Part one

I was born under a lucky star, had a fairy for a godmother, whatever. Anyway, for some reason I'm a winner. And now you expect me boasting about my successful career, how I surged to the top in no time, the power I hold, the fabulous amounts of money I earn. Sorry to disappoint you. I never entered the rat race, actually I'm unemployed, permanently, never in my life had a proper job. Aha, you think, spoiled son of a wealthy family. Nope. My old man was a truck driver, who died of a heart attack when I was eighteen. My mum ran away with another guy a couple of years before that.

No, I literally mean what I say. I'm a winner. I gamble and I win. Or I did. Aha, you think again, a shark. No way. I don't play poker or pool or whatever. I bought a lottery ticket, in all innocence, like a good citizen. The difference between you and me is that my number always came up, every single time. That doesn't mean that I bought all the tickets I could lay my hands on. Four or five times a year I got a hunch and did what it told me. Only then and it never failed. I won. Always money, eventually summing up towards the three numbers range, in millions that is. Quite enough to ensure me a very comfortable life. Unjust and unfair? Don't blame me, I'm just an average guy. Name's John.

Well, perhaps not that average. I do have a vice. I'm a sadist. Not a bloodthirsty, murderous beast or a mad sex maniac, but I do get a kick out of tormenting other people. So do you, I guess, since you're reading this story, or perhaps you're just dreaming about it. That's what I did, mostly, dreamt, looked at pictures, read stories. Masochists are hard to find, even for a lucky guy like me. You can't win them in a lottery. Well, you can, and I have, but I wouldn't play with those guys if I were you, not unless you're a hardcore masochist, and even then I'd prefer to find my own master or mistress.

Those guys, that's the Treasure Island Company Inc. Perhaps you've heard about them. No? They begun by producing BDSM pictures and films, expanded to selling dungeon equipment and from there went into escort business. That's risky, bordering on pimping, and willing girls, and boys, are hard to find, especially if you want them young and attractive. Then some genius found a way to make it perfectly legal and secure a limitless supply of staff. The initial investment must have been fairly high, but once established, the money came rolling in.

Actually it's so simple that one does wonder that no one thought about it before. What they did was renting a tropical island. Nothing new, but what's special is that it belongs one of those tiny island nations in the Pacific, who may be independent but doesn't have a dime and few chances of earning any. It wasn't hard to persuade them to find a suitable atoll, relocate the few families living there, and pass some new legislation. The company transformed the atoll to a very special holiday paradise, built a hotel with casino in the nation's capital city, and was ready for business. Well, almost. There was the small problem of getting the necessary staff of willing victims.

Aha, you think, here come the kidnappings. No they don't. I told you that this business is perfectly legal and even a remote third world country couldn't get away with turning a blind eye if people from other nations were abducted and enslaved. No, the slaves of Treasure Island come openly and out of their own absolutely free will to be used and abused by anyone who can afford a holiday there. It isn't cheap, but not that expensive either, because the costs of running the place are kept fairly low. And how do they do that? Well, that's what's so ingenious about the whole scheme. The staff, slaves, don't get paid. You won't believe that, but they don't. And not because they're a bunch of hardcore masochists. That would cheat the sadistic guests of half the fun. No, they hate what they have to do, but they do it, willingly. Confused? Well, it's so simple. They gamble.

Once a year the company runs its own very special version of Russian roulette. The stakes are high: A year of your life against one chance of winning 10 million dollars. It's open to everyone, world wide, but you have to apply, and must be of legal age, between eighteen and twentyone, depending on the laws of your country, but not older than twentyfive, and fairly goodlooking. If granted a stake you have to sign a statement to confirm that you know what you're doing and are ready to face the consequences. Only one hundred a year get in, half female and half male. It sounds crazy, with those odds, 100:1, but there's absolutely no lack of applicants. When the time comes, you put your affairs in order, preparing to stay away for a year, and are then flown to the hotel on the main island for a week's vacation in the sun. As part of the deal with the local government, the company runs a quite popular holiday business for ordinary tourists. The main event takes place on the last night. Firstly the participants pick one of 100 numbers out of a hat and then they run the roulette, once. The winner takes all, with a three months holiday on the island thrown in. The remaining 99 guys and girls lose their freedom and have to serve as sex slaves for a year.

Back to my story. I got the familiar hunch, applied and was accepted. Well, I'm twentythree, six feet four, pretty fit, blonde, and rather handsome, or so the girls usually tell me. The first week was great, for me that is. The others pretended to enjoy it too, but all they could think about was the final day and most of them were nervous wrecks when it finally dawned. I had my fun looking them over and plan what to do when they were in my clutches. They really were a fine bunch of delicious babes and handsome hulks from about thirty different countries. The idea that I might not win never entered my mind, I'm that sure of my luck, and of course it didn't fail me. I had a hard time keeping a straight face when looking at the gaping mouths and teary eyes around me.

Yep, there I was, ten million good old American dollars richer and a prospective slaveowner. We guests stayed for another week in our luxury suites. The losers were whisked away as soon as the affair was over and kept someplace else, rather less comfortable I guess, while they went through a week of introduction and initial training for their new lives. The main issue hammered into them was that they had to submit, humbly and obediently, to whatever a guest might demand of them or want to do to them. To be a bit feisty was OK, but any real resistance or worse, attempts to defend yourself, strike back, would be considered a breach of contract and reported to the local authorities. Out there a crime that carries a mandatory sentence of ten years of hard labour. Ingenious, isn't it? You sign an agreement, you gamble, you lose, and you have no choice but to face the consequences. The whole scheme is legal and above board. You can't expect any help from your own country or even sue the company if released as a physical and mental wreck after a year of heavy abuse.

Some other guests at the hotel, who'd come down to watch the show, were on their way to the same place as I, but had to pay for their fun. Most of them were men, sixteen singles, four were there with their wives and another two with a male partner. In addition to the four wives, there were seven single women and a lesbian couple, 37 in all. The youngest was a lad of sixteen, but most of them were in their thirties, two of the married couples a bit older. They didn't appear to be monsters, though one of the gay couples looked as if they belonged to the leather crowd. Apart from myself, the young lad, who was there with his dad, one of the couples and two of the single men, all of them had been on the island before, some of them several times. A holiday package was four weeks plus transport and stopovers on the main island, and could be extended for further periods of four weeks. This particular period was considered special and very much in demand among the regular customers, who booked it years in advance and willingly paid double for the opportunity of breaking in fresh slaves.

Most of them knew each other from previous holidays and gladly shared their experiences with us novices. I was teased a bit with remarks about what a shame it was that they couldn't have some fun with me, but otherwise welcomed like the other new members of the clan. The regulars showed photos and videos from the island and of their 'fun', and explained the layout of the place. It was the classic dream of a tropical island. A mountain rising out of the deep blue sea, steep on one side and on the other sloping gently down towards a glittering beach and a lagoon, enclosed by a coral reef. Landing was only possible at a jetty protected by a cove at the western end of the island. On a piece of flat ground behind the cove were a couple of long, low buildings, whitewashed and thatched. They housed offices and restaurant, kitchen, utility rooms, and quarters for the permanent staff: The island master, his secretary, a physician and a nurse, radioman, two cooks and twenty security officers, former commandos. The latter did keep an eye on the slaves, but were mainly there to prevent unauthorised landings. Escape was impossible, there were no boats and the nearest island was more than fifty miles away across a shark filled sea. A ship called once a week with supplies and a passenger liner once a month to bring in and fetch guests away. In an emergency a seaplane could be there within an hour. There'd never been a rebellion among the slaves. It was fruitless since they couldn't get away and would only land them with a prison sentence, but it did occasionally happen that one of the male slaves couldn't stand the constant abuse and humiliation and had to be put firmly in his place.

Guests were housed in thirty cottages, spread throughout the lush greenery bordering the lagoon and up the mountainside. They were allotted a personal slave to wash and clean, serve their meals, if they preferred not to eat at the restaurant, and generally ensure their comfort. First and foremost by fulfilling any sexual needs they might have, however twisted. The remainder of the slave contingent maintained the main house and the grounds. When they had the time for it, that is, guests could anytime request an extra slave or more. They worked or served guests from early morning to late at night, sometimes all night. If not, they were locked up in a mountain cave. Another cave had been transformed into a comfortable shelter for the use of guests and staff in case of hurricanes and a third hid a power plant.

I spent a good part of the week sunning myself beside the pool, improving the tan I'd already caught, preparing for my three months under the tropical sun, but used some time roaming the cute little capital and parts of the main island. A beautiful place with a no less beautiful and extremely open and friendly population. I'm sure you agree that Polynesian girls, and boys too for that matter, are among the most delicious in the world. Downright mouth-watering, like the splendid specimens I'd spotted among the losers. A couple of nights we six novices had our after dinner coffee in my suite and watched some of the regulars' videos. I dare say that it was hot and very inspiring stuff, which gave us quite a few ideas about how to use a slave. The lad's father came along with him. We were of course a bit curious, to say the least, that he brought such a young boy to a place like this, but as it turned out, the lad was no stranger to sex slavery. His parents had a 24/7 BDSM relationship. Ordinary professionals when at work, he as an accountant, she as a gynaecologist, but at home she was kept naked and chained, serving the family as a houseslave, eating her meals off dog bowls on the kitchen floor and punished for any infraction. From he was just a toddler, he'd seen his mum hanging from the ceiling by wrists or ankles, locked into a set of stocks, or tied up in painful positions to be used as a footstool. Later on he often witnessed the canings and whippings she suffered almost daily. Four years ago, when she turned fifteen, his elder sister joined her. Out of her own free will, their parents never pressed her into this kind of life, but she'd seen how happy they were together, unlike those of some of her friends, who quarrelled and fought all the time and ended up divorced. So the lad was used to having two naked and chained slavegirls around, who served him hand and foot, but only that. He was not allowed to punish them, just watch, and of course not to use them for sex. It sounds weird, but he and his father convinced us that theirs was a very happy and close family. The sister had just got married to a boy she'd known most of her life, son of friends of her parents who had the same sort of relationship, and entered a happy life of slavery. "It's about time he gains some personal experience about how to handle a slave", the father explained as if it were the most natural thing on Earth, "He'll get a crash course at the island. I've been there quite a few times, doing things I like, but neither to the woman I love, nor to our daughter".

The two single guys were there to learn too. One of them had been through the usual succession of girlfriends, dropping them or being dropped because they didn't share his passion for bondage until he finally found a girl who did. "The problem now is that I just want to tie her up for a fucking, but she likes it a bit more rough, clamps and whips and canes, you know, and I don't know how to use those properly. So we thought that both of us would benefit if I had some serious training". The other guy wasn't really into BDSM, but uncertain about his sexual preferences. "I date girls, but think some guys just as hot, so I grabbed the opportunity to try out both when I heard about this place. And I do have a fetish, for feet". He grinned sheepishly. "Which you share with thousands of people, me for one", the male part of the married couple answered, "I know nothing better than fucking a pair of hot and blistered feet". We looked at his wife's dainty toes in high heel sandals and she grinned. "Not mine. Our problem is that we're both dominant. We met at a swingers' club and fell in love". "Head over heels". Her husband kissed her hand. "But it's not easy to find two submissives at the same time, so we're really looking forward to this holiday".

I guess the new slaves had a worse week, but as my anticipation grew it seemed endless. At long last dawned the day when we boarded a small luxury liner to begin the adventure. We'd only just cleared the harbour when asked to come on deck. With all the new slaves on board, we'd get our own right away instead of at the island, and as an extra treat could pick and choose. They were lined up on either side of the swimmingpool and it was a sight to take away your breath, I tell you. Fifty girls to one side, fortynine boys on the other. They were of course completely naked and their tanned bodies seemed to glow in the sunshine. I think all of us, even those who'd been to a similar event before, just stood there, gaping, for long minutes, before shaking out of our stupor and start picking.

The slaves had been prepared well. Black leather collars encircled their necks and similar bands their wrists and ankles. I learned later that they were reinforced with steel and locked on. With the attached D-rings and simple snaphooks you could restrain a slave in any conceivable position, if you didn't prefer using good old fashioned ropes. Just now their hands were chained above their heads, their feet spread and shackled to the deck. Pubes and armpits were shaven clean and the boys given a buzz cut. Nipples were pierced with stainless steel rings and the girls further adorned with four rings in their cunt lips. A number was tattooed on their left buttocks. I'd learned that a slave was usually known by her number, no need to bother remembering their names, except perhaps that of a personal slave. They stood quietly in their strained positions, had no other choice, but some of them, especially the youngest girls looked very frightened, with tears in their eyes and quivering mouths. Others seemed resigned, staring passively into space. Some of the boys looked defiantly at their future masters and mistresses, while a few girls were openly flirting.

Guests were milling around this imposing display of young flesh. Hands slid up and down naked bodies, felt up muscles, fondled breasts, pinched nipples, hefted ballsacks and stroked cocks. Fingers probed mouths, spread cuntlips and arsecheeks and went up tempting holes, feeling around. No one spoke to the slaves or took any notice of their feelings when handling them and loudly discussing their charms or lack of them. Only curt orders to stand still or open their legs wider, followed by a slap to their exposed buttocks, were directed at them. I made a round, appraising the offers, but didn't inspect any of them closely until I came to the Polynesian girl I already had my eyes on, no. 34. She looked calmly at me and I thought to detect the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. Her breasts were fairly large, but firm, hardly bounced when I slapped them. She flinched, but didn't utter a sound. "Hmm", I mumbled and moved to her cunt, parting the lips and crouching to see a fine rosy hole. She responded by rising on tiptoe, trying to spread her thighs further. Her clit was the largest I've ever seen and stood out, stiff and erect like a miniature cock. A drop of moisture glistened at her opening. The humiliation seemed to turn her on. 'A natural submissive?' I asked myself and went round to open her arsecrack and ram two fingers op the brown hole. She jumped in her chains, but still didn't cry out. The tunnel was narrow, but her sphincter gave way easily. Her finely rounded brown arse was marked by a faint pattern of faded stripes and a closer look revealed some across her straight back as well. She'd been whipped, but not recently, not as part of her training. I went back in front of her again and presented my soiled fingers to her mouth. They were licked and sucked clean without any hesitation, but her eyes were fixed on something behind my back. I turned quickly and saw a tall and muscular young man, whose hide was a shade darker than hers, staring at us. 'Boyfriend? Brother?' I guessed, but dismissed the idea. The company would hardly invite potential disaster if a boy lost his head when watching his girl abused. On the other hand, if they did know each other, it opened some interesting possibilities.

I strolled over to stop in front of the brown boy. 'Magnificent!' I thought with a pang of envy. I consider myself something of a stud, as I've already said, but this guy beat me by several lengths. Perhaps as much as six inches taller than me, with a handsome face, perhaps his nose was a bit too broad, upper arms almost as thick as my thighs, a bulging chest, flat stomach and legs like telegraph poles. Between his sturdy thighs dangled a cock, which even flaccid had to be six or seven inches, and behind it a bulging low hanging ballsack. No wonder that one of the gay couples was busy checking out this outstanding specimen. One of the guys had a hand buried between the two firm mounds of his arse, the other was slowly stroking the long cock. The slave stood passively, looking into the middle distance, but with a spark of anger in his brown eyes. "Tight as a glove". The guy behind him straightened. "I don't think he's ever had anything up there". Two soiled finger touched the slave's tightly sealed lips. "Open up, boy!" His eyes flashed angrily, but he accepted the probing fingers. "A real hot mouth". "Yeah, but...". The other guest looked at the now stiff cock. "I'm not sure that I'd like that monster up my bum". It had grown to about twelve inches and so thick that he could hardly get his hand around it. "And why should you? Is mine not good enough?" "Of course". "And just imagine him over a sawhorse, arse whipped raw, he can take a lot, I'm sure, and then sliding it in". "Yeah".

'Not what you bargained for when entering this game, was it, boy?' I thought, taking a closer look at his back. It sported the same faint lines as the brown girl's. 'But if not gay, who whipped you, then?' He was looking at her again and I saw her give a slight, encouraging nod. 'Lovers? Submissive, both of them? Interesting!' I mused and wandered off. The other guests were still busy, but by now concentrating on a selection of the displayed goods. There'd be no lack of available slaves to play with, but most guests found a favourite and wanted her or him as houseslave, which meant that the most attractive were very much in demand. That problem was solved by letting the guests draw lots about who got to choose first, second and so forth. As a special prize, lot no. 1 carried the right to take not one, but three private slaves. A blonde Swedish teenage beauty with large tits and incredibly long legs was apparently the most popular, judging by the crowd around her. I ambled closer and found the young lad among them. "Isn't she just gorgeous?" His eyes were shining. "And she's the spitting image of my sister. But I won't get her, I'm never that lucky".

He was right. I drew no. 1, of course. His father had no. 11 and he no. 29. "Shit", he mumbled, bitterly, "She'll be gone long before your turn, Dad". "But not before mine", I whispered in his ear. "Hey man, you'll let me borrow her?" "Well, I'm not sure it would be good for you, fucking your sister". "Aw!" He looked embarrassed. "I've never...". "Not even dreamt about it, beaten off with her on your mind?" "Of course he has", his father broke in, "Any boy would, if he saw her bent naked over a sawhorse, a plug in her thoroughly striped arse". "He's seen that?" Their kind of life still shocked me a bit. "Often, or hanging from the ceiling with widespread legs and a flogged pussy". I shuddered inwardly. "But then she likes that. This poor girl might not". "Her own choice, wasn't it, to end up here, and if Sonny doesn't do it, someone else will". Of course he was right. "OK then". "I can borrow her?" The lad looked pleadingly at me. "You can have her, I'll swap with you". He lit up in a beaming smile. "Gee, man! Thanks a million".

I got some envious looks and a few scowls when once again demonstrating my luck, but most of my fellow guests congratulated me. No one seemed disappointed when I chose no. 34 and the gay couple just shook their heads when her countryman joined her, but a collective sigh went through the assembly when I pointed at the blonde. The three were released, had their hands cuffed behind their backs, their ankles hobbled with a two foot chain, and a leash clipped to their collars. A staff member led them over and handed me the leashes. I indicated that the brown couple should kneel behind me and gave the blonde's leash to her new master. He looked at her in awe and solemnly shook my hand. "You can borrow her anytime you want". "Thanks". The girl looked relieved. 'Don't put your hopes to high, doll', I thought to myself, 'He's got lots of ideas and very few inhibitions'. The next slaves went briskly. I noticed that the gay couple chose a black boy from Brazil, with a very long, but slender cock and a normally endowed Scots redhead with strikingly white, almost transparent skin. 'Nice contrast, but don't put him in the sun'. The fellow with the masochistic girlfriend took a Russian girl, quite attractively, but solidly built, with prominent breasts and a no less imposing arse. "Good choice, she looks as if she can take a lot", I remarked. "That's what I thought, she won't break easily", he grinned. The sadistic couple had found two typical American college kids who already looked terrified. 'With good reason', I thought. The lad's father surprised me by claiming a handsome Arab boy. "Got my fill of ladies at home", he explained, "And I guess that Sonny will leave me a bit of his". The guy, who was uncertain about his sexuality and had seemed just as uncertain about his choice, finally settled for a British country rose. "I'll try some of the boys, but prefer a warm girl in my bed and she has nice feet". When it was the lad's turn, I told him to pick a petite little gamin from France for me. She wasn't my type of girl, I like them more voluptuous, especially in the chest region, but every time my eyes strayed past her, inspecting the display, I'd felt the familiar stab so I guessed that my fairy godmother was trying to send me a message. "I'll enjoy watching that pole splitting your arse", I whispered when handed her leash, nodding at my slaveboy's prominent organ. She shuddered, but with a strange gleam in her eyes. 'Three genuine submissives?' I asked myself.

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 3

I'd heard about dinners aboard the liner, but nevertheless got a surprise when entering the grand room. The scene was set for a Roman orgy. Guests were not seated at tables, but reclining on couches arranged in a circle around a raised dais. A maitre d' guided me to one of them and I stretched out, looking around and nodding to my neighbours. I was among the last to arrive, most of the guests had already settled down to enjoy a pre-dinner drink and an appetiser. All of them had their personal slave sitting or kneeling beside their couch, nearly all of them naked and most in some kind of restraint. I told mine to sit and slipped the end of her leash over a convenient hook. She sank gracefully to the floor, carefully spreading her skirt to sit with her bare bum directly on the polished floor and drew her chained feet up beside her. A hobbled slavegirl came tripping with the drink I'd ordered. She was of course naked, except for a pair of spike heel sandals, just a strap across her toes and two on either side of her heel, clipped to the leather band locked around her ankle. "Good evening, Sir. I'm your table for tonight". She tried to send me a smile, but it came out as a pained grimace. Pained, because she was exactly what she said, my table. A silver tray was clipped to her nipple rings, distorting even the firm teenage breasts cruelly, and by chains to her collar. On it was placed a high stemmed glass and five bowls with dips, small sausages and finely sliced pieces of cucumber and carrots. She steadied the tray with her hands while lowering herself, but let go of it as soon as she was on her knees and turned to the slaveboy who was following in her wake. He was equally naked, but instead of a hobble, his feet were kept apart by a spreader bar, forcing him to waddle awkwardly. A wine cooler was dangling from a leather strap around his already swollen ballsack. Unfortunately, for him that is, I'd ordered champagne, so not only did he have to carry the extra heavy bottle, but his cooler was packed with ice. He was wincing with pain and gritting his teeth when my waitress relieved him of the burden and he could shuffle away to serve another guest.

The tormented girl filled my glass and I took a sip of the delicious fluid, with a glance at my own slavegirl, who seemed slightly nauseated by the casual cruelty. "Relieved to be privately owned?" I offered her the glass. "Yes, Sir". "Better stay with the devil you know that wandering from one sadist to the next?" She shook her head. "You're no devil, Sir. Thank you". She drank gratefully. "Hmm". I took a piece of cucumber, dipped and munched it slowly. "Delicious. Like one?" "If it may please you, Sir". "It does". I fed her a piece and went on sharing the wine and snacks with her. Other guests were less kind. Across from me, a man seemed to fancy another kind of dipping. His slavegirl was kneeling with widespread legs to allow him easy access to her cunt, looking on in disgust when he took a sausage, rammed it up her tunnel and then stuffed it in his mouth, chewing contentedly. His innovation caught on quickly. All over the place vegetables and sausages found their way up creaming pussies, some of them coated with the more ordinary dippings, something the slavegirls didn't seem to appreciate. No wonder, considering what the mixture of vinegar and garlic did to the sensitive skin of their love tunnels. A woman with a male slave looked enviously at her neighbour, but got an idea and ordered her boy to turn his arse towards her, reaching back to open it. A sausage went up his brown hole, was pumped in and out a couple of times and then offered to the human table. The poor girl looked as if she was going to spew on the spot, but dutifully opened her mouth to suck the brownish slime off the disgusting thing before her mistress savoured it. That started another round of fun, when guests with slaves of different sex swapped snacks. The father and son placed the Nordic beauty and the Arab boy side by side between their couches to make full use of the three different holes. Marianne looked questioningly at me, opening her thighs, but I shook my head. I do like the taste of pussy, but this was too disgusting.

When the hors d'oeuvres had been devoured, our tables rose to stagger away for the first course. They came back with a delicious selection of sushi and the wine waiters followed with a cool Chablis, once again something you could enjoy while resting comfortably on an elbow. Merry talk and laughter flowed around the room while the booze raised our spirits. Apparently far from all had ordered wine. I didn't join the rumpus, just toasted my friends silently and otherwise shared the fish and rice with my slave, offering her a sip of wine every now and then. The noise died down when one of the representatives of the company mounted the dais.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please don't let me disturb your dinner, but as some of you know, we use this opportunity to show off a few special delicacies among our offers. You've already made your own inspection when selecting your personal slaves". He was interrupted by laughter and catcalls. "But as you know, we've had them for a week's basic training and during that discovered certain skills which we've taken care to refine. I think you'll appreciate them". Renewed laughter and applause. "I'm sure that you'll find the demonstration entertaining". He gestured and six slaveboys, black or Latinos, lined up on the stage, hands cuffed behind their backs. "I can't imagine that you haven't already noticed these very fine tools". He indicated the boys' extremely long penises. "So that's not what I want to show you". He gestured again to call up six female slaves, likewise cuffed. "Now these are fine girls". Applause. "Everyone can see that, but what is not so obvious are their oral skills. All of them are unique cocksuckers who can take a dick all the way down without trouble as they'll now show you". He stepped aside and the girls lowered themselves to their knees in front of the six boys, most of them blushing deeply when publicly humiliated like that, but dutifully caught the limp meat between their lips and began sucking and blowing on it. It didn't take a minute before the six cocks were fully erect and the company man ordered the girls to let them out for inspection. It was a magnificent sight and I whispered in my slave's ear if she thought she could deepthroat them. She nodded mutely. The girls on the stage had swallowed the meat again and this time let it disappear ever so slowly to let the audience follow the process. Especially one of them, a skinny teenager with an incredibly long neck, was fantastic. You could literally follow the enormous black tool on its way down her throat until her nose was pressed into the boy's pubic bone. "Impressive, isn't it?" Renewed applause. "Just imagine how it must feel, so hot and wet and yet narrow. OK, girls, get to work". The sinews of the six necks strained and relaxed, massaging the intruders and the boys closed their eyes, moaning softly and involuntarily thrusting their hips forward to get even further down the delicious funnels. "I can assure you that these girls are able to prolong the pleasure almost beyond imagination, keeping you on the edge for as long as you want, but we've more to show, so finish them off now". Seconds later the first boy exploded with a shout, quickly followed by his fellows. "Notice that the girls don't swallow, it goes directly into their stomachs". Thundering applause while the girls let go again, sucking the meat clean on the way, and stumbled to their feet to leave with the spent boys. It was a truly awesome demonstration and the floorshow didn't end there. While the courses changed, always small bites of exquisite delicacies you could eat with your fingers, we were treated to girls who could milk a cock dry while staying absolutely immobile, just using their cunt muscles, girls and boys who could use their arses in the same way and others with tongues so talented that they could make their fellows of both sexes come by licking their arses.

The air of the dining room was heavy with sex and my cock so stiff that it was almost painful. I was sure that my fellow male guests were in the same way, if not worse, and the ladies dripping, but we modestly contented ourselves with looking on. There were no actual rules about it, but it was considered bad form if guests indulged in public fornication. Making the slaves perform or using them in other ways, torturing or humiliating them was acceptable, but preferably done in the privacy of a cabin. Guests were expected to behave like ladies and gentlemen. Well, perhaps not quite, it became clear as the food was washed down. My neighbour, one of the single men, stuck to beer and had emptied three or four tankards when I saw him saying something to his slavegirl, gesturing to his crotch. She rose on her knees and I caught a look of disgust on her face before she opened his fly. He sighed with relief and her throat worked while she gulped down what he was feeding her. Disgusting, but done with decorum, I had to admit when she raised her head, zipped him up and sank back on her heels, grimacing. One of the ladies across from me had apparently noticed it too and touched her slaveboy's shoulder to make him dug his head under her long skirt. Marianne saw me looking and rose on her knees. "Thirsty?" I smiled to her, offering my glass. "Thank you, Sir, but I thought you might need me". "You like drinking piss?" "Not much, Sir". "But have done it?" "Yes, Sir". "Very well, I may use you, but don't need to just now, and we're leaving soon anyway". I'd been served a fine collection of cheeses and a splendid Bourgogne and felt no need for dessert, unless it was a good long fuck or two.

My table looked relieved when I got op to leave early, but the maitre d' hurried over to ask if something was wrong. I assured him that I was more than satisfied with the meal and that the service had been excellent. I waved to the lad and his father, he too jumped up and grabbed the old man's hand. 'Can't wait for that joint sessions, can you now, young man?' I thought and took my slavegirl's leash. The other two slaves had apparently enjoyed the cool of the evening on the balcony, but hurried in to kneel when they heard me enter the cabin. "Well fed and rested, ready for fun and games?" I asked brightly. "Yes, Sir". Lua looked up and smiled to me. "Thank you very much, Sir. You are so kind". "Well, perhaps, we'll see about that. Into the bedroom". It was dominated by a large bed with solid head and tailboards, very convenient for tying someone up, if you didn't prefer using the ringbolts in the ceiling. I fetched some lengths of rope and followed the three slaves. "Hands behind you", I told the two lovers. "And you strip off that skirt and the bedclothes, Marianne". I cuffed the two and threaded one of the ropes through a bolt and around the link in Lua's cuffs, hauling it taut until she was on tiptoe, arms stretched up painfully in a strappado, then secured it and cuffed her feet. "Come here, boy". I grabbed Luan's limp cock, stroke it hard and aimed it at his girlfriend's arse. "In you go". I opened the crack and guided it to the puckered hole, pressing him forward until the tool was buried and his balls banged against her slit, then repeated the bondage. "You sure look great". The two athletic brown bodies merged into one, the boy's nose pressed between the girl's shoulder blades. "But are hardly comfortable". "No, Sir". Lua moaned. "Just wait a minute. I'll give you something to take your minds off the discomfort". I turned to the petite girl. "On your back, arms akimbo". I chained her wrists to the bedposts, took off the hobble, and forced first one leg, then the other up beside her ears, securing them in position by tying her big toes to the headboard with twine. "Delicious!" I admired her pert little bottom while tearing off my clothes. "I can hardly wait, but a little warming up won't come amiss". I smiled evilly and took a short whip. "I'm afraid that I fell asleep, but you kept count of the bellringing, didn't you?" I aimed a hard lash across the top of Luan's buttocks. "Yes, Sir. Twentyone times". "Really?" He surprised me by his obvious honesty, he could just as well have lied about the number. "Now pump that hole, nice and slow, but don't you dare come". He drew back a bit and just as he was stabbing in again, I laid on a new stripe. He grunted, but got the message and continued sliding back and forth, guided by my baton. I aimed carefully to place the stripes close together, reddening the globes evenly from the end of his spine to the top of his thighs. He took it well, just grunted a couple of times when I hit the plug still buried in his by now undoubtedly aching hole. Only when the last lash slammed into the sensitive skin where buttocks and thighs meet did a short yelp escape him. "OK, that's it. You can stop pumping now, but stay up her". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "For what?" "My punishment, Sir". "Pleasure's all mine". I slid my hand down his arse, feeling the burning hide and crouched down to look at the bound girl's pained face. "And how many times did your little bells jingle?" "Many, many times, Sir. I cramp and is trembling". "Hmm, that sounds pretty bad, for you that is". "Yes, Sir", she whispered, clearly frightened. "A hundred lashes, at least, I guess". "Yes, Sir". "Please, Sir". It came from the boy on top of her. "Please, Sir, let me take some of them for her". "Not all? You want her to get hurt?" "No, Sir, but we serve and you like to hurt her". "I do, but don't worry, I'm no beast, so I'll limit myself to this". I flicked my wrist and the flat tip of the whip hit her left nipple. A short scream escaped her, more in surprise than pain, I thought, and she kept silent when I hit the other nipple. "Had your tits whipped before, have you, girl?" I aimed at the underside of her left breast. "Yes, Sir", she gasped. "Like it?" Her right breast got the same treatment. "Little, Sir". "OK, you'll get ten more, count them". I began with the top of her left mammary. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir". The lashes were not very hard, she was in an awkward position for a breast whipping, but she could feel them all right and her boobs had turned a very nice red when the right nipple received the last lash. "Ten, Sir. Thank you, Sir". Her voice was strained. "You're welcome. Now hang tight and keep silent. You won't want to disturb my sleep". I straightened up and the boy raised his head, looking incredulously at me. 'Will he keep us like this all night?' I could almost hear his brain working, but he didn't say anything, just rested his head on the smooth back beneath him again.

After this warming up my dick was waving stiffly in front of me, almost painfully hard. I was aching for relief, but thought I could wait just a bit longer and turned to the girl bound on the bed. "And now the dessert". She looked calmly at me and hardly flinched when the whip hit across the sole of her left foot. "You have very shapely feet, Marianne". "Thank you, Sir". Her voice was steady even if I hit her other sole, hard. "That's something I appreciate, nice feet, especially if they've been warmed a bit". And that's what I did, warmed them, hit the soles, the balls, the toes, the heels, at least twenty times. It hurt, a lot, but she did little more than jerk them as far as her bondage allowed and flinch when I hit the thin hide of her high arches. When I at last gave in, dropped the whip and jumped between her widespread legs, burying myself, her tunnel was not just creaming, but sopping wet. "You are a little painslut, aren't you?" I twisted her nipple rings and banged into her with all my strength, raping her brutally until I came with a shout of joy, collapsing on her strained body, totally spent. "Yes, Siir", she screamed, and I felt her body go rigid while her own orgasm washed over her.

I stayed where I was, relishing the heat of her love tunnel and catching my breath. To my utter amazement I felt my dick stirring again after a short while. She was gently massaging me with her cunt muscles! I raised my head to look into her mischievously smiling eyes. "Bon, Mâitre?" "I...". My cock was slowly growing hard. "I, eh, I can't". "Can't what, Sir?" "I can't come twice in a row". "No, Sir?" Her eyebrows rose and I felt her redoubling her efforts. "Damn you! Are you a witch or something?" "No, Sir, just a slavegirl who wants to please her master". "In that case". I withdrew the greasy pole and touched her brown hole with the engorged head. "In that case, I won't deny you the pleasure". I pressed and sensed that she relaxed her sphincter to let me in. "No virgin here either?" "No, Sir". I entered the narrow tunnel slowly and gently. "Like it?" "You fit better into me than Luan, Sir, but it hurts a bit". 'What a polite way to tell me that the slaveboy's tool was larger than mine, not that I didn't know'. "But it hurts good?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Aah, ooh, yes, Sir". She closed her eyes and a tremor of pain flickered across her face. My nuts banged against her arse and I stayed still for a couple of minutes, until she looked up at me with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sir". This time I fucked her slowly, enjoying the incredibly narrow tunnel until I after about twenty minutes spurted into her bowels with a sigh, not a shout. "That was very, very good, Marianne". I kissed her lips softly and her tongue came out to lick mine. "Thank you, Sir".

It had been a long day and I was tired, tough not as much as my tortured slaves, but didn't want to end the game yet, so I withdrew my soiled tool, only to rise on my knees, waving it in front of the soft mouth. Not even a shadow of resentment showed in her eyes when she dutifully craned her neck to catch the disgusting thing and suck it clean. "Thank you". I slipped back out, reached for a sheet and a pillow, rolled down beside her, turned off the light, and called a cheerful 'Goodnight'. Three strained voices answered and, chuckling to myself, I turned on my side, covering myself. 'What a day!' Much, much better than I'd ever imagined, thanks to my choice of slaves. Or my everlasting luck? This was going to be my best holiday ever. I lay for a while, letting my imagination run free. 'Endless opportunities for fulfilling every weird and evil fantasy I could cook up'. The room was silent, except for the laboured breathing of the tormented youngsters. 'Evil, yes, but not beastly'. I was just about to drift away when I took a grip of myself and turned on the light again.

"A splendid day deserves a proper finish". I knelt up to untie the girl beside me and rose to free the other two. The three of them shook their aching limbs, moaning softly. "Better take a long, hot shower. Luan washes the girls and you him". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". With grateful smiles they filed into the bathroom, leaving the door open. The boy whispered something and started the shower before pissing long and hard, while the girls discretely turned their backs. I grinned to myself and picked up the phone. When they came out again, still damp and undoubtedly feeling much better, they found me on the balcony with a bottle of champagne and four glasses. They made to drop to their knees, but I stopped them with a raised hand. "Put on your skirts". When they came back, the two brown slaves looking every inch like natives, I told them to sit on the chairs and handed them glasses of the sparkling drink. "Cheers". They toasted me timidly and took a sip. I emptied mine and leaned back, admiring Lua's ample breasts, clearly marked by my whip. When she saw me staring, she drew back her shoulders, presenting herself better to my probing eyes. "Yes, a splendid day, don't you agree?" "Yes, Sir". The smile on the gamin face appeared genuine. Lua seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded gravely. "And you, boy, how was your day?" He held my eyes. "Hard, Sir". "Surprised how hard it is to be a slaveboy?" "No, Sir, but it is hard to be in Lua's arse and not come". He grinned hugely. "There's that, yes". I grinned back and topped up our glasses. 'So far, so good, old boy', I thought, 'Press them, but don't stress them'. I toasted them again. "To slavery". They emptied their glasses with me.

"Let's go to bed". There was a couch in the sitting room and I told the two lovers to drop their skirts and lie down together, so I could clip the girl's wrists to the boy's ankles and vice versa. "Sleep well. You're welcome to suck and lick each other off, quietly". I slapped Lua's rump and guided my third slave towards the bedroom, followed by their thanks and wishes for a good night. Back on my bed I shackled Marianne's ankles and wrist, hands behind her, and spooned up to her. "Hold my cock, but only that", I whispered into her ear and reached around to grab her left breasts. "Good night". "Bonne nuit, Mâitre". Her small hands encased my soft cock in a warm embrace.

It was still trapped the next morning, but in a very different embrace. I came slowly to my senses, resting on my back, and carefully opened my eyes a crack to see the shackled girl kneeling between my legs, her mouth closed around me. Pretending to be asleep I enjoyed the sight of her slim back and upturned arse. 'Truly an experienced slavegirl', I thought, 'Now let's see if she's properly trained'. With silent mirth I let go a stream of morning piss. She was. Her back went rigid for a moment, but her throat worked effortlessly. "Mmm", I mumbled when my bladder was empty. She swallowed the last drops and licked me clean. "Bonne matin, Mâitre". Her sparkling eyes met mine. "Good morning, slave. Did you like your drink?" "Not much, Sir. Too much garlic in your dinner". "I'm sorry about that, but it was good". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "The dinner". "Yes, Sir. Thank you for sharing it with me". She positively grinned. "Can I have a second drink, Sir?" "In a minute". I rolled off the bed and padded to the sitting room. "Good morning, slept well?" The two slaves raised their heads between each other's legs. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "Did she give you some relief, Luan?" "Yes, Sir, twice". He grinned. "Thank you, Sir. But, Sir, I, eh, I...". "Have to dump another load. OK, you can free yourselves. Lua takes out your plug and cleans it, with her mouth, while you shit, then puts it back in. Understood?" His face darkened. "Yes, Sir". "Take a shower and fetch breakfast. We'll eat on the balcony, the four of us". "Yes, Sir". I nodded amiably and went back to the bedroom where the chained slavegirl was waiting, arse high. "What do you prefer? To suck me off or that I use your arse?" "What my master prefers, Sir". "Sure, but I'm asking". "My arse, Sir". "You like it there?" "It hurt, Sir, but good". She buried her face in the sheets, wriggling invitingly, and I didn't hesitate to line up and ease my erect tool into the narrow passage. "Ooh!" She sighed and I rested for a moment before beginning a gentle fucking while fingering her clit.

I took my time, slowly sliding back and forth and teasing the stiffening little nubbin, while the girl's moaning grew heavy and turned into muffled cries of ecstasy. "Ready?" I drew back until only the aching head of my cock remained inside. "Yes, Siir!" She screamed wildly when I rammed all the way back up, to begin hammering her relentlessly, removing my hand from her clit to slap her buttocks as hard as I could. We came together in a chorus of shouts and screams of joy and I collapsed on her sweaty back, crushing her lithe body.

"Mon Dieu! Oh, mon Dieu!" She was trembling and sobbing beneath me. "Ooh, mon Dieu!" With an effort I rose on weak knees to extricate myself with a soft plop and release a stream of sperm and arsejuices down her limp thighs. "Lua!" I sat down on the edge of the bed and the brown girl entered to kneel in front of me. She knew what was coming and had opened her mouth before I gestured to my soiled cock. When she'd finished and sat back on her heels, lowering her head to hide a grimace, I told her to clean her slave sister too. She hesitated, looking at the slimy mess with disgust and briefly up at me, but when I just stared impatiently back stuck out her tongue and buried her nose between Marianne's arsecheeks. Muffled sounds of retching escaped her, but she dutifully went on with the loathsome task and was slobbering away on the other slavegirl's thighs when Luan entered to announce that breakfast was served. He kept his face expressionless, but his eyes expressed pity and anger to see his beloved humiliated like that. I waited until she'd licked away the last traces of my morning fuck before releasing Marianne of her bondage and ordering all three of them at table.

Not surprisingly, Lua downed a large glass of milk as soon as I'd told them to eat their fill. Rarely had I enjoyed a breakfast so much, sitting there in the nude with two beautiful girls and a handsome boy. They were shy and subdued at first, but I tried to make them relax by chatting quite unperturbed about things we had in common, like music, films, sport, and in the end I think they enjoyed the time we spent together in leisure as much as I did, but we had other things to do. The ship was due to arrive at our destination some time after lunch and I wanted to play a few games before that, so I rose and told Marianne to join me in the shower and the other two to clear away. When we came out and I'd been helped into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, I chained the girls' wrists to ringbolts in the ceiling, raising them on tiptoe and clipping their ankle restraints together. Then I lashed the boy's wrists and elbows with thin rope, tightening it until his elbows almost met. He didn't utter a sound, but his lips were turning white when the rope cut painfully into his skin. "Lie down on the floor, feet towards the girls". Grunting with pain, he lowered himself to his knees and then turned on his bum. "On your back". That hurt, but he stretched out as ordered and I grabbed his ankles to haul him up to the strained bodies. "Now you've better keep those legs raised". With an evil grin I tied twine around the big toe of his left foot and bound the other end to Lua's nipple ring, then repeated the process with Marianne and his other foot. "Innovative, isn't he, your master?" He was forced to rest solely on his painfully tied arms, raising his arse to keep some slack in the toe ties, or risk hurting the girls. "Have a nice morning". I chuckled evilly and left them to enjoy their predicament.

He would last for about an hour, I reckoned and went on deck to see what was going on. The games were new and a bit wilder than yesterday's. One of them looked quite fun and I went over to try my hand, collecting a handful of lead pellets. A number of boys and girls were tied to vertical poles, two and two opposite each other, to serve as targets or rather carry the small plastic buckets in which you were supposed to throw the pellets from a distance of about ten feet. At first glance it looked easy enough if you had a good eye and a steady hand, but I soon discovered that it wasn't. The damned slaves kept moving the targets, especially after a successful hit. No wonder, really, the buckets were hanging on strings tied between the naked bodies. Some from nipple ring to nipple ring of two girls, two boys or a girl and a boy. Some between two girls' pussy rings or tied around the exposed cockheads of two boys or from pussy ring to cockhead. But it was great fun, for the guests that is, and a fair number were competing fiercely, egging each other on, laughing and joking, while the slaves whimpered and cried with pain and shame. I tried several different targets before concentrating on filling one of the lower buckets between a boy and a girl. They'd been screaming in pain for some time before my last pellet hit spot on, only to roll off the pile I'd made.

Time was running and I just took a quick look at two of the other games on offer. The first was a shooting range. Three girls were dangling from their wrists, feet well off the deck, and three boys by their ankles with widespread legs. Guests were firing small rubber balls from spring operated toy guns at the naked bodies. The slaves' faces were protected by fencing masks but they were helpless to prevent the hard bullets slamming into their flesh, though they did try twisting and turning to avoid hits on the most painful spots, which of course were where most shots were aimed. A long line of guests queuing to wait their turn proved how popular the game was and the noise was almost deafening, what with the guests hooting in triumph and the slaves moaning and wailing every time a bullet hit a nipple, a ballsack or a lucky shot scored a cockhead or the top of a cunt slit.

The third game was a special version of blind man's buff. Six girls were tied bent over sawhorses with widespread legs and gaping pussies. Six boys had their hands cuffed behind their backs, blindfolds covered their eyes and their cocks were kept erect and throbbing by a tight rubber band at the root. With generous use of a whip six guests competed to guide a boy into a waiting hole. They seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely, but I found it rather boring to watch and went down to my cabin. The girls' panicked eyes darted from me to the boy on the floor. His legs were trembling with strain and his body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. It was a close call and I felt a bit ashamed. It hadn't been my intention to scare the girls out of their wits. I'd pocketed a pair of scissors and quickly cut the twine free of their nipple rings. Lua sobbed with relief and Marianne mouthed a 'Thank you, Sir', while the boy slowly lowered his cramped legs.

I almost took pity on him, but didn't want to cut short the game I'd planned. "On your knees, boy". The tip of my shoe touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes, staring angrily at me, but rolled over to present his arse, moaning with pain. "Move closer to your girlfriend, kiss her feet". When his mouth was pressed to her toes, I hauled out the butt plug. "Open up". I waved the disgusting thing in front of the brown girl's mouth. She didn't hesitate, even if it was the third time that morning she tasted shit, and let me gag her with it. "Now let's see if it has done any good". I dropped my shorts and kicked the boy's feet apart, kneeling behind him. He grunted angrily when I eased myself into his slightly gaping hole and a shudder ran through his abused body when I slowly began fucking him. "Aah, hot and narrow! Good boy". I took my time, listening to his heavy breathing and looking up at the gagged girl, reading the pity in her eyes, while she watched her boyfriend being sodomised in front of her, feeling his hot breath on her bare feet. "Yeah!" I sighed with relief and spurted into his bowels. "Great!" Extricating myself with a soft plop I rose to retrieve the plug and free the girls' wrists. "You can fetch our lunch, but put on your skirts first". "Yes, Sir". They unclipped their ankle restraints, dressed hurriedly and left while I released the boy from his strict bondage.

He fought to get to his feet, but his weak legs refused to support him and I had to help him to the shower. "Lean against the wall, I'll wash you". He was moaning softly when my hands slid down his legs, gently massaging the cramped muscles. "Angry, slaveboy?" I opened his crack to wash away my sperm. He didn't answer. "Do you want to stay with me?" "Yes, Sir". "Why? You hate me": "I want to be with Lua, and I don't hate you, Sir" "Why not? I'm abusing you". "We gamble, we lose, we are abused. If you don't do it, another will, and you are kind...Sir". "Kind?" "You allow us sleep together, you eat with us, you talk". 'Good', I thought, 'It works'.

Part 4

We ate a leisurely lunch at the balcony, once again chatting almost like old friends, until it was announced that the island was in sight and I brought them on deck with me to watch it grow out of the ocean. The liner couldn't anchor, but kept circling slowly while first slaves and luggage, then we passengers were brought ashore in launches. It lasted a couple of hours and a naked Luan was waiting for me at the jetty when I eventually arrived. "Welcome to Treasure Island, Sir". He was positively beaming when he saw me looking surprised at the light carriage beside him. "A rickshaw, Sir", he explained, "They're going to train some of us with them, but I told them I've been running one for years as a part time job back home, so I got permission to take this". "Very convenient". I seated myself and he went between the poles. "I'm supposed to be chained to these, Sir, but I can only do one hand myself". "That's not necessary, but this comes very handy". I took a single tail buggy whip from its holder and lashed at his bare arse. "Yip, Yip!" Flashing me a smile over his shoulder he ran off along a winding path up the slope. It was great to see the naked boy running in front of me, apparently effortlessly, strong muscles playing under his brown hide and the hardened soles of his bare feet flashing. I lashed at his arse a couple of times, just for the fun of it, always getting a smile back. "You're used to running barefoot?" I called. "Yes, Sir, to look native". "But not barearsed, I suppose?" "No, Sir, in a pareo". I laid a stripe across his back. "And you weren't encouraged with this". "No, Sir". He grinned and quickened the pace, hauling me still further up the mountain, past a number of cottages until we finally verged to the left, following another, narrower path and reached a clearing.

My two slavegirls were kneeling by the steps leading up to my home for the next three months, naked, knees spread to show their shaven sex, hands clasped behind their necks and eyes demurely downcast. I got out to have a closer look at the surroundings. The house was just one storey, with whitewashed walls, a high, thatched roof and surrounded by a wide shaded porch on three sides, with a breathtaking view over the lagoon and deep blue sea. Behind it was a paved courtyard between the house and a shed. There were clotheslines, but some more interesting items as well. Two sturdy poles supported a top beam, well equipped with hooks and hoists, for the use of tying or chaining a victim in innumerable positions. A sawhorse was at hand for a caning or a ride and two sets of four pegs anchored in the pavement offered opportunities to tie a slave spreadeagle. A set of wooden adjustable stocks completed the equipment. The shed housed a tool room, a laundry room and a third, empty but for a small cage, a thin mattress on the floor, and sturdy chains fixed to the walls. In a corner was a showerhead over an open drain. Apparently the slave quarters.

I went back round the house, appraising the soft lawn and flowery bushes surrounding it, to the front where Luan had stowed the rickshaw away somewhere and joined his slave sisters. The porch was well furnished with colonial style rattan chairs, couches and a dining table for four. A large sitting room, running the whole length and half the width of the cottage and open to the roof, was furnished in the same way. Behind that were two airy bedrooms, both with sturdy four poster beds, two luxurious bathrooms, and a well equipped kitchen. Hooks in the walls and beams didn't look as if they'd ever held paintings or hanging plants. There was a telephone and a complete computer station in the sitting room and large TV sets in both bedrooms, satellite connected.

Very satisfied I went out to the front porch to sink down in an armchair. "Do we have anything to drink?" Marianne turned her head. "A few bottles of wine, Sir". "Champagne?" "Yes, Sir". "Fetch a bottle and four glasses". "Yes, Sir". "And put on your skirt". "Yes, Sir". She jumped up. "You two as well". "Yes, Sir". When they came back, Luan carrying a tray with cooler and glasses, I told them to sit down on the chairs and him to serve us. "To a great holiday". They toasted me, but kept their eyes to the floor. I actually meant for all of us, but they wouldn't believe me or understand if I'd said it out loud. I would enjoy them, use them, torment them, of course I would, but I couldn't do it all the time, or wouldn't. I couldn't stay there in splendid 'masterly' isolation for three months, it would bore me to death. I just hoped they could cope with keeping me friendly company one moment and being abused the next if I felt like it. Good guy, bad guy, a delicate balance, but these first days seemed promising. "Now a few rules". They looked up. "You'll of course do all the work here, see to it that I'm comfortable. I'll leave it to you to organise that. You may spend whatever is left of the days as you like when satisfied that everything is perfect, but if I don't agree, I'll punish you. Fair enough?" "Yes, Sir". Luan nodded. "You'll keep on your skirts, unless told to get naked. You'll sleep in the second bedroom, unless I ban you to that horrible cell out back as a punishment". The two lovers exchanged a surprised look. "One of you will share my bed". I caught the ghost of a smile playing on the French girl's lips. "You can cook, I take it, Marianne?" "Yes, Sir". "Unless I invite guests for dinner, which I may do from time to time, we eat together here". "Thank you, Sir". It was Luan again. "And I'll of course be playing with you". "Of course, Sir". "To a great holiday, then". This time they smiled to me while we emptied the glasses. I told the boy to curl up as my footstool and waved the girls away. Marianne topped up my glass and left with their own, while Luan took off his skirt and knelt in front of my chair. I clipped his wrist and ankle restraints together before resting my feet on his arse.

I relaxed, sipping the sparkling wine and looking at the puckered hole in front of me, but resisted the temptation. After a while I got up to fetch one of the books I'd brought for the holiday, certain as I was to win the game. The girls were busy unpacking my suitcases, Lua hanging up clothes for airing outside. Marianne sank to her knees when I entered the bedroom. "Have you planned dinner?" "Yes, Sir, a...". I held up my hand. "Surprise me, but how do you get provisions?" "We phone the main house and a slave will bring up what we need". "Remember to order some good wines". "Yes, Sir". I nodded to her and went back to my chair, soon absorbed in the book.

Only twittering birds broke the silence and, occasionally, a sigh from my human footstool. Once a couple of naked boys came running, dragging a handcart, but they veered behind the house. Apparently our provisions. I was close to dozing off when I heard someone coming up the path. A moment later the foot guy and his girl were jogging past, but stopped when they saw me. "Hello there". He came up to the porch, offering a hand. "Nice place you've got here". "No nicer than yours, I take it". "No, it's the same kind of cabin, but further down. The view from up here is better and you don't have any near neighbours". "Out jogging?" "Taking a look around and preparing for some fun". I looked at the fair girl he'd chosen. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and she was naked except for a pair of sneakers, no socks. A heavy chain dangled between her nipple rings. "Yeah". He grinned. "Her feet will be hot and tasty when we come back, ready to be eaten". "Can I offer you something to drink?" "A beer would be great". I waved him to a chair and released my footstool, who slowly got to his feet, shaking out the cramps. "A glass of white wine for me". "Yes, Sir". He glanced at the sweaty girl, who'd dropped to her knees, looking pretty winded. "Better bring a bottle of water for her". My guest nodded and he disappeared into the house. "Mighty fine specimen you've got there". "Sure". "How's his arse?" "Tight. Have you tried one of the boys yet?" He shook no. "Gonna explore her fully before I move on. Fine, tight pussy, but she's a lousy cocksucker. Seems she's only had one boyfriend and she refused to suck him off, poor guy. Something of a bitch, if you ask me, only let him fuck her twice. Nineteen and practically a virgin!" He shook his head. "But she's gonna learn, a lot. Won't be much Miss Primrose about her when she leaves from here. Pretty well blocked out by then". He chuckled. "Looking forward to start blocking out her arse tonight". The girl looked down, shuddering and Luan knelt beside her to hold a bottle of water to her lips. "But first I'm gonna lick those hot little toes of hers and fuck them, spurting into one of her sneakers. We'll do that at least once a day and what with her jogging around in them too, it's gonna be a mighty fine crusty souvenir to bring back home". He laughed and emptied the glass Luan had brought him, in two gulps. "Well, better get going again. Thanks for the beer, see you around". He rose and the girl quickly took last sip of water before getting to her feet and run off, encouraged by a hard slap to her plump bottom. 'Well, well, there are all kinds of people, perhaps one should try that sweaty feet thing'. Luan topped up my glass and prepared to serve as my footstool again. "No". I moved to a couch. "I think I'll stretch out here for a while. You can help the girls". "Yes, Sir". A few minutes later he came out again to cut a big bunch of flowers.

I spent the next couple of hours half reading, half dozing. My slaves apparently busied themselves perfecting our temporary home. I dimly heard a vacuum cleaner humming and Luan came out to trim some of the bushes, which were obstructing the view. The girls looked out frequently to see if I needed anything and when Lua once again was kneeling by my side I reached for her chin, forcing her to look at me, while fondling her breasts with the other hand. It wasn't long before her eyes became vacant and she began moaning softly. "Horny, are you?" I whispered, pinching a nipple. She nodded mutely. "Haven't been fucked for two days now, huh?" "More than a week, Sir". "You weren't allowed during the training week?" She shook no, thrusting her tit into my hand. "But your boyfriend licked you last night, didn't he?" "Yes, Sir". "Yet you're still missing something?" "Oh yes, Sir", she breathed. "Very well, I'll offer you a choice. You may ride me, now, but I want Luan to whip your breasts while you're at it. If not, I won't use you for the next week". She stared at me. "But don't you want to whip me, Sir?" "I do and I will, but not right now". "I, eh, do you want me, Sir?" "I do, but this time it's up to you. A ride and a whipping now or no sex for the next week". She looked down for a moment. "Yes, Sir". "Yes, Sir, what?" "I want to, to ride". "And a tit whipping?" "Yes, Sir". "You really are a horny slut, aren't you?" "Yes, Sir". "OK, fetch Luan, but don't forget to tell him that I haven't forced you". I grinned and she smiled back, rose gracefully and went over to her boyfriend, talking earnestly to him. He shook his head, but she grabbed his hand, dragging him along.

"She told you what she wants?" "Yes, Sir". He avoided my eyes. "You don't like her choice?" "No, Sir". "Which part of it, the fucking or the whipping?" "Whipping, Sir". "You don't like whipping her?" "Not her breast, Sir". "Very well, I'll make it up to you, then. You don't have to whip her, but then she won't get fucked for the next week". He looked from me to the girl. "Tough choice, huh?" "Yes, Sir", he whispered between clenched teeth. "So what is it to be?" He swallowed hard. "I'll whip her, Sir". "You love her that much?" "Yes, Sir". The girl was staring fixedly at the ground, her hide turning a deeper shade of brown. "Touching!" I grinned to him. "Very well, run off. You have one hour". "Sir?" He stared at me. "Take that horny slut to your bedroom and fuck her brains out". His handsome face split into the widest grin I'd ever seen. "Sir, yes, Sir. Sir!" He grabbed her hand to haul her away. "And you may warm her arse a bit, if you think she deserves it", I called after them. "Yes, Sir". Chuckling to myself I watched them disappear into the house, then rose and sauntered after them to see if Marianne could leave her dinner preparations for a moment to share a glass of wine with me. The sitting room seemed brighter, with vases of fresh flowers everywhere and my nose registered pleasant smells from the kitchen. I still wished to be surprised, so I stood in the open door with my back to her while calling the question. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". I heard her closing the oven and then clinking of glass. From the second bedroom came sounds of flesh slapping flesh and muffled squealing. I was nursing my second glass after Marianne had gone back to the kitchen when the two lovers came out, looking slightly flushed but sporting radiant smiles. The knelt beside the couch and bowed their heads. "Satisfied, girl?" "Yes, Sir", she whispered. "Good. Turn your backs and give me your hands". I cuffed them, kicked off my loafers and opened my shorts. "Lua licks my feet, Luan sucks my cock, but don't let me come". They shuffled into position and the boy sent me a grateful smile before bowing over my crotch to swallow the flaccid meat. I leaned back, sipping the wine and pretending to read, enjoying the two skilful mouths and tongues.

"Hey, what's this? Pure vanilla! We can't have that, can we now, here on Torture Island". I looked up to see the leather couple approaching along the track bordering my garden. They were riding two rickshaws, of course drawn by their slaves. The two skater boys were naked except for heavy boots and a leather harness, with straps down their arsecracks and around their cocks and balls, displaying them prominently. The boys were sweating profusely, but seemed none the worse for wear. "Treasure Island", I corrected, "And they sure are treasures". I pushed the gently sucking slave's head away and stuffed my cock back into my shorts. "How about a beer?" The burly types looked at each other. "Yeah, OK, thanks. We're making a short tour of the place before going down for dinner. You coming?" I shook no and released my slaves. "I have my own cook". They dismounted and came up to shake hands and drop into deck chairs. "Good for you. I don't think these two can do much more than heat a pizza, probably not even without burning it. OK, guys, you can take a break". "Thanks, Master". The boys let go of the poles and squatted beside their respective master's chair, looking hungrily at Lua's bare breasts when she served the beer. "Better water your horses", I suggested. One of the men grinned to the slaves. "Want a beer?" "Sure, Master". "You know what to do, then". "Yes, Master". One of the boys got up to collect a buggy whip, knelt to offer it and then rose to bend over, spreading his legs and touching his toes. His fellow positioned himself beside him and their master rose to deliver ten stinging lashes to the already striped globes. The boys grunted, but didn't cry out and my other guest nodded appreciatively. "Tough guys, those two. We offer them a deal. They can drink the same as us, provided that they pay for it, and they do, each and every time". His fellow sat down again and Luan fetched two cans.

When my guests had left, Marianne came out to announce that dinner would be ready in half an hour and I decided to grab a quick shower. Lua followed to wash me. "Mmm, nice". I squirmed when her soft hands soaped up my cock and balls lovingly, and jumped when a finger suddenly penetrated my arsehole. "Hey, what are you doing?" She looked up, grinning mischievously. "Wash, Sir". "This'll cost you. Get up and put your hands against the wall!" Now a bit nervous she complied and I told her to sway her back and stick out her bottom. "Your turn". I unscrewed the hose from the showerhead and rammed it up her brown hole. She screamed, as much in surprise as in pain, I guessed, when it went in and moaned loudly when ice cold water spurted up her bowels. "Please, Sir, please, it hurts!" "Stop complaining and thank me instead. Now you won't have to swallow your own shit when I've used this hole". I slapped her rump. "Th...thank you, Sir", she yelped. I put a hand on her stomach to feel it growing and listened keenly while she changed from moaning to squealing to screaming, then turned off the water. "Ooh!" She bent over, clutching her swollen stomach. "Ooh, it hurts!" "Now clench that slave arse tight, girl. Don't you dare spill a drop until I've left. I don't want to see the mess". I stepped out of the shower, leaving the end of the hose plugging her and took my time towelling off, combing my hair carefully before leaving the tormented girl to her own devices.

Luan was waiting in the sitting room. His handsome face changed from concerned to puzzled and then split into a grin when we heard squeals and moans of relief, accompanied by unmistakable sounds of bowels being emptied. "A drink before dinner, Sir?" "Just a glass of wine". "Yes, Sir". I strolled out to the porch where the table was laid for four with crystal and silverware, linen napkins and a big bowl of sweet scented flowers. Flickering candles were the only source of light in the growing darkness. 'How utterly romantic', I thought. The boy came out with the glass and I stood sipping the cool wine, looking down the slope where pinpricks of light revealed hidden cabins. As my guest had told, the nearest neighbour was at least five hundred yards away, whereas the other cabins were clustered much more closely. 'Nice to have some privacy and peace'. Just then the silence was broken by a distant but very distinct scream, soon followed by another and several more. 'Having fun down there, are you?' That first series of screams came from the right and were so shrilly that it had to be a girl. A moment later deep bellows from the left confirmed that the island held male as well as female slaves. Then another girl gave voice to her agony, quickly followed by a third. It was as if a dam had burst, screaming and wailing seemed to erupt everywhere, still faint, but not to be ignored. "Will it please you if I serve the first course now, Sir". The Polynesian girl's voice was quavering and when I turned, her eyes were wide with fear. "Yes, please". She flinched when I touched her face gently with the back of my hand. "A very special dinner entertainment". "Yes, Sir". "But we won't contribute to it". I sent her a reassuring smile and seated myself at the head of table.

The meal was even better than I'd hoped for. Seven different courses, elegantly served and easy to digest, perfect for the tropical climate, and accompanied by excellent wines. To brush up my rather rusty French, I stuck to that during dinner, encouraging Marianne to tell about herself. She grew up in small rural village in Southern France and was from an early age aware that she was a submissive. Not sexually, of course, but she knew nothing better than to be caught and held captive, helplessly tied up, playing cowboys and Indians or cops and robbers. As she grew into her teenage years, she discovered that she became aroused when tied up and even more if she was tickled or 'tortured' in some other way. She actually had her first orgasm during one of those games, at the tender age of thirteen, when hugging a tree, her wrists tied behind the fairly thick trunk and her chest pressed into its bark. When her playmates began tickling her ribs she squealed and squirmed, rubbing against it. With just the fabric of a thin t-shirt between the nipples of her budding breasts and the rough surface, it hurt, but stubborn as she was, she refused to give in, just gritted her teeth and endured the torture in silence. Eventually the pain was replaced by something else, something she'd never felt before, a kind of heat that spread slowly from her nipples to her chest, down her stomach and into her crotch. She was slowly drifting away, sinking into herself until she hardly felt the tickling hands or the coarse bark. A throbbing between her legs woke her again and she was wondering what was happening to her when something exploded down there. She threw back her head, screaming shrilly and then almost passed out, slumping limply in her bonds. The other kids got the scare of their lives and untied her to lay her on the grass, fussing nervously about while she slowly came to her senses. One of the girls noticed a wet spot on her shorts and asked if she'd pissed herself. She knew she hadn't, but blushing deeply admitted to it and managed to joke the episode away as the result of their skilled tickling.

Later on, alone by herself, she tried pinching her nipples and felt the heat rising again. She still didn't understand what was happening, but knew what she liked and continued experimenting with her body, found out that she could recreate the wonderful feeling by rubbing the little thing between her legs and how to make it more intense by putting clothespins on her nipples. She lost her virginity on her fifteenth birthday, to a cousin who was three years older than she and experienced enough to make it more than the messy and disappointing affair that is most teenagers' first introduction to sex. They did it again and she learned to suck cock, even to take it up her arse, so she wasn't unprepared when she had to move to the provincial capital to finish her high school education. Her parents weren't rich, but one of her uncles, a bachelor, and teacher at the gymnasium, agreed to take her in, provided that she kept house for him. It soon became clear that he expected more than just a maid and cook, but she took it in her stride when he one night entered her room, hauled out his cock and demanded that she suck him. He wasn't that old, about thirty to her sixteen, and quite handsome, so her extra task was no burden. After a couple of months he tied her to the bed one night and licked and fucked her to an earth shattering orgasm. That made her tell him about her secret playing with herself and from then on she gradually grew to become his slave. Naked when they were alone together, shaved and with shackled ankles, spanked or whipped if she did something wrong or annoyed him. When she after a couple of years was ready to enter university and had to move again, he introduced her to a lecturer who was willing, more than willing I suspect, to take her in on the same terms. That went well and she was a content and well trained slave when he met another submissive, a colleague more his own age, and they fell in love, leaving no room for her. They offered to find her another master, but she'd read about the lottery and applied, with the result we now knew. A fascinating story, which lasted throughout the meal. Afterwards the slaves cleared away and washed up while I enjoyed the last of the wine until they came out with the coffee. We talked about other things for a while until I told them to make ready for bed.

When they entered my bedroom, naked and a bit apprehensive, I told the girls to lie down side by side, chained their wrists and ankles to the headboard, spreading their legs wide beside their ears. A delightful sight, two tanned bodies, two gaping cunts, two wrinkled arseholes. I could hardly wait, but turned to the boy who was on his knees beside the bed, head bowed in submission, or was it embarrassment? "Give me your hands". I lashed his thumbs together with twine and ordered him to kneel on the edge of the bed. His big toes got the same treatment and his arse quivered in expectation of yet another anal rape. But that wasn't my intention. Instead I drew his arms between his legs and tied the end of his thumb rope tightly around his ballsack and the rope from his toes to the head of his cock. "Now prepare them". I laid a red stripe across his buttocks and he began a painful crawl towards the two strained arses, whimpering when the rope cut into his sensitive skin. It took more than ten lashes to get him into position, frantically licking first his girlfriend's and then Marianne's pink slits. "The other holes too". I added another couple of stripes, then changed to whip the four upturned soles. The girls cried out and tried waving their feet, but to no avail, the merciless whip followed wherever they went, turning them a pleasant red. At last I roughly pushed the licking boy off the bed, making him scream in agony, and took his place, ramming my rock hard cock into Lua's creaming tunnel with one violent thrust.

It was heaven. The whimpering girls, the moaning boy, the hot holes. I kept changing between the four of them. Cunt, arse, cunt, arse, arse, cunt, hammering with all my strength, clinging to the burning feet for support, until I at last sat back and spurted over the violated arses. "That was the greatest fuck I've ever had!" I sank down on my heels, panting. "Thank you, Sir". Marianne's eyes had a glazed look. "But you didn't come?" "No, Sir". "You?" I looked at the brown girl, who mutely shook no. "Well, a kind master has to do something about that, hasn't he?" I got off the bed to cut the strings forcing the boy to crouch. "Up you go, clean them and then lick them, Marianne first. I'll whip your girlfriend until you've made her come". Still tied, he sent me a baleful glance, but manoeuvred himself into place and began licking away my sperm. When he'd swallowed it all, I hit across Lua's arsecheeks. "Get to work, boy!" He dived into the other girl's slit like a man possessed and soon had her shivering and whimpering towards an orgasm, spurred on by pitiful cries from her slave sister. I counted sixteen lashes before her body tensed and she screamed out her joy. "Next!" I didn't give her time to recover before my whip cut across her buttocks and the boy crabbed sideways to repeat the performance. This time he obviously knew what would get the girl over the edge in no time. I watched his lips close around the stiff clit and imagined his tongue flicking it. The petite girl got only four lashes before Lua almost burst my eardrums with a wild scream.

"Excellent work, slave". He sank back on his heels, working his tired tongue and looking hopefully at me. "You deserve a reward". I cut the strings at his thumbs and toes. "Release those and tidy up here, then use the bathroom and make ready to go to bed. Marianne comes with me". I went to my own bathroom to fill the tub and share it with the slavegirl, playing around, tickling her, until both of us were hoarse with laughter. Lua and Luan looked refreshed, but a bit tired when we joined them in the second bedroom. "On your back, boy, spread your arms and legs". He sighed wearily, but did as told and I chained him spreadeagle, but didn't stretch him hard. "Now you lick your good lover, girls, one side each, beginning with his toes". I sat down in an armchair to watch the giggling girls work slowly up the magnificent body, sucking and licking with their adept tongues. To my delight he turned out to be very ticklish and was soon writhing in his chains, gasping and begging to be spared, but to no avail. The girls enjoyed it just as much as I and did a great job, especially when they every now and then turned to his crotch to tease his cock and balls and make him beg for release, always stopping just short of granting it. At last he began pleading with me to make them stop, promising to do anything, asking for a whipping instead, any kind of torture, just not this. I let them continue for another five minutes, then ordered his girlfriend to mount him and Marianne to straddle his head.

"Now you lick that nice pussy, boy, but don't you dare let her come, and you ride him, Lua, but keep him on the edge". The sweet torture went on and I told the girls to kiss and caress each other while they were writhing on the edge of exploding. To be honest, I didn't expect them to be able to obey my orders, but they managed, sweating and whimpering with lust until I at last had enough and ordered Marianne off. "Very well. I'll leave you two to enjoy each other as long as you like, but Luan stays where he is. Good night". I'd hardly closed the door before a howl announced that the brown girl's love tunnel was being washed. In my own bedroom I made quiet love to the petite girl, missionary style, and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

She was still asleep when I early next morning opened my eyes, sorely tempted to make her repeat yesterday's performance, but she looked so cute that I refrained and instead stole out of bed without disturbing her. When I'd pissed away my morning hard-on, I peeked into the other bedroom to find the boy and his girl asleep, he still chained spreadeagle and she with her head resting on his chest. Their hard master didn't have the heart to wake them up either, but instead went docilely to the kitchen and made himself a pot of tea.

I was still enjoying the peace and fresh air of the morning when soft footsteps whispered across the planking and a naked brown body knelt upright beside my chair. I didn't acknowledge her presence and she silently refilled my cup. Another half hour went by. "Good morning". "Good morning, Sir. I'm sorry". "What for?" "We sleep and don't serve you, Sir". "Bad slaves!" "Yes, Sir". "Come here". I patted my thighs and she understood the message, gracefully draping herself across them for a spanking. The welts from last night's whipping were still clearly raised. "How are your feet?" Instead of answering she bent her knees to show me the striped soles. "Pauvre esclave!" "C'est ne pas mal, Mâitre". My hand slid over the tempting globes and I felt them quivering in expectance of what she was sure would follow, but instead of slapping her it went between her tightly clenched thighs. They opened for me and I fingered the pussy rings, then dug between the folds to find her clit. It was as if an electric jolt hit her and I felt it growing stiff. "Horny already?" She moaned and I pinched it gently. "Ooh!" I continued stroking it while putting cup and saucer on the floor with my other hand and pushing the low table in front of me. "Lie down on your back". With a sigh she rolled to bend backwards over the table, spreading her legs for me. "Delicious, ready to be eaten". And that's what I did. Bowed to slide my tongue up her already dripping wet slit until it could flick at the female penis. She moaned something I didn't understand, apparently in her native language, and I closed my lips around it. I've eaten out quite a few girls, but never one with a clit as big as this or with the self control my slavegirl to my surprise displayed. She trembled and moaned softly, but kept her position while I licked and sucked, savouring the sweet nectar running from her love tunnel. At last I raised my head for a moment, "You may come now", once again closing my lips around her. And did she come! Not with a scream like last night, but her body went stiff as a board and was then racked by a wave of spasms which seemed to go on forever while the stream of love juices turned into a torrent.

I sank back in the chair, looking in wonder at the brown body until the trembling eventually subsided and it went limp. She stayed there for long moments, breathing heavily, then with an effort rose on her weak legs and surprised me again by kissing me deeply. "Thank you, Sir, thank you". She broke the kiss and looked over my shoulder, smiling mischievously. I turned to see the other slavegirl on her knees behind my chair. "Envious?" I grinned to her. "No, Sir". "Not at all?" She smiled shyly. "Un petit peu, Mâitre". "Come here". I patted my thighs again. "And you may release your boyfriend". "Yes, Sir". With a quick kiss Lua sauntered off and her slave sister made to drape herself for a spanking. "No, straddle me". I hadn't bothered to dress and my cock was waving angrily. "Oui, Mâitre". She opened her legs to swallow me up. "Mmm, slowly, ever so slowly". Once again I had to admire a slavegirl when she alternatively rocked and moved up and down, flexing her cunt muscles, head thrown back and breathing heavily, but in perfect control. "Mmm, great!" I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sweet sensations, trying to prolong the pleasure, but at last had to give in and spurted into her with a contented sigh. When I opened my eyes she was smiling sweetly. "Bon, Mâitre?" "Parfait!" "Merci". She kissed me softly and rose, extricating herself. "But you didn't come!" "You didn't say I could, Sir" "Most unkind of me, but what do we do about it?" "I can play with myself, Sir". "You could, but deserve better". The brown slavegirl had come back with her lover. "Start breakfast, Luan, for all of us, and you eat out Marianne, Lua. Your turn". "Yes, Sir". The boy left and the dripping girl lay down of the floor, careful to give me an unimpeded view of her slave sister first lapping up what I'd deposited in her and then using her tongue to reduce her to a writhing mass of shivering flesh, cruelly keeping her on the edge for an eternity before finishing her off. "Such a beautiful morning". I rose. "But we've better get you two horny sluts cleaned up".

When we came back from a long hot bath, the table was laid for an excellent tropic breakfast. Tea and coffee, freshly pressed juice, thinly sliced toast, home made marmalade and lots of fruit. My slaves were getting the point. I wanted meals to be pleasant and relaxed, so once again we chatted happily for an hour until I told Luan to put on his skirt and turn out the rickshaw, while the girls were sent for some lengths of rope and twine. "You two good little maids have work to do, but I think we should make life a bit more interesting for you". I carefully wrapped rope around the base of Lua's ample breasts, cinching it tight enough to ensure that it stayed in place and made the mammaries swell like ripe fruit, but not too painfully, and crouched down in front of her, dragging the free ends of the ropes with me. She bent at the waist and watched me tie them to her big toes. "There!" I rose again to slide my hand down her jutting buttocks. "Nice of you to present your finest asset". "Thank you, Sir". She sent me a hurt look. "Now clear that table". I chuckled and swatted her rump to send her waddling across the floor. "And now you". I looked at the petite girl. "Spread your legs". This time I ran short lengths of twine between pussy rings and big toes, forcing her to either squat or kneel. A slap sent her crawling towards the kitchen.

Luan suggested that we followed the path further up the mountain to get an even better overall view of the island. This time I chained him to the poles and used the whip liberally, not that is was necessary, my human pony ran effortlessly, but because it was fun. The whip wasn't easy to handle, but I trained hard to get the knack of it and was quite pleased with myself when I eventually was able to touch just the very tip of it precisely where I wanted on the brown back in front of me. His arse would have been an even better target, but he looked so sexy in the skirt that I let him keep it. The path wound its way up the mountainside through undergrowth so dense that even the sea was hidden until we after about twenty minutes reached a clearing almost at the very top of the mountain. From here the view was breathtaking. Luan knelt and lowered the poles to let me descend. "Tired?" He shook no, wasn't even breathing hard. "But thirsty?" "A little, Sir". Even that early the vantage point was ready to receive visitors. Two round café tables, shaded by parasols, were placed at the railing for the convenience of guests who wanted to relax with a drink. A waitress, equipped with a tray like the human tables of the ship's banquet, was ready to serve from an outdoor kitchen unit, but there were no chairs, they weren't necessary. Two naked slaveboys were on all fours beside each table, thumbs and big toes in rigid cuffs, offering their backs as stools. A sixth, female, slave was half hidden behind some bushes, kneeling with her chained feet on either side of a short pole, hands cuffed behind it and with her collar locked to its top. She had long blonde hair and looked quite lovely, but there seemed to be no obvious reason for placing her there. I ordered a café au lait and a bottle of water. The coffee was good and even if my human seat wasn't especially comfortable I enjoyed the panorama. The serving slavegirl knelt by my chained draught animal and held the water bottle to his lips. He drank thirstily, nodding his thanks and the girl smiled back timidly.

Apparently I wasn't the only early riser. My cup was only half empty when I heard someone coming up the path and a moment later two naked slaves emerged, followed by one of the married couples. They were the eldest among us, close to fifty I guessed, but obviously took care to keep in shape. Like now when they came jogging leisurely, hardly out of breath, dressed in designer shorts and tops and the latest in trainers. They called a friendly 'Good morning', ordered ice tea and went through a routine of stretching exercises before sitting down at the next table. I remembered that their special interest was Japanese rope bondage and the slaves exhibited their expertise. They'd been lucky when drawing lots to choose personal slaves and acquired two Asians, a tiny girl, who could very well be Japanese, and a muscular young man, who looked half Chinese and half Malay. Their upper bodies were tightly harnessed in an intricate web of coarse rope, the girl's carefully wrapped around the base of her small tits to present them in a most appetising manner. The boy's thick, stubby cock and fairly small ballsack were similarly wrapped for display before the end of the rope was run through the crack of his arse to his arms, bound high behind his back with wrists lashed to elbows. The girl sported another crotchrope, apparently cutting deeply into her slit and with a knot strategically placed on top of her clit. When she turned her back to me I was surprised to see how flexible she seemed to be. Her hands were tied back to back and drawn so high between her shoulder blades that her fingers actually touched her collar.

It couldn't be very comfortable, but the inscrutable Oriental faces revealed nothing, when the slaves with some difficulty dropped to their knees beside their master and mistress. She impatiently told the waitress to fetch more of the ice tea she'd just served and feed it to them. The man caught me looking. "Admiring the karada?" "That's what it's called, that tie?" "Sure, great inventors, the Japanese. It's actually for torturing a prisoner, you can tighten the ropes little by little until it becomes extremely painful. If you go far enough you'll crack their arms and even their ribs". He patted the girl's head. "But we're not that nasty, just think it looks pretty. Don't you agree?" "Definitely. Perhaps you'd be good enough to teach me?" "Pleasure. Just come around one of these days and I'll show you how to use it for more practical purposes too". I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "Yeah, once you've learned how to make a proper harness, you can hang her by it from a beam and make it complete". "Complete how?" "There's still her legs. Once she's dangling you bend them up with her feet at her bum and wrap them good. Pretty little package and if placed right you get a great fuck out of her. Fantastic tight I tell you, and you can do the same with a boy, only you tie his knees to his waist rope. Yeah, you definitely must see the two of them hanging side by side all ready for you to plunge in". "Thanks, I'll be looking forward to it". His wife downed her glass of tea and looked around. "I need...Oh, there it is! Excuse me for a moment". Wondering what she meant I watched her strolling to the girl tied to the pole, unceremoniously haul down her shorts and panties and say something to make her crane her head back, resting it on top of the pole. The woman straddled it, placing her cunt over the open mouth. I quickly looked away, embarrassed. So that's what she was! A portable loo.

I'd finished the coffee and took my leave, accepting an invitation to have my first lesson that afternoon. Running downhill might be less strenuous than hauling the rickshaw up the mountain, but clearly required more skill or I'd end up kissing the dirt. Luan hadn't lied about his long experience as a coolie, so we drove down as smoothly as we'd come up, soon passing other cabins. I asked if he knew where my young friend and his father stayed. Shortly after he stopped outside their bungalow. The old man was on the porch, still at breakfast, and called me to come right up. This time I released my slave and told him to take a break in the shade. My host offered a hand without getting up from his chair and a closer look revealed why. The Arab slaveboy was chained on his knees under the table, gently sucking his master's cock. "Well risen, I see, but Sonny's still asleep?" "Not at all, not at all. He's taken that girl of his round the back for some riding lessons, has some trouble using her arse. Why don't you take a look while my boy gets you a cup of coffee?" "Thank you, I've just had one, but my slave could use some water, I think". "OK". I strolled towards the backyard. "Come on, you can do better than that!" Just as I was rounding the corner came the sound of a slap followed by a squeal. The blonde girl was astride a sawhorse, hands behind her back and thumbs lashed together with twine. "Up and down, come on!" Her young master hit her right nipple with a riding crop. "Augh!" She screamed and straightened her legs, rising on tiptoe, a rather painful exercise since her big toes were tied like her thumbs. "And down again, all the way". Her shivering body was lowered until the sharp edge of the horse sawed into her red and puffy cunt lips. "That's right, up and down, up and down, go on!" She rose again on trembling legs and this time I caught a glimpse of the black rubber dildo between her arsecheeks. "Already hard at work so early in the day?" The boy swung round to face me. "Hi! Don't know if this is work or pleasure". He grinned. "I was actually referring to the girl". "That's for her own good. She's still howling and complaining whenever I as much as touch her back door. And I'm a kind master. It'll be hell for her when I leave and she has to serve any number of others unless she gets used to it. I know from my sister that this is the best way to learn. She used to take a ride every day after dinner while we were watching the news". "Tied like that?" "Sure, hurts the toes a bit, but it's great for developing strong thighs, something a man really appreciates. That's what my brother in law tells me". He grinned again. The poor girl was whimpering, but continued fucking herself. "Yep, one hour every morning should do it, until she can take this". He showed me a monster of a dildo, studded with small hard knobs. "Now don't you block her out that much. It'll spoil the fun for some of us". He looked thoughtfully at the rubber thing. "Yeah, perhaps you're right. Let's see how it goes, so far she's on the smallest we have. Now don't you dare stop, girl. I want to hear these bells and I'm going to check on you". "No, Sir", she gasped and once again rose on her aching toes. He clipped his sister's bells to her nipple rings and followed me back to the porch.

"How is he?" I nodded towards the naked boy. "Got a great arsehole, hot and smooth, and knows how to pump you, but not as well as my own slave". "Your wife?" "Precisely. She may be a bit loose back there, but she sure knows how to compensate for it. But he has another great asset. Show us". "Yes, Sir". The boy dropped down on his stomach, raising his long-toed feet for inspection. The soles were clearly marked by welts, the insteps even blistered. "I'm not that much of a foot man, my slave unfortunately has very thin hide there, which splits easily. Luckily her daughter hasn't inherited that weakness, so I do know how to use a foot cane, but this boy is simple outstanding. I gave him a bastinado last night, went on for about an hour, and he just jumped around like nothing had happened when it was over. Fantastic! I mean, it's not that they look especially leathery". "I've read that foot whipping, falaka they call it, is quite common in Arab countries. They use it school, instead of a spanking like us. Isn't that right, boy?" "Yes, Sir". He rose to his knees, nodding. "It is also very shameful for us to show the soles of feet". "So you've been caned there before?" "Oh, yes, Sir, many times, I was always a very naughty boy". "Since when?" "I think five years, Sir". "That young! How about the girls?" "I did not see, but my sister tell that they has falaka also. Big shame". He grinned. "But not always unpleasant?" "For boys not, Sir. We, how do you say, has competition? We are naughty, teacher is mad and he hit us and we show we are very strong boys, don't cry". "I bet you do, and the girls?" "I think is same and my sister tell that falaka make her warm between legs. She hope that husband will give her much falaka when she is marry". "Pity she's not here", his master remarked. The boy looked shocked. "But she can not, Sir! Arab girls is always virgin until marry". "I know, and that's the pity. I've always wanted to try one of those doe eyed beauties".

I was eager to continue the tour and took my leave, seating myself and lashing at the bare back in front of me. We passed other cottages, where the occupants were enjoying their breakfast on the porch with their slaves in close attendance, some of them very close, working on a blowjob. The foot guy's girl was of course on her back under the table, masturbating him with her tied feet. Another male guest had his girl lashed to a convenient low table, his cock buried in her arse and his breakfast neatly arranged on her back, while one of the single women had hung her boy spreadeagle from the ceiling and was eating her bacon and eggs directly from his stomach. He didn't seem to like it. On other porches the slaves were just stored, that is dangling from the ceiling by their wrist or ankle restraints or, more innovative, their thumbs or toes. One girl was whimpering quite loudly, perhaps because she was hung up by her roped titties. Don't know why. She could reach the floor with her toes. Ought to be gagged, but perhaps her master liked the noise.

We passed some slaveboys at rickshaw training, guided by liberal doses of lashes from buggy whips. I praised myself lucky to have my own coolie and told him to run for the lagoon. The beach was almost deserted at this early hour, only a couple of slaves were raking the sand smooth. As I'd seen in the videos, pegs were driven into the ground and chains hung from branches of the trees bordering the beach for the convenience of guests who wanted to store their slaves safely while enjoying a swim. I contemplated hanging up my own slave, but didn't have the heart when I saw him looking longingly at the clear blue water and instead undressed before releasing him. "Beat me to the far side of the reef", I called while running the few yards to the shore and throwing myself into the water. I'm a pretty good swimmer, but of course he beat me, easily and with several lengths, even if I cheated by taking him by surprise and he had to shed his skirt.

"Hmm", I remarked, hauling myself up to sit on the reef beside him, "Not very wise, are you, showing off like that?" He grinned hugely. "You ordered me to beat you, Sir". "You bet 'I' will". "Yes, Sir". He was still grinning. "OK, let's see how good you are like this". I quickly clipped his ankle restraints together and jumped back to swim for the beach. Damn, he beat me again, flashing by in a fast crawl, literally hauling himself through the water at a fantastic speed, trailing his useless legs behind him. After that, I gave up, released him and told him to enjoy himself. Which he sure did, taking four laps along the perimeter of the lagoon. Crawl, backstroke, butterfly and a curious sort of freestyle I'd never seen before. When we eventually got up again, one of the slaves dropped his rake to stand ready with a large towel for me. Luan shook himself and at my nod took a run along the beach to get dry. The serving slave asked if I wanted something to drink, indicating a bar, but I declined when Luan came back. "Great swimmer, huh?" I gave him a hard look. "Yes, Sir. Where I come from, children can swim before they walk". "Girls too?" "Yes, Sir". "So Lua is as good as you?" "Almost, Sir". "Hmm, perhaps we should arrange a competition. Loser gets whipped by the winner". "Yes, Sir". He grinned and patted his arse. I couldn't help laughing and strolled towards the rickshaw. He ran past to stand waiting, bent over and touched his toes. "You want to beat me now, Sir?" I gave him a couple of hard slaps. "Later, we've better get back for lunch". "Yes, Sir". He donned his skirt and offered the shackles, but I shook my head and seated myself. "Take it easy on the way back". "Yes, Sir". He flashed a smile over his shoulder and ran up the steep path at his usual speed. 'Well, well, eager to get home, are we, or perhaps hoping to get the girls a break?' I grinned to myself. 'Fat chance, boy'.

I was actually looking forward to a bit of fun, but changed my mind when I found the cottage in perfect order and the table laid for lunch. The girls really had done a great job, but not without costs. Lua's tits were red and swollen and Marianne's pussy lips seemed to have grown at least an inch. They did deserve a break, so I limited myself to ramming a plug up each of the two narrow back passages and clipping some not too heavy weights to their nipple rings. The brown girl did whimper a bit, but not loudly, so we spent another couple of pleasant hours over the delicious lunch. Luan went to and fro, serving and clearing away, hovering between grinning and sending pitying glances at the girls, who seemed to have some trouble sitting quietly on the chairs. Once I caught Lua sticking out her tongue at him. "Looking for something to lick?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "No, Sir". "Hmm. Are you sure? I don't want you suffering. Bend over the table in front of her, boy, and drape your skirt on your back". He sent his girlfriend a dark look and placed himself as ordered. "Now put your hands behind your neck and lick his arsehole until he comes, girl". I emptied the wine bottle into my glass. "If he hasn't come before I've finished my wine, you'll whip his dick and balls twenty times". She sent me a frightened look and dived between his cheeks. "Before he gives your pussy the same treatment". Her nosed parted the firm globes and he jumped when her adept tongue went to work. I chatted amiably with the other girl, sipping the wine, amused by the sounds of slurping, and grinning when Lua quickly raised her face to dart a frightened glance towards the dwindling contents of the glass, but took my time and didn't drain it until a bellow from the boy announced that the floorboards beneath him now sported a pool of sperm.

Marianne and I clapped our hands when the brown girl wearily sank down on her chair, only to jump up again with a shriek. This time she actually dared sticking out her tongue at me. "Uh, huh. Naughty, naughty slavegirl". I frowned angrily and ordered her into the bedroom, put alligator clips on her nipples and pussy lips and told her to lie down on the bed, on her stomach, then tied her spreadeagle, stretching the lithe body as hard as I could without dislocating her joints. Her butt plug was hauled out, only to be replaced by a double dildo, forced into the narrow passage until only a third of the rubber cylinder was sticking out. She moaned and whimpered, and shrieked when I ordered Marianne to mount the fake cock and then tied her loosely on top of the spread girl. "Now enjoy yourself, my dear. You have my permission to come as often as you want". She didn't have to be told twice, but began humping her love toy vigorously, while the culprit under her cried out and began pleading for mercy. I settled down to watch the show. The French girl lasted all of two minutes before she with a high pitched scream threw back her head and came violently. "Excellent! Again", I encouraged. She was shivering all over her lovely body, but dutifully began moving her hips, much to the chagrin of her partner. This time it took more than five minutes before soft moaning announced that she'd come again. I clapped my hands without comment, waiting to see what she would do, and darn if her buttocks weren't moving again. By then Lua had stopped pleading and was just crying helplessly. He boyfriend was watching from his knees beside my chair, looking concerned and occasionally stealing a glance at me. Ten minutes later Marianne sighed and went limp. I rose. "You stay there until I come back and still have my permission to come". With that I beckoned to Luan and we went out to the rickshaw. He hauled me across the island to the rope experts' cabin, where I released him. "I don't really need you right now. Run off to the cabin and come back here in two hours to fetch me". He sent me a smile, "Yes, Sir", and turned. "You can release the girls, Lua's clips too, and if she's up to it, you may fuck her, gently". His smile broadened. "Sir, yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". I watched him sprinting off.

The lesson was very interesting, to say the least, but I soon realised that I would need more than one to learn how to weave the intricate web and place the knots in the right places to form a correct shibari or karada. The slavegirl, who actually turned out to be Japanese, was incredibly flexible and agile, with a high tolerance for pain. Not even a whimper escaped her when the ropes cut into her tender flesh or her limbs were bent in awkward and painful angles. Her stature was very similar to my little French girl's and I had no trouble imagining Marianne in a rope harness. My kind teachers took obvious pleasure from introducing me to one of their favourite pastimes and we spent a pleasant couple of hours in their backyard. As an extra benefit I learned how to use the beam and hoists. Tying up the slaves was fine, but the fun was greatly enhanced when the bound bodies were hauled up to sway in mid-air. So we had them dangling upside down or hanging horizontal, completely encased in the tight ropes, unable to move much more than a finger or a toe. The strong Malaysian boy even spent a very uncomfortable time strung up by his big toes, still without complaint. I made a mental note of testing my own slaveboy in the same way. The patient boy got his reward, though, when I as promised was shown how to put a balltied girl to practical use. Wrapped in rope, her fingers touching the back of her neck and knees drawn up to her chin, she was hanging under the beam with the still bound boy stretched out below her. My hostess stroke him hard and held the thick pole ready when her husband carefully lowered the girl until it disappeared into her tight hole. "Great fuck for a lazy master". He grinned while slowly hauling on and slacking the pulley rope. "You can move the hoist to one of the hooks over your bed and lie there comfortably while your slaveboy does all the work".

When the final show was over, the slaves were allowed to come, something that forced the first sounds from them when the boy managed to arch his body and with a bellow shoot his seed into the narrow tunnel to send the girl over the edge, screaming shrilly, we retired to the front porch with a glass of wine. The master nodded kindly to the released slaves, whose hide bore witness of the afternoon's ordeal. "Good work. You deserve a glass and a rest. We won't play any more tonight". Luan was waiting by the rickshaw, looking very smug, so I guessed that his girlfriend had been kind, or perhaps in need.

She did look satisfied when we returned, but was walking a bit bowlegged so I teasingly asked if she'd enjoyed the dildo. "No Sir, it hurt, and Luan is soo big". Now it was his turn to receive an angry look from his master. "Did you dare fuck her arse?" "I ask, Sir", she hastily told me. "Perhaps, but he was expressly told to be gentle. I don't want my slavegirls spoiled. Fetch a whip". She protested feebly, repeating that it was her fault, but I cut her sort with a whispered command, which made her blanche. Luan came back with a short whip and I restrained him on his knees, arse high. He took the ten stinging lashes stoically, but gasped in horror when I told him to look up. Lua was back, with the double dildo strapped to her waist, one end buried in her pussy. "That's right, boy, your turn". She looked pleadingly at me. "Ram it in, girl!" "I lick first, Sir?" Her voice was quavering. "No". She lined up behind the brown arse and opened the cheeks, tentatively touching the rubber rod to the puckered hole. "Ram it in, I said, all the way. Now!" I roared and lashed out at her buttocks to send her forward. Both of them cried out in pain when the dildo buried itself in the almost virgin hole and at the same time was forced even deeper into Lua's vagina. "Fun, is it?" I gave the boy a rap across his shoulder blades. "No, Sir", he moaned. "Perhaps you'll remember to obey my orders in the future". "Yes, Sir". He gasped when the intruder was withdrawn and then rammed up again. "I should hope so. OK, you can stop that Lua. I don't want you spoiled".

It was three very subdued slaves, who as silently and unobtrusively as possible crept around making preparations for dinner, while I busied myself at the computer, checking my e-mail and accounts. Lua served me a pre dinner glass and knelt beside my chair, timidly kissing my shoes, sighing heavily when she was ignored. When finally called to dinner I found the table laid for four, as ordered, but none of them made any move to sit down when I'd seated myself. A very grave Marianne came out to serve the first course and Lua's hands were shaking when she tried to pour my wine. I grabbed the bottle and served myself, then looked up, frowning. "What are your orders about dinner?" "We eat together here, Sir", Luan answered. "Well, are you disobeying me again or have you suddenly caught a fancy for buffet suppers?" "No, Sir". He gestured to his girlfriend and they sat down while Marianne fetched their plates. I leaned over to serve Lua a glass of wine, then handed the bottle to Luan. We ate a few forkfuls of the quail salad in silence. "Cat got your tongue?" I saluted the petite girl. "This is delicious". "Merci, Mâitre". She smiled timidly. "Well prepared, just like you'll be some day soon". I grinned and described the new way of fucking I'd learned about. Her eyes lit up. "Sounds like great fun, Sir". "For me". "Moi aussi, Mâitre". She looked pointedly at Lua. ""Nah, I think she'll be too heavy". "I can hold her, Sir". Luan grinned hugely and we discussed the possibilities while the first course disappeared, then turned to other subjects. The slaves relaxed when they understood that I wasn't really mad at them and the friendly atmosphere was restored.

Over coffee we discussed films until I with a yawn said that I was going to bed. "With me or Marianne, Sir?" Lua's eyes were sparkling again. "Or both of us?" I frowned at her. "Trying to wear out your master are you?" "No, Sir, please him". "Not tonight. The two of you can clear away and then spend the evening in your room, doing whatever you like. Watch a movie, perhaps. That's what we'll do". I gave Marianne my hand and went to the bathroom. After washing and playing with each other in the tub, we flopped down on my bed and flicked through the TV channels until I actually found a film I'd like to watch. Halfway through it Marianne fetched a bottle of wine and we shared it, cuddling on the soft pillows. 'Almost like an old married couple', I thought, 'Romance after only three days together? Going soft are you, old boy?'

I must have been, because I don't remember any more until I woke up, spooned up to the supple body of my sleeping slavegirl, my erect member pressed into the crack of her arse. I was sorely tempted to wake her up, this time by entering her back passage, but once again I relented and stole out of bed to piss and make myself a pot of tea. I was in the kitchen when Luan came padding in, surprised to see me. "Morning. Some lazy girls we have around here, what?" He grinned. "Yes, Sir, or tired". "Perhaps". I left the tea making to him and went out to the porch, where he served me a few minutes later. "But nevertheless, I need some relief". I looked at my morning hard-on. "Yes, Sir. Luan or Marianne?" "You". He gulped visibly, but dropped to his knees and took me into his mouth. This time I let him finish, hardly had any other choice, horny as I was, and came violently within seconds. He gagged, but managed to swallow my load, licked me clean and sank back on his heels, grimacing and working his tongue. I did understand his disgust, but slaves don't resent their master's gifts. "My feet are hot, cool them". He looked uncertainly at me. "With your tongue, slaveboy". He swallowed hard again before bending low to take up the humiliating task. I relaxed in my chair, sipping the tea and enjoying the tongue-bath. The lad really did a good job, I had to admit, licking up and down the tops of my feet, raising them gently to wash the soles and even sucking on each of my toes. When he at last let the right big toe slip from his mouth and sat back again, hanging his head, I took pity on him. "Want a cup of tea?" "Yes, Sir", he mumbled. "Fetch a cup, then".

We were chatting quite amiably about his plans for a future education when his girlfriend eventually decided to wake up and present herself. "Very naughty slavegirl", I scolded when she knelt at my feet, "Oversleeping and neglecting your master". "I'm sorry, Sir". She looked up, grinning mischievously. "Luan didn't wake me". "So you're blaming him for the punishment you're about to receive?" She glanced at him. "I, eh, no, Sir". "I heard differently, fetch a cane". "Yes, Sir". When she'd disappeared inside, I turned to him. "Ten with the cane. You or she?" "Me, Sir". He didn't hesitate. "So be it. Get into position". The girl came back to find her boyfriend standing bent over, touching his toes. "You give him ten, and hard". She sent me a dismayed look, trying to plead with her eyes, but I just stared impassively back until she with a heavy sigh raised the cane and brought it sharply down upon the brown globes. A red line appeared to prove that she hadn't held back, quickly followed by a further nine. "Good work. Now start breakfast, but wake up the other lazy girl first". "Yes, Sir". She disappeared hastily, but with an apologising look over her shoulder to the boy who was rubbing his flaming buttocks. "Got practise, hasn't she?" "Yes, Sir". He grinned hugely. I was still laughing when Marianne came stumbling out, rubbing her eyes. "Sit down, Luan, and give my other naughty slavegirl a good spanking". "Yes, Sir". He lowered himself on a chair, somewhat gingerly, and the naked girl obediently draped herself across his knees. I signalled 'ten' and his hand came down on her pert little bottom with a resounding smack, making her jump and kick her legs. A most delightful scene, to see her writhing and kicking wildly, emitting little cries of protest, almost better than delivering the spanks myself. When it was over and she was rubbing her behind, sobbing quietly, I grinned at her. "Strong arm, what?" She nodded mutely, sending me a hurt look. "Breakfast on the table in ten minutes. One stroke of the cane for every minute it's late". She fled to the kitchen.

I told Luan to fetch a couple of cushions and we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, even if two of the participants seemed a little restless in spite of the protection provided for their tender behinds. At last I drained my cup. "Well, time for some fun and games. Clear away, girls, and you make the rickshaw ready. Mount a couple of chains on the tailboard". Chuckling to myself I watched them scurry around, exchanging troubled looks. When we were ready, I cuffed the still naked girls' hands in front and hooked them on the chains, secured Luan to the poles and lashed at his bare buttocks. "To the beach". He set out at a brisk trot, dragging the two slavegirls with us. It was downhill so they shouldn't have any trouble keeping pace and Lua ran effortlessly, even if her ample breasts were flapping wildly in a most enchanting way. Marianne on the other hand was stumbling along, evidently in pain. I cursed myself for forgetting that she unlike the other two wasn't used to going barefoot on rough ground and called Luan to slow down to a walk. The petite girl sent me a grateful smile and fell in step with her slave sister, while I leaned back, feeling like a Roman emperor in his triumphal carriage, dragging along the spoils of war.

Like yesterday, the beach was deserted except for the raking slaves. I directed Luan to a secluded spot I'd noticed the previous morning, a small clearing almost surrounded by bushes at the edge of the forest, and released the slaves. Cushioned sun-beds and deckchairs, shaded by parasols, were provided for guests, and sets of pegs and hanging shackles for slaves. "Sure looks good", I confirmed teasingly, when the girls were looking longingly at the blue lagoon, "But first things first. Lie down there". I nodded to Lua, indicating the pegs. She sighed deeply and placed herself, spreading her arms and legs to be bound. I secured her spreadeagle and ordered Marianne on top of her, stretching her likewise and forcing their naked bodies tightly together. "Now don't go away". I slapped the perky little bottom on top and gestured my slaveboy to follow. The water was cool and refreshing and we spent the best part of an hour swimming. One of the serving slaves dried me and asked if I'd like something to drink. I sent Luan with him to fetch coffee for four and went up to our spot. "Hi girls, comfy are you?" I moved a chair over so I could rest my feet on Marianne's bare back. "No, Sir". "No? The mattress isn't soft enough for you?" I wriggled my foot in between the supple bodies. "Seems soft enough to me". "Yes, Sir, but we'd like a swim". "Ah! But I think that's much too dangerous for little girls like you". "I'm a very good swimmer, Sir". "You are?" "Yes, Sir". "Hmm. What about you, Lua?" "I swim like a fish, Sir". "Is that true?" I looked up at her boyfriend, who'd returned with a tray. He grinned. "A very slow fish, Sir". The bound girl spluttered indignantly. "I swim better than him, Sir, much better". "Is that so?" Luan shook his head. "Very well. A competition will decide that. The winner sleeps with me tonight, the loser is caged in the shed". His grin faltered very quickly. 'Something of a dilemma, eh, boy?' I thought. "You may untie them".

The girls stretched their cramped limbs and Marianne sat down to enjoy her coffee, but Lua continued her exercises. "Warming up to win, are you?" I grinned. "No need, Luan will let you win anyway. He won't want to sleep with me". He was staring fixedly at the ground. "So perhaps I should change the rules. Winner sleeps with Marianne, loser with me". His head flew up and he stared at me, then smiled to the petite girl, who smiled shyly back. His girlfriend looked furious. 'Uh hu! We'll see about that', I thought and emptied my cup. "Very well, out to the reef and back again". We got up and walked towards the lagoon. I stopped about twenty yards from the shore with the two brown bodies on either side of me. "Ready!" They nodded and I slapped their rumps simultaneously to send them sprinting for the water. The girl reached it a split second before her competitor to gain a few yards on him when they began crawling across the lagoon. She really was a fantastic swimmer, her lithe body sliding through the water as elegantly as a dolphin to reach the far side and turn a couple of seconds before Luan, but the boy proved his greater strength on the way back. He gained on her, managed to overtake and got out of the water a second before her to throw himself at my feet, gasping for breath. "OK, you win", I conceded. "No, Sir, I won", Lua claimed, with a shit eating grin.

I told Luan to take Marianne up in the rickshaw to whip up some lunch, while I took a swim with Lua. Afterwards I sent her to fetch a glass of wine at the bar. When she returned, I told her to kneel between my legs, with her back to me, clipped her ankle and wrist restraints together and relaxed in my chair, idly caressing her tits, offering her a sip of wine every now and then, dreaming about the coming night. Her nipples swelled and turned rock hard. She sighed deeply. Perhaps she was dreaming as well. Rather dreading, though, after all she knew me mostly as a fairly brutal lover, except for my eating her out that morning.

Lunch was as I'd ordered, a delicious selection of titbits. Luan got on all fours with a tray on his back to serve as a table and I chained Marianne like her slave sister on the other side of my chair, then proceeded to fingerfeed them and myself, let them sip from my glass, while wiping my sticky fingers on their tits. It was incredibly intimate and erotic, yet still a master playing with his humiliated and helpless slaves.

We spent all day at the beach, enjoying ourselves, slaves as well as master, with no further fun and games. Three days as a master and I was already growing soft, or was it tired of it? Neither, or perhaps softening a bit, but I'd realised that you can't be cruel all the time, at least I can't. And I'd struck gold again, winning three genuine submissives, who could handle being abused and humiliated one moment and relaxing in the company of their tormentor the next. We stayed in our secluded spot, enjoying the sun, occasionally going for a swim, talking and joking like longtime friends. They could handle that too, my slaves, behaving naturally, yet still keeping the respectful distance necessary in our very special relationship. They were perfect, simply perfect.

When it was time for bed, I played my last little evil game of the day. Luan had been gazing hungrily at Marianne, obviously looking forward to sample her lithe body, so different from his girlfriend's more voluptuous curves. "Sleep with, I said, not fuck", I grinned, when chaining the two of them stretched out on the bed side by side and face down without any chance of as much as touching each other. "Sleep well". I eased two well lubricated vibrating plugs into their arseholes, turned them on at the lowest setting and the light off, then left with a giggling Lua, followed by her boyfriend's frustrated groans, carefully keeping the doors open, so he could listen to her screams of passion when I once again ate her out, forcing three orgasms out of her before climbing on top and fuck her to yet another two peaks.

She feel asleep as soon as I'd spurted into her steaming hole and didn't stir when I slipped out, turned her and spooned up to her back. 'Shit, but she's a great fuck', I thought and hugged the warm body, reaching round to cup a hand around a firm tit, 'Have to do this more often'. I grinned to myself. 'Well, you can do it every day, old boy, she's yours'. Drifting off to sleep my last conscious thought was: 'Yeah, great, so what is it you are missing, then?'

Part five

That's more or less how I spent my time on Treasure Island. Not quite what I'd expected. Less slave whopping, but more fun. Not that I didn't whip them, but mostly as a punishment, sometimes just at my whim or in bed, though, or if they actually asked for it and, hard as it is to believe, that happened. Well, I knew about the two lovers, how they liked warming up with a cane before fucking and as they couldn't do anything now without my permission, they had to ask. I allowed them to fuck whenever they slept together in the second bedroom, but reserved the warming up to myself. And, boy, was it fun when the two horny guys came up to me at bedtime, hand in hand, asking for a caning and then knelt side by side on their bed, brown arses high. It felt good to stand there, making them squirm in anticipation, tapping their globes lightly and then suddenly bring down the cane, hard.

Of course it wasn't every day and neither were they allowed to sleep together every night. I did take Lua to bed, eating out her pussy was so delicious, and Luan didn't avoid the same fate. I'm not gay, not even bisexual, really, but did enjoy fucking this towering hunk. Perhaps it was the rush of power I enjoyed most, yet using his narrow hole gave me fantastic orgasms. He didn't like it one little bit, though, so I don't think I fucked him more than about a thirty times and he took it well. What he really hated was when I ordered one of the girls to use the double dildo on him. That was fun, especially when he was tied up on the bed, legs up beside his ears and the petite girl crawled on him. He looked so angry and miserable. It wasn't much better when I told his girlfriend to fuck him and gave him a good hiding first, but I guess he got a kick out of it anyway, because she made him spurt.

The wildest thing we did was when I about half a dozen times had all three of them trussed up kneeling on the edge of the bed, side by side, or rather arse by arse, and I, after a good warming up with the cane, went from hole to hole, sampling their charms. Yeah! Mostly I used Marianne. She slept in my bed five nights out of seven. I did treat her roughly at times, tied her up and hammered her with all my strength, caned her, not least her dainty little feet, just like that first night on the ship, but most often we didn't fuck, we made love, passionately, she was a firebrand in bed, but tenderly and to our mutual satisfaction. Love, yeah, that's what I was falling in and it was scaring the shit out of me. There was no future in it. I didn't really know what she felt, but how could a girl I'd kept as a slave, perhaps not entirely against her will, she had after all only herself to blame, but anyway a girl I'd humiliated, hurt, abused, raped, ever feel anything but hate and contempt for me?

We did play during the day, but most of the time was spent relaxing, enjoying the sun, swimming, reading, watching TV, surfing the net. And that wasn't just for me, the master. When not working or serving me, they could do as they liked and I think they enjoyed our meals just as much as I did.

Play, that was mostly pure bondage. My teachers, the rope experts, really got me hooked on it and I learned a lot from them. I told you at the beginning of this story that I am a sadist and I guess that I proved it to my slaves the first few days, but you know, torturing people isn't fun. Not my kind of fun. I thought it was, dreamt about making a girl scream her head off while I striped her helpless body. OK, it is fun to make them scream a bit, makes the fucking damn hot, but just hitting someone, that's boring. No, real bdsm-fun, that's to tie someone up. Slowly, meticulously, intricately spinning them into a web of rope, forcing their bodies into impossible positions. Listen to their moaning, watch them straining against the bonds, feel how they grow hot and sweaty.

Oh, yes, the girls did spend quite some time in a rope harness. One of my favourites was fairly simple, just a web decorating their torsos, not tight enough to hurt or restrict their movement, but it did make them present their delicate mounds up and out in a most alluring way. The most interesting feature was the crotch rope. I grew quite adept in placing it just right and tying a knot precisely on their clits. Boy, was it fun watching them prancing around in a constant state of arousal. Just imagine one of them on her knees, washing the floor and then suddenly go rigid, closing her eyes and shuddering through a little orgasm. Beautiful! And that trick with having a trussed up girl dangling over you, raised and lowered by a slave, that's one of the best ways of fucking I know of, if you want it kinky, that is.

We did some tougher stuff too. The gear in the backyard offered great opportunities for tying up slaves and suspending them in interesting positions. Vertical, horizontal, two and two together, from their wrists, ankles, with sticks under their armpits, behind their knees, under their stomachs. Yep, and the things you could do to them when hanging like that. Ever tried suspending two girls back to back, a stick behind their knees and lashed tightly together? If not, do try. You sit down on a chair, have their suspension adjusted so their mouths are lined up with your cock and then tell them to go to town. First one hot mouth and then you spin them around to feel another, spin again and so forth. It's quite painful to hang like that, so they'll be gasping and moaning a lot. Just imagine how that feels. Soft lips sucking, an adept tongue caressing your boner and hot breath blowing around you.

Of course you can do other interesting things to slaves when they're hanging in the ropes. Like whipping and caning or fucking them. A balltied girl suspended horizontally, whether it's face up or down, has a fantastic tight pussy, not to mention her other hole, and not least right after a good caning of her arse or feet, or his for that matter. I did it with Luan as well. If you make another slave kneel below and lick away on the hole you're not using it's even hotter. Or cock. One of the best sessions of that kind was with my slaveboy suspended face down, with a thoroughly striped arse and his cock in his girlfriend's mouth. He was tougher than the girls, but I did get some grunts out of him when caning his broad feet before finally entering him. He most certainly didn't like that, but we still came together.

We did play a bit with the other gear out back. I was kind enough to allow the girls catching a good tan, stretched well and good between the pegs, with vibrating dildos in their nether orifices. After a couple of hours of almost continuous orgasms, they did appear a bit worn out. If he'd been good, Luan replaced one of the dildos. The stocks were a bit boring. Once you've whipped or caned an arse a couple of times before fucking it, it's no fun anymore, at least not for me. But riding the sawhorse is another matter. I couldn't get tired of seeing the girls straddling the triangular top beam, either straining to remain on their toes or to sit absolutely still when I'd chained their ankles up behind them. Placing the two of them face to face and tie their tits together was great fun too. I even tried putting up Luan and make Lua straddle him, with his cock buried in her hole.

Well, I shan't bore you with further details about our little games. Just another one, which I liked very much because I didn't cause the slaves any harm. They did it to themselves. It's fairly simple. You place a girl on the bed, spread her arms and tie them to the headboard, make another girl squat over her face, hands cuffed behind her of course, tie strings to her nipple rings, or you can use alligator clamps, raise the legs of the girl below her to vertical and tie the strings to her big toes, then make her eat out the girl on top. I assure you, however hard they try staying still, they can't. The girl who's being eaten will wriggle and the other girl can't help but kick her legs when she too gets heated up. Great show, and you can of course do it with a boy as well.

Apart from my lessons of Japanese bondage, I didn't mingle much with my fellow guests, just paid a couple of visits to the lad and his father, and when a new batch arrived after the first month I did little to get to know them. A couple of times I went to one of the weekly beach parties. They were held after dark, when a long table was set up on the border of the lagoon. A row of balltied slaves and slavegirls provided a romantic illumination, arranged as they were along the middle of the table, arses high and long candles stuck into their holes. The food was good, though nothing compared to the standards I'd become used to at my cabin, and spiced by another group of slaves, who were on their knees under the table, ready to serve as sperm deposits or urinals whenever a guest felt the need. Dinner entertainment consisted of a rather boring live show of tied up or chained slaves fucking and sucking each other in the most impossible positions imaginable, sometimes egged on with a cane or a whip.

Those three months truly were a treasure and I would have absolutely no trouble staying in this lifestyle. Waited hand and foot by submissive slaves, who always were available whether I wanted company, a bedmate or a plaything, what more could a man desire? I'd already made up my mind to stay on for a full year, I had nothing better to do and no trouble finding the money to pay for it, when new developments compelled me to leave, at least for a time. That left me in a dilemma. Should I just leave and come back, when I'd fixed the problems, but what about my slaves, then? I couldn't be sure to get them back, they might very well have been claimed by other guests, and what did I feel about that anyway? Could I face leaving them to the mercy, or lack thereof, of others? I'd seen how worn out many of the other slaves looked already, after having served less than a fourth of their time. Not necessarily because my fellow guests treated them worse than I did my slaves, though some of them could be rather rough, but because they were much more demanding. If you were staying for only one month, you'd try to get as much fun as at all possible out of that and didn't have time to get bored. Could I face coming back to find my lovely girls and sturdy boy looking like zombies, as some of their fellows did? Of course I couldn't, so I sought out the island master to find a suitable arrangement. He drove a hard bargain, had no reason not to, they met no trouble selling all the holiday packages on offer, so in the end I paid for 27 months. Yes, that's right. One month's stay carried the right to keep one exclusive slave, so to have three I had to pay for three holidays every month of the nine remaining of that year. They gave me a reduction, because I'd need only one cabin and one return ticket, but it did cost me a hefty sum. Well, so be it, I could afford that.

To make quite sure that my slaves were left in peace during my absence, I even bribed the commander of the guards to move the observation post they had on the hillside above my cabin to its garden, to keep away any guest who might be tempted to try forcing himself upon masterless slaves.

I didn't tell them about this until lunchtime on the day before the ship was due to arrive. They were shocked and the girls broke down crying, even Luan had tears in his eyes. Whether that was because they were genuinely sorry to see me leaving or out of relief and gratitude to be spared abuse from new masters I didn't know. After lunch the girls packed my clothes. We spent a quiet evening together and I told them that they were free to do as they liked in my absence, make use of all the facilities, including telephone and internet, but advised them to stay close to the cabin and only go down to the lagoon in early morning when few, if any, guests would be around. I slept with my French slave that night, made quiet love and held her trembling body in my arms until she fell asleep. Next morning after breakfast I made use of all three of them, striped their arses thoroughly, fucked the girl's pussies and then took them in the arse, one after the other, forcing them to suck my cock clean of their own shit after each bout. I managed not to come until Marianne had me in her mouth as the last. Something to remember me by. Then it was time for the last lunch and my departure. Luan hauled me down in the rickshaw, but I told the weeping girls to stay behind, promising to come back soon, or perhaps threatening, rather.

I didn't. I couldn't go back there to play with them again. They'd given me three glorious months, they deserved their freedom, and I didn't want to part with them for the second time, leaving only bad memories behind. It was a hard decision to make, but I felt happy about it and sad. I missed them, especially one of them.

Ah, well, there would be others. The whole wide world and all of its opportunities lay open to me, thousand of girls would be more than willing to throw themselves into my arms, even if they had to accept some pain into the bargain. You see, the reason why I had to leave the island was that I'd struck gold. Literally. I'd won three of the world's biggest national lotteries. I was now a millionaire in the three number range, the upper end of it. I could buy anything I desired, including slavegirls.

And now you expect me to tell either that I lost my head and went wild or how disappointing the whole thing was, leaving me with nothing but a deep depression. Neither, but somewhere in between. It took me some time to collect and invest the money, I had to go to three different countries and I prefer to make my own decisions. After that I spent the next couple of years roaming all over the world, stopping here and there for longer stays.

During the first nine months I kept track of my slaves. Not directly, but through the guard commander, who assured me that they were safe and sound. When their time as slaves was drawing to an end, I wanted to give them a new start in life, so, using the commander as an intermediary, they were handed $50.000 each, right when they were about to leave the ship. I hoped to meet them again, not as slaves but on equal footing, but in spite of offering a substantial sum of money, I couldn't wrangle any information about them out of the company. It was a very firm, and basically sound, rule never to disclose anything about neither clients, nor slaves. I didn't know who they were and they didn't know anything about me, not even my first name. Sensible, but frustrating, and, yeah, I did go to Tahiti to see if I could find Lua and Luan, after all it's a pretty small place, but to no avail.

So I had to make do with what I picked up during my travels and I can't really complain. When you're going around in private jets and chauffeured limousines, staying in luxury suites, eating at the best restaurants, well, you don't have to go hunting for female company, it comes to you. I'm not talking about whores, although there were no lack of offers, but pretty young girls who're willing to invest what they have to pick up a filthy rich guy like me. I went through quite a few, they were easy to find. A couple of stewardesses I met on the long flights, a tourist guide I hired, some receptionists and waitresses, and a number of girls I seemed to be running across in hotel bars, on the beach, at museums. Seemed to be, yeah, I don't know for sure, but I suspect there is some sort of conspiracy against guys like me. People at travel agencies, car rentals, hotels, spot us and send word to the hunting girls. So it was a reversed version of the usual boy-meets-girl thing. Not that I minded. It was easier and much more amusing to be the prey, not the predator, and I must admit that the girls showed a lot more imagination and wit when choosing their opening remarks than most guys, including myself.

Apart from that it was the same good old game. We met, I gave her a quick look-over. If I liked what I saw, I bought her a drink or a cup of coffee, depending on where we were, chatted for a while and if she was bright and witty, I offered her a dinner date to test if she was more than just a dumb bimbo. A quick fuck is fine, but I wanted more than just a one night stand and spending time out of bed with a brainless chatterbox is not my idea of fun. The first few times I did the usual, took them to a restaurant and, if not bored, suggested a drink in my suite to round off the evening. However, the girls were so blatantly eager to show me what they had to offer that I changed the date to dinner in my suite. I wasn't turned down even once, but some of the girls were. It was quite funny to see their jaws drop when I after the coffee thanked them for a nice evening and called for my car to take them home.

If I decided to let them stay, they had to pass a new test, seducing me with style. I mean, I was the prey, wasn't I? That's when it sometimes turned hilarious. I don't know about you guys, but I don't like fakes. So we went through the kissing and cuddling routines to reach the grand unveiling. By that time the clever girls had got my number and knew that I expected them to do all the work, so we had a little striptease. And then, when she'd got rid of the dress, shoes, hose and the fourth veil was falling, out pops a set of tits, magnificent, but clearly not her own. Imagine her face when I yawned and told her that I'd got a headache all of a sudden and thank you for a nice evening.

Ah, well, it didn't happen more than about a dozen times, so mostly we ended up where the girl had been heading all the time and where she'd have to pass the last test. Not by demonstrating her fucking skills, those girls knew what they were doing, but by not panicking when she found her wrists caught in a firm grip above her head, while I hammered her tunnel, and later was turned roughly on her knees, arms trapped behind her back, while I wormed my way into her back passage. Most of them squealed in surprise and struggled a bit, but soon got the message and just smiled seductively when we, after a post-coital drink, were getting ready for the next round and I fetched some silk scarves to tie her spreadeagle or legs up. Some of them actually liked it, some didn't, but a girl will do a lot to catch a multimillionaire. If they still didn't panic when they at the next dinner-date found a pair of handcuffs beside their plate, we went on from there. If they did, we had another nice evening and then parted amiably after raiding the best clothes store in town and perhaps a visit to a jewellery shop too, if she'd been a really good fuck.

Most of my affairs were short lived, but a few lasted a couple of weeks if I could spice them with ropes and chains, and perhaps a spanking or two. Dirty cheat, you think, taking advantage of the girls like that. Perhaps I was, but my looking for a steady companion was genuine enough, I just didn't find what I wanted. It came close a couple of times, though. The first was a lively little Chinese receptionist from my hotel in Singapore. Not only did she take the bondage games in her stride, she turned out to be an expert and refined my techniques greatly. We stayed together for almost three months, travelling all over Asia and had a great time, both of us, but in the end realised that the cultural gap between us was too great. We returned to Singapore, where I bought her a comfortable flat and a car, spent a week there with her in strict bondage and left a nice little nest egg to see her through the university education, she'd been saving up to for years.

The next was a cocoa brown Brazilian girl who picked me up at the Copacabana beach, of all places. She was magnificent, about my height, with a well-muscled athletic body, and sat down at my table without as much as a by-your-leave. I looked briefly at her, not least at her voluminous breasts, scarcely covered by a string bikini top, and bluntly told her that I wasn't interested in hookers, especially not hookers with fake tits. "I'm no hooker and they're not fakes". A pleasantly deep voice. "I'm willing to believe the first part if you find another table". She pouted, but rose and I turned away, but was suddenly confronted by the part of her anatomy we'd just discussed, now without covering. "They're not fakes, feel for yourself". I couldn't resist giving the left a squeeze. It was firm and warm, and definitely without implants. "OK, sorry. I owe you a cup of coffee, I guess". "How about lunch?", she countered, hauling up the two diminutive triangles, "There's a very nice restaurant over there". Laughing at her brazenness I got up to follow her.

She ate like a horse, daintily enough, but as if she'd had nothing to eat for days. When I commented on it, she confirmed that her last real meal was breakfast on the previous day. "My boyfriend threw me out and kept my money, and I don't get paid until next week". She worked at a clothes store and had spent the night there, but it was closed on Sunday. Once her hunger was satisfied, she turned out to be lively and witty, easy to talk to, so I invited her for dinner. "In my suite". She hesitated, looking speculatively at me. "OK, thanks". We spent a very pleasant afternoon at the beach before leaving for my hotel. She had only a wrap-around skirt, a thin t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops, and explained that her boyfriend had kept all her things, claiming that he'd paid for them. It wasn't true, but he was some kind of thug so she didn't dare protest. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the stretch limousine I'd hired, and even more when we reached the most expensive hotel in town. Apparently she hadn't singled me out because she knew I was rich.

A 'WOW' escaped her, when I showed her into the sumptuously furnished three room suite and another when she saw the bathroom. She spent a long time in there. When she returned, smelling of fine soap, it was clear that she was naked underneath her sparse clothing. I enjoyed her company at dinner just as much as at lunch and it was late when we finished coffee. "You're welcome to spend the night here". I rose to go to the bathroom, dropping a pair of handcuffs in her lap. I'd already decided to book her into another room, if she didn't like my idea of fun, but when I came back, she'd not only moved to the bedroom, but was on her knees on the bed, naked and with her hands cuffed to the headboard. Beside her was a heavy black leather belt I'd left on a chair. I picked it up. "Does this mean what I think?" She nodded and whispered, "Hard!" I didn't have to be told twice before doubling up the belt and slamming it across her brown globes. She sighed and wriggled them, and I painted another broad stripe. After the third she moaned, "Harder and don't stop". Happily obliging the lady I gave her thirty lashes. She hardly stirred during the punishment, but was breathing heavily. "My arsehole, hard!", she gasped, and I dropped my trousers, wrenched her burning globes apart and slammed into her, all the way in one stroke. That forced a single muffled cry from her, but after that she just moaned, breathing faster and faster while I hammered her relentlessly until my hot seed spurted into her bowels. That sent her over the edge as well and she collapsed on the bed. My cock slipped out and I sank down beside her, still with my trousers bundled around my ankles. "Whew, that was really something!" "Oh, my God!", she moaned, "Thank you, thank you".

I unlocked her cuffs and helped her up. "I think we need the bathroom, both of us". "Not yet, please". She dropped to floor in front of me and swallowed my member, slimy with sperm and her own shit. 'Holy cow!', I thought, 'Some girl you've found there'. Her tongue cleaned me and then worked wonders to make me hard again. When she was sure that I was ready, she let go and then worked feverishly to get me undressed. "Please!" She turned her back to me, offering her wrists to be cuffed again. "Please whip my breasts". She sat down on the bed, leaning back on her cuffed hands and thrusting out the magnificent globes. "They won't explode". I looked searchingly at her. "Do you really mean that, it'll hurt like hell?" "I need to be hurt. Please hit me hard and then take my other hole". "How about this, then". I fetched a riding crop. "Ooh, wonderful. Please!" She pleaded with her eyes and I swung down to hit precisely across her nipples. Not even that made her cry out, but she was shivering and breathing heavily while I swung again and again until every square inch was striped at least twice. I dropped the crop, grabbed her ankles and heaved her on her back, spreading her legs wide and burying myself in a slopping wet tunnel. Having come once already, I lasted much longer this time and, judging from the muffled sounds she made, drove her over the edge at least three times before I spurted.

This time I was allowed to help her to the bathroom, but not until she once again had sucked my soiled cock clean. We washed each other in the shower and returned naked to the bedroom, where I opened a bottle of champagne. When I turned to offer her a glass, she'd cuffed her left ankle to one of the bedposts. "Planning to stay, are you?" I grinned and got a grave look back. "Please". She took the glass and we toasted each other. "Why on earth did that moron give you up?" "He was treating me like a slave and I don't want that. I like pain, I like to be fucked hard, but I want my lover to treat me with respect. He couldn't or wouldn't understand that and we had a lot of fights, so at last he threw me out". "Would you like to stay with me, at least for a while?" "Very much".

A fulfilled dream, but it didn't last. We roamed the continent for two months, I gave her a life of utter luxury and she paid me back with her body. Her heavily striped body, whipped and spanked every night, tormented in heavy bondage, and fucked to exhaustion. She loved it and so did I, for a time, but her demands for harder and still harder torture eventually went past my limits. So once again I parted with a girlfriend, amiably, but sadly, left her well provided for and set sail for Europe.

Over there I changed tack, bought a modest car, ah well, it was a white Bentley convertible, and began a slow trek from the British Isles, through Scandinavia, the Baltic countries, Poland and Eastern Europe to Greece, sailed to Italy and went up to Germany and The Netherlands to finish with France and the Iberian peninsula. Driving around like that, on short stays mostly, didn't leave much room for adventures with willing girls and, frankly, I didn't mind. Not that I was turning celibate, but my love life had been rather hectic lately.

There was one memorable episode, though, the third I want to tell you about. I'd rented a holiday cottage by one of the fantastic beaches on the Danish North Sea coast. It was a fairly isolated spot and I'd seen very few people during the first couple of days there, so it came as a surprise when someone came knocking on the door late one evening. The surprise was multiplied when I opened it to find two young girls, a blonde and a brunette, on my doorstep, and not just young and pretty, but stark naked. My first thought was that it had to be some sort of hoax, their boyfriends hiding somewhere nearby, ready to pound on me, and I was hastily closing the door, when the blonde said something in a strange language, looking pleadingly at me while the other girl turned around to show that her hands were trapped in steel cuffs behind her back. I took a closer look and saw that her ankles were shackled as well. The blonde said something again, blushing deeply and rattling her own chains. "I'm sorry, but I don't speak Danish". The girls seemed relieved that I was a foreigner and quickly explained that they were camped in the dunes nearby and that they often fooled around with cuffs and chains. "Just for fun, of course", the brunette added hastily. "Of course". I smiled to them. This time they'd tried skinny dipping in the sea all chained up, but had somehow lost the key and spent hours looking for it before finally deciding to seek help.

"Rather daring". I eyed them speculatively. "You're pretty helpless, aren't you? Ain't got much of a chance if a guy decided to have his evil way with you". The blonde smiled shyly. "We know, but what else could we do. Will you please phone the police? They must have keys to this sort of thing". "I can offer something better. Please come in". I stepped aside, smiling my most disarming smile, and the naked chicks reluctantly entered the spacious lounge. "Just a minute". I left for the bedroom to find the keys for my own collection of cuffs, grabbing a couple of blankets on the way. "Won't take a minute". I gestured to the blonde to turn her back and tried the keys. The third did the job and her wrists were free. She was rubbing them and shaking her shoulders, undoubtedly aching after hours of bondage, while I freed her friend as well. "Cover yourselves and sit down". I handed them the blankets and knelt to free their legs as well. "Ohh! Thank you, thank you". "Part of the service. Can I offer you something? Coffee and cognac?" They accepted and asked leave to use the bathroom. When they came back, looking somewhat better, we sat down to chat. I told about my travels, without going into the more sordid details, and learned that they were sisters, trained nurses, and sharing a flat in Copenhagen. I'd of course assumed that they were lesbians, but had to change my mind when they mentioned boyfriends. After half an hour they took their leave, thanking me profusely and promising to bring back the blankets next day.

When they did, now dressed in shorts and t-shirts, I invited them in for a glass of wine, this time on the sunny terrace. We chatted for a while, until they exchanged looks and the blonde turned to me. "Thank you again for saving us, but…", she hesitated, "We've been wondering why you have all those keys". I grinned. "Any guesses?" "You have your own chains". I nodded. "For boys or girls?", the brunette asked frankly. "Girls mostly. I'm fairly straight". They exchanged another look and I went in to open a second bottle. When I'd refilled they glasses, the brunette asked again: "We, eh, we… Would you like to chain us up?" I pretended to think it over. "How about your boyfriends?" "They don't like to". "Really?" I cocked an eyebrow. "I'd think that most boys wouldn't think twice if offered a chance of fucking a helpless girl". "I, eh, well, we've never asked them". "Hmm, and now you ask a complete stranger". They looked at each other again. "OK, we want to try it for real before asking them". "I see, so you're looking for a guinea pig?" The blonde shook no. "A teacher, someone who has some experience". I took a sip of my wine, contemplating the offer. "And someone you'll never meet again. Very well, I'm tempted, but let's get something straight. If I do as you ask, it'll be no game. We'll agree on a certain period of time, but during that, you'll be my slavegirls, obliged to do what I say or suffer the consequences, and I'll of course have free use of all of your charms". "Fuck us, yes of course, but what's that about consequences?" "Naughty slavegirls get punished, and I said 'all' of your charms". "We'll have to suck you off?" I nodded. "And remember that you have two holes down there". The blonde looked shocked. "You'll fuck us in the arse?" "I like that very much". "Oh, well, I don't know". Her sister didn't seem to mind, but asked again about punishments. "A handspanking, probably a strap across your arse as well. Perhaps I'll use a riding crop". That shut them up and I changed the subject. Soon after they left, looking rather worried.

I didn't expect them to come back, but while making coffee the next morning I happened to glance out of the window to see them wheeling their bicycles towards my house, apparently loaded with camping gear. 'Interesting', I thought and hurried to the terrace, out of sight. A short while later, I heard a faint rattling of chains and they rounded the corner, attired as when I first saw them. Looking flushed and squirming under my impassive stare they shuffled up to the table and stood there, looking at the ground and shifting their bare feet. "So what do we have here. Two dedicated slavegirls or two little cockteases?" The brunette looked up. "Slavegirls, but we must talk first". "Talk!" "We have to catch a train at noon the day after tomorrow and we must phone our boyfriends at least twice a day, or they'll worry about us". "Fine with me". She took a deep breath. "You can pu.., punish us, but not leave marks. The boys will strip us naked first thing they see us again". "OK, I hadn't planned using the crop on you anyway, just my hands and a leather strap. You'll turn a delicious red, but only for a couple of hours. Is that all?" They nodded mutely. "Very well, first lesson: Always agree upon limits before you begin. I may fuck you in all three of your holes?" They nodded again, blushing all over their lovely bodies. "I may chain or tie you up painfully?" Another nod. "I may use you as real slavegirls, make you serve me, humiliate you?" This time they hesitated a bit before nodding. "And I may punish you as agreed, but at my whim?" "Yes", they whispered in chorus. "Good. Next lesson: Always agree upon a safeword. We'll use: Enough. I'll stop immediately, no matter what we're doing, if you use that word, but only that. Not if you just scream, cry, say things like: 'Don't!' or 'Stop!' or whatever, only 'Enough!'. Clear?" "Yes". Now they looked up, clearly relieved. "Slavegirls have to be polite, always addressing their master as 'Sir' or 'Master". "Yes, Sir". "So you've earned your first punishment. Come here, girl" I pushed back my chair, patting my thighs and looking sternly at the blonde. She hesitated, looked from me to her sister and back to me again, swallowed hard, but shuffled forward to lower her chained body into position. The other girl stared, a mixture of fear and excitement in her eyes.

My hand slid over the perfect globes, bronzed by the sun except for a thin line around the hips and down the crack, left by a diminutive string bikini, then rose to come down with a resounding smack. "Ough!" The girl yelled and kicked her shackled legs. "Keep still, slave, or it'll be worse". I gave her two quick slaps and she cried out again, but managed to stay in position. "That's better". The next seven were slowly and carefully placed to turn both cheeks an equal nice red. It was a gentle spanking according to my standards, but pure torture to a girl, who probably had never been spanked before. When I paused she made to rise, but a hand on her back kept her in position, whimpering softly. The whimpers turned to moans when my hand now spread her legs and travelled down her arsecrack to find the pussy. To my delight, it was wet, very wet. 'So she's enjoying this'. I rubbed the lips gently, parted them, stuck a finger into the opening, just briefly and then went for her clit, flicking it. She screamed and I continued teasing the stiffening nubbin. Her sister was staring, wide-eyed, and rubbing her thighs together. When my victim was babbling incoherently in her own language, humping my fingers, close to her peak, I stuck my thumb into her arsehole. That made her go over the edge, screaming and thrashing wildly.

I held the shivering body until she calmed down and her sobbing subsided. The brunette was gaping and tugging at her handcuffs, clearly frustrated that her pussy was out of reach. At last her sister mumbled something in Danish and I helped her up or rather to her knees beside me. "A slave always thanks her master for a punishment". She raised her tearstained face and whispered: "Thank you, Sir". "You're welcome". I opened my shorts to haul out my aching member. "Now suck me". She gulped, but shuffled forward to engulf the meat. It wasn't the first time she'd swallowed a cock and she did a very decent job, even if she didn't take me all the way down her throat. It's been a while since I last had a girl, so it wasn't long before I shot a heavy load, which she swallowed without any hesitation. "Not bad, not bad at all, girl". "Thank you, Sir". She looked up with a smile. I turned to the brunette, who was eagerly waiting for her turn, positively salivating. "I think I'll let you stew a bit". Her face fell and I grinned evilly. "Wait here".

They own chains weren't very useful for what I had in mind, so I fetched the keys and two sets of my own, shackled the brunette's wrists and ankles with two foot chains and told her to clear the table, wash up, and tidy my bedroom, but make me some fresh coffee first. She sent me a surprised and hurt look, but did as told, and I released the blonde, only to place her on her knees in front of my chair, arse towards me and cuff her again, arms between her legs and right wrist cuffed to left ankle and vice versa. "Aah!" I placed my bare feet on her still glowing arse. "Nothing better that a hot footrest". The rest of her naked body turned a nice red, of shame or was it lust? Her sister was blushing too, when she shuffled out to serve the coffee. 'Not quite what you expected, being slavegirls, was it now?' I grinned to myself and leaned back to contemplate how best to enjoy these unexpected pleasures. My human footstool was quiet for a time, but untrained as she was, hadn't learned to relax when forced into a strained position. Yet she lasted for about half an hour before her breathing became laboured and her body began to tremble. Quite good, really, so I decided to reward her and moved my foot down between her thighs to find the hidden pleasure spot. She jumped in her chains and moaned softly. I dug to open her lips and rubbed the top of my foot against the wet slit, then tickled her clit with my big toe. My other slavegirl came out to ask for further orders just as my footstool for the second time that morning gave voice to her orgasm. I rested my foot back on her arse and told the brunette to clean it, wriggling my toes. She looked bewildered at me. "With your tongue, girl, how else?" An expression of disgust crossed her face and she opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind when her sister hissed something, and knelt to use it on my soiled foot instead.

That was a splendid start of a couple of delightful days. I went easy with the girls, after all they weren't dedicated masochists, just curious and wanting to sniff at the lifestyle, but had my fun anyway. They were kept naked and in chains throughout, unless tied up, had to cook my meals and serve them, although I did allow them at table, and got to know my cock very intimately. We stopped playing at breakfast on the second morning. They actually protested, until I asked if they really wanted to go home with fresh marks on their wrists and ankles and we sat down to eat. "How can we repay you, Sir?" The blonde looked teasingly at me. "You can tell me what you liked best and we can repeat what we did last night, without the ropes that is", I challenged. To my surprise they nodded eagerly. 'Well, well, you've come far already, young ladies', I thought, 'Gonna surprise your boyfriends'. What I suggested was the toughest test I'd put them through. Balltied on the edge of the bed, arses high and lashed together, they'd suffered a solid handspanking, very solid, I'd put on gloves to protect my poor palms. Then I'd worked the soles of their feet over with a belt until their screams all but busted my eardrums, yet they didn't use the safeword. After that I fucked them, long and hard, kept them trussed up for a couple of hours, used their pussies first, one after the other and made them clean me up in their mouths, put clothespins on their nether lips and their toes and sat down to restore myself with a glass of wine. Then it was time for their arses, and for cleaning the other's shit off my cock. They most certainly didn't like that. Finally I retied them in a sixtynine, lay them down on their sides and told them to eat each other out. They protested, vehemently, that they were no lesbians, but the strap across their arses soon persuaded them to go to town.

"To tell what we liked best, that's easy". The blonde looked at her sister, who took up the thread. "Last night". I cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" "Yes, it was the right combination of helplessness, humiliation, pain, and sex. You're a great teacher, Sir". "Thanks, but I dare say those boys of yours are up for a surprise". They grinned hugely. "We'll take it easy with them. Where should we start, Sir?" I thought it over. "Silk scarves. Tease them, act feisty, try preventing them from getting their way, then suggest that they'd better tie you up, perhaps spreadeagle on the bed". The girls nodded their understanding. "Pretend it's just for fun so they won't get scared or turned away. Try that a couple of times until they've got used to it, then change position, legs up. Perfect for spanking, and anal, if that's what you want". The blonde shook her head. "I do, a lot, but my boyfriend would never do it". "Of course he will, any man would. You've got no idea how tight and narrow you are there". I grinned. "Just go easy with them and they'll follow you all the way".

I was sorry so see them leave. It's rare to meet two so charming, cheerful, courageous, and curious girls. Yes, they were great. Not least that last morning, when they knelt there on the bed, side by side, desperately grabbing first their big toes during a painful bastinado, then their ankles while I made their arses turn fiery red before pounding their backdoors. We took a last shower together and they mounted their bicycles to pedal away, wincing at the pain in their tender behinds and soles, scarcely protected by shorts and flip-flops.

Part six

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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