La Chatte Heureuse Pt. 04 Ch. 06-09

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Chapter 6: Tessa. Saturday Week 3

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When I chose to come to La Chatte Heureuse for six weeks as a member of the Slave caste, I truly had no idea what impact that decision would have on me. Two weeks into my stay and I'm now fully aware of what to expect while I'm here. I've endured several forms of bondage, had my tits and arse flogged and caned a few times, and generally made to submit to whims of five different mistresses, two of whom had me confined in a dungeon cell overnight. My experiences have been an eye-opener for me. Not simply because of the treatment I've endured, but my own reaction to what should be abhorrent to me. Far from being frightened and disgusted, I find that I not only tolerate what is being done to me, but that I actually enjoy it.

The yellow flower badge on my necklace certainly plays its part. The badge signifies that I'm classified as a 'Buttercup,' one of four labels given to some slaves who have specific likes and dislikes in the way they are treated. Each mistress has her own ideas on how to treat a slave, and they tend to select slaves who have compatible preferences. I'm told that doing so improves the experience for both mistress and slave, although I'm far too new to this lifestyle to know otherwise.

Now, at the start of my third week, I'm mentally preparing myself for the largest single event of my stay. Raewyn and Nadia left on this morning's boat, having completed their two week stay in the Ladies caste. I think they enjoyed their time here, but I can't help feeling that I made the better choice.

The special event in the tower means moving from building E4 to one of the slave dormitories in the tower basement. Apparently there will be forty of us housed in two adjacent dormitories. I've already seen the slave accommodation in the tower, which is cramped and provides only the most basic of facilities. Most of the other slaves will be arriving in two batches later this afternoon. The fifteen mistresses attending the event are either already here, or will arrive later this morning. They get to stay in the luxury rooms on the upper levels of the tower.

The week long special event is a trial of a new idea. A new game is started at eight o'clock each morning and ends at eight o'clock at night, unless one side or the other wins the game in the meantime. In the unlikely event a game finishes before two o'clock in the afternoon, a shortened version of the game will be started after a short lunch break.

The object of the game is for those of us in the Slave caste to take simultaneous 'control' of six areas of the tower, while the mistresses do what they can to prevent us from doing so. Taking 'control' of an area is simply a matter of switching on a lamp. If all six lamps are lit at the same time, then we have won. It sounds simple, but I'm sure it won't be.

As far as tactics go, locking us all in the dungeon won't work for the mistresses. For the mistresses to win a game they must accumulate points earned from the labours of the slaves. There are twenty-four pre-defined tasks, some of which are basic duties like cleaning or tidying-up, while others are overtly sexual in nature. One of the referees will decide if a task is satisfactorily completed, and points can be awarded to the mistresses.

I estimate that for the mistresses to win they will need to have at least four groups of six slaves working on different tasks at the same time. At least eight of the predefined tasks will need to be completed in the first three hours for the mistresses to gain enough points for a quick victory. After that, time penalties eat into their score, requiring more and more tasks to be completed. Consequently the tactic of locking up all but a handful of easily controlled slaves will also fail to win the game for the mistresses. If all twenty four predefined tasks are completed without the mistresses achieving a winning score, then the game is declared a tie.

With only fifteen mistresses guarding the six target areas and overseeing forty slaves, there should be opportunities for us to escape from our guards and seize one of the areas. Physical assaults on members of the opposing side will result in penalty points being awarded at the discretion of one of the referees. The main problem for the slaves, of course, is coordinating our actions. Seizing one area while the others remain controlled by the mistresses will achieve nothing.

The mistresses can regain control of a seized area by simply switching off the lamp. If the slaves leave guards, then enough mistresses need to be gathered to order the slave-guards to surrender. The game requires a slave to obey a mistress's orders unless she deliberately intends to disobey. If a slave disobeys a mistress's order then she can be shackled, and taken to the dungeon. To avoid physical confrontations, a referee will determine whether there are sufficient mistresses present to impose a surrender. The referee will also verify that the slaves concerned have, in fact, disobeyed a legitimate order, and are not merely being rounded up on the whim of a mistress. Some orders will be considered invalid, such as 'don't escape' or 'don't touch any of the lamps.' It will be interesting to see how mistresses can work around those limitations, and the referees interpretation of such rules.

Once imprisoned in the dungeon, a slave can choose to be confined to a cell, or subjected to punishment delivered by one of the mistresses. Only after a punishment is delivered can the slave return to the game. The punishment is either by a spanking with a slipper, or the slave buying full or partial remission of the punishment by donating points in favour of the mistresses. The dungeon is the only place where any form of punishment instrument can be used. One of the referees will observe the delivery of any punishment to ensure 'fair play,' and record any points donated by a slave.

Other limitations will affect the game. For example, only twelve sets of shackles will be available, so less than a third of the Slave caste can be kept in shackles at any one time. While rope is also available, I know from experience that few mistresses know how to bind a slave in a way that she is both restrained, and able to perform any task that's she's set.

It's late afternoon by the time everyone has arrived on the island, and allocated beds. I feel more enclosed in the tower dormitory than I did in building E4, as I now have other slaves sleeping both sides of me. Some of the slaves read the laminated notices on the wall by the door that detail meal arrangements and other housekeeping matters. I took the time to read them earlier, and I've already checked on the location of the kitchen, toilets and showers. Unlike in building E4, we aren't going to be shackled to our bed at night, and we have free access to the bathroom and kitchen. However, the door giving access to the rest of the tower will be locked until the mistresses unlock the door at the start of the game in the morning. That means we will be under the control of the mistresses from the outset of each game.

"Right! Listen up, slaves," booms one of the slaves in a tone that suggests she's had some military training. "I'm Jessica. We need to organise ourselves and consider some tactics."

Some of the slaves just look at Jessica as though she's grown two heads. I begin to wonder why some of those here wanted to come to this event. However a handful of other slaves respond to Jessica's words with a general murmur of agreement.

"Does anyone know the location of the target areas we need to capture?" continues Jessica.

"They're shown on the map on the notice board in the corridor," replies someone.

"That's a doodle, not a map," scoffs Jessica. "It's not even clear about which level some of the areas are located."

"I've seen two of the areas when I was in a work party last week," I offer.

"And...?" prompts Jessica.

"Area One is near the statue at the base of the northern stairs, on the same level as the main entrance," I continue. "The other one I've seen is Area Three, which is in the room fitted out like a Roman market, on the level above this one."

Jessica compares my description to the 'map' she has retrieved from the notice board.

"This map shows the main entrance to be on level one," says Jessica. "This level is labelled 'B2.'.. Basement Two, I suppose. So that makes Area Three on Basement One. Anyone else have information about this tower. Has anyone attended a previous special event in here?"

Several slaves admit to attending previous events in the tower, but their knowledge is limited to the two basement levels. This level is for slave accommodation and the dungeon, while level Basement One houses three large rooms inside which most previous special events have been played out. It appears that this is the first time levels one and above have been used for more than administration and mistress accommodation during an event.

"I doubt the mistresses suites will be part of the game," observes one slave.

"Yes, but there are several levels of suites, and only fifteen mistresses attending this event," says another. "The lower levels of suites might be vacant, and included in the game."

I'm not sure any of this discussion is leading anywhere. We have too little information to do more than speculate about tactics. Several of those here are clearly close friends, and are more interested in spending time together. There's nowhere to go for privacy, so any intimate liaisons will have plenty of witnesses.

As Jessica said, the map we've been given is deliberately vague. I now wish I'd paid more attention while I've been on work parties in here preparing for the event. I think hard about what I've seen while I was on those work parties.

By the time I've put together some recollections, the other slaves are preoccupied with their own groups of friends. I go over to Jessica, who is talking to two older slaves she clearly knows.

"Hi, I'm Tessa," I say, even though the letters on my necklace announce my name for me. "I've been on work parties in here over the last couple of weeks. I may have some helpful observations if you are interested."

"Hmm," replies one of the older slaves... Sandra, according to her necklace. "I've not seen you here before. Are you a new member?"

"I'm not actually a member," I reply. "I won a competition and a six week stay here was my prize."

"As a slave! Some prize!" laughs Sandra. "I'll salute you if you last the full six weeks. Well, if you have any intel, I suggest you tell it to Jess. She's the head cook."

What I earlier took to be a hint of military training in Jessica's forthright way of speaking could equally apply to being a head cook in a busy kitchen. Jessica finishes her discussion with Dolly, before turning to me. Up close, I realise that Jessica is no older than me... twenty-four at the outside. She's quite attractive, with long light brown hair tied in braids. Like the rest of us, she wears the standard Slave caste outfit with her tits exposed. I've seen so many pairs of naked tits in the last fortnight that I'm now usually blasé about seeing them. However, Jessica's tits attract my eye as they fit my idea of perfection.

"If you want to rub tits, then we can do that later," says Jessica, making me drop my eyes from the delicious sight I've been ogling. "What do you have that you think may be useful tomorrow."

Jessica invites me to sit next to her on her bed, and I rattle off a series of unconnected things I've noticed over the last two weeks. When I've finished, Jessica pieces together what I've said into a more logical explanation.

"So, the beds in the suites on the lower two floors of the mistress accommodation have all been moved into the storerooms. An iron gate has been installed on the landing leading to the levels above that. And the centre of each suite emptied of its bed now has several flock mattresses laid out on the floor. Sounds like they've been converted into playrooms for some serious sex games."

I don't know what Jessica means by 'serious sex games,' nor how those might fit into the games tomorrow. I know some of the tasks we will be doing during a game will be of sexual in nature, but I assumed that would be something like strip poker or spin the bottle. I guess we will find out soon enough. Jessica invites me to stay with her while we find ourselves something to eat. Jessica introduces me to a few more of her acquaintances among the slaves gathered for the games.

"How long have you been a member of La Chatte Heureuse?" I ask Jessica.

"I joined three years ago, although I only started coming here last year after my mother died. I suddenly found I was at a loose end during my breaks from work. This is the first special event I've attended. Did I hear you tell Sandra that you're here as a result of a competition?"

"Yes," I reply. "Six weeks as a slave on a luxury island sounded like a great adventure. At least, compared to listening to my parents constantly lecture me about same-sex relationships."

"You still live at home then?" probes Jessica.

"Yeah. At least, when I'm not at university. I'll be starting my final year in a few weeks. I'll find somewhere of my own to live once I graduate and secure a job."

Jessica and I take our food into an area called 'the hole.' It's a large square patio set fifteen feet below ground, and surrounded by a brick wall. There's a vertical metal ladder up the wall that represents our fire escape. The open top to the patio is covered with a metal grill, ensuring those below remain imprisoned. A small hatch above the ladder is electronically locked to only open in response to a fire alarm. The hole is our sole access to the outside for the next week. With the interior door to the upper levels of the tower locked, we are all confined on this level until the first game begins in the morning.

"How do you think the game will go tomorrow?" I ask Jessica.

"I don't know. Half the slaves here wouldn't disobey an order even if their life depended on it. It will depend on how well the mistresses coordinate their team. There's every chance they will waste a lot of time fighting among themselves over who is queen bee."

"Maybe we should take it easy on the first game and use it to test some tactics and study the areas we are supposed to control," I suggest. "Afterwards we can agree on how to go about winning the later games."

"That's a good idea, but be careful who you share it with," cautions Jessica. "The mistresses will target anyone they think might be a leader among us. There are slaves here who would happily betray that information if it avoids a punishment. Most of the slaves here are little better than sheep. That's not surprising. After all, we each chose the Slave caste and all that it represents. Without leaders to herd the sheep in the right direction, there's little chance of our side winning any game."

"Do you think there are any slaves here with their regular mistresses?" I ask.

"You mean 'chattel slaves.' There shouldn't be any mistress-slave pairs here. The entry requirements were quite clear about that. I presume the staff registering the applications made a thorough check, although I doubt the system is foolproof."

As the evening progresses, the mood in the slave quarters becomes festive. Those who have been to special events before regale their experiences to anyone willing to listen. From what I can gather, these events aren't for the faint-hearted, nor those whose fitness leaves a lot to be desired.

Despite the party atmosphere, everyone is ready for bed by ten o'clock. We can't control the lights in our prison, and the main lights are automatically dimmed to a faint glow at ten. Although we each have our own assigned bed, it soon becomes clear that more than a few slaves are into sharing with a friend. I don't know anybody well enough to share a bed, which is why I'm surprised when a warm naked body slides under my blanket.

"Lose the night dress, Tessa," whispers Jessica, as she runs her hand up my leg.

My night dress is the standard issue nightwear allocated to those of the Slave caste during special events. It's little more than thin cotton shift with a cutaway back. The flimsy shift is held in place by a pair of ties fastened behind my neck. One gentle pull on the knot and my shift will promptly fall down to my ankles. Since I'm already in bed, I sit up and work the unfastened shift down my body until my feet kick can it onto the floor.

I've barely settled back down when Jessica's mouth is covering mine in a deep kiss, and one of her hands roams across my tits. I quickly reciprocate her actions. Before long Jessica has buried her face between my legs and her tongue is working me towards an orgasm. My sighs of pleasure get so loud that Jessica plonks her hand across my mouth. We aren't the only couple in this dormitory engaged in this sort of activity and the steady stream of moans and grunts must be preventing those trying to sleep from doing so. And yet nobody complains.

In the gloom, it's difficult to see beyond the adjacent beds. The one on my left is empty, so I presume Diana is warming someone else's bed. The bed on my right has a single occupant. She's busy watching Jessica and me, and I'd swear she's playing with herself as she watches. If my bed was larger, I would invite her to join us for a threesome. As it is, I can only let her be a voyeur... something which triggers a guilty pleasure inside me.

By midnight there are few of us still awake. Jessica seems to have the stamina of a marathon runner, and despite being tired, I do my best to keep up with her play. I don't know what time it is when I fall asleep.

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Chapter 7: Tessa. Monday Week 3

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Jessica, Sandra and I meet in 'the hole' after a long and difficult second game. We at least achieved a tie today, compared to the comprehensive defeat yesterday. The only reason the first game lasted until four o'clock in the afternoon was because the mistresses were initially no better organised than the slaves. At least the first game gave us an insight as to who among us can be relied on in a difficult situation.

Jessica was right when she said that the mistresses would target any slave they considered to be a leader. By the end of the second game, Jessica and four other slaves are having to play while locked in shackles. The restraints slow them down considerably, and intimidate several other slaves from being more adventurous. So far I've kept my head down and not attracted any undue attention from the mistresses.

"I can't see how we are going to win a game," says Jessica, easing the marks on her wrists and ankles now that she's free of the shackles. "The best we've done is three areas controlled at a time."

"I agree," replies Sandra. "I'm also not sure how many of us are trying to win the game. Some are more eager to perform the sexually oriented tasks."

I admit that I also enjoy some of the sexy tasks. Oiling each other with baby oil was a lot of fun even if it earned the mistresses points to our detriment. Matching and fitting coloured condoms to painted wooden cocks was also fun, even though of no practical use in my life.

"And then there are the timid ones who forfeit points rather than face a spanking," adds Jessica.

"There must be some way of winning," says Sandra. "Whoever designed the game must have anticipated the challenges we face."

Perhaps, although this is the first time these games have been run, so at lot of the rules are untested. The tactics employed by the mistresses have worked far more successfully than ours. Where possible, they rope us together, with the most timid of our group at the ends. Those in the middle can't free themselves without the cooperation of one of the end slaves. If the task makes it impractical to have us confined in a coffle, then extra mistresses supervise our work. They don't bother guarding the areas we need to capture, but instead have a roving squad of mistresses to recapture anything we take.

"How do the mistresses know if an area is captured if they aren't standing guard?" asks Sandra.

"Perhaps they don't," muses Jessica. "Maybe they simply patrol each area in turn."

"Or there's a central monitoring station somewhere that indicates the areas that are controlled by each side," I say. "After all, how will the referees establish that all areas are captured at the same time? There are only six referees, and one of them supervises the punishments. The referees can't be everywhere."

"Yes! That makes sense," says Jessica. "But where would such a monitor be located?"

"Clearly where a referee is stationed, and somewhere accessible to the mistresses," replies Sandra.

"The dungeon!" the three of us conclude at the same time.

We can't access inside the dungeon at the moment as it is only used during a game. However we can see where the referee is stationed through the metal grill. There's a small panel of lights on the wall behind where the referee sits. Odds on that's the indicator panel we are looking for, although we can't be sure until tomorrow. Of course, having gained that knowledge, there remains the question of what to do with it.

The referees had called an end to today's game just before seven o'clock even though we hadn't completed all twenty-four tasks. By that stage it was obvious that time penalties would deny the mistresses a winning score even if the last of the tasks were completed. Thankfully we learned from our mistakes yesterday and avoided risking lily-livered slaves being sent to the dungeon. The forfeited points for avoiding a spanking helped the mistresses to a resounding victory yesterday. Today we didn't try guarding every captured area, so only a few stout-hearted slaves were sent to the dungeon and endured their punishment.

I remain with Jessica and Sandra as we have something to eat and then take a short break in 'the hole.' Although we are a long way off winning a game, the festive mood hasn't diminished so far. Many regard achieving a tie as a moral victory for the slaves, and given our disadvantages, perhaps it is. We are learning from our mistakes, although I'm sure the mistresses are doing the same.

Tonight I'm invited into Jessica's bed. It's no different from mine, but at least both beds either side of her are empty tonight. After the frolics of the last two nights, I feel I have a better understanding of Jessica's preferences when it comes to sex. She's far more experienced with this lifestyle than me, and my naïvety must be obvious. My clumsy attempts at cunnilingus are tolerated, and with her guidance my technique is improving. In exchange I let her satisfy her fetish for binding my arms behind me. While I like bondage play, my past experiences haven't included overtly sexual acts while I'm bound. It's another new experience for me.

We fall asleep in a tangle of arms and legs. At least Jessica unbinds my arms before she falls asleep. Last night I had to endure several hours of discomfort before she woke in the night and realised her mistake. However, she made amends in the morning by taking my turn to tidy the kitchen after breakfast.

Today we are all ready by the time the game starts at eight o'clock. As occurred yesterday, we are let out of the slave quarters in small groups and herded into a room. There we are roped together into six groups of six slaves and one group of four. Shackles are placed on Jessica and five other slaves, one more than yesterday. Since I'm not a regular member, there are few people on either team who know me. Consequently, it's easy for me to keep a low profile. The mistresses obviously consider me to be 'safe,' so I'm placed at the end of a coffle of six. Two mistresses, Madame Celia and Madame Yasmine, come and lead us away to our first task.

We are the second group to be marched from the room, so I don't know if all the other groups are taken away like us. If all seven groups of slaves are supervised by a pair of mistresses, and assuming one mistress is on duty in the dungeon, then all the mistresses are fully assigned. That means that there's no roving squad of mistresses to recapture any seized areas. This appears to be a change of tactics, probably in response to our own change of game-plan yesterday.

The task we are being set is in the Roman market in Basement One. It's one of the more boring tasks... picking up scores of small cubes and stacking them neatly into several wooden boxes only just large enough to take them all. We could do the job a lot faster if we weren't roped together, but that would also increase the likelihood of one or more of us slipping away. One of the lamps we need to target is nearby, but seizing that in isolation to any of the others would be pointless. However, this is likely to be the only time we will be brought into this room to work, so it's an opportunity to be considered.

I need to confirm that the panel we saw in the dungeon is monitoring the status of the lamps. As we work our way towards the cubes scattered closest to the lamp, I take the opportunity to study the target area. The lamp is on a large table. Fastened to the lampshade is a small device with a data cable running from it that soon disappears into the fake building façades that line that side of the room. I now recall seeing a woman electrician installing the data line a week or so ago while I was on a working party in here. Intuition tells me that the device is a light detector that sends a signal to the monitoring station if it detects the lamp is on. It's an interesting discovery, but I'm unsure how it helps us.

On impulse I unfasten my rope bonds and make a dash for the lamp. As I anticipated, the average mistress is incapable of securely fastening a rope tie. The rest of my coffle stops work and watches in bemusement. Like me, they know my escape is pointless.

"Stand still, Slave!" orders Madame Celia as soon as she sees me.

I disobey and flip the light on. I stand defiantly in front of the lamp as the two mistresses look at me in disbelief. They tell the rest of the slaves to lie face down on the floor with their hands on the backs of their heads. The slaves obey, and Madame Celia then turns her attention to me.

"You disobeyed a direct order, Slave," she sneers. "That's a visit to the dungeon for you."

Just as I begin to wonder whether Madame Celia is going to leave Madame Jasmine alone with five slaves, a third mistress enters our area. She's been running, so I presume she's come in response to an alarm triggered by the lamp being turned on. Given the speed of her arrival, she must have come from nearby.

Madame Lash... not her real name, obviously... escorts me to the dungeon after switching off the lamp. She's not unduly rough with me, but any attempt by me to meander off course, or delay our arrival, results in a hard shove in the back. She hasn't sought to bind me in any way, probably because she assumes any escape would be short lived.

"Slave Tessa has disobeyed at direct order," says Madame Lash to the referee on duty... Madame Nicole.

Madame Nicole writes something into a large book before turning towards me. Notably there's little in the way of modern technology inside the tower.

"Did you deliberately disobey an order, Slave Tessa?" asks Madame Nicole.

"I did, Madame," I reply, trying to look contrite while I scan the panel behind her.

There are six small circular glass indicators on the panel. They are all dark at the moment, but that doesn't surprise me. I saw Madame Lash switch off the lamp before bringing me here. It's the data cables running into the panel that convinces me that this is the monitoring panel. All look new and are identical to the one leading from the lamp I had briefly switched on.

"Foolish slave," huffs Madame Lash. "Tried to capture Area Three all by herself."

"Hmm. Well you've a choice, Slave Tessa," says Madame Nicole. "As this is your first offence, you can choose five hours in a dungeon cell, five strikes of the slipper, or forfeit five points to the mistresses. What's it to be?"

"The slipper, Madame," I reply, not wanting to waste five hours in a cell, and certainly not join the list of wimps who have forfeited points.

"So be it," replies Madame Nicole, entering my choice in the register.

Madame Lash guides me over to a wooden horse and has me bend over the bar. She fastens my ankles and wrists to the corners of the horse, leaving my arse high in the air. By now I've given up wearing panties. They've been ripped off me so many times, I feel guilty for asking for replacements. Madame Lash runs her hands over my arse and her fingers probe my cleft. That's not strictly in the rules, but Madame Nicole can't see what Madame Lash is doing.

"You're moist down there, Slave Tessa," says Madame Lash as she presents her fingers in front of my face. "Does being bound like this excite you?"

"Yes, Madame," I reply. "It's why I did what I did."

"Pervert!" laughs Madame Lash, not seeing through my ruse. "I'll look forward to delivering your future punishments."

Madame Lash doesn't waste time before starting the punishment. Five strikes of an old slipper spaced five seconds apart are soon delivered. I don't cry out, but tears form in my eyes despite my best efforts to suppress them. My arse is sore but it isn't any worse than the tit flogging I've tolerated before. I'm promptly unbound and allowed to have ten minutes lying on a mattress to recover. The pain soon eases into a warm glow that keeps me in a passive state of arousal. I'm tempted to slide my hand between my legs to relieve the urges building inside me, but I stay focussed on my mission.

My dedication is rewarded when one of the indicators on the panel lights up. Madame Lash is off like a rocket, leaving me unattended. Madame Nicole makes a note in her register but she continues to ignore me. Although I would appreciate another five minutes recovering, I realise that if I want to leave the dungeon unescorted, then now is my best opportunity. I ease myself into a standing position and make for the door upstairs.

"If you get caught wandering around on your own then you'll probably be sent back here, Slave Tessa," warns Madame Nicole. "The size of punishment for a second offence rises from five to eight."

"But I haven't disobeyed any orders, Madame," I reply.

"If you are on your own when you are found, then a mistress will undoubtedly claim that you disobeyed an order, even if you haven't done so. The word of a mistress will always outweigh that of a slave. Be warned."

"Thank you for the warning, Madame," I reply, determined to continue with my plan.

I'm careful to stay in the shadows as I try to locate the route of the data cables to the indicator panel. If I can temporarily disable the indicator panel, then there's a good chance we can capture more of the target areas without Madame Lash being aware of a problem. Most of the target areas are in infrequently travelled areas, so it might be possible to switch on many of the lights without them being discovered accidentally.

I locate what I assume is the data cable leading to the dungeon. It runs along the wall about head high towards a set of stairs that I've not seen before. I spend the next hour exploring the stairs and surrounding areas on each floor. The data cable feeding the dungeon indicator panel uses these stairs to reach the floors above. There are small connection boxes wherever a branch in the cable is needed. The data cables and boxes have obviously been fitted in a way that enables easy removal after the games. That's a bonus for me as it means that I only need to pull one or more plugs from the connection boxes to disable the indicator panel. Given the low-tech nature of the equipment used in the tower, I'm assuming that nothing as sophisticated as a broken-circuit detector is built into the system. Restoring the circuit only requires pushing the plug back in.

I test my theory by sneaking in to the room housing one of the target areas. There's nobody about, so I first disconnect the plug in the stairwell and then switch on the light. I wait in hiding for any sign of a reaction. After five minutes I realise that I've succeeded. I could get greedy and try the same trick on other floors, and even win the game. But that's risky. If I'm caught, then what I've discovered will become known to the mistresses, and steps taken to prevent a recurrence. Far better for me to enlist some allies to cover our tracks should I get caught. That way we can use the same trick again and again.

I complete my test by reconnecting the circuit to the indicator panel. That should light up the indicator on the panel in the dungeon. Sure enough, a few minutes later I'm 'caught' making a poor attempt to flee the scene of my crime.

"We've caught the bitch!" cries Madame Celia as she charges into the room with Madame Lash not far behind.

"I'll take her to the dungeon, Celia," says Madame Lash. "You go and tell the others to unlock the slaves from the holding area and get them back to work. We've lost nearly an hour of everyone's time looking for this one."

Seriously?! They've locked all the other slaves up while they've been looking for me? That must surely put the mistresses at a disadvantage. Time penalties will soon eat into their score, and hardly any tasks will have been completed so far.

"I don't know what your game is, Slave Tessa, but I hope you like wearing shackles," says Madame Lash with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You're either very stupid or very smart. I believe you know exactly what you've done, so you're a marked woman for the rest of these games."

Madame Nicole notes my arrival in her register and gives me my options for punishment. Just as she warned me, I'm accused of disobeying an order I was never given. I could try disputing the fact, but I sense that I'm better of keeping out of the mistresses way for a while. I elect to serve eight hours in a cell. Madame Lash looks disappointed. I'm sure she was looking forward to tanning my arse.

I don't completely get away from the mistresses ire. My wrists and ankles are unnecessarily locked in shackles before I'm guided into a cell. I make myself as comfortable as possible on the wooden bench that is the only item of furniture in the cell. Madame Nicole checks on me before the door is locked. I'm given a bottle of water, a packet of biscuits and a chamber pot. Then I'm plunged into near darkness as the door is pulled closed. Like the dungeon in building E4, the only light into a cell is through a small barred window in the door. I settle down for a long wait.

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Chapter 8: Jessica: Wednesday Week 3

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Sandra and I know that Tessa is the real architect of our victory today. After our shameful loss on Sunday, and a lucky tied game on Monday, our fortunes have changed. The tie on Tuesday was mainly due to the hour lost when Tessa went missing. Despite the mistresses best efforts, they couldn't recover the lost time. They pushed us hard to finish the tasks, but the time penalties were simply too much for them to achieve victory. Of course, at that time, we had no idea what Tessa had discovered. She was locked in a cell for eight hours, so by the time she was released the game was all but over.

Today was another matter. Armed with the information Tessa gained, we had a plan. But only five of us could be trusted with the secret knowledge Tessa acquired. Far too many of our number would reveal the information to the mistresses to protect their own interests. And if we intend to win the last two days of games, then keeping our secret from the mistresses is essential.

As to be expected, Tessa was watched like a hawk today. Like Sandra and me, she was locked in fetters the moment the game started. But the three of us were decoys, distracting the mistresses from watching Diana and Hazel who slipped away and returned unnoticed several times, firstly to disable the sensors and switch on the lights, and then to reactivate the sensor circuit so our win was registered on the panel in the dungeon. It took many hours to achieve, but the mistresses fell for our ruse.

"We need to do things differently tomorrow," says Sandra. "The mistresses will be wondering why the panel suddenly had all lights registered at once. A simultaneous attack on all the target areas would be nearly impossible to achieve, so the mistresses might suspect some trickery with the sensors."

"And we must be careful not to get sent to the dungeon," says Tessa. "I thought the size of our punishments would reset at the start of each game, but that's not happening. I'm up to sixteen hours in the cells or sixteen strikes of the slipper."

"Yeah, my next punishment is twelve, and Sandra is up to twenty," I reply. "And it doesn't help that any time in the cells doesn't end when the game is over. Getting caught towards the end of a game could mean that you miss the start of the next. Not to mention an uncomfortable night in the cell."

"We could always forfeit points," muses Sandra. "Even twenty points lost will be worthwhile if we can win fast enough."

"Yes, but we can't be sure how quickly we can win," adds Tessa. "I suspect the mistresses will change tactics after our win today and start patrolling the target areas more frequently."

None of us raise the issue that well over half of the slaves aren't overly interested in winning a game. They are here to have fun, and they are perfectly content to follow the mistresses orders and keep out of trouble. The evening frolics in the dormitories suggests everyone is enjoying their time here, and the daily game is just an excuse for having a week of fun.

Rain starts to fall, so we conclude our meeting in 'the hole' and dash back inside. While I find the lack of active participation in the games by many of the slaves disappointing, at least Tessa, Sandra and I have acquired a fearsome reputation among the slaves here. Theoretically, all slaves are equal, but the three of us are treated with the sort of respect normally reserved for ladies and mistresses. Without asking, our names are suddenly omitted from the rosters allocating various cleaning duties in the slave quarters.

Tessa goes to take a shower, while Sandra and I put together some food. I've known Sandra for several years. We are close friends, but we both know that we'll never be lovers. My feelings towards Tessa are very different. She was a stranger to me only a few days ago, and yet I feel that she and I are kindred spirits. She has some taboos about sex which we need to work on, but I admire her courage and determination. The way she has devoted her energies to helping our team win today's game, speaks volumes about her commitment. I would like us to continue our relationship away from the island, but I'm not fooling myself about the difficulties that will present. We live and work hundreds of miles apart. My parents are dead, while Tessa's parents constantly interfere in her life. And what happens when Tessa graduates next year. She'll probably be in line for some fancy high paid job. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of her career.

"Are you thinking about Tessa again?" asks Sandra.

"Yes," I sigh. "I'm just making fanciful dreams of the future."

"I suggest you tell her how you feel about her, and let her decide what she wants to do," says Sandra. "For all you know, there may be hidden factors that make possible what seems impossible."

"You are far too wise for your age," I laugh.

"If I was wise, I wouldn't be a slave in this tower," replies Sandra.

"Yes you would. You enjoy this lifestyle. Admit it!"

"Hmm... I confess that there's one of the mistresses here whom I'd be happy to bury my tongue inside her cunt. She's been regularly overseeing whichever coffle I've been assigned. I think she's taken a fancy to me."

"Which one? Have you spoken to each other? I mean, other than her issuing orders and you saying 'Yes Madame.'"

"Mistress Brianna. And no, we haven't had anything approaching a conversation. I wasn't sure I was the one she is interested in until today."

"Well, don't take too long to make a move. We all go our separate ways on Saturday."

"I'll accept you advice if you heed your own words regarding Tessa," says Sandra,

"What's that regarding me?" asks Tessa, walking naked into our dormitory, fresh from the shower.

I stumble for words before confessing how I feel about Tessa. I brace myself for a rejection, but all I receive is a passionate hug and kiss.

"I'm not sure how we are going to manage it, but I'd like it if we can see each other afterwards," whispers Tessa into my ear.

My heart misses a few beats and I draw Tessa onto my bed. She promptly lifts my skirt and buries her tongue deep inside my cunt. The slaves around us simply smile and leave us to our public display of indecency. I couldn't be happier.

That night Tessa and I are never more than a few inches apart. I introduce her to anal sex by gently pushing my finger up her arse. She briefly goes rigid before relaxing and allowing me to continue. I'm not sure if she enjoys it, but apart from her initial reaction, she makes no effort to stop me. We don't get more than a couple of hours sleep that night.

The usual routine is followed the next morning. At eight o'clock all the slaves are herded into a holding area and shackles are applied to the three of us who are still deemed 'dangerous.'.. Tessa, Sandra, and me. I suspect that assessment has been influenced by information leaked by spies among our number. When we are fully restrained, there is an obvious change of tactics by the mistresses. The three of us in shackles aren't tied in the rope coffles, but are marched away separately from the rest. Our destination is one of the themed rooms on level Basement One. This room is known as the Sheik's Harem for obvious reasons. The mistresses normally reserve the pre-defined task in here until later in the game as the task usually takes several hours to complete... longer if it's to be completed by three shackled slaves. The mistresses have so far preferred to have the faster tasks completed first so that there's a chance for a quick victory. It's a tactic that worked on Sunday, but not since.

We are supervised by three mistresses, Mesdames Celia, Brianna and Lash. Devoting a fifth of their number to three slaves, means thinning the guard over everyone else. Hopefully Diana and Hazel can make good use of that since it appears we are going to be constantly supervised and kept well away from any target areas.

"Welcome to the Harem of Hell, slaves," chortles Madame Celia.

"Don't be so dramatic, Celia," chides Madame Lash. "Let's first explain to these slaves how their day is going to go. Kneel on the floor, slaves. Keep quiet and listen well."

We obey, since refusal would have us sent to the dungeon, which I suspect would delight these mistresses.

"Your day is going to be unpleasant unless you choose to reveal how you won the game yesterday," continues Madame Lash. "And don't pretend that you three aren't the architects of that victory. We have our spies in your midst who are only too happy to betray you. If you decide to be stubborn, then we will be pleased to test your endurance as you complete the task in this room. I presume you know what that task is? Personally I find the task perverted, but that's probably fitting for you. Just remember that it can all end if you reveal what we want to know."

Other than the task is sexual in nature, I have no idea what we are required to do. The three of us haven't been in a coffle that was given this task, and for some reason, none of the slaves previously assigned to this task have spoken about it. We aren't left in ignorance for long.

"There are twelve plastic beakers on the table over there," says Madame Brianna. "You must fill each beaker up to the mark with your cum. How you do that is up to you, but nobody leaves this room until you do... unless, of course, it's to the dungeon for punishment."

"And don't be slow or we will find ways to add incentives," says Madame Celia. "I strongly recommend that you tell us what we want to know now, and save yourself from further punishment."

"The slaves must be allowed to perform their task without hindrance," says Madame Rebecca, who has come into the room without us noticing.

"You are here as referee, Rebecca, so please don't interfere," responds Madame Lash. "Rest assured that we will give the slaves every chance to perform their task. But the rules allow us to add incentives in the event there is any slacking. Now don't you have other groups to check on?"

"Hmm," replies Madame Rebecca. "As long as the rules are respected, then I'll have no need to impose any penalty points."

"Understood, Rebecca," replies Madame Lash. "Now, if you've said your peace, please allow us to continue."

We're facing away from the door, so we don't see Madame Rebecca leave. However, the three mistresses clearly relax a few moments later. I suspect they intend to push interpretation of the rules to the limit in order to extract the information they want.

"You face a huge task. That's a lot of cum needed to fill these beakers. So, we've brought a few toys with us to help you achieve your duty," says Madame Celia, producing a box of strap-on cocks, a selection of vibrators and the devilish remote-controlled vibrators that some slaves agree to wear.

Madame Brianna walks up to Sandra holding one of the remote controlled vibrators. After what Sandra said last night, I can soon see the chemistry sparking between the two of them.

"Do you consent to wearing one of these, Slave Sandra?" asks Madame Brianna. "It will help you achieve your task."

"Yes, Madame Brianna," replies Sandra, looking longingly into her eyes.

Sandra is allowed to stand while she inserts the vibrator into her cunt. Then she resumes her kneeling position. Madame Brianna lifts the controller and adjusts the intensity. The effect on Sandra is obvious for all to see. The test is short lived, so Sandra isn't aroused to the point of an orgasm, but it sends a message to Tessa and me. But allowing the mistresses to control us in this way is risky, and enduring twelve hours of torment could break our resolve. However, Sandra has made her choice.

"What about you, Slave Tessa?" asks Madame Lash, as she makes the same offer to Tessa. "Or would you prefer the strap-on up your arse?"

"I consent to the vibrator, Madame," replies Tessa, clearly wanting to avoid the alternative.

By rights, the mistresses should abide by a slave's personal taboos, and honour the use of the safe-word. Unfortunately, none of us can be sure that will be respected in here.

Madame Celia makes the same offer to me, but I refuse. She promptly fastens a strap-on cock to her hips and selects a couple of regular vibrators.

"Fill all the beakers with your cum and your torment will be over," says Madame Lash. "Let's begin."

Sandra, Tessa and I each take a beaker and we submit ourselves to the whims of the three mistresses. Madame Celia promptly comes behind me and rams her strap-on cock into my arse. She pumps away slowly while using the vibrator on my cunt. I can't help myself from becoming aroused and within minutes I'm approaching an orgasm.

Sandra and Tessa are no better off. When the remote controlled vibrators are normally used, they are triggered in short duration bursts. It soon becomes obvious that the only variation in the torment heaped on Sandra and Tessa is the intensity of the vibrator. Both are soon in a state of helplessness as their arousal reaches its peak. Before long they are starting to fill the beaker as they are skilfully kept in an almost endless orgasm. It's an erotic scene as moans and whimpers echo around the room.

It takes just over half an hour for Tessa to fill her first beaker. Sandra is only a few minutes behind, while I'm struggling with a half full beaker. Having filled her first beaker, Tessa is allowed a few minutes respite before being taken to a more comfortable area of the harem and given a fresh beaker to fill.

"Thirty two minutes, Slave Tessa," says Madame Lash. "Let's see if we can do the next one in under half and hour."

I'm too busy squirting my latest offering into the beaker to notice Tessa's plight as the vibrator in her cunt resumes its work. I presume Sandra is in the same situation, but she's out of my line of sight. Madame Celia likes me on my hands and knees like a dog as she reams my arse. The shackles make the position uncomfortable, but I don't expect mercy from Madame Celia.

After a couple of hours we've filled seven of the twelve beakers. Our rate of progress has slowed, mainly due to exhaustion, but also because our erotic submission has had a powerful effect on the libido of the mistresses. Madame Brianna and Sandra are openly having sex together, while Madame Lash is enjoying Tessa's face between her legs. It's something of a speciality that Tessa seems to have developed in here. Only Madame Celia seems more interested in tormenting me than receiving any sexual gratification. Perhaps that's what turns her on.

By mid afternoon we finally fill the last beaker. I don't know about Tessa and Sandra, but I'm completely drained. Despite being allowed to drink plenty of water, I feel completely dehydrated. Allowing for cum that missed the beaker, we must have expelled nearly two litres of cum. The three of us look at the three mistresses hoping that our ordeal is over. No such luck. Instead of fetching a referee to confirm completion of the task, Madame Lash takes one of the beakers and pours its contents over Tessa.

"Oops!" says Madame Lash. "It looks as though there's one more in need of filling."

I would scream in frustration but Madame Celia hasn't eased up on her periodic reaming of my arse, which is now really sore. Only Sandra and Madame Brianna seem to be content with this game.

To Tessa's credit she simply takes the empty beaker, and scoops what she can of the cum on her body into the beaker. It barely fills a quarter of the beaker, but I suppose it is better than nothing. However, Madame Lash isn't simply going to repeat her earlier play with the controller. She has Tessa stand up while a rope is fastened to the short chain linking her wrists. The other end of the rope is passed over a beam in the ceiling and pulled tight, dragging Tessa's arms above her until she is forced to stand on tiptoes. Only then is the rope tied off, leaving Tessa completely exposed.

What follows is both disgusting and erotic at the same time. Madame Lash uses the controller to reduce Tessa to a whimpering plaything as she's brought to the cusp of an orgasm, but denied fulfilment.

"Tell us what we want to know, and you'll receive the pleasure you crave, Slave!" barks Madame Lash.

Tessa bravely refuses to reveal our secret, and Madame Lash is forced to modify her torment. Now she allows Tessa the occasional orgasm, dutifully letting her cum run into the beaker. She's clearly an expert in this sort of thing, knowing exactly how little to concede to keep the slave begging for more. I don't think I could withstand that level of intense torment, but somehow Tessa manages to do so.

The torment continues for nearly an hour while Sandra and I are made to watch from our kneeling positions in front of her. Tears are streaming down Tessa's face, but whether from pain, anguish or frustration is impossible to determine. Madame Lash isn't unduly cruel, but there's no let up in her steady torment of her helpless slave.

The episode comes to abrupt end when Madame Rebecca returns and announces that the game is over. The slaves have won. Madame Celia cries out in anger, while Madame Brianna seems ambivalent. Madame Lash simply nods in acknowledgement and brings Tessa to a powerful orgasm before switching off the device. The mistresses walk out of the room, one of them tossing the keys to our shackles on the floor. We promptly set about freeing ourselves.

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Chapter 9: Nicole. Saturday Week 4 of Tessa's stay.

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The departure of the participants after any special event is always an interesting sight. After a week confined inside the tower, new friendships will have been formed, old ones renewed, and a few personal scores settled. I watch as the first batch of visitors prepare to walk down to the jetty where the boat awaits. When they arrived last Saturday, the mistresses arrived in the morning and the slaves in two batches during the afternoon. The allocation of seats on the return trip doesn't give priority to the mistresses. Whoever has the longest journey gets first call on the seats. Kirsty will do her best to ferry everyone to where the bus waits and get back here as quickly as possible. Three round trips will be needed, and if all goes to plan the last boat will depart shortly after lunch.

As usual, a few of the participants have booked to stay on the island for a while longer. In my absence last week, Brooke will have new accommodation organised for the two mistresses and two slaves with extended stays. Rebecca will escort Slaves Tessa and Lauren to the dormitory in building E4 and transition them to their normal slave duties.

I watch Slave Tessa as she farewells Slave Jessica, who is leaving on the first boat. Their fond goodbye is interrupted by Alina, more commonly known as Madame Lash. Alina hands the pair of them her business card and says a few words to both of them. Knowing how Alina works, I'm guessing the two slaves have impressed Alina and she's making an offer they might want to consider.

"I didn't anticipate a three-one win to the slaves," says Monique, coming to stand beside me. "How did the slaves manage that after the shambles on Sunday?"

"I'm not sure, but I think quizzing Slave Tessa might provide the answer," I reply. "Is it important? Apart from those mistresses who are sore losers, everyone seemed to have a good time."

"If we want to repeat that format of event in the future, I think we need to understand any loopholes in our design," says Monique. "We'll get everyone's feedback over the next few weeks, but I'm curious as to how the slaves achieved what they did. Either the mistresses were bungling fools, or there's a glitch in the way we set-up the game."

"I think the mistresses were simply out-smarted by a few of the slaves," I say. "I mean, look at the way the mistresses set up their spy network among the slaves. By Wednesday, those who were secretly spying for the mistresses may as well have had 'SPY' written across their forehead. But instead of unmasking the spies, the other slaves simply fed them false information."

"That still doesn't explain how the slaves managed to capture all the target areas simultaneously. When the game concept was run through a simulator, the odds on the slaves winning more than one game bordered on impossible. Winning three suggests some form of trickery."

"Hmm. I still think Slave Tessa might know the answer to that. It was her disappearance for an hour on Tuesday that seemed to turn the games in favour of the slaves."

"Tessa's here for another week, isn't she?" queries Monique.

"Another three weeks," I reply. "That's assuming she lasts the course."

"You think she'll quit early?" asks Monique.

"Had you asked me that three weeks ago, I would have said yes, but now I think she stands every chance of going the distance."

"That will be interesting to see," says Monique. "Faye is arriving on Thursday for a ten day stay, and you know her preferred type of slave."

My heart sinks. While most mistresses can be mean bitches at times, Faye is by far and away the harshest. She's not unduly cruel, but she tests any slave's resolve to the limit. And her favourite type of slave is a 'Buttercup.' Faye and Tessa will be drawn to each other like moths to a flame. Can Tessa withstand everything Faye will put her through?

"Do you think we should do anything?" I ask Monique.

"No," replies Monique. "Faye is a club member, Tessa is not. Tessa signed the standard agreement, so we have discharged our duty of care."

I doubt a lawyer would agree with Monique's statement, but for all we know, we could be jumping at shadows. Tessa proved to be remarkably resilient at the hands of Madame Lash. Perhaps she can do the same under Faye's dominion.

I go to find Stephanie, who is organising the slave work parties today. I would like the opportunity to question Tessa about the slaves' victory.

"There are several work parties in the tower, dismantling the props used in last week's event," says Stephanie. "I can arrange for Tessa to be on one of this afternoon's work parties."

Questioning Tessa at the scene of the 'crime' seems appropriate, and I ask Stephanie to arrange it. I spend the next few hours bringing my work up to date.

"Does this bring back memories?" I ask Tessa that afternoon, when I locate her cleaning the Sheik's Harem in the tower.

"Yes, Madame," replies Tessa. "I didn't think it was possible to have so many orgasms in such a short space of time until Madame Lash proved otherwise."

"Any regrets about joining the special event?"

"No. None at all, Madame. I'm delighted I did so. I had a great time, and I met some new friends in the process."

"That's good to hear," I reply. "You proved to be very elusive when you disappeared for an hour during Tuesday's game. I think that's what spoilt the mistresses chance of winning that game."

"It was the mistresses reaction to my disappearance that wrecked their chances of winning, Madame. They stopped all work on the tasks while they searched for me. If I was a mistress, I wouldn't have done that. One person cannot capture all the target areas at once, and Madame Lash showed that she could respond to any lamp I switched on before I could reach any others. At best, I could reach two or three targets before being caught. There was no need for all the slaves to stop work."

"Hmm. So you were aware the captured areas were known to Madame Lash."

"Yes, of course. I already suspected that the panel behind where you sat indicated which target lamps were on. I merely proved that by switching on one of the lamps and waiting for a mistress to come running. Madame Lash arrived quickly, and since she was stationed in the dungeon, that was obviously where the indicator panel was located."

"Hmm. But that doesn't explain how you managed to win the remaining three games," I probe.

"That was a tactical mistake by the mistresses," smiles Tessa. "They were over-confident, and only checked the target lamps if the indicator panel was triggered. By disrupting the signal to the panel, we were able to switch on lamps without them being detected on the panel. When we were ready, the circuit was restored."

"But you, Jessica and Sandra were kept well away from the lamps during the last few games. The mistresses had at least three spies among the slaves. I still don't see how you won the games."

"Apart from my initial discovery about the sensor circuit, Jessica's, Sandra's and my roles were merely as decoys. Jessica knew other slaves who could be trusted, and it's they who did what they needed to do to win the games."

Although it would be inappropriate for me to say so, I admire Tessa's resourcefulness. I can at least report to Monique that the slaves achieved victory by manipulating the sensor circuits. Whether we fix the issue, or leave it as a deliberate loophole to be exploited, is a decision for another time.

I leave Tessa to her work and return to my desk. Although the next special event isn't for five weeks, Monique prefers to keep the tower in a state of readiness. The tower was originally intended to be used only for special events. Unfortunately, the wrangling with the regional authorities over projected water consumption is unresolved, and the refurbishment of the north and west side buildings remains stalled. That means the tower accommodation may be needed if we get a large block booking.

"Lady Kirsty has sent a message saying there were two unregistered guests waiting for the ferry, Madame," says Brooke as soon as I reach the office.

"Are they members or just stray tourists?" I ask.

"They have La Chatte Heureuse membership cards with them, Madame. But Lady Kirsty doesn't have any means of verifying them in our system."

I've known about this weakness in our verification process for a while. Normally Kirsty drives both the boat and the bus. Kirsty has the facilities in town to handle verification of visitors before boarding the bus. Unfortunately, with the special event creating many extra passengers, we contract with a local bus company to operate a shuttle service to the lake, while Kirsty runs back and forth with the boat. The local bus operator isn't as thorough as Kirsty in checking the credentials of the inbound passengers. The driver only checks those waiting carry La Chatte Heureuse membership cards.

We've had several instances of reporters and other unauthorised people trying to gain access to the island by subterfuge. The club's continued success depends on respecting members' privacy, and in keeping snooping eyes away.

"Has Kirsty sent you their details?"

"Yes, Madame. Mistress Melody and Slave Drippy. The addresses and contact numbers they gave match our records. I okayed Lady Kirsty to bring them to the island. They should be here in about ten minutes."

I know those two. I met them when I was new to the island. I helped Melody with some rope bondage. I don't think either of them are the sort who would turn up here out of the blue.

"I shall meet them on the jetty," I say as I make for the door. "Ask Monique to join me if she will. Tell her that we may have intruders."

I arrive at the jetty as the ferry is coming into view. I study the passengers on the boat as they get nearer. In addition to the two unidentified guests, we are expecting a mistress, three ladies and two slaves on this boat. Monique arrives as Kirsty throttles back the engine in readiness to dock. I quickly bring Monique up to speed, although it seems Brooke has already done so.

"How do you want to play this?" I ask Monique.

"Well, let's first verify they aren't who they say they are. Are you sure you can recognise them if they're genuine?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I reply.

I scan the passengers as they disembark. I recognise three of the visitors, but Melody and Drippy aren't among those disembarking.

"I'm not sure which two are the ones we are interested in, but they're not Melody and Drippy," I say to Monique.

"OK. Let's play along for now and get them in a side room as soon as possible. I'll do the welcome speech. You go and get the office slaves covered up. We'll assume these interlopers are fishing for dirt until we know otherwise."

We've rehearsed a plan should this sort of event happen, so everyone on the staff knows what to do. Helen escorts the two unknown visitors into a side room on the pretext of needing to process the booked visitors first, and then find suitable accommodation for the two of them. These two are much older than Melody and Drippy... probably in their mid-forties. Their hair styles and faces are similar enough to the photos on the membership cards to pass a cursory look. That's probably how they talked their way onto the bus. With a busy schedule today, the bus driver wouldn't have wanted to spend ages verifying their credentials.

"OK. We know you aren't Melody and Drippy," says Monique when she and I join Helen in the room. "So who are you, and what are you doing here? This is a private island, and you are trespassing."

The two women look at each other, and the fair haired one answers.

"I'm Wendy Driver, a private detective," says the woman, producing a business card. "This is my client, Fiona Smallwood. We're looking for Fiona's daughter, whom we believe to be here on this island and is being held against her will."

"Everybody on this island is an adult, and is here of her own free will," replies Monique. "Who is this daughter you seek and why do you believe she's being held against her will?"

"My daughter's name is Tessa. Tessa Smallwood," says Fiona. "She has long red hair. She won a competition, and accepted a six week stay on this island. There's no way she would have come here if she'd known the perverted things that go on here. If she's here, then I demand that you release her to me. Now."

"Nicole, please will you go and check our current guest list and see if we have someone here called Tessa Smallwood who fits the profile we've just been given," says Monique. "While you do that, Wendy and Fiona are going to explain to me how they have acquired the membership cards and details of two of our members."

I promptly leave the room to go to find Tessa and ask what she wants to do. Elise intercepts me as I pass through the office.

"Madame!" says Elise. "I've checked the records for Madame Melody and Slave Drippy. They reported their membership cards missing a couple of weeks ago. Nothing else was taken, so the police weren't notified."

"Good work, Elise. By any chance do they live near to where Slave Tessa lives?"

"I'll check, Madame."

I find Tessa finishing off cleaning the Sheik's Harem. She's obviously surprised to see me again so soon.

"A woman called Fiona, in the company of a private detective, has arrived on the island looking for you," I say. "She says that she is your mother. What do you wish to do?"

"Shit!! Oops, sorry, Madame," says Tessa. "I had hoped she'd leave me alone. I suppose she's demanding to rescue me from a fate worse than death."

"Something like that," I reply. "This is a private island and our members are entitled to privacy. Unfortunately, you aren't a club member, so we are in a tricky situation."

"If I can get her to leave peacefully, will I be allowed to stay, Madame?" asks Tessa.

"Yes, of course. We've reason to believe that they stole the membership cards they used to get here, and they are trespassing on a private island. We can evict them if we must, but an amicable arrangement would avoid any repercussions."

"Then I'll talk with her, Madame. May I leave my duties here?"

"Yes, come with me," I say.

As we pass through the office, Slave Elise lets me know that Melody and Drippy live in a neighbouring town to Tessa's family.

"Wait here until I call for you, Tessa," I say as we approach the room where our unwelcome guests are waiting.

I enter the room to an atmosphere you could cut with a knife. Monique looks ready to lock the pair of them in the dungeon, but has so far kept her temper in check.

"We have a guest by the name of Tessa Smallwood who is here on a six week holiday, won as a prize," I confirm for the sake of appearances. "If Mrs. Smallwood wishes to talk with her daughter, then I'm sure we can arrange that."

My carefully worded answer alerts Monique to the fact that Tessa has agreed to meet with her mother.

"Right!" says Monique. "If you'll stay here, Mrs. Smallwood, we'll send Tessa in. In the meantime, I would like to have a discussion in my office with Private Detective Driver about the theft of two La Chatte Heureuse membership cards."

Tessa refuse my offer of something to cover her breasts. She walks into the room where her mother awaits, dressed in a regular Slave caste outfit. They're in there for nearly an hour, and voices are raised on several occasions. However, peace finally settles on the scene and Fiona Smallwood agrees to leave in the morning with her pet detective. Tessa gets to stay for the remainder of her holiday. I've no idea what was said, and I've no interest in coming between mother and daughter. However, having seen Tessa in action, I'm not surprised that her mother is the one to give ground.

Fiona and Wendy are provided with rooms in the guest accommodation block, well away from the other activity going on around the island. The next morning, Kirsty makes a special run with the boat and bus to drop them off in the nearest town. How they get home from there is their own problem.