The Amoral Island (Open to any number of M or F)

After that delightful fuck, I just stayed there on the bed, enjoying the smooth touch of the silk sheets on my bare ass. Thoughts of Luisa returning to the bed, giving me another ride, were dashed when I saw her get dressed and leave the room. "Fuck, what a let down," I mutter to myself.

Finally, I muster the energy to pull my own pants and t-shirt back on. I grab Luisa's backpack and rop it off in my own room on my way back down to dinner. 'That should motivate a visit later tonight,' I think as I make my way downstairs, whistling happily.

"Hey guys, Luisa, what's for dinner? Ah, lamb. I love it," I say, taking a seat at the table.

"You're a bit late," I respond as I finish off my dessert. "The soup's probably cold, but if you cared, you would have been here on time." My words are harsh, but I have no interest in tempering myself for the weakling. "If you need anything, ask one of the maids."

I retreat to my chambers, knowing that I have work to do. I lock the door, barricade it with a dresser, and enter the hidden hallways behind the bookcase. The entire manor is my playground. From the servants' chambers in the basement, the guest bedrooms on the first two floors, or my own private dungeon, I have free reign to watch and observe the actions of others.

Only one of them looks at all prepared, and that's Marigay. There's a huge suitcase in her room, filled with Lord knows what. I can't imagine her to be the type that would bring many outfits to a battle such as this; no, there's equipment in there, but what kind? Perhaps I'll get a chance to see what is in that suitcase...

Luisa's packing light, and I can't even begin to comprehend what her strategy is. No matter. Like the others, I'll just have to observe and learn.

"Asshole," I mutter under my breath as Michael leaves the room. 'Man, I'd love to kick that guy's ass,' I think as I peruse the leftovers.

Noticing one of the naked, collared maids, I bark a quick order. "Girl, prepare me a plate with some leftover lamb and dessert. I'll have a bowl of the soup too. Please deliver all of that along with a bottle of wine and two glasses to my room." The whole time that I am talking to the slave-maid, I can't stop thinking about how incredible Luisa had been, and how great it would be to have her as a slave. 'Hell, in a day or two, she could be the one delivering leftovers to my room, maybe giving me a quick blowjob instead of dessert.'

"Hey Luisa, want to head back to my room? We could split this bottle of wine. Maybe take turns having a go at the maid?"

I rush upstairs, moving fairly quickly so I can get the lay of the land around the Manor House. Just as I close my door, I hear another door open in the hall; likely is the missing Mr. Speed on the way to finally eat. Undoing a few of the traps on the trunk, I pull out a safari-type camo outfit and some sturdy boots, changing quickly. There are some odd sounds according to the sound amplifier I plug in my ear, but there will be time to investigate that later. Two or three handy devices later, I close the trunk and recheck all the tells and booby traps.

Exiting the mansion down the back stairs and through the kitchen, I wandered through the yard and into the dense woods. I put on my glasses, turned them on, and started to look around. There, there, and... THERE. Three heat blooms from what must be entrances to tunnels. I went to each; two appeared to be dead ends, the other led into the tunnel I had been in earlier; my blazes concealed in that tunnel showed at once. I returned to look into the dead end ones again; it seemed less than likely that a great deal of work would go into digging out these holes for no reason. Aha! Just behind the light on the ceiling, in darkness where it would never be seen found; a switch in a depression. I pushed it and one of the walls gave off a "thunk" sound. Shoving hard on it, it slowly swung wide to open up the tunnel, leading towards the Manor House. I chased in, sliding the tunnel door shut after learning the locking method from this side.

A short walk, and the musty smell changed somewhat; there was a human smell in the air; urine or some such. I charged on.

From the look on Jason's face I take it that he would like to see Michael with my switchblade buried in his throat just as much as I would. Alas, the rules are clear on killing our opponents.
I'm a bit surprised how everybody barks at the servants or slaves. They obviously have always been in the right place at the right time. I'm beginning to think if whether the slaves might be of any help in this game. At least it can't hurt to treat them with a little bit of respect. If all goes wrong I'll be one of them sooner than I could wish for.

Jasons question reaches me in my thinking over my plan. I get up from the chair, walk over to him and bend over, brushing my tits on his head.
"Sure, honey. Just not right now, i've got some other fish to fry first. But I'll be with you in no time at all. You'll be waiting, I hope." Sure enough, his hand is already on my leg, trying to work up my cut off jeans. I wriggle away, and with a last look at him I dash to the kitchen, ask the cook for the back door and head out.

There's a small backyard, giving way to macchia, that thorny underbrush typical to most mediterranean islands. Perfect. I hide behind a large broom, eating a couple of prickly pears I plucked on the way. Soon enough I see Marigay emerging for the back door and heading for the macchia. She's wearing some goggles or something like that. After she scanned the grounds she heads away, me following her in a safe distance. She goes to three holes in the ground, making her way to and fro between them. Finally she doesn't reappear out of the last one she went in and I turn back to the manor. I sure don't want to bump into Marigay down there. There's time enough later in the night or tomorrow to explore that cave or tunnel.

I just hope Jason waited. Some good fucking would be just what I could do with right now. And, coming to think of it, why not include that cute maid.

I clearly remember the naked maid from earlier in the day. She had driven me part of the way to the castle. 'What was her name again,' I pomder, 'it was Italian. Sillitta, yes Sillitta.'

I hook my rignt index finger under Sillitta's collar, jingling the little bll and name tag affixed to it. "Hurry up then Luisa, Sil and I will be waiting for you."
I lead the slave girl up the stairs toward my room.

Not knowing which of the doors on the first floor leads to Jasons room I simply open them all. The first two are empty and unoccupied. The third seems to be in use. The linen on the bed show the impression of a big body and a large trunk stands beneath the window overlooking the backyard. Possibly Marigay’s room. I’m tempted to look into the trunk, but a woman that comes equipped with night vision goggles or such a thingy isn’t likely to leave her trunk unlocked for everyone to look into. Besides, my lockpickets are in my backpack. There’s nothing else in the room I’m interested in so I go to the door and listen for sounds in the hallway. Nothing. I head out. The room opposite Marigay’s is mine. In need of a drink I go in and am royally pissed off to see that my backpack went missing. Whoever took it away better had a good explanation or..., well, no need to think about what I’m going to do yet ...
After a drink from the tab in the bathroom I resume checking the doors. Two more empty rooms later I come to the second last door. I hear muffled sounds, likely of Jason and the girl having fun. Or at least Jason is having fun.
I quickly check the last room to make sure that it’s empty. I’m not surprised Michael isn’t lodging on this floor. He probably already occupied the master chamber. Well, not for much longer, if I can help it.

Back at the door to Jason’s room I open it slowly, taking in the sight in front of me. He’s lying on his back, his hands folded behind his head, the girl going down on him. So much for waiting till I return. I wonder what he’s doing on the island. He’s running a high risk for a mere cheap fucking. He could have that in Kentucky too, I reckon.
I close and lock the door and walk up to the bed. He didn’t even bother with hiding my backpack. Now how stupid can one get before it starts to hurt? Jason’s leering at me, but right now I feel more like cutting his throat than fucking with him. Furthermore, right now i’m more interested in eating that maids pussy. The poor girl seems to have been uber-horny. At least making her cum doesn’t take me more than a couple of minutes. I pull her off Jason and tell her to go and get some sleep. With a „thank you very much, miss“ she’s gone.
I look at Jason and cannot help but grin when i see his disappointment. „Now don’t be disappointed, Jason. You know, the two of us would have been too much for you anywway.“ Then I give him the blowjob of his life.
Later, after some rough riding and when he’s almost dozing off into a post-coitus slumber, I decide to let the backpack incident slide and instead tell him about my idea.
„Jason, sweet’eart, you know, I thought of you and me. Especially of you. And ’onestly, I don’t think you’ll stand very much of a chance against Marigay or Michael. Or me. So I thought why don’t you `elp me to win this contest and I’ll make you my special slave? You ’ave seen I’m nice to the servants ’ere and you also know that fucking me wont be ’alf as fun when you forcing me to do it. It would be a free ride for you, ya know.“

Inside the underhalls, I stalk from room to room, spying on the inhabitants. The manor is far more noisy than I ever recall it being.

I soon see one of the reasons why.

Jason is in one of the bedrooms, fucking a maid. Siliitta. She was born on this island and can't even imagine a life where her body isn't being used for labor or pleasure. I've had my go with her plenty of times. She's good, but not the best this island has to offer.

But there's something else. I pause. Doors opening and closing. Somebody inside the manor is snooping around, but they'll never find me. I try to figure out where the noise is coming from, but the sounds soon stop, returning to the quiet sounds of sex.

I'm ready to return to my room when I hear something else. More footsteps in the distance. Is it in the manor, outside... or within these tunnel walls? I begin to stalk slowly and carefully, wandering in to a small nook in the wall between two rooms. From there, I still myself, now noticing even more sounds. I'm near the basement residence of the maids and manservants. I can hear them talking to themselves quietly, full of a life and humor that they never show in their masters' presence.

There's something else in the air, though. More sounds. Perhaps the maids are taking the opportunity for a roll in the hay, so to speak?

So I sit, alone in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the lively manor and pondering my next move. I have a unique vantage point for the game, and I must use it to my advantage for better reasons than mere spying.

'This place is so awesome,' I think over and over again, as the Italian slave-maid bobs her head up and down sucking my cock. Just when I think that things couldn't get any better, I am pleased to see Luisa slip through my door. 'She actually took me up on my offer. I didn't have to wait for her to storm in here angrily looking for the backpack. Fuck, the backpack, I didn't even hide it. This is so going to end badly.'

I quickly forget about the backpack as I watch Luisa totally eat Sillitta out. It's not until they are done that I was just sitting there staring, too slack-jawed to even jump in and make it a threesome. I recover just in time for the blow job of my life- pretty damn impressive given that Sillita's blowjob had previosuly been the blowjob of my life- and a little good old fashion sex. 'God, I love being on the bottom; and Luisa rides me just like some crazed cowgirl on a bronco gone rabid.'

I'm almost a little disappointed when Luisa wants to talk. All I really want to do is have a cigarette- I only smoke after sex- and get some sleep. As she goes on and on about me having no chance and just ending up a slave here, I keep wanting to tell her that I am an American citizen, ad I can't just be held against my will on some little European island trying to pass itself off as a nation. I keep that to myself though, because an Alliance can't hurt, and the better I do here, the better my odds of landing a spot on a quality reality television program when this is all said and done; besides, if Luisa and I take it to the final round of this, I can always turn on her at the last minute. "Sure Luisa, I'd love to help you out. Hell, being your lsave might be kind of fun. What's the plan?"

Unsurprised, I was in the cellar of the Manor House. An old place like this has many underground places, some of which my parents had described. My map was getting filled in now.

I stopped to look around after I saw a heat bloom ahead of me in view of my night-vision goggles. There was a door to one side that had a small source, another hall ahead which had a lot of heat, and one spot off to the right, seemingly down another hallway, where there was just one small signature. I decided that the hallway ahead was likely servant quarters; the amplifier in my ear showed that was multiple voice sounds. I heard one respiration down the hall to the right, and three or more to the left... I decided to go that way. Likely the lone source was someone going to or returning from duties upstairs.

I heard a loud noise and ducked into the shadows. One of the maids came through with a shit-eating-grin plastered on her face; she looked like she was just well-fucked. And she turned down the hall towards the noise... yup, verified, servant quarters.

Through the heavy metal door, and what have we here? Three women, chained and bound... staring at me. One quite old; white headed. One middle-aged. One young, and all three looked well-fed and sexy. I noticed dried crusty puddles between their legs. Oh, that's what they were. The marks on their wrists and ankles showed those chains had been on them for a long time, years.

Stepping before them, I quietly spoke. "Is there some way I might help you women? I am not here to hurt you. Can you talk to me?"

A new voice come echoes in the darkness. I look through the peep holes in the brick wall and see that I am still beside the maid's chambers, but the voices are not the same. No, the voice is coming from this side of the barrier., from within these long sealed off corridor where my grandfather kept his most defiant pets. Was somebody else down here? Were these tunnels not completely secure? I thought I had mapped them fully, but I must admit I had gotten lost myself when exploring. Perhaps there was another entrace... or more.

I stealthily walk down the corridor, towards the voice. And then I realize where it is coming from-- my private play pen. The door is ajar and it takes me but a moment to place the voice.

It is Marigay, my distant cousin. She's found her way into my private tunnels and is in the process of freeing my slaves.

No. I can't allow that to happen. But... oh, this is perfect.

I dash forward and slam the prison door shut and slide the bolt down in to place. The door is locked, and I'm pretty sure she's still inside. Still, I remain silent. She musn't know it is me, else she'll undoubtedly seek revenge if she can escape. I tip-toe away quietly, lest I give away my presene any further.

And speak the slaves do... especially the youngest one. She whispers stories that make me cringe about things that her Masters, both the Grandfather and Michael, have done. I inspect the wrist and ankle chains, but they are spot-welded and can't be removed. A small storage area out of their chains' reach has food and a few treats; I give them that. They have access to water from a spigot on the wall which must be there to wash down waste and such. I cannot free them now, but promise all to return when I won this contest and get them loose.

Ready to leave, I tried to exit. The door was latched! Hmm; it was a sliding bolt, so it must have been someone with access to this side-tunnel; someone who knew the way, obviously none of the servants... or Jason or Luisa, either. They had not taken time to explore yet; I felt this would be to their detriment. They would be in the dungeon some day soon, waiting for the 17 hours to pass.

I inspected the door carefully; rusty hinges which squeaked, solid and sound otherwise. Hmm. Time for another one of those little goodies I had brought along; my friend the door opener. Blasting tape was fun, but not strong enough to blow a metal door from the hinges. Fortunately, I had four feet of it wrapped around my waist!

Pulling out, let's see... 24 inches of it should do... Three hinges, four inches each, double thickness. I used a blanket to protect the women, just in case, and set it off. The burning hot flame did a fine job hissed its way though the hinges, and a strong push with my shoulder, protected with that same blanket, broke them off and let me escape. I put the door back in place so it didn't show the damage unless closely observed.

Quietly, I checked up the tunnel... no warm spots in sight. I ducked back down the tunnel and exited into the overgrowth in the back yard after sealing that tunnel again. I kicked up some dirt so the secret door would not be obvious. I stole my way back into the Manor House through the kitchen, and got back into my room. Lights out, I checked the room with my night vision and a simple match.

Old homes were always drafty, but I wanted to see where the drafts came from. I padded around the door base and windows with towels, and lit a match... the breeze came from... there! Another match, narrow it down again, yet another, aha! A sneaky little opening into a dark space which had a different air source, somewhat cooler. I looked for a door, but there was none. A broad piece of masking tape covered *this* hole, anyway; I felt certain there were more. Quickly putting away some of my toys, I set up a few others and slid a couple things under my pillow. I was glad I came prepared. Sliding into the so soft, rich silk sheets, I allowed myself to relax for the first time since I'd been on the island. I was safe now in bed, and needed to relieve some tension.

Opening my pajama, one hand went to my nipples... super-sensitive and wonderful; they were hard in seconds. Slowly, I snuck up on my clit, running my fingers through the red curls, now slightly matted and ripe with my pheromones. I slid my middle finger up inside, finding that center of my pleasure so happily discovered when I was young and exploring myself. Three or four times I brought myself off, joyous with the wonderful release the climaxes brought me. I drifted to sleep, knowing the next day would be rough at best.

"Well, 'oney, the next step of the plan is like this: I put a collar on you for the next seventeen 'ours and then I win the contest." I smile at him, my head propped on my hand. He looks at me, incredulously. "You might be a good fuck, but you're also quite nuts if you think I surrender to you."
"Hmm, too bad. Well, it was worth trying. Anyway, like some pot?" I jump out of the bed and walk over to my backpack. I can hear him draw his breath, I guess he's a bit worried about stealing my backpack. After some rummaging I find the little casket with the marihuana and my Camels. And the white powder in the little plastic bag. I secretly and quickly sniff a small dose, just enough to keep me awake another two hours. Standing beside the bed, my legs spread to give him full view of my shaved pussy I finally address the backpack-issue: "You know, if I did not like to fuck with you that much, I would 'of slit your throat for stealing my backpack now."
Then I head for the toilet to take a leak. Jason gets up and stands in the doorway, watching me pee and roll a joint at the same time. His dick is already twitching again. "I'm sorry, I only took it so you would come to my room to have fun."
"Of course, 'oney. I understand. Cigarette or some of the finest grass you will find north of the equator?" I hold out the spinello and the Camels.
Not that it really matters, the grass will knock him out just because it contains enourmous amounts of THC, the cigarettes are quite special too. Full of THC also, but in it's pure form so he won't even realize what he's smoking. Sometimes it's just a blast to have a friend in the drug business.

This whole experience is very surreal. Nowhere in Kentucky would I ever have had the opportunity to get high while watching a beautiful woman take a piss. I take a puff off of the joint I just rolled. 'Man, that's strong I think,' as I suppress a cough and pass to Luisa, hopeful that I can keep her in a squatting position just a bit longer.

When Luisa hands the joint back,I take another puff. "Yeah, sorry about the backpack. I just wanted to make sure you came back for another visit. I guess, in retrospect, I really didn't have to resort to stealing your pack. I didn't look inside, if it's any consolation."

I take another puff, beofre passing it back to Luisa. "Lu, this is some good shit. Where'd you get it. Ah, nevermind, if you tell me, and it's some exotic locale, it'll just piss me off that I can't get any."

As Luisa and I near the end of the joint, I am really starting to wear out. 'Man, what happened to my stamina,' I think as I lay down on the bed. The last words out of my mouth before I pass out are "maybe it wouldn't be so bad to play at being your slave for a bit. I can always go back to teh US and forget all about it if things aren't going so well."

I snore softly, completely at Luisa's mercy.

Jason keeps staring at my pussy. By the time I wipe myself and get up he already looks dazed. He heads for the bed and lies down, saying something about going back to the States, if he doesn't like being a slave.

Porca mìseria, the poor bloke really missed the point. Going back to Kentucky? What the hell is he thinking? None of us four will go to Kentucky, or any other place. Three will likely be chained to a wall in some moldy dungeon, while one will have a very good time thinking of new ways to humiliate and torture them. And possibly even a better time trying all that shit out. That is, if I’ll be the one, the other three won’t suffer too much. All I am looking for is a place to stay, somewhere I don’t have to run anymore. I don’t mind violence if need be, but I’m not too fond of meaningless torturing and hurting people.

"Buonanotte, spero che dormi bene, Jason" I say before kissing him softly. The pity I feel with him passes in a whiff. No time for feelings. At least not now.
Instead, I hurry down to the slaves' quarter, still stark naked. They're all sound asleep. In the dim light I search the closets in the hallway and soon enough I find a steel collar. Back in Jasons room I put it around his throat, locking it in place. Looks like one needs to saw it off, once it is properly closed. Jason will be passed out for some time, probably won’t make it for breakfast. Good thing I didn’t inhale. That leaves me with enough time to thouroughly search his baggage. I find his key to the vault hidden in the lining of his bag. I open the window and smoke a cigarette, one of the regulars, not one of those with the THC. Not that I really want a smoke, but it helps to get to the toilet another time. There’s still my own key I have to take care of.
With both keys in the pocket of my jeans and shouldering my backpack I head to my room, carefully locking both mine and Jasons doors.
While I’m getting ready for my little expedition I hear steps in the hall, a door opening and closing. Marigay has returned, and hopefully is going to sleep.
A few minutes later, when the moon is covered by a passing cloud and with some equipment that might come handy I climb out the window down to the backyard. All is quiet, but I still stick to the shadows. A hundred meters up the slope behind the mansion I turn around and take a look at it. Something seems to be odd about the building, but at first I don’t get it. Then I realize that the windows are too far apart from each other to match the dimensions of the rooms. There must be blind rooms, or passages between them. I’m not surprised. And I bet Michael knows those passages.

I head for the entrance to the tunnel Marigay entered earlier. Once inside I turn on the flashlight. Marigays' steps are clearly visible in the dirt. A lot of prints directly underneath the light, then one set leading up to a wall and simply disappearing. I’m a bit disappointed. A person who has possibly gone thru serious training, who brings a huge trunk full of gimmicks and technical devices and whatnots, has forgotten about the good old art of trackreading? Or is it a trap? I don’t think she’s set up a trap, she didn’t come here to hunt, but to explore.
I step back to the light and carefully look around. After some time I find the switch. Alas, I’m too small to reach it. A stick from the nearest stone oak outside does the trick, and after some heavy pushing on the wall I enter a tunnel. It’s completely dark. Slowly I follow one of the walls. After a while I hear soft snoring, and my hand finds something metallic. A board? It’s leaning against the wall. I turn on the flashlight and take a closer look. A metal door, it’s hinges burned off by a blowtorch or something like that. Behind it is a room with three figures on thin mattresses, chains around their ankles and wrists.
But why was the door destroyed? Did Michael and Marigay have an encounter down here? I take a look around, but don’t dare to waste too much time in these tunnels. I know now that there are secret passageways likely all over the mansion. However, I’m no mole. This will not be my playground.
I exit the tunnel again and don’t bother to close it. Then I head into the macchia, taking some time to make sure that nobody is following me. The keys I hide in two different places and finally I roll up behind the overhanging trees of an old ulivo. Once again I listen into the night to make sure that nobody followed. Then I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Light streaming through the window of my room causes me to blink, and blink again, before I finally open my eyes. I still have a headache, but it's not as bad as after my encounter with Marigay. In fact, it's not a bad headache at all. A good headace? Yeah, the kind you have after a night of great sex and pot.

I'm still covered by a silk sheet. I cast it aside. I'm naked and covered in a mix of my own dried cum and Luisa's juices, similarly dried now. I need to get a shower. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, stand, and make my way to the washroom. A glance in the mirror harbors a huge surprise. I'm still as cute as always. Chicks totally dig my lean body and cute face, but there's something new. I reach up and touch it, a collar, made of steel, rings my throat. I spint it around looking for the clasp. I've never been fond of jewelry. No clasp. Fuck. How does this thing come off and on.

I study it a bit longer before giving up and getting on with my shower. Toweling off, I stroll back to the bedroom and look for some clothes to put on. Damn it, my cargo shorts and STP t-shirt are gone. Who the fuck took them. "Luisa?!" I shout, as I cast about the room looking for my backpack and a change of clothes. It's gone too. Great, fucking great. I've been collared and left naked. I'm never going to land a spot on Survivor with a performance like this.

Frustrated, I peek my head out the door, only to see Sillitta walking down the hall, carrying a stack of clean towels to the various rooms. "Sillitta, Sillitta, I half-wisper, half-yell, come here." Sillitta dutifully sets the towels back on a service cart and come closer to the doorway where I stand. "Sillitta, do you think there are some extra clothes around here that I could get my hands on?"

Sillitta, no fool, spies the collar around my neck immediately. She shakes her head from side to side and grins broadly. "Clothes, brother," she didn't call me Master or even Jason, "I don't think you're going to be needing those again."

I faint and fall to the floor.

I sit on the deck of the little boat that i have hired to escort me to the island, re reading the letter from the french lawyers yet again. The letter, complete with travellers cheques for 4000 euros arriving at my sydney home had seemed too good to be true, but it all seemed to check out. I didn't think i had much of a claim to the inheritance, but what 21 year old girl would pass up a free trip all the way from australia to europe? And the lawyers had assured me that all potential heirs contacted had a right to put forward their claim. Not that i had any real intention of pushing my weak one. I was there for the free holiday.

True, my mother had occasionally made passing references to being descended from a french aristocrat, but any direct connection with them seems to have stopped hundreds of years ago, before the revolution, according to my grandmother. If i had thought about it at all i had assumed that the line had been wiped out with the revolution. Then suddenly his letter appears out of the blue. But don't these old families inherit through the male line anyway?

I fingered the pendant around my neck that i had been told to wear at all times. Weird touch, a bit melodramatic, like something out of a novel. And the key enclosed with the letter? Surely my passport would be a more effective way of proving i was a rightful claimant.

Lucky i wasn't taking the prospect of inheriting too seriously. I had dallied in France, enjoying my first trip to europe and a fellow young back packer, an English university student starting a trip on the continent. By the time i tore myself away from him and got to the port it was the date specified on the letter as the deadline for getting to the island. I had figured that wouldn't be a problem, but asking around at the docks, people seemed strangely reluctant to let me charter their boats. As soon as they heard where i wanted to go they turned strangely stiff, made increasingly implausible excuses, and hurried away.

After two days of searching i had finally found the owner of this little vessel. I was getting worried that if i didn't make it to the island soon the estate would try to claim back my travel expenses. So i used all the advantages I had. I stand 5 foot 3, and the lack of height high lights my curviness. My D cup breasts that would look merely large on a taller girl look huge on me, balanced out by the curve of my hips. Looking up at this captain, tossing back my long light brown curls and letting my big blue eyes fill with tears, i explained the urgency, stressing my distress at being alone in a foreign country. He gave me a strange look "You sure you want to go there Miss?". Why did people keep asking me that? I restrained myself from stamping my foot on the dock and assured him i did. So he charged me an exhorbinant price and lifted me from the dock onto his tiny vessel, letting his hands roam over me as he did so. The he jumped aboard himself.

After the way he had felt me up when he put me aboard I was a bit worried about being alone on the open sea with him. But he stayed at the wheel, and i sat at the other end of the deck, re reading my letter, checking my visa and passport. Mellissa Johnson, 21, of Sydney Australia. It certainly didn't sound like the last heir of a great french family.

The little boat stopped at a tiny wooden dock. I could see a house in the distance, it seemed quite large, with a few buildings scattered around it. That seemed to be all. I guess i had been assuming that there would be a town as well. I mean, people don't just live alone on their own island any more do they? It seemed so decadent.

"You're sure you want to get off here? A girl like you, all alone?" the captain asked me. Well if he thought i was going to invite him to escort me and have another grope he was wrong. "I'll be fine", i assured him, jumping up and gethering the papers and keys into a bundle that i shoved into my pocket. As i jumped up i heard the sound of metal striking the deck. I looked on the ground and saw a 20 cent peice. Well, i smiled to myself, that's of no use to me here. So I disembarked without further investigation, assuming that that was all that had fallen from my pocket.

I waved to the boat as it left. Then i turned around and tried to judge the distance to the house. It would be too much to expect a taxi I guess, I thought wryly to myself. There was only one road and it seemed to head towards the house, so wrapping my jacket tightly over my low cut top to protect against the sea wind, I started walking along it. I supposed that they didn't think anyone else was coming, although I had informed the lawyers I was having issues with transport and would be arriving late. Surely they would have sent a car if they were expecting me.....


Character: Melissa Johnson
Much prefer M/f play.
Hard limits: Scat, knife play, age play under 16, mutilation.

I hope I'm not to late to join in. If i am just tell me and i'll delete this.

OOC i don't think you're too late, and certainly glad to have you...even if i have already been done in.

I don't think i'll be far behind you :)

OOC: Everybody is preoccupied (I think), so it looks like you're walking the mile-or-so road up to the manor. Don't worry, it's scenic!

When i come round the mansion in the morning, the odd leave still stuck in my hair, i see the girl. Young, about my age. But even shorter. And it seems as if my small tits are out of fashion on this island, all other women wear them extra large.
I walk down the road towards her and offer my hand.
"Luisa, nice to meet you. If you are one of the 'eirs you 'ave just come in time. May i 'elp with your backpack?"

I awaken only seconds later to Sillitta nudging me in the ribs with a bare toe. "Wake up slave boy," she chides me as I sit up, "we've got work to do."

"Work, what?" I ask, confused.

"There's a new visitor to the island. We have to go help her get her luggage up?"

"Another heir?"

"An heir, period. You're out of the running chump."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm a slave now. Well, do you at least have some sort of uniform I can put on."

"You're wearing it," Sillitta answers with an evil grin.

The Italian slave girl and I start out down the road toward the dock. About halfway down the road, I can see the newcomer in the distance. Curse my luck it looks like she is talking to Luisa. 'This is going to be so humiliating,' I think as Sillitta and I approach the two women.

She introduces herself as Melissa but she doesn't want me to help her with the backpack. Ok, suits me. We chat a little about places we've been, such things.
Then i see Sillitta and Jason coming down the road. And Jason is.... naked? Hmm. Strange. Anyway, he isn't completely naked, the collar is still around his neck.
I look at Melissa. When she sees the two are stark naked, her eyes widen and she gives me an incredulous look.
I just shrug and say "That's 'ow the servants dress 'ere. Or rather, the slaves."
Her expression turns from incredulous to horrified. Oh my, the poor gal. She definitely isn't prepared for this island.
"Jason, tesoro, please help the lady with her backpack. And hello Sillitta, did you sleep well?"

I've only been walking about five minutes when i see someone coming towards me. A girl, about my size. As she comes closer i see that she is blonde and pretty, near to me in age and that while her body might be the same height as mine, the resemblance ends there. Hers seems toned and hardened to perfection and there is determination in her every step. Next to her i seem all curves and my slow amble up the hill couldn't be more different from her determined trot towards me.

She introduces herself as Luisa and offers to help with my backpack. I decline the offer, somewhat defensively. Just because i don't have her air of certainty, doesn't mean i can't look after myself, and i have managed to lug it thousands of miles already.

I almost instantly regret my slight rudeness. She is incredibly friendly, and we fall into the usual back packer talk of travel and parties.

i tell her that i don't have much faith in my claim to this inheritance, but the cash was a great way to kick off a trip to europe. She gives me the strangest look, a whole series of emotions passing through her blue eyes. Suspicion, surprise, pity? Then they become guarded and slightly cold again.

Two more people appear, coming down the hill. From this distance they seem to be coming down for a swim - they can't be wearing much more than swimsuits. But then i think of the cold and the way the wind is trying to penetrate my coat. It may have been late spring when i left australia, but you would have to be mad to want to go swimming here.

As they come closer i can see that they are naked. What have i stumbled across here, a nudist colony? Maybe that was why the mainlanders were suspicious of my wanting to come here.

I look over at Luisa, eyes wide. She shrugs casually, and in that european accent that I can't quite pin, tells me that that is how the servants dress here. Like it's the most normal thing in the world. Then she adds the stinger "Or rather, the slaves".

"Slaves? What are you talking about? Do you mean they treat them like slaves or....." My babbling surprise is cut off as we meet them. One man, one woman, both stark naked except for a metal collar around their necks.

Luisa starts talking in a tone of authority, telling the man to help with my backpack, speaking to the lady civilly but with an air of superiority.

The lady answers her politely and deferentially. The man, however, reaches out and grabs her arm. "You owe me some answers Luisa", he snarls

When I see Luisa, memories of the previous night come rushing to the front of my brain. The bitch had been a good fuck, yeah, but then she started talking about me becoming her slave. Maybe my mistake was listening, maybe it was somking her pot. I don't know. I don't care.

"Come on Luisa, you owe me some answers. Where the fuck did you get this collar that you slapped on me? More importantly, what made you think you could slap it on me in the first place? And where are my clothes?"

The wily girl doesn't answer me at all, at least not until she twists free from my grasp, and deftly pins my offending arm beghind my back. As she applies still more pressure, intense pain shoots from my wrist to my shoulder. "'Ere, 'ere now Jason," she purrs, "can we talk calmly about this or must I break your arm?"

"We, we can talk calmly Lusia, I promise. Don't break my arm," I whimper. "I'll carry her pack," I add, sniffling, as I look at the feet of the new arrival.

The sun is streaming into my eyes, as I awake, quite rested. Rushing through my morning rituals, I am soon dressed and "equipped".

The cook had given me a hot croissant dripping with fresh butter and sweet herbs. I was just finishing it when I noticed another newcomer breasting the hill behind the Manor.

She was accompanied by two slaves and a dressed woman, must be Luisa. I rushed out, and caught the new woman, Melissa. I shook her hand warmly, and put my arm around her. She never noticed the bit of catalyst soaking into her neck and hand where I touched her. Odorless, painless, and tasteless, it was half of my plan.

I was ready to do some exploring, so I set off to walk along the shoreline. I approached the limit of what I had seen so far, passing the pier. A gleam in the sun caught my eye on the jetty, and I bent over to pick up a coin that had fallen. Nearby, in between the planks, another gleam... and there was one of the keys! I wasn't sure whose it might have been, but it was MINE now.

Glancing around, there was nothing more other than a noisy boat sailing away to the eastern horizon. I resumed my hike, watching for signs of anything. I put on my infra red goggles again, looking for more tunnel openings.

I wander around the ouside of the island, sticking to the near-edge of the cliff surrounding the small living space. The long walk gave me an idea of the lay of the land, and lots of hidey-holes. I stashed a few things in out-of-the-way places, erasing my tracks with tree branches with leaves. Just in case I was on the run, I'd still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

Halfway around, I was surprised to find a cave with tracks around it... of a big, big cat. Lynx? Wildcat? Whatever, I was surprised. Would this island never stop surprising me?

(OOC Chuckdom, i love how you totally ignore me in that post. i'm just one of "two slaves" now.)

The naked man grabs Luisa and they start yelling at each other. I turn awkwardly to the naked woman. Sillitta, Luisa had called her. This is all getting too wierd for me. "Why does she call you slaves?", i ask. She gives me a calm, kind smile, the sort you would give to a child who asks why the grass is green. "Because we are", she replies gently.

I'm about to ask more when the tallest woman i've ever seen descends the hill. She may look like an amazon, but she gushes at me like a wealthy socialite, all effusive hellos and hugs. She introduces herself as Margay and as suddenly as she appeared she is gone, striding towards the jetty.

We continue up the hill, Sillitta and i walking in front, the man (nobody has bothered to tell me his name and i don't like to interrupt his argument with Luisa to ask it) carrying my bag and continuing to converse with Luisa behind us. Their talk seems to have calmed down now.

I keep trying to ask Sillitta questions, but i am getting nowhere. I ask her why she and the man are naked. "Because we are slaves", she answers.
"But what does that mean?", i ask,
"That we serve", she replies
"So you're servants?"
"No, we're slaves".

I turn around to ask Luisa what she means. Luisa seems to be the only sane person on the whole damn island.

"What does all this talk about slavery mean? And where are the lawyers to take our depositions and deal with this whole inheritance claim?"

She gives me that same strange cryptic glance, passing through the emotions and ending once again on pity before answering me in her strangely unplaceable accent

I clam up on the way up the hill, speaking only to Luisa or anyone else when I am specifically asked a question. The rocky path hurts my bare feet. The breeze, comfortable when dressed even in light clothes, chills me now that I am a naked slave. I take comfort in watching Sillitta's bare ass in front of me. It looks so hot, so tight, and I think I take a little bit of pleasure in knowing that I am not the only one in the group getting goosebumps from the chill wind.

I returned to the underhalls the next morning to find a gaping hole where the heavy door used to be. It was blown to pieces; Marigay must have been packing explosives with her, giving great insight into how prepared she continually was. To be honest, it kind of scares me. I mean, who brings explosives around with them wherever they go?

By the time I returned to my room and took my daily stroll throughout the island, another guest had arrived. Another small woman, being escorted up towards the manor by Luisa, Sillitta, and... Jason? The little punk had already been enslaved?

What a moron. Hopefully the new girl matches his intellect.

I exit out to greet them, making sure to check out the new girl thoroughly before leading them back into the manor. Only a few more hours until the feast begins.

(OOC- collared_kitten75: Masters do not bother to look slaves in the face! They are interchangable anyway, in their outlook; they would not pay any attention to who it is; collar and naked = slave.)

I check the sun... it's getting on past lunchtime, best start heading for the Manor House. I come upon a knoll, and make my way through the high grass towards the top, to search for landmarks. The House is not far ahead, so I am on track to get there in time to freshen up for the formal dinner tonight.

I glance around with the goggles... no tunnel exits but there is a cave! A quick check and I'm inside the rock; apparently it runs back about 100 meters and dead-ends there. The floor is hard-tamped; it has seen its share of traffic over the years, animal and human. There were some small piles of things here and there; bone piles, mostly, but also a fair-sized cairn of small rocks. I don't have time to investigate it today, but mark it down on my map for further searching. Back into the sun, and a chill wind blows off the sea, blasting me to the bone, it seems.

Moving quickly is the order of the day now; I have to rush through the undergrowth and rough forest to get back on time. Moving into the kitchen, I see two slaves, a collared man and sexy little dark-haired girl working on kitchen chores. I do a double-take at the man; it's JASON! One competitor gone already? SOMEbody was working fast.

"Jason! You are a slave now? Who collared you?"

He gives me a withering glance before responding.

Michael is the last to come and greet Melissa. He leads her back to the manor.
He stares wide-eyed at Jason. Heck, Michael, some of us are actually doing something, not just run around aimlessly in some tunnels, I want to tell him. But then again, why should I tell him anything. Jason's out of the game already, and although I'm not exactly proud of my deed every heir less is a step closer to victory.
On the way up he kept throwing accusations at me. I remained completely calm, to my own surprise. "Jason, you knew what was at stake. You knew the rules. You fucked up, now you are enslaved. That's it. And you won't go back to Kentucky. Ever. But, you know, when I become the new Mistress of this island, you will likely get to fuck my pussy quite often. If I'm 'aving a very good day it might even be my asshole. What do you think would 'appen to you if Marigay or Michael are your Master? Do you think you'll enjoy that? So, think about it."
It seemed as if he finally realized his fate. At least he was silent for the rest of the way, hopefully thinking about my words.
"Sillitta, please bring us some breakfast, I could do with a strong coffee and some croissants."
I follow her to the kitchen and use the time until she has the coffee ready to have a talk with her. She's a bright girl, luckily. And she knows Michael all too well. So I don't have too much troubles to convince her of my plan.
We return to the dining room. Only Melissa is present, Jason must have left to haul her luggage to her room.
I sit down beside Melissa and while we eat the croissants and drink the coffee I tell her about the island.
She's shocked. And then she silently starts to sob. I put my arm around her, consoling her. And admire her boobs, of course. Once in a while images of Melissa, Sillitta and Jason, all totally naked and pleasing me, flash through my head. There's definitely worse scenarios I could think of.

On returning to the mansion, I get my first real taste of life as a slave. It is definitely not all fucking and frolicking. If Luisa wins, it sounds as if there might be some of that for me at least, but for now there is work.

Luisa and Melissa settle into comfortable chairs in the dining room, dispatching Sillitta to prepare a light breakfast for the two of them. I notice that Luisa is keeping a pretty tight watch on Sillitta; she probably plans to use her against Michael in some fashion. I personally just hope that I get another shot at a threesome with the two of them. I wonder if sex will be any different as a slave. I guess time will tell.

I stash Melissa's backpack in an empty guest room, and start to return to the kitchen when a though crosses my mind. Luisa, Mistress Luisa, might want to know what the girl has brought with her. I turn back and risk a quick look through the bag. Clothes, personal effects and hygeine products, just what you would expect from a vacationer. Good lord, this girl is more poorly prepared than I was. No sign of a key either. She probably has it on her. Still, I suspect she's in trouble. I pack Melissa's belongings neatly back into her pack and return downstairs.

With a glance, Luisa, Mistress Luisa, redirects me to the kitchen where Sillitta enlists my aid in serving breakfast. "Jason, grab that tray," she points to a tray bearing coffee cups and a pitcher, "and follow me. Also, Jason, you need to start learning Italian, French too." I just nod and follow the small, dark girl out to the dining room. She places croissants in front of Luisa and Melissa, then sets a server's stand in front of me. I place the tray on the server's stand, set coffee cups in front of teh two women, and fill them, Luisa's first, then Melissa's. I am acutely aware of my nakedness, especially my cock which is almost perfectly at eye level of the two seated women. Neither says anything about it though, and I remain quiet as well.

Luisa motions Sillitta and I back to the kitchen. There's little to be done so far as I know, so I mostly stand there dumbly. Sillitta busies herself with little tasks that keep teh kitchen clean. She is just handing me a full trash bag, presumably for me to take out, when Marigay bursts in through the kitchen entrance. "Jason! You are a slave now? Who collared you?" she asks bluntly.

I look at Marigay, confused for a few seconds before I answer. "Uh, ah, Luisa, Mistress Luisa," I say, the word mistress very foreuign to my tongue, Mistress Luisa collared me."

I look down at the floor, at my bare feet, my naked body, my cock exposed for everyone to see. "Can I get you soem breakfast Mistress Marigay?" I finally ask.

Marigay comes into the dining room, acknowledging our presence with a nod and followed by Jason who is carrying a tray. She sits down at the far end of the table. Once Melissa stops sobbing, I tell Jason to show her to her room. As soon as they leave I get up and walk over to Marigay.
"Bon appetit! Do you mind me sitting down for a minute, cousin?"
"Have a seat, Luisa."
"Ok, I make it short. I want to win this game. Very much so. And so do you. And I guess you want just as much to be Michael's slave as I do. So 'ow about we make some kinda truce, do Michael in and then it's for the better of us two win the game?"
"Aren't you forgetting someone?"
"You mean Melissa? Aww, poor girl. She doesn't 'ave the slightest idea what she's gotten 'erself into. No, to be 'onest, I think she isn't much of a competitor. Well, think about my idea. Till later. Ciao for now."

After making sure that Marigay is seated and has both food and drink before her, I am dismissed by Luisa to show Melissa to her room. It strikes me as funny that Melissa was also essentially dismissed by Luisa as well, so that she could talk privately with Marigay.

As Melissa and I make our way up the steps, me a half-step behind, but still directing her, I decide to chat the girl up. "So, um, Melissa is it? Or should I address you as Mistress? What do you suppose those two are talking about?"

Eventually, we make our way to the room where I had earlier stored her pack. I open the door to allow Melissa to enter. "So, ah, will you be needing anything else at the moment?"

I am surprised, and a little saddened, by how quickly I have slipped into the role of a slave.

Fully aware that dinner is only a few hours away, I allow Jason to carry a small plate with a few bites into the Dining Room for me, as well as a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice which I watched him make. He also brought a sealed bottle of water... but it had a tiny hole near the screw-cap, so I left it untouched.

A short chat with Luisa after Melissa and Jason leave the room leads to an offer of partnership for the purpose of defeating Michael. I give a non-committal answer, as I wish to wait until the actual starting of the contest at dinner today. The fight will be terrific, challenging, and strategic; while a temporary partnership may be fun, I'm looking at the final victory. Seeing my four adversaries bent before me, especially the uppity Michael... well the imagination boggles at the thought. Picturing Jason buggering Michael or Luisa munching Melissa's rug made my crotch wet and deepened my breathing.

I finished with my snack, then headed upstairs, passing Jason. I heard Melissa crying, and stopped by her slightly-ajar door.

"Melissa? Do you need a friend, dear girl?" I turn on my 'Zealander' accent, which should be a touch from home for the girl. Indeed, she rises from her chair and runs to me. I take her in and hug her closely.

I sit down on the couch, pulling her along with me. She lays her head on my shoulder.

"Dear girl; I'm from your part of the world, and wish you no harm. If I may suggest, just relax and clean up from your long trip today. At the banquet this evening, there will be much information to be shared, and may just be a way out of trouble for you! One never knows, right?"

She turns her tearful face up towards me for the first time. I wait for the sobs to stop, listening if she has anything to say for herself.

When Marigay leaves i head for the kitchen. Jason and Sillitta aren't alone anymore. Several other servants are by now busy with preparations for the big dinner.
"Sillitta, vieni con me per un attimo, per favore." She smiles when I address her in her mother tongue and follows me. Jason just stares at me, with a mixture of hostility, defeat and lust. "Want to come too or are you too busy chopping onions?"
One of the doors to a guestroom is open. I glance inside and when I see Marigay consoling Melissa I cannot help but think of a Boa coiling itself around a rabbit. Poor girl, I'm really sorry for her.
In my room I give Sillitta the powder and explain to her in Italian how to use itl while i start to undress. It's a rather strong barbiturate. Jason stands there, leering at us. "Would you mind 'elping me to scrub my back in the shower?"

'This slave stuff is starting to get old,' I think as I stand there in the kitchen, naked, chopping onions. Sillitta too is busy with a similar chore. At least I get to watch her work naked as well. She's cute, and I periodically catch her stealing a glance at me and grinning. Still, the whole situation was more to my liking when I was wearing clothes.

I'm surprised, pleasantly so, to see Luisa return to the kitchens. I must admit though that my heart dropped a little when she ignored me to speak to Sillitta in Italian, at least I assume it's Italian. My spirits, and my cock, rise when Luisa invites me along on whatever bit of mischief the two are planning.

Back in Luisa's room, I see Luisa sharing a bit of some powder with my fellow slave. It kind of looks like cocaine, but they don't snort it. I can only imagine that it will be used in the coming competition. I'm temporarily wracked by shame. 'Man, I didn't even make it to the start of the competition. I wonder if I'll get to eat any of the feast at least?'

I snap out of my thoughts when Luisa asks me to wash her back. "Gladly Mistress," I answer as I follow her to the bathroom.

Luisa dispenses me to the bathroom a few moments before she is actually ready for the shower. I set the water to running, giving it time to reach an adequately warm temperature. I carefully set aside towels for both of us and a washcloth for her. I check to make sure that there is shampoo, conditioner, and body wash present.

Luisa joins me moments later, and I usher her into the shower, following closely behind her. Luisa's body never fails to impress me, and I relsih the opportunity to touch her. As warm water rushes down her body, I begin to soap her back. Before long, my hands slip around, so that I am also soaping her tight abdoment and firm breasts.

With a mond of its own, my cock rises to the occassion, brushing against her buttocks. 'Would it be appropriate for a slave to take his mistress from behind, anally?' I wonder.