La Chatte Heureuse Pt. 04 Ch. 01-05

Tessa, Slave for the Summer

A La Chatte Heureuse (The Happy Pussy) story.

Foreword: La Chatte Heureuse is an exclusive lesbian club located in an old mansion on a remote island in the middle of a lake. The complex consists of a recently refurbished mansion and a collection of one and two storey annexes. Members and staff of the club belong to one of three castes -- Mistresses, Ladies and Slaves. Each caste has its own privileges, dress-code and rules. Members of the Slave caste choose to stay on the island in one of three categories: general, field, and bondage.

Staff of La Chatte Heureuse (& role):

Mistresses: Monique (Manager), Nicole (Receptionist), Rebecca (Slave overseer), Stephanie (Slave overseer)

Ladies: Fatima (Housekeeper), Grace (Steward for Mistress caste), Helen (Administration), Kirsty (Transport), Ruth (staff cook)

Slaves: Brooke (Administration), Elise (Administration), Judith (Maintenance), Olivia (Medical), Sheri (Housekeeping)

Principal visiting characters in this episode:

Mistresses: Selena, Celia, 'Lash'(Alina), Faye, Anastasia,

Ladies: Nadia, Raewyn,

Slaves: Tessa, Jessica, Sandra, 'Bambi'(Chrissy)

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Chapter 1: Tessa. Saturday Week 1 of Tessa's stay

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I was already feeling nervous as the minibus navigated the winding road to the lake. Now that we have transferred to the boat to take us to the island, I'm struggling to hold back a panic attack. What started out as a wonderful surprise holiday, has now transformed into a 'what the fuck were you thinking?' ordeal. The worst part of my situation is that it's entirely my own fault. I was given a choice. I was warned about the consequences of the choice I made. But I pushed ahead anyway.

"Nearly there, Tessa," says Kylie, mistaking my wan look for motion sickness.

The four of us started our journey as strangers. Our common link is winning the Sapphic Quarterly magazine's competition. A free holiday at the women-only island resort called La Chatte Heureuse. A quick on-line translation told me that the club's name means 'The Happy Pussy' in English... although not the domestic pet variety of pussy. The Mistress-Lady-Slave caste system on the island was fully explained to each of us, so I can't complain on that score. What is inexplicable and inexcusable is my choice to join the Slave caste for the duration of my stay. Perhaps it was the different duration of the prize that swayed my choice; one week's holiday as a member of the Mistress caste, three weeks as a Lady, or six weeks in the Slave caste. While I admit to being a lesbian... at least to a few of my close friends, I've never considered myself to be submissive... well, only in my wildest fantasies, but even then, not as a slave. But six weeks on an island resort fits with my immediate needs. My final year at university starts in seven weeks time, but being anywhere within reach of my parents over the summer break will drive me close to insanity. Anything is better than listening to their constant lectures on the evils of same-sex romances.

I study my travelling companions. We are all aged in our early to mid-twenties. I regard my waist-length wavy red hair as my best feature, even though wearing it long can sometimes be a nuisance. The others have shoulder length brown or black hair styled in a far more practical manner. Our choice of clothing suggests we come from wildly different backgrounds. Kylie is dressed in a latest designer jacket and trousers, while Nadia's fading dress must have seen several years of service. My blouse and jeans probably label me as a student, which I am. Raewyn is harder to categorise. Her bearing and neatly pressed clothing hint at a military background, although she seems to be too young to have served as more than a cadet.

None of us have revealed which caste we have chosen to join. Raewyn let slip that she starts her new job in four weeks, so her choice of caste is clearly different from mine. Kylie doesn't strike me as the sort who would submit to anyone, but I suppose that could also be said of me. For the moment we are all four equals, enjoying the pleasant view as we approach the secluded island.

As the boat nears the small jetty on the island, we get our first glimpse of the old mansion, just visible through the trees. The resort's brochure I received in the mail doesn't do justice the magnificent scenery around us. Nor does it convey the resort's isolation from any other habitation. We left the nearest town just after lunch, over an hour and a half ago.

"Welcome to La Chatte Heureuse," says the young woman dressed in a smart black leather outfit. "My name is Madame Nicole. I'm the receptionist for La Chatte Heureuse. I'll escort you to the administration block and complete your registration."

I recall the club rule that says members of the Mistress caste are called 'Madame' rather than 'Mistress' when being addressed. We grab our bags and follow Madame Nicole to a two level building located to one side of the mansion. My nervousness has subsided for the moment. The pleasant surroundings and friendly welcome have dispelled some of the torrid scenarios my vivid imagination had created on the journey here. I'm the last in line at the reception desk. That's entirely my fault, as the sight of two women working in the garden caused me to pause as we walked from the jetty. It's one thing being told about the dress code for the Slave caste, but seeing it in real life is another matter. Communal living at university means that plenty of the female students have seen my tits, so I convinced myself that shouldn't be any different here. However, mentally agreeing to do something doesn't always match with reality.

At the reception desk, Madame Nicole is joined by two other members of staff. One is obviously a member of the Slave caste from her attire... notably her naked chest. I recall that a person's name is displayed on a necklace or collar around her neck, and the colour of the lettering denotes her caste... white letters for slaves, blue for ladies, and black for mistresses. Slave Brooke and Lady Helen are assisting Madame Nicole with the task of registering our arrival and introducing us to the lifestyle of La Chatte Heureuse. It's only during the registration process that we learn of each other's choice of caste. From here on it will be Madame Kylie, Ladies Raewyn and Nadia, and yours truly, Slave Tessa.

Once we confirm our identities, and reaffirm our choice of caste, we are registered into the island's security network. Our palm prints are recorded, which enables us to unlock those doors and gates that our caste is permitted to open. Needless to say, mistresses can open all doors and gates, while slaves can only open doors into communal areas. Finally we are divided by caste. Brooke takes me into a different room, while Lady Helen attends to Raewyn and Nadia at the reception desk. I presume Madame Nicole is looking after Kylie, but I'm too busy listening to Brooke to pay attention to them.

"We must find you a suitable outfit to wear," says Brooke, showing me a chain necklace with my name spelt out in white letters at the front.

"Are you used to submitting to another person's commands, or is this a new experience for you?" asks Brooke.

"This is all new to me," I confess. "I was swept up in the excitement of winning the competition. Six weeks on an island resort sounded too good to miss. However, I glossed over the fact that I'll be a slave. Will I be expected to do a lot of work?"

"Yes, all slaves are expected to work during their stay. However, you will be classified as a 'general slave', which means you won't be required to do any heavy manual work. 'Field slaves' do the heavy work in exchange for a discount on the cost of their stay. The lifestyle at La Chatte Heureuse is designed to provide enjoyment to all guests regardless of their caste. Even those classified as 'bondage slaves' normally gain pleasure from their stay here, although in their case, you need to have the right temperament to appreciate the experience."

Brooke shows me an assortment of tops and skirts. The tops all have the common feature of leaving my tits completely exposed. Some styles are more confining, pushing the wearer's tits close together. Other styles lift and separate. I opt for a cotton under-bust corset that lifts my tits without squeezing them together. I notice Brooke is wearing something similar, although hers is made of a synthetic material.

The choice of skirt is dictated by height, and the size and shape of the wearer's arse. The standard design appears to be a short length skirt ending about six inches above the knee. The slit on one side of the skirt enables free movement of the legs, although it means flashing your thigh when you walk. The rear of the skirt is shaped to hug the wearer's arse like a second skin.

"What about shoes?" I ask.

"No shoes," says Brooke. "Slaves go barefoot unless you are assigned to work somewhere that requires protective clothing and footwear."

"I presume I'm allowed to keep my panties on?" I ask.

"Yes, if you wish, and providing a mistress doesn't order you to remove them," replies Brooke, lifting her skirt to reveal her nakedness under her skirt.

I'm unsure about going without panties, but I recall that my joining instructions made it clear that I must obey anyone of the Mistress caste without question. My only right of refusal is if the instruction requires me to endure or carry out a prohibited action. Those prohibited actions include causing permanent damage and committing criminal acts. However, being subjected to corporal punishment, or being told to strip naked, are all well within permissible bounds.

"You are now a member of the Slave caste," says Brooke, fastening the necklace with my name around my neck. "Remember, you must obey any mistress who gives you an order. If you have completed whatever task you have been given, then ask the mistress who set you the task if she is satisfied with your work. If she has finished with you, then report to the Slave Holding Area. That's the room with the yellow door at the south end of this building. Depending on the time of day, you will either be assigned a new task, or allowed to go to the recreation building until lock-up."

"What about my belongings?" I ask. "The bus driver confiscated my phone."

"Lady Kirsty has placed your phone in your locker over here. The clothes you were wearing when you arrived will be stored in there as well. All the lockers have two combination locks. One you control, and one the staff mistresses control. You're not allowed access to your personal belongings during your stay here, unless a staff mistress permits it. Put your things in the locker and set the combination on your lock. Make sure you remember the combination."

"What do I do now?" I ask, when I've finished locking my things away.

"Go to the Slave Holding Area... down that corridor to the room with the yellow door. Don't worry, you won't be ignored or forgotten, and remember that you aren't allowed to leave this building without permission from a mistress. The fastener to your necklace contains a microchip that enables the staff to monitor your location. Take that as both reassurance that someone is looking out for you, and as a warning that any unauthorised roaming will be spotted, and a punishment will follow. And don't make the mistake of removing your necklace, even to take a shower. Unfastening the necklace will trigger an alarm."

I'm impressed at how thorough the arrangements are for delivering a visitor's chosen lifestyle while on the island. Brooke returns to her desk and I go down the corridor in search of the room with a yellow door. There's no sign of Kylie, Nadia and Raewyn. Everywhere here is well signposted, so I easily find the room with a sign on the wall proclaiming it to be the 'Slave Holding Area'. I'm briefly stymied by the locked door, until I remember to use the palm-pad to unlock the door. The palm-pad is coloured white, which means anybody can unlock the door. That makes me wonder why they bother locking the door at all?

I enter the room through a short glass corridor with doors either end like an airlock. The second door will only open once the first door is closed. Inside the room are seats, cushions and tables that resemble a sheik's harem. There are three other slaves in the room sat talking to each other.

"Hi, I'm Tessa," I say to the group. "I've just arrived on the island, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Hi Tessa," replies the oldest of the women. "I'm Harriet... or Harry, as I'm called among our caste. The Nubian goddess here is Dabala, and the young fair-haired lass is Gemma."

When Harry says 'young lass', she's referring to a woman in her mid to late twenties, so Gemma is a few years older than me. Dabala is, as Harry says, a brown skinned beauty, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. Harry is several years older, but I estimate that she's no older than forty. Her body is well toned with only the slightest evidence of sag in her tits.

"Take a seat, Tessa," says Harry. "You'll soon learn to appreciate whatever rest you can get."

The brochure and joining instructions I was given emphasized that I should be careful not to reveal too much about my real life. While applicants are thoroughly vetted before being accepted as members of La Chatte Heureuse, there's still a small risk of someone using personal information gleaned during a visit to the island for blackmail or harassment later. Even I had to participate in an on-line interview to verify my suitability to come here.

I soon learn that Harry, Dabala and Gemma are classified as field slaves, which means they will be assigned the more onerous tasks in exchange for a generous discount on the cost of their stay. They tell me that 'Field Slave' is a misnomer, as a lot of the work they perform is carried out indoors. I'm unsure what duties I'll be required to perform as a 'general slave'. The brochure simply referred to 'light duties'.

I study the Slave Holding Area in more detail. I discover that the palm-pad on this side of the door is coloured blue, meaning only Mistresses and Ladies can open the airlock doors from this side. We are stuck in here until someone comes for us. The room has some basic facilities. There's a small kitchenette along one wall, with mugs and jars of coffee and tea. A hot water dispenser is mounted on the wall and a small fridge holds milk and bottles of chilled water. There's no food, but I suppose you can't have everything. A shoulder high screen in the corner of the room shields a toilet and small washbasin. There's no further privacy offered if a slave needs to answer a call of nature while in this room.

Books and other forms of entertainment are noticeably absent, so those here must create their own amusement. It's early afternoon, so it seems likely that we will be assigned work rather than being granted additional recreation time. The brochure said that all slaves are allowed a minimum of two hours free time each day, but it didn't go into details.

The door opens a few minutes later and a woman dressed in a leather jacket, trousers and boots enters the room. I copy the actions of the other three slaves and promptly stand with my hands on my head.

"Shit! Madame Selena," whispers Gemma to me while the new arrival is opening the inner door to the airlock.

Madame Selena walks directly to where I am standing. She looks at me carefully as though choosing a cut of meat at the supermarket. When she looks at my face, I quickly lower my eyes... partly out of some natural instinct to display submission, and partly out of embarrassment at her close appraisal of my exposed tits.

"Hmm. Nice behaviour; nice hair; nice face; nice tits; nice arse," murmurs Madame Selena to me.

I suppress a gasp of surprise when Madame Selena takes hold of my tits and runs her hands over them. I briefly look into her eyes before lowering my eyes again.

"Tsk! Tsk! That's naughty, Slave Tessa. You must learn to keep those eyes lowered. Now, follow me."

I glance at Harry, Gemma and Dabala, but their lowered eyes and static bodies don't give me any sign of encouragement. I quickly follow Madame Selena out of the room.

"I'm informed that this is your first time on the island," says Madame Selena as she walks in front of me.

"Yes, Mistress," I reply.

I nearly collide into Madame Selena's back when she stops abruptly. She turns to face me with a scowl on her face.

"Madame... not Mistress, Slave! You must always call a member of the Mistress caste 'Madame'. I think our first stop on this tour shall be the punishment devices and cells in the dungeon. Maybe if you understand the consequences of your mistakes, you may try harder to obey our rules."

"I'm sorry for my mistake, Madame. I promise to try my best to get it right."

"To be honest, I don't mind if you make mistakes," replies Madame Selena. "I always enjoy punishing a slave for a misdemeanour. You, however, might prefer to do more than simply 'try your best'. Unless, of course, you are like some of the slaves here who like their arses kept rosy red and warm. Are you one of those?"

"No, Madame. It isn't something I've ever had to put to the test."

"If you haven't tried the experience, then how do you know you won't like it?" muses Madame Selena. "Perhaps we need to find out sooner rather than later."

A funny feeling ripples through my body in response to Madame Selena's words. I can't determine whether it is fear or arousal.

"This is building E4," says Madame Selena as we approach a single level building with bars on the windows and a grill door in front of the entrance. "As you can tell from the bars and the sign by the door, this building is the main accommodation block for the Slave caste. We shall check which dormitory contains your allocated bed while we are here."

The blue palm-pad by the entrance grill indicates that only members of the Mistress and Lady castes can provide entry into the building. Madame Selena unlocks the grill and we step through the wooden door beyond, and into the inside of the building. There's a long corridor running down the middle of the building to a window at the far end. Doors are placed at intervals on either side of the corridor. Madame Selena checks a sheet pinned on a cork notice board by the door. I soon realise that it is a list of bed allocations for the current residents of E4.

"You're in bed E4-B7," says Madame Selena. "Let's check it out."

I follow Madame Selena along the corridor. The similarity of the corridor to the one in my old school is uncanny. However, instead of classrooms, the doors open into narrow dormitories, housing twelve single beds arranged along the two long walls... six beds on each side. Dormitory B is the second door on the left side of the corridor. Bed seven is at the far end of the right-hand line of beds, and the nearest to the sole window in the room.

"Lucky you," says Madame Selena. "You get a bed by the window. Fresh air when you need it. Now I'll show you where the showers, toilets and kitchen are located before we go down to the dungeon."

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Chapter 2: Selena. Saturday, Week 1 of Tessa's stay.

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Normally I dislike showing a first-time visitor around the island's facilities, particularly if she is a member of the Slave caste. All that doe-eyed wonder at La Chatte Heureuse's many facilities and pleasant surroundings; the naïve innocence of what life will be like for the duration of her stay here. However, I owed Nicole a favour after she helped me out of trouble when I punched that snotty cow, Faye. I'm not sure how Nicole achieved Faye's agreement not to make a major issue of our fight, but Faye and I eventually agreed to let the matter drop.

I don't pretend to be perfect. Most of the Mistress caste are super-rich bitches who like to push their weight around. I don't exclude myself from that label. But Faye is one of the worst, and I truly pity any slave who must submit to her demands. La Chatte Heureuse has strict rules about the severity and duration that a slave can be restrained and punished. After all, those of the Slave caste come here willingly, and they have normal lives to resume afterwards. Beating the shit out a some hapless young woman is a quick way to break the essential trust that must exist between mistress and slave. However, there are ways to push beyond the boundaries the club has designed to protect a slave's well being. Long serving members of the Mistress caste know how to circumvent many of those rules with a low risk of getting caught.

My own record isn't spotless, although I at least try to abide by the spirit of the club's rules. Faye seems to work on the principle that any reprimand for overstepping a boundary can be remedied by a generous payment to the club. It's a philosophy that seems to work. Faye never compensates a slave for the harm that's been caused. Some abused slaves never return to the island... others take precautions before arriving by persuading another mistress to claim exclusive rights over her for the duration of the slave's stay. If the mistress accepts, then the slave is classified as a 'chattel slave' of that mistress, and therefore off-limits to other mistresses... at least in theory. There are also ways around that arrangement, and Faye is an expert at circumventing the exclusivity of chattel slaves.

I study my new charge. Slave Tessa isn't even a club member. She's a winner of a competition, and she's elected to spend six weeks on the island as a slave. I've no idea what moment of insanity possessed her to do that, but that's none of my concern. If she regrets her choice... which she surely will, and soon... then she'll get no sympathy from me. Perhaps I should do her a favour and push her beyond what she can tolerate today. She can then run to Nicole with her tail between her legs, asking to cancel the remainder of her stay. The club isn't a prison, so anybody can end their scheduled stay if they want. However, the club never refunds more than twenty percent of the money paid. Although, in Slave Tessa's case, she would forfeit eighty percent of nothing, so it won't be a financial loss for her.

The information I've been given about Tessa is limited. She's twenty-two years old. Anal sex and breath-play are off-limits, but she's waived a wide range of other optional personal boundaries. I'm not sure that was wise given the length of her planned stay, but again, it's none of my concern. My own assessment of her is favourable so far. She's an attractive redhead who has kept herself fit and in good shape. I've no idea about her occupation. Her soft hands suggest an office job or light manual work. Possibly a musician or student. Nothing I've seen so far suggests she has lived a submissive lifestyle before, beyond the typical parental control at home.

"Before we go down to the dungeon, do you have any questions, Slave Tessa?" I ask as we conclude a brief tour of the Slave quarter's kitchen.

"Yes, Madame," replies Slave Tessa. "I notice that entry to this building requires a Mistress or Lady to unlock the door, but anybody can exit the building. Why is the door control like that?"

"You and the rest of your caste are slaves not prisoners. The locks and bars in this building are designed to prevent unauthorised entry into the building. The palm-pad at the gate enables a record to be kept of the mistresses and ladies who enter the slave quarters. There are no cameras inside any of the buildings, so recording who enters and leaves is a way of discouraging prohibited activity."

I hope Slave Tessa takes the hint in my reply. The security system on the island discourages mistresses and ladies from abusing their power over the slaves, but the system isn't foolproof. Mistresses like Faye often abuse their privileges. Only a few ever get caught and punished. La Chatte Heureuse gains most of its income from those of the Mistress caste, so expelling a mistress is a rarity. For most, a few weeks suspension is a minor inconvenience compared to the perverted enjoyment they gain from their actions.

"I shall now introduce you to the dungeon," I say to Slave Tessa. "If you are here for six weeks, then you are likely to become familiar with the equipment and cells in this dungeon. Perhaps you may also be a guest in the large dungeon in the tower."

"Yes, Madame," replies Slave Tessa, looking nervous as we descend the steps into the basement.

I take her through the cleverly designed pair of doors that provide access to the dungeon. A slave can only enter and leave the dungeon when accompanied by a mistress, but a member of the Lady caste can enter and leave on her own. It's a useful arrangement as slaves confined to the dungeon must be checked at least once an hour, and given the opportunity to use the standard safe-word 'pussycat' to gain release. The hourly check at night is a task usually assigned to a member of the Lady caste, even though she cannot release a slave from a cell, or the dungeon itself, without summoning a mistress. In reality, few slaves ever use the safe-word while confined to this dungeon.

"Do you understand the purpose of the safe-word, and when it should be used?" I ask.

"I believe so, Madame," replies Slave Tessa. "If I'm being subjected to something I dislike, then I can use the safe-word to stop it from happening."

"Hmm... I suggest you apply a higher threshold than 'dislike'. You will be subjected to many things that you may simply 'dislike'. If you use the safe-word too often, then no mistress or lady will have any interest in playing with you. Six weeks can be a long time if every mistress shuns you. If you wanted a comfy stay here, then you should have chosen the Lady caste. Slaves are here to be used by their betters, and you should expect to experience some rough treatment. That's what you signed up to endure. If you genuinely cannot tolerate what is happening, then don't hesitate to use the safe-word... otherwise suck it up."

I'm impressed that Slave Tessa doesn't fold in on herself at this point of the tour. I've known regular club members go numb once the gravity of their decision to come here as a slave hits home. As we enter the dungeon, Slave Tessa simply looks at the equipment and cells in wonder, without any trace of fear. Is she deluding herself, or has she discovered a previously unknown fetish for all that this represents? Although not usually part of the induction tour, I decide to test Slave Tessa's resolve.

"Do you know the purpose of this frame?" I ask, going over to one of the 'X' frames.

"For binding a slave's wrists and ankles wide apart," replies Slave Tessa, before realising her mistake, and belatedly adding, "... Madame."

"Yes, a punishment frame," I muse. "For holding a slave in position while she is reprimanded for her errors. Like just now. Stand in position against the frame."

To her credit, Slave Tessa doesn't baulk at my command. She moves over to the frame and rests her back against the frame. She spreads her arms and legs into position. I promptly fasten the cuffs to her wrists and ankles. Most slaves would instinctively face the other way round, exposing their back and arse to receive punishment. Facing away also hides any signs of fear or shame. Very few slaves prefer their tits to be the target of any attention. Is this a rookie mistake, or is she one of those submissives who like to face their punisher? I'm becoming more interested in Slave Tessa by the minute.

"You have nice tits, Slave Tessa," I say as I reach for a multi-strand light flogger. "Let's warm them up a bit, shall we?"

Although Slave Tessa's tits are already exposed, I unfasten her corset so that it doesn't get in the way. Undressing a slave is only ever a matter of unfastening a couple of laces or press-studs. The slave clothing used at La Chatte Heureuse is specially designed to enable easy removal, even if if the wearer is bound. Removing her top also emphasises the power being exerted over her body. Making a slave stand nude in front of her fully clothed mistress sends a powerful message to the slave. However, I leave Slave Tessa's skirt in place for now. I'll save the treat of removing it for another time.

I give Slave Tessa a close up view of my chosen flogger. It's one which will hurt but not leave any marks beyond a rosy red sheen on the target. Some slaves start crying at this point, others simply look on in horror. Slave Tessa does neither. Instead she looks me in the eye as if daring me to proceed. It's a common mistake among those new to the life of a slave. A slave should never look directly into her mistress's eyes unless commanded to do so. That's an additional stroke of the flogger she's just earned.

"Eyes down, Slave Tessa," I warn. "Defiance will only earn you additional punishment."

At least she obeys, although she doesn't quite pull off the look of contrition. Slave Tessa displays the sort of spirit normally reserved for slaves comfortable with their submissive lifestyle. In my experience, very few newcomers can achieve that level of equanimity over their emotions. Whether Slave Tessa realises it or not, she's a natural submissive that any mistress would love to call her own.

Slave Tessa's attractive and well looked after body is a bonus. To my mind, far too many of the women who join the Slave caste are guilty of not looking after themselves... mentally or physically. They are like rudderless ships on an ocean, seeking someone to take control of their life. It's almost as though the caste is a magnet for those who lack self-discipline, and who have failed to find companionship and love through more traditional means. Unfortunately, few of the Slave caste will find what they seek during a short stay on the island. All they usually achieve is an experience that underscores their already low opinion of themselves. There are exceptions, of course. Slaves Brooke and Elise, on the staff here, are just such exceptions. Slave Tessa shows signs that she may be another.

"Six lashes of the flogger on your tits, Slave Tessa," I warn. "If you wish to beg for mercy, then now is the time to do so."

I pleased that Slave Tessa saves her breath. I detest slaves who beg when they are about to be punished for errors they blatantly made. On the contrary, Slave Tessa thrusts out her chest so that I have a better angle.

"Count the strokes," I command as the first blow strikes the top of Slave Tessa's tits.

"One, Madame," comes a steady reply.

Only on the fifth and sixth strokes does Slave Tessa's voice show a hint of the pain she must be feeling. But she stoically refuses to whine and beg. Once I've delivered the sixth stroke, I toss the flogger on a nearby table and run my hands over Slave Tessa's exposed body. She gasps as I gently slide my hand across the abused part of her tits. I dip my hand down over her abdomen and between her legs to test her reaction. At this point slaves generally fall into two categories; those who close in on themselves and resent any physical contact, and those who have become aroused. The dampness of Slave Tessa's panties suggests she's clearly in the second category. I muse to myself whether she's aroused enough for me to bring her to an orgasm.

"You're wet down there," I whisper into her ear, withdrawing my hand so that we can both sniff the moisture on my fingers. "Hmm... Well this isn't piss, so I can only conclude that you're a dirty little slut who likes to be flogged. Am I right, Slave Tessa."

Normally a new slave would be too embarrassed or frightened to answer such a question. But Slave Tessa is obviously made of sterner stuff.

"The flogging did funny things to my insides, Madame," replies Slave Tessa. "It hurt, but as soon as the initial pain wore off, I felt a warm and pleasant feeling rippling through my lower body."

I push my hand back down her panties and rub her clit with my forefinger. It has the expected result. Slave Tessa's eyes go wide as I tease her clit. I detect that she's quickly reaching an orgasm. She must be really aroused by what is happening.

"You must always ask permission before you have an orgasm, Slave Tessa. Failure to do so will result in more punishment."

"Yeah... yes... Madame," gasps Slave Tessa. "Please may I come?"

"You may. As this is your first time, I will be generous and allow you the pleasure you haven't really earned. But be warned, we shall be working on your orgasm control over the next few days."

Without realising it at the time, I've decided to spend some time with Slave Tessa over the next few days. While this induction tour is part of the favour I owe Nicole, my decision to go further is entirely my own choice. I'm unsure about my feelings towards Slave Tessa. I'm only on the island for another two days, while she is scheduled to be here for six weeks. She's set herself a daunting task. Enduring six weeks of slavery on this island will likely mean submitting to a dozen different mistresses, each eager to stamp her authority over a new slave.

Having been given permission to come, Slave Tessa surrenders herself completely to her primal urges. It's a delight to watch her reach her peak and then tip over the edge. Some women are screamers when they come, while others feel obliged to shout obscenities. Slave Tessa simply roles her eyes and moans gently as her orgasm washes over her. I remove my hand from her pants and present my wet fingers for her to suck clean. She does so enthusiastically without being told.

Punishment delivered, I unfasten Slave Tessa's bonds and she gently rubs her abused tits. She makes no effort to replace her top, seemingly content to remain naked above her waist. I conclude our tour of the dungeon by showing Slave Tessa the inside of one of the cells.

"Now we shall visit the recreation area in building E5," I say as we depart the slave quarters. "Later today you'll be allowed to socialise in there with the other slaves. However, I'll show you the facilities now so that you can decide which sort of room you prefer."

I explain the access restrictions to building E5, which are almost as complex as access to the dungeon. I doubt Slave Tessa will remember it all at first, but the colour coded locks are an easy guide to what is, and isn't, permitted.

"Most rooms require a mistress to provide access. Ladies can access a few rooms. Needless to say, a slave can only enter a room when a mistress or lady unlocks the door for her. However, once inside, you can remain for as long as you want. But don't miss lock-up at nine o'clock or you will end sleeping outside or in the stables."

I take Slave Tessa on a quick circuit of the various rooms. Some are simple bedrooms for romantic liaisons, while others are decorated as themed playrooms for groups. It's the one building on the island where a slave is allowed to spend her few hours of free time away from a mistress's rule.

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Chapter 3: Tessa. Saturday Week 1

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When I chose to join the Slave caste, I accepted that those of the other castes would issue orders that I must obey, and they would punish me for any mistakes. However, I had assumed that such interactions would be impersonal, much like that between a prison guard and her prisoner. I hadn't mentally prepared myself for a more intimate relationships. My wanton reaction to Madame Selena's treatment of me should be inexcusable, but nobody here is judging me. Far from it, my shameful arousal was encouraged rather than deplored.

Admittedly being on a women-only island has eased my usual reticence towards anything sexual. My parents aren't the only ones in my life who abhor the same-sex relationships I crave. The pressure I normally feel to keep my sexual preferences well hidden is notably absent here. Is that why I surrendered myself so willingly to Madame Selena in the dungeon?

Perhaps I'm making excuses when there is no reason to do so. Madame Selena had no hesitation in doing what she did, and she made no judgement about my reaction to her attentions. For the first time in ages I was able to let my self-control relax and enjoy the moment. Being required to wear clothing that leaves my tits bare does funny things to my psyche. Perhaps that's why the club requires those of the Slave caste to dress in this way. As for being flogged on my tits, then that was a pleasant reminder of the games my cousin Jess and I used to play when our parents weren't watching. Even though I was eighteen at the time, I didn't associate our games as anything more than harmless fun, with nothing overtly sexual... or so I thought at the time. Looking back, I wonder whether 'Jess and Tess' could have developed into something more intimate. Perhaps it isn't too late to explore that possibility. My train of thought is interrupted by a new arrival.

"Hi Tessa. I didn't recognise you at first," says Nadia... Lady Nadia as I must now call her.

"Lady Nadia," I reply. "Hi. Have you settled in okay?"

"Yes. My room is comfortable and the amenities are great. Are you okay with being made to dress like that?"

"Yes, I am, Lady Nadia," I reply.

"You can drop the 'Lady' bit," laughs Nadia. "Nobody could mistake me for a lady back at home."

"Umm... I'm not sure that I'm allowed to drop your title, Lady Nadia," I reply, casting a look in Madame Selena's direction. "I've already been punished once for making that mistake."

"Seriously?!? We've only been here for a few hours. That seems a bit harsh," says Lady Nadia, ignoring Madame Selena's presence. "Why don't you ask if you can transfer to a different caste?"

How can I explain to Nadia that I have no desire to change castes... even if that is possible. I don't intend to be deliberately disobedient, but punishments like the one Madame Selena just delivered are well within my ability to tolerate.

"As Slave Tessa says, she mustn't address you by your name alone... unless, of course, you are alone together and you instruct her to do so," says Madame Selena to Nadia.

"I'm happy with my choice, Lady Nadia," I add. "Perhaps we can meet later when I'm allowed some free time?"

"Yes... yes... I'd like that," replies Nadia. "I'm in room twelve of the Ladies' accommodation block. I'll be there from four o'clock onwards. Come and visit me when you are free."

The rest of my induction tour covers the various buildings currently in use. I'm shown the location of the toilets and where I can obtain food and drink. The food is the same for all castes, although slaves are required to prepare the food for both themselves and the mistresses. Those of the Ladies caste prepare their own food.

"The next special event will be in three weeks time, so the main building... or tower, as it's generally called... is closed while preparations are made for the event," says Madame Selena. "If you wish to participate in the special event, then you will need to talk to Madame Nicole tomorrow. I'm not sure if your 'prize' includes an invitation to participate in a special event. Bookings open the day after tomorrow and it's on a first come first served basis."

"What sort of special event is it, Madame?" I ask.

"It's being called 'Slave revolt'," says Madame Selena. "I'm not sure of the details, but I believe it's a week long series of challenges between Mistresses and Slaves to take control of the tower."

"What are the ladies expected to do during the 'revolt', Madame?" I ask.

"Those of the Ladies caste aren't allowed to participate in special events. In fact, they can't participate in a lot of things. I can't imagine a more insipid and unadventurous caste. Your friend will get bored to tears before long."

"I only met Nadia on the journey here, Madame," I reply. "She's not exactly a friend."

"Tsk! Tsk! That's 'Lady' Nadia to you, Slave Tessa," replies Madame Selena. "That's another black mark to be redeemed in the morning. You must always show respect for your betters, particularly one who wants to get to know you better. Now, as this is your first day here, and it's just past four o'clock, I'll allow you to join Lady Nadia. Just remember to be outside building E4 at nine o'clock tonight for lock-up."

"Thank you, Madame Selena," I reply. "What should I do in the morning?"

"Just follow the instructions of whichever mistress comes for you after breakfast. You and I will meet at some time during the day. Hopefully you won't have earned any more black marks in the meantime or those pretty tits of yours are going to be bright red."

Madame Selena's threat of further punishment creates a strange tingly feeling in my lower belly. If I didn't know better, I'd associate that feeling with becoming aroused. I take several deep breaths to bring my roiling emotions under control.

I find room twelve easily enough. There are plenty of signposts, and the room numbering follows a logical pattern. I knock on the door and Lady Nadia promptly answers. She and Lady Raewyn are sat around a low table drinking coffee.

"Tessa! Thank goodness you're alright," says Nadia.

"Why wouldn't I be alright, Lady Nadia," I reply.

"What Nadia means is that she and I misinterpreted the nature of the caste system here," says Lady Raewyn. "When we read the brochure, we both thought it was all role playing. I'm afraid the reality of it all has been a culture shock for us both."

"Yeah... I'm not sure I can handle two weeks of seeing women strutting around in leather gear forcing others to obey them," says Nadia. "And please will you drop the 'Lady' title while you are in here?"

"Sure, Nadia," I reply. "Please remember that those like me have made a free choice to be a member of the Slave caste. And you are right to some extent. The life here has an element of role playing. We each take on a role that reflects our own desires."

"Do you mean that you like being made to walk around with your breasts exposed, and take orders from some hard-nose bitches?" asks Raewyn.

"Yes. So far, at least," I reply. "I came here to experience new things and test my sexual boundaries. It's very difficult for me to do that in my normal life. It's a rare opportunity for me to explore the unknown."

To be honest, it was the six week duration of the stay that was the initial reason I chose the Slave caste. However, when I convinced myself that being a slave was something I could handle, I realised the added benefits of taking this opportunity.

"Well, I think you are either very brave, or completely crazy," laughs Nadia. "What do you think, Raewyn?"

"So, if I had chosen the Mistress caste, I could make you perform like a pet dog, and you would be okay with that, Slave Tessa?" asks Raewyn.

I don't fail to notice that Raewyn has referred to me as 'Slave' Tessa, so I presume she doesn't support Nadia's request for me to drop their caste titles.

"Yes, Lady Raewyn," I reply. "If you were Madame Raewyn, I would be obliged to obey your orders. As long as those orders don't breach La Chatte Heureuse rules, I would comply with your instructions."

Nadia is clearly uncomfortable at the direction our conversation is heading. While Nadia dislikes the idea of living with topless slaves, Lady Raewyn is more intrigued by the opportunities for some fun.

"Raewyn! What are you getting at?" asks Nadia in alarm. "Surely you don't want to participate in what goes on here?"

"Hmm. Well I don't see why we shouldn't take advantage of the situation," replies Raewyn. "There's only so many times we can walk around the island without getting bored. The gardens are pleasant enough, if you are into sunbathing on the lawn. Personally, I prefer a bit more action."

"Mistress Selena told me that members of the Lady caste are often used to perform the hourly checks on slaves confined to the dungeon," I offer.

"Dungeon!"exclaims Nadia. "I didn't know anything about a dungeon. It sounds medieval."

"Yes, apparently there are two," I continue, wondering if Nadia has read any of the documents La Chatte Heureuse sent to each of us before we signed up for our chosen caste. "I've seen the one in the basement of the slave quarters in E4, and I believe there is a larger one inside the large building they call 'the tower'."

"Relax, Nadia," says Lady Raewyn. "Slave Tessa here is handling this situation far better than you. And don't pretend seeing plenty of bare tits doesn't excite you. You wouldn't have entered the magazine competition were you not sexually attracted to women. The Sapphic Quarterly has a very specific readership profile."

I realise that what Lady Raewyn has just said is right. The three of us are strangers, having only met for the first time on the journey here. Consequently, we know very little about each other. The competition we each won is the common link between us. However, the competition was in a magazine that targets women who at least tolerate, if not participate, in lesbian relationships. It's highly unlikely that any puritanical heterosexual would even know about the competition, let alone enter it.

Which makes me wonder about Nadia's reaction. Is she truly shocked, or are her protests a smokescreen masking her true feelings. My own feelings towards Nadia and Raewyn are still in the formative stage. Because of my sexual leanings, I'm generally cautious when making new friends. I'm certainly not the sort to jump into bed with someone on a whim. However, my session with Madame Selena today makes me wonder whether I have been too cautious in the past. From what I've seen of La Chatte Hereuse so far suggests that I can lower some of the social barriers I normally build around myself.

"Yes, okay," replies Nadia, conceding the accuracy of Raewyn's observation. "But my boyfriend will kill me if he ever finds out what goes on here. He thinks I'm at some fancy spa resort soaking up the sun."

I suppose you could describe La Chatte Hereuse as a fancy spa resort for those of the Ladies caste. Particularly those who don't want to participate in any of the optional duties supervising slaves held in the dungeon. Lounging around doing nothing might be a holiday that suits some women, but I can't imagine anything more boring. I agree with the comments Madame Selena made earlier today. Far better to join either the Mistress or Slave castes, and gain a memorable experience.

"If you are that bothered about what your boyfriend thinks, then why did you enter the competition in the first place?" asks Raewyn.

"We have an on-again off-again relationship," sighs Nadia. "When I entered the competition we were definitely in an off-again situation."

"That doesn't sound like a serious relationship," says Raewyn moving next to Nadia on the couch. "If I were you, I'd enjoy your time here. If your boyfriend objects, then tough luck on him. We've the whole evening to ourselves, so I suggest the three of us make the most of it."

Although members of the Ladies caste can't require a slave to do anything she doesn't consent to doing, there's nothing stopping me from agreeing to submit to Nadia and Raewyn within certain boundaries and for an agreed period of time. Raewyn surprises me when she suggests that we treat Nadia as the honorary mistress between us. I'm okay with that as I sense Nadia is likely to respect whatever rules we agree. I'm less sure whether Raewyn would do the same. We agree some simple rules, including my own personal boundaries... no breath-play, and no anal sex.

Raewyn looks disappointed at not being allowed to fuck my arse. I've never had anything penetrate my rear hole, and I don't want my stay here ruined by having to cope with a torn sphincter. Raewyn is mollified when I clarify that the anal sex prohibition only applies to my arse. If she wants me to fuck her arse, then I'll do it, providing she understands that I've never done anything like that before. In truth, there are a lot of things we might be doing this evening that will be first time experiences for me.

Despite Nadia's initial reluctance, and the fake protests about indecency, she soon steps into the persona of Madame Nadia. I find myself accepting my role as Madame Nadia's slave with remarkable ease. To some extent, my submission is no different to when I was under Mistress Selena's control, even though there are major differences is the confidence and experience of the two mistresses. Although I've never considered myself to be submissive, I again find that I can easily put myself in the right frame of mind to play a submissive role.

Our only handicap is the absence of any sex toys. That's quickly remedied when Lady Raewyn offers to go to the recreation building and collect a few items.

"Shouldn't we send Slave Tessa?" says Madame Nadia to Lady Raewyn.

"No. This is a task for you or me," replies Raewyn. "Slave Tessa doesn't have access to the building without one of us being present. And, more importantly, no slave should be allowed to choose the instruments of her torment. Why don't you have Slave Tessa make us something to eat and drink while I raid the sex toy supplies in the recreation building."

The food and drink making facilities provided inside Nadia's apartment are fairly basic. However, down the corridor is a communal kitchen with enough equipment and supplies to make routine meals for those staying in the building. Those of the Ladies caste are expected to do their own cooking and cleaning. I'm not sure who attends to resupplying the refrigerators and cupboards with food and drink, nor who checks that the communal kitchen doesn't degenerate into an untidy mess. Clearly someone oversees the state of the kitchen, so I presume it's a member of staff. Madame Nadia and I explore the kitchen and identify what we need.

"I presume you know how to cook this?" asks Nadia.

"Yes, Madame Nadia," I reply. "The instructions on the packs are quite clear."

"Yes... Hmm... Well, prepare three servings and bring it to my room when it's ready. Bring some wine if you can find some."

"Alcohol isn't allowed on the island, Madame," I reply. "I'll see if I can find a suitable alternative."

During our entire conversation, Madame Nadia's eyes have been fixed on my tits. I don't feel it my place to invite her to touch them but I wish that she would. Ever since my session with Mistress Selena, I've been in a heightened state of sexual heat. I turn slightly to give Nadia a closer look, but she still refuses to touch my tits.

"Yes, do that," replies Nadia trying to sound authoritative.

Madame Nadia returns to her room, leaving me to get on with making a meal for the three of us. I locate plates and cutlery along with some bottles of grape juice in one of the refrigerators. There's a trolley parked in a corner, so I presume I'm allowed to borrow that to transport the meal. Fifteen minutes later I return to Nadia's room wheeling our meal. Lady Raewyn has returned in the meantime with what appears to be a bag of assorted sex toys. She and Nadia are busy examining the treasure Raewyn has acquired.

"Are you sure the club doesn't mind us removing these from the recreation building?" asks Nadia of Raewyn.

"It's perfectly okay," laughs Lady Raewyn. "Lady Helen on the staff even helped me put this collection together. She also showed me where to dispose of the toys when we've finished with them so that the reusable items can be cleaned, sanitized and resealed."

The toys are put aside while we eat the meal I've prepared. When we've finished, I take the dirty crockery to the kitchen and return the trolley to where I found it.

"You're supposed to return the trolley immediately so that others can use it," snaps a lady making herself a meal in the kitchen. "What's a slave doing in this building? How did you get access?"

"I'm sorry, Lady... um... Jane," I say when I read the name on her necklace. "Ladies Nadia and Raewyn invited me to join them. We arrived on the island together this morning."

"Newbies!" scoffs Lady Jane as though first-timers are as welcome as toothache. "Well, put the dirty crockery in the dishwasher over there. You can remind Lady Raewyn that she's on kitchen clean-up duty tonight. The list of her duties are on the wall over there, next to the roster. I presume Lady Nadia's turn is scheduled for later in the week."

I do as I'm bid and return to Nadia's room.

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Chapter 4: Tessa. Saturday Week 1

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Lady Raewyn doesn't seem surprised at the message I relay from Lady Jane. Clearly she had already been told about her turn on duty, and Lady Jane was just reminding her. Whether that was out of kindness towards a newcomer, or an act of one-upmanship is difficult to determine.

By now it is six o'clock. The sounds of other ladies moving up and down the corridor indicates many must be returning from whatever they have been doing during the day in order to freshen up for the evening's activities. I've no idea what activities those may be. The brochure simply said that those of the Ladies caste were left to organise something between themselves. There's a large lounge and an adjacent dance floor shared between ladies and mistresses, or ladies can use some of the rooms in the recreation building if they prefer something sexual.

My own situation with Madame Nadia and Lady Raewyn is finally turning into something more intimate. Raewyn breaks the ice by coming up behind me and placing her hands on my exposed tits. Nadia simply watches agog as Raewyn plays with my nipples.

"Madame Nadia suggested that we put these on you," says Raewyn, reaching into the bag of sex toys.

Lady Raewyn produces a pair of nipple clamps, each fitted with a small bell to the end. I don't protest as Raewyn proceeds to fix them to my nipples. She then jiggles my tits so that the bells make a tinkling sound. Madame Nadia is frozen with her eyes firmly locked on my nipples. I strongly suspect that Nadia had nothing to do with suggesting that I wear nipple clamps, but the sight of them clearly arouses her. She's like a floodgate ready to burst.

Lady Raewyn proceeds to remove my top, such as it is. Her hands then roam over my torso in a way designed to arouse me and tease Madame Nadia. I sense what game Raewyn is playing. She's trying to draw Nadia over her self-imposed barrier, and encourage her to actively engage in some intimate play. I sympathise with Nadia's restraint. Away from this island, I would also be hesitant about participating in anything sexual with strangers. However, I've overcome that mental barrier, and I'm up for some rough play.

Lady Raewyn's hand finds its way inside my pants. For the moment she leaves my skirt and panties in place. However that doesn't stop her from teasing my nether lips. Finally Madame Nadia has had enough of sitting idly to one side, and she walks over to me. She cups my tits with her hands, and gently kisses me on the lips. Her kiss quickly develops into something much more passionate. I'm suddenly torn between Raewyn's devilish attentions between my legs, and Nadia's insistent assault on my mouth and upper body. I surrender myself entirely to the assault on my body as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.

Over the next ten minutes, more clothes get shed. I'm completely naked by the time Lady Raewyn fixes a strap on cock to her hips. Although her bag of toys includes some lube, she has me suck the rubber cock until it is wet enough to slide easily into my cunt.

"Lie down on your back, Slave Tessa," says Lady Raewyn. "Lift your legs high and spread them wide."

No prizes for guessing what Lady Raewyn intends to do next. But Madame Nadia intervenes.

"I'm the mistress here," says Madame Nadia with a surprising tone of authority. "I get to fuck Slave Tessa first."

For someone who initially didn't seem keen to have sex, Madame Nadia has transformed in a matter of minutes. Lady Raewyn concedes priority and hands Nadia a double-ended asymmetric rubber cock. Nadia seems to baulk at the prospect of having one end of the cock inside her, but she proceeds to lube both ends before pushing the smaller end inside her. Raewyn helps her secure the straps to the cock to keep it in place.

From my horizontal position I can only see glimpses of what's going on. Only when Madame Nadia appears between my legs do I know when she is ready. She's tentative at first, playing with the end of the cock against my nether lips. The occasional brush against my clit sets me moaning with desire for more.

Lady Raewyn isn't idle while Madame Nadia teases my cunt. She's positioned herself behind Nadia, with the clear intention of burying her cock inside Nadia's arse. The lack of objection from Nadia suggests that this isn't the first time she's had anal sex. Without warning, Nadia rams the cock deep into my cunt. Seconds later, Raewyn does the same into Nadia's arse.

The limited space inside Nadia's room means we can't get too adventurous with our games. It might have been a better idea to use one of the rooms in the recreation building. Although I've only seen a couple of the rooms in building E5, they are clearly designed for the sort of games the three of us are playing. Nevertheless we try several different positions. After a while it becomes apparent that Nadia and Raewyn are eager to explore each other's body in intimate detail. While I don't get ignored, my part in these games slowly becomes secondary to the attentions Nadia and Raewyn are heaping on each other.

I'm not sure if my reluctance to intervene in Madame Nadia's and Lady Raewyn's romp is because I am recognising my role as a slave, or because of some natural submissive trait. As a slave, I accept that my body can be used, or not used, as my betters dictate. As much as I try to persuade myself that my slave status is why I'm taking a back seat to these games, I fail to convince myself entirely.

I remember that I must report to the outside of my own dormitory for 'lock up' by nine o'clock. Fortunately Nadia and Raewyn aren't too carried away with their games to overlook the need to let me leave. I locate my clothes and after a farewell kiss, I leave the two of them to continue their passionate adventures.

There are eight slaves waiting by the gate to building E4 when I arrive. We are joined a few moments later by Madame Nicole with another fifteen slaves in tow. I presume they are the slaves who have been enjoying themselves in the recreation building. Madame Nicole unlocks the gate and we all file in to the building.

"You have fifteen minutes to prepare for bed," says Madame Nicole.

Since nobody has explained the bedtime routine to me, I follow the example of some of the others. Several make a beeline for the kitchen to grab something to eat, while others head to the communal bathroom. I follow the second group to the showers. I normally shower in the morning, but I'm unsure whether I'll get the opportunity here. Taking a communal shower is reminiscent of my time at school after sports. Like at school, the atmosphere is playful. However, none of us linger in the shower any longer than necessary. The toilet area is open plan with only a waist high screen between toilets offering any sense of privacy. I suppose this is done to reinforce our status as slaves, and I acknowledge that it takes a certain frame of mind to accept these arrangements.

As the fifteen minute limit nears its end, the slaves start filing into their allocated dormitory and place their clothes inside a small cupboard beside our respective bed. A small loin cloth is the only nightwear we are given. I copy the others and change before lying down on my bed.

Madame Nicole comes through the dormitory and locks an ankle cuff on each slave, chaining her to the foot of her bed. There's enough play in the linking chain to get out of bed and use the chamber pot under each bed, but not to climb into another bed. I'm suddenly glad that my bed is near the window, as I can imagine the room getting odorous if the chamber pots are used at night. The barred window won't open, but there are circular ventilation holes in the glass that can be set in an open or closed position.

"The emergency key to your ankle cuff is attached to the inside of your cupboard door, Slave Tessa," says Madame Nicole, repeating the same information she gave to one of the other slaves chained to her bed. "Remember that you'll be punished if you use the key without good reason."

Once each slave is secured to her bed, Madame Nicole does a final inspection of each slave. Satisfied that none of us are panicking or are otherwise unfit to spend the night locked in a slave dormitory, Madame Nicole switches out the main lights. We aren't plunged into total darkness, as a line of low intensity night-lights are positioned at intervals along the ceiling, above the narrow gap between the foot-boards of opposing beds.

Of the twelve beds in this dormitory, nine are occupied. I'm unsure whether there is a rule about not talking after lights-out, or whether the relative silence is by mutual agreement. Either way, it takes me a while to blot out the clinking of ankle chains and the rustling of sheets. Finally I fall asleep.

I wake a few times during the night. The weight and restriction of the cuff on my left ankle wakes me a couple of times, as does the sound (and smell) of someone using their chamber pot. However, all things considered, I sleep reasonably well.

I've no idea what time it is when the main lights are turned on as a signal to wake up. The hint of daylight through the window suggests that it is after dawn. We can't go anywhere until someone unlocks our ankle chains, so I just lie on my back pondering what adventures might await me today.

"If you want a shower before breakfast then you'll need to be quick once we're unlocked," says the slave in the bed next to mine. "Those last in the queue for breakfast usually end up with the leftovers."

I peer at her name tag... Slave Xara. She's several years older than me, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She sports a tattoo on her upper right arm with the words "Slave" in bold letters. Clearly her stay here isn't a temporary escape from normal life.

"Thanks, Xara," I reply. "I'm Tessa. How long have you been a member of La Chatte Heureuse?"

"Six years," replies Xara. "Although I've only been staying here for a few weeks at a time for the last couple of years. My regular mistress sometimes travels for business, so she sends me here while she's away."

"Do you like it here?" I ask.

"Only a first-timer would ask a question like that," chortles Xara. "How much you enjoy of your stay here depends on how far you are prepared to push yourself. Sometimes it can depend on which mistresses are in residence. Bitches like Madame Faye and Madame Rosamund can make a slave's life hell. Then there are those like Madame Selena who will test your endurance to the limit. The overseers on the staff, like Madame Rebecca and Madame Stephanie, are okay. They are usually strict but fair."

"What about Madame Nicole?" I ask, preparing myself to approach her about joining the special event in three weeks time.

"She's okay as long as you don't end up sampling her skills at rope bondage. She can tie you up so tight that you can't move a muscle."

Our conversation is interrupted when Madame Rebecca enters our dormitory and proceeds to unlock our ankles. Once freed, the slave makes a dash for the bathroom. I can see that given the location of my bed, I'm going to be last in line for the bathroom. Indeed, I realise that by the time I've used the toilet and shower, I'm going to be well towards the back of the queue for breakfast. Taking Xara's advice, I skip on taking a shower and opt for an earlier arrival in the room where the breakfast buffet is laid out. Even so, there must be a dozen there before me. I've made a fortuitous choice as the more popular cereals and breads are already running low by the time I reach the head of the line.

"One of the few advantages of being on breakfast duty is that you get first pick of the food," says Xara as she joins me at a table.

"How do they pick who is on breakfast duty?" I ask.

"There's a roster posted on the notice board by the main door," replies Xara. "It's next to the one with our bed allocations. How long are you staying at La Chatte Heureuse?"

"Six weeks," I reply.

My answer is greeted with coughs and splutters from those around me. Obviously six weeks is an unusually long length of stay.

"Shit! Are you a masochist or what?" laughs Xara. "I couldn't stand more than a fortnight at a time."

"And yet you come here regularly," responds Slave Ginny, sat opposite me.

"I'm fine with this lifestyle in small doses," replies Xara. "But a six week stay is almost certainly going to clash with the arrival of one of the super-bitch mistresses. There's a special event scheduled in three weeks time. Odds on that will attract some of them here."

"How many of these super-bitches are there?" I ask.

"That depends on your definition of a super-bitch," replies Ginny. "If you mean a mistress who regularly bends the rules and punishes a slave harder than appropriate, then I suppose there are about four of them. If you use a broader definition to include those who simply make a slave's life hard, then there's probably a dozen or so."

"Why does La Chatte Heureuse allow that?" I ask. "Surely that sort of treatment would result in a loss of members from the Slave caste."

"Money talks," replies Xara. "La Chatte Heureuse gets most of its money from members of the Mistress caste. A few slaves resigning their membership is a price the club is willing to pay. In any case, surprisingly few members of the Slave caste actually resign. We are all committed to this lifestyle. For all its faults, La Chatte Hereuse is a key component in our lives that we don't want to give up."

I finish my breakfast with the others and return to the dormitory to prepare for the day ahead. I check the breakfast roster by the door. It only covers duties until weekend, so there are only a few names on the list. I quickly realise that there are three separate sets of duties included on the roster. In addition to preparing and clearing away the breakfast things in the E4 dining area, there are also similar duties in the staff dining area during breakfast and evening meal. My name only appears once, against the breakfast duty in E4 the day after tomorrow.

A bell sounds through several loudspeakers dotted around building E4. It's promptly followed by a broadcast message.

"Fifteen minute warning," repeats the voice three times.

The message triggers a flurry of activity among the slaves.

"What do we do now?" I ask Xara.

"Report to the Slave Holding Area in the administration building before the fifteen minutes are up," replies Xara, busy making her bed and tidying her cupboard.

I copy her actions and tidy my own bed and cupboard. If I want to speak to Madame Nicole about the special event, then I probably need to do that before reporting to the Slave Holding Area. I leave the building a couple of minutes later after checking I have what I need. I can't re-enter the building once I leave unless a mistress or lady unlocks the gate for me.

I make it to the reception area in the administration building with about five minutes to spare. I'm fortunate that the reception area is quiet at the moment. I can imagine it will soon get busy with those guests of every caste checking out today.

"Is there a problem, Slave Tessa?" asks Madame Nicole when she sees me approach the reception counter.

"No problem, Madame Nicole," I reply. "I merely wanted to inquire whether I can apply to join the special event in three weeks time?"

"I'll need to check on the terms of your prize award to see if it includes participation in a special event. Applications don't open until tomorrow in any case. Call back here tomorrow morning and I'll find out in the meantime if you are eligible to apply."

"Thank you, Madame," I reply, making a dash for the Slave Holding Area down the corridor.

I've no idea how close I am to running out of time. There are relatively few clocks around the place and telling the time is often a matter of guesswork. I make it through the yellow door without incident to be confronted with a packed room of slaves. Several other slaves arrive after me, so I'm relieved that I'm not the last to arrive.

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Chapter 5: Nicole. Sunday Week 1 of Tessa's stay

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My brief conversation with Slave Tessa prompts me to review the files of the four young women who won the competition. When I first heard of their pending arrival, I asked Monique why an exclusive club like La Chatte Heureuse would involve itself with a competition that was ruthlessly promoted with all the razzmatazz of a circus. Monique had no involvement with the promotion, which was apparently handled by the shadowy organisation that owns La Chatte Heureuse. I sometimes worry that we're involved with some criminal organisation, but Monique assures me that everything is perfectly legitimate, and that the secrecy about ownership is to preserve the reputation of the fine upstanding pillars of the community involved.

I check on the terms of Slave Tessa's prize and I'm soon satisfied that she can apply to join the special event at no extra cost. Although I've previously reviewed the profiles of the four prize winners, I now take the time to study their profiles in more detail. Unlike the regular members of La Chatte Heureuse, the four women haven't been required to complete the usual sophisticated personality analysis to check they are suitable for the caste they have chosen. Instead a much less thorough questionnaire and interview was conducted. While the Lady caste is suitable for nearly every visitor to the island, those wanting to stay here in the Mistress and Slave castes are normally subject to much stricter criteria. That's particularly so if the planned stay is longer than a couple of weeks. While Slave Tessa passed the criteria set in the questionnaire and interview, I still have reservations that she's suitable for a six week stay in the Slave caste.

"Sorry for interrupting, Madame Nicole," says Slave Brooke who has been covering the reception desk while I've been studying these files. "Madame Selena would like to talk with you for a few moments."

"Sure," I reply. "Show her through to the small office. I'll be with her in a few moments."

I recall that Selena was the mistress I assigned to show Slave Tessa around yesterday. Perhaps Selena has gained some insight into Tessa's capabilities. Although Selena and I are regarded as equals within the Mistress caste, our backgrounds and personalities are completely different. What arouses Selena is often a big turn-off for me, so we agree to differ on several subjects relating to the treatment of slaves. Our mutual dislike for Madame Faye's obnoxious behaviour towards slaves is one of the few issues we wholeheartedly agree on. That, and agreeing that Faye deserved the punch Selena delivered. I would have punched Faye myself were it not likely to have resulted in me being fired. Going back to living in my car is the last thing I want to face.

"Good morning, Selena," I say as I walk into the small office. "How can I help you?"

"Hi, Nicole," replies Selena. "I want to extend my stay here by a couple of days for the purpose of putting Slave Tessa through a Flower Assessment."

La Chatte Heureuse has four different personality tests that are used to assess a slave's liking and tolerance for different kinds of treatment. Collectively the tests are called a Flower Assessment, simply because each test is named after a flower; Fern, Cornflower, Rose and Buttercup. If a slave successfully completes one of the assessments, her club records record the achievement, and a green, blue, red or yellow metal flower is attached to her necklace. That in turn makes her easier to match to mistresses looking for certain traits in a slave. Generally its a win-win situation. Both mistress and slave are matched with a partner who likes the same things.

"Extending your stay won't be a problem, but we'll need Slave Tessa's agreement to put her through an Flower Assessment. Tessa isn't a club member, so there's limited benefit to her in achieving the award. Which test are you proposing she takes?"

"A Buttercup test," replies Selena. "Yeah, I know my normal preference is for a Cornflower type, but I think Slave Tessa is a natural submissive, and my intuition says that she leans heavily towards the Buttercup type. She's here for six weeks, which she's going to find is a test in itself. I think she deserves a chance of matching up with mistresses who will give her the treatment she needs."

I can't fault Selena's logic. For a mistress who has been guilty of overstepping boundaries before, Selena sometimes shows a compassionate side to her nature.

"If Slave Tessa agrees to the Flower Assessment, then the club has no objection," I reply. "I'll see if one of the Lady caste will volunteer to act as observer, otherwise I'll ask one of the administration staff to observe. The Buttercup assessment requires some rope bondage. You are normally into cuffs and chains. Can you manage to conduct the assessment on your own, or are you going to need help?"

"Umm... I was going to ask you if you would attend to the rope bondage part of the assessment. I can manage the rest on my own."

"OK. I can do that. But first we need Slave Tessa's agreement. Let me check where she is at the moment."

"She's in the work party servicing the rooms in the recreation building," replies Selena, clearly paying close attention to Slave Tessa's movements.

Normally I would wait until a work party has finished a task before commandeering one of the slaves. However, I'm mindful that Selena will want a yes or no answer soon if she is going to reschedule her activities for the next few days. Consequently I go with Selena to building E5 and locate Slave Tessa. She's busy changing bed linen and she doesn't initially see us arrive. When she does, she is understandably nervous at our sudden appearance. However, to her credit, she reacts towards us like any well trained slave should, and drops to her knees with her head bowed.

"Madame Selena has a proposal to make to you, and I'm here to explain what that means if you agree," I say to Slave Tessa.

The three of us move to another room where we won't be overheard. I firstly explain about the Flower Assessment tests and why they can be useful to both slaves and mistresses. I then let Selena make her proposal and her reason for doing so. Slave Tessa goes thoughtful for a few moments.

"How do you know that the Buttercup test is the right one, Madame?" asks Slave Tessa.

"From my observation of you yesterday and what you've told me about yourself," replies Selena. "We won't know for sure until you complete the assessment, but my years of experience tell me that it's the right one for you."

"OK, I'll take the test, Madame. When and where am I to do it?" asks Slave Tessa.

"Report to the reception desk tomorrow morning instead of going to the Slave Holding Area," I reply. "You can register for the special event at the same time if you still want to do so. I've checked your prize award and it allows you to participate in a special event."

"Yes, OK. Thank you, Madame Nicole. Madame Selena."

"Right. Now you had best get back to work before your overseer punishes you for slacking," says Selena, knowing full well that nobody will inspect her work until the work party has completed the task, and slaves never rat on each other to a mistress.

Slave Tessa scurries back to her duties while Selena and I go back to the administration building.

"I presume you wish to confirm your extended stay," I say to Selena. "How many extra days do you wish to stay."

"I'll check out on Friday, if that's okay," says Selena.

I quickly check the transport schedule for Friday and confirm there are spare outbound seats on the boat and bus. I make the necessary arrangements to extend Selena's stay. As she has already used up her annual allowance of 'free days' on the island, the extension is going to cost Selena a tidy sum. It strikes me as unusually generous of her to go to that expense for the sake of a complete stranger. I suspect she has a much deeper interest in Slave Tessa than she is admitting.

With everything organised, Selena goes about her business while I resume my review of the four competition winners' files. I'm more comfortable about Slave Tessa's choice now that Selena has given her initial appraisal. I don't worry too much about Nadia and Raewyn as the rules governing the Ladies caste are straightforward and few people have difficulty with abiding by them. Madame Kylie is a different matter, however. She certainly has the right social background for the Mistress caste, but she's a novice with the dom-sub lifestyle. Most of the mistresses will eat her for breakfast if she doesn't meet their exacting standards regarding the 'proper' control of slaves. Perhaps I should ask Rebecca to have a quiet word with Kylie and take her under her wing.

The next morning Slave Tessa reports to the reception desk as instructed. I have Slave Brooke register Tessa for the special event later this month, which is already receiving a steady flow of applications. While some special events are fully booked in a matter of hours, this one has an unusual theme, so none of us are sure how many members will wish to participate.

I turn my focus to this morning's task of putting Slave Tessa through a Buttercup assessment test. The four different assessment tests gauge each slave's own preference for five activities they will invariably be subjected to during their stay here; sex, punishment, bondage, humiliation, and servitude. Experienced slaves know that all five activities will be part of their life here, but the balance between those activities are varied to suit the desires and tolerances of both mistress and slave. The developers of the tests estimate that over eighty percent of mistresses will be drawn to one or other of the four types identified by the tests.

It would be easier if a single test could identify all four types, but that's not the way the process works. In reality, three-quarters of the slaves fall somewhere in between the narrow criteria for the four types. That makes passing one of the tests a coveted prize. As there are many more members of the Slave caste than the elite group belonging to the Mistress caste, the imbalance between demand and supply is not as problematic as the statistics imply. To pass the assessment, the slave must achieve a mark within the defined upper and lower thresholds for each activity specified for the type. Since several activities can be done in conjunction with each other, the scoring of the test is quite complex and done by computer. It also explains why different tests are designed for each type.

If Selena is right in her assessment of Slave Tessa as a Buttercup type, then Tessa will have a relatively high preference for bondage and punishment, a neutral appreciation for sex and servitude, and a lower acceptance of humiliation. That makes Selena's interest in Tessa a surprise. Selena openly admits that she prefers the Cornflower type... plenty of bondage, humiliation and sex, with less focus on punishment and servitude.

I've asked Lady Helen on the staff to act as observer to ensure the test is conducted fairly, and to verify the score. As soon as Selena arrives, she, Helen and Tessa go into the room down the corridor that has been equipped to conduct Flower Assessment tests. I checked earlier that the computer that generates the test questions is functioning and set for a Buttercup test. Selena will call me when she needs my participation. If all goes to schedule, then the test should take just over an hour.

Half an hour later, I'm called into the room. I glance at the computer screen and see that it calls for Tessa to be confined in a crab tie. I set about performing the tie, starting with the harness around her tits. By the time her legs and wrists are bound together, Tessa is visibly aroused but not pushing for sexual release. Selena resumes the assessment, asking questions or performing actions dictated by the computer. I wait a few minutes in case I'm needed again, but when it seems unlikely, I leave them to conclude the assessment.

Half an hour later Selena, Helen and Slave Tessa stop by my desk to inform me that Tessa has passed the test. She is now officially classified as a Buttercup type. I reach into a nearby drawer and produce a small yellow metal flower that I fasten onto Tessa's necklace next to the letters of her name.

"Well done, Slave Tessa," I say. "Now, you had best report to the Slave Holding Area. I believe Mistress Stephanie is putting together a working party to continue preparing the tower for the special event. You might be interested in being a part of that group."

Tessa thanks Selena and Helen before doing as she's bid. Helen returns to her work, while Selena lingers for a few minutes.

"That was a very astute prediction you made with Slave Tessa," I say. "There are only fourteen Buttercup types currently on the club's membership register, and five of those haven't visited the island for over three years."

"Yeah, it was a lucky guess in some respects," admits Selena. "Tessa has a greater tolerance for humiliation than I thought. She only just scored under the upper threshold in that category. I've never understood why there are both upper and lower thresholds in these tests."

"Yes, I agree that it seems strange. Monique said it's done to ensure consistency in the profiles of those who pass the test. Slave Tessa's tolerance for humiliation is still very low compared to other members of the Slave caste. That's probably why there are so few Buttercup types around."

"That's not something I normally worry about," replies Selena. "My preference is for the Cornflower type, and there seem to be several of those available each time I visit the island."

"So what do you intend to do with your extended time here?" I ask.

"As soon as Slave Tessa has finished her current duties, I intend to take her to the dungeon in E4. There are a few things she needs to experience sooner rather than later if she is going to last six weeks here."

I refrain from further comment. Selena has a reputation for serving her own interests ahead of performing any altruistic acts. Her interest in Slave Tessa clearly goes much deeper than she is letting on. While all the staff keep a watch out for any abusive treatment of slaves, I resolve to keep a closer watch over Slave Tessa while Selena is here.

For the moment, my other duties must take precedence. I turn my attention to the steady stream of applications for the special event. I pleased to see that we are likely to reach our target of fifteen mistresses and forty slaves by the end of this week. I'm looking forward to being one of the referees during the event. Brooke is unhappy that she will need to cover the reception desk in my absence, rather than be allowed leave to attend the event herself.

By mid-afternoon I've cleared most of my work. The three new arrivals today have been registered and provided with accommodation. They've all been here before, so they don't need an induction tour. I decide to check that Slave Tessa is okay. The security system detects the tracker in Tessa's necklace and locates her in the E4 dungeon. Given Selena's earlier remarks, that doesn't come as a surprise to me. I take a walk over to building E4 and go down into the dungeon.

There's no sign of activity, although one of the cells is in use. I peer through the small barred window in the wooden door and see Tessa sitting on the bed. She's naked with leather cuffs connecting her wrists and ankles, making it difficult for her to move about. This has all the signs of Selena's handiwork.

"I'm just checking on you, Slave Tessa," I say through the bars, not wishing to appear overly concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mistress Nicole," says Tessa, obviously recognising my voice since very little of me is visible from her side of the door.

"And what are you being punished for doing?" I ask.

"It's not a punishment, Madame," replies Tessa. "Madame Selena requires that I see how long I can tolerate being locked in a dungeon cell."

Being locked in a cell is one thing, but confining Tessa's wrists and ankles is an unnecessary addition to the normal practise. However, the onus is on Tessa to use the safe-word if she wants to be released. I trust Selena enough to know she will ensure someone conducts an hourly check on Tessa, even if she's still in here overnight. For all I know, Selena may get a thrill from doing the checks herself. There's only so much I can do to shield willing slaves from the treatment they endure.

I leave Tessa alone with her thoughts and return to the administration building.