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Review This Story || Author: Marshall Wade

Dream Island Resort

Part 3 Freshmen

Part 3. Novices.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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