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

[Chuckdom19]

I join the rest in the parlor, waiting on the dinner bell. Checking my watch and the level of the sun, I surmise that the island uses Greenwich time. A glance at the massive wooden clock standing along one wall verifies it for me.

The wait for dinner seemed interminable: I kept busy with some of the old tomes on the shelves of the room, and stoking up the fireplace for the chill of the late afternoon. One of the servants seemed miffed that I had done so; she positively sniffed when she caught sight of me poking at the growing fire.

"Madam, please allow the staff to maintain the premises." She looked me in the eye, with a withering gaze.

"Listen, slave, I'm doing something I enjoy, and you weren't around. Why are you getting your panties in a bunch about it?" Little brat needed correcting and an attitude adjustment. I started her down after a few seconds, she mumbled an apology and curtseyed to me before returning to whatever she was doing.

Looking at my competitors made me half laugh inside. I hope they all brought along enough weaponry and such; if not, they were unlikely to last out the week. Michael was haughty and acted as though he had already won. Jason was a weakling and a poorly-trained or inexperienced thief. And now Luisa; a pretty little girl with a rough edge. It seemed likely she'd been knocked around some, and that she was, now what was that quaint American term? Ah, yes; "rode hard and put away wet." If she hadn't already killed, she would be trying soon. Hmmm... she might just have the potential to be a partner to start with. I was not about to be a slave for Jason or Michael, or for Luisa, either, for that matter. I had managed to lay some of the catalyst on both sides of her hand and on her neck; it was now coursing through her blood system, as it was with the three others.

The wooden rocker seemed the safest chair in the room; any of the overstuffed chairs or sofas could easily hide restraint devices. Better to establish this chair as "mine" for the duration. Safety first.

[lucy]

I give Michael and the redhead a quick glance and tell them that I'll be back with them in no time and follow Jason up the stairs to my room. On the way up I decide that for the time being Marigay is the one to watch out for. That's one sneaky bitch, I reckon. I sniffed some peculiar smell when she greeted me. Dunno what it is, but I'll have to be careful with her.
Michael is so full of himself, he'll bring himself down without much outside help. Jason? Hmmm. Maybe I should give him a taste of my pussy and see what happens? He seems to be one of those guys who forget everything and do anything, once their cock is inside a pussy.

The room is rather large, and so is the bed in the middle. Jason puts the bag down beside the bed and turns around. I walk past him, shedding my t-shirt and unbuttoning my jeans.
"Thank you, Jason."
Without taking further notice of Jason I drop the jeans, bend over, open my bag and search for some clean clothes. I take it the fact that I don't wear panties didn't escape his attention.
When I finally stand up again and turn around to face him, he's still staring at me. „Do you think they can wait with supper for another quarter of an hour, Jason?“


OOC and just out of couriousity, what's the meaning of "rode hard and put away wet?"

[collared_kitten75]

As Luisa strips before me, my eyes bulge. "Wel alriiiiiiiiight," I say, starting to drop my own pants to reveal neatly trimmed pubic hair and a long, slender cock that was already starting to point Luisa's direction.

"No, I don't think they'll miss us at all, and I KNOW you don't want to miss this," I say, further enticing my cock with a few quick strokes as I move towards the girl. "I just knew we were going to get a long when I first saw you."

I slowly back Luisa toward the bed, and when the backs of her legs brush agaist it, I push her down and prepare to mount her.

[collared_kitten75]

OOC it means that you have been used up physically or sexually.

[Chuckdom19]

The slightly snooty servant came into the parlor and announced the service of the meal. As I rose, Michael came in walked through to the dining area ahead of me. I sized him up from behind... ummm, nice behind! I wondered how good it would look bent over a horse getting caned? He'd likely whine and carry on; he had already impressed me as being that kind of person. No, he would not be easy to defeat, nor would he be a good loser.

As we sat, I attempted to start a conversation. "Michael? How long have you lived here on the island?"

The others had not yet arrived to eat, but I opened my (sealed) water and served myself from the community soup tureen. Michael did as well, and i hesitated just long enough to make sure he ate some as well. And did so first.

[lucy]

Oh, yeah, how could I ever live on without having his cock inside me...
Guys... They are so predictable. I'd have waged my left hand that he would fall for my pussy.
However, laughing out loud at his insinuation wouldn’t probably help me getting him were I want him. So I don’t say anything at all but just get hold of his dick. Stroking it I’m pulling him towards me, my legs spread wide. My other hand is playing with my pussy. After all I don’t want him to fuck my „fica seca“.
It doesn’t take him too long to cum, fortunately. I don’t know if he really believes I came too, but then again he seems to be too preoccupied with himself and he very likely doesn’t give a damn anyway. And neither do I.
„That was good, Jason. A good fucking was exactly what I needed. We should do that again when we 'ave more time at 'and.“ I kiss him on the mouth, roll out from under him and head for the bathroom, feeling his eyes on my ass.

The ice cold water hits my face and shoulders and I scrub myself thouroughly. When I step out of the bathroom, refreshed and smelling of soap, Jason has left. The fucking has left me hungrier than i was before. Better hurry up before they have eaten everything.

I don a pair of short jeans and a tank top and head for the dining room. Michael and Marigay are spooning soup. Soup? Damn. How about a steak? I had hoped for some large peace of beef like they serve you in Argentina, almost raw, the blood oozing when you cut off a slice. But ok, well, soup it is.
Jason hasn’t arrived yet.

„Bon appetit, Marigay and Michael. Now tell me, 'ow is life?“ Fucking rotten, I hope, if not now than pretty soon. And judging by their stares that’s pretty exactly what they hope for me too.

[Razor7826]

"All my life," I answered. She was clearly prying me for information, but there wasn't much of a point in telling all lies. Throw her a few morsels of truth so the rest seems more believable. "I never got along with my family, unfortunately. Grandfather was a mean old bastard. Never said I kind word to me in his life."

I pour Marigay a drink. "It's a good year. Please, have a little." I take a sip of it first, but not much. No point in wasting my senses, even if the ceremony doesn't start until tomorrow afternoon. "So what makes you think you deserve this island?"

[lucy]

The shithead doesn't even bother to offer me a drink. But that's fine with me. Suits me perfectly if he thinks I'm not enough of a competition to acknowledge my presence at the table.
Too bad I didn't get Marigays question. "All my life"-what? But hey, you certainly can't blame his grandfather for not saying a nice word to him. I wouldn't have either.
So, he lived on this island all his life? Or tried to get rid of his grandfather all his life? Or did he just say that he was always such a haughty asshole? Whatever, first things first and now it's time to eat. I wolf down a bowl of soup, help myself to another and wait for them to pick up their conversation.

[Razor7826]

Luisa soon arrived at the table and pushed some meaingless small talk. "Life's good. And yours?" None of that matters any more. Three of ours aren't going to be 'good' or anything else but miserable for much longer. It's all a stupid little game that grandfather pushed me in to. I cursed his name in my mind but continued to smile whilst spooning the soup into my mouth bit by bit.

They're both eyeing me suspiciously, but I can understand why. Both of them clearly know the rules of this game-- they're not on the island as dumb tourists. They understand the risks and everything there is to gain.

It's my job to make sure that they learn nothing. My key is already hidden away carefully so these thieves can't steal it and end our game early. No, it's me versus them, but I have the home field advantage. Nobody knows this place like I do, not my family, not the slaves, and certainly not these filthy interlopers. They'll be mine, soon, and I look forward to disgracing their minds and bodies.

[Chuckdom19]

'All his life', eh? So he has home-field-advantage; and my goal must be exploration of the tunnels and elsewhere. A home this old, with all the mystery that such succession of ownership entailed, had to have many surprises. I was going to discover them! Tonight and tomorrow would be spent exploring the island and buildings. And meeting potential allies.

Luisa finally joined us at the table; she was obviously disappointed at the first course of dinner. DId she believe that this soup appetizer was the entire dinner? Perhaps so. But I was looking forward to the next course, hopefully a beef or pork roast of some kind.

As Luisa started to eat, she began to make some small talk; I responded brightly to her words, as I listened to all her answers. They would assist in giving a read on her personality.

Her lateness to dinner could have had many causes, but Jason missing as well gave some kind of hint. His obvious immaturity and the view of his face when he met the young woman told much about him. He was clearly a youngster who was thinking with his little head, thinking his cock could conquer. He would clearly learn differently over the next days, and I did not expect him to last even a few days.

The wine Michael offered was fair, not a bad year, but obviously had not been well-stored; the flavor suffered from being overly-cooled in storage. I think I'll check into the cellars later as to why. The boorish host didn't bother to offer any wine to Luisa; this was a poorly thought-out move. He was making her angry.

The cook came in shortly, bearing a domed serving plate. Once on the table, she removed the lid to expose a lovely lamb roast, fragrant with warm mint jelly. She carved the roast, and offered a thick slice to Michael, then served me and Luisa. Sampling the meat, I welcomed the pleasure across my palate. Properly seasoned and cooked, it was excellent.

Passing on dessert, I gave my regards to my opponents. I had much to do this evening and tomorrow, and was going to be dressed for getting "down and dirty" tonight.

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[Razor7826]

"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.

[collared_kitten75]

"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?"

[Chuckdom19]

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.

[lucy]

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.

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[lucy]

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.“

[Razor7826]

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.

[collared_kitten75]

'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?"

[Chuckdom19]

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?"

[Razor7826]

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.

[Chuckdom19]

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.

[lucy]

"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.

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[lucy]

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.

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[his_girl_l]

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.

[collared_kitten75]

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

[his_girl_l]

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

[Razor7826]

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!