Chapter 1
It was
three hours later and the setting sun cast golden rays across the large
sitting-room of the penthouse suite. In the distance the peaks of the Alps,
still with a crown of snow, were illuminated with a pink glow. From the long
front windows Gerda could see the satin-smooth Mediterranean, with yachts and
motor-cruisers leisurely making for Cannes or Villefranche before dusk set in.
She
lay back in the comfortable armchair and closed her eyes, at peace with the
world. With his usual psychological instinct, Guy had instructed her on their
arrival at the Villa to return to her own quarters, rest for an hour or so,
then join him in the penthouse for drinks. "You may dress as you wish, as
if you were going out for an evening with your date. And no mask."
It had
been a wise move, as Gerda was exhausted after her shattering heat torture. She
had staggered upstairs and let Maria unpeel her heavy suits. Then she had taken
a long cool bath, put on a thin rubber kimono and lain down on her bed. She
felt better already.
She
called in Maria, looking at the cute little waif with enormous affection.
"Maria, I honestly think you saved my life today. I certainly must have
fainted and might easily have choked on my gag while I was unconscious. How on
earth did you happen to come along?"
Maria
flashed a smile through her mask. "I thought you might be in trouble,
Mistress. I knew you were being sent to work in the garden and I know how thick
those suits and masks were. It's been one of the hottest days we've had this
year and probably Mistress Monica, in her air-conditioned summerhouse, didn't
realise the temperature outside. I asked slave 40 to buzz through on some
pretext to find out which part of the grounds you had been sent to. Then I came
to find you, but I had to make a big detour, as someone might have seen me
crossing the big lawn."
"Yes,
you took a helluva risk even so, the main drive is strictly out of bounds to
serving-maids. You know how grateful I am, though. That bitch gave me the extra
punishment of bending down and working in the most exposed piece of ground in
the entire place. I've never been so hot in my life, even in a punishment heat
cell."
She
had slept for an hour, feeling back to normal when she awoke. After much
deliberation and searching through her now vast wardrobe, she chose a thin
white evening dress in very soft rubber, fitting tightly from the neck to the
waist, then falling in loose folds to her feet. Maria brought out a pair of
white evening shoes, but Gerda had other ideas.
"No,
I don't want to feel too relaxed. Bring me the very high white boots with the
six-inch heels. They were only delivered the other day, but you'll have to lace
them onto me."
It
took Maria nearly fifteen minutes to complete the lacing of the superb white
leather boots which came to the very top of Gerda's long legs. She stood
carefully in the thin ultra-high heels and regarded her nude image in the
mirror. She noticed with approval she was as slim as ever and her round breasts
were as firm as when she was eighteen. Maria clucked admiringly.
"What
a lovely sight, Mistress, and what a perfect figure. I wish I was tall like you
and had your boobs."
"Rubbish,
You may be small but you have lovely proportions. When I was sixteen I tried to
crouch down and stop myself growing taller, I wanted to be tiny and petite with
no breasts. Instead I went on growing and growing. Aren't those boots terrific?"
They
were indeed. The white gleaming leather, now tightly laced from ankle to top,
swept smoothly up from the stiletto heels to the very peak of her thighs.
Although comfortable, she felt pleasantly constricted.
"What
a pity they won't be appreciated, Mistress, they'll be covered by the long
dress."
Gerda
gave an enigmatic smile. "Don't worry; I'll make sure Le Comte will
appreciate them. Come on, get me into my dress, I'm off to the ball. At least
it won't be too tight; I must have lost several kilos this afternoon."
The
dress was stunning. When Maria had zipped up the back, the waist and bodice
moulded tightly round Gerda's torso, her pointed breasts pushing saucily out
against the thin rubber, the nipples two hard points. The tight sleeves and
high mandarin collar gave her a virginal appearance and the long full skirt
rustled demurely to the floor. She wore no pants, as the material was so fine
they would have spoilt the unbroken line of the dress.
"Guy
doesn't want a mask, but I think I'll wear thin latex gloves, long white ones.
It's funny how I feel naked these days if I'm not gloved. Let's go. You took
everything I may need up to the penthouse and told 40 he was free for the next
twenty-four hours?"
"Yes,
Mistress. I think he's very curious about where you disappear to every week or
so, but I tell him nothing."
Now
Gerda opened her eyes as the sunbeams gradually died and the sun disappeared
behind the Alps. She had arrived ten minutes earlier and Guy had called out
from the bedroom he was not quite dressed and to mix a shaker of vodka
martinis. Maria had retired to her own room adjoining the suite.
The
bedroom door opened and Le Comte strode in. Slowly Gerda stood up, her eyes
feasting on his strong saturnine face, then gave a cry of delight at his
costume. He wore heavy loose breeches made of very thick and extra shiny black latex,
strapped below the knee with gold buckles, covering black latex stockings. On
top was a loose Cossack shirt of the same gleaming material, belted at the
waist by a wide black leather belt. On his feet he wore black patent pumps. It
was almost a foppish costume of the 18th Century, but Guy's tall figure wore it
with masculine ease. She loved the muted rustle as he crossed the room.
His
eyes showed approval and appreciation of her white outfit. Not wearing a mask,
she had made up her face to subtly complement her wide mouth and large blue
eyes. There was little she could do with her silky blonde hair, which as a top
model in Paris had reached to her waist and then had been cruelly cropped off
after she arrived on the Island, but the urchin-cut which she was now
accustomed to looked youthfully attractive.
Guy
bowed and kissed her gloved hand, his eyes twinkling. "Madam, may I say
you are the loveliest lady in the room? A vision in virginal white, ready to be
taken to the Royal Ball. But let's have a drink first."
She
curtseyed. "Thank you, kind Sir and Master. May I return the compliment by
saying those sexy breeches are turning me on and I may rape you at any moment!
They're fabulous!"
He
laughed and moved over to the bar, the breeches rustling and moving like black
molten metal. "It's very thick but very soft and, as you say, it has a
very high shine. I think at last we've got the right formula. It is,
incidentally, water-repellent and very stretchy, so it makes it ideal material
for grease pants."
Gerda
gave a small shiver of pleasure at the thought. She accepted the martini which
Guy had poured from the shaker and they sat down opposite each other.
"I've
been very wicked," she said anxiously. "I haven't knelt or paid
homage, but I feel undressed without my mask."
He
laughed. "Relax. Your training will start later, for the moment you're my
lovely wife having a pre-dinner drink. How goes your Mistress programme?"
"Rather
too well at times. I'm getting a huge kick out of it and I'm just scared I'll lose
my masochism and become a bad slave."
"No
chance of that. It's born into you and you're lucky enough to be able to swing
either way at will. Besides, that's why either Laura or myself will come up
every week or two, just to keep you in practice."
She
looked at the shiny loose breeches and had an irresistible urge to kneel down
and bury her face between his legs. "What does La Baronessa say about my
progress?"
"Most
complimentary. You've surprised her although she still thinks you're too
lenient and always worrying about the slave's feelings. But you're getting
valuable experience."
"Experience
for what, Master? I just want to come back to the Island and be your slave and
wife and love you."
Guy
flicked an amused glance. "Tut! In a year or two you would become immune
to your punishments and thoroughly bored. No, the secret is always to go
forward to new experiences. I think it was your Robert Louis Stevenson who said
'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive and the true success is
to labour'. Now, I want to tell you briefly of my plans for the future."
He
stood up and crossed to the wall switches, flooding the darkening room with
lights from the cut-glass chandeliers. She watched, mesmerised, his rippling
black costume as he moved. Casually she lifted her skirt slightly and stretched
out her legs, aware that her hard nipples were straining through the thin
rubber of her dress.
"I've
talked this over very thoroughly with Miss Dodds and Laura and also with La
Baronessa and Zed, my old friend. For several years now I've had to turn away
hundreds of enquiries from Mistresses - and Masters - to train their male
slaves. Apparently in this present age there are far more masochistic men than
women, although, like yourself, I suspect a great many women don't realise that
under their cloak of civilisation there lies a masochist longing to be
dominated. However, until now I have always referred them to La Baronessa, just
as she always referred the training of female slaves to my establishment."
Gerda
eased her dress to her knees and wished she was wearing a Rod, although the
thin dress clung excitingly to her nude body.
"La
Baronessa tells me she cannot cope with the number of male slaves who apply for
training, either by themselves or sponsored by their Mistress or Master. I'm
talking, of course, about the genuine applicants who can pay the very large
fees involved."
He
paused to light a cigarette, blowing out raw blue smoke.
"So,
I've decided, with everyone's approval, that we will now accept male slaves to
the Island."
"A
sort of coeducational school?" Gerda said lightly.
"No.
We will have to re-organise the entire schedules and programmes, because the
males will not mix with the females, except on special occasions. And that's
where you come in."
She
looked up, her interest quickening. "Me? How d'you mean?"
"Can't
you guess? When you've completed your Mistress training here, an expert on male
slaves, you will return to the Island to become a Mistress, mainly to the
males." He held up a hand before she could protest. "However, once a
week, and possibly at other times, you will spend twenty-four hours as my slave
and the slightest relaxation of your slavery will be severely dealt with by The
Executioner. And if I happen to be away, you will report to Laura for your
weekly slavehood. I'm sure you'll find it a very full and interesting life. Now
please stand up and lift your dress, I've noticed you've been trying to intrigue
me with your new boots."
Gerda
grinned impishly and slowly rose, then gathered her full skirt and lifted it up
to her waist, revealing the high white boots. She pivoted slowly on the
stiletto heels, exposing her nude bottom.
"It's
shamefully white, Master," she said demurely, "It needs the kiss of
your whip. But the branding healed beautifully." Guy leant forward and
inspected the two initials 'G'- for Guy and Gerda - which he had branded onto
each cheek of her bottom three months earlier at her Passing-out ceremony,
attended by almost everyone on the Island. It had been a proud moment for her
and she had accepted the searing pain with fortitude and dignity. The angry red
scars had healed quickly and were now a smooth dark brown against the white
skin.
As she
lowered the dress he turned her round and next moment she was in his arms and
they were kissing like two desperate young lovers.