H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 1: Introduction and Arrival

A vacation on a tropical cruise ship sounded like a great idea to me! And even more so when my Mistress added, "As well as swimming, sunbathing and visiting some islands, we could have some fun by ourselves in the evenings, because I'll book us into a private stateroom!" It was this "fun by ourselves" that really excited me -- as her bondage slave (and loving it!), I needed little imagination to know exactly what she meant!

The first two and a half days of the cruise were very enjoyable. The ship was not a large one and the other passengers were good company. During the day we swam, sunbathed, played deck games and just lounged about with everyone else; but at night my Mistress and I retired early to our cabin, where she made me strip naked and submit to tight bondage (she used the chairs, tables and other furniture very imaginatively!). Of course, I also spent considerable periods with my face between her legs and my tongue working hard on her clit to give her the pleasure she demanded from her slave. She disciplined me less than usual because (she said) "I've only your bum to work on. You're wearing a swimsuit so much of the time, and we don't want the marks to show, do we?"

A few other couples, I noticed, tended to retire when we did -- or even earlier; I decided that they were probably honeymooners or other new lovers. Nobody seemed to mind us leaving the parties and other activities, but I wondered whether people thought we were honeymooners too -- how wrong they would be! Sometimes I did get a strange feeling that the other passengers knew what my Mistress and I were doing ... but I reassured myself that this was a self-conscious reaction, a sort of 'guilt complex'.

Our first island stop was scheduled for late on the third evening, and my Mistress took me to our cabin immediately after dinner because she had arranged to break the cruise here, to be picked up again after a few days. I packed a bag for each of us, and then my Mistress said, "We won't be docking for a little while yet; how about a last bit of bondage? We might not have as much opportunity for the next few days."

I agreed willingly, and soon my wrists were strapped palm-to-palm behind me and another strap was tight and uncomfortable around my elbows. In my mouth was a gag and protruding from it was a large dildo; I was kneeling between my Mistress' legs, the dildo was deep inside her and the tip of my nose was moving gently on her clit.

I was still there when I felt the ship stop and heard the announcement for disembarking passengers. My Mistress withdrew herself from the dildo and detached it from the gag ... and then (with a strange glint in her eye!) she held up a large leather blindfold! I made noises of protest behind my gag -- she should have been untying me to get dressed! -- but I was totally helpless to resist having the blindfold securely fastened over my eyes. Now her hands went to my cock; I felt them tying a cord snugly around its base, then there was a tug on it and her voice said, "OK, up on your feet ... let's go!"

I couldn't believe what was happening, but I could do absolutely nothing about it. My legs were free but, totally unable to see and with my hands securely bound, running away was out of the question ... and in any case the insistent tug on my cock was somewhat difficult to resist! I became aware of the sea breeze on my naked body, then of walking carefully down what felt like a gangplank. I hoped it was covered, but suddenly I realised that there were other people moving along it too!

As we reached a flat solid floor, there seemed to be even more people around us and a female voice (very close by) said excitedly, "Oh look! He's quite naked ... and his arms are tied! Is he a slave or something?!" I could feel my face turning bright red with embarrassment, but at the same time my cock grew harder with a strange sort of excitement!

Suddenly my Mistress stopped me and a voice asked her for her passport! My mind boggled at the idea that we were in a real immigration office, and I hardly heard her answer to that and the next few questions. But I became fully aware when, in answer to the question, "Are you travelling alone?" she replied calmly, "Yes, accompanied by my personal slave here"! With a growing sense of unreality I heard every word of the ensuing conversation.

Official: "You are not importing him?"

My Mistress: "What do you mean?"

Official: "Well, if you are importing him, you must have the approval documents and pay the import duty."

My Mistress: "No, he's simply accompanying me on my vacation."

Official: "Then you must deposit a bond equal to your slave's likely value on the black market. We don't want vacationers bringing slaves in, selling them through some unlicenced dealer, and just walking away with all the profits."

My Mistress: "Well, if you must ... what would my slave be worth?"

Now followed yet further humiliation for me; I had to stand there, dumb and blind, while strange hands 'inspected' me! My helpless naked body was prodded and pinched, my nipples were squeezed and even my cock and balls were fondled! A second person was called to give an opinion and the process was repeated by smaller hands, obviously a woman's. My Mistress was asked if she had a photograph of my face and finally a verdict was passed: "Without actually seeing his face, ma'am, we would value your slave at about two thousand dollars". The exchange continued ...

My Mistress (audibly incredulous): "What? I can't spare that much cash!"

Official: "I'm sorry, but rules are rules, you know. Your slave will have to stay here until you leave the island ... or until you can have the money sent from your bank perhaps? If you need a slave during your visit, we can recommend a slave hire service."

My Mistress argued for a while, but to no avail; at last she conceded, "OK, if that's the way it has to be. I do have the name of someone on the island who may be kind enough to lend me the money. If I can arrange this, when can I collect my slave?"

"Tomorrow after 10 a.m.," was the reply. "We'll be closing soon for the night. And don't worry, ma'am, we'll look after your slave!" The voice sounded sincere enough (I had no way of knowing whether my Mistress was reassured) but I was certainly worried as I was led away. Without her (whom I had always trusted not to let anything really bad happen to me) I might be on my way to real slavery, and I was utterly helpless to prevent it! In fact, I was so confused that it was the middle of the night before I realised that she hadn't even tried to reassure me!

After a short walk my blindfold was removed and, looking around, I found myself in a small room containing little more than a bed. Two people were with me, a man and a woman, both black and wearing smart uniforms. The man said, "Now, slave, we don't want your stay here to be any more uncomfortable than necessary, so we'll remove your gag if you promise not to make any noise or waste your breath asking questions. Nod if you agree ... and remember, there are two of us and it'll be easy to put the gag back if you reneg!"

I thought for a moment, but obviously I had no choice, so I nodded. The woman removed my gag and they both waited, clearly wondering whether I would keep my word. When I said quietly, "Thank you -- my jaws were getting pretty stiff," the man smiled and said, "I'm glad you're going to co-operate. As a reward, we'll make you a bit more comfortable."

My tight arm straps were replaced with relatively comfortable wrist cuffs joined by a short chain, but any ideas of escape were dashed by a very heavy chain connecting one of my ankles to a ring in the floor! The 'warders' left, locking the 'cell' door behind them. The strange surroundings, plus the chain keeping my wrists behind me, made it difficult to sleep, but finally weariness overtook me and I dozed off.

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I was woken quite early the next morning by the 'wardress' unlocking the door and saying, "OK slave, wake up! Here's your breakfast ... but first," she continued with a grin, "you'll have to earn it! On your knees here by the bed!" I obeyed, wondering what was expected of me, but when she sat on the bed in front of me and raised her skirt it wasn't hard to guess!

She wasn't wearing panties and soon my mouth was buried in the dark thatch of her pussy. I had never given head to a black woman before and I found it very exciting; my enthusiasm helped my 'wardress' to two climaxes before she pushed me away, saying, "Very good, slave -- you've certainly earned your breakfast!"

After breakfast I was left alone for some hours, enough time to wonder what my Mistress was doing and to get quite worried about whether I would ever get out of this cell. When at last my warders returned, I was ready to start asking some questions; but they gave me no chance and gagged me again, saying, "Your Mistress is coming to collect you soon, but she wants the gag in -- she says you're a talker if you get half a chance!"

A few minutes later -- to my great relief -- in walked my Mistress, smiling cheerfully, and said, "Hello slave, I hope you're pleased to see me!" and added to the warders, "Now, where's this security gadget you've been talking about?"

What they showed her was a queerly-shaped padlock of very heavy metal, which they fitted round my scrotum just above my balls. It clicked shut solidly, the wardress took two keys from it and handed one to my Mistress, saying, "It can't be removed, you see, because his balls won't fit through the hole, and it's made of extremely hard metal that's almost impossible to cut. And both these keys are needed to open it ... which protects both you and us."

The arrangements appeared to be complete, and my Mistress led me out of my temporary prison, but not before she put my blindfold on again: "I don't want you to see everything -- not just yet, anyway." She helped me into a car and, as we drove off, she continued, "I'm taking you to the lady who very kindly lent me the money for your bond. You didn't know you were so valuable, did you? Now, I want you on your best behaviour for her; remember where you would still be if she hadn't been so kind!"

I took her point and decided that my complaints could wait until a more opportune moment. The lady -- whom my Mistress introduced as "Mistress Anne" -- took some time to inspect me very closely. I did my best to co-operate, standing to attention and posing in other ways while she stroked and prodded my naked body. She fondled my cock until it was fully erect and I almost came, twisted and pinched my nipples with her nails until my eyes watered, and struck me several times with a light whip ("... to see how his skin marks").

Finally she turned to my Mistress and said, "Well, I'd say that the valuation is a fair one. And I propose to forget about any interest on my loan, if you will just loan me your slave for one evening.... Good," she continued after my Mistress agreed readily, "it will be nice to get my hands on some new slave-flesh for a change. The importation policy makes it hard to get new slaves, but I think that all-in-all it's a good policy; without it, we'd be sure to have a glut!"

Shortly after this we left and got into the car again; my eyes were again blindfolded, but when we reached our destination it wasn't hard to guess where we were -- a busy hotel foyer! My Mistress asked for her room key, and a cheerful female voice replied, "Yes, ma'am. I see you have your slave with you now -- do you want him taken down to the slave quarters?"

My mind was getting used to surprises, but I was still wondering what sort of place this was! To my relief, my Mistress replied, "No thanks -- not yet. I'll take him to my room for the moment." A few minutes later a door closed behind us and my Mistress removed my blindfold; then she said, "Now, I'll take the gag out if you promise not to make a fuss. Then I'll tell you a bit about the week we'll be spending here and maybe answer some questions ... but let me make one thing clear: we WILL be spending a week here, even if you have to be gagged and shackled the whole time!"

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 2: Objections and Acceptance.

What choice did I have? I knew that tone of voice, and nothing would change my Mistress' mind -- unless I said that I wanted to stop being her slave ... permanently!

I did consider that for a moment, but at the same time I was very curious about this place ... and when I really thought about it, I had always been able to trust her before. So I nodded and she removed the gag.

She told me a little about the island; it was privately owned (she said) but had about 5,000 people living on it, all of whom had formally agreed to the rules laid down by the owners. Slavery was permitted here but all the slaves, who had to be registered, could "opt out" if they wanted to. She had known about the island when she planned our holiday, and had decided to play the trick on me of bringing me blindfolded and naked into the immigration offices; but she hadn't known about the bond on visiting slaves!

"If I had known," she went on, "I'd have brought more money -- but I doubt if I would have guessed your value! Will you forgive me for leaving you to spend a night in that detention centre?"

I did forgive her, quite readily -- after all, I hadn't been hurt and it was too late to change things now. But when I began to ask for more details about what she was planning for us, she began to evade my questions or to answer with "Let's keep that a bit of a surprise, shall we? Trust me."

A little annoyed at her secretiveness, but without any real complaints at her treatment of me, I stopped asking questions. "OK then," she said brightly, "let's take a walk and see some of the sights... Oh by the way, you've probably guessed that slaves aren't expected to wear clothes at all here; in fact, we left all your clothes on the ship, so you'll be naked the whole week! Won't that be fun?"

This stunned me a little; it seemed to me that slavery being accepted was one thing -- and I didn't really mind being naked in front of one or two strangers, in private! -- but public nakedness was quite another! But I had no chance to protest as my Mistress led me (by a leash attached to the heavy padlock on my balls!) out of the room, along the corridor, through the foyer and into the street.

The sensation of my naked body being fully on display for all passers-by was quite new; the previous evening and earlier in the foyer I had been blind-folded, but now I could see people looking at me and I became quite embarrassed! Some stared openly, some grinned with great amusement at my discomfiture, but others hardly spared a glance at my nudity. Strangely, I was most upset by these casual looks, as if my body (stripped and on display at least partly against my will) was just part of the scenery and of no interest at all. I found myself almost involuntarily covering my cock and balls with my hands and keeping my eyes on the ground.

When my Mistress noticed this, she said sharply, "Stop that! Hands behind your back, please! You don't need to be ashamed of your body, slave." I obeyed (she had trained me well) but my reaction and her rebuke were repeated several times, and more than once I asked her to take me back to our hotel room. Not wanting to attract more attention to myself, I kept my voice low, but she chose to ignore me at first.

"All right," she said in a tone of exasperation after about an hour, "we'll go back to the room, but you might be sorry. I'm very disappointed in you!" We walked back quickly and in silence -- I was rehearsing what to say to her. I didn't want to use our 'opt-out' clause, but I was sure I could persuade her to keep our B&D activities private or in small groups of people.

I was wrong; she didn't even give me a chance to say what I'd been rehearsing! We had hardly crossed the threshold of our room before she had my wrists handcuffed behind me; and when I started to speak she snapped, "Not now! First I want you in a suitable pose!" Very soon she had me bent over the back of a chair with my ankles spread and my arms pulled up to a hook in the ceiling; then "Open up!" she ordered as she placed a large gag against my lips. Knowing she could force it in by pinching my nose, I obeyed and she went on "Good boy -- I don't want you to interrupt while I give you a little lecture. Later you'll have a chance to say what you want to say.

"Now," she continued when she had me fixed to her satisfaction, "I'm going to make four points, most of which you agreed to a long time ago ... and to help you remember I'll give you five strokes with a riding crop for each one. They'll also serve as punishment for your behaviour just now.

"First -- you agreed to be a humble obedient slave during the whole of what we call a 'session', and only afterwards would you complain of mistreatment or take the choice to opt out. I have decided (if it wasn't clear by what I said earlier) that this whole holiday is to be one 'session' ... which I don't think is unreasonable so long as I keep my side of our agreement." Here she paused --and I winced at the pain of five strokes of her crop across my upturned bum, delivered with (I thought) a little more energy than usual!

"Second," she continued, "I agreed not to injure you or even to take you past the threshhold at which discipline becomes real pain for you ... except, you may remember, by a small margin for purposes of punishment -- like NOW!" (The stroke that coincided with the last word certainly met that criterion, as did the four following, drawing grunts of pain through my gag.) .".. and you can't accuse me of breaking that agreement on this holiday."

After a moment she went on: "Third -- I promised not to expose you to situations where a charge of indecent behaviour might result. Perhaps it's this that's bothering you, in these unusual surroundings ... but I promise you, this ... is ... no ... problem ... here!" She punctuated the last five words with stinging blows of the crop across the backs of my thighs.

"Worst of all," now there was a note of real anger in her voice, "you made me look ridiculous today. After your behaviour with Mistress Anne I thought I could be proud of you, and of myself as a Mistress, in this community where Bondage and Slavery are taken for granted ... but you let me down, and that is UN-FOR-GIVE-A-BLE!" Once again the crop laced my bum and thighs in time with each syllable, as hard as any she had ever given me, if not harder.

Her tone changed to one of sadness. "One more thing: after all this time as my slave, I really thought you could trust me more and know that I wouldn't spring surprises unless I'm certain... no, no more strokes for this" (she must have noticed me tensing in expectation) .".. unless I'm certain that you'll enjoy this holiday if you give yourself a chance." Her hand slipped between my legs and fondled my cock, and she chuckled (with a definite undertone of "I told you so"!) when she found it almost hard ... as usual!

"Now, in spite of what I said about when this 'session' will end, I will give you a chance to opt out, but not immediately; I want you to think about it carefully for the rest of this afternoon. However, I don't intend to sit around here while you do..."

She went to the telephone and looked in the hotel directory; she started to dial a number, then checked herself and re-dialled with a grin in my direction, murmurung "That's an idea! ... Hello ... yes, this is room 64 ... I want to go out for a while and I have a slave I'd like taken care of ... yes, that's right ... in five minutes then ... thank you, goodbye.

"This could be fun," she smiled as she untied my ankles and released my wrists from the hook (but without unlocking the handcuffs). It wasn't hard to guess what she had in mind; she was going to leave me in the 'cells' that the receptionist had referred to this morning ... well, at least it would be reasonably private, I thought.

I was wrong -- again! When the lift door opened at the basement, we were greeted by a young man at a desk who asked my Mistress if he could help her. At her reply "Yes, I phoned a few minutes ago ... from room 64," he said "Ah yes of course, ma'am, we'll have you set up in just a minute ... slaves!" he called over his shoulder, "A slave for harnessing!"

Harnessing? What was going on here? I didn't have to wait long to find out -- two women appeared, young, attractive and stark naked except for ankle cuffs and chains between them, chorused "Yes, boss!" to the man, bobbed a curtsey to my Mistress, then each took one of my elbows in a firm grip. My Mistress and the young man sauntered behind as I was led through a door ... to be confronted by something very like a rickshaw! My surprise -- and sudden understanding -- must have shown on my gagged face, because the girls beside me giggled simultaneously.

It was like a rickshaw, only different, and I soon discovered the significance of the differences. The two naked slave-girls worked quickly and quietly at harnessing me to it, while the young man kept up a running commentary to my Mistress (and I found myself listening very hard!): "I suggest this type of carriage for the first time. It's very light and simple -- first we fit the collar" -- a wide padded collar, the front wider than the back -- "see how it keeps his head up nicely, makes him look much better, don't you think? Next we fasten the top of the draw-shaft to the back of the collar and fix these straps under his shoulders and on to the collar, to help keep the shaft along his back and draw his shoulders back well.

"Now we adjust the shaft down his back"; it was shaped to fit the curve of my spine, and the lower end was curved to fit snugly between the cheeks of my bum; the slave-girls fitting the harness to me also spent a moment to run their fingers (gently!) along the tender weals on my bum-cheeks. The young man went on: "... we fit this ring around the base of his cock ... and a handsome cock it is too!" -- giggles from the slave-girls, and I felt my prick swelling as their hands fondled it briefly while fitting the fairly tight ring -- "You'll find that the visitor-medallion will swing about very uncomfortably if you want him to gallop hard, so ... oh, you won't be doing that today? OK, otherwise we could fasten it up between his legs.

"Finally, his arms ... there are a number of ways to fix them, but if I may suggest? ... Thank you, ma'am. We fit this pole across the back of the collar, strap his wrists together there too, and then strap his elbows to to these loops at the ends of the pole. This keeps his arms nicely out of the way; see how his flanks, from his ribs to his knees, are available to use your switch on if you need to. And by fitting the reins to his elbows, you have a good deal of leverage for steering him.

"Well there you are, ma'am" -- he and my Mistress stood in front of me -- "this harness is very popular, because it makes him stand straight and it doesn't clutter up the front of his body with straps and things, so everybody can see what a fine animal he is! Although with due respect, ma'am, he could use some exercise to flatten this out a bit, don't you think?" -- he patted my slightly flabby belly and I involuntarily reacted by drawing it in as tightly as I could. "That's better," he grinned and gave my belly a playful slap, but hard enough to draw a grunt from me through my gag.

"Perhaps I better take this out," said my Mistress, reaching up and removing the plug fitted in the centre of my gag; I still couldn't talk, of course, but now I would be able to breathe a lot more easily. "Don't worry, slave," she smiled into my eyes encouragingly, "I won't drive you too hard this first time." I felt her clever hands reach down and give my cock and balls a gentle squeeze, and "Shall we go, then?" she suggested.

They moved behind me and, through the shaft at my back, I could feel my Mistress settle into the seat. Then she said, "OK Dobbin, off you go now --just walking at first until we get the hang of this"; and at the same time I felt the tickle of a switch on my ribs.

I really had very little choice. I didn't want to get my Mistress angry again, so I obediently started walking. Also (I have to admit) the feeling of being a sort of 'stable slave', a naked animal harnessed to draw my Mistress' carriage, was incredibly exciting ... and so deliciously humiliating! Using the reins attached to my elbows, my Mistress took a few turns around the stable yard, then she turned me through a gate and out onto a wide path.

"I'm going to be reasonably kind to you today," she said. "We'll avoid people as much as I can and concentrate on these trails to some of the scenic spots according to my map here. But we will meet a few people, and if it bothers you that's just too bad -- I'm hoping it will help if you're forced to stand straight and not be ashamed of your body. Now I won't talk too much, because you have a lot to think about."

For about two hours she drove me along these trails, through peaceful green woods and along rocky cliffs and among sandhills. The sun and the breeze felt great on my naked body and sometimes the picturesque surroundings made me almost forget my situation. But the tug of the draw-bar on my collar and cock always brought me back to what I was doing (the carriage was very light and well-balanced, but the cock-ring was attached through some sort of spring mechanism, which caused little rhythmic tugs unless I concentrated on walking very smoothly). However, I was able to think a good deal about what my Mistress had said earlier....

Not that she gave me complete peace for my thoughts! After walking for some distance at first, she occasionally made me speed up to a slow jog or even a sort of trot. She didn't speak, but just used the the switch on my exposed sides until I reached the speed she wanted. The heavy padlock on my balls did bounce about quite uncomfortably when I ran; I could believe the young man's comment that "galloping" would be impossible! Despite panting with the unaccustomed exertion, I was beginning to enjoy the exercise (as well as the air on my naked body!) more and more....

Several times my Mistress stopped me and got out of the carriage to walk along a narrow 'foot-path only' to some particular vantage point. Each time she tied the reins firmly to a 'hitching post' provided, but she always kept me in sight. And when she returned, she always spent a few moments standing in front of me, smiling into my eyes and stroking and patting my naked body just as if I were a horse. She also made a point of fondling my prick and showed pleasure (but no surprise at all) when she always found it erect or nearly so! She was clearly making some shrewd guesses at the results of my meditations....

We did encounter some other people, as she had expected; most of them didn't come very close, although once we had to go right by a small group of (obviously) tourists who stared in surprise and then hooted with laughter at my harnessed nakedness. But I was getting used to my public exposure and was able to ignore them.

We also met two or three other slaves harnessed to carriages. I thought I saw some female slaves some distance away, but the ones we met were all males drawing their Mistresses, who usually waved as we passed. One pulled up beside us as I was resting after a short trot, and the other Mistress started to chat with mine; after a while she asked my Mistress, "Do you mind if I stroke your slave? He's quite a handsome animal." "Be my guest," was the reply, and I actually felt some pride as the hands of a complete stranger ran up and down my naked sides, gently pinched my nipples and even stroked my rigid cock. I was beginning to enjoy this!....

We got back to the stables in the twilight; we had watched a glorious sunset across a bay -- my Mistress sitting on a bench, I standing quietly beside her, and her hands idly running over my bum and thighs and belly and cock. She had walked me back slowly and in silence, allowing me as much time as possible to make up my mind about what she'd said earlier.

Not that there was any need, in fact -- I had long since admitted to myself that she'd been quite right in every respect and that I could trust her to make this holiday enjoyable and exciting. Now I was simply rehearsing what I would say ... I wanted it to be as humble and submissive as possible, the way she likes it!

I wasn't given a chance to make my speech immediately we got back to our room; instead my Mistress made me kneel in front of her and she made a speech. "I was thinking on the way back this evening," she began, "I enjoyed myself so much this afternoon that I don't want to cut short my holiday, even if you do want to opt out. However, I promised that you could opt out this evening if you wish, so what I propose is this:

"If you do opt out, we will not go home immediately -- instead, you'll spend the rest of our visit in the cells, which won't expose you to the public at all (I'll even arrange 'solitary' for you if you wish). I know you enjoy being locked in a cell -- I've done it to you often enough -- and you might enjoy a week even more than just a day!

"Meanwhile," she continued, "I'll be able to enjoy my holiday in the way I had planned to do with you -- by hiring a slave, or two or three if I feel like it, which is easy to do here. If I get bored with them, I might come down to your cell and give you some attention, but you may be sure the attention will be uncomfortable for you -- nothing new, of course, because you'll want to avoid new experiences, but I'll give you bondage and discipline right up to your limits, all the time!

"Then again, I might not bother, and you'll spend the week looking at the four walls of your cell -- or perhaps I'll give the warders a list of your favourite bondage positions to relieve the boredom. Now I couldn't be fairer than that, could I? In any case," she gave me a sly grin, "we have to wait for the ship to come back to collect your things ... or would you prefer to go home on another ship as you are, naked, no money, nothing?"

She paused. "Now, in case this proposal affects the decision you made this afternoon (and if you found it hard to decide, I hope it helps), I'll give you another half hour or so to think it over. But there's no need for you to sit idle while you do ... pose!"

Almost automatically, I adopted the position specified by this code-word -- knees spread, hands clutching my ankles, my back arched forward and up and my head thrown back. After a moment my Mistress' hands came to the gag I still wore ... but not to remove it; instead she fastened to it her "dildo variation": a bulb went deep into my mouth through the hole, while from the other end protruded a large artificial prick made of firm but flexible rubber. Then she lifted her skirt, straddled my back-flung head and guided the dildo deep into her tight pussy; and as she allowed her skirt to fall again over my head, I began to move the dildo up and down, as I knew she expected.

Her last proposal had not changed my mind, obviously, so I was able to concentrate fully on giving my Mistress pleasure in this most humiliating of all ways. I found myself reciting my little speech, already worked out, in time with my thrusts of the dildo-gag in her moist cunt. Meanwhile she leaned forward and played with my arched naked body, pinching my nipples (hard!), scratching my taut belly and chest and handling my cock and balls quite roughly, as she usually did.

After a while, even in the darkness under her skirt, I became aware that her heart wasn't really in this; as willingly as I tried, my thrusts weren't building up her arousal at all. Abruptly, she stood up, gave me permission to sit more comfortably on my heels and sat down in an armchair directly in front of me.

"Your moment has come," she said seriously. "I'll remove the gag and I want you to tell me your decision. Take your time to get the stiffness out of your jaws, but when you speak, make it quite clear what you want ... and if you do want to opt out, I don't want a speech with your reasons or complaints -- just the words we agreed on so long ago."

By now my gag was out and she sat back, holding my eyes locked with hers. I waited a while, working my jaws until I was sure they would behave (I'd done this before!), then said carefully: "Ple... please, Mistress, I want to go on being your slave. I'm sorry I behaved so badly earlier, and thank you for punishing me and reminding me of our agreements, and I'll try very hard not to do it again."

My Mistress said nothing for a long long moment. She simply held my gaze, then at last asked quietly: "Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied firmly.

"No chance to opt out before the end of this holiday?"

"No, Mistress."

"I can do anything I want with you, within the terms of our agreement?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And any repetition of your behaviour today will be punished in the same way, only perhaps more severely?"

"Yes, Mistress."

A pause, then, "Your very last chance to change your mind; do you want to?"

"No, Mistress."

"I'm so glad!" Her smile was brilliant! She leaned forward and hugged me, then planted a big kiss right on my mouth -- something she did very very rarely (after all, Mistresses don't normally kiss their slaves!). "I'm so glad that I'm going to give you a rest while I take a bath ... no, I insist, you relax here on my bed; there'll be plenty of chances for you to wait on me and I'm quite able to bathe myself -- after all, I was here last night on my own without a slave to serve me!"

It was pleasant, I must admit, to lie on the soft bed and let my tired muscles relax. But I couldn't help thinking over her last words; a small streak of jealousy made me glad that she hadn't used last night to 'sample' another slave, and this made me even happier in the decision I'd taken -- I wanted her to spend her time on me!

My Mistress took her time in the bath but at last she came out, looking fresh and wonderful in her light robe. "Your turn," she smiled at me, "I'm going to dress for dinner, but we're in no hurry so take your time and soak some of your aches away in a good hot tub" -- she aimed a gentle slap at the welts that were still fresh (and tender!) on my bum, then turned serious -- "but when you come out, be prepared to be my real slave again!"

When I did come out (after a long and very relaxing soak), my Mistress was dressed -- casually but very smartly. "OK slave," she said, "this will be a test for you. No shackles, no gag, no leash or anything ... but I expect you to be totally obedient. You will walk just behind me on my left; you will NOT cover your nakedness in any way -- hands at your sides or behind you, as you please; you will not say one word unless I give you permission; and I'll speak to you only when I have to, so you must watch me carefully for any signals I may make with my hands. I may even ignore you for periods of time, but I'll expect you to be exactly where I last put you. Right, let's go!"

She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, then waited a moment for me to close the door before she moved away. I followed her instructions very carefully -- this time I really wanted her to be proud of me -- and all the way to the dining room she never once glanced at me to check. She was trusting me to obey her, just as she expected me to trust her.

This made me very happy and even more determined to please her. And now I really began to get excited by my public nudity -- my cock was hard from the first moment and I found it easy to walk proudly, chest out and stomach in, to display my body to its best advantage.

We reached the dining room and my Mistress was shown to a table by a black male slave wearing a white bow tie but no shirt and a short white jacket but no trousers! As she sat down she signed for me to stand on a low platform beside the table, then made me kneel.

Without even looking at me, she murmured, "I asked specially for a table where you could be easily seen -- to let you get used to the feeling. Now -- stand and pose!" I obeyed (standing with feet a little apart, hands clasped behind my neck, chest out and shoulders back, stomach in and buttocks clenched to thrust my hips forward) and looked around.

The dining room was on a level raised a few feet above that of the foyer, which I was now facing. Everybody who passed through could see my naked body quite clearly and, as I'd noticed earlier, the reactions ranged from amazed stares to almost complete unconcern. And now that I was less concerned about my own exposure, I became more aware that of course I was far from the only naked body on display; slaves of both sexes were following or being led by their Mistresses or Masters (some even by other slaves!) and all were stark naked or nearly so, except for a great variety of shackles, from none at all to very thick cuffs and heavy chains.

Suddenly my platform moved! I glanced down, breaking my pose slightly, but my Mistress caught my eye with a sharp look and a quick grin, and I realised that she could turn it with her foot! Finding myself facing a window beyond which vague shapes moved in the darkness, it was a moment before I understood -- the other side of the window was the street, and I had no doubt that, with the brighter lights inside, the people out there could see me quite clearly!

I admit I flinched a bit at this point, but I managed to hold my pose; and my Mistress must have been watching, I think, because after about 30 seconds she spun me round to face her, caught my eye, held it ... and winked! Just then the waiter arrived to take her order, but I didn't mind that her attention was distracted -- I felt great, because I knew she was wanting me to make a success of this.

And a moment later I felt even better -- the waiter, after taking her order, said, "Thank you ma'am ... and if I may say so, ma'am, you have a good slave there, behaving himself so well without any shackles or anything!" My Mistress acknowledged this with a curt, "Thank you, slave," and another wink for me, and I couldn't help smiling at him for his compliment.

Dinner was a novel and interesting experience for me. When the food was brought my Mistress made me kneel so that I could eat too. She had ordered dishes in which the food was in fork-sized pieces, like meat-balls, so that she could make me beg as she held a forkful up for me; as for wine, I had to sip it out of a bowl on the edge of the table -- my hands might as well have been tied behind my back. Between courses, she mostly had me stand on my platform "so that people can see you!"; and for a while she even made me bend over with my back to my 'audience' while she gently traced the weals on my bum and thighs with a fingernail.

The food was delicious, and she fed me enough and not too much; but when dessert arrived, with coffee, she made no attempt to give me any at all. Instead she enjoyed the creamy mousse herself, licking it very slowly from the spoon with sensual sweeps of her long tongue! The hint was subtle but quite clear, even though she didn't once look at me while she ate it and sipped her coffee -- but she did have one hand almost constantly on my cock, and she could easily read my reactions by its state ... rock-hard, of course!

That state didn't change a bit when I followed her out of the restaurant after the meal! I found myself wanting to hurry and had to make an extra effort to keep to my place behind her as she deliberately sauntered slowly back to our room -- again never even sparing me a glance -- where she stood aside and waited for me to open the door for her. Once inside, she looked at me with the slightest of smiles at the corners of her mouth and said: "Well that was a very good meal. Now, would like your dessert, slave?" Her mouth twitched at my eager, "Oh yes please, Mistress!" but she kept herself under tight control and replied lightly, "OK but, even though your hands have behaved themselves very well this evening, I do like them kept out of the way for this dish. Turn around!"

I obeyed, and she quickly tied my wrists tightly palm-to-palm and added a wide strap around my elbows. Motioning me to my knees at the foot of the bed, she literally threw off her clothes to bare her lovely slim body and stretched out sensuously on the bed.

A moment later my mouth was buried deep in her lush pussy, already wet with her juices, and her self-controlled mask vanished abruptly! She moaned and cried "Yes, there!" and "Suck me, slave!" among other things as I helped her to one of the quickest orgasms she'd ever had with me.

Two climaxes later she pushed my head from between her smooth thighs and smiled weakly at me: "That was some dessert, wasn't it? I'm sure it tasted even better than the one in the restaurant, eh?" Then more seriously, "I'm very pleased with your behaviour tonight, and I'm proud of you ... and as a reward you have permission to bring yourself off ... oh, that's right, your hands are tied ... now where's my bag of tricks?"

She dug into her case of bondage (and other!) gear and brought out the gadget she had invented for just this purpose -- a thick rubber sleeve that she fitted over my rigid prick, attached to a flexible rod and a tube and bulb which she passed through my crotch and placed in my hands. She made me kneel on the bed between her outflung legs so she could watch as I used the bulb to inflate the sleeve (squeezing my cock) and the rod to move it back and forth.

Her hands roved caressingly over her lush curves and her fingers toyed with the dark nipples on her firm breasts as she watched my cock gradually getting harder and my breath coming quicker. I knew she loved this -- and of course I loved it too, it's all too rarely that she allows it! -- and I tried to draw it out as long as I could, but I was so excited that I came within five minutes. My purple cock spurted its load over her lovely body and, as soon as it had stopped jerking, she reached up, removed its sleeve and proceeded to 'milk' it (quite severely!) onto her belly until it was dry.

This is something of a ritual between us and I needed no directions on what to do next -- I bent over her naked body and began to clean it with my tongue, starting at the blobs that had landed highest, on her gorgeous breasts. As I worked my way down her chest and belly, licking up my own come and swallowing it, her breath quickened and she began to writhe gently ... until I licked up the last from just above her luxurious thatch of pussy hair, and she clutched my hair in both hands and forced my mouth down to her clit again.

She had two more climaxes in quick succession before she pushed me away again and said wearily, "That was wonderful, slave ... here, turn around so that I can untie your arms ... there ... now let's go to sleep, but first I want you to put one ankle into that shackle by your bed and close it ... good boy ... now sleep tight ..." and she switched out the light.

What she called my 'bed' was little more than than a thinly padded pallet at the foot of her deeply upholstered bed, but I didn't care; I was a happy and contented slave, and almost immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 3. New Experiences ... and Acquaintances.

I woke to the sound of the telephone ringing and my Mistress' voice (somewhat sleepily!) answering: "Hello ... yes ... thank you, he'll be down right away."

She hung up, then called, "Slave ... are you awake?" and when I answered she continued, "Our breakfast will be ready in five minutes. I want you to go down to the dining room to collect it ... get up!" The shackle on my ankle suddenly fell open (there must have been some sort of remote control), enabling me to obey.

"Good morning!" she said with a smile, then seriously, "Can I trust you to go down with no shackles?" My fervent, "Oh yes Mistress!" brought another smile and the reply, "OK, off you go then ... you know where to find the slaves-only lift?"

The 'slaves-only' lift was nothing more than a cage running on tracks up the walls (three floors high) of the foyer. As I rode down, my nakedness was visible to everybody there, but it happened to be deserted except for staff, who paid very little attention to me as I made my way to the dining room and then to the kitchen servery.

I announced my errand and room number when asked, and a covered tray was placed on my forearms and then fastened there with straps around each wrist and elbow! "Keep it level, now!" was the comment as I was sent off, and, "You're a lucky slave, aren't you, wandering about without even ankle hobbles!"

This compliment gave me a bit of a thrill, of course ... enough to see me through the foyer on my return journey; a large group of tourists was standing about, obviously waiting for a bus or something! They all stared in fascination and amusement as I made my way past them, and comments of all kinds were passed as I rode up in the cage, unable (now) to cover my cock and balls even if I wanted to.

My Mistress was wearing her robe and sitting up; I looked around for a table for the breakfast tray, but suddenly became aware that she was pointing to the floor at her feet -- a clear sign that I was to kneel there. I obeyed -- carefully! -- and the tray thus became her breakfast table!

As she ate, and fed me, she talked about her plans for the morning; we would go for a long walk through the streets and look at the stalls and shops, and I would be permitted to talk and ask her about how things were done here ... "so long as you ask properly for my permission before speaking," she emphasised seriously. "Now help me dress."

She released my arms from the tray and I started on a task I adore! It is so exciting for me to dress my Mistress; to draw her briefs up her long legs and fit them on her shapely hips, to cup her gorgeous breasts in her bra, to guide her arms into the sleeves of of a blouse and button it over those same breasts, to fit a pretty casual skirt around her slim waist and, finally, to kneel at her feet and carefully place them into her light sandals!

When she was ready, she turned to me and said, "Even though you behaved perfectly last night, I want to fasten your hands behind your back this morning ... not because I expect you to disobey, but just because I feel like it! Turn around, slave!" I obeyed and she tied my forearms wrist-to-elbow across my back, firmly but fairly comfortably. "I want those nice marks on your bum to be plainly in view!" she commented with a chuckle.

The heavy padlock on my balls had a second smaller ring on it, and to this my Mistress clipped one end of a heavy leash ... and off we went! My reactions were now quite different from yesterday -- as we went through the foyer I even found myself smiling at the amazed stares and the cool appraising looks! At one point I was so distracted that I didn't watch where my Mistress was leading me ... but I was abruptly reminded by her tug on the chain, which snapped quite painfully on the head of my cock.

Now that I was able to relax more, I began to notice things I hadn't seen yesterday. For instance, there were slaves (at least, I assumed they were slaves because they were naked and usually shackled in some way) who had numbers tattooed or stencilled low on their backs or on their bellies just above their pubic hair. Mindful of my Mistress' instructions about getting permission to speak, I said humbly, "Mistress, may I speak, please?" and at her nod asked about the numbers.

"That's their registration number, of course," she replied. "All permanent slaves have to be registered, so that the authorities can keep track of them and of who owns them. The island police have a special Slave Squad, whose job it is to see that slaves are not mistreated beyond their tolerance; they regularly check how slaves are being treated, and all slaves are given a regular opportunity to complain about their treatment or to say that they they don't want to be slaves any longer. And if any owners overstep the limits and abuse their slaves, there are very tough penalties -- like losing their licence to own slaves, or even being deported from the island." She grinned at me -- "So you see a slave's life here is not too bad, eh?"

Her description was confirmed later when we were approached by a man and a woman wearing uniforms. "Slave Squad, ma'am," one said to my Mistress, "Your slave has no registration number, so we assume that you are visiting? ... then may we see your papers please?"

They looked at the papers and checked something against the padlock on my balls, then continued, "We want to ask your slave some questions, ma'am, and we warn you not to try and influence his answers in any way." I was asked whether I was a slave voluntarily (I replied "Yes"), whether I had been treated too cruelly ("No"), and even whether the weals across my bum and thighs had been inflicted against my will ("Yes sir," I replied, "but I deserved every one of them and I thank my Mistress for them"). Satisfied, the officers thanked my Mistress and left us; and my Mistress said quietly, "Thank you, slave ... I wonder what you'd have answered if I'd been questioned yesterday?"

During the morning we wandered around the streets, getting our bearings. I was constantly being surprised by new evidences of the slavery that was so common here; slaves tied to posts outside houses, slaves working in gardens chained to rings in the ground (and to the implements they were using), and the large variety of shackles worn by slaves as they walked or were led about the streets. These ranged from the lightest of leashes (attached to collars or cock-rings or nipple-clips) to leather 'body-harnesses' and ropes to very heavy cuffs and chains and even spreader bars between ankles; one day we even saw a slave dragging a real, heavy ball on a chain!

By far the majority of slaves were totally naked, but there were a few who wore some clothing, usually the smallest of 'g-strings' covering their pubic parts; I don't remember ever seeing a female slave with any covering over her breasts! Naturally, as a normal (sexually, at least -- maybe not in some other ways!) heterosexual male, I was fascinated by the constant display of naked female bodies all around me. They came in many shapes and sizes, but most of them were fairly young and at least firm and shapely -- the sort of body (as my Mistress remarked once) that an owner is not ashamed to put on public view.

One might think that after a while I would have become blasé about this, but quite the reverse -- the more naked slave-women I saw, the more my my cock tended to stand up! Of course my Mistress noticed and when my eyes followed a particularly shapely body passing us she said with a grin, "Not for you, boy! You're my slave, and your only desire should be for my pleasure!"

My scrutiny of all these naked female bodies revealed that (like myself) some had no registration numbers. I guessed that these were (also like myself) 'visiting' slaves, and I asked my Mistress to confirm this: "Yes," she replied, "and if you managed to raise your lustful gaze to the level of their necks, you may also notice that they are all wearing a collar of the same sort of heavy metal as the padlock on your balls. I think their owners have the option of that or a heavy belt with a crotch-strap, but female slaves don't have the convenience of balls like you do. It works much better this way, don't you think?" She smiled and gave my leash a harder tug than usual!

We stopped for lunch in a little sunlit park. My Mistress had bought a picnic basket at a stall nearby and she sat on the grass leaning against a tree and had me kneel beside her and put the food in her mouth and hold her glass to her lips (she freed my arms for this purpose and also to give them some relief). As we ate she idly ran her hands over my naked body and played with my cock....

"I get the idea from this" (she gave it a squeeze) "that you're enjoying yourself more than you did yesterday. Tell me how you feel, slave."

With real enthusiasm, I told her how much I was enjoying the sun and breeze on my body, the humiliation of being on a leash and naked for everyone to see, and the excitement of seeing all the other naked slaves around me; and I thanked her, very sincerely, for being strict with me yesterday and bringing me to my senses.

During the afternoon my Mistress decided to explore the shops. I was interested, too, in seeing what they offered; but at the first shop my Mistress left me outside -- I found to my surprise that all the shops had a sort of 'hitching rail' outside ... like the Old West had for horses, but these were for slaves!! A link of my chain leash slipped into a strong hook which clicked firmly shut when my Mistress turned a key.

"The immigration people warned me," she said, "that sometimes visiting slaves are stolen to avoid the licence fees -- and we don't want that to happen, do we?" She smiled, removed the key and disappeared into the shop.

I waited -- a little nervously -- until she emerged, then obtained her permission to speak and protested that I didn't like being left alone without her. She looked at me a little sternly and said: "Why do you think I'm using a strong chain with strong padlocks? I promise nothing will happen to you ... and you promised to trust me until the end of this holiday, didn't you?"

At the next shop she found a very heavy steel collar that she could fit around my neck, forcing me to kneel at the hitching rail while she was inside, and the third had a heavy iron cage in which I had to crouch. By this time I'd had time to think and I asked very humbly, "Mistress, may I speak, please?"

She looked hard at me for a moment before nodding, and I continued: "I'm sorry, Mistress, I'm just a stupid slave and it seems I constantly need reminding of what it means to trust you. I really do trust you, and I'll try to show it more and I hope you can forget my complaint a few minutes ago. But -- if I may ask another question -- would you explain, please, why are slaves not allowed inside the shops?"

My Mistress' expression had softened, and now it turned into one of mock amazement as she replied: "There's no point, is there? Slaves have no money to buy anything, no need for anything because their owners keep them (at great expense, I might add!) ... and if I want to buy something for myself, would I lower myself to ask the opinion of a mere slave like you? As a slave, the best you could do is to beg for a new whip for me to discipline you, then accept whatever whip I might choose ..." She let her implicit invitation hang in the air and smiled gently at my, "Thank you, Mistress, I understand now."

Reassured, I began to enjoy the periods, whether short or long, spent hitched outside the shops. My Mistress had earlier explained that her "no speaking unless spoken to" rule did not apply to conversations with other slaves ("but don't dare interrupt your betters!" she had added), and I chatted with several slaves who occasionallly shared my hitching rail. I discovered that some had been permanent slaves since the official age-of-consent at 16, while others were 'semi-permanent', having agreed to a few years' slavery to earn good money which was earning interest back home without any opportunity to spend it!

And of course I could enjoy the display of naked female slave bodies as they went by, without my Mistress' sarcastic remarks! I was alone outside one shop, avidly watching an especially shapely slave-girl walking away (high heels and a very short chain between her ankles were making her generous hips sway in a most interesting fashion!) when I heard another slave being hitched to the rail behind me. Waiting until the immediate object of my attention disappeared around a corner, I turned to face my new companion ... and stared, my mouth falling open in sheer wonder!

She was naked, of course, and her body was easily the sexiest I had seen; her breasts were large, almost too large for her slim frame, but very high and firm with large dark aureoles around erect nipples; her waist was slim and her belly flat, rising below to a prominent mound covered with a thick crop of blond curls; her hips, slim yet well-curved, tapered into shapely thighs and long slim legs. All this I saw in a single long look, thanks to her arms being tied to her sides, firmly but not very tightly.

Eventually I managed to drag my eyes up to her neck (noticing that she wore a 'visiting slave' collar) and face, which was framed by a halo of golden wavy hair and was as beautiful as her body ... and (I realised with a jolt) was vaguely familiar! Wondering where I'd seen her before -- was she a slight acquaintance from my home town? -- and hoping she didn't recognise me, I said, "Hi" as casually as I could manage (forgetting in my confusion that I was hardly in danger of blackmail or anything like that from another naked slave like myself!). No such luck -- she looked at me more closely and said, "Hello -- we met on the cruise ship, didn't we?"

Immediately I recognised her as one of the honeymooners (as I'd thought) from the first days of this holiday! I had admired her beauty then, wearing a lovely one-piece swimsuit or a stunning evening gown at dinner, and had wondered how she would look naked ... now I knew, and she was more beautiful than ever!

So we started to to chat, and Helen (she had to tell me her name again) told me that she and her Master had played bondage games for several years as lovers, but recently he had been promoted enabling her to give up work and become his full-time slave.

"We are honeymooners," she smiled when I mentioned my guess. "We got legally married at the same time as I submitted to full-time slavery; this cruise was to celebrate both. I was expecting to enjoy the cruise and our evening bondage activities, but my Master surprised me with the visit to this island. Yesterday was the first time I'd been naked and shackled in public, and I kept covering myself with my hands -- that's why they're tied today. Last night he gave me a lash for each time I'd covered myself; look!" She turned, displaying her back covered with 20 or 30 thin weals, and continued, "He used only a light whip, but they still hurt!"

Just then I saw my Mistress emerging from the shop and cried excitedly, "Look Mistress, it's Helen from the..." but she cut me off with a sharp, "Quiet! You didn't ask permission to speak, but I think I'll overlook it this time if you apologize." After my humble, "I'm sorry, Mistress," she continued: "Yes I know, I met her Master inside -- he'll be out in a moment. Isn't it a coincidence? I see you've recognised each other -- and I hope you like each other, because Master Paul and I have decided to spend some time together ... and that means you slaves too ... ah, here he is!"

I remembered the handsome young man who came out of the shop ... and also remembered how I'd envied him his gorgeous wife! Now I felt the faintest touch of jealousy (what exactly did my Mistress mean by "spend time together"?) but decided that I wouldn't mind if it meant I could also spend some time with the beautiful naked girl beside me!

My Mistress and Master Paul spent a few minutes 'inspecting' Helen and me respectively and explaining the reasons for our weals and tied hands, then Master Paul said to Helen, "I'm inclined to give you another chance to keep your hands in their place. You can see what Mistress Tina did to her slave..." -- here he ran a fingernail slowly along one of the weals on my bum and I winced visibly -- "... and next time I won't be as gentle as I was yesterday. OK?"

"Yes, Master, I'll try," replied Helen in a small voice. Her Master removed the straps holding her arms and said to my Mistress, "Shall we go?" We moved off, my Mistress with my chain-leash in her hand, while Helen (now totally unfettered) followed obediently behind Master Paul. My Mistress commented casually, "You're not using a leash, I see," and at his reply, "No, I'm training her to follow me without one," she continued, "I have an idea -- she could hold my slave's leash, if you think she can be trusted not to lead him astray!"

"She'd better not lead him anywhere but right behind us," was Master Paul's reply (delivered with mock sternness) as he agreed readily, and my Mistress handed the end of my chain to Helen with the admonition: "Don't you dare lose him!" and she continued to Master Paul, "See ... now she has only one hand spare to cover herself; one hand won't cover much of these lovely big boobs, and it would be a pity to cover such a pretty blond pussy ... may I?" Master Paul nodded smilingly and my Mistress spent a few moments gently fondling Helen's lovely tits and cupping her pussy with clever fingers.

Our next stop was an open-air coffee shop -- but it also had a hitching rail! Master Paul had a thin chain to fasten Helen's collar; and before they left us, my Mistress and her new friend produced something from the packages they had brought out from the last shop -- two brightly-coloured 4-inch plastic squares attached to spring-loaded clips. They held them up in front of us for a moment, then fastened the clips to a pinch of flesh and went in to enjoy a cup of coffee, giggling like schoolgirls. It took a moment for us to understand -- the 'tags' had large letters spelling "FEEL FREE!"

The ambiguity -- and the invitation -- in these two words was not lost on the passers-by ... to the obvious delight of my Mistress and my companion's Master as they sat at a table and sipped their coffee. At first it was only other Masters or Mistresses walking by with their slaves or entering the cafe, but later it was also tourists who had clearly never encountered Bondage and Slavery before; Helen and I were very thoroughly "felt" -- touched, fondled, stroked, goosed, you name it -- by twenty or thirty hands in as many minutes!

With my hands tied behind me, I had no choice but to accept the attention, but Helen was in a quandary; instinctively she wanted to protect her tits and pussy with her hands but she also wanted to keep her word to her Master. At last she gritted her teeth (as it were), put her hands firmly behind her back and kept them there; a moment later she was rewarded by Master Paul coming over to give her a big hug and kiss and a warm, "Good girl! I knew you could do it!"

We wore those tags for the rest of the afternoon and every time we had to wait fastened to a hitching rail, people accepted the invitation. But we also found that our owners were watching out for us, because when a cold-eyed lady tourist began twisting my cock and squeezing my balls very painfully, she was suddenly confronted by my Mistress angrily demanding, "What gives you the right to maltreat my slave? The sign says 'Feel', not 'Hurt'. You will please apologize to me -- and to him! Or would you rather I call for the police?" It was a strange feeling to be a naked shackled slave and yet to have a strong-willed and fully dressed woman begging me humbly to forgive her for hurting me ... but mainly I felt grateful to my Mistress for keeping her promise to me.

Gentle as most of the 'feeling' was, my cock was quite sore by the time my Mistress removed the tag (Helen had already made similar complaints to me about her tits and pussy). This was when we were both taken inside a shop despite what my Mistress had said earlier. However, we bought nothing because we saw nothing ... we'd been blindfolded first, and all I knew was that my whole body was measured carefully from head to toe (Helen told me later that exactly the same happened to her). But my Mistress flatly refused to tell me the purpose of this; "It'll be a surprise," was her only answer, as we were walking back to our hotel. (Master Paul and Helen had left us to go back to their accommodation, a 'honeymoon' chalet where they catered for themselves.)

My Mistress made me take a long hot shower while she relaxed and made "arrangements for the evening"! Then she lay back in a tub of steaming water while I carefully and gently bathed her lovely body. As I did so I realised that, despite a slight case of infatuation with Helen's gorgeous face and body, I really adore my Mistress' long black hair, her handsome face that can be so stern or so gentle, her slim strong body with the firm cone-shaped breasts (slightly small, perhaps, but so well-proportioned) and their prominent nipples, and (maybe most of all) her long smooth thighs and legs that can clutch my head so tightly when I worship at her pleasure-centre nestling between them, framed by thick curls and dark with desire for the attentions of my tongue.

My thoughts must have been almost transparent to her because after I had patted her dry -- with thick towels and very gently! -- she allowed me to plant lots of little kisses all over her body from the hollow in her throat, over her breasts, across her belly to the dark thatch of her pussy where she kept my lips working just long enough to bring her to a gentle sighing climax.

Next she made me dress her -- in a simple red dress with a full skirt and only narrow shoulder straps, over the minimum underwear of bra and g-string briefs that left her buttocks completely bare. With elegant sandals in a matching red, she was ready to go to dinner -- but first she made me shackle my own ankles with cuffs and a short chain and attach one end of a light chrome chain to my 'ball-lock'.

A taxi was waiting for us at the hotel entrance. It had no doors, and my Mistress got in and sat down, then told me to stand in the opening and act as a door, gripping a bar in the open top to keep from falling off. We drove off and soon arrived at a group of small buildings; Master Paul was waiting with Helen on a leash behind him, got into the taxi and told Helen to take up her position opposite me. Once again her naked beauty hit me, with the inevitable effect on my cock ... and of course my Mistress noticed without appearing to, and spent the rest of our journey playing almost absentmindedly with it.

When the taxi stopped, Helen and I stepped down and waited quietly while our 'owners' got out, then we obeyed the tugs on our leashes as they entered the restaurant. Two slaves, naked except for ankle shackles, greeted them and showed them to a table; but when my Mistress went to sit down, the male slave said, "Pardon me ma'am, but your seat is not ready yet."

Master Paul said, "What do you mean?" then looked hard at the seats beside the table ... which were shaped very strangely indeed.

The slave waitress replied, "We have a custom in this restaurant that slaves provide seats for Masters and Mistresses -- they lie face up on the benches and you, sir, may sit in comfort on their bellies."

Master Paul protested that his weight would be too much for his slave to bear, but the girl persisted: "No sir, the bench is like a waterbed -- she will feel some weight but it won't crush her. But if you wish, sir, I'll take her place ... if you will order her to take mine as your waitress."

My Mistress and Master Paul looked more closely at the benches and were satisfied enough to say, "No, thank you," to this offer and, "Come along, slave," to Helen and me. We obediently lay down on the slightly yielding surface of the benches and quickly had our wrists shackled to the floor by the other two slaves. Then my Mistress sat down on my belly and I found that her weight was by no means unbearable; what's more, it was humiliating and exciting at the same time to be used simply as a naked living cushion!

Our two owners clearly enjoyed it too; during the meal my Mistress' hands were constantly caressing my body -- often one hand would be on my nipples and the other on my cock -- and under the table I could see Master Paul doing the same to Helen. The benches were so arranged that Helen's and my heads were at the same side of the table and quite close together, and we could talk quietly without disturbing our owners; it was also the side of the table from which the waiters served, and we had a first-class view of their naked bodies as they leaned over us with food and wine.

Quite early on my Mistress realised that she could toss her skirt back over my body and actually sit skin-on-skin, which was even more enjoyable (for both of us!); when she told Master Paul about this, he replied, "You make me envious. I can't do that so easily with trousers; maybe next time I should wear a kaftan or something similar!" They chatted animatedly the whole time and obviously enjoyed a delicious dinner -- Helen and I got our share too, opening our mouths on cue to have morsels of food dropped in.

After dinner we moved into a small auditorium where the seating was arranged on steps so that we slaves could kneel in front of our owners' chairs and be used as footstools while still being able to see the show over the heads of the next row. The show was a display of Bondage and Discipline, featuring a number of 'Masters' and 'Mistresses', wearing dramatic costumes, and their slaves, who were either naked throughout or in a few cases were roughly stripped during their act. It was pretty impressive -- the action was constant, the bondage was tight, the variety of positions was enormous (some brought gasps from the audience as slaves' bodies were forced into severe contortions) and some slaves even received quite severe whippings (we were assured that these were all real masochists, who actually got a lot of pleasure from it!).

My Mistress and Master Paul obviously enjoyed it all -- several times they commented, "Hey look at that! Must try it out sometime!" and nudged Helen and me with their feet. When the show closed with the announcement that two nights hence there would be a competition involving speed and variety of bondage, they made certain on our way out to book seats. I noticed that they were given a piece of paper with their tickets, which they read on their way home in the taxi and then exchanged smiles and nods, and I wondered what it was all about.

Back in our hotel room, I had to undress my Mistress; then she lay down on the bed and said, "Now slave, I want you to show me how you feel about my body -- you may start with your tongue on my right big toe...." My hands were free tonight and she made me use them, caressing her all over while I followed her directions with my eager tongue. I spent a long time licking her lovely breasts and sucking and nibbling her nipples; then my fingers continued to stimulate them when she directed my mouth down to her moist pussy. She let her arousal build very slowly and it was about two hours before my busy tongue brought her to a moaning, writhing orgasm that seemed to go on and on....

After resting a while, she 'put me to bed' on my pallet, padlocking to a ring the chain that had not left my ankles all day and tying my wrists firmly but comfortably in front of me. I was as excited as hell (my cock had never been fondled so much in a week, let alone one day!) but she ignored my hopeful looks, patted me on the head with a "Sleep well!" and turned out the light.

One of the conditions of my slavery is that I must NOT bring myself off without express permission (and asking for that permission is liable to any punishment my Mistress might choose!). I had to content myself with stroking my cock without letting myself come -- and I did so for quite a while before I eventually fell asleep.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 4. In Harness ... and Other Bondage.

The next morning we slept quite late.

When my Mistress sent me down to fetch our breakfast, the foyer was quite crowded; but I was getting more used to the looks my nakedness occasioned as I hobbled (I still wore my ankle shackles!) through and returned with the tray. This time my Mistress released my arms from the tray and made me feed her, saying with a grin, "You've had it easy quite enough, I think -- I've fed you for most of our meals here!"

As we ate, she mentioned that she'd been on the phone already; "...and we have an exciting day ahead of us," she continued, "We'll be sharing most of it with Master Paul and his slave-girl. I'm enjoying Master Paul's company and I hope you're enjoying having another slave for company - and such a pretty one, too, don't you agree? - yes I thought you would!"

She flicked a finger-nail at my cock, which had immediately stood up at the mention of Helen, and grinned, "Now you watch yourself, my boy, it's me, your Mistress, you should be excited by, remember? I may get jealous, and jealousy can make me very cruel! And keep in mind that Helen with her big tits and sexy pussy is Master Paul's property, and if you take any liberties you'll have to answer to him!"

I felt like pointing out that I might be a little jealous, too, at the attention she was giving to Master Paul, but thought better of it -- after all, she really hadn't overstepped our agreement in any way. What's more, I didn't want to risk not seeing Helen again!

Tingling with anticipation, I helped my Mistress dress, in a brief halter top and slacks tucked inside a pair of sexy boots. She removed my ankle-shackles, so that I was completely unfettered except for the padlock on my balls, then ordered me to follow her.

We met Master Paul and Helen in the foyer. Helen was unfettered like me and looked just as gorgeous as she had yesterday; I wanted to throw my arms around her and press her lovely body against mine, but of course I didn't dare and had to content myself with a friendly smile which she returned almost shyly. Greeting Master Paul affectionately, my Mistress led the way downstairs... to the 'stables'!

She gave her room number to the girl on duty, and as we waited she said to Master Paul, "My slave has been here before, but it might be interesting to see how yours reacts." A moment later our 'escorts' appeared, this time a man and a woman, both quite young and obedient and naked as usual. The man took Helen's arm and the girl took mine and we followed our owners and their guide to where two 'rickshaws' awaited us. Helen's face showed interest and puzzlement at first, but this turned to surprised comprehension as she was led to the drawbar of one of the 'rickshaws'!

She resisted a little at first, with a pleading look at Master Paul; but when he smiled encouragingly and said, "It'll be OK, I promise you," she allowed herself to be harnessed. The two slaves worked quickly, fitting a large heavily padded collar on her neck (not as high at the front as the one I'd worn) and attaching straps that went around her head like a bridle. More straps from the front of the collar encircled her firm tits (making them seem larger than ever) and a padded one was buckled very tightly around her waist, and all these were joined by a single strap passed down through the lips of her pussy to the drawbar.

Yet another was attached between the drawbar and the back of her waist-strap, and the guide showed Master Paul how this could be adjusted to take more or less of the strain "to vary the pressure on your slave's pussy and clit, depending on how accustomed your slave is to this and, of course, on how strict or kind you feel at the moment... and here on the inside of her pussy-strap is this knob you can adjust to put pressure right on the spot that could help her enjoy her work a lot!" Helen gave a small gasp as Master Paul adjusted the knob and patted it gently.

A few minutes later I was harnessed too, exactly as I had been the other day, except that now I also wore a collar-and-bridle arrangement like Helen's. Our arms were still free, but not for long; the purpose of the straps over our heads became apparent when our arms were doubled and our wrists were fastened to the sides of our heads, turning our elbows into strange 'blinkers'!

I wondered for a moment how they were going to steer us, but I should have guessed -- the final touches were strong spring clamps on our nipples and reins clipped to them!

Our owners stood in front of us for a moment, inspecting us with appreciation and a touch of amusement. Suddenly Master Paul turned and whispered something to my Mistress; she smiled and nodded eagerly, and Master Paul faced us and spoke.

"Now slaves, we're not going to gag you, but we want you to remember that as of now you are just harness-slaves... horses, if you like, and horses don't talk. So we expect you not to talk at all -- to us or each other -- until our little outing is over. If you really want to, you may make 'horsey' noises," -- my Mistress giggled at this -- "but that would probably sound a bit silly. Shall we go, Tina?" he finished.

And so we went. My Mistress rode behind Helen (she was lighter than Master Paul, who 'drove' me) and for Helen's benefit she walked her slowly around the yard several times before going out.

Master Paul made me stand by and we watched; Helen looked magnificent -- her large breasts were thrust forward proudly, her long shapely legs moved so gracefully, and I could see how the strap between her legs disappeared into her blond thatch on each step. Then my Mistress turned her towards the gate, Master Paul gave my ribs a sharp flick with his switch, and I followed.

The path rose quite steeply for a short distance outside the gate and we had gone only halfway up when Helen stopped abruptly. My Mistress flicked the switch at her sides once, twice and the third time quite hard, saying "Giddyap there, filly!" but Helen refused to move. Instead she shook her head violently, making a sound between a sob and a whinny.

"Hold on a minute," called Master Paul behind me, and he got out of his seat, gave my reins to my Mistress and went to Helen.

"What's the matter, old thing?" he asked soothingly. "Is this too much for you? D'you want to stop?" -- Helen shook her head emphatically -- "Ah, is the strap hurting?" and she nodded vigorously!

Master Paul adjusted the strap to her waist to take more strain and said, "Let's try that, then." He walked beside Helen for a while and made further adjustments, and when she indicated it was OK, he hugged her warmly and said, "Good girl -- I'm proud of you, behaving so well and letting me know without talking."

He returned to his carriage and we went on. A few minutes later the path widened and he goaded me into a jog to overtake my Mistress and as he passed called to Helen, "Better?" I turned my head enough to see her smile brightly and nod. (Some days later she and I were chatting and she told me how those adjustments had changed the pressure on her clit from very painful to a light pull of varying pressure which was very very exciting!)

We naked 'horses' pulled our owners' carriages a long way that morning. They explored not only the quieter scenic trails through the woods and along the cliffs, but also drove us through some of the streets where people watched us pass with varied comments or amazed stares.

Occasionally we stopped and our owners left our reins tied to 'hitching-rails' to walk out to some vantage point. On an almost deserted beach with an expanse of hard-packed sand, they challenged each other to a few races; Helen and I both received quite a few marks from their switches as they 'drove' us to speeds that really never exceeded a fast jog.

Once, when our drivers took different paths at a fork (not realising that the fork was actually a loop of the one path) Helen and I came face to face; our drivers playfully refused to back up and made us push against each other for a few moments. It was very pleasant in a way to be able to press my naked body against Helen's smooth curves, but the clamps digging into my nipples did detract from the the pleasure somewhat!

We also came across a patch of rough path that had a remarkable effect on Helen. I was in front at the time, but even I heard her breath suddenly quicken almost into a whistle; Master Paul heard it too, of course -- she was right behind him -- and he stopped and said to my Mistress, "I think this surface is giving our little filly some nice vibrations; why don't you turn around and go back over it?"

She grinned mischievously and did just that -- coaxing Helen along that stretch of path at varying speeds four more times! After the fourth Helen stood in front of Master Paul and me, her back arched and her hips thrust forward to get more tension on the crotch-strap as my Mistress held the carriage back, and moaned as she abandoned herself to a shuddering climax.

When it passed, she looked at us quite shamefacedly, but Master Paul leaned over, kissed her deeply and murmured, "Wasn't that fun? Don't be ashamed -- you looked absolutely lovely! Want to do it again later?" Helen looked at me and blushed deeply... but smiled and nodded!

When we came that way again some time later, Helen's rising excitement was apparent long before we even reached the spot. This time Master Paul took her reins and managed to stretch out her 'performance' even longer; he drove her through twelve 'laps', the first few very slowly (her excitement was building more through anticipation than physical stimulation), gradually speeding her up but resting a minute or so between laps, and at the end he brought her face to face with me!

As she arched her hips forward her pussy pressed against my cock (which was quite naturally rock-hard!); I drew back, not wanting to offend my Mistress, but then I heard her quiet voice behind me: "No, don't pull back." Just then Helen's moan began to turn almost into a scream and Master Paul said, "She'll have the police on to us -- kiss her, slave!"

I obeyed eagerly... and when our mouths met (a bit awkwardly due to our elbow 'blinkers'), Helen fastened her lips hungrily to mine, crushed her wonderful breasts against my chest (ignoring the pressure of the clamps on her nipples) and screamed her ecstasy deep into my mouth!

This time, when she caught her breath, she didn't look ashamed; instead she looked into my eyes and opened her mouth as if to say something... but stopped herself just in time and turned it into a brilliant smile. And there was something in her eyes that touched off a thrill deep inside me and my cock seemed to get harder than ever, if possible.

I was very close to having a climax myself and I looked pleadingly at my Mistress, hoping that she'd help me over the top with her hand or perhaps Master Paul would let me put my cock between Helen's luscious thighs? She read my expression correctly, but shook her head with a gentle smile, reached across to give my cock's purple head a firm squeeze and eased my arousal.

I whimpered in sheer frustration -- I could have howled! It's not fair, I thought, Helen's had two climaxes but I'm not allowed to have any... why doesn't she let me come?

In another way, though, I was glad she hadn't -- I would have felt a bit silly standing there in front of Helen and Master Paul with my cock spurting its load over the ground. Men do look ridiculous sometimes -- not that this thought did much to ease my frustration... and I couldn't help envying Helen and my Mistress their inborn ability to have one climax after another!

My Mistress helped by turning it into a joke; she said to Master Paul as we went on: "My slave's a pretty randy colt, isn't he?... yes, what do you think I could do about him?... well, maybe gelding him would be a little drastic, but it's an interesting idea, isn't it?" Even I couln't help joining in their delighted laughter.

A short while later we stopped for lunch at a small cafe with a sign saying, "Special facilities for harness slaves"! Helen and I were released from our drawbars and the clips were removed from our nipples; the quick kneading with strong fingers just afterwards brought squeals from us both as their dull throb turned into tingling pleasure-pain. Our arm-blinkers were lowered, our wrists were loosely shackled behind our backs and we were tethered with light chains on our head-harnesses. My Mistress and Master Paul gave us each an affectionate pat and went inside.

Left alone, Helen and I looked at each other; the "no talking" order was still in force, but we needed no words -- in unison we sank wearily to the soft grass and relaxed with loud sighs. We had hardly moved when after a while a slave-waiter brought out a wooden crate and put it in front of us. "There you are, horsies! Eat up!" he grinned, then whistled appreciatively as he took in Helen's lush naked curves. "Hey, I think I'll ask your owner if you need a rub down!" Helen's reply was a tired but still friendly smile.

The crate had bowls fixed to it, filled with cold but appetising food and refreshing drink. Knives and forks were set out too -- not that we could use them with our hands behind our backs! We had to kneel and eat right from the bowls like the filly and colt we were pretending to be.

We ate and drank in silence, but when I'd licked my bowl clean I couldn't resist saying "Yum-yum!" Helen giggled and a moment later we were laughingly exchanging a variety of wordless and semi-wordless noises. Her laugh was so musical and her lovely face so animated that suddenly I heard myself say, "I like you, Helen!"

She stared at me and we both looked at the restaurant, where we could see my Mistress and Master Paul sitting at a window and chatting animatedly. Then I realised there was no way they could hear us and I said so to Helen; she was reluctant to disobey the instructions, but she saw my point and we did talk a little as we rested through the remainder of our lunch break.

Being only too aware of the effect Helen was having on me, I tried to keep to neutral topics, but at one point Helen said, "I wanted to thank you for letting me press against you back there -- it made it easier to cope with you all watching me"!

Blushing a little, she continued: "You see, Master Paul has never before made me come in front of anyone else; the first time I tried so hard to stop myself, but then I found it was thrilling in quite a new way... and especially when I could sort of share it with another slave who is dependent on your Mistress for pleasure."

Somehow this led to us leaning against each other and kissing -- the touch of her naked flesh had the inevitable effect, and I was about to blurt out something like hoping that my Mistress and her Master might let us make love sometime. Part of me knew it really wasn't the right time... and just then the waiter-slave appeared to collect our dishes, and we tacitly agreed not to speak any more because our 'owners' might come out at any moment.

When they did emerge a few minutes later, they re-harnessed us with solicitous questions about how we'd enjoyed our lunch and rest. It really was quite painful to have the clips applied again to our still-very-tender nipples, but Helen and I bore it bravely -- if not silently! To my surprise we went directly back to the stables at the hotel, where my Mistress and Master Paul simply left us in the care of two stable-slaves; "Give them a rub down," they ordered, "then bring them to bondage room 2."

The stable-slaves un-harnessed us, leaving our wrists shackled behind us, and led us us into a sort of shower-stall. There they used hoses to douse us with cool water and large thick (and quite rough!) towels to dry us off. Once again we both squealed loudly when the towels rubbed over our poor nipples, but otherwise the 'rub down' was very pleasant -- and not only for us! The male slave obviously got a lot of enjoyment from running his hands over Helen's smooth curves, and my 'privates' were very thoroughly fondled by the naked girl who was washing me.

My Mistress and Master Paul were waiting when we were led into a room that was clearly well equipped for bondage. On their instructions the stable-slaves positioned us over two posts set in the floor; they raised the posts until the U-shaped bars on top fitted snugly between the cheeks of our bums and up to our bellies. Then they went out, leaving us unable to move yet with only our wrists shackled! We faced my Mistress and Master Paul and I wondered what was about to happen next.

"Well, that's the end of your stint as harness-slaves," said Master Paul with a grin, "and you're just ordinary slaves again, so you're allowed to talk -- under the usual rules of course. We're very pleased with the way you've behaved, not talking and acting your part just as we hoped you would. But we will ask you one question: did you talk while we were having lunch?"

Very quickly I thought, "There's no way they could have overheard our conversation!" and without hesitation I lied, "No." But I wasn't quick enough to give Helen a cue; she answered, "Yes Master" at exactly the same moment!

"Well, well, well," said Master Paul. "This is interesting -- does it mean that you were the only one who talked, slave-girl?"

Helen hesitated, then replied in a small voice, "Please Master, do I have to answer that?"

"No, slave-girl," my Mistress interrupted. "Let's try this another way -- what do you say to Master Paul's question, slave-boy?"

I was trapped and embarrassed at being caught out. "No, Mistress," I replied. "I lied; we both talked. I thought we could get away with it, but I should have known better -- I'm sorry, Mistress."

She looked at me a little sadly and said, "I'm disappointed in you, and you'll have to be punished for trying to lie to me, of course. You'll both have to be punished for talking in the first place, and to decide your penalty we want you to remember how many times you spoke. We're not particularly concerned about what you said -- just in how much you disobeyed. Now we'll leave you alone for a while to count... and maybe this will help you to remember." And from her handbag she produced a miniature tape recorder!

I stared, then looked at Helen and we exchanged rueful smiles. My Mistress chuckled at our expressions and explained: "The waiter put this inside the crate. It was a bit sneaky, I guess, and it suggests we didn't trust you, but..." -- she became stern -- "...with good reason, it seems.

"Anyway, we're glad you confessed without us having to listen to the tape." She changed my wrist shackles to hold my hands in front so that I could work the recorder; "We'll give you fifteen minutes, so you'll have to skip through the tape fairly quickly," she said as they went out.

Helen and I were alone again. "It was my fault we started talking," I apologised. "I'm sorry; I'll take all the blame and all the punishments."

"Nonsense!" Helen retorted. "I could have kept quiet if I'd wanted to. I've got to learn to obey my Master completely. Anyway, I'm glad I said what I did!" I protested, but she refused to listen. "We're wasting time," she said. "Now let's think... you said something first...."

It seemed less than 15 minutes when my Mistress and Master Paul returned, dressed in dramatic black leather domination costumes. They stood facing us and Master Paul spoke: "Well, how did the counting go? How many times did you open your pretty mouth, my girl?"

With a sheepish smile Helen replied, "Twelve times, Master," and Master Paul emitted a low whistle.

"A veritable little chatterbox, aren't we?" he grinned. "And how many of those were speeches of more than one or two sentences, eh?"

Helen thought for a moment and said, "Three, I think, Master."

"And what about you, slave-boy?" continued my Mistress. "What did you contribute to the conversation?"

"Please Mistress," I began, "I started talking first...." but she interrupted me with "Just answer the question -- how many times did you speak?"

Humbly I replied, "Ten times, Mistress."

"And how many speeches?"

"One, Mistress."

"They did have quite a little chat, didn't they?" she said to Master Paul. "What do you think they deserve?" After a short discussion they decided "to be lenient" and award three lashes with a light 'cat-o-nine-tails' for each 'time' plus three more for each 'speech'.

"Let's see -- that's 36 plus 9 for my slave-girl," said Master Paul, "and 30 plus 3 for your slave."

"And he deserves some extra for trying to decieve us," chimed in my Mistress. "Shall we make it a nice round 50 for both of the chatterboxes?"

They made Helen and me give the punishment to each other! We were released from the poles, our wrists were unshackled and we were each given a 'cat'. On my Mistress' order, I stood with my hands clasped behind my back and my body thrust forward, and Helen was told to start whipping my belly lightly at first but each stroke harder until my Mistress decided it was hard enough. Then I had to apply my 'cat' across Helen's belly to establish the strength of my blows to Master Paul's satisfaction.

"OK, that was just for practice," he said. "Try to maintain that strength... and try to spread the strokes evenly, all down the front from shoulders to knees. You first, slave-girl, give five strokes to your partner-in-crime!"

After every five strokes, we traded places. The thongs were quite light and the strength we had to use wasn't enough to cause severe pain, but they still stung sharply, especially when they landed on the more sensitive spots on our naked bodies!

I had never whipped anybody before, much less a beautiful naked girl like Helen, and I found it strangely exciting... which was soon reflected in the state of my cock and made it an inviting target for Helen... and despite my grunts of pain, this only increased my excitement. For her part Helen squealed softly as my lashes wrapped around her magnificent tits, and a little more loudly when once or twice the tips of the thongs crept round the curve of a thigh into her crotch... but there was no mistaking the meaning of her rapid breathing and shining eyes!

Our bodies were a mass of small red weals when our punishment was complete -- but I knew that the marks would fade quite quickly. "Well, perhaps you've learned a lesson, slaves," said my Mistress, "and just in case you're worried about what you said...." She pressed the 'erase' button on the recorder and put it aside, then addressed Master Paul, "Now let's get on with the real reason we reserved this room for the afternoon, shall we?"

That reason, as Helen and I soon discovered, was BONDAGE! For the next few hours we were subjected to such a large variety of bondage techniques and positions that I can't begin to remember them all.

I do remember some parts, however. For a while our 'owners' demonstrated to each other how they each bound their slave in a number of 'classic' bondage poses -- like a spreadeagle, a hogtie, to a post, to a chair, etc. Then they would discuss which was the better way, or think of variations and try them out on both of us.

And quite often, when Helen and I were tied in one of these ways, they would go to a corner of the room and consult notes or something and whisper eagerly together. I couldn't help wondering what it was all about!

The room was incredibly well equipped for bondage with a huge array of ropes, chains and cuffs, bars, frames and benches, and facilities for stretching and suspending slaves' bodies in every imaginable way... and some I wouldn't have thought of in years!

One wall was mirrored and so was most of the ceiling, so that at virtually all times Helen and I could see our own (and each other's) naked bodies, bent, stretched, twisted or hung... but always tightly bound. All the equipment (benches, chairs, posts etc.) was ingeniously constructed to fold away out of sight when not needed, and there were two of everything... very convenient for practising bondage on two slaves at once!

I love being tied up -- naked, helpless and utterly in the power of my Mistress; and it wasn't hard to see that my lovely naked companion-in-bondage felt much the same way. The most vivid memories I have of that afternoon were the times Helen and I were tied together; never before had I been tied with -- and to -- a naked woman, and I found it incredibly exciting. And of the 'combined bondage' positions, three are especially memorable....

The first was when they made Helen and me stand face-to-face, then made Helen spread her legs wide and attached ropes to her ankles and mine leading to opposite walls (from her ankles to the wall behind me and vice versa!) They did the same to our arms, Helen's reaching up and over my shoulders and mine under hers. Finally they put wide straps behind our backs in the same way and carefully took up the slack on all these ropes and began to draw them gradually tighter.

Helen's feet left the floor first and I had to support some of her weight on my thighs and upper arms, but before my feet were pulled off the floor they placed a very narrow bench under my buttocks. Eventually our bodies were pressed together so closely that it was was impossible for our owners to slip their fingers between us (they tried!) and we were virtually suspended in an intimate embrace that was very, very exciting!

Later Helen was laid face up on a bench and bound securely with her hips raised and (after some experimental spreading of her legs) her ankles lifted almost vertically towards the ceiling. I was made to stand with wide-spread ankles and my face just touching her feet (I was even encouraged to lick them a little!); my arms were fastened tightly behind my back in a single-sleeve which kept them close together and very straight.

The whirr of the pulley motors began (these were adjustable and capable of pulling on different ropes at different rates, exactly as required!) and I began to understand! Helen's lovely legs were drawn apart and at the same time my arms were drawn upwards, very slowly forcing my head down towards the centre of the steadily widening Vee of her thighs.

The whole of her gorgeous body was open to my gaze; I could see Master Paul's hands fondling her firm tits and erect nipples, and I could also feel my Mistress' clever fingers reaching between my spread legs to fondle my cock and balls. When at last my mouth reached Helen's pussy, her legs were spread so widely they must have been almost horizontal.

Her excitement had been evident in her eyes from the moment she saw my face appear between her separating ankles, and by now it had reached such a level that she came after only a few moments of work by my willing tongue. Her climax went on for a long time, and I enjoyed giving her this pleasure... but a small part of me was saying, "That's three orgasms for her already today -- when will it be my turn?"

I thought my turn had come a while later, in what proved to be the last piece of bondage our owners put us into. They clearly had a specific idea in mind, but they had to experiment a good deal before getting it right.

Eventually they made Helen and me sit side-by-side with our legs crossed tailor-fashion and strapped our ankles tightly together and our calves to our thighs, keeping our knees widely apart; then they made us rise on to our spread knees and lean forward, resting our shoulders on a low bench. They tied our wrists and elbows tightly behind us palm-to-palm and finally passed straps from our wrists to our ankles and drew them very tight.

Lifting us to balance on our knees, they turned us to face each other; our naked bodies were arched by the tension on the wrist-to-ankle strap and I could only stare at what this did to Helen's luscious curves! Then my Mistress lowered me to lie on my arms; this was quite uncomfortable... but suddenly I became only too aware of how completely accessible my whole body was -- she began to play with it!

Looking to one side I could see in the mirror that Master Paul was doing the same with Helen, but after only a few moments he put his hands under her shoulders and actually lifted her right off the floor until his lips could reach her nipples, then slowly allowed her naked arched body to slide down his own. Just then I felt my Mistress' hands on my cock; it was not quite hard and she held it upright directly below Helen's slowly descending body.

It seemed my 'turn' had come at last! My Mistress was going to let -- no, make -- my eager prick enter Helen's sexy cunt! Not surprisingly, it got hard very quickly... but once again I was to be denied; Helen's crossed ankles made contact with my arched belly before her pussy reached even the tip of my cock! My Mistress spent a few moments looking at the relative positions of these important parts of our bodies, then Master Paul laid Helen down beside me and he and my Mistress went into their huddle again.

Perhaps my frustration lent sharpness to my hearing or maybe they were whispering a little more loudly; I actually caught some of their words. They were saying, "...can't do it... the angle's wrong... no, maybe we can make it work... try to think of something different..." and finally "...not now, it's getting late, don't you think?"

A few minutes later Helen and I were free of bonds for the first time in hours, but we weren't given much time to stretch our cramped limbs. My Mistress said, "I'll meet you at your chalet at seven, then," to Master Paul, clipped a leash to my 'ball-lock' and led me away.

I followed meekly, wondering what they had planned for the evening... and suddenly became aware that we weren't going towards our room. Instead she led me down two flights of stairs, stopped in front of a desk and said to the uniformed hotel clerk behind it: "I'd like to leave my slave in a cell overnight, please. I've made other plans for the evening. Room 64."

I was stunned speechless! In a complete daze I heard the clerk's "Certainly, ma'am. Any particular restraints?" and my Mistress' reply: "No, perhaps just a tether on his visitor's padlock." I think my mouth was still open from the initial shock when my Mistress gave me a bright smile and a pat on the bum and was gone!

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 5: In the Cells ... and Out on Loan!

The 'cells' were precisely that -- two rows of them facing each other across a corridor. Their doors and the partitions between them were made of heavy bars and the fourth side was of stone, with an abundance of rings set solidly in it. Unresisting (my mind was still grappling with my Mistress' last words) I was led into one of them and the padlock on my balls was attached to a very solid chain.

My 'jailer' (a big strong male slave) looked me up and down and said, "Your Mistress hasn't asked for any restraints, but I warn you - any shouting or banging around and you'll spend the night like him ... or her." He indicated two nearby cells; in one a naked man was spreadeagled with very heavy chains against the stone wall, and in the other a naked girl lay prone, her ankles, wrists and neck secured in stock-like devices. Both were securely gagged.

I nodded wordlessly and he left, closing the cell door with a solid clang. I sat down on the pallet and tried to think. My Mistress had "other plans" for tonight, did she? That could only mean: she'd been getting very friendly with Master Paul and she was going to spend the night with him! Jealousy flared up in me; how dare she?!... and even if it was OK for her to have sex with Master Paul, why couldn't I do the same with Helen? That thought had its predictable effect on my cock, and almost automatically my hand began to....

As if on cue, the jailer suddenly appeared outside my cell and said, "Your Mistress has just called down and told us that she doesn't mind if you play with yourself, but you're not to let yourself come. We'll be watching you" -- he pointed into the top corner of the cell, and there I could see the lens of a closed-circuit TV camera -- "...not all the time, but you won't know when you're on camera or not. And if we see you doing something you shouldn't, we'll report it to your Mistress and I think you'll be sorry!"

She is being a bitch today, I thought. But gradually I began to see another side to all this: our agreement had never specified that she may not have a lover. Obviously, my jealousy was surfacing because this was the first time it had happened (as far as I knew!)... and perhaps also because of my frustrated attraction for Helen! What was more, I realised that, by leaving me here overnight, my Mistress was in no way overstepping our agreement. Feeling a little better, I began to take in some more of my surroundings.

Apart from my first night on the island, I'd never been in a real cell before; and, submissive as I am, the idea began to excite me! I could look down the whole row of cells and see other prisoners just like myself, but most of them were somewhat remote. As for the nearby cells: the one across the corridor held the man chained to the wall, the one to my left was empty, but the one to my right contained a small and quite pretty black girl. She noticed me looking at her, smiled and said, "Hello. You're looking around as if it's your first time in here. You're a visitor, aren't you?"

It was a new experience, and an exciting one, to chat through the bars of a cell with another naked prisoner. Her name was Suzy, she told me, and she'd been a full-time slave to her white Mistress ever since her sixteenth birthday. She'd spent more nights than she could remember in one of these or other cells; on this occasion she'd spent the last two nights here and would be here for two more "...because," she said a little ruefully, "I annoyed my Mistress three days ago and she decided to put me in here until she puts me up for public punishment the day after tomorrow."

I asked what she'd done; "Oh," she said lightly, "I argued with her in the street. That's a public offence, so I'll be punished publicly. The trouble is, it'll never cure me, because I just love being whipped in public -- though it does hurt at the time. Look!" She turned her back to me and it was clear that she'd been whipped often and quite severely; there were many weals across her back, buttocks and thighs, some of them obviously quite old.

She was wearing unusual shackles, I noticed; her elbows were joined by a chain behind her back, short but not so as to be really uncomfortable. To my question, "Why are you shackled like that?," she replied frankly, "My Mistress doesn't like me to play with myself, so she makes this chain just too short..." - she demonstrated, and sure enough, when she stretched one hand down and around, it failed by two inches to reach her pussy - "...and she keeps my legs apart so I can't even excite myself by rubbing my thighs together...." I looked down and saw that her ankles were spread by a bar about two feet long.

"Hey!" she continued. "Your hands are free -- would you like to reach through the bars and give me a thrill? I haven't had one for two days!"

I hesitated. "What if your Mistress finds out?" I protested. "I don't want to get us both in trouble."

But Suzy replied, "Don't worry. She doesn't mind other people doing it to me -- she just doesn't let me do it. Isn't that right, Stan?"

"She's right, friend," came a man's voice from two cells down and across the corridor. "I'd gladly help her myself, but my arms aren't long enough!"

"See?" said Suzy. "C'mon, be a sport! I'm dying for it; there hasn't been anybody in your cell since I've been here, and this silly bitch..." (she indicated the cell on the other side of hers, where the girl lay helpless in the stocks) "...kicked up a ruckus when she was put in and hasn't hardly been able to wriggle a finger since! Please, oh please!!..." And she faced the bars between our cells and pressed her naked body against them.

I'm a normal(?!) male and I found the invitation to good to refuse. Reaching through the bars, I began to caress Suzy's satiny black skin. She had a good body, very slim but nicely curved with quite small pointed breasts tipped with dark aureoles and large nipples. I fondled these with both hands for a while before running my fingers down her flanks to her knees and then up the inside of her slim smooth thighs.

Her response was electric; within moments her eyes closed and she began moaning softly deep in her throat and writhing gently against the bars. I toyed with her a while, scratching my nails gently all around her wide-open pussy but not touching it; I was enjoying this small measure of control and I waited until she began to beg softly, "Please... now... my clit... please!"

Without warning, I plunged two fingers deep into her cunt and with the other hand located her pleasure-button and began to rub it, rapidly. She reacted with a small squeal; "Yes, yes... there... yes... faster... oh that's good...!" she murmured and pressed harder against the bars. She came quickly, with a long moan that turned into a subdued scream as my busy fingers took her over the top. But when I withdrew my hands, her eyes opened and she said breath lessly, "More, please?... That was great, but next time a bit slower, eh?"

How could I refuse? Suzy remained pressed against the bars of her cell, her legs spread wide, for the half hour or so it took to give her another climax. She was on some sort of pleasure-plateau that I was able to maintain by running my hands all over her body, giving her sharp little pinches now and then and rolling her large nipples quite firmly with finger and thumb.

Finally she got me to spread the lips of her pussy widely with one hand while kneading her knob-like clit in a similar way, slowly and gently at first, then faster as she built towards a second climax. Suddenly... "Pinch it!" she begged, and (as I did so), "Harder!... now pull it!... yes!... oh! oh! oh!..." and her words changed into a high-pitched whistle through her nose as she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming out loud.

At precisely that moment I became aware of the jailer outside the cells, pushing bowls of food through the bars. He stopped to watch Suzy's naked body writhing in orgasm against the bars, and grinned at me; "She didn't take long to talk you into giving her some fun, did she? I know her Mistress doesn't mind, but I'll have to report it to yours -- she may have other ideas! Now eat your dinner; if you're not finished when I come back, that's your bad luck!"

I didn't know what to say, but by now Suzy had recovered enough to grin at him and poke out her tongue cheekily. Then she turned to me with a lovely smile and said, "Thanks, that was terrific! Maybe you'd like to do it again later tonight?... you would?... Great! But now we better eat or we'll go hungry".

The bowls containing our food had spoons attached to them by thin chains, and with my hands free I was able to eat normally; but Suzy, without the use of her hands, had to get down on her knees (not easy, with her ankles apart as they were, but she managed it with a grace that clearly indicated long practice!) and eat right from the bowl. Between mouthfuls we talked a bit more; she said regretfully, "It's a pity I can't reach far enough through the bars to return your favour. I heard that about your Mistress not wanting you to bring yourself off, but maybe she's like mine and wouldn't mind if someone else did it."

I had already thought of that, but I could see it was impossible anyway; there were two sets of bars between the cells, about twelve inches apart, and Suzy's shackled hands might at best be just able to touch the tip of my cock if I poked it between the bars. And even more impossible was another thought I'd had; namely, that I would have liked to put my cock right into Suzy's tight cunt! It looked as if I'd have to settle for giving her pleasure.

A little later even that was denied me! No sooner had the jailer taken away our empty bowls than he was back and unlocking my cell door. "You're wanted elsewhere," he said. "Hands behind your back, please!"

As he strapped my crossed wrists tightly together, he said cheerfully to Suzy, "Lucky you got your bit of fun out of this one so early! Looks like your over-sexed little twat will have to go hungry again tonight!... Watch your manners, you little tart!" he continued sharply when she pulled a face and blew him a loud raspberry.

When my wrists were secured to his satisfaction, he made me open my mouth to accept a gag and then fitted over my head a helmet which covered everything but my nose and mouth (and that was already blocked!). As it encased my head, I realised that it was very thickly padded -- I was dumb and blind and could hear only very faintly!

Naturally I started walking rather tentatively when the jailer led me out of the cell, but I realised that I had no choice but to trust myself to him. And anyway (I told myself) I'll soon be back with my Mistress; obviously she'd changed her mind and wanted me with her after all.

I was led outside and helped into a car; after a short drive (I wondered where my Mistress was and what she had in store for me) I was helped out again and led into a building. My wrists were untied, only to be pulled above my head and widely apart; then my ankles were also drawn apart until I was stretched in a taut spreadeagle. Finally I felt the helmet being removed and I blinked at the light, expecting to see a familiar face.

But the woman who stood in front of me wasn't my Mistress! It took me a few moments to recognise her as Mistress Anne, who had loaned my Mistress the bond money. "Remember me?" she asked... and I nodded.

"Now," she continued, "I remember you as a well-behaved slave, so I propose to remove your gag. I trust you'll be sensible -- or I may have to reconsider my offer to overlook the interest on your Mistress' loan... that is, if you don't please me this evening. OK?" I nodded again (I could hardly let my Mistress down!) and she removed the gag, reminding me as she did so that I was not to speak unless spoken to.

"Well," she smiled into my eyes and ran her hands over my naked and totally vulnerable body. "It's such a pleasant change to have a new slave to play with for an evening. I decided to share the occasion with a few friends, so I want you to meet them!" A woman walked out from behind me, then another... until there were seven standing beside Mistress Anne, all smiling broadly.

She introduced each of them as "Mistress So-and-so" (I forget all the names now, but at the time she impressed on me that I must remember them, because later in the evening my memory might be 'tested'!). "And now, ladies," she finished, "shall we give our visiting slave the usual inspection?"

Laughingly all eight women gathered around me; deliberately, almost clinically, they began to stroke me, prod me, feel the size and firmness of my muscles, and so on ... and on. It was quite an experience, both intensely humiliating and very exciting, to be handled in this way by eight pairs of clever hands; during the next half hour or so not a single inch of my totally available nakedness escaped being scratched, prodded or pinched - particularly the latter, often hard and painfully! They mostly avoided my cock and balls, but each of them did fondle them briefly, one or two quite roughly, and taking care not to let me come close to a climax.

When at last they stood back, I felt something like a prize bull who had just been judged in a show; and this feeling intensified when Mistress Anne told me casually that the large room we were in was her 'dungeon' and that the mirrors set all around the walls were really one-way glass!

"Behind each of them is a cell," she smiled, "containing some of my other slaves, as well as slaves brought along by my friends here. So you have quite an audience, who can watch what goes on and can also hear us ... can't you, slave Percy?" To demonstrate, she flicked a switch and a light went on behind one of the 'mirrors', revealing a naked male slave, heavily shackled but smiling as he nodded and opened and shut his mouth - soundlessly! "We can't hear them," continued Mistress Anne as she turned off the light. "That would be too distracting, wouldn't it?"

I found it distracting enough to know that there were an unknown number of eyes watching everything that happened to my naked body. It was a totally new kind of 'public' exposure, more embarrassing than ever ... yet intensely exciting, I discovered (learning something new about my submissive nature!)

My 'tormentors' kept me constantly aware of my invisible audience during the next few hours, while they made good use of the superb bondage equipment in the dungeon. They held a sort of friendly contest, in which each of them took two turns in putting me into tight, uncomfortable and even bizarre bondage. Several of them, as they tightened straps or ropes on my helpless limbs, mentioned casually that "... my slave likes this position - don't you, slave?" Or one of the watching Mistresses would say, "Hey, that's a neat idea - remind me to try that on you tomorrow, slave So-and-so!"

Eventually Mistress Anne suggested to her friends: "Let's adjourn to a more comfortable room. We've worked pretty hard on our borrowed toy; it's about time he did some work for us!" The other Mistresses went out and she spent a moment fastening cuffs and a short chain to my ankles, handcuffs to my wrists and a tight ring around the base of my cock and balls before following them, leading me with a firm grip on my cock.

The room we entered was plushly furnished with deep armchairs for each of the guests; they were taking refreshments, waited on by a lovely young girl, gagged and shackled, whose jet-black skin contrasted vividly with her only garment - a frilly white maid's apron reaching from just below her crotch to just below her nipples, to which its top was tied with two bright red ribbons!

I was given some refreshments too ("He might need his strength!" grinned Mistress Anne) and then the serving slave was dismissed. To my amazement all eight Mistresses immediately stood up and stripped naked before reclining back in their chairs. My eyes goggled as they took in a feast of shapely female flesh of various sizes and colours; two of the Mistresses were black, one was an attractive shade of pale coffee and another was clearly of Oriental blood.

They chuckled unselfconsciously at my expression and at the effect their nudity was having on my cock, and Mistress Anne said drily, "If you think that pecker of yours will get something to do, slave, you'll be sadly disappointed. Now we're going to play a game, so listen carefully: this box has lots of paper slips in it, and we'll take turns in pulling one out at random and reading it. You are expected to obey instantly and exactly. OK, let's begin!"

She withdrew a slip, opened it and read: "Caress Mistress So-and-so's left breast reverently." I hesitated for just a moment, then understood; crossing to the side of the Mistress named, I bent and used both cuffed hands to fondle her large breast. The next command followed only a few seconds later, and soon after it the next ... and the next ... Early on I made a few mistakes in identifying the Mistress named in the order, incurring a hard whack on the bum with a paddle, but I soon learnt and made no more errors.

The variety of commands was enormous! ("I kept a couple of my slaves busy all day writing the notes," explained Mistress Anne, "and I can guarantee that we're equally represented"). They ranged from "Kneel in front of Mistress X and tell her in detail how lovely her body is" to "Kiss Mistress Y's feet," from "Ask Mistress A to pinch you hard on two sensitive spots on your body" to "Bend over for Mistress B to give you a stroke with the paddle," from "Lick Mistress P's breasts and nipples" to "Eat Mistress Q's pussy and give her a climax".

This last command obviously tended to take longer than the others, and after each of these I was allowed a short rest (which also gave Mistress "Q" time to regain her breath!). It was tiring 'work' but I was enjoying it (my submissive nature again!), despite my knees getting quite sore; most of the commands required me to kneel, and at one point Mistress Anne decided it was quicker for me to move around on my knees than to stand and kneel again (fortunately the carpet was deep and very soft!).

When I had given all but one of them a climax with my lips and tongue, they began to tease the remaining one, hinting that "maybe there's no slip with your name on it!" She played up to this, saying "Eat me!" as each slip was drawn from the box and I could see that the anticipation was adding to her excitement.

At last the awaited slip appeared, to a loud cheer. I moved towards the Mistress named (it happened to be the Oriental lady) but she stopped me. "The game ends with this command, slave," she said, "and because I've had to wait so long, I decide exactly how you'll give me pleasure. Now I want his arms ..."

With the help of the other Mistresses she soon had me arranged to her satisfaction - kneeling at the foot of her armchair with my knees spread very wide, my wrists crossed tightly behind my back and a cord leading from the padlock on my balls between my legs to my wrists, but quite loosely. I wasn't sure what its purpose was ... until she positioned herself with her thighs spread wide and her fragrant pussy a few inches from my face. Then with one hand she took a firm grip on a large handful of my hair - forcing my head back to look into her eyes - and with the other she took the end of a cord passed by someone behind me and gave it a sharp tug. My wrists were jerked upwards and the cord between my legs tightened, rubbing right on my anus and pulling quite painfully on my balls!

She smiled into my eyes. "Now slave," she said softly, "You're going to eat me just as I want it, aren't you?" and without waiting for any answer she forced my nose deep between the lips of her cunt and held it there for some seconds, saying, "Take a good deep breath, slave - I want you to remember my fragrance!" And she continued to talk softly the whole time I was eating her, giving me instructions that she couldn't convey with the hand in my hair and saying things like "Isn't that the sweetest pussy you've ever tasted, slave?"

At first she made me concentrate on her small pointed breasts and their tiny nipples, drawing my head up from her crotch but making me press my breastbone and stomach muscles firmly against her pussy. Then I had to lick all over her flat belly and use my teeth to pull gently on the curly hair of her thatch. Finally she put my tongue and lips to work on her pussy itself and her clit, gently and slowly at first but gradually increasing in pressure and speed.

When she was almost ready to come, and her soft talking had become low throaty moans, she suddenly pushed my mouth hard into her pussy and pulled so hard on the cord that I grunted with the pain from my balls. "Yes slave, scream if you want to!" she cried between moans, and pulled a little harder yet. So I did; I let out a howl, muffled by her pussy, and the vibration of my voice on her clit (plus, I think, the knowledge of the pain she was inflicting on me) took her into a moaning, writhing orgasm.

Afterwards she released her grip on my hair, and I looked up at her with respect and a little fear. "That was pretty good, slave," she smiled at me, "I'm sorry if I hurt you a bit too much ..." (she gave the cord another gentle tug, then tossed it away) "... I'm not really cruel to my slaves - truly! - but sometimes I get a big thrill out of using a slave's pain to give me pleasure!" She sat up, reached down and fondled my cock, gently and erotically, and continued, "Tell your Mistress that I'll gladly compensate in any of the normal ways - it was worth it!" And she put her other arm around my neck and kissed me, deeply and thoroughly.

A few minutes later, the Mistresses having dressed and taken more refreshments, Mistress Anne said as she tied my wrists the same way as when I arrived: "We've all enjoyed ourselves tonight. You're very good slave material; would you like to live here and be a permanent slave? I think any of us here would negotiate a very reasonable deal with your Mistress if you were interested."

Amid a chorus of "Hear, hear!" from the others, I replied, "No thank you, ma'am. Thank you for a very interesting evening - I've enjoyed it too - but I adore my Mistress and I want to stay with her."

"Pity," murmured Mistress Anne and put the big thick helmet over my head.

What with the 'harness' work in the morning, the bondage in the afternoon, and more bondage and other activities in the evening, I was exhausted! It must have been well into the wee small hours too - I remember nothing after being helped into the car ....

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I woke out of a very deep sleep into a strange dark silence. It took me a while to realise that I was still wearing the thick padded helmet from last night and that someone was removing it. When it was off and I had adjusted to the light, I found I was back in the cell I had left ... how many hours ago?

It was a different 'jailer' - a well-built woman wearing nothing but a minimal g-string - who smiled at me and said, "You were brought in so late last night (or this morning, rather!) that we left the helmet on to help you sleep after we turned up the lights ... and you did, didn't you? Here's something to eat." And she went out, locking the cell door behind her.

Still half asleep, I looked around; I saw the same cell, the same chain on my ball-lock, the same lack of other restraints ... and the same black slave in the next cell! Wondering if I'd dreamt the night's experiences, I inspected my naked body ... and found a few marks left from some extra tight ropes, as well as a distinct ache in my balls from that Oriental Mistress! I also suddenly discovered I was very hungry and attacked the bowl of food with relish.

As I ate, my 'neighbour' Suzy asked, "Where did they take you last night? What did you do? Were you with your Mistress?" I didn't really want to tell her much, but to be sociable I described the evening briefly; she seemed satisfied, but then went on, "It must have been very late when you got back. You've been sleeping for hours - it must be about 11 o'clock by now!" Then she grinned cheekily, "I've been waiting and waiting for you to wake - you were going to give me another thrill last night, remember? Want to do it now? C'mon, we mightn't get another chance!"

She is a horny little thing, I thought, but what the hell - I've nothing else to do, especially as my Mistress won't let me give myself a climax. Besides, I did enjoy playing with her yesterday; it was nice to have someone begging me for pleasure instead of 'taking' it from me. "OK," I said, and Suzy eagerly pressed her sexy body against the bars and began to murmur in pleasure as my fingers toyed with her nipples.

I had only been at it for a couple of minutes when a familiar voice said, "So this is what you get up to when I leave you here for safe keeping?"

Somewhat guiltily I jumped back and turned. Just down the corridor stood my Mistress, a sardonic smile on her lips. She walked slowly closer and stopped outside Suzy's cell. "And this," she continued, "is the little hussy who's been corrupting you, I'm told ... Come here, girl! Let's have a look at what my slave finds so attractive!"

"Yes, ma'am," said Suzy humbly and moved (awkwardly, due to the ankle-spreader she still wore) to face my Mistress through the bars. My Mistress reached in with one hand and began casually to fondle Suzy's naked body, then returned her attention to me.

"Actually," she said conversationally, "I watched your little performance last evening on the closed-circuit TV while I was getting ready to go out. So this morning I contacted the warders and asked if I could phone this horny little so-and-so's Mistress." Giving Suzy's nipple an extra tweak, she went on, "We had a pleasant chat and agreed that, although it's her business what little sexy here does ..." (another tweak!) "... my slave's business is to give pleasure to me ... and to anyone else of my choice!"

She addressed Suzy again: "I suggested to your Mistress that I might give you some appropriate punishment, and she was all in favour. Come closer, girl!" Taking a handful of Suzy's pubic hair, she pulled her right up to the bars. Warder!" she called, "Please bring the things I left with you! ... and you ..." (to Suzy) "... stick your pretty little tits through the bars ... as far as you can ... that's better!"

She rolled Suzy's large nipples between her thumb and fingers quite roughly until the warder-slave arrived, carrying a coil of rope and a thin switch. Then she told Suzy, "Don't move! ... not an inch!" moved to one side, took careful aim with the switch and brought it down sharply, just catching Suzy's jutting nipples.

With a squeal Suzy jerked back. My Mistress waited, wordlessly indicating that she wanted Suzy's tits through the bars again. Twice more she brought the switch accurately down on those nipples, eliciting a louder squeal each time. Now," she said, putting aside the switch, "I want you to move across so that your hungry little twat is nicely between two bars." Suzy obeyed and my Mistress (with the help of the warder) soon had her body tied to the bars so tightly that she could barely wriggle.

My Mistress told the warder to release me, but continued to do something I couldn't see to Suzy, saying "I'm sure the warders will be kind enough to give you a little feel as they go past. I'll be back to release you later today ... or maybe you could stay there until your Mistress fetches you -- tomorrow, isn't it? Anyway, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself! ... There ... that's nice and neat, isn't it?" By now I was out in the corridor and could see her final touch: there were two bars crossing Suzy's tits vertically just beside her nipples, and she had tied a thin cord around each nipple and the adjoining bar!

"Come along slave," she said to me. "But before we go, why don't you give your little friend something to remember you by -- like a nice sexy bite on each big red nipple? ... That's right," she encouraged as I obeyed, "... a little harder ... c'mon, harder! ..." (Suzy allowed a small moan to escape her lips) "... now the other one ... good!" and my teeth extracted another moan.

"And how about a last tickle of her horny little twat?" (my fingers drew some murmurs of pleasure from Suzy) "... and a big goodbye kiss!" she grinned. I put my lips on Suzy's and was surprised at the fervour with which she responded! And when my Mistress said, "That's enough!" Suzy gave me a great big smile - she really was enjoying herself! I glanced back as my Mistress led me away and I could see, protruding through the cell bars, Suzy's toes, face, nipples and a tuft of pubic hair!

My Mistress took me back to our room, settled down in a comfortable chair with me kneeling alongside, and said, "Well, I hope you had an interesting time last evening. I guess you were wondering for a while where you were being taken, but it gave me a small thrill to spring it on you like that. And I trust nothing happened that means I've overstepped the terms of our agreement?"

"No Mistress," I replied, "but it was a close thing. There was one Mistress who ..."

"Hold on a minute!" she interrupted. "All I wanted to know at this stage was whether you were injured, taken too far beyond your tolerance or made to do something intolerable. Were you?

"Good!" she continued after I said no. "Now I want you to tell me, in as much detail as you can remember, exactly what happened ... from the beginning."

For about an hour I entertained her ... and entertained she certainly was, judging by the sparkle in her eyes, her rapid breathing and the way her hand tightened on my cock when I described an especially interesting bit. And even if I say so myself, I enjoyed my own narrative a good deal; my constant erection was due as much to remembering the night's events as to the fondling she gave it throughout. When I reached the point where the Oriental Mistress made me scream to help her reach her climax, my prick was so close to exploding that my Mistress transferred her attention to my nipples, pinching them so tightly with her fingernails that the pain of last night seemed to pale into insignificance ... but I was loving it!

She listened seriously while I repeated that Mistress' message about 'compensation'. Looking me right in the eye, she said, "So that was the part that almost went too far? ... Let me think a minute ... OK, I think I could complain to her and have her pay me - us - some money, or almost certainly have her fondle your nice cock here and give you a climax. Now, I want you to decide ... would you like me to do that?"

I thought about it for a few moments and somehow it didn't seem so important any more. "No thank you, Mistress," I replied, "it doesn't really matter any more. Thank you for listening to my complaint and being prepared to do something about it; but I think I'd prefer you to give me that pleasure."

My Mistress smiled, giving me the courage to add, "May I humbly ask, Mistress, why you are keeping me so long from having a climax? Sometimes I could nearly burst with frustration!"

Her smile broadened and she gave my rigid organ a gentle pat as she replied. "Let's just say I'm saving it up for a special moment. And you know as well as I do that your orgasms will be all the better if we delay them as long as possible. In any case ..." (she gave the head of my cock a sharp flick with her fingernail) "... it's only just over two days since you had a climax, and normally I don't let you have more than one a week!

"By the way - I didn't mind a bit, you giving that girl in the next cell her 'bit of fun'. After all, it kept your mind - and hands! - off yourself. I just thought it might be fun to do something to her. She did look good, didn't she, all trussed up against the bars with her little pussy poking through! Must take Paul down to see her before ..." Her voice trailed off musingly.

I was relieved. I had been wondering whether she was going to do anything to me for that episode. But the mention of Master Paul reminded me of something ... "Mistress," I ventured, "may I please ask another completely different question?"

"What?" she said, obviously startled from her thoughts. "Yes, what is it?"

I grinned a little shyly. "Well, I'd love to hear what you did last night while I was at Mistress Anne's!"

Her reaction gave me quite a shock! "No!" she said sharply. "How dare you?! You're a slave, remember, and what I do in my own time is no business of yours! My only obligation to you is in our agreement, and my activities last night are completely outside that. Now are you going to apologize for being impertinent and inquisitive, or will I have to whip an apology out of you?"

"No, no, please Mistress," I stammered. "I'm sorry for being so impertinent. Please forgive me!"

Her anger subsided a little, but she continued, "And I don't want you to mention it again ... ever! Understood? ... Good! Now come along, we're meeting Master Paul and Helen in a few minutes."

I followed dazedly, hardly aware of where we were going. The twinge of jealousy I'd felt yesterday suddenly grew much greater. My Mistress was right, I knew, but I'd expected at least a hint of embarrassment if she didn't want to tell me about last night. Her anger, I said to myself, shows that she feels guilty about it ... 'it', I was certain, being a night of sex with Master Paul! And what's more, I thought (somewhat irrelevantly!), her excuses for not letting me have a climax don't hold water; after all, I'd had more erotic stimulation in the last three days than I usually get in a month!

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 6: On the Beach ... and on the Stage.

My mood improved a little when we met Master Paul and Helen in the foyer. Helen was looking as gorgeous as ever and she seemed to be enjoying herself even more than before; she held her body proudly, aware of the effect her lovely nakedness had on everyone around her, and she no longer made any attempts to cover her thrusting breasts or her blond pussy. She greeted me with one of her brilliant smiles and then, at a nod from Master Paul, she dropped a small curtsey to my Mistress with a polite "Hello Mistress Tina. My Master wants me to say how glad we are to see slave Peter back with you, and we hope you'll let him tell us what he did last night!"

"Why thank you, slave-girl!," smiled my Mistress. "It is good to have him back, and I know both your Master and you will enjoy his story. But first," she continued to Master Paul, "there's something I want to show you ..." She took his arm -- Helen and I followed obediently just behind -- and led the way down to the cells. She gave Master Paul a quick summary of my escapade with the slave-girl in the next cell; "... so I warmed up her cheeky nipples a bit," she finished as we went down the corridor between the cells, "and tied her to the bars so that anyone could give her the thrill she wants. Voilá…!"

There stood Suzy, her naked black body still held firmly to the bars. "Well," said my Mistress with a smile, "I'm glad to see you're still here. Been having fun?"

"Not much, ma'am," replied Suzy with a wry smile. "It's not very comfortable like this, and the warder has given me a tickle only a few times."

"In that case I'm sure you'll be glad of our visit," said my Mistress. "I've brought a friend to see you, and I'm sure he'd be happy to give you a small thrill ... if you ask him nicely!"

Suzy rose to the occasion beautifully; she gave Master Paul a bright smile and said, "Hello sir! Would you please give a poor little slave girl a bit of excitement by fondling my pussy? You can do what you like with it, because as you can see I can hardly even move, much less get away!"

Master Paul grinned. "How could I refuse such a polite request?" he said. But I've an even better idea ..." -- he beckoned to Helen and me -- "... these two can nibble on your nipples while I tickle your twat!"

Some minutes later Suzy was limp in her bonds, having been brought to two climaxes by Master Paul's clever fingers on her clit, assisted by Helen's and my mouths on her nipples, still tied to the cell bars. My Mistress simply watched the show (and fondled my cock and balls and Helen's tits and crotch once or twice); at the end she remarked with a grin, "Well my girl, now you shouldn't complain about lack of attention -- you enjoyed that, didn't you?" Suzy could only smile and nod weakly as my Mistress gave her pussy a parting squeeze.

From there we made our way down to the beach, because my Mistress and Master Paul wanted to go swimming. On the way Master Paul stopped at a kiosk while my Mistress led us on to the beach. A few minutes later Master Paul joined us, carrying a small bag and an ice-box well stocked with drinks and a picnic lunch.

I wondered what was in the bag, but I didn't have to wait long to find out! Master Paul produced from it a length of thin cable, obviously very strong; with a broad grin he padlocked its ends to my cock-ring and to Helen's collar, saying "I'm sure you two won't mind being kept together while we're down here! And now ... what shall we do with this?"

'This' was a small cylindrical object whose purpose was by no means obvious. I wasn't quite game to ask, but Helen said, "What's it for, Master?"

"It saves us the bother of keeping an eye on you all the time," he smiled. "It's a homing beacon ... see?" he continued and produced another (larger) object; he pointed this at the smaller cylinder and pressed a button ... and it emitted a loud buzz, which faded as he pointed it away from the cylinder!

"I guess we can just hang it on the cable between you two," he said, but my Mistress broke in with "I've a better idea! Come here, slave-boy, and bend over!" In a few moments I was 'wearing' the homing beacon deep inside my rectum, and a very tight belt and crotch-strap to keep it there!

"Let's go swimming!" said my Mistress and took off her skirt and blouse, revealing a black one-piece swimsuit, quite 'modest' in cut but stunningly simple in style. The contrast between her dark slim elegance and Helen's voluptuous blond nakedness, was striking ... and very erotic, as my cock proceeded to confirm by standing out like a flagpole! And I couldn't help but notice that the front of Master Paul's brief swimsuit was bulging noticeably too! ... but maybe (since I'd never seen him naked) he was just very well hung!

We went down to the water and swam for a while; my Mistress and Master Paul stayed close to Helen and me at first, enjoying the minor difficulties we had with the cable -- it really didn't bother us too much, although we had to be careful not to 'snare' other swimmers with it! For my part, the thing in my rectum and the tight crotch-strap were occupying far more of my attention!

When we had our picnic lunch a little later, I had to provide 'entertainment' by relating my experiences of the previous night. I didn't go into all the details, but it was clear (from Helen's sparkling eyes and Master Paul's intent expression) that I did entertain them! But I also noticed my Mistress and Master Paul exchanging one or two 'significant' glances, and I couldn't help wondering -- again! -- what they'd been doing last night.

Soon after lunch I thought I was going to have the opportunity to find out; my Mistress and Master Paul decided to leave Helen and me to ourselves while they paddled a small boat out into the bay. We swam a little, then went walking along the beach until we reached some rocks; and amongst these we found some lovely small pools of warm water surrounded by their own tiny patches of sand.

Sitting in the sun, seemingly in our own little world, I felt brave enough to ask Helen if she had been with my Mistress last night. She said that she had been, and was only too willing to tell me of her own experiences, but refused to tell me anything about my Mistress, saying "She was very firm on that point! She said that if anyone was to tell you, it had to be her."

My jealousy began to assert itself again. "It's just not fair!" I cried, "I'll bet she was having it off with your Master Paul! And she won't even let me have a single orgasm, not even using my hand ... I've a good mind to bring myself off now, we're well out of their sight."

Helen tried to cheer me up, but I was too angry. But suddenly she said, "Mistress Tina doesn't want you to bring yourself off, but maybe she wouldn't mind if I did it for you -- just like you did for that girl in the cells!" I wasn't sure (I had a feeling my Mistress, for some reason, really didn't want me to come) but I kept this to myself and allowed Helen to start fondling my cock.

It was great! ... to have my rigid prick stroked gently and sensuously, and just to know that this time it would end in a climax! I lay back and let myself enjoy the touch of Helen's clever fingers, and she steadily built up my arousal ... and not without getting excited herself! Suddenly she said, "I can't resist this! I don't care if Master Paul will be angry with me!" and straddled my naked body with her lovely thighs!

I made no attempt to stop her as she guided my rock-hard organ into her tight moist cunt and began to move up and down in the time-honoured way. Soon I wouldn't have been able to stop her even if I'd wanted to, so great were the waves of pleasure that were sweeping me towards my first climax in days. All the pent-up stimulation I'd been getting seemed to be concentrated in my cock, and before very long it all burst out as I bucked my hips and came deep inside my beautiful fellow-slave.

"Feel better now?" asked Helen a few minutes later as I tried to get my breath back. I smiled and nodded, and she continued, "I think we should go back to the beach soon -- our Master and Mistress might be back from their little 'cruise'. Also, I think we should tell them that we've screwed -- I'm sure they won't really be angry with us."

"No, please!" I protested, "Let's keep it a secret, just between us. If Mistress Tina can keep a secret from me, I can do the same to her. When she tells me what she did last night, I'll tell her about this. Promise me you won't tell her, please?" I pleaded.

Helen hesitated, but eventually agreed. And when we returned to the beach and met our 'owners', she kept our secret with a perfectly straight face and I'm sure they didn't suspect a thing!

We swam and sunbathed for a while longer, but it was still only mid-afternoon when my Mistress and Master Paul said it was time to go back to the hotel "to use the booking we made for the bondage room"! Soon Helen and I found our naked bodies being tied, stretched and contorted in various ways as our owners experimented with the versatile equipment.

Like the previous afternoon, my Mistress and Master Paul frequently went into their huddle with intent whispers and note-making. But now they seemed to be more deliberate, as if working to a plan and refining a relatively small set of bondage positions to put us into. And the last position -- and the one they spent the most time on -- was the one that yesterday I'd thought was going to lead to my eager cock entering Helen's moist pussy!

And this time, after some experimentation, they solved yesterday's difficulty! By using a bolster to raise my knees and hips well off the floor, they found that Master Paul could easily angle Helen's body so that her pussy could reach my cock. With my back arched as it was and my head on the floor, I could only see the action in a mirror and not very well at that ... but I certainly felt it when the tip of my cock actually touched the soft lips of Helen's cunt! But then he lifted her away and went into the huddle with my Mistress again.

For a moment I'd been almost sorry that Helen and I had screwed, just when (it seemed) our owners were about to make us do it anyway. Now my frustration and jealousy returned and were intensified by the fact that my Mistress was obviously playing a game with me and deliberately not allowing me either to come by myself or to fuck Helen. I concluded that she wanted to see how long I could last, with all the erotic stimulation, before actually begging her to let me come ... and then she would haggle over the penalty this was worth!

I resolved not to give her the satisfaction. Now I was glad Helen and I had screwed without my Mistress' knowledge and I decided not to tell her about it until she allowed (no -- ordered!) Helen and me to have sex. My thoughts continued along these lines as Helen and I were released and led out, somewhat stiff from all the tight bondage. We parted in the foyer, Master Paul taking Helen back to their chalet while my Mistress and I went back to our room, after arranging to meet later for dinner.

My Mistress made me take a long hot shower, which really made me feel much better; I had to admit that all in all I was still enjoying this holiday and I decided to save any complaints I had for my Mistress until we got back to the cruise ship -- meanwhile I'd try to co-operate as well as I could. I emerged from the shower all ready to help my Mistress bathe and dress, but she suddenly remembered that we'd left Suzy, the girl in the cells, tied to her cell bars.

"I know," she said after a moment's thought, "I'll bathe and dress myself while you go and release her ... but make sure you first give the cheeky little wench's twat a good tickle, and pinch her nipples hard from me! I'll phone the warders to tell them you're coming."

Suzy was quite pleased to see me when I told her I was there to let her go, but less so when I outlined my Mistress' orders. Apparently she'd been quite thoroughly fondled and had had orgasm after orgasm wrung from her helpless body. Tired as she was, she still responded to the touch of my fingers -- although it took some time before she climaxed. I untied the cords and gave her a parting kiss and a pinch on each tender nipple ("from my Mistress," I told her). She gave me a tired smile and immediately went and lay down on her pallet.

My Mistress was waiting, bathed and dressed, when I returned; she accepted my explanation for the delay, but seemed a little preoccupied. I wondered why, but only briefly because soon there was a phone call from Master Paul in the foyer, asking if my Mistress was ready to go to dinner. Helen wasn't in the foyer with Master Paul; she was waiting out in the taxi he'd hired ... or rather on it, shackled on an open platform at the rear (a bit like the luggage on cars on the Twenties!). I was made to join her and we spent a short but quite eventful journey being ogled and fondled by passers-by whenever we stopped or slowed down ... which was often!

The first few moments we were left in peace, Helen said, "Peter, I'm feeling more and more guilty about this afternoon. Not because of what we did!" she went on hurriedly. "That was great and it felt so good! -- but because we didn't tell Master Paul and Mistress Tina about it straight away. I really do want to tell Master Paul -- won't you please change your mind so we can both tell them together?"

I stared at her. "But this afternoon you agreed not to say anything until ..." I protested, but stopped, suddenly realising that my intentions had also changed since then.

"I know," she said, "but I've been thinking about it a lot since then. And I won't just tell Master Paul without trying to persuade you to own up with me, because I'm sure he'd tell your Mistress and that might mean big trouble for you ... and I don't want that!"

She blurted the last bit quickly, because just then we arrived at our destination and our conversation had to stop. Her last words stuck in my mind, but I couldn't give them much attention for a while because we both had to concentrate hard on the unique 'arrangements' at this restaurant.

My Mistress and Master Paul were welcomed by the host and invited to follow him to their table, but Helen and I were immediately taken aside into a small bare room by a uniformed man and woman who displayed the assurance of people used to commanding slaves. "Listen very carefully," said the man, "because we don't have time to repeat anything!

"In this restaurant the table service is provided by you! You will wait at your owners' table only and since this is your first time you won't be expected to be perfect in every detail. But there are a few things we insist on -- that your serving must be as discreet and as unobtrusive as possible, which means you won't utter a sound while you're in the dining room. Our customers want peace and quiet to enjoy a good meal and they want it served without fuss by slaves who know their place ... as just part of the furniture! In fact, most likely they won't speak to you at all and hardly even look at you."

The woman continued: "In a moment we'll take you into a room where you'll wait with the other serving slaves for a summons from your owners. They're at table 4: remember that, because someone will simply announce that table 4 is asking for service, and you'll be expected to respond immediately.

"When summoned you'll go directly and quietly to your table with the menu or food or wine which we will give you. It'll normally be obvious what is expected of you and when you've done it you'll immediately return ... unless a small red light (meaning 'wait') is on above the table. And one last thing: you can expect that your naked bodies will be extensively fondled by your owners; I warn you not to resist this, otherwise we have their permission to parade you to all tables to be fondled by any customers who care to! Right, let's go ... and keep your elbows up, chests out and stomachs in!"

While they were talking, they fitted us with wrist cuffs joined by short chains and collars, to the back of which the wrist chains were clipped, so that we had to hold our elbows above our heads. We were led into a room where stood a number of naked slaves, most of them shackled just as we were, and a few other people dressed in uniforms like those of our 'supervisors'.

We waited for a short while, then suddenly a voice called: "Service at table four!" Helen and I looked at each other, grinned wryly, and headed for the door. But before we reached it, our 'supervisors' stopped us and gave us the menu and wine list to take to the table; one was hung from Helen's nipple by a strong clamp, the other from my cock by a cord looped tight around its base! Then we were gently but firmly pushed through the swing door into the dining room.

It was not a large room, containing only six tables, but it was richly furnished with deep carpet and brocade drapery. The tables were well spaced, and the subdued murmur of voices in conversation was almost lost in a wash of soft background music. We had no trouble locating table 4 and as we walked almost noiselessly towards my Mistress and Master Paul I noticed that some portions of the walls were mirrored, giving everyone (including ourselves) a variety of views of our naked bodies.

We stopped at table 4, Helen standing beside Master Paul and I beside my Mistress. They barely glanced at us as they detached the menu and wine list from our naked bodies, then continued their quiet conversation as they opened them. There was no red light above the table, so Helen and I glanced at each other, agreed wordlessly, and made our way back to the other room.

As soon as we came through the door, our 'supervisors' approached us with "Did your owners touch you?" and, when we said "No, they just took the menus," they continued "OK, just wait for the next summons."

It came almost immediately and Helen and I returned to table 4. This time the red light was on, so we waited patiently for a minute or so until my Mistress and Master Paul casually reached out and gave me and Helen respectively a quick but intimate caress. Then the light suddenly went out; somewhat mystified, Helen and I returned to the other room and, in answer to the same question as before, told our 'supervisors' that "Yes, they did fondle us for just a moment." But they weren't satisfied; they wanted to know exactly how and where our owners had touched us. We both hesitated, but they insisted and at last we told them, our faces flushed with embarrassment. They listened carefully and replied quite calmly, "OK, come with us."

They led us to a bar at one side of the room, where they ordered two cocktails and, while waiting for them to be mixed, they unclipped our wrist chains from our collars. Helen and I stared at each other in slowly dawning comprehension -- the caresses were the way the diners placed their orders!

And so it turned out! Along with the other serving slaves, Helen and I made repeated trips into the dining room, either carrying food or drinks or else with our empty hands held well out of the way of our owners' caressing hands. We were (as had been predicted) very thoroughly fondled, especially when the orders for the main course were placed; and when they ordered a bottle of wine, our supervisors told us that at any time a sharp pinch on our left nipple would mean that we were to pour a little more wine into their glasses.

As the evening wore on, I began to enjoy it more and more; and so did Helen -- she quite cheerfully admitted it, and her bright eyes and rapid breathing confirmed this. Although the diners generally did ignore us slaves moving past their tables, I noticed the men had real difficulty in keeping their eyes off Helen's lovely shapely nakedness!

The sheer incongruity of the restrained luxury and quiet formality of the dining room, contrasted with us slaves moving about, our stark naked bodies on public view and being openly handled in the most intimate places and ways, was both humiliating and strangely erotic. And most humiliating of all -- having to describe, in minutest detail and in a loud clear voice, all these caresses! ... but even this started to be exciting, an excitement fuelled by hearing the other slaves tell of the caresses they were given!

We slaves did have some time to ourselves too -- when the diners were busy with their main courses, we were even allowed to eat ... although we weren't given a choice of food and had to eat standing up out of bowls on benches without the use of our hands! Nevertheless the food was good and satisfying.

There was also time to talk, and Helen used it to continue trying to persuade me to confess our 'escapade'. At first I was adamant, but she was very persuasive (who could resist such a gorgeous and cheerful girl?) and by the end of dinner she'd got me to agree, except that I wanted to wait until tomorrow morning; "Maybe," I said, "my Mistress will tell me before we go to bed tonight what she and Master Paul did last night." Helen looked a bit dubious at this, but she agreed to it.

Our conversation was of course broken by the demands of our owners. A few times only one of was called out, usually just to pour more wine; and on one of these occasions I was clumsy enough to spill some on the white tablecloth! Just in time I remembered to choke off the apology that came to my lips, but Master Paul and my Mistress didn't seem to notice ... until Master Paul reached across, gripped my balls and squeezed, just hard enough to make me gasp. When I told our lady supervisor, she asked sharply, "What happened just before?"; I admitted spilling the wine and immediately she clipped my wrist chain to my collar, took a short whip from a rack and ordered me to follow her into the dining room.

At table 4 she murmured quietly to Master Paul, "Our apologies for the slave's clumsiness, sir. Normally he would be severely punished, but as you know he is very new, so may I suggest just a single stroke with this whip?" Master Paul looked across at my Mistress, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and replied, "Yes, that'll be fine. Now let's see ... across the belly, I think." The supervisor handed him the whip and, moving behind me, positioned me with my naked body arched forward slightly.

Hardly seeming to take aim, Master Paul flicked the whip casually across my belly ... but it stung furiously, and the crack echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room! Other diners looked up curiously, and the embarrassment of being treated in this way in these surroundings seemed to make the weal hurt more. And once again the strange contrasts of this place had their erotic effect on me, and my cock got harder than ever!

Master Paul handed the whip back and said, "One more thing though -- I don't think we'll want this slave to do any more serving. We'll just use him for our orders, so you may as well fasten his clumsy hands right out of the way." So for the rest of the meal my arms were tightly laced into a single-sleeve behind my back, and on the few summons remaining I had to remember (and describe!) the caresses of both my Mistress and Master Paul ... and they seemed to take delight without showing it, of course!) in doing it more roughly than really necessary. Helen did all the serving ... and she did it very very carefully!

Eventually my Mistress and Master Paul finished their dinner. Helen's and my 'supervisors' took us to the front door to meet them -- after giving us a long series of very intimate caresses, which they said was used by regular customers to tell the serving slaves "Thank you and you've done very well!" As a result we were both flushed and breathing hard (almost as hard as my cock was!) when we followed my Mistress and Master Paul on a short walk just around the corner to the 'theatre' where the other evening we had watched the bondage demonstrations.

Tonight, of course, there was a competition and we all settled down to watch, along with a good number of other spectators. The five entrants (ranging from a team of six to just a Mistress and her male slave) first had to perform a set of prescribed bondage scenarios and later were allowed to show their imagination in a 'free-expression' segment. They had to keep to a strict time limit and were assessed by two judges on a number of criteria including speed, variety, tightness and security of the knots. (One team was even disqualified because the judges felt that in one position the victim could have escaped ... although how was a mystery to us!)

It was all fascinating and rather exciting, and my Mistress and Master Paul again picked up some new ideas that they promised to try out on Helen and me sometime. Finally the winning team was announced and enthusiastically applauded by the audience; the Masters and Mistresses in the audience, by the way, didn't clap their hands, but instead slapped loudly on the naked bodies of their slaves! So Helen's and my backs and bum-cheeks were quite red and smarting by the time the compere made his final speech.

"Thank you for your attention and enthusiasm, Masters and Mistresses," he said. "This brings us to the end of the main part of the evening's entertainment. However, for anyone who would like to stay a little longer, we like to invite (shall we say?) 'amateurs', as distinct from the 'professionals' we've been watching, to try their hand at the same sort of thing. And I'm pleased to say that tonight our invitation has been accepted by two teams: the first, some visitors, Master Paul and Mistress Tina and their slaves Helen and Peter, and the second ..."

I didn't hear any more; Helen and I were staring at each other in utter surprise, and then we both turned and looked accusingly at my Mistress and Master Paul ... to be greeted with mischievous grins and an unabashed "This'll be fun, won't it?"

"... a short break to give our contestants time to get ready," finished the compere. The audience stood up to stretch their legs and get some refreshments, and my Mistress and Master Paul led Helen and me to a room backstage. There we were met by the compere, who checked with Master Paul and my Mistress that all the gear they wanted was to hand and with Helen and me that we were willing to go naked on stage and submit to the public bondage.

Helen agreed readily, although she was blushing deeply as she did so; I hesitated for a moment (causing my Mistress a little concern, I noticed) but then agreed too; I decided that, if Helen and I were to 'confess' our love-making tomorrow morning, it would be best if my Mistress had nothing else to hold against me.

My Mistress and Master Paul each went out briefly and returned wearing skin-tight leotards, my Mistress in deep red and Master Paul in black. I wondered why they had to change in privacy -- after all, Helen and I had seen each of them naked before, and I was convinced they hadn't remained dressed whatever they'd done last night! But I had little time to think about this, because just then the compere appeared on stage and announced the second part of the programme ... and we were on first!

Our owners led Helen and me out on stage, to a smattering of applause. I'm sure we looked quite good, with their dark leotards in dramatic contrast to our lightly tanned nakedness. The compere announced the first 'event' -- in which Helen and I were to be put into a number of 'classic' bondage positions -- and the show was under way!

It took only a moment to realise that the bondage that my Mistress and Master Paul were putting us into was exactly what they'd been 'practising' on us in the bondagae rooms at the hotel the last two days! "So that," I thought as my naked body was quickly but carefully positioned in various ways and my wrists and ankles (and other parts!) securely fastened, "is what all the whispering and consulting the notebook was all about!" Helen, I'm certain, had made the same connection, because more than once her eyes smiled at me in a "Remember this?" sort of way as we were bound together.

The time allowed for this first segment expired and the audience applauded generously ... mostly, I was certain, for Helen's blond naked loveliness and her cheerful acceptance of the bondage imposed on her in such a public way. Each new position seemed to increase her excitement, and she was breathing quickly and her eyes were shining as my Mistress and Master Paul took a bow.

A quick announcement from the compere took us straight into the second segment of the contest -- the 'free expression' part ... and suddenly I understood what was exciting Helen so much! The bondage we were put into was still the same as my Mistress and Master Paul had tried out on us, but now it was the more unusual positions, more intimate, more exciting ... and I remembered that the last one they'd tried was the one where Master Paul lowered Helen's body carefully, aiming her wide-open pussy towards ...!

My cock -- which had hardly been limp before -- now stood up rock-hard! It was a strange feeling, to be on a stage under the bright lights, stark naked and helplessly bound, and to be conscious of many eyes watching my excitement grow and my prick seem to get bigger and bigger! But I didn't care and I even began to enjoy it; "She's been planning this all along!" I said to myself. "This is what she's been saving me for!"

I even began to regret that Helen and I had, in a way, sabotaged the plan; but, when they started to put us into that final bondage, I was sure that I would 'perform' up to my Mistress' expectations and that it would be no less pleasant for me! Our knees were spread, our ankles were tied to our thighs, our elbows were pulled severely behind our backs, our wrists were drawn tightly towards our ankles and our tautly arched naked bodies were displayed to the audience. I knew, from what I'd seen in the bondage room mirrors, exactly what they were seeing and was aware that I ought to feel ashamed -- but I didn't, not one bit! All I could think was: "In a minute my cock will be deep inside Helen! ... and in front of all these people!"

My Mistress' and Master Paul's experiments and practice proved successful --when my hips were raised on a bolster and Master Paul slowly lowered Helen, her moist warm pussy slid smoothly down onto my rigid organ. It felt wonderful! ... but at that very moment the gong signalled the end of our time!

I could have howled with frustration as Master Paul lifted Helen up again and he and my Mistress turned her and me to face the audience again. This time the applause was definitely enthusiastic and it increased when my Mistress reached down and squeezed my cock to ease my obvious over-arousal -- I realised they'd really enjoyed the way it had put my excitement on view. But I wished that my Mistress and Master Paul had only been just a little quicker...!

The judges made their comments immediately. Helen and I stayed bound as we were, my Mistress and Master Paul standing behind us and supporting our arched kneeling bodies as they listened. Allowing for their inexperience, they scored very well in tightness of bondage but not so well in some other areas. In particular, one of the judges criticized the poor timing of the last 'tableau'.

"You could have been a good deal quicker with the earlier positions," she said, "without losing points for tightness. It was quite a novel idea, and our audiences always love a good on-stage slave mating. As it was, it turned into rather an anti-climax ... pun intended!" She smiled and waited for the laughter to subside, then spoke directly to my Mistress, "... which was a pity, because your slave was so obviously ready ... and willing. In the fun spirit of this amateur contest, I doubt if we'd have deducted any points for running overtime if you'd let him finish."

"Thank you," replied my Mistress, "but we did plan it exactly as you saw. We feel our slaves are not quite ready to come in public yet. And thank you for your other comments and for the score you've awarded us ... we really didn't expect to do so well!"

I wanted to shout, "I am ready!" -- but at that precise moment my Mistress caught my eye and almost as if I were reading her mind I remembered something: when we were working out our Mistress/slave agreement (it seemed like ages ago) she'd undertaken never to make me come in front of anyone else, unless I agreed to it beforehand! So she had in fact kept strictly to the agreement and I really had no valid complaint ...

These thoughts occupied my mind while we moved offstage and Helen and I were partly untied -- our arms were kept firmly but not uncomfortably tied behind our backs. And I was too preoccupied really to watch closely as the other 'team' went through their paces. They were two men, one black and one white, and they exchanged the Master/slave roles between the two segments of their act. Part of my mind was vaguely conscious that their show was a lot more skilful and practised than ours, almost as good as the teams we'd seen before; but another part was still wrestling with what had (not!) happened earlier ... and I came to the conclusion that my Mistress could have told me what she was thinking of and got my OK first, instead of making such a big surprise of it all!

My anger and jealousy and rebellion returned in force. I hardly heard the judges' comments on the other team's effort, which they rated a good deal better than ours, or my Mistress and Master Paul freely admitting that the decision was fair. But I resolved that, since my Mistress had again proved that she wouldn't break our pact, I would keep to it too ... until we got back to the cruise ship, and then I'd have it out with her. "As for Helen and me screwing," I told myself, "our agreement doesn't include that either (maybe we just assumed it could never happen!), so I'm not going to confess it until I'm good and ready!"

I was very quiet, perhaps even a little sullen, on the way back to the hotel. Helen sensed something, I'm sure, because she looked at me several times with real concern; but I decided I'd wait until morning to tell her my 'final' decision -- maybe my Mistress would still have a chat with me before bed.

But no; when we got back to our room she simply said, "It's very late, isn't it? I need my sleep, and after all the excitement today I think you do too ... so let's make sure you don't keep yourself awake!" And she shackled me on my pallet in such a way that I couldn't even play with my poor frustrated cock or anything!

As a result, I was soon asleep and I slept like a log!

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 7: Public Punishment ... and Private Pleasure.

In fact, I slept so well that I woke with my Mistress shaking my shoulder, smiling down at me and saying, "Wake up, sleepy head! You were sleeping so soundly I decided not to disturb you while I showered and dressed. I've even ordered breakfast to be sent up -- it'll be here soon, so you better go shower."

When I emerged after a shower, I found that breakfast had indeed arrived --brought by a handsome tanned male slave, who was naked except for wrist cuffs joined by chains to rings pierced through his nipples, ankle shackles joined by another chain to a ring through the tip of his cock (!) and a very large ball-gag in his mouth. My Mistress made him stay and serve her breakfast, fascinated by the way the rings pulled at his nipples with each movement of his hands and toying casually with his cock and its ring as he knelt beside her. I had to help myself to breakfast but only when my Mistress had had enough of each dish.

The night's sleep hadn't changed my resolve to be a very obedient slave for the rest of our stay on the island, so I followed my Mistress humbly when we left the hotel. For a change she fitted a short chain between cuffs on my wrists, then looped it around the base of my cock and fastened it with the clip of the leash she held; this kept my hands each side of my cock and almost between my legs, which made walking a bit awkward and must have looked funny.

It was already mid-morning as we walked through the streets. My Mistress stopped briefly once or twice to look in shop windows, but it was clear she had a definite destination in mind. I simply followed without much thought, except to wonder when (or whether) we'd be seeing Master Paul and Helen again. Suddenly my Mistress said, "Here we are!" as we rounded a corner ... and there they were!

"Sorry we're a bit late," apologized my Mistress after "Hello"s all round. "I let my slave sleep in a bit ... and then there was this lovely slave who served my breakfast! ..." While she told Master Paul all about it, I looked at Helen; her blond nakedness was as lovely as ever, and today she too had her hands shackled in an unusual way -- a short rod between wrist cuffs was attached to her nipples with spring clamps, forcing her to hold her hands up beside her lovely tits to avoid putting the weight of her hands and forearms on her nipples. And the leash Master Paul held was clipped to the centre of the bar, so I was certain she'd followed him here very obediently!

Our owners locked our leashes to the 'hitching rail' and went into the shop, which I recognized as the one where Helen and I had been taken inside the other day and measured. I wondered briefly why we were here again, but Helen broke into my thoughts as soon as we were alone.

"Well ... did your Mistress have a serious chat with you last night?" she asked eagerly. I told her no, so she continued, "When will we tell them about yesterday afternoon, then?"

"No," I replied, "I'm not going to tell my Mistress ... not after the way she got us so close to doing it last night and then we had to stop just as we were getting started!"

Helen looked so disappointed at this that I felt awful - I really hated upsetting her - but I was determined to stick to my decision this time. I opened my mouth to try to explain this to her, but just then my Mistress and Master Paul came out of the shop again.

A few minutes later we were inside but, like the other day, blindfolded so that we could see nothing. (Helen and I checked with each other later and found that the same had happened to us both.) Our arms were fastened above our heads, allowing complete access to our naked bodies ... for a 'fitting', obviously!

It took some time for the adjustments to be made, but finally the blindfold was suddenly removed and in a mirror I saw myself wearing a harness made of black straps. It consisted of a collar, a strap running vertically from it back and front and under my crotch, and two horizontal straps around my waist and chest. The straps were able to stretch, which meant that they maintained a snug fit even when I bent or twisted.

Beside me in the mirror I could see Helen, her lovely figure encased in a 'corset' of heavy red leather which accentuated its curves dramatically. It reached from just above her pussy to just below her nipples, and in between it drew her already slim waist in to an almost incredible narrowness! The effect was enough to cause my cock to come to attention ... just as the shop assistant took a grip on it!

She simply wanted to demonstrate to my Mistress an attachment -- a sheath for my cock and balls which could be fastened in any of a variety of ways, from up against my belly to down and back between my legs. To everyone's amusement, my cock reacted to her handling (and the sight of Helen!) by getting so hard she could barely control it!

There were other attachments too. For Helen there was a heavy crotch-strap which could be drawn to any desired tightness ... as the assistant demonstrated to Master Paul, drawing gasps from Helen as it went deep between the lips of her pussy. It could also be fitted with its front strap separated, which had the effect of making the mound of her pussy seem even bigger; Master Paul liked that, and chose to leave it that way for a while.

There were loops at the top of Helen's corset for attaching to her nipples, and similar fittings on the strap that went around my chest. The assistants also showed our owners the D-rings placed strategically for fastening our wrists and arms in many ways, and the fittings for holding a dildo or vibrator in Helen's cunt ... or in both our rectums!

Finally our owners were satisfied. "Don't you love your new uniforms?" they asked us and told us to "... thank these nice people for doing such a good job!" We did so, and they completed the purchase by paying quite a large sum of money, I suspect. Before we left the shop, however, my Mistress reminded me that a few days ago I'd asked why slaves weren't allowed in shops.

"Now you're in one," she grinned, "and I feel like buying you an extra gift of your choice. Look around ... remember what I said about what sort of things a slave might choose ... but not too expensive, please!" I admit it took me some time to make a choice -- there was so much, and I did want to find something a bit unusual -- but at last I asked her to buy a pair of heavy wire cones designed to fit over my nipples, with strong spring clamps to grip them and a screw adjustment to exert the desired pull on them.

Meanwhile Master Paul had told Helen to choose something too; she chose what was called a 'pussy-whip' made of dozens of heavy silk threads, very soft to touch but guaranteed by the assistants to "... sting fiercely when properly applied to the tenderer parts of your slave's body!" Our choices pleased our owners ... and naturally my Mistress had to put mine to immediate use! So when we left the shop, both Helen and I had our wrist cuffs fastened to bars joined to spring clamps holding our nipples in their firm grip.

We spent what was left of the morning exploring a few places we hadn't seen before. Several times my Mistress and Master Paul left Helen and me alone for a while, and Helen always used these opportunities to try again to persuade me to join her in 'owning up' to our love-making yesterday. But I resisted her pleas and eventually she gave up, conceding that although she couldn't agree with my reasons she could understand how I felt. "I only hope," she said at last, "that when I tell my Master, I can persuade him not to tell Mistress Tina, because that's between you and her."

For lunch we returned to our hotel, and my Mistress and Master Paul decided that Helen and I had worn our new 'uniforms' long enough for the first time. They relaxed on easy-chairs in a pleasant leafy patio and made Helen and me kneel beside them and serve the light lunch of fruit and cheese by actually placing the food in their mouths. Between mouthfuls we also amused them by rubbing each other's nipples (still very tender from the just-removed clamps!); they greatly enjoyed watching the expressions of discomfort on our faces!

The 'main event' that afternoon was the weekly public parade and punishment of slaves who had incurred the wrath of their owners. My Mistress and Master Paul had obtained seats very near the front of the small but well-filled spectator stand, so that they (and Helen and I kneeling beside them) had a first-class view of the proceedings.

Each 'case' was announced and the 'accused' slave was brought forward by his or her owner, who described the offence in some detail to a 'tribunal' of several people including two Slave Squad officers. The slave was asked if the accusation was true, and I was interested to see that all but one freely admitted their guilt; and that one, after some 'evidence' was given by a couple of other slaves and an owner, pleaded guilty to a lesser offence.

The offending slaves also accepted with little complaint the punishments that the owners nominated - although some of them made a good deal of noise while the punishment was actually being applied! And some of the punishments were really quite severe; this was obviously the place for those slaves who enjoyed real pain or who were willing to submit to it to please their owners.

One of these, of course, was Suzy - my 'neighbour' in the cells two nights ago. After the formalities of her 'confession', she was stretched in a taut spreadeagle and given ten lashes of a large whip wielded by a strong male slave. Her Mistress, who'd given a convincing display of outrage and anger in accusing her, watched intently as Suzy howled under the blows of the whip ... but her face clearly betrayed more than a trace of emotion when Suzy had a climax as her punishment neared its end.

As she was led away afterwards by her Mistress, Suzy caught sight of us and persuaded her Mistress to stop and talk to us. While my Mistress and Master Paul talked with her Mistress, Suzy proudly displayed her striped back to Helen and me. Her Mistress even invited my Mistress and Master Paul to run their fingers along the raised weals left by the whip, which brought some gasps of pain from Suzy.

"It's not so funny right now, is it?" sympathised her Mistress. "But she doesn't learn!" she continued to Master Paul with a wry grin. "She'll probably be back here in a few weeks, getting another thrashing for some new wickedness. Sometimes I wonder why I keep her ... you wouldn't like to buy her, would you?"

Master Paul laughingly declined the offer and Suzy's Mistress looked at her slave with a deep sigh. "Oh well," she said, "I guess I'm stuck with you, so maybe we should go home and do something about your weals ... and then, my girl, you have a few days of chores to catch up on, especially one for that tongue of yours!"

"I have a feeling that's one chore she'll enjoy doing!" observed Master Paul as Suzy obediently followed at the end on her Mistress' leash. And my Mistress agreed with a smile.

Only one punishment 'case' followed Suzy's, and then the tribunal chairman made an announcement: "These public punishments are open not only to resident Masters and Mistresses, but also to any visiting slave-owners who feel that their slaves deserve such a penalty. Naturally, since visiting slaves can't be expected to be familiar with our customs and rules, their punishment would depend on their willingness to submit to it.

"Now - is there any visiting Master or Mistress who wishes to make a public accusation against his or her slave?"

Instantly, to my utter horror, Master Paul and my Mistress stood up and, on being invited to state their 'case', Master Paul said clearly, "We claim that our two slaves ..." (he indicated Helen and me) "... had sex with each other without our permission"! I was totally stunned; how did they know, if Helen hadn't told them yet? And if she had, why had she been trying to persuade me to 'confess' with her?

Before I could begin to sort out my confused thoughts, the announcer replied "That's a very serious offence, Sir and Madam. Would you please come up to the platform to answer some questions? Your slaves will be looked after by our assistant slaves."

Master Paul and my Mistress made their way forward and two slaves gently but firmly escorted Helen and me to the platform too. I stared at Helen, my mind still in turmoil. She must have seen the hurt and confusion in my eyes, because she whispered urgently, "I'm sorry, Peter, but I can't explain now ... later, I promise!"

We stood on the opposite side of the platform facing Master Paul and my Mistress while they were questioned about the time of our 'crime', whether it had happened in a public place (this was very important to the tribunal) and whether there were any witnesses. To this last question they replied, "No, but the girl has confessed."

By the time the tribunal turned to Helen and me, I'd come to a conclusion: the whole thing, from my being deprived of sexual gratification to Helen's 'seducing' me and making me believe Master Paul and my Mistress didn't know, had all been arranged to 'set me up'! However, I could also see that this wasn't really outside my pact with my Mistress, so I decided to persist with my plan --to submit and obey as far as I possibly could, and then to 'have it out' with my Mistress after leaving the island.

So, after Helen had confirmed her confession and the truth of all Master Paul's and my Mistress' statements, when I was asked the same questions, I replied defiantly: "Yes, all that the Master and Mistress have said is true --Helen and I did make love on the beach yesterday. I have no excuses, but I won't apologise either!"

"Very well," said the chairman. "You slaves are both liable for public punishment. Normally, the penalty for an offence as serious as this is very severe and you wouldn't even be allowed the chance to opt out of slavery before it is applied.

"However, since you're visitors, we'll ask your owners to select your punishment from a range prescribed for this offence. It would be best, if you trust them enough, to accept the punishment they choose; but if you insist on it, you may object to their choice on the ground that it's beyond your tolerance. Which is it to be?"

Put like that, and after my little show of bravado, I didn't have much choice! I said I'd accept whatever punishment was chosen and, after some hesitation, Helen did so too. Strangely enough, while part of me hoped I'd be able to bear the punishment, another part hoped for something worse so that my Mistress would be seen as overly cruel and vindictive.

I couldn't speak for Helen, but for me the choice they made was right on the borderline! -- very painful but just tolerable. I had to stand 'centre-stage' with my legs spread apart and the base of my cock fastened tightly to the top of a rigid post; my wrists were drawn back and down by a chain to the same post, forcing my naked body into a slight arch. Helen had to lie face up, her wrists tied to my ankles and her legs drawn up and very widely apart until her hips were raised well off the floor.

One purpose of all this, I realised, was for each of us to see the other's punishment; another became clear when one of the 'assistant slaves' positioned himself facing me through the Vee of Helen's legs and took aim with a multi-thonged 'cat' of medium weight ... we were to be whipped on the parts of our bodies that had offended!

Helen was given her punishment first - four strokes of the 'cat' placed accurately on the tender lips of her cunt. She tried to bear them stoically, but the third and fourth brought squeals that were almost screams. The sight of these blows landing on the object of my desires, plus a premonition of where I was about to feel the sting of the 'cat', caused my cock to swell enormously ... and this was aided by the ring at its base, tight and immovable!

Its very immovability played a part in my punishment! A naked female 'assistant slave' took up a position similar to her predecessor, but closer to Helen's upraised body, and lifted a light whippy cane. She placed it under my cock and lined it carefully along its length, then with a powerful snap of her wrist applied the first stroke exactly where she'd aimed it. Three more blows followed, placed with similar incredible accuracy, one to each side of my rigidly held prick and the last along the top. The pain was intense, as severe as any I'd ever suffered, but I was proud that I endured it with no more than strangled grunts.

"Your slaves have been punished publicly for their public offence," said the chairman to Master Paul and my Mistress while Helen and I were being untied. "Any further private punishment is, of course, your business ... but we strongly suggest that it's not necessary.

"One more thing, however ... it's our custom, for offences like this, to confine the offending slaves in a special way for a while; will you allow this for your slaves? Naturally, you may visit them in their cell and in this case you may have them released when you wish ... after four hours, shall we say?"

I wasn't surprised when my Mistress and Master Paul readily agreed to this (they seemed determined to get their 'pound of flesh' from me!) and Helen and I were led away by two 'assistant slaves'. We were taken to a nearby 'prison' building and into a cell clearly meant for solitary confinement - it had no windows or even bars and in the big solid door was a hatch through which food could be passed in!

Helen and I didn't speak at all while heavy shackles were fitted on our wrists and ankles; each individual shackle had a strong chain leading to two large padlocks, one for Helen's chains and one for mine, on opposite walls! The length of the chains was adjusted carefully before the padlocks were closed with a click of solid finality. "There," said one of the slaves, "that'll stop you from repeating your little pecadillo, but you're not really uncomfortable, are you?" They left us, closing the cell door with a thud.

We looked at each other for a long moment, and Helen was the first to speak. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" she said. "Please, let me explain ..."

"Don't bother!" I interrupted. "You and Master Paul and my Mistress cooked all this up between you the other night, didn't you? Well, I'm glad you had to be punished too, to make it convincing! Tell me -- did you like having your pussy whipped?" I went and sat down against 'my' wall, as far away as possible.

Helen made to come across to me, but her ankle chains stopped her short of halfway across the cell. She stood uncertainly for a moment, then sat on the floor ... and discovered that was too painful on her tender pussy and knelt instead. She began to speak quietly: "I can see why you think that, but you're wrong. You don't have to listen, but I want to describe everything that led to today's punishment ..."

She talked for a long time, never raising her voice or using phrases like "You've got to believe me!" and "I swear it's true!" At first I listened sceptically, but gradually her quiet sincerity began to convince me. She started by saying that she'd made love to me yesterday on the spur of the moment ("although I'd thought about it a lot earlier!"); afterwards she didn't regret it one bit ("I still don't!") but felt that we should tell Master Paul and my Mistress, and the sooner we did the better; but she'd agreed to my request not to say anything yet.

"I intended to keep that promise to you," she continued, "but when Master Paul was getting ready to go to dinner last night, he somehow suspected something and made me confess. He tied me spreadeagled on the bed and got me very very excited but wouldn't let me come. I'm sorry, Peter, but I just can't stand that for very long and Master Paul is so clever - he knows exactly when to stop touching me and when to start again!"

Despite her pleas, Master Paul had insisted on phoning my Mistress (it must have been while I was in the cells releasing Suzy) because they had been planning to have Helen and me screw on stage last night. (It was at this stage that I started to be convinced and to listen intently!) Wanting to protect me from any more punishment than necessary, Helen had offered to try to persuade me to 'confess' with her ("I was sure I could!" she said). This was the reason for her nearly successful campaign during dinner, and in fact for the choice of restaurant ... where we could be alone a lot to talk!

"But they made one condition that I didn't suggest," her soft voice went on. "If I couldn't persuade you to confess to Mistress Tina before the public punishments today, then I'd have to be punished along with you ... just as if I hadn't confessed in the first place! It wasn't an easy choice, and I very nearly decided to let you 'stew in your own juice'!

"Please, Peter, I want you to know that I do understand why you refused to tell Mistress Tina about us screwing and I don't hold anything against you ... but oh!..." she concluded, "... I wish you had let me persuade you, because my pussy does hurt awfully!"

By this time she had me hanging on every word! Her dignity and especially the fact that she hadn't once abused me for causing her current discomfort, convinced me completely. She looked so small and lonely huddled there in the middle of the floor that I moved over to touch her ... only to find that my chains also stopped me just short of reaching her!

She smiled at me, a wry smile with a touch of hope in it. "They have got us cleverly fixed, haven't they?" she said. "Are you still mad at me? Can you forgive me?"

"Can you forgive me," I cried, "for being so stubborn? It must have been very hard for you, having me change my mind so often, and at the end knowing that you needn't have suffered such pain. I'm so sorry - how can I possibly make it up to you?"

We talked for a long time, comforting each other. We found that, if we knelt, we were a little closer; and the wrist chains were longer than the ankle ones, which allowed us actually to hold hands. I had to wonder at how good a slave Helen was, putting herself in the position she had ... and even now she wouldn't tell me what my Mistress and Master Paul had been doing the night I was at Mistress Anne's, in spite of my repeated pleas.

Later our knees got sore, and we lay on our sides on the hard floor facing each other. Later still we discovered that, if we each lay with our heads away from the wall our chains were fastened to, our bodies 'overlapped'. Our arms were now able to touch each other's face and upper body and (the subtlest touch of all!) we found ourselves in a bizarre sort of 'forced 69'!! And we even used this opportunity ... trying to soothe each other's injured organ with our tongues!

This was how my Mistress and Master Paul found us when they came to visit --it must have been three or four hours after our confinement. Helen didn't move when they came in, and I stayed where I was too, thinking "I hope my Mistress doesn't mind ... and I don't really care if she does!"

They certainly seemed not to mind. They spent a few minutes examining the arrangement of chains and admiring its ingenuity; Master Paul commented, "I wonder how long it took these two to discover how best to use the arrangement." Then they gently pried us apart and made us kneel side by side facing them.

My Mistress spoke to me first, with a reproachful smile tinged with more than a hint of love: "I'm really sorry, slave, that things happened as they did ... but once we'd made the deal with slave Helen, we didn't want to go back on it. It's a pity you didn't let her persuade you to confess, although we don't know just how hard she tried.

"I'm sure you now know how it all came about, just as I know why you didn't want to tell me. Maybe I reacted too strongly when you asked what I did the other night - I'm still not going to tell you, but if I'd explained more gently when you asked, you may not have felt so hurt about it.

"Please believe me - we don't mind at all that you two made love; what upset us is that you didn't tell us about it immediately. If you had, we would probably have punished you in some way for doing it without our permission, but I promise you it wouldn't have been as severe as what you suffered this afternoon. Now, is there anything you want to say?" she concluded.

We all talked freely and honestly about our feelings for a while, and soon I was completely reassured of the sincerity of my Mistress and Master Paul. In any case, I was now so besotted with Helen that I would have agreed to almost anything if it meant I could stay with her. I even complained to Master Paul that he'd been unfair to her by subjecting her to punishment for my refusal to confess, but he replied, "That was her choice, not ours. She was so sure she could persuade you, but she failed ... so in a way she was punished for failing. And somehow I get the feeling," he smiled fondly at Helen, "that she doesn't really regret that choice ...

"And now," he continued, "we want to ask you two to submit to something that may be quite painful. If you really can't, we'll understand, but we very much hope you'll agree. You see, as your Master and Mistress, we feel that we should decide whether and when you fuck each other ... and that we have a right to see you do it. As you know, we were intending to do just that on stage last night, but under the circumstances we chose not to; and now, after all the stimulation of watching your punishment this afternoon, we're even more impatient to see it!

"So we want to make you fuck with your sore prick and pussy! If you're really afraid it might hurt too much, OK, but ... how about it, slaves?"

Helen and I looked at each other, hesitating. Before either of us could say anything, I found my cock, weals and all, getting hard! Helen noticed, of course, gave me a little smile of encouragement and turned to Master Paul: "Slave Peter seems willing, Master," she said, "and, although it doesn't show, I'm just as excited ... but maybe also a little scared of the pain."

The pain was quite bad, but by no means unbearable ... and it was compensated by the pleasure (for me) of screwing my lovely fellow-slave; and she told me later that it was the same for her!

My Mistress and Master Paul decided to keep us in bondage for our 'command performance', but of course they had to do something with the chains fastening us to opposite walls! They solved this problem by releasing my ankle chains only and fastening them to the same wall as Helen's; and when they adjusted the length of my wrist chains I found myself stretched full-length in the middle of the cell floor!

Very gently, so as not to press too hard on the four bruises running the length of my cock, my Mistress began to arouse me and soon my prick was standing up, hard and throbbing with combined pain and excitement. Meanwhile Master Paul adjusted Helen's bondage, tying her wrists and elbows tightly behind her so that her wonderful tits were thrust even further forward than usual ... which also helped me to reach a rock-hard erection! Then he placed her on her knees astride my hips and made her lower herself slowly on to my waiting cock as my Mistress guided it into her moist warm cunt.

This must be the ultimate, I thought, in combining pain and pleasure! Following their explicit instructions, Helen slowly and sensuously moved up and down on my rigid shaft and rocked erotically back and forth. Her cunt was tight enough to cause my weals to hurt significantly, but still moist enough to slide smoothly. We both interspersed murmurs of pleasure with small moans of pain, Helen when the tender lips of her pussy pressed down a little harder, and I when at Master Paul's order she squeezed her pussy muscles ... and she could sure squeeze!

My Mistress and Master Paul watched avidly, their excitement rising as they controlled Helen and me in one of the slowest -- and most erotic -- fucks I've ever had. But at last they could tell that we were reaching the 'point of no return' and made us speed up. Helen came first, her lovely naked body writhing and gyrating above me, which had the inevitable effect of triggering my own climax, and we bucked and thrust against each other in total disregard of the pain as the waves of pleasure engulfed us.

It was just at the peak of my orgasm that my Mistress and Master Paul decided to 'join' us! Master Paul made Helen turn 180 degrees, my cock still deep inside her, which brought new levels of pain and pleasure to my overloaded senses and I howled out loud. But I was stopped in mid-howl as my Mistress knelt astride my head and pressed her lush pussy against my mouth. My head was completely covered by the folds of her skirt, but I did hear Helen cry out too -- a cry just as suddenly cut off as if something was thrust into her open mouth ... no prizes for guessing what!

Never before had I been involved in such a bizarre -- and exciting -- sexual menage! Even though I'd only just experienced an explosive climax, I felt my cock getting hard again almost immediately. I love eating my Mistress' pussy, and this alone can arouse me for ages, but now there was the additional stimulation of Helen's thighs resting on my hips, her warm cunt clutching my cock, my Mistress' hands running over my chest and belly and reaching between Helen's crotch and mine to fondle my balls and squeeze the base of my cock ... and the knowledge that the naked slave-girl impaled on my rigid organ was at the same time servicing Master Paul's cock with her mouth. (She told me later that it was her first time like this too, and that she was constantly being stimulated by Master Paul's hands on her outthrust boobs and my Mistress' on her bum and flanks ... and clit!)

I know my Mistress came twice. Helen came twice too, I thought (she said later she didn't know, the waves of sensation were almost constant!). I came again (I'd never had two climaxes so close together), and Master Paul did too. (Helen told me later how she loves to feel his hot fluid spurting deep into her throat). Then suddenly, quickly, my Mistress and Master Paul rearranged Helen's and my limp and unresisting bodies as we'd been before and made us use our tongues to clean each other.

Not much later they gave us both a very warm hug and a deep and satisfying kiss and left us, telling us that we were free (within the restrictions of our chains) to do what we wanted for the rest of the night. I was so exhausted, both from the traumas of the day and the pleasures of the past hour or two, and so content in the company of my gorgeous naked slave-companion, that I no longer cared what my Mistress might be doing tonight ... or, for that matter, what she did the other night. I also knew now, I told myself, that she does care about me and my pleasure, and I must try to trust her more ... like Helen trusts her Master.

Helen and I talked a good deal more during the evening hours, but mostly we touched and caressed each other and enjoyed just being together. We had no way of telling the time, except that at one point some food was put through the hatch (we ignored it, not at all interested in eating) and shortly afterwards the light went out, leaving us in absolutely pitch darkness. After a while we found that the best way to sleep (and be together!) was in the '69' with our heads pillowed on the other's thigh, and we fell into exhausted sleep.

Sometime during the night we woke (or was it a dream?) and by mutual consent licked and sucked and nibbled each other to a gentle and very pleasant climax.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 8: Separation!

The light was already on when we woke to the sound of the cell door opening to admit my Mistress and Master Paul, looking bright and cheerful.

"Good morning, slaves," they chorused. "We hope you spent an enjoyable night getting to know each other!"

"Your punishment is over," announced my Mistress. "You're just ordinary slaves again now ... In any case," she went on as she cuffed my wrists behind my back before unlocking the chains, "last night wasn't really punishment, was it, Paul?"

"Of course not," grinned Master Paul, shackling Helen in a similar way. "It was simply a chance for you to get to know each other after your official 'introduction' yesterday ... and some introduction it was, wasn't it, my lovely slave-girl? Tell me, after a whole night of swapping secrets, can you stand another day with slave Peter here, before we leave the island for the rest of our cruise?"

"Oh yes, Master!" said Helen, her beautiful eyes shining. "He's nice ... he's got a very sexy cock ... and tongue, too!" she added cheekily, then asked seriously, "Master, is today all we've got? Couldn't we play bondage games with Mistress Tina and slave Peter on the ship like you and I did before?"

"Well ... maybe," replied Master Paul, "but it mightn't be easy to arrange. Anyway I'm glad you're still friends, because we have some exciting and interesting things planned for you on our last day here ..."

"Yes," chimed in my Mistress, "and you might need all your energy to enjoy it. We were told you didn't eat your supper last night -- too busy cuddling and other things, I suppose! -- so you should have plenty of appetite for breakfast ... and you better eat it all!" She brought two bowls of food from the hatch and put them on the floor in front of us.

We did have an appetite too! In spite of having to eat doggy-style from the bowls with our hands fastened behind us, we finished the ordinary-looking but still very tasty food and licked the bowls clean in no time at all. Eager to see what the day would bring, I looked up and asked, "What now, Mistress?"

"First a wash," she grinned, "... prison-style!" She and Master Paul clipped leashes to my ball-lock and Helen's collar and led us out of the cell and up some stairs into a small courtyard. I was quite surprised to find it was still early morning and there was nobody about ... except in the corner they led us to, where two slaves were waiting to wash us!

Not unexpectedly, they were a man and a woman and they were wearing a strange sort of 'chastity-belt-and-shackles' combination. The former consisted of a tight belt and crotch-strap of heavy metal; the man's cock and balls were clearly very constricted within a 'pouch' in his crotch-strap, and the woman's strap was pressed deep between the lips of her pussy. The shackles on their wrists and ankles were connected (by chains made of metal links at least an inch thick) to the 'chastity belt', the wrist-chain to the front and the ankle-chain to the crotch-strap between their legs. Similar chains led from the back of their belts to strong anchors in the walls. Otherwise, apart from large gags filling their mouths, they were naked ... of course!

My Mistress and Master Paul clipped our leashes to rings hanging from the roof and told the two slaves to do their job, which was (they told us later) one of the 'chores' the prisoners could be assigned to for the day. By the end of the day, I thought, they might be getting tired of it, with the weight of all their shackles! ... but at the moment they seemed to be almost enjoying their task.

They sprayed our naked bodies with stinging jets of cold water, soaped and scrubbed us, sprayed us again and rubbed us dry with thick rough towels. With a warning from our owners, they were gentle while soaping - and fondling! - my cock and Helen's pussy, but the rest of us fairly tingled when they'd finished. The final touch was to use a blow-dryer on our hair and, to our embarrassment, even on our pubic hair!

Helen's lovely nakedness glowed with health and beauty as my Mistress and Master Paul led us through the courtyard of the prison; I'm sure I looked good too, I certainly felt fit, in spite of a poor night's sleep on a hard floor. There were more people about now, mostly 'prisoner-slaves' and some 'warders'. It must have been the exercise period, because there were several groups of naked slaves jogging or doing other calisthenics; each group was under the watchful eyes of a warder or two, and all the slaves in a group were shackled together in some way or other.

At the prison office my Mistress and Master Paul had to present Helen and me to be 'checked out'; the numbers on our 'visiting' collar and ball-lock were checked against a list, and we had to answer a few questions about our treatment; this was videotaped, as evidence to protect the prison against our complaining later of maltreatment!. Then my Mistress and Master Paul led us out to freedom -- relatively speaking!

On the way to what they said would be "the first exciting event for the day," my Mistress and Master Paul stopped at one or two shops, leaving us (as usual) tethered to the hitching rail outside. At one place there was a set of ankle stocks arranged for standing rather than sitting, and they used these to fasten one ankle of each of us. This left us standing very close and we couldn't resist the temptation to press our naked bodies together and 'steal' a kiss!

My Mistress and Master Paul caught us 'at it' and teased us a bit, but made it quite clear that they didn't really mind at all. In fact, at the very next stop ("just one more stop here," they said) they found a way to copy that tether using a single strong chain looped around Helen's left and my right ankles. I was starting to feel quite euphoric, what with Helen's lovely sexiness so close to me and the feeling that everything was great between me and my Mistress, and I was really eager to see what was in store for us. But we didn't even get a chance to find out ...!

It happened very quickly. Helen and I were standing face to face, naked bodies pressed together and lips joined in a deep kiss ... when without any warning at all some kind of sack was thrown over us and pulled so tight we could barely move. There was a loud snapping noise, the chain on our ankles fell off and we were lifted bodily into a vehicle and driven away.

After a few moments Helen screamed, almost deafening me in the confines of the sack. I felt like screaming too, but I realised that the sack would almost completely muffle our voices ... and at the same time the thought occurred to me that this might be the 'exciting event' we'd been waiting for. So I managed to calm Helen with this thought and we waited in the suffocating darkness for the journey to end.

Fortunately it wasn't long before the vehicle stopped. We were lifted out, carried a short distance and then stood on our feet again ... and I felt a shackle being fitted to one ankle! Hands steadied us as the sack was lifted over our heads but, as soon as we'd regained our balance, our abductors left ... as suddenly as they'd grabbed us.

Helen and I looked at each other, then down at our feet (we were each shackled to a heavy ring in the floor), then at our surroundings. "Where are we?" whispered Helen, but I already knew; it was Mistress Anne's dungeon where I'd spent a few hours some nights ago. I told Helen this and said, "Mistress Anne's OK -- my Mistress knows her, so I'm sure this must be another surprise. When she comes in, let me do the talking."

We didn't have long to wait. Behind us a door opened and I recognised Mistress Anne's voice saying angrily, "... you brought two of them? Why not just the one I told you to?"

A man's voice replied, "I'm sorry, Mistress, but they were shackled by the same chain and we were afraid we mightn't get another chance."

"Hmph, well, let's have a look at them," she said and walked around to face us. "Yes, he's the one I wanted," she continued after a glance at me, then she turned her attention to Helen.

I decided it was time to say something. "Mistress Anne," I began, "will you please tell us what's happening? We were a bit scared, being shoved into a sack and all. Is my Mistress coming here soon? Did she and Master Paul arrange this? ..."

"Shut him up," Mistress Anne ordered the slave attending her, and a moment later my mouth was plugged with a large ball-gag. "You'll find out all you need to know in a few minutes," she told me firmly, "but first I want to look at your friend here.

"You're not going to make a fuss, are you, my dear?" she spoke kindly to Helen. "It won't do you any good, you know. I simply want to ask you some questions, and having you gagged would only make that awkward. Well?"

Helen answered in a small voice: "No, Mistress, I won't make a fuss ... and I'll try to answer your questions. You won't hurt me, will you ... please?"

"No, of course not!" replied Mistress Anne. "Slave Peter was here a few nights ago, and he'll tell you it was all great fun! Now, what's your name?"

She questioned Helen for a few minutes, finding out who her owner was, when they'd arrived on the island and when they were leaving, and some other details. At the same time she 'inspected' Helen, running her hands (not un-gently) over her generous naked curves. And when her fingers investigated Helen's tender pussy and elicited a small gasp of pain, she asked for the reason and Helen told her about our public punishment yesterday.

"Oh yes," said Mistress Anne, "I heard about that. It shows you have a good slave attitude, and I think we'll keep you two together. Right, now listen to me, both of you ... the bad news is that you've been abducted and this afternoon you'll be auctioned into permanent slavery, probably to one of a number of owners who live on private islands nearby."

I could only stare at her in total disbelief as she went on: "The good news is that I promise you your slavery should be very enjoyable -- you both show all the signs of being truly submissive. In fact, it will be just like life on this island, except that you won't have the option of ending it -- and I suspect that in your cases that option only complicates things!

"I liked the look of you," she said to me, "when your Mistress first brought you to me, and after your behaviour the other night I decided I could more than recoup the loss of my loan to her by abducting and selling you. And you, my girl," -- she gently caressed Helen's luscious tits and rolled their nipples between her fingers -- "you weren't in my plans, but you are a lovely slave! And after what you did leading to your punishment yesterday, I'm sure you're equally good slave material, so I'll offer you to my customers as a pair!"

Helen was obviously just as stunned as I was, because even without a gag she didn't make a sound; she just stared at Mistress Anne with her mouth slightly open. Just then a naked slave-girl entered the room and, when Mistress Anne asked "Yes, what is it?" replied "Someone to see you, Mistress -- a Mistress Tina and Master Paul."

I could almost have fainted with relief! So it had been a game, after all; in a moment my Mistress would come in and smile her teasing smile at me, as if to say, "Scared you, didn't we? You needn't have worried, you know -- we wouldn't let that happen to you, would we now?" And everything would be back to normal.

But Mistress Anne didn't react as I expected. She simply said, "Ah yes. Tell Mistress Tina I'll be with her in a moment." Then she hesitated, and a little smile came to her lips as she said, "No, I've a better idea. You! Put these two in the empty cell over there -- you can take his gag out -- then bring slave number 15 out here!"

Her orders were obeyed with alacrity by a couple of male slaves waiting nearby. Helen and I found ourselves in a cell behind one of the one-way-glass 'windows' lining the dungeon walls. With my gag removed I was able to tell Helen about Mistress Anne's clever arrangement, and we watched as 'slave number 15' -- an enormous negro with skin as black as I've ever seen -- was brought from another cell and tied in a taut spreadeagle, almost suspended in the centre of the room. And then we heard Mistress Anne tell her slave-girl to show the visitors into the dungeon!

She was fondling the black slave's magnificent body casually when they entered. She greeted my Mistress cheerfully and politely acknowledged her introduction to Master Paul, saying "Sorry to keep you waiting -- I was just enjoying the feel of one of my favourite slaves, and couldn't quite tear myself away. Impressive animal, isn't he? But then I thought, why shouldn't I share my pleasure with you? Now what brings you here? I thought we told the immigration people to return your slave's bond direct to me after you leave ... tonight, isn't it?"

"Something terrible has happened," said my Mistress urgently. "We think our slaves may have been abducted by illegal dealers!" She and Master Paul had their backs to Helen's and my cell, but there was no mistaking the note of near-panic in her voice as she described our disappearance from outside the shop and their frantic search.

Mistress Anne's casual attitude instantly changed to concern. Reluctantly, Helen and I had to admire her acting as she listened intently to our owners' story, asked questions and offered help in talking to the police Slave Squad. She also tried to reassure them by saying she was sure their slaves would be recovered: "They're really very good," she said, "with their detectors for the special metal in your slaves' 'visitor shackles', and usually they locate stolen slaves within a few hours."

My Mistress seemed partly reassured, but suddenly she cried, "I've just realised -- you won't get back the bond you lent me if they don't find my slave! But I promise I'll send you the money when I get home."

"Don't worry about it," replied Mistress Anne smoothly. "As it happens, I'm expecting to make a clear profit of at least that amount on some slaves I'll be selling soon, so I won't miss the money." She turned to Master Paul: "I only regret that I can't offer to cover the bond on your slave as well ..."

Throughout this conversation Helen and I had to listen and watch from behind the soundproof glass wall of our cell. Naturally we tried shouting -- even screaming -- at the tops of our voices to attract our owners' attention, but even as we did so we knew it was futile; Mistress Anne was too thorough to overlook that possibility. So we gave up and just listened as the reality of our predicament sank deeper into our minds.

After a while my Mistress and Master Paul took their leave to go to Slave Squad headquarters and answer more questions. Mistress Anne showed them out, but in a few minutes she was back with a broad smile on her face; "They didn't suspect a thing, did they?" she spoke directly to Helen and me through the glass of our cell, "and just in case you're waiting for the Slave Squad to burst through the door with 'detectors' waving, you may like to know that this room is completely shielded from those detectors. Now you'll have to excuse me ... I must go and phone some prospective customers to tell them that I have a lovely matched pair of semi-trained slaves for sale this afternoon."

Before she left, she turned to a nearby slave-girl and said, "Those two can stay in there until it's time to display them for the auction. They may have quite a lot to talk about ... and to keep them entertained, you'll play with number 15 here - and see that you give them a show worth watching!"

The 'show' we got was worth watching. In spite of our fears about what was to become of us, Helen and I couldn't tear our eyes away. The slave-girl, naked, blond and very pretty, caressed the taut naked body of the black slave ... using her hands, lips, tongue, tits, toes, hair, in fact her whole body. The contrast of his powerfully muscled black body, helplessly bound as she draped her delicate white and shapely figure all over him, was intensely erotic. She brought herself off several times by rubbing her clit on various parts of his body and, when at last she took the spurting juices of his large cock deep into her throat, both Helen and I were breathing hard ... and my cock was so hard it almost hurt!

We talked a lot, too, in the several hours we spent in that cell. By now we had agreed that, whatever were our realistic chances of rescue, there was probably nothing at all we could do about it. We discussed at length how we might ensure that the slavery, which now appeared inevitable, would be at least tolerable; and we agreed that co-operation and humble submissiveness were almost certainly our best hope.

But Helen told me two things during that long conversation that made a deep impression on me. The first was that she was really much more concerned for Master Paul than for herself: "He borrowed money against his salary raise for years ahead to pay for this cruise," she said, "and if he loses the $4000 bond, he'll have to borrow even more to pay the bills we've run up here -- the bond would have covered them easily.

"And he won't have me to look after him, to cook his meals and wash his clothes and ... and ... everything ..." Her voice trailed off sadly. I had no comfort to offer her -- instead, I was amazed at how perfect a slave she was; if I was valued at $2000, then she was worth every cent of that $4000 - for her sheer beauty itself, let alone her other wonderful qualities!

Even more amazing for me was when she told me what my Mistress had done on the evening I was at Mistress Anne's. "I promised her I wouldn't tell you," she said, "but I guess now it doesn't matter any more. She didn't make love with Master Paul -- I swear it, I was with them both the whole evening! She wanted to find out a bit about the submissive side -- our side -- of bondage and discipline ... no (I know what you're thinking), not with Master Paul ... she hired a professional Master to tie her up and discipline her, but Master Paul and I shared the same bondage room with them, so I saw everything!"

I was stunned -- I'd misjudged my Mistress completely! And because of that I'd rebelled ... and upset their carefully laid plans for Helen and me to have sex ... and caused that public punishment for Helen and me. I even began to wonder whether my actions had also caused -- indirectly -- our present plight. I was overtaken by a sort of guilty curiosity and pumped Helen for every detail she could remember.

She described how my Mistress had submitted to being slowly and deliberately stripped naked by her temporary 'Master'; how he'd shackled her wrists and ankles and forced her to kneel and kiss his feet; how she'd been led, hobbled and stumbling, around the room with strong spring clamps pulling painfully on her nipples; how her lovely tanned naked body had been tied in many different and quite severe positions; how she'd been forced to 'fuck' herself on a large dildo fixed to a post, her long slim legs spread wide and her arms stretched high above her head, while her 'Master' ran his hands all over her body and pinched her hard on her tits and belly and elsewhere as she came again and again; how he'd ordered her to beg to be whipped and how, with hardly a murmur, she'd accepted several strokes with a cane and paddle and whip on her bottom and lower back and quite a number with a light multi-thionged cat' on her belly and breasts; how she had to spend a long time on her very widely spread knees, her arms pulled tightly up between her shoulders to the back of a helmet (covering the whole of her head except her mouth) while her Master' rubbed his large cock over her naked body and made her lick his bum and crotch ("the indignity," Helen commented, "of not even seeing what you're licking!"); and finally how she'd managed with some difficulty to suck his cock as he pumped it deep into her throat and to swallow his hot liquid when he climaxed.

Helen also commented how clever my Mistress had been in allowing herself to be whipped only where the marks would normally be covered; and I remembered that I hadn't seen her naked since that night, and even the swimsuit she'd worn at the beach was not very revealing. And, almost as an afterthought, Helen added, "You know, Master Paul later told me that he thought Mistress Tina would make as good a slave as a Mistress ... and that he'd love to try having two female slaves at once! He threatened me with a real whipping if I ever told anyone -- especially not Mistress Tina! But it doesn't matter now."

We were practically resigned to our 'fate' by the time Mistress Anne came back several hours later to prepare us for the auction. Under her directions two slaves released us from the cell, sponged our bodies and powdered and perfumed them lightly. Our wrists were released from behind our backs (where they'd been held since early morning) only to be re-tied high above our heads, and our ankles were spread so wide apart we were almost hanging by our arms.

While her slaves were aiming some powerful spotlights at our naked bodies, Mistress Anne approached us and said, "In a few minutes you'll be inspected by a number of people who may wish to bid for you. I trust I won't need to gag you, because they may wish to ask you some questions. But I warn you -- one word out of place and you'll get ten severe lashes with this" -- she held up a vicious-looking six-foot whip -- "... no, even better ... your companion will get the lashes! And I can tell you from years of experience that slaves on the auction block with fresh whip marks attract high bids from buyers who tend to be cruel; it suggests the slaves enjoy being whipped. Well?"

Helen and I looked at each other; no words were needed, and we turned back to Mistress Anne and promised not to misbehave. "Good," was her reply. "You're already coming to terms with being full-time permanent slaves ... and that means you're much more likely to enjoy it!" She supervised the adjustment of the spots to highlight our stretched nakedness to the best advantage, then left the room "to welcome my guests."

Most of the other slaves left, too, but a few remained standing in the shadowed corners. After a few minutes the first of the 'buyers' entered, followed over a period of twenty minutes or so by six or seven more. They all seemed to know each other well and they chatted cheerfully while 'inspecting' Helen and me, running their hands freely and intimately over our helpless naked bodies, prodding our muscles and pinching our skin, making us open our mouths and poke out our tongues ... and asking us questions about how long we'd been slaves, what kind of training we'd had and what sort of treatment we hoped for as permanent slaves. I noticed with something like jealousy that they all seemed very interested in Helen's firm full tits, accentuated as they were by the pull of her arms over her head.

When the 'buyers' finished their inspection, they sat down in comfortable armchairs that had been placed in a semicircle around Helen and me. Mistress Anne entered now, followed by two other slaves we hadn't seen before; she checked that the seated 'buyers' had completed their inspections, then gestured the two slaves in our direction.

Now they 'inspected' us in exactly the same way as the others had, and somehow it was even more humiliating to be treated in this impersonal way by mere slaves, naked like ourselves but obviously with some higher status. While they were handling us, I wondered what was the meaning of this additional inspection; surely these slaves wouldn't be bidding for us? or was it just a subtle way of impressing on us how insignificant we were? When they'd finished with us, they went and sat behind the other buyers.

Mistress Anne now stood up and faced her audience. "Mistresses and Masters," she said, "and slaves representing Mistresses or Masters!" (So that was it, I thought) "Thank you for attending my little auction. As you know, I intended to offer one slave only (the male you see before you) but the best opportunity to snatch him came when he was shackled with the female.

"After looking at my unexpected windfall," she casually caressed Helen as she went on, "I decided to offer them as a pair -- which I knew would greatly interest some of you. If you're interested in only one of these fine bodies, I'm afraid you'll have to buy both ... but of course you'll be quite free to re-sell the other, immediately if you wish. Now, a little background ..."

She briefly described how I'd first come to her notice, how she'd decided (after the evening I'd spent with her and her friends) that my bond had under-valued me and there was an opportunity to turn a profit and, finally, a little about Helen -- especially what was apparently fairly well known, the story of our public punishment yesterday. Then she stood between us, one hand on Helen's pussy and the other on my cock, and said, "So who'll make the first bid?" ... and the auction was on!

"One thousand!" said a voice, to which Mistress Anne responded with exaggerated horror: "Oh come now, you're not serious, surely? ... for both these handsome slaves? ... do I hear a better offer? ... much better, or I'll have to keep them for myself!" But the bids continued to come only slowly and as our price crept past $2,000 it was clear Mistress Anne was really beginning to worry and eventually she said, "If you can't do better than this, I won't sell today. I'm sure I can find other buyers with a better eye for value."

Suddenly one of the slave 'proxies' spoke, for the first time. "Four thousand!" was the bid, and Mistress Anne brightened considerably. "Thank you! That's more like it ... now I will sell ... any advance on four thousand?"

As if by magic, the atmosphere changed completely! Some of the buyers exchanged broad grins and entered the bidding with enthusiasm. Mistress Anne was taken aback for a moment, but recovered quickly and said with a wry grin, "Very funny! I admit you had me a little worried there. Now where were we? ..." I realised that they'd only been teasing her and trying to discover how much she thought we were worth!

The bidding rose quickly to $8,000, then slowed as it approached $10,000! Eventually there were only two bidders left, the slave 'proxy' who'd bid $4,000 and a tall handsome Master who I think was more than interested in Helen. They sparred with each other for some time, Mistress Anne coaxing bids from them in true auctioneer's style, but at last the slave bid $11,850 and the other conceded. With a flourish Mistress Anne cried, "Going, going, gone!" and, using a large paddle as her gavel, struck Helen and me resounding cracks on our bellies to signify the end of the auction.

A few minutes later all the others had left, leaving Helen and me alone with Mistress Anne and the slave who was acting for a mysterious Mistress or Master. He now 'looked us over' again, fondling our helpless naked bodies even more thoroughly and in a very proprietary manner. "Ah yes," he said in a pleased tone, "I'm sure the Master and Mistress will be very happy with this purchase ... and I think I can guarantee that you two will enjoy your slavery, so long as you behave and obey and are properly submissive."

Mistress Anne discussed with him the arrangements for delivery of 'the merchandise' -- apparently Helen and I would be taken to a certain remote pier soon after dark, from where a boat would take us to our new owners. When Mistress Anne asked if she should have our 'visitor' collar and ball-lock removed, the slave replied, "Thank you, ma'am, but no. The Master and Mistress will see to that -- as you know, it takes some time and care to remove them without risk of injuring the slave -- and they also like to keep them as 'trophies' of how they've thumbed their noses at the slavery controls on this island! Now, could I please have them untied so that I can put the Master's and Mistress' personal padlocks on them?"

Helen and I were untied by Mistress Anne's slaves and he produced two long thin chains and two padlocks from a bag he carried. Threading one through a ring on Helen's collar, he passed it down and between her legs and looped its ends around her wrists before fastening it with a padlock; the other chain was fitted to my ball-lock and wrists in the same way, except that first it was linked with Helen's. This meant that Helen and I were shackled inescapably back to back, with only enough slack just barely to stand side by side.

"Now you really belong to the Master and Mistress," he grinned as he snapped the second padlock shut. "The only keys to these padlocks never leave their possession! And being shackled back-to-back like that should keep you out of mischief; your new owners do not like their slaves screwing without their permission!

"Oh, one more thing, Mistress Anne," he continued. "Will you please ensure that these two wear hoods and gags when you deliver them? That seems to cover everything, thank you ... except, of course, the small matter of payment. I have a signed cheque here ..."

They went out, leaving Helen and me to be returned to the cell to await our delivery to our new owners. It wasn't easy to talk while sitting back-to-back, but we tried to keep our spirits up by reminding each other that at least we'd be together. Naturally, we also wondered aloud what the 'Master and Mistress' were like and how they would treat us, and Helen observed optimistically that the slave who'd acted for them certainly hadn't looked unhappy or badly treated.

During the two or three hours we had to wait, we were able to watch through the glass some of the activities of Mistress Anne's slave stable. Slaves came and went and were put into or released from cells, sometimes by other slaves, once or twice by Mistress Anne or another 'free' (that is to say, clothed) person. One male slave was suspended by his widespread ankles for about an hour, during which he had to beg every passerby whose hands were free to pinch, tickle or tease his naked inverted body in some way. Another slave, this one female, was punished for some error by being put in a pillory arrangement and receiving at least fifty resounding whacks with a leather paddle until her bum-cheeks were as red as ripe cherries.

But in all the activity we saw, there was no sign that the slaves were anything but willing prisoners. Even the few complaints we heard, and the occasional resistance to being bound or imprisoned in a cell, were quite clearly made in a spirit of fun ... and as part of the tradition of bondage and slavery on the island. Helen and I took this proof, that Mistress Anne treated her slaves well, as a good sign that she was unlikely to sell us into something much worse -- even if we'd lost our chance to 'opt out' of slavery, maybe that slavery could be tolerated ... or even enjoyed!

Later we were given 'dinner' to eat ... not at all easy, the way we were shackled, but the slaves who brought it were good enough to set the bowls of food on low benches so that we could both kneel and bend down to eat. We found we were starving and ate everything we were given.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 9: Our New Owners?

After the meal two strong men entered the cell and said, "OK you two, time to go. Open up!" Knowing that resistance was quite useless, we opened our mouths to receive the gags that were tightly strapped in place. "We won't need the hoods yet," said one of our 'escorts'. "The van has no windows, so we'll put them on just before we meet the boat." I was grateful for this (and so was Helen, I was sure) ... but less so for the way they chose to move us.

Our back-to-back shackles would have made walking difficult, so they used two strong bars (padded, thank goodness!); passing them under our armpits, they simply hoisted us off the ground! Although most of our weight was borne by our shoulders, our arms had been shackled tightly enough by the chains that this caused some distinctly uncomfortable tension between our legs and (in my case) on my balls! Fortunately it was a trip of only minutes down some corridors to a waiting van. We were lifted inside and the bars under our shoulders were fastened into sockets on the walls, but low enough for us to stand quite comfortably. I realised that this was a very safe way to transport us; we couldn't fall and hurt ourselves, and we avoided the discomfort of lying on bound arms or -- worse still -- one on the other!

The drive lasted at least an hour, the last ten minutes or so along a rough winding track. Finally we stopped but, before the van was opened, Helen's and my heads were encased in thickly padded leather hoods, rendering us blind and virtually deaf as well as dumb. After a short wait -- contacting the boat, I guessed -- we were lifted out of the van into the balmy night air; some hands pushed between our bodies -- to check our identity by the padlocks, most likely -- then we were carried a short distance on level ground and down some steps (or a gangplank?) and stood on the deck of what was clearly a smallish boat.

The bars were removed from our armpits ... and I wondered how we were ever to keep our balance on a moving boat without our sight. But I needn't have worried -- obviously the 'delivery staff' weren't about to let the 'merchandise' get damaged! -- because before the boat got under way we were firmly and not uncomfortably tied to something solid ... a mast, perhaps? I briefly entertained the hope that we might be seen and rescued by a passing police patrol ... until the engine started (I felt it through my feet first, but its powerful roar even penetrated the hood!) and I guessed this boat could probably outrun any police patrol.

The voyage didn't last very long, but at high speed we must have covered quite some distance. It was a strange experience to feel the wind and spray on my naked body and yet to be unable to see or hear anything but the dull roar of the engine. Not so strange -- in fact, by now we were really quite used to it! -- was the way my naked helpless body was repeatedly, almost constantly, handled by I don't know how many pairs of hands (Helen told me later that exactly the same happened to her). And the very fact of being blind and deaf, and knowing that we were headed for a new life of complete slavery, somehow intensified the sensations caused by these hands; my cock stood out like the bowsprit of a ship, which inevitably brought even more intimate fondling by those invisible hands!

When at last we stopped, Helen and I were untied from the mast or whatever, thick ropes were passed under our armpits ... and suddenly we felt ourselves being lifted into the air; "... taking leave," I thought, "of the delivery team we never saw or heard, but certainly felt!" Not knowing how high we were or anything, this was a little scary; but it was soon over and we were lowered and steadied by several pairs of hands to stand on a solid floor again. Some hands again went to check the padlocks, but this time they fell open, freeing my wrists ... but only momentarily, because they were immediately re-fastened into what felt like ordinary handcuffs.

I felt the chain being drawn between my legs and then there was a tug on my ball-lock ... the chain was being used as a leash! Obediently but very hesitantly, I stepped forward and nearly fell over -- the trip on the launch and the lack of vision had clearly upset my balance, and the solid floor felt as if it was moving! -- but several hands steadied me as I followed the insistent tug on my cock. Presumably Helen was being led beside me, but I had no way of knowing.

After a walk of fifty yards or so, including several turns, I was made to stand still. The hands continued to hold me steady while more hands fastened cuffs on my ankles and drew my legs wide apart. Then my wrists were released from the handcuffs and pulled above my head ... and in no time I was stretched in a taut spreadeagle and no longer needed any supporting hands at all!

A short pause - during which I had a sudden moment of fear that our new owners were really cruel and that my next sensation might be the vicious slash of a big whip across my back or ...? Instead the hands came back, but now only one pair, woman's hands which proceeded to caress every inch of my naked and totally available body. My new Mistress, I said to myself, giving her new slave his first thorough inspection -- I hope she likes what she sees!

The 'inspection' took a long time -- literally every square inch of my body was touched. The fear I'd felt earlier disappeared, because the hands were gentle, even when they were pinching and prodding; and they returned constantly to my cock and balls, cleverly and insistently arousing me until my organ was rock-hard. And even when they moved behind me to inspect my back, the hands frequently reached around me or (more exciting still!) crept between my spread legs to keep my erection as hard as ever.

At last, having touched all the rest of me, my new Mistress decided to uncover my head and face. From behind, she unfastened the hood and lifted it off ... and I was completely dazzled by a bright light shining right into my eyes. Simultaneously a voice said from behind the light, "Welcome to your new home, slaves. Your Master and Mistress have looked you over and decided to keep you, and now it's time for you to meet them!" I felt the woman behind me begin to move around to my right, I turned my head ... and looked into the smiling eyes of my Mistress ... Mistress Tina ... the Mistress I'd given up hope of seeing again!

So it had been another trick of hers! Of hers? But I was certain Helen hadn't been in on this ... what about her? I turned my head to the left and there she was, tied just like I was and looking into the face of Master Paul with streaming eyes -- whether from the bright lights or from emotion, I couldn't tell.

My Mistress came right in front of me and gently but firmly pulled my head to face her. "Yes," she said quietly, "we played this trick on both of you. Maybe we did go too far this time, but we found the idea too exciting to resist and we only hope that you'll forgive us."

I felt a surge of sheer fury rising up inside me. How could she have done this to me? I wanted to scream. But suddenly, inexplicably, the rage was replaced by a wave of total relief ... that I wasn't about to start a life of permanent slavery ... that I was back with the Mistress I knew and who knew me.

She saw the play of these emotions in my eyes, but clearly she wasn't quite sure what they meant. "I'm sure you want to say something," she said, "but I want you to be patient, please. In a little while, I promise, we'll be alone together and I'll listen to anything you want to say; but first I want you to meet some friends of ours. Ready, Paul?"

From the corner of my eye I saw Master Paul smile at Helen, saying, "Yes, ready"; and then he and my Mistress stepped aside. Simultaneously the bright lights were turned off and other lights were turned up ... facing us across a large room were about fifty people! Once again Helen and I were on public display for a crowd of strangers ... but then I found (to my surprise) that I recognized some of them, particularly a few who wore the uniforms of ship's officers.

A ship's crew? We were on a ship? Suddenly I also recognized the room we were in -- it was the ballroom of the cruise ship! And some of the people were passengers with whom we'd shared the first few days of the cruise!

But something was different ... some of them (about half, in fact) were naked or nearly so, and most of these were wearing shackles of some kind and either kneeling or standing while those who were clothed were sitting in comfort. Gradually the truth began to dawn on me ....

My Mistress must have been watching my face and this time she did read my expressions correctly because she said, "Yes, slave, I think you've guessed. But now the Captain will explain everything ..."

The Captain stepped forward, looking smart and responsible in his crisp white uniform. "Yes, slave Helen and slave Peter, it's true," he said. "All the passengers on this ship are into bondage and discipline and slavery, and these activities are the whole purpose of these cruises!

"At the beginning of each cruise, if we have newcomers like yourselves on board, we have a custom of pretending to be ordinary holidaymakers until you have been 'initiated' by a few days on the island. Remember those first few days on board, how you and your Master or Mistress used to retire to your cabin after dinner to play at bondage? I gather that you, slave Peter, felt as if everyone guessed what you were doing.

"Well," he continued with a grin, "you were right, they did guess; they knew! And they were doing it too, only they were all joining in! And now that you two have been 'initiated', you and your Master and Mistress will be able to join in the fun too! So, on behalf of everyone ... welcome back on board, slaves Helen and Peter!" There was a burst of applause, which seemed quite genuine and enthusiastic, and a few cries of "Hear, hear!"

"And now," continued the Captain, "I think it's time to remove those 'visitor' shackles, Mistress Tina and Master Paul." My Mistress stepped in front of me again and her hands went to my crotch; I flinched, remembering what had been said after the auction about injury if the ball-lock wasn't removed carefully. But a moment later it fell off and my Mistress held it up for me to see; it had two keys in it and I wondered how she'd got hold of the second! She stepped aside again and handed the ball-lock to someone behind me.

"Good," said the Captain. "Now there's one more important matter: you've both been through an unusual experience today and you've had no opportunity so far to say how you feel about it. Your Master and Mistress would like to tell you their side and listen to what you have to say ... but they acknowledge your right to opt out of your slavery right now. Or, if you want to discuss it with them, you may like someone else to be present to ensure you get a fair hearing.

"So now I'll ask each of you a few questions, and I guarantee that your wishes (just nod or shake your head) will be respected. You first, slave Helen: do you want to opt out of your slavery now? ... do you want a separate cabin for the rest of the cruise to keep away from from the bondage activities and think about it? ... would you like myself, or one of my senior officers of your choice, to be present to see that your Master listens to any complaints you have? ... OK then, are you willing for your Master to take you to his cabin and tell you in his own way about today's events and listen in his own way to your reactions?"

To the first three questions Helen, with only the merest hesitation, shook her head emphatically ... and at the last one she didn't hesitate at all, but nodded very firmly, her shining eyes fixed on Master Paul. I had to admire her cheerful and obviously loving submission to everything he did to her, and I felt I just had to follow her example ... but, when the Captain turned to me, I had a sudden mischievous idea.

To his first and second questions I responded as Helen had, by shaking my head; but at the third (the one about having a ship's officer present for my complaints) I paused for a long moment before eventually nodding. Watching my Mistress' face, I could see that this worried her a little, although she tried not to show it.

"OK," acknowledged the Captain. "Now ... I'm off duty this evening. Nod if you'll accept me as your arbitrator; otherwise we'll try to find someone else to suit." I nodded, and he went on: "I think it would be best to have this discussion immediately, don't you agree, Mistress Tina? ... So unless you have a very good reason for postponing it, slave, nod your head again."

I did so, and the Captain announced to the audience that this particular entertainment was over. Master Paul and my Mistress quickly released Helen and me from our tightly stretched bondage and fastened our wrists behind us, firmly but comfortably, before leading us from the ballroom to our respective cabins. The Captain, who had excused himself to see to something, met my Mistress and me at our cabin and, as soon as the door closed behind us, he suggested some 'ground rules' for the discussion between us.

"There should be no need," he said, "for yelling or screaming, and I'll assist in restraining the first of you who tries anything like that or becomes abusive or violent. Otherwise, I'll stay in the backgound and only intervene if I think one of you isn't getting a fair hearing from the other. I won't make any decisions or rulings on anything -- you have to work out your own problems in your own way. Now, I guess the time has come to take out your gag, slave ... there! We'll wait while you get the stiffnes out of your jaw, and meanwhile -- do you agree to these suggestions, Mistress Tina, and are there any other conditions you'd like?"

"No, that's all fine by me," responded my Mistress; she was clearly still nervous about what I might say, and I think she just wanted to get on with it!

The Captain turned to me and asked, "If your mouth is ready to behave, there are a couple of questions you may wish to answer first. One is: do you want the handcuffs off your wrists?"

I'd been working my jaw to ease the stiffness of several hours with the gag, and I was able to answer: "Yes please, sir."

While my Mistress removed the handcuffs, he went on: "And would you like to put some clothes on? Being naked, you might feel at a disadvantage in the discussions with your Mistress."

"No thank you, sir," I replied. "I'm getting very used to being naked all the time. But," I smiled mischievously, "perhaps my Mistress could take her clothes off to make us equal?"

"No!" said the Captain firmly. "I won't ask her to do that. Either you wear clothes, or we all stay as we are. The offer's still open, but I won't wait all night while you decide about that or any other requests you may have before getting down to business ... well?"

I hesitated just a few moments (as if I was considering asking to wear clothes), then said "I'm sorry, sir, for making such an improper suggestion. I think I should stay as I am. And my only other request is: would you leave my Mistress and me alone now, please?"

"What?" he and my Mistress said together, obviously taken aback. "But you indicated you wanted someone to 'referee' your complaints with Mistress Tina," he continued. "Why the sudden change?"

"No change really, sir," I explained with a grin. "I just wanted to scare my Mistress a little and make her wonder what my complaints would be. Really, sir, I do trust her to listen to them very fairly -- and I have hardly any complaints anyway!"

"Well, I'll be damned," grunted the Captain. "But now I'm not sure if you can be trusted -- maybe this was just a ploy to be left alone with your Mistress without shackles, and you're planning to overpower her and get revenge for what happened to you. Mistress Tina, if I leave you alone with your slave, do you want him shackled again?"

Before my Mistress could answer, I spoke up urgently: "Please sir, I want you to be sure I'm sincere. Please tie my hands again!" And I turned my back to him, presenting my wrists crossed behind my back.

There was a short silence, during which my Mistress watched the Captain over my shoulder and nodded and shook her head once or twice. Then his voice behind me said, "I think I'll take up your offer - if only to impress on you that I don't like my time being wasted by the little games of slaves like you!" He tied my wrists together expertly, tight without real discomfort, then said with more than a hint of humour in his voice, "Let's make quite sure you can't leap up and attack your Mistress - on your knees, slave!" I obeyed and he proceeded to tie the other end of the rope to my ankles.

Meanwhile my Mistress and I looked at each other wordlessly. Her earlier uncertainty about what I wanted to say was replaced by a look of combined affection, trust ... and confidence that I still trusted her. There was also a hint of amused respect at the little trick I'd played on her ... and, although I had the feeling that she'd tease me in return with threats of dire punishment for it, I was quite confident she wouldn't really hold it against me.

"There!" said the Captain, coming around beside me. "That should keep him under control, Mistress Tina. If you want my advice," he continued with a broad grin, "you'll just nudge him over onto his face when you've finished and he can spend the night in a nice hogtie. And one last thing ..." he reached down and pinched both my nipples -- hard! "... his little game made me cancel my plans for a very enjoyable evening with my favourite slave, so I suggest it would only be fair for your slave to spend a while with me sometime to make up for it!" My Mistress laughingly agreed and he left, leaving us looking at each other, not quite sure what to say.

"Well," said my Mistress quietly, "I guess we should start with your complaints ..."

"First, Mistress," I said seriously, "I have an apology to make rather than a complaint. I've behaved badly over the last few days, partly because I felt you were being unfair in not allowing me to have an orgasm, but mostly because I was jealous. You see, I thought that you and Master Paul spent the night together when I was at Mistress Anne's and that obviously you made love. I know I've got no right to stop you screwing other men, but that doesn't stop me feeling jealous! So I made a protest by letting Helen make love to me... Anyway, Helen told me today what you really did that night and now I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions and then misbehaved because I guessed wrong."

"I told Helen not to tell you about that!" said my Mistress angrily. "The little bitch! I'll have her skin for this tomorrow!"

"No, Mistress, please!" I begged her. "Don't blame Helen. She did keep her word, even though I tried several times to get her to tell me. But today she thought -- we both thought -- we'd never see you again, so there didn't seem any point in keeping your secret any longer. You see that, don't you, Mistress?"

"Yes, you're right," she conceded after a moment. "I hadn't thought of it in quite that way. But I will tease her a little for being a gossip, I think. So you thought I'd been screwing Master Paul, did you? That explains a lot -- I never could understand why you were so upset about me not letting you come until I chose to, or just about me refusing to tell you what I did that night. How much did Helen tell you about that night, anyway?"

"A lot, Mistress," I smiled. "It took her well over an hour. And now that I know most of it, would you mind very much if I said I'd just love to hear your version of it?"

"No, I don't mind -- not now," she replied. "But I don't want to tell you yet; I'm not quite sure yet how I feel about it and I don't want you getting any ideas, because I get so much fun out of being your Mistress. No hard feelings, but no promises just yet. Fair enough?"

"OK, Mistress," I said. "But speaking of getting ideas: Helen told me something that you don't know. Apparently Master Paul told her afterwards that he quite fancies the idea of having two female slaves to play with even if just for a day or so, and that you'd do nicely as the second!"

"Oh, he does, does he?" exclaimed my Mistress in surprise. "Well, he'll be lucky! I have no intention at all of 'switch-hitting', as they call it, for the rest of this cruise. Anything else I should know about?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't think so, Mistress. But I do have one small request you may be kind enough to grant: Helen said how careful you were not to let yourself be marked where it would be seen and I must admit that, until she mentioned it, I wasn't really aware that I haven't seen your lovely body since that night, not even to bathe you! Would it be terribly impertinent of me to ask if I could see any marks that are still left?"

"Yes, very impertinent," she replied with mock severity. "But I'll overlook it this time." She stood up and quickly stripped, until her lovely slim and shapely body was naked to my adoring eyes. "And you'll not only see the marks ... I want you to kiss every square inch of me that was whipped; you can start with my left breast ..."

I obeyed willingly; as she bent over me I covered her beautiful firm tits with kisses, especially where a few faint marks from the 'cat' remained, then moved on to her belly where I had to run my tongue gently along a weal that was still quite tender. Next she turned her back and I had to plant kisses on the generous curves of her buttocks; "... all over," she said, "because I can't see where the marks are!"

One thing led to another (as the saying goes) and before long she'd bent forward and my mouth was pressed to her lush pussy and my tongue was busy on her clit. She came quite quickly and, when she'd caught her breath, she said contentedly, "Ah yes, it is good to have you back, slave ... especially that tongue of yours! Now I think it's time I gave you the whole story of your 'abduction' and 'auction' ... unless you've thought of any other complaints?"

"No, Mistress," I replied. "Please tell me everything. One thing does bother me, though; how could you be sure that the fake abduction wouldn't turn into a real one? It's all over now and nothing did go wrong, thank goodness, but were you really keeping your promise not to let things get out of control?"

"We were as sure as we could possibly be," said my Mistress. "Maybe not quite 100 percent, but very nearly. Let me start at the beginning ..." She told me how the idea had come to her the very first night we were on the island ... how she'd discussed it with Mistress Anne before she even showed me to her, and how Mistress Anne wanted to 'borrow' me to be sure she could make the 'auction' convincing ... how our meeting up with Master Paul and Helen had complicated matters (new Masters and Mistresses were encouraged to try not to meet up with each other, in case their slaves guessed the truth about the ship) ... how she and Master Paul had spent most of last night arranging things ... how they'd told the Slave Squad what they wanted to do and asked for their help in ensuring nothing went wrong ... how one of the 'proxies' at the auction was a Slave Squad officer, and the men who drove us to the boat, and the boat was actually a police launch!

"You never realised, I'm sure," she concluded, "that Master Paul and I were never far away. We watched the auction from Mistress Anne's private room overlooking her dungeon -- and we were very proud of the way you both behaved yourselves! And we followed your van in another car ... and we even came back here on the launch with you! You never guessed, did you, that some of the hands fondling you were ours!

"And there's one more thing that you probably still don't know; the auction was real, in the sense that some bidders thought you were really for sale for permanent slavery (that sort of thing does happen, which is why the Slave Squad exists!). Not, of course, the proxy who bought you -- he's the slave of another passenger on the ship, and he was told to simply outbid all the others. And how about the price they bid? Just think, Mistress Anne could have made an enormous profit! ... and what if Master Paul and I had decided we preferred the money? Don't worry, we were never tempted; we care for you too much!"

During her story she encouraged me to tell her of my thoughts and feelings while Helen and I had been on the other side of things. We discussed these freely and frankly; her concern and readiness to apologize quickly dissipated any last bad feelings I had. When she finally asked if I had any more complaints, I replied honestly: "No, Mistress, I'm just glad to be back with you, and especially grateful that you weren't tempted by the profit you could have made. It was a bit scary at times, but I'll be quite honest ... sometimes the idea of permanent full-time slavery did get me very excited. I guess I'm just a born slave!"

"I'm so glad you are!" cried my Mistress and she gave me a long bear-hug and an equally long and loving kiss. "And now that we've sorted everything out between us, I think it's time I gave you a little reward for taking this practical joke so well!"

We didn't get to sleep until very late! We talked a bit more, but mainly my Mistress made love to me. She untied me, but left one ankle shackled with a long chain ("You're my slave again now, OK?" she grinned, "and I'm not about to let you get away easily!"). My hands and lips and tongue explored every inch of her lovely body, and her hands did the same to mine. My mouth spent a lot of time buried in the dark thatch of her pussy (she had several orgasms!); best of all, she allowed my eager cock to bury its length deep in her tight wet cunt!

I had two climaxes before falling asleep in my Mistress' arms. Later I woke briefly and found myself on a pallet, shackled; but I knew I was back with my Mistress and soon drifted off again into contented sleep.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 10: Life on a Slave Ship!

We got up very late the next morning. My Mistress had coffee and toast sent up while I showered ... and then bathed and dressed her. Over breakfast, she told me more about the ship and crew.

Not only were all the passengers B&D fans, but the whole crew as well; the officers and senior crew members were all Masters and Mistresses, and they all owned one or more of the slaves that made up the rest of the crew, like deck-hands and stewards. When on duty, these wore collars (but usually nothing else!) to mark them as crew and to indicate their job; off-duty, they were confined to the crew slave-quarters or to their owners' cabins unless the owners chose to join in the passengers' activities. While the slavery in the crew ranks was full-time and virtually permanent (but voluntary nonetheless), most of the passengers were people like my Mistress and me -- with an 'occasional' or 'part-time' Master-Mistress/slave arrangement.

By this time we'd finished our breakfast, and I was as anxious as she was to see all this in action. Before leaving our cabin, she called Master Paul's, but there was no answer, so she took me on a leisurely tour of the more interesting parts of the ship.

It was the same ship, of course, yet everything seemed different. There were Masters and Mistresses everywhere with their naked or near-naked slaves. Some of the slaves wore no shackles at all, but others were shackled or even quite heavily and elaborately harnessed. The most noticeable thing was that everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves; if orders were given in sharp tones, or slaps for minor errors were given with apparent anger, or ropes were pulled tight with real strength, it was all in fun and part of the game.

I recognised some people from the first few days we'd been aboard; and it was quite strange to discover which of the people we'd met then were Masters or Mistresses and which were slaves! But there were others whom I didn't know, and I asked my Mistress where they had come from.

"Well," she said, "there are a number of holiday itineraries available. Some of the people who sailed with us stayed on board for the whole two-week cruise; others got off at the island, and are staying either until the ship calls on the next cruise, or even for longer periods ... months or years! Their places were taken by people who had disembarked on the last or earlier visits. You didn't guess, did you, that some of the people we saw on the island would be coming back on the ship with us?"

She was right, of course; there were some faces I recognised, not from the first days aboard, but from the island. And it sometimes wasn't only faces I recognised; it was also the naked tits and cocks and balls of slaves!

"There are rules and conditions here, too," my Mistress told me. "Not just for slaves, but also for us owners. For example, we have to respect the 'ownership rights' of other Mistresses and Masters, and not use their slaves without their permission and the slave's consent."

A few minutes after saying this, she seemed to break this very rule. A male slave, naked except for ankle shackles and handcuffs behind his back, passed close to us; my Mistress stopped him and spent a few moments fondling his body, especially his defenceless cock and balls! He submitted without a murmur and even thanked her politely when she'd finished.

I wasn't game to question her actions, but she saw the confusion in my eyes and explained with a smile: "There's an unwritten agreement that, if a slave is shackled and unaccompanied by an owner, it's an open invitation to any Master or Mistress for a quick fondle. You better remember that! Of course, if you're not willing to submit to that, I can always hang a note to that effect from one of your nipples or your cock!"

The passengers and (off-duty) crew-members were enjoying a wide variety of activities. Some were swimming or just lounging about and soaking up the sun; a few slaves were deepening their tans whether they liked it or not, spreadeagled to rings in the deck or even tied to a slowly-turning spit arrangement! Others were playing ship-board games, but nearly all the activities had some bondage-oriented twist to them!

For example, even the simple activity of swimming was different for slaves; we were expected to do it while wearing shackles of some kind or another! In most cases, this meant only a short 'hobble' chain between the ankles, allowing the small kicking action required but nothing more; but some stricter owners even insisted on their (presumably more experienced) slaves swimming with their arms shackled behind their backs!

The only way this could work was for the slave to do a kind of back-stroke, using just the kicking action to move through the water. We saw one slave-girl who was very good at this, and she looked good too; her large breasts thrust proudly skywards as she lay on her back and paddled to and fro across the pool, smilingly accepting the frequent caresses of Masters and Mistresses as they swam alongside.

We came upon one 'sport' that interested my Mistress enough to stay and watch; after a while she said to me "I'd like to try this -- how about it?" A few minutes later the opportunity arose to join in and I found myself (with a number of other slaves) acting as a target for pistol-shooting practice! Fortunately, the pistols fired harmless soft plastic pellets!

We slaves were bound in a line, spreadeagled and facing my Mistress and the other 'marksmen'; our faces were covered with transparent plastic masks, but the rest of our naked bodies were totally exposed to their aim. I found myself tensing as my Mistress raised her pistol for her first shot; there was a soft 'pop' as it jerked in her hand, and I felt a sharp (but by no means painful) sting somewhere on my chest, followed by four more scattered over my torso.

When all the 'marksmen' had completed a group of five shots, a slave crew-member came to each 'target' in turn and held a sheet of transparent plastic against our naked bodies. It had circles marked on it, like an ordinary target, which were used to determine the score by the spots of coloured dye carried in the tips of the pellets. The circles showed how close each shot had come to one of four 'bulls-eyes' -- not surprisingly, these were (in order of increasing value!) our navels, both our nipples and our cock and balls or (for female slaves) their pussies!

Due to the low power of the air-pistols (deliberately so, in order not to inflict real injury), they weren't particularly accurate. There was a lot of good-natured banter between the 'marksmen' and the onlookers when shots missed their naked 'targets' completely, or when a shot scored on a 'bulls-eye' other than the one aimed at; such scores were deducted from the shooter's total. In spite of this inaccuracy, my Mistress did manage to score one shot exactly on one of my nipples and another right on the tip of my cock ... and I discovered that what was only a sharp sting on my chest or belly, was a good deal more uncomfortable on more sensitive parts of my naked anatomy!

Afterwards, my Mistress chatted with three other 'marksmen' over a cup of coffee. They were all Mistresses with their own slaves, two of them males like me and the other a female. I recognised one of the men, having met him during the first days of the cruise; and the slave-girl's face seemed somehow familiar although I was sure she hadn't been there then.

Naturally, since we were merely slaves, I couldn't simply ask her where I'd seen her before ... not without risking my Mistress' displeasure and probably some punishment! (I had to content myself with smiling at her and admiring her well-tanned and well-shaped, if slightly plump, naked body and attractive face!) But an opportunity arose almost as soon as the Mistresses had settled down in four comfortable deck-chairs.

I discovered that, although the crew slaves provided the amenities like bar service, it was still the duty of us 'passenger' slaves to actually wait on our owners. In fact, it turned out that I and the slave-girl (her name was Lindy) had to wait on all four Mistresses, because the other two male slaves were wearing shackles that kept their hands securely behind their backs.

While we were fetching the coffee and cakes, I asked Lindy about her stay on the island; and we soon realised that it was she who had 'scrubbed me down' in the prison yard ... was it only yesterday morning?! My cock stood up at the memory of her hands soaping me all over -- as well as at other memories of the prison, some painful, some very pleasant.

Lindy noticed and smiled at me. "I hope that means you enjoyed it," she said. "I enjoyed doing that to lots of slaves like you -- and to a few girls as well! I'll tell you all about it if we get a chance, but now we better be good slaves and shut up," she finished as we got back to our Mistresses.

"So what were you two nattering about?" Lindy's Mistress asked her as she poured the coffee. Lindy told her and she replied, "Why don't you tell him the whole story? I'm sure Mistress Tina would enjoy it too."

Lindy obeyed cheerfully. "You see, Peter, I spent a whole week of our visit in that prison, and my Mistress specifically asked for me to be given that chore as often as possible, because I'd been quite reluctant to touch other slaves, especially males. Now I'm completely cured of that!" she grinned.

"Tell them why you were in prison," prompted her Mistress.

"For deliberate and persistent impertinence, ma'am," said Lindy humbly. But then she grinned up at her Mistress and went on: "It was deliberate; I wanted to find out what it was like in there, but I didn't want my Mistress to have me put in just to humour me. So I misbehaved until she'd had enough and 'accused' me at the public punishments."

She went on to describe vividly her 'prison term': the long hours of 'hard labour' (like soaping naked slave bodies!); the heavy shackles she wore most of the time, particularly at night for sleeping; the frequent, but not unpleasant, fondling that all the 'inmates' had to accept from the 'guards'; the tight bondage that was a big part of every day; and the occasional quite severe punishment given to some 'prisoners' (who all freely admitted they were real masochists and loved it!). As if her story itself wasn't enough to excite me, all four Mistresses took turns in giving us three male slaves a very thorough and intimate fondling!

"Well, so much for your tale of woe, slave-girl," said Lindy's Mistress at last. They smiled at each other in a way that clearly showed how much they both enjoyed this game. "But now, Tina, we'd all like to hear a bit more about your slave's rather unusual experience yesterday!"

By this time my Mistress had a stock reply to this request. Many of the passengers (and most of the crew) that we'd met had said how glad they were that I hadn't decided to opt out because of the 'abduction' and they were all very interested in hearing more about it. After the umpteenth query about it, my Mistress started to tell them that she would discuss it with Master Paul and maybe they could tell the story publicly as part of the cruise entertainment.

She was able to talk to Master Paul at lunch a little later -- we had been allocated to the same table. At least, my Mistress and Master Paul shared a table with several other Masters and Mistresses; Helen and I and the other slaves had to stand or sit or kneel on the floor (depending on the individual owner's mood)! Master Paul was all in favour of telling the 'abduction' story and the officer sharing their table (a Mistress who happened to be involved with entertainment arrangements) promised to fit this in to the programme and advertise it.

After lunch my Mistress and Master Paul found a quiet corner on deck where we could be relatively private and chatted about their respective discussions with Helen and me last night. Helen begged permission to show me how very glad she was that everything was OK between my Mistress and me, and proceeded to press her magnificent naked body against mine, wrapping one arm around my back and the other around my neck, and practically sucked all the breath from my lungs with a long deep kiss. One word from Master Paul and I think she would have seduced me on the spot ... and I wouldn't have resisted!

During the conversation, Master Paul said to my Mistress with a grin, "I gather that slave Peter knows all about your little escapade the night he was with Mistress Anne."

"Yes," replied my Mistress coolly. "So slave Helen even told you that she told him. I think she needs a good scolding -- or worse! May I?" Master Paul nodded with a smile and my Mistress went on, her voice like a whiplash: "Come here, slave-girl! Hands behind your back!" When Helen obeyed, she took hold of one nipple between each thumb and a finger and began to pinch and twist them.

"I don't like my secrets spread around ..." her soft voice was like ice "... especially not by talkative slave-girls! I've a good mind to punish you severely!" Looking directly into Helen's eyes, she continued to squeeze until nervousness and a touch of fear was plain in them ... then suddenly let go, bent down and kissed each nipple, and said to Helen with a big smile, "But I won't! I do understand why you told Peter and I forgive you. I just thought a little scare might stop you doing it again."

"Very neatly done!" applauded Master Paul. "But tell me -- does your slave now show any interest in turning the tables on you for a bit of variety?"

My Mistress was ready for him. "No," she said calmly. "I'm quite sure my slave is a true submissive. But he tells me that you'd be willing to oblige me if I wanted to continue my experiment in that side of things!"

Master Paul was clearly taken aback, but he recovered quickly. "I see! My slave-girl's been spilling my secrets too. Come here, wench!" He subjected Helen's nipples to the same treatment, only considerably harder, saying, "I can also understand why you told slave Peter ... but you should have told me last night that you'd done it." Gasping with the pain in her nipples, Helen said, I'm sorry, Master ... I forgot ... truly I did!"; with a last twist Master Paul released her nipples, kissed them and said gently, "OK, I believe you.

"I wanted to make the suggestion to you myself," he went on quite smoothly to my Mistress, "but the offer still stands. What do you say?"

"The answer is no," replied my Mistress firmly ... but then she hesitated. "Wait a minute -- I've an idea. Have you tried the submissive side yet?" Master Paul shook his head and she continued, "I could offer to bring your experience up to the level of mine, but instead I propose a contest ... with a small advantage my way! ... the loser to be the winner's slave for a few hours. What do you say to that?"

After a little thought Master Paul agreed. They discussed what the contest would be and settled on a game of strip poker, with my Mistress starting with one or two more articles of clothing to bet with. I'd seen my Mistress play poker and I knew she was a very competent player, but Master Paul was obviously quite confident; "When I win," he said smiling, "maybe slave Peter's fears will be fulfilled."

"What do you mean?" asked my Mistress.

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" said Master Paul. "He thought you and I were screwing that night; that was why he started to rebel, he was jealous!"

I looked at Helen and an involuntary cry came to my lips. "Oh Helen -- that was my secret!"

My Mistress came to my rescue. "He did tell me, actually," she said to Master Paul, then went on to Helen: "You've been spilling everyone's secrets, haven't you? To be fair all round, I think you should give slave Peter a go at your nipples, too ... don't you agree, Paul?"

Helen didn't even wait for Master Paul's approval. She turned to me, put her hands behind her back and said softly, "I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't realise it was so important to you. Now give my nipples a good hard pinch!"

But my moment of anger had passed. I just bent down and gave each nipple a gentle but erotic kiss; then I said, "It's OK, beautiful. I guess we slaves just don't get to have secrets, eh?"

My Mistress wasn't quite satisfied, however. "I still think some punishment is appropriate for all this chattering ... I know! We can put something in her mouth to stop her talking, and I have just the thing! Let's go see if there's a bondage room free right now!"

There was. The ship had quite a number of rooms set apart for bondage, from small to quite large and from well-lit cheerful places at deck level to ominous semi-dungeons deep in its holds. Most were in use almost round the clock, we were told, but we did find one that was available for the next hour or so.

On the way there my Mistress whispered her idea to Master Paul and, when we entered the small well-equipped room, it took them only moments to carry it out. Master Paul tied Helen's wrists and elbows tightly behind her back, stretched her ankles apart with a spreader bar and then suspended her upside down from a strong pulley in the ceiling. Meanwhile my Mistress tied me to a triangular frame, placing a knob at its apex right on my anus and strapping both my knees and ankles to the two sides; my feet didn't quite reach the floor, which meant that some of my weight was resting right on that knob!

She didn't tie my hands in any way, but instead passed a rope under my armpits and tied it to a ring in the wall behind me and adjusted its length so that I was neatly balanced on the base of the triangle. Master Paul had by now lifted Helen's inverted body so that her head was at the level of my hips ... and I began to guess what would be blocking her talkative mouth!

Master Paul gave me permission to use my free hands to caress Helen's lovely body, hanging in front of me in all its beauty; but the rope under my armpits and the position of the pulley supporting Helen made it impossible for my mouth to reach her crotch. Feeling her smooth skin under my hands and tracing her generous curves with my fingers was enough to make my cock stand up, and my Mistress helped too by reaching between my legs and stroking it with one hand while fondling my balls with the other. Soon it was fully hard ... and then my Mistress fixed a rod between the top of the triangle and the wall, arching my bdy forward until my hard purple organ was only a few inches from Helen's inverted head.

"OK, slave-boy," she said as she and Master Paul stood aside to watch. "Shut this pretty chatterbox up with your cock! You can control how deep it goes into her mouth and how fast she gets you excited, but we want you to last as long you can without your cock ever leaving her mouth."

It wasn't easy -- but great fun, mind you! -- following those intructions. If I allowed Helen's mouth to cover only the tip of my cock, she used her teeth and tongue to great effect on its sensitive head; if I forced it deep into her throat, my arousal was almost greater. At first she took no notice of my pleas to stop the erotic action of her tongue and teeth, but I managed to 'persuade' her to co-operate by using one hand to pinch her nipples quite hard when I wanted her to stop nibbling!

I don't know how long I lasted -- it couldn't have been more than about twenty minutes -- before I was unable to control myself any longer. My urge was to push Helen's mouth even further on to my cock, but Master Paul gently but firmly pulled her head away, saying, "You can't come in her mouth; upside down, she might choke." My Mistress said, "Use your hands on your cock if you want to, slave" ... allowing me for the first time in ages actually to bring myself off. A moment later my purple cock spurted its fliud over Helen's gorgeous tits as my orgasm swept over me.

Afterwards, when my Mistress had made me milk my cock almost dry, Master Paul made Helen lick it clean and then take its limp form back into her mouth while I obeyed his orders in fingering and caressing her wide-open pussy hanging so conveniently in front of me. She made no attempt to excite me with her teeth or tongue as my fingers traced her pussy-lips, plunged deep into her open cunt and wiggled at her sensitive clit. Under Master Paul's guidance, I kept her highly aroused without letting her come ("She's been a bad girl, and doesn't deserve it," he said!); but this very activity, plus the sensations caused by her moans of pleasure, soon had my cock filling her mouth again.

Our limited time in the room prevented my reaching another climax; when we were untied and followed our owners out, I was frustrated ... but much less so than Helen! She hadn't lost her spirit, however; she smiled at me and said with a twinkle in her lovely eyes, "Was that fun for you? Got any more secrets for me to spill?" And Master Paul, overhearing, slapped her affectionately on the bottom and threatened, "Careful, you cheeky little gossip! Next time we'll tie you so that you can swallow it ... and then make him come once for every word you said that you shouldn't!"

We spent the rest of the afternoon sunbathing, swimming and watching all the other Masters, Mistresses and slaves 'at play'. I was fascinated by the many shapely naked slave-girls and -- perhaps even more so! -- by what was happening to them, and to the male slaves as well. My cock was in an almost constant erection ... not at all helped by my Mistress' frequent and casual caresses. Helen was clearly affected in a similar way; but her excitement wasn't as obvious as mine. The rule (for us both) against touching ourselves was in force again; I managed with difficulty obey it, but Helen succumbed to temptation once and then had her hands cuffed behind her back!

We also joined in some of the games. At one point Master Paul, who fancied himself as something of a marksman, took part in a variation on the pistol-shooting that my Mistress and I had played at earlier. This version was a good deal more difficult for the 'marksmen', because the 'targets' were moving while they were being shot at; and it was considerably less comfortable for the naked slaves who were the 'targets', because they were suspended from a gantry over the stern of the ship!

Helen was clearly not very keen on this idea when Master Paul expressed his interest, and he made it quite clear that he wouldn't force her to submit to it. But, after a short hesitation, she gave him a smile that showed some nervousness mixed with a lot of trust and said, "Yes Master, I want to please you; I'm sure it's really quite safe." My Mistress and I watched in admiration as she allowed her ankles to be securely strapped into thickly padded cuffs; then she and the other 'target' slaves were lifted upside-down into the air and swung a few yards beyond the rails that prevented passengers falling over the stern.

Their arms were not bound in any way; this was to give them a better chance of swimming in the unlikely event of their bonds failing and dropping them into the sea, we were told by the officer organising this game. He also told us that there had never been a breakage in the gantry gear but (to make doubly certain) a team of the best swimmers amongst the slave crew was on alert on a deck below with lifebelts and an inflated lifeboat ready for instant launching.

The naked bodies of the slave 'targets' swung gently back and forth with the motion of the ship, and even spun around occasionally giving the 'marksmen' a look at their backs and bottoms as well. Since hitting a target at all was so much more difficult, and it was impossible for the 'circles' to be held against them, each 'marksman' was simply allowed fifty shots at his or her 'target'. Of these, most missed completely and very few hit any nipples or cocks or pussies.

When Helen was returned to the deck and released, Master Paul inspected her naked body carefully for the tell-tale spots left by his pellets. To his disappointment he found only five; to make things worse, seven of his shots were found to have hit other targets, which meant that he had a minus score! But he took it all in good part, grinned at the teasing of the onlookers and concentrated on giving Helen a big hug and a long lingering kiss to thank her for her co-operation.

Most of the games were designed to accommodate both male and female slaves, but a few were more suitable for one sex than the other. One of these was the common ship-board game of deck quoits ... and I hardly need to spell out which sex played the main rôle, or why!! So it was almost inevitable that I would spend some time arched face up over a low bench with my cock tied to a rod protruding between my legs.

While Master Paul and Helen watched, my Mistress tossed a few quoits at my upstanding prick; then she stopped and said to Master Paul, "Why don't we give the quoits to your slave-girl? We could tell her how many we expect her to score, with a small penalty if she scores fewer." Master Paul agreed readily, and my Mistress handed the quoits to Helen; after some discussion, Helen was told that she should aim to get two out of three shots over my prick.

Tied as I was, I couldn't see Helen's throws; I could only feel them as the quoits hit me. The tension of wondering when and where the next one would land was quite exciting, and my cock stood up stiff beside its support, to the delight of the onlookers. And that tension wasn't just academic because, when a quoit was thrown correctly and accurately, it tended to hit me first on or near my balls ... which was distinctly uncomfortable although not really painful, thanks to its relatively light weight.

Unfortunately for her, Helen didn't achieve the success rate asked of her, and at last she had to pay the penalty. I didn't mind this bit at all, though, because she had to lie face down on top of me for it! Her gorgeous tits pressed into my chest, and I could feel her thighs clutching my cock, still tied to the rod. Master Paul applied eight or nine strokes across her upturned bum-cheeks, but I suspect without much strength, because Helen had a smile of sheer enjoyment on her lovely face as she stood up and waited while I was released. To our owners' question, we both agreed willingly to do this again sometime.

During the afternoon we also spent time discussing how we would present the story of our 'abduction and auction' adventure. It had been fitted into that evening's entertainment programme and, judging by the number of Masters and Mistresses who said they were looking forward to it, it would be well attended. We did want to give them their "money's worth," so we planned in detail who'd tell which parts of the story and how we'd try to give it visual impact as well. We even went into an unused room and rehearsed briefly.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 11: Appetiser, Dinner and Show.

Late in the afternoon we were sought out by the Captain, who said to my Mistress, "Would it be convenient for me to borrow your slave now, as we agreed last night? I've just come off duty from the bridge, we have over an hour before dinner and I have something I'd like him to do for me."

My Mistress smilingly agreed -- after ensuring that I was willing -- and he produced from his pocket a pair of handcuffs. "May I?" he asked; at her nod he fitted them to my wrists behind my back and gave her the key, saying, "I'll return him to you at dinner -- this evening I've requested your company at my table. Now come along, slave."

From another pocket he took out a chain leash and two spring-loaded clamps, which he clipped to my nipples, and led me away. On the way to his cabin he told me that last night, after I'd asked him to 'referee' a discussion with my Mistress, he'd 'lent' his favourite slave to another officer for the night. "And when you decided you didn't need me after all," he continued, "I couldn't very well just ask him to return her.

"But I didn't feel like spending the night with a slave from the free pool. So this morning I was feeling a bit frustrated and I took it out on her; it's her day off today, but I don't think she's enjoyed it a great deal!" We'd reached his cabin; he opened the door and led me inside, saying, "Slave Peter, meet slave Nicole!"

I remembered the name Nicole from the first days of the cruise, and the girl it belonged to. She would have been hard to forget -- a tall slim young woman with an exquisitely beautiful face and light auburn hair that fell down her back almost to her knees. She'd always had a lovely smile for everyone in her very public job as receptionist in the Purser's office.

Her face was still recognizable but otherwise I'd hardly have known her now. She was spreadeagled stark naked on the bed, her lovely tanned body contrasting the white of the sheet, and her hair seemed to cover half the bed as it lay in disarray around her.

"Hello slave-girl," the Captain greeted her. "Been having fun?"

"Not much, Captain, sir," she replied, but her smile was still bright. "I've only come once, and that damn vibrator seems to know just how to tantalise me!"

"You see," the Captain explained to me, "slave Nicole has been here since I left this morning for my watch on the bridge and to keep her amused I left this ..." he reached down and drew a large vibrator out of her pussy "... connected to a random time-switch. So she's tired and stiff and frustrated ... like I was last night. And since you caused it, you have a little debt to both of us, don't you?"

As he spoke, he was untying Nicole and helping her to sit up and then stand, supporting her until some of her stiffness was eased. "I'm going to have a quick shower and dress for dinner," he told her. "You may amuse yourself with slave Peter here but I don't want you putting his tongue to work until I come back. And perhaps you should start brushing out your hair, too."

I'd be happy to let the lovely Nicole 'amuse herself' with me any day, let me tell you! First she ran her hands quickly over my naked body, then she made me lie on the bed, face up and resting on my handcuffed arms, while she leaned over me and began brushing that incredibly long hair. It trailed all over me and its touch was so erotic that my cock was soon rock-hard; occasionally her hands strayed down to fondle it, and she was obviously getting quite excited.

The Captain returned soon and said to Nicole, "OK, give me the brush. Now ... I borrowed slave Peter to give you some compensation for your discomfort and frustration today, so I want you to use him ... and that's an order!"

"Yessir, Captain," replied Nicole briskly but with a wide smile. She climbed up on the bed, straddled my naked torso with her long smooth thighs, and looked down at me with one of her lovely smiles. "This will be fun, won't it, Peter?" she said ... and thrust her pussy against my mouth.

It was fun too -- for me because I do enjoy using my tongue and mouth on a woman's cunt and clit, especially while helplessly bound -- and even more for her because her day's bondage, with the vibrator turning on and off in her cunt, must have aroused her to a level where she could come almost at will! She came at least a dozen times, raising her pussy from my mouth now and then for a short break but almost immediately pushing it back down with little cries of ecstasy. I was vaguely aware of the Captain moving around us, watching, caressing Nicole's lovely body, brushing out her long long hair ... sometimes even fondling my cock to keep up its erection; but mainly I concentrated on the job my tongue was expected to do.

When he decided it was time to stop, the Captain had to physically lift Nicole from my mouth and hold her tight while her current orgasm subsided. "We'll be late for dinner," he told her gently. "You go sponge yourself down --we'll leave your hair free tonight -- while I do a few things with slave Peter. I have an idea for a dramatic entrance tonight."

"Ooh lovely, sir!" said Nicole, her eyes sparkling, and went into the bathroom.

"You did a good job of curing her frustrations, slave," the Captain said to me as he fastened cuffs and a short chain to my ankles. "As for my frustrations ... well, we're running late for dinner so I'll pass up what I had in mind; in any case, when slave Nicole is in the sexy mood you've helped to put her in, she'll fix my frustrations extremely well ... later!"

He continued talking as he tied a strong cord very tightly around the base of my still hard cock, then added several equally tight loops along its shaft. "What I'm doing now is preparing you for a 'Captains's entrance'. I've established a little personal tradition, that it's a Captain's privilege to arrive late for dinner occasionally; and I try on these occasions to add a touch of the theatrical or comic to the shackles of the slaves I bring with me!

"The regulars will have noticed already that I'm late, and they'll be wondering whether I have something new for tonight ... and I have! The crew slaves who are there will be disappointed that they aren't making an entrance with me, because it's become quite a status symbol among them. And it won't surprise you to know that slave Nicole features quite regularly -- she's lovely, isn't she? ... There, that's you ready!" he concluded, strapping into my mouth a large gag with an enormous imitation cock protruding from it.

Just then Nicole emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh and even lovelier, and asked, "How do you want me, Captain, sir?" It took the Captain only moments to fit her wrists with cuffs joined by a six-inch bar and to pass a cord from that bar between her legs to the end of the cord on my cock. He fitted nipple-rings on Nicole -- I only noticed then that the nipples of her small but beautifully shaped tits were pierced -- and a leash and led us off to the dining room.

As we walked along I thought, "This set-up is certainly unusual, but I don't see the point of this 'cock' sticking out of my mouth; it just makes me feel ridiculous." But, just before we actually entered the dining room, the Captain made an adjustment: he made me kneel and tied a cord between my handcuffs and my ankle chain so that I had to stay on my knees. He opened the door and walked through slowly and Nicole followed, obeying the tug of the leash on her nipples. I in turn obeyed the insistent pull of the cord on my cock ... and then I understood -- the large 'cock' protruded from my mouth at just the level of Nicole's provocatively swaying hips!

Helen told me later, giggling, (she was watching from the main floor of the room) that I looked as if I was trying desperately to push the 'cock' between Nicole's legs. That particular thought wasn't in my mind at that moment -- although I have to admit that I'd like to push almost anything between Nicole's legs at any time! But I was acutely conscious that, with every awkward step my knees took, the 'cock' made contact with Nicole's buttocks or thighs through the luxurious curtain of her hair!

The Captain led us right across the front of the platform on which 'his' table stood, then back to the centre. The first diners to notice us began to applaud and soon everyone was clapping ... none louder than my Mistress who was sitting in the obviously coveted place beside the Captain's empty chair. Raising his hands to quieten them, the Captain said, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen ... and slaves. Thank you for your appreciation of our little procession. Slave Nicole you all know and is as beautiful as ever; and this is slave Peter, whom I now return to his Mistress with thanks for the short loan. Mistress Tina, slave Nicole would also like to thank you."

I swear that he hadn't 'coached' Nicole, but with hardly any hesitation she said clearly, "Thank you, Mistress Tina, for the use of your slave's tongue. As I'm sure you know, it's very talented ... much better than the thing he's been trying to push into me for the last few minutes!" The room erupted with laughter, and I think I turned the colour of beetroot down to the soles of my feet!

Before taking his seat, the Captain made some further adjustments; passing the leash from Nicole's nipples over her shoulders, he attached it to the cord from her wrists (after untying it from my cock). He told her that she was to keep a little tension on her nipples all the time ... which of course meant that the cord between her legs would also be pressing on her clit and crotch!

Finally, he removed the gag and its protrusion from my mouth, then handed the keys of my handcuffs to my Mistress, saying, "The keys, as I promised; but would you humour me and not remove them yet ..." Leaning across the table, he whispered something to her ... and I guessed from her delighted assent that another surprise was in store for me.

What was in store was dinner! Or, rather, the manner of eating it! My Mistress and the Captain fed Nicole by placing food in a bowl on the table; with her hands fastened as they were, she had to bend down and eat directly from the bowl. And she had to feed me too -- by picking up morsels of food and putting them right in my mouth! With the cord between her legs holding her hands just above her crotch, I virtually had to eat my dinner out of her fragrant pussy!

It was by far the most unusual meal I've ever eaten ... and the most humiliating! But the humiliation itself excited my very submissive nature and my cock in its tight cords stayed hard throughout. Nicole found it exciting too, I could tell -- not only by her sparkling eyes and rapid breathing, but also by the strength of the fragrance from her pussy that I inhaled with every mouthful! The other diners, of course, loved it! And during the dessert of delicious fresh fruit the Captain arranged something extra ... extra fascinating for them, extra humiliating for us.

Clearing a space on the table, he had Nicole and me lifted up so that we could be seen even better. Adjusting the cord through Nicole's crotch so that it passed alongside her cunt lips rather than between them, he asked my Mistress to peel a large banana and hold it vertically on the table between Nicole's legs ... and ordered Nicole to lower herself towards it!

She showed remarkable suppleness as she spread her knees wider and wider and bent them lower and lower -- to a steadily increasing slow handclap -- until the lips of her cunt touched the tip of the banana. Spreading her already opened lips with his fingers, the Captain made her lower still further until all but an inch or so of the banana was inside her.

"Good," he said. "Now stand up and feed slave Peter his dessert... and do it slowly, please!" I had to eat the banana directly out of Nicole's cunt! I couldn't even get enough grip on the little that protruded to pull it out, so I had to wait for Nicole to use her vaginal muscles to push it out... very slowly, in obedience to the Captain's order. And to the enormous delight of the watching diners, she climaxed as (my nose pressing on her clit) I drew the last of the banana out.

After dinner the Captain said to my Mistress, "Your presentation on your slave's abduction will be on a little later, isn't that right? Could you please reserve a place for me and my slave? I don't want to miss it, but just at the moment you must excuse me -- slave Nicole and I have a little appointment!" He took the leash connected to Nicole's nipple rings and led her away; and I had the distinct feeling that she could hardly wait for whatever he had in mind!

My Mistress unlocked my handcuffs (at last!) and removed the tight cords from my cock. As all the passengers made their way to the various activities they'd chosen for the evening, we met up with Master Paul and Helen and decided to have a last rehearsal for our 'presentation'. As it happened, the room we were to use was unoccupied, so we were able to ensure that we had all the right props and other things.

Our audience started to arrive about 15 minutes before we were due to start, and among the first were the Captain and slave Nicole, both looking very relaxed. They joined us at the front of the room; my Mistress and Master Paul chatted with the Captain, and Nicole was allowed to talk to Helen and me. I commented on her look of contentment and asked if she might tell us the reason.

She blushed a little but smiled prettily and said, "Well, your performance before dinner with your tongue, Peter, plus the fun during dinner, really had my Captain excited. He took me to the officers' bondage room and tied me in what we call the 'hammock'; ships always have hammocks, you know! I was suspended horizontally with my legs spread so far apart I thought I was about to split. Then he undressed -- he has a really handsome body, and such a lovely big cock!

"First he stood by my head," she continued, "and made me suck him while he played with my tits and belly and pussy. He loves draping my hair and trailing its ends over me -- like I did with you, Peter -- and I love it too! Then he moved down between my legs and gave me a right royal fucking!

"When he's in this mood, he likes to thrust so hard that I actually bounce off him when his cock 'hits bottom' (as he calls it)! Sometimes he lets me swing right off on one thrust, then times the next one to meet me swinging back, and it feels as if his cock is coming out of the top of my head. Or else he holds me tight (by my tits or even using my hair) while he drills me like a jack-hammer! And when he comes ... he's so big and long, I could swear I can taste his juice at the back of my throat!

"I love it!" she confided with an almost conspiratorial grin. "I always had a fantasy about being brutally raped while helpless to resist -- it's the main reason I became a slave -- and now I have that fantasy fulfilled regularly ... and I know he's not really going to hurt me! I must admit, though," she confessed a little wryly, "I'm a bit sore right now ... and I've a strong suspicion that tonight or tomorrow morning he'll make me braid my hair!"

Helen and I had no opportunity to learn what she meant by this last remark, because just then my Mistress and Master Paul came to take us 'back-stage' and the Captain to take Nicole to their places. They noticed our expressions of excited interest and our rapid breathing; my Mistress and Master Paul looked at Helen and me quizzically, but the Captain only said drily, "I suspect my slave's been regaling them with all the details of what we've been doing since dinner. With gossips for slaves, there's no privacy on this ship ... not even for the Captain!" Nicole blushed but grinned at him cheekily; my Mistress and Master Paul laughed delightedly and agreed that they knew exactly what he meant!

The room was not a very large one and it was filled to overflowing with Masters and Mistresses and their slaves, off-duty officers and their slave crew members. Our 'show' was briefly introduced by the lady officer who had fitted it into the schedule; she mentioned that many of the audience had been present at our 'welcome aboard' the previous evening, and that the rest had obviously heard about the 'abduction' and wanted to hear more. Then she introduced us with "... Mistress Tina and slave Peter!"

My Mistress led me into the spotlight with a firm grip on my cock. My wrists were loosely fastened behind my back and she made me kneel in front of her facing the audience as she told of our arrival on the island and of her (genuine!) surprise at the amount needed for my bond. "I didn't have that sort of money with me," she said, "but fortunately I knew Mistress Anne. In fact, it was through correspondence with her that I heard of this cruise. And she was happy to lend me the bond."

She went on to tell how she'd suddenly had the idea for my 'abduction' ... when Mistress Anne had told of the prices slaves could fetch on the black market. Mistress Anne liked the idea (on condition that her trial of me would confirm that I would attract genuine offers) and she played a big part in obtaining the Slave Squad's co-operation. So my Mistress' plans were laid; "... but then," she concluded, "we met up with Master Paul and slave Helen!"

Master Paul led Helen on stage and made her kneel beside me, then took up the story: when my Mistress told him of her plan, after Mistress Anne borrowed me and confirmed that it would proceed, he'd wondered whether Helen could be included. Mistress Anne was able to agree 'sight unseen', because the Slave Squad confirmed Helen's potential value -- "... for obvious reasons!" smiled Master Paul, leaning down and running his hands lovingly over her gorgeous tits. And things were made even easier for us -- it was obvious our slaves were rather fond of each other!" On cue, Helen and I looked at each other and smiled ... and (not in our 'script'!) we both blushed like shy teenageers!

"The final details," Master Paul went on, "were completed during the evening and night these two spent in a slave prison cell. Next morning we collected them and went for a walk, promising them all sorts of exciting events. Little did they know! And they made things very easy for the abductors ..." As he spoke, Helen and I stood up and the four of us moved to one side of the stage, where Helen and I re-enacted our kiss, naked bodies pressed firmly together. "... and outside one shop," finished Master Paul, "they disappeared!"

From this point on, our little drama attempted to re-enact the events as well as narrating them. My Mistress and Master Paul threw a light cloth over Helen and me and half-carried us to the other side of the stage; Helen screamed (softly!) and I told how we'd been scared but not terrified because we suspected another 'game'. I described our arrival at Mistress Anne's, then Helen took up the story, describing our 'interview' and (in some detail) her 'inspection' by Mistress Anne -- my Mistress acting the part of Mistress Anne and running her hands appropriately over Helen's naked body.

Helen and I moved back into the shadows as my Mistress related her and Master Paul's talk with Mistress Anne. She commented on Mistress Anne's superb acting: "I was glad I had my back to the slaves," she admitted, "because I'm sure my face would have given the game away!" And as she and Master Paul moved aside again, I chimed in with "Helen and I had to admire Mistress Anne's acting too; she certainly convinced us that we would really be sold, and that my Mistress and Master Paul knew nothing about it!

"We spent the time before the auction," I continued, "talking about various things, but mostly we were wondering what our new permanent Master or Mistress (or both!) would be like. We discussed whether we could do anything to attract the sort of buyer we'd like, and we decided it would be best to behave as humbly and obediently as possible." To my surprise (and pleasure, I must admit!) this brought a smattering of applause and approving murmurs from the audience.

I went on to describe the auction itself. My Mistress and Master Paul arranged us in the same position, our arms high above our heads and our legs spread wide, then 'inspected' us like the buyers I was describing. I told the audience about the two slave 'proxies' who also inspected us, about Mistress Anne's introductory remarks and about her reactions to the early bidding. "Then suddenly one of the proxies bid ...," I said and paused, trying to be dramatic.

"Four thousand!" came a voice from the audience! I hesitated, and looked at my Mistress for guidance. She was obviously as surprised as I was, but she recovered quickly and glanced at me with her finger on her lips ... because from the audience a naked man stepped forward, whom I recognized instantly as the slave 'proxy' who had 'bought' us at the auction!

Unlike yesterday, he was well and truly shackled with his arms behind his back and a short chain hobbling his ankles. He stood to one side of our little tableau and said, "If you'll permit me, Mistress Tina and Master Paul, I'll tell my side of the auction." Receiving a nod from them, he went on, "Masters and Mistresses and slaves, my Mistress volunteered me to bid on behalf of some mysterious Master and Mistress, and I really did enjoy it. Unlike the other buyers, I had no limit to worry about, so I was able to tease them a little.

"My $4,000 bid livened things up a bit," he grinned. "But by the time the bidding reached $8,000 there were only three of us left, and at $10,000 only two. I (and Mistress Anne, of course!) tried to coax the other up to $12,000 and beyond, but he eventually conceded at $11,850. Not a bad price for a pair of newcomers, eh?" He briefly described his conversation with Mistress Anne after the auction and closed with "Thank you, Mistress Tina and Master Paul, for allowing me to contribute to your little drama. If I may, I'll just wait in the wings while the main characters continue."

Master Paul nodded to Helen to take up the story. While she told the audience of our return to the cell and our conversations there, my Mistress and Master Paul released us from the 'auction' pose and fitted us with chains exactly as had happened yesterday. Then they popped balls in our mouths and loose hoods over our heads as Master Paul described our trip by van and boat to our (as he put it) "... mysterious new owners!"

"They looked wonderful," he said, "tied to the mast of the police launch, their hair flying in the wind as we sped across the water! We -- and the whole crew -- couldn't resist giving their naked bodies a good feel!" ... and he and my Mistress suited their actions to his words! "It was a pity they couldn't see themselves," he continued, "but they can tell you how they felt ... slave Helen!" and he plucked the ball from Helen's mouth.

"It was very strange," she said almost musingly, "to be blind, deaf and dumb and helplessy shackled on a boat obviously travelling very fast. I was a bit frightened, too, but I think the hands fondling my body took away some of the fear. After all, that was something quite familiar by now!" she joked, and was rewarded by a peal of laughter from the audience. "Of course," she continued after a pause, "I had no idea at all that Mistress Tina and Master Paul were on board and joining in the fondling!"

"You weren't supposed to, silly!" remarked Master Paul as he re-inserted the ball. "That would have spoilt the suspense, wouldn't it? And so to the climax (excuse my choice of word!) of our little drama -- our poor captives arrived at their destination, not for a moment guessing that it was the ship they'd left a few days ago. Many of you were here to watch, but for those who weren't: they were brought into the ballroom and arranged for 'inspection' by their mysterious new owners..."

He and my Mistress 'arranged' Helen and me, stretching us in a tight spread-eagle like last evening, and re-enacted our 'inspection' in some detail! Inevitably, my cock reacted just as it had then, not only from the exciting touch of my Mistress' hands but also from the memories of how I'd felt at the time. As if he was reading my mind, Master Paul took the ball from my mouth and said, "Tell the people how you were feeling, slave Peter!"

This was un-rehearsed, but I thought quickly. "Excited as hell!" I said. "I can't see my cock, but it feels as if it's showing just that. At the same time, I was still wondering what our new owners would be like and how they would treat us ... but I also knew that any Mistress who could 'inspect' a new slave with such erotic caresses couldn't be all bad!"

A moment later the coverings over Helen's and my heads were removed as Master Paul described "... the moment when the slaves first saw their new owners and (surprise! surprise!) they were none other than their old owners. I'm sure you'd all love to know what they thought at that moment -- you first, slave Helen." Again he removed the ball from Helen's mouth.

"Relief!" said Helen fervently. "Just plain, simple, incredible relief! And joy at seeing my Master Paul again, and knowing that things would be just like before. I didn't really understand what had happened - I think I thought he'd rescued me from permanent slavery and I was almost overcome with love for him." And there were real tears in her eyes as she smiled at Master Paul.

"And you, slave Peter?" asked my Mistress. "Tell the people how you felt."

"At first, I must admit, I was very very angry," I said quietly. "But to my amazement this lasted only a moment and then, like slave Helen, I felt relief and happiness to be back with my adored Mistress. And later, when she explained how carefully they'd planned and carried out this joke on us, I wondered how I could ever have been so angry."

"As I'm sure is obvious to you all," continued my Mistress, "both slave Helen and slave Peter have forgiven us for our elaborate practical joke and are still willing to be our slaves. And I, for one, can't tell you how happy that makes me!" She turned to face me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me slowly and very thoroughly ... to a burst of applause and cries of "Hear! Hear!" and "Good for you, slave Peter!"

Afterwards, she and Master Paul announced "... the end of our little story. Thank you for your interest and attention. Also, we want to thank Mistress Erica for lending us her slave, who so cleverly outbid the other buyers without them ever suspecting they were being conned. Mistress Erica!"

The lady who stepped from the audience was petite, if not downright tiny! She had a fragile, china-doll look about her and I found it impossible to imagine her as a Mistress. And her soft musical voice only reinforced this impression when she spoke: "It was a pleasure, Mistress Tina and Master Paul! And my slave did do rather well, didn't he?" The audience gave us all a warm ovation and the 'show' was over.

My Mistress and Master Paul made as if to untie Helen and me, but Mistress Erica stopped them. "It occurs to me," she said, "that my slave and I have a small apology to make to slave Helen and slave Peter, for being a party to this clever practical joke. And with them tied the way they are, I know just how we can apologize ... with your permission, of course?"

My Mistress and Master Paul nodded smilingly. Hardly raising her voice, Mistress Erica said sharply, "Slave! Here!" ... and suddenly I didn't need to imagine her as a Mistress; she was one! The steel in her soft voice was enough to make me jump even in my tight bonds, and her slave instantly came and knelt where her finger was pointing ... right in front of Helen!

"Suck pussy!" was her next quiet order, and her slave obeyed; he buried his mouth in Helen's blond thatch, opened so invitingly by her wide-spread legs, and quite soon she was murmuring in pleasure. Meanwhile Mistress Erica turned to me, took my cock in both her hands and began to stroke it with great skill.

A few minutes later my eyes were closed as the touch of her hands on my rigid organ brought me towards a climax ... when suddenly my Mistress whispered in my ear, "If you don't want to come in front of an audience, slave, just say so and I'll ask Mistress Erica to stop." I opened my eyes and saw that a large number of the Masters and Mistresses had remained, with their slaves, to watch this 'encore'!

But there was no way I wanted Mistress Erica to stop! I didn't care if everybody saw me! Everything had been so much fun since I'd been re-united with my Mistress that I was willing to let her do anything with me; I smiled at her but, with my arousal approaching the 'point of no return," I could only say, "No, don't stop, please Mistress Erica ... oh, that feels so good!"

A few seconds later I abandoned myself to the ecstasy of my orgasm. As I arched my naked body and instinctively thrust my hips forward and my purple cock spurted its hot liquid, a part of me was ashamed at the spectacle I must have made in full view of several dozen people ... but it was a small part only! I was much more conscious of the pleasure concentrated in my jerking prick, a pleasure enormously intensified by the tightness of my bonds and the wonderful feeling of helplessness they gave!

Mistress Erica was milking the last drops from my cock, now as limp as I felt myself, when Helen threw her head back and screamed softly. Her lovely naked body writhed in her spreadeagled bonds as her climax reached its crest ... and the audience clapped softly (I would have too, if I could!). Mistress Erica and her slave moved away from Helen and me and watched as we both caught our breath and 'came down to earth'.

"Consider yourselves apologized to!" smiled Mistress Erica. On our owners' instructions, Helen and I thanked her and her slave and she replied, "We enjoyed it to, didn't we, slave?"

She paused, clearly considering a new thought. "On the other hand," she continued, "perhaps you owe us a small debt of gratitude, too -- without us, you might now be permanent, full-time slaves! With your owners' permission, I'd like to have you to myself for a few hours sometime before this cruise ends, and I'm sure we could find a way for you to show your gratitude!"

Looking into her smiling eyes, I was sure we could, too! My Mistress and Master Paul agreed readily and, when we were asked, both Helen and I said, "Yes please, Mistress Erica, and we'll try very hard to show how grateful we are!"

Later that night in our cabin, my Mistress said, "Well, you're a bit of an exhibitionist, aren't you? I think you quite enjoyed your first 'public' orgasm. Now, does your willingness tonight mean that I can make you come in front of an audience whenever I want, or do you expect me to ask you beforehand every time?"

I thought about that for a minute, then tried to describe to her what I'd felt at the time. "... and the humiliation made the pleasure even more intense," I finished, "or maybe it was the other way round! Anyway, Mistress, you can do that to me any time in front of that sort of audience. I promise I won't object at all!"

"I'm very glad you feel that way," she said with a warm smile. "Because," she went on, her smile suddenly fading, "I had already taken your 'agreement' this evening to apply to all future occasions. If you'd answered differently just now, you would have had a very big argument on your hands! What's more, if you had managed to persuade me to change my mind -- which I doubt very much! -- I would have insisted on a pretty severe penalty every single time. Not for actually coming in public, mind you, but simply because you expect to be asked for your agreement... when it should be my decision, and mine alone.

"And one more thing," she was still serious. "Your agreement to climaxing in public will also apply, from now on, to screwing in public. No, not a word, slave!" she added sharply, as my mouth opened almost involuntarily. "I'm making a statement, not asking a question. After all, I don't see any big difference between -- in front of an audience or not -- your cock spurting its juice over the floor, or deep inside the pussy of a naked slave-girl. Not inside my pussy or any other Mistress' pussy, of course: naturally, no Mistress would allow herself to be humiliated so deeply... that's just for slaves."

Now her tone became even firmer, and there was a steely glint in her eyes. "What I'm saying, if I haven't made myself perfectly clear yet, is this: on the strength of your agreement earlier this evening, plus your enthusiastic (shall we say?) invitation a minute ago, for me 'to do that to you any time in front of an audience' -- those were your words, I think -- I'm now taking the right, as your Mistress, to order you or force you -- in tight bondage, if necessary -- to actually have sexual intercourse with any slave-girl I might choose... publicly, in front of any audience I might choose. Now, slave, is that quite clear? And remember, I'm not asking for your agreement; I only want to know if you understand the way one small part of your slavery is going to be from now on. Yes, or no?"

I could tell from her tone and look that there was no way I could change her mind. If I really objected, I would have no choice but to say the words that would end our Mistress/slave relationship... permanently. And if I didn't want that, then there was only one answer I could give -- after all, she had made herself quite clear, hadn't she? In actual fact, it took me no time at all to reply.

"Yes, Mistress Tina," I said humbly, "I do understand. Thank you for making it so clear." Then, almost without thinking, I found myself blurting, "And now, Mistress, you can see I'm excited again ..." (my cock was rock hard!) "... may I please come again -- just privately, between you and me?"

"What? Three times in one day?" exclaimed my Mistress with a broad grin. "Are you sure you can stand it -- after your days of abstinence?" But soon she had me kneeling over her lovely naked body and she was using her clever hands (mine had been tightly tied behind my back for some time!) quite roughly, but very erotically, on my swollen member.

My inevitable climax led inevitably to our little ritual of me licking my semen from her body, and from there to her equally inevitable climax ... or rather, climaxes! ... following the eager attentions of my tongue and lips.

It was quite late when she settled me down for the night, tied not too uncomfortably on my pallet, and turned out the light. I remember thinking (just before sleep quickly overtook me): "Tonight, of all nights, there's no need for my hands to be tied away from my cock. After three climaxes today, I don't think I could bring myself off if I wanted to!"

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 12: A Public Competition.

I still felt tired -- but very contented! -- when my Mistress woke me early the next morning. We showered and I helped her dress, then we met Master Paul and Helen for breakfast, which was presented in 'serve-yourself' style.

Here, of course, 'serve-yourself' meant 'slaves-serve-your-Masters-and-Mistresses'! Helen and I were doing our duty for my Mistress and Master Paul when one of the officers approached them at their table.

"I'm in charge of organizing the traditional slaves' boat race this morning," he told them. "And because your slaves are newcomers on this cruise, you have first refusal on places for them in the crews. Do you wish to take up the offer?"

My Mistress and Master Paul looked at each other in obvious surprise, and my Mistress replied, "I've heard a little about this boat race, but would you please tell us some more?"

"We like to keep the experience as a pleasant surprise for slaves new to it," responded the officer smoothly. "If you would send your slaves out of earshot, I'll be happy to give you all the details."

So Helen and I spent the next fifteen minutes or so at the other side of the room, watching the officer's back and our owners' faces. We wondered aloud to each other what this 'boat race' might mean, as we saw my Mistress' and Master Paul's fascinated interest in the officer's story and, finally, their smiles and nods. The officer left and they beckoned us back to continue our breakfast; and during the rest of the meal they repeatedly glanced at each other and broke into peals of suppressed laughter.

Helen and I had already guessed it would be futile to ask them to tell us anything at all; we simply had to contain our curiosity while we finished breakfast and then took a leisurely walk around the decks. In fact, I was getting quite tense with excitement, wondering what the 'boat race' was and when it would happen ... and it was quite a relief when we passed the Purser's office and my Mistress suggested that we go in and "... see how my slave's little slave-girl friend is this morning."

Nicole was there, of course, and she greeted us with a bright smile. As she was a slave crew member, it wasn't surprising to find that she was naked -- but it was immediately apparent that something different had been done with her long long hair. "I thought so last night, didn't I?" she said. "My Master the Captain made me braid it this morning ... see!"

She turned slowly around to display one thick plait hanging down her back to just above her bottom, as well as two more which hung forward on each side of her face; these were merged into one below her lovely firm breasts and hung to just above her pussy. But a closer inspection revealed that 'hung' wasn't quite the right word; in fact both plaits were being pulled downwards by a strong elastic band knotted firmly to their ends and passing between her legs!

Now I understood why she'd been a little nervous at the idea of braiding her hair! The elastic was pulled deep in the cleft between her buttocks and it almost disappeared between the lips of her pussy; and the tension was clearly enough to prevent her moving her head much at all. Yet she showed remarkable cheerfulness as she explained that the Captain like to torment her in this way usually once on every trip.

Her story was suddenly interrupted by the intercom in the Purser's office. "Bridge calling," said a voice. "Captain's orders to slave Nicole: choose a nearby Master -- or Mistress if you like -- and ask him or her politely to pluck your string!"

This message brought a deep blush to Nicole's face and neck. She smiled a little ruefully, took a deep breath and faced Master Paul. "Please sir," she said, "would you like to pluck my string?" At his slightly bemused nod, she spread her legs wide and continued: "There are three little knobs on this elastic, one on front, one behind and one right between my legs." She pointed them out; "Please use one or more of them to stretch the elastic as tight as you wish, then allow it to snap back into place."

She put her hands behind her back and waited, smiling (a little nervously) at Master Paul. The rest of us watched in total fascination as he carefully located two knobs, the one in the middle and the one at the front (the latter seemed to be positioned almost precisely on her clit!). Slowly he pulled on them, stretching the elastic until there was a gap of several inches between it and Nicole's crotch ... held it a moment ... then let go!

The loud SMACK of the elastic snapping against the tender flesh of Nicole's pussy and crotch was followed instantly by her equally loud gasp of pain! But she recovered quickly, smiled at Master Paul and said, "Thank you, sir. Please forgive my squeals -- the first one for the day is always the most painful. I hope my Master the Captain doesn't send too many of those messages today; sometimes it's just once or twice, but other times he seems to call every five minutes!"

"You're a very obedient slave-girl," commented my Mistress warmly. "But tell me: are you ever tempted to pretend you didn't hear the message? There doesn't seem to be any way for the Captain to check on you."

"I did that once or twice a few months ago," replied Nicole. "And I got away with it, too ... until I was found out because I accidentally left another intercom line to the bridge open, and my Master himself heard me muttering that there was no-one else about and I couldn't be bothered looking for a Master to ask. As punishment, I spent the rest of that day on the bridge, tied with my legs spread almost horizontal, and every time the Captain gave any order my elastic was twanged.

"I was very sore after forty or more 'twangs'," she continued ruefully. "So now I don't dare disobey. What's more, my Master now expects me to remember whom I ask each time, and I never know when he might check with any of them to see if I've told the truth!"

Just then the public address system burst into life. "Would the following owners please bring their slaves to the named lifeboat stations for this morning's boat race: Mistress Tina to number 6, Master Paul to number 8, ..." and two or three other names were announced. My Mistress and Master Paul looked at Helen and me with broad grins and said, "OK kids, this is it! You're really going to have some fun!"

"Ooh!" cried Nicole excitedly. "You're in the boat race teams! You lucky things, it's ages since my number came up in the draw for crew members. But my Master and I always have a little bet on the result, and I always back the red boat; which are you on? ... Oh, you don't know yet -- well, anyway, try hard for me if you're on the red one. And maybe my Master will be too busy watching the race to think of sending many messages to me!"

As we left, Master Paul commented, "What a lovely and obedient slave she is! And what a clever way to use that long hair of hers!" He grinned at Helen. Pity your hair isn't as long ... or should we let it grow?" Helen replied quite seriously but with a smile, "I'm glad it isn't, Master!"

My Mistress and Master Paul followed the signs leading to the boat deck and Helen and I obediently followed them, wondering what this 'boat race' would be like. But just before we reached the deck, we had to take different routes because lifeboats 6 and 8 served different sections of the ship.

Lifeboat station 6 was a hive of activity when my Mistress and I arrived. The lifeboat itself had been removed and in its place was a much smaller lighter boat more like a large canoe. Masters and Mistresses were busy shackling slaves in a row along each side; the slaves had to kneel astride a narrow plank raised a foot or so above the deck their knees rested on (I could see that this meant they'd be unable to sit on their shackled heels and would only be able to 'rest' by sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the plank!).

I and another slave (a voluptuous redhead whose very large tits captured my attention and caused my cock to stand up hard!) were the last to take our places. But when, at the invitation of the officer orgainizing things, my Mistress led me forward, there seemed to be no places left in the two rows of kneeling naked paddlers! What was I to do?

The answer came soon enough! I was led to the stern of the boat where there was a tall post -- a mast, I guess! -- with a bright blue pennant flying at its top. Standing on a box with my back against this mast, I was bound very tightly to it by a harness which lifted me off the deck with strong straps under my crotch. My hands were fastened high over my head, but my legs were left free; what's more, my feet were below the keel! I wondered whether I was to do my bit by paddling with them?

My question was answered by the final touches to my bonds! A rudder was fitted between my feet, hinged on the mast, and my ankles were fastened into padded metal cuffs on the ends of a twelve-inch rod fixed across it. At the same time a network of cords was tied around my cock and balls, and two attached cords led to either side behind me.

My Mistress had disappeared behind me too; now I suddenly found her arms around me and her voice whispering in my ear. "D'you see the idea, slave?" she asked. "I'll be steering with these cords. When I pull on them ..." I felt a couple of tugs from each side "... I want you to turn the rudder with your legs. Let's practice a bit, shall we?"

So we did. At the same time a Mistress' voice on the boat behind me said, OK slaves, here are your paddles. Keep a good grip on them -- they won't be attached by shackles today -- if any of you lose yours overboard, there'll be a penalty whether we win or lose ... and we probably will lose if we're short of paddles. Ready? Here we go!"

Next thing I felt the boat lifting slowly into the air, then it swung out over the side of the ship, hesitated, and was lowered to the surface. In a moment we were free of the lifting cables and bobbing gently on the smooth water beside the ship.

Behind me another Mistress' voice called, "Right now, you galley-slaves, let's get your paddling arms warmed up. See if we can find a good smooth rhythm -- all together ... in ... pull ... out ... in..." And we were moving, slowly and a bit jerkily at first, but with steadily increasing speed and smoothness.

By this time I was beginning to wonder where the other boat was, presumably with Helen aboard, and whether she was paddling or acting as a rudder like I was. My Mistress murmured in my ear, "Look, slave, to your left!"; I turned my head and there she was ... the other boat gliding past in the opposite direction only a few yards away! And there she was too ... Helen, not paddling or acting as a rudder, but adorning the prow of the boat as a figurehead!

She looked magnificent! Her lovely naked body was angled forward, in the classic style of the figurehead; her arms and legs were drawn back and fastened with strong straps to support her; and she held her head high so that her firm breasts were thrust proudly forward. This gives a new meaning (I couldn't help thinking) to the idea of "breasting the waves"!

There were no waves, in fact; the surface was almost like glass as both boats glided over it, the crews warming up and getting the feel of our craft. Several times during these maneouvres the two boats circled each other; once Helen came within a few feet, facing me directly and moving quite slowly. She smiled brilliantly at me, obviously enjoying herself; and I smiled back, lost in admiration of her gorgeous body.

I also had a chance to look at the crew of 'Helen's' boat; just behind her sat Master Paul, whose main function seemed to be to reach out occasionally and caress those glorious outthrust tits. Behind him, between the two rows of six kneeling slaves wielding their paddles, sat two more Masters; both held long thin whips, which they used more to threaten than to beat the slaves. One of them was clearly the 'skipper', while the other concentrated on keeping the slaves paddling in unison. In the stern sat a Mistress, with a male slave tied to a mast just as I was; and she responded to directions from the 'skipper' to turn the boat by pulling on cords tied to the 'rudder' slave's cock and balls ... just as my Mistress was doing with me!

It wasn't hard to guess that my own boat was arranged in the same way ... and I suddenly realised that the curvy redheaded slave I'd noticed was almost certainly our figurehead! (I wished I could see how she looked; "She must be almost as sexy as Helen," I thought ... and the thought made my cock grow hard.) The only differences, as far as I could tell, were that my boat's skipper and 'slave-driver' were Mistresses and that Helen's boat had a red pennant on its mast instead of blue. (I remembered that Nicole had 'bet' on the red boat!)

I also had time to look at our surroundings. We were in a lovely tropical lagoon, about two hundred yards across and almost encircled by a white sandy beach and palm trees; the entrance was quite narrow and the cruise ship almost blocked it as it lay at anchor just offshore ... which accounted for the glassy smoothness of the surface.

The ship was close enough for the watchers on board to have a good view of the boat race, especially with binoculars. There were other spectators on the beach (closer than those on the ship but not so high) and still more on the two lifeboats which had been lowered to make room on the boat deck for the 'racing' boats. They were stationary, anchored somewhat less than a hundred yards apart near the centre of the lagoon, and their occupants would have by far the best view of the race ... because I could hear our 'skipper' telling her crew that we were to race around the lifeboats in a figure-eight pattern.

Our 'warming up' period ended when an officer on one of the lifeboats called us up to the start. Both boats were carefully positioned with our sterns close to that lifeboat and held there by a firm grip on the most convenient handles available ... my cock and that of my counterpart on the other boat! Then the 'starter' counted slowly down from ten and, on reaching zero, the grip on my cock was released and simultaneously someone else swung a large leather paddle sharply across my belly.

The sound of this blow, coinciding exactly with another from the 'red' boat, echoed across the lagoon like a rifle shot ... and the race was on!

'Our' paddlers got the better start and soon we held a half-length advantage over the other boat. But they improved their rhythm and began to make up the leeway; they were almost alongside when I suddenly felt my cock tugged firmly to my left ... which meant I was to turn the rudder hard in that direction, that is, away from the other boat.

I did my best, and our boat began to turn ... just as we came abreast of the second lifeboat. I realised that we'd been lucky enough to draw the 'inside lane', which gave us an advantage on this first turn; when we straightened up for the run back to the other lifeboat, there was a clear boat length between me and Helen at the front of the other boat. And my Mistress' voice murmured in my ear, "You did a good job of turning the rudder so sharply, slave; now all we have to do is stay in front!"

We did, for the next two 'legs' of the race -- back to the first lifeboat, around it and then retracing our course. The 'red' boat quickly made up the gap between us (it seemed they were clearly able to make better speed) but they made no attempt to overtake us, and were content to trail very close behind.

This, of course, meant that I was treated to the best possible view of their 'figurehead'! Helen's lovely naked body, bound so erotically with her firm breasts out-thrust and her legs astride the boat's bow, was rarely more than a few yards away. Despite all the action and exertion around me, my cock stood up and pointed at her! ... to the great amusement of Master Paul as he leaned over Helen's shoulder to keep his 'skipper' informed of how close we were.

On the third turn around a lifeboat, the other 'skipper' tried to cut inside us, but our skipper was ready for this and I was able to help by keeping our turn tight. The tactics changed on the next straight run; the paddlers on the other boat, spurred on by words of encouragement (and a few light flicks with the whip!), increased their speed in a real effort to overtake us. Helen and the whole of her boat went out of my view as they drew alongside and (I learned later) even a half length ahead.

But they couldn't get far enough ahead to cut across our bows before the next turn came up, and we still had the inside running. As we circled the lifeboat for the fourth time, my Mistress said in my ear, "Not too tight this time, slave; our skipper wants to force them into a wide curve instead of a straight run, and just try to keep between them and the finish line."

I tried to obey her instructions. In fact, the plan was working perfectly ... until suddenly, just as the other boat dropped to a length behind and Helen appeared at my side, their skipper shouted an order. The paddlers on our side of their boat immediately began paddling in reverse and the boat seemed to turn almost in its own length! And the timing was so precise that Helen's lovely outthrust tits came within a yard or so of my face as the bows of her boat swung towards the finish line!

That one clever manoeuvre decided the race. Facing backwards as I was, I didn't see the other boat cross the line; but I heard the victory shouts of its crew and it seemed a long time before our paddlers stopped their furious action and we coasted to a landing on the beach. Later I learned that the margin was about four boat lengths.

Although we'd lost, to my surprise I and the other slaves on our boat were released before those on the other boat. But I soon learned the reason for this -- we had to kneel in the shallows beside their boat and offer our backs as 'stepping stones' for them, owners and slaves alike, to reach the shore without getting their feet wet! This, my Mistress told me later, was an old tradition associated with the boat race.

The victorious crew were warmly applauded by the spectators on the beach. A few minutes later the spectators on the two lifeboats also came ashore and there was much good-natured banter between the Masters and Mistresses of the slaves who had crewed the boats. Wagers were settled, often with arrangements for the losing owner's slave to submit to a period of serving the winner that evening or some other time.

When my Mistress met up with Master Paul, the first thing he said to her was "I'll bet you're glad you didn't agree to use this race instead of our poker game! But you know, it has only put off the moment for a few hours, hasn't it?" She just smiled and replied, "Don't be too sure of that! In any case, I prefer to have only myself to blame if I do lose."

We -- Masters and Mistresses and slave boat crews -- spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon on the beach, swimming and sunbathing and having a delicious picnic lunch. Some very clear distinctions were drawn between the winning and losing boat crews. For example, I and the other slaves from the losing boat had to wear at least ankle shackles the whole time, while the other slaves remained unshackled. Also, the winning Masters and Mistresses had first rights to the services (and the naked bodies!) of us losing slaves.

Interestingly enough, we weren't actually punished for losing the race; as it turned out, the only person to be punished for it was the last person I would have expected! Soon after the race ended, the Mistress who skippered our boat congratulated the other skipper on his tactics; then she continued, "I feel our loss was mostly my fault, being out-maneouvered like that, so I'm prepared to submit to slavery during your victory party as a sort of penance ... to apologise to my crew for letting them down."

The winning skipper looked at her in surprise, and so did everyone who was watching. After a moment's thought he replied with a friendly grin, "Well, I could hardly refuse an offer like that, could I? You might even be setting a precedent for future boat races! Now, are you quite sure you want to do this? Because, once you've submitted, I won't release you until just before we return to the ship ... and I might treat you a little worse than you expect! Well?" She hesitated, but then nodded firmly. "OK," he continued, "Strip!"

It took her only a moment to obey (she was only wearing a bikini) and her shapely body was naked to the view of Masters and Mistresses and slaves alike. Now he made her fit shackles on her own ankles, then he tied her hands tightly but quite comfortably behind her back.

"Now," he went on, "your first task as my temporary slave is to go to each member of your crew (not the slaves, of course, they don't count), kneel and apologise ... and ask if they would like to give you a few strokes with a paddle." She obeyed and of course my Mistress and the other two 'officers' were only too happy to oblige! They each gave her five good hard strokes on her shapely buttocks as she bent over the trunk of a fallen palm-tree.

For the rest of the picnic she was quite the centre of attention. It was rare for any Masters or Mistresses on the ship to submit to public nakedness and slavery; they liked to play at being superior to us slaves! So everybody (not least we slaves!) watched her humiliation with great interest: she had to serve the other skipper with food and drink; he constantly played with her naked body and brought her to a climax at least once; and he made her give oral service to the two non-rowing slaves on his winning boat -- my opposite number and of course Helen. (For the rest of the cruise Helen bragged to me about having been eaten by a Mistress!)

We slaves, of course, (especially those from the losing boat!) had to submit to the usual treatment given to slaves. Some of this was in the form of games, with slaves playing against slaves or against Masters and Mistresses (in this case, the slaves always had a handicap that was very difficult to overcome!). There were races of various kinds, which invariably involved some bondage or other for the slaves!

Sometimes, however, this bondage was anything but unpleasant ... like when I and the figurehead slave from our boat were pitted against Helen and my counter-part from hers. I found myself tied very tightly, face to face with the voluptuous redhead who had graced the prow of our boat; her large breasts pressed against my chest and my prick got hard as it was tied between her firm thighs, and our wrists were fastened behind the other's back by straps which allowed my hands to rest on the generous curves of her bottom.

Helen and her crew-mate were similarly bound, then we were laid on our sides on the warm sand. Our owners knelt beside us and told us that the idea was for us to roll over and over down the sloping beach into the shallows. "Your legs are free to give you some control," said my Mistress. "Once you start rolling, it'll probably be best to keep them straight and close together." And they gave us a push to start us off.

It was over too quickly! I was greatly enjoying the sensation of lying alternately on and under the sexy curves of the slave-girl I was bound to, when we splashed into the warm water of the lagoon and willing hands caught us. My companion and I had won, rescuing some honour for our boat; we were untied and allowed to watch while the losers were given a few strokes with a light cat-o'-nine-tails across their bottoms while still tied. I almost wished we'd lost!

At one point I was 'claimed' by the Mistress whose slave had acted as the 'rudder' on the other boat; leading me into the nearby sand-dunes, she found a secluded hollow where she made me lie face down and tied my wrists and ankles in a loose hogtie. Then she moved about ten yards away and spread out a towel.

"I want to improve my all-over tan," she said as she stripped off her swim-suit and lay down. "But, as you can see, my pussy is shaved and can't be exposed to the sun for too long. So ... I expect you to help by coming here and covering it with your head. If you take too long and it gets burnt..."

Her tan looked perfectly even to me, but of course I had little choice but to obey! My bondage was loose enough to enable me to move across the sand by wriggling and humping my hips up and down with my knees; the former was slower but my chest and belly were constantly rubbed by the sand, while the latter was faster but no more comfortable because my cock and balls took the shock as my hips came down after each 'hump' forward! And this was made worse by the hard-on I soon had at the sight of my destination ...

She lay on her back, an amused smile on her face, and gently caressed her slim naked body; her legs were towards me and spread wide, and I could clearly see the end of my little journey centred between them ... with no thatch of curly hair on her pussy, the lips of her cunt pouted invitingly and her prominent clit even peeped from between them. It seemed a lot longer, but I guess it was about ten minutes before I reached her, panting a little, and shaded her pussy with my head.

"Good slave!" she complimented me warmly. "Now you get a small reward. Let's see what you can do with your tongue!"

I'm always only too willing to obey that command! In a moment my lips were feeling smooth flesh where they usually found hair, and my tongue was tracing the shape of her vulva and seeking out her sensitive clit. But this time it was different in another way, too; my cock was getting harder with the excitement, and I could almost feel it burrowing into the soft sand I lay on!

The Mistress soon had a climax and clutched my head with her thighs as she moaned in pleasure. After a moment's rest, she stood up and rolled me onto my back, saying: "That was nice, slave; now my bottom needs some sun too, but you needn't stop what you're doing!" ... and she carefully spread her towel over me to save getting sand on her precious skin, I suppose!) before lying face down on it and presenting her pussy to my willing mouth again.

She wasn't completely selfish and heartless, though; while her bottom was "getting some sun," she used a moist cloth to gently wipe the sand from my poor cock and fondled it sensuously until it was as hard as an iron bar and aching for an orgasm. But I was hardly surprised when she didn't let me come, although she herself had another climax by courtesy of my hard-working lips and teeth and tongue. Ah, such is the life of a slave!

When we rejoined the picnickers, my Mistress was intrigued by my red knees and chest and (especially!) cock. On learning the cause, she showed great care in helping me wash the sand off ... but I noticed the corners of her mouth twitching and her eyes sparkling, and I couldn't help smiling with her!

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 13: A Private Contest.

When we got back to the ship in mid-afternoon, my Mistress and Master Paul decided it was time to organise their little private contest -- the game of poker to determine which would be a slave to the other for a few hours!

After some discussion, they managed to book a bondage room for three hours late that evening but agreed that the loser would be 'in slavery' until just before breakfast the next morning. Also, in order not to cut into the three hours with the actual poker game, they decided to 'play' it beforehand ... immediately, in fact!

We all four gathered in my Mistress' cabin, as it was a little larger than Master Paul's. Then the 'local rules' for the game had to be agreed ...

First there was the matter of exactly how many units of clothing each player would wear. After a little negotiation, they agreed: for Master Paul, briefs, two socks, two shoes, shirt and trousers; and for my Mistress, briefs, bra, suspender, two stockings, two shoes, skirt and blouse. This meant that she had two more units to lose than he did ... as they had originally agreed.

Master Paul suggested that they should each 'retire' to the bathroom with the other's slave to confirm what they were wearing, but my Mistress pointed out with a smile that any attempt at cheating would soon be revealed! But she did excuse herself for a few minutes, saying that she had to put on the stockings and suspender -- she didn't normally wear these on a tropical cruise!

In addition to their clothes, they each had eight 'chips', which they agreed would be equivalent to two units of clothing. After some discussion, it was agreed that the maximum first bet or raise should be one unit, and that all raises be limited at the rate of one unit per round of betting.

My Mistress now made a suggestion: "I think we shouldn't be allowed to exchange any chips or clothing during a hand; I mean, if I lose my skirt, I'll have to win it back before I can put it on, not just swap it for something of yours I may have won earlier." Master Paul readily agreed to this, and it was fairly obvious from his expression that he was looking forward to seeing more of my Mistress' body.

Finally, Master Paul raised the question of what to do with Helen and me during the game: "Shouldn't we tie them up or order them to stand behind their respective owner? I don't want your slave peeking over my shoulder and passing you signals about my hand."

"I really don't think that's necessary," said my Mistress. "We can trust you two, can't we? ... And anyway," she smiled at Master Paul, "could you be quite sure that your slave may not like the idea of seeing you as a slave?" This gave him something to think about, and he eventually agreed that we slaves were allowed to watch both hands, if we promised we wouldn't cheat.

At last the game got under way. For the first few hands, the players were clearly testing each other out and nothing very exciting happened. But, having watched my Mistress play before, I was certain she had a definite plan in mind; she bet conservatively, but I noticed that she seemed more prepared to lose an unit or two of clothing than any of the 'chips'!

At first the cards went against my Mistress, but then she slowly recouped her losses; and it was Master Paul who commented as she dealt at one point: "Looks like we're back where we started. I've still got all my clothes, plus these two shoes of yours, while you've got all my chips instead. You can't wear the chips, you know; if you're left with no clothes and only chips, will I win because you'll be naked with no clothes to bet?"

My Mistress thought for a moment, then smiled: "I guess so. But I don't intend to let that happen. Now, down to business ... three cards for you? ... OK .. I'll keep what I've got." I couldn't believe my ears, because her hand was worthless ... yet there seemed to be a subtle change in her manner that suggested complete confidence. She's going to try a bluff, I thought -- and wondered if Master Paul would pick it up.

I think he did, because he started with a maximum bid -- one of his own shoes; my Mistress took off a stocking (displaying a good deal of leg in the process) and put it on the table to match his bet, then added two chips to raise the stake. Master Paul pressed on, and two rounds of betting later he had bet his other shoe and one sock, while my Mistress had contributed her other stocking and her blouse.

"Back to me, is it?" said Master Paul. "I think you're bluffing, but with no chips I can't match your bet. So I'll just have to force you to fold ... up two-and-a-half!" And he put in his other sock and both my Mistress' shoes.

My Mistress looked carefully at her (worthless!) hand, then smiled at Master Paul: "Maybe I am bluffing ... maybe you are ... but I can do it better! This matches your bet" (she put in the required number of chips) "... and I'll raise -- one -- two -- three -- four!" As she spoke, she stood up and calmly took off her skirt, suspender, bra and briefs and laid them all on the table!

Master Paul's eyes grew wide at the sight of her gorgeous naked body, and for a long moment he seemed unable to speak. (I knew how he felt ... if his cock was reacting like mine!) But he regained control of himself, checked his own hand again and said, "Well, the game could be all over right now -- one way or the other!" He started to unbutton his shirt, then stopped. "Your raise was ... four? But I've only got three things left; I can't match your bet!"

"No, you can't, can you?" grinned my Mistress. "That was my advantage, remember? You should have folded earlier; now you'll really need some good hands to win the game!" And she retrieved her clothing -- all of it was on the table! -- and dressed quickly before gathering the cards to shuffle them for Master Paul to deal the next hand.

Now I saw why she had so carefully gathered all the 'chips': it allowed her to control the betting and, once she had most of the 'capital', it made her virtually unbeatable! I'd always known she was a very smart lady, and this only proved it again.

She had the first bet on the next hand, and she put down two chips without any apparent thought; but, when Master Paul tried to match her bet by putting in his shirt and taking out her two chips, she objected sharply: "You can't do that! We agreed that taking 'change' out of the pot wouldn't be allowed."

Master Paul complained that this wasn't fair, and that she could simply outbid him on every hand regardless of what she held. She smiled sweetly and replied: "Why do you think I took such care to get control of the chips? You should have realised that possibility earlier, shouldn't you?

"I'll tell you what, though," she continued after a moment's thought. "I'm far enough ahead that I can afford to be generous -- from now on I'll always give you a chance to match my bet if you want to ... BUT I might use the chips to force you to bet everything you have. OK?"

Realising that he'd been out-manoeuvred, Master Paul agreed with good grace and added, "Maybe I'll be very lucky and still win!" They re-dealt that hand and, after my Mistress opened the betting with one of Master Paul's shoes (she held quite a reasonable hand), he put in both his shirt and trousers, leaving him with only his tight briefs to protect his modesty.

My Mistress looked him up and down with interest. "Well now," she said as she looked at her hand, "am I going to raise your bet and make you take those off as well? ... No, I think I'll let you keep them for a little while longer. I'll just match your bet; what have you got?"

"Damn!" she exclaimed when her hand turned out to be better. "I could have finished the game right there ... if you'd been game to match my bet. Would you?"

But Master Paul, like any good poker player, wouldn't say one way or the other; he simply grinned and said, "Perhaps you lost your chance. This could be the start of my great come-back!"

For the next three hands it looked as if he was exactly right! The hands my Mistress got were terrible, but she still had to bet; and the minimum bet, since Master Paul had no chips, was one whole item of clothing!

But the game retained its excitement because, on the first two of these three hands, Master Paul had to strip off his briefs in order to stay in the bidding ... and my Mistress stared with unconcealed interest at his now complete nakedness.

"Looks as if you're enjoying this!" she commented as her eyes fastened on his cock; not unnaturally, it was partly hard from the excitement.

Master Paul grinned somewhat shamfacedly, then blushed when she continued: "I wonder if you'll be enjoying it later, when I get my hands on that!" But he recovered some of his composure with the winnings from the three hands.

Not that these winnings did much for his modesty (if indeed he had much of that, which I doubt!) -- my Mistress cunningly allowed him only to win back some of her clothes, specifically her shoes and stockings, which meant that he was still wearing only his briefs despite his newly-won 'riches' of five units! He saw what she was doing, with the result that his briefs could do little to conceal his growing hard-on.

I wanted my Mistress to win this game and was beginning to feel concerned at the way her luck was running. But on the next hand I began to wonder if she was actually trying to lose; with the best cards she'd held for four hands, she chose to bet only one chip ... and then to fold without even matching her opponent's bet! Or was she indulging in some very subtle tactics...?

Master Paul immediately opened the betting on the next hand with the chip he'd newly won. With an air of confidence, my Mistress calmly raised the stakes with one of his shoes and, on the next round, the other. Since Helen and I could see both hands, we knew her confidence was justified: although they both held very good cards, my Mistress' were better. But, of course, Master Paul didn't know this...

"I think you're bluffing again," he muttered as he pondered his next bet.

"Maybe I am," responded my Mistress serenely. "But remember; I can still force you to risk everything you've got to find out!"

This made Master Paul think even harder. Eventually he decided, and placed both my Mistress' stockings on the table, raising her bet by one-and-three-quarter units. With no hesitation at all, she countered with both of his socks, which raised the stakes by just that one chip or quarter-unit.

"Before you make your next bet," she said, "look at how delicately the game is balanced. I'm still well ahead, but that could change with what's on the table. I don't know if you're bluffing and you don't know if I'm bluffing, or maybe we're both bluffing, but I'm prepared to take a chance to stop the game dragging out too long.

"Why don't you risk everything on this next bet? I'll match your bet, and the game will either be over or you'll have a small advantage; unless I have a run of luck, you should be able to win from there.

"Alternatively ... if you're not quite game to take that risk, I suggest we change the rules again; forget the little chips and let's make the minimum bet one whole unit. But I worked hard to get all the chips to control the game, so I also want to be able to outbid you again.

"So what do you say?" she asked. "If you don't like either of these ideas, remember that I can just let you win this hand and still be just in control. Do you think the run of luck you've been having can go on much longer?"

Master Paul thought this over for quite some time before he replied. "OK," he said, "I'm not going to bet everything; at least it means I'm still alive, if your hand beats mine. But I will agree to your second idea." He put my Mistress' other shoe on the table and said, "Match that and let's see who's bluffing!"

My Mistress said nothing as she put just one chip down to equal his bet and waited. When she saw his cards, she smiled with mock sadness and said, "So you weren't bluffing, were you? But I hate to tell you this; neither was I!" And she slowly laid her cards on the table, showing that they just beat his.

She gathered up the stake, gave Master Paul a look of friendly contempt and said, "You know, you don't really deserve to win this game; you're not game to take a decent risk. Do you have what it takes to be a real Master?

"And now," she went on a few moments later, putting four chips on the table as her opening bet for the next hand, "are you game to match that? Or will you wait until you get an unbeatable hand?"

This time Master Paul didn't hesitate. He stripped off his briefs (the only 'coin' he had left!) and put them on the table. They showed their hands; his won, and he claimed them back with the chips.

"I wouldn't bother putting them on again," said my Mistress drily as she began to deal. "I intend to make you bet them as often as I can from now on. Besides, I'm quite enjoying the view!" she finished in a tone of exaggerated smugness. (She had put all her clothes back on, and she still had all his -- except the briefs, of course! -- and most of the chips to bet with!)

Master Paul grinned ruefully and, conceding his probable defeat, stayed naked for the rest of the game ... which didn't last very long! He won the next hand, but the following one went against him, leaving him with only his briefs again. And, when he had to open the betting with them on the following one, my Mistress showed no mercy; although her hand was worthless, she simply outbid him with (to add insult to defeat) his shirt and trousers!

There was a triumphant gleam in her eyes as she added the last item of his clothing to her pile of winnings. Then, holding his eyes with her gaze, she asked, "What was our agreement, then? The first one naked with nothing to bet, to be the other's slave until tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yes, Mistress Tina," admitted Master Paul cheerfully. "But shouldn't my slavery really start later, at the time we booked the bondage room?"

"We'll talk about that in a minute," she replied. "First I want to discuss what to do with slave Helen. Remember when I submitted to that evening of B and D on the island?

"I sent my slave away so that he wouldn't get any ideas above his station; I think we should do the same with yours tonight ... that's if she hasn't already got those ideas, what with being eaten by a Mistress today!!" She gave Helen a bright smile and received an equally brilliant one in return.

Master Paul agreed enthusiastically to this, and to my Mistress' suggestion that Helen should be put in the 'slave raffle' that was held each evening. Helen, of course, was given no choice in the matter -- not that she wanted any; on the contrary, she gave every sign of looking forward to it!

"Good!" said my Mistress. "Now perhaps you should write a note to the raffle organisers, and I'll just... Turn around, slave-girl!" She tied Helen's wrists securely behind her back, then took Master Paul's note and attached it to one of her nipples with a clamp. "Off you go then! If you're not sure where to go, just ask any officer!" she finished and gave Helen's bottom a resounding slap to send her on her way.

Helen obeyed, her face showing a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I knew, as we all did, that the office she was heading for was almost the length of the ship away ... and, of course, a slave walking alone with bound wrists was available to be fondled by any passing Master or Mistress!

My Mistress turned back to Master Paul. "Now," she said brightly, "as to your slavery starting later tonight: first I want to have a good look at you! I just may decide that you're not up to my standards as a slave. OK?

"Good! Right then, stand up straight ... legs a little apart ... chest out ... belly in ... and hands clasped behind your head. Yes, not bad..." she went on as she ran her hands all over his naked body.

Finally she spent some time fondling his cock and balls, bringing his organ to a rock-hard erection. "Yes," she murmured, "I think I can have quite a bit of fun with you tonight. It might be a new experience for you, but I promise it won't be entirely unpleasant!

"Now," she went on, "although your slavery won't be starting for a few hours, I want you to think of yourself as my slave between now and then. I'm not going to expect you to be naked and shackled in front of the other Masters and Mistresses, but listen to everything I say to slave Peter here and try to imagine yourself being in his place. It might help a lot to get you in the right mood! OK? ... Good!

"Finally, just in case you get cold feet between now and then, will you let me lock a harness on your eager little -- sorry, I mean big! -- member here? After all, I won you fair and square, and I mean to enjoy my winnings!" And she gave Master Paul a big smile when he agreed.

I watched in fascination as the harness she often used on me was applied to Master Paul's cock and balls. It consisted of a tight ring padlocked around the base, several smaller connected rings along its shaft and the smallest just behind its head; the final touch was a heavy chain around his waist, also padlocked to the cock-rings and holding his prick up against his belly. This wasn't too painful, I knew from experience, but the tight rings tended to keep one's cock hard and somewhat uncomfortable.

"There!" she said with a satisfied smile. "That should ensure that you'll keep your part of the bargain and remind you that for a while you're a slave, not a Master. You can get dressed now, and then we can go have a drink before dinner.

"When the time comes, l'll expect you to be waiting for me in the bondage room in an appropriate pose. Your cue will be when I tell slave Peter to go and get himself ready; you'll offer to go with him and see that he obeys! One last thing," she finished, "you don't need to call me 'Mistress' in public, but I do expect you to treat me with as much respect as possible. OK?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Master Paul with a subtle combination of humility and sarcasm -- just the touch that would make others think they were simply joking with each other.

They kept up this delicate balance throughout drinks and dinner. Master Paul listened carefully to my Mistress' every word, especially when she was giving me orders or talking to me in the way a Mistress talks to a slave.

And she gave him plenty to listen to and think about! Without making it obvious to others around us, she kept up a pretty constant stream of hints for him: she fondled me a great deal, commenting in detail about what sort of body she liked her slave to have; she gave me orders a little more sharply than usual, and several times made very specific threats about punishments I might suffer; most of all, she teased me incessantly about what she planned to do to me during the bondage room booking she had for later in the evening!

Knowing that this was intended for Master Paul, I found it all very exciting. I'm quite sure it had a similar effect on him, and I even began to feel a little sorry for him; his cock must have been quite uncomfortable in its harness!

After dinner we went to watch the 'Slave Raffle' being drawn. This was a daily event, held mainly for the 'unattached' slaves and Masters and Mistresses, those people who had joined the cruise without having the sort of permanent arrangement that I had with my Mistress. But any 'owner' was also welcome to join in by 'contributing' a slave and/or buying a ticket; in fact, a request by any slave to be in the raffle was usually agreed to! And there were always a few 'spare' slaves whose owners didn't 'require their services' that night ... like Helen!

She stood proud and unashamed in the row of naked slaves waiting to learn who would be their Masters or Mistresses for the night. Like the others, her wrists were fastened behind her back and her shapely body was totally on view. (I thought she was easily the most gorgeous of the slave-girls there, but maybe I was biased!) They all wore collars with long leashes; the leashes led into one side of a large box and out of the other side to handles marked in different colours (these denoted the sex of the slave attached to the other end).

The officer in charge stood by the box and invited the ticket holders, one at a time, to come forward and choose a handle. Towards the end, a few declined because the colour of the remaining handles was not to their taste; and the officer assured them that they would be given a choice of the crew slaves who were free. Finally all handles were taken and the officer paused dramatically before lifting the lid from the box.

Inside was a great tangle of leashes! "If you pull on your leash gently," the officer informed the ticket holders, "you'll find that they will unravel quite easily. Have a pleasant evening with your temporary slaves!"

I wondered how it would feel to be one of the slaves, watching the leashes untangling and wondering which Master or Mistress held the other end of yours! (I knew the slaves had no idea, because the leashes had been prepared before the slaves themselves were attached to them; but the 'owners' who had contributed their slaves did know which handle led to theirs ... so that they wouldn't choose their own slave, which would rather defeat the aim!) My Mistress and Master Paul watched with equal interest, if only to know who would have Helen tonight!

Eventually the tangle resolved itself, and each leash led straight (although criss-crossing the others) from an owner to a slave. From our position to one side, we still couldn't tell where Helen's leash led; then the officer asked each owner in turn to tug sharply on his or her leash, and each slave thus identified was given the choice of submitting or not. (This ensured that slaves wouldn't have to submit to treatment they knew they wouldn't enjoy, but they had one choice only -- if they refused, they would spend the night in solitary and tight bondage!)

It turned out that Helen's leash led to one of the 'unattached' Masters -- to be precise, to two of them, a pair of handsome young men who stared at their 'prize' with unconcealed pleasure as they waited for her reaction. It came with no hesitation; Helen smiled brilliantly and nodded ... these two Masters had quite a reputation on the slaves' grapevine for highly inventive and exciting bondage games!

The raffled slaves went their separate ways with their owners for the night, and my Mistress took Master Paul and me to take in some of the entertainment on offer. In fact, we watched the videotapes of the boat race that morning; it was odd, and quite exciting, to see my own naked body bound so tightly to the mast and my cock protruding backwards and swinging from side to side as my Mistress used it to control the rudder. But even more exciting for me was the sight of the two boats' figureheads; the voluptuous redhead leaning forward from the prow of my boat was probably the more impressive, but I still preferred Helen's shapely blond nakedness (my bias again?).

As a slave, I had no way of being sure how the time was passing, and my Mistress had made Master Paul give her his watch too. But it came as no great surprise to me (or to him, I suspect) when she suddenly said to me, "Slave, the bondage room I booked should be free soon; go and get ready in the usual way!"

Master Paul responded instantly, even before I could reply: "Would you like me to go with him, to see he's not kidnapped on the way? And perhaps to see that he behaves himself?"

My Mistress feigned an expression of pleased surprise. "Yes, why not?" she said. "And, since you let your slave Helen get herself raffled off tonight, why don't you join us for a while? You might have some fresh ideas for me to try out on male slaves." She kept a perfectly straight face and sounded as if she meant every word, but the irony in her words was quite clear to both Master Paul and me.

"I'll be along in about ten minutes," she finished.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 14: ... and the Consequences.

Master Paul and I walked in silence to the bondage room; he still wanted to keep up the appearance of being a Master, and I felt I shouldn't take that away from him. Once inside the room, however, he turned to me and said, "Well, we're slaves together now, but you're much more used to this than I am. How do you think she'll want me? Naked ... or would she like to strip me herself?"

"Oh, definitely naked," I replied, finding it a little strange to have him asking me what to do. He stripped quickly, revealing his well-built tanned body; his cock, held firmly against his belly by its harness of rings, was hard and purple with excitement. "We better find some handcuffs," I continued, "and cuffs for our ankles." We did so, and placed the keys to the cuffs on a hook just inside the door.

"When she said 'in the usual way'," I went on, "she meant like this..." I demonstrated, and Master Paul followed suit in fastening short chains between our ankle cuffs, then kneeling side by side facing the door before closing the handcuffs on our wrists behind our backs and gripping our ankles with our hands. The ten minutes must have been almost up, because after only a few seconds the door opened and my (our!) Mistress walked in. I instantly arched my hips up and forward in the way she likes, and from the corner of my eye I saw my fellow-slave doing the same.

My Mistress stood for a long moment, looking down at us with a broad grin. "Well, well," she said, "this is a pleasant surprise! It's so nice of you to join us ... slave Paul! But before I welcome you properly, I'll just see to my old slave here..." She leaned down and gave my cock and balls a thorough and intimate fondle, then moved me to one side; "... where you can relax and watch me initiate my 'prize' slave," she continued. "You'll probably have a fairly quiet evening, but I'm sure you'll enjoy watching!"

She turned back to Paul and her voice hardened significantly: "OK, you ... from now until tomorrow morning ... who am I?"

"Mistress Tina," came Paul's prompt reply.

"Right," she said. "You may address me simply as 'Mistress', and you will do so every time you speak. Now, whose Mistress am I?"

"Mine, Mistress," was the humble answer.

"Yes, yours. And what does that make you?"

"A slave, Mistress."

"Not quite the answer I wanted. Try again."

"Your slave, Mistress."

"Good, I'm glad that's clearly understood," said my Mistress. "I don't need any more answers from you just now, so..." She made Paul open his mouth wide to accept a large ball gag before she went on: "If I'm your Mistress and you're my slave, even temporarily, it means that I have total power over you. We haven't time for long discussions about how you may like to be treated; and, anyway, you said the other day that you'd never considered being a slave, so you can't have many ideas about it at all, can you?

"What I'm going to do is this: I'll use you for my enjoyment and treat you exactly as I want to -- you'll have no say at all in the matter. On the other hand, I don't intend to injure you or even do you any permanent harm, however minor. I do have a good deal of experience with male slaves, and I think that the willingness of Peter here to remain my slave after what he went through on the island, is proof of my ability to judge what a slave can take.

"You won't have many opportunities to disobey me but, if you do, I will punish you as severely as I think fit. Not necessarily by whipping you -- I don't think you want this evening's activities advertised by weals all over your back when you return to being a Master -- but there are other ways of punishing slaves, especially male slaves, and quite severely too; for example..." She suddenly bent down and flicked both forefingers sharply against her captive's balls, so conveniently exposed by the vertical position of his cock.

He grunted and his naked body jerked violently. Slumping back on his heels, he looked up at my Mistress rebelliously. She stared down at him for a few moments before saying quietly, "Yes, I know it hurts; but the pain will go away before long, and while it lasts, it will help to make a point that I'm sure you haven't thought of. It's this: the whole point of slavery is that the slave has no choice, at least for a mutually and freely agreed period.

"As a Master, I think you've been very lucky; your lovely Helen adores you and is your slave in more ways than one. She's happy to have no choice, so long as she has you. Other potential slaves find it much harder to give up their choice, utterly and completely, even for short periods; Peter here had some problems with it, but I think he's learning now. Isn't that right, slave?" She smiled at me, but went on without giving me time to answer.

"Tonight you will find out whether you have that potential to be a slave, to give yourself up utterly to your Mistress and take whatever treatment she wants to give you, whether it's what you'd like or not. Not because you might ever want to become a slave, or even because I think you should learn this; but simply because we made a deal, I won, and it's the only way I can enjoy being a Mistress with a slave. Is that understood?"

There was a long pause. My Mistress waited patiently for an answer, looking not only at Paul, but also glancing at me with an expression I couldn't quite identify. I had a feeling she was trying to give me some sort of message, but I couldn't see what it might be. Eventually Paul nodded, slowly and somewhat reluctantly.

"Good," said my Mistress. "Not that it matters, I hope you realise; you copied my slave's example, put yourself in shackles, and now you're completely helpless and I can keep you that way as long as I like, can't I? Let's have you up in the pose again for the last thing I want to say..." She reached down again; but this time merely took hold of Paul's vulnerable balls and gently but firmly made him lift his hips up again.

"That's better," she smiled. "Now remember, we made a deal and I'll keep my side of it; I will release you tomorrow morning. In any case, your slave will come looking for you about then, so I couldn't get away with trying to keep you in bondage even if I wanted to. Then, if you feel I've mistreated you, you can complain to any officer just like any slave can; but both your slave and mine will tell them our deal was freely agreed, and I suspect the worst they'd do with me would be to declare that you're no longer my slave ... which will be true anyway!

"This has been quite a speech, hasn't it?" she concluded. "But I had to make things clear, otherwise winning our poker game wouldn't have been worth my bother. Now I'm going to make the most of it; after all, I might have lost and, having tried both sides, I knew I only really enjoy being a Mistress! If you're game to submit utterly and obey me completely, you might find you enjoy being a slave as well as a Master; if not, you probably won't enjoy it much ... but I will, either way! Which is it to be?"

This time her captive didn't hesitate at all, but nodded emphatically. "OK," she said, "now I want you to prove it. I'm going to release your shackles and give you a series of simple orders, to be obeyed exactly! I could free my own slave (between us we could control you if you change your mind) but I won't, so if you wanted to, you might be able to overpower me ... but I wouldn't bet on it!" she finished with a grin and a significant glance at his exposed balls.

Paul had clearly got her message, because he obeyed perfectly. With no shackles on either wrists or ankles, he stood to attention and posed his naked body in a variety of ways; he touched his toes and accepted a single cut with a cane across his bottom ("... just to see how you like it!" said my Mistress); he even took a pair of strong spring clamps she gave him and attached them to his own nipples! The only time he hesitated before obeying was when she told him to fondle my cock and balls; but at her sharp look he did obey, and spent several minutes giving me pleasure ... without letting me come, of course!

Meanwhile my Mistress got things ready for more serious bondage activities. She located and laid out the various cuffs, ropes, chains and other equipment she wanted. (Once she was happy that Paul would 'behave', she sometimes didn't even look at him while calling orders over her shoulder!) Finally, she stripped off her skirt and blouse to reveal a black leather domination costume; it was cut extremely high at the sides, accentuating her long slim legs, and its V-neck plunged to below her navel. In a word, it was erotic -- especially when she added matching elbow-length gloves and knee-high boots!

Now she stood Paul in the centre of the room and tied his wrists together with a rope hanging from a pulley above his head. She then activated the pulley motor until he almost had to stand on tiptoe to take his weight off his arms. I knew from experience how tantalisingly uncomfortable this was, either straining one's leg muscles to take the weight or dropping to one's heels and therefore straining one's arms.

My Mistress now started teasing and tormenting his naked body, so helplessly stretched for her amusement. She ran her sharp fingernails up and down his sides, arms, back, ribs and belly, frequently adding painful little pinches. After at least twenty minutes of this, she stood directly in front of him, looked hard into his eyes and (without saying a word) inserted the tip of the riding crop she held between his thighs and tapped it gently from side to side.

I could see the amazement in Paul's eyes as it dawned on him what she meant; but how could he spread his legs (I could almost hear him thinking) when he was already almost hanging from his wrists? But she was insistent and eventually got his obedience with a sudden light flick upwards of the crop; the blow it dealt to his balls couldn't have been very painful, but it clearly made the point to him, how utterly vulnerable he was with his balls so exposed to any blow she might lay on them. He began to edge his feet apart.

My Mistress was patient, but she wasn't satisfied until his toes were at least two feet apart. She stood back for a moment and smiled: "See what you can do when you really try?" she said softly. "A slave only begins to be a slave when he tries as hard as possible to please his Mistress." Paul's arms were now bearing all his weight, and the muscles and tendons in his legs were stretched to their limit simply to allow his toes to touch the floor and keep his legs apart!

These very muscles and tendons were now doubly sensitive to the attentions of my Mistress' tormenting fingernails, as she ran them slowly and firmly down his inner thighs, behind his knees and on over his taut calf muscles. She even spent a few moments tickling the strained and extra sensitive soles of his feet; involuntarily, he broke his pose as he tried to avoid her insistent touch, but two sharp blows with the crop right on his ankle bones forced him to resume it. Her nails traced their way back up his legs and reached his crotch, where they delicately but quite unmercifully scratched and prodded between his legs and all over his balls and his constricted but engorged prick.

Paul was panting heavily by this time, partly through the strain of his bondage and (I suspected) partly through arousal. My Mistress obviously had similar suspicions, because she said, "Let's see if this weapon of yours is hard just because the rings are constricting it, or because you're really enjoying this!" She unlocked the waist-chain, allowing his cock to fall away from his belly ... but it didn't even reach the horizontal, it was so hard!

As carefully as she could, she pulled the tight rings from its shaft; but I could sympathise with her captive, because I knew just how uncomfortable it was to have such tight rings pulled from a hard prick! He heaved a sigh of relief when the last ring was removed, but this turned into a surprised gasp when she immediately grasped his cock and massaged it firmly (from experience, I knew that this was in some ways even more painful!); but he endured it bravely.

For his next 'exercise in slavery' (as she called it), my Mistress made Paul kneel and fastened a cord between his ankles and the base of his cock, short enough to keep him on his knees; and she tied his wrists behind his back with cords leading to the clamps that still pinched his nipples. Then he obediently followed her as she paraded around the room; whenever she stood still, he had to cover whatever part of her he could reach with kisses and licks. The smooth curves of her buttocks (left almost bare by her costume) got lots of attention, as did her lovely thighs.

She also made him bend right down and lick the glossy leather on the toes of her boots, and even keep their soles clean with his tongue. "In case you need the standard symbol of slavery," she grinned. And once or twice she briefly allowed him to kiss the strip of leather covering her pussy! "Later," she said, you'll have plenty of opportunity to use your tongue on me without that covering! For now, it's just to get you in the mood!"

"That'll do," she said after about twenty minutes of this. "You can relax for a minute while I set up slave Peter for our next game." She began to make adjustments to my bondage, saying as she did so, "One of the nice things about having two slaves, as you know, is setting you up in 'shared bondage'. I know slave Peter just hates to be left out!"

Before long she had us both tied standing and facing each other a few feet apart; but the ropes holding our legs and arms spreadeagled were not very tight ... yet! "Another nice thing about having two slaves ..." she smiled, tying cords around the bases of our cocks, "... is making you decide the discomfort of each other's bondage!" she went on, tying the other ends of the cords to clamps on our nipples, my cock to Paul's nipples and vice versa. "There!" she finished with a broad grin. "Now let's tighten these cords a little."

She took a thin cane and carefully twisted the cords between our cocks and nipples around it, right at the point they crossed over. Then she began to turn it, and gradually the tension on the cords increased, forcing Paul and me to arch our naked bodies forwards into an ever more uncomfortable pose. Her eyes sparkling with enjoyment at our predicament, she teased us by pointing out that neither of us had to strain ourselves for the other's comfort!

I wasn't concerned with Paul's comfort; I was only trying to reduce the strain on those tender parts of my bound and naked anatomy! And I'm sure Paul's concern was similar. At last I simply couldn't arch myself any further ... but still my Mistress increased the tension, until I felt the strong spring-loaded clamps starting to slip on my nipples -- which is a good deal more painful than simple tension, I can tell you!

Suddenly, with no warning (but with an excruciating sensation of a sharp pinch followed by blessed relief!), the clamps pulled off my nipples. Almost instantly, the sharp tug downwards as my cock took all the strain, coupled with my involuntary jerk backwards, pulled the clamps from Paul's nipples too. He howled; I, however, a little more used to being treated like this, managed to limit myself to a low moan. Then, in unison, we both sighed with relief.

Our relief was very short-lived. Quickly twitching the loose cords around the cane to prevent it untwisting, my Mistress began massaging our newly-freed nipples. The cord between our cocks, still short enough to make us arch a little, stopped us from pulling away from her insistent fingers ... but we both tried several times, adding more discomfort to ourselves and each other! My Mistress seemed to really enjoy our chorus of strangled cries and grunts, as she restored the circulation to our pinched and ultra-sensitive nipples by rolling them firmly between her strong fingers.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" she asked when at last she stopped -- and grinned widely at our expressions as we dutifully agreed with her. She allowed the cane to unwind, letting us relax in our bonds a little; then she continued, "You know, I've often thought it would be very amusing to have two male slaves and to order them to suck each other's cocks. Don't you think that would be fun?"

I was quite stunned, but not so much as Paul; his eyes widened, his jaw dropped and he stammered with a note of desperation in his voice, "No, Mistress ... not that ... please!" But his pleas stopped at my Mistress' sharp "Quiet!"

"That wasn't my question, slave," she said quietly, but a touch of steel in her voice made Paul bite off any further protest. "As I said earlier: while you're my slave tonight, you ... have ... no ... choice! However, you seem to feel pretty strongly about it, and I don't want this evening to be entirely unpleasant for you. Besides," she grinned, "you might take it into your head to use your teeth to seriously injure my slave here, who trusts me to protect him from anything like that!

"Now you, slave Peter," she addressed me, "you wouldn't dream of doing anything like that, would you? You're a good slave, and you always obey my orders, don't you? Quite apart from the fact that you wouldn't dare bite slave Paul, because he might never let you near his pretty little slave-girl again, and you wouldn't like that, eh?

"On the other hand," she smiled sweetly, "if you don't obey my order to suck his cock, I may not let you near her again. No, not a word from you!" she said sharply as she began to adjust my bondage. "You'll do exactly as you're told -- after all, it can't do you any harm, can it?"

Before long she had me set up as she wanted: on my widely spread knees, with my wrists and elbows drawn tightly behind my back ... and with my face on a level with Paul's groin! I was hardly more keen on this idea than he was, but I seemed to have very little choice. And, as I looked at his cock standing erect a few inches from my mouth, I found myself wondering, on the one hand, whether she was really going to make me do it and, on the other, how it would taste!

My Mistress stood behind me, allowing me to lean slightly against her thighs and belly but (of course) preventing me from pulling away completely. She threw a long strap around Paul's waist and used it to arch his body forward until the head of his prick touched my lips. "Open your mouth, slave," she ordered, "and start licking ... or will I have to choke you until you do?" Bowing to the inevitable, I began to run my tongue over and around that hard purple cock-head, tasting the strange (but not really unpleasant) flavour.

After just a few minutes of this, my Mistress said, "Wider now, there's a good slave." I obeyed, she pulled on the strap and I felt Paul's organ slide deep into my mouth. It was long enough to reach right to the back of my throat, and thick enough to make my jaws ache; but I did my best, sucking, tonguing and using my teeth gently on the hard but tender flesh. And, of course, it wasn't hurting me at all!

In fact, in its own unpredictable way my submissive nature asserted itself and I even found this quite exciting ... especially as it only proved -- again! -- my utter subservience to my Mistress and her total control over me. And she was in control; it was she, not Paul, who thrust that cock in and out of my obedient (if not entirely willing) mouth; and it was she who ultimately determined what pleasure he got from me.

Several times, when she could see he was getting close to an orgasm, she withdrew his cock and squeezed it expertly to calm down his arousal. For me, these breaks provided some welcome deep breaths before accepting my 'living gag' again. And I was still worried: I dislike the taste of my own semen, and I wondered how I could stand Paul's hot liquid gushing into the back of my throat!

To my great relief, my Mistress didn't even let Paul come! "That's enough excitement for you, slave, for now at least," she grinned, reaching down to give his balls a gentle squeeze. "But you must admit it was an unusual experience; yet I suspect you enjoyed it more than a little! As for you," she smiled at me, "you did a pretty good job; I trust it didn't spoil your appetite for me!"

She unfastened the straps of my stringent bondage and, for about an hour, I was able to relax and simply watch. Paul, however, was given no respite; with hardly any pauses at all, my Mistress gave him a taste of a variety of bondage positions. She suspended him by his ankles; she forced him into a tight and very uncomfortable hogtie; she tied him face up over a 'horse', drawing his arms and legs down until his body was painfully arched; and she 'tortured' him on a rack, stretching him until even I thought he would twang!

During this bondage, she constantly tormented him, pinching, prodding and tickling his naked body. "See what it's like to be a slave?" she teased him; "You're completely helpless, aren't you, and I could do anything I want with you!" Most of all she fondled his cock and balls, keeping him at a high pitch of excitement but not letting him come. "I'll bet you've done this with your slave-girl," she grinned knowingly. "Now you know what it's like. This is my ultimate power over you: I'll decide when -- or if! -- you have your climax!"

In fact, however, Paul did have a say in when he came ... but (as my Mistress loved to arrange things) at the cost of some discomfort! She had tied him face up on a bench, but with little more than his shoulders resting on it -- his legs were drawn up and very widely apart. Standing over him, the crotch of her sexy costume inches from his face, she took a firm grip of his hard cock.

"OK, slave," she said. "I'm going to make you come soon, but I want you to hold out as long as you can. To give you some incentive, slave Peter will count slowly to 50; when you come, I'll give you the rest of the 50 with the paddle, so the longer you delay coming, the fewer paddle strokes you'll get. Right, slave Peter, start counting ... slowly ... that's good!"

I counted slowly and steadily, watching with great interest as my Mistress played with Paul's cock ... running her fingernail delicately along the underside of its shaft and around its head and stroking it with one or both hands, varying the speed and length of her strokes. Paul tried valiantly to delay his orgasm but (as I could have told him!) my Mistress is very skillful indeed at this; what with his bound helplessness to avoid any of her caresses, he did very well to last until my count of 21.

At the first spurt of fluid from his purple member, my Mistress signalled me to stop counting. She continued to pump while it released its load of come all over his chest and belly, then 'milked' it dry with very tight and slow strokes of her hand as it relaxed and became limp. Quickly wiping up the 'mess' with a towel, she commented drily, "You seemed to enjoy that. I hope you enjoy the rest of the count as much. Let's re-arrange you a little ..."

She slackened the ropes holding Paul's ankles but, as his legs began to lower, she forced them towards his head; then she passed a long strap under the bench behind his head and around his knees, and drew it tight until his knees were almost touching his shoulders. His buttocks were now raised high and tautly stretched ... a perfect target for the large paddle she swung experimentally as she took up a position to one side.

"We won't hurry this, slave Peter," she said. "All you have to do is count my strokes from where you left off. I'll vary the speed occcasionally just to keep slave Paul guessing. Ready?" And the first blow landed with a loud THWACK across Paul's bum.

I'm certain Paul didn't enjoy the remaining count from 22 to 50! At first he managed to limit himself to gasps and small grunts, but my Mistress' strong arm and good aim soon made his bum-cheeks a bright red and had him emitting loud cries, especially when she delivered three or four blows in quick succession. The fiftieth stroke brought the loudest cry, followed by an almost equally loud sigh of relief ... instantly cut short and replaced by two more "Ouch!"s as my Mistress planted an extra blow on the back of each thigh!

"A slave must never assume a whipping is over," said my Mistress sternly. "I might feel like going on for a long while, and you're utterly helpless to stop me, aren't you?" She grinned cheerfully down at Paul and elicited another small moan from him by running a fingernail lightly across the cherry-red flesk of his bottom. "As a slave, your only proper response when you think a whipping is finished, is to thank your Mistress for bothering to give it to you. You may now do so ... and you better sound as if you mean it!"

"Thank you, Mistress," replied Paul, managing to sound very sincere. "Thank you for paddling my bottom and teaching me about being a slave."

"Very good!" she said as she began to loosen the strap around his knees. "You're learning quite well ... and enjoying it too, I see!" She noted with a smile that his cock, so recently limp after his climax, was already showing signs of getting hard again.

He was allowed to rest for a few minutes while she set up some equipment; he knelt beside me, rubbing his bum-cheeks somewhat gingerly, and we watched and wondered how one or both of us would soon be bound to it. It was a roughly triangular frame, supported at the bottom two corners by hinges which were firmly fixed to the floor and a few inches above it. It also had plenty of attachments for fastening ropes or straps, but it was by no means obvious exactly how she intended to use it.

Paul was the "lucky slave" (as my Mistress put it!) to find out! He had to lie face-down partly under the frame and his shoulders were firmly fastened to its top with straps; his arms were pulled behind the side members and drawn tightly down towards the centre of its base. Then my Mistress used a number of straps, around his ankles, thighs, knees and hips, to bind his legs to the frame with his ankles crossed tailor-fashion. He was so immovably joined to it that, when my Mistress lifted it on its hinges, his naked body moved as if it were part of it.

She put a low bench under his chest so that his head was two feet or so from the floor, then sat on a cushion in front of him. "You weren't prepared to suck slave Peter's cock," she said sternly, "but I'm going to insist that you suck ... this!" From behind her back she produced a double-ended rubber dildo, flesh-coloured and shaped to look just like a real cock; and she lifted Paul's head by his chin until she could look into his eyes with an unspoken question.

After the merest hesitation, he nodded wordlessly. My Mistress smiled her approval and put the dildo's tip to his lips. "Now," she said as he opened his mouth to accept it, "I want you treat it as if were a real prick, slave Peter's for example. Remember how he licked and sucked yours earlier, and pretend to try to give him as much pleasure as he gave you."

I found the next twenty minutes or so very exciting, as I watched Paul's tongue run sensuously around the head of that rubber cock, and then his mouth open wide to accept its length deep into his throat. With a strange sense of unreality, I could almost imagine that I felt Paul's tongue and lips on my cock, which stayed hard throughout his performance. Several times, as she held the dildo for his busy mouth and occasionally pumped it just like a real man might thrust his cock, my Mistress caught my eye over Paul's head and grinned at me.

"OK, that's enough," she said at last. "Now take a few deep breaths, slave, because there's something else I want you to do with this ... ready? ... take it in nice and deep and grip it tight with your teeth ... now hold it like that." She stood up and, showing the remarkable strength I knew she had, pivoted Paul and the frame until he was resting face up on his shoulders. The dildo's other half protruded vertically from his mouth; before he had time to realise her intention, she knelt over his head, undid a catch at the crotch of her costume and lowered her pussy onto the dildo!

She gave him no instructions. She didn't need to, because he had no choice at all. He simply had to lie there, well gagged by one half of the dildo, and hold the other half up for my Mistress to use for her pleasure; he couldn't even push the dildo from his mouth, because her weight kept it there as she worked her cunt up and down on it, riding to her climax on his helpless face.

I knew that she thought this was one of the best ways to impress on a slave his true status and function, and I have no doubt Paul got the message. The frame raised his hips above the floor and the way he was bound had forced his hips upwards. My Mistress took advantage of this and, as she rode the 'cock' he held for her, she played with his cock and the rest of his naked body, so utterly available to her teasing, tormenting hands.

After about ten minutes she began to moan softly, and soon after that she put one hand down to her clit and brought on her climax, pressing down on Paul's face to force the dildo deep into her cunt. For thirty seconds or more, as she writhed in ecstasy, his nose would have been too firmly pressed into her crotch for him to breathe; and, when at last she rose and took the dildo from his mouth, his face was red and he gratefully took several gasping breaths.

"I quite enjoyed that," said my Mistress and grinned down at him. "It was a good start to your final and most important task of the night. But not here; our booking for this room is almost over, so we'll have to go back to my cabin." She untied Paul from the frame and allowed him a good rest while she, with my assistance, put away the room's bondage gear.

"Right," she went on when the room was tidy. "You're still my slave until the morning, so you'll come back to my cabin as a slave would ... naked and shackled!" Paul opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him with a sharp "No, no arguments! That's the way I want it; but I know you would rather not be seen by other Masters or Mistresses, so we'll use this ..." She produced a leather helmet from the bag she'd brought with her. "Up on your knees, now."

Paul obeyed, and soon his whole head was encased by the helmet -- except for his ears, nose and mouth. "Nobody could recognise you now," said my Mistress, but let's not take any chances. On the one hand, I don't want you shouting that you've been mistreated; on the other hand, you may not want to be recognised by your voice, if you're silly enough to say something. So open up ..." And she pushed a large ball-gag into his mouth and buckled it behind his neck.

"Now for your shackles," she went on. "On your feet, slave." The shackles she had chosen for Paul consisted of wrist cuffs fastened behind his neck, holding his arms up beside his head, and ankle cuffs with an 18-inch bar between them; she fixed the former, but made me get down on my knees to do the latter. Then she shackled me, simply with cuffs holding my wrists behind my back; and to these cuffs she fastened one end of a six-foot leash, clipping the other end to a ring on the collar of Paul's helmet.

Finally, she took a piece of card from her bag and held it up for me to see, putting a finger to her lips and smiling. In quite large letters, it read: "My friend behind me LOVES being fondled by strangers he can't see, but he's too shy to ask. My Mistress will be happy to give permission to anyone who asks her ... even slaves!" And at the bottom, in smaller print: "P.S. You may fondle me too, without even asking her!"

I found it hard not to burst out laughing when I read this, but I managed to control myself. My Mistress nodded approvingly and slipped the sign's cord around my neck (it was big enough to cover most of my chest!) and said brightly: "OK slaves, let's go. Just follow the tug on your leash, slave Paul, and don't worry; I'll help you when we come to stairs or anything.

"Oh hello, there!" she exclaimed as she opened the door. "What good timing, we're just leaving." As we left the bondage room, the Master waiting to use it naturally read the sign hanging from my neck and accepted its invitation with a broad grin. My Mistress agreed readily to his "May I?" and he subjected Paul's cock and balls to a thorough and quite rough handling.

Paul flinched quite noticeably when he felt the masculine hands on his private parts, but he was helpless to avoid them. I could imagine what must have been going through his mind as he realised that this was only the first of many such handlings he might have to endure! But of course he could do nothing but follow when, at my Mistress' command, I tugged on his leash to begin our walk to the 'safety' of her cabin.

To Paul, walking with his ankles spread apart, this walk must have seemed a lot longer than it really was. It was a good deal longer than it need have been, because my Mistress led us well out of our way in search of people to read the sign I was wearing! I'm sure it took us nearly an hour to reach her cabin, and in that time at least forty pairs of hands, including about a dozen belonging to slaves, had fondled his naked body.

Naturally, his cock and balls received the most attention. But some people also ran their hands all over him, and others were particularly interested in his buttocks, which were still quite red from the paddle and marked with deeper red spots from the spikes. (My Mistress' cleverness in shackling his wrists at his neck prevented him from even attempting to cover his bottom!) Several times there were three or four people around him and six or eight hands simultaneously stroking, pinching, tickling or otherwise handling him.

My Mistress was careful not to say the names of anyone who asked permission to handle Paul; obviously, this was intended to save him from embarrassment the next time he would see them in his normal role as a Master. But two or three Mistresses spoke to him, as they fondled his hard cock, suggesting that he ask Mistress Tina to loan him to them sometime -- "I'd soon cure your shyness!" said one. I wondered how he would react when he saw them next!

"Here we are at last!" said my Mistress when we reached her cabin. "That was quite a journey ... but it was an exciting one for you, slave Paul, wasn't it?" She reached down and fondled his cock, still hard and quite red from the handling it had received, and went on: "Now it's time for you to give me some excitement ... but first, I think we could all use a drink. Slave Peter, you'll serve them while I organise slave Paul."

She released my wrists for me to obey, then unshackled Paul's, only to re-fasten them behind his back palm-to-palm with a strap around his elbows as well. Next she removed his gag to allow him to drink from the glass I held to his lips. While we relaxed for a few minutes, she said to Paul, "I know you've seen me naked -- once; but now you're my slave, and I don't allow slaves to see my nakedness until they've proved themselves as slaves. You're only a temporary slave, so you'll wear that helmet while you serve me. OK, on your knees!"

It took her a moment only to strip off the costume she wore and lie down on her bunk. Soon Paul was hard at work with his tongue, giving her lovely naked body an all-over 'bath'; his ears, protruding from the helmet, were perfect 'handles' for her to guide him. At first I simply had to watch but, when she positioned Paul between her thighs and pushed his mouth into her pussy, she signalled me to take my place beside her and use my oral skills on her tits.

She kept Paul working for at least two hours, off and on; in that time, she must have had at least eight climaxes, some of which seemed to go on for minutes at a time. It was particularly interesting -- and exciting! -- for me, because I'd never before watched her climax except with my own mouth in her pussy (which provides a limited view at best!). At last she gasped "That's enough, slaves!" pushed us away and lay back to regain her breath.

A little later she put us slaves to bed. Paul was given the pallet, while I had to make do with a few rugs on the floor; on the other hand, I was allowed to sleep without shackles, while Paul was tied (quite comfortably) in such a way that he had to stay on his back with his wrists tied to his sides. "My slaves are expected NOT to play with themselves," grinned my Mistress as she arranged him, "but an untrained slave like you needs a bit of help to obey."

Paul didn't have to wear the helmet all night, though; my Mistress ordered me to remove it after turning out the lights. Although there was a very faint light coming from the porthole, he would only have been able to see the vaguest outlines of her naked body when, twice during the night, she knelt over his prone figure and pushed her pussy on to his mouth for a little extra fun.

I doubt if he slept much anyway, because he looked quite weary next morning. My Mistress untied him and sent him into the bathroom to have a shower; when he returned, she said "Time for your final inspection, slave. Let's see if you've learnt anything about being a slave; no shackles, but I want you to stand up straight, hands behind your head ... legs apart ... chest out ... stomach in!"

"Good!" she murmured as he obeyed. She began a careful examination of his naked body, running her hands over every inch of it. "No marks anywhere except here," she went on as she caressed his buttocks, causing him to wince slightly; "It'll be a bit tender for a day or so, but it won't show unless you strip right off!" Paul didn't move at all, even when she allowed me to 'inspect' him in the same way, and afterwards she said approvingly "Very good, slave; it looks like you did learn something last night."

Now she stood directly in front of Paul and began to fondle his cock and balls, thoroughly and intimately. "I've really enjoyed myself very much," she smiled, "and I do hope you enjoyed at least some of it. In any case, I trust there are no hard feelings ... although this does feel a bit hard right now!" She glanced down at his prick, standing out like a flagpole, and grinned at him. "Well, what do you say, slave?"

Paul grinned back and replied, "No, no hard feelings, Mistress."

"Not even when you see this?" continued my Mistress, holding up the sign from our walk last night. "It was hanging around slave Peter's neck on our way back here last evening."

Paul's eyes widened as he read it. "You ..." he began, but stopped himself; after a moment's thought he said, "Sorry, Mistress. But are you sure nobody recognised me?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure," she replied. "But even if someone did, you know how we are expected to respect the wishes of anyone who wants to be anonymous. Of course," she grinned, "if you want, I'd be happy to re-introduce you to anyone who showed an interest in you ... as well as those whose invitation you could take up yourself!"

"No thanks, Mistress," Paul grinned back. "If I may speak? It's been very interesting and most of it has been fun ... but I do prefer being a Master."

"Fine," replied my Mistress, giving his cock one last squeeze, then pinching both his nipples quite hard and finally delivering a sharp slap to his tender bum-cheeks. "Slave Peter and I are going into the bathroom to freshen up. Your clothes are hanging in the closet. See you at breakfast ... with your slave, of course, Master Paul!"

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 15: A Tale of Two Masters!

At breakfast Master Paul was his old self again. It was almost as if last night had never happened, except that once or twice he made a point of asserting his Master status over me, by squeezing my balls or pinching my nipple a bit harder than usual when I was too slow in serving him. My Mistress had warned me to expect this, as well as threatening me with severe punishment if I didn't behave properly; so I submitted meekly and pretended everything was normal.

Helen was back with us, of course, looking noticeably tired but still as bright-eyed and cheerful as always. The conversation between my Mistress and Master Paul consisted of speculations about what she might have got up to last night and what might have caused the various marks on her lovely naked body. Helen herself wasn't asked to explain -- not yet, anyway -- but her rapid breathing showed her excitement, either at what they were suggesting or at her memories of what actually happened.

She also noticed how Master Paul was treating me and once, when we were both fetching some food from the servery, she whispered to me: "I wish you could tell me what happened last night, but I know you can't. But I do hope Master Paul tells me about it sometime!" I whispered back that I hoped he would let her tell all of us about her adventures, and that I could hardly wait.

I didn't have long to wait. Immediately after breakfast my Mistress and Master Paul led us to a quiet, sunny corner on deck, where they settled down in deck-chairs side by side. Helen and I knelt beside our respective owners, so that our naked bodies were convenient to their roving hands; my wrists were shackled behind my back, but Helen's were left free.

"OK, slave-girl," said Master Paul. "We want to hear what happened to you last night, every detail that you can remember. We saw the raffle, so you can start just when your owners for the night led you away."

"Yes Master," replied Helen, and a slight blush coloured her cheeks. "Well, first of all, Master Tony and Master Ron tied two short leashes to my nipples with thin cords; they each held one while we wandered around for a while, and once or twice they teased me by pretending to want to go in opposite directions! We also stopped in a bar for a drink, and they made me hold their drinks for them ... on my breasts!"

In response to Master Paul's "How? Show us!", Helen lay face up on the deck and cupped her lovely big tits with her hands. "They untied my hands," she said, "to make it more comfortable for me to lie on the table between them and so that I could steady my boobs. Between sips, they stood their glasses right on my nipples ... and they were ice-cold! I wasn't allowed to touch the glasses with my hands, only keep my tits steady, and they said that, if I let a drink fall, they would put the ice from it into my cunt until it melted!

"But I didn't spill any," she continued proudly, returning to her place beside Master Paul at his gesture. "... even though I was getting quite excited by their conversation. They hardly spoke to me at all until we reached their cabin; instead they were discussing what they might do with me, but most of the things they said were in a sort of private code so I had hardly any idea about what would happen. When we continued our walk, they didn't re-tie my hands, but I had to keep them behind my back anyway.

"They had hardly touched me, either, by the time we arrived at their cabin. It's not a cabin, really, more like a suite with a bedroom and a large sitting room. Master Tony and Master Ron sat down in two big arm-chairs and told me to parade in front of them and show off my body for them." At this point Master Paul again told her to demonstrate as she talked.

"I was a bit shy at first," admitted Helen as she obeyed, a little self-consciously. "But they were very nice, and encouraged me," and she went on to describe -- and demonstrate -- how she'd paraded back and forth, displaying her gorgeous body to its best advantage and caressing herself all over. "My nipples still had the leashes tied to them," she said at one point, "and I had to untie them myself and then massage them quite hard ... and that hurts!" She winced realistically as she remembered.

"Next they made me take their clothes off," she continued, back on her knees beside Master Paul. "I had to do it slowly and sensuously and, when they were naked, I had to caress them all over for quite a long time. They both have nice bodies, slim but strong and well tanned, and I really enjoyed this bit!" she confessed with a cheeky grin at Master Paul. But she blushed deeply when he asked what their sex organs looked like; "I'm not sure I should tell you," she said, "They mightn't want other Masters or Mistresses to know."

"Did they order you not to tell?" demanded Master Paul. Helen shook her head, and he continued: "If they had, that would be different. But a Master or Mistress who borrows a slave has to expect that slave to tell its owner everything. Come on now, girl, spill the beans!" and he gently but firmly pinched her nipples.

"Well," said Helen, blushing again, "Master Ron's prick is really quite small, only about five inches long when it's hard; but Master Tony's is long, longer than yours I think, Master, but not as thick."

"I'm glad to hear it," grinned Master Paul. "But you needn't have worried, my dear, I wouldn't take it out on you even if they were twice my size. After all, half the male slaves we've seen on this trip seem to be bigger than your poor Master. But you still love me, don't you?" Helen nodded emphatically, and he told her to continue her story.

She obeyed: "Master Ron and Master Tony now decided to have a little contest to see which of them would 'have first use' of me. They had still hardly touched me, remember, and I was starting to wonder whether the stories the other slaves tell about them were all lies. But things began to change when they ordered me to kneel on a low table between their chairs with my knees spread as wide as I could and my hands grasping my ankles; and when they made me arch my hips up and forward, all my 'interesting parts' were easily available!

"They sat down and told me that the contest was to see which of them could make me climax first; they would take turns to play with me for a minute at a time, and whoever was actually touching me when I came would win. But first they blindfolded me so that I couldn't see who was playing with me (in case I had a preference for one of them) or even see where they were about to touch me.

"It was very exciting, because they were both very clever with their fingers. I couldn't even tell when each minute passed, they were so skilful at taking over from each other. Their fingers stroked my tits softly like feathers, rolled my nipples gently between them, trailed down my arched belly, and worked on my wide-open pussy and clit until I was tingling with pleasure ... yes, like that, Master!" She moaned softly as Master Paul's fingers briefly duplicated her descriptions.

"I don't think it could have been ten minutes before I had a climax," she smiled at Paul. "You know how easy it is to get me excited, Master. Anyway, the instant I came, the blindfold was whipped from my eyes and I saw Master Tony smiling down at me; Master Ron still had his fingers deep in my cunt and his thumb was rubbing my clit, and he grinned at me and said 'Looks like I win first use of you!'.

"I wondered what they meant by 'first use', but I didn't have to wait long to find out! It meant Master Ron got to fuck me first ... and had the choice of how to tie me for it! He said a code word to Master Tony, and within moments they had me tied the way he wanted; first I had to bend over a padded bench, then they tied ropes to my ankles and wrists and drew them up with pulleys until I was in a sort of hogtie, almost suspended but resting only on my belly.

"It wasn't very comfortable," she confessed with a wry grin, "but we're used to that, aren't we, Peter? I felt Master Ron moving between my thighs, which had been pulled well apart by the pulleys, and then I felt his cock slide into my pussy. At first he thrust slowly and gently, but gradually he got faster and more and more energetic; and all the time his hands were running up and own my thighs, over my bottom and back, underneath to my belly and clit and even across the bench to where my breasts were dangling.

"In fact, there were hands on my tits almost throughout this episode: not only did Master Ron screw me at one end but, just after he started, Master Tony stood at my other end and made me take his prick into my mouth! And he used his hands a lot, too, running them through my hair, up and down my stretched arms and all over my shoulders and tits.

"With all that stimulation, I guess I should have come several times; but I didn't -- I think the bondage was just a bit too strenuous for me to relax. Yet it was exciting, to be so tightly bound and to have two handsome men fucking me at once ... begging your pardon, Master!" Her cheeky grin at Master Paul turned suddenly into a squeal as he gave both her nipples a good pinch.

"It seemed like ages to me," she went on, "but I guess I couldn't have spent half an hour like that without feeling a lot stiffer than I do. Master Tony didn't let himself come in my mouth and eventually withdrew, saying he wanted to save himself for later. I was glad; now I could breathe easier, and I needed all the air I could get as the strain of my bondage got worse. And it was only a few minutes later that Master Ron grabbed my bottom with all ten fingers, gave an extra hard thrust ... and I felt his hot fluid spurting inside me.

"They untied me quickly after that and let me rest for a while and even gave me something to drink. But there's never much rest for us slaves, is there, Peter? Quite soon enough (for me, at least!) they had decided what to do with me next; they had set up a pillory, one of those things with holes to hold your neck and wrists ... only they put me in it backwards!"

At Master Paul's request that she explain, she said "I'll show you; it's easier than trying to describe it." She stood up and went to the ship's rail in front of us; with her back to it, she carefully bent over backwards until her neck rested on it, then placed her wrists on it too, a foot or so to each side of her head. Her lovely body was arched so invitingly, and her magnificent tits were pointed so proudly at the sky, it took my breath away ... and my Mistress' hand, which had been idly toying with my cock, suddenly tightened its grip!

"See what I mean?" said Helen, as if talking to the empty sky. "They seemed to like arching me back like this; does it make me look good or something?" The chorus of fervent "Yes!"s from her small audience made her break the pose, and her face was shining with pleasure at the compliment as she returned to her place beside Master Paul.

"You must have looked wonderful!" he said with quiet sincerity. "But tell us; what happened then?"

"Well, there I was," said Helen, "with my neck and wrists held by the holes in solid wood. I couldn't even see what they were doing; all I could see was the ceiling. I expected them to start teasing me or something, or maybe Master Tony would put his cock into my pussy; but then, without any warning, something hard slapped against one of my nipples and, an instant later, another one on the other nipple.

"My nipples were still tender from the cords earlier, and they hurt! But that was only the beginning; for a long time, at least an hour, they tormented my poor tits. Not being able to see, I never knew what was coming next. Sometimes they didn't touch me for minutes, then suddenly pinched one nipple ... hard! Or else they used some sort of multi-thonged small whip that made my breast sting all over -- that's what left all these fine red marks.

"I think each of them concentrated on one tit, and just did what they each wanted ... whether it was whipping both at once, or slapping one nipple while whipping the other, or whatever, but always they kept me guessing. Just once or twice, they startled me by cupping my pussy with a hand and ..." Helen smiled shamefacedly. "... it was wet! Because, in spite of my squeals of pain and protest, they weren't really hurting me; and it was so exciting to be so helpless and to be so cleverly tormented by two Masters at once!

"Afterwards, they again let me rest for a while and gave me a drink." Helen paused, then "Could I have a drink now, please, Master?" she asked. "I'm not used to talking so much, and my throat's getting dry." Master Paul agreed, and I was sent to fetch drinks all round from the nearest bar.

When we had all quenched our thirst, Helen took up her story. "The next thing they did with me," she said, "was really inventive! They fastened a padded bar behind my back by passing my arms over it and then tying a rope very tightly from one wrist and across my belly to the other wrist. This really makes my boobs stand out, as you well know, Master!" With a broad grin, she demonstrated what she meant ... and they did!

"I had to lie face down while they doubled my legs with wide straps holding my heels tightly up by my bottom; then they tied a rope from each knee to each end of the bar, pulling my thighs pretty widely apart, I can tell you! They left me lying there for a minute or two, with my face in the carpet and wondering what was in store. But I wouldn't have guessed in a hundred years!

"Suddenly I felt myself being lifted, by the bar behind my back! They are strong enough to lift me between them with no trouble at all ... and with only one arm each, as they demonstrated by each using one hand to caress one of my tits. Then they turned me around and I saw the real purpose of this unusual bondage -- in the middle of the floor stood a large cone-shaped thing about two feet high, and from its top protruded an enormous black rubber dildo at least fifteen inches long ... and thick!"

Helen hesitated, blushing more deeply than I'd ever seen her blush; but at Master Paul's gentle but firm insistence she continued: "I just can't describe how I felt, Master, when that huge thing disappeared below me. I couldn't see it, you see, my boobs were in the way ... but I certainly felt it, when Master Tony and Master Ron slowly lowered me until its tip was just inside the lips of my cunt.

"They were very patient with me, but also quite insistent. I protested that I couldn't possibly get that huge thing inside me, but they just said kindly, 'Let's just see, shall we?' Suddenly I realised how totally helpless I was, hanging from their bar with my knees spread so wide; and just as suddenly, I felt I could trust them utterly ... and everything changed! Now it seemed the most exciting thing in the world would be to have that huge dildo inside me!"

Now Helen's face was brightly flushed, but more with excitement than embarrassment, and her breathing was getting rapid ... as was mine, and I'm sure my Mistress' and Master Paul's too! At her last words my Mistress looked at me with the same expression that had baffled me last night; was there a clue in Helen's story to the message she seemed to be sending me?

But there was no time to wonder about that now. We listened raptly as Helen went on: "Slowly, very slowly, Master Ron and Master Tony lowered me, and steadily that gigantic imitation cock filled my cunt. But I could feel my arousal building just as steadily ... yet it was a different sort of arousal from any I've felt before.

"Several times I begged them to stop, because I thought I was about to split apart. Each time they waited a few minutes, talking to me quietly, relaxing me ... then ever so gently lowering me a little more. But at last they did stop, deciding I don't know how that I really was filled to bursting point. By this time I was almost past caring; I was barely aware of anything but my cunt, stretched and filled by that huge thing, in fact it felt as if it was filling my whole body, from my crotch right up to my throat!

"Suddenly I had the most amazing sensation; the dildo seemed almost to explode inside me! An instant later I realised that they had turned on a powerful vibrator inside it! But my cunt was stretched so tightly around it that the vibrations seemed to go right through me in waves -- especially into my clit. The excitement that had been building there sort of exploded too, in one of the most shattering orgasms I've ever had. There was just this one huge rush of pure pleasure ... then I passed out."

Helen's memories of the experience had obviously brought her close to a climax. Master Paul reached down and cupped his hand over her pussy, and she blushed as he brought it away soaking wet! But there was more playfulness than embarrassment in her grin when he commented, "Well, this is interesting, slave-girl. I've hardly touched your pussy, but you might bring yourself off just by talking! Let's see if you do. I won't caress your pussy any more ... and don't you dare try to help with your fingers!" he said sharply as one of her hands crept towards her pussy, seemingly of its own accord.

Cheekily, Helen poked her tongue out at him, but put her hands behind her back obediently before going on: "When I became aware of my surroundings again, I was stunned to see both Master Tony and Master Ron standing in front of me, their eyes shining with excitement. Did this mean, I thought, that the whole of that huge dildo was inside me and I was balanced on that cone? I was terrified of falling flat on my face ... or maybe even more terrified of causing an injury to my cunt on the dildo!..." She smiled sheepishly. "... and I opened my mouth to scream at them to hold me up.

"At exactly that moment, they both reached out and gripped my shoulders encouragingly, then gently lifted my chin until I saw two ropes from the ends of the bar leading to a pulley in the ceiling. I was still supported by the bar -- and I was suddenly conscious of my weight still resting on my arms! Later, I did finish up resting on the cone, my whole weight supported on my pussy ... but that was after some of the most bizarre -- and exciting! -- bondage I've ever been in!

"They lifted me up off that enormous dildo very slowly and carefully, and I realised that it hadn't done me any harm at all. What it had done, I discovered over the next hour or so, was to make it very easy for other smaller 'things' to slide inside me ... and I found that the walls of my cunt were incredibly sensitive to the touch of these things! And Master Tony and Master Ron knew it, too, because they sure capitalised on it!

"At least a dozen times they lowered me towards the cone, and each time they had a different gizmo fixed there for my pussy to meet!" She grinned a little shamefacedly as she remembered. "I don't think I came every time, but I'm sure I did more often than not, the unusual sensations were so exciting! Especially the feeling I'm getting so familiar with now -- of being helplessly bound and utterly unable to stop what's being done to me, even if I wanted to, which mostly I don't!

"I can hardly remember most of the gadgets I was lowered onto," she went on. Then "No, please, Master," she begged as Master Paul started to tell her to try; "I promise I'll try my best to remember them all, sometime when we've got paper and pen for me to check them all off by the feeling they caused. You see, most of them I didn't even see; they put them under me from behind and, the way I was tied, I couldn't look right underneath myself because of my big boobs!" And she blushed prettily as Master Paul cupped her gorgeous 'big boobs' in his hands and told her that he liked them just the way they were.

"I'll tell you about the three I remember best. The first one they showed me was a stubby arrangement, a sort of knob with lots of thin cords trailing from it; then one of them snapped a switch, and it turned into a windmill of cords spinning vertically in both directions! I stared at it in horror, but Master Tony patted me and assured me that it wasn't as bad as it looked and wouldn't really hurt me.

"And it didn't ... well, hardly at all. As they lowered me towards it, the cords started hitting my pussy lips, then my clit from one direction and my anus from the other; just before my pussy actually reached the 'wheel', some of them even got up as high as my belly." She showed us a few tiny marks just above her thatch of pussy hair and continued: "They only lowered me far enough for the 'wheel' to get just between my pussy lips and left it there ... and ... and ... it felt like lots of tiny fingers running from my clit through my pussy to my bottom and back again ... incredibly fast!"

She paused for a moment, breathing quickly. "The most bizarre thing of all was when they turned me around and around several times, causing the ropes above me to twist together and lift me higher. Then Master Tony held me while Master Ron put a new gizmo on the cone (I didn't see this one, so I can't tell you what it looked like) and adjusted the pulley until it was just inside my pussy lips. I should have seen what was coming, but I didn't ... Master Tony suddenly let go and the ropes unwound, spinning me around and lowering me at the same time!

"Now I know what it's really like to be screwed!" Helen delivered this line with a deadpan expression and in a serious tone, but broke into a brilliant smile as we all acknowledged her joke with loud guffaws. "Or should I say cork-screwed?" she went on (more laughter), "because that's the only way I can describe it. I don't know if the gizmo was shaped like that, or if it was just that I wobbled as I spun down on it, but it felt like a giant corkscrew worming its way into me. The bit of giddiness caused by the spinning, plus the unusual sensation in my cunt, gave me another climax ... which seemed to go on for ages because the two Masters stood at each end of the bar and spun me back and forth and back and forth, grinning with delight and with their cocks like flagpoles!"

Helen had to pause for breath again here. I was glad she did because I was rapidly reaching the point of no return ... thanks to her story and my Mistress' hand fondling my cock quite unconsciously! Fortunately she noticed my state just in time to squeeze my prick's head and save me the embarrassment of spurting my load over her ... not to mention the almost certain punishment this would have led to!

"The other gizmo I'll tell you about," said Helen when we'd all calmed down, was the last. This one they did show me, and it looked pretty horrible -- a U-shaped thing about a foot from tip to tip, with lots of knobs and sharp-looking points on the inside of its curve; from the middle protruded a very realistic dildo. At that point the U was about four inches wide, but one end narrowed quickly to less than two inches, while the other end flared out to about ten.

"I felt the dildo going into my cunt, and tensed myself for the other knobs and points pressing into my flesh. When they did, it was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I'd expected ... even when I felt the ropes go slack and the strain disappear from my arms. I was resting right on my pussy! The Masters untied the ropes on my wrists and removed the bar I'd hung from, then told me that now I ought to be able to balance by myself, saying that they wanted me not to use my hands for support.

"I discovered this wasn't as hard as it sounds. The two ends of the U, the narrow one going up between my bottom cheeks, the wide one up to my belly, gave some support against overbalancing; and with the bar gone, I could use my knees to clutch the sides of the cone. My knees were nearly as far apart as before, my ankles were still tied to my thighs (which meant I was still utterly helpless to escape!), but I was quite proud of the way I obeyed my orders. I even put my hands behind my neck and pushed out my tits ... like this!" Her demonstration brought some goggle-eyed stares from two passing Masters!

"The Masters loved it!" she went on, quite unabashed. "They caressed my tits -- and the rest of me! -- and both gave me a big hug and kiss, telling me that my 'performance' on their 'invention' was as good as any slave-girl they'd ever had! All this attention and compliments made it a lot easier to take the twenty minutes or so I had to 'sit' there on my pussy, but I really appreciated the drink they gave me. And speaking of drinks, Master, may I have another?"

This meant another trip for me to the nearby bar. It gave me an opportunity to calm down a little ... already I was again getting too close to an orgasm! On the way there I was sorely tempted to find a private corner and bring myself off, but I resisted the temptation; whether through my Mistress' good training or because I was simply afraid of being seen and perhaps punished, I don't know! On the way back I held an ice-cold beer bottle against my cock to help reduce the heat that Helen's story was arousing there.

Her thirst quenched, Helen continued her story: "Eventually my two Masters released the straps holding my heels against my bottom, and very carefully helped me up off the cone. I couldn't stand up at all, my legs were so numb and stiff, and it took a lot of massage and exercising before the Masters thought I was ready for more 'games' (as they put it). Then they wasted no time, and before I knew it I was in bondage again!

"This time I had to rest my shoulders face down on sort of narrow stool about a foot high and a strap was fastened over my back to hold me there. Next I felt ropes being tied to my ankles, and a moment later they were pulled up and apart until I must have been at about a 45 degree angle with my ankles spread about as wide as they could go. My hands and arms were free, but I was just as helpless as if they'd been bound with a hundred turns of heavy rope!

"The next thing I knew, a pair of feet appeared before my eyes, then legs and knees and thighs as Master Ron wriggled under the stool supporting me. The purpose of this became obvious when he stopped with his hips directly under my face and, without needing to be told, I bent my head and started licking his cock. It got hard quickly as my tongue aroused him, and perhaps also as his hands started caressing my belly and sides and cupping my tits hanging so convenient for him. He told me to run my hands over his prone naked body and over my own too ... as well as using them on his crotch and balls and prick.

"His prick, as you made me tell you, Master," Helen grinned at Master Paul, "is quite small; and I had no trouble getting all of it in my mouth and I could still run my tongue around it! ... which is something I can't do with yours, or with your slave's, Mistress Tina, when it's so big and hard as it is now! This was quite exciting in its own way, but I think I really prefer to suck on bigger cocks like yours. Master Ron was finding my efforts quite exciting too, because he was soon making all the right noises!

"By the way, Master Tony wasn't exactly idle all this time, either! No sooner had I started eating Master Ron, than I felt his hands starting to play with my pussy and crotch and thighs and bottom. For a moment I wondered whether he'd figure some way of screwing me from both ends like before, but he didn't. Instead his touch was very gentle on my pussy and I think he even smoothed some soothing ointment on it, which felt very good after all the stretching and so on it had had on the cone. But he did surprise me a few times (four to be exact) by using some sort of thin cane without any warning at all on the insides of my thighs. See?" And she spread her legs very wide to show us two thin livid bruises on each thigh, all within three inches or so of her pussy lips!

Back in her place beside Master Paul, she went on: "Unlike Master Tony earlier, Master Ron did come in my mouth. I dutifully swallowed the hot juice he spurted into my throat, then milked him dry with my hands and lips and licked him clean. He gave my tits a last fondle, then wriggled out from under me. I waited, wondering what would happen next; there was more to come, I was certain, because Master Tony hadn't fucked me yet.

"And I didn't have to wait long for him to do it!" she grinned. "Incredibly quickly, they undid the strap over my shoulders, swung me under my suspended ankles and up onto a narrow bench they slid under my back. Even before Master Ron had tightened the first of a number of straps which would hold me rigid on the bench, Master Tony was guiding his long slim prick into my cunt, which was positioned at exactly the right height for him, and started to thrust in long slow strokes.

"He didn't miss a beat while Master Ron fastened the other straps over my body, drew my arms apart above my head and lowered my legs until I was in a very taut horizontal spreadeagle. If they take the bench from under me, I remember thinking, I probably won't even sag, my arms and legs were stretched so tight ... but I'm glad they didn't! And now Master Tony changed the rhythm of his thrusts; drawing his long weapon back very, very slowly until it was almost outside my cunt, he then thrust forward so quickly and forcefully that the base of his cock slapped loudly against my pussy. If I hadn't been so tightly tied, I think I would have bounced right off his cock again!"

Helen paused, her breathing again rapid and her cheeks flushed; and my Mistress applied a timely squeeze to the head of my cock ... averting another potentially untidy embarrassment! But Master Paul wanted to see if Helen could bring herself off with just her own words -- and memories! -- and ordered her to go on immediately.

She obeyed, like the perfect slave she was: "It was just amazing, how Master Tony kept up the same 'slow back, slam forward' rhythm for ages ... at least an hour, I'm certain. It must have been tiring, so he was obviously pretty fit, but I couldn't see how he could possibly last so long; also, I suddenly thought, why wasn't I getting more excited? Master Ron explained this some time later, when he told me quietly that the ointment Master Tony had spread on my pussy earlier was a cream that numbed the nerve endings a bit -- both his and mine! -- and it would wear off in less than an hour.

"But there was no ointment on the rest of my body!" grinned Helen. "Master Ron proved this by caressing me from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers, ducking under my outstretched arms and legs as he moved around me. With his hands, his lips, even his cock and balls, he covered every inch of me that he could get at ... except the area within six inches of my clit! He did this without a moment's pause for over half an hour, and by that time I seemed to be tingling all over -- especially where he'd drawn his fingernails along the tightly-stretched tendons in my legs and arms!

"Then he decided to concentrate on my tits. Carefully, taking all the time he wanted, he wound many, many turns of smooth cord around each boob, until they were shaped like cylinders rather than globes and my nipples and aureoles were distended and engorged with blood. They were still sensitive from the treatment in the pillory earlier and, when Master Ron flicked them quite gently with his fingers, the sensation was intense enough to make me twitch violently. But twitch was all I did; I was tied far too tightly to actually move even the tiniest bit!

"Master Ron kept this up steadily, sometimes synchronising his flicks with Master Tony's thrusts, sometimes giving them quite out of rhythm. This, and all the other sensations I was feeling, were so unusual that I was starting to get excited, in spite of the numbing cream. But suddenly I realised that I was really feeling Master Tony's prick more distinctly inside me! The cream's effects were wearing off; gradually, steadily, my arousal was building in my pussy and clit.

"Gradually, Master Tony was changing his rhythm, too; his forward thrusts got less violent, his withdrawals a bit quicker, until he was moving back and forth in a steady smooth pattern. It seemed I could feel every inch of his long slender cock as it moved in up to its hilt and out until only its tip was inside me; and my arousal mounted steadily as he steadily increased the speed of his thrusts until he was moving so fast I could barely believe it ... and still stroking with the full length of his cock!"

Helen was almost panting now, and her words were tumbling over each other in her haste to get them out. It looked as if Master Paul might have his wish!

"Suddenly," babbled Helen, "just before a new thrust forward, Master Tony stopped dead; he paused for a good ten seconds, seemed to take a deep breath, then smiled down at me and, more slowly than ever, thrust his long cock into me to its full depth. He actually started to come precisely as he began this thrust, and I swear I distinctly felt every spasm of his climax and every drop of juice he spurted into me!

"When he finished that slow thrust, he leaned forward with all his weight ... which pushed his cock just that little bit deeper! This, and his weight now pressing on my frantic clit, pushed me over the top into another fantastic orgasm! And just then Master Ron gave my over-sensitive nipples a sharp pinch and made me howl with the incredible mixture of pain and pleasure. Then Master Tony just lay on top of me, put his hands behind my head and gave me ... one ... long ... sexy ... kiss ... while-we-both-came-down-to-earth."

After a few words separated by a series of breathless pants, Helen blurted the last bit in a furious rush. She smiled shyly at Master Paul and said, "I nearly did come there, Master, but not quite. I'm not sure if I wanted to, to please you, or wanted not to, to prove I could control myself."

"Don't worry, slave-girl," said her Master with a smile that was full of love. "Either way, you please me; just watching you and listening to you has been one of the sexiest experiences of my life! But go on, go on, your story's not finished yet; maybe there's still time to prove my little theory."

Helen flashed him a brilliant smile of appreciation for his beautiful compliment; but she begged him, "Oh please Master, won't you let me calm down a bit? The rest is really a bit of an anti-climax."

"It was almost a post-climax," interjected my Mistress drily. Helen blushed charmingly, but smilingly acknowledged her Freudian slip. Master Paul laughed appreciatively, and then topped my Mistress' comment.

"But it won't be a pre-climax, my girl!" he said seriously, and we all laughed again. "I won't go back on what I said earlier, so don't expect me to touch you until you've either come or calmed down a lot. As for your fingers ... turn around!" Helen obeyed, and he shackled her arms wrist-to-elbow high on her back. "So ... if you want to get full benefit out of the excitement your story has built up, it'll have to happen by your words alone. Now go on!"

"Yes Master," said Helen meekly; but then her irrepressible spirits broke though again and she turned a disarming look on my Mistress. "My Master's being cruel to me today, don't you think, Mistress Tina? You wouldn't treat your slave like this, would you?"

"Don't answer that, Tina!" interrupted Master Paul. To Helen he said, through almost clenched teeth (although I could still see a hint of a loving smile!), "I won't say this again: go ... on ... with ... your ... story!"

Although she responded instantly with "Yes Master, I'm sorry," it was clear from Helen's demeanour that she wasn't afraid in the slightest, and that she would have been quite willing to take the consequences, had she chosen to keep playing the game of cheekiness and disobedience. She continued her tale, but the atmosphere of sheer eroticism had dissolved, replaced by another but hardly less potent eroticism -- that of a Master and his very sexy and spirited, but not totally submissive, slave!

"That was the last of the 'games' for the evening," she told us. "And I wasn't sorry. I was exhausted! After all, I'd been very thoroughly fucked by two sexy men, I'd been tied up in a number of pretty strenuous ways, my tits had been whipped (not severely, I'll admit) and tightly bound, my pussy had been penetrated by a large number of strange gadgets as well as two real pricks, and I'd had more orgasms than I could remember, let alone count! My two Masters let me have a shower, then we had a cosy and delicious supper.

"Then we went to bed ... to sleep! Or, at least, to get some sleep! They pushed their two beds together, and then they tied me in the middle, face up with my legs apart and my arms above my head. Not too tight, but still not the most comfortable way to sleep, but sleep I did, like a log ... in between the times when one Master or the other would wake up and fondle me a bit!

"We got up very early this morning. They said they like to have an early breakfast, served by their raffled slave, before having to return me before the normal breakfast time. Naturally, they sent me to the kitchens to fetch their standing order; they cuffed my wrists behind my back and hung a sign from my nipples with spring clamps. It read 'Temporary Property of Master Ron and Master Tony' and I thought it was sweet that they need to advertise this, because they don't have a permanent slave."

She grinned a little wryly. "I soon discovered it meant something quite different! Being shackled and unaccompanied, I expected the odd fondle from a Master or Mistress, but it was slaves who took advantage of me! So early in the morning, they were mainly crew slaves cleaning and so on; but there seemed to hundreds of them, and they nearly all gave my tits or twat or both a good feel. And when I reached the kitchen, I was handed -- or should I say handled? -- around the whole kitchen crew! Two or three of them said things like 'Your first time with the terrible twins? Was it exciting?' or 'Wish it was my turn to go in the raffle; I'd love them to win me!'

"When I got back to the Masters' cabin, they asked what had kept me so long. I told them; they grinned a bit sheepishly and confessed that this was a little joke they like to play on their 'first night' slaves. Apparently all the crew slaves know they're allowed to fondle Master Ron's and Master Tony's 'temporary property', and some more regular slave passengers as well. While I served them their breakfast, they also asked me not to spill all the details of the evening to any female slaves, especially ones whom they haven't won in a raffle yet. And I haven't, have I?" said Helen with a grin, "even if you did twist my arm and get other secrets out of me, Master!"

Master Paul grinned back. "You're a cheeky wench," he said. "I told you you didn't have to tell if they really wanted it kept a secret. Well, you have had a time of it since yesterday, haven't you? First being eaten by a Mistress, no less, then the indignity of being fondled by lots of slaves ..."

Something made him glance across at my Mistress; she held his eye for just a moment and smiled ever so slightly. He knew exactly what she was thinking, that last night he'd been fondled by a number of slaves himself! Blushing just a little, he covered his momentary confusion by saying to Helen, "Well, is that it, slave-girl? Is there anything more you want to tell us?"

Helen hadn't noticed this interplay; hardly surprising, because Master Paul was looking away from her and it was so quick that I'd noticed only because I too knew what my Mistress was thinking. "They did say two other things," she said. "One was that they could promise a different, but just as interesting evening if I ever come on another cruise and they win me in a raffle again; so when's our next cruise, Master?"

She looked up at Master Paul, her eyes bright, then went on without waiting for his reply: "The other was that, once in a while, they pick a male slave from the raffle; what they do with him, I don't know, it would obviously be different, but it could be just as exciting. D'you think your Mistress might let you go in the raffle tonight, Peter?"

"No such luck, I'm afraid," said my Mistress with exaggerated sadness. "Tonight's the last night of this cruise, and there won't be a raffle. But, if we ever do come again, and those two Masters are on board, I might consider such a request from you, slave ... if you really want to!"

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 16: A Quiet Afternoon?!

Master Paul kept Helen's hands tied behind her back for the rest of the morning, and not once did he fondle her pussy! She even had to eat her lunch directly from his fingers, as she knelt obediently beside his chair. Of course, this meant extra work for me, because I had to serve food and drink to both my Mistress and Master Paul -- but I didn't mind this too much ... especially as I was rewarded with a lot of pleasant caresses (intended, I'm sure, to remind Helen of what she was missing!).

After lunch Master Paul said that he and his slave-girl were both very tired and needed a siesta. To my Mistress' remark that he was looking for more than a siesta, he merely grinned and they retired to his cabin and left my Mistress and me to amuse ourselves.

And amuse ourselves we certainly did! My Mistress decided to get involved in some more of the "slave games" that were always in action on board; and she soon discovered that there was a "triple event" about to start for "mixed slave pairs". Even with Helen absent, she had no difficulty in finding me a partner; slave crew members were always on hand for this very purpose!

The slave-girl she chose for me was a slim and lovely young woman, whose naked body was a distinct contrast to that of my constant companion of the past few days. Her name was Wendy and she was as tall as me, with an almost boyish figure and quite small breasts -- but with large aureoles and prominent nipples. She smiled shyly at me as she stood in front of my Mistress, waiting for orders.

(We had some opportunities to chat, while waiting for our turn to compete, and she told me that this was her first cruise; she'd learnt of it from a previous passenger, and she'd volunteered as crew without having any specific "owner". As a result, she'd spent a lot of time in the rôle she was filling with me. Although she had enjoyed it, she didn't intend to continue in the same way -- she was hoping that a certain officer might "take her on" as his semi-permanent slave!)

Our first "event" was another game of deck quoits! In groups of four, we male members of the twenty teams were arched backwards over the low benches and our cocks were fastened to the vertical "target" rods. I was in the fourth group and, by the time my turn came, my cock hardly needed the support of the rod ... it was fairly twitching at the thought of the humiliating discomfort of an accurately thrown quoit!

But I never expected quite what I got! Wendy's time "filling in" for games like this had obviously been well spent; the practice (added to some natural sporting ability, I'm sure!) enabled her to post a perfect score. Ten quoits in succession, tossed quite hard to improve her accuracy, smacked against the underside of my cock and spun and settled around it. In fact, at least six of them made contact first with my balls, which led to my being in considerable discomfort by the last!

My discomfort was eased a little by what happened next. Each slave-girl, as a "reward" for throws that had scored, was allowed to present her pussy to her team-mate's mouth ... for three minutes for every scoring quoit! So I spent the next half hour with my tongue and lips busy between Wendy's smooth thighs as she knelt over me. Her little moans of pleasure were accompanied by the murmur of voices excitedly spreading the news of her feat, which no-one present remembered having been done before.

After this "delay", Wendy and I were the last team to attempt the next event; and we had quite an audience, eager to see if we could continue scoring so well. This time it was my turn to try my hand at a variation on the common cruise-ship game of shuffleboard.

Wendy's slim naked body was fastened, spreadeagled to a frame, facing me at the other end of the shuffleboard court. On the court at her end was drawn the rough outline of a spreadeagled body, and my object was to slide the discs and have them stop on that outline. But the twist peculiar to this cruise was: after each of my shots, Wendy's frame was tilted so that she was lowered face down onto the discs to determine my precise score ... and each disc was topped with a spring-loaded clamp (a bit like a mousetrap) which could grip whatever part of her body it contacted!

I disappointed the watching audience rather badly ... and my Mistress, of course, who was hoping we could establish an unbeatable lead. Wendy, on the other hand, was partly relieved that I scored only five points out of the possible thirty; one disc clamped itself to a thigh, another to her belly (for one point each), but a lucky one scored three by getting a tight grip right on her left nipple, bringing a loud squeal of pain. My "reward", not unexpectedly, was five minutes of very skilful and pleasant attention from Wendy's mouth on my (still slightly aching) prick!

The final event was a race, with all teams competing together. By the time Wendy had completed my "reward", my Mistress had already checked the scores and had calculated that (thanks to Wendy's perfect score with the quoits) we still had a chance to win overall, so long as we finished no worse than fifth in the race and ahead of a certain other team. Excitedly, she told us which team to watch and urged us to try our best for her.

Meanwhile we were being prepared for the race. They called it a "slave-barrow" race, and it required Wendy to walk on her hands while I held her legs like I would a wheel-barrow. Her wrists and my ankles were shackled by quite short chains, exactly the same length as all the teams wore. As these were being fitted, I became aware how close my cock was to Wendy's pussy, with her long slim legs spread to either side of my hips; it instantly got hard, and the temptation was strong to simply pull her closer and plunge it deep inside her.

But the temptation itself was removed by the final touch in our bondage for the race: over the cock of each male slave was fitted a long, stiff (but still flexible) rubber tube, like an oversized dildo, held in place by fastenings around our balls; then the other end of the tube was carefully but firmly pushed deep inside the cunts of our female "barrows"! The impression this gave, of me screwing my slave-girl companion with my super-long prick, brought me a deep thrill, mainly of humiliation but also, I had to admit to myself, of sheer erotic excitement.

The race itself provided more excitement -- and not caused only by how I thought I looked! As we hobbled as quickly as we could in our restrictive shackles, the springy "dildo" gave me more than a little purely physical stimulation; it got harder and harder to concentrate on the race and, by the time we'd completed the four laps across the wide deck, I was almost on the point of a climax.

Partly because of this, we didn't achieve the target my Mistress set us. We did manage to finish fourth, but I lost sight of our main rivals and discovered too late that they were ahead of us, and in fact finished second. My Mistress was waiting for us just past the finishing line; she smiled and told us that she was proud of us anyway, and reached down to give my cock a quick fondle.

"No please, Mistress!" I gasped; she instantly recognised the full significance of my rapid breathing and flushed face, and changed the intended fondle into a firm squeeze through the tube on the head of my cock, helping me to avoid the orgasm I really didn't want just then. As it happened, it was a good thing she did; a few moments later the officer organising the race announced the placings ... and added that these were subject to penalties if any male slave was found to have climaxed during the race!

Four of us had. When the dildoes were removed and the "offenders" revealed, they stood slightly shamefaced but not at all repentant, and actually enjoyed the sensation of having their cocks cleaned by their team-mates' willing tongues! And, to my Mistress' glee, one of them was our main danger for the overall score; they were relegated to seventh place in the race and we were officially placed third overall, giving us a clear win overall by several points!

The final result was announced, and my Mistress accepted the first prize of several bottles of champagne. She made a little speech of thanks, and offered to open the champagne and share it around. The organising officer accepted on everybody's behalf and sent for glasses, but then he went on: "Your pair of slaves won't be wanting any, because their traditional reward for winning is to be allowed to screw while we all watch and cheer them on ... if you approve, of course."

My Mistress was quite surprised, but she hid it well. For my part, I was utterly stunned, not only by the idea but also by her casual reply: "Yes, fine by me..." She paused, looking at me with a very obvious question in her smiling eyes.

I stared at her. I opened my mouth to protest, but no sound came out. She covered my confusion by smiling encouragingly and saying for the benefit of her audience: "My slave's a little shy; let me see if I can persuade him." Leaning towards me, she put her lips very close to my ear; her voice was so low that no-one else could possibly hear, but its tone was like ice.

"The other night, slave," she whispered, "you said you understood something, but maybe you really didn't, in which case I'll have to explain it again, won't I?... after what will probably be the severest whipping I've ever given you. And I'll repeat the explanation -- and the whipping -- until you show me you really do understand. Right now, it's your choice and I won't force you, because this hasn't come up by my decision; however, I have given my approval, and a slave should treat his Mistress' approval as if it was a direst order, shouldn't he? Trust me; you'll enjoy it!"

To my amazement, I suddenly felt I would enjoy it! Still unable to speak, I managed to give my Mistress a small but definite nod. She responded with one of her most dazzling smiles for me and a cheerful "He says Yes!" for the waiting audience. A small cheer went up, and a few moments later I found myself in the centre of a wide circle, face to face with Wendy.

We were told not to start until all the Masters and Mistresses had a glass of champagne ... which gave us a few minutes to talk quietly between ourselves. Out of my still dry throat, I asked "Have you done this before?" and Wendy smiled and said "Yes, but only in front of other crew slaves. Don't worry, it is fun! How would you like to do it?" When I could think of no answer to that, she went on, "Well, we're the same height; it should be easy to do it standing up. OK?"; to which I could only agree!

A few moments later my Mistress called softly, "OK, slaves, the stage is all yours!" Still hesitating, I stared at Wendy ... then suddenly her arms were around my neck, her lips were on mine and her tongue was probing deep into my mouth. Almost without my volition, my own arms went around her and pulled her slim naked body against mine. With the ice broken (as it were) in this way, the rest was quite easy and very enjoyable; what's more, we gave our audience a show that they could enjoy, too!

After that first long and very sexy kiss, during which we caressed each other's backs and sides, Wendy gently pulled her lips away and whispered, "I'm going to lick and nibble my way down to your nice prick; just relax and enjoy for a while!" So I did, although it wasn't easy; what she did with her clever lips and teeth and tongue over my chest and belly, on my nipples and, finally, all over my rock-hard organ, was almost enough to make me scream!

With Wendy busy on her knees on front of me, I was very aware of our audience, intently watching every move, and I didn't want them to think I lacked the self-control to perform adequately. Eventually I had to stop Wendy, otherwise we might have disappointed them badly; I pulled her to her feet and murmured, "My turn now, and yours to relax and enjoy." She nodded smilingly, and allowed me to start working my way slowly down her slim body with my mouth.

The next few minutes were at least as much fun for me as the past few. I ran my tongue down the curves of her lovely neck, then started covering her small firm tits with tiny kisses; and when I started rolling her prominent nipples between my fingers and then my teeth, she began to utter little cries of pleasure. But I had another destination in view, and eventually moved my mouth and tongue from those nipples and proceeded over her flat belly to the thatch of curls between her long thighs.

While my face was buried there, I was aware that Wendy was using her own fingers to continue the stimulation I'd started in her nipples. What with that and the eager attentions of my tongue in her pussy and on her clit, she was soon moaning quite loudly and beginning to writhe slightly in arousal. Suddenly, she pulled away from me and said, "I'm nearly ready to come, but I want your cock inside me first." She spread her thighs apart and, without a trace of embarrassment, used her fingers to separate her pussy lips.

I needed no second invitation -- by now I wouldn't have cared if a thousand had been watching! And I was quite proud of the way I managed to rise to my feet and, almost in the one motion, slide my rigid cock deep into Wendy's moist love-tunnel. We clutched each other's buttocks firmly, leaning slightly apart, and began to move our hips...

Wendy climaxed after my first two thrusts, but she certainly didn't consider it was all over. Her slimness and athleticism enabled her to rotate her pelvis in an incredibly exciting way; I only had to thrust gently back and forwards to get all the stimulation I needed. And, by the way she was still moaning softly and panting, she was building up to a second orgasm before long.

My climax arrived first and, as I felt myself going past conscious control, I began to thrust more and more vigorously, until I think Wendy was being lifted right off her feet on each thrust. But she didn't lose her balance and her hips continued to rotate and give me extraordinary sensations. And she even sensed when I was on the point of coming; at the precise moment, she hooked her arms underneath mine and stopped herself being lifted, forcing my cock even deeper inside her as it spasmed and spurted.

Nor did she relax when my climax was spent; instead, I felt the muscles in her pussy tighten and grip my cock very firmly. Then she pressed against me and started to twist her hips faster than ever, rubbing her clit against the bone above my cock. After only a minute or so, she climaxed again, this time letting out a piercing scream of ecstasy which she cut short by clamping her lips on mine and clutching my head to hers, almost painfully.

A moment later there was a loud roar of applause from our audience; we had clearly entertained them! Next I heard my Mistress' voice saying, "That was very good, slaves; now just lean your heads back and open your mouths." We obeyed, and were 'rewarded' with a generous swallow of champagne from the bottle she held. Some of it dribbled down our chins and between our naked bodies; but I didn't care, and neither did Wendy, judging by the sparkle in her eyes and the contented smile on her lips.

We were allowed to use a nearby shower to clean ourselves off. Afterwards Wendy thanked my Mistress -- and me! -- for (as she put it) "a very very enjoyable game", then excused herself to see to her other duties. I was alone with my Mistress, who looked at me with an expression of such love and ... and ... something else I couldn't fathom, that I could say nothing and only smiled.

Later we were simply relaxing beside the pool, when Mistress Erica found us and reminded my Mistress of the little 'debt' that Helen and I had promised to pay to her and her slave. "With the cruise ending tomorrow morning," she said, "it leaves only this afternoon or late tonight, after the closing ball. I'd prefer now, if it's convenient for you ... otherwise I think we'll forget it."

"No, that's fine by me," replied my Mistress. "You might have to be content with just my slave, though; Paul and his slave are taking a nap, after a rather tiring night last night! But we could try phoning his cabin, couldn't we?"

She did so and, after hanging up, turned to Mistress Erica with a smile. "It's OK with Paul, too," she said. "His slave will be waiting for you outside his cabin. Off you go then, slave," she went on to me, "show Mistress Erica the way. I'll see you at my cabin in time to bathe and dress me for dinner."

Wondering what the next hour or two held in store, I obediently led Mistress Erica to Master Paul's cabin. Sure enough, Helen was waiting, looking as lovely as ever and a good deal fresher than when I last saw her.

"There you are!" said Mistress Erica with a smile. Then her voice changed subtly; it was still quite soft, but now it held the unmistakeable tone of authority that I'd noticed a few days ago. "Follow me ... and no talking!" she ordered, and Helen and I found ourselves obeying without question.

We were both unshackled and, as we walked along behind the tiny figure of Mistress Erica, it occurred to me that we would easily be able to overpower her if we had wanted to. I could have done it myself ... yet not for a moment did I consider doing it! Which led me think about what really distinguishes Masters and Mistresses from slaves; not size and strength, certainly!

Mistress Erica took us to one of the bondage rooms; once inside, she ordered us to stand stiffly at attention, back-to-back, and to wait without moving or speaking while she went to fetch her own slave. And the steel in her soft voice was enough to keep us rigid for the ten minutes or so she was gone ... although we did exchange a few whispers! (Helen said she and Master Paul had actually slept like logs and she was ready for anything!)

When Mistress Erica returned with her slave, she looked us over very carefully. She seemed satisfied that we hadn't moved, but then (almost as if she could read our minds) she asked quietly, "And did you talk at all? Or even whisper just a few words?" Almost in spite of myself, I replied, "Yes Mistress Erica, we did whisper a little" ... virtually in chorus with a similar 'confession' from Helen!

I half expected Mistress Erica to be furious, but she only smiled and said, "If you were my slaves, you'd be in big trouble; I expect total obedience, even to little commands like that. It looks as if I'll have to use bondage on you this afternoon instead of relying on your obedience." Helen and I both began to protest that we would try harder, but Mistress Erica's soft "Shut up!" cut us short as effectively as a whip cracking.

"From now on," she went on gently, "you will NOT open your mouths without my direct order! You're here to thank my slave and me for helping to save you from permanent slavery, and I can think of much better ways to do that than by just saying Thankyou. First you will show your gratitude to my slave; OK, boy, get them ready!" she finished to her slave.

She sat down in a comfortable chair placed behind her by her slave, and watched as he proceeded to put Helen and me into bondage. We had to kneel face-to-face and our arms were laced into single sleeves behind our backs. Next he looped a cord snugly around the base and shaft of my cock and pulled it between Helen's legs, then passed a strong wide strap around our thighs just below our buttocks and buckled it very tight.

Although this bondage was tight and quite uncomfortable, it was by no means un-enjoyable ... especially when Mistress Erica told us to press our naked bodies together and give each other a long, sexy kiss! I could feel Helen's nipples, like small hard buttons, rubbing against my chest, and I'm quite sure she could feel my cock getting bigger by the moment! Mistress Erica also told us to keep our eyes closed until she gave permission to open them again.

A few minutes passed, during which there were various noises, including the sound of ropes turning pulley wheels. Then Mistress Erica said, "Don't open your eyes yet, slaves, but I want you both to lean back as far as you can and turn your faces towards the ceiling." I obeyed, using my bound arms to steady myself, and wondering what we were about to see. "OK," continued Mistress Erica, "open your eyes now!"

There, hanging directly above me, was the naked body of her slave! He was bound in a kind of suspended hogtie, which must have been quite severe on his shoulders and legs. As Mistress Erica gradually lowered him towards Helen and me, I saw how this presented the front of his torso, for ...?

"My slave enjoys having his nipples sucked and nibbled, even bitten quite hard," said Mistress Erica. It was obvious she was talking to me, because her slave's chest was by now almost touching my face. But she said nothing to Helen; it wasn't hard to guess what she was to do -- just before my sight was blocked, I could see the suspended slave's prick, already swelling, descending towards Helen's face!

Willingly, I set to work with my lips and teeth on those nipples; and I could clearly hear the sounds of Helen's mouth at work elsewhere. This bizarre arrangement must have been very enjoyable for Mistress Erica to watch, and her slave certainly seemed to enjoy it too, judging by the sounds he made. After only a few minutes (fortunately, I think, with the severe bondage he was in!) his small cries turned to deeper moans, and then his body jerked as he climaxed deep into Helen's eager throat.

"That was fun, wasn't it, slaves?" smiled Mistress Erica as she lifted her slave up and swung him aside before lowering him and releasing his bonds. She told him to relax while she herself untied Helen and me. "You two did a good job there," she went on. "My slave can now consider himself adequately thanked ... right, up on your feet!"

Now completely free of all bonds, Helen and I obeyed and faced her as she relaxed in a comfortable chair. She continued in her soft voice: "I've decided to give you another chance to prove your obedience. From now on I'll address you simply as 'girl' and 'boy', and I expect you to follow my instructions instantly and precisely. Right ... here we go ..."

For at least half an hour she issued a steady stream of orders, hardly even pausing for breath between them. At first Helen and I had to parade ourselves for her, posing our naked bodies in various ways and caressing and fondling ourselves all over -- especially, of course, our 'private' parts! By now we were both quite used to this kind of display for Masters and/or Mistresses, and I could really enjoy it ... even more so when Mistress Erica began to tell us to caress and fondle each other!

But then things became a little more difficult: we had to start pinching and slapping ourselves. "I get turned on," explained Mistress Erica, "watching slaves inflict pain on yourselves. Not much, of course, but the interesting thing is that you have to decide how much you can take!" A little while later she began to tell us to do the same to each other, and even give each other hard little bites on the more sensitive parts of each other's naked body.

I found it quite fascinating to discover that obeying the orders of that very quiet voice, with its amazing quality of command, seemed to inspire me to tolerate a good deal more pain than I expected from my own hands and from Helen's hands and teeth. This led me to wonder yet again at the effect this criuse had had on me, and at the real depths of my submissiveness.

"OK, that'll do," said Mistress Erica at last. "You did quite well; it's surprising, isn't it, what you can do when you really try to obey. What you didn't know was that I wanted to decide which of you would have the honour of eating me! But I really couldn't choose between you, so ... do I have a volunteer?"

"Me, please, Mistress!" I said instantly ... and heard Helen saying exactly the same words, like a chorus!

"Well," smiled Mistress Erica. "It's nice to see slaves who are eager to please. But what if I tell you that the slave I choose will have to do it in stringent bondage and will probably have moments of some pain?"

By now I was so much under her spell that I wasn't even surprised to hear myself saying eagerly and without hesitation: "Yes, please, Mistress!" Again Helen's voice chimed in with mine, offering her services just as eagerly.

"I think you just got in first, girl," Mistress Erica smiled at Helen. "But I'm not sure; what do you think, slave?" she asked her own slave.

"I couldn't tell, Mistress," he admitted. "But if I may, I can certainly recommend the slave-girl's skill with her lips and tongue and teeth!"

"Who am I to ignore a testimonial like that?" said Mistress Erica, turning to Helen whose eyes were shining at this compliment. "You're it, girl! OK, slave, get her ready using the short bar behind her knees. Meanwhile ..." she spoke to me, "how would you like to come and help me undress?"

I leapt to obey her command before it even registered that she had phrased it as an invitation! Mistress Erica's eyes caught mine and held them, the slightest of smiles playing on her lips, as she pointed without a word at the floor in front of her. I got the message and dropped to my knees, and I know I was blushing a little at this new proof of my submissive nature.

My hands shook ever so slightly with excitement as I carefully removed Mistress Erica's tiny sandals, then her skirt and blouse and, finally, her bra and brief panties. This revealed an exquisite body, tiny but beautifully proportioned, with smooth skin as white as fine china. My admiring gaze didn't escape her notice, and she asked, "Do you like my body, slave?"

"Oh yes, Mistress!" I replied sincerely, bringing a smile of pleasure to her lips, followed by a soft command: "Tell me!"

I obeyed eagerly ... and perhaps a little effusively. But it pleased Mistress Erica enough to allow me to caress her naked body for a few moments, and even to press my lips to her shaved pussy and touch my tongue to her small but prominent clit. Then she ordered me to stand aside and to follow her slave's lead from now on.

In my admiration of her beauty, I'd completely forgotten about Helen! I turned to see her hanging by her knees from a padded bar, with her wrists pulled back and tied to her ankles, which forced her lovely body into a definite arch. Mistress Erica looked her up and down and spent a few moments caressing her helpless nudity, especially her large inverted breasts.

"Such lovely generous curves you have!" she complimented Helen quite genuinely. "Not much like mine, eh? But I'm quite proud of my body, and your slave-boy friend here tells me he likes it ... what do you think, girl?" she asked as she lay down on a low padded bench and made her slave slide it until she was almost under Helen's hanging head.

Helen's unquenchable spirit asserted itself. "It's difficult to tell," she said cheekily, "hanging upside down like this, Mistress; but yes, it looks lovely to me!"

Mistress Erica chuckled with obvious delight. "You're a cheeky wench," she grinned. "I like you!" She swung Helen's head up to her own to give her a long kiss, then continued: "... but slaves can only afford to be cheeky if you're ready to take the consequences; you may regret it later!"

She swung Helen back and told her slave to make adjustments until her pussy was directly in front of Helen's mouth. At the same time she told Helen to obey every instruction that included the words "pussy" or "clit"; all other orders, she continued, "... are for you slave-boys. Ready, everyone?"

First of all she got Helen's willing and skilful mouth working to her satisfaction on her pussy. I watched in fascination and rising excitement ... so much so that I almost missed the order, given without the tiniest pause or change of inflection: "... Start licking my tits". It was only her slave's instant obedience that alerted me, and I followed his lead quickly, wondering whether Mistress Erica had noticed my hesitation and whether I would be punished for it later.

But soon even that concern was driven from my mind, as I lost myself in the enjoyment of the moment. I couldn't see much, with my face close to Mistress Erica's chest, but the orders she was giving Helen were exciting ... not to mention the direct excitement of licking, sucking and nibbling her lovely small but firm breasts, strictly in accordance with her instructions, of course!

A little later I was surprised when, after sucking her nipples quite hard, we were told to actually bite on them. I obeyed -- gently! -- then "Harder on my left tit" came her quiet voice; that's me, I realised, and soon I found myself biting surprisingly hard! It dawned on me then that Mistress Erica's turn-on was not only seeing slaves in a little pain but also in feeling it herself.

After only a short time she told us to stop and sit back. I noticed that she was breathing faster and was starting to writhe slightly in arousal. "Now," she said, "use one hand on my tit and the other on the slave-girl's, and try to do exactly the same with both hands..." We obeyed, and I found it interesting to cup one hand under Helen's large inverted breast and with the other to caress Mistress Erica's smaller but firm and upthrusting one.

"Suck on my clit," she told Helen a bit later, and soon her arousal really started to show. Next she ordered her slave and me to begin rolling her nipples (and Helen's, of course!) between our fingers -- quite firmly. She herself had begun to play with Helen's pussy, made so available by her arched bondage.

Her breath was coming even faster when she spoke next: "When I say Now!, I want you to pinch both nipples you have in your fingers; you, 'boy', as hard as you did earlier when you were parading for me, and you, slave, as hard as you know I like." As I listened to this instruction, I noticed that her thighs were clutching Helen's head firmly, covering her ears; clearly, she planned to give Helen a little surprise.

Spreading her thighs apart again, she went on for Helen's benefit: "Suck harder on my clit ... now nibble it gently with your teeth ... a bit faster ..." She was panting hard now and barely able to gasp the word "Now!"

Instantly, I squeezed my fingers on both nipples they held. I'm sure my companion slave did the same; I didn't see him do it, because at that exact moment my eyes happened to be on Mistress Erica's fingers toying with Helen's clit ... and she simultaneously pinched it, firmly! There was a loud (if muffled) squeal from Helen, interrupted by Mistress Erica crying, "Bite my clit, slave-girl ... harder ... yes ... yes ..." and her words turned into a scream as she abandoned herself to her orgasm.

I watched in a mixture of erotic excitement and sheer amazement; now I understood that, for Mistress Erica, the peak of sexual pleasure was reached with the simultaneous pain (harmless but intense) of her slaves and herself! And I found myself giving her nipple an extra tweak; not, I was very aware, in retaliation for the pain she'd made me and Helen suffer, but really hoping to give her a little extra thrill.

And it did! She moaned anew and shuddered in another climax ... assisted, I'm sure, by another small squeal from Helen. Automatically, following her earlier instruction, I had also given Helen's nipple an extra tweak too!

Afterwards, Mistress Erica rewarded me with a simple quiet "Thank you, boy" as she looked me squarely in the eye; I was sure she'd guessed what had passed through my mind. And, as she cheerfully announced that Helen and I had adequately shown our "... gratitude for services rendered," I was conscious of having learned something new about being a slave. Namely, that the greatest pleasure for a slave is simple submission and unquestioning obedience to even the smallest wishes and commands of his/her Master/Mistress.

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 17: The Last Waltz.

I mentioned my discovery to Helen on our way back to my Mistress and Master Paul. We had time to chat, it turned out, because Mistress Erica sent us off earlier than was really necessary. (She said, as she fastened handcuffs to our wrists behind our backs, "You might like to make some detours and see how many fondles you can collect on the way!")

But the corridors and decks we walked along were relatively quiet, and we met hardly anybody. At one point we stopped and spent a few minutes looking out over the ocean; I took the opportunity to tell Helen about my thoughts.

"Yes," she said with one of her lovely smiles, "it's interesting, isn't it? I think I knew deep down a long time ago, but I wasn't really aware of it until we came on this cruise. The time on the island, especially, made me think about it a lot ... and now I just know my full-time slavery to my Master will be even more fun and satisfying, because I'll be able to submit to anything and everything he wants!

"You see," she went on seriously, "now I know I can trust him, even if he plays tricks on me like they did with our auction, or allows another Master or Mistress to have me for a while. At first, on the island, it was a shock even to be naked and shackled in front of other people; but that didn't take very long to get used to. The next step was getting aroused and actually having an orgasm in public! ..."

She blushed slightly, then grinned at me. "Remember that time, when we were harnessed to the carriages? You helped me a lot, just by being there with me, naked and helplessly shackled, to get over what I had thought would be terribly shameful and embarrassing. Thank you, Peter!" We were alone at that moment, and she turned towards me and gave me a quick kiss.

"My p-pleasure!" I stammered in slight confusion. "Now I'm starting to understand why you were so much better a slave than I was. I was still thinking in terms of the agreement and conditions my Mistress and I had worked out so carefully, but you were obviously a long way ahead of me."

"In some ways," Helen replied, "I thought you were ahead of me! When Mistress Tina left you in the cells and then you were out on loan to Mistress Anne, I could hardly believe it. There was no way I wanted to submit to somebody else without my Master present, and I thought you were very brave and trusting. I told my Master so, too, and he admitted the other day that this was part of the reason he wanted to put me in the auction with you. He felt that the only way to make me accept it might be for me to have no choice.

"And he was right! When it looked like we were definitely going to be permanent slaves, it seemed far more important to know we would be treated well! And it helped an awful lot, too," -- another brilliant smile! -- "to have you with me. After all, you'd been quite willing to spend a night in Mistress Anne's hands! And when we got back here and discovered that they'd arranged it all, I suddenly got the message my Master was sending me!

"In any case, I was so relieved and so glad to be back with him, that now I'm only too happy to submit to anybody he wants me to ... as well as to any thing he wants to do to me. And it is more fun that way, isn't it? Not having to worry about what will happen to you -- just submitting for the sake of submitting, and obeying every little order because that's what slaves do!"

She paused a moment, then a mischievous sparkle crept into her eyes. "Of course," she continued, "sometimes it's fun to disobey just a little, to see what my Master will do! Mind you, I can only do that because now I know I can trust him utterly not to really hurt me ... and I can trust him to make it all enjoyable, even the punishments. Although our punishment for screwing without permission wasn't much fun for a while, was it?" she finished ruefully.

For a long moment I couldn't say a word; she had spelt out so clearly what I had just begun to appreciate, but only vaguely. At last I said, quietly but sincerely, "Helen, you're incredible! You've explained it all so beautifully! I'm going to think it over tonight, but somehow I feel that tomorrow, when this criuse ends, I'll suggest to my Mistress that we discuss our 'agreement' and I might consider asking to be her slave unconditionally!

"Maybe we ought to be getting back to them now," I went on. "But first -- could we have another kiss, please?" Helen needed no persuading; almost before the words were out of my mouth, her soft lips were on mine. For a moment I wished my arms weren't held behind my back, so that I could have hugged her tighter ... but it wasn't really necessary, so eagerly did she press her magnificent body against me!

I could feel her nipples, like hard little buttons, rubbing on my chest ... and I'm sure she could feel my cock getting equally hard and pushing its way between her lovely thighs. After a long (and very pleasant!) minute or so, we broke apart and continued on our way; but my cock simply wouldn't relax, so much so that it attracted a good deal of attention and fondles from passing Mistresses -- and Masters, too!

"This last evening of the cruise is treated as a special occasion," my Mistress told me when I returned from our episode with Mistress Erica. She went on to give me some idea of the coming evening as I bathed her with extra care, patted her dry gently with a fluffy towel and applied powder and perfume to her soft smooth skin. But when it came to dressing her, she stopped me after I had helped her put on her briefs and bra.

"I'll finish dressing in a minute," she said. "Right now we have to get you ready." After I had a quick shower, she shackled my arms by fitting a fairly short chain behind my back between cuffs just above my elbows, leaving my hands free but not of very much use to me. A twelve-inch hobble chain between ankle cuffs completed my shackles; then she produced some bright red lipstick!

"We want to spruce you up a little tonight!" she grinned at me as she carefully applied the bright colour to both my nipples, then to the head of my cock as well! I felt a bit silly when she showed me how I looked in a mirror, but I didn't think it was worth complaining about. "In a few minutes," she went on, "you'll be going to the ballroom without me -- I'm going to pre-dinner drinks for Masters and Mistresses only."

Sure enough, before long there was a knock at the door. My Mistress opened it and, standing out of sight behind it, simply gestured me to go through. Outside was waiting a crew slave, with several more naked slaves in a line behind him; with a grin he welcomed me "to the convoy" and put a collar on my neck, which was attached by a rope to the next slave's collar ... and so on. Off we went, to the next cabin where another slave was added to our little train.

I began to feel less self-conscious about the lipstick I wore, when I noticed that most of us were "made up" in some way or other. In fact, some slaves had had their naked bodies painted in much more elaborate ways than mine, some of them quite bizarre. Others, especially those whose nipples (or other parts!) had been pierced, were decorated with pendants and other "jewellery". After a while we reached the ship's main ballroom, which was a hive of feverish yet orderly activity.

Several officers were directing a large number of crew slaves in setting the tables around the walls, polishing the large dance floor and arranging a variety of decorations. Some of the latter were particularly interesting; at intervals around the walls, and as centrepieces on some tables, were crew slaves, their naked bodies each bound in a different pose. We passenger slave were all made to stand on a low platform between the tables and the wall, and fastened by means of short chains and hooks to convenient rings.

When everything was done to the officers' satisfaction, the lights were turned down low, except for a few spotlights trained on some of the "display slaves". The rest of the crew slaves left, but two officers remained; they allowed us to talk quietly amongst ourselves as we waited, but they saw to it that the noise was kept down. I'd been a bit disappointed to see that Helen was not beside me, but I chatted with the nearby slaves and wondered what would happen next.

After a while the doors opened to admit the Masters and Mistresses. They all wore evening dress and were chatting gaily as they entered, but the sight of the dramatically lit "decorations" tended to cut their conversations short. When they had all come in, the lights were turned up and each Master or Mistress took the place nearest his or her slave. My own Mistress gave me a broad grin and a quick fondle and said, "Hi! This is going to fun, isn't it?"

I returned her smile, staring appreciatively at the beautiful clinging gown she wore; and I looked around the room in wonder at the contrast of formally dressed Masters and Mistresses with all us stark naked slaves. Suddenly all the lights were turned low again, and a voice announced: "Masters and Mistresses ... your Captain and First Officer!" Everybody turned towards the door, now brightly spotlit; and through it came an unusual procession!

First we saw two crew slave-girls, stark naked of course, their generous breasts thrust forward proudly as they paced slowly into the room; they wore gags like ponies' bits, and their arms were held behind them by short rods between their elbows. In their hands they held light chains, which led to the cocks of three male slaves following several feet behind them. And there, riding (it seemed) on the shoulders of these three, were the Captain and his second-in-command, a handsome Mistress!

As they moved slowly across the dance floor to their place at the high table, we could all take in the elaborateness of the male slaves' bondage. They were all big and strong crew members, and their naked muscular bodies were well tanned and had been oiled so that they shone; they were carrying the "riders" on seats supported by their arms bound wrist-to-elbow behind them; their heads were completely covered by helmets with only mouth-holes for them to breathe through; they held their chins high and, in spite of their ankles being hobbled by two-foot spreaders, they somehow managed to walk smoothly and in unison.

The Captain and First Officer sat easily on their strange mounts, their arms casually resting on their heads and lightly holding the "reins" leading to the slave-girls' "bits". Reaching their table, the slave-girls knelt and presented their backs for them to dismount. Taking their places, they declared this "End-of-Cruise Dinner Dance" open and wished everybody an enjoyable evening.

The slaves who had taken part in this entrance stayed in the room -- and in bondage -- the whole evening; the First Officer supervised several crew slaves in making some adjustments. The three males were placed in the centre of the dance floor and the rods tied to their arms (which had supported the seats) were fixed into a triangular pattern, so that they were each facing in a different direction. The chains attached to their cocks (which were themselves circled with several tight rings!) were brought up to their mouths and they were made to grip them in their teeth; when (as the final touch) a rope was tightened between rings on the tops of their helmets, forcing them to arch their naked bodies outwards, some strain was clearly put on their cocks!

The two female slave got off more lightly, at least in terms of bondage. They were simply given a riding crop and a set of light thongs each, to hold in their hands (still held behind them by the rod between their elbows). The First Officer told them, in a voice that everyone could hear, that they were to move around the room all evening; "... and, whenever the band plays these few bars, you will request the nearest Master or Mistress to give you two strokes, either on your tits or belly with the thongs or on your bottom with the crop." She went on to the room in general: "It may be hard to believe, but our crew slaves fall over themselves for a chance to get some attention at this function; so we like to make it interesting for them!"

Now the dinner was really under way! All the serving was done by crew slaves, placing dishes of food on the tables; the Masters and Mistresses ate and drank and, as the mood took them, fed their slaves. Most of us slaves were shackled in a way that prevented us feeding ourselves, so we had to accept mosrsels directly from the fingers or forks of our owners. The food was delicious, the wine was very drinkable, the conversation was animated and the music in the background was pleasant ... just like any dinner dance should be!

Here, of course, there were differences! The band, for example, consisted of naked crew slaves shackled to their chairs or the floor, and was conducted by an officer whose baton was a riding crop and who also used a long light buggy whip occasionally with great effect! The dancing was unusual, too -- formally dressed Masters and Mistresses danced together, or a dinner-suited Master with a naked shackled slave-girl, or an elegantly gowned Mistress with a naked male slave, and sometimes slaves were even ordered to dance with each other.

My Mistress danced with me several times, smiling into my eyes as we waltzed around the floor. And a number of other Mistresses asked her permission to dance with me, and she never refused. Unfortunately, only once did I dance with Helen (with her lovely face and sexy figure, she was much in demand by other Masters) and even then only for a few minutes; a Master cut in on us and, as slaves, we didn't even think of objecting!

While they danced, the Masters and Mistresses often stopped for a moment beside the three slaves standing bound in the middle of the floor. The way their cocks were held up against their bellies, leaving their balls so exposed, was an invitation that few Masters and especially Mistresses could resist! By the end of the evening, all three sets of cocks and balls must have been quite sore from all the fondling.

At one point, the First Officer noticed that one of them had let the chain to his cock slip out of his mouth. Summoning one of the slave-girls whom she'd earlier ordered to circulate with the crops and thongs, she took the crop and, without any warning at all, gave the slave five hard strokes in quick succession across his belly. The first was obviously such a shock that a howl escaped his lips, but the rest brought only small grunts, although they were at least as hard and raised livid weals on his flesh, stretched taut by his arched pose.

She leaned up close to him and said, in a voice loud enough to penetrate his helmet, "That was for letting go of the chain, slave. I'm sure you wish you hadn't; but from now on you'll wish it even more!" She took hold of the chain now dangling from his prick and gave it a sharp tug, then gestured to the passing dancers that they should do the same; for the rest of the evening, his cock was tugged and flicked from side to side so often that he must have felt it was about to come off!

Towards the end of the evening, the Captain made a little speech. "Masters and Mistresses," he said. "As we approach the end of this cruise, I want to say on behalf of all the officers and crew, how much we've enjoyed having you aboard. Your company has been pleasant and stimulating, and your slaves have been well-behaved; that is ..." he paused "... as far as one may expect slaves to behave!" This brought a chuckle from his audience, and he went on: "We have a tradition on this occasion of making one or two small presentations, and I'll ask the First Officer to announce these."

The First Officer rose and thanked him, then turned to the expectant audience. "Firstly," she announced, "the crew slaves have been ordered to vote for the 'Most Popular Master or Mistress' among you passengers on this cruise, and they have chosen ... Master Leonard!" There was a burst of applause, but she held up a hand for quiet and continued: "At the same time, we officers voted on the 'Best Passenger Slave'. Personally, I always find this very difficult, because even a perfectly-behaved slave is only doing what one expects of him or her; it would be much easier, I'm sure you'd agree, to vote for the 'worst slave'!"

But she was smiling as she said this, and took little notice of the good-natured heckling it aroused. "As a matter of fact," she continued, "this time we had a tied vote -- an equal number for ... slave Diana and slave Kenny! Our congratulations to these popular passengers, and now I'll ask you to come up and accept a memento of this cruise and this occasion. Master Leonard!"

A Master on the other side of the room rose; before any applause could begin, he raised his hands and said loudly, "Madam First Officer, before I accept your kind award, I'd like to suggest that we passengers should return the favour and vote for the 'Most Popular Officer' and the 'Best Crew Slave'. I've ordered my slave-girl to nominate an officer, to start things rolling, and she says the Chief Entertainment Officer. Fellow Masters and Mistresses, would you ask your slaves if they have any other suggestions?"

What followed turned into an impromptu "election" for the two awards. The slave around the walls suggested a few more officers' names -- through their owners, of course (one slave who simply called out a name was sharply scolded by his Master and told that he could expect to be punished later!). Since many of us slaves were shackled and unable to raise our hands, we voted in the same way -- by asking our owners to indicate our choice. As it happened, I didn't lodge a vote; I would have voted for the Captain himself, but he politely refused to be nominated.

In the end the first officer suggested, the Chief Entertainment Officer, was elected. And the second "election", for the 'Best Crew Slave', was hardly a contest; Nicole, the Captain's slave and the girl with the incredibly long hair, was chosen by the acclamation of the Masters and Mistresses without another name being mentioned!

After a little delay, the five "winners" came forward. The Chief Entertainment Officer had to be sent for, because he was naturally behind the scenes making sure this occasion was successful. And Nicole happened to be one of the slaves gracing the ballroom in "decorative bondage"! And she wasn't even released to receive her award; the Captain insisted that she be carried, still tightly bound, to the dais.

The Captain himself made the presentations to the 'passenger' winners, and Master Leonard to the winning officer and crew slave. What they received was just a token, in the form of a small badge marked with the date of the cruise and the appropriate letters, either "MPM" or "MPO" or "BPS" or "BCS". The first two could be pinned to their owners' clothes or worn like a pendant, but those for the slaves had spring clamps instead of a pin and a ring as well. This latter feature was put to use on slave Kenny, and he returned to his place proudly wearing his badge hanging from one of his pierced nipples. As for the slave-girls, Diana and Nicole, their badges were merely clamped to a nipple; but they both wore them without complaint for the rest of the evening.

With these presentations over, the Captain called for attention once more. "My senior officers and I," he announced, "have decided to make a special award on this cruise. It is for extraordinary imagination in slavery, and for unusual sumbission and bravery by slaves. Masters and Mistresses, I present Mistress Tina and Master Paul, and their slaves Helen and Peter!"

There was a very loud burst of applause as my Mistress smilingly unfastened me from the wall and led me up to the dais, where we met Master Paul and Helen. I felt quite shy at all this attention, but I have to admit that the warmth and obvious genuineness of the applause did make me feel good. After acknowledging the clapping for few moments, my Mistress and Master Paul even joined in ... to show that they were specifically applauding Helen and me! Then someone shouted, "Give the slaves a thrill!" and they obliged, caressing Helen and me intimately and for a long time to the accompaniment of slow handclapping.

When the applause had died down, the Captain continued: "We are not giving badges for this award, but we have already told Mistress Tina and Master Paul the prize we are giving them. They'll tell their slaves in their own good time, and we will not announce it here because other slaves might be very envious and try to arrange their own abductions next time in the hope of winning a similar prize!" This brought a loud burst of laughter, from slaves as well as owners.

"I also have one or two other announcements to make," he went on, "for the benefit of slaves in particular. One is that, since we will be reaching port in mid-morning tomorrow, all slaves will be expected to wear clothes in the public parts of the ship from dawn; so if your Master or Mistress tries to bring you out of your cabin naked, you will have a valid complaint against them for a breach of ship's rules. Secondly, something I forgot to mention at the pre-dinner gathering: all bondage rooms will be closed at dawn for the same reason. However, I suspect some of you keener owners will still find a way of applying bondage right up to the minute we start disembarking!" More laughter!

The dancing continued for a while after that, but eventually my Mistress took me back to our cabin. I immediately noticed something different about it, and soon realised what it was: all the hooks and rings and other gear fitted for the purpose of bondage was gone! My Mistress explained that the technical crew had been through all cabins during the dinner-dance, in order to have them looking inocuous in case of any inspection that might be made in port.

In a way, this seemed to suggest that the bondage part of this holiday was over, so I had the courage to ask her what was the prize that she (we?) had won. She replied that she would tell me later, when she thought it more appropriate. I accepted that, but then I asked if I might say something about our agreement (I thought maybe she'd be pleased to know I was considering "tearing it up"). She asked seriously, "Do you want to suggest I've broken it?" and, when I said no, she insisted on sticking to it "... until the very end of this cruise! And now I think we've got better things to do!" she finished with a smile.

My pallet had gone along with the rings and things, so I slept on a bed for the first time in -- how many? -- days. Admittedly, I still wasn't especially comfortable, because my Mistress still had her bag of ropes and cuffs et cetera; but I didn't really mind because, after tying me on the bed with my arms above my head and my legs tightly together, she straddled my hips and guided my erect prick into her tight warm pussy!

"This" she smiled down at me, "is our private end-of-cruise celebration!" And she proceeded to celebrate very enthusiastically; before we went to sleep -- quite late! -- she had at least five or six orgasms, and I even had two! At last she released me from that bondage, but still left me with my wrists cuffed behind me, and settled down to sleep alongside me. Once or twice during the night I was awakened by her clever hands caressing my naked body gently.

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Next morning, before releasing my wrists from their shackles, my Mistress made me eat her pussy "... one last time before we go back to our old habit of you visiting me by appointment." When my eager tongue and lips brought her to her climax, it seemed she couldn't abandon herself to it as completely as usual; perhaps, I thought, she's feeling a bit sad that the cruise is ending. I shared those feelings myself, and we were both very quiet while I bathed her and helped her dress.

I wondered whether she would keep me naked and in our cabin until just before leaving the ship, but she didn't. "Time for you to get dressed," she said, then went on: "But I'd like to put a harness on your cock until we actually reach home -- OK?" I agreed readily, and soon my cock was encircled with several rings and a short chain led from its tip to the small padlock keeping another ring fastened inescapably around my scrotum.

After so many days spent totally and continuously naked, my clothes felt very strange indeed! Also, when we went outside, the ship itself appeared just as strange -- there were none of the naked shackled slave bodies that I'd become so used to seeing! I wondered how long it would take to re-adjust.

We shared a table at breakfast with Master Paul and Helen. She was wearing a simple outfit of a light blouse and skirt, and she looked as lovely as ever; her sexy hourglass figure was still obvious, if not more so, and I was amazed to find myself getting aroused just at the sight of her. My cock began to get hard in its harness (not a very comfortable feeling!), and I realised that it wasn't just her nakedness that had turned me on during the past few days!

In spite of the quite different appearances, it still felt right for Helen and me to serve breakfast to "Paul" and "Tina" (although we used these names for them, it didn't seem as appropriate as "Master" and "Mistress"!) For my part, it was relatively easy to assume the rôle of the gentleman waiting on the lady, but I had to admire how smoothly and naturally Helen did the same for Paul (he co-operated beautifully, thanking her nicely for her attention, yet we were all still very aware that this was only what he expected of her!).

At one point he said to her, "Are you comfortable, my dear? I'm sure Tina and Peter would be very interested to know what you're wearing under your skirt and blouse!" Helen blushed (amazing how our conventions about clothes affect us!), but replied with a smile, "Paul made me wear the corset he bought for me on the island, so that's the only underwear I've got on."

She paused, and Paul prompted her gently, "And...?" She blushed even more deeply, but continued, "I've also got a big dildo in my pussy, and it's locked in place using the rings on the corset! He thinks I might want to leave him and stow away on the ship or volunteer as crew or something! I couldn't do it!"

"Well, you have been telling me how much you've enjoyed the cruise," Paul teased her with an affectionate smile. "Seriously though," he continued to my Mistress, "what does concern me is that some Master might fancy her enough ..." ("Every Master does!" interrupted my Mistress with a smile at Helen) "... to abduct her for real and take her back to one of those private islands. I know the corset and 'chastity belt' really can't stop that, but it'll make me feel safer until we get home where I know our home is secure."

"I know what you mean," replied my Mistress. "I feel the same about Peter ... although why any Mistress would bother with him, I can't imagine." She gave me a smile to confirm that she was teasing me, then her look changed into a sort of questioning one. It took me a moment to get her hint, but she looked pleased with me when I volunteered: "Tina put a harness of rings on my cock, with a padlock behind my balls, and I'll have to wear it all the way home too. It's not too uncomfortable, though, except when my prick gets hard at the sight of Helen's loveliness." And Helen blushed again at my very genuine compliment.

While we were alone, fetching some food for our owners, I asked Helen if Master Paul had told her anything about the prize we'd won; but I was hardly surprised by her reply: "No, he says he's saving it until we're on our way home." I also took the opportunity to tell Helen privately how much I would miss her; she responded with a fervent "Oh, I'll miss you too, Peter!" and I could see that her eyes were bright with tears!

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H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 18: Epilogue.

After breakfast, we only had time to pack our bags before we reached port. My Mistress and Master Paul decided to say goodbye before going ashore, and we found a quiet corner of the deck to do that.

Now Helen's eyes weren't just bright with tears; they were overflowing as she hugged and kissed me, long and hard! And I think I cried as much as she did (after all, male slaves are expected to have some weaknesses that 'real' men don't allow themselves!) Helen hugged and kissed my Mistress, but with more reserve, and Master Paul offered me his hand and shook mine firmly and with a good deal of feeling. Finally, my Mistress and Master Paul kissed and hugged each other, rather like brother and sister; and Helen and I, watching, were sure we overheard hints of seeing each other again!

That subject came up soon after my Mistress and I set off on our two-day drive home. She commented smilingly, "Your farewell to Helen was quite a show! One could be forgiven for thinking you're besotted with her!" and I replied, "I guess I am, in a way; we went through quite a lot together. But it's something between us as slaves, and nothing like what I feel for you or she feels for Master Paul -- you understand that, don't you, Mistress?" She nodded, giving me the courage to ask, "Will we be seeing them again sometime?"

"Perhaps sooner than you might expect!" said my Mistress quietly.

"What?" I exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe now is the time to tell you about the prize we won last night. Let me tell you a story: yesterday, while you and Helen were with Mistress Erica, the Captain asked to see Paul and me. We had a chat with him and some of his senior officers, and what they told us was this:

"As the people responsible for organizing the cruises and offering packages for prospective passengers, they had been so impressed by my idea for your fake 'abduction and auction', and by the way Paul and I carried it out, that they want to offer it as a 'SPECIAL'... with all the arrangements provided and precautions guaranteed; and at a very special price, of course!

"They think it'll be very popular with Masters and Mistresses. In fact, they're quite sure they can make a lot of money from it. And, since it was my idea, they said it's only right that I get something from it; as a token of their thanks, they offered a free cruise to Paul and me -- with slaves, of course! -- as soon as it's convenient, because they'd like us to help with setting up the arrangements on the island. So ... when can you ... hey, look where you're going!!"

I was driving, and her story had so excited me that I nearly drove off the road! After getting a grip on myself, I thought for a moment and replied, "I don't really know, Mistress. I'd love to turn around right now, but I have to go back to work. I'm not certain how soon I could take another two weeks off."

My Mistress' voice held a mixture of disappointment and understanding as she said, "Yes, of course. There's one more thing, though," she continued brightly, "they said they'd like a written account of a holiday like ours, complete with abduction and auction and reunion, from the slave's point of view. They would give it to prospective Masters and Mistresses to read, so that they could see what it's like for a slave in that situation and maybe guess how their own slaves might react. I said we could write it; what do you think?"

I agreed readily to this; after all, my Mistress had always expected from me a detailed letter describing each of our periodical 'slave sessions', including all my feelings about how she had treated me. I did express doubts about whether I'd be able to remember enough details of such a long period of slavery; but she even had an answer for this!

"I kept pretty detailed notes," she said almost smugly, "of everything that actually happened. I was going to order you to write it up anyway -- an 'Our Holiday' book with a difference, eh? All that's missing are your feelings and reactions; why don't we go over them as we drive, and add notes to remind you of details while they are still fresh?"

The rest of our journey home was pleasant, exciting even! We went over the holiday in lots of detail ... and this story is the result. I do hope you have enjoyed it, "dear reader"; if you are a Master or Mistress considering taking your slave on a holiday like this, I hope I have painted a clear picture of how a slave actually felt in these situations. Most of all, I hope your slave enjoys the holiday as much as I did!

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself; there's more I have to tell, if you are really to understand my nature and the effect this holiday had on me.

During our first day's drive, something kept nagging at the back of my mind. I wasn't able to put my finger on it, but my Mistress seemed to be constantly hinting at some deeper meaning when she was asking how I'd felt about whatever events we were discussing at that moment. Then suddenly, not long before we reached the quiet country motel where we would spend the night, I understood!

I remembered things; hints and looks my Mistress had given me, and other comments she'd made that I'd thought cryptic at the time. Things fell into place, especially the subtle meaning of her questions today. I also thought about my plan to discuss with my Mistress the idea of "unconditional slavery" --and then I knew what I had to do; it was up to me to ask for it without any discussion at all!

But I decided it would be more appropriate to wait until we were in our motel room. My mind was a turmoil of excitement as we arrived, registered and reached our room -- so much so that I was terribly clumsy as I unloaded our overnight bags from the car (if my Mistress noticed, she made no comment). Once we were inside and the door was closed, my moment had come ... but I found myself unable to open my mouth!

My Mistress said casually that she could use a drink and would I please pour her one. Afraid that my resolve might fail me if I delayed, I found my tongue: "Please Mistress, may I first say something?" I blurted.

She looked at me curiously, and nodded.

"Last night I wanted to say something about our agreement," I went on. "It wasn't anything about you not keeping to it, but now I've changed my mind about what I want to say, and ... and it's important to me to say it now; may I?"

"Go on," said my Mistress. "I'm listening."

Somehow I felt I had to drop to my knees. "Please Mistress," I said, "would you please forget all about that agreement and accept me as your slave without any conditions at all?"

My Mistress went very quiet and her face became serious. There was a long pause before she asked, "Do you really know what you're asking?"

"Yes," I replied.

"I don't think you do. Convince me."

I stammered in some confusion. "Er ... no, I'm not really sure what it will mean, but it's what I want ... and I know I can trust you ... and I've realised over the last few days that slavery is even better if I don't know where the limits are ... and you said to Paul the other night that it's the only way you can really enjoy being a Mistress ... and I want to do my best for you to enjoy it ... and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to understand it all ... and ..."

"That's enough," interrupted my Mistress, her voice much quieter than usual; and I felt the power in the very softness of her command, just like I had with Mistress Erica! I waited, trembling like a leaf; partly with the knowledge that I might be letting myself in for I didn't know what, but mostly with sheer excitement and anticipation.

My Mistress said nothing for at least fifteen minutes; she just held my gaze, not smiling, not frowning, almost as if she was trying to stare me down. I wondered what she was thinking; perhaps I'd chosen the wrong time to bring up this subject.

At last she spoke, almost to herself: "I do like my slave to be naked, especially when you're making a decision like this." I took the hint, stripped quickly and returned to my knees in front of her; my cock was purple and as hard as it could be in the restrictions of its harness, but she didn't notice.

"I'd also like that drink now," she murmured as if it were an afterthought. I leapt to obey as if she'd barked the order and was threatening me with a bull-whip! I presented the drink on a tray, kneeling like a good slave.

My Mistress sipped her drink in silence for a minute or so, then spoke as if she'd reached a decision. "Yes," she said firmly, "I think you do mean it; and yes, I will accept you. I guess you've been wondering what I've been thinking about; not that it's any of your business, if you mean what you say about being my slave unconditionally, but I was seriously considering going back to the cruise ship tomorrow.

"But I've decided against that," she went on. "I want to be even more sure of your submission first. So ... now ... I want to hear once more what you have to say, and if it's what I want to hear, there'll be no turning back. You're to tell me what you want ... remember, it may be the last time you have an opportunity to do that! And mind you keep it short and sweet!"

I swallowed and licked my lips. My mouth was dry, but I managed to say, clearly and firmly, kneeling at attention and looking right into her eyes, "I want to be your slave, Mistress Tina, utterly and completely."

Slowly, there spread across her lovely face the most wonderful smile I'd ever seen! "That was very good, slave," she said approvingly. "And now, if you really meant that -- and I think you did -- you won't move an inch until I tell you to."

She got up and went out of the door ... to fetch something from the car, I guessed. But, when she didn't return for at least twenty minutes, I realised that it wasn't only to get something from the car! Convinced that she was just testing me, I resolved to try very hard to obey her order not to move.

Eventually the door opened, footsteps approached me from behind ... and my Mistress' hands came over my head, holding her very largest ball-gag in front of my mouth. Obediently, I opened my mouth to accept it and she buckled it tight behind my neck; then she gently took hold of my wrists, put cuffs on them and pulled them close together. The sound of a large padlock clicking shut had a definite ring of finality about it!

She returned to her seat in front of me and looked into my eyes, her gaze affectionate but with a strong hint of sternness. "I'm sure you've realised," she said, "why I've gagged you, but in case it hasn't occurred to you ... I'm about to tell you a few things about being my real slave; now that you've said what you said a few minutes ago, you have nothing to say, you have only to listen and obey ..."

Quite calmly and matter-of-factly, without showing any emotion at all, she began to spell out her expectations of me as her "real and unconditional" slave. But she'd barely got started when she was interrupted by a knock at the door; without the slightest hesitation, she simply called, "Come in!" and the door opened to admit a woman in a waitress' uniform and carrying a tray!!

Taken totally by surprise, I started to turn away from this stranger; but my Mistress' soft but very sharp "Don't move!" stopped me. The waitress put the tray down beside my Mistress and turned back towards the door, which meant that she had to pass very close to my naked, shackled body. My Mistress thanked her as if there was nothing at all unusual, but I noticed that the waitress was not a little embarrassed and gave me a long, hard look before leaving.

After the door shut behind her, my Mistress said with a hint of a smile, "That was a taste of what might happen at any time if you're my slave, without the sort of conditions in that 'agreement'; do you still trust me?" By now I had had a chance to think, and I guessed that she must have known in advance that the motel owners were bondage fans too; so I nodded.

"Good!" she said warmly. "In that case, there's no real need for me to explain; but I think I will, anyway. That lady is the motel owner's wife, and she's never seen a real slave before ... well, not naked and shackled and gagged, at least!" I stared as she calmly described the conversation she'd had with the motel owner and his wife: "They didn't want to believe me at first, but I persuaded them to play along, pointing out that they could call the police if you showed any sign at all of being an unwilling prisoner.

"So you see, I was taking a risk, too, and trusting you to stand by your wish to be my slave ... 'utterly and completely', I think you said." She smiled a smile full of love and warmth; "I'm so glad you didn't let me down! ... Now, I better eat my dinner before it gets cold."

I didn't get any dinner; my Mistress ate what looked -- and smelt! -- like a very tasty meal, but not once did she make any move to remove my gag and give me any! While she ate, and for a long time after she'd finished, she continued telling me how I could expect to be treated as her slave. What she said was very interesting, some of it was surprising and even a little scary, but it was all exciting; most of the time my cock was hard in its harness, and sometimes my Mistress fondled it casually or pinched my nipples as she talked.

It was quite late when there was another knock at the door; no problem, I thought, just the waitress coming to collect the empty tray. But (as usual!) I was wrong. This time it was a man who entered; for a horrible moment I thought it was the police, until my Mistress greeted him cheerfully with "Ah, there you are, Manager!" I relaxed, but her next words surprised me ... yet again!

"Here's my slave we discussed earlier," she said. "I'd appreciate it if you could find a safe place for him to spend the night ... with good solid locks, if you take my meaning. If you think he needs it, you can feed him before you lock him up. Please wake me with breakfast at 6:30. Good night!" she finished and disappeared into the bathroom.

The man grinned at me. "Your ... lady ... knows what she wants all right, doesn't she?" he said. "Come along now ... up with you!" He lifted me to my feet, gave me a moment to get my balance (I'd been on my knees for quite some time!) and steered me out the door!

I have to admit that, after my days on the island and the ship, the cool night air felt quite familiar as it played over my naked body! The man said nothing more as he guided me past several other rooms (I prayed that no-one would suddenly decide to come out!), and into the back door of what was clearly the motel office and, presumably, his home.

Inside was waiting the woman who had earlier brought my Mistress' dinner. She was still a bit embarrassed by the sight of my nakedness, but she smiled at me tentatively when the man escorting me said, "You've met my wife Brenda, I think. I'm Dan, and we own the motel. We'd like to have a little chat with you; if you want the gag to stay in, we'll just ask questions and you can nod or shake your head; but I can take the gag out if you like."

I nodded firmly, and a moment later I was able to say, "Thank you. My jaw was starting to get very stiff."

"It's true, then?" asked Brenda. "She's not keeping you ... like that ... against your will?"

I reassured them that I was indeed a willing slave, and there followed a long conversation, during which they quizzed me in some detail about what it was like to be a slave. I answered their questions honestly and as positively as I could, but I did try to impress on them that it depended an awful lot on finding the right Mistress, one a slave could trust. By now, of course, my trust in my Mistress was complete; she had contrived to give me a perfect object lesson in being a real slave, without really putting me at any great risk at all!

Before very long they were both showing signs of great interest and giving each other long "meaningful" looks as I mentioned some things that had happened to me. At one point Brenda asked, more than a little tentatively, "Are there, um, er, female slaves too, Peter?" I assured her that there most certainly were and, before I knew it, I found myself waxing somewhat lyrical about ... Helen, of course! But I stopped when I noticed the looks she was giving Dan, who was clearly getting very excited!

It was late when they ran out of questions. "I guess it's about time I put you to bed," said Dan at last. "You've said nothing about being hungry, so you obviously don't need to eat now. You'll get breakfast in the morning, though; what are all the best slaves eating these days -- dog food?" He grinned evilly at me, then assured me that my food would be edible.

He went on: "Your Mistress asked that you be locked up safely, and we've got just the place for that. But I guess it's pretty uncomfortable sleeping with your arms shackled like that -- would you like me to unlock them?"

"But ... but my Mistress has the key!" I stammered in confusion.

"No, she doesn't," he grinned, holding up a key. "In fact, it's my padlock you're wearing; it was her suggesting to use it that convinced me she was on the level. Well, would you like it off?"

I certainly would have, but something made me stop and think about what my Mistress might want. "No thank you," I said firmly. "I'm sure my Mistress would prefer me to be securely shackled for the night." (Good grief, I thought, being a real slave is already having an effect on me!)

"Securely it shall be, then," intoned Dan with mock sternness. "Come along, I'll show you to your dungeon ... slave!" He stressed the last word with great satisfaction, but I happened to notice that he was looking at his wife as he said it, and she was looking at him with a very private sort of smile. "See you in the bedroom, dear," he called over his shoulder as he led me out of the back door again.

His choice of words wasn't much of an exaggeration! Just around the corner he stopped at a door which was secured with no less than three heavy bolts, each with its own large padlock! "We've had a lot of trouble," he explained as he unlocked them, "with thefts from our stores. But these locks, and this heavy steel door have put a stop to them!"

It took most of his weight to swing it open! "Your Mistress should sleep well, with you safely in here," he chuckled, leading me inside. "It's even got bars on the window, like a real prison! Now, we have some spare mattresses over here ... no, no, that would be too much comfort for the likes of you, wouldn't it? ... ah, this should do the job nicely!"

He led me over to a pile of empty potato sacks! Grinning cheerfully, he spread just a couple of layers on the hard concrete floor, saying, "I'm sure this is exactly what your Mistress had in mind! Now, slave, lie down!" I obeyed meekly. "And stay there while I go find something."

He was back in a minute, carrying a length of very heavy chain and two more big padlocks; one padlock fastened one end of the chain around my ankle, the second anchored the other end to a steel post set in the floor. I was certainly not going anywhere until those padlocks were released!

"That's got you well fixed for the night!" He stood up and grinned down at me. "And don't worry; we have a burglar alarm in here, so you'll be able to attract my attention if it's really necessary. I'll set it low so it won't sense your sleeping noises, but if you need me, just jump about and yell."

I grinned back and asked, "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

"No, never," he replied. "But I have a strong feeling I might be doing it some more!" he continued, grinning. "Your story sure got Brenda interested, and I can hardly wait to join her in the bedroom! See you in the morning; sleep well!"

He turned away... and then, without any conscious thought, I found myself saying, "Please, sir, would you please return the key to the padlock on my wrist cuffs to my Mistress? It would be proper for her to have the key to the last shackles between me and my freedom, don't you agree?" He looked back at me for just a moment, then just nodded and left, turning the light out and leaving me in total darkness with no less than six solid padlocks between me and freedom!

Well, I told myself as I tried to get comfortable on the sacks, this is the classic case of "making your bed and having to lie in it" ... literally! But at the same time I was intensely happy and content, because the last two hours or so had proved that my Mistress had accepted my submission and was indeed treating me as she wished without any consultation with me! As a result, I slept like the proverbial log!

I awoke with a firm nudge in my ribs. Looking up, I saw that it came from the sharp toe of a boot worn by Brenda. She was also wearing a tight halter top and a skirt, short enough for me to catch a glimpse of red briefs cupping her pussy. "Time for breakfast, slave," she said cheerfully. "Your Mistress is having hers now, and afterwards she wants to come and inspect your quarters. And she tells me you don't need your hands to eat; this I've got to see!"

She put down a large bowl containing a nondescript mash, then stood back and watched as I heaved myself stiffly to my knees and bent over to start eating doggy-fashion. I was starving and would have eaten anything, but in fact the food was a delicious mixture of cereals and fruit. Brenda chuckled at the view, ran her hands briefly over my bum and cock and balls and then left, carefully re-locking the door behind her.

After eating I had time to look around; the room was still quite dark, because it had only one small window which, sure enough, was heavily barred. I found my cock getting hard at the fascinating thought that padlocks and bars could be used not only to keep thieves out, but also to make a very effective prison for people like me! It was so exciting to know that I was so securely imprisoned, totally dependent on someone else to come and free me.

After a while the door creaked open again, this time to admit my Mistress with Brenda; I had time to pose myself, kneeling with my legs apart, before she caught sight of me. But she barely glanced at me; she seemed to be more interested in the heaviness of the chain on my ankle and the thickness of the bars on the window!

"Just perfect, Brenda," she spoke to her almost as if I wasn't there. "I did want him to be well secured for the night; I was afraid that he might have second thoughts, right after making himself my slave, body and soul! But there was no chance he could escape from here! By the way, where's Dan this morning? I want to thank him for locking my slave up so securely."

Brenda blushed slightly. "Ah yes," she said, a little shamefacedly. "Well, as a matter of fact, he's still in our bedroom, naked and tied spreadeagled to the corners of the bed! You see, your slave here told us quite a lot about himself and you and, after Dan fixed him up for the night, he came into the bedroom expecting to find me eager to be tied up and treated as a slave!

"As a matter of fact, I had slightly different ideas! Although we'd never even thought of doing anything like this before talking with your slave here, we talked it over and I persuaded Dan to submit to being my 'slave' for a day or two first. I tied him up with stockings and teased him a lot, then made him give me several climaxes with his tongue. Neither of us slept much, especially Dan; he's been bound in one way or another all night, but this morning we both agreed we haven't had so much fun in years!"

She grinned. "Later he might change his tune a bit, though. I wanted him to prepare the guests' breakfasts this morning, but he just smiled cheekily and refused. So I left him tied, and promised that I'd come back when I have time to give him a suitable penalty. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well," said my Mistress with a smile, "How about leaving him tightly tied up in here for a couple of hours? Tell you what -- unlock this chain from my slave's ankle and use it around his neck as a leash. Then I'll give you some hints on good tight bondage!"

At last I got some attention! After Brenda took the heavy chain that had kept me so securely, my Mistress said to me, "I see they took pity on you and removed your gag; and I'm very pleased with you for not showing any sign of interrupting. Obviously, you survived in here -- another taste of the sort of things that might happen to you as my true slave.

"If you didn't like it, that's too bad; you no longer have any say at all! Probably there will be opportunities in the future for you to escape. But there will be NO opportunities for discussion! Either we do it my way, or you won't be my slave any more. Is that quite clear?

"Good!" she went on after I nodded firmly. "I sort of guessed you'd see it my way!" She reached down to my crotch, where my cock was trying to burst its harness, and fondled it for a moment ... making it even more uncomfortable in its restrictions! "By the way, it looks like you made some converts last night. Congratulations and I'm proud of you!"

Just then Brenda returned, with a stark naked Dan following meekly behind her, his neck encircled by the heavy chain links. He was surprised to see us and somewhat embarrassed at being naked and bound; but after a few moments he gave me a rueful sort of grin and submitted cheerfully to being bound very securely to one of the uprights of the storage shelving.

"There!" said Brenda with mock sternness. "You can stay like that until you decide to obey my orders about your chores!" Then she continued to my Mistress, "By the way, when I woke him this morning, your slave had a very long look up under my skirt; is he allowed to do that?"

And I thought she hadn't noticed! My Mistress sighed deeply and replied, "Slaves will be slaves, you know! But if you like, he'll try to make up for his impertinence by ... shall we say ... giving you a little pleasure with his tongue on the very place he looked at without your permission?"

Brenda liked the idea very much, so I spent about fifteen minutes with my head buried under her skirt and my lips and tongue busy on her fragrant pussy. The skirt muffled their voices so that I couldn't make out the words, but they chatted the whole time ... except when Brenda started panting and then moaned softly as my eager attentions brought her to a climax.

I emerged from under her skirt to find my Mistress casually playing with Dan's cock, which was rock hard from the caresses of her clever fingers. "I find it's best," she was saying, "to keep my slave excited a lot of the time, but not to let him come too often; that way, he has more incentive to be properly obedient and humble.

"Of course," she went on, squeezing Dan's prick-head firmly to stop him from climaxing, then pinching his nipples for good measure, "you have to work out what's best for you. As for you, Mister Dan, if Brenda is kind enough to try being your slave sometime, treat her strictly but kindly, give her lots of pleasure, and I'm very sure that you'll have some wonderful times together.

"But now we really must be moving on," she finished. "Come along, slave!" And she calmly led me straight into the bright sunshine and along to our room! For a moment I was terrified that I might be seen from the nearby highway, but then I discovered that now I trusted her so completely that it hardly bothered me! I happily obeyed her instructions to pack our bags and put them in the car before I was allowed to shower and dress for the day's drive home.

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That was three weeks ago. Every spare minute of my time since then has been spent on this record of "Our Holiday". Tomorrow I'll be visiting my Mistress again, for only the fifth time in those three weeks, and she told me last time she expects this to be finished.

The other times, she made me strip naked, kneel at her feet and read aloud what I'd written. Then she tied my wrists to my ankles, with my arms between my knees so that my bum was conveniently presented, and read it herself; for every error she found and marked, I got one resounding whack with the paddle. Needless to say, my spelling and grammar have improved out of sight! Apart from that, she's hardly touched me.

One other thing: I've resigned from my job! Today was my last day at work!

Just before she left me after our drive home, my Mistress ordered me to do it, saying that she wants me to live with her as a full-time slave! Since then she hasn't mentioned it again; she's clearly just assuming that I'll obey! But last visit, as she was telling me when she wanted to see me next (that's tomorrow!), she added matter-of-factly: "... and don't expect to be allowed to leave again"!!!

I wonder when she's planning to take up that free cruise. I can't wait!

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THE END

.. or is it only the beginning?