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

[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.

[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

[lucy]

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?"

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[lucy]

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?"

[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!

[his_girl_l]

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

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[Chuckdom19]

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?

[collared_kitten75]

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

[his_girl_l]

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

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[Razor7826]

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.

[Chuckdom19]

(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.)

[Chuckdom19]

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.

[lucy]

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.

[collared_kitten75]

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.

[his_girl_l]

OOC: i've had a sick child. so sorry about holding everyone up

[his_girl_l]

After Marigay leaves my room i cry throw myself onto the bed and cry. I can't believe the situation i have found myself in. I have either been misled or incredibly naive. But is it naive to go on a holiday not expecting to be tricked into slavery?

All the other "cousins" as they call themselves seem to have known what to expect. Evenpoor hapless Jason seems to have known the deal, much good that it did him.

And although both the girls have been kind, i could see as they explained the situation to me that they were thinking of me as a slave, just one they hadn't bothered about capturing yet, because i was obviously no threat. I could see the contempt in their eyes.

Michael, on the other hand, had been polite, if a little impersonal. I hadn't got the feeling he was just waiting for the right moment to draw me into whatever sick game they were playing here. And he had grown up on the island, with his grandfather. Surely if anyone could help me escape from these two women, with their caressing voices, soothing sweet patronising words while their eyes evaluated me as a piece of property, it was him.

I dry my face, brush my hair and fix my make up and set out to find Michael.

If i can't convince him to help him i don't see how i'll be able to leave the island before my boat returns for me in 10 days. And i am sure that by then it would be far far too late.

[Chuckdom19]

Melissa took a look and retreated, as she was looking for Michael... whom she would not find here for at least a few hours! I chuckled to myself. He would make such a nice pony slave, pulling my cart around the island.

Closing the door, Ellen returned to assist me leaving the tub. She was most efficient drying me and she used Derek's help in getting me dressed and made up for the banquet. I grabbed several handy little things from the trunk, and reset the multiple traps.

In the hall, I ran into Melissa and invited her to join us at the banquet where she would have more answers and be able to clear many of the questions from her mind. She walked with me, looking harried and anxious.

As we enter the dining room, Luisa makes a nasty remark about Melissa and me. She gets a withering glance as my only response, and Melissa starts crying again.

I take the seat at the foot of the table after walking around it and seeing Jason playing with Luisa's feet. Some people really have strange desires!
Luisa looks at where I sit and laughs derisively. I smile at her, and obviously take a number of pills.

"Just a number of anti-drug agents my father and his scientists developed." A slight panic flies across her face and disappears just as quickly. "Does that bother you, dear? I'm sorry I only have enough for one. Has anyone seen Michael? For being the dinner host he certainly is treating we cousins poorly. Perhaps living as a Master so long with poor sickly grandfather has eroded his social abilities."

Melissa sat down between Michael's head chair and me. She sat quietly, even after I offered her some small conversation, asking her questions about her employment, marital status, and home.

[lucy]

Marigay is definitely well prepared. Anti-drug agents. My ass.
"Nah, it does not worry me. I 'ave nothing to 'ide. I don't even 'ave a trunk full of gimmicks and whatnots. And i am not trying to seduce and smalltalk a 'elpless girl into slavery, i openly fucked and drugged Jason into it, hehehe."
Jason looks at me with a hurt look on his face, while Melissa sobs even harder, moving a bit away from Marigay. She really shouldn't be here, i'm truly sorry for her. On the other hand, she IS a beautiful girl. And i'm the last one to forego a beautiful girl.

"Manaccia la miseria, I ain't gonna sit here and wait till Michael shows up. If he comes, you just start, I will be back in about half an hour." Not that anyone cares, I think. "Thanks, Jason, that was a perfect massage."

I once again go to the kitchen. A servant points out the shed behind the manor. I find what i'm looking for and fill several big bellied Chianti bottles with gasoline, tear apart a couple of rags and in no time I have a neat stash of Molotov cocktails. You never know when things get out of hand.
I fill yet another bottle and head up to my room, depositing it in the bathroom.

Then i check Melissa's room and luggage, but she definitely is just a backpacker, she carries nothing special in her backpack. Poor gal.
It's almost three quarters of an hour since i left when i get back to the dinner room. And Michael is just arriving too.
He gives us a lecture of the rules. Yaaaawwwwn.
The only interesting thing in the whole room is Melissa's expression: It changes from worried to incredoulous to desperate.

[Chuckdom19]

Not surprised at Michael's words or at Luisa's coming and going, I am filled with excitement about what may start happening at midnight. Perfect timing for one of my already-set traps.

"Michael", I ask in a purring voice, "is the enslavement of Jason proper according to the rules, then? Since nothing was to begin before midnight, as was in the information sent by the lawyers, I believed that to be improper."
Or the rest of you would already be slaves, I thought to myself.

Jason's head whipped around to look at me, eyes full of questions and what looked like appreciation. "Not proper? You mean I may not be a slave after all? Michael, what about that??"

I smiled tightly, and awaited his response. Nothing like stirring a little dissent among the cousins... and possibly making an ally!

"Well, Michael?"

[lucy]

"No need to answer, Michael". I get up, walk over to Jason and remove the collar with the key around my neck.
"I loved the fucking, I really did. And I am sorry if I made a mistake."
I smile at Marigay. "Thanks for pointing out my error."

[Razor7826]

They are all gathered in the banquet hall when I enter, my three distant cousins sitting at the table, near the head but obviously reserving it for me. They all look at me, seemingly eager to hear what I have to say. Should I say it before or after they eat? It doesn't matter to me-- I'm passing on this meal, as I intend on doing until the game is finished. Everybody always springs for the poisons, it seems, or at least that's how the island legends go. No, I have my own stockpile hidden away under lock and key. Nobody can find it, let alone access it to poison it.

"Welcome, everyone, to the beginning of our fair little game. As you know, I was born and raised on this island, and as its most senior resident I have been given the responsibility of telling the tale that led us here today.

Hundreds of years ago, our mutual ancestor, Roland Witherborn, accumulated a vast fortune through means that have been lost to time. At the time of his passing, no clear heir was named, and a feud broke out between his seventeen children, each wanting a dominating share so that they could be crowned lord of his heavenly island.

However, there was a problem. The sons and daughters were born of many whores and wives from around the world, each having been raised with different customs and beliefs as to who inherits their parents wealth. Some said seniority, some said ability, while still others proposed a simple challenge.

Of all those proceedures, only one was 'fair', and that was a game. The winner would be crowned lord of the island and heir of both the family name and wealth, while the losers would remain here forever to serve the new lord's empire. Those that disagreed with those terms were allowed to leave, taking only a pittance to establish themselves on the mainland.

Rules were agreed upon, signed by all seventeen and set as the rules for any future conflicts inside the family. Those rules were written as such:

1) All slaves must follow the Master’s every command, and he or she may use any force necessary to bring the slaves in line.

2) Murder or life-threatening force against any heir of Witherborn is strictly forbidden, and is grounds for immediate banishment from the island and forfeiture of all its wealth.

3) A Master may name his successor to take over the island and its wealth. If no successor has been named at the time of his passing, then the title will become open to all living descendents of Roland Witherborn.

4) The Ritual of Domination may strip any heir of all rights and brand them a slave for life. The ritual may only be performed by another heir, and is as simple as adorning the target with a slave’s collar. If the collar remains in place for seventeen consecutive hours, the ritual is complete, removing all protections granted upon them by these sacred laws.

5) During a time of contested inheritance, an heir may claim the title of Master by presenting the Chalice of Witherborn, hidden somewhere on the island.

These are the rules, and once the clocks strike midnight hours after this feast, the games begin. We've each been given a key that will unlock the hidden entrance to where the chalice is kept, but victory can also come through utter domination.

Now, I'll let you digest the rules... as well as your food."


I sit down in the chair and wait eagerly for their respones and reactions. Midnight is still five hours away, so there is still more to the night before the game truly begins.

My special maid smiles at me from the group that serves the table, but I do not react at all. She is my secret weapon, but not my only chance of victory.

[Razor7826]

"It's improper, but for the necessary duration rather than time frame. An heir may willingly submit at any time."