La Chatte Heureuse Pt. 09 Ch. 01-06

Part 9: The Three Jewels ------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.01 Amber: Arrival into Turmoil ------------------------------------------------- Amber

There are only six of us aboard the ferry as it arrives at the island on a chilly October Saturday morning. Even though it's the off-peak season, I had expected more club members to be arriving today. Perhaps more will be arriving tomorrow. The two older women travelling with the three of us have the aloof look of Mistresses, while the remaining passenger is younger. Her posture suggests she's like us, a member of the Slave caste.

"I'm Hazel," says the young woman about our age addressing a nervous looking Opal. "I'm a member of the Slave caste. Is this your first visit to the island?"

"Um ... Er ... Hi," replies Opal with a slight tremor in her voice. "I'm Opal. I've been once before. These are my friends Amber and Pearl ... or rather, those are our pseudonyms. We've recently switched from the Lady caste to the Slave caste, so this is a whole new experience for the three of us."

"Yeah, I think it's going to be strange for all of us," replies Hazel. "I gather we'll all be staying in the Tower while the refurbishment of the usual Slave caste quarters is underway. I hear that work is going to start on Monday. I've been here twice before, but I've never been inside the Tower. I'm told that it's creepy."

"Get a backbone, girl," says one of the older women. "If the Tower scares you, then you should have stayed away."

"It's the only time I can get two weeks leave from work before next Easter," replies Hazel defensively. "Besides, it does all sound like fun. Sleeping in a castle dungeon sounds a bit daring."

"The Slave caste dormitories in the Tower are next to the dungeon, not in it," tuts the older woman. "Still, we get shackled to our beds at night, so I guess it has the same feel."

"Oh! Does that mean you are a member of the Slave caste as well?" asks Hazel.

"It does. I go by the name Pansy. This is my mistress, Madame Wendy. I'm here as her Chattel Slave, if you know what that means."

Several things in the conversation alert me to how little I know about the experience Pearl, Opal and I have dared each other to endure. I don't recall reading about being shackled to the bed at night. Being a Chattel Slave is something I glossed over when I read the brochure. Beyond being a personal slave to a Mistress, I know nothing about what it involves. Still, we all accepted the challenge, so we had best make the most of it.

With only six passengers on the ferry, disembarking takes next to no time. Two slave caste women have soon loaded our luggage onto the trailer and are towing it with a small tractor up the driveway to the reception building. We follow behind on foot. I see two more Slave caste members tending the gardens. Like all members of the Slave caste, they are easily recognised by their exposed tits. That's something I'm now feeling slightly nervous about. It sounded okay when I read all the material we'd been sent, but now that we're here, it doesn't sound so thrilling ... particularly on a cold October morning.

"I think Opal is having second thoughts," whispers Pearl to me. "We might need to give her a prod."

I don't reveal that I'm also uncertain whether we've done right thing. However, there's no going back. We cannot simply revert to the Ladies caste at short notice. Apart from the accommodation block for the Lady caste being used exclusively by the contractors working on the refurbishment of building E4, the club rules forbid switching castes within six months of a previous switch. There are only Mistresses and Slaves on the island for the next four weeks while the work on E4 is carried out. We are scheduled to be here for first two of those weeks.

The club rules give members of the Mistress caste priority at the Reception desk. Madame Wendy and Pansy get to register first, and they are assigned their quarters. Madame Wendy expresses surprise that they aren't being assigned a shared suite in building E3.

"The noise from the work in E4 will be intrusive," replies Madame Nicole on reception in response to Madame Wendy's complaint. "With relatively few visitors on the island, we thought it better to house everyone in the Tower. You have a luxury suite assigned to you, but none of the Tower suites have accommodation for slaves. Pansy will need to sleep in a Slave caste dormitory on level 1."

"Why wasn't I informed of this before now," fumes Madame Wendy.

"All those affected were notified by email last Monday," replies Nicole calmly. "We weren't made aware of the noisy machinery being used in E4 until a week ago."

I suspect Madame Wendy is making a scene just for show, since Pansy clearly knew she would be sleeping in a Slave caste dormitory when she commented about us being shackled to our beds.

As a returning Slave caste visitor to the island, Hazel is called forward to register next. First time visitors undergo a combined registration and induction process when we check in, so we are made to wait until everyone else is registered. I observe Hazel checking in, and suddenly realise that the three of us haven't discussed which category of slave we wish to choose. Field slaves receive a bigger discount on the cost of their stay compared to House slaves, but as the name implies, it involves outside work ... that doesn't sound enticing with bare tits in October. The third category of slave is a Bondage slave. That's a special category for the most daring ... or the most perverted ... providing no discount on the cost of the stay, and potentially additional fees if a staff Mistress must be assigned to carry out the role as the slave's overseer. As the title suggests, a Bondage slave spends a lot of time in the dungeon, or locked in restraints. It doesn't even get you out of doing the chores that Field and House slaves perform as long as the task can be done while wearing shackles.

"Three of us and three categories," I say to Pearl and Opal. "If we combine the cost of our stay and pay one third each, then none of us will be disadvantaged. What do you say?"

"I can't manage the Bondage category," says Opal. "I'm nervous enough as it is without going that far."

"What do you say, Pearl?" I ask.

"I'm game. How about we let Opal select the House slave category, and you and I toss for the Field and Bondage categories."

A simple coin toss later assigns Pearl to the Field slave category and me as a Bondage slave. Only then do I appreciate the recklessness of my proposal. However, we all agreed to the challenge, and there's no point in doing it with half-measures.

Even with the additional induction steps included with the first-timers' registration process, the whole procedure is done with remarkable efficiency. We are given necklaces with our slave names displayed in white letters. Our palm prints are registered into computer system so we can unlock the doors we are allowed to enter. Since none of us possess our own slave outfit, the club loans us appropriate costumes. I soon overcome my embarrassment at flashing my tits, particularly as Opal seems to have no problem displaying hers despite her earlier nervousness. However, she's something of a dark horse when it comes to her personality. Outwardly she is quiet and reserved, but I detect a hint of a simmering volcano underneath that façade.

We place our regular clothes, along with items such as our phones, wallets and jewellery, into the personal locker we are assigned. My locker door requires two people to open it, myself and a staff member belonging to the Mistress caste. Like every other visiting member, my real life is now locked away for the duration of my stay.

The only hiccup to our registration is my request to be categorised as a Bondage slave. Apparently it is customary to provide notification of that preference when booking so that the availability of a suitable mistress can be determined. It isn't simply a matter of assigning any willing mistress. There needs to be a degree of compatibility in the temperaments of both mistress and slave. Not all mistresses are the same, and what can be a pleasant erotic experience for a compatible pair, can be a fortnight in Hell if the pair are ill-suited to each other.

Fortunately La Chatte Heureuse conducts personality profiles as part of its membership vetting procedures. It isn't a foolproof process, but in situations like this, it helps to provisionally match a slave and mistress. Even if our personalities match, the matched mistress needs to agree to be my overseer.

"Go and settle in and I'll let you know when we are able to assign a mistress to you," says Madame Nicole to me.

I don't realise how big the Tower is until I'm standing right under it.

The stone walls rise straight up like something out of a Gothic novel, square and heavy and absolutely unapologetic about it. The dry moat around the base makes it feel even taller, like the whole building is lifted out of reach. Pearl stops beside me, staring upward with that quiet, calculating look she gets when she's trying to understand something complicated. Opal stays close to her, clutching her bag like it might run away.

We enter the Tower's north wing annex which bridges the moat. It's the main entrance to the Tower. The moment we step inside, the sound changes. Everything echoes, even the rustle of my jacket. It's not loud, just noticeably present.

The annex bridge brings us into the foyer on Level 2 of the Tower. It's all stone floors and high ceilings. In the middle of the foyer is the huge central atrium that extends to the glass roof twenty metres above us.

Pearl nudges me when she notices that I'm gawking like a tourist. I pretend I that wasn't. We head down the well sign-posted stairs to Level 1. The atmosphere shifts again. The echo is still there, but softer. The corridor at the bottom smells faintly of laundry detergent and something like lemon cleaner. A pair of Slave caste members pass us carrying towels and bathroom cleaning materials. They look busy, and a little weary. They briefly acknowledge our presence with a smile.

The stout wooden dormitory door is open, and we step inside. I feel my breath catch. It's not fancy, two rows, each with eight single bunks with small lockers to the side of each bed. There's a narrow slit window on the far wall, that lets in a minimal amount of daylight. Artificial lighting is provided by a row of wall lights along the stone walls. It's not a gloomy dungeon, but it has the atmosphere of one. Despite the setting, the room is clean and well maintained. Pansy and Hazel are already unpacking their things into their personal locker. Unlike the lockers in the administration building, which need a mistress to open them, these can be locked and opened with the palm print of the assigned occupant of the bed.

"Welcome to T1A," says Pansy, referring to the method of identifying rooms around the resort ... room A on level 1 of the Tower.

Pearl exhales slowly, like she's finally letting herself relax. Opal edges closer to her bed, shoulders tight, eyes wide. Me? I feel something spark in my chest. Nerves? Certainly. But also excitement.

This place is intense and strange, and way more real than anything I imagined when we joked about switching to Slave caste membership. It's something I want to prove to myself that I can handle. I drop my bag on the bed assigned to me and look around again.

Welcome to Slave caste life, Amber.

------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.02: Pearl: Put to Work -------------------------------------------------

Pearl

We're given half an hour to settle into our dormitory. That gives us time for a quick exploration of the facilities on level 1. Even though Opal, Pansy and Hazel have visited the island before, none of them is familiar with the layout of level 1 of the Tower. Nearly all the beds show signs of being in use, so their occupants must be busy elsewhere in the complex.

Dormitory B is next door, and identical in layout to our own room. Beyond that is the open plan dining area and communal kitchen, with larder, refrigerator and storage facilities beyond. A second staircase to the upper levels is marked as an emergency exit only. Our communal bathroom is on the opposite side of the corridor to the two dormitories. Privacy while showering or using the toilet is going to be negligible. The half screens between the door-less toilets is as good as it gets.

The most intimidating room is further down the corridor, beyond the north end stairs. Pansy says that it's a fully equipped dungeon, with all sorts of equipment that even my fanciful imagination struggles to comprehend. Unfortunately ... or perhaps fortunately ... we cannot access it without a mistress unlocking the door.

"Hmm. Well you wanted to be a bondage slave," I chortle to Amber.

"Yeah. The place look medieval," says Amber.

"I think you'll be finding out what's in there soon enough," I say. "Perhaps you should hope the club can't find you a mistress so that you'll need to pick another category."

"Ah! It doesn't work like that," says Pansy. "If no suitable visiting members are willing to be your overseer, then one of the staff mistresses will do the job. That's likely to be Madame Rebecca or Madame Nicole."

"Are they the only two staff mistresses?" asks Opal.

"No, there are others, but they are the only two experienced at bondage games," replies Pansy. "Madame Nicole is proficient at rope bondage, and Madame Rebecca is handy with a whip. If either of them is your overseer, then you can expect an intense experience. If you are uncertain about your choice, it's best to say so soon."

Having explored all the accessible rooms on this level, we return to our dormitory where we find a young Slave caste woman holding a clipboard waiting for us.

"I'm Tessa," says the young woman. "I'm responsible for assigning your duties here on level 1. Madame Rebecca will assign your work schedule elsewhere."

"Why do we have two sets of work duties?" I ask.

"The duties Madame Rebecca assigns you will count towards the twenty hours of labour per week you must complete to qualify for the discount on the cost of your stay. The roster I manage covers the day to day servicing of your own living area. That includes cooking and cleaning the rooms on level 1. Time spent doing those tasks doesn't count towards your twenty hours of work. The roster showing your turn at cooking or cleaning will be posted on the kitchen notice board. Check it regularly as I sometimes need to make changes to accommodate other activities."

"Where is everybody?" asks Amber.

"Mistresses will probably be in their suites or in the Recreation building E5. You will have seen some of the Slave caste members working on their assigned tasks when you arrived. There's a work party of six preparing E2 and E4 for the arrival of the contractors who will be refurbishing E4. With your arrival, we have twenty-six Slave caste members, and fifteen Mistresses staying on the island. That stretches our available Slave caste accommodation in here to near capacity."

Amber, Opal and I look at each other as though seeking reassurance we have done the right thing in coming here as slaves.

"I suggest you get something to eat before Madame Rebecca assigns you to your afternoon duties," says Tessa.

"I must check in with Madame Wendy," says Pansy. "I'm her Chattel slave ... or Tabby cat if that's the phrase I'm supposed to use these days."

"On the island, you can use the term Chattel slave," replies Tessa. "The 'cat' nomenclature is only required when you are off the island, or conducting official business."

"Okay. So do I need an escort to get to suite T4D?" asks Pansy.

"As a Chattel slave your palm print should give you access to your mistress's suite. However, you'll need to use the stairs to get to level 4. The elevator won't work without a mistress escorting you."

"I'm registered as a Field slave," I say. "Am I expected to work in this cold weather with my tits exposed?"

"Not all Field slave work is outdoors," says Tessa. "The label is a misnomer. Outside work is only scheduled if the weather is suitable, but it would need to be colder than this to halt outside work. You have the option of switching to a House slave if you feel the need. Anyway, once the contractors arrive on the island, you'll be wearing orange overalls for any outside work. The club has a different dress code in open areas while contractors are working on the island."

"Don't you dare switch," whispers Amber in my ear. "We had a deal."

Our conversation is interrupted by the arrival of a smartly dressed woman in black leather gear. The name spelt on her necklace identifies her Rebecca.

"Right, let's get you organised," the new arrival says. "I'm Madame Rebecca, and I'm responsible for organising your work duties. If you have any problems, then come and see me. Reception will know where I am if I'm not in the office. With most of the East block closed, chances are I'll be here in the Tower or in the Administration building, E1.

"The afternoon work duties start at two o'clock, so you've just over an hour to grab something to eat and settle in. House and Field slaves should report to the White Cat Common Room in the Administration building by two o'clock. Hazel, Pearl, you're registered as Field slaves, so you'll be part of the afternoon work party preparing E4 for the refurbishment work. Opal, you're a House slave, so you'll be in the group cleaning the bathrooms and kitchens on levels three, four and five of the Tower. Pansy, you should report to Madame Wendy as soon as you've eaten. Amber ... hmmm ... you're a Bondage slave, so wait outside the dungeon down the corridor in twenty minutes."

Madame Rebecca leaves immediately with Tessa in tow. It's only after she's gone that questions flood into my mind.

"Um. How do we tell the time without our phones or watches?" I ask.

"There's a clock in every kitchen," says Hazel. "And I noticed one in the Tower's entrance foyer upstairs."

We all troop down to the kitchen looking for something to eat. Sure enough there's a clock on the wall, and plenty of bread and fresh food in the larder.

"Lunches are help yourself affairs," says Hazel. "Some of us will have been assigned to prepare an evening meal for us all."

Hazel points to the roster that Tessa mentioned, pinned on the notice board. Five members of the Slave caste are shown as being on kitchen duty later on. I check for my own name, and see that I'm scheduled to make breakfast tomorrow at ... six o'clock!! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at the early start. We opted to join the Slave caste, so perhaps we shouldn't expect an easy life.

Amber leaves us for the dungeon after eating a quick snack and using the restroom. Pansy has already left us, although several others of the Slave caste join us for a meal. A few introduce themselves, but to be honest, I'm so nervous, that their names don't register. Fortunately our necklaces display our names, so memorising names isn't essential.

By the time two o'clock nears, there are twenty of us in the kitchen and communal dining area. It's crowded, but not claustrophobic. The dormitories house up to thirty two of us, so the kitchen and dining area are obviously designed to cater for that many.

"Okay, Sklavin, those of us on afternoon duties had best make our way over to the Administration building," says a young Slave caste woman whose necklace identifies her as Melissa.

Eight of the women hang back when the rest of us depart for the Administration building.

"Isn't everyone working this afternoon?" I ask Hazel.

"No," she replies. "We only need to do twenty hours of work a week. Work duties are usually nine 'til one, and two 'til six each day, so you are only assigned to work five sessions out of fourteen each week. With the refurbishment work due to start on Monday, Madame Rebecca will have added more of us to today's and tomorrow's schedules. The midweek sessions should be much lighter, probably only restocking the larders and the Mistress suite cooking and cleaning."

"So not much outside work," I sigh, relieved at the prospect.

"Probably not, but there will be some," laughs Hazel. "Someone needs to transport the luggage and supplies from the ferry."

We assemble in the room in E1 that a small sign labels as the Slave Holding Area, but is now officially referred to as the White Cat Common Room. There are fourteen of us assembled in the room when two o'clock arrives and Madame Nicole enters. She wastes no time in getting us to work.

"Slave Molly, you are in charge of the work group cleaning Tower levels three, four and five. Here's your list of duties. You have Holly, Opal and Rita assisting you. Gather your team and get to work. Alert Madame Rebecca or me if any of your team get 'hired' by a Mistress while you are doing your work."

I briefly recall the rules around 'hiring'. It's a privilege that Mistress caste members jealously guard. It gives them the right to purloin the services of a Slave caste member for up to one hour. It's something a slave wishes to avoid while working, since the hour spent serving a Mistress doesn't count toward her twenty hours of weekly work.

"Slave Xara, you're in charge of the gardening work group. Report to Mistress Beth for your exact duties. She'll be working somewhere near the tool-shed waiting for you. Jess, Mallory and Sharon; you're with Xara. Off you go."

That leaves six of us who are apparently to prepare building E4 for the refurbishment work. I'm waiting for Madame Nicole to send us on our way, when Madame Rebecca enters with Amber shuffling behind her. Amber has her wrists and ankles in shackles. She is holding her leg chain as high as she is able to avoid it dragging along the floor. She has a ball gag fastened around her mouth, limiting her ability to speak.

"Slave Melissa, your work party is complete. The rest of you follow Melissa to E4. She'll assign you to your duties."

I cannot begin to express how fortunate I feel that the coin toss went in my favour and I'm not the Bondage slave. It's hard enough wandering around with your tits exposed for all to see, without the indignity of shackles and a gag. Still, I admire Amber's fortitude in enduring the experience. She nods in acknowledgement of my obvious concern, and I detect her quiet determination to continue.

Melissa leads us across the driveway to the entrance of building E4. Temporary screening already surrounds most of E4, leaving the entrance and part of the wall open. Melissa unlocks the door and we file inside.

"We'll split into two groups," says Melissa. "Group one ... that's Daz, Pearl, Trish, and Riley ... will remove the remaining items of furniture and place them is rooms E3A and E3B next door. Use your brains and don't try lifting anything too heavy for you. The contractors will move anything really heavy, or simply work around it. Stack the items as neatly as possible. The doors should already be unlocked. Group two ... that me, Amber and Felicity will be removing the last of the dungeon equipment and taking it to the Tower dungeon. If you have any problems, come and find me."

It all sounds simple enough, even if it's heavy manual labour. Nobody has questions so we all set to work.

------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.03: Melissa: Mistress Duties -------------------------------------------------

Melissa

With less than forty-eight hours to go before the contractors arrive, I'm starting to feel as though things are coming together. The last of the furniture and dungeon equipment should be moved by the end of today, leaving all of tomorrow to do a final check. Kirsty has the transportation under control. No member departures or arrivals are scheduled for Monday, so the contractors have exclusive use of the ferry for their equipment and staff. The barge has already be relocated to the jetty near the dam, ready to move the heavier equipment and materials.

Not everything has been plain sailing. I only belatedly thought to ask about the amount of noise the work would generate, and we made a late decision about closing E3 as well as E4. While the continued unavailability of the Northern block of accommodation is frustrating, it's perhaps a blessing in disguise. We're going to have enough difficulty keeping the forty or so members on the island away from the work as it is.

Moving the dungeon equipment would be easier if Amber wasn't wearing shackles, but she chose to be in the Bondage slave category, so the club must play its part. That means I must place her in my work party, since I'm her temporary overseer until Madame Rebecca can find someone suitable for the task. Hopefully one of the visiting mistresses will accept the role. The staff mistresses don't have the time with so many staff taking leave during the quiet part of the year. Most of us have been working extended hours with minimal breaks since the club re-opened. That's created a backlog of leave we are only now tackling in earnest.

"What's this piece of equipment for, Madame Melissa?" asks Amber.

Madame Rebecca will have instructed Amber to address her overseer as 'Madame' so I don't correct Amber in addressing another member of the Slave caste as such. The title feels strange to me, but not entirely unpleasant. Madame Chloe and Madame April have both been pressing me to switch to the Mistress caste but I've steadfastly refused. I just don't think I'm Mistress caste material. Besides, I actually enjoy the Slave caste lifestyle.

"That's a Sybian," I reply. "It can be used to give pleasure as a reward, or torment a victim mercilessly."

"Is using it part of the Bondage slave routine?" asks Amber.

"There's no set routine for a Bondage slave," I reply. "What happens to you depends on your overseer and your own fetishes. La Chatte Heureuse doesn't tolerate torture or cruel treatment, but everyone has different boundaries. What happens to you over the next fortnight is up to you as much as your overseer."

"Yeah, that's what Madame Rebecca explained. How long do I have to wear these shackles?"

"As long as your overseer thinks they are necessary. If you keep failing to address your overseer as 'Madame' then the shackles are likely to remain."

"Oh! Sorry, Madame," says Amber, with almost convincing regret.

We press on with moving the dungeon equipment from the E4 basement. First we stack the items in a room on the floor above, before starting to move them to the Tower dungeon. I was hoping to get additional help from one or two of the others in the group moving furniture into E3, but they aren't making as much progress as I hoped. Perhaps I need to supervise their work more closely.

"You need to work faster if you expect me to sign off your work as satisfactory," I say to the other group. "You won't earn the full discount on the cost of your stay if your work is below a satisfactory standard."

It's a threat that isn't entirely genuine. Frequent complaints about some Slave caste members slacking while others work hard has prompted me to propose a change along the lines I threatened. But Madame April and Madame Chloe are still considering the idea. In this case, my threat seems to do the trick. By the time we've brought all the dungeon equipment upstairs, I'm able to reassign Pearl to help us move the equipment over to the Tower dungeon.

We finish today's tasks by five-thirty, enabling me to release those assigned to my work group half an hour early. That leaves me with the problem of what to do about Amber. I escort her back to the Tower dungeon, and her friend Pearl offers to stay with her while I locate Madame Rebecca to see if an overseer for Amber has been found.

I find Madame Rebecca settling a dispute between two members of the Mistress caste. I wait patiently while the issue is resolved, and I marvel at Madame Rebecca's ability to mediate without losing her temper. The argument between the two Mistresses reminds me of six-year-olds throwing tantrums.

"I haven't been able to find a suitable Mistress to oversee Amber," says Madame Rebecca. "There are only fifteen Mistresses here at the moment, and none are a good fit for Amber's age and personality. Ironically, the person on the island with the closest age and personality match to Amber is you."

I recall the personality matching process used by La Chatte Heureuse. It seems too simple a system, but it has a high success rate in matching compatible Mistress-Slave pairs when the need arises.

"Yeah, well I'm not a Mistress, Madame," I reply. "So what are we to do?"

"I don't really have the time myself, and Nicole is even busier," replies Madame Rebecca. "The other staff mistresses don't have the experience, so we are stuck with having to rotate the overseeing duties as best we can. It's far from a satisfactory solution."

"I don't have the experience either, Madame," I reply, sensing that Madame Rebecca is adding her weight to those trying to get me to switch to the Mistress caste.

"You aren't entirely without relevant experience, albeit from the other side of the Mistress-Slave relationship. Don't under-estimate the value of what you've experienced while you've been here. You managed alright this afternoon, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that was hardly the same as running a one-on-one session in the dungeon, Madame."

"True, but you know how to read the warning signs of too much or too little in a person's reactions. I've seen how you handle the likes of Faye, Bernice and Natasha. Handling a slave like Amber should be child's play after dealing with that trio."

"How do you expect me to project manage the refurbishment of E4 at the same time, Madame. And then there's the preparations for Madame Bernice's special event next month."

"Hah! Such is the life of a La Chatte Heureuse staff mistress," laughs Madame Rebecca. "At least think about taking on being Amber's overseer. I'm sure Chloe will allow you to dress the part for a couple of weeks. Who knows, you may even like the role. Besides, it will mean you can deal with the contractors without having to put on those bright orange overalls to cover your tits. Those overalls make you look like a convict doing community work."

To be honest, I feel the same way about the orange overalls. It's one of the low priority changes I intend to make once I become owner of the resort. Although I barely know Amber, she seems enthusiastic enough, and I can't fault her work ethic this afternoon, despite her shackles. Perhaps I should step up to the challenge, at least for a couple of weeks.

"Okay, I'll do it, Madame," I say. "Providing Madame Chloe approves."

"Excellent. We both know Chloe has been pushing you to change castes, so I think her approval is a formality. You go and talk with Chloe, while I get Amber organised."

I join Chloe in the staff dining area on the upper level of the Administration building. Several other members of staff are gathering for the evening meal.

"Can we talk in private for a moment, Madame," I say to Chloe.

Until now I've never had difficulty in addressing the love of my life as a slave would talk to her mistress. Now it strikes me as incongruous with our pending marriage. Perhaps I should have realised this earlier and appreciated Chloe's unease at the difference in our status at work.

We find a quiet corner and share a kiss before settling into a couple of chairs. Other staff members are coming and going in the background, but they studiously ignore us.

"One of today's arrivals has registered as a Bondage slave, Madame," I begin.

"Yes. Amber. Rebecca came to talk with me earlier about finding an overseer for her. She wasn't having much luck."

"Hmm. Amber was assigned to my work party in E4 this afternoon, Madame. I was her temporary overseer. Rebecca has suggested I take on the full overseer role for the fortnight of Amber's stay."

"Yes, Rebecca mentioned it to me. However, to do that you'll need to switch castes. Are you willing to do that?"

"I am ... at least for the next fortnight. And only if you approve, Madame."

"Yes, I approve wholeheartedly. We shall put the change into effect immediately. Let's find Nicole and register the change and get you into the appropriate clothing."

The speed at which Chloe is putting my request into effect makes me wonder if I've been set up. Rebecca assigned Amber to my work group this afternoon, and I've only her word that no other Mistresses are suitable to be Amber's overseer. Still, I can't deny that Amber's reaction to me is favourable, so perhaps it isn't all a conspiracy to get me to change castes.

Madame Nicole has arrived in the staff dining area while Chloe and I were talking. As the meal won't be ready for another fifteen minutes, she agrees to come downstairs and put my change of caste into effect. Apart from a straightforward update to my club membership file, my access to the various doors and gates around the island is upgraded to Black cat level. Fixing black lettering to replace the white lettering on my necklace takes a few minutes. Selecting new clothing will need to wait until the morning, but for now I'm given a plain black leather dress in my size. It feels strange wearing a top that covers my tits, but it's less troublesome than wearing the thick orange overalls I'd need to wear when dealing with the contractors.

Chloe accompanies me back to the staff dining area where she announces my change of caste. Remarkably few of those present seemed particularly surprised beyond the timing of my choice. Madame Rebecca ... no, I must refer to her simply as Rebecca from here on ... comes to my rescue.

"Melissa has agreed to be the overseer of our new Bondage slave, Amber," says Rebecca. "To do that, she's finally agreed to change to the Mistress caste."

"For the next two weeks," I add.

"Ah! But club rules don't allow you to change castes more than once every six months," says Helen.

I hadn't exactly overlooked that rule, but I assumed that as pending owner of the Greenway House Partnership, I could waive the limitation. However, Helen has emphasised that it is a La Chatte Heureuse rule, and not one imposed by the GHP, who are only a large shareholder in La Chatte Heureuse club. I cannot override a club rule without the consent of the club members. Still, that won't stop me trying if things don't work out.

"I've left Amber bound to an X-frame in the dungeon," says Rebecca to me. "Pearl is bound next to her after she objected to me confining Amber. Tessa is keeping an eye on the pair of them, but you might want to pay them a visit after our meal."

"Yes, I'll do that. Is Pearl going to be a problem?" I ask.

"I don't think so," says Rebecca. "She just needed a reminder that she's a member of the Slave caste. Apparently she, Amber and Opal are friends, so they can be expected to look out for each other."

------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.04 Amber: An Evening in the Dungeon -------------------------------------------------

Amber

Pearl and I are left alone in the dungeon. I'm spread-eagled against an X-frame, facing outwards. The leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles are the only items covering my naked body. It's embarrassing and humiliating, and yet strangely exciting. I chose to be a Bondage Slave for the next two weeks, and I'm already beginning to understand the consequences of my choice.

Pearl is also bound to a frame, although she is fully dressed ... if you can count her exposed tits as being fully dressed. Since all those of the Slave caste must leave their tits exposed, her indecent costume qualifies as fully dressed. She's struggling against the leather cuffs that attach her wrists to either end of the crossbar of the T-frame. Her ankles are unbound, although that doesn't help her do more than fidget.

"Are you okay, Pearl?" I ask.

"Yeah. It's just I'm getting hungry and the evening meal will be over soon. I don't know how we are going to manage. Rebecca hasn't returned since she bound us to these frames, and Tessa doesn't have the authority to release us ... or so she says."

"That's Madame Rebecca to you," says the new arrival. "And Tessa was telling the truth. She's a member of the Slave caste, so she has no authority to release you from the dungeon."

I do a double take when I recognise the new arrival. It's Melissa. Only now she is wearing a black leather outfit used exclusively by members of the Mistress caste, whereas this afternoon she was dressed as a slave.

"Melissa?" I query, in case she has a twin.

"You address me as Madame Melissa from here on, Slave Amber," she replies. "You two are really going to need to practise your club etiquette."

"Sorry, Madame Melissa," I reply. "It's just that you were dressed as a member of the Slave caste this afternoon."

"Hmmm. Yes. And my transformation is entirely your fault," she replies. "I'm going to be your overseer for the next two weeks, and to do that I had to change castes."

"I didn't think that was possible at short notice," I reply. "... Madame."

"Not normally, no. But there are extenuating circumstances, so here I am ... and there you are. You and I are going to become intimately acquainted over the next two weeks. I hope you are mentally prepared."

Madame Melissa unfastens Pearl's wrists from the T-frame and sends her on her way for a belated evening meal, and a chance to relax before bed. I mull over Madame Melissa's words. What does she mean about becoming intimately acquainted? I realise I should have given much more thought to my choice of being a Bondage Slave.

Once free of her restraints, Pearl looks at me with concern. I flick my head, indicating that she should go and let me manage my own fate. I recall that I have a safe word to end whatever I'm experiencing should it all get to be too much.

I was half expecting Madame Melissa to release me, but she doesn't do so. Instead she selects a leather crop from a collection of punishment instruments laid out neatly along a table. She brushes the end of the crop against my thighs before drawing it upwards between my legs, across my belly and ending by circling my nipples. The effect on me is electric.

"Why did you choose to be a Bondage Slave, Amber?" asks Madame Melissa. "Two weeks ago you were a member of the Lady caste. You've not only changed castes, but selected the most extreme of the Slave caste groups."

"I've been curious about the Slave caste for some time. Pearl, Opal and I challenged each other to come here and spend a fortnight as slaves. Selecting the Bondage Slave category was my own idea."

Madame Melissa continues to run the crop over my exposed body, focussing on my tits. My body leans into the strokes only to stop suddenly when a firm slap from the crop lands on my left tit.

"What have you forgotten already, Slave Amber," says Madame Melissa firmly.

"Um ... err ... forgotten? ... Ouch! ... Ouch!," I gasp. "Madame! I'm sorry, I forgot to add Madame when I spoke."

"Indeed. You must do better, Amber, or you'll end up with a very sore pair of tits and a rosy red arse."

"Sorry, Madame. I promise I'll do better."

"We'll see, Now lets start to get to know each other."

I've no idea what to expect now. Although Pearl was foolish to antagonise Madame Rebecca is the way she did, Pearl's presence here in the dungeon gave me some comfort. Now I'm at the mercy of someone I've only just met this afternoon. Someone who doesn't seem pleased that she's been selected as my overseer for the next two weeks. Do I have the right to request someone else? Is there anybody else currently on the island who can take up the role? Somehow, asking for Madame Rebecca to by my overseer doesn't strike me as a smart move.

"In six months time, when you look back on your experiences as a Bondage Slave, what do you want to feel?" asks Madame Melissa.

"Feel, Madame?? What do you mean?"

"It's a simple enough question, Amber. Are the next two weeks going to be something that you will tick off your Bucket List, but then forget the details? Or will remembering this time trigger memories that will ... what? ... Please you? Disgust you? Arouse you?"

"Is anything like that possible?" I reply.

"Ouch! ... Madame," I belatedly add.

"Yes, the experience can be as intense as you allow it to be," replies Madame Melissa. "It can leave you in a state that remembering a favourite session will make your nipples go hard and your pussy wet. I can see a look of scepticism on your face."

"I'm not sure I can ever be driven into a state where I loose control of myself, Madame."

"Then we shall test that interesting theory. You must be hungry by now. How about I let you try out one of the other pieces of equipment while I fetch you a plate of food from the kitchen?"

"Yes. Thank you, Madame," I reply, grateful for both the gesture and my weakening efforts to stop my stomach from rumbling.

Madame Melissa brings over a low trestle with a device fastened to the top. She slides the trestle between my spread legs, and adjusts the height until the rubbery top of the device is lightly touching my pussy.

"Do you remember what this device is called?" asks Madame Melissa.

"A ... umm ... Sybillan, Madame."

"Not quite. It's a Sybian. Do you want to guess what it does?"

"I don't know, Madame. Does it measure the wetness of my pussy?"

"I suppose there might be versions that can do that, although I don't know what purpose it would serve. I'll let you find out for yourself while I get you something to eat."

Madame Melissa switches on the device. She has barely left the dungeon before the purpose of the Sybian becomes all to obvious to me. It takes all of five seconds of its wicked vibrations to arouse me into a state where I'm in danger of embarrassing myself. The heavenly sensations rippling between my thighs are made ten times more powerful when I ease my clit onto one of the pulsing nubs. I could ease myself upwards to create a space between my body and the nubs, although it means resting more of my body weight on my arms. Fortunately I'm relatively fit, so heaving myself clear shouldn't be a problem. However, I delay doing so, eager for a little more of the divine sensation that is driving me wild.

With minimal warning, by body starts jerking with involuntary movements as I peak into a powerful orgasm. I momentarily feel horrified and ashamed, but I'm alone, so I soon overcome that sensation. By rights I should cease surrendering myself to the Sybian's power over me. But I don't. I'm guilty of easing myself into a position where the now wet nubs can arouse me all over again.

Madame Melissa returns ten minutes later with a tray of food. She sees me squirming on the Sybian, and the disgraceful puddle of cum on the floor. I should be ashamed of my wantonness, but I'm past caring.

"I'll switch that off so you can eat," says Madame Melissa.

"Just a little bit longer, Madame. Please!"

It's several minutes and three orgasms later before Madame Melissa finally switches the Sybian off and removes it out of the way. My meal is now only lukewarm, but my mind is too busy bouncing around in the stratosphere to care. Madame Melissa releases me from the X-frame so that I can eat.

"Well, that was an interesting experiment," says Madame Melissa as I eat my meal. "For someone who pretends to be in control of her body, that was a very poor effort."

"I'm sorry, Madame. I just couldn't help my reaction to the vibrations."

"Few people can, although you seem more wanton than many."

"Do I get to ride the Sybian again, Madame?" I ask hopefully.

"Not tonight. Finish your meal and then you may join the others until lock up. I will see you after breakfast in the morning. Report to the Common Room by eight-thirty in the morning.

"May I ask you a question, Madame?" I ask.

"You can ask, but I don't promise to reply," says Madame Melissa.

"You asked me what I wish to feel in the future about my experiences over the next two weeks, Madame. I've only recently transferred to the Slave caste, so this is all new to me. I just wondered how you feel about your most intense moments as a member of the Slave caste."

"I discovered the thrill of submitting to a mistress by accident, and the more intense the situation, the more rewarding the result. I don't see much point in being a member of the Slave caste unless the lifestyle sexually arouses you. If I was in your situation I would aim for an experience that, when you look back, makes you so wet that you are willing to hump a cushion just to relieve the tension."

"I'm not sure I can ever get that carried away, Madame," I confess.

"Don't be so sure. You had no difficulty in letting go of your inhibitions with the Sybian."

"That was in private ... or at least between the two of us, Madame. Anything more public, and I'm sure I'll simply freeze."

"Then that is something we need to discuss. I need to understand your boundaries, and what does or doesn't arouse you. Some women enjoy the exhibitionism of being watched as they are punished or humiliated. Others like being made to work hard, or be tightly restrained. There are many directions we can take, but you need to guide me in the right direction. We will both have wasted our time together if you don't enjoy the experience."

"That's a problem for me, Madame. I'm simply too new at this game to know what I really like or dislike. Can we do this by trial and error?"

"We can, although that may mean making several false starts," replies Madame Melissa. "Let me ask you a few questions so that I can consider a plan for tomorrow. Do you suffer from claustrophobia? If you were locked in the cell over there for three hours, would you freak out or handle it with ease?"

"I'm not normally claustrophobic, Madame, but I'm not sure three hours alone in a small cell will be something I can handle. As I said, I've never done anything like this before."

"That's understandable. What about restraints. How did you feel about wearing the shackles you wore this afternoon while you worked?"

"Once I got over the embarrassment, I was okay with the shackles, Madame. They weren't easy to manage, but I guess that's the point of them. It wasn't as though I was likely to run away."

Madame Melissa asks a few more questions before telling me to join the others and enjoy the remainder of the evening. Even as a Bondage Slave I'm allowed two hours of free time to myself each day.

------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.05: Pearl: Making Friends -------------------------------------------------

Pearl

After my release from the dungeon, I quickly join Opal, who has been concerned by my absence from the evening meal. I reassure her that I'm okay, and explain the reason for my unscheduled detention in the dungeon. I'm not sure that she is as concerned for Amber as she clearly has been for me.

"We have nearly two hours of free time before bedtime," I say to Opal. "What should we do?"

Despite the twenty hours of club work we are expected to complete each week, and the random risk of being 'hired' by a member of the Mistress caste, we have a substantial amount of free time to ourselves. The Recreation Building, E5 is open as usual, as are the stables and grounds. Two of the rooms on level 2 of the Tower have also been made available for casual use by those unwilling to make the short walk to E5.

"I was talking to a couple of White Cats earlier," replies Opal. "They've booked one of the larger rooms in E5 for what they called a 'Social'. Apparently it's an open invitation. Shall we go?"

While White Cats is the official designation of our club status, everyone happily refers to us by the original name of Slave caste. I'm unsure whether Opal's reference to White Cats is her tendency to tow the official line, or if she is uncomfortable being referred to as a slave. I guess we'll find out as our stay progresses.

"Yeah, sure," I reply. "We can go now if you're ready."

We find the group in room E5G which is a room decorated like a harem. Or at least, what I imagine the interior of a harem looks like, since I've never been inside a real one. There are five other women in the room. Since they are all naked, it isn't easy to determine their caste without checking the colour of the name lettering on their necklaces.

"Hi, I'm Nora. Come and join us," calls a woman when she sees us ... Madame Nora when I notice the black lettering on her necklace. "Dump your clothes by the door and come over here."

I wasn't prepared for such a sudden leap into sexual activity, but I'm not going to back out now. Opal looks as though she's ready to turn around and bolt, so I stand between her and the door.

"You suggested coming, so play your part," I say to Opal. "Besides, it could be fun to do something we don't normally get the chance to do."

Opal relents, and strips off her clothes. Since we already wander around with our tits exposed, the effect of suddenly being naked in front of strangers isn't quite as traumatic as it might otherwise have been. There's a brief introduction to the other four participants in what can only be described as a pending orgy. There's Madame Claire, Madame Elspeth, Slave Belinda and Slave Twenty. However, for the purposes of tonight, the caste labels are politely overlooked.

Perhaps my earlier session in the dungeon has left me feeling hornier than usual, but I soon succumb to the blatant attempts to fuck me by whatever means available. I briefly worry that Opal will freak out, but it seems that once her initial hesitance is overcome, she down for anything that's on offer.

For whatever reason, battery powered devices are absent from the room, but there's a huge collection of latex and metal sex toys. These get put to good use and before long I've latex cocks in both my cunt and arse and my wrists are handcuffed to Belinda and Twenty on either side of me. Opal is busy with Madame Nora, and the pair of them are wrapped in a 69 position, eating each other's pussies like they've discovered precious nectar. Madame Elspeth is frigging herself like crazy as Madame Claire teases the three slaves lined up side by side in front of her.

I don't bother counting the number of orgasms I achieve over the next hour or so. I suspect Belinda and Twenty have had sessions with Madame Claire before. Whenever Madame Claire is busy bringing Belinda to another orgasm, Twenty is busy doing the same to me. Likewise, Belinda does the same when Twenty is the focus of Madame Claire's attentions. With both my wrists shackled to the other two slaves, my ability to reciprocate is limited.

All too soon the ten minute warning bell for lock-up sounds, and we must end our games and return to the Tower. We dress ourselves and place the used toys into the basket provided for that purpose, and make a half-hearted attempt at tidying the room. Belinda says that the room and toys will be restored to its original condition by the work party assigned to cleaning E5 in the morning.

Once out of the room, we instinctively adopt our respective mistress and slave status. We return to the tower, and the three mistresses take the elevator to their suites on the upper levels. Belinda, Twenty, Opal and I head down to level 1. We have five minutes to use the facilities before we are expected to be in our dormitory. That's no easy task with so many of us in such a confined space. Those who have done this before know to start their bedtime routine before the ten minute warning bell sounds.

My assigned bed is between Opal on my left and Amber on my right. While we are provided with specially designed linen night shirts that leave our tits exposed, most of those in the room prefer to sleep naked. I'm slightly surprised to see Opal doesn't hesitate to get into bed naked.

"What did you two get up to after the evening meal?" asks Amber. "I came looking for you after Madame Melissa released me from the dungeon, but nobody knew where you went."

"Oh! We would have left word had we realised you weren't going to be spending the night in the dungeon," I reply. "We went to an orgy in E5. What did you do?"

"Apparently a night in the dungeon is a treat for later," says Amber. "I spent the evening upstairs in a level 4 suite."

"Wow! How did you score that?"

"I got hired," replies Amber. "While I was looking for you, Madame Lucy ambushed me and had me attend a private party she was holding with two other mistresses in her suite."

"What was that like?"

"Okay, I guess. Boring for the most part. I was simply there to fetch and carry as three thirty-somethings romped around like teenagers on their first vacation away from their parents."

"Lights out in two minutes," calls Slave Tessa from the doorway. "Attach your ankle chains to your left leg and make sure the lock engages. You don't want to suffer the consequences if I find you unrestrained when I check later."

The ankle chains are electronically operated, eliminating the need for manual keys, and also providing a safer emergency unlock procedure. Each slave has her left ankle shackled to her bed, with enough play in the chain to enable her to reach the chamber pot under her bed in case of need. Climbing into the next bed is impossible although there's just enough play in the chain for two neighbours to touch each other.

While Tessa referred to a late night check, I suspect the ankle locks are electronically monitored rather than needing a physical check. That's not to say the facility isn't monitored at night, but the days of a patrolling night-watch are probably a thing of the past.

I settle down for the night, as does the rest of the dormitory. Of the sixteen beds in the room, thirteen are occupied. One of the empty beds has a name plate over the headboard, indicating it has been allocated to Riley. She was in our work party this afternoon ... an attractive redhead in her mid twenties. I saw her at the evening meal, so I can only assume that she is sleeping somewhere else tonight. Perhaps she's getting her brains fucked out by the mistress who was drooling over her while we were working this afternoon. We are each allocated a bed, but there's no requirement to sleep in it. We're not allowed to share dormitory beds, but a mistress can take any slave into her bed. Slave caste members have tracking devices embedded in the clasp of their necklace, so the club administration can locate any slave if the need arises.

Thanks to the multiple orgasms I enjoyed before going to bed, I manage to sleep a lot better than I anticipated. The dormitory is well ventilated, so it doesn't get too hot or smelly. Nobody consciously makes a disturbance, but in a crowded room there is obviously some noise. There are those who snore ... despite strenuous denials ... and the clink-clink of ankle chains invades the quiet every time someone rolls over in bed. All in all, though, I can tolerate the experience. Opal seems less comfortable with arrangement, but she doesn't complain. I don't know how Amber fared as she had been woken early to take her turn in preparing our breakfast.

Apart from those like Amber who were roused early, the rest of us wake to the sound of a bell and the automatic unlocking of our ankle chains. Then there's a scramble for the bathroom. The facilities are designed to cope with the sudden influx of women, but I'm not looking forward to my turn at cleaning up the resulting mess. That's a treat for Tuesday morning when Opal and I are assigned to the job on Tessa's roster.

I copy the routine of some of those who obviously have experience at navigating the morning surge. There's something to be said for taking a shower in the evening rather than first thing in the morning. The hot water soon becomes tepid, and the more popular foods at breakfast are gone by the time the latecomers arrive. While the schedule doesn't give us time to idle about, there's no need for an unseemly rush to be ready by nine o'clock.

Opal and I aren't required for this morning's work duties, so we have a few hours to ourselves. It's an opportunity for us to explore the island. We leave the Tower with those heading toward the Common Room to report for work duty. It's a trick Tessa mentioned if we want to avoid being 'hired' by a mistress. Most of them will only be crawling out of bed at this hour, and those who are up and about and looking for a 'hire' will usually look for slaves with free time rather than interrupt the resort's routine.

We walk past the stables, which are infrequently used at this time of year. I recall from recent club newsletters that there's a proposal to improve the heating to enable all-year use. Unfortunately, the resort needs to obtain the island owner's consent to upgrade the power supply, and that is proving difficult to obtain. Opal and I look inside and are surprised that the interior is nothing like what we expected. While the building was undoubtedly once used as a stables, the interior is now fitted out as a set of spacious multi-purpose rooms that are popular with those wanting a quiet indoor space.

Opal and I continue our exploration of the island. It's still early morning and the air is cool with a chilly breeze off the lake. Normally we would consider wearing jackets in this weather, but that would conflict with the club's requirement for our tits to be left exposed at all times. Given the choice of turning back into the warmth of the buildings, or continue with our walk, we opt to show our fortitude and press on. To ease our discomfort we walk with our arms around each other, sharing our warmth. Before long our hands have drifted upwards to grasp each other's tits. It's an intimate moment that opens possibilities I hadn't previously thought Opal was interested in exploring with me.

------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9.06: Melissa: Mixing Work and Pleasure -------------------------------------------------

Melissa

I check in with Chloe before breakfast. I've a busy day ahead, even without the added duty of overseeing Amber. Now that I've transferred to the Mistress caste, Helen is arranging for me to be assigned a bed in the Black cats staff dormitory with Chloe, Nicole, Helen and the other mistresses. I've mixed feelings about moving dormitories despite it meaning I get to sleep in the same one as Chloe. If anything, it's going to be a torment, being so close to my betrothed, but not able to be intimate. Our pending wedding is still a closely guarded secret to all but a few.

"How was your first night as a Mistress?' asks Chloe.

"I don't think the change has fully hit home yet. Besides, I slept in my bed in the White cat dormitory last night, and I've still to choose clothing for my new caste. The temporary dress I chose last night isn't really my style."

"I think you look okay in that," says Chloe, risking an intimate touch of my arm, and peeking down the top of my dress.

"It feels like a tent," I laugh. "If I had larger tits and a rounder arse, then I might fill the void, but I need something that's a tighter fit."

"Hmmm. Perhaps. Have you got time to pick something out this morning?"

"No. I'll need to leave that until later in the day. I've arranged to meet Amber at eight-thirty, and Kirsty at eleven. She and the work party Rebecca is organising will be ferrying the first pallets of building supplies for the E4 refurbishment. The contractors arrive tomorrow morning, so I need to check everything is ready by tonight."

"Well you can always get Amber to help you," says Chloe. "She's chosen to be a Bondage slave, but that doesn't prevent her from being put to work."

I consider Chloe's advice about using Amber to help me. Our preliminary discussion last night didn't give me any clear pointers as to Amber's fetishes, beyond her enthusiasm to try anything. Well, perhaps we can test her resilience at being made to work after a couple of hours in the dungeon.

Amber is waiting for me in the Common Room when I arrive. She's tied her copper-red hair in a high ponytail like yesterday, so I presume that's her preferred hairstyle. She's understandably nervous about the day ahead and I do my best to portray confidence in my ability to deliver the expected experience.

"I presume from the look of you, that you exercise regularly," I say.

"Yes, Madame. I visit the gymnasium three or four times a week when I'm at home."

"Well, we can't have you getting flabby, so we'll spend an hour in the gymnasium in E5. You can impress me with your athleticism."

We move across to building E5 as a dozen slaves start assembling in the Common Room for their morning's work duty. With the need to get everything ready for the contractors arrival tomorrow morning, nearly all the slaves on the island will be assigned to work groups either this morning or this afternoon.

Once we are in the gymnasium I have Amber strip naked so that she experiences something different from her regular workout. I set her running on the treadmill while I practise lifting weights nearby. Weightlifting is an exercise I first started doing with Madame Natasha, a former amateur weightlifting champion. These days I've progressed to lifting ten kilogram weights. My leather dress is uncomfortable for doing exercise, so I strip down to my panties before continuing.

I allow Amber to change to different exercises of her choice, mainly to learn her preferred exercise routine. She watches me carefully as I continue working with weights. I detect a hint of sexual arousal building inside her, but whether that's from performing her exercises while naked, or from the sight of my near-naked body is unclear. While I complained earlier to Chloe about the smallish size of my tits and arse, I'm not uncomfortable with my body being admired.

We finish in the gym after an hour of strenuous exercise. We are both sweating profusely as we move through to the shower room. There's a hint of sexual tension as we shower side by side, but I'm wary of pushing Amber too far too soon.

I'm going to need to be careful in my treatment of Amber. The privacy of a club member's personal life is respected, and unless she chooses to relate some of those details, a mistress has no right to inquire. That can make it difficult for me to deliver the best experience for Amber, as I'm effectively flying blind. However, I've experienced the situation from Amber's side of the divide between mistress and slave, so I understand why the rules are what they are.

As a staff member I have access to some information about Amber from her club records, but I've resisted the temptation to look. I know from my experience as a White cat, that if I suddenly reveal something from her club records that she hasn't voluntarily told me then the trust that we need to develop will be harder to achieve.

So far, my impression of Amber is that she's someone who hides her insecurities behind a mask of thrill-seeking boldness and confidence. She's undoubtedly the instigator of the dare with Pearl and Opal for the three of them to switch to the Slave caste and come to the island for a two week experience. I suspect her choice to endure the fortnight as a Bondage Slave was an impulsive move that wasn't given much prior thought. That doesn't mean that Amber is likely to chicken out, although she would be allowed to do so if she wished. Perhaps that's also a challenge for me. I need to strike the right balance between the harshness of being in bondage, with the sexual pleasure Amber could gain from such an experience.

"Is Pearl okay after her session in the dungeon yesterday evening?" I ask out of curiosity, and as a probe into understanding the relationship between the three women.

"I presume so, Madame," replies Amber. "She and Opal spent the evening at an orgy in E5 getting their brains fucked out. They were still fast asleep when I was roused for my turn at preparing breakfast."

I make a mental note to check Tessa's roster for the work duties on level 1. I could ask her to change the roster to fit in with my schedule for Amber, but I haven't even thought through today's plan, let alone for the next fortnight. I can easily work in with Tessa's roster, so that Amber isn't being expected to be in two places at the same time.

"Are you, Pearl and Opal close friends?" I ask, risking a small probe into Amber's life.

"We met through the club's social media while we were in the Ladies caste ... I mean, Blue cats, Madame. We live some distance apart, so this is the first time we've physically met each other. Opal stayed on the island early last year while she was in the Ladies caste. It was she who pointed out that there is more fun to be had as a mistress or slave. I guess that's what triggered our decision to switch to the Slave caste."

"Hmm. I agree that the island doesn't offer much to Blue cats that they can't experience somewhere that is easier to reach," I reply.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean the club should discourage them from coming to the island, Madame. Blue cats each have their own reason for coming. That they pass resorts and motels offering similar comfort and views in order to get here, means they value something the island is offering. I suspect many are closet mistresses or slaves, but too timid to actively take part."

I consider Amber's comments as we complete our showers and prepare Amber for a morning of hard work.

Kirsty moors the launch at the island jetty by eleven o'clock and secures the loaded barge she has towed from the dam jetty. Rebecca has assigned three Field slaves to the task of unloading the barge and transporting the contents to E4. Vicky, our resident White cat maintenance staff member, is operating the small tractor and trailer that will haul the heavier items. I add Amber to the work party, since leaving her bound in the dungeon seems pointless.

As a token of her Bondage Slave status I make her wear a ball gag and thick leather collar, but I leave off the shackles since they will only get in the way. As soon as Kirsty is satisfied that the barge is properly secured, she allows the work party to begin unloading it. Most of the items are light enough to be carried by a woman on her own, and small enough to fit on the trailer. Only the four-metre long drainage pipes need to be carried up the driveway.

The whole process takes an hour and a half, meaning Kirsty has sufficient time to tow the barge back to the dam jetty and pick up the four Black cats scheduled to arrive this afternoon. Initially we had decided against allowing members to schedule their departure or arrival for today and tomorrow so as to free up the launch to transport the contractors and their supplies. In the end, Chloe reluctantly agreed to allow Black cat members to arrive today. It's not a major imposition today, but I'm glad Chloe refused to allow any members' arrivals and departures tomorrow.

The work party at the jetty has attracted an audience of four mistresses who obviously enjoy hard work and can watch it for hours. I'm not sure what is so fascinating about observing four slaves lug four metre long lengths of pipe up the driveway, but it holds the mistresses attention for ages. Just as we are finishing, and the mistresses look ready to move on, Pearl and Opal come walking along the path that circles the island. The path is normally a favourite haunt of Lady caste members, but since there are none on the island at the moment, the pathway is little used at the moment.

"You two," calls one of the mistresses. "Come here."

Pearl and Opal belatedly realise they have blundered into something they are probably going to regret blundering into. However, they dutifully obey the mistress's command.

"We are ready for lunch. You two can come and make us a meal."

"Yes, Madame," replies Pearl, visibly relieved that the task isn't anything worse.

The six of them head towards the Tower, while I go to collect Amber. She is waiting by the entrance to E4 helping Vicky make the final adjustments to the items that have been stacked ready for tomorrow.

"Follow me, Amber," I say as I remove her ball gag and collar. "We shall get something to eat and then we'll put you through your paces in the dungeon."

"Yes, Madame," replies Amber, with a mixture of excitement and trepidation in her voice.

By tradition, lunch for all castes is usually sandwiches or a cold buffet meal. Cooked meals are reserved for breakfast and evening meals. Of course, those of the Mistress caste can summon slaves to cook them a lunch, but relatively few bother. That makes me wonder what Pearl and Opal are really going to be doing. Each Mistress can hire a slave for one hour, and with four mistresses that could mean both slaves are hired for as long as four hours.

I escort Amber to the kitchen-dining area on level 1 of the Tower. Normally slaves would need to make their own lunch, but someone has prepared a few plates of sandwiches and bowls of fruit. The more popular choices are already gone, but there's plenty to eat if you aren't fussy. I could go to the kitchen-dining area in the staff rooms on level 2 of the Administration building, but the choice of food will be no different.

"Select what you want and follow me," I say to Amber as I point to the selection of food.

"Yes, Madame," replies Amber, following my example and selecting some sandwiches and fruit.

I lead Amber towards the dungeon.