Chapter 1

 

Three weeks passed and Gerda had resumed her special Training. Necessary, as Miss Dodds informed her genially, to keep up the high standard required from a Top-Level Slave. Her daily Whipping was increased to two hundred and fifty strokes and her new Whipping Suit did not have a double-thick bottom. But now she had no difficulty in turning the pain into glorious masochistic pleasure.

Apart from the 1 litre enema given every morning by Maria, she was now forced to endure a 2-litre washout once a week. After it was administered, a thick rubber plug was chained tightly up her bottom and she was ordered to 'relax' in the Slaves' Rest Room for a full hour before she was allowed to claim the key of the padlocked chain and retire to her quarters to unlock her plug and relieve herself. This subtle torture she found hard to endure, as sheer pride prevented her from informing the other girls in the Rest Room that she was ignominiously carrying two litres of an enema washout and was firmly corked.

She seldom incurred Demerits now and usually if she did it was through carelessness. But her mind had sharpened and she was no longer the placid Parisian model who had arrived at the island all those months ago expecting to laze happily in the sun.

She gloried in her advanced Slavehood and frequently took time out to calm and instruct new recruits, trying to make them understand Le Comte's philosophy and helping them to get over the first fearful days of Training. Every Friday evening she reported to Le Comte for dinner, where she was allowed to remove her mask and gloves. Later, she would take a shower in his sumptuous bathroom and join him in bed, sometimes naked and other times dressed in some exotic rubber costume he had devised. Their love-making was ecstatic, sometimes tempestuous, other times slow and gentle. In the early morning she would leave his suite, properly dressed and masked again and return to her own quarters.

One time, on her 'free' day, Guy had taken her across to the mainland, heavily costumed, and they had driven on his powerful Honda to a superb restaurant fifty kilometres away, two black-rubbered bodies totally encased against the elements. They had eaten in the garden of the trattoria in the hot sunlight, removing only their crash helmets and gauntlets, the rubber coats and long boots giving off a strong odour as they heated up in the sun until their inner latex suits were dripping and they were laughing like two naughty children.

She had hardly seen the Executioner, most of her daily Training sessions being carried out by one of the Instructors.

The call came one night about eleven. Maria had retired to her dormitory and Gerda was sitting in bed, reading, dressed in thin black latex pyjamas. The intercom system which had been installed after reaching Top-Level Slavehood, buzzed suddenly. She pressed the switch.

"Slave Gerda here."

It was the Executioner, her voice low and husky. "I've missed you, Slave Gerda. I want you to come to my quarters."

"Now, Mistress? I'm in bed."

"Now, Slave. Are you wearing pyjamas?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then keep them on and put on high-heeled knee boots, gloves and a tight leather mask. And a long rubber cape. If I remember you have a heavy white one with a gold collar. I'll expect you in five minutes."

The line went dead. Hastily Gerda scrambled out of bed and dressed, finally buckling the heavy rubber cape round her neck.

Laura's suite was on the second floor. Gerda knocked at the door and was told to enter. She bowed to her Mistress, fearful of what this late call might entail.

The Executioner was wearing loose harem trousers of royal blue rubber-lined silk, tucked into blue leather boots. Her splendid upper torso was nude, but a silver latex mask covered her head and was laced round her neck.

"Take off your cape, Gerda, I was only thinking of your modesty in case you met an Instructor on the way down. Would you like a brandy?"

Gerda threw the heavy cape over a chair. "Yes, please. Is this, uh, an official visit, Mistress?"

Laura laughed, white teeth flashing through the mouth of the mask. "Dear me, no. I was hoping you had been expecting my call."

Gerda accepted the balloon glass and took a long sip of the fiery cognac. "I'm honoured, Mistress, but it's very late-"

The grey eyes narrowed. "Nonsense. And don't play games. You know very well why you're here."

Gerda felt her heart sink. She said nothing.

"Would you like to hear the second tape, Gerda? It was most revealing. A classic, almost."

Gerda sighed. "No, thank you, I'll take your word for it."

Laura smiled again. They understood each other, there was no necessity to waste time. "Then come across and kiss my nipples."

Gerda put down her glass and came slowly across the room, now furious with herself because the sight of Laura's proud naked breasts was exciting her. Gently she let her thin latex gloves stroke Laura's shoulders, then she bent and took an upturned nipple into her mouth through the tight leather mask.

Next moment they were straining at each other; rubber, silk and latex meshing and rustling, gloved hands stroking and probing, words tumbling out as they explored each other's bodies. Finally Laura broke away. "Into the bedroom, darling, get between those shining black sheets and let me love you properly."

In the big double bed, the cool black rubber sheets faintly perfumed and powdered, Gerda lost all control of herself. She felt Laura's warm hand on her thinly-latexed crotch and she pressed her lips against the silver mask, then moved her leathered head down until her lips were locked against Laura's and their tongues were greedily exploring each other's mouth, darting snakes of desire. Gerda closed her eyes and pushed herself on top of Laura, her masked face close to Laura's silver hood.

"Not now, but someday, I want to see your face, Laura. You must let me have that honour." Then she gently slid her body beneath the rubber sheet until she could take the hard nipples in her mouth again.

Laura moaned and arched her body, her hands caressing Gerda's thin latex trousers. Gerda moved slowly down her lover's body.

 

 

It was four in the morning and the two weary girls were sitting finishing their brandies. Gerda's pyjamas had been ripped off and she had donned the long white cape and wrapped it round her glowing body. Laura had lost her harem trousers and was now dressed in a long red rubber house-coat which zipped tightly up to the neck.

"It's strange, Laura," said Gerda dreamily, "but now I don't feel the slightest bit guilty. How can I love you and Guy at the same time? Am I ready for the Guinness Book of Records?"

Laura lifted her glass, the heavy rubber crackling loudly as she moved. "It's not so unusual, you know. Just as we all have a percentage of masochism and sadism in our blood, we also have a percentage of opposite hormones. Nobody is completely 'normal'. You are one of the lucky ones, you can swing either way."

"Do you resent sharing me with Guy?"

"Of course I'm a little jealous when 1 think of you in his arms. But no, now I don't resent it. I love and respect Guy immensely and I know, at long last, he's found a wife worthy of him."

"I wonder," Gerda said glumly. "How can I be worthy of him when I behave like this with you? What would he say if he found out?"

Laura's grey eyes were soft through the silver hood. "He's smarter than you think. He understands women better than any man I've ever known. I'm sure he suspects your slight lesbian inclinations."

"Slight! You call the last four hours 'slight'? I wallowed in every minute of it; I'm obviously a sex maniac. But you may be right, Guy did mention something about finding out about my lesbian instincts. You-you haven't shown him anything?"

"No. And I never shall. Not even if you'd rejected me completely. It was only a threat. I'd never deliberately hurt him."

Gerda was silent for a minute, a peaceful euphoria warming her body. "What happens now? I want to be punished by you every day. Can you arrange it?"

Laura stood up to replenish their glasses, her rubber coat crackling loudly and making Gerda stir with desire. "No, I can't do that. My duties are to oversee and sometimes carry out genuine Punishments. I certainly can't casually take over your every-day Training."

"Then I'll start behaving disgracefully and incur hundreds of Demerits. Then you'll have to whip me every day." She felt weak at the wonderful thought.

"You'll do nothing of the sort. Just cool it and let me make the arrangements. Under no circumstances will I allow our relationship to interfere with your status here. You're a Top-Level Slave now and the wife of the Master of the Island. It's time you went back to your quarters. We both must get some sleep."

Reluctantly Gerda stood up, clutching the heavy cloak around her. She finished her brandy and put down the glass, then crossed over to Laura and knelt in front of her, pressing her masked face against the heavy red house-coat.

"Please let me see your face sometime, darling Laura. My image of you is limited to a variety of different masks. I know your eyes and your teeth and your mouth and your hair. Can't I see the rest?"

With some sadness Laura looked down at her now devoted and willing slave and lover. "It's maybe better to use your imagination, Gerda, and think of me as beautiful. Then you won't be disappointed."

Gerda looked up, her eyes shining through her leather mask. "One more time then, my lovely Mistress? We're both in heavy rubber. It would be good Training for your slave to see if she can take a Pleasure so well protected... please?"

Gerda returned to her quarters only ten minutes before Maria arrived with breakfast.