thanks, and just for the record, I'm very satisfied with these new girls, Liz and, what's her name, Mary. You make a note of that, Director". She dropped the phone.

The novice slavegirls exchanged worried looks, but went on working with the old woman's hair and feet. She sipped her beer. "You heard that, darling. You're gonna serve me tonight". "Yes, Ma'am", Liz mumbled. "And don't you be scared now, I won't bite you". "No, Ma'am". "Not much", she chuckled. "When are you off?" "At eight, we were told, Ma'am". "And by then you're dead tired. Hmm, OK, this is what we do. You come to my room, 35, third floor, right after work. No bath and no change of clothes. I want you just as you are, darling". "Yes, Ma'am". 'Not even a bite to eat', Liz sighed inwardly. "I'll lick you clean, all over. One of the best things in life, licking a tired girl's body. After that we dine together in my room. What do you want to eat?" "I, eh, whatever may please you, Ma'am". "Course, but I ask you". "I, can I have a vegetable pizza, Ma'am?" "Sure, and after dinner we'll have a little fun in bed. I promise not to use a dildo on you, not tonight, so don't bother greasing your holes, and don't be afraid because you're new to this. I'll teach you, got about fifty years experience, and you do know what feels nice to a woman, don't you, darling?" "Yes, Ma'am". "I'll go easy with you, just a few slaps with the paddle, say ten, no, fifteen. That's OK with you?" "If it may please you, Ma'am". "It does, darling, it does, and I'm looking forward to seeing those delicious boobies of yours dancing under the whip, but that can wait. We're gonna have lots of fun, us two. I'm staying five days this time and I come here three, four times a year". "Yes, Ma'am". "Yeah, and just think how lucky I got. A virgin! A genuine virgin, umm". She smacked her lips.

"OK, shoot". Joy topped up the glasses and leaned back, studying the other girl. "I don't know where to begin". "It was the same for me on my first day. You're dumbstruck, aren't you? Arriving here to be introduced to utter luxury after what you've been through. No, sister, please don't cry. I promise that it won't be bad. I promise!" "But I, oh, it's so horrible! I miss my mum". "Course you do and we'll take care of that, but firstly you have to understand that you must be very careful about this place. The Director doesn't want anyone to know about his private life. So when we visit the slave camp, we don't talk about it. They know that he fucks us and that we serve him as maids, but not much else, only that it's not too bad for us. They may envy us a bit, but we're great friends". "Yes, I understand". "Good, and now your mother, and father, friends. You can't go back to them, not until you're released, two years from now, but you can talk to them". "How?" "On the phone, silly, or write emails to them". "The phone, but..." "Sure, by a connection no one can trace, but it'll be difficult for you, at least to begin with. You may talk freely, but never tell where you are or what you're doing. You must make them, especially your mother, understand that. The Director listens in on all of your calls and will cut the connection immediately if you try to say something about that. You must begin by telling that you're OK, but can't come home just now. That you'll be back, but not for some time, and that you can't say any more. They'll ask questions, but you must convince them that you cannot answer and make them talk about other thing. What they're doing just now, friends, relatives, anything but you. OK?" "Yes, I...". "You can do it, Caroline. I can. I'm on the phone two or three times a week and write almost daily. The Director reads the mails before they go off. It was hard in the beginning, but we soon got the knack of it, my parents and my sister, and it's so good to talk, for me and for them". "Yes, oh God, yes, but I'll cry". "So will your mother, but even that'll stop. When I call nowadays, my mum answers: 'Hello darling, how are you?' Just as if I were in the next city, and I say OK, and then we just chat".

"When can I talk to her?" "Tonight, after dinner, when the Director's back". "You're sure?" "I am, he may seem terrible, and of course he is, just look at the way he treats the poor slaves, but to us he's kind, very kind". "But why?" "I don't know. I think he needs to relax, to feel, well, normal. He really likes it when we dine together or spend a quiet evening with coffee in the garden. He talks, tells me a lot of things, asks me to read a book, watch a film and discuss it with him. I know it sounds strange, but I like it, him too in a way". "You can't mean that!" "Yes I can. He's the perfect gentleman, treats you like a lady". "No!" "Yes, Caroline, and you can do a lot of good by being nice to him. If he didn't have this place, me, you, to relax and be in another world, he'd be much worse with the slaves. Now he leaves for work in a good mood, just think of how it might be if he began the day angry and took out his frustration on our friends". "Yes, OK, I see what you mean. But what about us, doesn't he beat you?" "Never! He might of course, if I displeased him. I don't know, but I never give him any cause for it. When I came, almost two years ago, the girl, who was here before me, told me the same as I've just told you, and I've always been a good little girl, doing everything with a smile. That's what he likes, needs, Caroline". "But, in bed. I mean, he's so old!" "The first time, the first few times, it feels horrible, disgusting, but he's a very good lover, gentle and caring, much better than most men, I think. I hated him, it, but now I'm almost disappointed if he's too tired to take me to bed. It's true, I admit it, and it'll be the same for you". "No!" "Yes, sex is wonderful, Caroline".

"I guess you know how it works now. We'll get up early tomorrow, before the clients are out of bed, and take a tour of the island and the hotel, finish with the dungeon. Do you have any questions?" Bruce looked at his group of novices, who shook no. Jackie and he had brought them back to the processing building, where a replica of a hotel bedroom was used to demonstrate the special equipment. "OK, the next team's waiting. Let's return to our block". They nodded to the Alvarez couple, the two high school girls and the Chinese and crossed the lawn to settle in the shade. Bruce fetched bottled water for them. "Right! I know it's frightening to see all that shit and imagine it used on oneself, and of course it's bad to be at the receiving end of a whip. But we'll teach you some tricks to make it easier for you. Something we've learned from the older slaves and they from those before them. First of all, don't fight the pain, ride with it. I won't like it, but if you want, Jackie and I can try spanking you. My tutor did that to me when I came here and I was glad he did. I'd never been spanked before, my parents don't believe in corporal punishment, and I was shocked when the paddle hit my bare arse. My body went rigid, I fought against the restraints and the next blow felt worse than the first, even if it was much softer. But after a few more I began to listen to my friend, to force myself to relax, to think of something else, to push the pain from my mind. It can't take it away, but it can reduce it. You'll be surprised how much". "Good advice, Bruce. I want you to teach me", Pat stated firmly and the others nodded. "OK, but please don't think I like hurting you". "Course not, mate, you're not like those shitheads", Charlie grumbled. "Careful! Always to refer to them as 'clients'. You have to be polite or risk a punishment". "Yeah, OK". Charlie glanced at Rosie. "And not just because of that. To us they are exactly that, clients, not persons, not someone you relate to in any way. When they use us, we don't get angry, we're simply not affected. A client can't humiliate you if he means nothing to you. You kneel to him, lick his feet, spread your legs for him, suck his cock, show him how to hurt you, because the Director forces you, not because you submit to him. A client is not a better person than you are, neither is he someone to despise. He's nothing and nobody. That's the second trick: Stay unaffected". The novices nodded again. "But stay there, don't retire into yourself. You've got to be in control". "How can you say that. If you're tied up, chained, like you showed us, how can you be in control?" Kalia demanded. "By acting as a professional. That's the third trick. This is your job. You are a professional slave. You know what you're doing. You're the expert. You have the means to manipulate the client. We'll show you how".

"Almost six, we've better change". Joy rose from the sun bed. The two girls had talked on after lunch. Caroline gradually relaxing, partly because of her new friend's calm explanations, partly because of the wine. Joy had shown her around the Director's flat and told how he expected it kept. "Not much work. He's very tidy and the two us don't make it very dirty. A bit of dusting, wash the floor a couple of times a week, vacuum the carpets, clean the bedrooms and bathrooms, that's about it. Dirty dishes go down the kitchen lift and come back cleaned, the same with clothes, towels, sheets. You just put it back in the cupboards and closets. Most days I visit my friends at the camp a couple of hours before lunch. Remember to call reception to summon a guard before you go down. Sometimes I eat lunch down there, use the gym in the afternoon. On other days I take lunch here, occasionally with the Director, but he'll tell you in advance, if he wants that, and lie in the sun, reading, or use the pool. A bit lonely, but you have to remember that the slaves need their rest. It's not fair to take too much of their free time, just to please yourself. You change at six to be ready for the Director. He calls before he comes up and you receive him with a smile, a kiss and a drink. After that you undress him, help him with his bath, dress him again in something comfortable, serve dinner, for both of you, listen to him talking. You serve coffee, talk some more, watch TV or a film, go to bed, most nights with him, sometimes he just kiss you and wish you a good night. If he has used you, he'll cuddle a bit and then send you to your own bed. Next morning you get up before him, call for breakfast, wake him up with a kiss, sometimes he'll fuck you, help him bathe and dress again. You eat your breakfast, he talks about his day, and then leaves you to yourself. A life in luxury, dear. I don't know how I'll manage after I've returned home". "Joy!" "Just kidding, but it's not a bad life". "And he never hurts you?" "Sometimes he ties my hands behind my back, with a silk scarf, and I kneel between his legs to suck him. Sometimes he ties me spread-eagle on his bed prior to fucking me. Sometimes he uses my arse. I think that many married people do that, like in a sex-play. I know my mum and dad do it, tie her up on the bed. I've seen the marks on her wrists". "And if you displease him?" "He'll scold you, very gently, and look sad, and you feel like shit. And that reminds me. Don't swear in his presence, he doesn't like that, and remember always to say 'Sir' or 'Director". "And I can talk to my mum?" "Two, three times a week, as I said. Don't beg him, he'll always remember to ask if you want to make a call, and you can write all the emails you like. I make a kind of diary for them. No important details, but things like: 'Had some special flowers to arrange this morning. Oyster soup for dinner, wow! Beat my best friend at tennis'. I guess they think I'm some sort of harem slave with a rich Arab, who had me abducted. They're worried, but not seriously, and I'm sure they believe that I 'will' come back".

"I have made a very good choice, my dear". Joy nodded. She was on her knees, hands tied behind her, sucking her master's cock. "She is a younger version of you. You may stop for now". "Yes, Sir". She let go of him and looked up with a smile. He stroked her hair gently. "I shall miss you, Joy". "Thank you, Sir, but Caroline will soon make you forget me". "You think so?" "I know, Sir. She's so lovely". "And you are not?" "If it may please you, Sir". "It does, but rules are rules". "Yes, Sir". "You are longing to go home?" "I am, Sir". He nodded. "Kneel on the bed". She felt him tie her ankles, then her big toes together. His stiff member touched the entrance to her arsehole and she relaxed to let him in. He pumped her slowly and for a long time until he spurted into her bowels. "That was good". "Thank you, Sir". He withdrew and rolled her on her side, lay down beside her and cradled her in his arms, inhaling the scent of her hair. "I will grant you a wish, my dear. One". "Thank you, Sir". She hesitated. "Will you wait with Caroline until I tell you that she's ready?" She felt his body tensing. "Nothing for yourself?" "I have everything, Sir". "You are asking a lot of me". "I know, Sir, but it's for your sake". "My sake, how?" "Caroline's very immature, but on the brink of awakening. If you allow me to guide her, slowly and gently, she'll be a wonderful bedmate for you, Sir. If you take her now, even as kindly as you always do, she could be so badly shocked that she'll never get over it. You can use her, of course, but always feel as if you were making love to a block of wood, not a playful kitten, and that's what you like, isn't it, Sir?" She squirmed in his arms and rubbed her wet crotch against his beginning hardness. "You are no kitten, Joy, rather a tigress". "Sorry, Sir". Her laughing eyes met his. "No, you are not, but you were just as young as she, and very frightened if I remember correctly". "Yes, and no, Sir. I'd never been with a man, that's why you took me, I know that, but I'd been with a woman. I was no child, far from it; my hormones were raging inside me. Before you took me, we, my sister and I, used to make love, passionately, insatiably, for hours, and sometimes we had our cousins staying over". "I see". "So, yes, I was frightened before you entered me the first time, Sir, but only because I'd been told how much it would hurt, and then it didn't, or if it did I never noticed because I was so aroused. I came three times while you were up me. It'd never been so good and I cried myself to sleep the next night when you took my predecessor to bed instead of me". "Tigress!" He kissed her hard and rolled her on her back, still tied, raised her feet and entered her with one violent thrust. His fat dick hammered her relentlessly and she tried to meet it, moaning and babbling in the throes of passion. When he at last spurted into her for the second time that night, her bound body arched up towards him and she screamed wildly.

When he'd untied and dismissed her, kissing her tenderly, and she returned to their suite, Caroline was not in any of the bedrooms. Joy looked for her and finally found her leaning against the rail of the roof garden, staring into the dark night. She fetched two glasses of wine and joined her. The younger girl accepted her offer, but didn't turn to look at her. "That was wonderful, talking to Mum and Dad". "I know". "They were great, didn't cry, not even my mum". They stood close together without speaking. "He f.., made love to you?" "Yes". "I could hear you screaming. Did he hurt you?" "No, I screamed because I came". "You liked it?" "Yes". "You really like him?" The older girl put an arm around her shoulder, drew her head close and barely audibly whispered, not moving her lips: "There are hidden microphones all over. I hate him! If I dared, I'd kill him, but then all my friends would die too". She kissed her tenderly on the lips. "Caroline, sex is wonderful. Come, I'll teach you", she said aloud and led her back to their bedroom.

Part 3. Novices.

"You may rise, Mr. Lyons". Fred was fetched by a guard and brought to the Director's office on this third day after his arrival. Jackie and Bruce had done all they could to teach the novices how to survive as a slave on the island and reported that they were ready to serve. Pat and his fellows had been sent out to work and told that they would be on the list of available slaves as of next morning. He got up to stand as instructed, feet spread, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed. "You are listed as a computer engineer, but are in fact not qualified as such, rather just a technician". "Yes, Sir". "You have worked as a repairman, a trouble-shooter, but have little knowledge of computer programming or configuring". "Yes, Sir". "Quite. I have taken some trouble to confirm this, because I want you working with my computer and communication systems". "Yes, Sir". "They are, as you may be able to imagine, very complex and vital for running my business and I have so far used external help for maintenance. That is not satisfactory, partly because it is costly, partly because there is a risk that the secrets of my business could be revealed to unwanted parties. You will be responsible for the systems. You do not possess sufficient knowledge to make any damage to them, not without being discovered, or to use them for your own purposes, and you know that. I doubt that you are stupid enough to try anything foolish, but if I am mistaken, Mrs. Lyons will suffer. You too, of course, but before you die, slowly and painfully, you will have watched your beautiful wife being tortured to death. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Lyons?" "Yes, Sir. I'm not that dumb".

Millie had all but finished cleaning the bath when she heard someone enter the adjoining bedroom. She had been put to work as a maid and sent to the suite as soon as the girls at reception noticed the client leaving for breakfast. She panicked for a second when the door was flung open and a naked man in his late forties entered, but quickly dropped to her knees and kept her eyes to the floor. He didn't acknowledge her presence, just went up to take a piss. When he'd finished, he turned to her. "Clean me". She looked up to see a thick, uncircumcised dick in front of her face and gulped before opening her mouth to suck the last droplets from the slit, took a grip of herself and peeled back the foreskin to clean the head. Without further words he returned to the bedroom. "Get on the sawhorse. I want to whip your feet". "Yes, Sir", a female voice answered and she heard clanging of shackles, then a couple of clicks. She fought her fear and continued washing the tiles. A cracking sound was followed by the female voice. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir". She shuddered and cleaned the toilet bowl. "Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir". The strange sounds and calm counting had reached thirteen when she drew a deep breath, gathered her utensils and stole out the door. A naked, blonde girl of about her own age was astride the horse with her back to the room and her hands chained high upon the wall. The sharp edge of the top bar dug between her labia lips and her feet were chained to the far legs. The man stood behind her, hitting the sole of her left foot with a crop. "Fifteen, Sir. Ah, thank you, Sir". "Had enough?" "If, if it please you, Sir", the girl moaned "It does, slave, it does". He dropped the crop, grabbed her waist and hauled her bodily along the bar, making her whimper when it cut deeper into the sensitive flesh. The dick, Millie had just cleaned, was rammed brutally into the girl's arsehole. She screamed shrilly and moaned when he ploughed her narrow passage savagely. Millie stood frozen to the spot for a moment, shook herself out of her stupor and fled.

Ben was listening to an older slave, who was showing him around the court, when two middle-aged women, dressed in white tennis outfits, arrived. The other slave touched his shoulder and sank to his knees. Ben knelt beside him and bowed his head. "Hands behind your back", the other boy hissed. The women chatted amiably on their way across the court and stopped in front of the kneeling young men. "Ah, two of you, excellent! You may rise". The slaves got to their feet and stood with their hands clasped behind their bare backs, legs spread and eyes to the ground. "He's new, isn't he?" "Yes, Ma'am. Ben arrived the day before yesterday". "I don't remember seeing him in the catalogue". "No, Ma'am. He hasn't finished his training yet, but will be available from tomorrow". "Let me have a look at you, Ben". The blond boy raised his eyes and looked uncertainly at her. "Strip!", his fellow whispered, and, blushing, he hauled down his shorts, stepped out of them and stood at attention. "Not bad. Turn around". A hand slid down his muscular back and over his arse. "Show me your hole". Fuming with rage, he bent over and reached back to open his cheeks. "Looks good. Doesn't it?" "To you, but I don't like that dildo stuff much. The real thing's much better. You may turn again". He straightened, got back into display position and kept his eyes fixed at a distant tree while the other woman cupped his balls and stroke his limp cock. "About six inches I think. What was that name again?" "Ben, Ma'am. Ben Sorenson", he hissed between clenched teeth. "Yes, six inches". She let go of him. "You saw him first". "That's OK, I can have another. I like them more experienced". "Thanks. You run up to Reception and tell them to book you for room 23 tomorrow. You can bring my breakfast, eight thirty, and be ready for a match". "Yes, Ma'am". Ben dared glancing at her. 'As old as my mother!' He got his shorts back on and ran off.

"23?" The receptionist punched her computer. "Ah, yes, 48, regular, a bit complicated, but easy enough to handle", she whispered. "She wants it doggy style, no touching, except your cock of course, but I'm serious, absolutely no caressing, not even a tongue, no cuddling afterwards, you just slip out and kneel back. If she says 'Yess' a couple of times, while you're up her, try slipping out and go to the other hole, but just to touch it. Another 'Yess' means free access and in you go, but slowly, very slowly, until the next 'Yess', then you pound her in earnest and shoot when you can hear her getting over the edge". The half-naked girl looked up. "Got that?" "Yeah, guess so". "She's a tennis freak and you're a pro, aren't you?" "Not quite, but I'm working on it". "She's pretty good, but you can beat her. Don't ever try allowing her a win. She won't like that and anyway, you'll get ten lashes for every game you lose, so go for it. Try keeping her at the back line. She prefers a flogger on your back, that's nothing, but doesn't like chaining you, so just stand up straight and take it. No counting, she hates that. And she's a real darling, no heavy stuff at all and only one fuck right after the match and your flogging. The rest is relaxing in the sun, small talk and wine. She likes young guys like you, very well behaved, but not grovelling at her feet, perfect gentlemen, so take care". "Yes, thanks". "She's staying for two weeks and if she's satisfied, she'll book you for the whole of her stay. That's a fortnight of regular twelve hours shifts, beginning with her breakfast, she never takes a night slave". "I'll try and thanks again".

"A bit too old for me, but you like them mature, don't you?", one of the men at table remarked. "What?" His companion looked up from his plate to see Ann topping up his wineglass. She'd been working as a maid all morning, cleaning rooms, and was then sent to the kitchen to help preparing lunch. Now she was meeting clients for the first time. Like the other serving slavegirls, she was practically nude. Her large, firm breasts were naked and her shaven crotch barely covered by the flimsy piece of transparent silk attached to the golden chain around her waist and hanging to her bare feet. "Ah, well, I don't know. How old are you, girl?" "Twenty-nine, Sir". She stood stock still while he caressed her buttocks. "Hmm". His hands moved to her front, cupping her sex. "Good thing they keep them shaved, the marks show up so much better. Kneel, girl". She fell gracefully to her knees, offering her breasts for inspection. "Yeah, not bad. They'll dance very nicely and I like it when you can see the crop burying itself in the flesh". He pinched her nipples hard. "Nice ones, good for clamping", the first man observed. "Sure. Up again, girl, spread your legs". He drew the cover aside and parted her labia lips. "Lots of flesh, but not saggy yet. At least ten clothespins, don't you think?" "Perhaps. How's her clit?" The fingers dug deeper and she winced when her tender nubbin was dragged forward. "Big. Yeah, the hanging shackles, a five-foot spreader bar, pins on her lips and clit. No, forget the bar, clamps it is, with strings to her toes, a good cropping of her boobies to make her dance and then fuck her arse". "Too much work. I don't like to fuck them standing. I'd keep the pussy clamps, but add some to her nipples. Keep the strings to her toes, but crop her slit instead of her tits and then fuck her, nice and hot on the bed". "Or both". The two men laughed and resumed eating, while the blonde turned away, horrified.

"Oh, my God!" Ann sank to her knees in the kitchen and one of the older slavegirls crouched beside her. "What is it, dear?" She told about the two men, who so casually had discussed tormenting her, as if she were a piece of furniture. "Oh, them! Yeah, can be nasty, but are easy to trick. If you're sent to serve one of them, make good use the soothing lotion on your tits. The clothespins are no problem, we weaken the springs when working as maids. If they use the screw down clamps, you start whimpering when they're tight, before they really hurt, and scream as soon as they do just a little, that usually stops them. They don't want a constantly weeping girl. The crop between your legs can be bad if you're not careful, but even bound you can wriggle, they usually like that, and try taking it on the thighs". "God!" "Come on, dear, it's not so bad, and you've got to go back serving".

Charlie couldn't remember ever being so worn out when he returned to the slavehouse. Apart from a fifteen minutes break for a standing lunch he'd been working without pause since seven in the morning, mowing and raking lawns, weeding flowerbeds and smoothing gravel paths. "Shit, but I'm tired!" He sank down on his bed. "You think you're the only one?" Rosie asked through the open door to their bathroom. "Course not, love. How was your day?" "OK. I tried out the running track in the morning, two miles, very nice and with a fine view, took six rounds". "How about your feet?" The athletic girl came in, nude and fresh from a shower. "Not too bad, it's sandy most of the way, slows you down a bit". She sat down beside him and raised her foot to look at the pink sole. "See, no bruises. It'll soon harden. Some runners actually prefer staying barefoot". Her boyfriend caught her head to give her a lingering kiss. "I love you, Rosie". "And I you, darling, but just now you stink". He let go of her with an embarrassed grin, "Sorry, better catch a shower", dropped his shorts and went to the bathroom. "I did kitchen for the rest of the day. The cooks are very nice". He was drying himself when the other door was opened and a naked girl entered from the next room. "Hi, Charlie". She went to the wall cabinet. "Could you shave me, please? I have a client in an hour and he's a great licker". "Eh, why, yes of course". He took the shaving gear and she lay down on the floor, spreading her legs. "And do my arse too, he likes that even better than the pussy". The boy fought to keep his cock limp, while he lathered up her crotch and began scraping the fine stubble away. "Hi, Dora". Rosie stood in the door. "Where's Red?" "Serving a client, a real bitch. He'll be worked over good when he comes back". "OK, we'll look after him. What does she do?" "Always the same thing. Hangs the boys by their feet over the bed and uses a flogger between their legs, stuffs a candle up their arseholes and lie down beneath them to be licked until it's almost burned down". Charlie shuddered and rinsed her. "Thanks". She slid a hand over her smooth skin. "Now my arse, please". She rolled over and reached back to spread her cheeks. "And I hope you don't mind helping me with an enema. He always takes me there and expects to be licked clean afterwards".

"God! Again, Ben, aah!" Liz moaned when the long cock stabbed into her wet tunnel. "Please, just a few more times and I'm there". The tall boy closed his eyes to fight his imminent explosion, while he fucked her with long, slow thrusts, feeling the engorged head of his throbbing tool touch her cervix. "Yes, yess, now, Ben. Oh, God!" Her body convulsed and she disappeared into a deep orgasm, while her lover with a shout of joy emptied himself into her. Their sweaty bodies stayed entwined until he'd regained his breath and rose on his arms to let his tongue play with her left nipple. "Argh, Ben, please!" He kissed her lips and rolled off her. "Good was it?" "Terrific! This is the answer to any girl's dreams". She grabbed his limp cock. "Yeah, and not just girls". His face went dark and he stared at the ceiling. "Aw, Ben, we can take it. We have each other!" She rose on an elbow to kiss him. "Yeah...". "Is she that horrible?" "Nah, guess not, but she's old, thirty years older than me, and I don't like being forced". "You think I do? Mine's even older, almost sixty, ouch!" "Sorry darling". He kissed her back. "Let's forget about them".

"Tomorrow I'll be a whore". Maria's large, brown eyes were filled with despair when she looked up at him. "Never". Her husband kissed her hair. "You are my Maria and no whore!" "But I'll sell myself to other men". "No, you will be sold". "I'll be unclean, no wife for you no more". "Maria, look at me!" He tried to let his eyes cry out his love. "You are my wife, before God and men, and you remain my wife, whatever happens. We'll come through this and be happy again. You must promise me not to cause yourself harm. Let them do to you what they want, don't resist them, don't make them angry". "But they'll do horrible, unnatural things to me!" "I know, but that doesn't make you unclean. I'll have to do unnatural things too, with men. Perhaps it's a test for us, and we'll pass it, Maria, we will!" He drew her up in his arms, kissing her passionately.

Rosie was preparing for a run when she heard voices and saw two men, apparently in their late thirties, dressed in sweat pants and T-shirts, both sporting a visible paunch. She knelt and bowed her head, when they approached. "You Rosie?" "Yes, Sir". She didn't look up when she saw two pairs of sneakers in front of her. "Right, I've booked you for today. The catalogue says you're a runner". His Southern drawl was very pronounced. "Yes, Sir, on an amateur basis". "You run Marathons?" "Yes, Sir". "Right, you coach us". "Yes, Sir". "Well, get on with it, cunt!" "Yes, Sir". She got to her feet and showed them how to stretch and bend in preparation for the run. They watched her and tried to follow. "Get naked, make it more inspiring". "Yes, Sir". She hauled off the tight top, she'd been allowed to support her breasts when running, and dropped her shorts. "Hey, not bad for a black whore. Look at them legs". "Yeah, spread 'em". She put her hands behind her neck and stood up straight. "Wider". She moved her feet as far as apart she could without losing her balance. "Nice shave. You always done that?" "Yes, Sir. It can get very wet when running". "And when you're not?" Her temporary master grinned lewdly. "You cream easily?" "Yes, Sir". "Good, I like a lubricated hole. Get on with it!" "Yes, Sir". She took them through a whole series of exercises and at last straightened. "You're well prepared now, Sirs. How far do you want to run?" "What's the track?" "About two miles, Sir". "Right, we take 'em one round a time, let's see how many we like. You run ahead, set the pace. Slow down if we say so". "Yes, Sir". She picked up her clothes. "Hey, whadda you doing, cunt?" She was clutching the shorts and top. "I, eh, it's difficult to run without at least a top, Sir. My breasts hurt if they're bumping up and down". "And so what? They're there to be hurt. Just get running, we wanna see that black arse of yours move". "Yes, Sir". She dropped the clothes and began jogging along the track.

Fred looked up at the woman straddling him. When reporting for his first real shift the girls at reception told that the client, the Director thought might buy him, had arrived the previous evening and that he was to serve her for the day. "You start by bringing her breakfast and she'll probably want to try you out once she's eaten it. Do what you can to stay hard for her". "Sure". 'Couldn't even wait until after breakfast', he thought, watching her pick up a piece of pineapple and stuff it into her mouth, licking her fingers daintily, then take a sip of coffee. "Hungry?" He shook no. "OK". She turned to reach a buttered bun and his cock twitched inside her. He'd hardly entered the suite before she ordered him to put down the tray and display himself. He took up the position, Bruce had taught him, and out of the corner of his eye watched her walk around his near naked body. She didn't say a word, just studied him, touched his broad chest, flipped a long fingernail across a nipple, bent to let her hand slide down his sturdy leg, feeling the muscles in his thigh. Then she unhooked the chain around his waist to let it drop, taking the flimsy apron, which barely covered his genitals, with it. "Hmm", she mumbled to herself and cupped his heavy balls, jingling them. "Hmm". Her hand moved to his limp cock. "How long is it?" She stroked it gently, but didn't look up. "I, eh, I don't know, Ma'am". "Miss. Really, I thought you men were comparing those things all the time". "Not me, Miss". "Don't need to, I suppose, must be at least ten inches. Let's see how much it can grow". She ran her hand over the circumcised head and he responded immediately. "Hmm". She pumped the shaft and watched the rod stiffen. "Goodness! Are you married?" "Yes, Miss". "She's here as well?" "Yes, Miss". "Can you get all of that up your wife?" "Yes, Miss". "Does it hurt her?" "No, Miss, least she's never said so". "She likes it?" "So she says, Miss". "She's black like you?" "My wife is Afro-American ... Miss". She looked up. "Sorry, I didn't intend to insult you. I'm no racist, but colour is colour. I don't see any need not to use the proper words to describe it".

After that she ordered him stretched out on her bed, chained him spread-eagle and made sure that the chains were as taut as they could get, cleave gagged him with a rolled up scarf, and straddled him. "Goodness!", she mumbled while his stiff rod slowly disappeared inside her. "I don't think". She rose on her knees to let him out a bit, then clenched her teeth and lowered her body again. "Oh, augh! Do you have children". She caught herself. "Of course not, couldn't leave them, could you now, stupid question. But your wife must be much wider than I. Did you get all the way up her the first time?" He nodded. "And she didn't complain?" He shook his head no, then nodded yes. "Of course, she did whimper a bit, but then it was good?" He nodded. "Right, if she can, so can I". She squared her jaw and forced herself down on him, until he felt her pubic bone touch his pelvis just as his cockhead was pressed into her cervix. "Whew! That was really something. I think I'll just sit quietly here, until I grow a bit more accustomed to it". And then she began eating her breakfast.

Ben lopped the ball over the edge of the net and his opponent ran to catch it, but failed. "Argh, that wasn't fair!" "Sorry, Ma'am". She grinned and handed him her racket. "No you're not. What's the score?" "6-2, 6-3, 6-1, Ma'am". "Christ, but you're good! Used to do better than that. And yesterday?" "6-5, 6-2, 6-2, Ma'am". "Got me figured out pretty quickly, didn't you. Right, let's head back to settle the scores". "Yes, Ma'am". He stored the rackets and hurried after her towards the hotel. 'At least it was a blessing that the court was for lawn tennis. To play barefoot on gravel, ough!', he thought and dried the sweat from his brow. 'But 150 lashes, really something to look forward to'.

"Excuse me, Sir. My hands should be back to back". Ling gently freed them before the client could tie them crossed behind her back. "Why?" "Because you can force them further up between my shoulder blades that way, Sir". "OK". He tied them together and made sure that they were tight. "And now what?" "You bring the ends of the rope across my shoulders, tie a knot between my breasts and loop the rope below them to my back again, Sir". He followed her instructions. "And then?" "Tie a new knot and take the ends around to my stomach. Tie a knot there and loop them up over the knot between my breasts, Sir". He grunted and stood with the two ends in front of her. "Bring them under the stomach knot and down between my legs, Sir. Tie a knot over my clit and then run the ropes through the crack of my arse to the knot on my back. You can choose to let them run on the outside of my labia lips or between them, Sir". "What's best?" "It depends on how you want to hurt me, Sir". "But both ways hurt?" "Yes, Sir". She held her breath and sighed inwardly, when he, as she expected, ran the ropes into her slit. 'It was worse if they cinched the lips'. He finished and stood back to admire his handiwork. "Yeah, looks nice, and now what?" "It depends on your wishes, Sir. There are several possibilities. Would it please you to hang me from the ceiling?" "Sure, let's try that". She moved under the hidden shackles. "If you clip it to the rope on my stomach, I can serve you with my mouth, if it may please you, Sir. With my head hanging down, it'll be easier for you to enter my throat". "Yeah". His eyes gleamed and he hauled her up to dangle horizontally. 'Amateur', she thought, 'almost comfortable'. She opened her mouth, licking her lips invitingly. 'Let's see if I can make you forget about my legs'.

Jim clenched his teeth when his large frame rose towards the ceiling, his big toes lashed to the hanging shackles. His hands were cuffed to his collar, clamps crushing his nipples and cutting into his cockhead. He'd been unable to bring himself to cry out and as a result they were screwed down as far as they could go. 'Bloody fool!', he thought, 'Should've listened to Don'. "You have a very fine body". "Thanks, Miss", he hissed. She was about ten years older than he, a statuesque brunette, only an inch or two shorter than his 6' 2''. "And strong". Her hands caressed his muscular back. "I like playing fair. If you can take ten with the cat without crying out, I'll relieve you of the cock clamp. Ten more release one of the nipple clamps, another ten the other. If you utter a sound, I'll hang weights on them. OK?" "Yes, Miss". He saw her shapely feet move away and seconds later heard a swishing sound. Pain exploded all over his back when she expertly made the nine tails spread across it, and he opened his mouth to curse and tell her to stop, but caught himself in time and bit his lower lip instead. The next was worse and he tensed, but then heard Don's voice, 'Ride with the pain, don't fight it', and tried to relax. It worked. The next two lashes were bearable and he forced himself to go completely limp and focus his thoughts on Mary. 'It bloody worked!', he thought, surprised, when he suddenly felt her fumbling with his cock and the clamp came off, but couldn't suppress a scream when blood rushed back to the tormented head and new pain racked his body. "That hurt, slave", she chuckled, "But don't worry, it doesn't count". She moved away and he imagined his wife's beautiful small feet caressing his tortured meat. "Hey, slave, where are you?" He opened his eyes to see the woman's inverted face in front of him. "Right here, Miss", he croaked and read concern in her eyes. "OK, I was afraid you'd lost it. Don't want to kill you". "No, Miss". "Ready for the last ten?" "Yes, Miss". He closed his eyes, but they flew open again when the first nipple clamp came off. "Ssh...", he hissed and felt the whip again, but by now almost painless. 'Gone numb', he thought.

Ann was sobbing helplessly. Her blonde mane was tied in a ponytail and used to hang her from the ceiling, with only a precarious toehold. Clamps bit into her labia lips, forced apart by strings running to the cuffed wrists on her back. The two men, who had discussed her at dinner, stood on either side of her, their cocks buried in her holes. The prominent nipples of her heavy breasts, flaming red after a brutal flogging, were crushed in alligator clips, connected with the chain she held between her teeth. "You let go of that and you get another fifty on those boobies". The two men pumped her in unison, moaning with lust, and she opened her eyes to see Chris staring horrified at her, balancing astride the sawhorse, ankles tied to her thighs and wrists clipped to her collar. The man in front wrenched the chain from between Ann's teeth and hauled mercilessly on it, while the other forced her hands up her back. She screamed wildly when the clamps bit into her most sensitive spots and the men simultaneously shot their sperm into her.

Eddie moaned when the thick intruder entered his arsehole. He was bent over the sawhorse, chained to it by his ankle and wrist restraints. His cock and ballsack were tied tightly together with twine and a heavy weight dangled between his legs. His backside was striped by fifty strokes of the crop, laid on slowly and carefully to form a tight pattern from thighs to shoulders. "Good and narrow, and hot". "Thanks, Sir", he moaned. "We'll have a couple of beers after this. You must need one". "Yes, Sir, thanks". "Long time since they had such a fine fresh piece of man meat here. Most of them are too young, but I guess they're what the ladies prefer. You queer?" "No, Sir". "Even better, you straights are more fun. Yeah!" Eddie felt the client spurting up his bowels and then withdraw, only to walk around and present his slimy tool in front of his face. 'Good thing Ann reminded me to take an enema', he thought, while he carefully licked it clean. "You can wipe yourself and bring a couple beers to the balcony". His wrists were freed. "Yes, Sir. Thanks, Sir". The rather handsome man, who looked about his own age, but he knew to be ten years older, nodded amiably and strolled out, limp cock dangling.

"Fantastic!", the woman mumbled, riding him up and down and at the same time massaging his prostate with the finger she'd forced up his arsehole. "How can you?" Fred grinned around his gag. "OK, you win. Come, now!" She increased her speed and he relaxed, tried to raise his stretched body and shot into her. "OH MY GOD!" She threw back her head and screamed when his second load washed her cervix and collapsed over him while the third and fourth burned into her. He felt her go limp and fought to control his heavy breathing. After a while he began to worry and bumped her on his sweaty chest to wake her up, but she seemed unconscious. He bumped her again and tried speaking through the gag, and at last she moved feebly, raising her head to show him a tearstained face. "God! It's never been so good. Thank you", she whispered and kissed his gagged lips softly. Then she collapsed again, but this time he felt her heartbeat mingle with his own and stayed quiet, listening to her shallow breathing. After what seemed more than an hour, she stirred and rose on her knees again, crawling slowly back to extricate his still stiff cock from her aching hole. She curled up between his legs, staring at it. "God! How can you?" He mumbled unintelligibly and she laughed, crawled up to remove his gag and exchange a deep kiss with him. "You're the first man who's ever beaten me, you know". "No, Miss, but I'm happy to have served you well". She loosened his shackles a bit and he shook his aching limbs. "The Director offered you to me, to buy you, I mean". "Yes, Miss he told me that he intended to do that". "Would you like that?" "If I can please you, Miss". "You can, you most certainly can, but would you like it?" He looked at the firm naked body. "Yes, Miss, I would". "Do you love your wife, Fred?" 'Getting to know each other, bitch? Now I'm suddenly a person', he thought. "Yes, Miss, I love Pat, more than anything". "But it doesn't trouble you to be unfaithful to her?" "I'm not unfaithful, Miss". "Having sex with another woman?" "That's something we knew must happen, Miss". "And she accepts that?" "Yes, Miss". "And you?" "Me, Miss?". "Your wife's a slave, like you. Doesn't it concern you that other men will use her?" He closed his eyes. "Yes, Miss, it does". "Why this, then. Why did you come here?" "We needed the money, Miss", he answered firmly, remembering the hidden microphones. "You must need it very badly". "We had no other choice, Miss". "OK, I won't pry further". She thought for a moment, caressing his broad chest. "I like you, Fred, I like you very much. I don't expect you to actually like me in turn, but I hope you don't resent me too much". "I don't, Miss". "You see, I have this problem. A lover can only satisfy me if he has the stamina to remain stiff for hours. I don't know why, but that's what it takes for me to climax". "Yes, Miss. Pat's a bit of the same". "Really! You fuck her for hours?" "Sometimes, Miss". "Lucky her, wish we'd met before she caught you. My lovers never have the patience. That's why I come here. You men on the island at least have to try". She sighed. "OK, I'll buy you, but I don't like exploiting that you're in need and I'm rich. I'll buy your wife as well". "Miss?" He stared at her. "Not to use her. I'm most certainly no lesbian, but to relieve you of at least that burden". He was rendered speechless and she laughed at his stupefied expression. "Less trouble gives better performances, eh?" "I, we... Miss, you'll have the best slave in the world. I'll do all I can to satisfy you, even if it kills me". "Now, Fred, let's not go to extremes". She kissed him softly and released him, then jumped up to get the phone.

"Reception? I want Pat Lyons serving me, is she available? At the health clinic, not with a client? Good, send her up here right now, and give me the Director. In an hour? Very well, but send that slavegirl now. No, she doesn't have to prepare anything. And I want lunch brought up, for three, something with lots of eggs". She put down the phone, grinning hugely. "You'll need to build up your strength, Freddie boy. Let's hit the shower before your wife see you like this". She was on the balcony, dressed in a white terrycloth skirt and top, sipping a glass of white wine, with Fred on the floor beside her, nursing a beer, when Pat arrived at the suite. She sent her husband a searching look and saw him nod reassuringly, then placed herself to display her near naked body. The client looked her over briefly. "Lovely", she mumbled to herself. "Hello, Mrs. Lyons. I'm, eh, I'm Miss Jones". "Yes, Miss". Pat didn't move. "Mrs. Lyons, will you please see if some of my clothes fit you?" "Yes, Miss". She saw Fred nod with a little smile and left. When she came back, dressed in shorts and T-shirt, two slavegirls were laying the table. 'Miss Jones' dismissed them and rose from her chair. "Can I offer you lunch, Mrs. Lyons?" "Yes, please, Miss". Their host indicated that they should be seated and stood looking down at them for a moment. "Mrs. Lyons, your husband has brought me great happiness, he can tell you about that later. I know why you're here and that you expect to be used, sexually, by clients. I'm such a client and I want to use your husband, but I hate the thought of exploiting your, whatever it is that has driven you to these extremes. I've therefore decided to do something for you in return for what your husband will give me. I want to relieve you of some of your burdens". "Yes, Miss?" Pat looked questioningly at Fred, who raised an eyebrow. "I'll buy both of you. Argh, that sounds terrible, doesn't it? No, I'll make sure that no other client will use Fred and that absolutely no one will use you, Mrs. Lyons". "Thank you, Miss". "May I say Pat, and would you say Jane, please". "Of course, Miss, but slaves must be very polite to clients". "And you're very polite when you say Jane". "Yes, M...Jane". "Now let's enjoy our lunch".

When the Director sometime later arrived at the suite, they'd finished the meal and the two slaves were curled up side by side on the floor beside 'Miss Jones' chair, sipping wine. They put down their glasses and turned on their knees, heads bowed, when he entered. "You have something to ask me?" He looked surprised at the scene. "Yes, I want to thank you for your good advice". "I am indeed happy to hear that". He inclined his head. "And I'll follow it. I want to ensure the exclusive service of Fred". "Very good". "On two conditions, perhaps three". "Yes?" His eyebrows rose. "One, I want to buy his entire contract, two years I think it is". "Yes, and...?" "That's possible?". "Unusual, but I am ready to make an exception in this case, provided that I may use him in his professional capacity when you have no need of his immediate service. He has some special skills which are of great help to me". "Agreed, provided that we make the same arrangement with Pat". The Director hesitated. "I see. I was not aware that you, eh, needed the service of a female slave". "I don't think that's any concern of yours, Director". "Perhaps not, but... Very well, two slaves for two years, but with the provision that they can work for me as well". "Agreed, but only in their professional capacities, for no more than eight hours a day, and strictly out of bonds to other clients". "Of course". "And I mean that. They dress properly, not in those flimsy things, and will not submit to any kind of inspection, not to mention touching from other clients". "They will be issued golden collars and so known to be out of bonds". "And if that should happen anyway? As a nurse Pat may have to treat a client and he might feel her up". "I shall send a guard with her, if necessary, as a special favour to you". "Good". "Normally I would ask $30.000 for each of them every six months, but under the circumstances I will offer them for $50.000 as a couple". "$200.000? Accepted, and I'll pay in advance". "As it may please you". "And I want to keep this suite for the duration, ready for whenever I come". "Certainly. Again I will offer you a special price, but please do not reveal it to other clients, another $200.000, without further slave service". "Agreed, paid in advance". "Thank you. It is always a pleasure to do business with you, Miss". "Thank you, Sir". She smiled sweetly to him. "Pat and Fred stay here permanently". "If you wish, but they have a room at the slave camp". "And may go there as often as they like, when I don't need them, but they move in here and use the second bedroom as their own, the whole suite, meals and all, when I'm not here". "As you wish". "Thank you, Director. I shall instruct my bankers at once". She turned to the stupefied couple. "Please change to your golden collars. And you get dressed, Fred, shorts and T-shirt, and not the usual transparent stuff". "Yes, Miss". They followed the Director out and he turned to them as soon as the door had closed behind them. "Congratulations, Mr. Lyons. Your performance seems to have been even more remarkable than I had expected". "Yes, Sir". He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "But this does not change what I told you previously". "Of course not, Sir"

The flogger hit him again and the tall teenage boy let go a hissing breath. 'Ride with it, ride with it!', he urged himself and tried to relax. 'God knows how many that was'. The old woman handled the whip expertly; hitting the strong back with a rapid succession of evenly spaced lashes. "Right! Enough is enough, we stop here". Ben saw her put the flogger back in the cupboard and turn to him. Her body was still firm, but her breasts were sagging. "Make it hard, boy!" She knelt on the edge of the bed, spread her knees and rested her head on her hands. He shook his aching shoulders and stroked his cock frantically, then clasped his hands behind his back and lined up to her wet sex. 'Not exactly narrow'. He thought of his girlfriend's tight grip around his tool and entered. 'But wet, sloppy really'. He grinned to himself and slid slowly in and out until she began moving with him. "Yess". 'Aha, almost ready to change'. Her arsehole winked at him between the wrinkled cheeks. "Yess, yess", the woman sighed, and he withdrew his tool, dripping with her juices, and touched it to the puckered hole. "Yess". He pressed gently and felt her relax her sphincter to let him in. 'At least it's tighter, but still nowhere like Liz'. He moved slowly, almost imperceptibly and heard her moan softly. 'Like that, don't you, grandma?' He continued his slow pumping, feeling his juices rise, until a faint "Yess" made him increase the speed, still careful not to slap his thighs into her, and she raised her head and moaned loudly, then dropped it again while a shiver ran through her. Ben thrust once more and emptied himself, then withdrew and sat back on his heels, staring at the slimy fluid running slowly down the back of her thighs.

Rosie tried setting a slow pace to accommodate the two clients, but was nevertheless cursed while they doggedly followed her, doing three slow rounds of the track, before ordering her to run for the hotel. "Wash off that stinking sweat, cunt! You're disgusting, but hurry up". "Yes, Sir". Down at the slaves' locker room the intercom clicked when she'd finished showering. "Sorry that we couldn't warn you, dear, but they picked and booked you right when they came down after breakfast. Nasty types, real mean. Grease up both of your holes thoroughly. Cry, beg, scream right from the beginning. That's what they want to hear. Crawl, lick their feet, debase yourself, or they'll hurt you pretty badly. Try telling Maria Alvarez, she's up there, but we're not sure she understood". "OK, will do. I can handle it". "Hope so, dear. Sorry to tell you, but they get off abusing coloured girls". "I can handle them". "Take care".

At the door she met a slavegirl bringing lunch. Rosie wrinkled her nose at the greasy burgers and fries, remembering the refined meals she'd helped prepare in the kitchen the previous day. The clients were sprawling in armchairs in the two-bedroom suite's sitting room, still in their running gear, nursing a beer, their second, judging from the empty cans on the floor. She dropped to her knees in front of them and calmly relieved the most abusive of his shoes and sodden socks. "Hey, who told you do that, cunt?" She licked his foot and sucked on his grubby toes. "No one, master, but your feet are sweaty, Sir". "Yeah. OK, get on with it!" She sucked eagerly and heard him tell her fellow slave to leave lunch on the table and get out. "Least we got a black whore who knows her place". "Yeah. Hey, cunt, I'm bursting!" She let go of the second foot, "Yes, master", and crawled in front of the other client to open his pants and drag out a limp prick, closing her mouth around it and bracing herself. A stream of foul urine filled her mouth, but she managed not to retch while gulping it down. "Holy shit! There's nothing those black apes won't do when you know how to put 'em in their place". "Yeah, could use some more of 'em back home. Finish with me feet, cunt, and do me mate's!" "Yes, master". She returned to clean his second foot and then crept back to the other man. "Yeah, you like that, don't you, whore. Slobbering a white man's feet?" "Yes, master. Thank you, master". "Yeah". He aimed a kick at her chest and she sprawled back. "Spread 'em, cunt!" "Yes, master". She raised her long legs high in the air and spread them wide to show him her shaven sex, reaching round to open her labia lips. "Shit, what a horny slut! You think I'm gonna dirty me cock down that filthy hole?" "No, master, please fuck this black whore with your beautiful white feet. Please bury you toes in her dirty hole". He stared, completely taken aback, grinned to his friend and thrust his big toe into her opening. "Yes, master, oh yes. Please, please fuck me with your wonderful toes!" "Gawd, what a whore!" He dug deeper and she winced. "Hurt did it?" "Yes, master. Please don't hurt this black whore with your hard toes". She screamed and kicked her legs wildly, taking care not to allow him much more than touching her. "Aargh, master, please. It hurts soo much, please, mercy!" She cried and sobbed, while he worked her sex, grinning hugely. "Shit, man! Stop fooling around, food's getting cold. We can play with her later". "Sure". The foot was withdrawn to kick her in the groin. "Get up, cunt, and fetch us 'nother beer!" "Yes, master". Rosie rolled on her knees, sucked his toes clean and crept to the cupboard. She opened two cans, offering them to the men on her knees, without bothering with glasses. "Fetch the other whore and serve our lunch". "Yes, master".

Maria was in the second bedroom, in a painful hogtie on the floor. Rosie fought with the tight knots and freed her ankles from her thighs, then untied her hands, forced high between her shoulder blades. The Mexican was frozen with fear and cramped after more than two hours in the painful position. "It's OK, Maria, we can manage them", the brown girl whispered, rubbing her legs, "Try to get up and do as I tell you". She whispered again and the other slavegirl worked her cramped limbs, wincing with pain. They served the burgers and fries on the balcony with a new round of beers. When the men had settled down, Rosie crawled under the table and opened a fly to suck gently on a fat cock. He almost choked on his food. "Holy shit, mate! That black whore's really something". "What?" The other chewed. "She's fucking sucking me fucking cock". "Yeah? She can do me after you and we can fuck her later". "I wanna hang her on that bar and fuck her dirty back hole, stick me dick down her throat afterwards". "Long as you lemme whip her fat black arse first". "Be my guest. I can whip the other whore's balloons. Tie 'em up and hang her by 'em. Yeah, an' fuck her cunt". "Mebbe I whip her dirty feet too. Teach her not to outrun white men". They roared with laughter and emptied their cans. Maria followed Rosie's instructions and served them another, while her fellow slave changed to the next cock. "Hey, who told you to leave? Finish me off!" "Shit, mate, can't you share?" "Course, but I was close". "Prolong the pleasure". They ate and drank, while Rosie sucked their cocks, changing between them when she felt one of them ready to shoot. Can after can was emptied, their voices became slurred and their planning of what to do to their slavegirls more and more complicated. At last one of them rose on unsteady feet. "Gotta sleep first, mate. All that running's tiring me". "Yeah, mebbe you're right. Gotta be fresh for whipping the cunts". Rosie ducked out from under the table, winking to Maria, and the two slavegirls helped the drunken men to their beds.

The old man stared at the whirling body in front of him. Kalia was naked, only a thin chain adorned her slim waist and golden rings her delicate fingers and toes. Another chain dangled between the clamps on her brown nipples. "He's almost lost it, can't get it up, and that makes him bitter. Not much to do, except trying to make him use the flogger, I'm afraid. He doesn't even have the strength to beat you for very long. As soon as you see even the slightest bit of stiffening, go down on him and suck for all your worth. If you can make him shoot, he'll love you forever". The Indian had dismissed the receptionist's advice and decided to try another way. She stood submissively at display while the client felt her up, grunting about her small breasts, but began moving her hips when he was caressing her arse. He stood back for a moment and her arms straightened slowly, with small, abrupt movements of the wrists. When she heard nothing, she moved her legs, raised a small foot and turned it to begin a temple dance. He went in front of her and stood looking at the jerking, naked body, then sank down on a chair. She moved on and increased the tempo almost imperceptibly, unfolded the two silk scarves, she'd kept hidden in her hands to begin playing with them. The dance went from studied grace to whirling, violent motions, her body turning and twisting, the scarves flying, and she saw him open his pants to draw out a flaccid cock. He kept his eyes fixed on her while he stroked it, and slowly it began to rise. She turned her back and wriggled her arse, turned again and thrust her hips at him. 'It works', she thought and bent at the waist, opening her mouth and licking her lips. The cock was almost fully erect and the man's eyes glassy when she brought her hands together, wrapped the scarves around her wrists and gracefully dropped to her knees in front of him, prostrating herself. "Come here, girl", he gasped and she scrambled forward to engulf the tool and suck it deep down her throat. It exploded within seconds.

"Aah! Now to the balcony". "Yes, Miss". Jim tightened his grip around her waist and felt her breasts flatten against his powerful chest. When she'd whipped him for the third time, still without forcing a sound from him, and relieved him of the second nipple clamp, she stripped off her clothes and knelt upright with her hairy crotch in front of his face. "That was great, Jim, now show me how good you are with your tongue". He craned his head and licked the already creaming slit. "Yess, just like that. Ooh, nothing like whipping a strong man and then..., aargh!" She bucked and screamed, and finally fell flat on her back, kicking her legs feebly. He closed his eyes and smacked his lips. 'Tastes different from Mary, but not bad'. When she'd recovered, she pumped his cock to full hardness, let him down and impaled herself on him, straddling his waist and crossing her long legs behind his. "And now let's see how strong you are, big boy". He managed to get to his feet and carried her around the suite, bumping her up and down, even tried to dance with the solid body clinging to him. "Sit down in the deck chair". He backed up to it and slowly, careful not to lose his balance, managed to lower himself with the tall woman impaled on his aching cock. "Yess, and now...". She began humping him, staring into his excited eyes. "Good, am I?" "Yes, Miss", he panted. "Better than your wife?" "Different, Miss, she's about a foot shorter than you". "Ever tried this with her?" "No, Miss". "I bet she'd like it". "Yes, Miss" "What do you like best with her?" "Aah, please Miss! If you go on like that, I...". "Don't you dare, slave!" Her eyes flashed, but she slowed her pace. "Thanks, Miss. I'll do my best. Mary's got these tiny feet, and she, aah, she uses them on me". "And that's good?" "Yes, Miss". "Hmm, for you of course". "She likes it too, Miss. It tickles, she says, sometimes she comes when she's doing me like that". "Really? I have to see that, but now you can do me, big boy". She laughed and bumped on his lap until he shot a heavy load into her and she threw her head back, moaning with lust. "God, that was heavenly!" "Thanks, Miss, for me too". He dared grin to her. "Jim, I like you!"

"You took that well, girls. We'll book you for the rest of the week". Ann and Chris had been released from their bondage and allowed to take a shower. "Thank you, Sir". The elder slavegirl's voice quivered and she didn't raise her eyes. "We've finished with the hard stuff for today, so stop shivering". "Yes, Sir". She tried to calm her nerves. "But you're a damned good fuck. Ever tried two at the same time before?" "No, Sir". "Liked it?" "I, it hurt too much, Sir. Not the fucking, but...". "The clamps. Yes, of course, that's the point, isn't it?" "Yes, Sir, and I'm not complaining, but you asked". "Sure. And you, babe". He turned to the other kneeling girl. "You liked riding the sawhorse?" "It hurt and I was scared of falling off, Sir". "So you didn't like it?" "I...". "Give me an honest answer, girlie, it won't make us use it any more or less on you". "Yes, Sir. If I'd not been so scared of falling, and by watching what you did to Ann, I, yes I think I would have liked it, Sir". "OK, so the pain was not too much for you?" He turned back to Ann. "But for you?" "Yes, Sir", both girls whispered and saw him nod to his friend, who cleared his throat. "You see, girls. We like hurting you, a lot, that's why we're paying all that money, but it's not the only purpose. Actually we want to gain some experience for use back home, so to speak. We like playing around a bit with the wives, and they like it too, but none of us want to spoil the fun because they can't take what we do to them. The idea is to warm them up, us too, of course, to make the fucking more intense". "Yes, Sir. We've tried that, my husband and I, and it can be very good". "Okee!" He looked surprised at the older slavegirl. "I've tried it too, Sir, and it was great, to be tied up and spanked", Chris added. "But you're only seventeen!" "Yes, Sir, and it wasn't very hard, but I liked it". "Okee, yes, very good, girls, very good". "Please excuse me, Sir, can I suggest something?" Ann asked. "Sure, go ahead". "We could help you experiment, Sir. If you tried doing to us what you want to do with your wives, we could tell you when it becomes too much". "Clever little slavegirl, aren't you. Trying to avoid the real hard stuff?" "No, Sir. You could just go on hurting us, but you'd know when to stop with your wives in time". "Yeah, interesting. Why haven't we thought of that before?" "Never trusted these girls. They do it for money, why should they be honest? Better go on as usual, hit them until they scream and listen. When they're hoarse, it's past the limit". "Well past, mate. Remember when we tried that bastinado thing last time, and the slavegirl complained she couldn't walk afterwards, and we thought she was overdoing it and you hit Molly and she refused to speak to you for a month?" "Yeah, shit, or when you used the crop in the crack and the girl here couldn't scream after twenty and you wife passed out before the tenth". "Sure. OK, girls. We hurt you and you tell us when it stops feeling good and then when it's almost, but not quite unbearable. If we're satisfied, we stop, if not, we go past the limit. Deal?"

The naked brown body was kneeling upright beside the old man's chair and he fed another morsel of thin toast with goose liver to the Indian girl's mouth. "You know, child". He stroked her thick black hair. "You're the best that has happened to me for a long, long time". She swallowed and looked up at him with a shy smile. "Since my wife...passed away, four years ago, I haven't been able to... We were a perfect fit and we enjoyed it, both of us, but after her... I thought I'd never... And it angered me, why did she abandon me? I took out that anger on other women, girls, here on the island. Sometimes I thought I could, and they did try to make me, but to no avail, and it angered me even more". He sighed heavily and fed her another piece. "Do you like this?" "Yes, Sir, it's very delicious". "Not the food. Do you like being here, a naked slavegirl?" "I like dancing, Sir, and it's best when I'm naked". He chuckled. "I can't disagree with you, but being a slavegirl, forced to suck an old man like me?" "You were sad when I came to you, Sir, and now you're happy". "And?" "And that makes me happy too, Sir". "That is what you like, making other people happy?" "Yes, Sir. There's so much sorrow in the world". He fondled her small breasts. "Do you think that I... Do you think we could...make love?" "I don't know, Sir, but would that make you happy?" He looked startled at her. "Of course!" "You were happy when you made love to your wife, Sir. You are happy when you think about it. Will you be happy if that memory is replaced by the memory of another woman?" He sank back in his chair, contemplating her lithe body. "How old are you, child?" "Seventeen, Sir" "So young and yet so wise". "My country is old and has great wisdom, Sir". He nodded and released her hands, cuffed behind her back. "You may leave now. I'll have you called when I need you again". "Yes, Sir". She bowed to kiss his feet, rose gracefully and disappeared into the room.

It was late afternoon when Ben followed his tennis partner across the lawn towards the beach. She'd risen without a word when he'd spurted, and gone to the bathroom. He remembered his instructions, changed the sheets and wiped himself, and was kneeling submissively when she came back. "Lunch. Run down and get dressed, shorts and T-shirt", she told him and took the phone to order. They had it on the balcony, with him at table, and she engaged him in an animated discussion about the style of leading players. He was surprised how soon the pain in his back faded and almost forgot his resentment. Now she strode towards another female client, who looked much older, and he was startled to see Liz kneeling beside her chair. 'The other grandma', he thought, 'and is she old!' A little further along the beach two naked women were spread-eagle on their backs, tied to stakes driven into the sand, and he recognised Ann from his slavehouse, but couldn't recall the younger girl's name. Two men were seated comfortably in chairs between their widespread legs, resting their bare feet on their thighs and apparently chatting amiably. Several other men and women were reclining in deck chairs, alone or in small groups, with slaves kneeling at their feet or curled up under them as footstools.

"Hello there, didn't know you were here", his client called to the older woman. "Too busy with other things", she answered dryly, eyeing the young slaveboy. "Sure, great player". "Don't doubt it". His mistress sat down and he knelt beside her chair. "And you?" "Got to restrict myself. Found this delicious new girl, a virgin, but she's working at the beauty parlour and I can't persuade the Director to let me have her for a full period". "Hardly a virgin". The tennis lady looked at the gorgeous body. "To me she is, was". "I see, congratulations". "And it's been a pleasure, a real pleasure I tell you. Got a very spankable arse and look at those boobies. Show us, girl!" Liz rose on her knees and folded her hands behind her head to present her full breasts, marked by ten red lines. Ben looked at them in horror and sent the lesbian a dark glance. "Wipe that look off your face, slaveboy! It's not so bad, is it, darling?" "No, Ma'am. Please excuse Ben, he's my, I mean...". Her mistress chuckled. "He's your boyfriend. Really? And he's good?" "We love each other, Ma'am". "Happy to hear that, darling, and don't you fret. I know you're not pleasing me out of love, but you do please me". "Thank you, Ma'am". "Ben, run up and fetch me a drink". "Yes, Ma'am. What would you like?" "Gin and tonic, weak". "Yes, Ma'am. Can I bring you something too, Ma'am?" "Beer, better take two". "Yes, Ma'am". He rose to go. "Nothing for your girlfriend, boy? Not very polite". "But, I... Excuse me, Ma'am, here she's a slavegirl". "Sure, and so...?" The lesbian raised an eyebrow. "Aw, don't you tease my boy, you wicked woman. What would you like to drink, girl?" Ben's client asked Liz. "I, eh...". The girl looked to her client. "It's OK, darling". "A glass of water, Ma'am". "Rubbish! What does she like, boy?" "White wine, Ma'am". "And you?" "I, eh, beer, Ma'am". "OK, off you go". "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am". "And will you please make that girl put something on. I hate looking at stripes". "Don't mind making them, though, but OK. Find a skirt and a top, darling. What about dinner?" "Nothing planned". "My place, at seven. Smoked salmon, roast duck and apple pie?" "Sounds fine, thanks". "Slaves at table?" "Of course, I have mine until eight". "Me too. You tell them that, darling". "Yes, Ma'am".

"You're off now". The older slavegirl nodded to Janet and Millie when they returned to the kitchen after having served the first of that night's guests in the restaurant. They sent her a weak smile, sighing with relief, and went down to the locker room. "God, I'm tired!" The brunette sat down on a bench, looking at her sore feet and wriggling her dusty toes. "Me too, hardly sat down for a minute all day. Have you seen my roommate?" "Chris? 'Fraid so. Tied on the beach with that fantastic blonde, the model you know, Ann from B". "Poor Chris, but she must be off now as well. He got her at about eight. What about yours?" "Kal? I saw her going back to camp hours ago. Got off early, I guess". "Well, at least we didn't have to serve today. I wonder why". "Few clients, many girls". "Yeah, but the other new were booked, the men too, I think, even the nurse". "Not Mary, I don't think". "No, but she's been busy all day at the beauty parlour. Guess I know why I haven't been booked, though". Millie looked down her flat chest. "Tits too small. I've been pawed several times, but when they got to my chest, they lost interest". "Same with me. I've always envied other girls, but now I count my blessings". "It won't last. Some of them are bound to like girls like us". "Yeah, guess you're right and if it wasn't for the torture, they'd be more than welcome. I've had nothing for weeks". "Me neither, I itch. Do you think some of the singlesĄ­?". "Don't know. We've better ask one of the other girls".

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour, Miss". Pat knelt beside the older woman's bed. She opened her eyes and stretched luxuriously. "Aah, wonderful", she mumbled, then saw the kneeling slave. "Oh! What was that?" "Your dinner, Miss Jane. Would you want me to help you bathe and dress?" She sat up and patted the bed beside her. "Let's talk for a moment. Where's Fred?" "Sleeping". Pat rose and seated herself beside the naked woman. "Poor, poor boy, so tired!" The three of them had lingered over their coffee after lunch and 'Jane' had talked about herself and her life, without questioning the slaves. Pat asked to be excused to go back to the health clinic and continue her introduction. Their mistress didn't hesitate to order Fred to her bedroom, chain him up again and mount him. The lovemaking lasted almost three hours and once again she used all of her skills to make him come, but to no avail, until she begged and almost lost conscience when he spurted into her again and again and again. "Thank you, Pat". "Miss Jane?" "Thank you for being so discreet and understanding". Pat smiled and bowed her head. "It must be hard for you". She shook no. "To share him". "No, Miss Jane, it is not. We're slaves here and you've spared us much worse". "I don't want you as slaves". "No, Miss Jane, but we must behave according to the rules, or we'll be punished. We're still slaves of the resort. Please don't make that harder for us". "No, of course not, and perhaps it's easier for all of us if we keep a certain distance. Yes, Pat, I want you to bathe and dress me". "Yes, Miss Jane".

"Wha', what?" The drunken client came slowly to his senses to see a naked brown body beside the bed. "Your beer, master". Rosie bowed her head to the floor, offering a can. "Huh? Yeah, damned thirsty". He emptied it in a few gulps, liquid seeping from the corners of his mouth. "Where's me mate, whore?" "The other master is asleep, Sir". "Huh, gotta get him up. Gotta have some fun with you". He rose and stumbled through the sitting room, past a kneeling Maria, to the second bedroom. "Hey, mate, wake up! We're gonna use them whores". The other man complained, but eventually rose and they returned to the sitting room and the naked girls. "Yeah, whadda we gonna do to them?" "Piss". The other man laughed and they presented their flaccid cocks to the slaves. Maria looked horrified, but followed her friend's example and managed to swallow the foul fluid. "And now fuck 'em!" "Hurt 'em first". "Sure, but I gotta clear me head some before we whip 'em. Can't take aim". "Me too. Let's hit the shower" "Excuse this black whore, masters?" They turned to Rosie. "Yeah, whadda you gotta say, cunt?" "Excuse, masters, wouldn't it be more refreshing for you to take a swim in the sea?" "Yeah, mebbe, but I don't wanna wait hurting you, cunt!" "No, master, but you could tie us on the beach or hang us from a tree. There are pegs and chains ready for that". "Yeah, sure, great, we do that, don't we, mate? I sure could do with a swim. Let's spread them cunts and hurt 'em some, take a swim, hang 'em up and whip 'em, and then fuck 'em". The other man's eyes gleamed evilly. "Yeah, let's go!" Rosie sent her fellow slave a warning look. Her plan seemed to work. Slaves could be tied up, but not used at the beach. The guards would stop that, and hopefully expel the shitheads, if she could lure them into doing something rough, just for a few minutes'.

"An excellent shipment, my dear", the Director smiled to Joy, "One of the best so far. Two slaves are already sold, for two years. Some of my most demanding clients have high praise for several others and can be expected to use them regularly, perhaps increase their number of visits. Some of them will be very useful in other ways than as slaves and even those few, who have not served clients yet, have worked satisfactorily. And then there is Caroline". He turned to his youngest slave. "Are you beginning to come to terms with your new life, my dear?" "Yes, Sir", she whispered, "I miss my mum, but it was so good to talk to her". "Of course, my dear. So you like it here?" "It's so beautiful, Sir". "Not frightened any more?" "Joy is so kind, and, and you, Sir". "Thank you, my dear, I try to be. I want you to enjoy yourself". "Caroline has found new pleasures, Sir. Pleasures she wasn't aware of before". "I am indeed happy to hear that". "In a few weeks, Sir, perhaps a month...". "Yes, I shall be patient, little tigress". "But it's so important not to frighten her". "And I hope that you are not, my dear?" "No, Sir. All are so kind, Sir, and it's so peaceful here". "Yes, my dear, it is". He put a hand over hers and felt it quivering, but she didn't try to escape his touch. He was smiling benevolently to his other slavegirl, mouthing, 'Thank you', when laughter and shouts broke the peace. "Hey, let's get the cunts stretched out and whip 'em!" "Swim first. You're fucking drunk, man, can't get it up!" "Can't what? Just you wait and see what happens to it when the whores scream. Get down and spread 'em, you black ape!" The three people on the roof terrace rose, alarmed, and Caroline ran to the railing. "Oh, my God! They're tying two naked girls on the beach. What are they going to do to them?" She turned a frightened face towards the Director. 'Someone will pay for this', he thought. "Nothing, my dear. They are just fooling around". "But they're tying them up and he said that he would whip them". "So it seems, my dear, but do not let that scare you. I will not allow it". "Come, Caroline, the Director will take care of it. Our friends will not be harmed". Joy put an arm around her shoulders, with a pleading look at the old man. "I promise, my dear. You can talk to the girls tomorrow. Go to sleep now. Everything will be all right".

With a last look at the beach, where the two naked bodies were now stretched out on the sand on their backs, the sobbing teenager allowed her friend to lead her away. The Director whipped out a phone. "Get those fools off the beach, right now!", he hissed, "And send the slavegirls back to camp. The men leave the island first thing tomorrow!" He watched, fuming with rage, while four guards came running to drag the two half drunken men off the tied girls. They protested loudly, but were led away, and one of the guards freed Maria and Rosie, who embraced each other, thanked him and walked away, hand in hand. The director stayed on the roof terrace, nursing his brandy, and didn't hear the soft sound of bare feet. "She's asleep now, Sir". Joy sank to her knees beside his chair, her naked body glowing in the moonlight. He didn't answer. "And happy, Sir". "You calmed her down?" "I licked her, Sir, until she came". "Thank you". "She's so sweet, so innocent, Sir. She wouldn't let me to touch her at first, but now... She'll be good for you, better than me". "Impossible". "No, Sir". He emptied his glass and held it out to her. "Have one yourself. I want you". "Yes, Sir, but I don't need it. To me it's a gift when you take me". "Have one anyway. I need company". She rose gracefully and came back with two goblets. "Can I say something, without making you angry, Sir?" "That depends on what you are planning to say, but I am never angry with you". "I know, Sir. You're so kind". "I am not. I am a sick bastard, as you very well know". "Kind to me, Sir". "Abducting you? A teenage girl, to rape and keep prisoner for years?". "To a life in luxury, pampered, cherished...loved, Sir". "Perhaps, but still... And now I have done it again. Can she handle it?" "Not like me, Sir. She's too much of a child. I can make her ready for you, but I'm worried that she'll be depressed when I leave. It's a lonely life, Sir". "You have never complained". "I'm no child, Sir". "Little tigress. What is it you want to ask me?" "Could you allow Caroline some company, Sir? Up here". He frowned. "Another slave, you mean?" "Yes, Sir, a girl of course". He took a sip of his glass and looked out over the dark sea. "Perhaps. Will that make it easier for her to adapt to being my sexslave?" "Yes, Sir. I'm sure of it". "Very well, I shall grant her a slave". "When I leave, Sir?" "No, tomorrow". "Do I know her, Sir?" "You may not have even seen her, Maria Alvarez. She arrived with the latest shipment, with Caroline, accidentally in a way. She is twenty, married, her husband is here with her, by profession a servant girl, an illegal immigrant from Mexico". "Thank you, Sir". "I will have her brought here tomorrow and make it clear to her that she must never tell anyone about this place and what she does here". "Yes, Sir". "After that, you take over. She will be your slave, and later Caroline's". "Thank you, Sir". "And I mean slave, Tigress. She will do all the work up here, serve you hand and foot, submit to you as if you were one of the clients". "But, Sir, I can't be cruel to her, and neither can Caroline". "Of course not, but to her you will be 'Miss Joy' and 'Miss Caroline', even if you treat her as a friend". "Yes, Sir. But, Sir, can she be allowed to visit her husband once in a while?" "That is entirely up to you, or Caroline. You can keep her with you twenty-four hours a day or you can allow her free time". "Thank you, Sir. I'm sure that this will make Caroline happy, and a very good companion for you".

Part 4. Gaining experience.

"Do you have customers, Mary?" "Not right now". "24 asks for you, one hour. Jim's up there". "The tall brunette?" "Yes, she has him until lunch and again tonight. You don't have to prepare anything. She's absolutely straight". "OK. Liz can hold the fort". On entering the suite she found the client naked in an armchair with a likewise naked Jim on his knees in front of her, licking her sex. "Ah, the little wife. Lose those drapes". Mary shook out of the transparent jacket and unhooked the golden chain around her waist to let the flimsy skirt drop to the floor, then displayed herself. "Cute thing, aren't you. Turn and kneel, show me those feet your husband likes so much". She knelt upright and pressed her toes into the carpet to display her soles. "Yes, they really are very nice, but a bit dirty. You can stop now, Jim. We'll have some fun". "Yes, Miss". He raised his head, working his tired tongue. "Let's move to the bedroom". The couple exchanged a worried look while following the tall woman and Mary mouthed, 'Just do it' to her husband. "Hang her on the trapeze". "Yes, Miss". He lowered it and Mary lay down on her back, raised her legs to let him place the bar behind her knees and stretched her arms to have the wrist restraints clipped together in front of her shins. Jim raised the bar again until his naked wife was dangling waist high. "Clean them". "Yes, Miss". He guessed what she wanted to see and knelt to lick the dusty soles with long slow strokes of his raspy tongue. Mary squirmed and couldn't repress a giggle. "Cuff them and tie her big toes together". "Yes, Miss". "Clamp her nipples, securely, but not too hard and run strings from the clamps to her toe tie". "Yes, Miss". His hands were shaking when he crushed the delicate nubbins. "Shorten the strings. I want her to keep those feet straight". "Yes, Miss". "And now heat them up a bit. Use this". She handed him a small suede flogger. "And I said heat them, not really hurt her". "Yes, Miss". He looked doubtfully from the whip to the tender soles. "Adjust her position, so she can use her tongue". The client spread her long legs to straddle Mary's face. "A little higher. Aah, umm, almost as good as your husband". The hanging slavegirl moaned into the wet slit when the first lash hit her feet and her breasts were jerked out. "Yess, good, very good, go on, Jim". He whipped, his wife jerked, and the client moaned until the soles had turned a bright pink. "Yess, but we've better stop this game now". She backed away. "That was good, perhaps I should try a slavegirl every now and then. In the hanging shackles, like yesterday, Jim". "Yes, Miss". He lay down to have his toes tied and was hauled up to dangle free of the floor, then had his hands clipped to his collar. The client adjusted Mary's position until her tied feet were lined up to her husband's limp cock and pressed it in between them. "Now let me see how good you are. I'll stop whipping him when you've made him come". The cat hit Jim's back, painting a new pattern of stripes on top of yesterday's faded marks. Mary moved her feet, clenching her jaws against the pain in her tortured nipples.

Maria was waiting at the reception counter when Joy came down by the private lift. She was dressed in the short, transparent top and skirt of a slave maid and visibly trembling in fear. "Come, dear, and don't be frightened". "He is there, the Director?" "Yes, but there's nothing to be afraid of. He won't hurt you". They met him in the grand sitting room and Maria fell to her knees, while Joy went behind his chair. "Mrs. Alvarez, you are from now on relieved of your ordinary duties as a slave of my island. You will be issued with golden slavebands and serve as a maid to my companions, Miss Joy and Miss Caroline". "Yes, Sir", she whispered without looking up. "You will not tell anyone, not even your husband, about your work here or what you learn about my private life. If you do, you will watch him tortured to death". "I never say anything, Sir". "Miss Joy and Miss Caroline are from now on your mistresses. You will do all you can to make them comfortable, do anything they tell you, at once and with a smile". "Yes, Sir". "They will want you as their friend and that is not only permitted, but actually your major duty. Caroline stays my sexslave for the next two years. She will learn to like it, but she is a child and in need of support from a friend, an elder sister. If I find her scared, sullen, unwilling, Mr. Alvarez will be punished because you have failed your duty". "Yes, Sir". "For the sake of your husband, I hope that you have understood this". "Yes, Sir".

"Your picture reminded me of my daughter". The client looked closely at Millie, who was displaying her nude body. "She's seventeen, like you, and a real pain in the arse. Always sulking, never trying to be nice to me, but her mother adores her, can't see anything wrong with her. Bitch! A spanking, that's what that brat needs, and not just one. Get across my lap, girl!" He patted his thighs and she draped herself over them. "Arse higher!" She adjusted her position, balancing on fingers and toes, and his hand hit her pert bottom with a sharp crack. She was about to begin counting, as her tutor had advised, but got another idea and instead cried: "Ouw, Daddy, please!" His hand came down on the other cheek. "Ouw, ouw, Daddy, I'll be good!" He grunted and smacked her again and again, while she cried, kicking her legs wildly. After twenty hard spanks he stopped to look at the trembling bare back. "Have you learned your lesson?" "Yes, Daddy, please, I'll be good", she sobbed, "Please let me suck you, Daddy, please!" "You want that?" "Yes, Daddy, please let me suck your wonderful cock!" "OK". He pushed the sobbing girl to the floor and opened his pants. Millie suppressed a giggle and showed him a tearstained face before swallowing his erect member.

"Clean me, boy!" The client withdrew his soiled cock from the slavegirl's arsehole and turned to Charlie, who was on his knees beside the sawhorse. He'd been mowing lawns when called to serve. "Probably just a couple of hours. He's not into boys, but can't bother handling his girl, so you tie her up for him, release her, tie her up again and so on". "But I've never done that before!" "Just follow her instructions". He showered hurriedly, put on his flimsy apron and presented himself at the suite. The client, an elderly man, was nursing a drink in the sitting room and waved brusquely when Charlie went to the window to display himself. "Cut that out. I'm not interested in you. Just tie my slavegirl over the sawhorse, I want to use her arse, and give her fifteen stripes on it. Be careful to make them clear and evenly spaced". "Yes, Sir". He swallowed hard and went to the bedroom to find his neighbour on her knees. "Dora!" "Hush". She put a finger to her lips and rose to whisper: "Just do as I tell you and no hard feelings". She placed herself and he clipped her restraints to the legs of the sawhorse. "OK?" She wriggled to find a more comfortable position. "Use the longest cane, it makes the best marks and you don't have to hit me hard". He stood for a moment to control his rage at being forced to hurt a friend, but heard her whisper: "Come on, hit me. Begin at the top and work down. I'll tell you if it's hard enough". He laid a stripe at the very top of her globes and a red line occurred. "Just a bit harder. You're doing fine". The next line was noticeably redder. "That's it, but hurry". He let the cane travel down her globes and stood back to inspect his work when she whispered: "Fifteen, that was real fine, Charlie, hardly hurt at all. Now call him".

"You can lick her clean too and make me another gin and tonic. Next I want her spread-eagle on the bed and her breasts red and hot". "Yes, Sir". Charlie knelt behind the girl to lick the streams of sperm off her thighs, working his way between the cheeks and trying to get his tongue into her slightly swollen hole. 'Swine'. He tried not to retch when he swallowed the other man's sperm and rose to make him the ordered drink. "Sorry, Dora", he whispered when releasing her. "Don't ever be, Charlie, not your choice. Now stretch me hard, very hard, he likes that, and use the suede flogger on my tits. It makes them nicely red, but doesn't hurt much". The client strolled in, still nursing his drink, just as Charlie was replacing the flogger. He let a fingernail scrape across the sole of the chained girl's left foot and nodded, satisfied when she tried to squirm but was kept firmly in place. "Good colour". He handed Charlie the glass and straddled her chest. "Make me hard". She strained her neck and managed to reach his limp cock, licking and sucking between gasps of pain. "OK". He moved back until the now stiff member rested in her cleavage. "Press her tits together". Charlie froze for a moment in surprise, but knelt to lean over the girl. The client humped the red mounds slowly and took his time to enjoy the heat radiating from them before spurting over her neck and face. He sat back on her stomach and Charlie didn't hesitate to clean him for the second time and then lick away the streaks of sperm from the girl. "Excellent". The old man rose. "Release her, and you may take a shower and have a rest, girl". "Thank you, Sir". "Come to the balcony, when you've freed her. I want a footstool". "Yes, Sir". Dora moaned softly when she could move her strained limbs again. "He'll probably want me head down in the shackles next and my crotch red. Use the shortest flogger for that, on the inside of my thighs mostly, but remember to hit my pussy squarely, at least twice".

"According to the catalogue you're a dancer". The client opened the clasp of her waist chain and the skirt dropped to the floor, revealing Janet's slim, but muscular legs and strong feet. "Yes, Sir. Do you want me to show you?" "No, but I like a flexible slave. Lose that silly top and do the splits". "Yes, Sir". She went into position to watch him tie ropes from her wrist to her ankle restraints and tighten them until her feet were forced off the floor. "Tell me when you can't keep your balance, but don't try telling a lie". "Yes, Sir". She trembled under the strain. "I, that's too much, Sir". "OK, guess so". He slackened the ropes a bit and secured them, then fetched a basket of clothespins. "Stick out your tongue, I don't want to listen to your stupid pleadings". He deftly clamped four pins on it and she gasped with the sudden pain. The next pins were closed on her toes, then her fingertips, and after that he decorated her breasts with rows around her aureoles, finishing with a pin on each of her delicate nipples. 'Oh, God'. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

Rosie had been coaching a couple in their mid forties on the running track. They were genuinely interested and listened carefully to her instructions. "Do you always run barefoot?", the woman asked when they'd finished the last round and were going through the stretching exercises. "No, Ma'am, not until I came here, but it's actually very good on this track because it's sandy. Gives a better grip". "I see what you mean. Perhaps I should try that tomorrow. Are you booked today?" "No, Ma'am, not as far as I know". "What do you say, dear?" The man nodded "Why not, but I want a swim first". "Run up to tell them that 37 wants you and come down to the beach. Strip, but don't wash". "Yes, Ma'am". "Bring a catalogue". "Yes, Ma'am". On her return the man was waiting beside a couple of chairs below a tree, his wife already in the water. He nodded appreciatively when she approached. "Nice body, it'll be a pleasure to fuck you, but not just now. Give me your hands". He hooked her wrist bands to a chain hanging from a branch and hauled her on tiptoe, then clipped her ankles together and ran down to throw himself into the waves. 'Thanks very much, Sir. It's so nice with a swim to wash off the sweat after a run', she thought bitterly, while watching them enjoying themselves.

Mary was back at work at the beauty parlour, cutting a male client's hair. "I didn't know one could book you specialists". She stopped abruptly, carefully keeping the scissors away from his head when he opened the clasp of her jacket to cup a breast. Her nipples were still red and swollen from the hard treatment. 'But the woman had been very satisfied when she brought Jim to climax', she thought, 'God how I love that big hulk!' She could sense his fury when he heard her gasps of pain, but he behaved like a perfectly submissive slave. The woman withdrew discreetly to the balcony after releasing Jim and they had kissed and cuddled a bit while he freed her. "I'd like to have dinner with you here tonight, so I've booked you for a couple of hours after the end of your shift, Mary. I can keep Jim until ten". "Yes, Miss", she curtsied, dismayed. "And don't you fret now, dear. I said dinner and I meant that, no funny stuff. Just freshen yourself up and try finding something at least half decent to wear". "Yes, Miss. Thank you". She finished the glass of wine she'd been offered and was dismissed. "Are you ready for a good long fuck, Jim?", was the last she heard when closing the door.

"For shorter periods, Sir, if we have no customers". "Excellent, I just want a quick fuck, so finish with me before you get another. That arse of yours looks very delicious, even better with some stripes across it". He pinched her bottom. "Yes, Sir". She prayed that another customer would show up and was relieved to see a woman enter with Ben in tow. "Ah, nearly finished. The whole treatment, dear". "Yes, Ma'am. Please be seated. Would you like a refreshment, Ma'am?" "Yes, but don't bother. A glass of white, Ben, and have one yourself, though you don't deserve it. He beat me in two sets 6-0", she announced and Liz sent him a discreet smile, while tending to the calves and feet of a woman on the massage bench. "Aw, shit! Can't you wait a bit? I'd just planned fucking her. Just one hour!" "I most certainly can not, young man, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from using vulgar language in my presence!" "Silly old cow!", the man mumbled. "I beg your pardon!", she asked sharply. "Nothing". "I should think not and I expect you to have another slave already". "Yeah, in the stocks at my suite. OK, she'll have to do". 'Poor girl', Mary thought, while blowing his hair in shape.

"Wonderful place". The woman flopped down in the chair beside the dangling Rosie. "Sure". Her husband sat down beside her and sent a serving slave for drinks, then picked up the catalogue. "Let's have a look. What do we want?" "A male". "Of course, dear, young or...?" "Young". "OK". He turned the pages. "What about him?" She nodded towards Charlie, who'd just been dismissed and sent down as a lifeguard. 'No, please, no!', Rosie screamed soundlessly. "You like him?" "Good body, fine arse as far as I can see". "Yeah, and blond, nice contrast". He turned another couple of pages. "Here we are. Nineteen, that suit you?" "Perfectly". "Hey, you!", the man called, beckoning to Charlie, whose eyes widened when he saw his girlfriend hanging in the chains. He took a grip of himself and ran up to kneel in front of the couple. "Are you booked?" "No, Sir". "You are now. Do you want to stay for a while or shall we go up, dear?" "Let's go". The woman rose. "Take down that slavegirl and cuff her hands behind her back". "Yes, Ma'am". Her lowered the chain and freed her hands and feet. "Please, Charlie!", she whispered and turned her back to let him clip her wrist bands together. "Don't worry". "And now you". The man cuffed Charlie's hands, prodding both of them towards the hotel.

In the suite he strung up Rosie spread-eagle in the hanging shackles, feet well off the floor. "Isn't she just gorgeous? I can hardly wait". His hands roamed the beautiful body. "But a bit too dirty. Lick her clean, boy, starting with her feet". The clients sat down in two armchairs to watch the cuffed boy's tongue licking dirt and sweat off the brown body. "Delicious, isn't she?" "Yes, Sir". 'If you just knew how much I enjoy this, and Rosie too'. He licked eagerly and felt her shiver under his ministrations. "Don't forget her arse, boy". "No, Sir". He parted the cheeks with his nose and licked up and down her crack, bored into her hole and crawled around to lick her wet slit. She moaned softly, squirming in her chains. "Don't overdo it, boy. You're here to please us, not her". "No, Sir". He licked up her stomach, the firm breasts, her neck and armpits. "I can't reach her arms, Sir". "Doesn't matter". The man rose and released the sawhorse. "Here, boy!" Charlie padded over and had his shorts hauled down. "Lean against one side and spread your legs". His ankles were cuffed to the legs of the horse and the man released Rosie, only to cuff her hands behind her again and chain her facing her boyfriend. He fetched two pairs of clamps for their nipples and tied them to each other, tightening the string until their chests met, then stood back to admire his work. "Perfect! Which one do you want to start with, dear?" "The girl". "OK". Charlie tensed when his arsecheeks were parted. "Ah! I'd forgotten that you didn't have time to prepare". The man fetched a tube of jelly and squeezed a copious amount into the boy's virgin arse. Charlie stared into his beloved's eyes, reading her love and pity. "You're very tight, boy, not used to this?" "No, Sir". Charlie gasped when a long cock slowly forced its way into him. "What about you, girl?" "No, Sir". "Better grease her too, dear". "Sure". The woman rose to use the lube on Rosie's arse. 'What a pervert', the brown girl thought, 'First Charlie and then me. Ouch!' Pain shot through her breasts when the boy moved and he mouthed, 'Sorry'. She nodded and saw him look shocked over her shoulder, then screamed, more in surprise than pain. The woman had hit her bare buttocks with a flogger.

"Aah! So fucking narrow". The man pumped Charlie's hole in time with the lashes his wife delivered to Rosie's arse. "Better change now, or I can't do the girl". He withdrew and kissed the woman when they changed places. His slimy tool was eased into the hot hole and the flogger hit Charlie's violated arse. The tormented teenagers moaned and screamed when involuntarily jerking under the combined onslaught, causing the clamps to stretch their nipples. At last the man came with a shout of joy and slid out of the aching hole. "Satisfied?" "Yes, darling, very". He kissed his wife and went to the bathroom, while she released the two slaves from their restraints, but left on the nipple clamps. "My turn. On your back on the bed, girl!" Grimacing with disgust when she felt sperm running down her legs, Rosie lay down gingerly and was surprised that her arse didn't hurt as much as she'd expected. 'A flogger stings, but the pain doesn't last', as Jackie had told them. She was stretched spread-eagle and the woman straddled her chest. "Auuw! Forgot about those". She raised her bum and wrenched off the clamps. Rosie screamed and whimpered, but was cut short when a hairy pussy closed her mouth. "Stop complaining, slavegirl, and get working!" The woman leaned forward to grab the headboard. "And you rim my arse, boy". Charlie gulped, but dutifully knelt between Rosie's widespread legs and opened the woman's cheeks to seek the brown hole. Her husband came back when she was moaning and shivering on the brink of orgasm. "Good?" "Yess, oh my God, yeess!" She screamed and came violently, her juices spurting into the working girl's mouth. "God, that was heavenly!" She regained her breath and Charlie helped her off the bed. "Very good, slaves. You can clean up here and leave. We've booked you for a full shift, but don't need you any more. A bit of extra free time as a bonus". "Thank you, Ma'am, thank you", Charlie stammered, genuinely surprised.

"Fantastic place". The two clients led Ann and Chris to the dungeon below the hotel. They'd served them breakfast and were later fucked in turn by both of them. Now they stared in horror at the scene. They'd seen the dungeon in course of their training, but not in use. It was a grand room, with a high ceiling, supported by stone columns, and floor and walls made of rough-cut stone blocks, dimly lit by electric torches. The model of a medieval torture chamber. A naked girl was chained on a rack, whimpering when the man beside it turned the wheel another notch and her arms and legs were stretched even further, almost bursting from their sockets. A great wheel held a young man, hanging along it by his wrists. A leather band was tied around his ballsack and a container hung from it. His client, a woman in her fifties, was throwing lead pellets into the bucket one at a time. Every time three or four balls were added, the wheel moved a bit. "Not far now, slave". "No, Ma'am", he hissed between clenched teeth, sweat pouring all over his body. "But this is great fun, thank you for suggesting it". "I'm happy to please you, Ma'am, aargh!" The next ball made the wheel turn again to allow him reaching the floor with his toes and relieve at least some of the pain in his arms. Another girl was bent almost triple to fit into a small iron cage hanging from the ceiling. Her client stood below, amusing himself by moving the cage around with an iron bar, buried in her pussy. The rack wheel clicked again and the girl screamed hoarsely. One of the guards rose from a chair beside the door and went over to look at her. He touched her arm and she screamed again. "You have to release her now, Sir. She can't take any more". The client nodded and turned the wheel back, and the tormented girl sighed with relief.

"Yeah, fantastic", Ann's client repeated. "But we've got things to do". He led her to a set of double stocks with numerous holes for restraining a victim. "On your back, place yourself in the slots". The naked blonde lay shivering on the rough stones while the boards were closed around her neck and wrists. "Feet up". She raised her legs and had her ankles chained together and to the top of the stocks. "Now you, girl". He nodded to Chris. "Sit up". He restrained her hands behind her back and helped her straddle an iron bar, placed over Ann's head, level with her feet. "Hold her for a moment", her asked his friend, and raised her feet to lock them into slots at the top of the stocks, spread on either side of Ann's, and looped a string around her big toes to keep them immobile. "Now you can't lose your balance, girl, so relax and enjoy the ride". "Yes, Sir", she whispered and leaned back to grab the bar with her chained hands. "OK, feet today, as we told you. I start with the flogger on you, Blondie, and you tell me when it stops feeling nice. My friend will use the cane on you, Cutie". He took down the multistranded whip to aim a lash at Ann's bare feet, while the other client hit Chris' strained sole. The older girl looked up into the teenager's arse and pussy, split by the bar, and gasped when the next lash hit her. She waved her feet and rubbed them against each other to relieve the pain. Chris jumped every time the cane cut into her tender soles, but none of the girls cried out. After ten lashes, Ann's torturer lowered the flogger and came round to look down at her. "How was that?" "Hot, Sir, but you can use a bit more strength. It hurts, but not badly, and it helps that I can move my feet". "And they look so cute waving like that. OK, next ten". The other client had changed sides and was ready to cane Chris' left foot. "And what do you say, Cutie?" "A bit too hard, I think, or maybe you're hitting the same spot too often, Sir". "Yeah, could be that. Let's try what hurts most, shall we? Toes first". He struck out and the girl whimpered. "Balls of the foot". This time she just flinched. "Instep". She screamed. "Too hard?" "Yes, Sir, much harder than on my other foot". "OK, heel". She took it passively. "As I thought, balls or heels are best, if we want to hit more than a few times". "Seems so, but if you can move your feet a bit, it's not so bad, is it?" "No, Sir. I could feel you did me harder this time, but it's still bearable", Ann sighed.

Don was raking sand on the clients' beach when another boy came running. "Hey, move your arse! Room 33". "Aw, shit! There goes that film", the handsome blond boy sighed. "Tough, but I'll tell you about it". "Yeah, thanks a lot". Don handed his fellow the rake, received a friendly slap to his shoulder and ran off. He entered the locker room, took off his restraints and jumped into a shower to wash his body and hair with a fine, faintly scented soap, dried himself and grabbed a tube of jelly to lubricate his arsehole, cleaned the cubicle and threw away the towel for washing, then turned to the intercom. "Hey, 33, what's that?" "First timer, Don", a girl's voice answered, "Female, 22". "That young!" "Yes, unusual". "OK, just a loincloth, then". "Good luck". He fastened the square piece of white, transparent silk with a golden chain around his hips, adjusted it to hang down in front of his genitals, gave himself a last inspection in the mirror and hurried to the service lift. Two minutes later he entered the suite. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor while closing the door and crossing to position himself with his back to the great open window, clasp his hands behind his neck and spread his legs. Nothing happened for what seemed a long time and he began to wonder if he was in the right room. "You have a strong back", a soft voice came from behind. 'On the balcony', he thought. "Come out here". He turned and passed though the doors to catch a glimpse of a blonde girl, reclining in a deck chair, before he took up his position again and lowered his eyes. "Come closer". He went beside the chair and his loincloth was raised. A small, well-manicured hand touched his long member and hefted his balls. Trained by long practice he had no trouble remaining limp. "Look at me". He raised his eyes to see a very beautiful, slim young woman, dressed in a black string bikini. A hard squeezing of his balls made him flinch. "So you're a painslut?" She squeezed again, harder. "No, Miss". "No? Why are you here then?" "For the money, Miss". "Which I'm paying. Fetch a riding crop". "Yes, Miss". He hurried to the bedroom and came back to kneel beside her, offering the evil instrument of pain. "Bend over the rail". She took the crop and rose, while he jumped up to place his stomach on the glass rail, grab the top with both hands and bend at the waist, spreading his legs and bracing himself. At a distance he could see the boy, who'd fetched him, raking sand. A vicious lash cut across his arsecheeks. "One, Miss. Thank you, Miss", he gasped. The next lash struck just below his arse. "Two, Miss. Thank you, Miss". 'Shit, too hard!', he thought. "Three, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "You know, Don". She hit him again. "I had a boyfriend". "Four, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "Another Don". "Five, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "A real arsehole". "Six, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "He dumped me". "Seven, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "I was fool enough to love that bastard". "Eight, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "So now I hate all Dons". "Nine, Miss. Thank you, Miss". "Bad luck for you, rent boy!" "Ten, Miss. Thank you, Miss. Aargh!". The crop had hit precisely along a previous cut and the whipped boy felt something running down his leg. "Room 33. This is a warning. That drew blood. You must let the slave clean himself and change to hit another part of his body". She hit him once more to make him scream, then dropped the crop. "OK, wimp. Clean up". Don loosened his desperate grip of the railing and sank to his knees. "Thank you, Miss", he moaned and bowed to kiss her bare feet. "I can run down to the locker room or use your bathroom if you don't want to wait, Miss". "Don't waste my time!" "No, Miss. Thank you, Miss". He crept into the sitting room on his hands and knees, then rose to hurry to the bathroom. 'Bitch!', he thought, 'But at least the warning system works'. He'd been on the island for a year and a half, but never with a client that rough. The towel turned red with blood, when he dabbed his arse gently, and he had to use another before anointing himself with the lotion from the bathroom cabinet. The girl entered when he was putting away the towels and cleaning the sink. "Get a move on, rent boy!" "Yes, Miss". He followed her to the bedroom, where the hanging shackles had been lowered, and placed himself under them without being told, raising his hands to have them fastened and then had to rise on tiptoe when she turned the button to haul him up. 'At least not hanging', he thought, but was soon proved wrong. The girl fetched a spreader bar and strapped it to his ankles. 'Shit, what a damn bitch!' His wrists hurt like hell when his body swung free of the floor. She stood in front of him, looking his almost naked and stretched body over with an evil smile. "Now, little Donny, what do you suggest that I do to you?" "If you want to whip me some more, you could use a flogger on my back, Miss. It doesn't draw blood". "But it hurts?" "Yes, Miss". She sent him a hateful glance and disappeared from sight. Seconds later, breath was almost knocked from his lungs, when not a flogger, but the nine tails of a cat hit his exposed back. It fell again and again in rapid succession, without giving him a chance of calling out the number of lashes, which normally pleased the clients and delayed the whipping. He moaned and whimpered and finally screamed shrilly. Tears were running down his face and he screamed again and again. Suddenly she stopped and he hung limply, trying to will away the pain. After a time, his brain cleared and he heard what sounded like sobbing. 'What's she up to now?' Still nothing happened, the sobbing just continued. At last the shackles were lowered and he dropped to his knees. She freed his hands, only to cuff them behind his aching back. "Please me". He heard her moving and turned to see her face down on the bed. "Yes, Miss". Wincing with pain, he laboured to reach the bedside, his feet still trapped in the spreader bar. 'And just what is it you want, bitch?', he thought and bowed to lick the sole of her left foot. She didn't stir and he went on licking, sucked on her toes and continued up her ankle and shin. Still no reaction, she just lay there with her face buried in her arms. 'Shall or shall not?', he mused when reaching her thigh. 'What the hell! She may like it, and she'll whip me anyway'. He caught the string of her bikini between his teeth and loosened it, drew the flimsy piece of cloth aside and licked her arsecheek. 'Here we go'. He took a deep breath, listening for an angry outburst before gently easing his tongue into her crack to reach the puckered hole. He licked around it and tried stabbing into it. A shiver ran through the girl and he renewed his efforts, but was interrupted when she suddenly rolled on her back. 'Shit, here we go again!', he thought and sat back, lowering his head.

"Don!" He didn't look up. "Don!" Her voice sounded strange. "Don, I'm sorry". He dared raise his head and saw her sitting upright in bed, tears streaming down her face and her arms stretched towards him. "Hold me, Don!" 'I'll be damned, now she wants to cuddle. Stupid bitch!' "I'm sorry, Miss, but I can't just now". She looked genuinely surprised, as if she'd forgotten his restraints. "Oh!" She jumped from the bed and quickly freed his hands and feet, then knelt beside him to throw her arms around his naked body, making him wince with pain. "Can you forgive me, Don?" She buried her face at his chest, sobbing loudly. He dared not answer, but when she remained there, gently caressed her hair. "Can you, Don?" "I, eh, IĄ­ There's nothing to forgive, Miss. I'm here to please you". "But I hurt you!" "I'm here to please you, Miss", he repeated. "Make love to me, Don". "Yes, Miss. How do you want me?" "Put me on the bed". "Yes, Miss". He clutched her body and struggled to his feet to place her gently on the big bed. She spread her legs. "Come into me, Don". "Yes, Miss". His cock was limp and he pumped it frantically, while kneeling between the legs and looking at her sex. She was shaved and her lips were already parted, her clit protruding above them. 'Got excited, did you, whipping a defenceless boy? Bitch!' He rose on his knees to put his hands on either side of her body, aiming for the wet slit and easing himself in. "Yess, oh, yesss", she sighed. He looked at her firmly closed eyes and began a slow pumping, without letting any other part of his body touch her. The sighs turned to moans, whimpers and at last small cries, while she trembled under him and finally screamed. He felt her juices gushing around his stiff cock, but was careful not to come, just stopped for a moment, without leaving her, and when her rapid breath subsided, resumed pumping ever so slowly. She opened her eyes and he saw large tears running down her flushed cheeks.

"That was good, Don. I don't think I can take any more, not right now". "No, Miss". He withdrew and carefully licked her clean. "Can I bring you anything, Miss?" He dropped from the bed to kneel beside it. "A glass of wine, please". "Yes, Miss, white?" She nodded and he rose. "Two glasses, Don". "Yes, Miss". He'd hurriedly cleaned himself with one of the wet cloths stored in the drink cabinet and was opening a bottle of Chablis, when she entered from the bedroom. Her bra was gone and she'd wrapped a towel around her waist. "On the balcony". "Yes, Miss". He put bottle and glasses on a tray, added a bowl of chocolates and came out to place it on the table beside her deck chair, knelt and filled a glass. "Your wine, Miss". She took it with a sad smile. "Have one yourself, Don. You must need it". She toasted him silently and they took a sip. The slave lowered his head. 'Bad girl, good girl, and now what?' "I really am sorry. That was inexcusable!" He dared not answer. "I have an aunt. She'd never told me before, but she comes here regularly, it seems, and when I complained about that bastard, raged and raved about him, she suggested a holiday here, to get away and to overcome my anger. She said the best thing for me, just now, was to hit someone, a boy, and since that bastard was out of my reach, I'd find plenty of whipping boys here". She fell silent and took another sip of her wine. "And I did. God, what a bitch I am! Can you forgive me?" "There's nothing to forgive, Miss. I 'am' a whipping boy". "Why? You said you don't like it" "For the money, Miss", he repeated "How much do you earn?" "I'm not allowed to tell, Miss". "I hope it's a lot. It must be, with the prices they have here". Once again he kept silent, but thought: 'Yeah, that bastard gets rich'. "How long have you been here?" "About eighteen months, Miss". "And for how long are you staying?" "Another six months, Miss". "So a contract is for two years?" "Yes, Miss". "Why do you need that money?" "To go to university, Miss". "How old are you? Oh, I remember, twenty-one". "Yes, Miss". "Where are you from?" "We're not allowed to tell clients about our private lives, Miss". "Why not?" "That's the rule, Miss". "And if you break it, you get fined?" "Yes, Miss". "It must have some heavy punishment clauses, your contract". "Yes, Miss". 'You bet it has, my back in shreds!'

She fell silent again, looking out over the blue ocean. "For how long can I keep you?" "Twelve hours, Miss". 'And you can do a lot during that time, bitch!' "Can I have you back?" "Yes, Miss, after my rest period". "How long is that?" "Another twelve hours, Miss" "I can only keep you for twelve hours?" "A client can't book a slave for more than twelve hours at one time, unless the slave is owned, Miss". 'Shit, fool!' He could have bitten off his tongue. "So when you leave, I'll get another boy?" "Unless you prefer a female slave, Miss". "Hmm", she sipped again. "Would you mind if I asked for you again, Don?" "That's for you to decide, Miss. A slave serves the client who requires him, if he's available". "What was that about 'owned'?" 'Shit!' "Some clients prefer buying a slave, Miss". "And if I do, you'll stay with me permanently?" "Yes, Miss". "How much do you cost?" "I don't know, Miss. I don't know if I'm for sale, not all slaves are. The Director decides that". "And I may treat you any way I like, if I own you?" "Yes, Miss, within the limits stated in the rules". 'And would you just love that, bitch!' "For how long can I own you?" "Six months, Miss". "Not less, or more?" "No, Miss". "Where do I ask about buying you?" "At the Director's office, Miss". "I think I'd like to, Don". "Yes, Miss". 'Shit, bloody deep shit!' "I promise not to hurt you again". "Yes, Miss". 'Yeah, yeah, and you'll break that promise, bitch!' "My aunt was wrong. Whipping another Don didn't help me, when it's that bastard I want to hurt. But it would help if I had a nice and polite young man like you around for a time. Yes", she sat up, "How do I contact the Director?" "I can call Reception for you, Miss". "Do that". "Yes, Miss".

Half an hour later, when she'd changed into skirt and halter-top, the Director arrived at the suite. "You have asked for me?" "Yes, I want to buy this s.., Don". He looked searchingly at her. "May I ask why?" "Because I do!" She looked haughtily back. "There was an...episode here. You broke one of the rules of the resort. Would that happen again?" "No, I went too far. I'm sorry". "But you liked whipping this slave?" "As a matter of fact I did not and I'll not do it again. I just want him for company". "I see. You are welcome to use him in any way you want and he expects to be treated roughly, that is why he is here. But that is of course up to you. His price is $50.000 for six months". "Agreed", she answered calmly, "And I'll stay here for the duration". "Very well. The price of the slave and half the cost of your stay is payable in advance". "You can just contact my aunt. I believe that she's well known to you". "Certainly". "Do you have a room larger than this?". "We have two bedroom suites and just now a penthouse available, with sitting- and dining-room, two bedrooms, and a roof garden with swimming-pool. The cost of that is of course considerably higher". She waved her hand. "It doesn't matter, I'll take it". "The service of two slaves is included in the rent of a penthouse. As you have your owned slave, I expect that you will not need them and the price will of course be reduced". "I'll pay the full amount, all of it in advance. I really can't be bothered with these petty details. I need a period of complete rest and recuperation". The Director looked startled for a moment, indicated a slight bow, sent the kneeling slave a stern look and left. 'Aw, shit!' Don cursed under his breath.

"At least the remaining six months of your contract will be more pleasant than the previous eighteen". "Yes, Miss". Don didn't raise his head. "Look at me, please". He read sadness in her eyes. "I won't repeat my promise, Don, but the only thing I want, need just now, is to be treated kindly. I'm rich and attract a lot of young men, but for some reason all of them, or at least those IĄ­become intimate with, treat me like dirt. I don't know why, perhaps to demonstrate that they're not chasing my money. I was losing my self-respect. But you'll be polite to me". "Yes, Miss". "You have to and I suppose that you hate, or at least despise me, but I'll forget about that and just enjoy your company". "I'll do my very best to serve you well, Miss". "Will you please rise to let me have a look at you?" 'Inspecting the merchandise, bitch?' "Show me your back". He turned and she closed her eyes in horror and shame. His arse was scarred by the deep cuts of the crop, the open wound lined with small droplets of blood. His back wore a pattern of signal red stripes from his neck to just above his arsecheeks. "Oh, my God! I'm sorry, Don, I'm so terribly sorry". He winced when her hand slid down his back. "Do you have something to ease the pain?" "I can run down to the nurse, Miss. I'll be as quick as I can". "But you put something on your Ą­behind". "Yes, Miss, but I can't reach my back". 'Stupid bitch!' "I can, fetch it and lie down on the bed". "Yes, Miss". Her hands gently and carefully anointed his back, washed his arse with a wet cloth and rubbed lotion into the stripes. "Ough!" He couldn't suppress a low moan when it stung the wound. "I'm sorry, but I have to hurt you a bit. For the last time". "Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss, you're so kind". "Kind, my foot! OK, you can get up now. I have some questions". "Yes, Miss".

He followed her back to the terrace and knelt to top up her glass. She indicated that he should take one as well. "Do you have to kneel?" "Unless ordered otherwise, a slave always kneel to a client, Miss". "You do look nice like that. It boosts a girl's ego to have a man at her feet. A naked man at that. Are you always naked, or with that funny little thing?" "Male slaves use shorts and T-shirts during rest periods and when working. When serving clients they dress or undress according to the client's wishes. Many clients prefer their slave naked, Miss". "I don't, not all the time. Can you fetch your shorts and do you have other belongings you need?" "There's a full range of clothes available for serving slaves. I can fetch anything you may want me to wear and I have to change my restraints, Miss. Owned slaves wear golden bands". "Why?" "To show that they're owned, Miss, so other clients know that they're not available, without the owner's permission, of course". "No, why do you have to wear those ugly leather bands?" "It's stated in the rules of the resort, Miss". "So I can't order you to get rid of them?" The boy hesitated. "I don't know, Miss. It's not specified in the rules". "Where are these rules?" "There's a folder in the desk, Miss. Would you want me to fetch it?" "No, not just now. What about other slaves, how do I get them?" "The same way you selected me, Miss. There's a catalogue showing the full range and an updated list of available slaves on the closed circuit TV channel". "Oh, but you see, I, eh, didn't look at them, just asked if they had a guy named Don when I arrived". "Would you want me to fetch the catalogue, Miss?" "Do you have any special friends to recommend?" "Ah, I, eh...". "And I promise not to hurt them either, Don". "No, Miss, but I... Would you like female or male slaves, Miss? Very young or more mature. Perhaps a couple. Experienced or fairly new slaves. Some slaves have special skills, Miss?" "I, oh, it... Aargh, I can't decide just now!" "No, Miss. I'm sorry to have offended you, Miss". 'Stupid bitch! You think I'll deliver my friends into you sadistic hands? No way, girlie!', he thought and bowed to kiss her bare foot softly.

They were interrupted when a receptionist entered, followed by two young men, who knelt just inside the door, while she came out to the balcony to kneel in front of the client. "Your penthouse is ready, Miss. Will it please you to let me show it to you and have your luggage brought there?" "Ah, oh, well, yes. I suppose the financial transactions have been concluded?" "Yes, Miss. The suite is yours for the next six months". "And Don is mine?" "Your slave is now owned by you for the same period, Miss". "Good, show me the penthouse. You run down to put on some shorts, Don". "Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss. What colour would you prefer, Miss?" She looked at his deeply tanned body. "White will look nice, I think, and a shirt. I don't want to look at your back just now". "No, Miss". He waited on his knees beside the receptionist until the mistress rose and swept out the suite. "Bad luck, Don", one of the other slaves whispered, looking at his striped back after the women had left. "Maybe, don't really know, Bruce. She gave me a pretty bad time, but now she says she regrets it". "Better get her things together. You've unpacked for her?" "No, her suitcases are in the bedroom, only one of them opened". "Fine, you run off now, get your golden bands, mate". Shortly after they met again at the door to the penthouse. Don now dressed and the other two struggling with two enormous suitcases and several smaller boxes. "Shit, this lady's really got some luggage". "Planning to stay for six months", Don whispered. "Aw, shit, mate! You've got to stay with her all that time?" He nodded and opened the door to see his new mistress beside the desk in the spacious parlour, flipping through the slave catalogue. He sank to his knees and bowed his head. "Will it please you to have your luggage brought in, Miss?" "Yes, Don, and you don't have to kneel unless I actually ask you to do it". "No, Miss. Thank you, Miss". He gestured to the bellboys, who ambled in. 'Bedroom', he mouthed and pointed at a door. "Will you want us to unpack for you, Miss, or shall I call a maid?" "There are so many, I can't decide". She closed the catalogue. "What was that? Oh, you do it. I'll tell you how I want it". She strode to a large bedroom, where the two slaveboys were on their knees beside the unopened suitcases. The next hour was a flurry of unpacking and hanging up her numerous dresses, skirts and blouses. She had more than twenty pairs of shoes and sandals and a seemingly endless amount of flimsy underwear. Don tried to arrange the contents of her two vanity cases, but even the spacious bathroom could hardly contain it all. The girl directed them, sitting in an armchair. "Why don't I start with those two?" She indicated the working slaveboys. "Ah, yes, Miss. I'll see if they're available". She waved her hand and the three boys exchanged troubled looks.

Part 5. Professionals.

"Hey, stop a minute". Rosie and Charlie were walking hand in hand towards the hotel to change for work, when a client called to them on his way back from a swim in the sea before breakfast. After two months on the island they were used to the routines and didn't hesitate to drop to their knees, clasp their hands behind their backs and bow their heads. "Rise to let me have look at you, girl!" "Yes, Sir". She placed herself on display and the client, a stubby man in his fifties, a couple of inches shorter than she and with a pronounced paunch, looked appreciatively at her well shaped body. "Show me your tits". Sighing inwardly, she smiled and raised the T-shirt to reveal her firm breasts. "Not bad, not bad at all". He fondled them roughly, pinching the nipples. "Drop the shorts". She kept the shirt raised with one hand and pushed down her shorts with the other. "Spread your legs. Yeah, not bad, nice pussy. Are you booked?" "I'm not on the list, Sir". He parted her labia lips and stuck a finger up her tunnel. "Why not?" "I work at the Director's office, Sir". "All day?" He went round to part her arsecheeks. "Delicious little hole you've got there". "Yes, Sir". He came back to wave his finger at her face. "Yes, Sir, what. You have a delicious arsehole or you work at the office all day?" She calmly sucked it clean. "I coach at the running track in the morning, Sir, and work at the office after that". "So you're not available?" "That's for the Director to decide, Sir. I sometimes serve on an hourly basis". "OK. Could you ask him then? Just a quickie before lunch. I'm in 42. A few stripes on that arse of yours, before I fuck it". "I shall ask the Director, Sir". He turned towards the hotel without taking any notice of the kneeling slaveboy. "Swine!", Charlie hissed under his breath, when he rose. "But at least it's only 'quickies' for you, love".

Pat opened her eyes to see her husband sleeping peacefully beside her. She snuggled closer and blew softly on his nose. "Good morning, my love", she whispered and felt his arms around her. She opened her thighs and his stiff cock penetrated her slowly, until he was buried to the hilt, then he opened his eyes and smiled to her. "Good morning". He tightened his grasp and rolled on top, fucking her with long, sensual thrusts until they came together. "Whew!" She kissed him passionately. "She hasn't worn you out yet". "No, my love, and never will, when it's you I'm making love to". Their 'Miss Jane' had left the previous evening after another of her short stays and they were once again alone in the luxurious suite. She had as usual spent most of the time in bed with Fred, while Pat kept out of their way, but the three of them had lunch and dinner together, and even if the couple were carefully polite and subservient, they enjoyed their time with her.

"Sometimes I feel guilty". Pat looked out over the glittering sea. Fred had fetched their breakfast from the main kitchen and they were enjoying their second cup of coffee. "Me too, but there's no need. Our friends may be a bit envious, but first of all happy for us. This is every slave's dream, but we're still slaves, under the same rules as they, and owned by a client, a kind client, but still a person who can order us about, use us at her whim". "I know, but it's easier for us, even if I must say that I'm surprised how soon the others have adapted to their new life. None of those from our shipment show any signs of mental trouble". "Yes, clever isn't he, the Director? Just make us understand that we have no other choice, give us a carrot, our freedom, if we don't rebel against him and sufficient time to recuperate between sessions, and we can take it". "Plus the strict rules and careful vetting of the clients. There are no real monsters among them, a few fools, but they're soon expelled. Generally more or less ordinary people, like us, but with special needs and the money to see them fulfilled". "Abusing other people can never be ordinary, Pat". "Some people like it". "I know, and between consenting adults it's acceptable, but not when the submissive is forced". "They don't know we're forced". "Maybe not, though I think some of them must have their doubts, they're not stupid, but taking advantage of other people's troubles or poverty is another, more subtle way of forcing them". "Perhaps. I won't excuse them. What I'm trying to say is that they under the circumstances behave decently". "And I'm not disagreeing, especially not if you're referring to our mistress". "No, she's a real darling. Poor Miss Jane, what shall she do when you leave, Freddie boy?" Pat grinned hugely. "Aw, you...", he grinned back, "But, by the way, who's coming for dinner?" "Jackie and Bruce. They should be off at seven, all being well". "OK, but we've better leave for work too, it's almost nine". When she learned that they in her absence usually went down to the slave camp for dinner and company, 'Miss Jane' had decreed that they could invite their fellow slaves when she was not in residence, and even cleared it with the Director, who had no objections. Now they had a couple of friends for dinner most evenings and the others enjoyed being at a suite without having to serve.

Kalia's client had watched her dance while eating his breakfast. "Nice show, but let's use those smooth limbs of yours for something more exciting". He ordered her to lie down on the floor and tied her elbows together, then turned her on her back and lowered the trapeze. "Raise your legs". He placed the bar behind her knees and raised it until she was dangling free of the floor. "Don't panic, I'll secure you". Her big toes were lashed together and tied to her thumbs, forcing her into a painful back bend. "Delicious little brown package, aren't you? So smooth". He caressed her front and teased her nipples erect, then clamped them and added some weights. The slender Indian moaned softly. "Hurt, does it?" "Yes, Sir". "Don't worry, I'll give you something else to think of". A vibrating dildo entered her lubricated cunt and she whimpered when her strained body shivered under the attack on her sensitive nerve ends. "Nice?" "No, Sir. I hurt". "I'm sorry to hear that". He forced her arsecheeks apart and rammed another dildo up her narrow passage. "Better?" "No, Sir". "Hmm, poor, poor slavegirl". He drew up a chair and sat down to enjoy her torments, sipping another cup of coffee.

"You've lodged a complaint, Sir". Jim was sent to a suite where a client had reported a power failure. "Yes, I can't get her down". The large handyman rose from his knees and looked at the naked girl, who was hanging from her wrists in the shackles, feet well off the floor. She had clothespins on her nipples and pussy lips and her back showed a pattern of bright red lines. "Too bad, Sir". Jim tried the switch and pressed another to make the trapeze come down. "Nothing wrong with the power, Sir. I'm afraid I'll have to remove the panel to examine the connections. Would you want to move to another suite, Sir?" "How long will it take?" "I can't know, Sir, but probably not more than an hour". "OK. I was just about to fuck her, so if you help me take her down, you can get on with it". "Yes, Sir. Can you raise her up a bit, so I can release her hands". The girl smiled and blew him a kiss when he freed her, and sighed with relief when allowed to stand on her feet. "On the bed, girl, spread your arms". "Yes, Sir". She lay down and was restrained again, with her wrists chained to the upper corners of the bed. Jim fetched his toolbox and opened the wall panel to look at the fixtures. The client chained the girl's legs spread over her head, fetched a small flogger and hit her wide-open pussy. "Ah! One, Sir, thank you, Sir". The whip struck again. "Aouw, ah! Two, Sir, thank you, Sir". "Shhh, ouch!. Three S..Sir, thank you, Sir". 'Clever girl', Jim thought, while working with the power switch, 'Ten, and he can't contain himself'. It took only eight strokes before the agitated man dropped the whip and jumped between the widespread legs, removed the clothespins and plunged in, pumping frantically. The girl cried out and whimpered. "Please, Sir, you're so strong, Sir. Please, Sir. You're hurting me". "Yeah, great! Damned hot fuck", he moaned. She looked over his head and winked at her fellow slave, who grinned back.

"What are your plans for today, my dears?" The Director smiled benevolently to his breakfast companions. "We'll go down to the nurse, Sir. Caroline needs a check up". "So, why? Is something wrong with you, Kitten?" "No, Sir, but I hurt a little, down there". The young girl blushed. "Oh, but...?" "She's red around her anus, Sir, and it doesn't close properly". "Ah, of course, it can happen the first few times, but you will soon get used to it". "Yes, Sir". "I think you experienced the same, Tigress?" "Yes, Sir, and I've told Caroline that it's nothing to worry about, but thought it best if Pat had a look at it". "Of course and I shall refrain from using that hole again the first few nights, even if it is delightfully narrow". "Thank you, Sir". Caroline smiled timidly. "And we would like a game of tennis, Sir". "Certainly, Tigress. Do you want a coach?" "Yes, please, Sir". "Tell Reception to find Sorenson for you. If he is booked already, they can call him off, unless he is already serving a client". "Thank you, Sir". "Can we swim in the sea, Sir". "But Kitten, you can do anything you like". "Yes, Sir. You're so kind, but some of the clients, they...". "Have the guards cordon off an area of the beach for you and you must take care to keep a lifeguard with you". "Yes, Sir. Thank you very much, Sir". The old man rose and kissed her tenderly. "You have no reason to thank me, Kitten. It is I, who am in debt. You have made me a very happy man". He turned to the elder teenager and kissed her too, whispering: "And thank you, Tigress".

As promised, Joy had gently introduced the younger girl to the pleasures of sex. When she after two weeks was convinced that she could handle it, she had suggested that Caroline watched while the Director fucked her, and when that went well, finally was holding her hand on the night when she lost her virginity. Now they went together to his bedroom most nights to be fucked, sometimes only Caroline, sometimes both of them. The night before he had made use of her arse for the first time and Joy was relieved when she took it in her stride.

"A little bit tighter, I think". Ann whimpered when the rope around the base cut even deeper and her left breast swelled to resemble a large red pear. "Yes, that's it!" The man took a step back to look appreciatively at his handiwork. His slavegirl was astride the sawhorse, hands cuffed behind her back and long legs stretched to give her a precarious toehold. 'Always my tits', she thought, 'Wish I had Millie's'. "How does it feel, girl?" "I hurt, Sir", she whispered and let large tears roll down her cheeks. "Of course you do, the question is how much. Do I clamp those big buttons now or do I whip your balloons, or both?" "Please, Sir". "Please what?" "Please don't hurt me any more, Sir, please!" "Why not?" "If I hurt so much, I can't please you, Sir". "But you do please me!" "Yes, Sir, but don't you want relief, Sir?" She looked at his swollen cock. "Well, there's that, of course. How would you please me?" "Can I get off this, Sir? I'll show you". "OK, hop down". "Thank you, Sir". She winced with pain when sliding along the sharp edge, making it cut into her crotch, and sighed with relief when she could drop to her knees. She ambled laboriously forward, careful to swing her large breasts seductively from side to side, until she could line them up to the stiff tool. "That's nothing new, girl". "Please, Sir". She turned sideways and touched her hot nipple briefly to the engorged head, turned the other way and touched it with the other nipple, then back again to press a nipple a little harder to it. She continued twisting and touching, pressing a little harder each time. The client stared mesmerised at the bobbing breasts and squirmed every time they touched him. "Yeah, yeah, go on. Shit, this is hot!" The delightful torture went on and on, until he suddenly felt his cock convulse and spurt a long stream of sperm over the red mounds. "Aah, shit!" Another spurt followed and another. He stumbled back and sank down on a chair. "Shit, girl, that was fantastic! You hardly touched me, never happened to me before". The blonde bowed her head. "Thank you, Sir. I'm happy to have pleased you". "Yeah, OK. I owe you one, I guess". He got to his feet and unclipped her wrist restraints. "You can take off those ropes and get me a beer". "Thank you, Sir". She bowed to kiss his feet. 'Men are so easy to manipulate. Their brains are in their cocks'.

"Bring me another cup". "Yes, Sir". 'Arsehole!' Chris had been sent to serve a client breakfast at the beginning of her shift and was relieved when told that he was not known for submitting his slaves to heavy torture, but could be very demanding. 'And he sure was'. He had fondled her in the usual way when she arrived, stripped off her flimsy clothes and stuck a finger up her cunt, commenting about its narrowness, and then placed her in this particularly unpleasant bondage. Her nipples were clamped firmly and ten-inch chains run from the clamps to her wrist restraints. Other clamps on her labia lips had chains to her ankle bands, forcing her to kneel. 'Shit!' She winced when grabbing his coffee cup from the table in the sitting room, refilled it and began a slow shuffle towards the balcony. Every time she moved her knees the chains tugged at her lips and she had to fight herself not to drop the cup when pain shot through her breasts. 'Not into torture, but you sure know how to hurt and humiliate a girl, don't you, arsehole?', she thought, reached the balcony and could at last put the cup down on the low table beside his deck chair. "Suck me, but don't let me come". "Yes, Sir". She manoeuvred herself between his legs and engulfed his fat, uncircumcised dick. 'Argh, didn't your mother teach you to wash under the foreskin?'.

"Ouch!" Fernando struggled against his bonds when yet another clothespin was added to the row already adorning his long cock. "Almost finished, only two left". The swarthy slave closed his eyes, hissing in agony when the client deftly applied a pin on each side of his piss slit. "Keep your eyes open, boy. I want to see your pain". He was sitting on a straight-backed chair, hands tied behind its back. His feet were dragged up and tied to the sides of the seat, and a thin string cut below his cockhead to tie his member to his neck collar. The client, a man in his late thirties, had begun with his toes, then put rows of pins on the edge of his feet, his calves, inner thighs, across his abdomen, the sides of his chest and down his arms. Two circles of pins surrounded his nipples, which were clamped in alligator clips. The man took a step back to survey his efforts. "Very nice, don't you think?" "Yes, Sir", the tortured boy moaned. "Yes, now let's enjoy it". The client fetched a beer and sat down in an armchair in front of Fernando. "You know". He took a swing and opened his fly to haul out a stiff cock. "I've always liked this, inflicting pain, little by little, letting it build slowly. It's fine to whip a slave, we'll do that later, but to see him squirming in pain, reading it in his eyes, that's one of life's real pleasures. So now I'll sit here, comfortably playing with myself, and watch you getting used to your decorations, growing numb. It'll take some time, an hour perhaps, but you'll get there. Then we'll reverse the process and, believe me, it hurts even more when they come off". "Yes, Sir. I know, Sir". "Of course, you've felt the bite of a clothespin before". "Yes, Sir". "But not so elaborate as this time?" "No, Sir". "I'm happy to hear that, boy. I pride myself to be an expert". "Yes, Sir". 'At least my Maria is safe', he thought and let his thoughts drift away from the present to the vision of her supple body stretched out on their bed, squirming under his soft caressing her ample breasts.

Her shifts were regular. She went to the hotel every morning at seven to arrange breakfast for the Director and the two girls, then waited in the lobby until one of them sent down the private lift. Upstairs, she helped the girls bathe and dress, before they went to the Director, served the three occupants while they enjoyed their breakfast, and then, after the Director had left, spent the morning cleaning and tidying the flat. At first the girls had tried to help her, but she made it clear that she wanted to be their servant, grateful that they'd saved her from the destiny of a working slavegirl, and they'd grown used to being waited hand and foot. The Director took very little notice of her and never touched her, just seemed to enjoy looking at her body, scarcely hidden by the loose transparent blouse and slit skirt, he ordered her to wear. She served the girls lunch and was on most days told to take the rest of the afternoon off, free to go to the slave camp, went back to serve dinner and was then dismissed until next morning. A peaceful life, for a slavegirl of the island at least.

"42! Shit, he just asked for Rosie". "And he'll get her, at eleven, for one hour". "Shit!" "Take care, Charlie. He likes warming up with a male slave, but is strictly to girls. Expect a whipping in the chains, he uses the cat, then to be put on display while he canes Rosie and fucks her arse. He gets off dominating a boy and showing it to the girl he fucks, so scream and cry, beg and for God's sake don't tell him you're close, it'll only make him worse". "Yeah, shit!" "Isn't all of it?" Ben entered to hear the last exchange over the intercom. "Easy, mate, easy!" "Yeah, for you to say. Rosie and I have been booked together again. I hate it!" "Same here". Ben clicked the intercom. "11, what's that?" "Female, likes watching". "Watch what?" "A male slave fucking a girl in the arse, bent over the rail and licking the client". "OK". "I'm afraid that's not all". "Course not", Ben sighed. "He whips the girl's arse first, while she's licking, and I mean whip, to make her scream into the client's pussy". "OK, easy enough". "Not quite, the marks must be very clear to see". "Shit! Liz told me she had to be there in an hour". "Yes, for a quickie, with you". "Shit!" "Sure, but up you go. She likes her slave at her feet, so get down as soon as you arrive". "How old is she?" "38, and apart from the girl/girl thing, she's straight, just the good old fashioned fuck two or three times". "OK, OK. Thanks". He cut the connection and shrugged his shoulders. The boys showered and greased their arseholes to be on the safe side. They were adjusting their aprons in the mirror when the receptionist called again. "Ben's off". "What?" "Sure. The princesses need you. Get up to the tennis court, right now. Stay with them until after lunch, then back to coaching". "Bless the little darlings. What about Liz?" "Booked as ordered, I'm afraid". "Shit, but at least I won't have to hurt her, and it's just a quickie". "No, Bruce will do it, and you and Rosie are still on, Charlie". "Of course".

"Nothing to worry about, dear", Pat assured the young girl when she saw Caroline and Joy from the clinic. "It does hurt a bit, but the men like it". "Does Fred...?" "Yes, dear. I think most couples have at least tried and many women like it too". "Do you?". "Yes, sometimes, but it hurts because Fred is very big, so we don't do it that way very often, but we do it". "Do you think my mum and dad...?" "I can't know, dear, but probably. There's nothing wrong with it". "No, I guess not". The teenager suddenly threw her arms around the older woman's neck, whispering: "I hate him!" "I know, dear, and you are such a brave girl. We love you, all of us. The older slaves tell that he's never been in such a good mood before. There have been several complaints from clients lately, but he hasn't dealt out any punishments. Your sacrifice is not in vain, Caroline". "Thank you, I'll be good". "To us, Caroline". "Yes". They exchanged a kiss and the girls walked away, hand in hand and followed by two guards. 'Swine! Disgusting, perverted swine. I could kill him!', Pat thought and turned back to the clinic.

Ben was waiting at the tennis court when the teenagers came strolling across the lawn. He straightened and bowed to them. The Director had made it known that, although formally still slaves, the girls should be treated with respect by their fellows, that their wishes should be met, and that slaves, who were not actually serving a client, should consider him or herself booked if the girls wanted their company. They had discussed it at the slave camp and agreed that they could handle it and that it would provide an opportunity to gain respite. The girls were careful not to exploit the Director's good will, always telling him what they would like to do during the day without making any demands, leaving it to him to offer them long term service of a slave, if he thought they needed it. They went out most days, sometimes to the camp, but now more often to stroll the grounds of the resort, relaxing in the sun and calling a slave or two from their tedious work to serve and entertain them, thus making them safe from clients for a while.

"And now what?" Ling had shown the client how to put her and her Japanese roommate in a rope harness, with their hands tied between their small breasts. "The trapeze, Sir. If we're hanging over it, back to back, you can tie our legs together. It's called the double-mouth-girl, Sir". "And it hurts?" "Yes, Sir, the pressure on our legs is very painful, and it grows worse the longer you leave us like that". "But I can't fuck you". "If placed at the right level, you can sit down comfortably, Sir, and turn us around as it please you, to enjoy the double mouth". "Sounds good, interesting innovation. You can keep me hard, but not let me come". "Yes, Sir, if it may please you". "Yeah, and the longer you hang, the more you moan. Nothing like hot breath on a stiff cock". He tied them as instructed and took a step back to survey his work. "Looks good, but can be improved". He fondled Ling's breasts and pinched her nipples. "Some clamps, I think". He fetched two pairs and deftly crushed her small nubbins, then did the same to her roommate. "Yes, much better". He tied strings from Ling's clamps to her friend's, tightening them to drag their breasts sideways and finally fetched a chair to sit down. "Now suck me". The Chinese girl opened her mouth to capture his thick cock.

"Fun, don't you think?" Millie whimpered when the cane hit the sole of her foot again. "Just two strings and yet you're helpless". "Yes, Sir", she gasped. "And it's good for you. Helps them tiny things grow. Your boyfriend will be so happy". "Thank you, Sir, aauw!" The cane hit again and she jerked her foot. He had made her lie down on the bed, chained her wrists to the bedposts, and then looped fishing line around the small nipples on her almost flat chest, spread her legs, bent at the knee, and tied the lines to her big toes. "You sure look funny". He chuckled and hit her feet again and again, while she cried and screamed in pain, unable to keep them from jerking her tortured nubbins. 'Why my feet?', she thought, 'Are they so cute? Good thing they warned me to use the lotion on my poor nipples'. "And now the dessert". The client dropped the cane and knelt between her legs to ease himself into her gaping hole. "Yeah, you may lack some equipment, but the other end compensates for it". He pumped her with long, slow strokes. "A flat chest goes with a real tight cunt. Did you know that?" "No, Sir", she gasped. "Few guys do, always looking for big boobies and getting sloppy cunts". He grabbed her right foot and licked its burning sole. "Delicious, aah, few things taste better than a hot foot".

Bruce was on his knees, hands drawn between his legs and wrists locked to ankles, when Liz entered the suite to display herself. The client, a short, plump woman, didn't acknowledge her presence, but went on reading her book, with her high-heeled sandals resting comfortably on the boy's bare arse. Liz stood patiently in the display position, until the woman twenty minutes later finally closed the book and looked up. "Release my slave and come to the bedroom". "Yes, Ma'am". She swung down her feet and left the sitting room. "Shit, cramped all over, been like that for hours!" Bruce winced with pain when he tried to rise. His fellow slave helped him up. "Sorry, Liz". "Don't be, just lay it on good. I won't be sitting down anyway until the end of my shift". The client had undressed and was on the bed, her legs spread wide to show an extremely hairy crotch. "Don't bother undressing, girl, just lean over the rail and lick me. You chain her feet, boy, and cuff her hands behind her back". "Yes, Ma'am". Liz positioned herself and bent to reach the bush with her mouth. The client adjusted her position and sighed contentedly when the skilled tongue parted her lips. "Yess, now show me how good you are, girl, and you drape her skirt over her back". "Yes, Ma'am". He clipped Liz' ankle restraints to the legs of the bed and bared her tempting globes. "Mmm". The woman closed her eyes, shivering under the intimate caresses. "She's good". "Thank you, Ma'am. Liz is happy to serve you well". "Lesbian?" "No, Ma'am". "Your girlfriend?" "No, Ma'am, just friend". "Good. Cane her arse and make sure to lay them on hard". "Yes, Ma'am". He fetched a long cane and lashed at the exposed buttocks. Liz screamed and the woman shivered. The cane fell again and again, drawing long stripes across the pale globes, while the whipped girl screamed into the hot pussy. "Two more, and then fuck her arse", the client moaned. "Yes, Ma'am". Bruce marked his fellow again, dropped the cane, and lined up to plunge into the tight passage. The slavegirl screamed and whimpered, but never stopped using her tongue, and at last the client crashed through a heavy orgasm. Bruce stopped his pumping and withdrew, while Liz carefully lapped up the juices running from the older woman's gaping hole. "Ooh! You can stop now, girl. That was good, exceptionally good!" "Thank you, Ma'am". The slavegirl straightened and rubbed her burning globes with her cuffed hands. "Release her and you show me that arse". "Yes, Ma'am". Bruce unclipped her restraints and she went to the bedside to present her flaming red buttocks. The woman let her hand slide over them to feel the heat and the clearly raised welts. "Very good, both of you". "Thank you, Ma'am", the slaves answered in unison. "You can go now, girl, and you wash that dick and come back to give me a good long fuck". "Yes, Ma'am".

"Aargh! Please, Sir, please no more". Rosie heard the all too familiar sound of leather hitting bare flesh when she entered the suite and hurried to the bedroom. Charlie had his neck and wrists trapped in the stocks, ankles lashed to his upper thighs. The client, who had fondled her that morning, was working his muscular back over with the cat. "Please, Sir, please!" The slave's hair was matted with sweat, tears were streaming down his cheeks and snot running from his nose. "Wimps! That's what you are, all of you big hulks, but when you meet a real man you break down like schoolboys". "Aargh! Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, you're so strong!", the tall teenager sobbed helplessly. The cat struck again and the client took a step back. "Wimp!", he sneered and caught sight of the half-naked Rosie. "About time, slavegirl. What do you think about this Tarzan?" "Not much of a man, Sir", she answered calmly and loosened her waist chain to let the flimsy skirt drop to the floor. "Not like you, Sir". She stepped up to him, wriggling her hips seductively and cupping her breasts. "Thank you, Sir". "What for?" "Requesting me, Sir. Office work is so boring and I've hardly thought of anything but your wonderful hard cock in my arse. Feel how wet I am". She rubbed her hairless crotch on his thigh. "Yeah, dreaming of a real man, were you, slut?" He grabbed her breasts, mauled them roughly and bit her nipples. She looked over his head at her boyfriend, who shook his shoulders and sent her a broad grin, mouthing: 'I love you'.

"Yeah". The client bit her hardened nipple again and she whimpered. "Yeah". Two of his fingers stabbed into her pussy. "Dripping wet, aren't you, cunt?" "Yes, Sir. Please, Sir". She'd fingered herself on the way up in the lift to prepare for her act. "Please what, cunt?" "Please fuck me, Sir. Please put your wonderful hard dick into me. Please let me feel how it is to be taken by a real man, Sir. Please, Sir, please!" She closed her eyes and moaned with lust, thrusting her hips forward to catch more of the probing fingers. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, slut?" "Yes, Sir, but please, Sir, please use my narrow hole. Please whip my arse and ram your man meat into me, hard!" The fingers waved in front of her face and she eagerly sucked them clean. "OK, since you beg, cunt, bend over the bed rail". "Yes, Sir, but, Sir, can I lean over the stocks so that useless slaveboy can see how a real man makes my juices run?" "Yeah, great, do that". She grabbed the bar on either side of Charlie's trapped head and bent over. A sharp pain spread in her buttocks when the client swished down savagely with a cane. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Please give me another, Sir, please!" "Yeah, great arse you've got there, whore!" The cane hit her again. "Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Please give me another, Sir, please". The slow caning continued and he waited for her pleadings before hitting her again. "Six, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Please, Sir, please ram your rock hard cock into me now, Sir. Please!" She reached back and opened her arsecheeks to show the puckered hole. The client lowered the cane and stared. "Yeah, gosh, what a horny slut! Can't wait now, can you?" "Please, Sir". She wriggled again and cried out when his puny tool slid into the well-lubricated passage. "Aargh, Sir, oouw! You're so big, Sir", she whimpered. "Yeah, not used to that, are you?" He humped her frantically. "No, Sir. Ooh, aieeh! I, ooh, I'm so full". The excited man threw back his head and bellowed while his sperm spurted into her bowels. "Siir!", she screamed and collapsed over the stocks.

"Shit, that was hot!" The client withdrew to sink down on a chair and Rosie threw herself at his feet to swallow the shrunken shrimp. "Umm, Sir. You're soo good to me". She let go and looked longingly at him. "Please, Sir, please allow me to suck your wonderful cock. Please, Sir!" "A horny whore, aren't you?" "Yes, Sir. It's not often I serve a real man. Please, Sir!" Her eyes begged him. "Kay, then, take your time". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. You're so kind, Sir". She bowed to lick his hairy ballsack, sucking each of the small nuts into her mouth, and the client moaned with lust. "Yeah, suck 'em good, whore!" Her mouth engulfed his tool and she used all her skills to make it hard again, blowing and sucking on it until he at length managed to deposit a dribble of sperm in her mouth. "Aieeh, Sir, thank you. Oh, my God, what a wonderful taste and so thick!" She licked him clean and looked admiringly at his limp body. He was breathing heavily, near collapse. "Yeah", he croaked, "Yeah! Christ, but you're good, girl!" "Thank you, Sir, but you need rest now, Sir. Even strong men like you must take care of themselves. Come, let me help you to your bed, Sir". She hauled him to his feet and supported him to lie down, gave his limp tool one last kiss and tucked the sheets around him. "Sleep well, Sir". "Yeah, sure", he mumbled. "You won't want to see this useless slaveboy when you wake up, do you, Sir?" "Wha', what? No, get him out". "Yes, Sir". Shaking with silent mirth she quickly released her boyfriend and the two slaves tiptoed away. "Rosie, I love you!" Charlie caught her in a tight embrace as soon as they'd closed the door to the suite. "You're wonderful!" "A real fine whore?" She grinned and he closed her mouth with a kiss. "The cleverest girl in the world. Thank you, love, thank you". He kissed her passionately and they went hand in hand to the service lift. In the locker room Rosie gently washed and anointed Charlie's striped back. "Thanks, love. Let me do your arse". "Can't you wait?", she giggled and received a friendly slap. "Better get back to the office". She put on the short skirt and shirt the Director ordered his girls to wear for work, while Charlie called Reception. "He sent me away". "End of shift?" "Guess so, but I'm not sure. He may want me back". "OK. Grab something to eat and run down to the princesses at the beach. The Director wants a lifeguard with them. That'll keep you out of his hands". "Will do, thanks a lot". The lovers exchanged another kiss and parted.

"Thanks for the game, Ben". Caroline wiped her brow and handed the blond boy her racket. He nodded and stored it with his own. "Almost time for lunch, dear". Joy rose from her chair. "Let's have it at the beach". "Yes, that would be nice". "Could you fetch it for us, Ben?" "Sure, Joy, pleasure. You want me to lunch with you?" "Of course". "Thanks, Joy". The two girls went off in the direction of the beach, followed by their guards, while Ben ran towards the hotel. A client was reading in the shade of a parasol, kept over his head by a male slave. His slavegirl was standing upright on her knees beside the chair, hands restrained behind her back, and he was absently playing with the chain between her nipple clamps. A little further on two men were nursing a drink before lunch with their feet resting on the bare back of a slavegirl, who was on all fours in front of them, while another gently sucked on their toes. A group of clients were enjoying themselves with a Frisbee in the low water. Three naked girls and a young man were stretched spread-eagle on the sand, tied to convenient stakes, with a chain from their clamped nipples between their teeth. A thin string tied from dickhead to big toes stretched the male slave's cock and the girls had alligator clips on their clits. Behind them, two girls were dangling by their wrists from a tree branch, feet raised to gain a slack in the strings running from their toes to the clamps on their labia lips. Caroline shuddered and looked away while she hurried past, but Joy sent the hanging girls an encouraging smile and got a nod back. Ahead of them a couple was leading a male and a female slave along, the boy by his tightly roped dick and balls and the girl by a chain from her clit clamp. They headed for a deserted part of the beach, where a table and chairs were set up in the shadow, but were stopped by a guard. "This area is reserved, Ma'am and Sir", he told them politely, but firmly. "So!" The man looked annoyed. "For whom?" The party behind them passed and the guard bowed to the two girls. "Who are they? Looked like slaves to me". "Miss Joy and Miss Caroline are the Directors personal assistants, Ma'am". "Assistants!", she sneered, "Too delicate to mingle with the crowd that earns him his money?" "The Director has ordered this part of the beach reserved for Miss Joy and Miss Caroline, Ma'am", the guard insisted.

"An excellent performance, Miss Griffin". Rosie looked up from the screen, startled to see the Director beside her desk, and slid off the chair to kneel beside it. "Thank you, Sir", she mumbled, head bowed demurely. He sat down on the vacated chair. "Suck me". "Yes, Sir". She opened his fly and eased out his tool. "Yes, Miss Griffin, an excellent performance. Slowly, please". She stopped sucking and instead swirled her tongue around his cockhead. "Yes, aah! A model slavegirl, Miss Griffin, satisfying her client and sparing my slaveboy unnecessary exhaustion". She nodded without letting go of the stiff member. The old man closed his eyes and enjoyed her ministrations. "You may finish now, Miss Griffin". She nodded again and changed to sucking and blowing around the rod until she felt it beginning to convulse, then took it down her throat. "Yess". The Director closed his eyes and let go a stream of sperm. Rosie swallowed and carefully licked him clean. "A perfect oral service, Miss Griffin". "Thank you, Sir". She looked up with a smile. "Can I do anything else for you, Sir?" "As a matter of fact, yes, Miss Griffin. My bladder is full". She engulfed the limp tool again and swallowed the stream of piss. The two other secretaries worked steadily on, without taking apparent notice of the scene. At least one of them was used in the same way during office hours, when the Director felt the need, or could be ordered to bend over a desk for a quick fuck, most often in the arse, but counted themselves lucky to be spared serving clients regularly. "I think it time you had a spell at Reception, Miss Griffin, starting tomorrow". "Yes, Sir". "But continue your morning coaching at the running track". "Yes, Sir". "Carry on". He nodded amiably and left for the control centre.

Monitor screens covered three of the walls in the windowless room, where a guard was watching each set of ten. The Director paused behind the first and let his eyes roam the screens, showing scenes from guest suites where ten slavegirls were serving their clients. The guard leaned forward to watch one of them being hauled towards the ceiling by her wrists, tied behind her back. Her arms were wrenched up and her mouth opened in a silent scream. The client stopped the chain when she was on the tip of her toes and came round to fondle her breasts, then went back to the wall and turned the button. The girl's arms rose again and she lost her foothold, swaying helplessly. The guard grabbed a microphone. "Room 27. This is a warning. The slave's arms can be dislocated when she's hanging like that. Please lower her immediately!" The client looked up in surprise, then quickly turned the button and the hanging girl sank down to stand flatfoot on the carpet. He grinned sheepishly. "Got carried away. Sorry about that. You OK girl?" "Yes, Sir", the tormented slave moaned, still bent over painfully. "Kay". He picked up a cane and cut a red stripe across her arse. The Director squeezed the guard's shoulder. "Good work". "Thank you, Sir". The young man nodded without looking away from the screens.

The next set showed similar scenes in other rooms. In one of them two teenagers, whom the Director recognised as brother and sister, abducted together the previous year, were driven around the suite's sitting room on their knees. The boy's ballsack was tied to his ankle restraints and strings ran from clamps on his sister's labia lips to her ankles. Both had their wrists clipped to their collars and weighted clamps on their nipples. A youngish couple encouraged their painful crawl by lashing their bare backs with riding crops. Just while he was watching, the clients lowered the whips and apparently gave the teenagers an order. The girl turned on her knees and bent forward to rest her forehead on the floor, and her brother manoeuvred himself behind her, wincing with pain. Another hard lash across his back made him jump and rise on his knees to try forcing his cock into her cunt. The Director nodded appreciatively and turned to the third wall, where the screens showed different rooms in the public part of the hotel and areas of park and beach. The scenes changed frequently while the guard watched intensely to spot any irregularities or infringements of the rules of the resort.

The Director turned to the slave who was on his knees beside a computer desk with three workstations. "You may rise, Mr. Lyons. Have you solved the communication problem?" "Yes, Sir". Fred got to his feet, but kept his hands clasped on his back and eyes fixed to the floor. "What caused it?" "A simple technical error, Sir, a loose cable. But it took me some time to find it and I do wonder how it could happen". "A test, Mr. Lyons, set up by me". "I see, Sir". "You passed it and I am satisfied, but you may expect further, infrequent tests, Mr. Lyons. Perhaps with the programming next time". "Yes, Sir, but I may not be able to solve problems in that area, Sir. My knowledge is limited and the systems have very powerful firewalls". "Which you have tried to pass, Mr. Lyons?" "No, Sir, but they're clear to see when I run the routine checks you've ordered". "Of course and I am indeed happy to hear that, for the sake of Mrs. Lyons". "Yes, Sir". "In fact I know that you have not tampered with my systems, Mr. Lyons. Not that I thought you would be stupid enough to try, but I am a very careful man. My long distance service operators have been surveying your work". "Yes, Sir". "They assure me that you seem trustworthy and quite competent within your limits". "Thank you, Sir. I do my best". "Quite, and your life here is not altogether unpleasant, I believe?" "No, Sir. Pat and I have been very lucky". "Your owner is still satisfied with you?" "So she says, Sir". "And so am I, Mr. Lyons, carry on". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". Fred waited submissively until the Director had left the room and then sat down by the computers.

"Ah, the little hairdresser. Let's have a closer look". Mary had cut the client's hair the previous day and he had fondled her repeatedly, commenting on her well-shaped tits and tight little arse. He'd booked her for an hour and now opened her jacket to squeeze her breasts and lick the nipples. "Very nice, not as big as the other whore's, but nice. Drop that skirt". "Yes, Sir". She unfastened the flimsy garment and spread her legs. "Yes, excellent arse. To the bedroom". "Yes, Sir". She followed him in to see Ann kneeling on the bed, arse up and with her hands and feet trapped in the portable stocks. A spreader bar was ready beside her and Mary did not hesitate to place herself to have her ankles locked to its ends and her wrists tied to the middle of it. 'A double fucking, and...?', she thought and looked at her fellow slave. Tight ropes marked her breasts, but she sent Mary a reassuring smile. "OK, I'll give you a choice. The first to scream gets it in the arse, the other in the cunt". Mary jumped when a cane cut across her white globes and saw Ann mouthing, 'Me?', raising an eyebrow. She shook her head and winced when the next two lashes hit her. Ann drew a deep breath when the cane changed to her arse and Mary mouthed, 'How many?' 'Twelve?', was the soundless answer, and she braced herself for the next three. "Tough girls, huh?" The client stopped hitting them for a moment and slid his hands over the striped globes, then slashed down at Ann. When the cane for the fourth time danced on her buttocks, Mary saw her friend nod and let out a loud scream. "Aargh, please, Sir, please no more!" "About time!" He dropped the cane and rammed his erect tool into her narrow hole. "Yeah, tight aren't you?" He ploughed her savagely and she rocked with his thrusts, grinning to the other bound woman. "Aah! Got to restrain myself". He withdrew and stabbed into the blonde's well-lubricated hole. "Nice and wet, good girls".

"Well, ready for some more fun?" Three men in their late thirties occupied a table for lunch in the restaurant. They were business associates and shared an interest in abusing young women. "Sure", one of the others answered and Janet sighed. She'd been with him from the beginning of her shift, when she brought an early breakfast and found him fucking an exhausted slavegirl, who was bent over the sawhorse, displaying a severely striped arse and back. He calmly worked himself to climax and withdrew his dripping tool. "Clean me, girl". Janet sank to her knees and carefully sucked the soiled meat clean of sperm and pussy juices. "Release her and serve my breakfast in the sitting room". "Yes, Sir". Without a word to the girl he'd been abusing since the previous evening he strode to the bathroom. "Bad?", Janet whispered when she helped her fellow up. "Not really, uses a flogger, good with it, but he's insatiable, fucked me six times, no talking, no rest", she whispered back and wiped herself, then hurried out with a weary smile and a 'Good luck'. Janet sighed and went in to arrange breakfast. When the client came back, she was curtly ordered to get naked and crawl under the table to suck him while he ate and watched business-news on TV. After that she was hardly given time to clear the table and change the sheets, before he chained her spread-eagle on the wall and began decorating her with clothespins. He took a long time, humming to himself, while he carefully placed the pins in circles on her small, firm breasts, around her navel, along the inside of her arms and thighs and finally on her labia lips, finishing with three on each of her nipples and one on her clit, before he stood back to survey his work with obvious satisfaction. "Hang tight". He nodded amiably to her, put on shorts and running shoes and left the girl to her torments. When he returned an hour later, sweaty from his jogging, he quickly wrenched off the pins on her thighs and sex, making her scream with the sudden pain, and without further preliminaries rammed his dick into her. He fucked her brutally, wrenching off the remaining pins, and came when she screamed wildly as the last six, on her nipples, fell to the floor. "Aah, terrific!" He released her hands and stepped out of the way when she fell exhausted to her knees, ankles still chained to the wall, cradling her abused nubbins. "Clear away here and come to wash me". He went to the bathroom, while the sobbing girl released her feet and collected the evil pins from the floor.

When she'd washed and dried his hard body, he allowed her a brief shower and then strapped her to the sawhorse to flog her arse before raping her back passage as brutally as he had her cunt. His soiled dick was presented to her mouth and he released her. "Tired?", he asked casually, watching her struggle upright. "A bit, Sir", the teenager whispered. "OK, on the bed". She lay down and had her hands chained to the bedposts. Her feet were dragged up and tied to the rail by strings from her pinkie toes. The client left and she heard him talking on the phone while she tried to relax and use her yoga techniques to gain some rest in spite of the strained position. She was actually dozing when he came back and knelt in front of her, this time to ease his cock very slowly into her pussy. He fucked her for a long time, moaning with rising lust until he at last spurted and withdrew, releasing her legs and lying down beside her. "Excellent fuck", he mumbled, idly caressing her breasts. "Thank you, Sir", she dared whisper. "Keep your mouth shut, girl, unless asked a question. I'm not interested in conversation". He released her hands and ordered her to suck him, but without making him come. An hour later he told her to get on her knees, fucked her arse and they took a shower together before going down for lunch, Janet naked, hands cuffed behind her back, her nipples clamped and led by a leash clipped to her collar. At the bar they met his two friends, each with a naked, clamped and cuffed slavegirl kneeling beside their chairs. Janet nodded to Dora from her slavehouse and knelt beside her client. Red came to take orders, flashing his girlfriend an encouraging smile.

Ben met Charlie in the kitchen and they fetched lunch for the two girls and themselves. The four teenagers enjoyed a leisurely meal, chatting and joking. The Director watched them from his office balcony, using a pair of binoculars, satisfied to see how polite the two boys acted, carefully offering

his girls food and topping up their glasses, and how relaxed and apparently happy 'Kitten' seemed to be. He made a mental note that Joy was right. 'Caroline was a child and in need of the company of friends. The Alvarez woman at her suite was part of it, but she must have someone to entertain her during the day, preferably boys close to her own age. Those two were not bad'. He enjoyed his own lunch, studying some papers and occasionally taking another look at the youngsters. They talked on for a while after finishing their lunch, until he saw Ben rise and bow to the girls, collect the plates and walk away towards the hotel, while Charlie fetched a couple of sun beds and sat down on the sand

between them. The girls undressed and stretched out in the sun. The director focused on his crotch, but saw no reaction to the naked teens when the boy continued talking and laughing with them. 'Good, Morton, very good'.

The three businessmen led their slavegirls to the dungeon. "Hmm, rather busy", Janet's client remarked. A male slave, who seemed stretched to his limits, occupied the rack. Dora recognised Eddie and with pity watched a female client scraping his bare soles with her long fingernails to make them jerk the strings running from each of his toes to the clamp on his blue and swollen cockhead. He kept his mouth firmly closed, but clenched and unclenched his hands and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. A girl was moaning, trapped by her neck, wrists and ankles in one of the sets of stocks, bent over at a ninety-degree angle. Her client stood behind her, beating her already flaming red arse with a leather paddle. Another set of stocks held a girl on her back, feet high in the air and repeatedly caned by a man in his forties, who seemed intent on hitting her toes and scolded her for moving her blistered feet, making him miss his aim. Two petite slavegirls were chained by wrists and ankles to the grand wheel, slowly turning when their clients expertly flogged their strained bodies. Dora's client looked around. "Let's hang them by their feet in a circle, tie their tit clamps together and whip their arses". The others nodded and ordered the girls to lie down and raise their legs. They were hauled towards the ceiling and the men ran strings from tit to tit, making sure that they were stretched hard, pulling the three dangling bodies close.

Ben went back to the tennis court and was soon engaged for a match by a middle-aged client, who turned out to be a very good player. They went through five hard sets, before the younger finally won the match. "Thanks for the game. What's your name?" "Ben, Sir, Ben Sorenson". "Are you booked?" "No, Sir, not as far as I know". 'Shit, just thirty minutes and I had my eight hours!' "OK, I'd like to invite you for a drink". "Thank you, Sir. What may I serve you". "We'll go to my room. Both of us could use a shower, I think". The client stopped at reception and booked Ben, but only for the remainder of his shift. Upstairs they found Jackie dozing on the bed in a loose hogtie. "Well rested, girl?" The client gestured Ben to untie her and went to the bathroom. "OK?" "Sure, he's not too bad. Played a bit with my tits, caned and fucked me on the sawhorse". The two men showered together and Ben washed the client. "A very good day". The older man smiled benevolently to the kneeling girl. "Beer, Ben?" "If it may please you, Sir". "It does". He strode to the balcony and sank down on a deck chair, while the boy knelt at his feet and the slavegirl brought two glasses. "Suck me". "Yes, Sir". She fell gracefully to her knees and engulfed his tool, while he relived the game with her fellow slave and they drank their beer. "Aah, perfect!" He emptied himself into the hot mouth. "Fine place, damned expensive, but worth the money. No end of willing girls, ready for fun and games". Jackie sucked him clean and sank back on her heels, working her tired tongue. He called for seconds and allowed her a glass of white wine, while he and Ben discussed tennis techniques. After a couple of hours he looked at his watch. "Almost dinner time, but we can squeeze in a quick fuck, I think". He laughed at his own joke and took the slaves to the bedroom. "You like two cocks at the same time, girl?" "If it may please you, Sir". "You'll enjoy it, I'm sure, especially with this stud". He had Ben strip off his shorts and chained him spread-eagle on the bed, then told Jackie to make him hard and mount him. She sucked his long cock and slipped in into her tunnel, and was then tied on top of him. "Nice tight pussy, isn't it Ben?" "Yes, Sir", the boy moaned. "But that arse sure looks delicious too". He fetched a cane and laid a red stripe across it. She jumped and Ben caught his breath when he felt her muscles contract around his cock. The cane fell another ten times before the client knelt behind the tied couple and eased his own tool into the narrow passage. "Aah, great! Can you feel me, Ben?" "Yes, Sir". "Good?" "Yes, Sir". "And for you, girl?" "Ooh, I, aah, I'm full, Sir". "Sure", he chuckled, pumping her slowly, "Great cock you've got, Ben. I can feel it all the way". He tried to prolong his pleasure, but soon had to give in and shot a heavy load into Jackie's bowels. Ben almost went over the edge, but with an effort restrained himself, until he heard her whisper: "Give it to me, I need to come", and spurted with a shout of joy. The client shot another load and fell heavily on the restrained bodies under him. "Thank you, Ben", Jackie whispered and kissed his lips softly.

Kalia returned to their room to find Janet on the bed, her striped arse raised by a couple of pillows under her stomach. "Hard shift?" The Indian girl sat down to caress her bare back. "Very. He fucked me seven times, four of them in my arse. I don't think it'll ever close properly again". "And your poor buttocks. Shall I rub some more lotion on them?" "Yes, please. Gosh, I'm tired. I don't want to see a cock ever again. When we've finished here, I'm going to stick to girls". "Sure, sure". Kalia gently anointed the reddening flesh. "How was it for you?" "A great rope enthusiast. He kept me tied up all day, hanging, hogtied, spread, you name it, I did it, but no fucking, unless you count the dildos, and no beatings at all. I didn't even suck him off. He preferred wanking, on me of course. Are you hungry?" "Sure, but I can't sit". "I'll get something for us". "Thanks, darling. Shit, but it hurts. Bastard! At least the girls gave me a shift with Angel". "You deserve it, dear".

"Hi, Dora, bad is it?" Rosie flopped down on a chair outside their slavehouse, where her naked neighbour was on her stomach on a sun bed. "Only towards the end". She grinned and felt her striped arse. "And you?" "A quickie with a wimp. Worse for you, darling". She looked up at her boyfriend, who came out to offer them a glass of wine. "Not really, thanks to you, and I've been with the princesses all afternoon". He sat down and saluted them. "Where's Red?" "Fetching dinner. He's been serving at the bar all day. Lazy bugger". "I'll help him". Charlie made to rise. "No need. Ben's with him". "OK, but he had a client this afternoon". "Just for a game and a talk, no hard stuff. Unless you consider fucking Jackie hard". Liz joined them and sat down on the edge of Dora's bed to pour lotion on her arse. "Thanks, dear". The beautician massaged the red globes gently and continued up her back and shoulders. "Aah, just what a tired girl needs". The four young people enjoyed the cool of the evening in companionable silence until Ben and Red arrived with their dinner and the three boys went in search of a table.

"Hi, Chris, Millie, want some company?" A curly haired black head poked around the door to their bathroom, grinning hopefully at the two naked teenagers. "If you bring something to eat, Tim". "OK". The head disappeared and the two girls worked some more lotion into their aching breasts, then found their shorts and T-shirts. The boy came back by the door to the hall, carrying two plates of steaks and salad, followed by another, very tall, black boy. "Hi, girls, how's things?" "Fine, until now, that is", Millie quipped. "Aw...". The boys put down the plates and moved table and chairs. "Coke?", the tall boy asked. "Wine for me. That bastard I had today made me suck him off three times. I need something to get rid of the taste", Chris answered. "OK. Millie?" "Coke, please, Zack".

"Aah!" Jackie sank down on the soft cushions of the deck chair. "Rough day?" Pat smiled to her. "Not really, but I got blocked out pretty good towards the end. Ben in my pussy and the client in my arse. What a monster that boy's got. Poor Liz!" "Some of us enjoy being stretched". "Yeah, guess so, but I like the slender ones better". The young beauty looked up at her boyfriend with a smile. He grinned and poured four glasses of red wine, while Fred served the first course.

"That damned bitch!" Eddie moaned as he tried moving his aching body to find a more comfortable position. He was reclining on the bed, propped up by a heap of pillows. His wife fed him a spoonful of soup. "Thanks, darling. But she knew her business, stretched me right to the point before the guard would have intervened. I feel seven inches taller". "For how long did she keep you on the rack?" He swallowed another spoonful. "All afternoon, some of the other clients were complaining about it, and she stretched me in her suite before that, on the bed, the wall and in the hanging shackles, had me astride the sawhorse too, with a dildo in my arse. She's a lesbian, hates men and can't hurt us enough, but clever enough not to break the rules. Bitch!" "So you didn't even fuck her?" "No way, but she sure had her fun with my dick and balls and you should've seen her collection of dildos. By far my worst session, but at least it earned me a spell at Angel's, if I can crawl up there, that is".

"You had a pleasant day, I trust, my dears". The two teenage girls rose respectfully when the Director came out to the terrace. He kissed them in turn and sat down with them. Maria hurried out with his drink and glasses of white wine for the girls, offering the tray on her knees. "Yes, Sir. I beat Joy 6-5, 6-3 and took a set from Ben", Caroline proudly announced. "Good, Kitten, very good. You like playing tennis?" "Yes, Sir, very much". "And is she good!", Joy added, "A real sports girl, good swimmer too". "I am indeed happy to learn that and you remembered to keep a life guard close all the time?" "Yes, Sir. Charlie's very careful. Can I play and swim some more, Sir, and I'd like running too?" "Of course, Kitten, anything to make you happy. You do not have to ask me, just tell Reception to arrange the bookings". "Thank you, Sir. You're always so kind". Caroline sat on his lap to give him a lingering kiss on the mouth. "You have no need to thank me, Kitten. I have already told you so, my dear". He stroked her hair gently and caressed her small breasts, with a grateful smile to the other girl. "Mmm, please, Sir!" "Please what, Kitten?" Her hand stole to his crotch. "Please, Sir!" "Kitten!" "Please", she whispered, licking his ear. 'Christ, sister, aren't you good', Joy thought, watching them rise and disappear inside. "I think we'll have to postpone dinner for an hour, Maria". "Yes, Miss Joy". The slavegirl looked away. Her young mistress knelt to embrace her. "She hates it, Maria, but she's so brave and she keeps him happy", she whispered. "Yes, Miss Joy, they say so, all the slaves. Our little princess, but I is sorry for her".

"Aah! Nothing like a good dinner to revive a tired slaveboy". Charlie patted his stomach. "Except good company", he added hastily. "I should think so!" His girlfriend gave him a stern look. "Of course, love, you know that. If we didn't have our friends, we'd never survive this". The others nodded their assent. "That's one of the few good things we get out of this, close friendships, closer than I ever thought possible. I hope we can keep them once we're free again". "I can't imagine not to", Ben answered gravely. "Me neither", Red added, "We'll be looking for the four of you when you come back, and in the meantime we have each other". He caressed Dora's bare back. They changed the subject and discussed films and music while the moon rose above the bay. "Well, better get some sleep. Another long day tomorrow", Liz sighed. "Yes, but we're heading for an easier week. Most of the clients are leaving the day after tomorrow and only a few new arriving. The booking list shows only sixteen so far and seven of them are owners". "Best news I've heard for a long time, Rosie". Dora got up from her sun bed. "Ouw, ouw! I'll have to sleep on my stomach tonight and I don't think I can manage more than a blowjob, darling". "You don't have to manage anything, love. I'll lick your arse if you like". "Thanks, Red, you're so sweet".

"Feel better now?" Zack lowered Millie's foot. The petite teen was reclining on the bed with her bare feet resting in his lap. They were still red and aching after her session with the client and he'd licked and rubbed them gently. The girls had shed their T-shirts because even the thin cotton hurt their abused nipples. "Yes, thank you". "You're welcome. Can I do anything else for you?" "For example what?" Her foot dug between his thighs, rubbing against his large cock. "Whatever you like", he grinned. "Let me ride you, for example?" "If you want". "I do". "OK". He looked at the couple on the other bed, where Tim had Chris' head in his lap and was caressing her bare breasts. "You mind if we use our room, mate?" "Be my guest". "No, stay here!" Chris sat up. "I want you, Tim, and we've got nothing to hide from each other". "Guess not". The four of them recalled the day they first met.

The girls had been serving two men who shared a suite and, after a morning where the clients had whipped and fucked their slaves repeatedly, they made them serve lunch and then took them for a stroll in the park, leashed by their neck collars and crawling on all fours. The two boys had been working hard since the beginning of their shift, preparing a new bed of flowers, and were covered in dirt and sweat. "Look good, don't they?", one of the men remarked. "Sure, but don't you think they need a break?" Tim and Zack sank to their knees when they approached and sent sidelong, pitying glances at the humiliated girls. "And a bit of fun. Run up to tell them we've booked you, three hours, 15, and come right up, just as you are". "Yes, Sir". The boys ran off and the clients led their human dogs back to the hotel. At their suite they hung Zack from the ceiling, feet inches off the floor. "Lick him clean, girls. You can use the other slave as a stepladder when you need one". Their hands were cuffed behind their backs and Chris knelt to lick the boy's large feet free of the copious amount of dirt clinging to them, while Millie carefully stepped on Tim's broad back to reach his chained hands. It took some time before the clients, who'd been watching the degrading spectacle, seated comfortably on a couple of armchairs, refreshing themselves with cool beer, ordered Tim to spread his friend's legs to give access to his arsecrack and crotch. "Very good, girls. Now the other boy, but perhaps you need to rinse your mouths before beginning all over again". One of the clients opened his trousers and with an evil grin watched Chris engulf his cock to receive a steady stream of piss. His fellow followed his example and the boys changed places. When Tim had been cleaned to their satisfaction, Chris was strung up in his place and the boys ordered to fuck her, Zack in her cunt and Tim in her arse at the same time, while Millie sucked off the clients. After that, the boys were placed on the sawhorse, with their dicks lashed to the upper bar and their clamped nipples tied together, "To rest and recuperate", while the clients amused themselves by hanging first one and then the other of the girls on the trapeze to cane their arses and feet. The joint session finished with the boys taking Millie in the same way as her friend.

"Thanks for pleasant evening". Jackie suppressed a yawn. "Better go back to camp now. My client booked me again for the next shift". "Bad luck?" "Could be worse. He's not too bad. Caned me once, fucked me twice, had me suck him off, tied me up a bit, great tit man", she shrugged, "But I guess I'll skip my goodnight fuck, after that double session with Ben, if you don't mind, Bruce?" "Of course not, darling, and I would've begged free anyway", her boyfriend grinned, "Had to fuck the client four times, that's about my limit". "Plus Liz in the arse". "I didn't shoot, but how about a goodnight licking?" "You're a real darling". The young couple left and Pat and Fred tidied the suite before retiring to bed. "Before I came here, I'd never imagined it possible to maintain a normal relationship with a partner, if one had to do what the slaves do here", Fred mused, while running a last check on the computer the Director had allowed installed in their bedroom. "But now you know". His wife's hand slid down his chest to find his long cock.

Janet had to support Eddie when they the next morning arrived at the penthouse suite to begin their shift and were met by a couple of the older slaves. "Rack?", the other man asked with an appraising look at his tormented body. "That too, and dildos. One of them at least twenty inches. I thought she'd rip out my bowels. Still hurts like hell, even after twelve hours on my stomach". "Oh, that client! Yeah, I've served her, luckily only once". "And you?", the woman asked Janet. "Shift without any breaks, fucked or tortured the whole time". "Poor dear, enjoy your rest". She kissed her and left with her companion. Don's mistress had soon convinced him that she meant it when promising never to abuse a slave again. Not only did she treat him as her boyfriend, not her slave, but she made no demands of the two slaves she was allotted every twelve hours. Except for brief visits to the slave camp, Don was always at her side, slept with her and followed her everywhere she went, but her other slaves could more or less do as they liked as long as they didn't disturb her. A shift at the penthouse was almost like free time. For an exhausted slave it meant a day and a half without abuse. She asked Don to organise her slave service and he proposed to his fellows that the girls at Reception detailed those of them who really needed a prolonged rest after serving a particularly demanding client. It worked well and the young mistress became known as 'Angel' among the slaves, who took care that she was always comfortable, her suite immaculate and filled with fresh flowers and her slightest wish met immediately. She was away most of the day, leaving them to sleep, enjoy her pool or relax in the roof garden, while she and Don played tennis, swam in the sea, sunned themselves on the beach or walked around the island. It was obvious that she'd become attached to her owned slave, who took care never to exploit their special relationship. He was unfailingly polite and observant to her, the perfect gentleman, always careful of her needs when they made love, almost, but not quite her equal. The Director had met them 'accidentally' one day at the beach and remarked that she seemed to be very lenient with her slaves, but was rather brusquely told to mind his own business. The slaves loved her and dreaded the day when Don would leave and she with him.

Part 6. Daily life.

The Director closed the door to his private office and sat down at the desk. In front of him were two neat piles of reservations and bills, and that week's accounts. He looked them through, nodding appreciatively. The slump of the last two weeks had passed, the hotel was almost fully booked, thirty-two of the rooms already occupied. Forty guests all in all, most of them regulars. A busy week, but without any prospective trouble. Regulars were a blessing. Quite a heavy load for the slaves, but considering the time they recently had been able to spare for trimming the grounds, only a few were needed for that just now. He put the papers aside and opened the binder delivered by the supply boat that morning. The new shipment. He turned the pages slowly, stopping occasionally to study a close-up of a pair of firm breasts, slender legs or a strong back. The twenty unconscious, naked girls and boys were quite young. They came from the poorer districts of town and were more or less uneducated. Street kids, who were used to rough living and low paid, menial jobs. Not prime slaves, but acceptable, and many clients liked a kid from the slums once in a while. The college girls and boys, and the older slaves were most in demand, polite and well behaved as they were, but these had more stamina, and even those clients, who did feel a pang of guilt when exploiting people of their own class, had no inhibitions when it came to torturing one of these. Besides, they were very good workers, once broken in, and the cost of collecting them was considerably lower. It was easier to pick up a homeless youngster than to abduct a middle class girl. One shipment a year consisted of such slaves. He closed the binder and read the latest e-mails from his computer screen. Harvesting and transport were running smoothly. The shipment was ready and the new slaves had given rather less trouble than usual with their kind. Especially some of the bigger boys could be quite stubborn and had to be given several blasts before resigning to their fate. The boat would leave the day after tomorrow and, all being well, arrive two days later.

He turned to the other screen beside his desk and pressed a number on the remote control. It lit up to show the hotel reception where Rosie was working with the booking computer, apparently taking orders from a male client, who had a naked slave kneeling at his feet, hands cuffed behind her back and ankles hobbled by a short chain. He frowned when the brown girl shook her head, but she sent him a disarming smile and opened the slave catalogue, turned the pages and pointed, and the Director switched on the sound. "Yes, Sir, I'm quite sure that you'll be satisfied with Charlie. He's very tall, actually taller than the slave you wanted, and in excellent shape". "Yeah, but can he take a tight tie?" "Charlie's a swimmer, Sir, with a strong, but very flexible body. What exactly do you have in mind, Sir?" "Well, I like trying new positions and this time I want to hang a male on the trapeze, with the bar under his armpits, bend his legs up his back as far as they'll go and tie his arms to them, preferably wrists at knees". "Yes, Sir. I don't think I've seen a tie like that before. Very innovative, if I may say so, Sir". "I like experimenting. With the boy tied in an arch like that, I think I can hang my girl upside down in the shackles beside him, get his dick down her cunt and then use him like a dildo. You know, haul him up and down, fucking her. If I do it slowly, it ought to give a great show". "Yes, Sir. It seems an excellent idea, if I may say so, Sir, and I'm sure that Charlie can perform satisfactorily. Please observe that he has a very long penis, almost 11'' when erect, and quite slender. Very convenient for what you have in mind, I should think, Sir". "OK, I'll give him a try". "Thank you, Sir, and it was for three hours? Charlie's booked after lunch". "Sure. I'm grabbing a late breakfast, forgot all about it when this babe turned up. Great cocksucker and she persuaded me to fuck her tits. Delicious, I tell you!" "Thank you, Sir. May I make a note that you recommend this special skill of hers, Sir?" "Sure, and now we're at it, can you find me another girl with big boobs for tomorrow?" "Certainly, Sir". She consulted the screen. "Have you tried Ann, Sir? She's a bit older than your present slave, but highly recommended by other clients for titfucking". She showed him the catalogue again. "I haven't, I like them in their early twenties, but why not?" "Yes, Sir. Tomorrow morning, Sir?" "Yes, she'd better bring my breakfast". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir, and your evening slave, Sir? Or would you rather book her later?" "No, let's do it now". "Yes, Sir. Big breasted, about twenty-two?" "Not too big and a bit younger". "Yes, Sir. In that case I'll suggest Christine, seventeen, smallish, but firm and well-shaped breasts". The client looked at the pictures. "Yeah, seems OK. What I like before turning in is licking a hot body. I'll have dinner by myself, so send her up, let's say around eleven, warm and sweaty. Could you have her tied on my bed, stretched, but not spread-eagle, and so I can turn her around?" "Certainly, Sir. I'll arrange for Chris to have a hard workout at half past ten and if you send a slave to tell us when you're almost ready to retire, she'll be waiting for you when you come up". "Great! Damned good service you get at this place". "Thank you very much, Sir". Rosie sent him a beaming smile. "You're very kind, Sir". The client nodded amiably and left for the restaurant, while Dora struggled to her feet, smiled to the receptionists and shuffled after him.

The Director leaned back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction. 'Very good, Miss Griffin, excellent! Trustworthy, aren't you?' He made a note to have a look at the videotape from the client's suite later and pressed the remote again. The guards did the actual surveillance, but he enjoyed watching the activities if he had the time for it. The first few suites were empty of their occupants, but in the fourth a muscular male slave of about twenty was tied up on the bed, with his wrists lashed to the middle of a stick behind his knees. Twine was tied around each of his balls, separating them, and run to his ankle restraints. The end of a butt-plug protruded from his arsehole and his client, an overweight man in his fifties, was beating him with a cane, alternating between his buttocks and the soles of his feet, to make him squirm and jerk his legs. In the next suite the client was relaxing in the sitting room, watching TV, with his slave sprawled naked on the floor, masturbating with a large dildo. The Director recognised her as one of those who were going home within a few days, a high school teacher who'd been a very good catch, sold off right from the start of her term and now with her fourth owner. He made a note about acquiring more of her kind. Some clients liked a mature and well-educated woman as their permanent slave, a sort of second wife, always polite and compliant, unlike the troublesome bitches they had at home. Generally they treated them well and rented an extra slave when in need of rougher handling of a girl. A very profitable arrangement. He flipped through the next suites, where a girl was sucking her client, trapped in the stocks, while he flogged her back, another was riding the sawhorse with weighted clamps on nipples and pussy-lips, and a third was being fucked chained spread-eagle against the wall. He frowned when he looked into the next bedroom, where a teenage girl was in an unusual hogtie. Her crossed wrists were tied behind her back and the rope looped around her neck prior to lashing her raised feet together. It looked potentially dangerous, but the youngish man, who'd booked her, was tickling her mercilessly, both of them laughing while she squirmed in her bonds. 'Having fun', the Director smiled and turned to the next room.

It was one of the two bedroom suites, where a slaveboy was chained spread-eagle on the bed with the lady client riding him, facing his feet. A slavegirl was on her knees behind her, astride her fellow and rimming the woman's arse, while the male client fucked her cunt and the slaveboy sucked his balls. 'Hmm, boring group sex'. The next room presented an example of a very simple tie. A young slaveboy was supporting himself on fingers and toes, his body forced into a painful back bend by the thin rope which tied his cockhead to one of the rings in the ceiling above the bed. A lady client was amusing herself by dripping candle wax on his exposed body. 'Good boy, remembered to use the rubber sheet'. In another bedroom the scene was reversed. A girl was on her stomach on the bed, her wrists chained to the bedposts and her long black hair braided and tied to her crossed ankles, forcing her body in a painful arch. Her client knelt between her widespread arms and had his cock buried in her face, while working the soles of her feet over with a cane. The next series of rooms showed a variety of slaves tied in different positions, most of them being fucked in one of their holes or sucking a client. 'Very healthy morning exercises', the Director chuckled to himself, 'Sharpens the appetite for lunch'. As he had expected from regular clients, they knew what they were doing. The slaves were in pain, of course, but not excessively so, and some of them apparently joking and laughing with their well known clients, while they were being tied up or, like the Chinese girl he watched for a couple of minutes, instructing their clients in the art.

He paused for a moment at a room where the young slave couple, sister and brother, as so often before were serving together. They were part of the previous shipment of street kids and it was actually an accident when they were harvested together. The girl had been targeted, but her brother turned up unexpectedly when the abductors were bringing her out from the seedy room they rented in a dilapidated boarding house and had to be silenced. When they saw his fine body, they decided to take him as well. He could always be disposed of if their customer didn't want him. The Director had been consulted and mailed photos of the couple, and upon learning that they'd given very little trouble decided to abandon his own rules in this case and for once take in a closely related couple. Married or engaged slaves were one thing, they cared for each other and co-operated to get through their slavery as easily as possible, supporting each other in their hopes for a future, but he had considered enslaving relatives too risky. Their feelings for each other were of a different kind and especially a brother might react very forcefully, if he saw his sister molested, and have to be punished, perhaps repeatedly, even disposed of, and that would disturb the peace of the slave camp. This first couple, however, turned out to be an asset. They'd accepted their fate, served well, both of them had in fact found partners among their fellow slaves, and first of all, they were very popular among the clients, who found it exciting to abuse and humiliate a sister and a brother together and especially forcing them to fuck each other. He'd decided to have another two sets of siblings included in the new shipment.

The present couple was just now hanging from the ceiling in a male client's suite, facing each other, the boy by his ankles and the girl in the trapeze. They had their hands free to swing a short whip, the brother against his sister's clamped tits and she against his tightly tied cock and balls, while the hugely grinning client raised and lowered them alternatively. The Director nodded appreciatively and continued his inspection of suites. Fred's and Pat's owner was on one of her short stays and had him in the customary spread-eagle tie on her bed, riding him leisurely, both of them apparently enjoying it. 'A bit of a nuisance that she should turn op just now'. He had to beg the computer specialist off for part of the day to ensure that no breakdowns occurred at this crucial time and 'Miss Jones' refused until offered free use of two young black slaves. She'd agreed, but demanded that the boys served her for the whole of her week's stay and were issued temporary golden collars. A stiff price, they were very much in demand, but he had to give in. And she didn't even use them, just allowed them hanging around her suite when she wasn't present and otherwise sent them to the slave camp to enjoy themselves. In the penthouse suite two slaves were sleeping in the extra bedroom, while the client lounged beside her pool, talking quietly with Don. 'Silly woman, but her leniency was good for business, saving allowing extra free time for very exhausted slaves'. He looked briefly into his own slavegirls' suite and found them sunning themselves beside the pool. He felt a pang of regret to see Joy's lithe body. 'He would miss her sorely, but his new toy had turned out even better than he'd hoped for, his little kitten, or perhaps, tiger cub'. Smiling to himself he clicked to look into the dungeon.

As expected, only a few clients used it before lunch. Today there were just the guard on duty and three slavegirls, hanging from their wrists with weighted clamps on nipples and labia lips, apparently parked to await their clients' pleasure. A slaveboy was chained to the wheel and a motherly looking woman was whipping his front while he turned slowly. Another boy was locked in the foot stocks while his male client was flogging the soles of his feet. 'Always popular these stocks, perhaps we could modify those in the suites to suit that purpose'. The Director flipped quickly through a number of surveillance cameras throughout the hotel and in the grounds, but found nothing of interest and decided to take a longer lunch break than usual, enjoying the company of his pleasure slaves.

"Terribly busy day!" Rosie flipped through the list of available slaves. "Guess I'll have to throw in myself. 45 wants two extra girls and a boy for a quickie". "What is it? I can go", the other receptionist offered. "Long toes, so you won't do, but thanks". Rosie looked at her dainty feet. "Guess not. OK, I'll hold the fort". The brown girl nodded and picked up the phone. "Hi, Liz, can you spare an hour? Old, foot man. Yeah. He's got Janet and I'll go with you, and one of the boys. Thanks. Ten minutes?" She looked up. "Hey, Ben, you're free, aren't you?" The tanned boy stopped on his way from the service lift. "Got a client on the court in two hours". "Care for a quickie?" "Not really". He checked himself. "OK, Rosie, what's up?" "Janet and me, and Liz". "Not all three of you! I've got to be able to play at least one match", he wailed. "Who said you'd be fucking us?" "OK, OK", he sighed, rolling his eyes. She followed him down to the locker room, where his girlfriend was lubing her vagina. "Hi, love". They exchanged a kiss and he took the tube to smear a generous amount into her back passage, then turned to Rosie. "If anyone three months ago had told me I'd be doing this, I would've knocked him down". "And if you'd done it, I would've knocked you down, mate!" Charlie entered. "Shit, Rosie! Don't boast about my skills another time, please!" She straightened and spread her legs. "How was Dora? Ouw!" Ben's fingers dug up her love tunnel. "Sorry, darling". "Don't know, didn't feel anything but the cramps". "Thanks, Ben". She gave her boyfriend a lingering kiss. "You can recuperate on the beach with the princesses for the rest of your shift. But could you do it?" Ben had dropped his shorts and handed his friend the tube, bending over to spread his arsecheeks. "Sure, weird, but it worked. Couldn't with you, I don't think". Charlie stuck his finger up the other boy's chute. "Why's that?" "Too tight, love". He shook his head and sighed. "Two months ago I wouldn't believe that I could do this as a matter of routine. The world's a strange place, that's for sure".

When the three slaves entered the suite they found Janet with a slim, well preserved man in his early seventies. She was chained to a chair on the balcony and the client had apparently been finger feeding her lunch. Both seemed happy and relaxed. "Ah, excellent! They did find someone to accommodate me". "Yes, Sir, but I had to scrape the bottom of the barrel", Rosie dared joke, "The beautician, the tennis coach and myself. That's all we'd left, I'm afraid, Sir". "Hardly the bottom", the old man chuckled, looking appreciatively at the beautiful girls. "Drop those skirts and kneel to let me see your feet. Not you, boy". Ben placed himself in the display position, while Liz and Rosie removed their flimsy garments and knelt with their backs to the client, pressing their toes into the carpet to present their shapely feet. "Excellent!", he repeated and released Janet. "Now you lie down on the floor on your stomach and raise your legs". The slim brunette got down and Ben was ordered to cuff her hands behind her back. "OK, now turn her feet to make the soles touch and tie her toes together, big toe to big toe and so on". She moaned softly when forced into the strained position and the twine cut into her toes. "Now the other two". The three naked beauties were trussed up side by side on the floor. "Nice sight, don't you agree?" "Yes, Sir". Ben looked uncertainly from the client to the girls' gaping sex. "Fuck their feet until you spurt on their backs". "Yes, Sir. All three of them? I'm not sure I can, Sir". "Of course you can, boy, you're young". "Yes, Sir". He turned to his girlfriend, bent his knees and eased his long cock in between her strained soles to begin masturbating. Liz squirmed and giggled. "Aieeh, it tickles!" "Having fun, girl?" "Yes, Sir". She involuntarily kicked her legs and Ben had to hold them firmly while trying to come as quickly as possible.

"I own a modelling agency". The elegantly dressed, but rather plain, middle aged woman looked curiously at Eddie, who'd been called from work at the pool bar. "I thought I recognised you from the pictures in the catalogue. You're model, aren't you?" "Yes, Ma'am". The tall, handsome man stood at display, carefully keeping his eyes fixed at the floor. "Why are you here then. Are you a masochist?" "No, Ma'am. We needed the money". "We?" 'Shit!' "My wife and I, Ma'am". "Wife? She's here as well?" "Yes, Ma'am" 'Double shit!' The client went to the desk and opened the catalogue. "Her name?" "Ann, Ma'am, Ann Johnson". He heard her turn the pages. "Ah, yes, here she is. Another model?" "Yes, Ma'am". "She most certainly looks like one. Interesting". He cursed himself when he heard her pick up the phone. "Ann Johnson, is she booked? Send her up here, short term". The client mixed herself a drink and sat down in front of the slave, looking him up and down without saying anything. Ten minutes later Ann entered the room to stand beside her husband, displaying herself. The client sipped her drink, looking them over. "Kiss your wife, slave". Eddie turned to embrace the half-naked body beside him, kissing her lips tenderly. "Turn sideways, so I can watch, and pinch her nipples, hard". Reluctantly he raised her short top to grab the sensitive nubbins. "Hard, I said. Make her scream". He increased the pressure and Ann moaned into his mouth. "Harder!" She let out a muffled scream and involuntarily tried jerking out of his vicelike grip. "You can stop there". They moved apart and Ann had to fight herself not to try comforting her aching breasts. "Did you like that, slavegirl?" "No, Ma'am". "But you were into BDSM before you came here?" "We've tried it, Ma'am". "But not regularly? You're not a 'master/slave' couple or the other way around?" "No, Ma'am". "Good. Get naked and go to the bedroom". "Yes, Ma'am".

"Sorry", Jim whispered while cinching the rope tight to make Ling's elbows meet. "OK", she whispered back and rose on her knees to let him loop another length around her upper body, above and below her small tits, crossed between them, and make a knot between her shoulder blades. The big handyman gently put her down on her stomach and lashed her ankles to her upper thighs. "OK?" She waved her feet to show that she could still move. Rope around her knees and tied to her harness forced her legs apart. At last he stepped up on the bed, threaded a sturdy rope through a ring in the ceiling and tied it securely to the knot on her back. He stood back on the floor and hauled to make the small tied body rise, dangling helplessly over the centre of the bed. "Make her wet". The client, who'd been watching the preparations from an armchair, finished his drink and rose, while Jim turned the girl and carefully licked and nibbled her clit to make juices run from her gaping pussy. "Now me". The man lay down below the slavegirl and adjusted his position. Still holding the rope with one hand, Jim bowed to engulf his dick and suck it hard and throbbing. "Enough!" "Yes, Sir". He lowered the hanging girl slowly and guided the stiff member into her, until it was buried to the hilt. "Yeah, that's it, make her fuck me".

"On the sawhorse, slavegirl!" Ann straddled the sharp edge of the bar and her husband was ordered to chain her hands to the wall above her head, then her ankles to the bar behind her arse. "Comfortable?" "No, Ma'am, it hurts". "I'm sure it does and it'll get worse. Whip those big boobs, slave!" "Yes, Ma'am". He fetched a flogger, hoping that the woman wouldn't notice, and stood aside to lash across Ann's prominent breasts. They jumped and a pattern of red lines appeared, but he knew from his own experience that even if it did sting, the pain would soon diminish. He lashed again and the slavegirl cried out and screamed when the strands landed again. "Yess, make them dance!", the client hissed and went closer to watch the delicate flesh turn an ugly red, while her slave cried and begged her to stop the torture. "God! How I've been longing to do this to one of those uppity bitches, who always think they can get away with anything, just because of their damn bodies". She sat down in an armchair and watched with gleaming eyes while another ten lashes rained down on the defenceless girl, who broke down, sobbing in her chains. "At my feet, pretty boy!" With a sigh of relief and an encouraging glance at his suffering wife, Eddie dropped the flogger and threw himself on the floor in front of the woman. "Kiss them!" He bowed to touch his mouth to the high-heeled shoes. "Lick them1" His tongue shot out to wash the gleaming leather. "Suck the heels!" She raised her left foot and pressed the spike to his mouth. "And to have one of those dumb hulks grovelling at my feet". Eddie concentrated on making her enjoy his humiliation and was eventually ordered to remove her shoes to lick her nylon-clad feet and suck on her toes. "Isn't he a pretty sight, slavegirl?" "If it please you, Ma'am", Ann moaned. "It does. Take off my stockings, slaveboy!" "Yes, Ma'am". He tentatively reached under her skirt to find that she was wearing garters and carefully rolled down the nylons to bare her feet and begin worshipping them with his mouth and tongue, while the client looked triumphantly at his wife.

"Delicious thing you've got there". The youngish client let her bare toes play with Fernando's long cock. "Dreaming about getting it up me, are you?" "If it please, Senhora". "Dreaming of raping a white woman?" "No, Senhora". "I don't believe you, all of you Latin men want to get into our pants, it's in your eyes. But you haven't got much of a chance now, have you?" "No, Senhora, but I never want rape". He was on his knees at the foot of her bed, hands cuffed behind his back and feet hobbled. She'd separated his balls, tied them off with twine and run the ends through the crack of his arse to his bound hands. His nipples were clamped and other strings run over his shoulders to his ankle restraints. "Try anyway". She spread her legs invitingly and watched amused while the tormented slave moved closer, wincing with pain, until his erect member was at the entrance to her tunnel. "That's it! Good boy, now have your reward". She reached for his cock and guided it into her sopping wet tunnel, moaning with lust when he slowly penetrated her.

The old man rose to kiss her hand when Kalia entered his suite. He'd arrived just after lunch and as usual booked her in advance. "So good to see you, my dear". He took a step back to take in her exotic beauty. She'd chosen to wear wide harem style pants, fastened around her waist and ankles with golden chains and a matching wide sleeved shirt, cut to show her bare midriff and the top of her breasts, and locked with a gold clasp just below them. Small bells were clipped to the chains on her wrists and ankles, and she had golden rings on fingers and toes. "I have some refreshments for us at the balcony, but may I ask you to dance for me first?" "Yes, Sir, with great pleasure". She moved in front of the large window to begin jerking, twisting and turning her hands and feet, then her arms and legs and finally her brown body, sparsely covered by the transparent cloth. The old man sat down again, watching mesmerised, while the tempo of her dance increased, the bells jingled and her palms and bare soles flashed at him. Unconsciously he began stroking his cock through the fabric of his trousers, then opened them to let it spring free, hardening slowly until it at last stood up, erect and waving. The Indian teen watched him closely and slowed down the tempo of her dance until she at last was almost like a statue, then finally sank to her knees and took him into her mouth, just in time to swirl her tongue around the head before he erupted and she drank down the small jets of come.

Ann sent a last look at her moaning husband, who was bent over the sawhorse with his cockhead chained to his nipple clamps, while the woman alternatively fucked his arse with a double dildo and whipped it. 'Envious bitch!', she thought and closed the door to go down and have a shower before returning to serve at the restaurant, 'That thing hurts like hell'. She had felt it when Eddie had been ordered to string her up, head down in the hanging shackles, and flog her arse, then lick the client and wet her end of the dildo before carefully easing it into her sopping cunt and strap it around her waist. Even in a well lubricated hole it hurt when the woman entered her and ordered Eddie to join her in a double fuck.

Millie was hanging head down, her ankles shackled to the wall and small, clamped nipples pressed into it. Her head was swimming and she felt nauseous after having served the grotesquely fat man since her shift started that morning. He was still in bed when she arrived, being fed pieces of buttered toast by his evening slave, a petite Latino, who sent her a pained look and wrinkled her nose before leaving. The flabby body stank of come, pussy juices and dried sweat and Millie almost puked on the spot when he ordered her to lick him clean, but hesitatingly began her loathsome task. When she'd finished with his back and washed his dirty arsecrack with her tongue, he rolled over and relieved himself into her mouth. "To give you a chance to rinse", he grunted. After that he told her to make him hard and, when she, after almost an hour's hard work, finally succeeded, to turn her back to him and impale herself on the fat cock, taking it up her arse. He wheezed and groaned while she rode him up and down, wincing with pain from her stretched hole, until he finally managed to send a short burst into her and then promptly fell asleep. 'God, what a pig!', she thought and tried to extricate herself without waking him up, but he seemed lost to the world and after watching him for ten minutes she dared go to the bathroom to take a long hot shower and brush her teeth thoroughly. He was still sleeping, snoring loudly, when she came back and washed his dick with a wet cloth, then sat down in a chair, hoping that he'd sleep forever. He almost did, slept on until late afternoon and woke up, angry to have missed lunch. She apologised that she hadn't dared wake him up out of fear of angering him, and he calmed down when told that he could have lunch at any time he wanted. Before he threw on a pair of shorts and a shirt to waddle down to the restaurant, he hung her up, clamped her nipples and labia lips and told her to raise her arms to have her thumbs tied to the pussy clamps. She was hanging there, for hours it seemed, while the cramps in her arms got worse and worse, until he finally returned and once again pressed his cock down her arsehole.

"Thank you, my dear, thank you for another wonderful day". The Indian girl and the old man had nibbled the delicious selection of small snacks and shared a bottle of champagne, while he talked about his life, his deceased wife and his sons, resting in a deck chair on the balcony with her lithe body kneeling beside him. He embraced her and hugged her tight, kissing her lips, but let go when she couldn't suppress a small whimper. "But what is it, dear? Did I hurt you?" "No, Sir, but my back is a bit sore". "Why, have you hurt yourself? Let me see". She was still wearing her flimsy garments and unclasped the shirt to drag it halfway down her arms, turning her lovely back to him. "My God! Who did this to you?" He stared in horror at the tight pattern of red welts. "Another client, Sir". "But, how, when?" "Yesterday, Sir. She whipped me with the cat while I was hanging in the chains and her husband fucked me". "But, how could they?" "We're here to be used, Sir, hurt, to please the clients". "Yes, yes of course. I've done it myself, but such a beautiful and fragile girl as you, how could they? I thought you were here to dance". She dragged up her shirt again and turned to give him a sad smile. "I am, Sir, and most clients are very pleased with that, but they do like hurting me as well, some of them at least". He sank down on a chair, shaking his head. "How could they, how can anyone? Dammit, I won't allow that! I'll tell the Director". "Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir, but it's a slavegirl's duty". "Not my slavegirl! I'll buy you". "Thank you, Sir. You're very kind, but I've only served three months of my contract". "Doesn't matter, I'll pay what he asks. No one will hurt you again, ever!"

Part 7. New arrivals.

"Try not to be nervous, remember what I told you and follow my lead. We're in luck, he really is a nice guy, quite young, 36, not into any of the hard stuff, and he just loves girls like us". Janet looked critically at the other two naked girls, who were preparing themselves in the locker room. They were a bit younger than she, 17 and 18, but had the same shoulder length brown hair and their natural dark complexions didn't look much different from her own tanned body. "What's he into, then? Ouch!", one of them asked when she stuck a finger up her arsechute to lubricate it. "Just the good old rope tricks, and fucking of course, great arse enthusiast, but he's got a nice slender one, relax and it slips in with no trouble".

The new slaves had been at the island for a fortnight, but weren't sent to serve clients until the results of their medical tests showed that they didn't carry any diseases. Some of the slaves of the previous shipment were as usual assigned as their tutors, and with Kalia, Pat and Fred sold, Liz, Mary, Rosie and Jim indispensable as specialists, and Maria serving Caroline, the task was left to the remaining nine. The twenty new teenagers were subdued and bewildered when they arrived, but soon adjusted to their new status, like their tutors had done it three months earlier, but apparently much easier. Their lives had been no bed of roses. They were used to fight for a living, doing almost anything to survive in the urban jungle, sometimes even prostitute themselves if really desperate. The mere fact that they didn't have to worry about the next meal, the to them luxurious rooms, the beautiful surroundings, made it, if not easy, then bearable to accept that they had no choice but to submit as sex slaves for the next two years.

"Right, we rake the sand nice and smooth, but keep close to me, especially if a client shows any interest in you". The two jet black boys, whose shining, well proportioned bodies looked splendid in the white shorts, nodded to Charlie and began working steadily on the deserted beach, only looking up when Rosie called a greeting as she came running by with Caroline. After an hour of hard work, Charlie spotted a good looking, obviously fit man in his early forties coming down, dressed in a pair of swimming trunks. "Just what we need! That's a great guy, regular, straight bondage, let's see if we can catch him" "Gay?" "Course". Charlie paused the raking and straightened his back. "Hello, Sir, here for a holiday?" The man smiled and came over to offer his hand. "A week, and don't I deserve it! Hello, Charlie, good to see you. Time for a swim and a bit of fun?" "Sure, Sir, but only until lunch, I'm booked after that. Life-guard the Director's personal assistant most afternoons". "No full shifts?" "No, Sir, unless Miss Caroline doesn't need me, and she likes swimming. But we have a special offer this week for regular clients like you, Sir". "Special offer?" "Yes, Sir. The new shipment begins working today and the Director wants them trained in active service before appearing on the list. So if you book me, you'll get my two fellows for free". He indicated the two sweaty boys. "Indeed! Very generous of him". "Yes, Sir, but please observe that they're untrained". "I shall and won't be annoyed if they're a bit clumsy. So I'll have the three of you for the morning?" "Me, Sir, as I said, but the others for the remainder of their shift, if you want, Sir". "That sounds like an offer one cannot possibly refuse". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Do you want us just for today?" "This is not a one day offer?" "No, Sir. They're trainees for the rest of the week". "Good Lord! Run up and make the bookings, Charlie. I'll look them over until you come back". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". He beckoned to the two boys. "See if I can have that redheaded guy as night slave". "Yes, Sir. For the rest of your stay too?" "Sure".

"I didn't order extra slaves". The client frowned when Chris arrived with a boy and another girl in tow. "No, Sir, but this is a special bonus for regular clients. I'm training these two and you got them for free when booking me, Sir". "But I'm not into boys!". The two novices were blond and long legged, like their tutor, and stood rigidly in the display position. "No, Sir, I know, and you can just dismiss him, but they're special, brother and sister. Perhaps you'd enjoy a double penetration, Sir. It's very stimulating if you fuck a girl who already has her other hole filled". "Yeah, interesting. OK let's try that".

'She'll be troubled by those when she grows older, but just now they look magnificent'. Ann watched one of her charges, a coal black girl with very large breasts, bend over to refill the cup for a client. He stared mesmerised at the huge, but still firm mounds and said something to make her kneel and present them to him. He weighed them in his hands, testing the firm flesh and pinching the large brown nipples. Ann ambled closer and heard him asking the girl if she was booked. "No, Sir. Excuse me, Sir", she answered for her, "She's not fully trained yet, but if you book me, you can have her as well, and my other trainee". She indicated a Latino girl, whose well-shaped tits looked quite large on her slim frame. "Really, no kidding?" "Special offer this week for our most valued clients, Sir". "Well, sounds tempting and I like large tits. How about their cunts?" "I'm sure you'll find them fresh and narrow, Sir. They're sixteen and eighteen". "But hardly virgins?" "No, Sir, but even if it can be a special experience to deflower a girl, isn't the pleasure greater if she's been opened up, but is still tight?" "Maybe. OK. After breakfast". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". He nodded amiably and Ann breathed a sigh of relief. He was one of the gentler clients, who rarely whipped his slaves, but their tits would be sore that evening.

"All done?" "Yes, Sir". The client withdrew his finger from the arsehole of one of the black boys and waved in front of the other's face. Charlie held his breath, but the boy didn't hesitate to clean it with his mouth. "Fine, let's take that swim. You can join me, all three of you". The two boys looked uncertainly at each other. "Scuse us, Sir, but we can't swim". "Really? OK then, run up to prepare yourselves". "Yes, Sir". They hurried away and Charlie followed him into the waves.

"This is the classic hogtie". The client tied Janet's hands palm to palm on her back. "You can cross the wrists, but that puts too much of a strain on the elbows, when you get to them. OK so far, Janet?" "Yes, Sir". The two novice slavegirls looked on while he tied their tutor's elbows and drew them tight. "Ouch!" "Too hard?" "No, Sir, it's fine". "Good girl!" He turned her around. "Not all girls are as flexible as Janet here, but look how that elbow tie makes her tits stand out". He fondled her strained breasts, pinching the nipples gently. "Delicious! I don't think I can wait". His hand wandered down her stomach and she spread her legs to give him access to the shaven cunt. "Do you mind if I give you a quick fuck before we finish tying you up?" "No, Sir". She sent him a smile and turned to kneel on the edge of the bed, wriggling her arse invitingly. "Sorry, girls, I promise to save some for you". He grinned and rammed his long cock into the narrow hole. "Ouch, aah!", she moaned. "You're just great, Janet. I've been dreaming about you for weeks, wet dreams!" "Tha...Aah! Thank you, Sir". The man threw back his head and erupted into her. "Not at all". He withdrew his dripping tool and turned to the other girls. "Clean us". The two teenagers dutifully dropped to their knees to suck him clean and lick his sperm off the soiled thighs and arsecrack. 'Good girls', Janet thought, relieved.

"Now mount him". The young boy was chained spread-eagle on the bed and his sister had been ordered to suck him hard. "Yes, Sir". She rose and tried to get her legs across, but with her hands cuffed behind her back, lost her balance and fell over. "Oops!" The client caught her, helped her squat over the erect tool, and guided in into her. "Tried this before?" "Yes, Sir, but not tied. Sorry, Sir", the girl answered humbly. "So you've fucked your brother before?" "Oh no, Sir!" "Like it?" "I, aah, I...if it please you, Sir". The boy looked up at her contorted face and closed his eyes with shame. "And now". Her nipples were pinched and a pair of clamps screwed down hard. "Augh! Please, Sir". "Never been clamped before?" "Noo, Sir, ooh!" "Just as well get used to it, now you've become a slavegirl, and the pain dulls in a while, until they come off that is". He repeated the torture on her brother, who squared his jaws and endured it in silence. "Strong boy, huh?" The screws were tightened until he winced and a long string was threaded through the four clamps. "Now lie down upon him". The client grabbed the riding girl's shoulders to support her, tightening the string until their nipples were pressed together and even the slightest movement sent stabs of pain through their chests. "Very nice and now...". He knelt to ease his erect cock into her arsehole. "Uuh, augh, aah, it hurts!", she moaned. "Never been arsefucked before?" "No, Sir", she sobbed. "A virgin, very good!" He pumped and the two teenagers moaned with pain. "Excellent advice, girl. This is really something, I can feel him all the way, and so narrow, aah!" He moved slowly, thoroughly enjoying the ride. "Rim my arse, slavegirl!" "Yes,

Sir". Chris knelt behind him and parted his arsecheeks to stick her tongue into the crack, grimacing with disgust.

"And now the main course". The client turned to the black slavegirl who was displaying herself, hands locked behind her head and long legs spread invitingly. 'Appetiser', he'd called it when he made the Latino girl straddle the sawhorse, cuffed her ankles, allowing her a toehold, and then tied her breasts at the base to make them swell like two peaches. The ends of her breast ropes were tied to a ring in the wall, forcing her into a back bend, supporting herself by her cuffed hands. 'She's uncomfortable, but not in serious pain', Ann thought. She was 'first course', almost, but not quite hanging in the shackles from her own tightly tied tits, wrists lashed to elbows, but able to support herself on the toes of her roped feet. He shackled the black girl's ankles to the foot of the bed, with her back to the rail, clipped her wrists to her collar, and tied a rope around her chest, tightening it until her large breasts were almost cut in two. Further tight ropes over her shoulders and around her back and neck crossed the swollen mounds until her tits were divided into small lumps of hurting flesh. The teenager had tears running down her cheeks, but bit her lower lip, silently enduring the torture. The client stood back. "What a delightful sight, it really makes you look pretty, ready to be eaten". He took a round, feeling up the swollen boobs. "Delicious, and now the dessert". The black girl was pressed back over the rail to make her shaven crotch stand out and her labia lips part to reveal a pink slit, glistening with moisture. "Wet, huh, enjoying this, are you?" "If it please, Sir". "It does, girl, it does". His erect member was rammed into her. "Such a tight little hole needs a lot of lubricant". 'And it 'is' lubricated, but not because she enjoys your dirty games', Ann thought. He pumped slowly, moaning with lust, but suddenly withdrew and went around the older slavegirl to ram his glistening cock up her arsehole. "Guess your cunt's not as tight as your young fellow's, but your arse will do. Ooh!" He erupted and stepped back to sink into an armchair, reaching for a drink. "Delight, pure delight!" His eyes roamed the three tormented beauties.

In the next suite Ann's husband was serving one of his regular clients, a man of about his own age, who came to stay for a couple of days every two weeks. He liked tying up a slave to fuck him after he'd striped his arse, but was quite amiable most of the time. "I've actually never tried it, you know, fucking a girl". "No, Sir?" "How is it, very different from a boy?" He eyed the teenage couple, brother and sister, who were kneeling on the floor with their arses towards him, hands drawn between their legs and wrists chained to ankles. "Not a girl's arse, I don't think, Sir, but a cunt is normally not as narrow and much more wet, though a young girl like her is probably still very tight". "But you can feel the difference?" "Yes, Sir, but again, perhaps not with a young girl". The client stuck a finger up the brown holes. "Not much difference here, but...". He penetrated the girl's pussy. "This is...well, I don't know". He withdrew the finger and presented it to the older slave's mouth to have it cleaned. "Could be interesting... Yes, place them on the edge of the bed, just like they are now, but spread their legs well. I'll put on a blindfold and you can guide me to them and my cock up the boy's arse and the girl's other hole, but don't tell me which. I want to see if I can feel the difference".

"Raise your legs and spread them wide". One of the novice slaveboys was on his back on the bed, wrists chained to the headboard. "And you get it up him, Charlie". "Yes, Sir". He knelt between the strained legs and ambled forward, hands cuffed behind his back. "Better help him, boy". "Yes, Sir". The other black slave guided the erect tool to touch the puckered hole and pressed his tutor's back gently to make him slip in. "All the way and then down to lie chest to chest. Tie them together at their collars and the underdog's feet to his lover's hands". The boys moaned softly when their strong limbs were forced into the strict bondage. "Topman's ankles to thighs". The client surveyed the trussed up pair. "Excellent, and now you". "Yes, Sir". The third boy knelt behind them and eased his cock into Charlie's hole, then had his wrists and elbows lashed together, and his collar to the other boys' hands and feet. "What a sandwich", the client chuckled and walked around the bed, looking at the strange sight from all angles. "You ought to see yourself, Charlie". "Yes, Sir, I'd sure like to", the white slaveboy moaned. "Yeah, and now it's my turn". The client knelt behind the bundle of strained boyflesh and rammed his long cock into the rearmost hole.

"Do you think it can take the strain?" "Yes, Sir, they don't weigh much". Jim looked pityingly at the three girls on the floor. Ling had two petite Filipinos of her own age in charge and the client was delighted to get the chance to try out a special fantasy. They had their wrists lashed to their elbows and ankles to thighs, knees pressed into their bellies, tied firmly with thick rope around their midriffs. He placed the three trussed up bodies side by side on the floor and tied them together at shoulders, elbows, knees and upper thighs and then wanted to suspend the bundle in the hanging shackles, but for safety had called the handyman before he tried raising them. Jim pressed the button and watched the naked bodies rise slowly, while the girls whimpered as the ropes cut deeply into their skin. "That's perfect". The client stopped him when they were hanging about three feet off the floor. "Just perfect!" He waved his cock in the face of the first girl. "Open up!" The erect tool plunged into the small mouth and fucked it brutally before it was withdrawn and rammed into Ling's and then the third girl's. "Fantastic!", he mumbled, going from mouth to mouth, "But let's try the other holes, keep them steady". "Yes, Sir". Jim's large hands grabbed Ling's shoulders and she moaned when the wet cock slid into her lubricated pussy. "Perfect, just perfect!", the client repeated, "As I thought, that position makes their cunts almost as narrow as their arseholes. Yeah, oh, yeah, fantastic!". He changed to the upper passages. Jim had to admire his stamina when he changed between the six holes so conveniently placed for his pleasure, hammering away for more than an hour, until he at last gave in and spurted into the Chinese girl's arse.

"Come on, haul!". The crop slashed down savagely on the brown arse. Fernando and his two novice boys were mowing lawns when a client booked them. He'd warned them that she could be very hard, and was worried when she ordered them on their hands and knees, facing away from each other, and had him tie up their ballsacks with rough rope and connect them. She sat down on a stool, made the older slaveboy kneel between her legs and told him to lick her hairy crotch, while she ordered the boys to crawl forward, lashing their rumps to make them begin their self torment. Fernando listened to their cries while licking her furiously. She squirmed and moaned and encouraged the boys to work harder, but suddenly collapsed in a heavy orgasm. "OK, slaves you can stop there. Tough guys you've recruited this time". "Thank you, Senhora". "Did well, so let's give them a reward. Tie them in a sixty-nine". "Yes, Senhora". He released their swollen sacks and motioned them into position on top of each other, wrists tied to ankles and cocks in each other's mouths. The client strapped on a double dildo and ordered him to lie down across the tied boys, cuffed his hands behind his back and entered his arsehole.

'Gosh! He must imagine himself in Heaven', Millie thought, and winced when a new spasm wracked her body and pain shot through her tormented nipples. She turned her head from side to side to see how her two charges were doing. The black haired girl on her left was crying silently, tears seeping from under her closed eyelids. The blonde on her right was staring at the ceiling, mouth open and gasping for breath. "Don't come", Millie whispered and saw her biting her lower lip. The three naked teenagers were side by side, with their arses on the edge of the bed, outstretched arms tied to the opposite side, legs raised and big toes tied to clamps on their nipples. Vibrating dildos were rammed into their cunts and arses and they were fighting their own bodies to keep their legs from jerking. The elderly man, who'd booked Millie, was sitting in an armchair, watching their sufferings while slowly jerking himself.

"Not so elegant, but just as effective, and it has the advantage of allowing free access to your holes". The client had finished Janet's hogtie by lashing her ankles and knees together and tying her wrists to her ankles. The next girl was beside her on the bed, wrists tied to elbows and ankles to thighs. "And now you". He turned to the third teenage girl. "The simplest of all. Give me your hands". He tied her thumbs together and ordered her on the bed beside her fellows, took the rope to force her arms up on either side of her face and ran it down her body to tie the big toes together, forcing up her legs. "See, just one piece of rope and two small knots and you're helpless". "Yes, Sir", she mumbled. "But not very accessible". He took a step back to admire his handiwork. "Nothing like a naked girl in a good hogtie, what, Janet?" "No, Sir. I'm sure we look delicious", she chuckled. "You do, my dear, you do and now the reward". He used the third girl's tied feet to tease his member to a new erection, spread the second girl's knees and plunged into her arse. "Good heavens, but you're tight, girl! How old are you?" "Seven...seventeen, Sir", she gasped, when her narrow hole was stretched. "Relax!", Janet whispered. "Ohh!" He managed to get the head of his cock past her sphincter. "It feels as if you've never had anything up here before". "No, Sir, augh!" "It does hurt the first time, but you'll soon learn to like it. Isn't that true, Janet?" "Yes, Sir, it does feel very nice". "Yess, sure does. Are you another arsevirgin?". He probed the third girl's hole with a finger. "No, Sir, condoms are so expensive". "Janet, I'm shocked! Such a depraved girl you've brought me!" "Sorry, Sir, please excuse me, Sir". "I shall". He laughed and slapped her rump. "But it'll cost you. I'll use your other hole". "Thank you, Sir".

"Really?" "Yes, Sir, it's the girl's cunt". The client removed his blindfold and looked down at the soft mounds. His cock was buried in the teenager's love tunnel and her puckered hole winked at him. "Hmm". He moved back and forth. "You're right, it's much softer and more wet, but not unpleasant". The erect tool ploughed on and the girl moaned. "Do you like this, girl?" "Ooh, yes, Sir". "What about the other hole, do you like it there?" "I.., aah! I don't know, Sir". "Never been arsefucked?" "Noo, ugh, Sir". "You are now". He withdrew his dripping tool to press against her tight sphincter. His victim whimpered, but didn't try resisting the intruder when it slowly invaded her virgin hole. "Yes, this is just like her brother's, fantastic tight. Were you another arsevirgin, boy?" "Yes, Sir", he mumbled, staring at his sister's crying face. The client moved inside her. "I, aah, I don't know...What do you like best, Eddie?" "I'm married, Sir". "I know, but don't you fuck your wife up the arse?" "Of course, Sir. She likes it there". "And you?" "I, eh, I prefer her cunt, Sir. I like it best when we're doing it missionary style so I can kiss her and lick her breasts". "Perhaps I should try that, now I have the chance". The client withdrew with a sigh and Eddie dropped to his knees to suck his cock clean. "Chain her spread-eagle on the bed". "Yes, Sir". He untied the couple and motioned the boy away while expertly stretching his sister on her back. The client hesitated, but lay down upon her and eased his still erect tool into her tunnel. "Hmm". He grabbed her firm breasts and mauled them, licking her nipples. "Yeah, they do feel nice. Suck my balls, boy". Eddie gestured to the teen, who with a grimace knelt between the two pairs of spread legs and put his mouth to the sack, sucking and licking, while his sister moaned under the attack on her delicate mounds and he could smell her arousal. "Yess, I, eh, I don't think I'll change to girls, but perhaps rent one every now and then, ooh!" He emptied himself into her and rolled off to be sucked clean by her brother.

Ben strained to see how his two charges were doing. He'd played tennis with one of his regular clients, who as usual had booked him after the game. She wasn't too bad to her male slaves, usually just tied them up and rode them, but liked clamping their nipples and balls. If she wanted to be rough, she rented a girl and tortured her while the boy was waiting to be used. He was tutoring two of the new slavegirls, nineteen and apparently very tough. Both of them had run away from abusive stepfathers, who not only used them sexually, but frequently beat them as well, especially when drunk. "We're used to it", they calmly assured him, when he demonstrated the torture devices, "Nothing as fancy as this, but a whip doesn't feel much different from a leather belt when it hits your arse". He was chained to the headboard with his feet up behind his ears, wondering why the client wanted him like that, and couldn't see the girls, only hear them whimpering. He let his head drop back. 'What's she doing to them?' "Come on, move, you lazy sluts!" The sharp crack of a crop on bare flesh was followed by a yelp from one of them. "Move!" The crop hit again and again, and he cringed at the two girls' whimpers and screams. The sounds came closer, now on either side of the bed, and he fought to raise his head again. 'The bitch!' He saw the two lithe black bodies moving slowly and painfully alongside the bed. She'd crossed their arms behind their necks and run strings from their wrists bands to their clamped nipples. Their ankle restraints were clipped together and another tight string ran from the short chain to alligator clips on their clits. Every inch they moved on their knees caused intense pain in the sensitive nubbins and every lash from the crop across their bare backs made them jerk their tortured tits. "Up upon the bed!" The client ran back and forth between the girls to encourage them with the whip. They groaned and cried, but managed to get their upper bodies on the bed and roll up to kneel in front of the tied boy. "Now lick him". The client aimed a vicious lash across a black arse. "You take his sack, and you", she whipped the other girl, "Suck his cock". The girls bent to their task and were licking and sucking frantically while the crop danced on their buttocks. "Enough!" The woman roughly pushed them to the floor, making them scream in agony, and released Ben's legs to mount him. "Aah, you're a perfect partner, Ben, on the court and in bed. You may leave now, girls, if you can free yourselves".

Part 8. Changes.

Fred opened his eyes to the darkness of his mistress' bedroom, listening to her slow breathing. He nudged her gently, but got no response, then slipped out of bed to pad naked to the balcony and peer into the velvet darkness. 'Still nothing!' He was about to turn back when a tiny light flashed, once, then again and then three times in rapid succession. 'Hello, friends!'. He sighed with relief and hurried the other bedroom, where Pat was asleep, switched on the computer and tapped the keyboard, watching the build up of messages on the screen, lit up in smile, tapped again and turned to wake up his wife.

The night watchman on the guard boat was peering forward into the darkness and didn't hear the faint noise when two rubber clad figures emerged from the sea to throw a hook over the railing and creep on deck, discarding their scuba gear on the way. Neither did he stir when one of them came up from behind, expertly silencing him with a blast of gas, before securing the wheel and rejoining his fellow to enter the boat's interior. The remaining three guards were soon equally subdued beside the monitors and in the sleeping cabin and one of their attackers spoke softly into his wrist phone.

Don came awake with a start when a short stab hit his abdomen. He sat up and held his breath until he felt another stab and then, after a pause, a third. 'As Fred had warned him! Now to do as he'd been told' His mistress was asleep beside him and didn't stir when he silently left the bedroom, closing the door. He ran to the roof garden and jumped up to swing over the partition to the next section of the penthouse area. The door to the sitting room was closed, but unlocked, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he went through and stopped for a moment to get his bearings. In the hall he listened at the doors until he heard faint sounds behind one of them and opened it cautiously. The teenage girl was alone, sleeping fitfully in her big bed, and he crept up to put a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear. "Caroline, wake up! It's me, Don, please don't be afraid". She stiffened for a moment, then opened her eyes and stared at him. "Please, don't be scared! You've got to come with me. I can't explain, but it'll be OK". She stared again, wide-eyed, then nodded her understanding and tried to sit up. "Is Maria here?" She shook no and he removed his hand to help her up, then dragged her through the suite and supported her over the partition. They entered the other suite together and he indicated that she should sit down on the floor of the parlour while he picked up the phone and punched a couple of buttons, then replaced it and knelt beside the trembling girl.

The screens in the computer room suddenly went blank and the two guards on night duty sat up when a message flared. 'This is an emergency. Report to the harbour immediately'. The same message was relayed to the ten guards at the hotel and on the grounds. Shrugging his shoulders, one of the guards at the screens rose and the other followed him down to the lobby, where they met those of their fellows who were patrolling the hotel. None of them wondered about the order, the Director ran frequent tests of the security routines. This was just another of those, a low key emergency, where the guard boat had run into some sort of minor trouble, the other boat was out of service and the communication system unreliable for some unknown reason. In such cases, a detail of the guards on watch was ordered to muster at the jetty, ready to deal with whatever was wrong. They stood watching the boat coming in, wondering why all of them seemed to be present. It slowed down to dock and they made ready to receive the mooring ropes when four black figures rose from behind the railing. Two of them fired their silenced submachine guns in short bursts over their heads and into the planking at their feet. The guards froze on the spot and raised their hands. "Good boys! Now turn around, grab your guns, carefully, and throw them into the sea".

Fred's fingers danced on the keyboard while he concentrated on the rows of letters and numbers on the screen. He paused and looked up at his wife. "Now a test, love". He drew a deep breath and tapped a key. "Whew, nothing!" He tapped again, looking anxiously at her. "You didn't feel anything, anything at all?" "No, what...?" "I just sent a signal to your controlling device. You should've felt a stab of pain". "I didn't". "Neither did I". He gave her a wry smile and tapped again, closed his eyes and held his breath. "Thank God, nothing!" He rose to embrace her. "I should've been dead by now, if it worked, but it didn't!" "You activated the poison device?" She looked incredulously at him. "Had to, but it's OK now. I've disabled the whole system". "Oh, Fred!" She hugged him tight. "But why?" "The boys are here, my love. We are free!"

The Director was disturbed in his sleep by a strange sound, a rumbling of heavy engines. He rose, puzzled, and went through the grand sitting room to the roof terrace. The sound was louder, from somewhere at sea, and he peered through the darkness to make out the shape of two ships, the smaller moored at the jetty opposite both of his guard boats and a larger hovering some hundred yards away. A group of men were moving from the jetty, most of them close together and with their hands on their heads, apparently guarded by four others, aiming submachine guns at them. He stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, unable to grasp the quick turn of events, cursed loudly and ran to his study where a computer was humming, ready for use, but the screen was blank and remained so when he frantically tapped the keyboard. With another curse he ran back to his bedroom to get a handgun and then burst into the adjoining suite, looking first into the empty bedroom, then through the other rooms and finally ran to the terrace. 'Nothing!'

The bewildered slaves assembled on the lawn outside the hotel after Pat and Don had gone from room to room, waking them up and telling them to dress. They looked uncertainly at the armed men in uniform, who stood at parade rest around the place. The slaves who'd been serving night shifts joined them, but could only tell that they'd been fetched from work or their clients' suites by some of the same men and politely told to dress and go to the lawn. The clients were ordered to stay in their rooms. After some time all of the island guards were marched up, naked and with their hands cuffed behind their backs, and made to kneel. Shortly after, Fred came out from the hotel, accompanied by a tall man, dressed in black and with his face hidden by a ski mask, and man in parade uniform and peaked cap. Another two uniformed men were dragging a third, naked, man towards them and they gasped when they recognised the Director.

Fred mounted a table and raised his hand to catch their attention. "Friends, you, we are free! The diabolical devices we're carrying in our guts are dead, they cannot harm us". The slaves stared at him, speechless. "It's true, I've tested it, on myself and on Pat. They're harmless and can be removed. We are free. Free!" "But, but how, what...?" Charlie cried with his arm around Rosie. The man in black jumped up beside Fred and put a hand on his shoulder. "Because the criminal, who thought himself so clever, finally made a fatal mistake". He gestured and the Director was dragged up in front of him and roughly forced to his knees, facing his victims, who now saw that he was chained hand and foot and gagged with a large ball. "He made a mistake by kidnapping Pat and Fred". The anonymous man paused, looking out over the vast assembly. "But I'm forgetting my manners. Please excuse this dramatic costume, but it is for your safety that I remain unknown. You've never seen me and you don't know that I'm leader of an agency that does not exist. Neither do you know that this non-existing agency does dire deeds for our country. Necessary deeds that cannot be done by others and of a character that cannot be revealed. Deeds that could not be done, were it not for Fred, by men who could not do them, were it not for Pat". He nodded towards the nurse, who was holding hands with Caroline. "Fred is our nerd and Pat our matron. He collects the information, sets up the schemes on his computers, without which we could not do what we do and have done. She brings us back to life when we've done it, repair our bodies and restore our minds. I ought to say that you don't know them either, but you do, they're your friends and you'll never forget them. To all others, they don't exist, or only as Fred the computer technician and Pat the nurse. That is why this scum of the Earth made his second fatal mistake when he, out of greed, gave Fred access to his systems. From that moment his fate was sealed. It took a little time before Fred cracked them and was able to contact us, and it took some more time for us to plan and set this operation in motion, but, late for you, who had to suffer, here we are, or here we are not. I'm not here and my men never were here, but we did what we had to do to get our friends back, and free all of you. That's all I have to say, or not say. You never heard this, how could you, from a man who does not exist? Just one last thing". He turned to the uniformed man. "This is colonel Hernandez, who commands a special force with whom we've worked closely on several missions. The colonel will ensure your safety here and your safe return home. Good bye and good luck". The anonymous man slapped Fred's shoulder, jumped down to embrace Pat and, before any of the former slaves had time to compose themselves, disappeared towards the beach, from where they a moment later heard a boat roaring away.

Fred unbuckled his ankle and wrist bands, took off his collar and stood looking at them for a moment before throwing them in front of the prisoner. "Thanks for the loan of these". He jumped down and went to his wife, relieved her of her restraints and dumped them with his own, then unclasped the teenager's golden chains. Caroline allowed it, but held out her hand and, clutching them, went to confront her rapist, looking down at him for long minutes, spat into his face and dropped the gold. She turned and walked away, tears running down her face. Maria freed herself from her husband's arms, took off her bands and hurled them at the Director, then ran after the crying girl to lead her towards the slave camp with an arm around her shoulder, whispering encouragement. One by one the others took off the hated symbols of their slavery and the pile grew until it almost hid the man who had enslaved them. When the silent ceremony was over, Fred mounted the table again. "I know that you have many questions to ask and I shall try answering at least some of them, but what is foremost in my mind just now, and in yours as well, I'm sure, is to contact our loved ones back home. There are satellite phones ready for you at the hotel. Use them and let's meet again here at lunch".

Some thousand miles away, the door to a luxurious office in an anonymous building was opened. "I told you that I don't want to be disturbed", the old man behind the desk grunted, without raising his head. "Not me, Don Cavallo". His head snapped up to see a young man, casually dressed in black turtleneck sweater, black pants and black boots, looking at him with a benign smile. "Who are...?" "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Don Cavallo!" The old man stared into the muzzle of a silenced handgun and moved his hand away from the drawer, but quickly regained his composure. "You're not from one of the Families". "Correct. Have you ever heard about Delta Force 66?" He eyed the young man warily. "How would I know about something that doesn't exist?" "Quite. I think we understand each other". "Perhaps, but I do wonder about your operating in this country". "This is entirely a private matter". "So?" The bushy grey eyebrows rose questioningly. "You have a service agreement with a gentleman who runs a holiday resort in the Caribbean?" "Perhaps". "Normally that would be no concern of ours, but you happened to abduct two of us for him". "I see". "A mistake, most certainly, but something that concerns us, very much so". "Understandable". "Your associate is by now out of business". "Of course". "But there's still a question of compensation, or retribution, if you prefer that". "I do not". "Fifty million dollars paid to this account will cover expenses and compensation". The young man put a piece of paper on the desk. "Paid within twenty-four hours". "It's a pleasure to do business with you, Don Cavallo". "I'm an experienced businessman". "No doubt, and that leaves us with just one more item. The persons, who were in charge of and actually handling the abductions, initial processing and transport, will arrive at the resort within three days for a longer stay". "I see. May I ask for what purpose and for how long?" "The staff there is leaving and new needed. Five years, ten perhaps, but they'll survive". The old man rubbed his eyes and his guest saw his hand tremble for the first time during the meeting. "One of them is my brother, another my son". "Don Antonio was unfortunately involved in a car crash ten minutes ago. He's seriously, if not fatally hurt. Young Giorgio will benefit from ten years of, shall we say, honest labour?" "And this is not negotiable?" "Not really. They may of course prefer not to come, but I'm afraid that would make my comrades rather angry. They're very fond of the persons, who were abducted, and they're highly skilled professionals, as you may know". "I could call in some favours". "You could, but I'm afraid that would only anger my friends further, make it difficult to control them, even for my commander, who, I may add, is just as angry as they are". "Very well. They shall be there". "Thank you, Don Cavallo". The young man indicated a slight bow and left.

When Pat and Fred some hours later came back, they found that their fellows had set up long tables and were preparing lunch. They were met by happy greetings, many handshakes and embraces, but told the still bewildered girls and boys that explanations would have to wait until all of them had finished at the phones. At last the former slaves were seated, looking expectantly at the computer specialist. "My commander has already told you that I can't say much about our rescue, so I won't. As he said, it took some time to organise, and that gave me plenty of opportunity to think about the future, to forget the dangers of the present". He sent them a tired smile, the strain had been almost too much, even for him, trained as he was to handle extremely dangerous situations, but this time he'd been alone, not daring to confide in anyone, not even Pat. Only Don was, out of necessity, told what he might expect and what to do, but without further explanations. "First things first. What all us want just now is to go home and forget about this place. Safe transport will be arranged, but with so many of us it'll take some days, perhaps a week. Pat and I'll spend that time with you, getting used to being free. We want to come to terms with this before going back". He saw several of the others nodding and smiling to each other. "Secondly. What about the director? All of us want to see him brought to justice, but that means a public trial, where all the details about this place would be disclosed and at least some of us would have to appear as witnesses. That would be embarrassing, even traumatic for us, and it's him, not us, who should be punished". He saw them nodding again and many of the girls cringing at the thought of being publicly exposed as prostitutes, even if they were forced. "We, my friends and I, won't let that happen. He could be disposed of, that's easy enough, but no real punishment, so we won't just kill him. Colonel Hernandez will take care of him, already has. Our former master is just now on his way to a very special prison camp on the mainland. There, in the jungle and swamps, he'll spend the rest of his life, working hard, naked and in chains, under the whip, and it'll be a long life, the wardens takes great care to keep their prisoners healthy". "Serves him damn right!", Charlie shouted, hugging his girl close. Caroline buried her face in her hands, whispering: "He has gone! Thank you, thank you!"

"He has gone, yes, out of our lives, but leaves us something, beside bad memories. I can't tell you how, but all of his assets, including this island, have been transferred to a newly created 'Camp Lucky Foundation'. The purpose of this is to provide financially for a very select group of people and run a luxurious holiday resort for them and their families. Just now most of us can't imagine returning, but I'm sure we'll change our minds. It is, or will be a paradise, a place to meet old friends, the closest we'll ever have. Twenty million dollars have already been transferred to the foundation and a further fifty will be added very soon, provided by the organisation that so cleverly abducted us". "Holy shit, that's gotta be the Mob! What kind of guys are you, supermen?" "Not quite, Jim, but we can do a lot, if we put our minds to it. And to help a friend, or revenge him, we do make our minds work. This organisation will furthermore provide staff for this place, free of charge. Some people we know, but have never seen". "The guys who kidnapped us?" "The same. They'll be staying here for some time, as servants, slaves you may call them, but not quite like us. They'll be here to serve and keep the place trimmed and spotless as we've done it. Colonel Hernandez will 'persuade' the former guards to join them, so we'll have adequate staff for some years to come, and he has kindly promised to station some of his men here for security".

"What about the other shitheads, the clients?" "I was coming to that, Ben. They'll contribute to the foundation. They may or may not have known that we were forced to serve them, but even if they believed that we were doing it for money, they exploited us to fulfil their dirty fantasies, so they owe us compensation. There's a complete list of all the people who've been here during the years. They'll receive a polite letter, reminding them of that and asking them to contribute with a certain sum of money, the amount will be decided by an assessment of their wealth. If they do nothing, they'll have a reminder, a selection of stills from videos of their 'activities', in which their victims cannot be recognised. That ought to convince them. If not, a third letter will contain a bullet". He smiled grimly. "There'll be a few exceptions. Our 'Miss Jane' is excluded from this scheme". "What about Angel?" "Our angel too, Don, of course! But those two are the only exceptions. I know that some, or perhaps many of you, may pity those few clients, who haven't been too bad to you, but this is my decision, and it is not negotiable. I expect the foundation to gain a substantial fortune very soon. Most of that will be paid out to the about four hundred former captives of the island as a small compensation. Those already freed will be found and told that they have nothing to fear any longer, that they can have the implants removed safely". He paused and looked at the grave faces. "One last thing before we eat. You and our freed fellows will be invited to join the foundation. Those who do, will be included in a catalogue, a bit different from the present, to enable us to keep in touch, to preserve our friendships, to support each other and, for those who want, meet here once in a while. I hope to see many of you during the coming years". He sat down beside Pat, kissing her deeply, while the others rose and cheered him.

"What may I serve for dinner, Miss?" She was sitting on the balcony, staring emptily at the blue sea, and didn't hear his soft footsteps. The clients had been confined to their suites, not molested in any way, but very firmly told to stay where they were. "Don?" "Yes, Miss". He came out to kneel beside her chair. "Don, why do you come here?" "To serve your dinner, Miss". "Thank you, but I'm not hungry". "Yes you are, Miss. Baked salmon and a salad?" At last she turned her face towards him, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Don, I... I'm so sorry". "Why, Miss, have you been hurt?" "I... Oh, go away, please go away. I... Please!" "Have I angered you, Miss. Is that why you're sorry?" She turned her head away again to bury it in her hands, her shoulders shaking helplessly. "Please, Miss, please don't cry!" He rose on his knees and drew her head to his bare chest. "No, but... Please go away now! I can't bear parting with you". "Then why send me away, Miss?" "Send you away, but... This is the end!" "End of what, Miss?" "Us... Our...". She sat up and tried composing herself. "Thank you, Don. You've given me the best months of my life". "I'm happy to hear you say so, Miss". "Don, please... Please don't mock me! You don't have to pretend anything now". "Pretend what, Miss?" "Don, please! I've abused you. I've whipped you. I've forced you to serve as my slave. I've...". "So you have, Miss, and I hated you when you took out your anger on me the day we met, but.... Do you know what my friends call you?" "No?" "Angel! That's your name on this island and that's what you are to me. I love you and I'll always stay your slave". "Don... I...". "And that's it! I'll be like this, on my knees, at your feet, if you need me, but never chase you for your money". "Don...". "So, please let's enjoy these last days here, be happy, and after that, when we've gone back to the normal world, and if you feel lonely, rejected, mocked by your friends, call me, and I'll be there, at your feet. Will you promise me that?" "Don...". "Would baked salmon and a salad please you, Miss?"

"I'll miss you, Pat". "Not Fred?" "Him as well, but I've never felt so much respect for another woman. I'll miss our evenings together". "No need to miss them, professor. We can still see each other frequently, when we're back in the world". "Professor?" 'Miss Jane's' eyebrows rose. "You know who I am?" "Of course", Fred grinned to her, "And as a matter of fact, I have to keep an eye on you. We can't risk one of our country's senior political advisors getting herself into trouble, because she has this peculiar sex drive, can we now?" "And just how would you prevent that, Mr. Lyons?" "By making sure that she has no need to go hunting, Miss". She stared from him to his wife. "You can't mean that!" "Can't mean what, Miss?" "Pat, have you discussed this?" "Yes, we have, dear. I've shared him with you for months now and I can go on sharing him". "But you were forced!" "And now I do it willingly". "Pat, you're an angel!" "Not quite, just your friend".

"I can't believe it's over, that I won't have to suck some fat old man tomorrow, won't have to smile while some pervert ties me up and whips me". Millie was sitting on the bed, hugging her knees. "Dress in ordinary clothes", her friend added dreamily, "Underwear, shoes!" "Sleep in my own room again". "Go back to school, see our friends". Chris looked at the two boys. "You don't seem very happy". "Course we are", Tim mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "No you aren't, what's wrong with you?" "Nothing, we're just as happy as you are, it's justĄ­ We're gonna miss you". Zack sent Millie a strained smile. "Miss us, but why should you?" "You won't, miss us I mean?" "No, why should we?" He looked away. "No, why?" "You can't miss someone you see every day". The two dark faces turned to her. "What do you mean?" "What I say or don't you want to stay with us?" "Stay, with you, but...?" "You've nothing to go back to. You've told us that you have no family, so our parents invite you to come and stay with us, or rather in one of the flats my dad owns". "What!" The petite girl jumped up to sit on his lap. "Zack, without you two, we would've gone mad long ago. Do you really think we'd give you up now we're free? No way, buddy. You're mine, now, here, and forever. You'll never be free, slave!"

Part 9. Aftermath.

'I'd almost forgotten how peaceful it is here', Pat thought, when standing at the balcony rail, staring into the darkness. They'd been busy with different missions for the past two years and not been able to attend the first reunions of Shipment 21. The 'Camp Lucky Foundation' was a great success, with far more 'contributions' from former clients coming in, than Fred had dared hope for. All of the former slaves had received one million dollars each and there was still a substantial fortune left, mainly used to pay for their holiday trips to the island. Reluctantly at first, most of them had returned for at least one visit and a growing number came for the yearly reunions of the 22 shipments.

Now they'd found time to stay for a few days and arrived late at night by special seaplane, as always accompanied by the guards their commander had assigned to them ever since their abduction. Rosie and Charlie, who had been appointed managers of the island, welcomed them and took them to 'Miss Jane's' former suite, then left them to catch some sleep. Pat went back to the bedroom, just as Fred emerged from the bathroom, naked and fresh from a cold shower. She looked hungrily at his long cock and he followed her gaze. "Can I do anything for you, Ma'am?" He dropped to his knees in front of her. "Perhaps, any suggestions, slave?" She shrugged off the terrycloth robe, she'd donned after her own shower and sat down on the bed. He smiled and bowed to kiss her feet. "Would it please you to chain me to the bed and ravage me, Ma'am?" "Chain you, but...". She looked surprised at the rings in the bedposts. "The 'special equipment' is still there". "Yes, Ma'am". "But...". She shook her head. "But what, love? Don't you think it might be used sometimes?" "By our friends, no, absolutely not!" "Why not? A bondage game can be fun, if it's exactly that, fun between consenting partners". "But they must hate it!" "Some of them do, no doubt, but not all, I don't think, and I quite like it, as you very well know". And she did. They'd kept their promise to 'Miss Jane'. Fred visited her whenever his duties allowed and spent hours tied to her bed, while she rode him to their mutual satisfaction. "But we don'tĄ­". "No, love, but this once, to celebrate". He fetched a set of slave bands in the closet. "OK, but only this once". "Yes, Mistress".

In the next suite Millie shivered when the long black cock once again was rammed up her tunnel. "God!", she mumbled, "Again, Zack, harder!" The tall boy smiled tenderly to her and thrust again to make her sway in her chains and bump into her friend. The two girls were dangling back to back from the ceiling, both with a cock buried in their cunts. "Yess, come on Tim, together now!" Chris begged. The exited boys exchanged a look and began hammering in turn to make the naked bodies sway and bump, while the girls' moans changed to small cries and finally to high pitched screams, when their lovers spurted into them. "Ohmygod, OH MY GOD!", Chris panted. "That was heavenly, Tim, thank you, thank you!"

Janet squirmed when the soft lips briefly touched her stiff nipple, and protested through her gag when the brown body once again danced away to sway tantalisingly in front of her. Kalia smiled evilly while she writhed and bucked, thrust her hips out towards her naked girlfriend, who was chained spread-eagle to the wall. "Like what you see, darling?" Janet nodded vigorously and shrieked when her other nipple was licked. The brown girl danced away, only to come back, again and again, her lips caressing the restrained body, slowly reducing it to a writhing mass of sweaty flesh. At last Kalia dropped to her knees in front of Janet to attack her glistening pussy lips with her tongue. Her girlfriend tensed, strained against her chains and exploded in a violent orgasm when the lips found her clit.

"Aaugh!" Ann screamed when the paddle once again hit her glowing arse. Her husband took a step back to look at the naked body, chained over the sawhorse. "Enough?" She wriggled, feeling the big plug moving inside her arsehole. "I don't know, perhaps a couple with the crop?" "You don't like that". "Not much, but tonight...". "OK, Ma'am". He replaced the paddle and grinned to himself when he grabbed the cat and slashed at her. "Aieeh! The crop, I said". "You don't like that". The nine tails spread across her burning hide again. "Noo, but I hate that thing!" "How about this, then?" The whip fell to the floor and his cock was rammed up her love chute. "Ooh, yess, again!"

"Don!". His tongue stopped its tantalising caresses. "Yes, Angel?" "I love you!" "Mmm". He attacked her nipple again. "I do!" "Mmm". A wet trail ran down her stomach and she parted her legs to ease his access to her clit. "I've done something wicked". "Mmm?" The tongue stabbed into her hole. "I've gone off the pill". "What?". His head snapped up and he stared at her grave face. "Three months ago". "But, Angel!" "I'm pregnant". "But...?" "You won't chase me because of my damned money, so I had to chase you, my love. Can you forgive me?" He sank back on his heels, looking at the lovely naked body. "Never, Angel! How can I ever forgive your making me endlessly happy?" He let his hand slide over her flat belly. "You're carrying my child within you. Oh, Angel!" Her thighs opened wide. "Please, Don! Please enter me". "But is that safe?" "Of course it is, silly. Later on I'll have to ride you, if you can stand looking at a grotesquely swollen girl". "I could close my eyes, Miss". He grinned hugely and eased his erect tool into her. "Angel?" "Mmm". She'd closed her eyes and given herself up to the sweet sensations. "Angel, pay attention!" "I am. Oh, God!" He had withdrawn and then rammed all the way up again. "Angel, will you marry me?"

"Good morning, Miss Jackie". The dark young man dropped to his knees when she entered the balcony, naked and fresh from her shower. "Morning, Giorgio". She sat down at the well-laid table and he rose to pour her a cup of tea, looking hungrily at her lean, tanned body. "Enjoying yourself, Giorgio?" He hadn't heard Bruce come up behind him, naked like his girlfriend. "Yes, Sir. How can you not, when looking at Miss Jackie?" "Thank you, Giorgio. Always the gentleman". The blonde beauty smiled sweetly to him, while he served coffee for the young man. "Can I bring you anything else, Miss Jackie and Sir?" "No, thanks. You may leave now". He bowed and went silently to change the rumpled sheets on their bed, envisioning her spread on it and himself buried in her love tunnel, or bent over the rail with his cock up her arse, cursing his fate, as he'd done it thousands of times during his years as an island slave.

"Good morning". Caroline jumped up from a table and flew into Pat's arms, when she and Fred entered the restaurant. "God, how I've missed you!", she whispered, kissing her on both cheeks. "Come and sit with us, please". "Yes, dear". The black couple shook hands with Fernando and Maria and a young boy, they didn't remember seeing before. Caroline threw an arm around his shoulder. "This is Carlo. He came with the last shipment". "Sorry we didn't recognise you, son". "No need, Sir. You had other things to worry about". The slender, dark boy smiled shyly. "Maria and Fernando took him in, after we were freed. He doesn't have any family", Caroline announced, "Isn't he cute? We've seen a lot of each other since they moved to my neighbourhood and opened a restaurant". She laughed happily and kissed his ear. "He's my boyfriend, but so shy, poor boy. It took me months just to make him kiss me and more than a year to lure him into my bed". "Caroline!" The boy looked shocked. "But once there, was he good!" Pat exchanged a knowing look with Maria. "I'm happy to hear that, my dear". "And he's so sweet, treats me like a princess!" "Just what you deserve, my dear". Pat hugged her again and sat down.

The black couple spent the morning with Rosie and Charlie, who took obvious pride in showing them around the well-kept grounds and buildings. The hotel was almost unchanged, only the dungeon had been dismantled and turned into a gym. The rooms in two of the former slave blocks had been converted to suites, the third housed the fifty soldiers who were on duty at the island, a task colonel Hernandez' men regarded as a treat. The former guards and the slave catchers, now slaves, had bunks in what used to be the guards' barracks. They dressed in a pair of shorts only and were on their toes from they rose early in the morning, until they stumbled to bed late at night. Rosie and Charlie didn't tolerate any slackness and the soldiers were always watching them closely, ready to encourage them with the whips they carried. It took some effort and punishments before they settled down to their fate, especially the slave catchers, but by now they worked smoothly and obediently, perfect servants for their former slaves.

The tour ended at the penthouse suite, where the young couple had their home. "Excellent, brilliant in fact!" Fred raised his glass to them. "Thank you, Sir". Charlie grinned to him. "And you're still happy here?" "More than ever, Pat. It's the most beautiful place in the world. A dream come through!" "After a nightmare". Rosie nodded gravely. "Yes, of course it was, but not all of it and sometimes I think the outcome is worth the suffering". "It made us stronger, gave us friends, we'd never known without it", her boyfriend added, "Friends as close as few are. Most of us, if not all, at least all we know from their visits here, feel the same". "How many have come?" "Almost all of the former slaves. I think it's less than twenty, who haven't been here yet, and that's not because they wouldn't like to. Most have come more than once". "And enjoyed it?" "Enormously".

"There's one thing, though, that surprised me. You've removed the dungeon, but not the special equipment in the suites". Rosie nodded. "We talked it over with some of our friends, but decided not to. Some don't like it, but they stay at the new suites in the camp, others use it". "Do you?" "We don't have it up here, but Charlie ties me up once in a while". "And you like that?" "Sometimes. I like to feel him in control, to give myself up to him". "Not the other way around?" "That too", the boy nodded. "But no pain?" "No, we don't like that, but others do. Ann very often has a red arse, when she comes down to the beach. Jim has a striped back". "Jim!" "Sure. Mary hangs him up and uses the cat on him, then her feet. Dora and Red cane each other. Liz gets her breasts tied up. Oh, yes, you'll see quite a lot of rope burns and striped hide around here". Pat shook her head. "I can hardly believe it, but from a professional point of view it's healthy, confirming that we've overcome our ordeals". "All's well that ends well", Fred concluded.