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Review This Story || Author: Marshall Wade

Dream Island Resort

Part 4 Sophomores

Part 4. Gaining experience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Review This Story || Author: Marshall Wade
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