Yes, Mistress

YES, MISTRESS

The Island of Madam SIN Book 2

By

Judith Devere

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Yes, Mistress The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2 Copyright © 2007 Judith Devere ISBN: 1-55410-802-0 Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books Look for us online at: www.extasybooks.com

To Pauline Reages and the product of her imagination, “O”, whose willing submission to sexual exploitation, torment and anguish in the name of love inspired the genesis of Katrina Mandell.

Chapter One

I

t was early evening when Katrina Mandell began to emerge from the all-enveloping shroud of deep and profound sleep. Shafts of blood-orange light from the setting sun slanted through the windows to penetrate the relative gloom of her bedroom. She lay for a while in the no-man’s-land between slumber and wakefulness, in which reality and dream-state fantasy slowly begin to separate. Images of events, vivid, surreal, coalesced in her mind. Were they the product of a dream? A nightmare? Her burgeoning consciousness wrestled with the question, trying to analyze the substance of her thoughts. The scene, she knew, was real enough in the sense that the location actually existed. It was Madame Christina SIN’s lofty suite in the single tower of Chateau Levequ. Morning sunlight had filled the room, a capricious, balmy breeze drifting in through the open French windows. Katrina’s mind began to flesh out the imagery, recalling detail. With a flush of embarrassment, she realized…remembered…that she had been naked, except for a pair of self-supporting stockings and high heeled patent leather shoes. She stood in the center of the room, the focus of attention for the others present. There were five of them, four of whom watched her intently from their seats in an approximate semicircle around her. Madam SIN sat at her expansive antique writing desk, flanked on her right by Vladimir Romanoff and on her left by the owner of everything and, effectively, everyone on 1

Judith Devere

this small Caribbean island Armand Levequ. Next to Armand sat Madam SIN’s personal assistant, the exquisitely lovely Thai, Frederique. The seat next but one to Romanoff was occupied by Katrina’s former maid and lover, Camille. Having temporarily vacated her own seat next to Romanoff, the beautiful Chinese dominatrix, CHIANG Ming stood next to Katrina. Although she presently faced the wall opposite Madam SIN’s desk, her back to her observers, Katrina nevertheless felt the intensity of their gaze as, mesmerized like some small animal cornered by a cobra, she stared at the naked figure now descending the exposed wooden spiral staircase that led from the gallery above. Although in his sixties, Jacob was in superb physical condition. Shaven-headed, lean and muscular, his taut black flesh gleamed like satin in the sunlight. But the fact that he possessed the body of a man half his age — and a very fit one at that — was by no means the most remarkable feature of the Chateau Levequ blacksmith, and like the others in the room, Katrina found her gaze irresistibly drawn now to his monstrous penis. Hugely erect, the organ projected from his loins like a ship’s prow, proclaiming unequivocally the intensity of his arousal. “Your final test, Katrina…for today, at least.” Madam SIN’s voice broke the silence that had descended on the room with Jacob’s appearance on the gallery above. With an effort, Katrina swallowed the hard ball of panic that had formed in her throat. “My…test?” she replied, the words dry, brittle. Ming moved closer to Katrina, spoke softly into her ear. “Don’t play the fool, Katrina. You know what is expected of you, I think.” The words were suffused with familiar mockery. In response, Katrina wrenched her gaze from the awesome prospect of Jacob’s swollen manhood to look at CHIANG Ming. “But, Ming…” she began, then, remembering her present status, 2

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

corrected herself. “I’m sorry…I mean Mistress. Surely, I’m not expected to…” She glanced momentarily at back at Jacob, then turned to face Ming again. Ming merely smiled the thin, humorless smile that Katrina had learned from experience to recognize as the precursor to one or more of the seemingly infinite manifestations of torment the imperious dominatrix was capable of inflicting. Ming followed suit as Katrina turned around to face the desk, and switched her gaze to Armand, her only hope of a reprieve — if their hours together in her bed during the previous night had meant anything to him. “Armand?’ Katrina pleaded tremulously. ‘Will you let them do this to me? After last night? I thought…” “Katrina, you must forget about last night — or at least think of it as just another phase in your…development. You have elected to remain indentured to me for the full term of your contract…subject, of course, to your ability to maintain the high standards demanded of you. The challenge that faces you now, and the manner in which you apply yourself to it, will determine whether you will actually be permitted to move on to the next stage of your contract.” Katrina felt the now familiar lurch of fear in her belly, as if the floor had suddenly dropped away beneath her. “You mean, if I fail… My father…?” Armand nodded. “I’m afraid so, Katrina. You will have failed me and him, and he of course will have to bear the consequences.” “But that’s not fair. After everything I’ve been through; everything I’ve been made to do… Ow!” Katrina’s exclamation aborted the remainder of the sentence, a reflexive response to Ming’s suddenly seizing her by her hair and slapping her, hard, several times across her across her naked breasts. It was a technique Katrina had experienced on 3

Judith Devere

other occasions when she had angered Ming, the stinging rain of blows delivered both fore and backhand with stunning speed. This time, though, the assault was particularly painful, following, as it did, the earlier clamping of her nipples and the thorough whipping Ming had subjected her to only minutes earlier. “Respect at all times,” Ming hissed through clenched teeth. Katrina bit her lower lip, willing the pain to dissipate. “Ye...yes, Mistress,” she murmured. “I’m…sorry. Please forgive me.” “Let us continue,” said Madam SIN, ignoring the incident. Ming looked at Madam SIN, second in authority only to Armand himself at Chateau Levequ, and absolute Mistress of the island in his absence. “Of course, Christina. Where would you like…?” Madam SIN gestured with a sweep of her hand. “Here. On my desk.” Romanoff raised his eyebrows. “Well, this is an innovation, Christina, I must say.” Madam SIN smiled. “Armand’s idea. He thought it might be novel to see Katrina spread and taken in…the workplace, as it were. And I have to say I agree, which is why I cleared a space. But look, Jacob is clearly painfully ready; we ought not to keep the poor man waiting.” All eyes turned on the blacksmith who was standing just a few feet away from Katrina now. Having seen Lady Frances Jeaffreson penetrated by his immense organ, Katrina had some small idea of the ordeal facing her. Lady Frances had not been exaggerating when she described Jacob as being ‘hung like a young horse’. And even now, as he stood, literally in the flesh, before the assembled company, Katrina found it hard to accept that a man could be blessed — or perhaps more accurately, cursed — with so impossibly large a penis. That Lady Frances had eventually been able to accommodate it — albeit with considerable anguish 4

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

and physical distress — had truly amazed Katrina. But Lady Frances was a woman of the world, and vastly more sexually experienced than Katrina, who feared that Jacob’s organ might easily inflict physical injury on her. She glanced reproachfully at the mulatto, her former maid, knowing that she would not be facing this dreadful ordeal but for her. She had recklessly confided in Camille that the prospect of being ravished by Jacob was the one thing she might not be able to endure under the terms of her indenture to Armand Levequ. That disclosure, she now realized, had been her undoing. Camille had obviously betrayed her confidence to those in authority —which, of course, was the very reason Madam SIN, or Armand, or both, had planned this ‘challenge’ for her. It was indeed a test…and a daunting one. If she failed, her contract with Armand Levequ would become void, and he would ensure that her father went to prison for defrauding their joint commercial enterprise, Levequ, Mandell and Company. Katrina consciously stiffened her resolve. Whatever she might have to suffer, she simply could not allow her father to face imprisonment. Summoning what little pride she could in these humiliating circumstances, she raised her head and pushed her shoulders back, ironically unconscious of the fact that this caused her breasts to jut forward provocatively, thus quickening the interest of her observers. “I am ready,” she said, quietly, with as much confidence as she could muster. Madam SIN inclined her head marginally to one side in acknowledgement. “Well said, Katrina. Ming, Camille, bring Katrina to my desk.” “Yes, Christina,” Ming replied, gripping Katrina by the upper arm. Steadfastly avoiding Katrina’s gaze, Camille approached her and took hold of her free arm. Together, Ming and Camille led Katrina to the great antique desk. Katrina looked again toward Armand, but his expression 5

Judith Devere

remained fixed, betraying nothing of his thoughts. The others, however, clearly shared an overt common interest in what was about to happen, and the smoldering light in Ming’s eyes seemed almost exactly mirrored in Romanoff’s. Madam SIN said, “Lay her on her back on top of the desk.” Trembling, Katrina allowed Ming and Camille to turn her around so that the carved wooden edge of Madam SIN’s desk pressed against the backs of her thighs. Then they slowly tilted her backwards until she lay flat on the cool leather-clad surface of the desk, her buttocks at the very edge. This would have put a strain on her back but for the fact that Ming and Camille took hold of her legs just above the knees, bending and drawing them back against her body so that she assumed a sort of childbirth posture. Now, the inverted image of Madam SIN’s face appeared above Katrina, looking down at her. “Lift your head and shoulders, Katrina.” Obediently, Katrina pushed herself up off the desk a little on her elbows, allowing Madam SIN to slip a big cushion under her head and shoulders. In this position, Katrina now looked down along her own body, through the valley between her breasts and over the flat plane of her belly to the smoothly shaven mound of her sex. In response to a sign from Madam SIN, Ming and Camille moved apart and closer to the desk, at the same time spreading Katrina’s thighs wider and pushing them back firmly against her hips. Through the divide between her thighs Katrina watched with horrified fascination as Jacob moved closer now, his massive erection looming toward her like some fiendish mediaeval siege engine. Within seconds, his hips were lodged firmly between her widespread thighs, and the great black cock lay stiff upon her mound and lower belly. This was the closest Katrina had ever been to the thing, which now seemed to her like an entity in its own right; a living, breathing thing that pulsed to 6

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the beat of its owner’s heart and, it seemed, regarded her voraciously with its single eye. Madam SIN cast a meaningful glance at Ming. “Is she…ready?” Ming slid her free hand between Katrina’s thighs, brushing against Jacob’s testicles as she pressed her fingertips against her sex. Ming shook her head. “No, Christina. She’s dry.” “Mm. Obviously inhibited by anxiety.” Madam SIN transferred her gaze to Jacob. “You can remedy the problem, I think, Jacob?” Jacob acknowledged the suggestion with a barely discernible nod, then lowered himself to his knees between Katrina’s thighs. Now Katrina felt his breath, hot, moist, on her labia. She flinched, felt herself flush as his cheeks brushed against her inner thighs. Leaning into her, he kissed in turn each of the little hollows between her thighs and her sex. She moaned involuntarily as his lips made contact with hers. Despite her anxiety, she felt the dormant spring within her vulva begin to ooze as he repeatedly probed the delicate folds of her intimate flesh with his tongue. She flinched, shuddered, as its tip flicked over her swollen clitoris. She bit her lower lip as Jacob’s eyes, glowing mahogany brown, fixed hers over her now glistening mons. Although his gaze was intense, fired with lust, there was something else in their depths also; something that helped marginally relieve her anxiety and the tight knot of tension in her belly. Paradoxically, it was a hint of kindness, of concern for her wellbeing. Katrina recalled her conversation with Jacob after his contrived ‘rape’ of Lady Jeaffreson in the stables. He had freely admitted then that he would welcome the opportunity to make love to Katrina also, and that he would not hesitate to take her if instructed to do so by those in authority at Chateau Levequ. She couldn’t blame him for that; he was a man, after all. But she also knew instinctively that, 7

Judith Devere

on another level, he was her friend, he would not wittingly inflict serious harm on her, and it was this reassurance that she now recognized in his equivocal gaze. Jacob, himself, she suddenly understood, was suffering a kind of torment of his own, in which his desire for her wrestled with his conscience. She felt strangely touched by this…and increasingly aroused by his ardent attention to her now saturated vulva. Ming smiled as Katrina uttered a soft moan. “Ah, all is well,” she observed. “The bitch has come into heat.” For some inexplicable reason, the remark spawned a slither of excitement in Katrina’s womb, and she moaned again, this time louder and with greater abandon. “Is she ready, Jacob?” Madam SIN asked. Katrina sighed as Jacob withdrew his questing tongue from her depths to answer, “She’s ready Ma’am.” “Then take her.” As Jacob rose to his feet Katrina was reminded again of just how impossibly enormous his penis was. Grasping the shaft in his hand now, he guided the great rounded head between her thighs to root among the slick, crinkled pleats of her sex. Katrina gasped. Wrenching her gaze from the black monster that was about to impale her, she raised her eyes to meet his. What followed was a seemingly interminable moment in which the two just looked at each other, Katrina feeling inexplicably that he was waiting for some sort of signal from her to do what must be done. At last, drawing on all her reserves of courage, she willed her lips into a fragile smile. But the smile was banished in an instant as Jacob acknowledged its significance by thrusting forward to breach her. She groaned as he drove into her. Ming and Camille urged her thighs yet wider apart and further back against her body. The invading organ seemed to force the air from Katrina’s lungs as it impaled her, stretching…ever stretching. And then came the pain. She had known there would 8

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

be pain — that much was apparent from the astonishing dimensions of Jacob’s erection — but the exquisite reality, perversely intensified by her arousal, proved far worse than she could have anticipated. Fear and panic suddenly gripped her, and for a moment she came close to renouncing her contractual obligation to Armand, the words actually forming in her mind. No! I can’t take it. Let me go. But then she recalled her conversation with Camille when she had described Lady Frances’s penetration by this very same penis, recounting her fear at that time that Jacob might split the woman open. Camille’s reassuringly skeptical response came back to her now. Women have babies. We’re very flexible…down there. And this logic seemed to have been borne out by the fact that, although the experience had clearly been a considerable ordeal for Lady Frances, she appeared to have suffered no lasting injury. Indeed, she had ultimately transcended her anguish to find release in what appeared to Katrina to be an explosive orgasm. In this recollection, Katrina found the strength she needed to continue through her own ordeal. The analogy Camille had drawn between giving birth and penetration by Jacob’s oversized organ now helped Katrina cope with the latter experience in a tangible way. Remembering what little she knew of childbirth, she began to pant rhythmically. But impalement was different than expulsion, and so rather than pushing, she consciously willed the powerful muscles in her belly and the walls of her distended sex to relax. The technique definitely helped, easing the pain if not her dismay. It felt as if she were being possessed internally by the sheer bulk of Jacob’s rigid cock as he sank it slowly but inexorably into her, seeming to occupy not only her sex, but her entire being. A mental image flashed on the backdrop of her mind. Fantastical though it undoubtedly was, she pictured the great cock passing right through her to emerge from her mouth, skewering her like a 9

Judith Devere

suckling pig on the spit. Perversely, the concept only fired her arousal to even greater intensity. Suddenly, she realized that Jacob had begun to withdraw from her. In its reversal of direction, his cock seemed to suck at her vulva like the undertow of an ocean wave pulling back from the shore. As much as Ming’s and Camille’s restraining hands would permit, Katrina squirmed on the leather surface of Madam SIN’s desk, small cries of awe escaping her lips. But before she could even catch her breath, Jacob began to drive into her again. From the moment his cock had first pressed against her labia, she had avoided looking at him, instead fixing her gaze on the ornate ceiling of the room so as to limit her ordeal to one of physical sensation alone. Now, she looked down along her naked body, between her thighs, and watched in wide-eyed disbelief as the immense black cock, glistening with her own arousal, sank into her again. She gasped, then cried out as the gleaming shaft dragged across the swollen bud of her clitoris on its inward passage. Slowly at first, then with increasing momentum, Jacob’s hips began to undulate to a fluid, primal rhythm. Despite its fearsome girth, his cock slipped along in the grip of her vulva with remarkable ease now, the two conjoined in a natural piston-like fit that had been emulated, though never equaled, by the best efforts of the world’s finest mechanical engineers. And with each stroke, Katrina’s arousal surged to greater intensity. He reached for her with strong, callused hands. “Yes, yes,” she heard herself gasp as he took hold of her breasts, kneading them, pinching the swollen nipples between his fingers and thumbs. As he quickened his pace, wild cries and animal grunts sounded in Katrina’s ears, the voice familiar but unrecognizable to her as her own in the crazed confusion of her senses. Urging him on now, she even pushed against him as he thrust into her, 10

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

becoming an eager accomplice to her own ordeal. The glow in her belly, and below, blossomed, spreading further afield to eclipse the pain, or at least subjugate it to a tolerable level. Inevitably, time passed but somehow seemed to Katrina to have lost all sense of its value. How long had he been fucking her? she wondered vaguely as his pubis pounded hers with increasing fury. The unbidden thought — irrelevant, she acknowledged — evaporated almost before it had fully formed. Like the strings of a violin under the maestro’s bow, every nerve in her body began to sing now. In this moment, this act of undiluted lust, she temporarily lost her identity, her existence as an individual. The world as she had known it just moments earlier ceased to be. For now, this instant, there was nothing, nothing, beyond the roaring vortex of sheer, wanton carnality she had become. It was the sudden scalding flush of Jacob’s eruption deep inside her that triggered her own release. The orgasm exploded, ripping the air from her lungs in a feral scream. After the unrelenting assault of alternate torment and pleasure to which she had been subjected over the past few hours, this was more than she could endure. The climax tilted her into sensual overload, robbing her of consciousness before it had fully run its course. For the second time that morning, Katrina fainted… How long ago was that? she wondered now. From losing consciousness at the height of orgasm, until the moment she awoke in her bed just minutes ago, she remembered nothing. Ordinarily she would have attributed this to the drug laced wine with which she was frequently plied at Chateau Levequ to either lower her resistance or fire her libido, but she had neither drunk nor eaten anything today. Sheer emotional and physical exhaustion, it seemed, was the cause of her fainting… twice… this morning. But then that was hardly surprising, she supposed, when she considered everything she had undergone in just a few 11

Judith Devere

short hours. Strung up, naked, with metal clamps fixed painfully to her nipples, she had been whipped and subjected to almost unendurable sexual stimulation from the electrically operated dildos Ming had inserted in her sex and anus…and all this had turned out to be merely the prelude to her ‘final test’ with Jacob. She turned to look at the bedside clock and was surprised to see that it was only eleven-thirty. Recalling the morning’s events, she found it hard to believe that everything that had happened to her had taken place before noon, in bright tropical sunlight with birds singing on the mountainside outside. Her ordeals at the hands of her custodians most often took place after dark, which seemed somehow more fitting given their lascivious nature. Even as this notion occurred to her, Katrina checked her train of thought to question her own use of the word ‘ordeal’. To be sure, the treatment she had endured today qualified well enough for the term; it had been an unprecedented assault on her senses and the severest test yet of her resolve. And it was true that during her brief stay at Chateau Levequ, she had been subjected to a bewildering array of sexual and sadomasochistic experiences, each of which had seemed a considerable ordeal at the time. But in hindsight and in truth, she could no longer think of them entirely as such. Only a few short weeks ago she had regarded these experiences as, variously, bizarre, shameful, cruel and unthinkably depraved…and yet, in many ways, she had come to embrace the abuse and torment willingly; at times even eagerly, albeit between bouts of shame and self-reproach. Now, not for the first time, she reflected on the incredible transformation she had undergone since her first physical encounter with Armand Levequ in the gazebo at Rylands, her father’s Georgian mansion in the heart of the Surrey countryside. It had taken place at the height of the annual reception for clients and associates of Levequ, Mandell. A focal point in the extensive grounds at Rylands, the gazebo was relatively distant from the 12

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

house — a factor no doubt taken into consideration by Armand when he appointed it as his rendezvous with Katrina. It was there, in bright moonlight, that he had revealed to her that her father had been embezzling money from the company. And it was there that he had delivered his ultimatum, producing a ‘contract of indenture’ which, if Katrina signed it, would bind her, body and soul, to him for the next six months. Although that prospect filled her with dismay and dread, it was clear from the outset that she had no real choice in the matter. The alternative was that Armand would report her father’s criminality to the police, and since the amount involved was close to five million pounds, he would certainly go to prison. She had signed, and Armand immediately ratified their agreement in the first of a series of events that would change her world more dramatically than she could ever have envisioned in her wildest imaginings. She recalled the moment now in vivid clarity. At his insistence, she had stripped to stand before him, naked but for her stockings, her shoes, and her jewelry. He, too, undressed, before kneeling between her parted thighs to fire her reluctant arousal with his mouth and tongue. When he considered her ready, he made her kneel on the bench seat of the gazebo while he took her from the rear, first conventionally, and then sodomizing her. In that moment she had shed her persona as a wholesome, naïve and relatively sexually inexperienced young actress, and began her decline into depravity to become…what? A common whore? Armand Levequ’s personal sex slave, to be used, abused and offered to others at will? Even now, she didn’t know for sure because Armand’s ultimate intention had still not been revealed to her. All she knew was that her fate was somehow in the balance, dependent on how she conducted herself during the final phase of her contract with him. The last vestiges of sleep had evaporated now, and with the 13

Judith Devere

inevitable confirmation that she had not been dreaming, that the lurid images in her head were a mental record of actual events rather than fantasy, a shroud of depression enveloped Katrina. It was a phenomenon she had grown accustomed to during her stay at Chateau Levequ, and although it was unpleasant, she knew from experience that it would be short lived. Time and again she had emerged from the solace of sleep only to be engulfed by the kind of dismay and despair she imagined prisoners must endure on waking each morning to the brutal reality that they really were confined by the walls and barred windows of their cells. But the transient state of misery would dissipate as quickly as it had descended, because with each successive day and each new experience she had grown increasingly to accept her present lifestyle. The daily struggle for emotional supremacy between depression and arousal seemed to be increasingly tilting in favor of the latter. More, she had begun to wonder recently if she was actually becoming dependent on this life of sexual exploitation and degradation. And even as this unsettling thought occurred to her, she thrust the bed sheets aside, and ran her hand down along her naked body, caressing her breasts and belly enroute to her sex. As if to exemplify her existence at the chateau, this act combined anguish with sensual pleasure. With slow deliberation she traced with her fingers the delicate latticework of wheals the whipping had raised on her flesh. Even now, these burned and stung at her touch, evoking from her soft little cries in response. And when her fingers brushed her nipples, swollen and puffy from the clamps she had been forced to endure throughout the earlier part of the morning’s proceedings, it felt like a jolt of electricity. But inextricably entwined with the pain and discomfort was a thickening skein of arousal. She took her time, lingering to explore the temporary changes in the landscape of her body. By the time her questing fingers reached the divide of her thighs, 14

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

her vulva was sodden and aching with desire. Probing the soft folds of flesh, she was agreeably surprised to discover that Jacob’s monstrous penis had apparently not inflicted any actual injury. Her sex was very tender, to be sure, but not so much as to dissuade her from touching herself there. With two fingers, she began to massage her clitoris in a languorous rotary motion. Despite…or perhaps because of…the abuse she had undergone this morning, her body responded readily to her intimate self stimulation. A long sigh escaped her lips as her fingers moved with now expert precision over the swollen bud of flesh that had become the focal point of her existence since she had entered the carnal world of Chateau Levequ. Images of this morning’s ordeal flashed across her mind, vivid recollection of her humiliation, the pain and undeniable arousal. Within seconds she was on the brink of orgasm, but then… Her hand froze, the fingers pressing hard against her clitoris. Someone was ringing her doorbell. Clambering out bed she moved quickly to the bathroom, hurriedly washed her hands and slipped on her bathrobe. “Who is it?” she inquired as she approached the door to her suite. “It’s me, Miss Katrina, Ingrid.”

15

Judith Devere

Chapter Two

K

atrina sighed, opened the door. “What is it, Ingrid?’ she asked, her tone textured with a trace of irritation at being denied the release that had been so close. Oblivious to Katrina’s displeasure, the German maid smiled at her. “Good morning, Miss.” Katrina forced a smile. “Good morning, Ingrid.” There was no denying that the slender German girl was attractive. No more than twenty-five, Katrina thought; slender with hair the color of ripe corn, deep blue eyes and skin that had an almost translucent quality. As she appraised the maid — not for the first time — she suddenly realized that, just a few short months ago, her interest in another woman would have been detached, on a conscious level at least; now it was something more. Her experiences in the service of Armand Levequ had awakened in her a dormant sexual attraction to other women that she could only presume had been repressed since childhood by social taboo. But it was only now, as she ran her eyes over Ingrid’s voluptuous young body, that she at last formally acknowledged to herself that she was — the word in her head — bisexual. “Is something wrong, Miss?” Ingrid asked, her furrowed brow emphasizing the query. “Wrong?” Katrina repeated, only now realizing that she had 16

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

been staring at the other woman. “No. No, I… It’s just that…well, it’s been a…difficult morning.” “Ah, of course. I should have realized. I’m sorry.” “Realized? You mean… Ingrid, do you know about…this morning?” Ingrid suddenly looked uncomfortable. Averting her eyes from Katrina, she said, “Not the details, Miss. But it’s common knowledge among the servants that you had an…interview with Madam SIN and the others this morning.” Katrina sighed. Of course it was common knowledge. She recalled the humiliating, yet thrilling, journey from her suite to Madam SIN’s quarters earlier that morning. More than a few of the servants had seen her as she walked alone along the corridors, naked but for the black stockings and patent leather shoes with five-inch heels that Ingrid herself had delivered to her suite. Thus dressed — or, rather, undressed — and wearing a liberal application of blood red lipstick was how Madam SIN had decreed that Katrina would appear at her ‘interview’. “Was it very bad, Miss?” Ingrid asked, fixing Katrina’s eyes with her own again. “Yes, Ingrid, it was.” “I’m so sorry. Can I do anything to help?” “Actually, you can,” Katrina said, suddenly remembering the amazing witch hazel lotion Camille had given her. “Come into the bedroom, will you?” Ingrid followed Katrina to the bedroom. Fetching the bottle of lotion from the bathroom, Katrina handed it to the maid. “This will help a lot, but I can’t reach everywhere. Will you put it on for me, please?” “Of course, Miss.” As Ingrid unscrewed the cap on the bottle, Katrina slipped off her robe and lay facedown on the bed, naked. Ingrid gasped. “Oh, my goodness, it looks like they gave you 17

Judith Devere

a terrible whipping. Your bottom and thighs are covered in welts. Even putting on the lotion will hurt, I’m afraid.” “It doesn’t matter, Ingrid. Just do it, please. Otherwise the marks will take longer to fade.” Ingrid knelt on the bed. Katrina flinched as the maid’s hand brushed the tender flesh of her buttocks. The mere touch of her fingertips stung at first, but then the cool, soothing effect of the lotion took over, easing the pain as she gently massaged it in. Using both hands now, Ingrid applied the balm to Katrina’s buttocks, back and thighs, gently stroking the flesh. Soon, miraculously, there was no pain; in it’s place, a sensual glow of wellbeing. Just what was in the lotion besides witch hazel Katrina had no idea, but it was incredibly effective. “Aah,” Katrina sighed softly as Ingrid’s nimble fingers slipped between her upper thighs, brushing against the outer lips of her sex. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to touch you… there.” Katrina turned her head to glance up at the maid, saw that she was actually blushing. “Don’t apologize, Ingrid. It felt…nice.” Wantonly parting her thighs, knowing that this exposed her vulva to the other woman’s gaze, she added, “Touch me again…there.” For a moment, Ingrid just stared. Katrina could almost feel the maid’s eyes burning into her sex. Hesitantly, Ingrid reached out her hand toward Katrina’s now widespread thighs, but then suddenly withdrew again. Shaking her head slowly, she whispered, “I can’t, Miss Katrina.” Katrina frowned. “Can’t?” “Daren’t, I mean.” Now Katrina understood. “You’re frightened…of Ming.” Ingrid nodded. “I saw what they did to Camille after Ming caught you with her…making love. I was serving at dinner in the 18

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

gardens that night.” The maid’s words triggered Katrina’s own recollection of the event. Lurid images sprang to life in her mind. A formal alfresco dinner hosted by Madam SIN for her guests by the ornamental lake in the gardens at the rear of the chateau. Flaming torches atop wrought iron stands spilling flickering light over the scene. At the lakeside, three dining tables arranged together in the shape of a letter U and covered with crisp white tablecloths. Silver cutlery, crystal decanters and wineglasses glinting and sparkling in the torchlight. A string quartet playing Vivaldi. Laughter and conversation around the tables, the diners sitting along the outer edges, facing the space at its center so that they could enjoy the spectacle Ming had provided for their entertainment. With unusual clarity of hindsight, Katrina saw now in her mind’s eye the wooden ‘pony’, a gallows-like implement of exquisite sexual torture that Camille had been condemned to ‘ride’ for the pleasure of Madam SIN’s guests. Quite naked, the beautiful mulatto stood on tiptoe astride the lower beam of the pony, her feet shackled to the shallow plinth at its base. Her arms were held upright, bound by the wrists to the pony’s upper beam. Thus stretched, as if by that other fiendish device of torture, the mediaeval rack, Camille’s body represented the form of an inverted letter ‘Y’. But it was not her posture alone that induced her obvious anguish. Rather, it was the fact that she was obliged to alternate between standing on the balls of her feet until her calf and thigh muscles ached beyond endurance, and then lowering her heels to stand flat-footed on the plinth. The latter alternative, though, while allowing some respite from the murderous aching of her thigh and calf muscles, lowered her sex onto the beam, her bodyweight forcing the tender folds of her vulva hard against the convex surface of its unyielding narrow surface. 19

Judith Devere

Writhing on the lower beam of the device — ‘riding the pony’ — Camille experienced both exquisite pain and intense arousal, her pitiful pleas for mercy mingling with cries of anguish and carnal groans. Slick with perspiration, her naked form glistened in the dancing light of the torches as she writhed in paroxysms of orgasm and agony, to the obvious delight of the onlookers. And so the poor woman remained throughout dinner, during which one or other of the guests would periodically interrogate her, in intimate detail, as to how she felt. Ironically, Katrina’s graphic recollection of Camille’s humiliation and suffering only served to intensify her arousal now — especially when she remembered too that, while she had observed Camille’s ordeal on the pony, delicate fingers had been covertly exploring the slick folds of her own sex beneath the dinner table. Those audacious fingers belonged to Yasmeen, the delectable Arab concubine of another of Madam SIN’s guests who had been sitting alongside her. Yasmeen’s quest had been rendered especially easy for her by the fact that Ming had denied Katrina the use of underwear that night. “I’m sorry, Miss Katrina.” Ingrid’s apology jolted Katrina from her reverie. “It doesn’t matter,” she snapped, irritably. “Leave me alone now please.” The maid looked uncomfortable. “I’m truly sorry, Miss. I would like to…pleasure you. Really I would, but…” Katrina sighed. “It’s all right, Ingrid,” she answered, her tone softening. “I do understand. And I won’t hold it against you.” Ingrid seemed relieved. “Thank you, Miss.” She began to walk toward the door, then stopped and turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot.” “Forgot what?” Reaching into a pocket beneath her apron, Ingrid pulled out an envelope. “I’m to give you this, Miss; the reason I came to your 20

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

quarters. It’s from Madam SIN.” “Thank you. Put it on the dressing table please.” When Ingrid had gone, Katrina turned on her back, a shaft of sunlight from the open French windows spilling warmth over her belly and thighs. As she lay there, her thoughts meandering aimlessly, her hand reached instinctively toward her sex again in pursuit of the release Ingrid’s arrival had deferred. But then she remembered Madam SIN’s letter, the thought quickly dispelling all others. Getting off the bed, she went to the dressing table. She picked up the letter, looked at it. She had received other such letters during her stay at Chateau Levequ, invariably containing instructions as to what she should wear or what she must do. She fondled the envelope between her fingers and thumb, feeling the texture; as always, the stationery — like all things at Chateau Levequ — was of the finest quality. Cream in color, the envelope bore the Levequ coat of arms embossed in gold. With trembling fingers she opened it, removing and unfolding the single stiff sheet of paper from within. The message from Madam SIN was brief. Katrina was to have dinner with her in her quarters at eight that evening, and for once, she was not required to dress formally. Katrina was surprised. Until now, her options for dinner had invariably been either to eat alone in her suite, or in the main dining room on the first floor where formal evening wear was always required, and where she might or might not be invited to dine at the same sitting as Madam SIN, her associates and any visiting guests. Although she did not understand why, this departure from the norm kindled a spark of anxiety in Katrina, diminishing to insignificant the level of her sensual arousal. She made for the bathroom and a cold shower.

21

Judith Devere

Chapter Three

K

atrina tugged the bell-pull sash that hung beside the great iron studded oak door to Madam SIN’s quarters. From within she heard the faint metallic clank of the bell in response. “Come in.” Though muffled by the thickness of the door, Madam SIN’s voice was nevertheless recognizable. Katrina opened the door and stepped inside the room that had been the scene of her ordeal that very morning. Was it only this morning? Somehow it seemed a lifetime ago. It was the first time she had been in Madam SIN’s quarters after dark. Concealed lighting in alcoves along the walls complemented the effect of the glittering chandelier overhead, somehow contriving to reinforce the illusion that the chateau still existed in the eighteenth rather than the twenty-first century. The lofty room served Madam SIN as both office and lounge, and the unlikely fusion was as near seamless as possible. The antique furnishing, paintings and fine ornaments had been selected with discerning taste, presumably by Madam SIN herself. Two long leather chesterfield sofas and several matching armchairs provided seating. The handsome provincial Chinese writing desk, upon which Katrina had been so devastatingly ravished by Jacob that morning, occupied a position of prominence on one side of the room. The gigantic antique mirror in its ornate gilded frame almost entirely covered the wall behind the desk, making the 22

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

already generously proportioned room seem enormous. The mirror and Katrina were intimately acquainted; she had seen her naked reflection in its bright surface more than once on the occasions when Madam SIN and her retinue had ‘interviewed’ her — a process which variously involved sexual humiliation and/or punishment. On the opposite side of the room to the desk and the mirror, the wooden spiral staircase down which Jacob had made his spectacular entrance earlier that day ascended to an open minstrel’s gallery above. In addition to the door by which Katrina had entered the suite, there were three others, one leading off the gallery above, and two more down on the lower level. “Out here, Katrina. On the balcony.” Madam SIN’s voice drew Katrina’s gaze to the open French windows and the expansive balcony beyond. There, the Mistress of Chateau Levequ sat at the circular marble topped table where Katrina had taken tea with Frederique on her first day here. “Come and join me, Katrina.” Katrina crossed the room, stepped out onto the balcony. The moon, full and butter fat, washed the balcony in golden radiance, rendering the flickering lamps mounted on the surrounding walls all but redundant, save for their charm. The table was set for two. A Caucasian maid Katrina had not seen before was busy at a serving trolley on the right of the balcony. “Good evening, Madam SIN,” Katrina said. The maid looked up at Katrina with interest, her smile somehow bolder than the servants were normally accustomed to venture on a first meeting. She was older than Kat by perhaps five years or so, with short dark hair and a slender, boyish figure. She was also, of course, very attractive, but then wasn’t everyone who worked here? For both men and women, good looks and physical perfection seemed an absolute prerequisite to securing a contract in Armand Levequ’s service. 23

Judith Devere

Looking at Madam SIN now, Katrina thought that she might easily be the benchmark by which potential female recruits to the service of Armand Levequ were judged. She was, in truth, a very beautiful woman, despite her advancing years. Katrina had often speculated about Madam SIN’s age, and had eventually compromised by placing it, somewhat vaguely, in a ten year band spanning either side of fifty. This conclusion relied more on the woman’s air of maturity and experience than on her physical appearance; from the latter alone, she might easily be on the right side of forty-five. Life and heredity had been kind indeed to Christina SIN. Though she bore her Chinese father’s surname — SIN — she was clearly of mixed ethnicity, and had apparently inherited the finer racial attributes of both her parents, in terms of physical appearance at least. She was one of those rare and fortunate women who seemed to age without the usual degradation that accompanied the process. There was no sagging flesh, no wrinkles. Her eyes, oriental in their almond shape and upward sweep, were bright and clear and had an eerie perceptive quality that sometimes gave Katrina the uncomfortable feeling that she could keep no secret from the woman. Their amber hue complemented to perfection the cinnamon tone of her flesh and her auburn-gold hair, which she wore forward, long and straight, over one shoulder. With the exception of her eyes, her facial features appeared otherwise European. There was, as Katrina had noted when they first met, a sort of sleekness about Christina SIN, which together with her distinctive coloring, evoked the image in Katrina’s mind of a beautiful tiger. Tonight, she looked sensational in a shimmering white silk robe, tied at the waist. A froth of downy white ostrich feathers edged the collar and cuffs — a theme echoed in the matching marabou slippers she wore. She sat at an angle to the table, legs crossed so that the silk parted to reveal an expanse of shapely 24

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

cinnamon thigh. Madam SIN cast a critical eye over Katrina, then smiled. “You look very nice, my dear.” “Thank you. I hope it’s not too informal.” The dress Katrina had chosen was a floral print over pale yellow, cut on the bias to create a gentle flare. The antique lace trim at the neckline and hem, the narrow shoulder straps and the pearl button-and-loop fastening down one side of the garment conspired, as she had known they would, to make her feel and look ultra feminine; she had spent several minutes confirming this before the full length mirror in her suite. Madam SIN shook her head. “Not at all. It’s perfectly charming. Please, sit down.” Turning to the maid, she said, “Brenda, some wine for Miss Katrina.” Katrina sat at the table opposite Madam SIN. The maid brought a decanter of white wine to the table. As she poured a glass for Katrina, Madam SIN held up her own glass, swirling the contents around before inhaling the bouquet. “Mmm,” she purred. “Le Montrachet. My favorite wine in all the world.” Katrina followed suit, savoring the fat luscious aroma of the wine, then sipping it. Though by no means a connoisseur, she had to agree it was exquisite. Taking a more ambitious mouthful, she wondered if, as was so often the case here, the wine was drugged. As if reading her thoughts, Madam SIN said, “No, Katrina, I wouldn’t allow this wine to be adulterated. That would be a crime.” This insightful remark took Katrina by surprise, and she wasn’t sure how to reply. That mind altering drugs, prepared by Ming, were often administered to her in her wine to control her mood was something she was not supposed to know about. Risking punishment, Camille had revealed the information to 25

Judith Devere

Katrina in confidence when they were still friends and lovers. “I…don’t know what…” Madam SIN dismissed Katrina’s response with an impatient flourish of her hand. “Oh, don’t, Katrina. We don’t want to get the evening off on the wrong footing, do we? With a lie?” “But I…” Madam SIN shook her head wearily, as a parent might at a recalcitrant child. “Camille told me everything. It was part of our…agreement.” Katrina was puzzled. “Agreement?” “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know. Camille has been promoted…to Head of Household. She now reigns supreme among all the domestic staff at Chateau Levequ.” Now Katrina understood. That was why Camille had revealed to Madam SIN that the prospect of being taken sexually by Jacob was the one thing that might make her revoke her contract. By disclosing that information — and, it now seemed probable, everything else she knew about Katrina — Camille had secured for herself a much—enhanced position at the chateau. “Yes, Katrina,” Madam SIN continued, “Camille betrayed you. She gave me the information I needed to put you to the severest test of your resolve, which was very useful. But you shouldn’t resent her for what she did. In the end it was for your own good.” Her own good? Anger flashed hot behind Katrina’s eyes. But only briefly, because the turn in the conversation now reminded her of her trial that morning, of her ‘test’. Was that why she was here now, to be given the verdict? Suddenly, she was consumed by anxiety. “Madam SIN. This morning…my…test… Did I…” For a long moment Madam SIN looked at her without speaking. At last, she said, “You are to remain here, Katrina. To finish your contract. Subject, of course, to your continued 26

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

satisfactory performance.” An audible sigh of relief escaped Katrina’s lips. It did not escape Madam SIN’s notice. “However,” she continued, “that does not mean that your performance this morning was flawless. Indeed, you caused me some embarrassment before Monsieur Levequ.” “Embarrassment? I don’t understand.” Katrina meant it. Surely, any embarrassment arising from the morning’s events was hers? And, anyway, the word embarrassment was hardly sufficient to describe the discomfiture she had experienced; shame and humiliation were far more appropriate terms. Madam SIN tilted her head forward just a fraction, her eyebrows arching in unspoken warning. “Yes,” she answered evenly. “Embarrassment.” Katrina broke eye contact with the older woman, wondering if her reaction had seemed disrespectful. “I… I’m sorry if…” “Never mind that now,” Madam SIN replied brusquely. “We’ll talk about it later. For the moment, let us enjoy dinner while we discuss your immediate future.” Turning to the maid, she said, “Brenda, you may begin serving.” Ever attentive, Brenda served dinner from the trolley. To begin, there were Belon oysters. These were followed by confite of duck, then the most delicious fried foie gras Katrina had ever tasted, the latter complemented by a deliriously delicious Chateau D’Yquem sauternes. Dessert came in the form of a crisply crusted crème brûlée, baked to perfection and accompanied by more dessert wine. They talked as they ate, Madam SIN leading the conversation through a miscellany of topics that Katrina not only found interesting, but on which she was also able to speak with both knowledge and opinion: the theatre, classical music, riding and literature. All in all, the Mistress of Chateau Levequ proved 27

Judith Devere

herself, once again, the perfect hostess. As dinner progressed, good food, fine wine and stimulating conversation conspired to uplift Katrina’s mood, and contrary to her original expectation she found that she was actually enjoying the experience. When they had finished eating, Madam SIN said, “Well, that was very agreeable, was it not, Katrina?” “Very agreeable, Madam SIN.” “Mm.” Madam SIN seemed to ponder a moment, then said, “Today marks your arrival at a significant stage in your indenture to Monsieur Levequ; a stage at which we must consider the possibility of some adjustment to your status here. To begin with, you may call me Christina from here on. Oh, but wait, that won’t do, will it?” Seeming to notice Katrina’s puzzled expression, she added, “Christina…Katrina. The names are too much alike. It would make for very unwieldy conversation.” Katrina took the point. “At school, my friends called me Kat.” Madam SIN beamed. “Kat. Perfect. I like it. Kat it shall be from now on.” Placing her napkin on the table, she added, “And now, Kat, you’ll join me in a digestif. The perfect way to round off a good meal, don’t you think?” Though not sure exactly what Madam SIN had in mind, Katrina was not about to disagree. She sensed — hoped — that the ‘adjustment’ to her status at Chateau Levequ might amount to an enhancement in some way, and since she didn’t want to say or do anything that might jeopardize that possibility she simply said, “Yes…Christina. Perfect.” “Brenda, calvados, please.” The maid busied herself at the serving trolley for a few moments then served Madam SIN and Katrina each with a glass of colorless liquid. It was a drink Katrina was not familiar with. She tasted it: dry with a hint of fruit, obviously quite strong, but pleasant. “As you would expect,” Madam SIN said, as she sipped from her own glass, “this is the finest calvados to be had — fifty28

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

years-old. Like it?” Katrina nodded. “Mm, it’s good.” “Yes.” Madam SIN settled back in her chair, resting an arm on the table. After regarding Katrina silently for a moment, she said, “Tell me, Kat, how do you feel about being here?” “I’m sorry?” “This island; your life at Chateau Levequ; your…role here. How do you feel about it all?” Kat — as she had already begun to think of herself again after all these years —set her glass on the table and dropped her hands to her lap. “Well…the Chateau is magnificent. The food and the wine, my quarters, all are first class. And the island is very beautiful.” “Quite. But your life here, how do you find it? I want to explore your perceptions.” Kat shifted uncomfortably in her chair; this was a topic she would prefer not to explore, other than in the silent privacy of her own mind. “I... Well, I…” “Now, Kat, we’ve come too far for you to be coy with me now. Tell me…as if you were imparting the information to a stranger. Describe the way you are treated here and how you feel about it.” Kat looked down at her hands. “Treated? Well, I am treated…like…” “Yes, go on.” “Well, frankly, it’s confusing. My status seems to change frequently. Sometimes I am treated like a guest, even an equal to those who have authority over me. More often, though…as you well know…I am treated as a mere slave with no will of my own. I am subjected to…sexual extremes, abuses, at the hands of both men and women. I am humiliated, degraded. I am punished regularly, sometimes severely, for minor infractions; often…” Kat cast a nervous glance at Madam SIN. “…often, it seems to me, merely on a whim, or simply for the enjoyment of others.” 29

Judith Devere

“You are disciplined.” “Yes.” “Flogged.” “Yes.” “Sexually abused and tormented, more often than not in front of an audience.” An embryonic smile played at the corners of Madam SIN’s mouth. Kat looked away again and nodded diffidently. Ironically, she felt ashamed, embarrassed. After all she had been through, that merely talking about such things could evoke such emotions in her was, she told herself, absurd. But it did, and being obliged to discuss them openly in the presence of Brenda, the maid, only served to intensify her discomfiture. “And tell me, Kat, how you feel when you are sexually humiliated or punished. Describe to me exactly how it affects you. And look at me as you speak.” Turning her eyes back on Madam SIN, Kat felt her cheeks flush hot as she spoke. Right now, she would have given anything to be anywhere but here. Forcibly quelling a compulsion to flee from the room so that she might leave the question unanswered, she replied, “It affects me…differently on different levels…at the same time.” “Go on.” “Well, on one level I hate it; the shame and humiliation; the pain.” “But on another level?” “It…” Kat willed her eyes to remain fixed on Madam SIN’s" … sometimes…arouses me.” “Sexually.” “Yes.” “Deeply. Fiercely.” Kat nodded. “Yes.” “Of course, you have no choice but to accept what is imposed 30

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

on you.” Kat shook her head. “None. My father…” “Yes, quite. You have no power to resist. You can only submit, obey.” “Yes.” “Is there a paradox in that?” “A paradox?” “Yes. In the light of what you have just told me about your feelings on different levels. Think about it.” Now, Kat understood…and did not need to think about it. She had considered the implications of what Madam SIN was suggesting countless times as her life and experiences at Chateau Levequ unfurled. “I believe there is.” “Tell me.” “Well, because I have no will of my own here, no alternative but to obey and accept whatever is imposed on me, I can…live with what I am subjected to.” “Live with it? Be more specific, Kat.” “I mean that, what happens to me here, the things I accept and do… Well, although, as I’ve said, I loathe them on one level, on another I feel….well, sort of…fulfilled.” “As if you have discovered your true nature, your destiny?” Destiny. The word rang with bell-like clarity, seemed to penetrate Kat’s very soul. “Yes,” she answered, her voice hushed, barely audible against the backdrop of myriad night sounds from the forested mountainside beyond the balcony. The admission made her feel strangely liberated and…what?…yes, euphoric. “Brenda, some more calvados for Miss Kat, please.” Some more? Kat looked at her glass, now back in her hand, and saw that she had indeed drained it without conscious awareness. And with that discovery came the realization that, although the burgundy may not have been drugged, the calvados 31

Judith Devere

— that which had been served to Kat, at least — probably was. Nevertheless, she willingly accepted a second glass from the maid. “Thank you,” she said, raising the glass to her lips to take a generous sip. “So, to recap,” Madam SIN continued. You attribute this sea change in your attitude to matters of the flesh to…subservience?” Kat thought about the word for a moment, slowly savoring it until she realized just exactly how appropriate it was. “Yes. I could never have done the things I have been made to do here if I had not been forced. But since I have no choice, my conscience, my sense of what is or is not morally right, has no relevance or importance here.” “Thus freeing you to embrace, without guilt, every sensual experience of which your body and mind are capable.” “Well, not entirely without guilt. There are moments…” Madam SIN smiled. “Well, of course, a lifetime’s moral indoctrination is hardly likely to be totally obliterated in a few short months. But still, such guilt as you now experience…periodically…is no longer, I’m sure, of the soul crippling variety that you suffered at the beginning of your indenture?” Katrina shook her head. “No. That is true.” “And therein lies the paradox, does it not? Freedom through enslavement.” As Madam SIN’s conclusion permeated her consciousness, Kat felt dizzy, intoxicated with self discovery. “Indeed,” she whispered. Now, in this moment of absolute enlightenment, Kat understood — fully — the truth about herself. Christina SIN’s simple statement had, in an instant, untangled the anguished confusion of perceptions and emotions that had plagued her 32

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

throughout her time at Chateau Levequ. But she was allowed little opportunity to reflect on the revelation. “Yes, well…so much for the effects of imposed subservience on your previously unblemished character.” Madam SIN emphasized the word ‘unblemished’, imbuing it with more than just a hint of derision, as if to impress upon Kat just how thorough her descent into a life of debauchery had been. “But,” she continued, “things are seldom black and white in this world and sexuality is no exception. How, for instance, do you feel about the other side of the coin?” “The other side…?” “How do you feel about imposing sexual demands and humiliation; inflicting discipline as opposed to being subjected to it?” “I…don’t understand, Christina.” “Don’t you, Kat? Cast your mind back to the night Camille asked you to punish her in your quarters.” Kat gasped. “You…know about that?” “I told you, Camille has revealed everything. But I want you to tell me about it. In your own words.” Kat put down her glass. Wringing her hands together nervously in her lap, she cast an aside glance at Brenda, who was standing by the serving trolley, watching intently. “Must I? Really?” “Indeed you must, Kat. Describe the incident to me.” Kat swallowed hard. “Well,” she began, hesitantly. “Camille came to my quarters. She asked me to…punish her for taking the afternoon off without my permission, and for…for having sex without permission also.” “With Carl and Michael at Halcyon Falls.” “Yes.” “And?” “I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t care that she’d gone off to 33

Judith Devere

the Falls without asking me. And as far as her having sex without permission was concerned, I couldn’t see that I had any authority in the matter anyway.” “But she insisted.” Kat nodded. “She said that if I didn’t punish her, and you found out what she had done, she might be dealt with more severely by Ming.” “That, she most certainly would have been. Carry on. And leave nothing out. I want to know exactly what it was like; precisely how it affected you.” Kat took a deep breath. “Very well. Camille was insistent that I should punish her, and eventually I agreed…reluctantly. There was a…a hairbrush…made of ebony.” As Kat recalled the incident, the now familiar serpent of arousal stirred and began to uncoil deep in her womb. An insistent prickling sensation, moist and warm, blossomed between her thighs. She vaguely wondered to what extent the calvados was responsible for the intensity of her growing arousal. But whatever the cause, her inhibitions were melting like snow in the afternoon sun. Madam SIN said, “She took off her clothes.” Kat ran her tongue over lips that now felt parched, her mind’s eye focussing on the mental imagery recalled by her memory. “Yes.” “Go on…detail, please.” “She bent over to grip a stool with her hands, placed her feet apart so that I could see her…” Kat paused. “Her cunt.” Kat nodded, her eyes glazed now, as if fixed on some distant scene. “Yes, her…cunt. I can see her now. Her bottom, round, smooth, pleasantly plump, buttocks parted. Her ponytail hanging toward the floor over her shoulder. Her breasts, firm and full, hanging like fruit on the vine.” Kat’s words came to her now as if from the mouth of a stranger, providing confirmation, if any were 34

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

needed, that the calvados had indeed been drugged. But such was the effect of Ming’s almost magical skill in pharmacology that Kat willingly embraced its depraving effect. “And you beat her.” Kat nodded. “On the buttocks…with the hairbrush.” “How did that make you feel?” “At first, I was embarrassed, extremely uncomfortable. It was something totally alien to me, and I didn’t want to hurt her. But then she taunted me, called me a refined little rich bitch with no guts. That made me angry — furious in fact — and I laid into her. I spanked her hard with the hairbrush…very hard. She began to yelp and cry, and I watched, fascinated, as her bottom began to glow red. And all the time I could see the pink swollen lips of her…cunt…pouting between her thighs, her breasts jouncing with each blow of the hairbrush. As I beat her, my anger seemed to drain away.” “Displaced by…?” “Excitement. Intense arousal. I suddenly realized…was shocked by the fact that I was deriving pleasure from subjecting Camille to sexual humiliation and suffering.” “Power and sex can be an intoxicating combination.” “I realized that then, and it frightened me to learn that I was susceptible to it. That I could actually take pleasure from doing such a thing.” “And afterwards? The sex with Camille; how was that?” “Incredible. I had one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever experienced.” “And you attribute that to the effect that spanking Camille had on you?” Kat turned her eyes from Madam SIN’s penetrating gaze. “I’d like to be able to say no. But I can’t.” “Mm. Interesting. And how do you feel now, talking about it?” “Thinking…talking about it has…aroused me.” 35

Judith Devere

“Very much?” Kat nodded. “Very much. But I don’t know if the calvados…” Madam SIN raised a hand. “It isn’t the just calvados, Kat. Or at least not in the way you would like it to be. Yes, your drink contains one of Ming’s potions, but its purpose is not solely sexual stimulation. As important, is the fact that it suppresses your inhibitions so that you can be totally frank with me. And honest with yourself.” “But surely it isn’t just me, Christina. Wouldn’t Ming’s…potions…have the same effect on any woman?” Madam SIN smiled. “Not necessarily; it depends on the woman and her true sexuality, which often lies buried deep beneath learned taboos and imposed conventions. And you should understand, Kat, that the drug you are experiencing now hasn’t overridden your will; quite the reverse. It has allowed the real you to emerge. And the fact is, if you haven’t already realized it yourself, that you possess — or perhaps I should say that you are possessed by, a potent and ambivalent libido. You have an innate capacity to appreciate and celebrate sensuality in unusually diverse ways, almost as if you were two women in one body. Armand Levequ sensed this rare phenomenon in you long ago. He is gifted in that respect.” “I’m sorry, Christina, I don’t understand.” “No? Well, I believe we have established, or rather confirmed something significant about Katrina Mandell this evening.” Bemused, Kat shrugged, nervously smiled her unspoken query. “That you are a potential switch, my dear.” “A…switch?” “You have learned much during your time on this small island, Kat — especially about yourself. But the learning has been largely experiential. You know little or nothing of the theory, of the psychology of our little world here at Chateau 36

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Levequ. I am not particularly endeared to the labels, the terminology that has become popularly associated with the lifestyle to which I and others here have committed themselves, but they are difficult to avoid. That lifestyle, as you know, is hedonistic, sexually liberal and, to a large extent, infused with…” Madam SIN paused. “Are you familiar with the term…BDSM?” she asked, speaking the letters with an expression of mild distaste. “I can’t say that I am.” “It is an abbreviated description of a practice…or lifestyle, depending on the degree of commitment on the part of the individual concerned. It stands for Bondage, Domination and Sado-Masochism. Whether I like the label or not, it does at least describe some of the core elements of the ethos that prevails here on L’Île des Désirs. Another abbreviation: D/s, with a capital D for Dominant, and a small s for submissive. Dominant and submissive; the terms may be used both as adjectives and nouns, but we assign a capital D to the former when using the word as a noun. Most people who are in the life, as we say, fall into one category or the other. In the noun terminology, they are either a submissive or a Dominant, the one dominated, sexually and possibly in other ways also, by the other. A submissive may be submissive to a single Dominant exclusively and in an ongoing long-term relationship. Alternatively, the relationship might be random, fleeting and…promiscuous, such as your own experience here, albeit not as a lifestyle choice on your part. “There are, however, certain, relatively rare individuals, whose sexuality is ambivalent in this respect. Such individuals are psychologically and emotionally equipped to switch between the Dominant and submissive roles and feel totally natural in either. Hence the term switch.” Kat listened to Madam SIN with growing awe, tentatively recognizing as she did so the existence of yet something else 37

Judith Devere

about herself she could never have guessed at in her preindentured life. Now she gave substance to that recognition with a rhetorical question. “You believe I am such an individual?” “I…we all…believe it is possible; likely, even. There is only one way to find out for certain, but Armand and I have agreed that any decision to proceed along that path should be taken only with your free and unequivocal agreement. In other words, if you choose not to take that step, it will not be regarded as a breach of your indenture. You understand?” “Frankly, Christina, I don’t. I mean, what would…proceeding along that path…entail, exactly?” “It would mean tailoring the existing parameters of your indenture to broaden the nature and extent of your experience and self-exploration. In addition to your continued development in a submissive capacity, we would assess your potential to perform in a dominant role. As I have said, the decision is to be yours. I’m not asking you to make that choice yet, but if or when I do, you should be prepared to decide without hesitation.” By now, Kat was feeling uncomfortably warm and lightheaded, but how much of this was attributable to the druginfused calvados and how much to the possible prospect of being tilted into a whole new area of depravity was impossible to tell. As she was about to ask for clarification, Madam SIN continued speaking. “Right now, however, we have unfinished business to attend to.” “Unfinished business?” “Yes. You will recall that I mentioned earlier the embarrassment you caused me before Armand this morning.” “I do, but I didn’t know what you meant.” When Madam SIN arched her eyebrows dangerously, Kat hurriedly responded by saying, “But, of course, if I have offended in some way without realizing it, I’m very sorry.” 38

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Without realizing it? How could you not realize that you were on trial this morning; that your every action, every word you spoke would be a reflection on my ability to train and develop you along the lines required by Armand. At first, you did well, made me proud, in fact. Especially when you selected the pearl cat for your own punishment, knowing it would inflict more pain than any other instrument in the rack.” Kat shuddered as she recalled the agony she had experienced as Ming repeatedly laid the many leather tails of the whip across her naked body with terrible force. Each was filled with slender lead filaments, and embedded with tiny pearls to inflict optimum pain without breaking the skin. “But then,” Madam SIN continued, “when you tried to renege on your decision to continue with your indenture to Armand — pleaded almost — that gave the lie to the very reason Armand had praised you — and me for that matter — only moments earlier. That lapse on your part made me look rather foolish, Kat.” “Oh, but I didn’t mean…” Madam SIN rose from her seat. “What you meant, Kat, is immaterial. You offended…and as a result earned punishment. We will deal with that now. Come.” Kat’s spirits sank. She should not have been surprised, of course; this sudden turn of events was typical of her life here. One minute she was being feted like a privileged guest, dining with Madam SIN and engaging in interesting and enjoyable conversation; the next, cast into the role of errant schoolgirl again, to be punished for misbehavior. As she rose to follow Madam SIN indoors, she noticed that Brenda, the maid, was smiling again. But it was a sly, knowing smile, heavily laced with undisguised glee and derision. She obviously had at least some idea of what was coming, and it looked liked she relished the thought. A shroud of shame enveloped Kat, although, inevitably, 39

Judith Devere

the arousal kindled by her discussion with Madam SIN suddenly intensified. They had spoken of paradoxes; was this not the ultimate? That the threat of punishment, inevitably involving pain and humiliation, should also fire her libido? One of the two big leather chesterfield sofas stood across the room from the huge gilded mirror that covered the wall behind the desk, and it was to this that Madam SIN led Kat. Sitting in the very center of the sofa, she looked up at Kat. “Come here, Kat. Stand in front of me.” Kat stepped up to the sofa, standing about two paces from the other woman. “Now lift up your dress.” Not knowing what Madam SIN had in mind, but daring not to risk even greater punishment than was already due, Kat grasped her dress, raised the hem above her ankles. “No, no. Higher. Right up around your waist.” Kat saw now that the maid had discreetly followed them into the room and was standing by the French windows, her hands behind her back. Her posture was ostensibly respectful, but she was watching Kat with unconcealed interest. Feeling the maid’s gaze upon her, and blushing fiercely, Kat lifted her dress higher, gathering it around her waist. Ironically, although she wore stockings and white lace panties, standing like this, with her dress bunched up around her waist, she felt more embarrassed than if she had been totally nude. Another paradox. “Come closer, Kat.” As Kat stepped forward, Madam SIN reached out to seize her left wrist. The woman’s grip was surprisingly strong. Kat stumbled and lost her balance as Madam SIN pulled her toward the chesterfield. Before she had time to realize what was happening, she found herself sprawling face down over the older woman’s lap. Now she knew what form her punishment was to take; it was the classic posture, and agonizingly reminiscent of 40

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the day, many years earlier, when to her undying shame her father had spanked her on her bared buttocks for disobedience. Her obligatory description of that event to Ming soon after arriving at Chateau Levequ had been the prelude to her first shameful punishment here. In marked contrast to Madam SIN’s opulent quarters, though, that had taken place in Ming’s domain, deep in the dungeon-like cellars beneath the great house. Kat felt the blood rush to her head as it hung toward the floor, while Madam SIN deftly locked both of Kat’s wrists together in her left hand, holding them in the small of her back. Then she felt a hand on her inner thigh, the fingers caressing her flesh as it moved slowly up toward her buttocks. She shivered as a frisson of irresistible pleasure coursed through her body. Madam SIN’s hand, palm down, now slid over the flimsy lace panties that covered the twin hillocks of Kat’s upturned bottom, then gripped the waistband of the garment. Kat gasped as she felt the panties being slowly, deliberately, peeled down from her buttocks, baring her flesh to the caress of the balmy night air on their descent. She felt the material wrest free of her sex, conscious of the moist evidence of her arousal as the panties slid down her thighs and calves to her ankles, where they were left — deliberately, Kat was certain — to dangle provocatively from one foot. “You used the witch hazel lotion after your whipping this morning?” Kat nodded. “Yes, I … Aaah.” It was the unexpectedly gentle touch of Madam SIN’s fingertips on her naked buttock that evoked the whispered exclamation from Kat. The fingers moved tantalizingly over her skin, tracing the filigree left by the pearl cat earlier that day. “I thought so. The welts have already faded significantly. That lotion is truly amazing; don’t you think so, Kat?” “Yes, it…” Kat gasped, bit her lower lip as Madam SIN’s 41

Judith Devere

fingers crept between her upper thighs to briefly brush her labia before moving on again. “It…eases the pain a lot.” “True, but you are missing the point, dear. Much more important is the fact that it mitigates the damage a whipping causes. You might be surprised to learn that the lotion is another of Ming’s magical creations. Ironic, really, since it is she more often than not who inflicts the damage in the first place. Of course, she had her own agenda in developing the lotion. You see, Kat dear, its application to tender flesh renders the subject ready for further punishment so much sooner than would otherwise be the case. Clever, no?” Madam SIN withdrew her fingers, leaving Kat with a small sense of loss. “You agree that you deserve to be punished, Kat?” There could be, Kat knew, only one response to Madam SIN’s question. She nodded. “Yes, Christina.” “Ah, yes. I forgot to mention something; calling me Christina is a privilege which does not extend to occasions when you are to be subjected to discipline or punishment…such as now. At such times you will refer to me by the appropriate title. I think you know what that is, Kat?’ “Yes…Mistress.” What happened next took Kat totally by surprise. With the palm of her free hand, Madam SIN launched a sudden tirade of slaps upon Kat’s bottom. The assault stunned Kat by its ferocity and the speed with which the blows were delivered. Gulping air into her lungs, she cried out, in response to which Madam SIN increased both the force and the tempo of her punishment. Although she had been spanked before — by her father all those years earlier, and more recently by Ming — she was not prepared for this. Madam SIN was amazingly strong, her technique devastating. With unrelenting fervor, she methodically covered the entire area of Kat’s naked bottom and upper thighs 42

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

with stinging blows. Within minutes, Kat’s buttocks were aflame, the burning pain permeating deep into the soft tissue. And then, slowly, a delicious, indescribably pleasurable sensation began burgeoning deep inside her, beginning in her belly then creeping to her sex, where she felt the product of her arousal begin to ooze from the hidden spring there. But although undoubtedly sensual and stirring, this phenomenon did nothing to alleviate the agonizing fire that continued to rage across her buttocks. Reflexively, she struggled and kicked as she lay across Madam SIN’s knee, barely hearing her tormentor’s voice above the din of flesh slapping naked flesh, intermingled with her own plaintive cries. A little shortness of breath from her exertions detracted somewhat from the delivery of Madam SIN’s terse statement, but the meaning was menacingly clear. “Struggling like…that will only make your punishment…worse, my dear. Only when you…remain still…passive…will I consider ending it. So you…decide.” Tears ran hot down Kat’s cheeks, but heeding the warning she somehow managed to stop struggling, and with a supreme act of will, forced herself to lie motionless across Madam SIN’s lap as the last moments of her punishment played out. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, the silence of the night broken only by Madam SIN’s labored breathing and Kat’s sobbing as she lay draped across her tormentor’s lap like some broken erotic marionette. How long they remained like this Kat could not tell, but at last Madam SIN spoke. “How do you feel, Kat?” Kat sniffed. “It…hurts, Mistress. My bottom is on fire.” “And your…cunt?” “Aching, Mistress,” Kat replied, spilling tears onto the carpet. “A pleasant ache, though, yes? You are very aroused.” “Yes, Mistress. Aaah!” 43

Judith Devere

It was the touch of Madam SIN’s fingers on the burning flesh of her buttocks that evoked Kat’s exclamation. The sensation was exquisite, painful yet intensely arousing, as the older woman grazed her long fingernails softly over and around the glowing mounds. “Spread your legs wide for me, Kat.” Kat parted her thighs, the action forcing her to place one foot on the floor to remain in position on Madam SIN’s lap. She gasped, then moaned as the other woman’s fingers coursed with slow deliberation along the valley between her buttocks, over the tightly puckered orifice of her anus, and down to the slippery, hot divide of her sex. Kat’s cries degenerated to a long tremulous wail as Madam SIN’s fingers raked the cleft between her labia to locate the hard swollen knob of her clitoris, where their mere touch triggered eruption. Kat’s body convulsed in an explosive orgasm that seemed to last an age. Her impassioned cry of release escaped through the French windows on the still night air, startling legions of small nocturnal creatures beyond to frightened activity. When the orgasm had finally run its course, Madam SIN placed her hands on Kat’s left shoulder and right hip, turning her bodily and urging her closer until she lay cradled in her arms. Kat looked up at her through tears of pain and pleasure, and saw that she was smiling now. “There, there,” Madam SIN said, soothingly. “It’s over now. Did I hurt you very much, Kat darling?” “Yes…Mistress,” Kat sobbed. “Very…much.” “Christina.” Kat’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Your punishment is over, child. You may call me Christina again.” “Yes, Christina. Thank you.” “For what, my dear?” 44

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Ming has me thank her when she punishes me. I thought…” Still smiling, Madam SIN shook her head slowly. “Dear girl, I really do think Armand has found someone very special in you. Here.” As she spoke, Madam SIN peeled open the front of her robe to bare one beautiful naked breast, the toffee-colored nipple prominent, swollen. Taking the breast in her hand, she leaned forward, at the same time pulling Kat toward her to press the nipple to her mouth. Instinctively, Kat parted her lips, allowing the other woman to insert the nipple between them. Madam SIN sighed as Kat began to suckle at her breast. With her free hand she caressed Kat’s tears from her cheeks. And so the two women remained for several minutes, locked in an apparent mother-and-child tableau that was, in reality, an act of pure mutual erotic pleasure. At length, Madam SIN gently removed her breast from Kat’s mouth and said, hoarsely, “Kneel on the floor, Kat. Between my thighs.” Obediently, Kat got off the sofa and knelt on the floor, shuffling between Madam SIN’s thighs as she parted them. The robe fell open wide now, revealing Madam SIN’s long, tawny legs to the thigh. As Madam SIN eased forward to sit on the edge of the sofa, the garment rode up to her hips, revealing the fact that she on no underwear, and exposing her sex, from which the labia peeked from a trimmed pelt of glossy auburn hair. Poised thus, with one breast bared, thighs spread wide and her vulva presented to full view, Kat thought Madam SIN a magnificent creature. Leaning forward, the creature grasped the straps of Kat’s dress and slid them off her shoulders. The dress sloughed down to Kat’s waist, baring her breasts. Madam SIN’s eyes were glowing with amber luminescence now. “Ah, Kat. So lovely. Come to me.” As she spoke, Madam SIN reached out to Kat, placing her hands on each side of her face to gently hook the fingertips 45

Judith Devere

around the contoured ridges of her jaw beneath her earlobes. Responding to the gently insistent pressure of the other woman’s hands, Kat moved closer. Recognizing Madam SIN’s intention, Kat bowed into the V of her widespread thighs, shuddering slightly as she felt the satin caress of the older woman’s naked flesh against her shoulders. And now Madam SIN gasped as Kat’s lips brushed with butterfly delicacy against the crinkled folds of her protruding labia. “Yes, Kat. Oh, yes.” Tilting her head slightly to one side, Kat enfolded the fleshy lips within her own, sucking, tasting, gently nibbling. Christina SIN writhed in response. “Yes, yes. Aah!” Enshrouded by the heady essence of Madam SIN’s intimate aroma, the exotic taste of the woman on her tongue, Kat felt as if she were being absorbed by her. It was a delicious, dizzying feeling. Pushing her tongue deep into Madam SIN’s vulva, she felt her own sex weeping onto her thighs as the other woman’s arousal fired her own. She explored the mysterious folds and contours of Madam SIN’s sex with her questing tongue, pausing at intervals to flicker the tip across the sensitive nub of her clitoris. Now, Madam SIN had relinquished all semblance of restraint or control. Removing her hands from Kat’s face, she raised her legs from the floor, gripping her ankles and pulling her feet back to rest her heels on the edge of the chesterfield. Still working fervently with her tongue and lips at Madam SIN’s now sodden sex, Kat looked up at her and felt a surge of sheer lust at what she saw. All but naked now, the Mistress of Chateau Levequ presented an astonishing sight; her face contorted in sweet anguish, legs bent double at the knees and splayed wide in brazen abandon, her bared breasts jiggling wildly as she tossed her head from side to side in response to Kat’s unrelenting oral homage. Kat pushed her face into Madam SIN’s hungry sex, 46

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

allowing the wet slippery folds to almost engulf her. Moving her head around and from side to side, lapping eagerly with her tongue, she drove the woman to the brink of no return. Suddenly, Madam SIN tensed, stiffened. Releasing her ankles and stretching her arms out along the back of the sofa, she dug desperate fingers into the antique leather and threw back her head as she screamed in orgasm. Unlike Kat’s cry of release only minutes earlier, this was a savage, guttural sound; brutally carnal. It took several minutes for Madam SIN to return to normality, a period during which she lay back on the chesterfield, her eyes half closed, her breasts rising and falling to labored breathing. The beatific smile on her lips told of the exquisite pleasure she had derived from Kat’s attentions. When at last she had recovered fully, she looked down at Kat with fondness. “You did that…” she sighed “…very well, Kat. “Very well…indeed.” Kat smiled, feeling strangely gratified, proud almost. “I’m glad I was able to please you, Christina.” “Oh, you did, my dear.” Madam SIN leaned forward to gently wipe Kat’s still glistening mouth and face with her fingers. It was another mother-andchild-like gesture that, surprisingly, did not feel incongruous to Kat. “But tell me, Kat, did you notice Brenda at all when you were being punished?” As it happened, Kat had caught glimpses of the maid several times, both before and during her punishment. Still kneeling between Madam SIN’s thighs, she turned to look at Brenda again. “Yes, Christina, I did.” Looking uncomfortable now, the maid turned her gaze away from the other two women. “Tell me what you saw.” 47

Judith Devere

“While you were…spanking me, she…” Kat paused. “Go on. What?” “Well, I think she was enjoying it. She kept smirking.” “And how did that make you feel?” “Embarrassed. Ashamed. It was…demeaning.” “And she, a mere maid. Don’t you think that she should be punished for such behavior?” The question instantly drew Brenda’s attention back to Madam SIN. Kat turned her own gaze back on Madam SIN, wondering where this was leading. “Christina?” “Well, your status is well above that of the servants here. If you feel that you have been slighted, you might…want to punish her?” Kat thought about this suggestion. Was it what Madam SIN wanted, expected from her? For her own part, while it was true that she had felt demeaned and embarrassed by Brenda’s response to her humiliation, she had experienced that sort of reaction from the servants here on numerous occasions before; this really seemed no different. And yet, given the conversation at dinner, she wondered if Madam SIN might be putting her to some kind of test again. If so, she certainly didn’t want fail; it seemed that she had just attained improved status at Chateau Levequ, and whatever that entailed she didn’t want to risk losing it. She decided to accept the challenge, if that was what it was. “I believe so, Christina, yes.” “Then I leave the matter in your hands.” “Her punishment?” “Why not?” Madam SIN smiled archly, then added, “After all, you have some experience; Camille, remember?” “I… Yes. But when should…” “Why right now, of course. I want to see how you deal with her. You might want to…adjust your dress first, though” 48

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat had almost forgotten. She glanced down at her naked breasts, her dress in disarray. “Yes, Christina, of course.” She rose from the floor, trying to imbue some small modicum of dignity in the act of pulling up her panties again as she did so. She slipped the straps of her dress back up onto her shoulders to cover her breasts, and smoothed down the skirt, but then was quite at a loss as to what, precisely, she should do next. “The cabinet, Kat?”

Of course, the cabinet.

Kat turned to face the maid again, conscious now that Madam SIN would be appraising the way she handled the woman’s punishment. “Brenda,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with what she hoped sounded like authority. Apparently, it did because the maid seemed startled. “Yes, Ma’am?” “You were paying attention, I suppose? You heard what Madam SIN and I were discussing just now?” Gone now was the sly mockery from the maid’s eyes, supplanted by uncertainty and trepidation. She nodded hesitantly. “I…heard, Ma’am, yes.” “Dumb insolence is no less serious an offence than spoken insult. You realize that, I hope?” Brenda lowered her head in a gesture of contrition. “Ma’am, yes. I am so sorry. I apologize. It was very wrong of me. Please forgive me, it will never happen again.” After a moment, Kat said, “I accept your apology, Brenda.” The maid uttered an audible sigh of relief at Kat’s clearly unexpected response. In stark contrast, however, Madam SIN’s expression darkened threateningly. Kat, conscious of both reactions, allowed herself the self-indulgent luxury of an inward smile. “And I’m sure it will never happen again,” she added. “But I have in mind something to make sure that you remember and remain true to that undertaking.” Kat turned her head, glancing 49

Judith Devere

at the big oak cabinet that stood against the wall opposite the French windows. “Go and open the cabinet, Brenda.” The maid’s eyes widened with immediate understanding. “Oh, please, Ma’am…please don’t. I have apologized. I’ll never ever do anything to offend you again, I swear it.” “Go and open the cabinet,” Kat repeated, delivering the order in even, measured tones. Madam SIN’s lips twitched in an ephemeral smile as she seemed to realize that Kat was not to be dissuaded by Brenda’s pleas. The maid began to walk with obvious reluctance toward the cabinet. “Do not dawdle, girl,” Kat snapped, ignoring the fact that Brenda was her senior in years if not in status. Kat barely registered slight tilting of Madam SIN’s head in approval. Indeed, Madam SIN’s approval was, for the moment at least, no longer uppermost in her mind, having been temporarily eclipsed by the heady experience of her power over the maid. Although no stranger to absolute authority since she had come to Chateau Levequ, Kat was used to being subjected to, rather than exercising it. This sudden role reversal was both exhilarating and, in the growing knowledge of what she was about to do to the luckless maid, arousing also. Brenda had reached the cabinet. With trembling fingers she began to slowly open the double doors. Although, Kat presumed, Brenda must know what lay beyond the doors, she nevertheless gasped as they swung open wide to reveal the cabinet’s ominous contents. There, held by brackets as in a museum display, was a diverse array of instruments designed for inflicting punishment: whips, birches, leather tawses, paddles and a whole range of other fiendish looking contrivances, some of which Kat herself had not yet experienced. It was from among this exotic collection that Kat had selected the implement of her own punishment earlier that day — the exquisitely painful pearl cat. Now she was 50

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

about to make a similar choice on the maid’s behalf. “Do you see the rattan cane, Brenda? There on the right hand side, near the top.” The maid’s eyes scanned the cabinet, her mouth dropping open in alarm as her gaze came to rest upon the object Kat had mentioned. Unlike many of the other implements in the cabinet, there was nothing ornate or fancy about the slender cane which, although Kat did not know it, had in less ‘enlightened’ Victorian times been the instrument of chastisement at a French colonial prison. “Bring it to me.” “Oh, please, Ma’am, no. I beg you.” “Mistress!” The sheer power of the word as she spoke it in her own behalf took Kat by surprise, triggering a surge of adrenaline. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the maid replied anxiously as she realized the implication of Kat’s assumption of the title. “I mean, Mistress. Please don’t, Mistress. Give me another chance. If I ever misbehave again you can cane me as hard as you like; I won’t complain. But this time… Please…I didn’t realize…” A strange transformation had come over Kat; in only a few minutes she had become the Mistress, her mind vividly reprising the many lurid exchanges she had witnessed and experienced, both at the chateau and aboard the Aphrodite, the beautiful restored 19th century barquentine that had brought her to L’Île des Désirs. And as if this were not fuel enough for Kat’s sudden, if temporary, evolution from subservient to Mistress, the distressed maid’s pitiful pleas served only to reinforce her occupation of that role. “Are you disobeying me?” “No, Mistress. Really. It’s just that…” “I had it in mind to give you only six strokes, but your tardiness in obeying me has now earned you a dozen. Bring me 51

Judith Devere

the cane. At once!” Tears glistened in Brenda’s eyes as she hurriedly removed the cane from the cabinet and brought it to Kat. Although the entreaty in her pale green eyes was eloquent enough, she said nothing. Kat took the cane from Brenda, bent it in her hands to test its flexibility. Then she slashed it experimentally through the air in a wide, hissing arc, the maid wincing reflexively. Kat looked at her. “Take off your clothes.” Apparently resigned to her fate now, Brenda began removing her maid’s uniform with trembling fingers. Both Kat and Madam SIN watched with growing interest as she took off her white lace apron, then began unbuttoning the black short sleeved dress. Soon, both were lying on the floor, leaving the maid’s slender boyish figure attired only in a brassiere and a minuscule thong that displayed her firmly rounded buttocks to splendid advantage. She wore no stockings. Deftly unclasping her bra, she slipped it off to reveal petite but shapely breasts surmounted by rose pink nipples. Next, she slipped her thumbs into the sides of the thong and stooped to slide it down long, long legs to the floor. In one movement, she stepped out of both the thong and her shoes, then turned to look diffidently at Kat. As she swept her gaze over the now naked maid, Kat was reminded of Anne Novak, the beautiful former Olympic gymnast who had escorted her from Rylands on the beginning of her eventful journey to this island just a few short months earlier. Anne had been Kat’s first ever female lover, and the sight of Brenda, standing nude before her now, rekindled the arousal she had experienced then. Perversely, the fact that she was about to inflict pain and humiliation on this woman somehow contrived to intensify that arousal. “Bring that chair over here.” As she spoke, Kat pointed with the cane at an antique ladder backed chair that was set against the wall by the French windows. When Brenda had brought the 52

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

chair, Kat took it from her and placed it about eight feet from the chesterfield, facing Madam SIN. With an odd glint in her eyes, she said, “Now, Brenda, you are to stand in front of the chair, your back to Madam SIN and facing the mirror.” When the maid had taken up this position, she added, “Now place your feet apart and bend forward to rest your forearms on the back of the chair.” As the maid obeyed this last instruction, Madam SIN smiled again. It was now apparent what Kat’s purpose was. Kat had positioned Brenda in the optimum stance to be observed throughout her punishment. Leaning over the chair thus, the smooth, pale globes of her buttocks presented a perfect target for the cane, while between her parted thighs her vulva, plump and smoothly shaven, was fully exposed. Kat had placed Brenda so that, as she applied the cane, both she and Madam SIN would have a perfect view of Brenda’s buttocks and sex, while at the same time being able to observe the maid’s facial response to her punishment from her reflection in the huge mirror that covered the opposite wall. It was to that end that Kat now said, “Keep your head up and face the mirror at all times, Brenda.” Obediently, the maid raised her head to look into the mirror. The sight of her own face reflected there seemed to strengthen her resolve somewhat, and her expression firmed in a plucky attempt to assume an air of determination and dignity. But Kat had been in Brenda’s predicament countless times, and knew she would not be able to maintain the pretence for long. “Are you ready, Brenda?” she asked. At the risk of losing her newly acquired dignity, the maid tried one last appeal. “Please, Mistress, I…” “Brenda!” “I’m sorry. Yes, Mistress. I’m…ready. But please don’t hurt me too much. Please. I… Ayyyiieee!” 53

Judith Devere

Brenda’s eyes snapped open wide, her buttocks clenching reflexively as Kat delivered a sudden and powerful stroke of the cane across them. Almost at once, a livid pink weal sprang to life on the pale, vulnerable flesh. “Since this punishment is for your own good,” Kat observed, remembering one of the degrading rituals to which Ming had introduced her, “you will thank me as you count each stroke.” Brenda took a deep breath, her voice quavering and thick with pain as she answered, “Yes…Mistress. Aaah. Th…thank you…Mistress.” “Number?” “Yes.” Brenda bit her lower lip. “One, Mistress. Thank you.” The maid’s features contorted in fearful anticipation as she watched Kat’s reflection draw back the cane again. At the second stroke, her expression dissolved into one of shock and anguish. “Oooohhh,” she wailed. “Oh, it hurts so.” “Memory slipping already, Brenda?” Kat asked. “Do you want a few more strokes added to the total?” “No! I…I’m s...sorry, Mistress. Mistress…two. Thank you, Mistress.” Kat delivered the next few strokes in rapid succession, causing the maid to squeal repeatedly as vivid pink stripes lined up across her buttocks. By the seventh stroke Brenda was sobbing uncontrollably between her screams. By contrast, Kat was acutely aroused, her sex tingling and oozing fluid like hot lava from a simmering volcano. She watched the welts appear on Brenda’s lovely rounded buttocks, listened to her cries of pain and pleas for mercy with intense excitement. After the ninth stroke, Kat paused. Moving close up behind the maid, she reached out to touch her buttocks, running her fingers over the angry welts to read by touch the history of her punishment thus far, as a blind woman might read an erotic story in Braille. Brenda gasped at Kat’s touch, then threw back her 54

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

head and moaned as Kat’s fingers delved between her buttocks, sliding down toward her vulva. “Aaah. Ooh, Mistress, please…” The maid tensed, squirmed as Kat eased a questing finger between her labia. “As I thought; for all your pleading and crying and screaming, you are very aroused.” Brenda shook her head emphatically. “No, Mistress. No, really, I…” Lubricated by the maid’s own secretion, Kat’s fingers raked Brenda’s fleshy divide, grazing her clitoris in the process. “Oooohhh.” Brenda’s legs buckled at the knees as, without warning, Kat slipped two fingers deep into her vulva. “My goodness, Brenda, you are very wet,” Kat taunted. “You must dearly enjoy pain and humiliation.” “Ooohh. No, Mistress. Please I… Oooh” The maid writhed in response to the audacious exploration, her thighs and calves trembling as Kat’s delving fingers turned this way and that in the confines of her sex. By now Kat was entirely lost in her role, and as close to orgasm herself as the wretched maid seemed to be. “So how am I to punish you effectively when degradation and physical anguish seem to be the very source of your arousal?” Pushing herself backwards, the more firmly to impale herself upon Kat’s probing fingers, Brenda simply groaned in response to the question. “There is only one thing for it,” Kat continued. “I suppose I shall have to upgrade the intensity of your caning so that the pain consumes the pleasure.” As she spoke, Kat withdrew her fingers from Brenda’s mellifluent sex, prompting a pitiable cry of loss from the maid. Whether Brenda had been so lost in sexual abandon that she had not heard or understood Kat’s threat was not clear, but she certainly appeared not to be aware of its implications. Turning 55

Judith Devere

her head to one side, she laid her face upon her arms, which still rested on the chair back, apparently oblivious to how provocative a sight she presented to the other two women. Her parted legs were now straight again, locked at the knees, her upper body horizontal, bowed from the hip. This posture, as well as offering a magnificent display of her pouting sex, emphasized both the prominence of her shapely breasts as they hung beneath her, and the delightfully rounded contours of her buttocks, which now positively glowed. Kat, however, did not permit her to retain this complacent attitude for long. As she laid the cane across the maid’s bottom with twice the force she had previously used, a shriek of anguish filled the room. Every muscle in Brenda’s body seemed to stiffen in response to the violent stroke of the cane. Her head snapped up and she stared at her own reflection in the mirror, her mouth open wide, her brow furrowed in exquisite anguish. And even before the unearthly cry had died, Kat struck again…and again. By the time she had delivered the twelfth and final stroke of the cane, the maid had sunk to her knees on the carpet, her body convulsing in uncontrollable sobbing. Kat looked down at the hapless naked servant; at her ravaged buttocks, no longer smooth and pale, but flushed rose-pink overall and overlain by a latticework of deeper hued welts. Catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror, Kat saw that her face was flushed, both with effort and — she could not deny it — profound sexual exhilaration. She looked down at her hands, saw that they were trembling. Her breathing was labored, rapid. On the very brink of orgasm, she felt more alive than ever before, as if she were experiencing the most euphoric drug known to mankind. And what met her gaze when she turned to look at Madam SIN all but pushed her over the edge. The Mistress of Chateau Levequ lay back against the chesterfield with her buttocks on the very edge. Her gown still lay open at the front, revealing her breasts, which she was feverishly kneading 56

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

and squeezing in turn, as well as pinching the nipples. But only one hand was engaged in this process; the other lay between her widespread thighs, where her fingers were strumming the glistening divide of her sex with frenzied enthusiasm. Her eyes were half closed, her features contorted in that perverse ambiguity of expression that, paradoxically, serves equally to express both agony and ecstasy. But as Kat’s eyes met Madam SIN’s — and as if that were the catalyst — the older woman smiled, gasped and then groaned in what was clearly exquisite release. For a while, none of the three women in the room made any significant movement, save for the motion of Madam SIN’s fingers, which lessened in time with the recession of her orgasm. When this had fully run its course, Madam SIN loosed a long sigh. Then, drawing her robe together, she eased herself back into a normal sitting position on the chesterfield as if nothing had happened. She looked meaningfully at Kat now. “That was very…impressive, my dear. I felt sure we were not wrong about you, and I cannot imagine a more appropriate moment to ask you to make the decision we spoke of earlier. You have recently passed the halfway point of your indenture to Armand Levequ, and there yet remains much for you to experience and learn. Your remaining time here will naturally be more demanding and challenging if you decide to extend your existing regimen to exploring and developing the dominant aspect of your sexuality, but the choice is yours, Kat. Now…do you wish it?” Kat had not expected the question to be asked so soon, and for an instant her thoughts were cast into disarray by it. But then Madam SIN’s ominous directive leapt into her mind — You should be prepared to decide without hesitation. It was a critical moment and Kat somehow sensed that the course of her life thereafter would depend on the answer she gave. In the rational 57

Judith Devere

light of day, unaffected by her present emotional turmoil and raging sexual arousal, she would have found the task daunting in the extreme. As it was, the words spilled from her lips reflexively, as if they had been waiting there indefinitely for the catalyst of Madam SIN’s question; perhaps they had. “Yes, Christina. I do wish it.” Madam SIN smiled. “So be it. And now…I dare say you are in dire need of release?” For once, Kat had no difficulty in admitting her carnal hunger. Running her tongue moistly over her lips, she answered, “Desperately.” Madam SIN nodded. “Then why don’t you take Brenda back to your quarters? Keep her for the night.”

58

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Four

K

at made Brenda, still entirely nude, walk several paces in front of her as they made their way through the labyrinth of corridors toward Kat’s suite at the rear of the chateau. Passing several servants of both sexes along the way, she wondered how these encounters made the naked maid feel. She remembered her own experiences of being humiliated in this way, the feeling of shame inextricably intertwined with womb churning arousal. As they climbed a stairway, Kat focused on the maid’s lovely rounded buttocks, just inches from her face now. Flushed deep pink, and striped with the darker prominent wheals that Kat herself had inflicted with the cane, their prospect unaccountably evoked in her a pang of arousal that was almost painful in its intensity. She reached out, touching the hot flesh, once again running her fingers over the welts. “Aah!” The maid tensed, her buttocks clenching involuntarily. Kat smiled. “You should be caned more often, Brenda. The visual effect is delightful. It becomes you.” As she spoke, another voice — that of her increasingly familiar alter ego — sought silent confirmation in her head. Was it really she who had just

uttered this outrageous observation? And was it really she, too, who just a few minutes earlier had derived such powerful sensual gratification from caning and debasing this woman? But these

questions were rhetorical; the fire that still burned, raged, in 59

Judith Devere

Kat’s loins left no room for doubt in the matter. And without actually articulating the words in her mind, she realized, partly understood, the phenomenon. The drugged calvados, her cumulative experiences in the service of Armand Levequ, the freeing of her own previously repressed instincts and desires — all had combined to trigger her metamorphosis from the naïve and wholesome Katrina, to the dissolute and wanton creature Christina SIN had now redesignated Kat. Here was yet another example of what she had come to think of as the Jeckyll and Hyde syndrome. And in keeping with Stevenson’s original, her profligate Madam Hyde character seemed to be growing increasingly dominant over the prim Miss Jeckyll. But although these unbeckoned thoughts flickered briefly through Kat’s consciousness, she was in no mood for philosophical introspection. It was sheer, unbridled lust that was driving her now. “Wait,” she said, as they reached the plateau of a midfloor landing on the stairs. Brenda turned to look over her shoulder at Kat, an unspoken query in her eyes. “Down on the floor,” Kat ordered. “On your hands and knees.” A moment’s confused hesitation on Brenda’s part earned her a sudden and violent slap on her already tender buttocks from Kat. With a yelp of pain, the startled maid dropped to her knees then leaned forward into the all-fours position on the thick piled burgundy carpet. Kat lifted her dress and hurriedly removed her panties. Then, moving to the bottom of the next upward flight of stairs, she sat on the third step up, but kept her feet on the landing. Brazenly hauling her dress up over her thighs, she leaned back against the stairs, spreading her legs wide to fully expose her sex to the maid’s awed gaze. “Come, Brenda, you want to please me, don’t you?” 60

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

The wide-eyed maid swallowed hard. “Why…yes, of course…Mistress.” “Then you know what to do.” So saying, Kat slid a hand down over her naked thigh to her sex, and spreading her fingers wide across the glistening cleft, parted the labia. As Brenda stared incredulously at the prospect of Kat’s now gaping vulva, her expression evolved from one of submissive anxiety to something more feral. A spark of light began to kindle in her eyes, turning them from pale green to a deeper, smoldering emerald. Insinuating her body between Kat’s widespread legs, she bowed low from the waist to shrug each of her shoulders in turn under Kat’s thighs. Her face now just inches from Kat’s protruding labia, the maid inhaled deeply through flared nostrils, as if savoring the heady scent of musk. She raised her eyes to meet Kat’s gaze, holding it as she eased closer. Kat spread her thighs even wider, bit her lower lip and shivered as Brenda’s lips brushed her labia. “Yes, Brenda,” Kat whispered, hoarsely. “Do it.” The maid’s lips parted fractionally, freeing a delicate pink tongue to snake between the darker lips of Kat’s sex. Kat groaned as the probing tongue stirred the extremities of her sex, then slid deeper, the tip flicking at her clitoris enroute. She reached out, grasped Brenda’s hair and pulled the maid’s face against her vulva. Brenda responded by taking the swollen flaps of flesh into her mouth, sucking and grazing them with her teeth. “Oh, God, yes!” Kat cried. “Yes, Brenda, fuck me with your tongue.” In response, Brenda thrust her tongue deep into the folds of Kat’s sex, and began to move her head back and forth in strict compliance with the order. Kat writhed, squirmed against the maid’s mouth, at the same time reaching for the straps of her own dress and wrenching them down to free her breasts again. Eagerly grasping and kneading the firm mounds of flesh, she 61

Judith Devere

spurred the maid’s attentions to her sex on by kicking her heels against the small of her back in much the same way she might a horse. The inevitable orgasm that was burgeoning inexorably inside Kat might well have been deferred for several more minutes but for the fact that she suddenly became aware of another presence on the landing. From the top of the lower flight of stairs, through a gap in the balustrade, a pair of dark brown, almost black eyes were watching the celebration of unfettered lust that was unfolding just a few feet away. Although Kat could not fully see the caramel skinned face of their owner, she knew at once that the observer was none other than her former maid, Camille. The exquisite sensations wrought by Brenda’s busy tongue in the depths of Kat’s sex intensified with this knowledge, tilting her into sudden and violent climax. At the height of her orgasm, the lighting on the stairway seemed to dim, and she teetered giddily on the brink of consciousness.

62

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Five

W

hen she awoke the next morning, Kat was doubly surprised to discover not only that it was not yet eight o’clock, but that she felt fresh and thoroughly rested, despite the drug heightened carnal excesses of the previous night. Brenda and Camille were no longer with her, having stolen away back to the servant’s quarters just before dawn. But that they had been here in her bed with her was evident enough; the silk sheets were still damp and redolent with the exotic mingled aroma of their shared arousal. Kat’s sudden hunger for the beautiful mulatto had temporarily repressed the resentment she had harbored since discovering that Camille had so recently betrayed her, and within minutes of the encounter on the stairway landing all three women had been reveling in frenzied sexual abandon in Kat’s bedroom. But now that she looked back on the lurid events of just a few hours earlier, Kat realized that, in contrast with her previous lovemaking with Camille, there had been little or no tenderness on her own part. Indeed, she had maintained throughout with Camille the same aggressively dominant demeanor to which she had already subjected Brenda, demanding and taking from both women what she desired for her own sexual gratification. But neither Camille nor Brenda seemed to mind — quite the contrary, in fact, both had willingly submitted to Kat’s seemingly 63

Judith Devere

insatiable demands. But if Camille had allowed herself to believe that absolute subservience was enough to earn Kat’s forgiveness, she had seriously misjudged her situation. At this thought, the sliver of a smile twitched momentarily at the corners of Kat mouth, then was gone. A deliciously warm breeze soughing through the bedroom lured Kat from her reverie. She rose from her bed and, without bothering to put on a robe, walked to the open French windows and stepped out onto the balcony. Being naked in the open air was a sensual pleasure she had discovered here on this island, and the thought that she might now have some unseen observer only added to that pleasure. The sky was azure blue, a few ragged wraiths of cloud clinging obstinately to the crooked volcanic peaks that soared skyward in the distance. Luxuriating in the sun’s warmth, she leaned on the balcony rail enjoying the vista that lay before her. Although situated at the rear of the chateau and lacking sea views, her suite nevertheless offered a wonderful outlook toward the central highlands of the island. Directly beneath her lay the gardens and ornamental lake, beside which alfresco dining was a regular feature for Cristina SIN and her guests when weather conditions permitted. Beyond the rear gardens, among stands of mature trees, was the plantation where fruits and vegetables were grown and harvested. And Kat could just make out among the trees the gray stonework of the stables and smithy beyond. Behind that structure, the jungle wilderness took over, studded with clusters of palms and rising over undulating hillsides and deep ravines to the bare rock pinnacles that dominated the skyline. Kat’s eyes were drawn back to the stables by the distant sound of metal striking metal. Jacob, his black muscular torso no doubt gleaming with perspiration, was already at work. The thought triggered the familiar prickling sensation between Kat’s thighs. Time to shower… When she had showered and dressed, Kat made her way 64

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

down to the dining room on the first floor at the front of the chateau. As was customary on fine mornings such as this, breakfast was served on the expansive balcony beyond the open French windows. There were already two people at breakfast as Kat stepped out into the sunlight; Vladimir Romanoff and Frederique, facing each other across a long rectangular breakfast table, were engaged in earnest conversation. As Kat approached, Frederique turned to look at her and smiled a smile that would have melted an ice sculpture in an instant. “Good morning, chérie.” “Hello, Kat,” Vladimir said, following his companion’s gaze. “Fully recovered, I trust?” Romanoff’s use of her sobriquet, ordained by Madam SIN only the previous evening, took Kat by surprise. Apparently noticing this, Frederique added, “Christina has given instructions that you are to be addressed as Kat from now on. I must say, I like the name; it suits you somehow.” “From my schooldays.” “So I understand. Join us?” “Yes, do join us, Kat,” Romanoff said. “Here, by me.” “Thank you,” Kat replied, taking the chair he had indicated immediately on his left. A black female servant came to the table as Kat sat down. “What can I get you, Miss?” “Thank you. I’ll have some orange juice, please. And coffee; strong, black.” “And to eat?” “Can you manage a salmon omelet and some whole wheat toast?” The servant smiled. “Certainly, Miss.” As the servant left the table, Frederique said, “You didn’t answer Vladimir’s question, Kat.” “Mm?” Kat murmured absently. The reason she had not 65

Judith Devere

responded to Romanoff was her preoccupation with Frederique herself. In fact, Kat had been fascinated by the beautiful Thai since the day they first met. The incongruous accent — a legacy of her French upbringing and education at Armand Levequ’s expense — served only to reinforce that fascination. Always pleasing to the eye, Frederique looked especially attractive this morning. The halter top of the pantsuit she wore left her shoulders and slender arms bare, thereby emphasizing the dramatic contrast between pristine white silk and skin that was the color of bittersweet dark chocolate. Momentarily mesmerized by the woman’s exquisite beauty, Kat thought, not for the first time, that she had never met a woman of such poise and perfect elegance. As on the occasion of their first meeting, the blue-black hair was drawn back in a chignon, displaying to optimum advantage the fine bone structure of her face. Frederique laughed, as if she might have recognized Kat’s predicament. “Vladimir is still waiting for an answer to his question.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kat said, wrenching her gaze from Frederique to Romanoff. “I didn’t quite catch…” As the sentence stalled, Frederique came to Kat’s rescue. “He asked if you had fully recovered.” Glancing briefly at Romanoff, she added, “From your experiences yesterday morning, I presume he means.” Now that she heard the question properly — and saw the gleam of satirical humor in Romanoff’s eyes, Kat felt her cheeks flush hot. “Oh.” She broke free of his gaze to look down at the table instead. “Yes. Thank you. I’m still a little…tender, but nothing serious.” “I’m surprised,” Romanoff said. “What with Jacob and the treatment Ming meted out to you, I would have thought a few days’ recuperation would have been necessary.” 66

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat almost smiled at the irony of Romanoff’s observation, as she recalled her experiences of the previous evening, first at Madam SIN’s hands then later with Brenda and Camille. The thought bolstered her confidence. “One of the many things I have learned here is the incredible ability of the human body to restore itself after superficial physical abuse.” Romanoff laughed at this. “By God,” he barked, “superficial physical abuse. Did you hear that, Freddy? She sounded for all the world like Ming, then. The girl really is learning.” Now Kat permitted herself the smile she had suppressed a moment earlier. “I hope I am a promising student.” “Undoubtedly,” Frederique answered, fixing Kat with the intensity of her onyx almond eyes. “I have observed your progress closely, and the transformation is remarkable. You are no longer the same person who arrived on this island just a few months ago, I think.” Kat was startled at Frederique’s insight. It was as if the other woman were privy to her own private thoughts concerning the emotional and psychological metamorphosis she had undergone here; thoughts that surfaced repeatedly throughout each passing day. “I agree,” Romanoff said. “And I have to say that I have seldom found training any woman so rewarding. You have all the makings, Kat.” Just as Kat was about to risk an enquiry as to exactly what Romanoff thought she had all the makings of, the servant returned with a jug of orange juice and a coffee pot. First setting down the orange juice, she began to pour Kat’s coffee. “Your omelet and toast will be just a minute, Miss,” the young woman said. Then, addressing Frederique and Romanoff, she asked, “Can I bring you anything more, Ma’am; Sir?” Frederique shook her head. “No, thank you, Lucy.” 67

Judith Devere

“Not for me,” Romanoff answered, rising from his chair. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have a scenario to get on with. Christina and the guests will be back within the week and I want make sure everyone knows exactly what’s expected of them.” “Of course, Vladimir. Will we see you at dinner?” “Probably not. I’ll be working from the village for the next couple of days at least; probably well into the night, so it will be more convenient to eat and sleep there also.” Frederique said, “Ah, you are such a perfectionist, Vladimir. So dedicated.” Romanoff grinned. “Aren’t we all, though? Isn’t that why we are here?” “Indeed. Anyway, I hope all goes well with the scenario.” “It will, as long as everyone follows my directions. Have a good day, ladies.” “Au revoir, Vladimir.” As Romanoff walked off toward the house, Frederique raised a slender arm to point out across the bay. “Look, Kat, the Aphrodite. Doesn’t she look splendid?” Kat turned to look out over the balustrade. The view from the first floor balcony never failed to thrill her. Beyond the sweeping formal gardens that bounded the front of the chateau, the mountainside fell away steeply in verdant folds of tropical forest to the bay far below. There, in the course of departing from the island, the beautiful tall masted sailing ship that had brought her here was scything a course through aquamarine waters under full sail. Heeling against the wind and already making good headway, the barquentine appeared still tenuously connected by its wake to the broad stone quay, creating the illusion that, inexplicably, it was straining at the leash to escape this Caribbean paradise. In exquisite contrast with the sparking blue waters of the bay, the island’s mountainous reaches on either side seemed to glow, lustrous green in the intensity of the ascending sun. 68

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Christina is on board,” Frederique said. “She is going to meet our next guests personally, and will accompany them back to the island by way of a short cruise; they are among the most honored of Armand’s acquaintances, you see. In her absence, as always, I shall assume her responsibilities…which means that we should have a little more time to become better acquainted.” Without at first consciously realizing why, this information sparked a little frisson of excitement in Kat. And then she remembered the occasion when, on this very balcony, Frederique had given her a fleeting parting kiss on the mouth with a promise — “Be patient, chérie. Our time will come.” When the maid brought Kat’s breakfast, Frederique sat back in her chair to watch with interest as Kat ate. “You really are all right, chérie?” Kat paused, noting what seemed like genuine concern in the other woman’s eyes. “Really. Thank you, Frederique.” Frederique smiled. “I’m glad.” “I had dinner with Madam… With Cristina last evening.” “I know. She told me all about it.” “All?” Kat shifted uncomfortably in her chair as random scenes from the events of the previous evening flashed through her mind like clips from a movie. “Of course; Ming and Vladimir also. We are all briefed daily on your experiences and progress; in considerable detail.” “Oh. I see.” Kat broke eye contact with Frederique, wondering how it was possible to feel embarrassed by information such as this when Frederique had witnessed, firsthand, her humiliation, sexual exploitation and degrading punishment on numerous occasions. But embarrassed she was, and the fact did not escape her companion’s notice. Frederique laughed lightly — a delicious sound that reminded Kat of the ring of fine crystal. But there was neither mockery nor derision in her laughter; on the contrary, there was 69

Judith Devere

something oddly comforting, reassuring, about it. “That knowledge should not trouble you, chérie. You should know by now that you can have no secrets here. And do not worry that anyone will think any the less of you because of the experiences you undergo. Quite the opposite; we observe your development fondly, and with satisfaction.” “So you know about Brenda, also.” “Of course…and what happened later in your quarters with both Brenda and Camille. You had quite an evening, Kat.” Now, as she made this last observation, Frederique allowed both her tone and smile to convey just a whisper of good-natured mockery. Despite Frederique’s reassurances and her own reasoning, Kat’s smile in response was self conscious and accompanied by a warm flush of blood to her cheeks. Frederique laughed again at her reaction. “I love it when you blush like that. You know, one of your principal charms is your capacity to indulge in acts of wanton abandon and debauchery, and yet still retain the quality of appearing demure, staid even, afterwards.” “It isn’t an act, Frederique. It’s how I really am; how I feel. I don’t understand it myself, unless it’s the wine — you know, the drugs that Ming concocts? I wondered if that’s what makes me behave so shamefully; that and the fact that I know I have no choice. Of course, I know that’s not strictly true, that I do have a choice and can leave here any time I want to…in theory. But morally, I have no alternative other than to remain here and do what is demanded of me.” “Morally? Because of your father, you mean?” Kat nodded. “I couldn’t let him go to prison. It would kill him, I’m sure.” Frederique leaned forward in her chair, reached out to place her hand on top of Kat’s. “You are confused, chérie, but you will 70

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

come to accept the reality of your situation in time, I am sure. For now, if it helps, by all means attribute both your conduct and your ambivalent feelings to blackmail and drugs. If you can accept your fate in the belief that you have no choice, then cling to that belief. But try not to feel shame at the things demanded of you, no matter how salacious they seem to you now. As beauty is said to be in the eye of the beholder, so morality is a perception of the mind, and minds are largely influenced by popular convention. In the world of Armand Levequ, such convention as exists does not coincide with that of the outside world, as you have seen.” “Will there be anything else, Miss?” So absorbed was she in what Frederique was saying, Kat had barely noticed the reappearance of the female servant at the table. “No. Thank you.” “We’re finished, Lucy,” Frederique confirmed. Then, to Kat as the servant withdrew, “Do you have any plans for today?” “No. I hadn’t thought about it.” “Would you like to go for a ride; a journey of discovery?” “With you?” “If you are not too…tender for the saddle.” “No, I’ll be all right. Really. I’d love to ride with you.” “Good. I’ll change and see you at the stables in, say, twenty minutes?” **** As Kat approached the arched stone gateway to the stable complex her heart began to pound like the blacksmith’s hammer that rang from within. Although she had known the moment was inevitable, the prospect of meeting face to face with Jacob again was daunting. How would she react — how would he react — 71

Judith Devere

after their joint performance of unbridled carnality under the gaze of Christina SIN and the others yesterday morning? As she entered the cobbled courtyard the first thing she saw was the object of her concern. Déja vu — almost — not quite the real thing, but close. The blacksmith seemed to be in exactly the same position, doing exactly the same thing as the moment in which she had first set eyes on him. Stripped to the waist, his back to her, Jacob was hammering a red-hot horseshoe on an anvil. The clang of metal on metal rang deafeningly in her ears as she walked up behind him. And, as on the occasion of their first meeting, he suddenly stopped, and as if possessed of some sixth sense, turned to face her. His dark eyes transfixed her, and she felt suddenly faint, the moment seeming to last interminably. Then he smiled. It was, Kat thought, an uncharacteristically diffident smile, infused with what appeared to be embarrassment. “Good morning, Miss Kat.” She inclined her head toward him. “Jacob”. “Are you…? I mean…I hope you are…all right.” Jacob’s apparent discomfiture in her presence served to largely restore Kat’s waning confidence. Looking him directly in the eye now, she smiled. “Thank you, Jacob, yes, I am fine.” The frankness of her gaze appeared to unsettle him further. “Do you want to take Sam out?” “Yes, I’m going for a ride with Frederique.” “Here she comes now,” he observed, looking over her shoulder, and clearly relieved at the arrival of a third party. The fact that Jacob seemed uncomfortable with her after yesterday’s encounter between them rather endeared him to Kat, while at the same time evoking in her an odd sense of power. So much so, in fact, that she now wished there had been more time to explore the paradox on her own terms. The phenomenon intrigued her, and she made a mental note to take the matter further when they were next alone together. 72

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

She turned to see the other woman walking toward them. Even dressed for riding, Frederique was the essence of elegance. Her hair drawn back in a chic chignon, she had changed into jodhpurs, riding boots and a long-sleeved white shirt with a ruffed collar and cuffs, whereas Kat had opted for the more casual attire of jeans, T-shirt and sandals. “Good day, Miss Frederique,” Jacob said. “Which mount will you ride today?” “Good morning, Jacob. I think I’ll put the new mare through her paces.” “Midnight.” “Yes, she’s a fine looking horse, is she not?” “That she is, Miss. From a first rate line, too. Another excellent acquisition by Monsieur Levequ. A rare beauty, for sure.” “Like you, chérie,” Frederique whispered to Kat as Jacob turned and walked toward the stables. “I’ll saddle up the horses for you,” the blacksmith called as he disappeared inside the building “Oh, there, I’ve made you blush again, Kat,” Frederique said, playfully. “Do you mind it terribly when I tease you?” Kat shook her head. “No, of course not; I know you don’t mean any harm by it, but I can’t help my reactions.” In fact, for some inexplicable reason, the converse was true; she actually enjoyed being teased by the vivacious Thai. What Frederique probably didn’t realize was that Kat’s embarrassment in this particular instance was only in part due to the mischievously frank compliment, and more profoundly to the reminder that, like the mare, Kat herself was one of Armand Levequ’s ‘acquisitions’. When Jacob had saddled the horses, Frederique and Kat set off at a trot toward the front gates of the estate. Their mounts could not have contrasted more spectacularly: Sam, the beautiful 73

Judith Devere

golden palomino Kat had more or less made claim to since she had been on the island, and Midnight, the gleaming black mare, somewhat more genteel in gait, and smaller than the stallion. For all their differences, both were magnificent horses and made a fine sight as they passed through the gardens and out through the arched stone gateway onto the cobbled road beyond. “Where are we going?” Kat asked. “I thought you might like to see the village. I mentioned it inadvertently to you the day we first met, remember?” This was exciting news to Kat, who had wondered often about the village since she had first learned of its existence. For reasons which had not been explained, the village had been hitherto out of bounds to her; even its location was a mystery. All she knew was that, with only a few exceptions, it was home to the island’s resident population, all of whom were indentured in one way or another to Armand Levequ. Madam SIN, Frederique, Ming, Romanoff and Kat all had suites in the chateau, where the domestic servants were also quartered. Frederique, Ming and Romanoff also had accommodation in the village, which, according to Camille, was concealed from the eyes of guests somewhere in the vast tracts of forest and jungle surrounding the chateau. “May I know why I haven’t been allowed to visit the village until now?” “I believe Christina felt that it would be better for your…” Frederique paused, apparently searching for the right phrase, then continued as she found it, “…for your transitional development if you knew as little as possible about what goes on behind the scenes here; that your immersion in the milieu and culture of Chateau Levequ would be more complete and natural that way. But you have progressed well beyond her expectations, accepting your condition here almost unquestioningly, which is why you have been elevated in status somewhat. Accordingly, the 74

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

time is now right for you to know more.” “I see. Madam SIN…I mean Christina…mentioned a change in my status last night, but she didn’t elaborate. You used the word elevated. May I ask what that entails?” Frederique laughed. “So many questions. Is there no end to your curiosity, Kat? It seems that every answer you receive prompts yet another question. You should know by now that at Chateau Levequ answers tend to materialize at the appropriate time. Ultimately, all will be revealed.” Kat smiled self-consciously. “I’m sorry, Frederique. I don’t mean to pester you. It’s just that I’m not always sure what is expected of me, or how I should behave. And this question of my status…” “No, no, I understand. And I will tell you what you need to know about that later, I promise. For now, though, let us just enjoy the ride. It is a beautiful day, the birds are singing and the scent of wild flowers is in the air. Besides, your curiosity concerning the village is about to be satisfied. Another thirty minutes or so and we will be there.” About a quarter of a mile beyond the gateway to the chateau, the road forked. The steeply descending road to the right, along which Kat had traveled by coach and horses to Chateau Levequ on her arrival at the island, wound down eventually to the quay where the Aphrodite and her sister ship, the Bacchus, discharged and loaded their passengers and cargo. Although she knew the road to the left led in the general direction of the village, she had never ventured along it. That it was forbidden to those not specifically authorized to use it was plain enough. Inside the chateau itself an upright sword entwined by a serpent, the heraldic device contained in one of the quadrants of the Levequ coat of arms, signified which areas of the house were of bounds. Outdoors, the same prohibition was invariably conveyed by the bizarre presence of goat skulls mounted on bamboo stakes. 75

Judith Devere

Here, on either side of the entrance to the restricted thoroughfare, stood three such skulls, their forlorn empty eye sockets eloquently conveying a sense of foreboding for the benefit of the uninitiated. As Frederique led the way between them, a butterfly-like thrill materialized inside Kat’s belly, briefly fluttering around en route to its inevitable destination at the confluence of her thighs. The prospect of the skeletal guardians had evoked in Kat instant and vivid recollection of two separate events, each of which would remain etched in her soul for life. The first of these had unfolded at the exquisitely beautiful Halcyon Falls where she had unwittingly trespassed just days after arriving at the island. It had been there that, from her hiding place in a fissure in the rock walls of the ravine, she had witnessed with a hammering heart a spectacle so erotic that she had barely been able to refrain from crying out and begging to become part of it. Unseen, she had gazed spellbound as Camille, on the grassy bank of a crystalline stream in a clearing in the forest, was stripped naked and taken repeatedly by two lovers — the ruggedly muscular Negro, Carl, and his accomplice, the angelic looking, blue-eyed blond Scandinavian, Michael. The two had used Camille for their sexual pleasure — and hers — repeatedly and in a variety of ways. Kat had been able to do nothing but stare, powerless to prevent her own body responding in empathy with Camille’s as each of the men in turn, and then together, vented their lust in the lovely mulatto. Kat had been on the very edge of orgasm herself when Camille spotted her. In that instant, panic overcame her arousal and Kat fled, as she feared then, for her life. Kat’s witnessing the carnal spectacle at Halcyon Falls had been possible only because, beguiled and intoxicated by curiosity and the beauty of the place, she had failed to notice the bamboo mounted goat skulls as she rode Sam into the forbidden area. Too late, she had spotted them on her departure, while Camille’s 76

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

wanton encounter with Carl and Michael was still vibrantly alive in her mind; hence the association now. But even more potently evocative was the association between the bare, sun bleached skulls and the mask representing the living beast that she had encountered on a later occasion. As far as Kat knew, Pelican Bay on the east coast of the island was accessible only by a narrow track that had been hacked out of the mountainside, leaving an almost sheer drop along its outer edge. It was along this perilous route that she had ridden Sam, compelled to risk the journey by an irrepressible desire to explore the place. Sandwiched between towering cliffs and the ocean, and flanked by forest and coconut palms, the bay and its shimmering, sand fringed lagoon was an enclave of outstanding natural beauty that surpassed even Halcyon Falls. It was here that, after securing Sam to a tree at the base of the cliff, Kat had shed her clothes and wandered deliciously naked through the forest to the lagoon itself. She had swum through the crystalline waters of the lagoon into the open sea and back, then languished on the beach in the sun’s warmth. When the weather unexpectedly broke and a rainstorm darkened the sky, she had headed back to look for Sam. It was then, in the gloom of the forest, that she discovered she was being stalked. Almost breathless with terror, she had fled blindly, but in the crashing deluge, the forest floor became treacherous underfoot and he soon ran her to ground. He was black, powerfully built and wore a goat’s head mask, through the black hole eyes of which he held her with his paralyzing gaze. The savage-looking hunting knife he carried proved unnecessary. He was as powerful as he looked, and within moments, he had Kat spreadeagled upon a flat rock, her outspread limbs bound to trees close by. She could see him now in the crystal clarity of her memory, removing his loincloth to reveal a manhood that was undeniably handsome, yet terrible in its rampant purpose. 77

Judith Devere

He had raped her then, in the green, half-light heart of the forest, with the rain beating upon their naked bodies. Or, at least it had begun as rape, his cock driving into her with savage insistence. And it was with a sense of profound bewilderment that she suddenly realized his task had been aided by the betrayal of her own body. Her sex was slick with the product of her own subconscious arousal, thus far camouflaged by terror. And so, what had begun as an act of force evolved into a mutual celebration of utter carnality, she surrendering unconditionally to what, at that time, was the most all-possessing and consummate fucking she had ever experienced. It was not until some time later, in the chateau theatre when she was playing an impromptu role in one of Madam SIN’s sexually explicit ‘playlets’ for the titillation of Sir Hartley and Lady Jeaffreson, that Kat discovered the identity of her raptor. The playlet portrayed a nineteenth century slave uprising on a sugar plantation such as the one that had once existed on this very island. Kat, playing the wife of the temporarily absent owner of the plantation, became the object of the slaves’ revenge, several of whom ‘raped’ her on stage. To her dismay, their leader had turned out to be ‘Goat-head’, as she had come to think of him. But the fact that the hideous mask appeared to be part of the costume for his role in the playlet had little to do with the fact that she was able to identify him. His muscular body and the magnificent singularity of his manhood had been etched so vividly in her mind that she would have recognized his naked form anywhere. And so it was that he came to rape her a second time, this time before a most attentive audience. After the performance, when she was in a semi-conscious state from her ordeal, she saw him remove the goat’s head mask, saw that he was none other than Calvin, one of the chateau servants who had taunted her previously. The emotional legacy of Kat’s experiences at Calvin’s hands 78

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

was an ambivalent one; on the one hand she hungered for more, while on the other she resented him for his arrogance, and for forcing her to acknowledge that hunger. And as she now revisited in her thoughts the events that had led her to this state, she began to plan her revenge. “What are you thinking about, Kat?” Frederique’s question recalled Kat to the present. “Mm? Oh, I’m sorry Frederique, I was miles away.” “You are bored with my company, then,” Frederique said, pouting playfully. “That makes me very sad, chérie.” Kat laughed. “No, no, Frederique, I think you know better than that. I am very happy in your company.” “Then, what?” “Oh, it was those goat skulls we passed a while back. They reminded me of something.” “May I ask what?” “A score I have to settle.” Frederique arched her eyebrows. “Really? Care to tell me more?” “It’s to do with one of the servants. Calvin.” “Ah, yes. I understand now.” For a while they rode in silence until Kat eventually said, “Frederique?” “Yes, chérie.” “Is it true that I have the power, the authority I mean, to…punish those beneath my…my status?” Frederique was smiling now. “Calvin, you mean?” “Yes.” “It is true, Kat, yes.” Kat felt herself blush as she asked, “And is there any…limit…to how…” “You are restricted only by the individual’s willingness to submit to what you impose on him or her. Like you…and me for 79

Judith Devere

that matter…everyone here is free to resist, to decline to submit to what is demanded of them. If you wish to punish or…make use of Calvin in some way, that is a matter for you. For his part, he may of course refuse, but then he would be in breach of his contract of indenture and would have to leave this place. Few here would do that willingly. For most, though admittedly not all, being indentured to Armand Levequ represents an extremely lucrative opportunity. In Calvin’s case, for example, a mere two years here would probably enable him to retire in modest comfort when he returns to the outside world.” “Yes, I see,” Kat murmured, drifting once more into contemplative silence. This time Frederique merely smiled, and said nothing. For a while they continued on without speaking, each woman preoccupied with her own thoughts. It was pleasant and peaceful riding in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the forest canopy, the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves on the stone cobbles almost hypnotic. At length, the trees began to thin out and eventually gave way to a broad expanse of grassland beyond which lay a shallow valley in the mountainside. “There, Kat,” Frederique said, “the village.” It was a prospect almost as remarkable as Kat’s first glance of Chateau Levequ had been from the deck of the Aphrodite on her arrival at the island. The green sward that now lay before them was bisected by a narrow serpentine river that flowed from the mouth of the valley, across the entrance to which an asymmetrical cluster of houses and other buildings huddled like barnacles on a ship’s hull. As they drew closer, Kat saw that the buildings were constructed of honey colored stone that seemed to give off a warm glow in the sunlight. Like the chateau, they were centuries old in appearance, prompting her to wonder if they too had been relocated here from Armand Levequ’s native France. 80

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Entering the village through an arched gateway in the perimeter wall, Frederique and Kat rode through a maze of meandering cobbled streets flanked by houses and shops that were as varied in appearance as the people they passed along the way. In fact, there were not many people about, but it was they, dressed in casual contemporary clothing, that gave the lie to the village’s existence in an apparently bygone century. There was just enough space for the horses to pass oncoming coaches, two of which they encountered as they moved toward what Kat assumed must be the center of the village. Window boxes overflowing with flowers hung on the walls of many of the houses, and the little village squares through which they passed were adorned with fountains or statues, and tubs of flowering shrubs. The mullioned-windowed shops were hung with hand painted signs, presumably illustrating what they sold. It was, Kat thought, an altogether charming place; a place where she, herself, might stay quite happily. At length they came to a much bigger square than those they had passed through so far. Flanked on three sides by houses and shops, the square was delineated on its fourth side by the narrow crystal-clear river that flowed through the heart of the village. An arched stone bridge spanned the short distance to the other side of the river where a little public garden, planted with shrubs and trees, formed the centerpiece of a sort of courtyard that was embraced on three sides by terraced houses. But it was on this side of the river, in the square itself, that Kat was immediately interested, for here was a little cluster of market stalls under striped awnings selling vegetables, fruits, nuts and confectionery. There were also more people here than they had seen elsewhere in the village, some browsing the stalls while others sat at tables outside what looked like an inn or tavern, drinking and chatting. The scene reminded Kat of a set in one of the old Hollywood movies before shooting on location became the norm — 81

Judith Devere

picturesque and enchanting, yet somehow unreal. The similarity, she realized, was appropriate, since many of the men and women gathered here would have been recruited for the principal purpose of role playing. At the moment, though, it appeared they were at leisure on their own time. “What do you think, Kat?” Frederique asked. “Of the village? Oh, I like it. It’s not as grand as the chateau, but that’s one of the things I find appealing about it. It’s quaint; pretty.” “It is, isn’t it? Not original like the chateau, of course, but built to very precise specifications to accurately resemble a typical French village of the same period. Although it isn’t apparent from the street, all the amenities that those who live here could want are available to them, either here in the village itself or on the outskirts just a little further up the valley.” Although she herself would never have voluntarily become part of this world, Kat could at least understand now why these people had. Considering the modest wealth they were quietly amassing, together with the fact that they apparently wanted for little, it was, she supposed, altogether not a bad lifestyle — provided you could accept that as long as you remained here you existed solely for the gratification of others. “Come, chérie,” Frederique said, dismounting Midnight. “There is something I must to attend to while we are here. Let us tether the horses.” Following Frederique’s example, Kat swung down from the saddle and led Sam across the square to a hitching post. When they had tethered the horses Frederique said, “I will have to leave you for a while, Kat; probably no more than fifteen or twenty minutes. Why don’t you explore the village in the meantime? I will see you back here afterwards. Oh, and you won’t need money; everything on offer on the market stalls, in the shops and the restaurants and taverns is complimentary, so if you see 82

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

anything you like, you need only ask for it.” It was only after Frederique had disappeared along a narrow passage between two houses that Kat realized she was experiencing a child-like sense of excitement and wonder at being here in the village. The feeling reminded her of her first visit to Disneyland. As she considered this phenomenon in the context of her present circumstances, an ironic concept occurred to her: Disneyland for Decadents — what a fitting epithet for this exclusive carnal retreat in the Caribbean. Smiling at her own unaccustomedly sardonic humor, Kat walked across to the market stalls where she selected a luscious looking peach. “Hello,” the pretty, flaxen haired girl behind the stall said as she handed her the fruit with a generous smile. “I’m Paula.” Kat returned the smile. “Kat.” “Nice to meet you, Kat,” Paula said, then, glancing briefly at the peach Kat held, added, “Sweet and very…juicy.” Was she referring only to the fruit, Kat wondered, or was there something ambivalent about the girl’s observation? It was hard to say, but in the short time she had been in Armand Levequ’s service, Kat’s lifelong taboos and inhibitions about same sex attraction had been torn asunder, and she was briefly tempted to explore the possibility. But there was neither the time nor opportunity for that right now. She had at most twenty minutes to take in the village before Frederique returned. Looking back over her shoulder as she walked away from the stall, she locked eyes with the girl and bit extravagantly into the tender, ripe peach. The village, Kat reasoned, could not be very big, and yet she managed to lose her bearings several times. Wandering in and out of the shops, she discovered that they carried a wide variety of merchandise, all of very good quality. But she was not tempted to buy — or, rather, acquire — anything, since everything she 83

Judith Devere

might want was available for the asking at the chateau. At last, when her watch told her that twenty minutes had passed, she made her way back to the main square. Curious to see what the other side of the river was like, she crossed the little bridge. As she stepped onto the stone paved esplanade that ran along the riverbank, she heard a female voice call out her name. “Katrina? Katrina, hi!” Although she recognized at once the voice with its distinctive southern drawl, she could not immediately locate its owner. “Katrina, over here, hon.” Now Kat saw her, wearing high heeled sandals and striding along the esplanade with that same irrepressible self-confidence. But Safire’s self-confidence was by no means Kat principal reason for remembering her. Far more memorable was the fact that she and the statuesque black goddess now approaching had made love naked under the Caribbean sun on the open deck of the Aphrodite. That had been just over three months ago, as they were nearing the end of their voyage to this island. Although she didn’t know it, Safire had then become only the second female lover in Kat’s entire life, the first being Ann Novak just a few days earlier on the second leg of her incredible odyssey by land, air and ocean. “Safire,” Kat gasped, as the two women embraced. “It’s so good to see you.” “You too, girl. Let me get a good look at you.” Safire took a step back, and the two women surveyed each other with pleasure. Never one to conceal overly much of a figure she knew to be breathtaking, Safire had on a mid thigh length sarong in bright pastel blue and a minuscule pink mesh scarf top suspended by a slender metal necklace. The colors and brevity of the outfit displayed the woman’s sleek satin body to optimum advantage, her beasts straining against the flimsy material covering them, and almost an entire thigh bared by the slit in the 84

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

sarong. Kat felt a familiar ache in her belly as she gazed at Safire, who must have sensed or seen something of her reaction in her demeanor, because she grinned and said, “You thinking what I’m thinking, babe?” Kat swallowed hard, tried to suppress her embarrassment. Then she relaxed and smiled. “I think, probably…yes.” Safire moved closer, the smile fading and the expression in her eyes deepening. “Want to come back to my place for a while? It’s only minutes away. Of course, if we get caught we’ll be in for it, but hell, girl, I’d risk that to be with you again. What do you say, Katrina?” “Kat.” “Mm?” “It’s Kat now. Christina decided I should be known as Kat from now on because Katrina is too much like her name.” Safire’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Christina? You mean Madam SIN? That Christina?” “Yes.” “My, oh, my, girl, you sure have gone up in the world. On first name terms with the First Lady now, huh? Last I heard from Tiffany, you were playing second fiddle to her on video with the voracious Viking; trying to get him up again after she’d done with him.” Kat blushed instantly at Safire’s reference to her first ‘test’ at Chateau Levequ. Before an audience comprising Christina SIN and her associates, she had indeed been required to perform sexually with the Scandinavian, Michael, after he had been all but exhausted by Tiffany. That she had succeeded in arousing him enough to enable him to penetrate her had been largely due to advance information from Camille, but also to her willingness to challenge him to take her anally. That act, together with its lascivious prelude, had all been captured on video as insurance 85

Judith Devere

against the future possibility that Kat might otherwise be tempted to disclose to the outside world what she knew about Armand Levequ and his island. Again, Safire read Kat’s reaction accurately. “Hey, I’m sorry Katrin… I mean Kat. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, sweetie. I don’t have the right; when all’s said and done, we’re all here for basically the same purpose. It was just that…well, it seems you’ve become one of them now.” Kat shook her head. “Not really, Safire. It’s true that my status has changed since we arrived here, but I’m not really sure in what way yet. It’s all very confusing. And I can assure you anyway that the fact I’m now permitted to call Christina SIN by her first name affords me no protection. In fact, only last night she gave me a really hard spanking.” “The bare bottom variety?” Kat nodded. Safire smiled mischievously. “Mm, I’d like to have seen that all right. But, listen, it’s been ages since we saw each other. Won’t you come back to my place; take a chance?” Just then a landau pulled by two horses rumbled through the cobbled square on the other side of the river. Instinctively, Kat turned to look and saw the face of the passenger peering at her intently from the window of the coach. The prospect triggered a chill that drizzled down her spine like ice water, causing her to gasp. Ming’s eyes flashed darkly as she looked back at Kat. The heartless dominatrix’s expression, unequivocally imperious and predatory, left Kat in no doubt that she was contemplating the torment to which she would subject her at some opportune moment in the not-too-distant future. It was the briefest of encounters. Within seconds, the coach had passed, turning off the square and disappearing into one of the side streets. Her face visibly paler, hands trembling, Kat turned again to face Safire who appeared not to have noticed the passing of Madam SIN’s 86

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Dark Angel.

“Safire, I’d…love to go with you, really I would, but I simply can’t; not today. I’m here with Frederique. She’s gone off to attend to a personal matter, but she’ll be back at any moment now.” Safire heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well then, I guess it really is out of the question. But promise me you’ll come back and see me when you can; if you can.” “If I can, I will. You know that. And it might be possible because I think the village is no longer out of bounds to me. It has been until now, you know.” “No, I didn’t know, but that explains why I haven’t seen you around, I guess.” “Kat?” Frederique’s voice rose above the murmur of other voices in the square. Kat waved to Frederique, then turned briefly to Safire again and said, “Soon, I hope.” “Sure.” Safire smiled as she watched Kat walk back over the bridge toward Frederique. The rest of the morning passed pleasantly for Kat and Frederique, the sun’s heat tempered by a deliciously sensual breeze drifting inland from the ocean. For several hours after leaving the village, they meandered across spectacularly beautiful terrain — mountain slopes with panoramic sea views, teaming white cataracts in the lush emerald depths of the forest, white sand beaches. They spoke intermittently, between periods of reflective relative silence punctuated only by the sounds of birdsong, rustling foliage and water tumbling down the mountainside or breaking in waves on the shore. In conversation, Frederique contrived for the most part to have Kat talk about herself; her life both before and since Armand Levequ; her likes and dislikes; her innermost feelings on a miscellany of issues. And for some reason Kat found it very easy to confide in 87

Judith Devere

the other woman, who, she slowly began to realize, reminded her a little of Audrey Hepburn. There were, of course, obvious inconsistencies in this view; for one thing, Frederique’s pigmentation was almost Negroid in color, like dark chocolate, whereas the late actress’s pale flesh tone had resembled the petals of the Peace rose. In stature, they were superficially similar, except that Frederique’s slender frame was more voluptuous, her thighs and buttocks well defined and toned, her breasts firmly proud. But it was in the Thai’s fine facial bone structure, her high, upward sloping cheekbones and narrow, elegant jawline that the similarity was most striking; in this, and her natural feminine dignity and charm. But if Kat shared much of herself with Frederique while receiving little information about her in return, she at least learned from her something more of interest about her present environment concerning both the chateau and elsewhere on the island. There was, for example, a highly sophisticated and technologically advanced surveillance system in place. Controlled from a command center somewhere in the labyrinthine depths of the chateau, a vast network of hidden CCTV cameras monitored locations considered either vulnerable from the point of view of potential intrusion by outsiders, or strategically important for other reasons. A highly trained professional security force, although almost never visible to residents and guests, remained on constant alert to deal with possible privacy threats from the outside world. While not going into detail on this account, Frederique assured Kat that the island was virtually impenetrable to uninvited would-be visitors. To facilitate the fulfillment of the more fantastic or spectacular demands of Armand Levequ and his guests, tracts of land on the island were set aside in the manner of the Hollywood movie studio ‘back lots’. With the help of a small but accomplished workforce of technicians and artisans these could be, and frequently were, transformed into 88

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

fantasy microcosms to accommodate the enactment of scenarios that knew few bounds, short of severe violence, injury or death. But these locations, too, were almost impossible to find or access unless one knew how. Kat listened, spellbound, as Frederique revealed the island’s wondrous and exotic secrets, thereby unwittingly reinforcing her earlier notion of a decadent erotic theme park. But even in the light of her own improbable experiences here it was difficult to believe that such things really existed in what seemed, with the obvious exceptions of the chateau and the village, a totally natural and unspoiled environment. At one point Frederique seemed to recognize Kat’s skepticism. “I assure you, chérie, that everything I am telling you is true. I will never lie to you.” “Oh, I know that, Frederique,” Kat answered hurriedly. “I mean, I think I’ve known that instinctively since the day we first met. It’s just that…” Kat sighed, leaving the sentence unfinished. “I understand, Kat. Really I do. It is difficult to conceive that this entire island, everything and everyone on it, are totally dedicated to fulfilling the desires of Armand and those of his associates fortunate enough to be granted access. But that is the way of things here, and I for one have never regretted my decision to become a part of it. Indeed, it has been both a privilege and a profound source of…” Frederique turned her head aside so that Kat could no longer see her face. “Of what?” Kat asked. When Frederique turned to face her again Kat thought she detected an ephemeral darkening of the pigmentation in her cheeks and neck. It was difficult to be sure with flesh so dark, but could it be that Frederique was actually blushing? Confirmation came with the self-conscious smile that accompanied the other woman’s reply. “Of…fulfillment.” 89

Judith Devere

“You know, I was almost certain that you were going to say

pleasure.”

“I might easily have done, Kat, for pleasure is certainly an important element of fulfillment — for me, at least. Desire, pleasure, fulfillment; this island is an inexhaustible cornucopia of all these things and more.” “This island…” Kat echoed. “May I know what it is called?” “It has an official name, of course, but that is known to only a handful of totally trusted individuals and is never used by any of us. This is partly because the official name is irrelevant, but more importantly because the island’s existence and location must, for obvious reasons, remain a closely guarded secret. To those who live and work here it is formally The Island of Madam SIN, in recognition of the pivotal role Christina has played in its creation and development. More often, though, we refer to it simply as The Island. To those fortunate to visit as guests of Armand Levequ it is known, somewhat more evocatively, as L’Île des Désirs — The Island of Desires.” Just as Frederique finished speaking, they reached the top of a rise from which, beyond the intervening emerald canopy of the forest, they could now see Chateau Levequ standing proudly on its prominence overlooking the bay. Frederique raised her arm to point. “Look, chérie, home.” **** Since Frederique had matters to attend to on Madam SIN’s behalf, Kat spent the afternoon alone in her suite. After a light lunch brought up to her by Ingrid, she read for a while on the balcony. Although pleasant enough, reading in the warmth of the afternoon sun began to make her feel drowsy, and so after a while she took a cool shower then lay naked on her bed. She had intended to rest only a little while and then perhaps go down to 90

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the pool for a leisurely swim, but instead she sank into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke it was to find her bedroom bathed in the pale silver radiance of the moon. By the time she had showered and dressed for dinner it was almost eight-thirty. She had slept for nearly five hours — probably, she thought, her body’s delayed response to the emotional and physical exertions of the last few days. She arrived at the dining room just as Ming, sitting alone at the long table, was finishing dessert. When she saw Kat, the other woman laid down her spoon and leaned back in her chair to fix her with a malevolent smile. “So, the happy wanderer returns. Good evening, Kat.” The reference was lost on Kat. “I’m sorry?” Ming’s eyes narrowed. “I said good evening.” “Oh… yes. Good evening, Ming. I meant… I didn’t understand…” “Oh, the happy wanderer? Well, this morning you were seen somewhere you are not permitted to be, were you not?” Kat took the chair on the opposite side of the dining table to Ming. “I’m sorry, I still don’t understand.” “The village, Kat. I saw you there this morning. I thought you had seen me too, but obviously not or you wouldn’t be so brazen about it.” Now Kat understood. “Oh, but I had permission…” “Don’t lie to me, Kat,” Ming snarled. “It will only make your punishment worse.” A female servant, who had been moving toward Kat to take her order, now stood off, hovering a few feet behind her chair. This dangerous exchange was not something she cared to interrupt. “But Ming, truly, I…” Ming banged the table with heel of her fist as she rose swiftly to her feet. “How dare you try to deceive me! You are going to 91

Judith Devere

regret this incident, young lady.” “She is telling the truth, Ming.” Both Ming and Kat, as well as the servants present, turned to look at Frederique, who had entered the room and was walking toward the dining table. “The truth?” Ming echoed, incredulously. “Yes. Not only did I give Kat permission to visit the village, she actually accompanied me there. I had some business to attend to. You must have seen her when I left her alone for a while.” Ming looked from Frederique to Kat, and then back again, anger evident in both her expression and voice as she said, “But I was not informed of this.” Frederique smiled. “No, Ming, you were not, because there was no opportunity for me to inform you until now. This is the first time I’ve seen you today.” Ming’s eyes narrowed to slits as she looked back at Kat again. Her voice trembled with barely suppressed fury as she spoke. “Very well. It seems I was…mistaken. In any event, Kat, I will see you in my chambers in the cellars after dinner. Time for a little more training, I think.” Kat’s heart sank at this. Obviously Ming was enraged at being thwarted by Frederique and had decided to take it out on her anyway. Frederique, though, came to Kat’s aid again. “I’m sorry, Ming, that won’t be possible. Kat has three days’ leave, starting from this evening. After the intensity of recent events she needs some time to recover and strengthen her resolve. She will not be…available again until Thursday evening.” “But Christina never said…” “It was I who made the decision, Ming, not Christina. As her deputy, I have that right in her absence. I trust you would not want to take issue with the point?” For a second Ming looked as if she might very well take issue 92

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

with the point, but then seemed to regain her customary haughty demeanor. She smiled icily, first at Frederique then, for a fraction longer, at Kat. “No, Frederique, of course not. It is your prerogative, of course. Besides, three days isn’t so very long, is it? Kat and I can make up for lost time in her training schedule on Thursday. Good evening to you both.” So saying, Ming strode from the room, leaving Kat with the impression that the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees. Frederique replaced Ming in the seat opposite Kat. Only now did the hovering servant approach the table to take Kat’s order while another moved to Frederique’s side to attend her. Frederique ordered wine from one of the male servants, then, as they waited, turned to meet Kat’s gaze. “Thank you, Frederique,” Kat said. “Thanks are not necessary, Kat. I am afraid that I have merely deferred the inevitable; perhaps even made the eventual consequences worse for you. You saw how angry Ming was. She will not forget, and when she regains control over you again in just three short days…” Frederique shrugged with disturbing eloquence. Kat lowered her eyes. “I know. I know that she will…hurt me…humiliate me. But at least I will have had three whole days of freedom; time to myself to…” She paused, looking up at Frederique again. “Oh, but I’m being presumptuous. You didn’t say what I should be doing during that time.” Frederique smiled. “Don’t worry, my dear, your time will be entirely your own. Although I did not mention it, I decided this morning when we were riding that you should have a break. You have earned it in my view, and you do need some rest and time to prepare for the challenges ahead. So feel free to do with your time whatever you desire — with one exception.” “What is that?” “Before I answer that question, I want to explain a little more 93

Judith Devere

about your change of status. As you are aware, your standing here was already relatively privileged in that you ranked considerably higher than all the other indentured residents, albeit that you have also been subjected to a very rigorous and uniquely specialized daily regimen. Thus far you have been prohibited from certain areas and denied sexual relations without express approval from those in authority. Now, consequent upon your indicating to Christina your willingness to explore the dominant aspects of your personality and sexuality, these two restrictions have been lifted. Henceforth you may ignore the prohibition signs and venture where you please anywhere on the island. Moreover, you may indulge in sexual, or any other activity with whomever of those beneath you that you choose, and none may refuse you. In other words, you now have total power over your subordinates. “My goodness.” Frederique smiled at Kat’s reaction. “It has been noted that you keep a daily journal. You are to continue that practice, but with a new journal which you will be given especially for the purpose. If you choose to have sex, or to punish or in any way…experiment…with anyone, you must record the details in this journal, together with a comprehensive description of how each encounter affects you, both physically and psychologically. You are to submit your journal to Madam SIN or myself for inspection once a week.” While Frederique had been speaking, the servant who had brought the wine had been carefully decanting it. Now that he had finished he poured a drop in Frederique’s glass for her to try. When she had tasted it and nodded her satisfaction, he poured wine into both her and Kat’s glasses. Although Kat had not yet so much as tasted the wine, she already felt intoxicated from the information Frederique had just imparted to her. She raised her glass, sipped and swallowed rather more than she had 94

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

intended. Frederique too sipped from her glass. “I mentioned an exception that would apply to the extent of your freedom during the next three days. I should like you to avoid all forms of sexual activity during that time, including masturbation. If you are to fully benefit from the break, it is better that you abstain totally. So…may I have your word, chérie?” Predictably, Kat blushed. “Of course,” she answered. And then a thought struck her. “Oh, but what about the wine,” she asked, looking at the glass in her hand. “It’s all right, Kat. During the period of your abstinence you will not be offered wine containing any of Ming’s additives. That applies to this wine also.” An ephemeral smile flickered across Frederique’s lips. “You may drink without fear of becoming…inflamed.” “You’re making fun of me.” “Yes, chérie, a little. But in a nice way, no?”

95

Judith Devere

Chapter Six

T

he three day respite following her visit to the village with Frederique was, for the most part, a relatively carefree and pleasant time for Kat. Whether or not by design on Frederique’s part, she saw no one with authority over her during that time, which allowed her a sense of freedom she had rarely experienced since arriving at Chateau Levequ. That freedom, however, was conditional, in that Frederique had extracted from her a promise that she would not indulge in any form of sexual activity during her ‘leave’. It was a promise easily given but not, as it turned out, quite so easily kept. Even from day one, Kat discovered that the changes that had taken place within her since she had entered Armand Levequ’s service were more deeply rooted than she could have imagined. Intensely heightened sexuality, submission and dominance had become a part of her existence, of her being, and it was with a sense of dismay that she found it impossible to exclude these aspects of her present life from her thoughts and feelings. She had developed powerful physical and emotional desires, needs, which, it now occurred to her, were akin to an addiction, and without the fulfillment of those needs there seemed to be something essential missing from her life. When she showered, her fingers inevitably touched her sex and breasts, and whereas before coming under Armand Levequ’s 96

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

influence they would have done so only for long enough to cleanse herself, they were now tempted to linger, to caress and to arouse. Similarly, when she saw herself naked in the full length dressing mirror in her bedroom, the prospect of her own perfectly shaped breasts and depilated sex conspired to stir a painful longing deep in her womb. And the test to her resolve was particularly acute when she applied the cream that maintained her mons and sex smoothly bare, as ordained by Madam SIN. Only by astutely avoiding the sensitive little nub of flesh that nestled between her labia was she able to maintain her self-control. But maintain her self-control she did…just. Having given her word to Frederique, she resisted the temptation to allow her memory and imagination free rein; to do otherwise would have certainly led to masturbation or more, and thus to a broken promise. But it was not easy, and her torment was compounded by the knowledge that she would soon be free to sexually indulge herself with just about any of the beautiful men and women on the island. That thought was a powerful aphrodisiac. And so, although she welcomed the temporary relaxation of her demanding daily regimen at Chateau Levequ, and relished the liberty to do almost as she pleased for a change, her joy was tempered by the ambivalence of her emotions. To cope with this, yet one more of many paradoxes, she consciously filled her days with physical activity — riding, swimming, jogging, working out — so that by nightfall she was all but exhausted and slept dreamlessly. Ironically, the biggest threat to her resolve came from a most unlikely source on the final morning of her leave. It so happened that this was the day for her weekly medical checkup. Mandatory for all residents and visitors to L’Île des Désirs, were thorough medical examinations, both prior to arrival and on a weekly basis whilst on island, as the state of being there was known, as 97

Judith Devere

opposed to, by the same logic, off island. This task fell to a Swiss physician named Kreisler. Meticulous, polite and considerate, Doctor Kreisler conducted his examinations with absolute propriety, and gave no hint that he might harbor the same lascivious appetites as Christina SIN and her associates. Nevertheless, on this occasion, deprived of sexual stimulation and release for three entire days, Kat found herself responding to the more intimate aspects of Kreisler’s examination in a manner that both surprised and embarrassed her. Sprawling in a gynecological examination chair, her thighs widespread and locked in the stirrups, she lay helpless while he scrutinized and probed her sex with detached professional interest. Kat’s response, on the other hand, was anything but detached. Although she strove to control her reactions, her body betrayed her, the wellspring of her vulva erupting copiously as the questing fingers stretched and delved the sensitive flesh. And the fact that Doctor Kreisler wore surgical gloves did nothing to mitigate her arousal; indeed, as the latex clad fingertips grazed her clitoris, her muscles tensed and she arched her back with a soft moan. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to do that.” Kat looked down at him, his face partly obscured between her parted thighs. “No,” she sighed, softly. “I know. It’s…all right. It’s…my fault. I should be able to control myself.” Rising now, he smiled at her with avuncular commiseration. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Kat. The human body is a wonder of nature, designed to respond reflexively to certain stimuli. It is perfectly natural that you should react so, especially in the highly charged atmosphere of this island. But in any event, my examination is complete now and I am pleased to confirm that you are in the very best of health.” **** 98

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

That evening, in her suite, Kat watched the clock as the hands momentarily semaphored eight o’clock, signifying the end of her temporary freedom. Then, with a sigh that was as ambiguous as her emotions in response to the transition, she dressed for dinner. Both Frederique and Ming were seated at the table when Kat entered the dining room; it was the first she had seen of either of them in thee days. Ming regarded her coolly, with a slight arching of an eyebrow, while Frederique smiled with characteristic warmth. “Good evening, Kat,” Frederique said. “It is good to see you. Did you have an enjoyable break?” Kat acknowledged both women with a head gesture. “Good evening, Frederique, Ming. Thank you, yes. It was very relaxing.” “I’m so glad. Please, join us.” Frederique and Ming faced each other across the table. Kat sat at the only other place setting, two seats removed from Frederique on her left. A female servant began to ladle soup from a tureen, while one of her male counterparts served wine. Only now did Ming allow herself a thin smile. “Do have some wine, Kat. A very special Burgundy. I selected it myself to celebrate your…return.” Whenever offered wine at Chateau Levequ, Kat must always accept; this was one of the inviolable rules that governed her life here. Sensing the implications of Ming’s words and tone, she turned now to look imploringly at Frederique. But if she hoped for support from that direction, she was quickly disabused of the notion. Frederique simply inclined her head, indicating that Kat should do as Ming had bidden. Forcing a smile, Kat raised her glass, drank from it. In fact, the wine was superb, the glorious pinot noir both voluptuous and opulent, with no suggestion on the palate of the additive that Kat 99

Judith Devere

knew instinctively it contained. Surprisingly, it was only now that it occurred to her to wonder how Ming’s concoctions were added to her wine while not to that of others drinking from the same decanter. Sedative, aphrodisiac, or designed to influence one’s psychological or physical state in a variety of other ways, the various potions would not, she felt sure, be administered indiscriminately. So, presumably, they must be introduced to her glass alone with deft slight of hand on the part of the servant pouring to the wine. She made a mental note to watch the process carefully in future, but as dinner progressed and the wine and its mysterious added ingredient began to work their alchemy, her intention to confirm her theory somehow slipped its leash and was gone. Discussion during dinner focused at first on the day to day affairs of Chateau Levequ, the estate and the village, with Kat having little to contribute. But as they neared the end of the main course, Ming steered the conversation in a distinctly salacious direction. At first she merely cast sly glances in Kat’s direction as she spoke in graphic detail about various forms of erotic torment and sexual degradation she liked to use or had personally developed. As she warmed to her topic, however, she contrived to invoke Kat’s active participation by putting questions to her. To begin with, Kat suffered her usual embarrassment, as evidenced by her faltering replies and vivid blushes. But inevitably, given the nature of the subject and the fact that she had almost certainly been slipped some form of aphrodisiac in her wine, she found herself increasingly aroused by the dialogue in which Ming obliged her to take part. As that dialogue progressed, the emphasis shifted incrementally from generality to the specifics of Kat’s own experience. For over half an hour, Ming made her review the various erotic and sado-masochistic encounters she had participated in since arriving at Chateau Levequ, demanding comprehensive accounts as to how each had affected her. And as 100

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the wine continued to flow — a honey luscious dessert wine replacing the Burgundy with the serving of crêpes suzette — Kat’s arousal intensified. Almost squirming in her chair as she recounted in lurid and explicit detail her various experiences, she was powerless to prevent the insistent seepage from the depths of her sex and the consequent soaking of her panties and her dress beneath her thighs. Clearly enjoying her chagrin, Ming smiled archly. “All very interesting,” she said, at length. “But tell me now, Kat, what would you say has been the most sexually humiliating — and, therefore, knowing you as I do, arousing — experience of your stay here so far?” Kat thought for a moment, her senses reeling as a succession of vividly prurient images riffled before her mind’s eye like a pack of pornographic playing cards. She flushed hot, felt faint, her mouth suddenly very dry. “I…think…” “Yes?” Kat cast her eyes down at the tabletop. “It would have to be the evening you brought me here to the dining room when Sir Hartley and Lady Jeaffreson had just arrived on the island. I was…chained at the time, if you remember.” “Ah, yes, indeed I do, Kat.” Ming glanced at Frederique. “Remember, Frederique?” Frederique said nothing, merely fixed Kat with an expressionless gaze. But Kat remembered well enough; as if it had been only yesterday. The Jeaffresons had been complete strangers to her then, the first time she saw them being when Ming led her into the dining room. About to dine with Madam SIN and the others, they were seated at this very table. “I think you will have to jog Frederique’s memory, Kat. It seems her recollection is not as keen as yours. But then I suppose you had good reason to remember the experience. Tell us about it.” 101

Judith Devere

Kat place her hands flat on the table, looked down at them as she took a deep breath. “It was after you found me…making love with Camille in my suite.” Ming laughed, scornfully. “You mean rutting like two bitches in heat.” Kat cast a quick glance at Frederique but saw no reaction. The Thai’s near-black almond eyes seemed glazed, as if she were in a trance. “Well, go on, Kat,” Ming prompted. “I was naked except for a pair of high heeled shoes. You had attached a pair of gold clamps to my nipples; tightened them.” “The pain brought tears.” “Yes. It hurt…a lot.” “But aroused you also.” Kat nodded. “And then?” Kat went on to describe how Ming had drawn her hands behind her back and snapped a pair of golden handcuffs around her wrists, so that they were manacled together. Turning Kat around to face her again, she then produced a long, slender golden chain in the shape of a letter ‘Y’. Each of the three ends of the chain terminated in a small clip. Kat had watched through a veil of tears as Ming clipped the two shorter ends of the chain to each of the clamps on her nipples. Then, bending on one knee, Ming drew the longer length of the chain straight down over Kat’s belly to her sex. A shudder had rippled through Kat’s body as Ming slipped the chain into the groove of her vulva, threading it between her thighs and then pulling it up tightly between her buttocks, to secure it to the handcuffs that shackled her wrists behind her back. Chained in this position, Kat was ironically party to her own torment. To ease the pressure and the pain, she had to push her hands downward and keep her back arched. When she relaxed from this posture, the golden chain tugged at 102

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the clamps on her nipples, while at the same time sinking deeply into the furrow of her sex, and between her buttocks. The arrangement was painful, uncomfortable and terribly degrading — yet irresistibly arousing. In this state, Ming had led Kat to the dining room where she been obliged to stand to one side and a little behind Madam SIN’s chair while she and her guests had dinner, throughout which Lady Frances Jeaffreson questioned her at intervals about her experience. Thus humiliated and fiercely aroused, she had watched with the others as, between the main course and dessert, Sir Hartley Jeaffreson cleared a space among the crockery before stripping and ravishing a beautiful red-haired serving maid on the dining table. This spontaneous entertainment concluded when, with Lady France’s assistance, Sir Hartley withdrew his rampant penis from the maid’s sex at the moment of orgasm and showered the wretched girl with explosive spurts of semen. The kaleidoscopic assault on her senses throughout dinner proved irresistible for Kat, who strove vainly to conceal each of the devastating multiple orgasms she herself experienced at various stages of the proceedings. When the cheese and port had been consumed the diners left the dining room to be further entertained in the Chateau’s private theatre, but their withdrawal did not signify an end to Kat’s ordeal. Left among the servants as they began clearing the table, she had to suffer their stares and, in some cases, outright lecherous ogling as she struggled to open the dining room door. Finally managing to accomplish that task, she had hobbled in anguish back to her suite along corridors and stairways that seemed infinitely longer than before. As she revisited the events of that evening in her mind now, Kat felt the familiar moist prickling in the heart of her vulva, and was relieved when Frederique laid her napkin aside and said, “Well, I think that will do for now, Ming. Although her leave is 103

Judith Devere

technically over, I’m sure Kat would like an early night in preparation for the resumption of her training?” Frederique looked from Ming to Kat, querying the latter with raised eyebrows in the transition. Kat took the cue. “I would like that, Frederique. Thank you.” A momentary glint of displeasure livened Ming eyes, then was gone as she smiled, almost sweetly. “Yes, Frederique, that’s probably a good idea. She will need to summon her resolve to meet what new and wondrous challenges await her…tomorrow.” These parting words drove a sliver of ice into Kat’s breast as she rose with the other two women to leave the table. And yet even this veiled threat failed to quench the inner fires that Ming had deliberately kindled over dinner, as Kat discovered on her way back to her suite. On reaching her door, she unlocked it with a trembling hand. Fiercely aroused from the aphrodisiac spiked wine and her libidinous interrogation by Ming, her burning intent was to shed her panties and seek immediate relief with her fingers. But on pushing open the door she was surprised to find Sharon and Ingrid waiting for her inside. A pretty blonde pocket Venus, Sharon Page was Madam SIN’s fashion and beauty advisor. From time to time during Kat’s stay at the chateau, at Madam SIN’s behest, Sharon had selected specific combinations of clothing, hair styling and makeup for Kat. This usually happened when Madam SIN had something special in mind for Kat, and since it frequently involved the fitting and adjustment, not only of her outer clothing — where there was to be any — but also her lingerie and hosiery, the nature of Sharon’s contact with her had at times been intimate. Indeed, it was Sharon who had personally shaved off Kat’s pubic hair, rendering her entire Delta of Venus totally bare for the first time in her post-pubescent life. The denuding of her sex had embarrassed Kat beyond words at first, 104

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

made her feel vulnerable as never before, but she soon found that the new look and feel was extremely sensual, and she had since resolved to keep it that way. Seeing Kat’s puzzlement at finding the two women in her room, Sharon said, “You have an appointment, Kat.” “An…appointment?” “Yes. In about fifteen minutes. I’m here to help you prepare, and then Ingrid will escort you, show you where to go.” “I see. May I know who…?” “You don’t need to know that yet, Kat. But you won’t have to wait long to find out. First, though, you must take a thorough shower; you are to be…” Sharon smiled mischievously “…squeaky clean.” “Very well,” Kat said, and made her way to through her bedroom to the en-suite bathroom. Although she may have succeeded in sounding composed, which was her intention, her stomach was churning. This turn of events could mean only one thing: now that Kat’s leave had expired, and despite her apparent agreement that Kat be allowed a reprieve until the following day, Ming was about to claim her pound of flesh — an apt metaphor where the relentless Chinese dominatrix was concerned. When she had showered, thoroughly, Kat returned to her bedroom where Sharon and Ingrid were waiting for her. “Off with the bathrobe,” Sharon said, briskly. “You are to wear these things.” Responding to Sharon’s gesture, Kat looked at her bed where the garments that had been selected for her lay. There was no outer clothing as such, but this came as no great surprise. The items that lay on the bed, however, she could see at a glance, were of the finest quality. There was a lace basque bedecked in places with small pearls, a silk choker with a single mabe pearl at the front, a lace and pearl thong and a pair of self-supporting stockings with lace tops. All were pristine white in color. At the 105

Judith Devere

foot of the bed, on the floor, was a pair of satin high heeled shoes, also in white. Kat shrugged off the bathrobe and handed it to Ingrid. Sharon cast an appraising glance over Kat, seemed satisfied. “Put them on please, Kat.” Kat picked up the thong, examined it. Although she knew such things existed, she had never seen one before. As an undergarment there was little to it: a delicate lace belt with a single strand of pearls at the back and a double strand at the front. “Go on, Kat, put it on. It will make you feel very sensual.” Kat stepped into the thong. As she pulled the lace belt up to her hips, the rear pearl strand slid snugly into the cleft between her buttocks, while the double strand framed, rather than covered her sex in front. Looking at herself in the full length dressing mirror, she had to admit that she presented a very sensual image — a view that Ingrid obviously shared, judging by the hungry gleam in her eyes as she, too, stared into the mirror. “Now, help her with the basque, Ingrid.” Ingrid moved to the bed, picked up the basque. Kat raised her arms to allow Ingrid to fit the basque to her body and lace it up. It fit perfectly, the stiffener inserts sculpting Kat’s already exceptional body to perfection. The basque was topless, but small quarter-cup supports lifted and separated her bare breasts, displaying them to optimum advantage. As she rolled on the stockings, she was conscious of the luxurious sensuality of their caress upon her flesh, especially at her thighs. The juxtaposition of the thong, basque and stocking tops offered an irresistibly erotic reflection in the mirror. “Excellent,” Sharon said, when Kat had finished ‘dressing’ by slipping on the shoes and fastening the choker around her slender neck. “Now for your makeup.” Sharon moved to the dressing table where a makeup valise 106

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

lay open. Selecting a number of items from within, she returned to Kat and began to perform the magic of her profession. Several minutes later, Kat looked into the mirror again and saw how Sharon had transformed her. Her lips looked full and voluptuous under a coating of coral gloss. A touch of cerulean eye shadow emphasized the paler, ice blue of her eyes, while the merest hint of blusher on her upper cheeks accentuated the elegant upper sweep of her cheekbones. Looking at her own reflection, Kat was taken aback at the cleverly wrought effect of her metamorphosis. The contrast between the high end, daringly intimate lingerie and slightly coquettish makeup, and her otherwise decorous countenance was stunningly erotic in a paradoxical way. Stepping back to consider her work, Sharon smiled with satisfaction. “Perfect.” Turning to the maid, she added, “You may escort Kat to the cellars now, Ingrid.” Kat’s heart sank. The cellars — confirmation, if she had needed it, that she was indeed to be delivered into the hands CHIANG Ming. “Ah but wait. She will need this.” From the back of a chair, Sharon took a long white satin cloak with a high collar at the back. Slipping it over Kat’s shoulders, she buckled the clasp at her throat. “Now you are ready.” Walking alongside Ingrid but allowing her to lead the way, Kat made the familiar journey to the stone stairway that led from the ground floor to the vast labyrinth of passageways and vaults that lay beneath the chateau. Here, Armand Levequ’s extensive collection of fine wine was cellared, and Ming ruled her own private domain — the suite of austere stone chambers where she practiced her special skills upon her pitiable subjects. But a surprise lay in store for Kat. When they reached a junction in the passageways where a choice of three different directions was available, Ingrid turned left instead of right which, 107

Judith Devere

as Kat knew only too well, was the route to Ming’s chambers. Intrigued, if still wary, Kat accompanied Ingrid down a spiral stone staircase that seemed to be leading them into the depths of the earth. It was much cooler here than above ground, and Kat was thankful that she had the cloak, which she now gathered around her. As they descended the stairway, the stone blocks from which the walls and arched roof of the passageway had been constructed began to give way incrementally to solid rock bearing the scars inflicted by whatever tools had been used to hew this tunnel deeper into the earth. At length, the stairway ended abruptly in a small rock chamber, the only possible way forward being through a big arched wooden door studded with metal bolts. “This is where I leave you, Miss Kat,” Ingrid told her. “But what…where…?” Ingrid tilted her head. “That way. Through the door. There’s no need to knock, just go inside. You are expected.” With that, the maid turned and began the return journey up the stairway. For several minutes Kat remained motionless, simply staring at the ancient wooden door. When she did eventually move, it took considerable resolve. Stepping forward to grip the heavy metal ring that was the door handle, she turned it and pushed. Astonished at what the opening door revealed, she crossed the threshold into a world she could never have guessed existed; a dream world. There had been many surprises — both pleasant and not so pleasant — since she had arrived at L’Île des Désirs; what lay before her now ranked unequivocally among the greatest. She was standing in a cavern, perhaps thirty feet high at its uppermost point and more than twice that distance across at its widest. But despite its size and depth below ground, and unlike the passageway and stairs that had led her here, it was comfortably warm. The floor had been leveled so that it was 108

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

perfectly flat, but in every other respect the original rugged and asymmetrical rock formation had been retained. Overhead, stalactites of various dimensions created the illusion that the cavern was slowly melting, while all around multi colored pockets of subdued light glowed from hundreds of small pigeonholes cut into the rock. From some hidden source the strains of Debussy’s L’apres-midi d’un faune mingled softly with the sibilant effervescence of running water, the source of which was a small waterfall that cascaded from a fissure high on the far wall. From a pool at the foot of the waterfall a narrow stream ran along the perimeter wall on one side of the cavern before disappearing again into a sort of natural funnel in the rock. The entire watercourse was infused with aquamarine iridescence from somewhere beneath its surface. Spectacularly beautiful though the cavern undoubtedly was, what made this place especially remarkable was the fact that it had been converted into a huge, surreal bedchamber. In emulation of the strange rock formations overhead, it was furnished in fantastical Dali-esque style that almost defied description. Although clearly the work of some gifted artisan, each extraordinary piece of furniture had been cunningly fashioned from stone to look as if it had grown, stalagmite-like, out of the floor. Among other pieces, the otherworldly inventory included a circular table with four cushioned chairs around it, a writing bureau, a wine cabinet, bookshelves containing a vast collection of books, and a gargantuan bed. Those parts of the bed that were not hidden by the mattress and covers were decorated by intricate carvings, as was the stately stone headboard that had been cut in relief from the cavern wall, with which the bed itself was seamlessly conjoined. A huge metal chandelier hung from the center of the cavern, its myriad sconces aglow with flickering flames. Kat was entranced, her apprehension temporarily banished 109

Judith Devere

by the sheer wonder of her surroundings. How long she simply stood and gazed she could not have said, but a movement on the periphery of her field of vision eventually broke the spell. She turned to look and saw that someone had drawn aside a burgundy brocade curtain from a doorway cut in the wall on her right. That someone, standing at the threshold smiling, was Frederique. “Hello, chérie. Welcome to Le Sanctuaire — a very special place.” To say that Kat was both relieved and pleasantly surprised would have been a gross understatement in both respects. “Frederique! I never guessed. I thought it was Ming; that she was going to…” Walking toward Kat now, Frederique looked exquisite. Unusually, she had freed her hair from its customary chignon so that it hung loose about her shoulders like skeins of glossy black silk. Her lips glistened under a veneer of pale pink gloss. She wore a halter necked dress in café-au-lait satin that complemented perfectly the dark chocolate tone of her flesh. From her neck, the dress descended through a waist length split to separately conceal each breast but leaving the rest of her upper body uncovered, then was gathered just above her navel by an intricately crafted silver or white gold brooch that matched her pendant earrings. From the waist, the dress hugged her hips, then followed the line of her thighs and calves until the hem swept marginally against the floor. “No, Kat. Not Ming. Frederique. I promised you that our time would come, chérie. And do not worry, nothing bad can happen to you here; no pain, no torture or humiliation. This is Le Sanctuaire — The Sanctuary. All that is permitted here is sensual pleasure.” “I’m so glad it is you. I thought…” Close now, Frederique reached out a hand, placed her index 110

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

finger against Kat’s lips, her touch gossamer light. “Shh. Let me look at you.” Moving closer still, her eyes like nuggets of polished jet, Frederique lowered the finger from Kat’s lips to curl it beneath her chin, urging her face upward slightly. The Thai’s face inches from hers now, Kat’s nostrils flared as she felt and inhaled the other woman’s breath, moist, delicately perfumed. Kat’s own breath was suddenly stolen away, her senses reeling at the intimacy of the moment as Frederique’s lips met hers in a kiss that was tender yet wildly sensual. And as they kissed, Frederique slipped her free hand under Kat’s cloak to caress each of her breasts in turn, fondling and tracing the contours of the nipples, which swelled and hardened in response. Kat moaned softly as the questing hand moved lower, down over the basque to her sex; sighed through the kiss as an audacious finger slid between the moist fleshy lips to explore the inner contours of her vulva. Waves of carnal pleasure coursed through Kat’s body, setting her trembling. She felt suddenly faint, feared for a moment that she might actually lose consciousness. Was this why Frederique had not intervened when Ming had plied her so freely with the drug laced wine earlier? A sense of loss gripped Kat as Frederique removed her hand from her sex, transferring it to her throat to deftly unfasten the clasp of her cloak. The cloak slid to the floor, revealing Kat’s virtual nudity. She sighed again as Frederique broke the long, breathtaking kiss and stepped back, the better to take in her image with unconcealed admiration. “Ah, Kat, how delightful you look; so beautiful. I have waited long for this moment. Come.” Taking Kat by the hand, Frederique led her across the floor of the cavern to the bed where she kissed her once more, then turned her back on her. Raising both arms to lift her hair off her shoulders, she said, “Remove my dress, Kat?” 111

Judith Devere

For some odd reason the rising inflection in Frederique’s voice, blurring the distinction between instruction and invitation, spawned a rollercoaster thrill in Kat’s stomach. Did it mean, perhaps, that Frederique meant to temporarily relinquish her authority over her, that she intended for them to become equals, if only for a while? In any event, Kat did not hesitate. Her trembling fingers quickly found the zip of Frederique’s dress, slid it down from her lower back to her buttocks. Frederique turned again, bowing her head so that Kat could slip off the halter. That done, Frederique clutched the front of the dress for a moment, holding it to her breasts as she fixed Kat with a gaze of disturbing gravity. But then she smiled, her eyes remaining steadfastly fixed on Kat’s as she allowed the material to slip from her fingers, thereby baring her perfect breasts. The dress clung momentarily to Frederique’s hips, then sloughed to the floor in a whisper of satin, leaving her all but naked. Her one remaining garment was a pair of silk French knickers trimmed with lace in the same café-au-lait color as the discarded dress. Kat stared in awe at the lovely, half naked Thai; at her long slender limbs and regal face with its fine, high cheekbones; at the luxuriant mane of raven hair framing proud, firm breasts, each surmounted by a smooth conical nipple that was even darker in hue than the surrounding flesh. The woman was so beautiful it made Kat ache just to look at her. Time slowed down, somehow lost its value as Frederique stepped forward to fold Kat in her embrace. Now, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, as if the two women were interacting under water. Kat gasped as Frederique’s silk clad mound pressed against her own, bare and smooth and slick with her arousal. Her nipples grazed the other woman’s, sparking an electric tingle that startled her with its intensity. “Oh, Frederique.” Kat’s own words seemed to come to her from afar, as if spoken by someone else. 112

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

When Frederique kissed her again Kat readily parted her lips to admit the other woman’s insinuating tongue, shivered with delight as it undulated deliciously around her own, tasting, exploring. During this heady moment of profound complicit intimacy, and seemingly by unspoken mutual consent, the two women moved incrementally closer to the bed, Kat feeling as if she were floating rather than walking. Then, in seamless transition, Kat found herself lying on the bed, the silk sheets glassy and cool on her naked shoulders and buttocks. Frederique’s lips brushed Kat’s neck now, her tongue softly flickering, butterfly-like, in passing. “Aah, Katrina, my sweet.” The whispered words seemed almost tangible, given substance by the brush of Frederique’s lips and her moist warm breath in Kat’s ear. And then those lips moved on, languorously exploring the contours of Kat’s throat before ascending the swell of her breasts to enfold each succulent nipple in turn. Frederique suckled on the swollen buds, her teeth nibbling just firmly enough to evoke a tremulous whimper from Kat, then, easing lower, she slid, serpent-like, down over Kat’s hips and between her thighs. Her face now a breath away from Kat’s simmering sex, Frederique inhaled the potent aroma of her arousal. Kat did not resist as practiced hands grasped the undersides of her knees, bending them, coaxing her legs up, back and apart. Kat’s sex gaped provocatively in response, and in this ungainly, wanton posture the pearl strings of her thong slithered over her labia to lie within the glistening pink furrow between, presenting to Frederique’s devouring eyes the prospect of a succulent erotic oyster. Kat cried out loud as Frederique’s lips brushed the extremities of her sex, then groaned as her questing tong flickered over and around her clitoris, randomly jostling the glimmering pearls before snaking into her vulva. Throwing her arms out across the bed, Kat grasped the silken sheets, twitching 113

Judith Devere

and convulsing as the skilful Thai licked and probed and sucked and softly grazed at will among the most intimate of her possessions. In response to Frederique’s ardent tonguing, Kat’s hips began to undulate reflexively against the other woman’s face, as if she were performing a recumbent and intensely erotic belly dance. Gripped by a sort of helpless delirium, her gaze randomly roamed the cavern before eventually coming to rest on the great stone headboard carved in the rock above the bed. Now she saw that the carvings were, without exception, deeply erotic in nature: men with women; women with women and with animals or mythical beasts; groups; sexual domination and submission. Had she seen these depictions a few short months ago, she would regarded them as fanciful beyond belief but now…now, she felt a powerful affinity with many of the scenes; had been there, done that. Meanwhile Frederique had settled into a steady rhythmic probing of Kat’s sex with her tongue. Tearing her gaze from the headboard, Kat looked down over her breasts, between her drawn up thighs, and gasped at what she saw. Eyes half closed, as if in a trance, Frederique presented a painfully erotic picture; licking, sucking Kat’s labia into her mouth as if she were eating a luscious ripe mango, then delving between them to thrust her tongue deep into the mysterious heart of the fruit. And then, seeming to sense Kat watching, she raised her head momentarily to smile at her. The sight of Frederique’s face, no more than a tongue’s length away from, and liberally anointed by the saturated pleats of her womanhood, was too much for Kat to bear. The prospect pushed her over the edge, tilting her into excruciating orgasm. Her cry of release echoed around the cavern as the climax exploded. But Frederique did not let up. Even as Kat’s orgasm began to recede, she changed her technique, first flicking at the nub of her clitoris, then sliding her tongue in a languorous and 114

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

audacious arc down between her parted buttocks. Kat arched her back as the tip of Frederique’s tongue pressed insistently at the tightly puckered portal of her anus. Squeaky clean. This unexpected and shockingly sensuous affront took Kat’s breath away as if she had been thrown into a glacial pool. Squirming and protesting, she tried to push Frederique aside, but the Thai proved stronger than she looked. Seizing Kat’s wrists, she held them fast against her hips as she continued the exquisitely brazen assault on her senses with her tongue, one moment probing the forbidden orifice between her buttocks, the next thrusting deep into the folds of her sex. As Frederique continued to work her witchery, Kat lost the will to resist. Despite her initial protests, she found herself being swept away on a wave of sheer irresistible pleasure, and before long was on the brink of orgasm again. Apparently sensing this, Frederique suddenly extricated herself from between Kat’s thighs to move up alongside her again. “Kiss me, chérie.” Turning into Frederique, Kat threw her arms around her. Kissing her full on the lips, she was enveloped by an exotic blend of her own intimate aromas, transported from their source on Frederique’s lips and tongue. Kat realized then that she would allow this woman to do anything to her; would do anything for her. After a long kiss in which Kat fancied her soul melding briefly with the Thai’s, Frederique eased herself up onto one elbow. Looking down at Kat she said, “Now is the time. You must finish undressing me.” With that Frederique lay back, looking up at the roof of the cavern, her face expressionless. It was a strange and sudden transformation in her mood and Kat wanted to seek clarification, to ask if she had done something wrong. But she sensed that 115

Judith Devere

Frederique did not want to talk now, and so she moved around to kneel alongside her thigh. Sitting back on her calves, she placed her hands on the other woman’s hips. Frederique sighed, a little sadly it seemed to Kat, as she took hold of the waist of the French knickers and began to draw them slowly down across the smooth dark plane of the other woman’s belly. The silk and lace garment slid easily over Frederique’s smooth skin, and Kat’s fingers began to tremble as she realized she was about to see, to touch, the object of the many imaginings and fantasies in which she had indulged since first meeting this magnificent woman. But things were not always what they seemed at Chateau Levequ, and if Kat had forgotten that, a reminder was suddenly driven into her like a stake. Her hands and her gaze froze simultaneously as she stared in disbelief at what the expanse of silk and lace had begun to reveal. Her heartbeat thumped deafeningly in her ears, and a prickling sensation drizzled down the back of her neck and shoulders. “Fr… Frederique, I… Oh, my goodness!” “Don’t stop, Kat. Go on.” Kat did not move, seemed paralyzed. “Please, Kat,” Frederique said, huskily, “carry on.” Responding mechanically to the instruction, Kat continued to ease the garment from Frederique’s crotch, confirming her initial incredible perception. Disbelief evolved to bewilderment as the quintessential feminine garment now fully revealed…a penis and testicles. “Oh, my God, Frederique, you’re a…” Kat could not bring herself to finish the sentence. Although Frederique was looking at her again now, Kat did not notice, transfixed as she was by the male genitals that adorned her companion’s loins. “No, Kat, not…a man. I promise you that. Nor a transvestite, or even a transsexual. 116

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“But…how can this be? I…don’t understand.” Mesmerized, Kat continued to gape at the paradox; was there no end to them? Completely devoid of pubic hair, it was not a big penis, perhaps even smaller than Kat had come to perceive as average. But it was perfectly formed, undoubtedly real, and in its presently flaccid state, much darker than the surrounding flesh; almost black in fact. The testicles were considerably smaller than average, and lay like black pearls within their dark satin sack. “Take off my panties, Kat. Remove them completely.” Still staring, Kat did as she was bidden. “Now touch me…there.” Bewildered, yet strangely fascinated now that she had confirmed the reality, Kat reached out hesitantly to touch the recumbent cock. As her fingertips brushed its surface, the sleeping serpent began to stir. She took its weight, closed her fingers around its girth as it grew, firming and stiffening in her hand. Frederique moaned softly, her voice as convincingly feminine as ever. Raising her knees, she placed her feet apart on the bed, spreading her thighs. The cock — her cock — was fully erect now, and despite Kat’s dismay she had to concede that it was, after all, a thing of beauty. “Look below Kat.” Puzzled, Kat simply stared back at Frederique. “Here,” Frederique explained, reaching down to cup the testicles in her hand. Lifting them and parting her thighs even wider, she said, “See, Kat. I really am a woman.” A little cry of astonishment escaped Kat’s lips as she stared at what must surely be the ultimate paradox, for there, directly below the male genitalia, lay a perfectly formed vagina, the outer labia protruding slightly, glistening in the cavern’s soft kaleidoscopic lighting. “Frederique… Please, I… I don’t understand this.” “Don’t fret, chérie. There is nothing to fear. Like Jacob — 117

Judith Devere

but in a different way — I am simply a freak of nature. I was born with both female and male genitalia. Do I disgust you now, Kat? Repulse you?” For a moment Kat hardly knew what to say, but as she stared in awe at the incredibly exotic creature that lay naked before her, she began to see Frederique in the likeness of some wondrously ambiguous goddess of ancient and mysterious mythology. And as this concept crystallized in her mind, her fascination grew, becoming increasingly intertwined with renewed arousal. “No, Frederique, you don’t disgust me at all. That you are…different…doesn’t affect the way I feel about you. No, wait, that isn’t true. It does affect the way I feel about you. It intrigues me, makes me…in a way… want you all the more. But…” “Yes?” “Well, I don’t know how the wine is affecting my thinking, the way I feel.” Frederique smiled. “Do not worry about that. Like hypnosis, the wine and what it contains cannot make you think or feel anything that is alien to your nature; it can only release, perhaps enhance and bring to the fore your own true convictions and emotions.” “I’m glad.” “Why so, chérie?” “Because I want what I’m feeling to be real.” Frederique reached out, caressed Kat’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Oh, darling, it is real. Kat, I can be both woman and man for you. Touch me again. I want to feel your hands, your fingers…your lips.” “Yes.” Kat reached for the erect penis again, grasping it in her right hand, feeling it flinch and swell in response. The left hand she slid under the testicles to brush the glossy lips of Frederique’s female sex. Frederique groaned, bit her lip as Kat found her clitoris, a tiny island in the flooded delta of her sex, 118

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

rotated her middle finger over and around the swollen nub. Using both hands, Kat caressed and fondled Frederique’s male and female genitals at once, slowly increasing pressure and tempo until her they evolved into a steady simultaneous masturbation of both. Again the Thai fixed her gaze, trance-like, on the ceiling of the cavern, her breasts rising and falling with the rhythmic sounds of passion deep in her throat. Minutes passed thus, until Frederique abruptly arched her back off the bed, crying out as if in pain. But in reality this was her impassioned response to Kat’s suddenly impaling her on two fingers while at the same time bending to enfold the distended cock with her mouth. “Oh, Kat! Aah, mon Dieu!.” Frederique writhed, her features contorting as Kat moved around to kneel between her thighs. Willingly, she allowed Kat to part her legs wider and push them back against her body into the childbirth position. Totally devoid of all inhibition now, Kat began to take full advantage of the fact that Frederique was totally vulnerable as she herself had been earlier. As she raised and lowered her head, sucking and rolling her tongue around the pulsing cock, her fingers slid back and forth in the silken sheath of Frederique’s vulva. At length, sensing that the Thai was not far from orgasm, she released the cock from between her lips, transferring them instead to the other woman’s sex. Frederique shook her head, softly sobbing as Kat used her tongue to alternately lap at her inflamed clitoris and plumb the depths of her vulva. Nor were Kat’s hands idle, the right now frenziedly massaging the rigid cock while the left, still slippery from the spring of Frederique’s arousal, probed the little star of flesh at the heart of her buttocks. But when Frederique began to tremble with the onset of orgasm, Kat withdrew the lower finger, replacing it with her tongue. At this, Frederique climaxed ferociously, the normal pitch of her voice transmuting to a deep 119

Judith Devere

guttural moan. Although she squirmed like a captured animal trying to escape, Kat clung on to her, relentlessly continuing the blitzkrieg on her senses with insistent tongue and fingers. The two women lay entwined upon the silk sheets, Frederique shuddering and jerking spasmodically in response to each successive orgasm. When it was over neither woman spoke. Frederique simply drew Kat to her and cradled her in her arms where, breathless and moist from her exertions, she drifted into deep untroubled slumber. What woke Kat — who knew how much later? — was a gentle but insistent pressure against her sex. She was lying on her back now, something soft and warm between her thighs, keeping them apart. She peered through half-open, sleep heavy eyelids, and was startled into wakefulness by what she saw. The goddess was looking down at her, eyes gleaming with an inner light that set the black pupils aglow like smoldering coals. Her lips were drawn back to reveal perfectly even, perfectly white teeth in a curious, almost predatory smile that seemed anomalous in the normally decorous Thai. “Frederique?” Kat murmured, yet unsure if what had happened earlier, and what she perceived now was reality or drug induced illusion. “Chérie,” the other woman whispered, her gaze seeming to burn into Kat’s very core. Frederique, Kat now saw, was half lying on top of her, her upper body supported on extended arms, locked at the elbows. Like dark, tempting fruit, her breasts hung above Kat’s own, swaying slightly in time with her shallow breathing. It was Frederique’s hips that lay between Kat’s thighs, and in a sudden flood of recollection and comprehension, Kat understood. But even as the recalled image began to coalesce in her mind’s eye, Frederique thrust forward in a single, steady movement to slowly impale her upon the enigmatic, but rigidly undeniable penis. 120

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat gasped. The dubious legacy of some long ago genetic blunder of nature, the cock inside her now was moderate in size, to be sure, but the fact that it was a part of the beautiful and fascinating Thai seemed to somehow imbue it with a kind of carnal energy Kat had never known before. Moreover, it quickly became apparent that, for all her feminine charms, Frederique knew as well as most men — and better than many — how to employ the male member to optimum effect. A low moan escaped Kat’s lips as Frederique ploughed into her, hips gyrating slightly so that her pubis nuzzled repeatedly against Kat’s clitoris with each languorous stroke. Increasing the tempo, Frederique moved with the fluid grace of a dancer, her buttocks rising and falling rhythmically between Kat’s parted thighs. Kat’s breathing grew shallower, more rapid, as Frederique drove her relentlessly on. Soon, both women gleamed with perspiration, and the sound of flesh slapping moist flesh echoed from the walls of the cavern. Frederique began thrusting harder, more aggressive now; low, animal-like growls deep in her throat. “Yes, Frederique!” Kat cried. “Oh, yes.” Bending her knees she wrapped her arms around them, hauling her thighs alongside her breasts and opening up more fully to the other woman. Orgasm within reach now, Kat squealed, “Yes, Frederique. Oh, Fuck me. Fuck me!” Frederique’s hips were moving with sewing machine rapidity now, her cock stitching Kat with yarn of unbearable ecstasy. “Freder…Frederiiiiiiiiiiiiique!” Kat’s screaming of her name in the throes of orgasm proved the catalyst for Frederique’s release also. The two women clung together in frenzied urgency; writhing, thrusting, crying out impassioned entreaties and intimacies as orgasm engulfed them like a raging tsunami. When at last the seemingly timeless moment had at last passed, they fell apart to lie panting in spreading damp patches 121

Judith Devere

among the silken sheets. Spent and deeply fulfilled, Kat thought that it would be impossible to endure more pleasure than she had known this evening. In the warm embrace of post-climactic torpor, she lay for a long time, still but for the rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts in time with her breathing. She was drifting into sleep when Frederique roused her by gently brushing her temple with the back of her hand. “It is late, chérie. Time to freshen up before you return to your quarters.” Taking her by the hand she led Kat from the bed to the pool at the foot of the waterfall. Descending by a series of steps cut into the stone, Kat followed Frederique into the water, which to Kat’s surprise was deliciously warm. The pool was about four feet deep in the center with a narrow shelf around its perimeter to form a submerged bench seat. As Kat sank into the water she watched, fascinated, as her flesh effloresced in the aquamarine light that emanated from some indiscernible source at the bottom of the pool. The effect was weird in a pleasing way, seeming to turn both women to glowing water sprites, Frederique obviously the more exotic of the two in view of her unique anatomy. Following Frederique’s example Kat sat on the bench seat, enjoying the feeling of near weightlessness. A cluster of glass jars containing different colored liquids stood near the edge of the pool. Frederique selected first one, then a second of these, removing the lid from each in turn to pour some of the viscous fluid into the water. “Specially prepared lotions to cleanse and soften the skin,” the Thai explained. A potpourri of subtle perfumes blossomed in the air as the waterfall churned the lotions about in the pool. Kat felt the effect at once, her skin seeming to turn to satin under the touch of her fingertips. “That’s right,” Frederique said. “Simply run your hands over 122

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

your body and you will soon be as…” she smiled roguishly “…as squeaky clean as when you arrived.” Kat laughed. “The very words Sharon used when she came to prepare me.” “She was quoting me.” “Yes. And now I know why,” Kat answered, blushing. “There should be no limits placed on intimacy between two people who want each other desperately, chérie…or at least that is the way I feel.” “I’m not sure about that generally, Frederique, but I certainly agree as far as my feelings about you are concerned.” Seeming suddenly serious, Frederique looked at Kat as if trying to read her mind. “It really does not bother you that I am…the way I am?” Kat shook her head. “No, I told you how it makes me feel. You told me you would never lie to me; nor would I to you. I won’t deny that it came as a shock, but no, it doesn’t bother me. In fact…” “Yes?” “Quite the contrary, I adore you. Although I don’t pretend to understand…” Kat turned her gaze away from Frederique, directing it down into the water instead. “What manner of creature I am?” Kat turned her head hurriedly to make eye contact with Frederique again. “No! I mean…I would never put it like that. It’s just that I’ve never heard of anything like that before. Of course, I know about transsexuals, but you said…” “That I am not one. And it’s true. Technically, I am a hermaphrodite; two sexes conjoined in one body. But I loathe the term; it sounds like something slimy that lives under stones.” She gave a little shiver. “It is a very rare condition. In my case, the overall bias of my body, my being, is in favor of the female, as I believe is apparent. But, as you now know, I am able to 123

Judith Devere

function sexually like a male also. However, neither the female nor male aspects of my sexuality are entirely functional. I cannot, for example, conceive a child; nor can I ejaculate as a man does, but I am able experience orgasm through both genitalia.” “Can nothing be done? I mean…?” “To make me wholly a woman? Yes, there are skilled surgeons who are capable of performing such an operation, but you are assuming that is what I would want.” Kat was puzzled. “You mean…you don’t want that?” Frederique shook her head. “You may consider it strange, but no. If I had wanted that Armand would have arranged it long ago. I have known him since I was a child. I think I told you when you first arrived here that I was abandoned at birth on the doorstep of a French missionary orphanage in Thailand?” Kat nodded. “The reason was obvious. Clearly my parents did not want the social stigma of raising a child who was neither completely female nor male, while being partly both. But the orphanage took me in, cared for me in my early childhood. And then Armand Levequ came into my life. That Armand is fabulously wealthy is common knowledge. Less known — because he prefers it that way — is that he is also a philanthropist, that he donates millions of dollars a year to deserving causes. The orphanage raised and educated me to the age of fourteen, it by then having become apparent that both my female and male sexuality were to mature more or less in unison. Armand was the orphanage’s most significant benefactor, and he made a point of visiting at least once a year to see how his money was being put to use. When he first saw me he was, I was told, struck by my beauty, even though I was yet a child.” Here, Frederique’s complexion darkened momentarily in what Kat guessed was a blush of modesty. “When the principal of the orphanage told him about 124

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

my…condition…his heart went out to me. Later, he set up a trust for me and managed to have me naturalized as a French citizen. The trust paid for my education and finishing school. He kept in touch with me over the years, continually monitoring my progress. To begin with I regarded him as a sort of uncle, whom I greatly admired and regarded with deep gratitude. We became close, and as I grew older my feelings toward him changed. I became…attracted to him, but was always concerned that my sexual ambivalence would be a bar to any sort of physical relationship between us. He had discussed my sexuality with me frankly from the outset, and from the age of sixteen offered me the ongoing option of a surgical operation if I desired it. But I never wanted that. It is hard to explain. The best I can do is to liken it somewhat to being one of identical twins; each aspect of my sexuality is attached to the other in more ways than just physically. I am comfortable with what I am.” “And Armand?” Frederique smiled. “Ah, now we come the interesting part. On my twenty-first birthday Armand took me to Maxim’s in Paris for a celebration dinner. It was a memorable occasion for me, you may be sure. Excellent cuisine, the finest wines.” As she spoke, Frederique’s eyes glazed over, as she seemed to relive the experience through recollection. “Later he took me back with him to his penthouse overlooking the Seine. It was very romantic. That night Armand saw me naked for the first time. I was terribly frightened and ashamed of what I was, but after all he had done for me I could deny him nothing. Besides, I wanted him, but I thought that when he saw the reality in the flesh he would never want to see me again.” “But you were wrong.” “Oh, very, very wrong, Kat. He told me that I was beautiful in a most special and unique way; that there were men and women who would give anything to possess me, even for a single night. 125

Judith Devere

He knew intuitively, you see, that I could be attracted to both men and women. He made love to me — my first time with either man or woman — and I thought that I would die from pleasure.” “I know that feeling,” Kat interposed, sensing that Frederique took the significance of the remark. “Then we are both truly blessed, Kat.” “Were you… Are you in love with Armand?” Frederique looked surprised. “In love with him?” She shook her head. “No, Kat. I love him, as I believe he loves me — and many other women for that matter — but I’m not in love with him. Only a fool would fall in love with Armand Levequ, because he would never allow himself to be in love with one woman. You know his tastes, his needs; a man with such an appetite could never remain faithful to one woman, even if she were unconditionally committed to satisfying his every craving. You weren’t hoping…?” Kat shook her head. “No, of course not. In fact, until recently I loathed him. As you know, he practically raped me, sodomized me in the grounds of my own home. He blackmailed me into coming here, into becoming what I have become…whatever that is.” “Until recently?” “Well…” Kat sighed. “The things I have experienced since that night in the gazebo have changed me irrevocably...and the way I feel about Armand.” “Which is?” “Well, I no longer hate him, that much is for sure. In a way, I feel as if I now…belong to him.” “You love him…in the same way that I do.” “Do I?” Kat asked, as much of herself as of Frederique. “Perhaps I do. It’s strange, I want to be with him, to please him. To give myself to him.” 126

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Or to anyone he would wish you to give yourself.” “Yes.” “There is no jealousy; no resentment.” Frederique, Kat realized, was not questioning her, simply stating fact. “No.” “Ah, you have come a long way indeed, chérie. You belong to Armand Levequ as much as any of his chosen women.” Now, for the first time consciously, Kat realized that it was true; she did belong to Armand — body and soul. And as she acknowledged this truth, the thought that he might not continue to want her, that she might at some future stage become unnecessary to his purpose, suddenly filled her with trepidation. As if she had read Kat’s mind, Frederique said, “Don’t worry. I have watched you closely, seen the effect you have on Armand and those around him. And if you have the resolve to serve out your contract satisfactorily I believe you will have a place in his life for as long as you wish. As I myself have, here at the chateau.” That she should find comfort in this reassurance struck Kat as pathetic, but there was nothing she could do about it. Not to ‘have a place’ in Armand’s life now seemed unthinkable. It was the way things were. “But it is getting late, Kat. Finish bathing and then you must go back to your suite; sleep for what is left of the night.” Around twenty minutes later, Kat left the cavern wearing the white cloak and clutching in her hands the journal Frederique had given her. Heavy, bound in fine hand-tooled leather, this would become the receptacle of her recorded experiences for the remainder of her contract with Armand Levequ.

127

Judith Devere

Chapter Seven

A

n insistent ringing nagged Kat from the warm cocoon of sleep into reluctant wakefulness. After her exquisite but exhausting erotic encounter with Frederique she had returned to her own bed, slipping almost at once into complete oblivion. Now, as she emerged from that state through confusion to awareness, the realization slowly dawned on her that the sound that had roused her was the ringing of her doorbell. As she swung her feet out of the bed onto the floor the ringing stopped. She moved quickly from bedroom to lounge, but when she opened the front door there was no one to be seen. An envelope lay on the floor in the corridor just outside the door. She picked it up, shuddered as she recognized her name written in Ming’s severe gothic script. Closing the door, she returned to her bedroom where she opened the letter with trembling fingers. The message was short and simple: she was to be at breakfast in the dining room at eight thirty precisely. As she turned to look at the clock she realized with a leaden heart that the instruction was impossible to obey; it was already eight thirty-five. It was strange, she thought, that although Ming had absolute authority over her, and could chastise or humiliate her at will, she seemed to prefer to have a reason to do so. To achieve this objective, Ming would often contrive a situation which, by its very nature, placed Kat in the position of unavoidably committing some 128

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

disciplinary infraction, thereby ‘legitimizing’ her consequent punishment. Once again, it seemed, the Machiavellian dominatrix had finessed just such a situation. By the time Kat arrived, breathless, at the dining room it had turned ten minutes to nine. Frederique and Vladimir were sitting opposite Ming at the dining table, indoors because a sudden shower had precluded the more usual alfresco alternative. “Ah, good afternoon, Kat,” Ming said with heavy sarcasm, her lips set in a grim smile. “We are so pleased you were able to honor us with your presence, albeit…” glancing at her watch “…twenty minutes late.” “But I only got the message…” Ming’s reaction was immediate, cutting Kat short. “Are you questioning my authority?” she snapped angrily. Kat shook her head. “No, Ming. It’s just that…” Ming raised an eyebrow menacingly — a sign Kat had learned to associate with danger. Kat lowered her head. “No, Ming. I apologize for being late.” Ming held Kat with her glare for a moment, then turned back to the task of eating her breakfast. As if it were an afterthought, she said, “I’ll see you in my chambers later. Wait in your suite after breakfast until someone comes for you.” Frederique, who had remained silent until now, said, “Oh, Ming, I forgot to tell you, I have arranged with Kat to…” Ming’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing as she looked at the Thai. “To do what, Frederique? Receive more personal…instruction…from you? Or have you decided to extend her leave; give her more time to indulge herself like one of Armand’s guests? Personally, I think it’s high time Kat continued with her training.” “No, Ming, you misunderstand me,” Frederique replied, her tone defensive, conciliatory. “I merely thought that she would benefit from…” 129

Judith Devere

Ming seemed to soften, offering the other woman a slyly innocent smile as she cut her off by saying, “Well, of course it’s up to you how Kat spends her time while you are in authority here. But I believe I saw the Aphrodite docking down in the bay just before I came to breakfast, which means that Christina has returned a little earlier than we anticipated. I suspect that she would be less than pleased to learn that you had been, what?…favoring the girl? Spoiling her, one might say. I mean, you know how unforgiving she can be toward anyone she suspects of putting Armand’s best interests at risk. Even you, Frederique, are not immune from her wrath. Perhaps you should remind yourself why Kat is here on the island?” Turning to Vladimir, she added, “What do you say, Vladimir?” “Frankly, I’d rather not get involved in this, but…” “But, what, Vladimir,” Frederique asked. “Well, I have to say, I think Ming has a point. I mean, I’m sure that whatever your intentions are where Kat is concerned they are meant for the best, but it’s possible that Christina might take Ming’s point.” “Which Ming would surely make.” As she spoke, Frederique looked back at Ming, who provided confirmation with a barely perceptible inclination of her head. Frederique seemed almost to wilt. “I see. Very well, then.” Clearly defeated in this small conflict with Ming, she put down her napkin and rose from the table. “I have matters to attend to. If you will excuse me…” “Of course, Frederique,” Ming responded, as if nothing had happened. As she turned to leave, Frederique’s eyes briefly met Kat’s. It lasted only a second, but the message was clear enough: I tried; I’m sorry. After Frederique had left, Kat took her place at the table. Breakfast continued uneventfully, with Ming and Vladimir 130

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

discussing various matters that did not involve her and were of only passing interest. At length, Ming rose to leave. “The rain is easing,” she observed. “Time for a canter before starting the day’s…business.” In the minuscule pause, she glanced meaningfully at Kat. “Perhaps I’ll see you at dinner, Vladimir?” Vladimir nodded. “Probably. Have a good day, Ming.” Ming looked at Kat again. “Oh, I think I shall,” she said, before turning and leaving the dining room. When Ming had gone, Vladimir said, “Kat, you’ve barely eaten anything.” Kat looked down the piece of toast she had been toying with. “I’m not…particularly hungry.” “Nevertheless, you should eat, keep your stamina up. You know what it’s like here; the daily regimen can be very demanding.” Kat knew only too well, and was mindful that today would bring renewed demands, aggravated by Ming’s recent denial of access to her. She had enjoyed some respite during the last few days, but now things were clearly back to normal and she had no doubt that Ming would make up for lost time. She smiled ruefully as she answered. “You’re right, of course, Vladimir, but I’m afraid that even if I had the appetite for a good breakfast it wouldn’t help me deal me with whatever ordeal Ming has in mind for me today.” Vladimir seemed to reflect on this a moment, then said, “True. And that reminds me, since I want you to play a leading role in the scenario I’ve written for Christina’s guests, I must have a word with Ming to make sure she doesn’t mark you too much.” With these words of cold comfort, Vladimir left Kat alone in the dining room. Shortly after, she returned to her suite to wait until she was summoned to Ming’s dank chambers in the cellars 131

Judith Devere

beneath the chateau. Not knowing how long she would have to wait, she decided to pass the time by starting the journal Frederique had given her the previous night. Sitting at the antique escritoire in her lounge she looked closely at the book. It was A4 size, bound with fine quality, claret colored leather. The leather, she now noticed, was decorated with hand-tooled erotic illustrations depicting men and women in various sexual acts that would have shocked her beyond words a few short months ago, but which now, if anything, only served to pique her interest. After examining each to discover which she could mentally tick off as now within her own experience, she then opened the journal at the first page and reached for her pen. She began with the events of the previous night, the recollection and setting down on the page of her discovery of Frederique’s secret, and their subsequent celebration of that discovery quickly stirring her to extreme arousal. As soon as she had finished, she hurriedly undressed and lay naked on her bed, allowing her fingers to caress and probe the environs of the lush, now flooded wetland between her thighs. Reliving the intimacies of her encounter with the ravishing Thai, she quickly found release in an orgasm that produced a series of plaintive whimpers which, to an uninitiated eavesdropper, might have suggested that she was in pain rather than ecstasy. The undeniable need satisfied, she showered and then returned to her journal, thinking of her short discourse with Vladimir at breakfast. She had been quite touched by his apparent concern for her welfare, fleeting and token though it may have been. She did not fear Vladimir as she did Ming and Madam SIN because he had never inflicted physical punishment upon her personally — though, of course, he seemed equally content to watch her endure it at the hands of others. And it was true that she had been introduced to and had performed a bewildering diversity of 132

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

sexual practices at his instigation, many of which she could never have previously contemplated in her wildest imaginings. But she could hardly complain about that; indeed, she had come to regard her sessions with Vladimir with eager and almost unashamed anticipation. An inspirational and talented director, as well as a tireless and accomplished lover, he was immensely imaginative in both these roles. He could be demanding enough in his own way, either personally engaging her in unbridled sexual exploits, or orchestrating and directing her in similar scenarios with others; men, women or both. But he never hurt her — at least not in the deliberate, calculatingly humiliating way Ming and Madam SIN did. Patient but firm, he had helped her shed the inhibitions she had previously harbored that had shaped her morality in what she now thought of as her former life. If required to be the whore, she could now do it unreservedly, and was ever keen to celebrate her new found wantonness, both to prove herself to Vladimir and for its own hedonistic sake. Musing over these and other thoughts, Kat reduced them to writing in her journal, a task that she found to her surprise took her almost two hours, and which was only interrupted then by her doorbell. The sound triggered a rush of adrenaline. Was it time already? The question, she knew instinctively, was rhetorical, the answer apparent the moment she opened the door. “Good morning, Kat,” Sharon said as she stepped through the open doorway followed by Ingrid carrying a small velvet covered satchel. “Your session with Ming is imminent. I’ve come to prepare you. Come, let’s go into the bedroom, shall we?” Kat followed the two other women meekly into her bedroom, the prospect of what lay immediately ahead generating within her ambivalent emotions — fear, heavily laced with curiosity and arousal. “Take off your clothes, Kat,” Sharon said, then to the maid, 133

Judith Devere

“Lay her things out on the bed, Ingrid.” In response to Sharon’s instruction, the German maid placed the satchel on the bed, unfastened it and began to remove the contents. One by one she began to lay out on the bed the things that Kat was clearly to wear for her impending meeting with Ming in her chambers. Naked now, Kat began to tremble slightly as she saw Ming’s intent. “Put them on, Kat,” Sharon said when the maid had finished. “Ingrid will help you where necessary.” Kat stared at the array of apparel lying on the bed before her, recognizing it for what it was — a dark parody of what she had worn the previous evening for her amorous liaison with Frederique. She began with the stockings, noting as she rolled them up her thighs the random holes that rendered them fit only for the garbage can. The shoes were bright red patent leather with six-inch spiked heels. Although used to moderately high heels, Kat found it quite difficult to walk elegantly in these, which was presumably the intention. Ingrid helped her don the satin basque — black, trimmed with red, and like the stockings, very much the worse for wear. The bodice had been slashed here and there, as if by a razor, to reveal expanses of Kat’s flesh beneath. Perhaps intentionally a size too small for her, when it was fully laced up, it cinched her waist so tightly that she felt momentarily faint. As with the more refined garment she had worn the previous evening, the basque left her breasts and belly naked. The pair of matching black and red crotchless panties served no purpose other than to draw attention to and frame Kat’s exposed sex and the protruding labia it could never quite contain. No satin choker to accompany this ensemble; instead, Ingrid now fastened tightly around Kat’s neck a black leather collar adorned with spiked metal studs. Seemingly oblivious to Kat’s profound embarrassment at being attired thus, Sharon watched with a professional eye as the 134

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

maid made the final adjustments, clipping the dangling suspenders to the stockings. There were only two of these, the others having been cut off asymmetrically so that the stocking tops were uneven and looked in imminent danger of slipping free altogether. “Yes,” Sharon said when Ingrid had done. “Exactly right. Now the makeup.” Reaching into the velvet bag, she removed the makeup valise Kat had seen many times before. One by one, she took out the various cosmetics: lipstick, eye shadow, mascara, blusher, applying each in turn to Kat’s face as an artist might paint to a canvas. When she had finished, she stepped back, smiled approvingly at the result. She seemed pleased. “Perfect. Take a look in the mirror, Kat.” Apprehensively, Kat turned to face the full length dressing mirror and gasped at what she saw. It was not the first time during her tenure at Chateau Levequ that her natural, fresh-faced and wholesome appearance had been transformed to that of the profligate wanton, but the reflection that stared back at her now was more shocking than anything she had seen previously. Deep blue eye shadow accentuated the impossibly pale, ice blue of her eyes, a phenomenon that, alone, might have lent her the appearance of an angel. As it was, though, the liberally applied blood-red lipstick, stark black mascara and vivid carmine blusher conspired to create the ultimate in licentious imagery — that of the angel turned whore. Worse, the angelic harlot in the mirror bore all the signs of having been thoroughly and recently used by a procession of successive clients. “Time to go, Kat.” Still stunned, Kat turned to look at Sharon. “Is there a cloak?” she asked, weakly. Sharon shook her head. Of course there would be no cloak; Ming’s parody would not extend to Kat’s being spared the stares 135

Judith Devere

of the servants as she moved through the house, previous experience should have told her that. “Go now. You know the way.” Kat turned away from the mirror, walked from the bedroom, through the lounge and out through the front door of her suite into the corridor. No escort this time, but then none was necessary since Kat knew her destination only too well. Ming would be aware, of course, that this walk of shame would be an ambivalent experience for her; that the acute embarrassment and shame of parading thus through the corridors of the chateau in broad daylight would vie with fierce arousal for dominance in her emotions. And already, as she descended the stairway, Kat could feel the moist quickening in her vulva, the self-lubrication of her labia so that they slid tantalizingly together as she walked. Her first encounter with the servants came as she crossed the landing on the first floor. Here two girls and a man who were cleaning the wall sconces stopped and stared as she walked by, head held high in an impossible endeavor to appear elegant. As she turned to descend the next flight of stairs to the ground floor, she heard the servants’ muffled murmurs. Although she could not discern what they were saying, they were clearly discussing her, the tone of their voices not only revealing gleeful mockery, but also — at least where the man was concerned — undisguised lechery. Perversely, this humiliation only served to arouse Kat even more intensely. By the time she reached the ground floor, her inner thighs were slick, her sex tingling unbearably. Just as she reached the cavernous front hallway, one of the big double front doors creaked open to reveal another black female servant leading the way in ahead of Madam SIN, and, Kat presumed, the two guests she had gone in the Aphrodite to meet. Kat stopped dead, shame and embarrassment instantly displacing all vestiges of arousal at the unexpected appearance of the elegant strangers. The couple, 136

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

a man and a woman, looked to be in their early forties. Standing just inside the hall now, they stared at the salacious spectacle before them, and in the eyes of both, Kat read unmistakable admiration…and lust. Her cheeks flushed hot, and she fought for a moment the impulse to cover her sex and breasts with her hands. But somehow knowing that Madam SIN would disapprove if she responded in that way, she simply stood there and said, “Good morning, Christina. Welcome back.” Madam SIN smiled, first at Kat and then at her guests as she saw their reaction. “Thank you, Kat. On your way to Ming’s chambers would be my guess?” Kat nodded. “Yes.” “Well, hardly conventional circumstances for an introduction, but nevertheless… Kat, I’d like you to meet James Vanderbruck and his wife, Margot. James, Margot, this is Kat. Although she is indentured to Armand she enjoys a somewhat privileged status here.” “Why, she’s charming, Christina,” James said, then added to Kat, “I won’t embarrass you further by shaking your hand, Kat.’ “Nor I,” his wife said. “No doubt we will get to know each other more intimately later.” Margot Vanderbruck’s accent and diction, like that of her husband, suggested privileged American origins. Raven haired, beautiful and trim, Margot Vanderbruck had that stereotypically perfect look of the successful woman living the American dream, as portrayed in high end magazine and television advertisements. Her clothing emphasized the image: a white two piece silk suit comprising a strapless tabard slit from waist to hem, boned and seamed to subtly emphasize the contours of her figure, worn over slim pants. Pale gold stiletto heeled sandals with double slender straps completed the elegant ensemble. James wore white slacks and a blue open necked polo shirt. If Margot Vanderbruck looked as if she were bound for some haute 137

Judith Devere

couture establishment in Paris or Rome, her husband was dressed for the yacht club. Like his wife, everything about James Vanderbruck suggested success, his general demeanor and air of supreme self-confidence exuding the essence of power and wealth. He was good-looking too, with flaxen hair and deep blue eyes. Madam SIN said, “Yes, indeed. Kat will join us for dinner at some stage in the next few days,” then added, roguishly, “If she is able to sit down by then, that is.” Kat noted the bemusement in both the Vanderbrucks’ expressions, and wondered if Madam SIN would explain the implications of the remark to them later. “But right now you had better get a move on, Kat. We mustn’t make you late for your appointment with Ming, must we?” Imagining, by a supreme act of will, that she was as appropriately attired as the Vanderbrucks for this impromptu meeting, Kat attempted to assume some small, if wildly incongruous, measure of decorum. Nodding politely, she said, “It was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to…” a fleeting glance at Margot here “…getting to know each other…more intimately.” Feeling she had wrested a minor triumph from the chance encounter, Kat turned and made her way along the central passageway, through the great dining hall with its array of shields and heraldic devices hanging high on the walls under the vaulted roof, into heart of the chateau. When she came to the door that led to the cellars, she opened it and descended the stone stairway. Was it only last night that she had taken this same route to be with Frederique in Le Sanctuaire? It seemed an age ago. Flickering sconces set in the stone walls illuminated the stairway and the passages. With a swell of erotic nostalgia for the previous evening, she passed the stairway that led down to The Sanctuary, heading instead for Ming’s chambers. As she turned a 138

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

corner the familiar arched entrance appeared ahead. She shivered, not from cold, but with apprehension at what awaited her beyond the stout oak door. The door swung inward with an ominous creak and Kat stepped into the main chamber. Like the passageways outside, it too was lit by flaming wall sconces that cast her shadow dancing across the stone-flagged floor. She was alone in the room, her surroundings once again evoking that now familiar dizzying combination of fear and arousal. She could imagine no more suitable domain for the Chinese dominatrix than this intimidating chamber and its smaller antechambers, each lying like points of the compass beyond three smaller versions of the main door. Indeed — although this may have been only Kat’s fanciful imagining — it seemed that the very structure, the stone itself, was infused with the essence of Ming’s dissolute and sadistic persona. Arches set on pillars spaced at intervals around the walls supported the vaulted, domed roof, reminding Kat once again of the subterranean Byzantine chapel she had visited in Turkey as a child. The chamber was austerely furnished. A number of carved wooden chairs and a sturdy refectory table took up an area on one side of the room, a pair of huge metal bound wooden chests on the opposite side. There were also several oddly shaped wooden benches and frame-like structures with whose dark purpose Kat had become ruefully familiar over the past months. At the center of the chamber, on a small raised dais, stood Ming’s own high-backed throne-like chair. Crafted from ancient oak, this was intricately carved with scenes of erotic discipline and punishment that defied imagination in their originality and inventiveness. From here Ming could survey the entire room, around which, at intervals on the walls, were fixed cupboards and wooden racks, the latter containing an extensive and diverse collection of instruments whose only purpose was to inflict pain and humiliation. These included an astonishing 139

Judith Devere

variety of whips, tawses, paddles, canes and switches, along with nipple and labia clamps and weights. As always, finding herself at the heart of this veritable armory of sadomasochistic accoutrements made Kat feel lightheaded and weak at the knees. But she had not long to contemplate, recollect, the devastating effect to which these could be put by one skilled in their use, because the door to the antechamber on her left suddenly opened to admit Ming. The first thing that struck Kat was the incongruity of Ming’s clothing. In her chambers she tended to favor leather or latex, feminine and revealing but aggressively gothic. This morning, however, she wore a slim, knee length black skirt and a white blouse with a high frilled collar. Her attire reminded Kat of one of the mistresses who had taught her at the exclusive private girls school she had attended as a child; except for two things — first, the spiked high heels of her black patent leather ankle boots, and second, the fact that, from the shoulders upward, Ming looked every bit the merciless dominatrix Kat knew her to be. Her hair hung straight to a point just below her jaw, cut square and level to form a fringe across her forehead and frame her face on either side. Glossy, blue/black, it emphasized her pale, bone china complexion, as, indeed, did the dark red lipstick she invariably wore. But it was her eyes more than anything else that hinted at the excesses of which she was capable. Their smokydark depths seemed to be constantly smoldering, randomly flecked with red and gold embers that flared then died in an instant. In a wild creature, those eyes would signal danger, communicate a warning that their owner possessed venomous fangs or a painful sting; the analogy, thought Kat as she regarded the woman now, was wholly appropriate. The click of Ming’s heels echoed in the chamber as she walked toward Kat, who lowered her eyes in deference. Ming walked slowly around Kat, carefully inspecting the manner in 140

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

which Sharon had prepared her. Seemingly satisfied, she moved around to the front again and placed her fingers under Kat’s chin. In response to the pressure of Ming’s hand, Kat raised her head to meet the other woman’s eyes. “You look like a whore, Kat; a cheap slut, which is very apt after last night’s performance, wouldn’t you say, my dear?” Not immediately understanding, Kat replied, “Performance?” quickly adding “Mistress” as she remembered her present situation. Ming’s deep red lips skewed into a cynical smile. “Whoring for the shemale in Le Sanctuaire. Over three hours, I’m told. Is that right?” Kat felt her face burn with embarrassment. “I…” she began, turning her eyes from Ming’s. She tried to speak but words simply wouldn’t form. Ming’s hand flew out with cobra-like speed to deliver a flurry of back and forth slaps across Kat’s breasts, transforming them to almost the same shade of red as her blush. Crying out in response to the painful blows, Kat resisted the defensive urge to cover her breasts with her hands. “Answer me, whore,” Ming snarled. Eager to avoid another slapping, Kat nodded hurriedly. “Ye..yes…Mistress.” “What was it like? Did you enjoy it?” Another nod — truth at all times. “Yes…Mistress.” “Tell me,” Ming said, walking across the chamber to one of the wall cupboards, “have you ever seen anything like Frederique before; male and female in the same body?” Opening the cupboard door now, reaching inside. Kat shook her head. “Never. I was…astonished.” Carrying something in one hand — Kat couldn’t see what — Ming walked back to Kat. “She…fucked you?” Kat broke momentarily free of Ming’s gaze. “Yes,” she 141

Judith Devere

whispered. “Of course she did. Open your legs. Place your feet farther apart, I want to put this on you.” Kat now saw that Ming held in her hand a metal rod about two and a half feet long, to each end of which a padded manacle was attached by a chain. Having been subjected to its use on numerous occasions, Kat recognized the implement at once — a spreader bar, its purpose to keep the wearer’s legs spread wide, thus exposing her sex and making it more readily accessible. Obediently, she set her feet wide apart on the floor. Ming bent on one knee, snapped the manacles onto Kat’s ankles. Now, even if she were of a mind to, Kat could no longer close her legs. Rising, Ming said, “Now, give me your hands.” As Kat held out her hands, Ming produced a pair of leather cuffs, each fitted with a buckle and a spring clip. She fastened these tightly around Kat’s wrists then said, “Raise your hands to your neck.” When Kat obeyed, Ming snapped the clips onto metal loops on either side of the collar toward the back. This doubled Kat’s forearms against her upper arms and prevented her from moving her hands more than an inch in any direction. It also forced her elbows up level with her shoulders, at the same time lifting and tensing her breasts. Ming smiled, took Kat’s right nipple between her finger and thumb and leaned forward to kiss her hard on the mouth. Kat moaned in response, both to the pain in her nipple as Ming pinched and twisted it, and to the slithery thrill as the middle finger of Ming’s other hand slid deep into her vulva. Squeezing Kat’s nipple harder and insinuating the invading finger this way and that inside her, Ming now placed her mouth close to Kat’s ear. “With her…cock?” Ming’s voice low, husky now, as she emphasized the rhetorical question with a deep thrust of the questing finger. Her mind in turmoil, Kat did not fully comprehend the 142

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

question for a moment, separated as it was from its predecessor by Ming’s sudden assault on her senses. When she did pick up the conversational thread again it was entangled with her vocal responses to what Ming was doing to her. “Yes. Oooh, please.” “Say it. Tell me.” “But… Ooh. OOOH.” “What is the problem, whore? Is it the pain in your nipple?” “Or the finger fucking?” Kat’s knees were starting to buckle. “Oooh… Aah. I… b…both, Mistress.” “Answer the question.” “Aaah.” Nodding vigorously now. “Yes, Mistress. Wi…With her c…cock.” “And it was good?” Both the pain in her nipple and the delicious sensation in her sex were intensifying as Kat stammered her reply. “Ye…yes. I… Oh, God…yes. It was…very good. Ooh. Oh m…m…my! Oh, pl…please, Mis...Mistress.” Ming suddenly released Kat’s aching nipple, withdrew the impaling finger. A heavy sigh escaped Kat’s lips and she slumped forward, nearly stumbling over in the process. “So, you enjoyed being fucked by the shemale?” Kat moaned softly, her head hung low, her inner thighs glistening. “Answer me, slut!” Kat recoiled as Ming reinforced the order by another series of vicious slaps to her breasts. “Yes, Mistress!” she screamed. “Say it, whore.” “Yes, Mistress, I enjoyed being f… fucked by… the… shemale.” Ironically, the words Ming had coerced her to use to make this confession evoked in Kat both sexual arousal and guilt, the 143

Judith Devere

latter because they were undoubtedly denigrating to Frederique, which seemed exactly Ming’s intention. Only now did it occur to Kat that Ming was, in a way, behaving uncharacteristically. It seemed that she resented Kat’s developing relationship with Frederique. Could it be that Ming — aloof, cold-hearted Ming — was actually capable of…jealousy? Kat mentally filed the thought away for possible future strategic use. “Very well, then,” Ming cooed, “we must make sure that the whore gets what she enjoys, mustn’t we? But first, some wine.” Ming walked to her chair in the center of the room, picked up a glass of red wine from the small round table beside it and returned to Kat. Holding out the glass to her, she said, “Drink, Kat, it will…warm you up.” Kat felt the pulse at her temples throb as she took the glass from Ming and drank from it. As usual, there was nothing about the exquisite taste of the claret to suggest that it contained an aphrodisiac, which Kat was certain it did. When Kat had finished the wine, Ming took the glass from her and set it aside. “You see, my dear? Frederique isn’t the only one who knows how to pamper you. Come with me now.” Hampered by the spreader bar, Kat hobbled as best she could after Ming, following her to the door from which she had emerged just a few minutes earlier. Ming opened the door and led Kat into the antechamber, essentially a smaller version of the main chamber. Kat’s dual reactions to what she found there were surprise and alarm; surprise because the antechamber looked very different than when she had last seen it, alarm because, almost certainly, its present, mystifying guise meant that she was about to experience some new diabolical ordeal. Ming, who was nothing if not resourceful, seemed capable of infinite innovation in her quest to devise ever more lubricious and agonizing forms of torment. When Kat had last been here the antechamber had been furnished with wardrobes and chests that contained a vast 144

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

collection of fetish clothing and paraphernalia which Ming sometimes incorporated into her training sessions, but these had all been removed and the room was now barely recognizable. Softly lit in glowing but muted shades of red, orange, purple and blue that constantly moved in a random, kaleidoscopic way, it looked like a theatrical setting for a dream sequence, or, more likely perhaps, a nightmare.. In the center of the antechamber stood a big, silver framed baroque mirror, perhaps six feet tall and four feet wide. In front of the mirror, and separated from it by about six feet, was a wooden contraption reminiscent of athletic asymmetric bars, the nearer to the mirror being higher than the further. On the floor, just in front of the higher of the two bars was a low circular wooden dais about the dimensions of a coffee table. Taking Kat by the arm, Ming led Kat closer to the bars, which she now saw were padded and covered with leather at the center. Ming maneuvered Kat in front of the mirror until the tops of her thighs and hips pressed against the lower bar. Then, moving in between the bars, she took hold of Kat’s pinioned arms and guided her upper body forward and down until her upper arms came to rest in two padded channels in the higher, forward bar. Now, bent forward at an upward angle across the bars, and held in place by her own bodyweight, Kat was as helpless as if she had been bound to them. There was no way she could possibly extricate herself without Ming’s assistance, and that was clearly not a likely contingency in the immediate future. After standing aside and eyeing Kat from several different vantage points, Ming seemed satisfied that she was positioned satisfactorily for what she had in mind. Looking at Kat’s reflection in the mirror, she spoke. “Very well. Pay attention now, Kat. From this point on, until I direct you otherwise, you will keep your eyes on the mirror. Do you understand?” 145

Judith Devere

“Yes, Mistress,” Kat croaked, her voice dry with anxiety. Looking into the mirror as Ming had instructed, she noticed for the first time a strange phenomenon; her reflection was slightly clouded by what looked like swirling mist. She also saw now that the mirror’s ornately molded silver frame depicted, in sharp relief, scenes of unbridled debauchery, suggestive of the collaborative talents of Breughel and Bosch under the influence of LSD. Mediaeval monks wielding wine spilling chalices impaled semi-naked nuns on impossibly huge penises; groups of satyrs and centaurs debased lovely wood nymphs; goblins, demons and dwarfs engaged females from puberty to late middle age in every imaginable sexual practice. But for all the rapacious nature of the acts portrayed, without exception the expressions on the faces of the characters inhabiting this domain of rampageous lechery revealed a single commonality — the unequivocal espousing and celebration of orgiastic excess. As Kat gazed on these lurid scenes, the mysterious ingredient in the wine began to work its libidinous mischief. She could almost feel the increased flow of blood to her clitoris, making it swell and yearn to be touched, to be stroked and rubbed. She shivered as a trickle of moisture seeped from between her labia onto her inner thigh. And as if she were not aroused enough already, Ming’s reflection in the mirror now began to unfasten its blouse. That Ming was not wearing a brassiere became apparent when she shrugged the garment free, allowing it to fall to the floor and reveal her breasts. Kat barely managed to stifle a sigh at the sight of the small pubescent-like mounds, tipped with tender pink-coned nipples. Next the skirt. As it too fell to the floor, leaving Ming naked save for a minuscule black thong, Kat marveled for what might have been the hundredth time at the girlish perfection of the other woman’s slender, sylph-like body. Once again, despite her present predicament, she admired the 146

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

flawless pale ivory skin that somehow contrived to conceal the toned musculature beneath, and although she could not see them, imagined the firm, smoothly rounded buttocks. Seeing Ming naked thus, an uninformed observer would not begin to suspect the truth — that CHIANG Ming was endowed with strength and stamina to more than equal many men. As if she were reading Kat’s thoughts, Ming smiled as she slipped her thumbs into her thong at the hip and bent from the waist to slide it down her thighs and calves to the floor. Kicking the garment aside, she looked at Kat in the mirror. “Like what you see, Kat?” Kat swallowed hard. “Yes, Mistress. You have a beautiful body.” “But there’s something missing isn’t there?” “Missing?” Ming moved out of Kat’s view momentarily. When she appeared again, something was dangling from her hand. She moved around in front of Kat to stand between her and the mirror. “Look,” she said, holding out her hand to show Kat what was in it. Kat stared at the contraption for a moment, then gasped as she comprehended. “I can’t think why I haven’t used this on you before now,” Ming said, matter-of-factly. “An oversight, obviously. Know what it is?” Wide eyed, Kat whispered, “I…think so, Mistress.” “Yes, even to someone with your sheltered background it must be rather obvious, I suppose.” Indeed, it was obvious, but as if to eliminate any residual doubt, Ming added, “It’s a strap-on double penis made of latex — for women who like cock but not men. It’s similar to the double dildo you experienced during your mid-contract test, except that this one is designed for use by one woman on 147

Judith Devere

another. Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hardly the word Kat would have chosen, but awesome, certainly. Although nowhere near the dimensions of Jacob’s enormous member, the twin replicas dangling from their harness before Kat’s eyes now were nevertheless very substantial in size. “Bigger than Frederique’s, Kat?” Ming said, tauntingly. “Yes, Mistress.” “Yes. And quite unique, also. I designed and crafted it myself.” This statement came as no surprise to Kat, merely serving as a reminder that Ming was amazingly accomplished in a whole range of skills and disciplines, including psychology, martial arts, pharmacology, information technology, micro engineering and fashion design. “Let me show you how it works. As you see, there are two cocks; one for the wearer and one for the…um…” Ming looking meaningfully at Kat, “…subject.” Dangling the harness in front of Kat, Ming continued, “This one — the one that will be fucking you — is solid but pliant. And notice the veins; just like the real thing. The other, which, as you see is really an angled extension of the first, goes inside me. And here’s the really clever part; this cock is electrically driven. Within its latex skin, it expands and contracts, moving up and down in direct correlation to the thrusting of my hips, so that the overall effect, for wearer and subject, is as close to male/female copulation as present day technology will allow. But I digress.” Turning away, Ming returned to her original position behind Kat. Smiling at her in the mirror, she said, “We don’t want to spoil the mood by getting too technical, do we?” “Aaaahh.” Kat’s body stiffened in response to the unexpected riffle of Ming’s fingers over her clitoris and through her saturated cleft. Ming laughed. “But no, no need to worry on that score where 148

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the little whore is concerned. She’s more than ready, I think.” Striding back around the asymmetrical bars again, Ming mounted the dais to stand directly in front of Kat. Looking down on her hapless victim, she raised a hand to her own her right breast, caressing and teasing the nipple, while the fingers of her other hand reached for her loins, slipping between her labia to delve languorously into her sex. Her eyes had taken on a distant look. “Uhmm,” she suspired, softly. “Unlike you, Kat, I think I am in need of a little…stimulation, before we proceed.” Turning her back on Kat, Ming placed her feet wide apart on the dais and bent from the hip to place her hands on her thighs just above the knees. Looking back at Kat over her shoulder, she said, “I think you know what Mistress requires of you?” Of that, there was not the slightest doubt in Kat’s mind, for Ming’s parted thighs and buttocks were no more than two or three inches from her face now. Kat felt the cool trickle of fluid oozing steadily from her own sex down onto her thighs as she stared at the prospect of Ming’s smoothly shaven vulva, surmounted, just a pinch above, by the puckered amber star of her anus. Inhaling through flared nostrils, Kat almost swooned at the heady intimate aromas emanating from the woman. Ming eased backward, until the swollen lips of her sex pressed against Kat’s mouth. Kat parted her own lips, slipping her tongue into the delicious divide of the other woman’s vulva. In truth, it seemed to Kat, Ming hardly needed any ‘stimulation’; like Kat’s, her sex was awash with her arousal. In response to Kat’s probing tongue, she pushed backward, rotating her hips so that her dripping labia painted Kat’s face with the copious musk laden effusion. Undeterred, Kat redoubled her efforts, fervently thrusting and turning her tongue alternately between the pleats of Ming’s cleft and the taboo orifice above it. At length, Ming pulled away from Kat with a low, feral growl. 149

Judith Devere

“Enough. Time to rut the whore, I think.” Turning to face Kat, Ming raised the harness to her thighs. “Watch. You may want to do this yourself at some time in the future.” Parting her thighs and bending at the knee, Ming began to insert the electrically operated artificial penis into her sex. As the latex organ slid up inside her, her eyes half closed and a beatific smile elongated her lips, somehow lending her an entirely inappropriate saintly look. As she strapped the harness to her hips, Kat saw that the whole contraption matched exactly the pale ivory tone of Ming’s flesh. When it was in place, Ming looked down at Kat. Eyes wide, her expression almost fierce now, she looked like some rapacious warrior queen — except that the term ‘queen’ was hardly appropriate, for now the parody was complete. The rigid penis jutting threateningly from her loins in mocking emulation of the lovely Frederique, Ming had now become the hermaphrodite. As she walked around Kat to stand behind her again, she drew a long manicured fingernail across Kat’s shoulders, down along her spine and through the cleft of her buttocks. Kat shuddered in response, a ripple of raw sensuality coursing through her body. “Now remember, eyes on the mirror, whore.” As Kat obediently stared into the swirling mist in the mirror, a strange thing began to happen. The images reflected in the glass began to change, the scene dissolving to be incrementally superseded by another. Kat and Ming remained central to the new scene also, each still in their respective positions, but now the angle of view was different; as if undergoing an out-of-body experience, Kat was now looking at herself and Ming from somewhere on her right flank. Her senses were in total disarray, her mind spinning. Was she hallucinating under the influence of whatever substance Ming had used to lace her wine? She 150

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

watched, transfixed, as Ming placed one hand on her left buttock while using the other to guide the rigid cock toward her defenseless sex. She gasped as the rounded head nuzzled between her labia, inching forward under the pressure of Ming’s hips. A muted hum signaled the starting up of the device lodged deep inside Ming’s vulva. The cock began to sink into Kat, driving the breath from her lungs. The effort of breathing in again against the tightly constricting basque made her lightheaded, a phenomenon that was in no way relieved by the new image that was now crystallizing in the mirror. The viewpoint this time was overhead. As if from the ceiling of the antechamber Kat gazed down through the mist at herself and Ming. Through the valley of her own parted buttocks, in stark detail, she could see as well as feel the artificial cock gradually impaling her, the thick shaft stretching her as it forged inexorably deeper. And as she watched, her mouth and eyes agape, the image enlarged in close-up so that she was now witnessing her penetration by Ming from only inches away. Suddenly she understood: cameras. Although cleverly concealed, a battery of closed circuit television cameras was obviously set around the antechamber, each with a different take on whatever was happening before the mirror. The mirror itself doubled as a monitor, allowing the various images to play on its surface as if they were actual reflections — yet another product of Ming’s innovative genius, no doubt. Kat wondered briefly if Ming were somehow controlling the sequence of images in the mirror or if they were programmed for random selection; wondered only briefly because it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to focus on anything other than the thick latex cock burrowing inside her Ming’s hips moved fluidly now in a rhythm that was as old her species, the cock shuttling back and forth in the clinging sheath of Kat’s sex. She had begun slowly but was gradually picking up 151

Judith Devere

the meter. The only noise to be heard in the antechamber now was that of Kat’s labored breathing and the liquid squelching made by the dildo as it slid easily to and fro in the sodden folds of her cleft. Before long, Ming was slamming the dildo into Kat with the rapid ferocity of a ruthless rapist, her breathing labored too now from arousal and exertion. Her thighs slapped wetly against Kat’s buttocks with each savage thrust, Kat’s breasts jouncing almost painfully in response. As she neared orgasm, Ming began to grunt like a rutting deer, the sound driving Kat’s screaming nerves closer to climax also. Abruptly, it was upon both women, simultaneous and explosive in intensity. At the moment of release, Ming gripped Kat’s hips tightly, slamming the cock deep and hard with machine-like rapidity. Kat’s scream of deliverance echoed around the antechamber, her body convulsing as Ming continued to drive into her throughout her own orgasm. The sounds of carnal release slowly subsided, supplanted by ragged panting as both women strove to draw much needed air into their lungs. Both were sweating profusely, their bodies slick, as with random splashes of glowing wet paint under the antechamber’s kaleidoscopic lighting. A deep sigh escaped Kat’s lips as Ming at last pulled free from her, withdrawing the glistening artificial penis from her depths. “Well?” Ming said, breathlessly, “Did Mistress’s whore enjoy that?” Still panting, Kat replied, “Oh…yes…Mistress. Very much.” “Hm. So which hermaphrodite do you prefer, my dear? Mistress Ming or Frederique?” Knowing what her answer must be, Kat said, “Oh, Mistress Ming, of course,” and although she might later revise her opinion when she had had time to reflect on the comparison, in that fleeting moment, she meant it. “Of course Mistress Ming. How could it be otherwise?” 152

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Leaning forward, Ming grasped Kat by the hair and pulled her backward. “Up now, slut. Time for your punishment.” Encumbered by her restraints, Kat rose falteringly, her heart sinking in her breast as the word ‘punishment’ rang in her ears. She had begun to think — but should have known better — that Ming was only interested in slaking her lust on this occasion. But no; where her life at Chateau Levequ was concerned, ecstasy and pleasure invariably had to be paid for in pain and anguish. How could she have forgotten that? “Go to that rack by door, Kat. Bring me the riding crop.” Obediently, but willing time to slow down or even stop, Kat hobbled toward the door through which they had entered the antechamber. In a rack on the wall beside the door was a selection of whips and canes. Among these, about halfway up the rack, was a leather bound riding crop. Kat turned slightly sideways, pushing up on the balls of her feet to try to reach it with her right hand — by no means an easy task with her wrist attached to her collar. “No,” Ming called. “Use your mouth, not your hand.” Of course, thought Kat, far more humiliating that way. Opening her mouth, she leaned forward to grip the shaft of the riding crop between her teeth, removed it from the rack then shuffled awkwardly back to Ming. “Very good. You make a fine retriever, Kat, even with the spreader bar in place. Now give me the crop as a retriever would deliver the pheasant.” For a moment, Kat was totally perplexed. Fortunately, she realized what Ming expected just as the dominatrix began to frown her displeasure at her tardy response. She quickly dropped to her knees, the stone floor cold, hard. Bending forward — and almost falling in the process — she lowered her head, her cheek brushing against the shiny leather of Ming’s boots as she placed the riding crop on the floor in front of them. 153

Judith Devere

“Very good,” Ming said. “Done like a pedigree bitch. Now get up off the floor and stand up straight.” Kat tried to rise, but found it impossible with he ankles shackled to the spreader bar. Seeing her difficulty, Ming grasped Kat by the hair and hauled to her to her feet. As she straightened her spine and pushed back her shoulders, Kat was acutely conscious of the tightening and brazen jutting of her breasts. Ming leered at the effect as she unfastened the dildo harness and began to remove it. Her eyelids fluttered and a silken sigh escaped her lips as the inner dildo slid smoothly out of her sex. Dropping the contraption on the floor, she strode across the antechamber to a set of drawers, one of which she opened and reached inside. When she returned to Kat, she had a lipstick in one hand. Holding it up so that Kat could see it, she took off the top and twisted up the deep scarlet column. “Now, keep still while I do this.” Kat remained stock still as Ming applied the lipstick, first to her naked right breast, then the left. Then Ming bent on one knee, her face level with Kat’s sex as she traced the lipstick across her lower belly, just above the crotchless panties. Rising to her feet again, Ming said, “Now go and stand in front of the mirror, facing it.” Stumbling back to stand before the long mirror, Kat gaped at the prospect of her reflection. As if being dressed like some ruined harlot were not enough, Ming had now added the finishing touches to this persona. On her right breast the word “Ming’s” preceded “Slut” on the left, while below, drawing attention to the divide in her panties where her naked sex was on display, the word “Whore” was written across her belly. Even in their mirror image the scarlet words were starkly recognizable. Ming appeared at Kat’s side. Looking at her through the mirror, she said, “Very fetching, I think. And totally appropriate, is it not?” 154

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“I… Yes, Mistress.” “So, what are you, Kat? Read it out loud.” Kat swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry. Willing herself to hold Ming’s gaze in the mirror, she answered, “I am Ming’s…slut…whore.” “And now it is time for slut whore’s punishment…which is for what offence?” “For being late for breakfast this morning, Mistress.” Ming waited a moment, presumably to see if Kat would try to protest her innocence again. But Kat had more sense, and when she made no such appeal, Ming said, “Yes. You can be a willful girl at times, Kat. But we will cure you before you leave Chateau Levequ, for which you may thank me in advance.” “Thank you, Mistress.” “You are most welcome. Now, in deference to Vladimir’s representation and the fact that you are to appear in a scenario sometime in the next few days, I will limit your punishment on this occasion to just six strokes of the riding crop. And I think we will do it the traditional way this time; the public school way. You will count each stroke and thank me very much for each.” “Very well, Mistress.” “But before we begin, I need to make you a little more…accessible.” So saying, Ming moved behind Kat, gripped either side of the divide in her crotchless panties and ripped them asunder to fully expose her bare bottom. “Better. Now, eyes on the mirror, Kat. Are you ready?” “Yes, Mistress.” The words were barely out of Kat’s mouth when the air was snatched from her lungs by the shock of the first stroke. She had not even seen Ming move, but move she had, laying the crop across Kat’s buttocks with unbelievable force. It took several seconds for Kat to suck enough air back into her lungs to give voice to her pain. Her scream rang loud in her ears, but even 155

Judith Devere

before it had subsided, Ming delivered a second stroke of the riding crop. The kiss of the plaited leather felt like a white hot wire being pressed against her bottom. “Well?” Ming’s voice jolted Kat from her agonized introspection. Th…thank you very “One, Mistress…oooooh. much…aah…Mistress. Two, Mist…” The scene in the mirror changed, treating Kat to a rear view of her buttocks. “No, Kat,” Ming said, softly. “You were too slow; the count and your thanks must immediately follow each stroke. We will discount the second stroke and continue from one. And try not to scream, it’s so undignified.” This time Ming waited what seemed an age to Kat, whose buttocks, already vividly striped with two parallel welts, were tightly clenched against the next stroke. When it came, Kat clamped her mouth tightly shut so as not to allow the inevitable scream to escape. The effort made her lungs feel as if they might explode. The pain permeated her buttocks, spreading in a wave of tingling warmth to her belly and womb. It hurt dreadfully, but with a terrible irony, exacerbated her arousal also. “Aaah…two, Mistress. Thank you very much, Mistress.” “Th…three…Mistress. Thank you…nng…very much, Mistress.” And so it continued, the images in the mirror alternately depicting each successive stroke with its resultant welt, and Kat’s pain contorted facial expression…until the final stroke had been delivered. Through a veil of tears, Kat stared at her bottom in the mirror; at the seven glowing stripes which, she knew from experience, would remain as evidence of this punishment for a day or more. The intense pain would subside slowly over the next hour or so, but she would be very tender for much longer. There 156

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

would be no bruising, of course. Ming was conscious that Kat would soon perform in the scenario Vladimir had written for Madam SIN’s guests, and since that performance would undoubtedly entail total or partial nudity, bruised buttocks were not an option. That avoiding this had not posed a problem was a testament to Ming’s remarkable expertise in the administering of corporal punishment. Moving around Kat to face her again, Ming reached with her hand to Kat’s face and wiped away the tears from under her eyes with her thumb. “Well, now that’s done, it’s shopping time,” she said breezily. Kat sniffed. “Shopping, Mistress?” she repeated, perplexed. “Yes, Kat. I want you to run an errand for me. Into the village. You should enjoy it; you remember the pretty girl who took your fancy at the fruit stall? Paula?” “Mistress?” Kat replied, startled that Ming should know anything about her brief encounter with the lovely blonde stallholder in the village — especially since she and Kat had barely spoken. What little had taken place in the fleeting exchange, however, had left Kat in no doubt of their attraction to each other. Somehow, it seemed, Ming knew this also. “Oh, Kat, don’t be coy. There’s very little I don’t know about here on the island, especially where you are concerned. Anyway, I want you to go to the village now and get me a kilo of peaches from Paula.” “Very well, Mistress,” Kat answered, trying not to show her surprise that Ming should require her to do something so mundane. “I’ll go and shower and get dressed.” “Ming,” the other woman prompted. “Your punishment is over now; you may call me by name again. But there’s no need to shower or dress. Go now, at once, just as you are.” Kat was horrified. “But, Ming… You mean…” She looked down, scanning her appearance as if to confirm her 157

Judith Devere

wretchedness. “…that I must walk through the village looking like…this?” “Ah, as well you reminded me. No, not exactly like that. Wait a moment.” Ming bent on one knee and released Kat’s ankles from the spreader bar. Putting it aside, she rose again and continued, “It becomes you very well, but is hardly practical for a shopping trip. The wrists will remain shackled to your collar though.” Ming smiled enigmatically. “Paula will be your hands. Go now, you’ll find transportation waiting for you in the drive by the front door.” “Can’t I just…?” “Do you want another half dozen stripes, Kat?” “No, Ming,” Kat replied hurriedly. “I’m sorry. I’ll go right away.” Eager to avoid more strokes from the riding crop, she turned and left the antechamber as quickly as she could. As she crossed the main chamber toward the door to the passageway she heard Ming’s laughter echoing behind her. By way of contrast, the magnificent coach standing in the driveway seemed to emphasize Kat’s degradation and sordid appearance. Drawn by four splendid horses, it gleamed like black lacquer. On the doors, painted in red and gold, was the Levequ coat of arms Kat knew so well, especially the quadrant that contained the upright sword with the serpent coiled around the length of the blade. Feeling like some post-midnight debauched version of Cinderella, she half expected the coach to turn into an equally salacious version of a pumpkin; a giant cucumber, perhaps? The coachman opened the door for Kat. He was a handsome young black who didn’t look a day over eighteen, but Kat doubted that anyone quite so young would have been recruited to Chateau Levequ, so he was probably older than he looked. But his youth — and the audacious way he looked at her, barely bothering to conceal a lecherous leer — embarrassed Kat more 158

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

than she would have thought possible. When they were underway, she yielded to the burning itch between her thighs, squeezing them together to compress her clitoris between the slick swollen lips of her sex. Although on one level she hated it, the pain and the humiliation Ming had inflicted on her had, as always, set her mind and body aflame with uncontrollable lust. The coach shuddered and vibrated as it trundled along the cobbled lane, so that all she had to do to maintain the pressure on her clitoris was keep her thigh muscles firmly clenched. So fiercely aroused was she that she climaxed in less than a minute, simultaneously stretching out her legs and toes, and not even attempting to stifle the long low groan that accompanied the orgasm. The coach rattled through the narrow streets of the village to the square where, Kat was horrified to see, there were many more people than had been here on her previous visit. Worse, they seemed to have massed around the fruit stall. Stopping the coach in front of the tavern, the coachman opened the door and lowered the steps. Vainly trying to summon some semblance of dignity, Kat allowed him to grip her shackled wrist to help her descend the steps. A hush fell over the square, all eyes on her now as she walked toward the fruit stall. The men and women crowding around the stall parted to allow her access. “Good morning, Kat.” Paula was standing beside the stall, her appearance the very antithesis of Kat’s. Even without the proclamation in scarlet lipstick emblazoned on her breasts and belly, Kat looked every inch the dissolute whore. Paula, by contrast, might have stepped from the pages of Country Life. Fresh faced and slightly freckled, she wore no lipstick, and it would have been impossible to enhance her peaches and cream complexion with cosmetics. Her flaxen hair hung over her shoulders in braids, catching highlights from the morning sun. She wore a full skirt in cornflower blue 159

Judith Devere

and an oatmeal lace-up bodice over a white chemise with full sleeves and a square neckline that revealed only merest glimpse of cleavage. Like the splendid coach Kat had arrived in, Paula’s wholesome appearance made her feel all the more wretched. As she approached the stall, on which all manner of luscious exotic fruits were displayed in baskets, the silence dissolved, displaced by low murmuring and whispering…even a few lecherous sniggers. But the overall atmosphere was one of intense interest and electric tension. Paula was smiling. “I’ve been expecting you, Kat,” she said, her demeanor not even hinting that she found Kat’s appearance in any way unconventional. “What would you like?” “Hello, Paula. I’d like…a kilo of peaches, please.” “Surely. Come closer, let me pack them for you.” At this the onlookers spread apart to form at sort of arena, in the center of which Kat waited while Paula busied herself behind the stall. When Paula reappeared she was carrying three string net bags, each filled with peaches, and a small leather valise which, alarmingly, reminded Kat of the kind used to house dueling pistols. Placing these things on the front of the stall, Paula opened the valise and began to remove something from inside. “Come closer, please, Kat.” Kat stepped up close to Paula who leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Kat, I’m so sorry. I have to do this. Please forgive me.” As she spoke, she raised her right hand to Kat’s left breast running her fingers down the upper slope to the nipple. “Aah,” Kat breathed softly, shivering as Paula pinched the nipple, not hard, but firmly enough to cause it to swell instantly. Then Kat felt something cool encircle the nipple between Paula’s finger and thumb and the areola. She looked down, saw with dismay that Paula had slipped a silver clamp around her nipple 160

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

and was tightening it now by means of a little screw at one side. “Oh,…aah…it hurts.” “I know, Kat,” Paula lowering her voice so that the onlookers couldn’t hear. “But you must be brave. Ming wants you break down, to beg. Are you going to give her that satisfaction?” In that moment, Kat resolved that, no matter how bad this trial was to be, she would not, under any circumstances, ‘break down’. And more, she swore to herself that one way or another she would some day take her revenge on Ming for all the abuses and shame and anguish she had subjected her to since she had come to Chateau Levequ. But her resolve was being tested already as the clamp bit more tightly on her nipple, producing that exquisite combination of pain and arousal that Kat had thus far not come close to understanding. And now Paula was working on her right nipple, fixing a second clamp to the already swollen bud. When she stepped back to reach into the valise again, Kat looked down at her breasts and saw that the shiny metal clamps had rings attached to them. She was about to discover their purpose. When Paula turned to Kat again she was holding a strange contrivance fashioned from a single piece of wire that was about twice the gauge of that used for making metal coat hangers. The wire had been bent in various directions and angles so that it somewhat resembled a diviner’s rod in appearance. Mystified as to its purpose, Kat watched with trepidation as Paula approached her with it. Taking hold of Kat’s basque by the quarter cup that supported her bare left breast, she slid one of the two upright ends of the device down into an insert in the satin close to her armpit. She then slotted the other upright into an identical insert on the outer side of Kat’s right breast, the wire between the two uprights now projecting forward in a horizontal arc beyond Kat’s breasts. Having fixed the frame-like device in place, Paula grasped the wire at the front, and pulled firmly on it as if to test 161

Judith Devere

its firmness. Seemingly satisfied, she said, “Yes, that will do, I think.” Selecting one of the net bags containing peaches, Paula held it level with Kat’s abdomen. Looking down, Kat now saw that the bag, tied at the neck, was fastened to a length of twine, to end of which a spring clip was attached. As Paula fastened the spring clip to the ring on Kat’s left nipple, Kat began to understand the ordeal she was about to undergo. Once the clip was in place, Paula slipped the twine into a narrow kink in the cross bar of the frame, then lowered the bag of peaches until the twine hung taut and perpendicular from the bar. Slowly, delicately, Paula lowered the hand that, until now, had supported the peaches. As she did so, their weight was transferred to the twine, which in turn pulled on the ring attached to Kat’s nipple, stretching it cruelly. The pain was exquisite and brought tears to Kat’s eyes at once. And when Paula fixed the second bag of peaches to her right breast in the same fashion, the pain was almost unbearable. Kat bit her lip, willing herself not to cry out or plead for compassion. But Paula was not done; carrying the third bag of peaches to Kat, she said, “Place your feet wider apart, please, Kat. I have to put these on you.” Kat looked at Paula’s open palm, saw that it contained two more silver clamps. These, though, were different in size and shape to those fixed to her nipples, and were rather like crocodile clips. Paula lowered herself to the ground on one knee, her face now level with Kat’s exposed vagina. The fact that Kat’s labia were so prominent and protruded slightly from her sex made Paula’s task somewhat easier because she was easily able to take hold of each in turn to fasten the clamps onto them. Strangely, although painful, these did not hurt so intensely as the clamps on her nipples. But now Kat stared in apprehension as Paula attached the third bag of peaches to the clamps on her labia. As Paula slowly lowered the bag, its weight stretched the 162

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

lips of Kat’s sex to almost twice their normal length, and an agonizing but profoundly arousing ache began to swell deep in her vulva. “That’s it, Kat,” Paula said. “You may go back to the chateau now.” Without quite knowing why, unless it was an unconscious show of bravado, Kat said, “Thank you, Paula.” This had a strange effect on the other woman who moved to her side and kissed her full on the lips, an act which would not have been possible from the front now because of the intervening paraphernalia. Once again Paula’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I really am sorry, dear. Come back and see me when you can and I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Kat forced a smile through her tears, turned around and began to walk — or rather, hobble — back toward the coach. As the crowd parted to let her through, someone started to clap. Others followed suit and soon the square was ringing with applause. Whether this was a show of spontaneous support or admiration for the way Kat had faced up to her torment, or a further display of derision, she had no way of knowing. She looked straight on, avoiding eye contact with any of the spectators, and held her head high. As she walked, she saw herself portrayed in her own mind’s eye: slashed satin basque cinching her waist; ragged stockings hanging from barely serviceable suspenders; bright red patent leather shoes; wrists shackled to the spiked collar; her self-condemnation written in lipstick on her breasts and belly; and her shaven sex on display from crotchless panties. All this was bad enough, but now, to add further insult and injury she was forced to stumble painfully across the cobbled square with the two bags of peaches swinging from her sorely stretched nipples and the third bag dangling from her now elongated labia. The combination of her six-inch heels and the 163

Judith Devere

peaches swinging between her knees made her progress back to the coach slow and precarious. But at last she was there, the coachman actually smirking at her wretched condition. But despite the young man’s apparent disdain, she was at least able to take some comfort from the fact that, judging by the rigid bulge in his britches, he was very aroused by what he saw. Seeing this, Kat forced a smile at him and was gratified at its effect. Gone in an instant was the smirk, replaced by a darkening of his complexion in an unlikely blush that Kat found strangely touching. He helped her up into the carriage where she was forced to perch on the very edge of the seat. The journey back to the chateau, though mercifully short, was an agonizing one for Kat. Yet, throughout, her arousal remained as intense as ever, and she even found herself fantasizing longingly about Jacob’s monstrous cock. The short trip across the square had been a trial, and the journey back to the chateau a nightmare, but even Kat’s return to Ming’s chambers, down the stairway and along the convoluted passage was by no means a pleasant stroll. By the time she arrived back at the antechamber, the burning pain in her nipples and the womb wrenching ache in her vulva made her want to scream. But she didn’t. Instead, she held her head high and proud, and looked Ming in the eye, although the dominatrix’s image was barely recognizable through Kat’s tears. “Your peaches, Mistress,” she said, as if she had just brought them from the pantry. “Peaches?” Ming snapped, angrily. “Who said anything about peaches?” Kat was startled. “Why, you asked me to…” “Apricots. I said apricots. Are you stupid? Or deaf? Or are you just a willful little bitch who needs constant punishment to learn how to behave? Which is it?” Ming’s reaction had stunned Kat. But the other woman was 164

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

right; she was stupid. Had she really expected Ming to be proud of her, pleased at her accomplishment? How could she have been so stupid? Suddenly her resolve crumbled and she began to cry, the clamps tugging excruciatingly at her nipples with every sob. Predictably unmoved by Kat’s distress, Ming sighed and shook her head despairingly. “There’s only one thing for it. Another half dozen of the riding crop, I think.”

165

Judith Devere

Chapter Eight

I

t was a great car to drive but there was no way James could give the powerful Jaguar XKR its head on this road. There were no marked lanes and he estimated that two cars could just about pass, though it would be dangerous at speed. And it was difficult to read the road ahead; convoluted and mostly hidden by lush rain forest and stands of palms, each bend had to be taken with care. But it was exquisitely beautiful, with rugged mountain peaks on the right, and where gaps in the vegetation on the left allowed, fantastic views of the ocean several hundred feet below. The car, the location and the lovely woman in the passenger seat beside him were just the tip of the iceberg of success that exemplified James Vanderbruck’s privileged lifestyle. The woman — his wife, Margot — was not only astonishingly attractive, but came from one of the oldest and most respected Bostonian blueblood families. In a bygone era she might easily have been mistaken for Jacqueline Kennedy. She was, like everything else in his life, the best that could be had. He glanced at her now, saw how she was enjoying the ride. The convertible roof was down, allowing the wind to play through her hair, the sun to deepen her already golden tan. She wore a white, raw silk off-the-shoulder dress that both emphasized the tan and displayed her long, slender legs to optimum advantage through mid thigh side slits. Turning to meet his gaze, now, she smiled and reached out to 166

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

caress the back of his neck. At that moment the purr of the cruising Jaguar engine was overlaid by what sounded like a roll of muted distant thunder. Looking up, James saw nothing but eye-achingly azure sky with not a cloud in sight. Mystified, he looked around on both sides of the car but still saw nothing to explain the sound, which was growing louder. Then a glint in the rear view mirror caught his eye and the mystery was explained. On the road behind them, slowly gaining ground, was a group of motorcycles: big, with lots of chrome. Now James recognized the sound for what it was — the effortless throaty throb produced only by that monarch of motor bikes, the Harley Davidson. There were, he reckoned, about a dozen bikes, and they were getting close now. The rider of the lead bike was a big, bearded bear of a man wearing black leather pants, a sleeveless leather waistcoat and a red bandana. Looking over his shoulder from the pillion seat was a blonde woman who, even from this distance, James could tell was very attractive. As the bikes came up behind the Jaguar it became clear that, instead of falling into file, they were going to try to overtake in convoy, two or three abreast. Suddenly, what had begun as a mildly interesting encounter had become a critical confrontation. “Idiots!” James snarled. “They’re taking up the entire road. If something comes the other way round that blind bend there’ll be a pile-up. Someone will be killed” The lead bike was now parallel with the Jaguar, the rider looking aside at the Vanderbrucks — or, more specifically, at Margot and her shapely legs. James hit the horn several times, gesticulating angrily to the motorcyclist to clear the road. The biker just grinned — a response that infuriated James so much that he instinctively flipped him the finger. The bear frowned, then, turning his gaze back on the road ahead, accelerated away. His companions followed suit, overtaking the Jaguar in a 167

Judith Devere

thunderous roar. In their passing, James registered a blur of Hell’s Angels-style icons on their leathers and motor cycles: skulls, daggers, satanic emblems and anti-authoritarian slogans. Seconds later the brutish band disappeared around the next bend. “Thank God they are gone,” Margot said with a sigh of relief. “Who would have expected a biker gang out here?” “I know. They seem to get everywhere. What would people like that want way out here in the country, anyway?” Margot shook her head in silent reply, then said, “Look, a signpost.” Braking to read the directional sign at the junction of the main road with a narrow side road, James said, “Crystal Falls. That’s the place Christina said we should take a look at, remember? It’s apparently only about a mile off our route, and we’re in no hurry, so…?” He turned to look at his wife. “Sure, let’s do it.” Undulating and tortuous, the secondary road snaked a course through lush rain forest. In reality, it was little more than a stony track, not much wider than the car, and even with the Jaguar’s excellent suspension it made for a bumpy ride. After three or four minutes, James said, “This won’t do the Jag a lot of good.” “Oh, this car’s built to stand a little rough treatment, darling. Besides, the falls are supposed to be outstandingly beautiful. I really don’t want to miss them.” He turned to her briefly, smiled. “I know honey. You know me and my cars; I’m like an overprotective father.” “Or a jealous lover. Sometimes I wonder which you love the most; me, your cars or the yacht.” He put his hand on her thigh, slid it up to her hip, revealing more flesh and a glimpse of her thong. “Maybe I can show you shortly — if there’s no one at the falls.” 168

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Margot sat back in her seat, stretched her arms languorously skyward. “Mmm, sex in the open air. You know how much I like that.” Lowering her arms again, she pulled her dress up over her thighs, slipped her thumbs into the sides of her thong and wriggled it down her legs to the floor of the car. When she had removed the garment, she held it front of James’s eyes. “Now you’re going to have to find somewhere to fuck me.” He glanced sideways, first at her face — she was smiling seductively — then at her lap, where the rucked up dress now laid bare her carefully trimmed sex. When she saw him looking she parted her thighs, allowing him an even more intimate view. James felt his penis harden in the confines of his pants. “Won’t have to wait long,” he said, looking back to the road again. “Looks like we’re there.” The road had ended in a natural amphitheater about three hundred yards across. The perimeter of the roughly circular clearing was defined by the forest fringe, from which grassy banks reached down to the shores of a small lake. On the far side of the lake a waterfall cascaded into it from the lip of a tall rocky bluff that was covered in ferns, flowering shrubs and hanging vines. Bathed in a gossamer fine mist from the waterfall, the surrounding vegetation was startling in its green intensity. James drove to the edge of the bank and they both got out of the car. “Christina was right,” Margot said. “God, it’s beautiful, James.” James nodded. “Like a little piece of paradise.” “I’m going to have a swim.” James watched with mild surprise as his wife kicked off her shoes, hauled her dress up over her head. “Skinny dipping? What if somebody comes?” Already she was naked, the dress and her shoes lying on the grass, her thong in the car; she wore a bra only on rare 169

Judith Devere

occasions and today was not one of them. “And what about having sex out in the open?” she countered. “What if someone came then?” “I thought we’d find some cover in the trees or behind a rock or something; somewhere where we would see if anyone came before they saw us.” Margot laughed as she stepped into the shallows. “Where’s your sense of adventure, James? Doesn’t the risk of getting caught excite you?” “Getting caught means coitus interruptus. Hardly satisfying.” “James, you’re such a frump at times. Mm, the water is lovely; pleasantly cool, not cold. It’s delicious. Why don’t you join me?” “No thanks, I’ll watch.” And watch he did; avidly. As Margot waded into deeper water, the sun seemed to set her aglow like some mythical naked water sprite. Her hair, midnight black, hung about her shoulders, brushing her shoulder blades as she moved. She had a superb body: full breasted with generous nipples and broad, stippled areolae; long slender limbs; firmly rounded buttocks and softly flared hips. It was the body of a Las Vegas showgirl, complemented by an unlikely aristocratic, almost saintly facial beauty — a rare combination for which, given the opportunity, Playboy or Penthouse would probably have paid highly. Yet for all this, James momentarily forgot his carnal hunger of just moments earlier as he watched his wife frolic in the water in this pastoral gem of a place. For a few idyllic minutes, the only sounds to be heard were the constant shushing of the waterfall and a miscellany of exotic birdsong. But then he heard something that injected a stream of adrenaline into his blood — a distant, but obviously closing, deep throated growl. It was the collective clamor of the hunting pack, particularized by the random snarls of individual engines within their number. 170

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Margot, get out! Now! Hurry!” Margot turned to look at him, raised a hand to her ear. “What did you say?” Clearly she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the waterfall. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called, “It’s the bikers again; they’re coming. Hurry up and get out of the water.” Margot began to wade back to the shore. “Did you say bikers?” “Yes, I can hear them. They’re headed this way, I’m sure of it. Hurry. Let’s get out of here.” Now she had heard — and understood — Margot tried to hurry, stumbling as the water dragged against her legs. The cavalcade of motor cycles poured into the clearing just as she reached the shore and stepped onto the bank. The roar of the bikes in the enclosed area of the falls sounded deafening, the collective throbbing of a dozen machines echoing back and forth. Like predators, they closed in around the Jaguar while James stood in front of Margot, trying to shield her nudity from the ravening eyes of the bikers. The riders were all men, but there were four women passengers among them; all were dressed in typical biker gang gear. As on the road earlier, the big man with the attractive blonde pillion passenger was at the front of the group. He raised a hand now and the motorcycle engines shut off in unison. It was suddenly relatively quiet again, the riders simply sitting astride their machines, looking at James and Margot. “You. Woman,” the big man called, looking directly at Margot. “Get over here.” Margot cowered behind James. James took a step forward. “Listen to me, asshole. I’ll give you just five seconds to get lost and I’ll forget you were ever here. If you don’t take me up on that offer, you’re going to end up in jail. And that’s not an idle threat; I have some very influential 171

Judith Devere

associates.” It was a bold ploy, based on the precept that the best form of defense was attack. Of course, it was nothing more than bluff, and James knew the chances of repulsing these men were almost nil, but he felt that he had to try. For a moment, the big man just looked at him. Then he began laughing, which was unnerving; even more unnerving, though, was the way he abruptly stopped laughing, and glowered at James. “Asshole, you say? I think there’s been some mistake, feller. Do you have any idea who we are? Who I am?” Backing down now was not an option where James was concerned. “I don’t know and I don’t care. We’re leaving now.” Taking Margot by the hand, he began to stride toward the car, she using her free hand in a vain attempt to alternately cover her sex and breasts. For an instant as they neared the Jaguar, James wondered if they were actually going to be allowed to leave, but then, at a signal from the big man, two of the other men and their women dismounted from their motor bikes and blocked their way. The men seized James, forcing his arms up his back. The girls pulled Margot away from him, held her by her wrists. “Let her go!” James shouted. He began to struggle, but stopped when the men wrenched his arms higher up his back, causing him sudden and intense pain. The big man shook his head as a frustrated parent might at a recalcitrant child. “Like it or not, since we’re going to get…intimately acquainted, I think you should both know who we are. Tell them, Junie.” Junie, his passenger, said, “We’re the Cobras, and this here’s Wolf.” “Short for Wolfgang,” he added. “My dad was a Kraut.” “Please let us go,” Margot pleaded. “We can pay you; we have money and we won’t go to the police, I swear it.” Wolf dismounted his Harley. “Money?” He laughed. “I’m not 172

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

interested in money, sweetheart, this is a matter of respect. He…” pointing a finger at James “…your husband?” Margot nodded confirmation. Walking toward her, he said, “Yeah, well your old man dissed me back there on the highway, and that means he dissed the Cobras too. Nobody does that and gets away with it. Now it’s time to settle the score. I don’t want his money.” He glanced at the gleaming Jaguar. “Looks like he has plenty of that, so it wouldn’t mean anything to him. But he does owe us compensation, and it oughta hurt him to pay up. Otherwise, what’s the point?” “What do you want, then?” James asked, sensing what the answer might be from the way Wolf was devouring the naked Margot with his hungry gaze. Wolf smiled, reached out a hand and ran his fingers along Margot’s jaw, then slowly down her neck. “Leave her alone, you bastard,” James shouted. Not bothering to look at him, Wolf said, “Junie, gag him.” “What with?” Junie asked, a sly smile skewing her lips. “Use your imagination.” Margot flinched as Wolf’s fingertips traced a course down the slope of her breast to the nipple. Despite her consternation, the nipple and its twin stiffened as Wolf rolled it between his finger and thumb. James strained against the grip of the men holding him. “I said leave…” The sentence remained unfinished as one of the men clamped a hand firmly over his mouth. Junie got off the bike and walked across to James. Their eyes met. She smiled, then looked aside at Wolf, who was now kneading Margot’s breasts, pinching the nipples in a way that made his captive gasp and whimper. James followed Junie’s gaze, struggled in vain again when he saw what Wolf was doing to his wife. “Please don’t...rape me,” Margot pleaded tearfully. 173

Judith Devere

In response, Wolf merely laughed, grasped Margot’s hair and pulled her toward him. He kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips to explore her mouth, while his other hand dropped from her breast, down along her belly to the neatly manicured thicket cladding her sex. She tried to struggle, but the women held her tightly. Her groan of protest remained trapped in her throat, her lips still sealed firmly by Wolf’s as he slid his fingers into her sex. Junie returned her eyes to James. “Dana,” she called, still looking him in the face. “Come here, honey.” The fourth female biker, an attractive redhead in her early twenties, was sitting astride one of the Harleys behind its muscular black rider. “Sure thing, Junie,” she said, clambering off the bike. She wore a black T-shirt that advertised the fact that she neither wore nor needed a bra to contain her ample breasts, and a red latex micro skirt that revealed most of her thighs. Her hips swayed sensuously as she walked over to Junie. “Wolf says I should gag him,” Junie said, nodding toward James. In contrast to Dana, she wore a sleeveless leather waistcoat that accentuated her cleavage, black leather pants and cowboy style chaps and boots. Dana shrugged. “So?” “Take off your panties, hon.” Dana looked puzzled. “My panties? What for?” Then the penny dropped. “Oh, I get it. But why don’t use your own?” Junie grinned. “I’m not wearing any.” Dana looked at James, smiled. “Okay, darlin’, you’re in for a treat.” She hiked up her skirt to reveal a pair of red lace briefs. Hooking her thumbs into the sides, she slid them down over thighs and calves to the floor, exposing a flaming bush of bright copper pubic hair in the process. She handed the panties to Junie, who stepped up closer to James. 174

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Okay, Duke, you can take your hand off his mouth now.” When Duke had removed his hand, Junie said to James. “Open your mouth, sweetie.” James set his jaw and kept his mouth firmly closed…but not for long. Junie reached for his crotch, squeezed hard. As James cried out in pain, she thrust Dana’s panties firmly into his mouth, instantly silencing him. “That’ll do it,” Junie observed, without bothering to remove her hand from James’s crotch. Rather, she had begun to fondle him there. Her lips curved into a smile. “Hey, Wolf?” “Yeah, Junie?” “Her old man’s got a nice package down here, and guess what?” “What?” He’s got a hard-on. Nice and big, too. Y’know, I think watching what you’re doing to his missus is turning him on.” James shook his head vigorously, his would be protest muffled beyond recognition by Dana’s intimately seasoned lace panties. The other bikers had left their bikes now, were gathering round the action. Ethnically and physically they were a mixed bag; what they had in common were their biker gang trappings, either long hair or shaven heads, and a swaggering, hostile demeanor. In another age, in another setting, they would have made a likely band of cutthroat buccaneers. By now, Margot, restricted though she was in the firm grip of her two custodians, was performing a sort of writhing, squirming dance in response to Wolf’s increasingly incursive forays into her vulva. She variously gasped, whimpered in protest, pleaded and moaned as he explored her sex, first with one finger, then by degrees, two, three and four. Wolf was grinning. “Well,” he said, his voiced raised so that James couldn’t fail to hear. “For all her protestin’, this bitch is in 175

Judith Devere

heat; she’s fairly dripping here.” Then, lowering his voice again so that only Margot heard him, he said, “Now you listen to me, sugar pie, and listen good. The boys and me, we had a little discussion before we came after you and hubby. We all made a choice. Some of us are going to fuck you…” Margot’s eyes widened. She shook her head slowly, her voice hushed as she answered, “No. Oh, no. Please no.” Wolf, ignoring her, continued, “…but some of the boys think your sweet mouth is more tempting, if you get my drift.” Margot opened her sweet mouth to scream, but Wolf silenced her by crushing her lips with a big callused hand. He looked over his shoulder toward James and the two bikers restraining him. “Coyote?” “Yeah, Wolf?” one of the two men answered. “I think the little lady here needs some incentive to cooperate.” “Oh, right. I think I can help there.” As he spoke, Coyote reached behind his back with one hand and produced from a sheath on his belt a big gleaming hunting knife. He held it to James’s throat, the finely honed blade lightly pressing against his flesh. James froze. “How’s this for incentive?” Coyote asked Wolf looked back at Margot. “I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth now. If you scream or play up in any way, I’ll give Coyote there the word to slit your old man’s throat. You understand me?” Margot slowly nodded against the pressure of Wolf’s hand. Her eyes were shiny, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Wolf removed the hand from her mouth and brushed away her tears with his thumb and fingers. “Don’t be a baby now. You’re gonna have to behave like a real woman, because if you don’t and any of the boys ain’t happy with your performance… Well, I’m guessing they’ll want to take 176

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

it out of hubby’s hide. You understand me?” Another slow tearful nod from Margot. Wolf’s expression brightened. “But, heck, where are my manners? In all the excitement I forgot to finish the introductions.” Waving a hand at each of the gang in turn, he named them, then said, “And you and your man would be?” Margot sniffed. “I’m Ma…Margot…Vanderbruck. My husband is…James.” “Nice. On her knees, girls.” The two women holding Margot — a sleek young half-caste named Tracy and a slender limbed Japanese who answered to Suki — forced Margot to her knees. Suki grasped her hair, holding her head so that her face was tilted slightly upward. Looking down at her through eyes gleaming with a fierce inner light, Wolf unzipped his pants. Margot tensed, then flinched as he reached inside to wrestle free his fully erect penis. She gasped. Almost half as big again as her husband’s, which was already much bigger than average, Wolf’s organ was a terrible prospect. Long and thick and light mahogany in color, it projected from his loins like some fearsome war club, and as if in emulation of that weapon, Wolf gripped the shaft at its base and slapped Margot across the face with it three or four times. Then he presented the big round head to her lips. James struggled, shook his head violently. Muffled by the wad of Dana’s lace panties in his mouth, his desperate grunt of protest was audible but incoherent. Wolf pressed the head of his penis harder against Margot’s lips. “Take it.” When she didn’t respond, he called, “Coyote?” “No!” Margot exclaimed, hurriedly. “Don’t hurt James. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” “Yeah, Wolf?” “No, it’s okay. Just me and Margot here had a bit of a 177

Judith Devere

misunderstanding. We got it straightened out now.” He looked intensely at Margot. “Don’t we, darlin’?” “Yes,” she said, meekly. Wolf nodded to Tracy and Suki. “Okay, girls, you can let go of her now; she’ll cooperate and I want her to be able to move freely.” The two women released their grip on Margot and stepped back. Margot reached out, grasped the shaft of Wolf’s cock in her right hand and lowered her head. Parting her lips, she took him in her mouth. The organ pulsed and throbbed against her cheeks and tongue. The unfamiliar contours felt strange, tasted alien. She cupped his testicles with her left hand, fondling them as her lips slid down along the length of his cock. He thrust against her, the head of his cock slipping into her throat. She almost gagged but, not wishing to displease him, allowed him to push further. It was impossible to breathe with his swollen member lodged in her throat like this, but then, as he withdrew, she was briefly able to gulp in air. Briefly, because within seconds he thrust back deep into her throat, cutting off her air supply again. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he stared down at her, transfixed at the prospect of his rampant glistening organ sliding back and forth between her lips, distending her cheeks with each forward thrust. Imagining the prospect the two of them must present to the onlookers, Margot had never felt so acutely degraded in her life. “Tell you something, Margot,” Wolf said, his voice suddenly low, husky. “From the moment I saw you in that Jag I just knew I had to fuck that beautiful mouth. Those lovely soft lips were made to suck cock.” His hips were undulating in a steady rhythm now, increasing momentum. Margot braced herself for the inevitable, closed her eyes. 178

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“No! Eyes open.” She opened her eyes again, and at that moment felt his organ swell to even greater dimensions in her mouth. The first spurt of semen erupted in her mouth; thick, hot, salty. Knowing it would be what he wanted, she swallowed, but another surge followed almost instantly, then another. She could not swallow quickly enough, and that which she was unable to devour escaped between her lips and his penis, spilling down her chin and dangling in creamy strands onto her breasts. When his final spasm had shuddered to conclusion, he slowly withdrew from her mouth. “Hmmm.” Half sigh, half satisfied groan, the sound seemed to emanate from somewhere deep in Wolf’s chest. “Oh, yes. Yesss.” Easing his hips toward her face again, he said, “That was very good, Margot, but as you can see, I’m in a bit of a mess now. Lick it clean for me, hon.” Margot could sense, feel James’s outraged gaze on her as she took hold of Wolf’s no longer rigid but still bloated penis and obeyed the order. When she had finished, she turned her eyes up at him. In response, he returned an evil grin. “Nicely done, Mrs. Vanderbruck,” he said, then stepped aside and called, “Next!” By now, the other bikers were either naked or in the act of stripping off their clothes. As Wolf moved aside, a young man he had identified as Rowdy stepped up to Margot. One of the already naked bikers, he was easily the youngest of the pack; around twenty, she guessed. Little more than a boy where she was concerned, he was nevertheless handsome — reminiscent of Da Vinci’s David, with short, curly blond hair and a finely sculpted body. But the near perfection of his looks was marred by a vicious scar that looked like an old knife wound running from his right cheek through his upper lip, disfiguring what would otherwise have been an angelic mouth. Even in her plight, and 179

Judith Devere

knowing from his resolutely erect penis what he was about to subject her to, she felt a maternal flush of compassion for him, for the mutilation that had corrupted his beauty. And, strangely, as he looked down at her she thought that, although he would surely slake his lust in her, there was already a seed of guilt reflected in his gaze that might well grow and flourish after the act. But, as the saying went, a standing cock had no conscience, and Rowdy’s cock was undeniably standing, straining toward Margot from a shrub of flaxen hair. Another incoherent grunt from her gagged husband prompted Margot to look aside at him. She was mildly shocked to see that Junie, herself naked now, was in the final stages of cutting away his clothes with the knife that Coyote had previously held to his throat. Down to his undershorts, Junie gripped these by the waistband and sliced through the garment from hip to thigh to reveal confirmation of her earlier observation: like the young man before whom Margot knelt, James’s arousal was evident from his unequivocal erection. “Oh, what a gorgeous cock!” Junie cried, casting Margot a taunting smile. Keeping her eyes turned on Margot, she reached for James’s penis. He gasped as her fingers closed around the shaft. Stepping astride his thigh she pressed her sex against him and slowly slid down his leg to her knees with a sigh of pleasure. Margot felt a trickle of moisture ooze from her sex as the beautiful young biker girl parted her lips and took her husband in her mouth. James shook his head as if in protest, but his groan and the forward thrust of his hips belied the gesture. Firmly but surprisingly gently, Rowdy placed his hand against Margot’s cheek, turned her head back to confront his own eager organ. His gaze seemed to pierce her to the core, his expression like that of someone in pain. But Margot recognized that look; it was the anguish of desire, so often most intense in the young. She 180

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

did not hesitate this time. Reaching out with both hands, she grasped his penis near the base with the right, cupped his testicles with the left, as she had so recently done with Wolf’s. Her nipples and sex were tingling, as if jointly connected to some internal source of electricity. She lowered her head, took him in her mouth, feeling the young firm flesh swell even more as the moist warmth of her lips and tongue engulfed him. He held his hands behind his back, the right clasping the wrist of the left, his torso tilted slightly back from the hip. He let out a long low moan as Margot sank down on his length, taking his entire organ into her mouth and throat. Her fingers caressed and toyed with his balls as she began to slowly fuck him with her lips and her tongue. He tasted quite unlike Wolf, less earthy and not so salty. In fact, he tasted fresh and clean and…good; good enough to

eat.

She pleasured him as if he were a long time lover, as if she were doing this by choice rather than under threat. Her head bobbed back and forth, her mouth serving him as if her life depended on it, which, if Wolf’s threats were to be believed, it indeed might. But he could not hope to withstand this treatment for long. Suddenly he clenched his teeth, thrusting his hips against her face, and driving his cock deep into her mouth. He came hugely, disgorging more sperm into her mouth than even Wolf had done. But unlike Wolf, he withdrew from between her lips mid-orgasm, jetting spasm after spasm of hot viscous semen into her hair and over her face and breasts. Casting a glance aside at her husband, Margot realized from his anguished facial contortions that, despite, or perhaps because of, what was happening to her, he was himself on the brink of orgasm. She imagined him driving through barriers of jealousy and hate to a level of arousal and passion that was probably greater than any he had ever experienced. And no doubt, if Junie had allowed it, he would have replicated with her 181

Judith Devere

what Margot had just undergone with Wolf and Rowdy. But at that moment Junie released his cock from her mouth and pinched the head hard. James groaned in pain, his expression simultaneously betraying a profound sense of loss and frustration at the sudden denial of imminent orgasm. Junie rose, pursed her lips in a mock scold. “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “Not yet, sweetie. Not ‘till Junie’s good and ready.” Meanwhile, another biker had taken Rowdy’s place. Shaven headed and, at around fifty years of age undoubtedly the oldest of the gang, he was also the thinnest and shortest, but what he lacked in stature was more than compensated for by the dimensions of his penis. Bigger even than Wolf’s, its appearance in Margot’s face evoked a moment of pure panic. She shook her head slowly. “I…don’t think I…can.” The owner of the towering limb of rigid flesh — appropriately enough nicknamed Chopper — grinned. “Why, ‘course you can, little lady. Might stretch your jaws a bit, but you can do it. You better, otherwise I’m goin’ to be in the line to fuck you with it. You prefer that?” Without further delay, Margot took the immense organ between her lips. And stretch her jaws it did, not to mention nearly suffocating her as it repeatedly blocked her throat, causing her to gag helplessly. The humiliation was no greater than that she had suffered at the hands of Wolf and Rowdy, but with Chopper it was also an ordeal of physical anguish. And yet, throughout the experience, the steady oozing of her vulva continued unabated, and the dark vortex of arousal in her womb burgeoned, agonizing in its intensity and the knowledge that, unlike these men, release for her was not yet an option. When the time came, Chopper did not come in her mouth, but withdrew, holding his hugely swollen member by the shaft 182

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

and masturbating onto her face and breasts. Rico, a swarthy Puerto Rican with a drooping mustache and a penis that was far from drooping, was the fourth and last biker to defile Margot through fellatio, and when he had done with her, he stepped back to look at the results of her ordeal. Knowing how she must look, liberally doused and sullied with the mingled semen of her violators, she tried to rise above the profound humiliation. Straightening her back, she knelt upright, not realizing that the act of pushing back her shoulders caused her now glistening breasts to jut provocatively. Although it had been less than twenty minutes since Wolf had begun her ordeal, this prospect clearly aroused him fiercely again. Already, his penis had swollen to adamantine rigidity again. “T-bone, Miguel, get over here.” In response to Wolf’s command, two of the bikers, Dana’s black companion and a swarthy Latino approached him. “Bring her over to my bike. I’m going to fuck her now.” Margot’s eyes widened. “No!” Although she had been forewarned what was to befall her, the sudden immediacy of her further violation detonated a surge of panic in her breast. Now that she had seen and experienced what these men were capable of, the enormity and hard reality of their physical dimensions and pitiless demands, fear began to infuse her arousal. Adrenaline coursed though her arteries; she struggled fiercely but impotently as T-bone and Miguel grabbed her arms and legs, lifting her off the ground and carrying her to Wolf’s Harley. Wolf leaned toward Rico, lowering his voice as he spoke so that neither James nor Margot would hear what he said. Rico nodded and grinned, then went to one of the other motor bikes and took something from the pannier. When he returned to Wolf, Margot saw that he was carrying a length of rope and what looked like a leather strap or belt. 183

Judith Devere

T-bone and Miguel lifted Margot up onto the Harley, laying her on her back along the padded seats so that her buttocks settled on the rear edge of the back seat and her legs dangled apart toward the floor over the rear wheel. She twisted her head to see what they were doing as they stretched her arms up toward the front of the machine. Then she saw the purpose of the rope, as Rico expertly lashed her wrists to the grips on each side of the handlebars. Her instinct was to struggle but she was afraid that if she fell off the bike while her wrists were bound to the handlebars she might be seriously hurt. So she remained still — apart from the irrepressible trembling that had seized her. Rico slipped the leather strap around Margot’s waist and secured it to the frame of the bike beneath her. Then, moving to the rear of the bike, T-bone and Miguel gripped Margot by the ankles, and hauled her long shapely legs back and apart, bending them at the knees. T-bone slipped a loop of rope around each of her knees then tied the free ends of the rope to the handlebars alongside her wrists. Now, the rest of the bikers closed in to get a closer look at Margot, who lay bound to the Harley Davidson, arms outstretched, legs bent at the knees, and drawn up and apart. The most obvious consequence of this posture was that her labia had parted to fully expose the shellpink cleft of her sex, glistening brightly among the trim pelt of black of hair that bordered it. “God damn!” one of the bikers said in awe. “Goddamn me, if that ain’t the horniest, most beautiful thing I ever saw.” It was clear from the way the others — both the men and women — were staring in awe that they all shared similar sentiments. The prospect of this stunningly beautiful woman, naked and displayed in the most carnally intimate of attitudes as she lay bound to the big, shiny, chrome Harley Davidson was an intensely erotic one. Profoundly humiliated, Margot bit her lip and stared up at the sky. But again her body betrayed her. In 184

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

emulation of the tears rolling down her cheeks, a bright little river of arousal coursed from the portal of her sex, down into the valley of her buttocks. Naked, now, Wolf glanced across at James, laughed at his furious but useless attempts to free himself. Wiping his hand across his mouth as a hungry man might before attacking a chicken drumstick, he turned his attention back to Margot, suspended more than three feet off the ground, spread-eagled and naked. Stepping up to her, he had to straddle the rear wheel of the Harley, but this minor inconvenience was insignificant because no woman had ever been more ideally placed for sex than Margot was now. Laying his straining penis along the moist divide of her vulva, he called out to the two men holding James. “Willie, Buzz, bring hubby over here. I want him to get a ringside view of his missus getting it.” “Oh, please, no,” Margot whimpered. “Don’t make him watch. Rape me if you must but don’t humiliate us so.” Wolf laughed as James was manhandled alongside him. “You still don’t get it, do you, darlin’? That’s all part of the fun.” On the word ‘fun’ Wolf thrust violently between Margot’s widespread thighs, his cock impaling her to the hilt in a single movement. She responded with a savage grunt, her mouth and eyes wide in shock. The male bikers, naked and without exception fiercely erect, crowded in around the Harley as Wolf, eyes ablaze, began to fuck Margot with long, languorous strokes. A host of questing hands reached out to her, grasping her buttocks and semen-slick breasts, caressing and kneading her taut naked flesh. Inside the circle, Dana was on her knees, an arm wrapped around each of T-bone’s thighs while he held her head steady with a hand on either side of her face. Gazing down on Margot with voracious eyes, he was moving in sync with Wolf, his hips moving back and forth against Dana’s face with growing urgency. 185

Judith Devere

Junie, her face flushed, eyes glazed, insinuated herself between James and the Harley, turning her buttocks toward him. Gripping Margot’s thigh for support, she bent forward then eased back against him, wriggling her bottom until the swollen head of his cock nuzzled the pleats of her sex. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light, the lids half closed. “Let him go, boys,” she said, without breaking eye contact with James. “He needs his hands now.” Once freed, James quickly removed Dana’s soaking panties from his mouth and tossed them aside. Like Wolf’s, his eyes now burned with a feral gleam. For a long moment he watched as Wolf assiduously plumbed his wife’s voluptuous depths. As if in a trance, Margot was staring at the sky, her mouth open, breasts heaving. James turned his gaze back on Junie again, met her eyes with his. “Fuck me,” Junie demanded, silently mouthing, rather than speaking the words. Without hesitation, James gripped Junie’s hips, and, like a rutting beast, slammed into her with a grunt of satisfaction. She, in turn, responded with a long low groan as he began to fuck her with deep, aggressive thrusts. And as he fucked her, his gaze alternated between the prospect of Wolf’s monstrous cock cleaving his defenseless wife, and T-bone’s ebony erection repeatedly slipping back and forth between Dana’s compliant lips. As if linked in some orgiastic tribal ritual, all present were now caught up in a mounting frenzy, including, at last, Margot herself. Although she had somehow contrived to resist capitulation thus far, she now began to succumb to the inescapable demands of her own traitorous flesh. Seeming to sense that she was on the verge of release, Wolf quickened his stroke to a level she would not have thought possible for so big a man. The abrupt change in tempo drove her over the edge. 186

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Straining against her bonds, she threw back her head against the leather seat, giving voice to a keening wail of deliverance as the long deferred orgasm engulfed her in a sensual maelstrom. This proved the catalyst for Wolf, James, and T-bone, who, within seconds of each other, found vociferous release in the respective objects of their own lust. Amid the climactic tumult, a random and capriciously mocking thought flickered on the backdrop of Margot’s mind. The Vanderbrucks had already toppled from their pedestal of respectability with a vengeance; who knew what the remains of the day held for them?

187

Judith Devere

Chapter Nine

T

here were to be distinguished guests for dinner this evening at Chateau Levequ, and Kat was delighted to learn from Madam SIN that, in keeping with the recent shift in her status, she was permitted to choose for herself what to wear for the event. Moreover, she was informed, there were no plans to subject her to discipline or sexual torment for the post-dinner amusement of Madam SIN and her visitors. In short, Kat could safely look forward to an evening of relative freedom and relaxation, her only obligation being that of an attentive cohostess. After applying the finishing touches to her makeup — pearl pink lip-gloss and a hint of blue eye shadow that, in its depth, accentuated the pale ice blue of her eyes — Kat stepped back to regard her reflection in the dressing mirror. The sleek ottoman ribbed evening gown by Donatella Versace was elegant yet alluring. Cream, with a mock turtleneck halter that left her shoulders bare, it flowed to ankle length, more than hinting at the physical perfection that lay beneath. The single strand necklace of flawless pearls she had selected as the sole accompanying piece of jewelry positively glowed against the color of the fabric. Kat was the last to arrive at the dining room, where the long banquet table had been moved aside in favor of a smaller one, 188

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

which was used for more intimate occasions. There were eight place settings, she noted. Servants were scurrying to and fro under the critical eye of her mulatto former maid, Camille, who, in reward for her betrayal of Kat, now reigned as Head of Household. As Kat passed through the dining room toward the balcony where pre-dinner drinks were being served, Camille caught her eye briefly before quickly looking away again sheepishly. With the single exception of her recent wild encounter with Kat and the maid, Brenda, avoiding eye contact with Kat had become standard practice on Camille’s part since Madam SIN had disclosed her treachery. Was it merely guilt, or also fear that Kat would ultimately take revenge for her abject disloyalty? Kat suspected a combination of the two. Theirs had been a deeply intimate relationship, bonded by tenderness and love — or something very like it — yet seasoned with fiery passion and, on Kat’s part, occasional carnal brutality. Indeed, it had been with Camille that Kat had first discovered her latent propensity to arousal by subjugating another woman; by subjecting her to sexual humiliation and punishment. Camille well knew from experience what Kat was capable of in this respect, and that knowledge, Kat speculated, was probably a major factor in her recent wariness. It was as if she feared discerning, in the pale blue intensity of Kat’s gaze, chilling recollected imagery from the night her former Mistress had so savagely spanked her bare bottom with the hairbrush. In any event, whatever prompted the phenomenon, Kat derived dark pleasure from Camille’s obvious discomfiture; it pleased her greatly to see the woman squirm in the anguish of interminable uncertainty. Kat stepped through the open French windows onto the balcony, into the social murmur of conversation and the tinkling of ice in glasses, punctuated here and there with scribbles of laughter. A Chopin etude tumbled unobtrusively into the balmy 189

Judith Devere

evening air from unseen speakers. The atmosphere was one of relaxed amiability. The people Kat had expected were all there, attired in formal evening wear, of course. Madam SIN, Vladimir and James Vanderbruck were sitting a table in earnest discussion, while a little distance away Frederique and Ming stood speaking to a tall man who had his back to Kat. Although she could not see his face, there was something familiar about his build and the way he stood. Only one person seemed to notice Kat’s appearance on the balcony. As if somehow sensing her arrival, Margot Vanderbruck, who was leaning against the front balustrade watching the sunset, turned and smiled at her. Returning her smile, Kat scooped a glass of Dom Perignon from the tray offered by a hovering waiter as she walked over to the other woman. “Hello again, Kat,” Margot said, her smile taking on a sly mischievous quality. “Or should I say, Junie?” In contrast to Kat, she wore black — an off the shoulder silk dress that revealed just a glimpse of honey hued cleavage. This evening she had her hair up, thereby accentuating the aristocratic sweep of her jaw line and high cheekbones. The woman’s vivacious appearance, together with the indefinable, yet almost tangible vibrancy of her presence, evoked an immediate sense of expectation, of an intriguing drama waiting to unfold, which Kat found quite fascinating; so fascinating that she had to concentrate in order to respond to Margot’s question. “Which do you prefer?” she answered. “The name or the woman?” “The woman, of course.” Margot bit her lower lip, drawing it thoughtfully between her teeth. “Mmm. Hard to say yet. I know Junie much more intimately than I do Kat.” “Yes, that was Vladimir’s intention, which is the reason why we haven’t met socially until this evening. He felt that if you didn’t 190

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

already know Kat — me, that is — the character of Junie would be more convincing. I think he was right.” “I’m sure. He certainly seems to know what he’s doing. But you know them both, Kat and Junie; which do you like best?” “Well, I’ve only known Junie myself for a few days, but…” “Yes?” “I found her…the experience of being her, that is, fun, in a way.” Margot grinned, almost — not quite — leered. “I’ll bet.” “But also…what?...cathartic, I suppose.” This clearly piqued Margot’s interest. She tilted her head marginally, one eyebrow arching as she asked, “How so?” As Kat turned into the balustrade to face the sunset and the bay far below, Margot Vanderbruck replicated the movement, but kept her face turned toward Kat, watching her resolutely. “Junie is so different than anything I’ve ever been. I come from a privileged background. I had a first class private education, never knew what it was like to be short of money. I was raised to be…a lady, I suppose, albeit that I eventually chose acting as a profession. Junie, on the other hand… Well, just look at her lifestyle: living on the edge, part of a biker gang, overtly sexual and promiscuous; a wild thing.” “And you like that?” “I thought that would have been obvious during the scenario." Margot shook her head. “No, no. I mean, would you like to be like her; to be her, live that life?” “Be her? Oh, no. Not in real life.” Turning to look at Margot, Kat smiled. “Since coming to Chateau Levequ I’ve learned there are too many options, possibilities, to commit to a single way of life. But because Junie is so different from the real me, it was exciting, liberating, to be her for a while.” Margot ran the tip of a pale pink tongue over her lips, her 191

Judith Devere

gaze suddenly deepening. “And my husband,” she said, “James. How did the wild biker girl enjoy being…fucked by him?” She emphasized the word fucked as if its mere utterance gave her pleasure. “How did you…do you…feel about him fucking her?” Margot laughed softly. It isn’t easy to corner you, Kat, I’ll give you that. You turn my questions back on me artfully.” “I’m sorry, Margot, you needn’t answer that question, of course. I didn’t mean to be rude; I forgot my place. You are an honored guest here, where I am just the hired help…sort of.” “Just the hired help? I sincerely doubt that. You are a very beautiful and intelligent young woman. I don’t believe someone like you would be here doing the things you do unless you really wanted to. But, that aside, I will answer your question.” Both women accepted fresh drinks from a waiter who approached them. Margot raised her glass to her lips, sipped. “I believe you know something of James’s and my background?” In fact, Vladimir had briefed Kat on the Vanderbrucks during rehearsals for the scenario. “A little,” she answered. “More privileged than my own, I understand. Wealthy, influential, powerful.” “Yes, all those things. But also very conservative, believe it or not. Throughout our married life, neither of us had ever had a sexual relationship with anyone but the other…until yesterday’s scenario.” “Really?” Kat was astonished. “Really. You should understand that, despite what you saw, what you took part in yesterday, James and I love each other very much. In the context of our respective families and friends, our heritage and upbringing, it is unthinkable that we should lead anything other than a respectably conventional, irreproachable lifestyle. We are talking, you see, about a faction of American 192

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

society whose lives are steeped in tradition, power through both money and politics, and above all…breeding.” Margot paused. “I sound like a pompous, class conscious bitch, don’t I?” “We have no control over what we are born to.” “True, but we do have a choice as to what we do later in life. You made yours. You became an actress, perhaps breaking away from what your parents hoped for you?” “Perhaps,” Kat conceded. “Although they were nevertheless supportive. But then my background is not even close to yours. I come from what is generally referred to as the English upper middle class, which basically means being reasonably wealthy and having the benefit of a good education. But my parents were far from being landed gentry.” “Well, anyway, James and I followed a course that met with the approval and expectations of our parents, and on the whole we enjoy a comfortable, fulfilling lifestyle. In fact, I would go as far as to say that neither of us would change it. Except that…” When the other woman paused, Kat prompted her with a raised eyebrow, and for the first time since she had met her, Margot Vanderbruck looked less than totally self assured, actually turning her eyes from Kat as she continued. “One of the many things James and I have in common is a powerful libido. We enjoy sex tremendously. Over the years we have experimented — in private, of course — with just about every form of sexuality we could without committing adultery. We have fantasized about all manner of situations involving each other with different partners, but never, until yesterday, did we cross the line between fantasy and reality. That was Armand Levequ’s gift to us. In a careless moment when his tongue was loosened by alcohol, James told him what I have just told you. Armand, being the good friend that he is, and having the incredible resources to make it possible, offered to make our fantasies reality…with absolute safety and security. We thought 193

Judith Devere

and talked about it long and hard, and eventually… Well, you know the rest, you were part of it.” Kat said, “I see. And have you any regrets after the event?” Margot smiled, clearly comfortable again now. She shook her head. “None whatever. Yesterday’s scenario was the single most thrilling experience of our lives. And to answer your question, watching James fuck you while I was being…gang banged — I believe that’s the expression? — was wildly, deeply exciting. I never try to count orgasms; yesterday it would have been impossible anyway.” “Kat! How did you manage to sneak out here without my seeing you?” The male voice from behind Kat triggered instant recognition of the man who had been talking to Ming and Frederique. She turned to face the Master of Chateau Levequ, who was smiling broadly. “Armand. I didn’t know you had returned.” “This morning. On the Bacchus.” He turned to look at Margot Vanderbruck. “I would like to have been here yesterday to witness the scenario I had Vladimir put together for James and Margot, but I didn’t want my presence to inhibit them and take the edge off the experience.” Leaning into Kat, he kissed her full on the lips. For some reason, she was taken aback at the undisguised warmth, passion even, in the kiss. The last time she had seen Armand he had effectively consigned her to nearly an hour of strict discipline, nerve rending punishment and total sexual degradation — albeit with her nominal consent. The spectacle had been witnessed by Madam SIN, her entourage and, most humiliatingly, by Camille. Armand’s kiss now reminded Kat more of the night hours immediately prior to that event, when he had shared her bed and made love to her in a myriad of ways, being variously demanding, forceful and uncharacteristically tender. 194

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Drawing away from her again, he turned to Margot. “So, Margot…was it all you had hoped for?” “Oh, much, much more, Armand. That’s what Kat and I were talking about. Vladimir produced an excellent scenario, and the cast…if that’s the right word for those taking the parts of the various characters…well, they were totally convincing. Totally. For James and me it seemed real. No, it was real.” Margot turned to look at Kat. “Kat here was the most convincing biker slut. I watched James fuck her while I was being…raped.” Although she had been speaking with relish, her eyes glowing as if she were reliving the incident, Margot suddenly faltered, flush with apparent embarrassment. “Oh, my God, Armand, I can’t believe I’m speaking to you like this. After all these years of propriety in our relationship, and here I am, suddenly talking like some hooker or a porn star. What must you think of me now?” Armand laughed. “You might be surprised, Margot. But tell me, does it feel good?” “Actually, yes, it does. Very good. Kat mentioned catharsis a few moments ago, which is probably the right word for what James and I experienced. In Vladimir’s scenario we found release and fulfillment, the realization of something we desperately craved but thought we would never be able to indulge in. Of course, when we go back to Massachusetts we will naturally resume our cloaks of respectability, but here…” She gestured, palms upward, as if her presence at Chateau Levequ said it all; perhaps it did. “I’m glad I was able to help you both fulfill your desires. As a long time friend, it gives me great pleasure.” “Our friendship will never be quite the same from now on though, will it?” Armand smiled. “Probably not. But perhaps deeper in understanding.” 195

Judith Devere

“Yes, I think so. In any event, Armand, James and I have never experienced a more exhilarating and deeply gratifying experience in our entire lives. I hope that yesterday wasn’t just a once in a lifetime event.” Armand shook his head. “L’Île des Désirs and Chateau Levequ are always at your disposal, Margot darling. And if you and James run out of ideas or fantasies, I’m sure Christina and her team will be able to contrive infinite options for your pleasure. That is, after all, the raison d’etre of this place.” Before Margot could reply, the dinner chimes sounded inside the house. Madam SIN addressed the assembled company. “I hope everyone is hungry. I’ve brought in Marcel Vercout for the weekend, so the food will be the finest to be had anywhere.” Gesturing with a graceful sweep of her arm toward the French windows and the dining room beyond, she added, “Shall we?” No matter how accustomed she thought she had become to the world of Armand Levequ, there was always some new surprise for Kat. Although to Armand, with his inestimable wealth and influence, it was probably no more than a minor accomplishment, the fact Madam SIN had procured on his behalf the services of the world’s most celebrated and Michelin honored chef was undoubtedly an impressive coup. “Marcel Vercout!” Margot exclaimed, reflecting the magnitude of the revelation. “Christina, that is just amazing. How on earth did you manage that?” Madam SIN smiled, casting a sideways glance at Armand as they entered the dining room. “Well, Margot, let’s just say that Marcel’s appetites are not confined to culinary delights.” Margot laughed. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I love it that the famous master of the kitchen has a taste for carnal pleasures also. I wonder if his creativity extends to that area also. I must ask him.” 196

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Madam SIN said, “You may get an opportunity to do just that before you leave, Margot.” Then, seeing that everyone had identified their places around the dinner table, she said, “Please, make yourselves comfortable, and prepare for what I predict will be a memorable meal.” Armand, at the head of the table, faced Madam SIN at the other end. Margot sat on his immediate left, next to Vladimir and then Ming, while Frederique occupied the seat on his right. Kat had the center place on the right, between Frederique and James. As they took their places, flutes of champagne were quickly distributed by the servants. Armand stood, raised his glass. “A toast to our guests, Margot and James. Welcome to the pleasures of Chateau Levequ.” The others drank to the toast, then Madam SIN said, “I can’t think why you haven’t been here before. I’m sure Armand must have invited you.” “Indeed he has, Christina,” Margot replied. “Many times. And I have wanted to come to this island for such a long time. It is legendary among the privileged circle of Armand’s trusted confidantes. The problem is that James has always been too busy; he rarely allows himself leisure time. And…if I’m honest…I’m not sure we fully believed everything we had heard about L’Île des Désirs.” “I do now,” James said with a broad grin. He turned to face Armand. “You know, Armand, I had heard snippets about the hedonistic happenings at Chateau Levequ, but I could never have guessed at the reality. I suppose I thought it would be something like Heffner’s Playboy mansion, only with a bit more debauchery. How wrong I was. What you have created here is truly incredible.” “Thank you, James. And now that you and Margot have turned one of your fantasies into reality, I hope you will take full advantage of the place while you are here. As you say, almost 197

Judith Devere

anything is possible here. Christina and her associates are among the most accomplished people alive in their respective fields.” “After yesterday I don’t doubt that for a second, Armand.” Two wine waiters moved between the diners, pouring pale gold Montrachet into glasses that clouded instantly as the chilled wine reacted to the humidity. Noticing the effect, Armand said, “Does anyone want air conditioning?” There were no takers, for it was, after all, not uncomfortable in the constant embrace of a balmy Caribbean breeze that snaked up the mountainside and sifted through the French windows into the dining room. And so the pleasant, time honored social ritual of dinner got underway. As was often the case when people were relaxed and at ease in each other’s company, conversation flowed easily, sometimes occupying everyone’s collective attention, sometimes fragmenting into several topics shared among two or more of the diners. Accompanied by a selection of Armand’s finest Burgundies and clarets, course followed course, each, as anticipated, a gastronomic sensation in its own right. The servants — this evening a mix of male and female, black and Caucasian — moved unobtrusively about their tasks under Camille’s watchful eye. Attire for the servants at dinner varied according to the occasion and Madam SIN’s preference, or if she expressed none, to the decision of the Head of Household. Tonight the women wore black dresses with white collars and white aprons, while the men were dressed in white shirts, black knee breeches and white stockings. As for the Head of Household herself, Camille had dressed simply in a white lace blouse and black pencil skirt, and had eschewed makeup entirely. Even thus plainly presented, though, Kat could not but acknowledge, if grudgingly, how beautiful the caramel skinned mulatto was. So much so, in fact, that she felt a sort of ache in her womb each time she caught a glimpse of the woman. For the 198

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

first time in her life, Kat now realized, she truly understood the concept of a love/hate relationship. The voice of James Vanderbruck broke Kat’s train of thought. “You were very good, Kat.” She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry?” He was smiling at her, his ocean blue eyes luminescent in the refracted light from the crystal chandeliers. He was handsome in the classic white American sense, reminded her a little of Robert Redford. “Yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to speak to you since. Or, for that matter at all since our brief meeting in the hallway when Margot and I arrived here with Christina.” “No. As I’ve already explained to Margot, that was intentional. Knowing that I was to play Junie, Vladimir felt I would be more convincing if we didn’t get to know each other socially until after the scenario.” “Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know that, as far as I was concerned, you were Junie. And I could never in my wildest dreams have imagined the possibility of experiencing such a devastating encounter with a beautiful biker slut.” Kat flashed James a wicked smile. “Exciting, wasn’t it?” “Oh, that it was. I almost can’t believe it happened now; it seems like a fiercely erotic dream.” “It was real enough. I can feel it now — you, deep inside me…fucking me like an animal as you watched Wolf fuck your wife, while the others fondled her, teased her with mouths and tongues and teeth.” Suddenly, James’s smile was gone, the blue light in his eyes burning even brighter, as if kindled by some internal heat source. “My God!” he murmured. “One sentence; that’s all it took. One sentence from you and I’m hard.” Kat somehow knew that he wasn’t lying, and she found his 199

Judith Devere

reaction strangely gratifying. His frank acknowledgement went way beyond flattery; it was empowering. She could feel the wine permeating her senses, and wondered if it was laced this evening. Although she knew with absolute certainty what she would encounter, she slipped her hand under the table and over his thigh. “Really?” she asked, rhetorically, as she laid her hand on his pulsing erection. He gasped as Kat felt for his zipper, began sliding it down. Somehow, it seemed to Kat that she and James were in a bubble, a world of their own that had become in some way insulated from the others in the room; from their sight and from their conversation. As if in a dream she reached into his pants, searched for and freed his penis. His features sort of crumpled, his eyes seeming to focus on something a thousand miles beyond the room as she enfolded his hardened shaft in her hand, and began to explore its asymmetrical contours with questing fingers. Feeling him hard in her hand, Kat began to hunger for him. Although not huge, his cock had given her great pleasure the previous day; it seemed a good fit somehow. She wanted to take him in her mouth, right then and there; to taste him and run her tongue over the swollen veins. And she was wet, her thighs sleek with arousal. She squirmed in her chair, and as she did so, caught Ming’s eye. Diagonally opposite her across the table, her Chinese eternal tormentor was smiling at her enigmatically, and in that moment Kat knew why she could not control her herself, was certain that Ming had indeed arranged for something to be slipped into her wine. Knowing now that she had ingested something from Ming’s range of powerful hypnotic aphrodisiacs, she mentally surrendered to the inevitability of her situation. “Does anyone mind if I suck James’s cock?” she asked, loudly. 200

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

The immediate response around the table was solid stone silence, followed almost at once by peels of laughter, the diners clearly perceiving the question as a ribald joke. “My, my, Kat,” Madam SIN said, smiling and shaking her head. “How you’ve changed since you first arrived here. Butter wouldn’t have melted in your mouth then. Now you jest like a trooper.” “I’m not joking, Christina. I have James’s cock in my hand under the table. I want to take it in my mouth, to make him come, here, with everyone present.” Madam SIN’s smile withered instantly, her brow furrowing in disapproval. “Kat! You presume too much. How dare you take such liberties with our guests without their agreement?” Looking to James, she added, uncertainly, “As far as I am aware this was not prearranged?” James opened his mouth to speak but no words came. Ming smiled as she watched the little drama unfold. It was Margot who broke the silence. “No, Christina, it certainly was not prearranged. Kat has taken it upon herself to make this overture. Clearly, she enjoyed her encounter with my husband yesterday and seeks to revisit the experience.” Madame SIN’s eyes remained on Kat. “Don’t worry, Margot, Kat will be punished severely for this transgression.” Ming’s eyes positively gleamed at this statement. “No, Christina, wait.” Margot looked across the table at her husband. “Is it true, James? Does Kat have your cock in her hand?” James nodded. “Yes, darling.” His wife was smiling now. “I see. And…do you want her to take you in her mouth? Here, now, before all these people?” James half closed his eyes as Kat gently squeezed his cock. “Very much.” Turning to look at Madame SIN, Margot said, “I have no 201

Judith Devere

objection, Christina. On the contrary, in fact, I’d love to see Kat pleasure James again; we both so enjoyed it yesterday.” The smile had found its way back to Madame SIN’s lips. “Very well, then,” she said, looking along both sides of the table. “If nobody else objects — and I doubt that anyone will — why don’t we let Kat demonstrate her expertise? After all, dinner is virtually over; we can watch the proceedings over the port.” While those around the table joined in a murmur of approval, Madame SIN beckoned Camille to her side, whispered in her ear. Camille nodded, then spoke to two male servants who brought a chaise longue from the far side of the room and placed it at an acute angle to the dining table about ten feet away. As the wine waiters served the port, Madam SIN said, “There, Kat, the stage is set. Why don’t you take James over to the chaise?” Still holding James by his erect penis, Kat rose from the table and led him to the chaise longue, where, under her instruction, he sat facing the table so that all seated there would have a clear view of what was about to take place. Kneeling between his thighs, Kat reached forward, unbuckled his belt and fully opened his fly so that his entire loins were exposed, the thick shaft of his penis straining upright from the surrounding shrub of flaxen hair. His mouth slightly open, James stared down across this prospect at Kat, whose palms now rested on his thighs, her eyes fixed securely on his pulsing cockhead. The room was silent now, all eyes centered on the developing tableau at the chaise longue. Kat leaned forward, her hands slowly sliding up along James’s thighs. Margot turned to Armand, whispered in his ear. Armand nodded, smiled, then said, “Kat, Margot thinks you should undress. I tend to agree; I think it would enhance everyone’s enjoyment of what is about to happen if you were naked; especially James’s.” 202

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Without acknowledging Armand or breaking eye contact with James, Kat rose, and began to remove her dress. Moments later she wore only self-supporting cream lace stockings and matching patent leather shoes. As if in slow motion, she sank to the floor again to sit on her calves as she knelt between James’s knees. She leaned forward, and, reaching for the collar of his dress shirt, removed his bow tie. Then, one by one she deftly flicked open his shirt buttons, incrementally parting his shirt to reveal the well defined musculature of his torso and the golden forest of his chest hair. In the course of this process, her nipples, swollen and peaked in her own arousal, traced an invisible meandering course across his testicles, over and around his pulsing cock, then up, and finally back down his abdomen. A long low murmur sounded in his throat at this tantalizing tactile overture. “Excuse me,” Margot said, huskily, rising from her chair. “I want to see this close up.” Moving across to the chaise longue, she sat about two feet from where James now sprawled in the V of the arm and the backrest. She looked first at her husband, then at Kat, who both acknowledged her presence, James with a look of almost apologetic helpless abandon, Kat with a sensual smile. She reached out to brush her fingers down James’s cheek. “Enjoy,” she whispered. Smiling at her, Margot she placed her other hand on the back of Kat’s neck, applying downward gentle pressure. In response, Kat lowered her head, parting her lips to admit the blood engorged head of James’s penis into her mouth. He uttered a long groan, his body stiffening, muscles tautening. Placing her hands on his upper thighs, each on either side of his cock, Kat lowered her face toward his belly, slowly taking him deeper into her mouth. She knew that he was intensely aroused, but no more than she. Whatever Ming had slipped into her wine had fired Kat’s senses. The sheer animal aroma of James’s masculinity 203

Judith Devere

exuding from a bead of clear, viscous fluid at the eye of his cock had inflamed her. Now, his taste and the sensation of his exotic contours under her busy tongue almost drove her to distraction. As she performed her intimate devotions on James, she inched backward a little, at the same time raising her buttocks from her calves and moving her knees wider apart on the floor to wantonly offer her fellow diners an unequivocal view of her glistening hairless sex and the dark divide above it. As murmurs and gasps of appreciation rose from around the table, a smile of proprietary approval, perhaps even pride, played across Madam SIN’s lips. Leaning closer, Margot Vanderbruck watched with rapt attention as Kat’s head rose and fell over her husband’s loins, watched how, with each descent, Kat’s hungry mouth devoured the gleaming pillar of flesh, only to disgorge it again on ascending. James seemed transported beyond the existence of his surroundings, his face slick with perspiration, contorted in what looked like a blend of torment and ecstasy. Inching a little closer, Margot moved her hand from Kat’s neck, inserting it instead under her arm to cup and gently squeeze her breast. The bulk of James’s cock in Kat’s mouth stifled her small murmur of pleasure at Margot’s touch. Margot slid slowly to the floor alongside Kat, running her hands down along the younger woman’s spine and over the smooth mounds of her buttocks. At this, Kat spread even wider in a brazen invitation to Margot to venture further. Moving around Kat’s haunches, Margot stared, seemingly mesmerized, at the prospect that now lay before her. The valley between Kat’s buttocks lay open, exposing the tightly crinkled golden orifice at its heart. Beneath, a mere finger and thumb pinch away, the pink fleshy folds of Kat’s labia emulated the petals of a flower, surrounding and emphasizing the deeper pink well of her vulva. As if deliberately anointed, the entire delicate flesh-flower 204

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

gleamed under a veneer of spring-fed fluid, the overspill of which trickled in little rivulets down Kat’s inner thighs. Her left palm resting on Kat’s left buttock, Margot paused for a long moment. Had yesterday’s experience emboldened her enough to advance further on this taboo journey of discovery? She turned to look at Madam SIN, confusion and lust vying for dominance in her eyes. Christina’s smile seemed to reassure her, the marginal nod of her head did the rest. Kat tensed, stiffened, as Margot slowly ran the fingers of her right hand down between her buttocks, perfectly manicured fingernails gently grazing the tender, vulnerable flesh. Kat uttered a muted whimper as Margot’s fingers progressed on their exploratory descent. When they reached the portal of her sex, she wriggled her bottom, willing Margot to continue. **** Despite her own anguished arousal, Kat somehow managed to maintain control over the now writhing James. He had already approached orgasm several times in response to her insistent lips and tongue; now rising and falling on his straining cock; now twisting and turning around the shaft; now sucking and gently biting on the head alone. And all the time kneading and caressing his balls. Each time he threatened to climax, she used Junie’s pinching technique again to stem the tide. “Mng! Mnggggg!” Kat grunted, pushing back hard against Margot’s hand as the other woman’s fingers played among the outer pleats of her sex. **** Margot started at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Withdrawing her hands from Kat, she turned to see Armand 205

Judith Devere

Levequ leaning over her. Her eyes widened in surprise. He was naked, his penis erect, rigid. Her gaze switched from his cock to his face, and in that moment she seemed to recognize a long suspected but subliminalized truth. “Armand,” she whispered. “Are you going to…fuck me?” Armand did not answer. Instead, he looked at James, who despite Kat’s unremitting assault on his senses, clearly perceived the implications of Armand’s bending over his wife, naked and sporting an immense erection; not to mention Margot’s as yet unanswered question. Margot, too, looked at her husband. His eyes half closed, breathing labored, James looked from Armand and Margot to Kat as she earnestly bent to her task, her lips sliding up and down the length of his distended cock. He turned his gaze back on his wife. For a moment their eyes locked, then he looked at Armand again…and nodded. Margot turned to look over her shoulder at Armand, her eyes glowing. “You know I’ve wanted this for the longest time,” she said. “Yes.” He reached for the zip at the back of her dress, pulled it down in a single smooth stroke. The dress slipped free of her upper body in a silken whisper, baring her proud, upturned breasts. Armand pressed against her, the rigid bulk of his penis hard against her spine. Reaching under her arms, he grasped her breasts firmly, squeezing them hard so that the blood rushed to her nipples, swelling them. Margot uttered a little cry of pain, but at the same time laid her own hands over his, adding to the pressure. Armand bent on one knee, whispered in Margot’s ear. “Don’t forget Kat. You want to touch her again, don’t you?” Staring once again at the visual feast of Kat’s naked loins, Margot nodded. Wresting free of Margot’s right hand, Armand took it in his 206

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

own, reaching toward Kat’s inner thigh. Guiding Margot’s hand under his own, he returned her fingers to the sleek petals of Kat’s sex, languorously rotating them over the inflamed bud of her clitoris. Kat’s body stiffened at once in a spasm of orgasm, her shoulders rolling, hips bucking. Seeking to prolong the pleasure, she squirmed against Margot’s fingertips for what seemed a long time, but was perhaps only seconds. When Kat’s climax eventually began to recede, Armand transferred the first and second fingers of Margot’s hand from Kat’s clitoris to the lip of her vulva, easing them with his own deep into the clinging silken sheath. Whimpering, Kat rocked against their conjoined fingers, her hips rising and falling urgently. Now Armand took Margot’s free hand in his own and placed the fingers upon the slippery narrow bridge of flesh between Kat’s sex and the puckered aperture that lay just above it. Margot’s breathing quickened as Armand first lubricated these fingers with Kat’s copious emission, then eased them up between her buttocks. Kat groaned as, under Armand’s guidance, the first and second fingers of Margot’s left hand now penetrated her anus in parallel with those buried in her sex, triggering a second orgasm. **** Kat shuddered uncontrollably, and in her rapture finally allowed James’s his release also. Shock waves seemed to pulse repeatedly through her body from the epicenter of her womb, pure pleasure threatening to transport her beyond the existence of the room and those in it. What kept her anchored to reality — just — were the copious globs of semen that exploded, hot and viscous, in her mouth. None escaped. Kat gulped and swallowed repeatedly until the rage of James’s climax subsided, only then releasing his penis from her mouth. Having almost forgotten the 207

Judith Devere

presence of the fingers inside her, she moaned as Margot slowly withdrew them. Kat laid her head on the muscular pillow of James’s thighs, a beatific smile on her lips as they both luxuriated in the warm afterglow that characterizes the best of orgasms. She felt deliciously drained, exhausted. But she was far from finished — Armand was about to see to that. She opened her eyes as he ran the back of his hand across her cheek. Seeing the query in her expression, he said, “On the chaise longue, Kat. Margot wants to experience the taste of a woman.” Margot snapped her head around to look at Armand, as if she were about to vigorously deny the statement. But when he met her gaze with dark, resolute eyes, she said nothing, instead casting her own eyes down toward the floor like a chastened schoolgirl. Kat rose and turned to sit on the chaise opposite Margot. Looking down on the other woman, who was now naked above the waist, she thought how especially beautiful she looked when aroused. “Kat.” Recognizing the instruction in the tone of Armand’s voice, Kat did what was expected of her. Margot stared as the lovely young woman sitting before her eased her buttocks to the edge of the chaise longue, and parted her thighs wide. Once again Margot confronted the prospect of Kat’s smoothly shaven sex, the delicate pink labia still slick from orgasm. “She’s never done this before, Kat,” Armand said. “Help her.” Kat leaned forward, her expression unusually solemn as she reached for Margot. Slipping her fingers into the other woman’s hair, she grasped it, urging her closer between her outspread thighs. Margot transferred her gaze from Kat’s sex to her eyes, as if expecting to read something there. When she saw nothing but an enigmatic gleam, she focused once again on the confluence of Kat’s parted thighs as Kat drew her closer. Her nostrils flared 208

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

involuntarily at the delicate aroma of musk. When her cheeks brushed Kat’s thighs, mere inches from her sex, Kat released her grip on Margot’s hair. Kat’s own cheeks and throat were flushed now as she looked down at the other woman’s face between her thighs, feeling her moist warm breath on the tender flesh of her sex. “My…cunt, Margot,” she whispered. “Don’t you want to taste it?” Margot ran her tongue over her lips in what might have been either a nervous or anticipatory reflex. “I…don’t…know. I…” She swallowed, hard, perhaps on the point of retreat. Both James and Armand were watching, clearly fascinated by this highly charged interplay. Armand, sitting on the floor now with one arm around a raised knee, was still erect, hard, his penis steadily pulsing, nodding in time with his heartbeat. And although he could not yet have fully recovered from the devastating orgasm that Kat had induced only minutes earlier, James too was obviously moved by the prospect, as was evident from the sudden stirring of his penis. Locking her eyes on Margot’s, Kat ran a wanton hand over her own breasts, caressing the nipples en-route to her belly and her sex. Margot stared, gasped, as Kat slowly, deliberately, slid her middle finger into her vulva. With hooded eyelids, Kat moved the finger slowly back and forth several times with little shivers and sharp intakes of breath each time the tip softly grazed her clitoris. A little cry escaped her lips, her eyes briefly rolling upward as she suddenly thrust the finger deep inside herself. For a moment she remained completely motionless in this position, then slowly withdrew her finger, glistening now in the light of the chandeliers. Margot’s breathing was rapid, shallow, her eyes glassy. Instinctively, she flinched as Kat reached out her hand toward her face, the middle finger extended in an arc. A little shiver 209

Judith Devere

shook her shoulders when Kat placed the finger, moist and pungent, to her lips, smearing them with her arousal. “Taste me.” Kat whispered. Hesitantly, Margot parted her lips, allowed Kat to slip the finger between them. Taste of a woman. For a moment, it looked as if Margot might faint from sensual overload. But then she seemed to recover, her eyelids drooping sensually as she began to gently suck on Kat’s finger, tasting, exploring, devouring the offering. Kat smiled, withdrew the finger, and reaching for each of her ankles in turn, lifted her legs to hook her heels onto the edge of the chaise longue. In this position, legs apart and bent double at the knee, Kat’s labia parted like little pink theatre curtains, revealing the glistening flower of her sex in its entirety. At this, Margot shuddered and, murmuring incoherently, lowered her head between Kat’s widespread thighs. Kat moaned as Margot tentatively extended her tongue to explore the delicate pleats of flesh, at the same time inhaling Kat’s intimate feminine aroma like some new and exotic perfume. After a few moments of this, Margot suddenly drove her tongue greedily into Kat’s core, slurping noisily as if she were savoring a ripe mango. Then, her curiosity in this regard seeming temporarily satisfied, she began the experimental process of licking and swirling and rotating the tip of her tongue over and around Kat’s clitoris. Kat threw back her head, crying out and sobbing in response to Margot’s eager ministrations. So immersed were they in their own, and each other’s pleasure, that the two women seemed blissfully unconscious of the transfixed gazes of the onlookers, both fellow diners and servants. The atmosphere in the dining room was charged with almost palpable carnal tension, and Armand, it seemed, could hold back no longer. Her face still buried in Kat’s labia, Margot offered no resistance when he hauled the hem of her dress up 210

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

around her waist to expose her thighs and the perfect globes of her buttocks, or when he slid his fingers into her thong and pulled it away from her body. Using both hands and considerable strength, he ripped the delicate garment asunder, then removed the remnants, a sodden strand of silk, by slowly withdrawing it through her inflamed slit. He took her without any preamble, was neither gentle nor tender, but simply drove his rigid cock into the heart of her sex. At this, she flinched, her feral grunt muffled in the moist folds of Kat’s vulva. Wasting no time, Armand began to deliver thrust after violent thrust into the kneeling woman, the gap between each incrementally decreasing until, after a few minutes, he was fucking her with rapid but long, deep fluid strokes. Margot gasped for air, each ragged breath rasping in time with the penetration and withdrawal of Armand’s foraging cock. Yet still she continued to pleasure Kat, the delving of her tongue matching the tempo of Armand’s cock now, thrust for thrust. **** James watched with fire in his eyes, greedily absorbing the carnal imagery as his long time friend and associate joined with his wife and Kat in a pas-de-trois of unbridled lust. He was fiercely erect. As he watched, his hand moved, as if of its own accord, to the shaft, his fingers curling around it. He rose from the chaise longue, the better to view the scene. Resting his right knee on the chaise, he placed his left foot on the floor so that he was halfkneeling, half-standing. Although he was perhaps not conscious of the fact, he had begun to slowly masturbate as he watched. Noticing this, Madam SIN beckoned one of the black female servants and spoke to her quietly. The woman, who was about thirty, looked Ethiopian rather than West Indian or African American. Her flesh was blue-black, 211

Judith Devere

her hair cropped close to her head. She was astonishingly beautiful, with high, finely defined cheekbones and generous lips. Slender but full breasted, she was also endowed with long athletic legs that carried her, as now, with a sensual yet somehow regal bearing. **** On the chaise longue Kat maintained a tight grip on her ankles, panting furiously as Margot’s mouth and tongue worked feverishly at her sex, her head moving to the rhythm of Armand’s hips behind her. In the near delirium of her arousal, Kat watched through narrowed eyelids as the servant, whom she recalled was named Shona, moved toward the chaise longue, undressing as she walked. Kat had always wondered why Madam SIN had assigned this black goddess to the serving staff, rather than to the performer cadre who lived at the village. Perhaps she would ask…later. For now, though, the prospect of Shona’s joining the carnal celebration of which Kat was already a part was all that mattered. In the short distance between Madam SIN’s chair and the chaise longue, Shona had already discarded her apron and unbuttoned her dress at the back. She slipped her shoulders and arms free of the dress now, laying bare her upper body. Although large, her breasts were firm enough to defy the tow of gravity without the support of a brassiere, merely quivering with each footstep she took. The nipples protruded like thick stubs of unpolished jet, filling Kat with a sudden desperate longing to know what it would be like to take them into her mouth, to suck and gently bite the resilient flesh. Standing just a few feet from the chaise longue now, Shona ran her eyes over the fornicating trio, pausing to hold Kat with the intensity of a gaze that seemed to suggest she knew exactly 212

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

what was passing through her mind. Her eyes flashed dangerously, but the then flicker of a near smile at the corners of her mouth mitigated the phenomenon — just. Intrigued by the sheer sexual energy of the woman’s presence, and the fact that a mere servant could be so intimidating, Kat subconsciously resolved to explore the enigma later. Placing her palms against her hips, Shona pushed them downward, sloughing the dress to the floor. In single fluid movement, she removed the black silk panties that had seemed almost a part of her flesh. Black tipped pink labia peeked from the cleft of her smoothly shaven sex. Her manifestation among the small group in this dramatically erotic fashion proved compelling enough even to divert James’s attention from the spectacle of Armand and Kat simultaneously pleasuring themselves in his wife. Turning toward him, Shona looked him in the eye, while his own gaze ran up and down her body with undisguised hunger. She moved into him, her breasts against his chest, her belly gently crushing his erect penis between their bodies. She kissed him full on the mouth, a long breath denying kiss, then began to slither down his body to the floor. Her nipples laid invisible trails of desire down his belly, over and around his genitals. On her knees, she paused briefly to take him in her mouth, before turning away from him and lowering herself onto all fours. Now, she turned toward Margot, moving forward until their bodies made contact in the shape of a letter T. Overlaying the small of Margot’s back with her breasts, she placed one hand on her the other woman’s buttocks, the other between her shoulders. Standing behind the black beauty, James looked down, entranced by developments. Shona’s intervention had served to stoke Armand’s lust to even a more frenetic fervor, while Kat, gaping down at the feast of black and white female flesh, had grasped Margot by the hair, 213

Judith Devere

and was gyrating her sex against her face. Black on white, Shona writhed over Margot’s body, crushing her breasts against the small of the other woman’s back, running one hand over and between her buttocks, while caressing the ivory expanse of her shoulders, arms and hanging breasts with the other. **** As he stared, James was reminded of a television wildlife program he had once seen, in which dozens of snakes had tangled together in frenetic mass copulation. For some inexplicable reason, that mental image provoked his arousal beyond further endurance. Dropping to his knees behind Shona, he reached for the twin black globes of her buttocks and eased them apart, this spreading her labia wide and opening up the pink sheath of her vulva. As he drove hard into her, she moved back against him with equal, opposite force. There was no warmup, no gradual picking up of pace; instead James began to fuck the ravishing black servant with unfettered animal aggression. But far from being intimidated or repulsed, Shona soon demonstrated that she was more than equal to James’s rapacious appetite. How long after he had first penetrated her no one could have said, but at some stage prompted by either her own need, or desire to intensify his pleasure, she wriggled free of his pounding cock. He growled and gripped her by the hips, but before he could plunge into her again, she grasped his organ and guided it into the heart of her buttocks. Slippery with her own arousal, his rigid flesh slid easily into her anus as she pushed hard back, impaling herself firmly upon him. With a roar of approval, he launched into her forbidden depths with renewed vigor. Shortly afterwards, Shona slid her hand between Margot’s buttocks, testing her capacity to submit to similar treatment by 214

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

easing a finger into the tight little orifice of her rectum. Shona smiled at Margot’s shocked groan of protest, moistly muffled though it was by the folds of Kat’s sex. Fortunately, Margot’s arousal ensured that there was more than sufficient lubrication for what Shona intended, and after several minutes of fingering her thus, she pushed hard against Armand’s pubis, disconnecting him from Margot’s sex in mid-thrust. Before he could protest at the interruption, she grasped his cock and introduced the head to what was by now the last vestige of virginity to which the doyen of New England society might legitimately lay claim. A grim smile flickered across Armand’s lips. Seeing what was about to happen to his wife, James paused momentarily on a forward thrust of his own hips. The ambiguity of his expression suggested indecision, some deep inner struggle, but the phenomenon was fleeting, banished by the sudden feral gleam in his eyes. As Armand penetrated his wife with a long, steady lunge, so he bore deep into Shona again. Every eye in the room remained steadfastly fixed on the orgiastic vignette unfolding on and around the chaise longue. Unscripted and unrehearsed, it ran a course dictated solely by carnal appetite; raw lust. And yet, underlying the apparent spontaneity of the participants, an alert observer might have perceived among them the existence of an unspoken understanding, some tacit sensual agreement that governed both the pace and ultimate duration of events. Naked flesh gleamed under a veneer of perspiration as bodies flexed and writhed, all five seemingly interdependent, moving as they did, like the parts of a handcrafted Swiss watch. The pace quickened steadily as each individual drew ever closer to the inevitable crescendo. At length, as it must do, the moment arrived. Above the cacophony generated by the players in this carnal drama; above the sound of ardent moans and pleas, of penetration and flesh slapping flesh, of cries of passion and 215

Judith Devere

pleasure; above all this rose a sudden soul rending shriek, which under different circumstances might have signified the demise of some pitiful creature at the hands of the huntsman. In fact — emanating as it did from the throat of Margot Vanderbruck as she wrenched free of Kat’s grip on her hair and threw back her head in abandon — it signified, not death, but the eruption of the most profoundly devastating climax of her life. The moment proved a watershed, a chain reaction triggering release in both Armand and James, and by extension, Kat and Shona. For at least an instant, all five were linked not just physically, but in the deliverance of all consuming orgasm. **** Perhaps Kat was the first to stir from the collective post-climactic torpor; when she thought about it later she wouldn’t be sure. What she was certain of, though, was that at some point in the closing stages of the impromptu orgy, Christina SIN and her entourage had discreetly withdrawn from the scene, as had the servants. Unnoticed by the celebrants, the lights had been dimmed also, presumably to render their gradual recovery as decorous as possible under the circumstances. Now, one by one, the men and women who, during the course of the past hour, had collaborated in achieving the ultimate consummation of sensual desire, gathered their shattered senses, rose and left the dining room. No words were spoken or were necessary, and only a few brief glances and self-conscious smiles were exchanged. Armand was the last to leave, and as he closed the door behind him the first of the servants returned to commence the task of airing and cleaning the dining room. By breakfast time, with sunlight and the morning breeze spilling in through the French windows, there would not be a shred of evidence left of this night’s debauchery. 216

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Ten

I

n the early hours of the morning, long after the orgy in the dining room, Kat was awoken by a small sound. It was a sound that was incongruent with the night symphony of wind whispering through foliage, the castanet clicking of cicadas and the faint lapping of the ocean upon the distant shore to which her sleeping subconscious was accustomed. She opened her eyes. Moonlight cast her bedroom in a soft, silver luminescence. She had fallen asleep as she now awoke, naked and lying on her side facing the French windows. The bed covers lay around her calves, cast aside so that the balmy night breeze had full license to explore and caress her body. The sound again, this time, more than just incongruent: recognizable. It was the sound of unshod feet crossing the floor, though not secretively, as might signify the presence of an intruder bent on mischief. Someone was in her room, moving toward her bed. There was nothing to fear, of course; at least not in the sense of any threat to her life or personal possessions, minimal though the latter were here anyway. Crime, she knew, simply did not exist on L’Île des Désirs. Both residents and visitors were scrupulously vetted, and those indentured to or employed by Armand Levequ had too much to lose to risk breaking his code of conduct. But even in this knowledge, Kat felt a crawling sensation ripple across her scalp and down the back 217

Judith Devere

of her neck to her shoulders. The mattress moved under added weight behind her. Cool flesh, masculine, muscular, pressed against her back. A deep voice, carried softly on faintly spice scented breath, sounded close to her ear. “Ah, so lovely; so…accommodating. You have come a long way from the naïve, innocent girl I used to admire from afar at your father’s mansion in England.” His voice spawned a writhing thrill in her loins. Hardly moving, Kat spoke into the night air that drifted in through the French windows. “Armand.” “Of course. Did you imagine that I would not come to you, Katrina?” “It’s Kat now.” She felt the hard evidence of his desire for her against her buttocks as he pressed closer. “In the company of others here, perhaps. But to me, you will always be Katrina, and that is how I shall always address you when we are alone. The name embodies what you were before I took possession of you, molded you to become what you are now.” As he spoke, Armand reached over her, his hand grasping her breast firmly. “And what am I now, Armand? What have I become?” she asked, a small whimper escaping her throat as he squeezed her nipple between his finger and thumb. Both it and its twin blossomed in response. She heard the smile in his voice as he answered, “My whore. Exquisite, exotic and very beautiful, but no less the whore for that. But more; for all intents and purposes…you are my slave, and slave to anyone else with whom I choose to share you. And you cannot know how much that pleases me. But do you know what pleases me above all else?” 218

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Tell me.” “That you have become what you are of your own free will.” Kat turned her head marginally toward him at this. “How can you say that? If I had not come here, bent to your will, you would have had my father sent to prison.” Again she could hear in his voice, feel his smile as he spoke. “But you have had the opportunity to leave since then. Remember your test at the half-way stage?” Kat remembered. Indeed, the experience remained indelibly etched in her mind: the sexual degradation she had had to endure, the humiliation, the anguish and the pain. And yet Armand was right. In one critical moment she had been offered freedom for herself and her father but had declined. Instead, she had chosen to see through the remainder of her indenture period in unmitigated sexual servitude. True, she had instantly regretted the decision then, but she could hardly deny now that she had made it. “Yes,” she answered. “You have almost realized your destiny here, Katrina.” “Almost?” “The process is by no means complete. But you have accepted that your will counts for nothing here. That was a major milestone in your…development. You willingly submit to whatever I or Christina or the others in authority here demand of you. And that submission has become a part of you. In fact, you have come to…relish the debauchery and sexual abuse, the torment and, yes, even the pain to which your role here renders you liable.” At this Kat turned to face Armand, her brow furrowed in a frown. “No!” she protested. His dark eyes smoldered in the half-light, holding her like a beautiful butterfly caught in a spider’s web. “Katrina, will you deny me?” 219

Judith Devere

“I…” She turned away again. “I…can’t.” Suddenly, without any warning, tears began to spill from her eyes. “Oh, Armand, what has become of me? I used to think I was a good person…but now…” Armand kissed her tenderly on the neck. “Listen to me, Katrina. You should not consider your present life, what you have become, in terms of your former morality. In this world…my world…the rules are entirely different. Yes, the things that happen here would shock, even incense most outsiders, but those things are not evil; simply different. And the overriding factor, the thing you should remember at all times, is that all who enter this world and take part in what happens here do so because they want to. You think, or thought, that I forced you to submit to the things you have experienced since that night in the gazebo at Rylands, and at the very beginning that was true…in a sense.” “In a sense?” Kat said, brushing the tears from her eyes. “Yes. In a sense only, because I recognized in you the same quality that drew me to your stepmother. Think back to the night of the annual reception at Rylands, the night you spied on Maguerite and me in my room.” As Armand spoke, recalled visual images flared in Kat’s mind. Her face flushed hot. He continued, “You watched her submit to me in ways you couldn’t begin to comprehend. Your own stepmother willingly offering herself up to be severely spanked, her dress up around her waist, her panties around her ankles. You watched her take me in her mouth, bring me to orgasm and allow my seed to spill into her mouth and over her face and breasts. And later, watched me fuck her like an animal.” As the lurid images in Kat’s mind faithfully reflected Armand’s description of the events of that momentous night, she relived the shock and the horror that vied with overpowering sensual 220

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

arousal for supremacy in her emotions. “Do you know why you slapped my face the next morning on the driveway?” “I hated you for betraying my father, for subjecting Marguerite to what I saw then as acts of unspeakable lechery and sadism.” “Perhaps, but it was more than that. I saw you looking through the partly open doorway as Marguerite and I were approaching orgasm. I remember it vividly even now; those pale, ice blue eyes of yours were burning, not just with anger, but with naked arousal…and envy. You may have hated me, but one of the reasons you slapped my face the next morning — very hard, as I recall — was that you also subconsciously resented me. Deep in your heart, in the repository of your soul, you craved the treatment Marguerite submitted to at my hands. But you were confused. Your arousal, envy and guilt combined to manifest as anger, the one emotion you could deal with…by venting it on me. Hence, the slap.” “Yes,” Kat said. It was a final, formal acknowledgement of something she had grown to accept, but had never before articulated; not even in her journal. “You are more like your stepmother than I suspect even you know. And when she was killed in the road accident, you seemed to grow even more like her…almost as if you had inherited a part of her personality. Remember how people used to comment on the resemblance? How people found it difficult to believe that Marguerite wasn’t your birth mother? I don’t know why or how, but that phenomenon extended to your sensual desires and needs also. You just didn’t know it then. I, on the other hand, did.” Listening to Armand, and reliving that fateful night and the morning after, Kat wondered now how it had taken her so long to see the amazing truth. She and her stepmother had been 221

Judith Devere

uncannily close and alike, not just in temperament, but in looks also. And it did seem that whatever bizarre freak of nature had been the cause, it had indeed extended to their sexuality. “I know it now. It’s why you have the power over me that you do.” “No longer…blackmail, then?” Again, she heard the smile in his voice, gently mocking this time. And although he couldn’t see it, a rueful smile tilted her own lips as she replied, “No. I can’t use that excuse any longer. Not now.” For a long moment neither of them spoke. Then Kat said, “You said that I have almost realized my destiny here?” “In the time since the annual reception at Rylands, you have come to accept unquestioning submission to whatever is required of you. The issue now is whether or not Christina’s conviction that you also have the potential to become an accomplished dominatrix is well-founded. Mistress Kat — has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it? Anyway, Christina believes that you are a potential switch. Do you feel that also?” “I don’t know. Sometimes. But I don’t feel remotely dominant at this moment.” “What do you feel?” “I want you to want me…carnally.” “Oh, but I do, Katrina. Why else would I be here in your bed?” “Last night, in the dining room, it was Margot you wanted, not me.” Armand laughed softly in the dark. “Margot and I wanted each other. What happened last night was the consummation of a long unspoken need. That I took her then and not you did not mean I didn’t also want you; it was just a question of… protocol… and priorities. Besides, you were already rather preoccupied with Margot yourself, remember? Did you enjoy 222

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

having one of the most beautiful and influential socialites in the entire United States on her knees, pleasuring your…cunt…with her tongue?” Kat squirmed at the recollection, a spring of moisture efflorescing in the depths of her sex. “Yes,” she replied, huskily. “It gave me considerable pleasure to watch her serve you like that while I took her. It was extremely arousing.” Kat felt his hardness pulse against the cleft of her buttocks as he spoke. “And now?” she asked him. “Now? Now I am going to take you.” Kat took a deep breath. “How?” “How should I take you?” “As you took Margot last night. As you took me that first time, the night in the gazebo at Rylands; unnaturally, brutally. Taking what you want without consideration for me. You made me what I have become; you should use me for what I am, for your own gratification.” “Ah, Katrina,” he whispered, his breath warm, moist on the back of her neck. “You have not disappointed me. In submission, you have become all that I hoped you would be. Go onto the balcony. Face the bay.” Obediently, Kat rose from her bed, walked out onto the balcony, her naked body pale in the bright luminescence of the moon. With trembling hands she grasped the stone balustrade, a wanton breeze caressing her flesh as she waited for him. From each corner of the balcony, hideous and goggle-eyed with gothic depravity, two ancient stone gargoyles seemed to leer at her in anticipation. Although her commitment to this moment had been both spontaneous and voluntary, she now wished that she had known in advance that it would come. Then, she could have prepared; eased the way for that most unnatural, degrading and potentially agonizing act by which a man can possess a woman. 223

Judith Devere

But it was too late for that; if she dallied, hesitated or asked to be excused for even a few moments, it would, she knew, detract from her act of submission, her sacrifice. She tensed as his fingertips brushed the back of her neck, then ran slowly down her spine. His foot pressed against her instep. Recognizing the unspoken instruction, she set her feet wider apart on the stone floor. He slid a hand, palm down, over the rise of her right buttock, then between her thighs. His middle finger, flanked by the others, raked easily through the furrow of her sex, the lips silky slick with her arousal. Satisfied as to her readiness for his purpose, he withdrew his hand, evoking a deep sigh from Kat in the process. “Bend for me, Katrina. Support yourself on the balustrade. Do you understand?” “Yes, Armand. I understand fully.” Bending from the waist, she complied with his instruction, laying her forearms upon the balustrade and using them as a pillow for her head. Armand stepped back a pace to appraise her stance, her upper body almost parallel with the floor, her long, slender legs set apart so that she was open to him. The twin globes of her buttocks, firm and smooth, glowed like white satin in the moonlight. She was exactly as he wanted her. Satisfied, he stepped up close to her again. Gripping her firmly by the hips, he inched forward. His cock needed no guidance; unerringly, it nudged between her parted upper thighs and, despite its bloated dimensions and rigidity, slipped into the sheath of her vulva like the proverbial hot knife through butter. She groaned as he impaled her, pushing back onto him. His long slow strokes evoked a chain of gasps and little cries from her throat. Almost lost in pleasure, she struggled to voice her puzzlement. “Ar…Armand, I… I want to please you. I thought you would want to….” “Yes, but…” 224

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

He paused as he drove deeply into her again, before slowly withdrawing from her completely. Kat sighed heavily at the sudden deprivation, then tensed and caught her breath as the head of his cock slid up between her buttocks to nuzzle against the tightly closed portal of her anus. “I don’t want damage you, or cause you pain that will detract from your mental and physical perception of what I am going to do to you. Your own effusion will help you bear what you must.” Of course. She should have realized. Lubrication. Armand’s principal purpose in the brief but gloriously pleasurable prelude had been to ensure that the brutish act that followed would not damage her. He leaned into her now, his cock pressing insistently into the hollow of her buttocks. She tried to relax, let her lower back sway to open up her pelvis. Slowly, the head of his cock began to prize her sphincter muscles apart. “Tell me, Katrina,” he said, his voice taut with sexual tension now. “Do you…understand why this act is so…fulfilling?” “Aah!” she gasped as his cockhead suddenly penetrated the muscular ring. “I…think I…do,” she answered, panting rapidly now to help her bear the stretching of her muscles as he eased slowly deeper into her. “The first time…at Rylands…I didn’t. Ngh! Ooh! Now, I…understand. That is… Oooooohh! Is why I asked you to…take me like…this.” In fact, it was only a few hours earlier that she had suddenly understood. It was as if a great truth had been revealed to her as part of some arcane initiation ceremony. But it was Margot, not she, who had been the initiate. She visualized Margot again now, kneeling on all fours and pleasuring her with her mouth and tongue as Armand fucked her from behind with increasing vigor. It was the lovely black maid, Shona, who had dictated the moment, first for herself with James, then for Margot and Armand. The revelation had dawned on Kat incrementally, the process 225

Judith Devere

beginning when Shona guided Armand’s straining cock between Margot’s buttocks, and the light in his eyes metamorphosed from sheer lust to something more rapacious, acquisitive. But that alone would not have led to the complete comprehension that followed. It was Margot’s reaction that produced the final key to the enigma. As she felt the head of Armand’s cock against her rectum, her half-closed eyes had widened in sheer disbelief. To a woman such as Margot Vanderbruck, the doyen of New England society, a woman who before coming to this island had never even committed adultery, the prospect of submitting to the act of sodomy must have been unthinkable. But, consumed by lust and passion, and perhaps encouraged by her husband’s tacit endorsement, Margot had made an instinctive and momentous decision…and acquiesced. Kat had seen the momentary yet agonizing debate in the other woman’s eyes, culminating with her decision to give herself to Armand in the most ignominious way. And as Armand took Margot, penetrating and distending her in a manner she could never have imagined possible, Kat had understood. For a “respectable” woman, willing participation in such an act was the ultimate in submission and degradation; it made her, for the duration of the act, and in some ways, perhaps, forever, his chattel. In truth, she forfeited a small part of her soul, and was thus bound to him. For him, the act was one of possession, of power; even, perhaps, an acceptance of worship by the woman. For them both, it could be — but was not always — an exquisite celebration of erotic fulfillment and raw animal passion. It could also be, for the woman at least, an experience of both physical and emotional anguish. All of these things, in varying degrees, permeated Kat’s senses now, and a soft cry escaped her lips as Armand seemed to penetrate her to the very core of her being. A final thrust buried the entire length of his cock inside her, and the cry turned to a 226

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

scream that echoed across the mountainside. There was some pain, but it was an exquisite, sacrificial pain that spawned an intense thrill of arousal also. As he withdrew, she gulped air into her lungs, knowing that it would be forced out again all too soon when he pushed back into her. Slowly, steadily, the measure of his long, regular strokes accelerated, becoming more urgent. As this happened, the pain and discomfort faded and were replaced by a growing warmth of sensual pleasure. Soon, it felt as if she and Armand shared the same body, that his cock was a part of her. Her breasts swayed beneath her as each thrust of his hips pushed her against the balustrade. Suddenly his pace quickened noticeably, and she felt the telltale swelling of his girth. Mentally, she let go of all self control, allowed her senses free rein as the flush of searing hot fluid flooded from him into her, triggering an orgasm of ferocious magnitude. **** For what remained of the dark hours, Kat spent much of the time in Armand’s embrace, sometimes sleeping, sometimes talking; asking and answering questions that led to a deeper understanding of her relationship with him and her role in his world. Just before the dawn, he made love to her with a tenderness that underscored the savagery of the manner in which he had taken her earlier. This time he was selfless in the extreme, denying himself release while taking her through orgasm after delirious orgasm with a bewildering array of techniques. When at last she fell back on the bed exhausted, he slipped away, ostensibly to the bathroom. But when she awoke in response to the bright insistence of mid-morning sunlight streaming through the open French windows, he was gone.

227

Judith Devere

Chapter Eleven

A

lthough reluctant at first to leave the bed in which she had shared such tender passion with Armand, Kat eventually rose, took a lukewarm shower and then ordered a late breakfast of toast, hot black coffee and fruit in her room. As she waited, she sat in one of several white wicker armchairs on the balcony, allowing the sun complete access to her naked body. Closing her eyes, she reviewed the events of the previous evening and the earlier hours of that morning. Lost in erotic reverie, she was surprised to find that, when she rose to answer the doorbell, her inner thighs were moist. It seemed that arousal came so much easier to her since she had been at Chateau Levequ than in her former existence, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Whether or not the decision was a conscious one, Kat neglected to slip on a robe when she answered the door to admit her maid. As the door swung open, Ingrid, holding a tray set with Kat’s breakfast, seemed taken aback by Kat’s nudity. “Good morning, Ingrid,” Kat said, breezily. “Come in. I’ll have my breakfast on the balcony, please.” For a moment Ingrid responded only by scanning Kat from head to toe. It was a brief and perhaps understandably reflexive reaction, and might not even have been noticeable had the maid’s eyes not lingered here and there for just a fraction of a second longer than seemed appropriate under the 228

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

circumstances. Kat’s raising her eyebrows quizzically seemed to break the momentary spell. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss,” Ingrid answered in her guttural, yet strangely alluring German accent. “Yes, of course.” Kat watched the maid with interest as she followed her to the balcony, the other woman’s hips swaying with feminine fluidity. Setting the breakfast tray down on the coffee table by the wicker armchair in which Kat had been sitting, Ingrid turned and was startled to find Kat standing close behind her. “Miss?” “Yes, Ingrid?” The obvious effect her nudity had on the maid provided a morsel of pleasure for Kat. She already knew from their past exchanges that Ingrid was attracted to her, but was afraid to respond to her feelings because Kat had then been out of bounds. No longer the case, of course, but did Ingrid know that? “Um…” Ingrid looked uneasy. Sudden electric tension flared between the two women. “Yes, Ingrid?” Kat said again, her smile gone now, replaced by a searching gaze that penetrated the maid’s uncertain eyes. “I… Will there be anything…else, Miss?” Kat stepped around Ingrid, resuming her seat in the wicker armchair. “Yes, Ingrid, there will. Stand over there, with your back to the balustrade.” A puzzled frown furrowed Ingrid’s brow as she walked over to the edge of the balcony, next to one of the grinning gargoyles that had witnessed Kat’s debasement earlier that morning. “Miss?” Kat could hardly believe what was happening to her. The past eighteen hours or so had been saturated with wildly diverse and intense sexual activity, during which she had experienced literally countless orgasms, and yet already, only five or six hours after Armand had withdrawn from her sex for the last time, her libido 229

Judith Devere

was ablaze again. Could Ming’s aphrodisiac potions possibly remain active in one’s body for so long? The thought glimmered only briefly in Kat’s mind before she summarily dismissed it. After all, the axiom here at Chateau Levequ — for the privileged elite, at least — was to take one’s pleasure as and when one wished. And Kat was now, in some respects, a member of that elite. She reached for her coffee, sipped at it, enjoying its dark, strong flavor as she regarded the maid with a combination of amusement and arousal. Replacing the cup in its saucer, she took a piece of toast from the plate on the coffee table, held it to her mouth. Ingrid’s eyes widened as Kat raised her left leg, bending it at the knee to hook it over the arm of her chair. In this posture, her thighs apart, Kat’s sex lay open to Ingrid’s stunned gaze like a flower in the sun. Kat took a bite of the toast, chewed slowly. “Do you like what you see, Ingrid?” The maid blushed, a reaction that Kat found strangely charming; was this what others found so appealing in her also? “I… You know I do, Miss. I have told you so before.” Kat took another bite of toast. “Ah, yes. So you have. And yet you weren’t willing to risk punishment to make love with me.” “I told you, Miss. I was frightened. I saw what they did to Camille after Ming caught you in bed with her.” Kat remembered, and for what might easily have been the thousandth time since that evening, the images surfaced in her mind, as vivid now as then. Camille naked, straddling the wooden horse, her arms bound to the beam above her head. Displayed thus for the entertainment of Madam SIN’s dinner guests in the gardens down by the lake, she had squirmed and moaned in torment throughout the meal to the strains of Vivaldi. Alternating between pain and arousal, she had repeatedly risen on tiptoe, only to settle back onto the wooden beam between her thighs 230

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

when her muscles ached beyond endurance. Every few minutes her own bodyweight, betraying her, had forced her sex down upon the rounded beam. Agony versus ecstasy. A trickle of glistening fluid exuded from Kat’s labia at the recollection. “So you don’t think I am worth a little suffering for, Ingrid?” she asked. The maid swallowed hard. “No! I mean, yes. I’m…confused.” Kat popped the last of the toast into her mouth, licking the fingers of the hand that had held it. At the same time, she lowered the other hand to her sex, and with studied deliberation spread her labia apart with splayed fingers. “Ingrid, do you think I have a beautiful cunt?” Ingrid stared, her lips parting slightly. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Very beautiful, Miss.” “I’ve been told that before. I wondered what you thought. Do you have a beautiful cunt, Ingrid?” Clearly embarrassed, the maid lowered her eyes. “Look at me while I’m speaking to you, girl,” Kat snapped. Startled at her uncharacteristically severe tone, Ingrid hurriedly met Kat’s gaze with her own again. “And address me as Mistress until I tell you otherwise.” “Mistress?” Confusion clouded the other woman’s eyes. “You don’t know? No one has told you yet?” “Told me?” “I am no longer just a privileged slave, with no rights or will of my own. Madam SIN has invested me with her authority on behalf of Armand Levequ. I may take whomever I wish, and do with them what I will. Moreover, I am to assume the mantle of…dominatrix.” The revelation seemed to alarm Ingrid. “Dominatrix? You mean like…Ming?” “Yes, Ingrid. Like Ming. I believe I already possess some of 231

Judith Devere

the necessary skills, and I have become very familiar through first hand experience with many effective…techniques. Nevertheless, practice makes perfect, don’t they say?” Kat smiled meaningfully at the now somewhat flustered maid. “I’m surprised no one told you about this. You are my personal maid, after all.” “Well, Camille did tell me something. Not about you becoming a…dominatrix, though. She said that your status here had changed, that you were now permitted to indulge in sexual activity with those beneath you in the…what was the word she used…the hierarchy. Yes, that was it, the hierarchy. But…” “But?” Ingrid seemed uncomfortable with the topic. “Well…I didn’t really believe her.” “Oh? Why not?” Kat, asked, slowly caressing and probing her sex as she spoke. The effect was not lost on Ingrid, whose generous breasts were rising and falling with increasing rapidity as she looked down at Kat. “I thought… I mean, knowing that you and she were…that you had been…” “Lovers?” Kat prompted, then uttered a soft, aspirated cry as a willfully stray fingertip fluttered across her clitoris. Ingrid nodded. “She knew I was attracted to you…that I desired you…and I thought she was trying to trick me. I thought she might have been trying to get you into trouble by leading me to believe that it was all right for me…for us to… I mean I thought she was setting a trap so that Ming would catch us, as she did you and Camille. For revenge, I mean.” Ironic, thought Kat, that Ingrid should believe Camille wanted revenge on her for the ordeal she had suffered on the wooden horse, when in fact it was Camille who had betrayed Kat. But there was no need to disabuse the maid of that mistaken belief now; she would learn the truth soon enough, perhaps even witness the settling of the score. 232

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Well, I can assure you that Camille was telling the truth,” Kat continued, her fingers continuing their wanton exploration of her sex as she spoke. “But the extent of well beyond sexual my…mmmmm…authority…goes indulgence, as you call it. As far as those beneath me in…the hierarchy…are concerned, I wield absolute power. And that fact has an immediate…aaah…” Kat shuddered as her fingernails scraped lightly over her clitoris. “…an immediate…um…implication for you…my dear.” As Kat had been speaking, Ingrid’s gaze had remained steadfastly occupied with her shameless self-stimulation. Still staring at Kat’s audacious fingers, she ran a tongue moistly over her lips now as she answered. “Implication? I…don’t understand, Miss.” “Mistress!” “I’m sorry…yes…Mistress.” “I have decided that you should be punished for your rebuff when I wanted us to make love.” Ingrid’s expression turned to one of panic at this. “Punished, Mistress? But why would…?” Kat cut her short. “You are my personal maid, as Camille was before you. As such you owe me total loyalty and obedience. By refusing me, you were disloyal, and the fact that your actions were dictated by fear is no excuse. It is for your disloyalty that I am going to punish you.” Ingrid squirmed on the spot. “But…” “And beware; any protest or argument will only raise the level of severity of your punishment. Do you understand?” Ingrid bit her lower lip. “Yes…Mistress.” “Now. Answer my question.” For a moment, the maid seemed lost; then recollection came. “Oh. You mean my…” “Yes, dear, your cunt. Is it beautiful?” 233

Judith Devere

I don’t…know…Mistress.” “Then I shall be the judge. Take off your clothes.” “Yes, Mistress.” Ingrid reached behind her back to untie her apron string, then lowered her head to slip off the apron over her head. Letting it drop to the floor, she began unfastening the buttons of her uniform dress. Trimmed with a white lace collar and sleeves, the dress was demure, almost austere in appearance; what lay beneath could not have contrasted more dramatically. As the front of the dress fell open, Ingrid’s full breasts appeared, clad in a white lace camisole which, as became evident when she pushed the dress down over her hips, matched the French knickers she wore. As she straightened up, the dress fell around her ankles. Now that Ingrid was clad only in her underwear and a pair of self-supporting stockings, Kat saw that the German maid’s body was every bit as magnificent as she had imagined. This became even more evident when, on Kat’s instruction, she removed first the camisole and then the French knickers. She was tall, longlegged and lissome, and although more than shapely enough to grace the centerfold pages of any glamour magazine, might equally have been athlete — had it not been for her ample breasts, which would certainly have been an impediment in that respect. But although undeniably large, these were beautifully contoured, tapering to slightly upturned prominent pink nipples, and firm enough to maintain their shape in defiance of gravity. She was evenly tanned, her thighs and buttocks toned, Kat guessed, from regular workout. Her belly, ever so slightly rounded, gave way to a smooth, hairless mons. Standing there nude in the sunlight with her deep blue eyes and the single braid of flaxen hair draped over one shoulder, she looked exquisite. “Mmm,” Kat murmured appreciatively. “You have a delicious body, Ingrid, and I’m really going to enjoy it. But first…” Withdrawing her fingers from her sex, she rose from her chair. 234

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.” When she returned a few minutes later, Kat held a leather belt in her hand. “I hadn’t anticipated that I would have the pleasure of punishing you this morning, or I would have prepared. As it is, we’ll have to improvise.” Seeing the belt in Kat’s hand, Ingrid instinctively folded her arms across her body. “Miss… I mean, Mistress, you’re not going to…use that on me?” Kat smiled, grimly. “Yes, Ingrid, I am. But don’t worry, it’s a Gucci, so at least you’ll have designer stripes.” A look of real fear flared in Ingrid’s eyes now, as she saw that Kat was serious. “Please don’t, Mistress. Please don’t whip me. I didn’t want to…rebuff you. I wanted to make love with you, really I did. I was just scared of what Ming might do if she found out. And besides, you said you wouldn’t hold it against me, don’t you remember?” “I lied,” Kay answered flatly, conscious that she was deriving profound pleasure from the maid’s discomfiture. “Oh, please spare me this, Mistress. I’ll never be disloyal again, I swear I won’t.” Ignoring her plea, Kat pointed to one of the vacant wicker armchairs. “There. Face the chair, bend over and grip the arms.” Slowly, reluctantly, Ingrid approached the armchair. Slowly, reluctantly, and glancing aside at Kat in the vain hope of a reprieve, she faced the chair and bent from the waist to grip each arm. In this position her breasts hung beneath her like ripe fruit. Kat slipped a foot between her ankles, lightly kicking each in turn. “Spread them.” Obediently, Ingrid placed her feet further apart, Kat watching intently as the action parted the other woman’s buttocks and opened up the pink gash of her sex. 235

Judith Devere

“Wider.” When Ingrid had complied, Kat knelt behind the maid, lowered herself to all fours and moved forward between her widespread thighs. Although trembling with trepidation, Ingrid could not disguise her arousal. Her labia, pendulous lobes of glistening pink flesh, had parted to allow her musky feminine essence to drift into Kat’s flared nostrils. Kat moved closer. Ingrid flinched, sighed deeply as she felt Kat’s breath, warm upon her sex. “Oh, yes,” Kat whispered. “You do have a beautiful cunt, Ingrid. I want to eat you, darling.” “Aaaahh.” Ingrid’s muscles tensed, her back arching as Kat’s tongue slid into her vulva. Dizzy with the scent and taste of the exquisite young German woman, Kat licked, sucked, gently bit on Ingrid’s intimate flesh. In response, Ingrid moaned, gasped and emitted little cries of supplication. Soon, however, she began to whimper as Kat repeatedly flicked at her inflamed clitoris with the tip of an insistent tongue. With impeccable timing, Kat withdrew just seconds before Ingrid reached the point of no return. Denied the orgasm she had been straining toward, Ingrid groaned as if she were in pain. Kat rose to her feet, wiped the glistening veneer of Ingrid’s juices from her face. Stepping back a pace, she looked down at the luckless maid, admiring the contours of her body; the way her narrow waist flared to generous yet elegant hips, which in turn gave rise to the perfect twin globes of her buttocks, the dark mysterious hollow between, and the lush divide of her sex. As she looked, Kat felt a pang of desire and arousal that was painful in its intensity. It seemed apt, therefore, that her pain should be transferred to the sweet young German maid who posed in readiness before her. Wrapping the buckle end of the Gucci belt around the palm and knuckles of her right hand, Kat continued 236

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

to regard Ingrid with a glazed expression in her eyes. She spoke softly. “Ingrid, listen to me. I am going to hurt you now. This will be for my own personal satisfaction, but as my…” she paused, mentally abandoning the term maid for one which now seemed more fitting. “…slave, you should savor the pain I bestow on you, appreciate its deep significance. From now on, you must learn to take pleasure from my pleasure, even though that may come from pain and humiliation. Do you understand?” “Mistress…I…” Ingrid was unable to finish the sentence. Her knuckles were white from the exertion of her terrified grip on the arms of the chair, her limbs and body trembling. Kat raised her right arm, flicking the belt so that it snaked out to land lightly along the other woman’s lower back and buttocks. Ingrid flinched and gasped, then took a long deep breath. “Mistress,” she wailed, tremulously. “Please don’t…hurt me too much.” “Shush, dear,” Kat cooed. “Don’t be a baby. I have to hurt you; otherwise what would be the point? And I want you to think of something while I whip you — this is the first of many ordeals you will have to undergo, and some will be much worse than what you are about to experience now. That is how we shall grow together in our respective roles. But don’t try to understand that now; understanding will come to you in the course of time, as it has to me.” Ingrid shuddered as Kat drew back the belt, the cool leather slithering across her back and buttocks. “Are you ready, my dear?” Tears of anticipation had already begun to well in the maid’s eyes. She sniffed. “Answer me, Ingrid!” Several seconds passed before Ingrid forced her hushed reply between clenched teeth. “Ye…Yes…Mistress.” Without warning, the belt cracked across the maid’s buttocks, 237

Judith Devere

the powerful blow delivered by Kat before the other woman’s reply had yet died on her lips. “Ooowww!” the maid yelped, wriggling her bottom in response to the sudden kiss of fire. Kat merely watched, fascinated, as a pink welt appeared almost instantaneously across the maid’s buttocks. Then, with contrasting gentleness, she flicked the belt again so that it lay harmlessly across Ingrid’s hips. But however gently it seemed to caress her flesh now, the first vicious stroke had been enough to instill in Ingrid a deep aversion to the belt. Her back and thigh muscles tensed in response to its touch. Drawing back her arm, Kat brought the belt back down across the maid’s bottom again, this time much harder. Ingrid squealed, but before she had time to recover, Kat laid another stroke across her tender flesh. Warming to her task, Kat delivered stroke after stroke, creating a latticework of glowing roseate wheals upon Ingrid’s defenseless buttocks and upper thighs. As each lash of the belt bit into her flesh, the wretched maid screamed and wriggled impotently, repeatedly begging Kat to stop. And when at last Kat did stop, Ingrid hung her head low, sobbing and panting heavily. Her bottom glowed, and, Kat knew from experience, would be burning, not just on the surface, but with an inner heat that seemed to penetrate her womb. For a long moment Kat simply observed the results of her labors. Then she reached out to place her hand on the maid’s sex. “Aaaaaah!” Ingrid cried, throwing back her head at her Mistress’s unexpectedly intimate caress. Wide eyed and breathless, she trembled, her entire body stiffening like a pointer with the scent of game in its nostrils. Then, as Kat riffled her fingers through the slippery contours of Ingrid’s cleft, the maid squirmed and groaned. Kat smiled with satisfaction. “As I expected, the kiss of the whip has lit your inner fire, Ingrid. Ironic, isn’t it, how pain and 238

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

humiliation can be such powerful aphrodisiacs?” Ingrid shook her head, the movement causing her breasts to sway beneath her. “Please, Mistress, no more. I can’t bear it.” “Oh, I think a few more, my dear. I counted a dozen strokes; let’s make it a round twenty.” “Nooooooo!” Ingrid implored, then screamed, “Aaaaaaaah”, as Kat struck out with the belt again. This time, Kat delivered the lashes with discrete deliberation, not only to her victim’s now glowing bottom, but deftly curling the belt around and under Ingrid’s body to lick at her breasts and sex also, the latter evoking gasps of pain and a distraught little display of dancing on the spot from the distressed maid. As she administered the final stroke of the belt, Kat realized with surprise that Ingrid had actually been counting, because at this point she fell to her knees, sobbing loudly. “Oh, Mistress,” she cried, “you hurt me very much.” Kat lowered herself to one knee beside the other woman. “I know I did, dear,” she said, her tone tender, soothing now. “But you should be happy, because it gave me pleasure. Besides, your punishment may have been painful and humiliating, but it also aroused you, didn’t it?” Instead of turning to meet Kat’s gaze, Ingrid looked down at the floor, her shoulders still heaving as she sobbed. “Answer me, Ingrid. Truthfully. And look at me.” Ingrid turned to look at Kat, who recognized chagrin and confusion in the blue depths of her tear-bright eyes. “I…,” she began, then seemed to run out of words. Looking at her intently, Kat reached out to brush tears from the maid’s cheek. “Just be honest, Ingrid,” she said, softly. “Tell me. I’ve been through this myself, remember.” Ingrid nodded slowly. “Yes, Mistress.” “Call me Kat now. Your punishment is over.” “Kat.” 239

Judith Devere

“That’s right,” Kat said, slipping an arm around the maid’s shoulders. “Now tell me, Ingrid, what was it like? Tell me how you felt…in detail.” “Well,” Ingrid murmured, softly, as if she were in the confessional box and frightened that someone might overhear. “The first thing — when you made me undress and…pose like that…displaying my…” “Cunt?” Kat prompted. “Say it for me, Ingrid; it’s such a powerfully erotic word, don’t you think?” Ingrid bit her lip momentarily, as if reluctant to give voice to the word, then, perhaps recognizing the shadow of a frown on Kat’s brow, whispered, “Yes, my…cunt.” Kat smiled at the rosy flush that bloomed on Ingrid’s cheeks at her utterance of the word. She was slowly beginning to understand why others were so endeared by her own propensity to blush so readily. “Go on, dear.” “I felt so ashamed at being made to behave like some cheap…whore.” “But there was more, wasn’t there? As well as the shame?” Lowering her eyes, Ingrid nodded, slowly. “Tell me.” “I felt very….sexually aroused; excited. And when you touched me, when you put your tongue…” Ingrid quivered as she briefly relived the moment. “Well, I thought I was going to pass out from sheer pleasure.” “And the whipping?” “It hurt — a lot. At first, I just wanted to run away, to escape the pain you were inflicting on me. I resented that you took pleasure in my anguish. In fact, for a brief moment I think I hated you.” “And then?’ “And then? It was very curious. Although the pain remained, 240

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

got worse as you continued whipping me, I became very aroused again. I sensed that my degradation and suffering was a powerful source of sensual arousal for you, and I began to feel excited by that knowledge, proud even that you found my body and what you were doing to it so…pleasurable. The pain didn’t go away of course, but — and this is very odd — on a deep, spiritual level, I actually began to enjoy it. I desperately wanted it to stop, and yet I didn’t. Doesn’t that sound stupid?” Kat smiled. “Ah, my sweet, no, not at all. It’s what I wanted to hear.” Cupping the maid’s chin, she leaned into her, kissed her full and long on the mouth. When at last she withdrew her lips from Ingrid’s, she took her hand and rose from the floor. “Come.” Rising with her, Ingrid asked, “Where are we going?” “To heaven.” **** It was past noon before Kat allowed Ingrid to leave her suite, physically and emotionally spent. From the balcony, she had taken the maid to her bed where, on its surface, she minutely examined every welt she had inflicted on the other woman’s flesh. Kissing every inch of each, she moved from one raised ridge of injured flesh to the next, in between brushing the maid’s lips softly with her own and murmuring words of tenderness and affection in her ear. And where the evidence of Ingrid’s flogging lay upon the more intimate quarters of her anatomy, Kat was particularly assiduous in her devotions. The nipples, for example, swollen and crimson for their ordeal, were gently sucked in turn, causing Ingrid to moan as she ran her fingers through Kat’s hair. And inching along the cruel stripes she had laid upon the especially sensitive flesh of Ingrid’s loins, Kat allowed her tongue to slip between her lips to lick and delve and 241

Judith Devere

probe and taste, driving the maid to the first of what were to be many exquisite orgasms. And only when Ingrid had sworn a dozen times or more that she forgave her Mistress her capricious cruelty did Kat surrender herself to the carnal demands of her own body. The two women had writhed in each other’s embrace, celebrating over and again the ecstatic mutual ritual of the soixante-neuf as only two women can. When at last Ingrid had gone, Kat fell into a deep sleep, from which she did not emerge until dusk. The libidinous ravages to which her body had been subjected the previous night and into the present day had left her totally exhausted. After leaving her bed and showering for the second time that day, she sat at her writing desk and brought her journal up to date, describing in minute detail the lurid events that had taken place since her last entry. She wrote without a break, and when she had finished was surprised to see from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was already nearly eight fifteen, which meant that, for whatever reason, Madam SIN did not require her presence at dinner. For this, she was grateful; after such prolonged and intense interaction with other people, she longed for an interlude of solitude. Still naked, as she had been all day, she rose from her chair and walked to the wardrobe. Slipping on a simple cotton peasant dress and sandals, she picked up her journal and made for the door to her suite. Now that she had updated the journal, she was obligated to submit it for inspection, and since Madam SIN would probably be at dinner with her guests now, she decided to drop it off at her quarters in her absence. As she had expected, Madam SIN’s quarters in the tower were empty. Yet even in the absence of other people there existed an almost tangible presence in the place, a sort of charged atmosphere as if the lascivious events that had been played out here over the years lived on in some spectral continuum. Kat 242

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

placed her journal on the vast, leather topped antique desk — upon which she had only recently been so thoroughly ravished by Jacob’s gargantuan manhood — then hurried from the room before the memories it held could conspire to kindle a spark of arousal in her. She descended the staircase to the big front doorway of the chateau, thinking that a quiet walk through the grounds would be a good way to purge her spirit before she retired for the night.

243

Judith Devere

Chapter Twelve

S

till disinclined to seek out company, Kat opted for an early breakfast the next morning but was surprised to find Armand and Margot Vanderbruck already at the table on the dining room balcony. “Good morning, Kat,” Armand said when he saw her. “Yes, good morning,” Margot echoed, cheerfully. “It looks like yet another beautiful day on L’Île des Désirs.” “Good morning,” Kat answered, glancing up at the azure, cloud-free sky. “Yes, this place is blessed by fine weather — I never cease to be amazed at the extent of Armand’s influence.” Armand and Margot laughed. Kat wasn’t sure why, but she had expected her next meeting with Margot to be colored by at least some measure of mutual embarrassment after the gross debauchery of their last encounter, but there was no trace of self-consciousness in the other woman’s smile, which was relaxed and open. She wondered if Madam SIN had omitted inviting Kat to dinner the previous evening in order to afford Margot — and perhaps James for that matter — a sort of cooling-off period through her absence. If so, it seemed to have worked. “Join us, Kat,” Armand said, and when she had taken her place next to Margot, added, “I’m going to do something unusual with Margot today.” 244

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat’s reaction was spontaneously mischievous. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Standing up in a hammock.” Armand and Margot both laughed at the old Mae West quip, but just for a second Kat thought she saw the hint of a blush color the other woman’s cheeks. “Oh, I think we can do much better than that when the time comes round again,” Armand said, glancing briefly at Margot who did actually blush this time. “No, what I have in mind is a bird’s eye look at the island. As you said, it’s a beautiful day; perfect for a sightseeing trip.” “A bird’s eye view? I don’t understand.” Armand waited until the female servant who had arrived at the table had taken Kate’s breakfast order, then said, “I have a helicopter on the island, although I rarely use it. It’s here mainly for emergencies. As you know, Chateau Levequ belongs to a bygone age and I try to maintain as much as possible the atmosphere and appearance of that era throughout the island. Having a helicopter flying around all the time wouldn’t exactly contribute to that objective, but there are exceptions to every rule, and what is the point of being Armand Levequ if I can’t break the odd rule myself from time to time?” “He’s going to break the rule as a special favor to me,” Margot said. “I happened to say that I’d love to see what the island looks like from the air, and he offered to show me. I had no idea there was a helicopter here.” “Anyway,” Armand continued, “I’m taking Margot up around eleven. Would you like to come with us?” “Oh, I’d love to,” Kat said, excited at the prospect. It was an opportunity not to be missed. Like Margot, she too had thought about what the Island of Desires looked like from the air. Unlike Margot, though, she had explored various parts of the island, and was curious to see where she had been from another perspective. 245

Judith Devere

“Good. I think you’ll enjoy it.” When she had finished her breakfast one of the servants informed Kat that Madam SIN wanted to see her. Leaving Armand and Margot chatting over coffee, she excused herself and made her way to Christina’s suite in the tower. She rang the bell, paused and then pushed open the big oak door. “Ah, Kat, good morning. Come in.” As Kat entered the sun drenched room, Madam SIN rose from behind her desk. Although now well into encroaching middle age, the Mistress of Chateau Levequ was blessed with regal beauty and a sensual body that both defied her maturity. Moreover, she possessed a certain indefinable charisma that seemed, without exception, to captivate both the men and women of her acquaintance. This morning she wore a tabard over matching pants in pale green that complemented perfectly the cinnamon hue of her skin and her lustrous tawny hair. She was smiling unreservedly, and when Christina SIN smiled thus, it was always to devastating effect. The irresistible misgivings Kat had harbored at being summoned here so early in the morning evaporated in an instant. “Good morning, Christina. You wanted to see me?” “Yes, my dear. Why don’t we go outdoors; it’s such a lovely day and it’s still pleasantly cool yet.” Madam SIN led the way onto the balcony. She and Kat sat slightly apart in adjacent armchairs, angled so that they faced each other while at the same time allowing a spectacular view of the mountainside descending to the bay far below. Only now did Kat notice that Madam SIN was holding her journal. “This is very interesting, Kat,” she said, stroking the handtooled leather front cover of the book with her fingertips as if she were able to divine its content by touch alone. “I read your latest entries last night and again this morning. They tend to reinforce my belief that you are potentially the quintessential switch. 246

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Clearly, you have come to embrace the submissive side of your nature — indeed, I have to say that in that respect you represent one of the most desirable…possessions…I have ever encountered.” Kat felt herself blush. Seeing this, Madam SIN said, “What is it, my dear? I wouldn’t have thought that you would be embarrassed by a mere compliment.” Kat shook her head. “No, Christina, it isn’t that.” “Then what?” “It was the…nature of the compliment. Knowing your exacting standards, to receive such praise from you pleases me more than you can imagine. But, for just an instant, a part of my former self reacted to the fact that I was being complimented for evolving into a masochistic…whore, and a possession at that. If that possibility had been suggested to me before I embarked on my present life here at Chateau Levequ, I would have dismissed it as lunacy.” “And yet, for all the negative connotations you previously harbored for those terms, they now actually arouse and excite you. Am I right?” “Indeed you are, Christina…hence my embarrassment. The younger Katrina Mandell judging the woman I have become — Kat, the depraved sexual submissive.” “I must say, Kat, that sometimes when I listen to you speak about the life, I feel that you have an innate rather than just learned appreciation of much, if not all, it entails. You may not have come to terms with it fully yet, but as I have observed on previous occasions, I really do think that you may have found your destiny in Armand Levequ.” “I suspect so too. The feeling grows stronger with each passing day here.” “So…let us talk a little about the dominant side of your identity. You certainly gave a good account of yourself with that 247

Judith Devere

servant, Brenda. I was impressed by the way you dealt with her, both on a psychological level and in her physical punishment. And judging from your journal entry, she proved a responsive lover, also — despite the sound caning you gave her.” “Yes, I found the entire experience intensely gratifying. Particularly since I got to discipline her immediately after you had punished me.” Madam SIN smiled. “My intent exactly. A submissive experience followed by a dominant opportunity. It was a perfect test of your disposition to switch.” “Yes, I see that now. But…” Kat paused, not quite sure how to phrase the question in her mind. “Yes?” “Well, my ability — or otherwise — to…switch, seems to be a matter of some importance to you. But I don’t understand why. Forgive me, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful; I’m just puzzled.” “It’s actually very simple, Kat. I have been in the life a good many years, during which I have known many skilled and practiced dominatrices — Mistresses, that is. The very best were switches, able to appreciate and derive sexual arousal and fulfillment from the infinite spectrum of emotional, psychological and physical demands to which they might, themselves, be subjected in a submissive role. I believe it is that ability, together with their actual submissive experience, that enables such women to excel in the role of the Mistress. And since you are presently being assessed as to your own potential in that regard, the fact that you have already proven an extraordinarily responsive submissive is of particular relevance. Do you understand now?” “I… Yes, I…think so.” Actually, although she understood the rationale of what Madam SIN had explained to her, she was still perplexed in one 248

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

respect. The question that remained, that still puzzled her, was why they — Armand, Madam SIN and the others in authority at Chateau Levequ — wanted her to develop as a dominatrix at all. But she did not press the point. In due course, no doubt, all would be revealed. Madam SIN opened Kat’s journal, began thumbing through the pages. “I’m glad I decided on having you maintain this journal, Kat. Since it records details of all of your sensual experiences — not just those I have had the opportunity to witness — as well as your thoughts and feelings concerning those experiences, it affords me an excellent means of monitoring your progress. And you have a talent for descriptive writing. When I read your account of how you disciplined your maid, Ingrid, for example… Ah, yes. Here it is.” Opening the journal fully, she pressed the pages flat with her fingers. For more than a minute, she scanned the page silently, her lips soundlessly mouthing Kat’s written text. At last, she loosed a small sigh. “My goodness, yes. Even reading it again now I find your prose quite arousing. Perhaps, one day you will write a book about your experiences. I’m sure it would be a best seller.” Kat smiled as she considered the prospect. “Thank you, Christina. Perhaps I will. I enjoy writing. I’ve written a few short stories, and if I hadn’t decided on an acting career I might well have tried my hand at a novel.” “Well, now. That brings me rather neatly to the reason I asked to see you this morning. The Vanderbrucks are to leave the island at the end of this week, and I have decided to give you an opportunity to demonstrate your creative skills.” “My…creative skills?” “Yes. As you know, I like to provide a little evening entertainment for our guests sometimes.” Having been part of that entertainment on more than a few occasions, Kat was very familiar with the subject. Guests at 249

Judith Devere

Chateau Levequ invariably came not only to enjoy its beautiful Caribbean location and the fine food and wine provided by their host — usually in absentia — but also, and more specifically, to take advantage of the seemingly boundless opportunities available there to satisfy appetites of a more carnal nature. And the resources available to Madam SIN and her entourage were such that none of Armand’s guests had ever left the island dissatisfied or disappointed. Usually, guests were treated to ‘bespoke’ experiences, scenarios designed to cater for their specific needs or desires, but in addition they were occasionally provided with more passive entertainment, either during dinner or immediately afterwards in the theatre. The latter location was the venue for Madam SIN’s ‘playlets’, in which highly erotic and graphic sketches were acted out on stage for the sensual pleasure and titillation of her guests. Entertainment during dinner was much less structured, usually taking the form of some sort of sexual and/or sadomasochistic encounter, which might be planned or, as in the instance instigated by Kat two nights earlier, entirely impromptu. Madam SIN continued, “I want you to devise and produce the entertainment for the Vanderbrucks’ last evening here. I will leave the theme and content entirely to you, but I would like to see something original and fiercely arousing; something special. You are familiar enough by now with both Margot and James to know what sort of thing would appeal to them. Of course, you may seek assistance from Vladimir, Ming and Sharon, but the concept must be your own. You have a vivid imagination, Kat; here is an opportunity to give it free rein. Do you have any questions?” Kat had a thousand questions, but felt instinctively that attempting to address them now would lower her in Madam SIN’s esteem. She had been presented with a daunting and totally unexpected task, but felt that she should try to appear confident, 250

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

self-possessed — not easy when she felt as frightened as a virgin in a whorehouse…and where on earth did that analogy come from? she wondered. “Well, Kat?” “Um, no. No, I…thank you for having confidence in me, Christina.” “I have absolute confidence in you, Kat. I’m sure you will give the Vanderbrucks something to remember.” An ironic smile dimpled one corner of Madam SIN’s mouth, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she added, “Or rather, something else to remember — I think it extremely unlikely that they would forget their acquaintanceship with you as it is.” **** Kat stood alongside Margot Vanderbruck on the central lawn at the front of the chateau. Kat wore a halter top and shorts, Margot a silk shirt tied above the waist and a short wraparound skirt that showcased her long tanned legs to full effect. Both women were looking up, marking the progress of the Bell Jetranger as it descended steadily toward them, the rotor blades whisking the air around them into a vortex. When the helicopter touched down, Armand leaned sideways from the pilot’s seat and beckoned them toward him. Instinctively lowering their heads, the two women approached the helicopter and clambered in. Seconds later they were soaring skyward, the island dropping away from them below. As Armand had instructed them earlier, they put on the earphones provided, each with its own built-in microphone. “Well, what do you think?” Armand asked, turning the aircraft through three hundred and sixty degrees so that they got a panoramic view of the island as they ascended. “It’s beautiful,” Margot said. “Absolutely stunning.” 251

Judith Devere

“And the chateau looks magnificent from here,” Kat added. Armand half turned to look at the two women in the rear seats. “My own private paradise. I was very lucky to be able to acquire this island. Let me show you more of it.” Veering north, Armand followed the coastline, which Kat now saw was scored at intervals with sandy coves. To their right, the mountain peaks soared, volcanic pinnacles wreathed in cloud like feather boas. But the overriding impression of L’Île des Désirs from this height was one of luxuriant emerald greenery. The rainforest clad mountain slopes gave way nearer the shore to vast stands of swaying palm trees, and they in turn surrendered to the cerulean blue waters of the Caribbean. “Look,” Kat cried excitedly, grasping Margot’s arm with one hand while pointing with the other. “Halcyon Falls.” And so it was. Even from the air, the place was instantly recognizable, marked by the improbably aquamarine blue water of the pool in the clearing at the foot of the ravine. The stream that fed it tumbled a rocky course down the ravine, throwing up a fine mist that conspired with mid-morning sunlight to produce myriad miniature rainbows. But it wasn’t just the incredible beauty of the falls that spawned the thrill in Kat’s breast; it was also the flood of erotic nostalgia that accompanied her recognition of the place. For it was there, in that lush, tiny Eden, that she had experienced her first sexual encounter on the island, albeit in the vicarious role of voyeur as she observed Camille with her two lovers from a hidden vantage point. Later, though, the falls had become the venue for a more personal encounter with her former maid, when the two women shared sensual hours cavorting naked in the water, and reveling in idyllic lovemaking under the sun on the banks of the pool. “Oh what a pretty place!” Margot exclaimed. “Yes, isn’t it?” Kat replied, her thoughts still fondly lingering on the past. 252

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

It seemed to her that Armand was reading those thoughts, because he hovered the helicopter, almost stationary, for several minutes, then glanced back at her and asked, “Enough, Kat?” She smiled. “Yes. Thanks.” He nodded, and the aircraft dipped then moved forward again. Looking back, Kat watched until Halcyon Falls disappeared into the green folds of the mountainside behind them. Their journey took them around the northern tip of the island, where towering cliffs rose sheer from the sea, then south along the eastern coast, past Pelican Bay and the sparkling waters of the Lagoon. There, too, was the dark forest where Calvin, wearing nothing but a loincloth and the goat’s head mask, had tied Kat naked and outstretched on a rock, and raped her at the height of the rainstorm. Ambivalent emotions welled up inside her at the recollection. The sheer sexual enormity of that experience, primal, raw, compelling, inevitably aroused her, but she also harbored resentment and a desire for revenge on the black servant. That he had taken her in a variety ways on a later occasion was irrelevant; that had been in their respective roles in one of Madam SIN’s playlets. Her ravishment in the forest had been at knifepoint, and no matter how incredible her orgasm, it had been, or at least had begun as rape. “Ready for a little lunch, ladies? I brought us a picnic along and I have in mind a lovely spot to land.” Both women agreed eagerly, not so much because they were hungry, but because the concept appealed. They were about midway along the east coast now, flying parallel to the central range of mountains that formed the north/south spine of the island. Here also cliffs flanked the coast, though not so high as those in the north. Armand began to take the helicopter lower, toward what looked like a crater in the cliff top. The descent suddenly began to alarm Kat, for it seemed as if Armand was intent on taking the helicopter into the void. That Margot shared 253

Judith Devere

her concern became apparent when the other woman let out a cry of dismay. “Armand!” Armand turned, held a finger to his lips. “Shh. This is a bit tricky. I need to concentrate.” Margot gripped Kat’s hand and both women held their breath as the aircraft slowly descended into the gaping hole in the cliff top. Once inside, however, understanding and awe supplanted their anxiety. They had entered a huge cathedral-like cavern scoured out of the cliffs by aeons of natural erosion by the sea, which now lay beneath the helicopter lapping upon a strand of pristine white sand. Armand brought the aircraft to rest at one end of the small beach and they all got out. “Oh, my goodness,” Margot exclaimed as she took in her surroundings. “This is just incredible.” “Yes, it is,” Armand agreed with a self-satisfied smile. “Welcome to the Blue Grotto.” Despite the fact that the immense cavern was completely enclosed on the landward side, it was bright with sunlight, admitted both from the breach in the rock above through which they had descended, and from a series of low natural arches which gave access to the ocean. Shrubs and vines and flowering plants clung to the sheer walls of the cavern, and even a few small palms and shrubs had staked claims to a grassy bank that lay at the top of the beach. As its appellation suggested, those parts of the grotto not illuminated by direct sunlight glowed faintly with rippling blue light refracted from the water. The sea was as clear as any Kat had ever seen, and populated by shoals of multi-colored fish. She was enchanted by the place. “Armand, this island must be one of the most beautiful places on earth. It’s full of lovely surprises; a treasure chest of natural gems.” Margot, too, was in awe. “Yes, it’s truly amazing,” she said, 254

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

casting her eyes around the vast subterranean dome. “And Kat is right, the entire island is incredibly beautiful.” “I know,” Armand replied, hauling a big picnic hamper from the helicopter. “Unfortunately, though, I am able to visit only infrequently, which is why I need Christina here; in all respects, she has truly become Mistress of L’Île des Désirs.” Carrying the hamper up the beach, he set it down on the grassy sward beyond and began removing the contents while Kat and Margot walked along the water’s edge, marveling at the natural wonder that was the Blue Grotto. After about ten minutes, Armand called out. “Lunch is served, ladies.” **** Lunch turned out to be a deliciously leisurely affair involving oysters, lobster, caviar and truffles, with a variety of freshly baked breads and a selection of fresh fruit. A couple of bottles of lightly chilled grand cru Chablis complemented the food to perfection. They ate sitting in a triangle on a rug. When they had finished eating, Kat said, “I suppose it’s a bit late to ask, and probably irrelevant anyway, but was the wine…?” Armand shook his head. “No. Any effects you feel from the wine are entirely natural; Ming has no part of it.” “Ming?” Margot sounded puzzled. “The wine,” Kat said. “You didn’t know?” Armand explained. “We sometimes find it necessary…or preferable…to enhance the effects of the wine by the use of certain…additives.” “Additives?” “Yes. Aphrodisiacs, sedatives, substances that quell anxiety or help overcome inhibitions.” “Really?” Margot seemed shocked. 255

Judith Devere

“Oh, don’t worry, Margot, it doesn’t apply to guests — except on request or with their express agreement, that is. The practice is only employed in respect of those in my service who may, from time to time, need some…assistance in discharging their responsibilities to my or Christina’s satisfaction.” “And that includes Kat?” Margot asked, looking first at Armand then at Kat. “Sometimes. When we consider it appropriate.” For a moment, Kat thought that Margot was about to protest, but then she smiled conspiratorially and said, “Well, if that helped Kat perform during our experiences together, I’m all in favor.” Armand looked at Kat. “Kat needs less help in that respect as each day passes. She is a remarkable woman.” “I agree.” So saying, Margot leaned across to Kat and kissed her full on the mouth. Kat responded, parting her lips and meeting Margot’s tongue with her own. It was a long, voluptuous kiss. “Ah, delightful,” Armand observed, looking at the two women as he rose from the rug. “How about a swim?” When Margot at last broke the kiss and turned to look at Armand again, he was naked, his clothes in a pile on the rug. He stood a little over six-foot-two, with broad shoulders and long limbs, and carried no fat. Although not especially highly developed, his muscles were firm and well defined from regular practice at a variety of sports. All in all, he was well built and as near perfectly proportioned as any man might hope to be. Looking at him now, Kat recalled the exquisite sensation of being filled by the penis — also perfectly proportioned — that hung, innocently quiescent now, between his thighs, and wondered if Margot shared her thoughts. As Armand walked to water’s edge, Kat exchanged a glance with Margot, and both women rose from the rug and began 256

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

stripping off their clothes. They swam together for half an hour or more, exploring the bounds of the cavern with its various niches and passages; sometimes on the surface, sometimes below, where the sun cast their naked bodies in ethereal rippling blue light. At one point, Armand swam out under one of the arches into the open sea. Although Kat would have liked to join him, she curbed the adventurous urge and remained in the cavern with Margot who lacked the confidence to venture beyond its tranquil waters. When Armand returned he found the two women lying in shallow water at the edge of the beach, locked in a passionate embrace. Margot lay face up, her head and shoulders on the dry sand. Kat was on top of her, one thigh between both of Margot’s, her hips rotating rhythmically as she alternately kissed the other woman’s lips and nipples. Writhing together thus, each woman’s sex moved against other’s thigh in a slow, sensual, tango of mutual masturbation. The prospect was far from lost on Armand, whose penis blossomed from flaccid to fully erect in a matter of seconds. For a long moment he simply stood over them looking down, his cock pulsing to the quickening beat of his heart. At length, he bent to one knee in the water, drew Kat’s hair back to reveal her face. “Come,” he said, softly. Kat turned to look at him through eyes narrowed in arousal. She ran her tongue briefly over her lips as if to remind herself of the other woman’s taste, then inclined her head marginally to signify compliance. Armand walked up the beach to their picnic site on the grass among an arbor of low palms and frangipani shrubs where he lay on the rug, supporting his body on one elbow. Moments later, he watched as Kat followed, leading Margot by the hand to join him. Smiling, Margot took the hand he offered and sank to the rug in his arms. She responded eagerly to his kiss, easing back her right shoulder to allow him 257

Judith Devere

full access to the breast he sought to fondle, caress and gently squeeze. She moaned as he pinched the nipple between his finger and thumb. Kat knelt behind Margot, brushing her own breasts against the other woman’s back so that the nipples traced random invisible designs on the sensitive surface of her skin as she placed a succession of kisses upon her neck and across her shoulders. Still toying fondly with Margot’s breasts, Armand leaned back a little to observe as Kat slipped her arm around Margot’s hip to coax her thighs apart, a gesture that Margot readily acceded to. Armand’s eyes gleamed as Margot’s sex opened to his view, swallowed hard when Kat insinuated her fingertips between the outer and inner lips, parting them to display fully the glistening pink oyster of Margot’s vulva. Kat slowly explored the moist petals of Margot’s sex with audacious fingers, gently probing, stroking, pulling, teasing. In response, Margot arched her back, uttering little cries of pleasure. After many minutes of this sweet assault on her senses by Kat and Armand, Margot was close to orgasm, her breathing rapid, eyes half closed, her lips parted in sensual exultation. Seeing this, Kat withdrew her hand from Margot’s sex, leaned into her and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. Margot’s lips formed a guileful smile as she nodded agreement. Turning in Armand’s arms, Margot placed a hand on his chest, urging him down onto his back on the rug. Lying supine now, the dominant feature of Armand’s anatomical landscape — his arrogantly erect manhood — inclined at an angle to his upper body. Kat reached for it, Armand grimaced in almost painful pleasure as her fingers curled around its girth. Then she was on top of him, her thighs spanning his hips, his cockhead a gasp away from the opening to her vulva. Margot watched, seemingly mesmerized, as Kat slowly lowered herself onto him, 258

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

her labia parting to embrace his bulk. Slowly gyrating her hips, she squirmed and shivered with pleasure as she steadily impaled herself on the rigid pillar of flesh until her entire weight lay on him, his cock piercing her to the core. Armand exhaled a long coarse sigh, Kat taking this as her signal to begin her ritual of delight. She began by moving back and forth over Armand’s pubis, rising slightly in the saddle, as it were, with each forward thrust. He arched his back, pushing up his hips to meet her, all the time watching, entranced by the sight of his cock partially appearing then disappearing from view again as it sank back inside her. But he was unable to take advantage of this prospect for more than a few minutes, because then Margot swung her thigh over his head to straddle his face. Now pinned exquisitely to the ground by two beautiful women who were clearly intent on driving him and themselves to the ultimate level of sensual pleasure known to mankind, Armand surrendered to their uninhibited carnal attentions. As Margot’s sex descended toward his face, he inhaled deeply, savoring her exotic musk essence. He met the swollen lobes of her labia with his tongue, insinuating it between them to taste her inner depths. Moving from the hip, she began to brush his mouth and nose and chin with her sex, back and forth, from side to side and round and round. Meanwhile, Kat, who faced her, had switched her technique, and was now rising and falling on strong thighs so that each downward stroke forced Armand’s penis deep inside her, evoking from her a staccato series of animal grunts. Driven by irresistible desire, she redoubled her exertions until her face and throat and breasts gleamed with perspiration. Holding Kat with her gaze, Margot raised her arms to run her hands through her hair, the movement tensing her breasts and accentuating the prominence of her nipples. Her eyes, like Kat’s spoke of profound trance-like arousal. At this moment, as if in transcendental mutual agreement, the two women leaned into 259

Judith Devere

each other. Without interrupting at all the fluidity or intensity of their devotions to Armand, they kissed and embraced, each in turn fondling the other’s breasts, suckling and gently biting each other’s swollen nipples. Mingled cries of lust and passion echoed throughout the cavern as all three drew close to release. And when the clamorous crescendo came, a flock of colorful parakeets, perched unseen until now on a rocky ledge overhead, took flight in riotous alarm. **** Their passion slaked, Armand and his two lovers remained in the cavern for another hour or more, alternately swimming and dozing on the warm sand. Nerve rending sexual release, together with the sun’s warmth and the soporific effects of the wine had left all three feeling pleasantly drowsy. What finally stirred them to action was the passing of the sun beyond the periphery of the cavern’s opening above. Although still undeniably beautiful, the cavern lost some of its enchantment in the absence of direct sunlight, and in unspoken agreement they prepared to leave. Exiting the cavern proved no less an adventure than entering had. In its racketing ascent, the helicopter seemed perilously close to the rock walls, and as they emerged from the ragged opening, the rotor blades had mere inches of clearance. Kat gasped as they emerged once again into brilliant sunshine. Clearly, Armand was an expert pilot — yet one more in his vast spectrum of accomplishments. Continuing their journey, Armand flew them to the southern end of the island where a vast forest clad plateau dominated the landscape, eventually dropping away in steep verdant valleys to the ocean. Kat marveled at the topographical diversity of the island. Although one of the most beautiful places she had ever 260

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

seen, in its creation millions of years earlier this place must have been an inferno of volcanic eruption, as the ocean spewed up hundreds of thousands of tons of unimaginably blazing hot magma. It was ironic, she thought, that such a cataclysm should trigger an evolutionary process that would, in time, transform hell to paradise: Armand Levequ’s own private paradise. As these thoughts passed through her mind, Kat realized that, of late, she had thought only rarely and fleetingly of life beyond the bounds of this island. And with that realization came another, more startling truth — in the relatively short time she had been here, she had come to regard L’Île des Désirs as…home.

261

Judith Devere

Chapter Thirteen

T

he helicopter trip around the island with Armand and Margot had been an eventful and memorable experience — in more ways than one. In the three days that followed, Kat saw little of the Vanderbrucks, Christina SIN or most of her entourage, with the necessary exception of Vladimir. During that period she spent a good deal of her time preparing the entertainment for the Vanderbrucks’ last night at Chateau Levequ. She scheduled her days so that, when she wasn’t working on the planned performance, she could make optimum use of her leisure time, either riding or doing whatever else took her fancy. Although she had accepted, even embraced the loss of her freedom in the broad sense, it was still nice to have a little time to oneself occasionally. Knowing that Kat would be busy, and perhaps even sensing that a little latitude might be good for her, Madam SIN left her to her own devices during this time, not even insisting on her presence at dinner. The challenge Christina had presented her was a daunting one, but Kat welcomed it. In devising and producing the performance she had in mind, she would be able to draw a good deal on her theatrical experience. More important, though, was the opportunity it offered her to demonstrate again her inventiveness and expertise as a potential dominatrix, while at the same time showcasing whatever imagination and flair she might 262

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

possess for creating erotically charged entertainment of the kind that guests at Chateau Levequ tended to favor. What she had planned was not so much a playlet, more of a vignette, but it was no less ambitious or challenging for that. She had begun by sketching, both in words and design, the concept, scene and scenario, and had then taken it to Vladimir to seek his views as to its merits and the practicality of producing it in the Chateau’s small theatre. She had held her breath for a while as he considered her proposal, then breathed a sigh of relief when he proclaimed that it was “doable”…just. Time, though, was of the essence, and it had been necessary to mobilize the performers and artisans as quickly as possible. All worked long hours, but there was a feeling of enthusiasm about the project that everyone seemed to share — a phenomenon that Vladimir later told Kat was due to her own motivational influence. In any event, by the afternoon of the Vanderbrucks’ last full day on the island, Vladimir judged that all was as near perfect as might be hoped for in the time that had been available to them. Madam SIN had made it very clear to Kat that her task of contriving a “suitably stimulating diversion” for the entertainment of her dinner guests on their final evening at the chateau was an important one. Margot and James Vanderbruck were good friends of Armand Levequ, and James was also one of his closest business associates. Kat smiled now as she thought about her assignment, which, although undoubtedly challenging, had turned out to be not quite so taxing as Christina probably intended. In fact, the scenario, which she had entitled Sacrifice, had been a mental work in progress for some time; not with the specific objective of providing entertainment for visitors, but for Kat’s own personal gratification. And now the day had arrived. Sitting on her balcony with a glass of lightly chilled PouillyFuissé, Kat was enjoying one of the natural phenomena that few ever learned to appreciate here on the island. The spectacle of 263

Judith Devere

sunset seen from L’Île des Désirs was undoubtedly an exquisite experience, and she had watched, time without number, as the sun slid into the western horizon, shedding its blood upon sea and sky like a dying warrior. It was a sight so beautiful…and, somehow, sad…that it often almost moved her to tears. But her suite was on the eastern side of the chateau, facing the mountains, which meant that the spectacle was denied her from her own balcony. Instead, though, while others gazed westward at the sunset, she was treated to a somewhat less spectacular, yet still incredibly beautiful and fascinating natural display. When the sun made its breathtaking descent toward the western skyline, the heavens to the east underwent a succession of psychedelic color changes, through several shades of blue, then yellow and green, to tangerine, red and violet, before finally surrendering to the depthless velvet purple of the night. And throughout this transition, the light reflected on the crooked mountain peaks and bare rocky outcrops among the otherwise verdant slopes beneath, transforming them from static pale gray through a constantly changing kaleidoscope of living color. It was a sight Kat never tired of, but this evening’s performance was coming to an end now, the mountainside dissolving into depthless shadow, and the darkening sky becoming aglitter with myriad pulsing stars. A pleasantly cool breeze had sprung to life, sucked in from the ocean by the stored day’s heat rising from the island, and carrying with it the strains of a Mozart serenade — the string quartet rehearsing by the lake below. Kat turned to look through the French windows at the clock on her mantelpiece; time to shower and dress for dinner. It was around seven-thirty when she arrived at the paved terrace beside the ornamental lake at the rear of the chateau. It was a lovely spot, set among mature trees and flowering shrubs — hibiscus, frangipani and bougainvillea, among others, all 264

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

ablaze with color. The scent of jasmine hung, sweet as a love promise, on the balmy night air. Not surprisingly, this place was Madam SIN’s preferred venue for alfresco dining. The dinner tables were arranged in the shape of a letter U, facing the lake as they had been on the evening of Camille’s ordeal upon the wooden pony. Gleaming silverware and fine crystal glasses graced the place settings on pristine white linen tablecloths. Servants moved to and fro, putting the finishing touches to the elegant setting. The string quartet was playing by the lakeside, each of the three male musicians acknowledging Kat’s arrival with a polite nod, two with a smile also. The fourth musician, a statuesque woman with generous lips and shoulder length amber hair, merely looked at her with what Kat sensed as feigned indifference. Kat made a point of smiling warmly at her, at the same time making a mental note that she would take the time at some stage to find out what manner of fire the woman really had in her loins. There were to be around thirty guests this evening, including most of the cast from the biker scenario and some of the production team who had helped Vladimir put it together and bring it to life. At least half were here already, standing in groups with pre-dinner drinks and generating a buzz of conversation interspersed with laughter. Among them, Kat recognized — but only just — Wolf, the leader of the fictional Cobras, as well as Duke, Coyote and Miguel, none of whose real names she had learned, even at rehearsals. Of course, they looked vastly different this evening: well groomed and immaculate in finely tailored formal eveningwear. And there was Dana, the biker chick redhead, now dressed in a black silk evening dress and looking as if she had just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. Kat’s own appearance on the terrace attracted appreciative glances from those who noted her arrival. She wore a cornflower 265

Judith Devere

blue matte jersey dress by Versace with a V neckline that plunged to her midriff. The divided crossover hem mirrored the neckline, sloping upward in an inverted V to the waist where the dress was gathered. The audacious design both revealed the inner swell of her breasts and allowed a glimpse of shapely upper thigh. As she moved among the assembled company, randomly greeting guests, she accepted a glass of champagne from an attentive waiter. She was looking for someone in particular. This evening’s event was important; important enough to be overseen by the Head of Household herself. And, yes, there she was, standing among the array of tables and serving trolleys discreetly hidden among the trees behind the dining area. Intent on supervising the arrangements and giving precise instructions to the male and female servants who were busying themselves around her, Camille didn’t notice Kat approaching until she was just a few feet away. When she did at last see her, she stopped what she was doing and simply stared at her, like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Kat smiled with satisfaction at the undisguised consternation in the mulatto’s eyes. Even though she was clearly attending to her duties with creditable dedication and professionalism, Kat’s sudden appearance had obviously evoked instant guilt and anxiety in the woman. “Good evening, Camille,” Kat said, her tone deliberately aloof. But despite her determination to assume an air of indifference in her former maid’s presence, being suddenly close to her like this stirred something deep inside her. And she had to admit that, even dressed in keeping with her post, Camille looked sensational. She wore a simple, short sleeved cotton dress in lime green — designed to be smart rather than alluring — yet the color perfectly highlighted and complemented the rich caramel skin tone that was her mulatto heritage. Her flesh seemed to gleam with vibrant life in the light of the flaming 266

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

torches that illuminated the terrace. Her only concession to makeup was a veneer of amethyst lip gloss and a gossamer-light dusting of matching blusher. “Well? Cat got your tongue, dear?” Kat asked when Camille didn’t immediately respond to her greeting. Then she smiled, adding slyly, “No pun intended.” The double entendre was not lost on Camille, whose cheeks flushed a shade darker. “I…” “Yes, Camille?” Camille, looking wretched now, wrung her hands. “Katrina… I mean, Ma’am. I’ve…been meaning to come and see you; to speak to you and ask for your forgiveness. I’m truly sorry for what I did, and I don’t want us to be enemies. You meant…mean…a lot to me; I think you know that.” Kat raised her eyebrows, as if genuinely surprised. “Enemies? My goodness, no, Camille; not enemies. Mistress and minion; that is our relationship now, and I’m sure you won’t forget it.” Camille lowered her eyes. “No, Ma’am.” “No, Ma’am,” Kat repeated, curtly. With that, Kat turned and walked back to the dining area where more of the guests had arrived, including the Vanderbrucks who were talking to Madam SIN, Frederique and Vladimir. For a moment, she paused, desperately trying to regain control of her feelings. The brief encounter with Camille, rather than satisfying her perceived need to hurt and belittle the woman, had actually thrown Kat’s emotions into a conflicting vortex of anger, resentment and desire. Her pulse was throbbing, her stomach churning, and for a wild, reckless moment she considered going back to Camille to offer her forgiveness. But of course, it was impossible; things had already progressed too far for that, and as if to underscore that fact, a female hand, cool, smooth, brushed softly against Kat’s upper arm. Although superficially reminiscent of an affectionate caress, 267

Judith Devere

Kat sensed the lie in the woman’s touch, somehow instinctively recognizing it as CHIANG Ming’s. She turned and was startled by Ming’s striking appearance this evening. She wore a high collared cheongsam in bright red, trimmed with black lace at the cuffs and collar. Phoenixes and other mythical Chinese creatures were woven into the fabric in brightly colored silk thread, while, reclining across Ming’s right breast, embroidered in gold thread, a large sloe-eyed dragon lay in smug repose, its expression personifying unmitigated degeneracy. Deep green eye shadow and crimson lipstick reinforced Ming’s normally disdainful countenance, her hair, night-black and glossy, squarely framing her face. She smiled the smile that never failed to pierce Kat like a sliver of ice — the anticipatory smile of the Dark Angel. “Everything ready, Kat?” Ming oozed. “I believe so, Ming, yes. I took the liberty of drawing on one of your potions to…oil the wheels, as it were.” “Number forty-six?” “Yes.” “Hm, a good choice. I’m glad to see that you’ve been paying attention to my instruction.” “I couldn’t have had a better or more accomplished teacher…in all aspects of my training.” Ming acknowledged the compliment with a marginal inclination of her head. “Well, I’m looking forward to the entertainment. Vladimir has been very secretive about it all.” “Yes, we agreed it would be better to keep things under wraps until the actual performance. That way nobody will harbor expectations that might not be satisfied in the event.” “Mm. Well, let’s just hope that all the secrecy proves justified.” The dinner chimes sounded, and Madam SIN gestured everyone to their seats, which were identified by name cards. Only the outer sides of the tables were set, so that the diners all 268

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

had a clear view of each other and the lake. Armand occupied the middle seat at the top table, while Madam SIN and Frederique sat in the corresponding places at the two side tables. To Armand’s right sat Margot and then Ming and Vladimir; on his left, Kat, James and Sharon. The remainder of the guests seemed to have been seated randomly. Despite the apparent formality, dinner turned out to be a relaxed and lively affair, with a miscellany of conversations — nurtured by some of the finest wines in the world from Armand’s cellar — variously taking place at once, sometimes overlapping, then dissolving as other topics and participants were engaged. Paradoxically, though, considering the moments of unmitigated debauchery most of the participants had so recently shared, the various discussions Kat happened to overhear seemed relatively mundane, genteel even — at least to begin with. It was as if those present were only slightly acquainted and so were confining themselves to the polite small talk customarily demanded by etiquette in such circumstances. But as the wine flowed, increasing references to more prurient matters began to emerge, both in general and in the specific context of the events of the past week, and by the time dinner was well under way, guests and hosts alike were openly discussing issues of a frankly licentious nature. And so it was with Kat in what had, by degrees, become an exclusive conversation between her and James Vanderbruck. It was he who had progressively steered this course, and both Armand, on their right, and Sharon on their left, had discreetly withdrawn, joining instead respective discussions with other guests. For the main part, Kat found herself answering James’s questions about herself and her life on L’Île des Désirs. She had no way of knowing whether he knew exactly who she was, but from the nature of his questions thought that he probably did not. And so, preferring to preserve her own and her father’s 269

Judith Devere

anonymity, she revealed her basic antecedents without being specific — the generality of her background and upbringing, a “sanitized” version of how she came to be here, and what had happened to her from the moment Armand had taken control over her life. James was frankly fascinated, and as she described her experiences he held her with a gaze so penetrating she could almost feel its intensity. His interest piqued noticeably as she talked about the sado-masochistic elements that in large part characterized her life at Chateau Levequ. It occurred to her then that this aspect of his and his wife’s own experiences on the island, though salacious in the extreme, had been limited to “forced” sexual humiliation in the biker gang rape scenario. But Kat realized now that he hungered for more, that he wanted to push boundaries. As she detailed the various trials and ordeals she had undergone, a gleam of unmistakable arousal burned bright in his eyes, and never was this more intense than when she described her feelings at the time of her experiences. Like ink on blotting paper he absorbed the information she imparted to him: how humiliation and intimate exposure in the presence of others could at once be both hateful and unimaginably exciting; the way pain administered in a sexual context could be — and her case almost always was — overhauled by sensual stimulation and gratification; and how both sexual submission and domination were capable of firing her senses beyond imagination. Although James’s appetite seemed confined to details of the voluptuous aspects of her life at Chateau Levequ, Kat ate as she talked, surprising herself that she was able to actually enjoy the meal while addressing a topic which inevitably aroused her also. The food, once again prepared by Marcel Vercout, was delicious, and when the main course had been served the chef joined the company, taking the place that had been reserved for him on Madam SIN’s left. 270

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

A surprisingly athletic looking individual for one who had spent his fifty-something years producing exquisite dishes in some of the most celebrated kitchens of the world, the master chef nevertheless enjoyed good food and fine wine, and set to with gusto. What none of the guests knew, though, was that the expression of sheer delight on his face as he ate and drank was not due solely to culinary enjoyment. For beneath the table, through prior arrangement by Christina SIN, a naked Malaysian beauty to whom Monsieur Vercout had earlier taken a particular fancy, was assiduously feasting on him. So skilful was this young woman at her labor of love, that she would continue to pleasure him with her mouth throughout the meal, repeatedly deferring any threatened orgasm. Not until the pre-designated moment would she finally allow him release, when the sensual experience would be complemented and optimized by a glass of classic vintage Chateau D’Yquem and, arguably, the world’s greatest crème brûlée, prepared by the chateau’s own master chef in accordance with Marcel’s precise instructions. It was just before this critical juncture, when dessert was about to be served, that Ming’s voice suddenly rose in volume, thereby drawing her conversation with Margot to the attention of those within earshot on either side of Armand. “Yes, I’ve heard it said that the Blue Grotto is the perfect place for alfresco sex,” she said, then added, with a patronizing smile, “From what you tell me it obviously worked its magic for you, Margot, although I have to say that I don’t really see the attraction myself. Of course, I don’t deny that it’s a scenically splendid spot, but I find it a little too pretty and limited in scope for my own carnal preferences.” It was suddenly very quiet on the top table, all eyes now focusing on Margot. Slowly, she turned to her left to meet the gazes of Armand, Kat and…her husband. It was the latter who broke the silence. 271

Judith Devere

“Sex? The Blue Grotto? Have I missed something, Margot?” “Tuesday, James,” Kat offered. “You remember Armand took Margot and me on a helicopter tour of the island? He took us to this incredibly beautiful place called the Blue Grotto; a beach hidden in a sort of immense cavern where the sea flows in through arches in the rock. And it really is blue; the sun on the water…” “And the…sex?” James asked, his gaze still linked to Margot’s. A shadow of confusion, uncertainty, flickered momentarily across Margot’s brow, but again it was not she who answered her husband; this time, it was Armand. “Yes. It was a perfect day. We had an alfresco lunch with wine, swam a little and then made love.” “The three of you? You, Kat and…Margot?” Although ostensibly questioning Armand for confirmation, James somehow left no one — especially Margot — in doubt that he expected the answer from his wife. She smiled, nervously. “Why, yes, James, I…” “Without my agreement?” Margot cast her eyes around, as if hoping that that someone would intervene or change the subject. When no one spoke, she said, “Well, after the scenario, and what happened on the chaise longue after dinner the other night, I thought it was all right to… That you wouldn’t…object.” All conversation had ceased now, the only voice, James’s, rising above the subdued tones of Vivaldi from the string quartet at the lakeside. “I might not…probably would not have objected…had I been consulted. The fact is, I wasn’t. You chose to have sex with Armand and Kat without my agreement.” “I must take responsibility for that, James,” Armand interjected. “I let it happen. Like Margot, after what had 272

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

happened in the scenario and between us afterwards, I assumed that…” James held up a hand, silencing his host. “No, no, Armand, I have no quarrel with you, my friend. Responsibility for the offence lies with Margot alone.” “Offence?” Margot echoed in dismay. “But I thought we had an understanding, an agreement.” “We had a specific agreement that we would ask Armand to prepare our scenario for us. And what happened on the chaise longue the other evening after dinner happened by mutual consent. We were both there. As you well know, this island is the only place either of us has indulged in any sort of sexual activity with anyone outside our marriage, but on each such occasion consent was sought and given, as should be the case. The Blue Grotto? I knew nothing about that. You chose arbitrarily to satisfy your desires there without any reference to me, and that was unforgivable.” Margot stared at her husband, clearly at a loss for words. The long moment of silence was eventually broken by Ming’s unctuous tones. “Oh dear, I seem to have let the cat out of the bag, don’t I? Are you going to punish her, James?” “Ming!” Madam SIN snapped. “How dare you? James and Margot are honored guests here.” For once, unusually, Ming paid no heed to Christina, merely looked at James with an air of confident expectation. He raised a hand again, effectively dismissing Madam SIN’s intervention. “No, Christina, it’s all right,” he said, glancing meaningfully at Margot. “I believe the question of…punishment…is a valid one in the circumstances.” “What?” Margot could not have looked more shocked if she had been unexpectedly slapped across the face. “James, what are you saying?” She scanned the faces around the tables, seeking 273

Judith Devere

support but receiving none. Instead, everyone merely watched intently as the small drama unfolded. “I’m saying that I think you need to be punished for engaging in adultery without my express blessing.” “P…Punished?” Margot laughed nervously. “James, you can’t be serious.” “Oh, I believe he is, Margot,” Ming said, making no attempt to disguise the anticipation in her voice. “But, what do you mean? What kind of…punishment?” James looked at Ming. “From what Kat has been telling me, Ming is the expert in such matters. Let’s ask her.” Margot turned to look at the woman with whom she had been engaged in interesting and friendly conversation throughout the meal, suddenly seeing her in a different light. “Well, Ming?” James asked. “What would you recommend?” As Ming opened her mouth to answer, Margot turned to look at James again, her cheeks now flushed with anger. “James, I don’t know if this is intended as some kind of joke, but it’s gone too far. Stop it at once.” “Not a joke, my dear. You transgressed and now you must accept the consequences. Ming will decide…” Margot rose from her chair, struck the table with a balled fist. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving.” “Sit…down.” Although she made no move to obey him, there was something in James’s tone and demeanor now that seemed to undermine Margot’s confidence. “Margot, listen to me. Understand that I love you, but that there are certain conventions which need to be recognized and accepted in our relationship from now on.” Margot looked confused. “Conventions?” James nodded. “Yes. Throughout our marriage we have been partners, each with an equal say in everything. I have decided 274

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

that that is going to change.” “Change?” Margot echoed, slowly resuming her seat. “What do you mean?” “From now on, I will make all the important decisions — unless, of course, it suits me to allow you an opinion. I expect you to serve and obey me in all things, and if you fail…” Margot was on her feet again. “No! Have you lost your mind, James? This is outrageous.” James leaned forward, resting both forearms on the table. “Listen to me, Margot. I’ve made my decision. I am to be the Master in our marriage from now on, unless…” Margot raised her head imperiously. “Unless?” “Unless you prefer divorce…which is the alternative.” Margot was aghast. “Divorce. How can you even begin to…? Are you drunk? Have you gone crazy? And what are you thinking, speaking to me like this in front of all these people?” “Sit down,” James said, softly, “and listen carefully to what I’m saying. I’ve spoken to several people while we’ve been here at Chateau Levequ, and I’ve discovered something about myself and, I think, about you. It began with the scenario, watching you do the things you did, accepting the humiliation and subjugation with great relish. I know now that we are meant to be in a relationship in which I dominate and you submit. I think I’ve known it subconsciously for a long time, but what has happened here, and what I have learned from speaking privately with Kat and others here has convinced me. As I said, I love you very much, and my decision doesn’t change that, but I know now that our relationship must evolve, and that our marriage cannot continue to flourish unless it does. The…new order…begins tonight; here; now.” As she listened to her husband’s declaration, Margot seemed to lose her resolve. Slowly sinking onto her chair again, she looked at him as a child might regard a strict but loving parent. 275

Judith Devere

“You are really serious about this,” she whispered, understanding finally overcoming her confusion. “Yes, Margot, I am. The choice is yours and you must make it now. In a moment, one way or another, our lives are going to change forever. I want your answer now, my love. Do you or do you not agree to my terms?” For what seemed like a very long time Margot just stared at James as if he were some menacing yet strangely fascinating newcomer to her life. At length, she lowered her eyes to stare, unseeing, at her hands in her lap. “I agree.” Had Margot been looking at her husband when she gave him her answer, she might have noticed the fleeting specter of a satisfied smile that briefly dimpled the corners of his mouth. “Punishment time, then,” Ming observed. At this, Margot raised her head, looked first at Ming, then at James. “Not now? Not here, surely?” she said, anxiety clouding her eyes. Ignoring Margot, Ming said to James. “It should be here and now, before witnesses.” James nodded. “And what exactly do you recommend?” “I take it from what you just said to Margot that you’ve never…spanked her?” Margot spun around to look at Ming. “Good God, no. Of course not.” Still not acknowledging Margot, Ming addressed James again. “Spank her.” “No!” Margot protested. “Spanking is a very intimate form of punishment. It would be a fitting way to begin your new relationship.” Wide eyed, Margot appealed to her husband. “Please, darling, not that; not here, in front of these people. Punish me later, if you must; in our suite.” 276

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Ming shook her head. “I have to say, James, considering that Margot has just agreed to accept you as her Master as well as her husband, she’s hardly behaving appropriately. Your new relationship has only just begun and already she’s arguing with you when she should be striving to make you proud of her. If anything, that merits an upgrading of the severity of her spanking.” “I’m afraid Ming’s right, Margot,” Kat offered. “Now that you have agreed to his mastery over you, you should do whatever you can please him and show that you belong to him body and soul.” Until Kat had spoken, Margot looked as though she was about to renege on her agreement, but now, in eye contact with her, she seemed to acquiesce. Turning her gaze on her husband, she said, “Kat’s right, I know. And Ming. I’m sorry, James; truly. Do what you must.” Ming caught the attention of one of the servants, spoke to him quietly. He disappeared, returning moments later with a straightbacked chair, which he placed in the center of the U-shaped arrangement of the dining tables. Facing the top table, the chair was on full view to all of the diners. “There,” Ming said. “Where everyone can see.” James rose from the table, began walking. As he reached Ming’s chair, he paused. “Will you join me, Ming? I may need some guidance.” “My pleasure.” James and Ming walked around behind the right hand side table and entered the U where the servant had placed the chair. Ming murmured something in James’s ear; he nodded and sat in the chair, she standing close to him, looking over his right shoulder. James looked at Margot. “Are you ready to accept your punishment, Margot?” Margot hung her head. “Yes, James,” she said, softly. “No, Margot,” Ming said, sharply. “During punishment you 277

Judith Devere

should address him as Master. And raise your voice, so that we can all bear witness to your compliance.” Margot lifted her head to look at her husband. “Yes…Master,” she answered, her voice ringing clear this time. “I am ready.” “Very well, come to me.” Margot rose, began what must have seemed to her a long and embarrassing journey to join her husband and Master in the space at the center of the tables. Kat watched, noticing that Margot was endeavoring to mitigate the humiliation of her situation in exactly the way that she herself had done in the earlier stages of her training. Holding her head proudly high, her shoulders back, she walked with feminine grace. Kat wondered if the pristine white satin evening dress she wore had been designed and made for her. Its plunging halter neck separated and emphasized her firm breasts, while a short classic train flowed from her heels in a demure passing reference to a bridal gown. The shimmering fabric seemed to flow around her thighs and calves as if it were liquid, creating the illusion that she was wading, Venus-like, from the ocean. Approaching James and Ming from behind, she at last drew level with them both. Ming motioned her to the right of her husband so that she stood facing him from the side, her legs against his mid-thigh. “Good, Margot. Now lower yourself face down across his lap.” Clearly hoping for a last minute reprieve Margot looked at James, who steadfastly avoided her gaze. Thus effectively rejected, she sighed and stooped to drape herself across his thighs, her head hanging toward the ground. Ming leaned forward, spoke softly into James’s ear so that those watching from around the tables could not hear. He nodded marginally, then placed his right hand, palm down, on Margot’s buttocks. Margot flinched as he began to move the hand over and around 278

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the perfectly contoured twin mounds, as if assessing for the first time their firmness and resilience. She gasped when he ran his hand down, to the confluence of her upper thighs with the lower curvature of her buttocks where he grasped a handful of satin and began slowly hauling her dress up her legs. She turned her head to look up at him in dismay. “Please, James, no,” she whispered, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “If you must spank me, do it over my dress; don’t humiliate me further in front of these people.” It was Ming who rejected Margot’s plea. “Humiliation is an integral part of the punishment, Margot. I thought you were intelligent enough to understand that.” “Besides,” James added, “most of these people have already seen you naked. What’s more, they’ve taken part with you in acts of unrestrained debauchery, or at least watched you perform them.” “Ah, but you’re missing the point, James,” Ming said. “Margot chose to take part in Vladimir’s scenario and the impromptu orgy on the chaise-longue the other evening. There is a world of difference between those events and what is about to happen to her now. Here, now, she has lost her freedom of choice, and with it her dignity. No longer in control, she is about to experience true degradation and humiliation, not the recreational variety designed to titillate and gratify her precise requirements. Am I not right, Margot?” Instead of answering, Margot looked away, turning her face to the ground again. “Answer Ming, Margot. Is she correct in her assessment?” Keeping her eyes steadfastly on the ground, Margot nodded. “Yes, James,” she murmured. “Ming…” “Mistress Ming, I think,” Ming hissed, “under present circumstances.” Madam SIN leaned forward, a frown furrowing her brow. 279

Judith Devere

“Ming, I…” James looked aside at her. “No, Christina, it’s all right. Ming is assisting me with Margot’s punishment. I agree that Margot should be subservient to her also, at least for the moment.” Madam SIN tilted her head in acknowledgement, content now that no protocol was being breached. James turned to look down at his wife again. “Margot?” “Yes. I’m sorry. Mistress Ming…understands completely. I have no control over my present condition, and it is infinitely degrading. I’m thoroughly ashamed and embarrassed about what is happening to me. All these people…” “I see. Then so much the better.” Having paused in the process of raising Margot’s dress, James now resumed his task, drawing the satin hem up her calves, over her knees and onto her thighs. A moment later, it lay around her waist, her naked buttocks somehow emphasized by the slender g-string of the white satin thong that divided them. Margot shuddered at the soft caress of the evening air on her bare flesh. But James had by no means fully prepared her yet for what was to follow. A little cry of consternation escaped her lips as he gripped the thong in the small of her back and began to peel the garment away. With slow deliberation he drew the minuscule scrap of satin down her thighs, then let it go. The thong slithered down her legs until it came to rest, dangling from one ankle. “Push her a little further forward, will you James,” Vladimir called. “We on this table don’t have quite as clear a view as the others.” Kat was surprised to see Margot flush crimson at this, but James merely answered, “Certainly, Vladimir. I wouldn’t want you to miss the…” he smiled, wickedly. “…taming of the shrew.” Laughter around the tables served only to intensify Margot’s discomfiture, the blush spreading to her throat and neck. 280

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Hardly fair, James,” Madam SIN said, nevertheless smiling broadly herself. “It isn’t so much that Margot is in any way shrewish, merely that she needs to accept submission to you as her Master. But I agree that this, her first punishment, is an important symbolic event, and it should be exploited to the full.” Margot vented a little cry as James thrust her further forward over his lap, obliging her to partially support herself by placing her hands flat on the stone paved terrace. “I trust that affords you a better view, Vladimir?” James asked. “Much better. Thank you.” Again, Ming murmured something to James. In response, he inserted his hand between Margot’s tightly clenched thighs. At first she resisted, prompting a hard slap on her right buttock from her husband. “Ouch!” she cried. “That hurt, James.” “Don’t be a baby, Margot,” Ming responded. “Your entire bottom and your sex will be on fire before James has finished with you.” James pushed his wife’s thighs apart, to the extent that her right leg slid off his knees. To avoid falling off his lap, she bent the leg and placed her foot on the ground. This new posture was ungainly and humiliating in the extreme for Margot. As she dangled precariously over her husband’s knee, her buttocks forced high, thighs splayed wide, her observers — who were without exception observing her very closely indeed — were treated to the unmitigated prospect of her gaping sex and its neatly manicured lawn of raven hair. “Please, James,” Margot whispered. Kat wondered if Margot entertained any realistic expectation of relief from her plight, but thought it more likely that her plea was merely a reflexive reaction to her abasement. In any event, it did her no good because even as she spoke James raised his 281

Judith Devere

hand high over her rump and brought his palm down hard on her bare flesh. Margot’s body stiffened at the blow, her yelp of pain blending with the slap of flesh against flesh to echo around the grounds of the chateau. But before the echo had died, James delivered a second, even harder slap to his hapless wife’s bottom. Margot bit her lower lip, seeming to strive to resist struggling or crying out again as James delivered the third blow, then a fourth and fifth. Soon James established a rhythm, laying forceful slaps across each of his wife’s buttocks in turn. Ming gazed down through smoldering eyes at the prospect of Margot’s buttocks reddening in response to the spanking administered by her husband. So expertly did he accomplish the task, that Kat found it difficult to believe he was new to the experience. **** At length, Margot could no longer maintain any pretence of stoicism. As Ming had predicted, her buttocks began to feel as if they were actually burning, and she began squealing and begging for James to stop. But James was obdurate. As his wife began to struggle and kick, he placed his free hand in the small of her back, pinning her to his lap as he intensified her spanking. Tears spilled from Margot’s eyes as her screams subsided into sobbing, but then an unexpected thing happened. The painful burning in her buttocks began to evolve into a powerfully radiant glow that permeated deeply into her flesh. There was pain still, but now it was accompanied by slithery thrill in her belly, and a burgeoning of perverse pleasure, sensual and arousing, that spread to her vulva. Suddenly she was no longer crying and kicking, but quietly moaning and squirming on her husband’s lap. Ming’s eyes were shining brightly now. “I think she must be very wet now,” she said to James. 282

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

**** James paused, looked briefly up at Ming who nodded and then looked purposefully at Margot’s now lustrous sex. Sure enough, Margot’s intimate seepage had spread to her inner thighs, which now gleamed in the flickering light of the flaming torches. “Touch her,” Ming said. Slowly, James ran his hand over Margot’s crimson buttocks and between her thighs. His fingers slipped easily inside her, parting the swollen and puffy labia. She let free a long low groan. “Do you want to come, Margot?” Ming asked, unctuously. Margot, her eyes almost closed now, nodded. “Mmnng.” Ming moved around to stand beside Margot. Leaning over her she whispered in the other woman’s ear, then straightened up again and spoke quietly to James, who nodded in response. “Is there something you want to tell us all, Margot?” James said, simultaneously sliding two fingers deep inside Margot’s sex. “Ooooh.” Margot squirmed against her husband’s impaling fingers. “Well?” Margot nodded, shuddered as Ming ran her fingers alongside James’s through the lubricious folds of her sex. “Oooooh. Oh my! Master…pl…please… My poor…cunt is on fire. I need to come. Master; Mistress; please help me come.

Pleeease.”

Ming looked at James. “Well, James. Shall we?” By way of response, James began to slide his two fingers back and forth in his wife’s sex, each successive withdrawal repeatedly sucking out the glistening pink labia. Margot gasped, her hips undulating against her husband’s hand. Very slowly Ming trailed her fingers around James’s, her impeccably manicured fingernails tracing a serpentine route through Margot’s cleft, then 283

Judith Devere

up along the valley between her buttocks. That valley, too, was flooded from the storm of Margot’s arousal, and as Ming drew tantalizingly closer to the dark center, Margot raised her head back against her shoulders, her expression deceptively suggesting profound agony. James’s hand moved quickly now, shuttling back and forth in his wife’s hungry vulva. Ming pressed her fingertip, softly but insistently, against the sensitive orifice at the heart of Margot’s buttocks. This was too much for the tormented woman. “Oh, God, pleeeease. Please Mistress, do it!” Ming’s lips curled in a willful smile as she insinuated her fingertip into the ring of Margot’s sphincter. For a second, Margot froze, her breath caught in her throat. But then, when Ming thrust her finger deep inside her, she screamed long and loud into the night. Strong as he was, James had difficulty in holding his wife in place on his lap as her body shuddered and convulsed in the grip of a shattering, all consuming orgasm. When the paroxysm had eventually run to its conclusion, Ming helped Margot to her feet. Again, Ming whispered into her ear. Facing her husband, she bowed her head and said softly, “Thank your for my punishment, Master.” James smiled, leaned forward in his chair and kissed her softly on the mouth. Ming said, “Well said, Margot. Come, I will help you back to your seat.” Weak at the knees, Margot made her way back unsteadily to her seat with Ming’s help. At first, she simply looked down at the table before her, seemingly wanting to avoid the eyes of the other diners. But when James and Ming also resumed their seats, the buzz of conversation began to rise again and she found that, contrary to her expectations, she was no longer the focus of attention and curiosity. Now that her ordeal was over, it was as if she had done nothing more remarkable than sing at the piano 284

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

for the entertainment of the guests. . And so to dessert and Chateau D’Yquem…and Marcel Vercout’s now desperately needed own orgasm. Unlike Margot’s though, the latter was a clandestine event to which only he and the lovely Malaysian — and perhaps Christina SIN — were privy. “Well,” said Madam SIN when dinner was finally over, “Time for the evening’s official entertainment, I think.”

285

Judith Devere

Chapter Fourteen

ALe Théâtre Levequ

rmand led everyone into the chateau’s splendid auditorium: . Sequestered in the heart of the chateau on the first floor, the theatre was an architectural masterpiece. Although miniature in scale, it was, in terms of design and artistic excellence, the equal of many of the grand theatres of the capital cities of Europe and America. The interior walls were graced at intervals by Doric columns, between which, and within borders of ornately gilded plaster relief work on the vaulted ceiling, exquisite hand painted renaissance style murals decorated the entire surface of the theatre. Cunningly designed to compensate for the diminutive size of the theatre, the stage bellied out at the center, thereby optimizing the performance area in a sort of semicircular arena. Rather than the traditional tiers of seats found in conventional theatres, the audience here were accommodated in upholstered leather armchairs on a luxuriously carpeted terrace that partially enfolded the stage. A small drinks table complemented each armchair, all of which were positioned to provide an unobstructed view of the stage. Concealed multicolored lighting illuminated the walls and ceiling in muted tones. James and Margot, who had by now recovered some of her customary poise, had not previously seen the theatre and were frankly impressed. As they and the other guests took their seats, a 286

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Bach overture filtered softly through invisible speakers, and a small company of waiters moved among them taking their orders for drinks. Naturally, the Vanderbrucks had the prime seats, at the center front of the terrace. On either side sat Madam SIN and Armand, who in turn were flanked, respectively, by Vladimir and Ming. Completing the front row of the audience, Kat and Sharon occupied the seats closest to the wings on either side of the stage, which at present was screened by a dark red velvet curtain. The remaining guests, all of whom were indentured to Armand Levequ in some way or another, sat to the rear of their principal and his entourage. Kat caught the sleeve of a passing waiter and gave him an instruction. The waiter made his way to the anteroom at the rear of the terrace, where the drinks were prepared. A moment later, Camille came out and walked across the terrace to Kat. “Yes, Ma’am?” Kat reached out to the drinks table at her side, picked up one of the two glasses of red wine that were standing there. She smiled at Camille. “Here, have a glass of wine, Camille.” A shadow of doubt, or perhaps caution, crossed the mulatto’s face as she looked at the wine. “Thank you, Ma’am, but I’d rather not. I have to make sure everything goes well this evening, that there are no hitches. I don’t think I should drink.” Kat’s eyes narrowed. “What you think, Camille, is unimportant.” She thrust the glass closer to the other woman. “Here, drink it.” Camille took the glass with trembling fingers, looked at the wine suspiciously, then back at Kat. “May I ask, is it…?” Kat smiled, archly. “A Ming special: number forty-six. It will…loosen you up, emotionally and physically.” Alarm quickened Camille’s gaze. “Am I permitted to 287

Judith Devere

enquire…for what purpose?” “Certainly you are, Camille. This evening you are about to make your acting debut. I have written a playlet with a part especially for you, and you will have the honor of performing on stage for Armand and Madam SIN’s guests. But drink your wine first; you’ll need it, I think.” Camille raised the glass slowly to her lips, then paused. For an instant she looked as if she were about to cry. “Please, Katrina. Don’t do this to me.” Kat reached out to touch Camille’s left breast, felt the nipple stiffen beneath the thin material as she gripped it between her forefinger and thumb. “Aah.” Camille winced, defensively rounding her shoulders as Kat squeezed the tender flesh hard. “Drink,” Kat ordered, through an uncharacteristically cruel smile. Camille drank, and only when she had completely drained the glass did Kat release her now aching nipple. “Oh, you will need this,” Kat said, producing a sheet of paper from a small drawer in the drinks table. She handed it to Camille. “The scenario. You have about five minutes to study it and get into character. You know how this works. There is no script, no lines to learn; you simply need to know what is to happen, and…play it by ear.” Camille stared at the paper, her lips silently mouthing the words as she read. Then her mouth fell open and she looked back at Kat, her eyes imploring. “Oh, no. Please don’t make me do this. Please, Katrina. If you still feel anything for me at all you’ll spare me this.” Kat glared at her. “The scenario describes exactly what I feel for you, Camille. Now go backstage and prepare. And remember this: Christina and Armand will inevitably judge me by the outcome of this playlet, and since you are the principal 288

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

character, success depends largely on your performance. Let me down and I will make the remainder of my stay at Chateau Levequ a living hell for you.” As Kat spoke these final words, a change seemed to come over Camille. Now forced to accept the inevitability of what Kat had planned for her, she seemed to make a conscious effort to steel herself for the ordeal ahead, even managing to claw back some semblance of dignity. Grudgingly, Kat couldn’t help but admire the way she raised her head and looked her squarely in the eye as she answered. “I won’t let you down…Mistress.” When Camille had gone, Kat turned her attention to what Madam SIN was saying to the Vanderbrucks. “The playlets are something we put on for the entertainment of visiting guests. They have two things in common: the theme is always erotic and the duration no more than an hour. The standard of the productions is, I believe you will agree, very professional, and past performances have, without exception, attracted a good deal of praise from guests. Of course, that is hardly surprising, given Vladimir’s extensive experience in theatrical production and direction. The playlets, you see, are normally devised and written by him with input from Ming or myself. This evening’s performance, however, is Kat’s production. Her first.” Christina glanced at Kat. “It’s all very secretive; even I don’t know the theme.” “Well, I don’t think anyone will be disappointed,” Vladimir ventured. “At least, not if Camille is up to the challenge.” “Ah, yes,” Madam SIN said. “I had forgotten; Vladimir coproduced this evening’s playlet with Kat, so he is in on the secret, as it were.” “No, no, Christina, not co-produced. I merely gave Kat some guidance and suggestions over certain aspects of the playlet that she wasn’t sure about. The concept and the scenario are entirely 289

Judith Devere

her own.” “Camille, you say, Vladimir?” James interjected, his interest clearly piqued. “Yes, James,” Madam SIN replied. “You know her as the Head of Household. Once seen, never forgotten, yes?” “Oh, absolutely. A very beautiful woman. What is she, West Indian?” “Yes. A mulatto of mixed Negro and European parentage; often, as in Camille’s case, a stunning combination.” “Isn’t it a bit unusual to have your Head of Household doubling as an actress?” “Well, with the exception of myself, Vladimir, Ming and Frederique, everyone on this island is indentured to Armand. As such, each may be called upon to perform any task in any role. But you are right, although it isn’t unknown, it is unusual for the domestic staff to perform in the playlets. It’s happening this evening because Kat particularly wanted Camille to take the principal role. It’s a…” Madam SIN cast a knowing smile in Kat’s direction. “…personal issue, I believe.” “I see,” James said, but it was clear from his puzzled expression that he did not. When everyone had been served with their drinks of choice the house lights began to dim and Bach gave way to a haunting, strangely mystical score that sounded as if it came from a music synthesizer. “Ah, good,” said Madam SIN, “the performance is about to begin.” The curtain rose to reveal, not the anticipated stage set but a film projected onto a curved stage-wide screen. Viewed from the air as if by some quartering eagle, a seemingly boundless tropical forest covered the earth’s surface, its green mantle punctuated here and there by rugged mountain ranges and plateaus. Wreaths of ethereal white cloud straggled mountain peaks in contrast with 290

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

the azure blue sky. A woman’s voice overlaid the music... “The jungle. Somewhere in this…or another world. But certainly in another time; long, long ago. Wild creatures roam, vie for survival and dominance. There is danger everywhere. Yet in the remote vastness of this great wilderness there also is human life.” The eagle swooping low now, fixing with its all-seeing eyes a great clearing among the trees, where buildings of goldencolored stone, linked together high above the ground by defensive walls, clustered in a structure that looked part palace, part fortress, part city. Within the ramparts — gardens, fountains, lakes…and people, still too distant to see in detail, but apparently denizens of some isolated civilization. “Here, deep in the heart of this verdant but hostile land, surrounded by warlike barbarian tribes, lies the tiny idyllic citystate of Mellundra. Within these walls dwell a people more civilized than any other in this world; a matriarchal society ruled by its legendary warrior princess, Jozlyn. Her prowess as military leader, together with the fearsome courage and martial skills of her army of female warriors, holds at bay the barbarian hordes. But although vanquished in battle over and again, the outsiders will never cease in their quest to destroy the people of Mellundra and seize for themselves the fabulous wealth and fertile cornucopia that lies so temptingly close behind these towering ramparts.” Clouds closed in, enveloping the scene. The light in the theatre dimmed, then died. The music faded to nothing. A few moments of darkness, and then…a faint whirring sound, barely audible, as a prop or perhaps the video screen moved on stage. Again, the woman’s voice, her tone guarded, as if she were discreetly imparting some ancient arcane knowledge… “Only days ago, the ambitions of one barbarian army were 291

Judith Devere

almost realized, not through superior military strategy, but thanks to the innocent treachery of one of Mellundra’s own; a young woman blinded by love…or desire…for one of the brutish invaders.” A glimmer of light burgeoned at the left side of the stage to reveal a cameo — the interior of a cell: stone walls, a high barred window, straw on the floor. “This is she, the beautiful Kalima.” A soft gasp from James as he recognized Camille, cast in the role of Kalima. Kat understood why. Wearing nothing but a scanty leather loincloth, her former maid looked magnificent; caramel skinned and long limbed, her perfect breasts on full view for the first time since the Vanderbrucks had arrived on the island. And despite her chagrin at learning what was in store for her from the scenario Kat had given her, it was clear that she had taken Kat’s threat seriously. Not wishing her remaining days at Chateau Levequ to be made a ‘living hell’, it seemed that she had resolved to play the role of Kalima to the best of her ability — however agonizing the consequences might be. She looked wretchedly miserable and afraid, although perhaps the knowledge of what she was about to experience rendered this achievement no great thespian challenge. Her ankles were fettered by chain linked steel manacles, while her wrists, similarly manacled, were attached by steel staples to a metal collar around her neck. The sound of heavy keys rattling off stage seemed to startle Kalima. She flinched as the studded wooden door of her cell creaked open to admit two young women dressed in the leather and bright metal regalia of the Royal Guard. The armored appearance of their attire, though, was clearly symbolic rather than intended for serious combat: sandals and metal shin guards, very short leather skirts overlaid with vertical metal strips, and metal breastplates which supported but, perversely, exposed the women’s naked breasts in a most provocative manner. Crested 292

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

helmets of gleaming metal completed the uniform. The guards, like Kalima, were probably in their mid-twenties, and like Kalima, they were dazzling. Facially, they would not have looked out of place in the kind of woman’s fashion magazine in which ravishing, high-cheeked-boned arrogance was the order of the day. Bodily, they were exquisite also; much taller than Kalima, with longer limbs and high firm breasts. But in both cases their quintessentially feminine physique was underpinned by the toned musculature of the athlete. These women were not only beautiful, but stalwart too. Regarding Kalima with disdain, the guards seized her roughly by the arms. “Come,” one of them ordered, contemptuously. “You have been summoned to the royal presence.” The aura of light around the jail cell faded, winked out. For a few moments the theater remained in total darkness, and then the stage erupted in bright light. “The palace throne room,” announced the female narrator, “where Princess Jozlyn is about to decide the wretched Kalima’s fate.” Murmurs of surprised approval from the audience confirmed that the set was every bit as impressive as Kat herself had thought it. Although, as with the other stage sets for this playlet, Vladimir had given Kat some input, the design was her own, and she was justifiably proud of it. And such was the skill and artistry of Armand’s artisans that everything on the set looked exactly like the real thing, not the combination of fiberglass, plastic and other synthetic materials they had so cunningly transformed to stone and timber and metal. To the right of the stage on a raised stone dais, Jozlyn, warrior princess of Mellundra, sat on a high-backed gothic throne of intricately carved wood, inlaid with gold, silver and gems. Predictably, she was ravishing, a flaxen haired ice maiden with eyes almost as pale blue as Kat’s. And the similarity did not 293

Judith Devere

end with the eyes, for Kat had scoured the island’s entire population to find someone who looked as much like her as possible to play Jozlyn. The reason, which only she knew for sure, but others — Christina SIN surely among them — might guess, was that this, Kat’s first playlet production, was also destined to be the vehicle for Camille’s punishment for her betrayal of Kat. In a small twist of irony, Kat had created Princess Jozlyn as her own alter ego. Although she could have elected to play the part herself, she wanted to watch the performance as an observer so that she could focus her entire attention on Camille’s ordeal, rather than having to concentrate on her own role as well. In finding Alexandra, the actress now playing Jozlyn, she had been fortunate in that Alex looked enough like her to be a sister, if not exactly an identical twin. And using her considerable talents as a makeup artiste, Sharon had succeeded in completing the deception, so that watching Alex on stage gave Kat the slightly unnerving sensation of looking at herself from outside her body. Jozlyn’s hair hung loose and flowing, save for two braids into which Sharon had woven wild flowers and plaited into a sort of natural coronet or tiara around the top of her head. She wore a long gossamer-thin white gown that shimmered when she moved, more than hinting at her nakedness beneath it. Plain sandals completed her attire, which, although not showy, was regal enough in its way. Though her eyes smoldered with ice-fire, her expression was as of stone as she watched the two female guards bring Kalima through the arched doorway into the throne room. On the stone walls of the room, illuminated by flaming torches, hung tapestries and shields emblazoned with colorful depictions of warriors and fantastical creatures, the like of which did not exist in the world of the audience. More female Royal Guards, attired identically to those escorting Kalima, stood with their backs to the wall at intervals around the chamber. Kalima lowered her eyes to the floor as her escort led her across the 294

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

chamber and thrust down onto her knees before the princess. In unison, the escorting guards bowed to Jozlyn, on whose right and left, respectively, sat a man and a woman. Both much older than the princess, these two occupied leather-slung chairs below the dais. The man wore a maroon ankle length robe, tied at the waist with a knotted cord, the woman a similar gown in pale gray. Again the voice of the narrator, softer now as if not wishing to encroach upon the proceedings in the throne room… “In the matriarchal structure of Mellundran society, women are generally superior in status to men, whose role is mainly to labor and breed. There are, however, a few exceptions, such as the man sitting on Princess Jozlyn’s right hand. Sedemay is the High Priest of the fertility god, Ramuk, without whose benefaction, Mellundrans believe, the birthrate — and particularly that of female children — might drop to an unsustainable level, thereby leading to the demise of their civilization. Nevertheless, the supreme deity of Mellundra is female, the goddess Kai. Asheni, the woman on Princess Jozlyn’s left, is the High Priestess of Kai. Both Sedemay and Asheni are trusted advisors to the princess.” Expressionless now, all three looked down at the luckless Kalima. “Look at me, Kalima,” Jozlyn ordered. Slowly, Kalima raised her eyes, flinching when they met the glacial gaze of the princess. Still looking at Kalima, Jozlyn asked, “Her offence, Asheni?” The older woman, probably in her mid-fifties yet still attractive enough to turn the heads of young men, and for that matter, women, replied solemnly, “Treason, Highness.” “The details of her crime?” “On the night of the last new moon, without authority, she stole out of the citadel to meet…a man.” “A barbarian.” 295

Judith Devere

“Yes, Highness, a warrior named Gandrach, of the tribe of Hagoth.” “A tribe that represents one of the greatest threats to the security of Mellundra.” “Just so, Highness.” “Continue, Asheni. By our law, the accused must be formally apprised in full of the nature of the offence for which she or he is to be sentenced.” Asheni went on to describe how, oblivious to the fact that her would-be lover was the bait in a cunning and potentially calamitous trap, Kalima broke one of the supreme laws of Mellundra by leaving the citadel at night and without permission. Exiting by a little known secret gate in the eastern wall, she met Gandrach in the dark of night. But he was not alone as he had promised; a war party of more than a thousand Hagoth warriors were waiting for her also. And once the gate was open and the walls of Mellundra breached, the heavily armed barbarians began to pour inside. Two things saved Mellundra that night. The first was Kalima’s cry of dismay on discovering that she had been tricked, which was heard by a vigilant guard on the parapet above. The second was the fact that the secret gate was wide enough to admit only two people at once, and then only just. No more than fifty of the Hagoth invaders had succeeded in entering Mellundra by the time the guard had alerted her comrades and met them in a bloody clash. Of necessity the battle had begun inside the walls of the citadel, but as the disciplined Mellundran troops began to get the upper hand, more joined them. After slaying those who had breached the walls, the Mellundrans forced the conflict outside the citadel and after much bloodshed eventually routed the enemy. Kalima had been taken prisoner then and was thrown into a cell, where she had been left until now to await her fate. “Thank you, Asheni,” Princess Jozlyn said when the High 296

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Priestess had finished. Then, to the prisoner kneeling before her, “I cannot begin to tell you how this grieves me, Kalima. I took you as a slave in battle, and you served me well. So well that I granted you freedom, even took you as my lover and consort. From slave to Princess Consort — you were fortunate indeed. And look how you have repaid my beneficence.” She shook her head, ruefully. “What am I to do with you now?” Asheni looked at Kalima, her expression grim, set like stone. “Highness, Kalima’s actions could have led to the annihilation of our civilization. The penalty for treason is death.” Kalima began to shiver, her eyes widening with dread. She fell forward, prostrate before the princess. “Please, Your Highness. Please do not sentence me to death. Any other penalty I will gladly accept, but I don’t want to die.” Jozlyn looked down at her. “Treason is the most heinous crime against our law, Kalima. All know this.” “But I did not intend treason, Highness. I had no wish or design to put Mellundra at risk; I was tricked. I had no idea that Gandrach…” The sentence crumbled as Kalima broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “Stupidity is no defense, Kalima,” the princess snapped, contemptuously. “You may not have known that the Hagoths were about to invade, but you deliberately broke the law by leaving the citadel without authority. That in itself is sufficiently serious an offence to attract the severest of penalties. But to make matters worse — much worse — you betrayed me personally. You betrayed my kindness and love by being unfaithful to me…with a man. Kneel up again. I want to see your face.” Kalima scrambled back up into a kneeling position to look up at Jozlyn, her naked breasts quivering. She shook her head. “I have not lain with Gandrach, Highness, I swear it. Indeed, I have never been with any man. As I have told you before, I have only 297

Judith Devere

loved and been loved by you. I am…a virgin.” This seemed to appease Jozlyn somewhat, but still she frowned displeasure. “But you would have lain with him that night. That was your intention.” Kalima hung her head, remained silent. “Answer me!” “Yes, Highness,” Kalima whispered. Jozlyn’s eyes flashed, dangerously. “And how did you come by this…barbarian?” “He was one of your prisoners, taken at the battle of the two rivers last spring. He worked naked as a slave in the fields until he was exchanged for one of our own warriors taken prisoner by the Hagoths. He was a beautiful man; strong, muscular. He spoke to me whenever he saw me alone, and when he spoke to me his words seemed to work a kind of magic on my senses. I grew to…desire him very much; I could not help myself. But I never dreamt that he might be using me, that all the time he was planning revenge on Mellundra. “Highness, I know I have broken the law and offended you most grievously, but I beg you to remember what we have shared together; what we meant to each other. Punish me —severely if that is your will — but please spare me death.” The princess seemed to be considering Kalima’s plea when Asheni said, “Death is the only appropriate sentence, Highness.” “Unless…” Although he had been listening intently, it was the first time Sedemay had spoken since Kalima entered the throne room. Jozlyn and Asheni looked at him now, the princess querying him with a raised eyebrow. “There is an alternative, Your Highness…if you should feel disposed to show clemency and spare this wretched prisoner’s life.” Asheni glowered at him. “Death is the penalty, Sedemay. How 298

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

can you suggest any other? She must be sacrificed.” Sedemay smiled, guilefully. “Sacrificed, yes. But sacrifice need not necessarily mean death. The girl claims she is a virgin. Your Highness, many moons have passed since we last sacrificed a virgin to Lord Ramuk, principally because your troops have taken no female prisoners in battle during that time. This has been a matter of some concern to me, and should be to us all. If Lord Ramuk does not receive his due soon the consequences may be grave. Ordinarily, it would be unthinkable to surrender one of our own revered female Mellundrans to Ramuk, but now, here…” Sedemay paused, gestured with a hand toward Kalima. “Here is a possible solution to our predicament.” “But Highness…” Asheni began, seemingly opposed to Sedemay’s proposal. Jozlyn silenced her with a raised hand, the suggestion of a sinister smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Sedemay, you are wise indeed. Which is why, of course, unlike your male inferiors, you occupy such an exalted position in Mellundra. I agree with your view. Kalima shall be sacrificed to Ramuk.” “Oh, Highness,” Kalima cried in alarm. “Please, not that.” “Silence! You begged for your life and I have graciously shown you mercy. Where is your gratitude?” Kalima hung head in despair, tears rolling down her cheeks. “My…apologies, Your Highness. You are gracious indeed. Thank you.” The princess smiled, grimly. “Of course, there are no guarantees that you will survive the ordeal, but you are young — lithe and strong — so you at least have a sporting chance. Naturally, you will be punished as well.” Kalima’s shoulders shook as she sobbed in silence. “Thank you, Highness,” Sedemay said. “This will surely appease Lord Ramuk. But there is a formality to be addressed 299

Judith Devere

before your decree can be executed.” Princess Jozlyn looked at him. “We must confirm her virginity,” he explained. Jozlyn nodded. “Yes, of course. Do it now.” Somehow managing to conceal her displeasure at Kalima’s reprieve, Asheni nodded an unspoken command to the two female guards who had escorted Kalima to the throne room. The guards moved forward and hauled Kalima up from the floor. Bending on one knee, one of the guards used a key to remove the shackles and chain from Kalima’s ankles while the other briskly removed her leather loincloth and tossed it aside. Two of the other guards then left their stations to pick up what looked like a sort of bench or couch made from leather stretched across a wooden frame, which they carried across the chamber. When they had set this before the dais, all four guards lifted the now naked Kalima onto the bench, laying her on her back. Two held her arms while the other two took hold of her by the ankles and by her thighs, just above her knees. Apparently used to this ritual, the guards holding Kalima’s legs then pulled them wide apart, at the same time bending them at the knee and pushing her thighs back against her shoulders. Looking aside and biting her lower lip, Kalima was clearly acutely ashamed, and this was hardly surprising because her smoothly shaven sex was now on full view to all present, the lips puckered as if in the act of kissing an invisible lover. Seeing her traitorous former consort thus humiliated, Princess Jozlyn feasted her eyes on the prospect as both Asheni and Sedemay rose and walked toward Kalima. Standing on either side of the young woman’s gloriously exposed vulva and parted buttocks, Priest and Priestess took hold of her labia, pulling them aside. Male and female fingers slid deep into Kalima’s sex, evoking an anguished cry from her. She writhed and moaned as Asheni and Sedemay probed, explored and examined the now 300

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

slick depths of her sex. At length, they made eye contact with each other, conferring silently. Then, turning to face the princess, Asheni spoke. “She did not lie, Highness. No man’s cockhead has ever penetrated her.” Sedemay nodded agreement. “She is a virgin.” “Then let her be sacrificed to Lord Ramuk. But punish her first.” Darkness descended again. In the minutes that followed no one spoke, and an almost palpable tension seemed to permeate the atmosphere in the theatre. At last, a faint glow appeared in the dark. As it grew and flourished, another scene crystallized on the stage — a windowless stonewalled chamber somewhere in a vast dungeon. Flaming torches adorned the walls, casting leaping shadows over the scene. In the rear right hand corner of the stage Princess Jozlyn reclined in a chair hewn from solid stone, while Asheni and Sedemay occupied the corner on the left in identical seats. All three faced both the audience and center stage, where their undivided attention focussed upon the illstarred prisoner. Still naked, Kalima’s body glowed with a dark satin sheen in the torchlight. Her arms were stretched upward and outward, the shackles on her wrists now clipped to either end of a horizontal metal bar that was suspended above her from chains hanging from the roof of the chamber. Since she faced the audience, her observers there were able to discern very clearly her anguished expression and the rivulets of tears that ran down her cheeks before spilling like glistening diamonds onto her proudly taut breasts. It was manifestly clear to all that neither her expression nor her tears were contrived by special effects or acting ability, but were rather the product of genuine fear and shame. From the scenario given to her by Kat, Camille — now Kalima — had correctly identified the woman standing just a few paces to her 301

Judith Devere

left as her tormentor. For the benefit of the audience, however, the narrator explained… “The time has come for Kalima to receive her punishment, and for this she has been delivered into the hands of Princess Jozlyn’s Mistress of the Dungeon, Saphala, a woman who loves her work. Those unfortunate enough to be commended into Saphala’s…care…never forget the time they have spent with her. This is a woman who can, and does, achieve exquisite orgasm simply from inflicting and observing the pain, anguish and humiliation of her charges.” Kat glanced sideways across the terrace toward where Ming sat. What she saw evoked in her a knowing little smile. She had written the part of Saphala with Ming very much in mind, and as she had expected, the character clearly intrigued the Chinese dominatrix. In Kat’s creation of the Mistress of the Dungeon, Ming seemed to recognize a kindred spirit. Leaning forward slightly in her chair, her eyes sparkling with fascination and anticipation, Ming watched and listened with absolute concentration as the narrator’s words reinforced the visual imagery. But then, as if she sensed that she herself was being covertly observed, she turned and caught Kat looking. Kat’s stomach lurched. Ming would surely know that, in creating Saphala, she had also caricatured her. But rather than piercing Kat with the withering ice-cold gaze she expected, Ming surprised her by smiling. It was a thin, economical smile, to be sure, but not at all hostile. Amazed, Kat suddenly realized that Ming was as close to laughing at herself as she was ever likely to be. It lasted for only a brief moment, then, with slight nod of acknowledgement, Ming turned her attention back to the stage. Kat’s heart was pounding, her pulse throbbing. She felt both excited and elated. In her own inimitable, grudging manner, Ming had paid her a small tribute. As Kat also turned to look at the stage again, she felt her face flush hot in response to an 302

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

indefinable concoction of emotions. Well over six feet tall, Saphala was a magnificent specimen of womanhood: long-legged with firm, muscular thighs and buttocks; a slender waist emphasized by strong, square shoulders and full proud breasts. With the exception of the stippled rose-tinted areolae that capped her breasts, her flesh was pale, in stark contrast with Kalima’s dusky skin tone. That all this was easily discernable was due to the fact that Saphala was almost as naked as Kalima herself. What little she did wear served only to accentuate her nudity — tight gloveless gauntlets, a broad collar and a sort of harness comprising shoulder straps connected to a belt around her waist. The belt was linked by metal rings to straps encircling the tops of her thighs, thereby forming a triangle that neatly framed the hairless swell of her exposed mons. These trappings were all fashioned from metal studded leather. The elevated heels of her sandals, which were laced to the knee, added another three inches to her already considerable height. Paradoxically, she had the face and beatific expression of a saint, seemingly incapable of even thinking, let alone acting in any other way than virtuously. And the paradox was heightened by the fact that her long flaxen hair hung in a ponytail that would bob and swing when she walked…or when she wielded the whip that now dangled from her hand to the floor. Princess Jozlyn said, “You understand, Saphala? She is to be punished, and part of that punishment will be her degradation. As my consort she enjoyed many privileges, including elevated status. Now she has reverted to slave and she should be made conscious of that fact. Hurt her, humiliate her, but do not damage her too much; we do not want to dishonor Lord Ramuk by offering him a tarnished sacrifice. She is a beautiful woman and I want her to remain thus.” Saphala nodded. “I understand, Highness.” 303

Judith Devere

“Of course, you may decorate her a little; I know it is difficult for you to practice your art without inflicting some superficial marking. But perhaps you can do that in such a way that it actually…enhances her appearance.” Saphala’s lips formed an austere smile. “I believe I know exactly what you desire, Highness.” “Good. Perhaps you can get her to dance for us, also; one of your specialties, as I recall.” Saphala bowed to the princess and strode up to the defenseless prisoner. Gripping Kalima’s jaw roughly between her fingers and thumb, she drew her face close to her own. “Did you hear that, slave?” she hissed through a voracious grimace. “Your princess would like to see you dance. A special dance I call the dance of torment. Of course you don’t know this dance yet; how could you? But don’t worry little one, you will learn it quickly.” Wide-eyed and trembling, Kalima looked terrified. “Oh, and gag her, Saphala. I don’t want to be distracted by her screams and pleas for mercy.” “Yes, Highness.” Saphala walked to a big chest set against the rear wall of the chamber, opened it and removed something from inside. Returning to Kalima, she held up the object in front of the miserable young woman’s face so that she could see it. It was a narrow leather strap, rather like a dog collar except that there was a woven leather ball fitted in the middle. “Open wide, slave.” Kalima stared at the ball gag with what looked like a combination of fear and loathing, but nevertheless opened her mouth obediently. Placing the leather ball between Kalima’s teeth so that her jaws were held wide open, Saphala then fastened the strap at the back of her neck. “Now, let us see if the gag is correctly positioned. Scream, 304

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

slave.” With this, Saphala seized Kalima’s left nipple between her thumb and index finger, twisting it viciously. Kalima squirmed, her brow contorting in pain, but the ball gag served its function well enough, reducing what would otherwise have been a nerve rending shriek to little more than a muffled groan of protest. Fresh tears spilled down Kalima’s cheeks, serving only to intensify the ravenous gleam in Saphala’s ice-bright gaze. Saphala began to walk slowly around her charge, eyeing her naked body up and down as if assessing a side of beef in a meat market. Kalima’s eyes followed her fearfully until the Dungeon Mistress disappeared from her line of vision behind her. All her observers saw Saphala take several measured steps away from Kalima, so that she now stood behind the trembling prisoner at a distance of about eight or nine feet. The whip she held in her right hand looked between ten and twelve feet in length, its long rigid handle bound with plaited leather. The tapering leather tail of the whip, also made of plaited leather, looked rather like a slender black serpent, especially when she drew its length toward her across the floor, as she did now. For long moment, she did nothing, only allowing her eyes to continue roving over Kalima’s body. When she finally did move, it was to raise the hand holding the whip to her right and behind her. It seemed little more than a casual, almost languorous gesture, but appearances can be deceiving indeed. As it turned out, what the audience was witnessing was an example of that phenomenon which sometimes characterizes the expertise of those who are masters — or mistresses — of their chosen discipline — that of making the difficult look easy. In Saphala’s case, the term “discipline” was more than appropriate, and her mastery of that discipline became instantly evident as she launched the whip effortlessly. With an audible whoosh the plaited leather tendril snaked through the air like an extension of 305

Judith Devere

her arm to curl around Kalima’s ribcage just below her armpit. At the tip of the whip’s tail, the individual strands of the plait were bound in a tiny knot from which the final inch or so of their ends emerged in a kind of leather tassel. It was this that snapped against Kalima’s right nipple like a bee sting, causing her to twist and wrench violently against her shackles. Despite the ball gag, her muted grunt of pain reverberated through the theatre. Smiling absently, Saphala drew back the whip again. For the next stroke, she took a small step forward, allowing the whip just enough leeway to reach across the front of Kalima’s body and connect with her left nipple. Again Kalima writhed and groaned her pain into the leather ball that held her jaws apart. Already it was apparent that the Dungeon Mistress was so adept with her instrument that she could deliver agony with the unerring precision of a surgeon. In the following succession of strokes, she proceeded to plant a series of agonizing leather kisses upon and around each of Kalima’s nipples and areolae. This had an extraordinary effect on the wretched woman. Deprived of the use of her arms and hands to either protect herself from the assault of the whip or ease her pain by rubbing the angry welts as they appeared, Kalima twisted and turned in her shackles, alternately raising her knees high in a pitifully hopeless endeavor to mitigate her ordeal. The dance had begun, and as Saphala began to walk slowly round Kalima, delivering strokes of the whip to each new selected region of her body, the tempo increased. Before long Kalima was dancing like a marionette with a madman at the strings. But though she jerked and leaped and writhed in response to each new crack of the whip against her naked flesh, Saphala found her target every time. As Kalima’s punishment continued, her body began to glisten with deepening veneer of perspiration, highlighting the fine tracery of dark welts with which Saphala was systematically 306

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

adorning her. Straining impotently in her shackles, she incoherently begged her tormentor for mercy, pleading with her eyes and long whimpering entreaties from behind the ball gag. She might as well have prayed to the whip itself. Saphala seemed to have achieved a trance-like state, raw sexual energy lighting her eyes now as the whip in her hand found each new, thus far untouched expanse of Kalima’s flesh. **** How long had Kalima’s ordeal lasted? Minutes? Hours? A lifetime? She could not have guessed. By now fine weals crisscrossed her breasts, her belly, her back, buttocks and thighs, the stinging pain from each blending into one that seemed to permeate her entire existence. But every so often, as if to remind her that there remained potential for unimaginable agony — and more — Saphala would land the tasseled tip of the whip directly on her momentarily unguarded sex. And though this hurt…oh how it hurt!…the Dungeon Mistress somehow administered these intimate strokes with a diabolically cunning technique that brought together all of Kalima’s pain and anguish, drawing it into a molten core of unendurable arousal deep within her vulva. Each time this happened, their eyes met, both women bound together briefly in a shared experienced and understanding. But there was to be no release for Kalima; she was here to be punished, and denial of the orgasm to the brink of which Saphala repeatedly brought her was greater punishment than even the pain. For Saphala, though, the moment of release was imminent. As foreshadowed by the narrator, her libido had fed and burgeoned upon Kalima’s suffering until it could no longer be contained. Like her victim, Saphala’s body now gleamed with perspiration too. Her nipples, swollen with arousal stood proud, thick. Her 307

Judith Devere

eyes were glazed, as if her soul had left her body. The smooth rhythm with which she had hitherto delivered the whip strokes had taken on a slightly ragged quality. Sensing that her ordeal might be nearing its conclusion, Kalima threw back her head and stared into the darkness above, every muscle and tendon in her body taut, every nerve singing her torment, tantalizingly close to the orgasm she would once again be denied. This seemed to be the moment Saphala had been striving toward. With a final flurry of strokes, her arm fell to her side, the whip slipping from her hand onto the floor. Hunching her shoulders slightly, she closed her eyes and shivered violently, at the same time setting free a long sigh. Kalima’s punishment was complete, the dance over. The curtain descended on the scene and the house lights came up, signaling the interval. The atmosphere was electric. The Vanderbrucks, especially, appeared stunned by the spectacle they had just witnessed, Margot’s arousal evident from the rose-hued flush upon her neck and cheeks. But then it seemed that the latest scene of the playlet had left no one in the audience unmoved — including, Kat noted with gratified surprise, even Ming and Christina SIN. It was not until the waiters streamed out onto the terrace to refresh drinks that a gradual murmur of conversation materialized, dispatching the odd silence that had persisted beyond the falling of the curtain on the developing drama. To Kat’s delight, the exclusive topic was the playlet itself, which won her a plethora of compliments, not only on the technical and dramatic achievement of the production, but also on its erotic impact. Ming was unusually gushing in her praise, particularly of Kat’s characterizations of Saphala and Kalima, and her concept of the “charming” dance the latter had been obliged to perform. The interval lasted about fifteen minutes, following which an expectant hush descended on the audience again as the house 308

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

lights went down and the curtain rose on the final act. In creating the extraordinary scene that now lay before the audience, Kat had artfully combined both conventional stage scenery with video footage to depict an outdoor location within the citadel of Mellundra. The huge video screen that had opened the playlet now formed a complete backdrop to the stage, the two coming together seamlessly to depict as the focal point a pyramidal structure at the center of a big circular concourse. A full moon cast the concourse and the surrounding sector of the citadel in pewter light. In the near distance, beautiful ornate stone buildings bedecked with terraces and hanging gardens flanked tree lined streets that spread out through the citadel from the concourse like the spokes of a wheel. From below, a low murmur rose from the crowd of men and women who gazed up at the open sided stone structure atop the broad level platform that was the summit of the truncated pyramid, this being the only part of the scene that existed in reality on the stage. Four tall, intricately carved pillars supported a domed roof, beneath which stood the reason for its existence. “Behold, the temple of Ramuk, God of fertility and, with the supreme Goddess Kai, dual guardian of Mellundra. Here, within the temple for all to see, he awaits his due — the virgin sacrifice.” In fact, there had been no need for the narrator to attract the attention of the audience to the temple and the representation of Ramuk within; all eyes in the house had been drawn irresistibly to both the moment the curtain rose. Kat had derived her inspiration for the mythical Mellundran people, their culture, architecture and their gods from various sources, including the Mayan, Aztec and mythical Amazon civilizations. The video footage had been created digitally in accordance with her vision by a small team of IT and graphics experts from Armand’s human resource pool. From a distance, the final product was 309

Judith Devere

realistic enough to be undetectable as artificially generated. But at least as impressive, in its own bizarre and wonderful way, was the construction of the God Ramuk, which had been created by another, equally talented, group of Armand’s artisans and technicians. It was this latter which now commanded the undivided attention of everyone in the house. Not exactly a giant, yet bigger than any man, Ramuk the God had the perfectly sculpted naked body of an Olympian athlete. That he was god rather than man was suggested, not only by his stature, but also by his disproportionately large head and the grotesque physiognomy of his face: the heavy, jutting brow, large aquiline nose and thick-lipped, razor-toothed mouth, open as if ready to roar a war cry or devour an enemy. But easily the most wondrous feature of his anatomy was the fertility god’s manhood — again, not merely because of its prodigious proportions, but due to the fact that the rapacious Ramuk possessed not one, but two sets of genitalia, one below the other. Both penises were erect and perfectly positioned for simultaneous double penetration. Ramuk himself reclined on a sort of stone plinth, his torso elevated on an inclined backrest so that he looked down his own body, as if admiring the twin phalluses at his loins. His legs, bent at the knee, straddled the plinth, his feet resting on the floor on either side. The god’s eyes glowed with a dull red light, as if from some internal fire, while smoke drifted indolently from flared nostrils and the corners of his mouth. Seemingly fashioned from polished bronze, his metallic musculature and fearsome countenance reflected dancing light from blazing iron braziers set at the four corners of the open temple. In order to afford the elite close-up observer an uninterrupted view of the sacrificial ceremony, four stone-hewn seats with armrests were set on the floor of the temple, two on each side of the reclining deity. There were three such observers now, Asheni and Sedemay occupying adjacent seats and Princess 310

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Jozlyn a third, opposite. Though none spoke, the faces of all three were taut with expectation, their eyes reflecting the flickering firelight from the braziers. A distant fanfare of ancient horns sounded, silencing the crowd in the concourse instantly. When the fanfare ended there was a moment of absolute silence before it was replaced by the faint musical strains of voices chanting from Carmina Burana. A stone trapdoor in the floor of the temple opposite Ramuk began to open. As it did so, four female warriors of the Royal Guard, swords drawn, ascended a staircase from within the horizontal doorway up to the temple floor. In their midst stood Kalima, who wore a long cape of shimmering gold material. As she emerged from the trapdoor her expression was almost serene, as if she were resigned to her fate and determined to address it with dignity. But then, as her escorts led her toward the plinth and the reclining figure of Ramuk, she beheld the terrible prospect of the twin phalluses. Her eyes widened in awe, and she faltered in her step, almost stumbling. One of the guards prodded her forward with the tip of her sword, only allowing her to stop when she stood at he foot of the plinth, almost within touching distance of the monstrous penises from which she seemed unable to wrench her horrified gaze. The guards looked expectantly at Sedemay, who in turn glanced across the muscular frame of the god at Jozlyn. When she nodded he raised a hand. “Let the sacrifice begin.” The two forward-most guards stepped up to Kalima and removed her cape, beneath which she was quite naked. A faint tracery of darkish lines marbled her thighs, belly, breasts, back and buttocks — the temporary legacy of the scourging she had suffered at the hands of the Dungeon mistress. Her arms were restrained behind her back, the forearms bound together by rope from wrist to elbow, and each of her nipples was held firmly in the grip of a silver clamp from which dangled a ring of 311

Judith Devere

the same metal. The rear guards now stepped forward, one producing two small leather bottles, the other some contraption of leather straps, buckles and a shiny metal bar. The guard holding the latter moved around behind Kalima and placed it over her head. Signaling Kalima to open her mouth, she placed the metal bar between her teeth before buckling the leather straps behind her head. Now the contraption was recognizable as a bridle and bit, the principle the same as that for a horse but designed in this case specifically for the human mouth and head. Reaching overhead, the guard grasped a sturdy metal clasp attached to a chain that hung from a narrow opening in the roof, where a collection of wheels and pulleys and cams was just visible beyond. As she fastened the clip to the back of Kalima’s bridle, the other guards poured fluid from the bottles onto their hands and began applying it to Kalima’s body. Asheni encouraged them in this task. “Yes, be sure to use plenty of the sacrificial oil, otherwise she will surely not survive.” Despite her obvious trepidation at the alarming ordeal that awaited her, Kalima could neither quell nor conceal her arousal as the guards anointed her with the oil, especially when they massaged it into the more intimate parts of her anatomy. And when they not only applied handfuls of oil to her sex and between her buttocks, but used their fingers to lubricate her internally in those places also, Kalima moaned and squirmed as much as the chain attached to her bridle would allow. When the guards had emptied both bottles, their two comrades led Kalima reluctantly forward and up a small set of stone steps onto the plinth. Prodding her forward with the tips of their swords against her buttocks, they positioned her so that she stood, trembling, astride Ramuk’s hips, the rampant bronze phalluses now directly beneath her. In this position the guards below locked her in 312

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

place by fastening her ankles into metal shackles that were fixed to either side of the plinth. Suddenly, Kalima flinched in shock and horror as Ramuk began to…move. Powered by some invisible mechanical means, his arms bent slightly at the elbows and rose two or three feet from the plinth. It was only now that Kalima saw the leather reins grasped in the god’s closed fists. Each terminated in a metal clip, which the guards on the plinth now attached to the rings on Kalima’s nipple clamps. Their work done, all four guards moved away to take up positions behind each of the stone seats. As she watched, Kat felt a familiar surge deep in the wellspring at the heart of her loins. Naked; bound, shackled, bridled and clamped, the prospect of Kalima — Camille — helplessly awaiting her fate, her perfect, oil-slick body lustrous in the flickering light of the braziers, was one of the most erotic sights Kat had ever witnessed. Glancing quickly around at her fellow observers, she saw from their rapt expressions that, without exception, they too were hugely aroused by the spectacle. The musical chanting rose a level in volume, underscoring the imminence of the pagan ritual that was about to unfold. Slowly, Ramuk began to lower and draw back his arms, the clenched bronze fists hauling steadily, insistently on the reins. Overhead, machinery whirred softly as the chain attached to her bridle paid out in counterpoint to permit Kalima’s descent. She gasped as the rings clamped to her nipples were drawn downward, leaving her with no choice but to lower her body. But even as she bent her knees, the knowledge of how this descent must conclude stirred within her a countervailing reluctance, and she sought to delay the inevitable by responding to the insistent tow of the reins as slowly as the burgeoning pain in her nipples would allow. Merciless, Ramuk continued to draw down the reins, stretching her nipples taut and evoking a pitiful whimper from her. The muscles and tendons in her neck and 313

Judith Devere

shoulders tensed and swelled like tiny serpents beneath her skin as she fought to balance the fire in her beasts against the threat of the prodigious pair of rampant bronze cocks that seemed to rear up between her thighs. But the result was pre-ordained, inevitable, and though she resisted, wailing now at the cruel distending of her nipples and breasts, the polished cock-heads loomed inexorably closer. Her brow furrowed in anguish as both made intimate contact with her naked flesh, the foremost against the slick surface of her labia, its twin with the dark recess between her buttocks. She would be thankful for the liberal oiling the guards had given her, Kat thought as the rounded tips of the phalluses began to nuzzle into her flesh, at once forcing open the portal of her vulva and the dark, star-like orifice that lay just behind it. Although the last thing in the world she wanted was to be sacrificed upon the fertility god’s brazen erections, Kalima began to rotate her hips, thereby actually easing their entry into her body. It was, she obviously realized, the lesser of two evils, since her ordeal would be infinitely more agonizing if she simply remained immobile while they impaled her. The demonic a capella chanting rose both in tempo and volume as the great rounded cockheads slowly disappeared inside Kalima, dilating her intimately, forcing the breath from her lungs in a long low rush. Her mouth fell open, and she began to pant rapidly over the tightly drawn metal bit. “Noooooo,” she wailed, the word unmistakable even though distorted by the metal bit between her teeth. As she witnessed Kalima’s anguished descent upon the bronze phalluses, Kat was reminded of what had inspired her in conceiving this fiendish form of torment — the impaling of his enemies by the mediaeval Transylvanian count, Vlad the Impaler, after whom the press had nicknamed Romanoff during his lecherous former career as a movie producer/director. There 314

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

was something deeply, almost painfully sensual about the prospect of Camille’s being so thoroughly ravished by the brazen representation of a pagan god; so sensual that Kat’s thighs had become warm and slick with the outpouring of her arousal from the tingling depths of her sex. Kalima continued to slide steadily down onto the phalluses, her lungs now sucking in air in a long high pitched whine as her buttocks drew closer to the quartet of metallic testicles at their base. And then, suddenly, the tension in the reins slackened, while that in the chain attached to her bridle tautened tugging her upwards again. And as she rose, the fleshy lips of her sex clung to the forward shaft, trailing behind like glistening pink snails unwilling to hurry. At the zenith of Kalima’s upward journey, just before the cockheads could pull free of her, the overhead chain slackened, and Ramuk pulled down on the reins again. Once more, she was drawn down by her nipples onto the god’s conscienceless cocks. This was how it was to be: Kalima forced to abet her own ruthless rape by the alternate downward stretching of her nipples and the relentless upward tow of the chain on her bridle. And as the cycle repeated, so the pace gradually quickened until Kalima was, by turns, rising and falling in the manner of a horsewoman in the stirrups. And as the pace incrementally quickened over long minutes, so did the tempo of the chanting. Kalima’s features contorted beyond all recognition as her ordeal ran its course, her naked body twisting and squirming, gleaming in the flames thrown by the braziers. Her voice, low and ragged now, no more than a stream of unintelligible grunts as she rose and fell like a woman possessed, as if her life depended on pleasing the implacable reclining deity between her thighs. And as the gleaming rigid cocks continued to ravage her helpless body with growing rapidity, Ramuk’s eyes glowed brighter, a low rumble seeming to emanate from deep inside his 315

Judith Devere

chest. At length, Kat grew concerned, then alarmed that Camille might not survive this terrible trial, that she might even die upon the cruel bronze pillars of the god’s manhood. She was almost ready to call for the playlet to stop when Kalima’s body suddenly stiffened, her eyes seeming to widen impossibly as a piercing scream escaped her bridled mouth. Then her eyes closed and her body sagged as if on the very brink of consciousness. Kat rose quickly from her seat, caught the eye of Ming who shook her head marginally and mouthed the word, orgasm. Resuming her seat, Kat watched Camille’s almost lifeless body continue to rise and fall upon the bronze phalluses as the machinery that had governed her movements over the past fifteen minutes or so slowed and eventually stopped. The curtain dropped to tumultuous applause in the small theatre, and when the house lights went up the audience were on their feet, several crowding round Kat with a host of plaudits and questions. Dom Perignon flowed and everyone seemed to want to discuss the playlet with her at once. But although she was pleased with her success — immensely so, in fact, — there nagged within her a frigid, numbing fear that she may have taken Camille too far. God grant that she hadn’t inflicted any lasting injury on her former lover.

316

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Fifteen

T

he following morning news reached Kat through Ingrid that, although she had been physically and emotionally devastated from her ordeal as Kalima in the playlet, Camille had suffered no serious injury. In recognition of her extreme suffering, however, Madam SIN had granted her leave to recuperate, which she was to spend aboard the Aphrodite at sea. When she heard this, Kat rather envied Camille; how pleasant to be aboard the magnificent barquentine now as it heeled in the wind under full sail through the aquamarine waters of the Caribbean. But that was not an option where Kat was concerned — at least not in the immediate future — because the other message Ingrid had brought her that morning was that she was to embark upon the next phase of her training that very afternoon. When Ming was not busying herself in her chambers in the depths of the chateau, she often worked in the small second floor suite she referred to as her studio. It was to this that Kat now made her way along the passageways of the chateau. “Yes, I’m here,” Ming’s voice from within confirmed in response to Kat’s knock at her door. “Come in.” Kat opened the door and stepped inside. In stark contrast with her gothic subterranean chambers, where the stone walls and vaulted roof were normally lit only by flaming torches, and her living quarters, which were a vivid contradiction of darkness 317

Judith Devere

and color, austerity and luxury, Ming’s studio was light and airy. Exposed wooden beams in the high ceiling supported a battery of spotlamps. The various sculptures and paintings that graced the master room were an eclectic mix, in that they included both “normal” subjects and those of an erotic and sado-masochistic nature. What they all had in common was exquisite artistic merit — the work of highly gifted sculptors and painters. Ming’s desk, the armchairs and sofa, and the various cupboards and storage units in the room were modern Scandinavian and comfortable looking. Thick pile rugs lay scattered about the polished pinewood floor. All in all, the complex, which included several smaller rooms containing an electronics workshop, an apothecary and a laboratory, was entirely at odds with the rest of the chateau, where the early eighteenth century character had been largely preserved. The studio, Ming had once explained to Kat, was a necessary alternative working environment for her. Occupying her various different roles in Armand Levequ’s service, she required the option of light, space and modernity in which to work, as well as the enclosed dungeon-like atmosphere of her domain in the bowels of the chateau. Kat understood this, but suspected that the dominatrix was more at home in the latter. Armand had permitted the studio’s departure from the general character of the chateau on the strict condition that no outsider ever be allowed access. Ming looked up from her desk as Kat entered the room. “Good afternoon, Kat.” “Good afternoon, Ming. I understand that I’m to commence the next phase of my training today?” Ming rose from her seat, the sun streaming through the arched mullioned window behind her throwing her into silhouette and thereby exemplifying Christina SIN’s sobriquet for her: The Dark Angel. 318

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Yes. It will commence in about forty-five minutes, but not here. I’ve ordered a coach and horses. Come.” Kat followed Ming into the passageway outside the studio. “May I know the nature of what I am to begin learning today, Ming?” she asked, as they walked. “Have you heard of nawa shibari?” Ming asked. Kat shook her head. “It sounds like Japanese food.” Ming laughed; an uncharacteristically carefree sound for one whose dark amusement was usually triggered by some poor wretch’s anguish. “You’re half right. It is Japanese, but not food. Although, on second thought I suppose you could call it food for the libido.” They were descending the stairs now. “Nawa shibari is the Japanese art of erotic rope bondage. Although, as you might expect, I am well enough versed in the techniques myself, I acknowledge that I have my betters in this very specialized field. Though competent, I am not a Sensei, as the Japanese Masters are known, which is the reason I am placing you in the charge of Sensei Saito Yasunari for the next stage of your enlightenment.” One of the Chateau Levequ coaches with four restless horses in the traces was waiting for them in the driveway outside the front door. The coachman raised his whip in salute to Ming as the two women climbed inside. Kat heard the whip crack over the horses’ backs as the coach heaved away, and wondered if the sound presaged a similar fate waiting for her at their destination. They began by following the route that would lead them to the village, but veered off along a smaller sidetrack flanked by the forest. After a serpentine mile or so, the trees thinned out to embrace a glassy lake with an island at its center. The track ended in a turning space about a hundred yards from the shore of the lake where the coach came to standstill. “This is it,” Ming told Kat, as the driver got down and opened the door of the coach for them. “Journey’s end.” 319

Judith Devere

Kat stepped down and looked about her. There seemed to be nothing here but trees and water. “This way,” Ming said, striking out toward the lake. Kat followed and as they neared the bank saw that there was a narrow, arched wooden bridge that led to the island in the lake. In contrast to the vast diversity of flora Kat had seen everywhere else on L’Île des Désirs, the island appeared to have been planted solely with willow, cherry and almond trees, many of which now hung heavy with pink and white blossom. Crossing the bridge, they followed a winding pathway through the trees until, about a hundred yards further on, they came to a broad clearing and a magnificent Japanese style edifice that was screened from the lake by the surrounding woodland. Whether it was a house or simply an ornamental pavilion Kat was not sure. Resembling a squat three storied pagoda, it lay among formal Japanese gardens of shrubs, flowers and weeping willows. The upper two stories of the building with their extravagantly overhanging upturned eaves gleamed gold, while the ornately carved woodwork of the outer ground floor walls red and black and gold. Ming led the way into the building through a doorway. Inside, they followed a dimly lit wooden corridor along which several doors were set on either side, eventually emerging into a huge room with a lofty ceiling supported at intervals by upright wooden pillars. Here, it was bright with sunshine, for two tall sliding doors which would normally cover almost the whole of one wall now stood open, giving access to a sort of wooden deck or veranda overlooking an ornamental pond and the gardens beyond. A number of big embroidered cushions lay on the floor in a wide circle, at the center of which stood one of the upright wooden support pillars. Overhead, high above the circle of cushions, a profusion of ropes, chains and wooden pulley blocks hung at different levels from the high ceiling. Within the circle was an assortment of items, including a number of neatly coiled 320

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

ropes, low piles of silk sheets of different colors, and some ancient looking Japanese style tables and benches of different shapes and sizes. There was also a small sofa upholstered in maroon velvet, and a freestanding wooden structure about six or seven feet in height that looked rather like a soccer goalpost, although the squared uprights and crossbar were almost a foot thick. On one side of the circle a small mattress covered in black silk was surrounded on three sides by a colorful profusion of fresh tropical flowers. Kat’s mind raced as she tried — and failed — to connect this eclectic arrangement of objects to some single purpose. The ropes, she assumed from what Ming had told her, must be the common denominator. “It seems we are the first to arrive, Kat,” Ming observed. “We may as well get changed.” Crossing the floor, Ming led Kat through a door into a smaller room, into which light filtered from outdoors through a window; filtered because, like the doors in the main room, the square wooden panes of the window were “glazed” with what looked like translucent paper. Wooden benches flanked the walls, in which little recesses contained neatly stacked piles of clothing. Ming reached into one of these and handed Kat a kimono, richly embroidered with oriental designs of flowers, birds and other creatures, and a pair of white cotton socks with a mitten-like split at the front to accommodate the big toe separately from the others. “Take off your clothes and put these on. No underwear.” As Kat complied, Ming selected a kimono and socks for herself and began changing also. Noticing Kat’s puzzled frown as she sat on a bench to slip on the socks, Ming said, “They are called tabi. The split is so that Japanese sandals may be worn over them, which is not actually necessary where these particular tabi are concerned because they have a very thin, flexible sole; a sort of two-in-one tabi boot. 321

Judith Devere

Like the kimono, wearing them is a sensual experience.” Kat had to agree, the cool silk of the kimono seemed to caress her flesh when she moved, and the exotic tabi boots somehow made her feel especially feminine. Minutes later, clad in their kimonos, Kat and Ming returned from the dressing room — for such it now appeared to be — back into the main room. Instructing Kat to remain there, Ming went off along the corridor by which they had entered the pavilion. When she had gone Kat walked out onto the deck and stood for while looking down at what she now saw was a fishpond where dozens of ornamental golden carp swam lazily in the shallow water. When Ming returned a few minutes later she was accompanied by a tall middle-aged man wearing what looked to Kat like some kind of martial arts costume: a loose fitting cotton jacket tied with a cloth belt over calf length cotton pants, all in white. His hair was drawn back into a short ponytail, and he wore a bandana around his head. From his skin tone, the upward sweep of his eyes, and the characters printed on his bandana, Kat presumed he was Japanese. “Kat, come and meet the Master, Sensei Saito Yasunari.” Kat crossed the room and held out her hand, which Ming brushed aside. “No, Kat. You must bow, like this.” Ming placed her hands on the front of her thighs and executed a short bow. Kat replicated the gesture toward the man, who acknowledged it with a similar, though not so extravagant bow. “Sensei Saito will be your instructor in the skills and practice of nawa shibari, or kinbaku, to give the art its vernacular name.” The Sensei looked hard at Kat, then smiled. “I think it will be a pleasure to train you, Kat. You do not, I suppose, speak Japanese?” “I’m afraid not,” Kat replied. 322

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Sensei,” Ming prompted. “Or Saito San — Mr. Saito. You must always address the Master with the utmost respect.” Kat instinctively bowed her head in apology. “I’m sorry, Sensei. No, I do not speak Japanese.” “No matter, it is not essential, but you will need to learn the glossary at least.” “I will do my best, Sensei,” Kat pledged, without the slightest idea of what that might involve. It hardly mattered, of course; as she had dutifully endured everything required of her since her life had been changed irrevocably that fateful night in the gazebo at Rylands, so she must continue to submit to the vicarious demands of Armand Levequ, however daunting they might prove. The Sensei nodded. “Come, let us begin with the basics.” Kat and Ming followed him toward the deck where more cushions lay on the wooden floor. Saito San sat on one of these, positioning himself so that he could simultaneously see both the gardens on his right and the interior of the room on his left. In response to his gesture, Ming and Kat sat on cushions facing him. “The art of nawa shibari, or kinbaku,” he began, “has its origins in the ancient Japanese practice of hojojutsu, a system of rope bondage techniques devised and employed by the military to either restrain or punish prisoners in ways that were profoundly humiliating and often excruciatingly painful. We Japanese have a reputation for cruelty in the eyes of some people, and perhaps there is some justification for that view. We are also, however, acutely conscious and appreciative of the erotic perspective of the human condition. For a significant number of Japanese, sexuality is more than just a vehicle for procreation and the satisfaction of carnal hunger. It may also be celebrated as an erotic art form, in which the basic principles of hojojutsu, adapted in a variety of exotic, intricate and ingenious ways, are applied to a willing subject — usually, but not always, female. There are normally two principals, or active participants 323

Judith Devere

in the celebration of kinbaku: the female subject — the uke in Japanese — and the rope artist — the nawashi. In Kinbaku the nawashi binds the uke, who is usually naked or partly so, with a rope or ropes. Depending on the desired result, the ropes may be applied to the uke’s body in a wide diversity of patterns, which are often very intricate and take a good deal of learning. In addition to the nawashi and the uke, there may well be spectators; in Japan, kinbaku workshops and displays have a popular following. “Depending on the individual, the objective of kinbaku may be its complete mastery, or merely an informed appreciation of the art for its own sake. Inherent and indispensable in that art is the sexual arousal of all concerned. In Japanese culture it is considered particularly humiliating to have one’s body exposed while helpless, as is usually the case in kinbaku. Perhaps this harks back to the time when hojojutsu was employed to subject bound prisoners to utmost humiliation. But humiliation involving enforced nudity…” Saito San looked at Kat knowingly “…as I am sure you have already discovered, is frequently attended by deep sexual arousal. During kinbaku the uke experiences this first hand; her observers and the nawashi, vicariously.” As Saito San was speaking, a number of men and women began to enter the room, either singly or in groups of two or three. After bowing to the Sensei, they moved on into the dressing room. Barely seeming to notice their arrival, Saito San continued with his dissertation. “There are an infinite number of rope patterns in kinbaku, some extremely complex. The effect on the uke depends on which of these the nawashi uses, but the overriding aim is to subject her not only to the psychological and emotional humiliation of helpless exposure, but also to erotic physical tension and pressure. There are various techniques for achieving this. For example, in upper torso bondage, the shinju or pearl 324

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

technique squeezes the woman’s breasts provocatively. The term shinju, by the way, refers to the woman’s breasts and nipples, both of which are likened to pearls. In the matawana or cherry technique the rope is bound around the uke’s waist, then drawn down through her naked crotch, sometimes with a knot strategically placed over the clitoris, before being hitched firmly back to the rope at the waist on the opposite side of her body. The karada technique involves binding the uke in a net-like body harness of symmetrically interlinked rope patterns. The ropes employed in Kinbaku, incidentally, are normally made of hemp or jute, though other materials may be used too.” Listening to Saito San, Kat felt as if she were back at university in the lecture theatre. She assumed that at some stage she would be tested on the terms he used and the techniques he described, and despite his liberal and frequent references to eroticism, she was too concerned with trying to memorize what he told her to be overly aroused by the concept of kinbaku. Her interest quickened, however, when he mentioned that the uke might be suspended above the ground while bound in asymmetrically contorted positions that were intimately revealing and therefore intensely humiliating. Kat had no idea how long her verbal introduction to kinbaku had lasted, but realized it had come to an end when Saito San said, “So, Kat…those are the basic principles and theory. Time now to study their practical application.” So saying, the Sensei rose from the floor. “Come.” Followed by Ming and Kat, he walked to the center of the room where the newcomers were now sitting silently on the circular array of cushions. There were ten of them — six men and four women — of obviously diverse ethnic origins. There were, however, no Asians among them, which surprised Kat because she had seen several oriental women enter the dressing the room while receiving her introduction to kinbaku from Saito 325

Judith Devere

San. The men in the circle wore Japanese sandals and male versions of the kimono in black silk, while the women were dressed in the same fashion as Kat and Ming in colorful feminine kimonos and tabi. Ming sat crossed-legged on one of the vacant cushions, signaling Kat to do likewise on the one next to her. Kat did as she was bid and, acutely conscious of her nudity under the kimono, smoothed out the silk over her parted thighs. Saito San walked around in the circle, inspecting the coiled ropes, piles of silks and cushions, and the various other items that were assembled like props backstage in a theatre. Then he walked among the hanging ropes, testing their tension and mobility as a church bell ringer might. This ritual took several minutes. When at length he seemed satisfied, he clapped his hands together loudly twice, then stooped to pick up one of the coils of rope from the floor. The door to the changing room opened and a very pretty, petite oriental woman stepped out. Probably in her mid thirties, she wore a bright blue silk kimono and tabi. Her lustrous blue/black hair was piled up on her head and held in place with two long ivory pins. She walked to the circle, stepped inside and bowed to the Sensei. Returning her bow, Saito San then scanned the observers as he said, “I have selected eight Japanese uke for today’s demonstration. This, the first, is Yumi. Observe carefully, for in the course of your service on the Island of Desires any one of you may be called upon to perform the role of nawashi. Some of you have already learned much; all of you have much yet to learn.” Turning to Yumi, he spoke softly in Japanese. In response, she placed her arms behind her back and bent them at the elbow to line up her forearms together horizontally. Stepping behind her, Saito San went immediately to work with the rope. “First,” he announced, “Yumi must be restrained, subjugated; her freedom of movement confiscated.” Yumi seemed to look out into space as Saito San’s fingers 326

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

moved over and around her wrists and forearms, his actions practiced, skilful as a virtuoso musician. Kat sensed that he could do this blindfolded and at speed, that he was deliberately slowing the process so that his students could follow his movements and try to memorize the intricate turns and loops of the rope. He bound Yumi’s forearms together tightly and neatly behind her back, the coils symmetrical like those of a python constricting its prey. Satisfied that her arms were properly restrained, he slipped the loose end of the rope through a triple loop between her wrists and walked around in front of her again. “Now, the shinju; the pearls.” Saito San raised his hands to take hold of Yumi’s kimono over her collarbone. For a moment he paused with something like theatrical drama, and it seemed as if his observers held their breath. Then, he parted the silk, slipping it off her shoulders to expose the woman’s lovely breasts; full and ripe, their paleness accentuated here and there by the faintest blue tracery of a vein, meandering like a river through a fertile plain; the nipples, rose pink atop generous, satin-like areolae. Saito San brought the rope up between Yumi’s shoulder blades, then down between her breasts. Kat found it difficult to follow how he accomplished it, but within a few minutes he had fashioned the rope into a sort of collar that fit close around her neck several times before linking it to the many coiled harness that now bound her upper arms to her torso. By design, he had constricted her breasts so that they squeezed, prominent, through the narrow gap he had allowed in the horizontal loops of rope above and below them. Clearly in some discomfort now, Yumi had begun to look distressed, her expression taking on the appearance of a martyred saint, though with clear evidence in the rose flush of her cheeks and throat that the cause was in no way inspired by religious zeal. 327

Judith Devere

Stepping back to consider his work, the Sensei nodded satisfaction, then said, “Now, the matawana.” Yumi flinched a little as Saito San pulled apart her kimono at the hips, laying bare the lower half of her body. Where the flat plane of her belly rose to become the mound of her sex, bare, smooth flesh gave way to a forest of glossy black hair, divided through its center by the dark purplish twin ridges of her protruding labia. Saito San drew the rope down and around to embrace Yumi’s slender waist, then took several turns around each thigh before looping it back up through the waist coils. Then, drawing the rope back down over her belly toward her sex, he carefully fashioned two large knots in the rope, one two or three inches behind the other. Yumi gasped as he eased the rope between her labia, then drew it tightly into the cleft of her sex and upward between her buttocks to meet the loop at her waist in the small of her back. She moaned as he tightened the rope so that the two knots pressed against her flesh, one upon her clitoris, the other into the opening of her anus. Kat shifted slightly on her cushion to ease the inevitable moist prickling in her own sex as looked at the anguished Yumi. Exposed thus, her breasts and sex fully on display, she might as well be naked to the hungry gaze of the watchers. And yet the fact that she still wore the kimono, albeit in a state of dishabille, seemed to render her infinitely more vulnerable and erotic than had she been totally nude. “Note,” Saito San urged those watching with rapt attention, how the rope coils are evenly balanced everywhere; perfect symmetry. It almost looks as if Yumi were wearing a rope harness that had been made for her. Observe also her expression. She is experiencing great shame and acute humiliation, but is also intensely aroused. She suffers willingly, in the knowledge that her suffering provides us with pleasure and satisfaction, as we shall see.” 328

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Now Saito San hauled down three ropes hanging from the overhead pulley blocks. One of these he attached to the rope at the back of Yumi’s neck, the other two to the coils around her upper thighs. “Each of these many ropes,” he explained, as he worked, “has a counterpart running through a sophisticated system of pulleys up in the ceiling. By adjusting these I can increase or lessen the tension of the primary rope, or move it laterally through the network of rails overhead.” As if by way of demonstration he adjusted the three hanging ropes he had just attached to Yumi. As he did so, she was simultaneously pulled backwards and up onto her toes by the rope at her neck, while the other two ropes, pulling in opposition to the first and each other, forced her hips forward and her legs apart. In this ungainly position, the knots pressing into her sex and anus were presented to the view of all watching, and as Saito San had predicted, the woman’s extreme arousal was evident from the glistening wet sheen of her inner thighs. “So much for Yumi,” Saito San announced. “Unfortunately for her, her trial will be the longest of all the ukes here today, since I intend to leave each in position until we conclude this session. As the first to appear, Yumi will suffer the longest.” On hearing these words, Yumi grimaced slightly, her brow contorting in anticipation of her extended ordeal. The next uke Saito San summoned was named Miko. Taller than Yumi with short cropped hair, she looked no more than eighteen or nineteen. In a way she was almost boyish, yet very beautiful with eyes like polished jet and full, sensuous lips. Her kimono, too, was beautiful: black satin with bright red embroidered hibiscus flowers. Miko stood before the Sensei now, her eyes trained respectfully on the floor. “Miko, as you can see, is very young. She is relatively new to kinbaku, but has, I believe, the potential to become an exquisite 329

Judith Devere

uke.” As he spoke, Saito San reached out to Miko. Slipping her kimono off her left shoulder, he then withdrew her arm from the sleeve, revealing in the process one small but perfect breast and its chestnut coned nipple. Then he reached below the ribbon-like belt of her kimono and pulled the garment apart to expose her naked thighs and the delta of her sex. If anything, the black pubic forest that graced her mons was even denser than that of Yumi who, like a marionette held in place by the ropes that bound her, still balanced precariously on her toes just a few feet away. Saito San gave a short command in Japanese. Miko bowed, knelt on the floor, her back straight, upright, then placed her arms behind her, the forearms horizontally together. Like Yumi before her, she seemed to stare into the distance at nothing in particular, as if she could see into another world. Selecting a rope from the floor, the Sensei began by binding her forearms together behind her back as he had done with Yumi. As he worked, her shoulders were drawn back and her right breast slid free of her kimono to join its naked twin. Saito San now bound each of Miko’s upper arms, first singly and then to her body as he began to form the shinju, layering the coils tightly around the upper slopes of her bared breasts. Moving down, he ran the rope around her torso repeatedly, threading it through itself across her back and around her arms, and adding a second of series of constricting coils to her breasts, this time below the “pearls” of her nipples. When the shinju was complete Miko’s breasts protruded through the narrow gap between the coils of rope above and below them, her nipples swollen and squeezed slightly out of shape. Her expression had already begun to assume the look of martyred anguish Kat had witnessed in Yumi. Bound in disarray to her body by the taut hemp ligature, her kimono now covered only her right arm and shoulder above the belt. Once again the Sensei, with cunning rope work, had emphasized the 330

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

uke’s nudity and vulnerability by juxtaposing it with the vestigial modest charm of her traditional costume. The effect was undeniably erotic. Now he positioned Miko’s knees wide apart on the floor with her ankles crossed, one on top of the other behind her. Having already neatly tied off the shinju rope, he selected another and began to bind Miko’s parted thighs at their confluence with her sex. He bound each of her thighs in turn with six or seven coils. Then, placing his hands on her shoulders, he pressed her down bodily so that the backs of her thighs came down firmly to press against her calves, the cleft of her sex and buttocks settling upon her left Achilles’ tendon and heel. She half closed her eyes, gave a little shiver as her body weight obliged the heel to nestle into the tender narrow isthmus between her sex and her anus. Saito San now bound each thigh and calf tightly together so that she could no longer rise to her feet if she so desired, but was forced instead to remain on her widespread knees. Then he roped her crossed ankles together and linked them through the coils that bound her forearms behind her to one of the ropes that hung from the ceiling. As he adjusted the tension of the overhead rope, it began to take her weight, almost, not quite, lifting her from the floor and forcing forward her hips so that she appeared to be shamelessly displaying her sex in a flagrant act of exhibitionism. “The purpose of this,” he explained, twanging the now taut rope like a bowstring and causing Miko to wince as her bonds cinched tighter onto her flesh in response, “is to exploit Miko’s own body weight. Notice how, as the upper rope takes the strain, gravity tightens the pull of the ropes that bind her, thereby adding significantly to her discomfort.” Effectively crippled by the ropes binding her folded legs, her lovely young breasts pinched tightly in the shinju, Miko presented a pathetic yet powerfully erotic spectacle. Her expression conveyed both abject shame and physical suffering, but her 331

Judith Devere

slightly parted lips and the faraway look in her eyes also betrayed her unmistakable arousal. The next uke to undergo Sensei Saito’s expertise in Kinbaku was Akira. Kat found it difficult to estimate her age, but judged it to be somewhere either side of fifty. Despite her maturity, Akira was exquisitely lovely, and had been blessed particularly with serene facial beauty. Her pale, porcelain-like complexion and fine high cheekbones, together with the upward sweep of her almond eyes, gave rise in Kat’s mind to the fancy that she could pass for a Japanese princess in different circumstances. Her hair, which was obviously long, was pinned up in lustrous black coils, somehow adding to her appearance of regal sophistication. Bodily, she was somewhat more voluptuous than her two predecessors, with rather broader hips and fuller breasts capped with malt-brown stippled nipples, which, upon Saito San’s instruction, she obediently exposed to the onlookers by unfastening her bright red and gold kimono and slipping it off her shoulders. Only her forearms, hooked into the sleeves, prevented the beautiful garment from falling to the floor. As with the other two ukes, Akira’s sable pubic hair had been neither shaven nor trimmed, but adorned her sex in its full silken glory. Saito San guided her between the uprights of the big wooden framed structure, positioning her directly under the center of the horizontal crossbar, onto which he fastened three lengths of rope, spacing them two to three feet apart. Using a fourth rope, he bound her forearms together behind her as he had done with both Yumi and Miko, this being the precursor to the shinju, which followed. Because of their ample proportions, though, Akira’s breasts underwent more profound distortion as the upper and lower coils of the shinju squeezed them laterally so that the nipples became engorged with blood, swelling and expanding both in area and prominence. A frown of what Kat imagined to be both pain and discomfort contorted her features, dispelling her 332

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

expression of serenity as Saito San tied off the shinju rope behind her, then drew it taut and knotted it to the middle of the three ropes hanging from the beam above her. This done, he moved around to her right, stooping to take hold of her right leg, just below the knee. Lifting her leg until her thigh was parallel to the floor, he took hold of the rope hanging from the beam immediately above, wound several coils around the limb at the mid-thigh point and knotted it tightly in place. Thus, Akira was obliged to stand unsteadily on one leg as Saito San moved around to her left. She gasped, then frowned in anguish as he lifted her left leg from the floor and the two ropes already securing her to the beam took her full weight. Taking care to ensure that her left thigh, too, was parallel with the floor, he secured it within several coils of the third dangling rope, which he then knotted elaborately. He stood back to appraise the fruits of his artistry, seemed satisfied, as indeed, Kat thought, he might. Suspended from the beam by the three ropes, Akira looked as if she were sitting astride an invisible, unusually broad-backed horse. The ropes tied to her thighs drew them wide apart, laying open to view from various vantage points every aspect of her sex and the dark, starpuckered orifice between her buttocks, while the rope fastened to her bound forearms allowed her torso to tilt forward very slightly, as if she were bowing to the Sensei. The kimono hung from her back in crimson parody of a wedding train in suspension. That Akira’s senses and emotions were in uncontrollable ferment was more than evident from the tormented expression on her face, and perhaps Kat might have pitied her had not her own emotions been swamped by overwhelming arousal at the sheer carnality of the other woman’s plight. Over the course of the next hour, another five Japanese ukes were to be subjected to the wickedly delicious demands and 333

Judith Devere

torment of kinbaku at the hands of Saito San, whose skill and ingenuity in the art, it seemed, knew no limit. None of the ukes, Kat noticed, looked at each other as they were variously bound, suspended, contorted in a catalogue of ungainly and humiliating postures. In fact, they fastidiously averted their gaze from all other individuals in the room, as if suffering in isolated confinement. Only Yumi, Miko and Akira began their ordeals dressed in traditional Japanese dress. Midori, who was fourth in order of appearance, entered the room quite naked. Slender as a nymph, with breasts no more developed than a pubescent girl — although she was clearly in her twenties — she was to undergo rather minimalist nawa shibari. Having placed a silk sheet on one of the low tables, Saito San had her kneel up on the table while he bound her wrists to her ankles behind her so that her body formed something like a circle. Then, having made her part her legs as far as she was able in this position, he drew the rope from her left ankle underneath the table and out the other side before fastening it to the right. Next, he took one of the ropes that hung from the pulley blocks high overhead and looped it around her waist. When it was knotted in place, he hauled the rope back up by several feet where he fixed it in place, thereby lifting Midori bodily and forcing her to arch her spine and hang her head down behind her as gravity made the circle of her body almost perfect. Only her knees and shins, which still had some contact with the silk covered tabletop, mitigated the upward tow of the rope from which she hung over backwards from the waist, her hair just brushing the soles of her feet. Kat tried vainly to swallow her arousal as she stared at the lovely young Japanese girl, her tiny breasts stretched taut, nipples like hard little buttons, and her widespread thighs exposing her out-thrust sex to optimum observation by those watching the display. Like Midori, Sadako entered the room completely naked 334

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

when summoned by Saito San. An innocent looking girl with exceptionally long legs and delightful breasts that resembled halflemons in shape, Sadako had been chosen by the Sensei to be the first uke of the day to demonstrate the remarkable visual effects that were possible through conflicts of symmetry in kinbaku. The nawa shibari began with his first binding her upper arms singly, then to her body against her ribs in a series of rope coils that simultaneously trapped and compressed her breasts in the shinju. This done, she was required to kneel on a silk covered bench. Although now greatly restricted in her ability to move her arms, Saito San had avoided binding her left forearm, thereby leaving some small degree of mobility in that respect. Thus, when he eased her forward, still kneeling, down onto the bench, she was able to support her upper body, albeit in an ungainly fashion, by her right shoulder and her left hand, pressed flat upon the table. Saito San drew the rope from the shinju to her waist, which he encircled with several coils. Then, having tied a single knot, he fed the rope through the V of her parted thighs to form the Gstring-like matawana. Carefully peeling her labia apart to lay the rope along her sex, he half smiled with satisfaction when he saw that he had positioned the knot perfectly — so that it pressed directly upon the fleshy nub of her clitoris. Sadako arched her back, uttered a little groan of arousal as he pulled the rope tightly into the cleft of her buttocks then tied it in the small of her back to the coils encircling her waist. Selecting another, shorter rope, he wound five turns of one end around the top of Sadako’s right thigh, knotting it in place beneath her buttock, then linked it down across the right angle formed by her upper and lower leg in the kneeling position, to form a triangle. After winding five more coils round her ankle, he drew the rope tight and fastened it to the nearest leg of the table. Now he lowered one of the hanging ropes and bound her left 335

Judith Devere

ankle with it. Stepping back, he took hold of the corresponding counterpart rope and began to haul up the rope securing her ankle. Very slowly, he increased the tension, drawing Sadako’s left leg higher until it was almost vertical and her back was arched like a bow. She groaned softly, like a woman experiencing the first contractions of childbirth. Saito San took a few minutes to direct his devotees’ attention to the dramatic visual contrast between the ritualistic symmetrical beauty of the ropes, layered and coiled with perfect precision around the uke’s body, and the ungainly, revealing contortions they obliged her to endure. It was, he noted, almost as if, in temporarily rendering the uke a helpless erotic cripple, the ropes stole part of her beauty and grace, transferring it to themselves instead. Although she listened, tried to absorb his words and their import, Kat was extraordinarily aroused and had great difficulty concentrating — a problem, she realized, most of her male fellow observers suffered also if the bulges under their kimonos were anything to go by. The final three ukes, Saito San explained, would demonstrate that modern day western attire could be as equally suited to kinbaku as traditional Japanese dress, although he conceded that there were “purists” who did not subscribe to this view. For her part, Kat was soon convinced. Kiku, an almost matronly woman of about forty, was not exactly beautiful, nor would “pretty” have been an accurate adjective to apply to her; rather, she might best have been described as a “handsome” woman. She reminded Kat of the aunt of one of her old school friends who had become a nun — and on whom Kat had developed an embarrassing and, then, very worrying teenage crush. Like Akira, she had a fuller, Junoesque figure; by no means overweight, but certainly more comely and voluptuous than Midori, for example. She wore a white blouse with a frilled collar and cuffs, a charcoal gray pencil skirt, black 336

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

stockings and black patent leather high heeled shoes. Entering the circle, she bowed respectfully to the Sensei who led her to the black silk covered mattress among the flowers. Reaching for her blouse, he deftly unbuttoned it down the front and slipped it off her shoulders. Next he unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor on top of her blouse. Her undergarments comprised a midnight blue camisole, adorned with cornflower blue and white lace flowers, and matching briefs. A slender garter belt, also in midnight blue, supported her stockings. She looked aside demurely as Saito San slipped the straps of her camisole off her shoulders, pulling it down to free her breasts, which were larger and heavier than any of her predecessors. He picked up one of two ropes lying on the mattress and moved round behind her. Within minutes, he had looped the rope around her neck and down around her breasts, crafting a sort of halter that incorporated the shinju. Unlike the others Kat had seen him create, though, this shinju not only squeezed Kiku’s breasts laterally, but encircled each one separately as well, causing them to swell and balloon individually, and evoking a pained cringe from Kiku as he tightened the rope. Using a second rope, he lashed her wrists together behind her back and linked them to the halter between her shoulder blades, then led the rope to each upper arm in turn, running a number of coils tightly them. At the Sensei’s behest, Kiku first knelt, then moved awkwardly to lie on her back on the silken mattress among the flowers. Saito San knelt beside her. Gripping the waistband of her briefs, he slid them down over her stocking clad thighs and calves to her ankles, exposing her smoothly shaven sex in the process. Slipping the panties off her right foot, he raised them back up her left leg, to leave them lying loosely around her thigh. Recognizing the ploy, Kat almost smiled. It was Ming who had demonstrated and explained to her how the powerful visual imagery of a naked or near naked woman with her panties 337

Judith Devere

hanging loosely around one thigh or ankle could be devastatingly erotic, suggestive, as it was, of forced or desperately wanton sex. Now Saito San drew down the rope ends down from Kiku’s upper arms, and, bending each of her calves back against her thighs in turn, bound them in that position in a series of complex coils and knots. He rose and studied the woman lying before him, as if considering how to continue. Kat’s blood pounded in her ears as she looked at the lovely uke, her folded and bound legs splayed apart to reveal the pink folds of her sex, glistening now with her arousal. After a moment or so, the Sensei, knelt beside Kiku again, running a new rope around her waist then knotting and feeding it between her thighs to form the matawana. Kiku arched her back, moaned softly as he pulled the rope taught into her slit, the knot nuzzling firmly against her clitoris. Now Kat understood the rationale behind the flower arrangement. It was a blending of the two Japanese arts of ikebana and kinbaku, the objective one of contrast again: the juxtaposition of natural beauty and elegance inextricably entwined with raw carnality. The overall effect was erotic beyond words. Saito San, Kat was beginning to understand, was truly a Master of his art. The appearance of the penultimate uke took Kat by surprise. Aya was dressed as a bride in a white satin and lace wedding dress, arm length white satin gloves, a muslin veil and white satin shoes. Her pale pink lipstick seemed to emphasize her aura of youthful innocence and naiveté. She looked young, demure and vulnerable, which was obviously exactly what the Sensei intended. Kat recognized the potential at once: erotic contrast again, the fragile concept of purity about to be despoiled by the reality of sadistic lust and wantonness. Shifting position slightly on her cushion, she watched with breathless anticipation as Saito San flicked open the downward slanting row of satin buttons at Aya’s right shoulder to expose a perfect pale breast tipped by a 338

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

dark nipple. That she was not wearing a brassiere added to the impact, as the Sensei stripped away the first layer of the illusion of innocence. He brushed the dress off both her shoulders, baring her other breast also. Moving faster now, the rope seemed to flicker through his fingers as he bound her breasts in the shinju. This time he fastened the rope so tightly that the twin globes of voluptuous flesh actually swelled to assume the shape of pearls, the analogy heightened by the fact that her skin, stretched taut in the process, took on a lustrous, nacreous sheen. Kat found the effect strangely beautiful, but the anguished grimace on Aya’s countenance nevertheless fired her arousal to a new level. When Saito San lifted up Aya’s dress above her waist, it became instantly apparent that she wore no underwear whatever, only self-supporting lace stockings, the pristine whiteness of which contrasted starkly with her luxuriant pelt of night-black pubic hair. A few deft turns of the rope secured her wrists and upper arms together behind her back before the Sensei encircled her torso with three or four tight coils. Thus, the lovely Japanese bride stood before her master and his students, her wedding dress bound to her half naked body in lewd disarray, her sex and tightly roped breasts on full view. Now, he led Aya to a large red silk cushion, upon which, in obedience to his command, she lay on her right side. Again, Kat noticed that Saito San was moving more swiftly than previously, as if time were somehow running out. She saw him glance at the hapless Yumi, whose expression conveyed the full extent of her suffering. How long a woman could remain in such extreme bondage without suffering injury, she had no idea, but Sensei Saito seemed to be conscious of Yumi’s plight and, she supposed, would intercede before the woman faced any real danger. With one of the shorter ropes, Saito San bound Aya’s right 339

Judith Devere

ankle to her upper right thigh, drawing the rope taut so that her calf was doubled tightly against the thigh. Then he added several knotted loops around both, though it seemed to Kat, solely for aesthetic reasons, since the first loop alone would have made it impossible to free her leg anyway. Raising her left leg, he tied the ankle to one of the hanging ropes. Hauling on the corresponding rope from the pulley block overhead, he drew the leg upwards until it was vertical and at right angles both to her torso and her bound left leg. Kat noticed with a delicious thrill how Aya’s face darkened in an oriental blush as the lips of her sex parted to offer an unobstructed prospect of the gleaming pink well of her vulva. On this occasion, at least, the “bride” truly had something to blush about. Turning quickly aside from the tightly trussed Aya, Saito San announced the final uke of the day. Tsuyu was tall for a Japanese woman. She had a lithe willowy figure and small, girlish breasts that were surmounted by the thickest, most prominent nipples Kat had ever seen. This latter fact was immediately apparent from the moment the uke entered the room wearing only shoes, stockings, a garter belt, long evening gloves and a pearl necklace. The shoes, garter belt and gloves were an identical shade of claret, as was her lip gloss. Her hair hung straight and sleek to her waist, its inky blackness perfectly complementing the dark amber tone of her flesh. She walked across the floor from the dressing room with noticeably more confidence and flair than her predecessors, the clicking of her five-inch heels on the wooden floor echoing from the walls. Around thirty, she was strikingly beautiful — and knew it, which, Kat presumed, was why in contrast to the other ukes she exuded rather more pride than humility. A near smile flickered across Saito San’s lips as Tsuyu halted before him, bowed her head economically. “Tsuyu,” Saito San explained, “is by no means new to 340

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

kinbaku, but she has yet to surrender herself completely. As you may have noticed from her very deportment, she is proud, almost to the point of arrogance. But I enjoy a challenge, and will slowly bend her to my will entirely; it is just a matter of time. And this point is a lesson in itself, for the uke must not be pushed too far too quickly in kinbaku. Like a thoroughbred filly, break her will too quickly and you may destroy the very qualities which attracted you to her in the first place.” Tsuyu’s breasts were too small to be pinched into the shinju to any real effect, but Saito San went through the motions anyway, the rope framing rather than squeezing the modest mounds. This time, he employed a different technique in binding her forearms, having her place them behind her neck where he roped them together with a dozen symmetrical coils, then drew them down between her shoulder blades. Despite her otherwise apparent indifference to the ordeal on which she was embarking, a small spontaneous whimper escaped her lips as he drew the rope taut from her wrists to the small of her back, where he twisted it and looped it around her waist several times before securing it in an elaborate knot. Now the Sensei backed the uke toward the wooden pillar in the center of the circle of cushions. After tying a length of rope through a metal ring fitted to the pillar about eight feet from the floor, he grasped Tsuyu’s hair and plaited it into the rope, again using a complicated knot to hold it fast. For some reason she did not fully understand, the fact that the proud Tsuyu was now held captive to the pillar by her own hair prompted a surge in the already ample ooze of arousal from between Kat’s thighs. The pulleys in one of the overhead blocks creaked as Saito San pulled down the loose end of one of the hanging ropes, which he then drew between Tsuyu’s thighs from the front, then up behind her to the metal ring. Having secured the rope to the ring, he steadily increased the tension in its counterpart. The 341

Judith Devere

rope between Tsuyu’s thighs slipped easily between her labia, the increasing tension forcing it firmly into her cleft. She gasped, her eyes widening suddenly in shock as if she had been dowsed in iced water, but Saito San was unmoved. As the rope grew tauter yet, Tsuyu strained to rise above the five inches of height already provided by the heels of her shoes as she sought to mitigate the cocktail of pain and arousal which her expression left no room for doubt was what she was experiencing. If the diminutive size of Tsuyu’s breasts had spared her the anguish of having them squeezed in the shinju, her remarkably protuberant nipples all but begged to balance the account. Reaching into the piles of rope on the floor, Saito San retrieved a slender leather cord that looked rather like a very long bootlace. Moving up close to Tsuyu, he took hold of her left nipple between his finger and thumb and stretched it taut, she biting her lower lip to prevent herself crying out. He wound the leather cord tightly around it, beginning close to the areola. After binding the nipple with three or four tight loops, he fastened it in firmly place with a knot. When he had bound the other end of the cord to her right nipple, he drew down another of the hanging ropes, to which a small metal clip was attached. After clipping the leather cord to the rope, he worked the counterpart, both increasing the tension and moving the overhead pulley block horizontally along a sliding rail until the rope was at about a forty-five degree angle to Tsuyu’s breasts. Her lips drew back in pain, a ragged, guttural protest reverberating deep in her throat as the rope tightened, stretching her nipples cruelly. Now Saito San allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction at the tears that welled in her eyes before spilling onto her cheeks. Leaving Tsuyu to her anguish, the Sensei turned slowly through three hundred and sixty degrees as he addressed the observers. “That concludes my instruction for today. However, I realize, 342

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

that none of you will have been able to follow and memorize every detail of the nawa shibari you have just witnessed. The ukes will, therefore, remain restrained for a while so that you may move among them and study at close quarters the various techniques I have employed. But first, a little refreshment.” He clapped his hands together as he had done to summon each of the ukes. This time, though, a different door opened to admit another kimono clad Japanese woman to the main room. Carrying a round tray, she moved into the circle of cushions and bowed to Saito San who took one of the varied collection of small earthenware cups from the tray. “Join me in a cup of sake.” The men and women who had watched the Sensei’s demonstration so avidly, now rose from their cushions and helped themselves from the tray. Kat, however, was handed her cup by Saito San himself. The sake was warm, its effect almost instantaneous as Kat took her first sip. She turned to look at Ming, whose knowing smile confirmed her suspicion that the Japanese rice wine — Kat’s at least — had been “treated”. Ming raised her head a little, unequivocally adjuring Kat to drink up. Strangely, Kat didn’t need any encouragement; the sake had already enveloped her in a pleasant mantle of euphoria. Whatever was in the drink was the fasting acting of all the mind altering concoctions she had experienced on the island. “One more thing,” the Sensei announced. “In addition to inspecting my work, you may feel free to make full…use…of the ukes while they remain bound. The role of these women, ultimately, is to provide sensual pleasure through self-sacrifice, so they should not be left…unfulfilled.” Like the others, Kat walked among the still restrained ukes as she drank her sake. Within minutes she had floated into a strange dream-like state, her senses and emotions heightened by the mysterious additive in the sake. Her fellow students, flaunting 343

Judith Devere

their freedom of movement and consent, were examining the helpless ukes minutely; tracing with their fingers the intricate layers of rope bound tightly to naked flesh, attempting to unravel and reconstruct with their eyes the complex, Gordian-like knots. But as the inspection progressed, it grew increasingly intimate and sexual in character as both men and women began to take up Saito San’s invitation to make “full use” of the lovely Japanese captives. As she drifted among the fettered females, Kat was reminded of the analogy that had formed in her thoughts earlier — that the naked and near naked women, hamstrung and in some cases partially suspended by their bonds, were like beautiful erotic living marionettes whose sole raison d’être was to provide carnal pleasure through their suffering. All about her now, Kat could hear the soft, plaintive utterances of the ukes — little cries and gasps and whimpers — as the students progressed in their intimate exploration of helpless and exposed bodies: willful hands tugging at the constricting bonds; wanton fingers variously caressing or squeezing plump breasts, pinching swollen nipples, probing here and there a slick, tender sex. The floor was soon littered with kimonos, the students largely abandoning them the better to take their pleasure of the captive ukes. The room and its bizarre array of human forms seemed to revolve around Kat, as if she herself were a prisoner in a carnal kaleidoscope. Erotic images, crystal sharp, etched themselves on her mind, in her libido, the scene vaguely reminiscent of a Hieronymous Bosch painting, but without the dire grotesqueness. A blonde haired woman, kneeling upright between Akira’s widespread thighs, was feasting hungrily — and noisily — on the suspended uke’s sex, while frenziedly strumming at her own sex with shameless fingers. For her part, Akira writhed and groaned, her face contorted in torment or arousal or, perhaps more probably, both. 344

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

An anguished sigh on Kat’s right was suddenly stifled. When she turned to look the reason was manifestly obvious. Midori, her naked form a wheel of human flesh suspended from the ceiling, could not have been more perfectly positioned for the purposes of the two men who were now slaking their lust in her. One, a tall, slender young man with a rigid and disproportionately large penis, had thoroughly impaled the uke, his hips moving back and forth in a steady rhythm. And in his own quest for release he was coincidentally adding to his accomplice’s pleasure also, for standing opposite him on the silk covered table, an older man had his own penis deeply buried in Midori’s mouth. Each forward thrust by the man between her thighs, therefore, forced the other man’s cock between her lips into her throat while, since her head hung upside down behind her, his testicles slapped rhythmically against her eyelids and forehead. Kiku, meanwhile, lying trussed in camisole and stockings among the flowers, was the subject of a muscular Negro’s attentions. On all fours between her thighs, he had eased aside the double knotted central rope of the matawana in order to gain access to her sex with his mouth. There was something almost charming about the way, for all his size and physique, his tongue flicked delicately back and forth in her vulva like a hummingbird supping at a tropical flower. In response, Kiku shook her head frantically, uttering breathless entreaties in Japanese — whether of protest or encouragement was hard to tell but, with a small pang of envy, Kat guessed it was the latter. Without any sense of purpose, Kat seemed to float above the ground through the various tableaux of carnality until she found herself standing by the red silk cushion upon which Aya lay. There was something deeply earthy, a raw sexuality about Saito San’s use of the virginal bridal costume with Aya, and as Kat looked down at the uke now she felt almost overwhelmed with 345

Judith Devere

sensual excitement, as if the slightest touch upon her clitoris would trigger an orgasm. The white satin and lace dress gaped open, laying bare Aya’s splendid breasts, which had darkened somewhat with engorged blood in the constricting shinju. She was entirely vulnerable, one leg bound double beneath her, the other hauled vertical by the rope linking her ankle to the ceiling. Her sex, which had opened like a delicious oyster when the Sensei first stretched her into this shameful posture, was now skewered upon a hugely erect cock with a pronounced cutlasslike upward curve. Its owner, a dark-skinned Latino with curly hair and smoldering eyes was on his knees, violently fucking her to the rhythmic slapping beat of flesh on flesh. And now the beautiful bride something more to blush about, not just because of the way she was being thoroughly ravished, but because someone — perhaps this man, perhaps another — had, in part, already discharged his passion in her mouth, the remnants now clinging in gobs and viscous strands to her face, hair and breasts. Fearing as she watched that soon, even without any physical stimulus, merely watching the spectacle on the silk cushion might be sufficient to make her climax, Kat was about to move on when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned, the room swirling in a blaze of colors and images as she did so, and found herself looking at Ming. Although Ming’s lips moved, Kat did not consciously hear what she said, and yet the words behind the mocking smile formed in her mind articulately enough. “Time to play the uke, Kat. Come, the Sensei is ready for you.” Only now did Kat realize that she had known deep inside that this moment would come, but had hitherto chosen not to acknowledge the fact. Meekly, she followed Ming to the center of the room where Tsuyu remained bound by her hair to the wooden pillar, standing on tiptoe astride the hemp matawana that cleaved into her sex. The once proud uke’s expression of 346

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

agonized submission left no room for doubt now that she had undergone the transition Saito San had predicted. Just a few feet away from Tsuyu, a cluster of ropes hung from the ceiling, their ends almost touching the floor. Amid these stood the Sensei himself, several lengths of coiled rope at his feet. He said nothing, did not move, but simply looked at Kat as if willing her to read his mind. Kat looked from Saito San to Ming, whose expression betrayed nothing of her own thoughts. Glancing around the lofty room, Kat noticed for the first time that she, Ming and Saito San were the only three who had not abandoned their kimonos…yet. Feeling lighter than air, her mind whirling, Kat walked toward the suspended ropes to stand in front of Saito San, who, seemingly gratified by her unquestioning obeisance, dipped his head in a marginal nod of acknowledgement. Reaching out to her, he grasped her kimono by the lapels. She sighed as he very slowly drew the silk apart to uncover and expose her breasts. Behind her, Ming took hold of her arms, bending them forward and up from the elbow. Her purpose in this became clear a few seconds later when Saito San brushed the kimono off Kat’s shoulders and the upper part of the garment slipped to her midriff where it hung, bound to her waist by the belt and hooked, stole-like, around her forearms. Saito San bent to the floor, picking up one of the coils of rope. Kat took a deep breath at the realization that he was about to imprison her breasts in a shinju. His fingers and the slightly coarse texture of the hemp brushed her nipples, seeming to charge them with electricity as he began to apply her bonds. Binding her right upper arm in several coils, he then linked the rope across and around her breasts to her left, where he bound her other arm also. Aligning her lower arms together behind her back, he drew the rope around and bound them together in a dozen symmetrical coils before tightening and knotting the rope, 347

Judith Devere

thereby cinching her breasts in the figure of eight loops he had wound around them. She winced as the blood circulation to and from her breasts became restricted by the shinju, causing them to darken slightly and swell beyond their usual ample proportions. Her nipples, too, responded to the increased pressure, hardening and growing to prominence. But the shinju was not yet complete. Saito San wove the rope back and forth around her neck, between her arms and her torso and around her breasts again in an intricate web of fibrous hempen rope. When he had finished, she glanced down at the mastery of his art. Although slightly painful and uncomfortable, and, yes, she had to admit it, very arousing, the visual effect was quite stunning. Restrained by the shinju, her breasts and nipples had undergone the transformation from mere flesh and blood to beautifully erotic living pearls — the eponymous shinju personified. She had little opportunity to reflect on this phenomenon, though, because Saito San was busy with his ropework again, this time attaching the junction of complex knots between her breasts to one of the overhanging ropes, which he then drew taut obliging her to stand on tiptoe. Now, the Sensei took another rope from the floor and bound it in multiple loops around her hips, buttocks and upper thighs in a matawana that vaguely resembled a climbing harness. The absence of a length of rope between her labia and buttocks, as he had used with several of the ukes earlier, invited particular attention to Kat’s sex, which he had lain bare by drawing aside her kimono below the belt. After attaching the front of the matawana to one of the three remaining hanging ropes, Saito San fastened the other two to her thighs, just above her knees. Stepping back a pace, he began to pull on the various counterparts of the ropes that now connected Kat with the ceiling. Her heart leaped as her legs were drawn from beneath her and she was lifted off the floor. 348

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Now her senses were reeling. She swung helplessly back and forth and from side to side as the Sensei adjusted the ropes until he appeared satisfied. Suspended, face up, by the ropes, she hung three or four feet above the floor, although her shoulders and head were about a foot lower than her hips. The ropes attached to her thighs pulled in opposite directions, so that her legs, bent at the knee, were stretched wide apart, opening her cleft and unequivocally offering her sex both to view and physical access. The silken kimono — nothing more than an erotic embellishment now — hung from her arms and waist to brush the floor beneath her, as did her hair. A fitful breeze drifted into the room from the garden beyond the open doors to play capriciously over Kat’s exposed flesh. Although intrinsically imbued with the sun’s warmth, its caress cooled on contact with the moist veneer of her arousal that had oozed from her sex onto her inner thighs, causing her to shiver and her nipples to harden like polished coral. It was a strain to hold up her head in this inverted posture, and so she let it hang toward the floor. Trussed helplessly and suspended thus from the ceiling, her intimate body parts exposed unequivocally, Kat had never before felt so vulnerable…or so sexually delirious. Her senses were inflamed beyond all reason, so that she yearned to be filled, to be skewered upon hard masculine flesh. She had not long to wait. Feeling the unmistakable coarse caress of male hands on her widespread thighs, she lifted her head again to face the prospect of the Sensei now standing between them. He had shed his clothing, and as Kat had imagined, his broad, squat body was solid, his dense musculature sculpted as if from mellow antique ivory. As sturdy and solid as the man himself in its unequivocal erection, his penis seemed to strain toward her. It was, she thought, a magnificent cock, and in her present state of intense arousal Kat wanted it…desperately. 349

Judith Devere

For what seemed a long time, no one moved. It was as if the Sensei was waiting for something, some sign or trigger. Then, instinctively, Kat somehow understood what was required of her. “Please, Sensei,” she breathed. “Please.” Behind and above her, Ming looked down at Kat and smiled a smile that was at once both smug and…predacious. Saito San wasted no further time. Gripping her thighs just above the knee, he stepped forward and impaled her in one long easy stroke. “Oooohh.” Kat’s raw, primal bellow exploded from her lungs as the Sensei drove into her. Then, as he slowly withdrew, she gulped in a deep draught of air. But this, too, was driven from her body in a deep guttural groan as he entered her again. With the measured cadence of a locomotive picking up speed, Saito San began to fuck Kat in a way she had never been fucked before. Piston-like, his cock slithered back and forth in the snug grasp of her sex, driving her inexorably toward the release she ached for. Unable to hold up her head any longer, she let it fall back toward the floor again, surrendering herself to the quickening of his rhythm. At some point, although her senses were in turmoil, she became vaguely conscious of the soft warmth of naked female flesh on either side of her body. With an effort, she raised her head again and saw the two women, both of whom had observed the Sensei’s kinbaku master class with her earlier. One was blonde, young and lovely with small firm breasts and prominent nipples; the other older, with a Latin complexion, full breasts and dark, liquid eyes. Both women began to kiss her breasts, licking the areolae, nibbling gently at her nipples. Kat was able to bear this additional assault on her senses for only a few seconds. She shuddered and bellowed as violent orgasm overwhelmed her. But even as the last ripples of her climax subsided, leaving 350

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

her breathless and trembling, the apparently unappeasable cock between her thighs began to drive her senses to renewed arousal. Her head hanging toward the floor, mouth gaping, Kat gazed through half-closed eyes at Ming’s inverted image as the woman shrugged off her kimono, then turned her back on her. Naked now, Ming stepped backwards to stand astride Kat’s head, her feet apart so that her calves brushed against her shoulders. Kat stared up between Ming’s thighs at the prospect of the other woman’s smoothly shaven sex, which like her own, glistened with her arousal. Reaching down, Ming seized Kat’s hair and hauled her head up between her thighs. Kat sighed, then moaned as Ming’s sex brushed wetly against her face. She inhaled deeply, drawing into flared nostrils the other woman’s intimate feminine essence, then parted her lips to drive her tongue between the slippery pendulous labia. In response, Ming growled, tugging at Kat’s hair and crushing her sex against her face. Undeterred, Kat began work her tongue furiously over the nub of Ming’s clitoris, pausing now and then only to drive it deep into her vulva. Not satisfied with Kat’s ardent endeavors to pleasure her, Ming began undulate her hips back and forth, brushing Kat’s face with the wet heat of her burning sex. Kat’s faculties were in riotous anarchy. Intoxicated and exhilarated, her senses of smell and taste had been galvanized by the exotic effusions of Ming’s arousal, while her very womb thrilled to the quickening thrusts of Saito San’s cock, and her nipples seemed electrified by the eager suckling of the two women kneeling beside her. The ropes seemed to bite deeper into her flesh as her arousal grew. A series of orgasms, small at first but increasing in intensity with each successive climax, began to engulf her until finally the Sensei erupted, hot and copiously, inside her. At the same moment, as if at a given signal, the gentle nibbling at her nipples became firmer as each woman 351

Judith Devere

bit down and tugged the tender flesh aside, sending slivers of exquisite anguish from her breasts to the heart of her sex. Kat sensed that this savagery was preordained, that no serious harm was intended or would result, and in that knowledge surrendered her soul to the most nerve rending, all-consuming implosion of sexual ecstasy she had ever experienced. For one fleeting fragmentary fleck of time, Katherine Mandell truly cared not if she lived or died.

352

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Sixteen

K

at lay naked on the lush turf, the sun warm on her body, infusing her vision with bright red-gold light through the filter of her closed eyelids. The sound of bird song mingled with the constant gurgling of water as it cascaded down through the narrow gorge via a succession of small pools and falls. She sighed with pleasure, first at the sheer delight of being back at Halcyon Falls, then more urgently in response to the gentle brush of the woman’s face against her inner thighs, and the caress of warm moist breath upon her mons and labia. She moaned deliciously, smiling as she reached down to comb her fingers through the woman’s silky mane. “Mmm, yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes, darling.” The imperative produced its intended consequence, and Kat arched her back as the woman’s lips pressed against her sex, then parted to allow a small pink tongue to slither into her slit. “Oh, God!” she cried, as the questing tongue located and began gently grazing at her clitoris. “Oh, yes, yes, yes.” Her eyes now half-open, Kat curled up from the grass to look down her body and meet Camille’s gaze. The magnificent mulatto swirled her tongue around the periphery of Kat’s sex like a hungry man wiping his dinner plate with a slab of bread, then probed the silken grotto of her vulva, thrusting deep into her center. 353

Judith Devere

“Oh, God, Camille.” The words tripped tremulously from Kat’s lips as spasms of pleasure rippled through her. After feasting extravagantly on Kat for countless moments, Camille withdrew from her Mistress, her smile provocative, almost smug and certainly accentuated by the slick veneer of Kat’s arousal that now adorned her lips and cheeks and chin. Again Kat raised her head to look the mulatto in the eye, her shoulders twitching and rounding convulsively as if in response to a series of electric shocks. Biting her lower lip, she fell back upon the turf again as Camille gripped her ankles, pushing her thighs apart and pressing them back against her body, the better to open her up. Lowering her head, Camille drew her tongue languorously from Kat’s tailbone, through the valley of her buttocks into the divide of her sex, this small pilgrimage of desire leaving a glistening trail in its wake as evidence of its passing. For long moments, Camille delved, licked, probed and flicked with her tongue, employing every technique she knew to drive the other woman to ultimate pleasure. Then, as Kat’s voice rose in pitch, her small entreaties more desperate, Camille withdrew her mouth, and in a dexterous, well practiced movement, swung her right thigh across Kat’s belly to mount her loins, sidesaddle. Gripping Kat’s calves just below the knees, she drew her into the V of her own thighs until her sex conjoined with Kat’s, their outer lips meeting in an urgent kiss of moist, sweet intimacy. Now they lay together, writhing on the green sward like two sub-species of beautiful serpent — the one pale honey, her partner brown sugar — mating in the afternoon sun; both equally oblivious to the swelling clamor of their passion, alien, exotic in this lush cleft in the mountainside. Camille came first, Kat seconds later, their orgasms overlapping, shared for a few ecstatic moments. And when her climax had run its course — a process that lasted for several minutes from onset to full recovery — Kat raised herself on one 354

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

elbow to look down at Camille lying flat on the grass. The mulatto, her eyes closed, expression serene now, might have been asleep were it not for the telltale rapid rising and falling of her breasts from exertion. Perhaps sensing that she was being observed, Camille opened her eyes, and for a moment Kat was so struck by her dark angelic beauty that she almost cried. “So, my darling,” she said, softly, “you really do forgive me for what I did to you.” Camille seemed about to smile, but did not. Instead, her eyes welled up with liquid gravity, the dark pupils contracting against the glare of the sun. “The playlet? Kat, I told you last night, it isn’t my place to forgive you…or otherwise. I regard you as my Mistress now...if you’ll have me as such.” “I have already assumed that role by my actions. I believe we have forged an unspoken understanding in that regard?” “Yes, but…” “But what?” “That I accept you as my Mistress, and you regard me as your submissive is legitimate, I think, because Madam SIN has given you the right to subject almost everyone on this island to your authority and demands. But mutual acceptance of our respective roles is not enough to give you exclusive domain over me, which is what I truly desire. As things stand at the moment, anyone in authority here may do with me as he or she wishes without any reference to you. Of course, if it were up to you I would never presume to object if you chose to allow others to use me; that would always be your right, but I want the decision to be yours, so that in submitting to another’s desires I know I am serving you. At the moment you do not have the right of total possession over me, but if you were to effectively own me, no one would be able to touch me without your consent. To assume that right you would have to collar me, and I don’t know if Madam SIN would 355

Judith Devere

allow that.” Kat hadn’t thought that far ahead, but recalling her instruction from Ming in such matters, she knew that Camille was correct. For a Mistress — or Master, for that matter — assuming exclusive possession of a submissive or slave entailed the Dominant’s offering, and the submissive’s accepting a collar, usually but not always made of leather, symbolizing authority and submission, the one over the other. The collar need not necessarily be worn at all times, but the symbolism of its existence was a powerful one. “You’re right. I had forgotten. But I’ll speak to Christina tomorrow, see if she will agree to my collaring you for my own.” “I do hope she does. I don’t mind what is done to me, or who does it, as long as I know it is what you wish and is done with your consent. I need to know that whatever I am obliged to submit to is ultimately for you, either directly or indirectly.” “Oh, my sweet, sweet Camille,” Kat whispered, lowering her head to kiss Camille softly on the lips.” Camille sighed, smiled blissfully. “But now tell me how you feel about what I did to you in the playlet.” “Accepting you as my Mistress…as I do…I must accept whatever you choose to do to me…and I do. I am yours to do with as you will and I am content with that — truly. I believe it’s what I wanted almost from the moment we first met, when you came to Chateau Levequ and I was assigned to be your maid. But that aside, I believe you had the right to take revenge on me anyway for betraying your confidence over Jacob to Madam SIN. I got no more than I deserved.” “If I am your Mistress, then you are my subject; subject to my will in all things. That may be difficult; painful and humiliating at times. You’ve seen what I am capable of now, Camille.” “I understand and accept all that, but if there can be 356

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

moments like this, when for a while at least we can just be lovers, I will be more than happy.” Kat smiled. “Ah, Camille, you are such a gem. Of course there will be moments like this; many of them. And if…or when…I hurt or ill treat you, you will know that it is not because I don’t cherish you.” “I know. I understand the implications — perhaps even better than you do yourself. Here, in the service of Armand Levequ, you are still discovering the real you, a journey not yet over, I think.” Kat knew that Camille was right, and that she probably did understand what was happening better than Kat did herself. Already Kat had become the switch Madam SIN had anticipated, but as Camille had so shrewdly observed, the process was yet incomplete. “I put you through a terrible ordeal as Kalima.” Camille inclined head her fractionally in acknowledgement. “Yes, Kat, you did. It was the most difficult trial I have ever had to endure. But I deserved it. I suspect I suffered no more in my sacrifice to Ramuk than you did to Jacob.” She smiled, ruefully. “They are, after all, both extraordinarily well endowed.” “Ramuk doubly so,” Kat countered, reflecting Camille’s smile mischievously. They both laughed, for an ephemeral moment like schoolgirls sharing a risqué joke or a confidence. Then Camille said, “I can laugh now, but it was more than a week before I could sit comfortably for any length of time. I have never been more thoroughly violated.” “And yet you can forgive me.” “As I said, it was no more than I deserved. Besides, you know what it’s like for people like you and me. Pain, shame, humiliation; we feel these things as normal women do, dislike, even loathe them on one level. But on another level, a deeper, 357

Judith Devere

more profound level, we derive true fulfillment — pleasure if we are fortunate — from their experience. As Kalima the sacrifice, I suffered more than I have ever done before, but the orgasm that overwhelmed me at the end was the most wonderfully satisfying I have ever experienced.” “I’m glad for that,” Kat said, wondering if she would ever truly understand the phenomenon that permitted her to take sexual pleasure from inflicting pain and anguish on another woman — especially one she loved. It was, she thought, better not to try, but rather to simply accept her destiny; the reality of her true self. For many minutes she continued looking down at Camille, whose eyes gradually closed again, her smile relaxing into nonexistence with the onset of post coital slumber. Let her sleep awhile; the day was theirs and there was all the time in the world. Kat lay back on the turf herself, resting a forearm across her eyes to shade them from the sunlight. Three weeks had passed since the playlet, and during that time Kat had spoken with Camille only in her formal capacity of Head of Household, Camille never addressing her with anything less than the utmost respect. It was as if nothing had happened that night in the theatre. The Vanderbrucks had left the next morning, profuse in their expression of appreciation and gratitude to Armand and his entourage, and with special thanks to Kat for her role in the fulfillment of their aspirations. Like Kat herself, their lives had been changed forever by their visit, and there was no doubt in her mind that they would take advantage of Armand’s invitation to return some day to L’Île des Désirs and Chateau Levequ. Kat’s resumption of her former relationship with Camille had been inevitable, she now realized, but it had taken until yesterday evening for a catalyst to spark the transition. Kat had been out riding in the afternoon and had misjudged the time. It was late 358

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

when she returned to the chateau, her way lit by a waxing amber moon. Madam SIN and the others would have eaten hours earlier, and there seemed little point in dressing for dinner alone in the dining room. But the fresh air and exercise had stimulated Kat’s appetite, and so she ordered supper in her suite. She was more than a little surprised, however, when she answered the door to find that the dinner trolley had been brought by none other than Camille herself. For a moment the two women simply looked at each other. It was Camille who eventually broke the silence. “I’ve given Ingrid the evening off, Miss. There’s a big party on in the village. Some of the other servants have gone too. The others are…” she briefly broke eye contact “…um…busy. So I…” “I see, “Kat said, at length. “Well, bring it in. I’ll eat on the balcony.” “Yes, Miss.” As Camille wheeled the trolley to the balcony, she said, “I’m sorry I’m not dressed appropriately. It’s late and I was about to go down to the village for a while myself when you rang. I thought it better to get dinner to you quickly rather than waste time changing.” Sweeping her with an appreciative glance, Kat replied, “That’s all right Camille. It was the right thing to do. It’s late and I’m starving.” In fact, Kat realized, Camille must have been confident she would have no objection to the way she was dressed. It was first time in weeks that Kat had seen her in anything other than the smart but sober attire she wore as Head of Household. Now, she wore a button-front shirt in pale blue lace, the top two buttons unfastened to display more than a glimpse of her ample dark satin breasts. The dark blue pinstripe skirt she had selected to go with it was the perfect complement: very short with a sexy side 359

Judith Devere

slit and a floral embroidery motif that matched the color of the shirt exactly. She wore no stockings. Kat herself felt self-consciously under-dressed in Camille’s presence. Having just showered, she wore only a silk bathrobe, which she now pulled close around her. She followed Camille out onto the balcony, took her seat at the dining table. Watching her set the table for dinner, she began to feel the old familiar yearning blossom somewhere in her womb. God, the mulatto looked stunning this evening…but then didn’t she always? When Camille had finished setting the table, she asked, “Wine, Miss?” “What did you bring?” “I thought a choice of Burgundy: a white Chevalier Montrachet and the red, Romanée Conti La Tâche.” “Perfect, I’ll have a little of both; the Chevalier Montrachet with the oysters and La Tâche with the pheasant.” “Yes, Miss.” When Camille had served Kat’s oysters and poured her a glass of the white Burgundy, she took up a position to Kat’s right, slightly behind her chair, ready to top up the wine glass and provide anything else she might require as she ate. The food and wine served at Chateau Levequ was never less than excellent, and despite the lateness of the hour this evening’s repast was outstanding, and as Kat ate — and drank rather more than she’d intended — a pleasant feeling of wellbeing began to envelop her. By the time she was ready for dessert, she felt positively euphoric, and leaned back in her chair the better to admire Camille as the Head of Household served the Crêpes Suzette. Had it not been for the extraordinary effect of the wine, the ice between Kat and Camille might never have melted. As it was, the prospect of the mulatto alongside her now — dark, slender, beautiful and, more significantly perhaps, seeming to exude almost palpable sexual energy — had become too much for Kat 360

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

to bear. Her feet slightly apart, Camille dipped from the knee, at the same time leaning forward to place Kat’s dessert before her. In the process, she suddenly froze. “Miss…,” she gasped. “Please.” “What is it, Camille?” Kat asked, innocently, having just — not so innocently — slipped her hand between Camille’s legs from behind. Her palm now lay on Camille’s left inner thigh, just above the knee. Camille was trembling slightly, not looking at Kat. “I’ve been watching you, Camille; the way your skirt fits you so well, clings to you. There’s no panty line. Are you wearing a thong? Or…nothing at all?” “Miss, I…” “You know, I don’t believe you’re wearing any panties.” Kat slid her hand a little higher up along the smooth expanse of Camille’s inner thigh. “Am I right?” Camille stiffened, swallowed hard. “Please, I…” “Well, if you won’t tell me, I shall just have to find out for myself, shan’t I?” “I was getting ready to go out when Rachel told me that you’d ordered supper. I didn’t want to keep you waiting so I went and got the chef at once. In the rush I must have… Ooooh!” Camille’s aborted excuse coincided with the confirmation of Kat’s suggestion that she was naked beneath the short skirt, Kat brushing with her fingertips the other woman’s labia, which, as they were so charmingly wont to do, protruded from the smoothly depilated repository of her cleft. Kat smiled slyly. “In the rush….what?” “I must have…forgotten. Ooooh. Aaaah.” Camille threw back her head, hunched her shoulders mid-sentence as Kat’s middle finger slipped easily into her sex. “Forgotten? I don’t think so, Camille. I believe you meant to go out with no panties on. The idea aroused you, did it?” 361

Judith Devere

“Pl…please…Miss. Oooooh” Camille was squirming uncomfortably now as Kat’s fingers riffled back and forth along the length of her butter-slick slit. Kat’s smile had gone now, displaced by an accusatory grimace. “Planning on whoring yourself down at the village, were you?” Her senses were inflamed beyond her comprehension, her face and throat flushed. She rose from the table, knocking her chair over as she did so, and pushed Camille roughly back against the balcony wall. “You horny little slut.” Kat’s voice was suddenly husky, the words aggressively aspirated. “No, Miss, I…” “No, Miss?” Kat hissed, gripping the hem of the Camille’s skirt. “No, Miss?” The skirt riding higher, Camille’s hands fluttering ineffectually at her sides. “Yesss, Miss!” And then, in an instant, Camille’s skirt was bunched up around her waist, her lovely sleek thighs and sex unveiled to Kat’s hungry gaze. Kat’s eyes glittered with unrestrained lust as she grasped Camille’s shirt at the front. Wrenching with both hands, she ripped the shirt asunder, freeing the dark luscious breasts that lay beneath. “No underwear at all. My, we are forgetful aren’t we, Camille? Hardly becoming for the Head of Household, wouldn’t you say?” Before Camille could answer, Kat tugged at the belt of her robe, shrugged the silk from her shoulders. The gown whispered down her body to crumple at her feet, leaving her naked. Gripping Camille’s wrists, she pinned the other woman’s arms up against the wall as if in crucifixion. Slipping her knee between both of Camille’s, she urged the mulatto’s thighs apart. Camille’s eyes were wide now, almost fearful in the face of Kat’s sudden primal sexual aggression. She seemed to be gasping for air, her café-au-lait glossed lips working silently. Leaning into her, Kat pressed Camille’s near naked body with her own, their 362

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

breasts and nipples crushing together. Tilting her head to one side, Kat covered Camille’s mouth with her own in a violently sensual kiss. Camille whimpered as Kat bit her lower lip, as if testing the resilience of a grape, the taste of blood infusing now into the already heady sensual cocktail of intimacy between the two women. Prolonging the savage kiss, Kat breathed heavily into Camille then sucked air back from her, while at the same time slowly gyrating her hips against hers so that each woman’s pubis, rendered glassy with the product of their arousal, slid repeatedly over and around the other’s. When at last Kat broke the kiss, Camille gulped a great breath of air. Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment Kat thought she was going to faint, but then she seemed to recover with a delicate shiver, as if she were awaking from hypnosis. But Kat allowed her no time regain control of her senses. Kissing first her throat then her shoulders and breastbone, Kat lowered her body down Camille’s, flesh grazing naked flesh. When her face was level with the other woman’s breasts, she paused to pay homage to the dark proud nipples, first kissing, then licking and finally biting them so as to evoke a little cry from deep in Camille’s throat. As she slid down over the plane of Camille’s belly, her tongue fluttered, gossamer light against her skin, a harbinger of ultimate intent. On her knees now, Kat planted little kisses over the swell of Camille’s mons, slowly inching lower, lower, until… “Oh, Katrina! Oh! Aaaah!” Camille shook her head from side to side, her features distorted in rapture as Kat impaled with her tongue. Setting her feet further apart and bending from the knees, she slid down the wall a little to allow Kat optimum access to her center. Kat, tilting back her head and slipping her arms and shoulders under Camille’s thighs, shrugged the other woman onto her mouth, the better to explore with her tongue every facet of the woman’s arousal flooded vulva; to feast at the intimate core of her 363

Judith Devere

womanhood, devouring her feminine essence. Rising onto the balls of her feet, her calves taut, Camille began to rock her hips back and forth, brushing Kat’s face with the liquid caress of her sex. Every movement instinctive now, Camille’s body had gained total control over her mind. Her voice a shrill, ragged thing; begging, moaning, pleading. Words that were not words, had no sense in their construction, but were sublimely eloquent and unequivocal in their expression. And then, with a long, low wail, Camille’s body began to convulse, her thighs gripping Kat’s face in a voracious embrace as orgasm engulfed her. When the final tremors of Camille’s climax had subsided, Kat emerged from between her thighs, her face glassy, flushed. Rising to her feet, she took Camille’s face in her hands. “Let’s go to bed.” And go to bed they did, but they did not sleep until golden fingers of red tinged dawn reached out across the Caribbean to deliver L’Île des Désirs from night’s dark womb to the sunlit embrace of day. As she relived in her mind these events of the previous night and earlier that morning, Kat too drifted off to sleep on the grass. When she awoke, the sun hung low in the western sky, and Camille was sitting at her side, smiling down at her. “We must have been out for hours,” Camille said. Kat yawned, stretched. “I don’t care. It was totally delicious sleeping here, naked in the sun.” “Yes, catching up on what we missed last night.” Kat pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Speaking of which,” she said. “Isn’t it odd how, after weeks’ estrangement, as it were, we came together again so easily last night?” Camille didn’t answer, merely looked at Kat with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Kat frowned. “What?” “You still haven’t realized yet.” 364

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“Realized? Realized what?” “Oh, Kat, you may be the Mistress, but you aren’t in control all the time, you know.” “I don’t understand. What…?” Camille grinned as comprehension began to dawn in Kat’s expression. “You set everything up,” Kat said, aghast. “Ingrid didn’t have a night off at all, did she? You deliberately stood in for her.” With an arched eyebrow, Camille invited Kat to continue. Kat blushed selfconsciously. “You scheming little bitch!” Camille laughed. “Aren’t I, though?” “How could I have been so naïve? I never dreamt you had engineered the entire thing.” “We wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of our being…estranged…any longer.” “But how could you be so sure that I would take the bait?” Camille’s smile widened as she ran her tongue coquettishly over her lips. “Does the number…forty-six…sound familiar?” Kat gasped. “You mean…” Camille nodded. “Ming’s potion. The very one you made me take in my wine on the evening of the playlet. I pulled the same trick on you last night.” It was Kat who laughed now. “You minx! You played Mistress like a hooked trout. I’m ashamed of myself for being taken in so easily.” “I know I shouldn’t have done that to Armand’s fine Burgundy,” Camille acknowledged, her expression suddenly earnest, “but I was desperate.” Kat took Camille’s hand and rose from the grass, drawing her to her feet also. Looking deep into her eyes, she said, “I should thrash you for this, Camille.” “Are you going to? I don’t mind if you do. It will be worth it just to be back with you again.” 365

Judith Devere

Kat looked at her for a long moment, then shook her head. “No. Not this time. I’m glad you did what you did. I’ve missed you too.” She leaned forward, kissed Camille lightly on the mouth, then glanced up at the westering sun. “Come, we’d better get moving. It’s getting late.” The two women walked hand in hand across the clearing and around the lowest of the aquamarine pools that were fed by the mountain stream. The horses, tethered in the shade at the edge of the forest, seemed pleased to see them. Camille reached for the saddlebag that contained their clothes, but Kat stayed her with a hand on her arm. “No, not yet, Camille. I enjoy being naked. Let’s ride this way; we can dress when get near to the chateau.” And so they mounted and rode naked, like magnificent young goddesses, through the startlingly beautiful wilderness of Halcyon Falls, Kat pale against the golden coat of the big palomino stallion, her companion’s dark form contrasting even more so with the pristine white flanks of the smaller mare.

366

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Seventeen

K

at made her way purposefully along the corridors of the chateau to Madam SIN’s suite, where she tugged on the bell sash beside the big oak door. “Come.” Although recognizable, Madam SIN’s voice was muffled by the thickness of the door. Kat turned the ornate iron door handle, pushed the door open. In contrast to the muted light in the corridor outside, the room was bright with morning sunlight. “Kat. Good morning, my dear. We didn’t see you at breakfast this morning.” Christina SIN, dressed this morning in a simple black skirt and white blouse, pushed aside the paperwork she was scrutinizing, rose from her chair behind the antique desk and walked around to greet Kat with a kiss on the cheek. “Double checking the accounts,” she explained. “The worst part of my role here. It isn’t really necessary, of course — our trusted resident professionals prepare them — but I try to maintain an overview on all matters here on the island, no matter how mundane. I feel I owe it to Armand.” She shrugged. “Whatever… I’m glad you came; it’s given me an excuse to take a break. How about some tea on the balcony?” “Yes, thank you. That would be nice.” Madam SIN rang the servants bell, then led the way onto the 367

Judith Devere

expansive balcony where, as always, Kat was exhilarated by the spectacular vista down the mountainside and out across the beautiful bay far below. Following Madam SIN’s example, she sat at the circular glass-topped coffee table set among a profusion of potted flowering shrubs at one end of the balcony. “So…what can I do for you, Kat?” “I have a favor to ask of you, Christina.” “Oh? Well, if it’s within my power and it doesn’t involve any conflict of interests — with the terms of your indenture to Armand, I mean — I’ll give it my serious consideration. What is it that you want?” Kat looked down at her hands. “You remember we spoke some time ago about my potential ability to switch — in terms of sexual domination and submission, I mean — and we agreed that I should go on to explore the dominant aspect of my personality.” “Of course. And I’m pleased to say that I have been very gratified by the progress you seem to have made in that regard. My confidence in your potential was clearly well-founded.” Kat turned her gaze to meet Madam SIN’s again. “Thank you. I dare to hope that I am steadily evolving to become a reasonably competent Dominant; a Mistress, that is.” Madam SIN nodded. “I would certainly support that view.” Kat took a deep breath. “Well…” “Yes, go on Kat.” “Please don’t think me ungrateful, Christina. I mean, I know that I’m already very privileged in having authority over the vast majority of men and women on this island, which is probably more than any Mistress could ask for. They are all available to me, should I choose to subject them to my modest expertise, and I shall of course continue to exercise that privilege, both for my own personal…” Kat felt herself flush hot “…gratification…and in order to strive for the degree of excellence I know you wish 368

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

me to attain. I…” She faltered, realizing that Madam SIN was regarding her with a somewhat bemused expression. The inevitable blush blossomed hot at her throat and in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Christina. I hadn’t meant to deliver a speech. It’s just that…” “Ah, tea,” Madam SIN said, in response to a knock at the door to her suite. “Come in,” she called. It was the maid, Brenda, who had been a catalyst in Kat’s transition from submissive to switch, and a milestone on her journey toward becoming a fully-fledged Mistress. On seeing Kat, the maid blushed and half smiled as she nodded to both women and said, “Madam SIN, Miss Kat.” “Thank you Brenda,” Madam SIN said. “Just put the tray on the table; we’ll serve ourselves.” “Yes, Ma’am.” Brenda set down the tray and with a final brief glance at Kat, left the suite. “Pour, would you please, Kat? Cream and one sugar for me.” When Kat had poured tea for both of them, Madam SIN picked up her cup and saucer, sipped her tea and then said, “You were saying?” “Well…I wondered if you would…allow me to acquire a personal, dedicated submissive; one who would be willing to subject herself to my exclusive authority in terms of sexual compliance and subservience to my demands.” There…it was out. Madam SIN’s eyes widened, though whether with surprise or mere interest it was impossible to judge. “You wish to…collar someone?’ “Yes.” “Obviously it must be someone in Armand’s service, and that would be most unusual. Who is the object of your desire, Kat?” Kat felt her heart pounding; she hadn’t expected this moment 369

Judith Devere

to be quite so tense or stressful. “It’s…Camille” “Ah, yes, how slow of me. I should have known at once. That relationship has been an eventful one, has it not? And despite her betrayal of you, and your exacting revenge on her through the playlet, I remember thinking that there still seemed to be a powerful bond between the two of you. Does she know of your wish?” Kat nodded. “Yes, we have discussed it in detail. She desires it as much as I.” Madam SIN did not speak for several minutes. As she sipped her tea she stared out at the hazy blue Caribbean, seemingly lost in thought. When at last she broke the silence, it was to say, “This is one decision I cannot make alone. Camille is Head of Household in the service of Armand Levequ. To allow you to collar her would ordinarily give you absolute dominion over her, which is potentially problematic. Although such a situation would not involve any conflict of interest for you, it might for Camille.” “Oh, I see.” Kat’s voice hushed, the disappointment evident in her tone. “I’m not saying no, Kat. In some respects I think it would be good for you to have your own collared submissive, but I need to think it over. And in any event I shall certainly have to speak to Armand, since it is his interests that stand to be compromised. Be at dinner tonight and I will try to have an answer for you.” **** When Kat entered the dining room that evening Madam SIN, Ming, Frederique and Vladimir were already seated at the table, their wineglasses charged with what looked like red burgundy. “Ah, good evening, Kat,” said Madam SIN from her place at the head of the table. “We were just talking about you.” 370

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat exchanged greetings with everyone as she sat next to Vladimir to face Ming and Frederique across the table. A servant moved in to pour her a glass of wine. “May I know the subject,” she asked. “Certainly, Kat. We were talking about your desire to collar Camille.” Kat felt her cheeks glow, and mentally chided herself for her inability to control the phenomenon despite all she had been through. For a moment, she thought no one had noticed, but then Ming dispelled that misconception. Kat recognized the old familiar mockery in Ming’s eyes as the dominatrix fixed her with her gaze and remarked, “For my part, I would find it difficult to take seriously as a Mistress anyone who blushes at the slightest thing.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Frederique responded, smiling warmly and unconditionally at Kat as she spoke. “I think it makes for a rather appealing dramatic contrast. You know, one minute the Mistress is sensitive, almost vulnerable herself; the next, she can deliver discipline with ruthless determination. And, I may add, we know the latter to be true where Kat is concerned.” “Only from hearsay,” Ming countered. “Hearsay from me, Ming,” Madam SIN reminded her. “I told you how she disciplined the maid, Brenda, in my quarters. I was quite impressed.” “Yes, of course, Christina,” Ming replied, hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to imply… I mean, of course we know from your report of that incident that Kat can be dominant, but that wasn’t with Camille.” “What about the last playlet?” Vladimir asked. “Camille underwent a considerable an ordeal in that.” “Agreed,” Ming said, grudgingly, “But not at Kat’s hands.” Vladimir shrugged. “Kat devised the playlet and cast Camille in the role of Kalima. The next best thing, I would have thought.” 371

Judith Devere

“Exactly, the next best thing.” “Then, what about the time Kat spanked Camille with her hairbrush?” Frederique said. “And that, remember, was only shortly after she had arrived here.” “That was at Camille’s insistence,” Ming reminded her. “Well, I don’t see that…” Frederique began, then fell silent as Madam SIN raised a hand. “Enough. I haven’t mentioned this until now because I didn’t want to inhibit discussion of the topic, but I called Armand in London earlier and sought his view. He has no objection in principle to Kat’s collaring Camille, subject to the single proviso that I, on his behalf, continue to retain ultimate authority over the girl. Since she is indentured to Armand, that must be a precondition, although in reality I am sure it will be little more than a technicality. In short, Armand has left the decision to me, but of course I will take account of your views before I make that decision.” “I think we know Ming’s view,” Vladimir said, with a wry smile. Ming looked at Kat again. “I don’t know about collaring,” she murmured. “This whole idea seems more like a proposal of marriage to me.” “That skeptical, eh, Ming,” Vladimir replied, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Besides,” Ming continued, ignoring him, “I don’t believe Kat is experienced enough yet to collar her own submissive, and I think allowing her to do so would be spoiling her. Why should she assume such status so quickly; she’s only been here a few months?” “Miaow!” Frederique responded in a fair feline impression. “And we know what Frederique’s view is too, don’t we?” Ming retaliated. This exchange evoked both resentment and intrigue in Kat. 372

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Resentment, because she desperately wanted to collar Camille, and Ming was clearly set against that eventuality; intrigue, because, however unlikely it might be, Ming again seemed almost…jealous…at Kat’s preoccupation with Camille. It was an interesting concept, and Kat thought she might exploit it to her advantage if the opportunity ever presented itself. Of course, she would have to be very careful how she went about it; if Ming realized what she suspected, the dominatrix would go out of her way to disabuse her of the idea, if only as a matter of pride. Madam SIN laughed lightly. “Come, come, ladies, let us try to be civilized about this.” Turning to Vladimir, she said, “What about you, Vladimir? What do you say?” “I say the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Let Kat collar Camille on a trial basis. If it works, the relationship can be confirmed later; if not…” He shrugged. “A sensible compromise, Vladimir,” acknowledged Madam SIN. “However,” she went on, turning her gaze on Kat, “one thing does concern me a little. Kat?” “Christina?” “You and Camille were…are…lovers?” Kat struggled to quell the blush that threatened. “I… That is…” “We all know the answer to that one, I think, Christina,” Ming interjected. “Remember, I caught them rutting in Kat’s bed; the very reason I introduced the mulatto to the pony.” Making an instinctive, if rash, decision to go on the offensive, Kat glared at Ming. “Yes, we have been…are…lovers. But that doesn’t mean I can’t dominate her, discipline her when I see fit. In fact…” she paused, offering Ming what she hoped was a lecherous smile “…I derive considerable pleasure from disciplining Camille when I think she deserves it…or merely when the fancy takes me.” Madam SIN said, “Are you saying then, Kat, that your affection 373

Judith Devere

for Camille would not dissuade you from humiliating and punishing her, even if you were allowed to collar her?” Kat glanced quickly at Ming again. “Yes, Christina, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” “I believe her,” Frederique said. “We know what Kat is capable of when the time is right.” “Then perhaps the time is right now,” Ming suggested, curtly. Madam SIN raised an eyebrow. “Ming?” Ming looked pointedly at Kat, her smile sly now as she answered Madam SIN. “Well, as Vladimir observed, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Why don’t we try a little of the pudding now…with dinner?” Kat’s heart began to pound as she realized what Ming was suggesting. “That’s not a bad idea, Christina,” Vladimir observed. “Ming thinks Kat doesn’t have enough experience. Why not give Kat a chance to prove her wrong? Let her demonstrate how she thinks an accomplished dominatrix should deal with her collared submissive; it will be an interesting diversion during dinner.” “Very well,” Madam SIN agreed. “Kat shall have her chance.” Turning to Kat again, she said, “You don’t mind a working dinner, I suppose, Kat?” Although her stomach churned at the prospect, and how it might affect the way Camille felt about her, Kat knew she must stand firm. Setting her jaw aggressively, she smiled grimly and replied, “It will be my pleasure, Christina.” “Good. Why don’t you send one of the servants to bring Camille here to us.” “Yes, of course.” Kat beckoned one of the female servants to her, a dusky young beauty from Martinique named Yvette. Turning aside so that the others at the table could not hear, Kat gave Yvette her instructions. As the servant left the room, Kat said to the others, “Provided Yvette can find her, Camille should be 374

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

with us before too long, though I have given certain instructions as to how she should prepare herself.” Kat’s prediction proved accurate enough. They had finished the soup and were partway through the fish course when three knocks, ritualistically spaced seconds apart, sounded on the outer dining room door. “This will be Camille,” Kat announced. “May I, Christina?” “By all means dear. You have the floor.” “Thank you.” Kat turned toward the door, called out, “Come in, Camille.” The door opened slowly inward to reveal Camille standing on the threshold. In compliance with Kat’s instructions, passed on to her by Yvette, the former maid wore a cream basque trimmed with apricot piping. From her past intimate relationship with her, Kat was familiar with Camille’s wardrobe and favored this stunning garment above all the other woman’s lingerie. The pristine cream satin contrasted deliciously with Camille’s caféau-lait flesh, leaving her perfect breasts bare while at the same time supporting and presenting them to optimum advantage. A matching choker with a pearl pendant hanging at its center embraced the mulatto’s throat. She wore cream lace stockings supported by suspenders from the basque, and satin high heeled shoes, also in cream. Her hands and arms were sheathed in apricot satin evening gloves. A gleaming film of latte lip gloss several shades paler than her complexion defined and accentuated her full, sensual mouth, while her sex — entirely unadorned by panties or any other garment — was on full display for the admiration of all who cared to look. And apparently all present cared very much to look. Even the other servants stared, as if numbed by the prospect of the breathtakingly beautiful Head of Household, now being paraded before them like some exquisite courtesan. “Come over here, Camille,” Kat ordered, her tone 375

Judith Devere

uncharacteristically glacial. “Stand there at the head of the table where we can all see you.” Camille, eyes respectfully trained on the floor, walked to the head of the table opposite that at which Madam SIN sat. Yvette, who had followed her into the room carrying a small velvet valise, stood just inside the door. “You dictated Camille’s attire, Kat?” Vladimir asked, his eyes glowing with unconcealed lust as he devoured Camille’s image. “Yes, Vladimir. Doesn’t she look beautiful…and vulnerable?” “Indeed she does, Kat. Indeed she does.” Looking at Camille, Kat said, “Do you have any idea why I sent for you, Camille? You may look at me.” Camille raised her eyes, the incomprehension and apprehension in their depths obviating any practical need for an answer to Kat’s question. But answer she must, which she did with a fractional shake of her head. “No…” she paused, uncertainty in her expression as she cast her eyes briefly from Kat to Madam SIN and the others. “…Ma’am.” “Ma’am?” Kat said. “How were you about to address me, Camille?” Camille looked down at the floor again. “I was going to address you as…Mistress, but then…” “But then…?” “I…wasn’t sure if… I mean, I didn’t know if that would…be appropriate.” Although unspoken, Madam SIN seemed to recognize the missing word: yet. “You knew, then that Kat had spoken to me about collaring you?” she asked. “I knew that she was going to, Ma’am.” “And so she has.” Camille raised her eyes again, but the look of hopeful expectation that had burgeoned in them was soon dispelled as Madam SIN continued, “As yet, no decision has been reached on 376

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

that question, but for the purposes of this evening’s formalities you may address her as Mistress.” Madam SIN turned to Kat. “I won’t interfere, Kat. As I said, the floor is yours, deal with this matter as you will.” “Thank you, Christina,” Kat answered, rising from her chair. “Excuse me for a few moments, will you, please?” Walking toward the kitchen door, she beckoned the servants in the room, both men and women, to follow her. Kat remained in the kitchen with the servants for about ten minutes, during which time she briefed them as to what she required of them. In the meantime, Madam SIN and the others ate and conversed as normal, only periodically glancing at the effectively naked Head of Household, who, if they had cared to observe closely, was trembling slightly throughout. When Kat return with several of the servants, she walked behind Camille and stood facing the table over her left shoulder. Placing her mouth close to Camille’s ear, she spoke softly; so softly, in fact, that those sitting at the table had to listen carefully to hear what she said. “Camille.” “Yes, Mistress?” Camille responded, her own voice little more than a whisper. “Camille, on the question of my collaring you there is some uncertainty as to my sincerity.” A little frown creased Camille’s brow. “Sincerity, Mistress? I don’t understand.” “Well, mostly, it’s Mistress Ming,” Kat explained, flashing her eyes momentarily at the Chinese dominatrix, whose expression revealed her unconcealed intrigue and fascination as to Kat’s intentions. “You see, she thinks that we are merely lovers; that I don’t have the heart to…abuse you, use you, humiliate or…hurt you.” A strange light seemed to flare and flicker in Camille’s eyes as 377

Judith Devere

Kat spoke these words. “What would say to her about that, my dear?” Camille swallowed, then ran her tongue over her lips as if she were very thirsty. “I would say…that she is very much…mistaken, Mistress.” Kat smiled. “Yes. We both know that, but you see… Well you know Mistress Ming better than I, Camille. She’s such a skeptic.” Ming reflected Kat’s smile now: thin, cruel and entirely without mirth. “And so…” Kat continued, “we shall have to prove her wrong, shan’t we?” Camille half turned her head toward Kat, her frown changing from one of puzzlement to trepidation as she did so. “Mistress?” Her voice tremulous now, the tone plaintive. “Shh, darling,” Kat responded, as if reassuring a child. Raising a hand, she brushed Camille’s cheek softly as she stepped more to her right. Then, taking hold of Camille by the shoulders, she moved her around, positioning her so that she was now standing at an angle to the table and those sitting at it. “Yvette, bring the bag to me, please.” In her chambers deep below the chateau, Ming maintained a seemingly infinite stockpile of erotic impedimenta and instruments of torment and punishment, and Kat had experienced many hours of profound anguish as a result of Ming’s diabolical skill in their use. Since Madam SIN had adjusted Kat’s status, however, Ming had not merely subjected her to the effects of these accouterments, but had also instructed her their implementation. And as Kat had become proficient with each, Ming had incrementally provided her with her own collection. The valise Yvette now held contained a selection of items Kat had instructed her to bring from her suite where she kept that collection. Kat took the valise from Yvette and placed it on the table. 378

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Opening it, she took out two metal nipple clamps, each attached to a six-inch bright metal chain with a clip at the free end. The appearance of these evoked a wince from Camille. Kat stepped up close to her. “Listen to me carefully, Camille. I am going to hurt you and humiliate you now. To establish my worth as a dominatrix, I have to demonstrate that I have the strength to do that to one that I…love. Do you understand?” Although clearly fearful, Camille nodded. “Yes, Mistress.” Kat smiled faintly. “Good. But there is something else. It is not only I who am on trial; you, too, must prove your worth as a submissive…my submissive. Ordinarily, I would restrain you so that you would have no choice but to suffer the pain and degradation I choose to inflict upon you, but I do not intend to do that. It is up to you to demonstrate your absolute submission willingly. In short, you will be able to simply walk away…or run…if you feel you cannot bear the anguish. You understand the implications of this?” “Yes, Mistress,” Camille replied, her voice hushed. “I…won’t let you down.” “I hope not, my dear. Now, place your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers.” The inevitable consequence of this instruction as Camille obeyed it was that her breasts were drawn taut and proud. “Good. Now place you feet wide apart. You have such a beautiful cunt, I’m sure everyone here wants to see it properly, and I know Ming will be watching very closely to see how wet you become. As you know, Camille, the mark of a skilled dominatrix is her ability to evoke correspondingly optimum levels of both anguish and arousal in her subject.” As Camille obeyed the instruction, Ming said. “Quite right, Kat. And tell me, is the bitch wet already?” Holding the clamps in her left hand, Kat place the right 379

Judith Devere

between Camille’s thighs. “Let’s see, shall we?” Camille gasped, her body tensing, nipples hardening as Kat’s fingers raked through the slippery valley of her sex. “Yes, Ming, the bitch is already very wet.” “Mm, I imagined so. Carry on, Kat.” Kat raised one of the clamps to place it on Camille’s right nipple. As she began to turn the screw and the steel jaws squeezed tender flesh, Camille grimaced and released a little anguished cry. Then she began to pant as Kat tightened the clamp to optimum effect. Two minutes later the second clamp was firmly in place on Camille’s left nipple, and a glistening tear ran its course down Camille’s cheek before dropping onto her breast. Now Kat removed from the valise two heavy metal weights about the size and shape of large plums. At one end of these was a small metal loop by which she attached them in turn to the clips on the chains dangling from the nipple clamps. “Ooohhh,” Camille moaned, biting her lower lip and rounding her shoulders as Kat released the weights to let them hang free. Pendulum-like, the heavy metal plums swung to and fro, cruelly pulling and stretching Camille’s tightly clamped nipples. Kat turned back to the valise, and removed from it something which, even in her already agonized state, caused Camille’s eyes to widen with dread. The instrument was known as a flogger. It had a twelve-inch long handle bound with plaited leather, from the end of which fifty or sixty spaghetti-like tendrils of black leather extended some four or five feet. “Brace yourself, Camille,” Kat warned. “This is going to hurt a great deal.” Camille shivered, fixed her eyes at the far wall as if seeking to remove herself spiritually from the room. Kat raised her arm, the 380

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

tendrils rustling against each other as she took up her stance. Kat was both proud and amazed by Camille’s reaction to the first stroke of the flogger, which she laid squarely across both of her breasts. Although not the most savage of strokes, the force of the many tendrils raining down on her tender flesh must have been considerable, not to mention the intensifying effect on the pain in her nipples as the chains and clamps absorbed the energy of the blow. Yet although her body contorted violently in response, and she sucked in a great breath of air in a loud sibilant rush, Camille somehow managed not to cry out. A fine tracery of serpentine lines appeared darkly on the pale coffee flesh of Camille’s breasts. Kat delivered a second stroke. Again, Camille contrived not to voice her pain, though her bodily contortions were more pronounced than last time. In fact, it was not until Kat had delivered half a dozen strokes of the flogger to Camille’s now inflamed breasts that the woman allowed herself the release of a scream. Tears now streamed down the mulatto’s cheeks, her breasts heaving as she began to sob. Kat glanced over her shoulder, confirming what she suspected; that Ming’s eyes were aglow with that demoniacal fire Kat knew so well. Encouraged, she began to lay the flogger on Camille with more force, at the same time walking around the compliant submissive to deliver the strokes with strategic precision to her back, hips, thighs and buttocks. In response Camille variously writhed and moaned and screamed and wept, but never once pleaded for mercy. Highly aroused herself, now, Kat noted with fascination, not for the first time, how in contrast to the pink and red welts the flogger would have raised on the flesh of a Caucasian, those on Camille’s café-au-lait skin appeared as dark brown or black. Standing immediately behind Camille now, Kat paused for at least a minute, although it seemed much longer, allowing the already highly charged atmosphere in the room to intensify. Though most of the servants present simply stood watching the 381

Judith Devere

spectacle with the same avid interest as Madam SIN, Ming, Frederique and Vladimir, several continued serving dinner and wine throughout. Kat sensed an eagerness, perhaps even a sense of impatience among the observers as they waited restlessly for the resumption of Camille’s sadistically erotic ordeal. When it came, they were not disappointed. Swinging the flogger up in an arc from the floor, Kat directed the tendrils between Camille’s widespread thighs to deliver their vicious, many-tongued kiss upon her smooth expanse of her mons and the soft protruding labia that pouted from her slit. Camille’s scream reverberated from the walls and roof of the dining room, and for the first time since her trial had begun, she almost unclasped her hands. But even before her scream subsided, Kat placed another perfectly aimed stroke upon Camille’s totally unprotected sex, causing her to yelp and squeal like a hurt animal as she almost bent double in pain. Kat’s purpose in whipping her victim’s sex from behind was to present an unobstructed view to Madam SIN and the others, particularly Ming, who would without doubt be her severest critic. As she laid on stroke after stroke, Camille, squirming and shrieking and weeping, began an awkward little dance on the spot, straining to keep her feet wide apart for Kat as she did so. When the last stroke had been delivered, Kat walked around to face Camille again. Looking at her tear stained face, Kat saw in her eyes the profound suffering and irrepressible arousal that were somehow inextricably linked. As she placed her hand on the other woman’s sex, slipping two fingers inside her, Camille first flinched then moaned, her shoulders spasming as if she had been electrocuted. “What was that, Kat?” Ming asked, her tone suggesting that the question was rhetorical. “Camille just came on my fingers.” “Without permission?” 382

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat nodded. “Yes, without permission.” “The little whore!” Ming retorted. Ming seemed to be making a small contribution to Kat’s plans for Camille. She could not have known what those plans were exactly, of course, but Ming was highly intuitive in such matters, and so perhaps sensed the way things were going. “You heard Mistress Ming, Camille?” Kat asked. Camille nodded, sniffed tearfully. “Yes, Mistress.” “Was she being unfair, do you think?” Camille looked into Kat’s eyes, as if trying seeking guidance as to how she should respond. Kat wondered if she could see there what was expected of her, and thought perhaps that she could. Camille shook her head. “No, Mistress.” “You mean the Head of Household of Chateau Levequ is a little whore? Is that what you are telling everyone?” “I…” Camille hung her head. “Yes, Mistress,” she murmured. “Louder, whore. No one can hear you properly. Make it an announcement in the third person.” Camille looked up again, faced the room: Madam SIN and the others in authority, and the servants over whom she normally had authority. “The Head of Household of Chateau Levequ is a whore,” she announced, looking more wretched than Kat had ever seen her before. Pity and arousal and ruthlessness vied for dominance in Kat. The latter two won easily. “And…?” she prompted. Camille seemed to realize now that what was expected of her was nothing less than absolute self-abasement. “And…a shameless…slut.” “A shameless slut, yes,” Kat repeated. “So Ming was more than right; our Head of Household is a little whore and a 383

Judith Devere

shameless slut. Under the circumstances, it seems rather unfair that she should enjoy such an exalted position above the other servants. They must be resentful, indeed, don’t you think, Camille?” “I imagine so, yes, Mistress.” “Well, then…do you think we should redress the balance — in the interests of natural justice?” For a moment, Camille seemed not to know what to say. “Well?” Kat prompted, a little severely. The expression in Camille’s eyes now was the nearest thing to a plea she had exhibited since her ordeal had begun. Nevertheless, she now knew instinctively what her reply must be. “Yes, Mistress.” Kat leaned forward, whispered in Camille’s ear. Camille lowered her head. “Very well, Mistress.” Stepping up to the dining table, she picked up a chair and carried it back to Kat. The chair was antique, heavy, and as she struggled with it, the weights on the chains attached to her nipples swung and bounced in response to her every movement, causing her to frown and wince with pain. Setting the chair down, she then brought another and positioned it on the floor facing the first one, leaving a gap of about two feet between them. Kat watched with a critical eye to make sure that she angled the chairs toward the head of the table as instructed, with the objective of affording the diners a prime view of the proceedings that were to follow. Next, with all eyes on her, Camille crossed the room and began to drag a rectangular ottoman toward the head of the table. This was even more of a struggle than the chairs, and her faced darkened in a mulatto blush as she noticed two female servants whispering and grinning with relish as they watched her. She maneuvered the ottoman into place so that it’s end butted against the gap between the two chairs to form the shape of a letter T. She turned to face Kat, her breasts, and 384

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

consequently the weights suspended from her nipples, rising and falling from the effort of moving the furniture. “So far, so good. Now, up on the chairs, Camille, and assume the position.” Camille took a deep breath, swallowed hard, then turned and clambered up onto the chairs to place one knee on each. Kneeling thus, the gap between the chairs ensured that her thighs were spread wide apart. Now, carefully, so that she did not slip and fall from her precarious perch, she bent from the hip until she was able to place her hands on the ottoman below and in front of her. In this position, angled slightly backwards toward the head of the table, her torso sloping down toward the ottoman, Camille’s exposed feminine charms were displayed unequivocally to all in the room — Madam SIN and her fellow diners enjoying, as it were, a front stalls view. The mulatto’s labia, purplish-pink, hung like silken drapes about the glorious portal of her sex, glistening moistly in the refracted spectrum of light from the crystal chandeliers above. Equally glorious, it seemed to Kat, was the exotic prospect of the woman’s tightly puckered anus, surmounting her vulva like some dark guiding star. Camille’s breasts hung toward the floor, the nipples stretched taut by the chained weights swinging gently beneath her body. For a few moments, the atmosphere in the dining room — deafening in its sudden silence now — seemed charged with electrical energy, like the precursor to an imminent thunderstorm, as all present ravenously devoured the intensely erotic imagery before them. Although she herself could have stared indefinitely, it was Kat who at length broke the spell. “Yvette, is it ready?” “Yes, Ma’am.” Yvette crossed the room to Kat, handed her something wrapped in what looked like a square of silk. “I prepared it exactly as you instructed, Ma’am.” 385

Judith Devere

Kat opened the folds of silk and took out what looked like the root of a plant, pale in color and slightly irregular in shape. Seven or eight inches long, it was about the thickness of a broom handle at one end, but had been peeled and gradually tapered toward the other. As she stepped toward Camille, Kat noticed from the corner of her eye that Ming was craning her neck, the better to observe what she was about to do. Walking around Camille so that she now faced Madam SIN and the others over the kneeling mulatto’s body, she placed her right palm on Camille’s rump, where her tailbone merged with the cleft of her buttocks. With left hand, she began to softly brush Camille’s inner thighs with the pale root, slowly moving higher, toward her sex. When it eventually touched her labia, Camille gasped, arching her back a little. For a moment or so, Kat teased the fleshy lips with the root’s rolling sliding caress, then eased its length laterally into the slippery cleft between. “Oooohh.” Camille threw back her head, her eyes halfclosing as Kat slid the root back and forth in her slit. “For those of you who haven’t yet recognized it, the article I have introduced into Camille’s…cunt…” Camille moaned as Kat pushed rather harder against her sex with the root as she emphasized the word. “…is nothing more than a piece of ginger root.” Subdued murmurs around the table and among the servants evidenced general surprise at this announcement. “And what I am doing now is really only the precursor to the purpose to which I intend to put it. Although the whore is clearly enjoying the experience, all I am doing at the moment is lubricating the root so that it will enter her other…orifice…without too much difficulty.” Although Kat was unable to see it from her position, Camille’s expression betrayed her dismay and consternation at this statement. 386

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat continued, “As you know, the ginger root is somewhat spicy. When used in cooking, it imparts a pleasantly hot, tingling sensation to the tongue. Unlike the more aggressive heat produced by fiery chili pepper, this sensation is more subtle, intriguing and insinuating. When peeled and introduced, like a male organ into the anus, however, the effect is very different indeed…as we shall see.” Removing the ginger root from Camille’s sex, Kat drew it very slowly up between her buttocks to rest the tapered tip against the center of the dark star, Camille trembling with trepidation now. “I hope you will at least credit me with self-motivation and industry, Christina. In addition to my training by Ming and Vladimir, I have spent much of my free time in the library here, researching in great depth the subjects of bondage, domination and sado-masochism. I believe, in discovering the less conventional potential of this humble ginger root, I may have learned something not known even to Ming — a practice known as figging.” Although ostensibly delivered to Madam SIN as a statement, by alternating her gaze between her and Ming as she spoke, Kat also offered this disclosure to the latter…as a question. Her intent was not lost on Ming, who with an uncharacteristically gracious if economical smile, conceded that Kat was correct in her assumption. For some reason, Kat was extraordinarily gratified by Ming’s acknowledgement — the teacher learning something from the advancing pupil, perhaps? But now the pupil must fulfill the expectations she had aroused. Camille hunched her shoulders, lowered her head as Kat began to insert the tip of the ginger root inside her. She drove it with a regular progressive motion, easing it backward and forward, and a little further forward each time. As she watched the fibrous spike slip ever deeper into Camille against the resistance of her sphincter muscles, Kat was reminded of the 387

Judith Devere

original of Vladimir Romanoff’s epithet — Vlad the Impaler. The mediaeval Transylvanian Count had secured a macabre place in history for his practice of sitting his enemies atop tall wooden spikes and leaving them to agonize as they slid slowly — sometimes over the course of days — to the eventual merciful release of death. As a notorious libertine and movie director/producer, Romanoff had been dubbed by some media wag with the same nickname, although in his case on the basis of his reputation for impaling — in quite a different manner — the actresses who won roles in his films. But Camille’s impaling by Kat with the ginger spike, although clearly causing her considerable anguish as its exotic characteristics began to take effect, would be neither fatal nor without pleasure…as Kat now explained. “The chemical constituents of the ginger plant, which give us such Epicurean delight when used in food, have an entirely different effect on the membranes and nerves of the anal passage. Right now, Camille is experiencing an increasingly hot and mildly irritating sensation. This will continue to burgeon for considerable time while the root remains in place inside her, imparting a sort of tingling torment that she will find extremely distressing yet incredibly arousing. You will note that Yvette, who on my instructions peeled and fashioned the ginger root, has pared a concave groove around the thicker end. This will ensure that when it is inserted to optimum depth it will remain in place until deliberately removed by hand. As she made this last point, Kat thrust the root fully home. “Oooh,” Camille exclaimed loudly, panting and squirming and setting the weights attached to her nipples jiggling. “Oh, no…pl…please, no. Ooh,…mng… Oh, my!..Oh, myyyyy!.” Ignoring her plaintive protests, Kat continued, “We, that is Camille and I, have agreed that the servants should be allowed to vent their resentment on her for the indignity of having to be 388

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

subservient to a Head of Household who is, by her own admission, both a whore and a shameless slut. Of course, once they have enjoyed that dispensation, the status quo will be restored. Tomorrow, Camille’s position will be as it was before and the servants will be required to afford her the respect due to the Head of Household. But for the moment…well, the servants and I have discussed and agreed the parameters for the whore’s degradation this evening, and with your permission I will resume my seat. As you may have noticed, a number of additional servants have been brought in to assist, both in serving dinner, which will continue throughout Camille’s ordeal, and in meting out her…just desserts. Kat returned to her seat. As she sat down, Frederique caught her eye with a look of what seemed to Kat both approval and admiration…as well as more than a touch of the dark fire Kat had seen during their night together in Le Sanctuaire deep in the ground beneath the chateau. Kat smiled at her and received Frederique’s own dazzling and unconditional smile in return. Dinner continued much as always, the servants attentively serving each course and topping up wine glasses as necessary, but there was little conversation, since the diners were diverted by Kat’s continuing demonstration that she was perfectly capable of subjugating Camille quite ruthlessly. As Kat had indicated, the servants’ ranks had swollen, so that there were now twenty or more present in the dining room, only three or four of whom were needed at any given time to attend the dinner table. The remainder, by turns, took full advantage of the Head of Household’s vulnerability and the license they had been given by Kat to use and abuse her. Camille’s debasement by the servants began, Kat noted with both a little surge of hostility and a good deal of arousal, when Calvin strode out to be the first. Standing behind Camille, he stripped off his clothes to reveal the magnificent black 389

Judith Devere

musculature of his body and the pulsing immensity of his erect penis — the Black Bishop of the chessboard, as Kat had thought of it during her “rape” by Calvin at Pelican Bay. Calvin’s obviously urgent need precluded any preliminaries, which were hardly necessary anyway since Camille, squirming in response to the internal fire sparked by the ginger root, was literally dripping. She groaned as he thrust into her, cramming her vulva with his hard male bulk. Within seconds he had picked up a rhythm and was in full flow, his hips moving as if to some timeless tribal dance as he fucked her with long measured strokes. And despite her situation, or perhaps more accurately goaded on by it, Camille quickly fell into her own counterpoint rhythmic swaying with him. But with each forward thrust, Calvin’s pubis hammered the ginger root into Camille like some painfully erotic nail, causing her to grimace and protest with little grunts and squeals. These, however, were soon stifled in her throat as another black male servant took up position in front of her astride the ottoman. Unlike Calvin, he didn’t deign to undress, but merely unfastened his britches to allow his cock to spring free before thrusting it roughly between Camille’s pale coffee-glossed lips. As she accommodated him, taking him into her throat, he began to synchronize the undulating of his hips with the existing rhythm initiated by Calvin, so that both men worked together like parts of a living machine. And between them Camille shuttled back and forth, driven on toward orgasm by Calvin’s ravaging manhood while sucking and gulping on the other in her mouth. Adding to her wretchedness, the weights hanging from her nipples jerked and jounced with every movement so that the tender flesh must have seemed to be on fire. And if that were not enough, one of the female servants, a statuesque Cuban of about forty, named Calypso, now took the opportunity to add to Camille’s suffering. Whether from true resentment or simply because it aroused her 390

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

sexually it was not possible to tell, but Calypso took up the flogger left by Kat, and, moving around the fornicating trio, began to whip Camille from every possible angle. At the height of his passion, Calvin stiffened and groaned as he climaxed, his cock discharging its warm, viscous payload into Camille in a series of violent spasms. Seconds later, his orgasm perhaps triggered by Calvin’s, the other Negro ejaculated, partly in Camille’s mouth and party over her face as his penis sprang free of her lips. When the throes of Calvin’s orgasm had at last subsided, he withdrew from Camille and another male servant took his place, his easy entry into her assured by the lubricious amalgam of Calvin’s and her own secretions. After wiping his penis contemptuously over Camille’s face, the other servant turned away, his place taken now by Calypso, who lay on her back on the ottoman and, spreading her thighs wide, threw her calves onto Camille’s shoulders. Gripping Camille by the hair, she pulled her face into the black thatched center of her sex. As Camille’s tongue slipped easily into Calypso’s vulva, the newly buried cock in her own sex began to pound her savagely, the man’s thighs and belly slapping wetly against her buttocks with each forward stroke. This trio soon fell into their own mutual rhythm, while yet another male servant took to flogging Camille so that, with each stroke, the cruel tendrils wrapped around her torso to flick painfully across her breasts and clamped nipples. As Kat watched, she wondered if she had been overly harsh with Camille, perhaps too ambitious, simply to prove a point. The lovely mulatto had suffered considerably already and there were a good deal many more servants who would want their share of her before this scenario was over, either to slake their lust or simply to add to her suffering. **** 391

Judith Devere

By the time dinner was over there was not a servant present who had not achieved orgasm at Camille’s expense. Camille herself, totally exhausted from her ordeal, lay slumped across the chairs and ottoman, moaning softly and seemingly oblivious to all about her. “Well,” Madam SIN said, cheerfully, if rather huskily, “I am convinced. Any dissenters?” — this last, glancing as Ming. Ming smiled and shook her head. “No dissent from me this time, Christina,” she replied, turning to look at Kat. “I have to acknowledge that we have in our midst a dominatrix of extraordinary potential.” Since no one else seemed inclined to add anything to Ming’s somewhat uncharacteristic approbation of Kat, Madam SIN reached into her handbag to withdraw a tan suede bag fastened by a drawstring. “Here, Kat, take it.” With a heady sensation of exhilaration, Kat opened the bag and reached inside. Her fingers gripped what felt like a leather belt, but she guessed what it was. Withdrawing the collar she looked at it with admiration and proprietorial pride. About two inches wide, it was made of sturdy but very fine quality black leather. In marked contrast to the leather, the collar was adorned in bright silver with finely crafted single roses, the stems of which bristled with prominent sharp thorns. The collar, Kat knew, was symbolic of ownership, power and absolute submission. “Thank you, Christina.” “Go and collar her, Kat.” “Yes.” Kat rose and went to Camille who still lay prostrate across the chairs and ottoman, her naked body covered by an intricate latticework of welts from the floggings she had endured. Her 392

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

face, hair, breasts and inner thighs were liberally spattered with the randomly discharged passion of both her male and female violators, but Kat ignored this as she knelt to put an arm around her. When Kat kissed her softly on the cheek, Camille half opened her eyes as if she just awoken from a deep sleep. “Is it…over?” she murmured, thickly. Kat smiled tenderly. “Yes, darling. But be still for a moment, there is something I have to do first.” Kat ran her hand down Camille’s back to her buttocks. Camille tensed as Kat’s finger’s slipped between them to grip the protruding tip of the ginger root. “Aaaahh,” Camille exclaimed, as Kat slowly withdrew the root. “Oh, my goodness, it still burns so.” “But pleasurable too, no?” Camille sighed. “Yes, Mistress.” “Mm. You were very good, my love. I am proud of you. And I have something for you.” “Something…for me?” Kat nodded and slipped the leather collar around Camille’s slender neck, fastening it in place at the back by its two metal buckles. “Oh.” By no means for the first time that evening tears welled in Camille’s eyes as she reached with her hand for the collar, felt it with exploring fingers. “Oh, my!” “Is that all you have to say, dear?” Camille’s eyes widened. “All? Oh, no. Of course not.” She smiled, weakly. “Thank you…Mistress.” Kat kissed Camille long and gently on the mouth, tasting the salt and musk legacy of her multiple violation by her male and female subordinates. When the kiss had run its course, Camille whispered, “Can we go to your rooms?” Kat shook her head. “Not now. When Christina and the rest of us have left the dining room, then, and only then, you may go 393

Judith Devere

back to your own room. Shower and freshen up; sleep for a while, you definitely need it. Later — in the night — if you feel restored and want to be with me, then you may come to my quarters.” Kat rose and returned to the table, where the servants, now properly attired and respectfully performing their duties as if nothing unusual had happened, were clearing away the dinner crockery and silverware. “Well,” Madam SIN said. “That was quite an evening. Would anyone care to join me on my balcony for a glass or two of vintage port? I’m sure the events of the last hour or so will stimulate a host of conversation topics.” “I’d love to,” Frederique answered. “It’s a beautiful evening.” “Yes,” Ming said, her eyes still bright with inner light. “That sounds like an excellent idea. You’ll join us, Kat?” “If you don’t mind, I won’t. I’ve been working on the draft of another playlet and…” she turned to look at Romanoff “…I was rather hoping that Vladimir would give me some advice on a few points I’m uncertain about.” Madam SIN raised an eyebrow. “My, my, Kat, you really are industrious aren’t you? Well, we shall miss your company, of course, but we are always in need of fresh material, so if Vladimir doesn’t mind…” Romanoff shook his head. “Not at all, Christina. Kat has shown us more than once that she has a good deal of talent in…” he smiled, suggestively “…a variety of fields. I feel I have a responsibility to help her to develop that talent, and after all, encouraging innovation and creativity is part of my role here, is it not?” “Indeed it is, Vladimir, Madam SIN answered, sounding rather pleased. “Well, then, Ming, Frederique and I will bid you both good night.” “Yes, good night, ladies.” Vladimir turned to Kat. “Right then, 394

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat, where do we work?” “The draft is in my suite…” “Very well, let’s go then.” With the exception of Kat, no one seemed to notice the barely controlled resentment in Ming’s expression as Kat left the dining room with Romanoff. Kat suspected that Ming had harbored plans for her later that night — she thought she had read the signs in the other woman’s body language and attitude. If she was right, then Ming would almost certainly take Kat’s going off with Vladimir as a slight, and there would no doubt be a price to pay for that at some stage in the near future. But right now, Kat didn’t care. Her loins were on fire, her thighs slick with the insistent ooze of arousal from her sex. Watching Camille endure her ordeal had been excruciatingly exciting. Desire and carnal hunger had blossomed and grown in her womb throughout dinner, and now her sex prickled and itched…ached with her undeniable need. She felt like a drug addict; desperate, willing to do anything for what she absolutely had to have — now. “Vladimir.” Romanoff paused and turned to look over his shoulder at Kat. He had started up the final flight of stairs that led to her floor, but Kat had stopped on the mid-floor landing where the stairs turned back on themselves in rising. He looked puzzled. “What is it, Kat? Is something wrong?” She shook her head. “No, Vladimir. Nothing is wrong.” “Then…?” “I misled you…everyone. I wasn’t telling the truth about the playlet when I asked you to come with me?” “You mean there’s no playlet? I don’t understand.” “There is a playlet, but I don’t need your help with it. Not yet, anyway; perhaps later…” “Then, what do you want, Kat?” Kat leaned back against the ornately carved banister, her face 395

Judith Devere

slightly flushed. “Vladimir, was there anything in my wine this evening? I mean, any of Ming’s concoctions?” Romanoff had turned back now, descending the stairs to the landing where he stood facing Kat. “No, nothing. We weren’t expecting anything in the dining room this evening. Nothing was planned, it just happened. Why do you ask?” Despite Vladimir’s assurance to the contrary, Kat felt much the way she did when she had been drinking aphrodisiac laced wine. Perhaps this was simply another milestone in her sexual and moral development…or should that be dissolution? Well, it didn’t matter, there was nothing she could do about it. No, that was wrong; quite wrong. There was something she could do to quench the raging desire that seemed to be consuming her like fire. She knew without doubt what she needed. For almost a minute she and Romanoff simply looked at each other until, when at last it seemed as if he was about to say something, she interrupted him. “Fuck me, Vladimir.” For a moment, surprisingly, Romanoff seemed stunned, and even more surprisingly, lost for words. She held him with her eyes. “Vladimir Romanoff — Vlad the Impaler — I want you to impale me…now. Fuck me, Vladimir.” The bewilderment slowly drained from his expression. He smiled. “This is why you asked me to go to your quarters with you? Really?” “Really,” Kat breathed. She was wearing a crimson silk dress that buttoned right down the front. She wore no bra beneath it. She reached for the top button, flicked it open. Now the next…and the next. Never taking her eyes off his, she continued working down the buttons. “What I put Camille through this evening…I can’t begin to 396

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

tell you how it has aroused me. It seems an age since you last fucked me. Tonight I need you to. I really need it, Vladimir. Now, right here on the stairs.” As the upper part of her dress fell open, Kat wriggled the silk off her shoulders, baring her breasts to Romanoff’s appreciative gaze. She touched a nipple with her fingertips, rubbed it roughly, shuddering as a feeling like static electricity sparked not only in the nipple, but deep in her loins too. “Oh, sweet Jesus, Vladimir, I am so fucking horny” Despite the catalogue of scandalous things she had done since forging her present relationship with Armand Levequ, the words that tripped so glibly from her lips shocked her…but, paradoxically, served also to further fire her arousal. Her dress was up around her waist now as she unfastened the last button. Letting the dress slough to the floor, she kicked it away and backed into the corner of the landing. Wearing only a minuscule pair of silk panties, stockings and shoes now, she stretched out her arms along the banister on each side of her. Her eyes hooded beneath half lowered lids, redolent with naked lust, she dropped her gaze briefly before returning it to meet Vladimir’s again. She smiled, smugly. “For a moment I thought perhaps that, for some reason, you didn’t want me. I see now that isn’t so.” Romanoff looked down at the tent-like bulge at the crotch of his pants. Smiling back at her, her threw off his jacket, began unbuttoning his shirt. “Katrina Mandell,” he said with quiet deliberation, “I’m going to give you the fucking of your life.” Within seconds he was naked, his sturdy penis adamantine, unequivocally proclaiming his readiness to give Kat what she craved. As he moved toward her, Kat’s breathing quickened, her nipples hardening painfully. Her head was swimming now, her panties drenched. Vladimir moved in close to her and gripped 397

Judith Devere

them on either side of her mons, wrenching at the silk. He was a well built, powerful man, and the garment tore asunder as if it were paper. He tossed the torn shreds aside, then stooped to grasp Kat’s legs behind her knees. She gasped, gripping the banister tightly for support as he hauled her feet off the floor. Pushing her legs apart and back against her body, he moved in between her thighs, his cock poised like a battering ram at the threshold of her sex. Mesmerized, she stared at the prospect for a long moment as if time had stopped; that it had not was evident not only from the rising and falling of her breasts in response to her labored breathing, but also from the rhythmic pulsing of Vladimir’s rampant erection. He moved a little closer, the great swollen head of his cock now nuzzling against the slick, swollen lips of her sex. She flinched at the contact, as if the savage organ were charged with electricity or searing heat. She dragged a long ragged breath deep into her lungs. “Yes, Vladimir,” she breathed. “Do it. Now. Fuck meeeoooooohh.” Kat’s entreaty, begun on a husky exhalation, became a long wail, then a scream that reverberated through the stairwell as Vlad the Impaler lived up to his epithet. He drove hard, violently into her, his cock even seeming to jar against her very womb. His bulk dragged across her clitoris as he entered her, evoking an almost unbearable thrill of pleasure in the blood engorged nub of flesh. His girth stretched the walls of her vulva until she felt that he might split her apart. Entirely buried in her, he maintained the pressure for many seconds, as if he might crush her in his passion. Her shoulder blades pressed hard against the banister, her legs, bent at the knee lay draped over the crooks of his arms. She felt giddy, breathless, but then he began to slowly withdraw from her, and air rushed into her lungs again. She looked down across her belly in rapt fascination at the gleaming pillar of flesh as it materialized from the sheath of her sex, 398

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

dragging the lips after it in its withdrawal. Similarly engrossed, Vladimir, too, watched the process, as a hungry man might regard a dinner table spread with a sumptuous feast. But then, when all but the cockhead was visible, dark and glossy with her arousal, he paused and switched his gaze to her eyes. Reacting instinctively, she met his gaze just as he drove into her again. From the first exploratory strokes — almost maddeningly slow for Kat to begin with — Vladimir’s movements began to gain momentum and very soon he was on the verge of making good his promise. Suspended above the stair landing between Vladimir’s muscular arms and the banister, to which she clung with the temporary strength of adrenaline, she gave herself up totally to him as he did indeed give her fucking of her life. The expression on his face as he ploughed into her with increasing velocity and power was one of unmitigated determination. The core of her arousal, confined at first like a tight ball to the small area within and around her sex, began to spread and intensify, first through her womb and belly, and then out along her very limbs. Vladimir’s hips were moving fluidly now with a machinelike rhythm and at a pace that seemed faster than humanly possible. His balls slapped repeatedly against her buttocks, his pubis slamming against hers. The pressure and tension built up inside her until she thought she might pass out, but then suddenly, almost unexpectedly…she came…and every nerve in her body seemed to scream in her mind. The fiercest, most galvanizing orgasm Kat had ever experienced seemed timeless, as if it might never end…unless it ended with her premature death from sheer ecstasy, to which she could not have objected in her present state. And Vladimir’s relentless reaming of her sex did not abate, but seemed instead to quicken…until at last, he too came, violently and copiously. The expulsion of his semen inside her spurred her own orgasm to even greater intensity, her body convulsing uncontrollably in 399

Judith Devere

response. Inevitably, the waves of pleasure diminished, and when Vladimir lowered her feet to the floor again, she slumped against the banister, sweating and panting with fatigue…but thoroughly sated. At last, the fire that had been consuming her from within had been quenched. **** Although Kat had climaxed only once with Vladimir on the stairway, the orgasm had been nothing less than cataclysmic…and totally exhausting. On returning to her suite, she showered then slept until the early hours of the morning when Camille, using her own key, entered. Kat did not wake until the mulatto slipped into bed with her, naked, soft and warm. And then the two women, temporarily abandoning their roles as Mistress and submissive, made love, tenderly and selflessly, each with the other’s pleasure her only goal. When it was over, the two women slept in each other’s arms, and neither moved again until the rosy streaks of dawn crept across the night sky. Then Kat awoke to the pleasurable discovery of Camille’s eager little tongue lapping softly but insistently at her clitoris.

400

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Eighteen

A

t various times during the remaining weeks of Kat’s indenture there were several visitors to Chateau Levequ; men and women, who, in addition to enjoying impeccable service, superb cuisine, fine wine and gracious hospitality, were also entertained and indulged in lavish style. Thanks to Armand Levequ’s generosity and exclusive resources, they were able to fulfill fantasies and satisfy unconventional cravings in ways that were limited only by the considerable imagination and inventiveness of Madam SIN and her associates. These visitors were distinguished, in some cases eminent, individuals in their respective fields. Moreover, they were, without exception, highly influential in either politics, commerce or both. The unusual and specialized nature of their carnal appetites was such that these almost certainly could not have been satisfied anywhere other than L’Île des Désirs — at least, not without prejudice to reputation, personal safety and peace of mind. Such was the unique service that Armand Levequ was able to provide to the powerful, rich and famous who were fortunate enough to have established relationships of mutual trust and confidence with him. These were symbiotic relationships, of course; since Armand’s guests invariably possessed the capacity to — and often did — reciprocate his largesse in ways that advanced his own aspirations. 401

Judith Devere

More often than not, Kat had been personally involved in catering to the various exotic and often extreme sexual predilections of Armand’s guests; indeed, she had come to share many of their tastes herself during her transition from innocence to decadence, or as she now perceived it, enlightenment. As her indenture drew inexorably toward its conclusion, she had become increasingly accomplished in all aspects of the esoteric discipline shared by Christina SIN and her disciple, CHIANG Ming. Sado-masochism and erotic submission and domination had become a indispensable part of her life, a part of her, that could no longer be denied, and it was apparent from the way Christina now treated her that she regarded Kat as something of a protégé. Kat and Camille now spent much of their free time together, sometimes in tender lovemaking or simply enjoying each other’s company…or with Kat subjecting Camille to the humiliation, anguish and torment to which the Head of Household had so readily resigned herself by accepting Kat’s collar. Indeed, it was upon Camille that Kat both practiced her existing skills and developed new ones, a fact that Camille braved willingly but often through a veil of pain and tears, for which Kat loved her all the more. All in all, Kat was content with her life at Chateau Levequ. She felt fulfilled, that she truly had found her destiny — a fact that brought a wry smile to her lips whenever she thought how utterly impossible that would have seemed to the Katrina Mandell of less than half a year ago. But time was running short. In just a few weeks, her indenture would be over and what lay beyond remained a mystery. She had tried indirectly to broach the issue with Madam SIN, but had learned nothing of what was planned for her. In the face of this uncertainty about the future, she sometimes felt her confidence faltering. She knew instinctively, though, that she must not allow others to see this; that to be seen 402

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

as anything less than totally self-assured at this stage of her “development” would somehow threaten her best interests. And this reminded her that there remained an oblique, yet very real potential threat to her recently acquired authority, which, if discerned by Madam SIN or her associates, might yet undermine her credibility. And so it was with a sense of purpose that she stepped out onto her balcony one morning, having decided during the night that the time had come to address that threat. If all went as she intended, the result should, if anything, reinforce her positive image in the eyes of Christina and the others. Although early morning sunlight drenched the forest clad mountainside, seeming to squeeze new color from the lush green canopy like an artist’s paint from the tube to the pallet, there would be rain before the day was out. Way out to sea, on the horizon, long low wreaths of cloud, pregnant with water, hung like crumpled silk, dense and dark but with bright pearl extremities where sunlight infused the vaporous mass. It was almost nine fifteen and Kat was waiting for Ingrid to arrive; after a very late night of research in the library, she had decided to sleep a little later than usual and dine in her suite. When the maid arrived, she gave her instructions, then sat out on the balcony for a leisurely breakfast in the pleasant warmth of the sun. **** When Kat arrived at the stables Calvin was already there, waiting for her and talking to Jacob, who had saddled up Sam for her and a big gray gelding named Nelson for Calvin. No longer wearing servant’s attire, Calvin was dressed for riding, as Kat had instructed through Ingrid. His choice of riding clothes, though, obliged Kat to stifle a smile as she strode across the cobbled stable yard toward the two men: tan leather riding boots, white 403

Judith Devere

jodhpurs, a white shirt and cream silk cravat. God, the man thought a lot of himself. “Good morning, Miss Kat,” Jacob called out when he saw her. “Good morning, Jacob; Calvin.” Calvin turned to look at her. “Good morning…Ma’am,” he answered, his eyes glowing with the smug self-assurance and derision he had been cautious enough to exclude from the tone of his voice. Suddenly, Kat wavered, her confidence momentarily fragile as she regarded the two men, both of whom were very familiar with every inch of her body, had ventured deep into her core to spill their seed in her womb. Aside from both being black, they were very different. Jacob, the sturdy blacksmith: powerful, potentially very dangerous, both in terms of his sheer strength and the prodigious size of his legendary manhood; approaching his seventies, but still with the body and energy of a much younger man, not to mention the passion. But for all that, he was a likable individual, caring and compassionate; even when he had ravished her, it had been almost apologetically. By contrast, Calvin was a much younger man, not so robust in build as Jacob but nevertheless blessed with a fine muscular body and a manhood that Kat found at once fearsome and fascinating — the Black Bishop. And he was handsome, too, with his firm, square jaw, straight nose and broad forehead — features more reminiscent of a Caucasian than a Negro. And just look at how fine he looked now, dressed almost entirely in pristine white twill and cream silk; more like the local squire than a mere servant. Despite having been raped and sexually abused by him on two occasions — once in the guise of “Goathead” in the forest at Pelican Bay, then later, as a slave in revolt in a playlet performed for Sir Hartley and Lady Frances Jeaffreson — Kat had barely spoken to him. But according to Camille — and Kat knew it to be true just from the man’s body language and 404

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

demeanor — he was his own greatest admirer. Dominant by nature, he had apparently established himself as the Alpha male among the servants, taking his pick of the women and holding the other men at bay by sheer force of character and aggression. And arrogant? — although obliged to at least pay lip service to Kat’s ascending superiority in the Chateau Levequ hierarchy, there was always that mocking, insolent light in his eyes whenever she encountered him. With an effort, she mentally shored up her own self-assurance. Today, she decided, would be interesting. Today, she would get to know Calvin better, and he her. Having left the grounds of the chateau behind them, they rode along a sunlight dappled track through the forest. They were an unlikely couple, and if Calvin was somewhat overdressed as the country squire, then the very shapely, attractive young woman who rode beside him might have just walked off a movie set cast in the role of Sheena. She wore only moccasins, an upper thigh length skort designed to look like a loincloth, and a tiny matching halter, all in soft tan leather, and for a while she felt a little self-conscious at the bizarre contrast in their appearance. Calvin, imperious in the saddle, looked like master of all he surveyed, whereas she, riding scantily clad beside him, might easily be mistaken for one of his possessions, an illusion reinforced by the way he periodically glanced at her to remove with his eyes what little clothing she wore. But then she reminded herself of the reasons she had dressed thus for the day. There were two: one, simply that it was good to have the breeze caress her body coolly as she rode in the growing heat of the sun, the other…well, that would come to fruition later in the day. She also reminded herself that, despite appearances, it was she who had the power, and she intended to wield it. But not just yet. “So, Calvin, tell me a little about yourself. You know, I know almost nothing about you.” 405

Judith Devere

He looked aside at her, grinned. “I’d say we know each other intimately.” Kat smiled. “Oh, I know your body well enough, that’s true.” “And?” “And what?” “You like it, don’t you? Especially my cock?” Surprisingly, considering everything she had seen and done over the past months, Kat was taken aback by Calvin’s immodest bluntness. “You’re very sure of yourself.” “Yes, I am. I know I’m good looking; why deny it? I also have a good body that I work to keep in shape, and a cock that women crave. I don’t believe in false modesty.” “No, you don’t, do you?” Kat said, smiling indulgently, as she might at an ingenuous child, then added more seriously. “You understand that I have complete authority over you, of course?” “Oh, I do. You’ve done very well for yourself here, whereas I’m still no more than a servant. But I’m not stupid; I’ll do whatever I have to do to avoid being accused of disobedience or…disrespect.” Kat looked at him hard. “You walk a fine line on that count, Calvin; a very fine line. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” “I think I know how far to go. But, listen, I like it here. Sure, the work is menial, but I’m earning a small fortune and all in all I have a pretty good life; all the women I can handle — unofficially, of course.” He leered briefly, then continued, “I don’t intend to lose what I have here, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let people walk all over me” “What if I should choose to walk all over you?” “I’m betting that you won’t. I know what you want from me.” At this, Kat felt a hot flash of anger at the sheer arrogance of the man, and was barely able to conceal it from him. But she didn’t want anything to interfere with her plans for the day, so 406

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

she simply replied, coolly, “If I choose to, I can have that and teach you a lesson in humility. I have that power over all the servants.” “Maybe,” he answered, his tone bristling with confidence. “But even if I’ve misjudged you, I’m tough. Tough enough to handle anything you can hand out.” Kat shrugged. “Well, let’s not pursue this topic now; I’m bored with it. Let’s just enjoy the ride.” “Fine, and that brings me to a question.” “Yes?” “Where are we going?” “Pelican Bay.” Her reply seemed to surprise him for a moment, but then he smiled, knowingly. “Pelican Bay. The scene of our first…encounter. Do I need to ask why?” Although the conclusion he had obviously leapt to was not entirely inaccurate — not entirely — Kat’s response was casual, off-hand. “Why did I ask you to come riding with me today?” she answered, not quite addressing his actual question and deliberately deflecting its point. “I felt like male company.” Calvin flashed her a taunting smile. “Really? Well… Ma’am… I’m here for you whenever you want it… sorry, I mean… me.” Kat laughed, not seeking to disabuse him of his apparent conviction that he was in control of the situation. In her head, though, she added another black mark to the score he was rapidly accumulating against himself. “An interesting thought,” she replied, without so much as a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’ll bear that in mind. This could be a long day.” For a while they rode in silence, save for the clopping of the horses’ hooves on the stony track. At length the terrain got steeper as they rode south, and then east up along the convoluted folds of the steep ravine leading to the ridge of the mountain 407

Judith Devere

range that formed the island’s rugged spine, running roughly north to south. On their right, the wall of the ravine rose steeply; on the left it fell away equally steeply, making their ascent potentially hazardous. Fortunately, though, the horses were surefooted and seemed at ease with their surroundings. Now that they had left the shade of the forest canopy, and were moving between low banks of jungle scrub interspersed with squat palms and giant ferns, the sun, moving steadily toward its zenith, was beating down with tangible vigor. As Kat had anticipated, the skimpy halter and skort she wore allowed the breeze to caress her body and temper the sun’s heat, whereas, she noticed, damp patches of perspiration were blossoming on Calvin’s formerly pristine white shirt. “Heat getting to you?” she asked, breezily. Calvin shook his head. “Not a problem. I’ve been in places much hotter than this. I don’t mind the heat. In fact, coming from Chicago I appreciate it. Winters there can be ferocious.” “And what would a handsome black stud do for a living in Chicago,” she asked. He laughed — good-naturedly, this time. “I started my working life as a motor mechanic. Hated it, but it paid for acting lessons and then the Academy of Performing Arts. “You’re an actor, then?” He nodded. “I thought Camille would have told you that.” “I didn’t ask her. A successful one?” “Hey, I know you’re in the same profession. You know how it is — there are thousands of us out there; not enough work to go round. I moved to L.A. — about the best place for actors looking for work. I did okay, but the money I earn here is more than I could dream of seeing from bit parts in movies and on TV.” “Did you have another job on the side? A lot of actors do, to make ends meet.” He grinned. “Sure. And that was steady money, not to 408

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

mention some pretty generous tips.” Kat raised an eyebrow, prompting him to elaborate. His grinned widened. “I was a stripper.” “Really?” She might have guessed. It was the perfect sideline for a man with a body like Calvin’s and an ego to match. “Really. And I didn’t just jerk about and taker my clothes off. I learned to dance at the Academy, too. If I set out to do something, I usually do it well.” “You’ll have to show me your routine some time.” “My pleasure,” he answered. “It wouldn’t be the first time I danced for an audience consisting of just one woman. Usually as a prelude, of course; let her get an eyeful of what she’s going to enjoy later.” Before Kat could think of a suitably acerbic response, he exclaimed, “Wow! Isn’t that something. You know, every time I make this trip this view knocks me out.” Despite her exasperation at Calvin’s apparently endless conceit, she had to agree with him on this last statement. They had reached the top of the mountain range and almost the entire eastern side of the island, verdant with forest and vast stands of coconut palms, lay far below them. All along the coast pale golden strands of sand lay sandwiched at intervals between the green fringes of the littoral and the sparkling aquamarine waters of the Caribbean. The mountains on this side of the island fell away, sheer in parts, until swallowed up hundreds of feet below by lush, emerald rainforest. Stunted trees, ferns and flowering shrubs sprang from crevices in the rock walls, creating the enormous hanging garden effect that Kat remembered so well from her last visit here. To the north, nestling in the forest between the ocean and towering vertical cliffs, lay the lagoon at Pelican Bay, from this distance looking like a shimmering liquid jewel at the foot of a petrified waterfall. As she gazed at it, mixed 409

Judith Devere

emotions stirred inside her, for it was in the forest surrounding the lagoon that the man beside her had raped her. Yet the breathtaking natural beauty of the place could never be marred by such an event…about which Kat also harbored mixed feelings anyway. They urged the horses cautiously on down the steeply sloping track for about two hundred yards, where it veered sharply north to become no more than a ledge cut out of the cliff face. For the most part about six feet wide, the ledge followed a potentially perilous descending route, disappearing into depressions in the rock at intervals to appear again further along. They would have to ride in single file, and Kat led the way with only slightly less trepidation than the last time she had made this journey. Then, she had had to brave the terrifying prospect that the way ahead might become impassable and pose the problem of trying turn Sam around to get back. Now, she knew that no such obstacle existed, but even so, the descent to the foot of the towering cliffs was still an adrenaline generating experience, with a sheer drop of hundreds of feet just a mere stumble to the right. And so it was with a small sigh of relief on Kat’s part that they eventually reached the clearing in the forest at the foot of the cliffs. The horses fell at once to cropping the lush green turf with, Kat fancied, a little nervous gratitude of their own. “What now?” Calvin asked. Kat threw her leg over Sam’s mane and slid to the ground. “We tether the horses, and go to find the sacrificial rock.” A puzzled frown wrinkled Calvin’s brow. “The what?” Kat smiled. “Just my name for it. You’ll see.” When they had tethered the horses, Kat led the way into the forest where they followed a serpentine track through the green, otherworldly light cast by the sun through the canopy. After five minutes or so, they took a smaller track that led off to the left from the main one. Soon, this track petered out entirely as the 410

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

trees thinned a little and the ground ahead sloped uphill slightly. Here the springy turf with its carpet of ferns was scattered with rocks and boulders worn smooth by aeons of rain and the seasonal watershed from the cliffs which, although not now visible through the forest canopy, Kat knew towered above them just a few hundred yards ahead. Calvin followed her up the slope until she suddenly stopped. “There.” she said, pointing to a smooth, flat, oval-shaped slab of rock that protruded some feet above the ground about twenty yards away. “The sacrificial rock. Surely you remember.” Judging by the smoldering light that glimmered in his eyes, Calvin now not only remembered, but also understood her reference to sacrifice. “I’m impressed,” he said, quietly, “and flattered, which is something I thought was beyond me. You actually knew how to find the place where we…where I…” “Raped me,” she said, flatly, her face expressionless as she regarded him. “You loved it,” Calvin sneered. “Enjoyed every second of it. You can’t say you didn’t. Isn’t that why you brought me here? You want a repeat performance.” “Sort of,’ Kat replied, walking toward the rock. “But first, let’s have a glass of wine. Always a pleasant prelude to sex, I think. Don’t you?” Calvin watched, his expression one of puzzlement again now as Kat reached for a large leather bag which he only now noticed lying on top of the rock. She opened the bag, took out two wineglasses and a bottle of Burgundy that had been opened then sealed airtight again with a vacuum stopper. Opening the wine she began pouring it into the glasses. He walked after her, stood beside her by the rock. “How did this…?” he began, clearly perplexed by the presence of the bag and the wine. 411

Judith Devere

“I arranged it in advance, of course,” Kat said, cutting his question off and handing him one of the glasses. He shook his head, his self-assurance burgeoning again now. “No doubt doctored by Ming. I don’t need it to give you what you want from me, so don’t ask me to drink it.” Kat pushed the wineglass against his chest. “I’m not asking you to drink it Calvin; I’m telling you.” For an instant, a defiant light glimmered in his eyes, then died, presumably banished by the recollection that Kat occupied a position of considerable authority at Chateau Levequ. No matter how confident he might be of his own ability to manipulate her sexually, it appeared he was not reckless enough to risk the possibility — however unlikely — that she might have him removed from the position he valued so much, and ultimately, from the island itself. He shrugged, accepted the glass and drank the wine down in one. Kat shook her head. “Calvin, that’s no way to treat Armand Levequ’s fine Burgundy. A man in your position, used to waiting table for discerning guests, you should know better.” Kat’s emphasis on the nature of his work was not lost on Calvin, and he almost, not quite, scowled as he answered her. “I drank the stuff, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough…Ma’am?” An exaggerated sigh eased from Kat’s lips. “I suppose it will do,” she said, taking the wineglass from him and slipping it back into the bag. Removing the bag from the rock, she set it down on the grass nearby then sat on the low hanging bough of a tree, one foot on the ground. Raising her glass to her lips, she drank. “Mm, delicious. Well balanced fruit and tannin; good body.” She lowered her glass, a small, slightly crooked smile playing across her lips as she met his gaze. “Speaking of which, you can take your clothes off now.” 412

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Nodding acknowledgement, he reached for his waistcoat buttons, began undoing them. “What about you?” “Not just yet. I want to watch you as I drink my wine. Then I’ll undress too.” “Fine,” he grinned. “I’ve been looking forward to this; it’s been a long time.” He undressed unhurriedly and tantalizingly, the legacy, Kat guessed of his former part-time career as a stripper. She watched him with hungry eyes, and in the satisfying knowledge that the cunning combination of ingredients in the concoction she had procured from Ming earlier had been introduced to his wine only, its purpose not being suited to her own needs. The small phial of liquid had been in the bag also, Kat surreptitiously drizzling its contents into his glass before filling it with wine. One by one, he removed his clothing, not bothering to fold or arrange it, but tossing it aside with macho nonchalance. Kat felt her throat constrict, her mouth go dry as she watched the incremental exposure of each expanse of hard muscular flesh. His skin gleamed like black velvet in the subdued light of the forest. His eyes never left hers, so that each time she looked back into his face after regarding some newly revealed part of his body, she met the intensity of his gaze. Finally, he remained clad in only his briefs, the cotton stretched, it seemed, almost to the point of being torn asunder by his straining erection. Slipping his thumbs into the sides of the garment, he pushed it down over his thighs. No longer imprisoned, the Black Bishop, swollen, rigid, sprang free, upright and eager to take its prize. Kat drank the last of her wine then walked across to where she had left the lather bag on the ground. Bending on one knee, she stoppered the bottle and returned it with her wineglass to the leather bag. When she rose again, she turned to face Calvin, crossed her arms to grasp the sides of her halter top, then slid it up over her head, bearing her breasts in the process. Then, as he 413

Judith Devere

had done with his briefs a few minutes earlier, she slipped her thumbs into the sides of her skort and pushed it down over her thighs, in her case unveiling her smoothly depilated sex. Calvin made to move toward her but she halted him with a hand gesture. “No,” she said. “On the rock. I want you on your back on top of the rock. I am going to fuck you this time.” “Oh, I get it. Role reversal, that it?” When Kat said nothing, he added, “All right, sure. I’m good with that.” He clambered onto the rock, lay back supporting his body on his elbows. ““No,” Kat said. “Lie down flat.” He complied, the only part of him now remaining upright — albeit at a rakish angle — his penis. Like some pagan fertility symbol carved from jet, it stood tall and proud, swaying rhythmically to the beat of his heart. “Shit!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what you put in the wine but my cock is throbbing. It’s so Goddam’ hard it feels its going to burst.” “Don’t worry,” she told him as she reached for the bag again to remove something from it. “It’s quite safe, but you’re going to be very hard for a long time.” “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I can go as long as you want without any help from Ming.” Kat was standing by the rock now, looking down at him. “Give me your hand.” Hesitantly, he offered her his right hand. She grasped his wrist and began looping a length of hemp rope around it. He resisted. “Hey, what’s that?” “Relax, it’s just rope. Remember the last time we were here? It’s what you did to me before…” He relaxed, smiled. “Oh, the role reversal thing again. Okay, 414

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

might be fun at that.” She fastened the rope around his wrist, securing it with knots she had learned from Saito San. Then she fastened the free end to the same tree Calvin had used when he had bound her. A few minutes later, his left wrist was similarly bound to a tree, his arms spread-eagled out from the rock, upon which he now lay helpless. As she looked at him thus, conflicting emotions simmered in her breast. On one level she disliked him for his arrogance and conceit, for his dumb insolence toward her, and yet on another her body betrayed her. Though she hated to admit it, he was right, his self-assuredness well founded where she was concerned, because she did want him. She wanted desperately to be overpowered by that muscular black body as she had been before, to be claimed and possessed by his monstrously beautiful manhood. But she couldn’t give into that craving now; not yet. He had to be taught his place in the hierarchy — her hierarchy. Scrambling up onto the rock, she knelt astride his waist, then began moving up his body, rotating her hips against him so that her sex, moist and slick, slid over and around the ridges of his abdominal muscles. She moaned softly at the sensation, a washboard of hard muscular flesh massaging at her clitoris in its passing. When she reached his neck, her labia slipped easily, snail like, up along the cartilage of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously against the hot little nub of flesh at their center. And now she was poised above his face, his depthless black eyes staring up at her as if hypnotized; perhaps he was, in a way. Reaching between her thighs, she took her labia between the fingers and thumbs of each hand, drawing them aside to make a delicate pink butterfly of her sex. As she slowly lowered her hips, the butterfly descended. She shuddered as the lips of her sex came in contact with his mouth, uttered a low growl deep in her throat as he lanced her vulva with his tongue, turning it this way and that to explore her hidden depths. And then he was 415

Judith Devere

licking at her clitoris, the tip of his tongue flicking and rolling to transmit ripples of pure pleasure deep into her womb. She came; suddenly and violently, her strangled cry resounding through the forest and setting flocks of multicolored birds to flight in alarm. And as the orgasm receded, another began to burgeon in its place. She began to move her hips, slowly at first but picking up momentum quickly. Back and forth, round and around, she sponged his entire face with her oozing sex, allowing his ceaselessly questing tongue access to her innermost secrets. And then she slid back down his body, hovering for a moment over his straining cock, before impaling herself upon it. She groaned as the shaft seemed to pierce her to the core of her being, filling and stretching her exquisitely. She rode him hard, rising and falling like a horsewoman at a fast trot. But though she climaxed several times, he failed to do so, though not for the want of trying. Each time her own orgasm effloresced then exploded, his face contorted with strain and anguish, yet still he did not achieve release. Kat’s eyes were wide, a demonic smile distorting her lips as she rode him through orgasm after delicious orgasm. “Don’t you want to come, Calvin. Oh, come along, do. Let it all go inside me. Flood my cunt with your come.” His eyes bulged with exertion. Sweat broke out on his brow, running into his eyes. “C…can’t,” he gasped, hoarsely. “Can’t…come. Wha…what have you…done to…me?” With a final shudder, Kat slowly eased herself off him. “Mmmmm,” she murmured, shivering as his glistening member slipped from her sex. “That was very good.” Climbing off the rock, she picked up her clothes and put them in the leather bag. “That was warm work; I think I’ll go for a swim to cool off.” Calvin raised his head, craning his neck to watch in disbelief as she strode off. “Hey, wait. What about me? Set me loose first.” 416

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Ignoring him, Kat disappeared into the trees, only then allowing the immensely gratifying sense of dominance over the man who represented the single threat to her authority to bring a wicked smile to her lips. There was unconcealed panic in his voice now as he called out after her. “No! Please. Don’t leave me here like this. Let me go!” She pictured him in her absence struggling impotently against his bonds, his beautiful but temporary ineffectual muscles bulging with the effort. But there would be no escape for Calvin until Kat chose to free him; she had learned her rope-work well from the Sensei. **** It was almost two hours later when Kat returned to the sacrificial rock to find Calvin lying there, apparently exhausted from his struggles, yet still sporting a fiercely proud erection. She now wore the hideous goat’s head mask that he himself had worn when he raped her on the very rock to which he was now so securely bound. Apart from the mask, she was still quite naked. In her right hand she carried the leather bag, in which, among other things, the wine, the mask and the ropes now securing Calvin to the rock had been delivered here in accordance with her instructions. When he saw her, Calvin seemed disconcerted by the mask, but was nevertheless visibly relieved by her return. “Thank God. I thought you were going to leave me here to die.” Kat set the bag down on the ground and removed from it something that glinted dully in the diffused light that filtered through the forest canopy. Rising to her feet again, she stood, looking down at him through the black holes that were goat’s eyes. “Why would I want to do that?” 417

Judith Devere

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Revenge, I guess.” “Mm, a good point. But I don’t want your life, merely your submission and unconditional recognition of my authority over you.” At that he seemed to suddenly regain some of his customary defiance. “Dream on, sweetheart,” he sneered scornfully. “And why the mask? The role reversal thing again?” “Mistress.” “What?” “Not sweetheart; Mistress. That is how you will address me.” “I don’t think so,” he began, “not here with no witnesses. We both know… Whoa!” It was the sight of the big hunting knife as Kat removed her hand from behind her back that prompted Calvin’s exclamation, and banished from his mind whatever he had been about to say. The blade flashed briefly in a thread of sunlight as she deftly slid it under his jaw to lay the razor edge against his throat. “Hey, be careful with that thing. Crazy bitch!” “Bitch, am I?” Kat responded, drawing the flat of the knife lightly down across his chest and over his belly. “Then you may be in serious trouble.” “No!” he screamed, as she grazed the blade slowly up and down the length of his stiff and swollen penis, then held it to his testicles. Beads of perspiration popped to life on his brow. “Please,” he begged, huskily. “Please…be careful.” Ignoring his plea, Kat said, “I’m going to tie your legs now. Don’t try to resist…unless you want to become the island eunuch. Do you understand? You don’t have to speak, just nod if you understand.” His eyes wide with fear now, Calvin nodded. Kat laid the knife on his abdomen, then took two more lengths of rope from the bag. She bound each of his legs in turn, looping and tying off the ropes just above the knee. Then she 418

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

pushed each of his legs back in turn, so that his thighs lay against his ribs, before securing the free ends of the ropes to his biceps. She stood back to appraise her work. Naked and trussed like a turkey, Calvin was about as vulnerable as a man could be, which was of course Kat’s intention. “Wha…what are you…doing to me?” he asked. “I don’t get it. I thought you wanted…” She moved closer to him. He flinched as she picked up the knife again with one hand, at the same time running the other along his inner thigh to his groin. He groaned as she slid her fingers gently up and down the length of his cock, then over and around his balls and down to the parted cleft between his muscular buttocks. He tensed as she softly grazed the black asterisk of his anus with a fingernail. “Ah,” she murmured. “Sensitive there, just as I expected.” Withdrawing her hand, she knelt to return the knife to the bag, at the same time taking two other items out. While kneeling on the ground she was beyond his field of vision, a fact that clearly caused him some consternation when she did not immediately rise to her feet again. “What are you doing down there?” he asked, anxiously. Although Kat gave him no reply, he received the answer to his question several minutes later when she rose from the ground. “No!” he shouted, straining hopelessly against the ropes that held him. “Not that. Oh, my God, no!” Kat smiled behind the mask. She had known that Calvin, of all men, would react like this. Now, at last, she had him exactly where she wanted him. The anticipation alone had made her wet with arousal; wet enough to allow her to easily slip the electronic component of Ming’s strap-on double penis inside her while she had been kneeling on the ground. Its twin counterpart now projected at a rigid upper angle from her loins, easily the equal of his cock, though ivory in color rather than black. She had 419

Judith Devere

metamorphosed to become a beautiful hermaphrodite, and as such she would be Calvin’s nemesis, rather than he hers. Reaching for the tiny control panel on the harness, now situated on her hip, she pressed the “On” switch and turned up the dial, momentarily closing her eyes and giving a little shiver as the artificial penis inside her began to vibrate and undulate. Calvin stared in horrified disbelief as she moved in close between his folded back thighs. “Aaah,” he gasped, as she introduced the nozzle of a soft plastic tube to the tightly crinkled hollow of his rectum. Clenching his buttocks was not really a practical proposition in his present posture, but he tried anyway. “No, no, no,” he cried, shaking his head from side to side when she inserted the nozzle and squeezed the tube. “Oooooh,” he groaned, as the tube slowly discharging its entire payload of lubricating gel inside him. “Please don’t do this to me. You win. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything. I’ll acknowledge your authority over me. I’ll submit to you. Please. Please.” Tossing the empty tube on the ground, Kat now guided the head of the latex cock between his buttocks. When it made contact with his flesh, nuzzling against his sphincter, he opened his mouth as if to scream. But he didn’t scream. Instead, he gulped a long, deep breath of air as she pushed forward, the gel enabling the cockhead to slip easily through the ring of muscle despite its tightness. He clenched his hands into fists and he began panting like a woman in childbirth as Kat drove the thick latex shaft into him. “Oh, God, please, no. NO!” The first few strokes, each driving deeper into his core than the last, were slow, deliberate, Kat’s intention being to reinforce Calvin’s perception that this really was happening to him; that he was having done to him what he had done to her and probably countless other women. But then her hips began to move to a 420

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

faster tempo, in time with the vibrating, alternately expanding and contracting second cock deep inside her sex. Calvin stared, by turns, up at the forest canopy as if seeking deliverance, and into the face of the goat’s head mask, the latter in the apparent hope that, even now, the eyes behind the black holes might register pity at his wretched plight and that Kat might relent. She did not relent. On the contrary, she picked up the pace to ream with increasing vigor the one time scourge of the female servants of Chateau Levequ. But as she fucked him, his facial contortions began to gradually undergo a transformation in character, from horror, through shame and degradation, to raw arousal and abandon. The transition had not taken long; during her stay at the Chateau Kat had progressed to become a skilled practitioner of her newfound range of disciplines. Reveling in her power over him, she redoubled her efforts. In response, his breathing took on a regular but ragged quality. His cock, if anything, grew yet more rigid, pulsing in time with the beat of his laboring heart. “Oh, my God!” Mounting lust unmistakable in his tone now. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” The ropes that bound him dug into his straining muscles as he writhed, as much as they would allow, on the surface of the sacrificial rock. He groaned as a man in deep pain, yet his eyes, wide and rolling, told a different story: that of a man who had lost control of his senses and was being driven inescapably toward orgasm. Her breasts rising and falling with her momentum and effort now, Kat suddenly pulled off the mask and threw it onto the ground, shaking her hair free as she did so. Her pale, ice blue eyes were bright with a fierce, cold light, which together with her feral smile gave her the appearance of some mythical warrior princess on the brink of victory. When she sensed that Calvin was beyond the point of no return, she raised her right hand in a 421

Judith Devere

signal. “So…who’s the bitch now, Calvin? You love it, don’t you, being fucked in the ass by Mistress? Isn’t this what you craved all long, but were too proud…or scared…to admit? Isn’t it…bitch?” “No,” he groaned, shaking his head vehemently. “Please…no. You..forced…mngg…oohh…forced…me.” Kat’s smile widened. “Shall I stop, then? I will if you ask me to.” “Ye…es. No! Oh God, I’m going to…” At that moment Camille, naked like Kat, stepped out from behind a tree. In her hand, the video camera that had recorded Calvin’s shame ridden ordeal thus far was still rolling. A partial transformation in his facial contortions — horrified comprehension blending with sweet, sensual anguish and imminent release — confirmed that he had seen her and realized the implications. Yet he was powerless to do anything but yield to the eruption from deep within his loins. Kat, too, surrendered to the orgasm she had been desperately withholding until this moment. Both man and woman convulsed in sudden, violent release, Calvin’s long denied orgasm manifest by a deep groan and the ejaculation of his semen; asymmetric liquid pearls spurting from his pulsating penis to spatter his belly, thighs and chest. As her own orgasm ebbed, Kat loosed a long satisfied sigh, then announced huskily, “White Queen takes Black Bishop. Checkmate.” When it was over and Calvin lay trembling and panting on the rock, soiled with his own emission, Kat and Camille stood over him, both smiling with satisfaction. His eyes were half closed, partly, Kat supposed, from post coital torpor and partly from abject shame. “There now,” she said. “It’s done. And I have to say, I 422

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

enjoyed it immensely. And so did you, didn’t you…bitch? Enjoyed being fucked in the ass by Mistress Kat?” Calvin moaned softly, then shrieked as Kat lashed out at his now flaccid penis with the back of her hand. “Answer me, bitch!” “I…” He turned his head away in a futile attempt to conceal his agonized expression from the two women. “Yes,” he whispered. “Louder.” “Yes.” “Yes what?” Calvin looked almost close to tears now as Kat pressed him. “Look at the camera, Calvin.” He looked. “Say it…in full. You know what I want to hear.” “I…enjoyed being….fucked…in the…ass.” “By?” “By…Mistress Kat.” Kat smiled. “Good boy. Now, from this moment on I require from you absolute respect, humility and obedience, and I don’t suppose I really need state the obvious, but I will — that any departure from that requirement will result in the circulation of copies of Camille’s video to the entire population of L’Île des Désirs. Nobody will know that the concoction I laced your wine with, though inducing an erection that would last for hours, would not allow you experience an orgasm other than by anal penetration. They will obviously conclude from the video that Calvin the macho stud has simply reverted to type and become Mistress Kat’s bitch. And remember, that prospect can be made reality whenever I choose. “We are going back down to the beach now; I need to clean up before I make love to Camille. I will cut you loose first, and you will be gone by the time we return. You know where to find 423

Judith Devere

your horse?” Calvin nodded, wretchedly. When she had cut him free, Kat smiled broadly. “Well,” she said. “Au revoir, then.”

424

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Nineteen

W

hen she was still back at Rylands, during that uneasy time between her agreement to indenture herself to Armand and his actually sending for her, Kat had consoled herself with the thought that six months was, after all, a very short time. For the sake of her father, she had reasoned, she could withstand almost anything for so brief a period that, when it was behind her, it would fade from her memory like all the other unpleasant episodes in her life. But during the days immediately following her arrival at Chateau Levequ, time had seemed to virtually stand still, so that the months assumed the daunting dimensions of years. She had not known what to expect in the service of Armand Levequ, but imagined that whatever awaited her could not possibly be more depraved or degrading than what he had done to her in gazebo on the night of the annual reception. How naïve she had been then. And how wrong. Now, with only a week of her six months’ indenture left, she was a different woman. During her time here she had been subjected to treatment the old Katrina Mandell could never have imagined in her most fevered hallucinations. She had been sexually used and abused in more ways than she could remember, had endured exquisite pain and humiliation at the hands of aficionados whose expertise in such matters must surely be without equal anywhere. The hours and days and weeks of 425

Judith Devere

degradation had seemed to exist in a timeless continuum at first, worsened by her growing awareness that, no matter how degenerate her treatment, there was a part of her that yearned to embrace it. It had begun like a tiny spark in the night, but had grown incrementally, fuelled by each new dark and dissolute experience, to become a raging inferno of passion and lust. The inferno had eventually consumed Katrina Mandell, leaving Mistress Kat to rise from the ashes like some bright, yet simultaneously dark, amoral phoenix. So as the months passed and Kat increasingly accepted, then espoused her new life, time had evolved through a kind of deflation to rampant inflation. Six months ago all she wanted in life was to be free of Chateau Levequ and her custodian tormentors; now the thought of leaving was unbearable and the hours seemed to be eroding like minutes. She still had no idea why Armand had had her brought here, but today, she suspected, all would be revealed. She had an interview with Madam SIN in just one hour’s time. **** “Come in Kat,” Madam SIN called, rightly assuming that it was Kat who had rung the bell at the door to her suite. Kat opened the door and stepped inside. Madam SIN was sitting at her vast antique desk. “Good morning, Kat,” “Good morning, Christina.” Madam SIN gestured with her hand toward a ladderback chair on the opposite side of her desk. “Please. Sit down. We have to talk.” Kat felt nervous. Her mouth was dry and an unpleasant thrill slithered in her belly. It wasn’t like Christina to be so formal with her since her elevation in status; did it mean that she was about 426

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

to break bad news of some sort? Seeming to recognize Kat’s discomfiture as she took her seat, Madam SIN said, “Don’t look so apprehensive, Kat, I simply want to explain some things to you.” “Explain?” “The reason for your being here. And the implications for you.” Kat’s heart began to pound, her pulse thumping in her ears. For a moment she feared she might faint, but managed to get a grip on herself. “I am not a young woman, Kat. The demands of being Mistress of Chateau Levequ for so many years have taken their toll. Don’t misunderstand me; I have derived immense satisfaction and…” she smiled “…more than a little pleasure from the experience, but the time has come, in both my own interests and those of Armand Levequ, for someone to replace me so that I can move to on the next phase of my life — graceful semi retirement.” “But, you are…” Kat began, about to protest that she couldn’t imagine anyone more capable of occupying Madam SIN’s present role. “I am ready,” Madam SIN interrupted, “to hand over my responsibilities to someone younger and, I hope, at least as gifted as myself.” Suddenly it hit Kat like a physical blow. Christina was talking about her! She gripped the sides of her chair, resisting again her brain’s inclination to temporarily surrender consciousness. She wanted to speak, to ask what this all meant, but words wouldn’t come. “You seem surprised, Kat. You really hadn’t suspected?” Kat took a deep breath. “I…” She shook her head. “No. NO. I had no idea. Me? How could that ever be? I don’t understand.” “Marguerite Mandell, your stepmother was submissive; you 427

Judith Devere

know that already. And she was in a sado-masochistic relationship with Armand. You, yourself, saw the evidence of that when you spied on them in his guest bedroom at Rylands. Armand has been in the life for many years, and is adept at recognizing in others the propensity and inclination toward that lifestyle. He had already recognized it in you, but had assumed that, like your stepmother, you were inherently submissive. When you slapped his face the morning after you had witnessed his treatment of Marguerite, he realized that you might also possess inherent, if hitherto dormant, dominant qualities also. It was a possibility in which he discerned a potential solution to a problem that was looming on the not too distant horizon — that of my impending retirement. As usual in such things, he was right. And I, myself, have made no secret of the fact that I consider you to be a natural, both in terms of submission and domination; you have demonstrated your excellence in that respect over and again while you have been here. You also possess creative flair and imagination when it comes to devising playlets and scenarios. In short, you are a very gifted young woman, and I believe you possess all the necessary qualities to replace me here at the chateau.” Kat shook her head in dismay. This was the last thing she had expected. “I…can’t…believe it,” she whispered. “Believe it. Before that could happen, though, you would have to undergo, and pass, a final test. But first, of course, you must decide whether you want to be my replacement.” “But I don’t understand why… I mean, why not Frederique; she is your deputy, after all.” “And an excellent one. But she has no desire to succeed me as Mistress of Chateau Levequ on a permanent basis. There are certain aspects of my role that do not appeal to her, and frankly, neither I nor Armand believe that she is right for the position. You, yourself, have come to know Frederique…quite well.” A 428

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

smile played briefly with Madam SIN’s lips at this. “And I think you will agree when I say that she lacks the…firmness, or perhaps I should say the ruthlessness, to govern this island and its inhabitants as they need to be governed. Frederique, therefore, will remain as deputy to my successor.” Kat understood well enough; Frederique was simply too nice to fill Madam SIN’s shoes. “Then what about Ming? Surely she is the obvious…” “Ming excels in all of her various fields, and if Armand had not found you, she would almost certainly have been our choice. We all believe, though — and I include Ming herself when I say this — that you possess certain additional qualities and potential that she lacks.” “Really?” Kat responded, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing. Madam SIN nodded. “Really. For one thing, Ming tends to let her feelings run away with her sometimes, allowing her temper or mood to influence her in decisions that would benefit from more forethought. That is not one of your failings. Although passionate and capable of both bestowing pleasure and inflicting punishment, you are more rational. In some ways you are also more imaginative than Ming, and we all consider that you have as yet untapped potential in that regard. So, these and other considerations have led us to the view that you are almost certainly the woman for the job — if you really, really want it. And, of course, if you can pass the test. Do you want it, Kat?” “I should like it more than anything in the world, Christina.” The words were out before Kat even had time to consider them; there was nothing rational about that! She hadn’t even paused to think about the implications of her “test”, which surprised her, since the previous two had been the most demanding experiences she had ever undergone. Madam SIN was smiling expansively. “I’m so glad to hear 429

Judith Devere

that, Kat. And that you were able to make the decision instantly; it suggests to me that our confidence in you is not misplaced. Now, about the test…” Again Kat took the bull by the horns. “Christina, I’m ready to face it. However painful and humiliating it is to be, I know in my heart I can withstand it.” Madam SIN’s smile took on a slightly different character at this; instead of seeming merely pleased, she now appeared amused. “Now that is ironic.” Kat was puzzled. “How so?” “Because this time you will be the one inflicting the pain and humiliation…upon Ming.” This confounded Kat even more. “Upon Ming? But I thought...” “The objective of your final test will be to subjugate Ming, to break her will as you might a wild horse. To pass that test, you must compel her to verbally acknowledge you as her Mistress.” Kat’s spirits sank. Ming. Surely, the proud Chinese dominatrix would die rather than acknowledge Kat as her Mistress. The task seemed impossible. Clearly recognizing Kat’s despondency, Madam SIN said, “Don’t be pessimistic, Kat. It is a truly daunting challenge, I grant you, but not impossible. There is always a way. Ming must have an Achilles’ heel. Look for it and exploit it. You will have just thirty minutes to do with her as you will, the only constraint being that you must not inflict serious or permanent injury on her. For her part, she will be required to show you proper respect; there will be none of the customary contempt and arrogance she displays toward those she regards as subordinate to her. But don’t let that lure you into a false sense of security; Ming is a tough nut to crack. You face an enormous challenge, Kat, but the prize is a rare one indeed: to become Mistress of Chateau Levequ.” 430

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

A thought occurred to Kat. “How does Ming feel about this?” “You can never be sure with Ming. She would never show fear, and so she seems to view the prospect matter-of-factly, perhaps even with disdain. She’s ready for you, Kat; you must make yourself ready for her. You have exactly one week to prepare.” “Christina?” “Yes?” “What if I…fail?” Madam SIN’s expression hardened. “If you fail, then Ming will become Mistress of Chateau Levequ by default and you can no longer stay here. “Not stay? But why? Couldn’t I assume Ming’s present role?” Madam SIN shook her head gravely. “No, Kat. Ming would always see you as a threat and that would have an adverse impact on life here in general, and on the quality of service that Armand’s friends and associates expect during their visits. But on the other hand, Ming possesses tremendous self-discipline, and will stand by her principles. If you pass the test and she acknowledges you as Mistress, she will accept your authority and serve you unconditionally. If you fail, you must leave L’Île des Désirs forever.”

431

Judith Devere

Chapter Twenty

T

omorrow, Kat was to face her final test, and although she had worked night and day preparing for it she was terrified at the prospect. If she failed, she would be banished forever from this beautiful island and the life she come to view as the reason for her existence. Following its transition from prison to home, Chateau Levequ had become the center of that existence. But there was nothing to be gained by wallowing in self-doubt and fear. She had done everything she could think of to optimize her prospects in the test, and if fate decreed that tonight was to be her last night on the island, then she would make the most of it. And as it happened, there was an imminent event that would help in that respect. Tonight, there was to be a masked ball and Frederique had promised Kat that it would be one of the most exotic and extravagant ever held at Chateau Levequ. During the course of the past week various guests had been arriving on the island, several of whom Kat had already come to know — intimately — when they had visited previously. Their number, totaling around thirty, included Lady Frances and Sir Hartley Jeaffreson and their friends, Sultan Mahmood Al Haq and his lovely concubine, Yasmeen; James and Margot Vanderbruck; an English prince and his bride of only two months; a stunning black French fashion model named Janine; and the South African widow of a diamond 432

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

merchant and her son, whose virginity — with Madam SIN’s connivance — she had contrived to personally relieve him of during their previous stay. Local residents in the service of Armand Levequ would supplement the otherwise exclusive gathering of off-island guests this evening, so that, according to Frederique, there would be more than a hundred people present at the ball. It promised to be a remarkable occasion, which with any luck and liberal drafts of Armand’s fine wine, should help take Kat’s mind off tomorrow’s ordeal. But the masked ball was nearly eight hours away, and so Kat had decided to pass the time in what was now one of her few non-carnal pleasures. It was a beautiful day, the sun’s heat tempered by a delicious breeze as she strode through the grounds toward the stables. A perfect afternoon for riding. **** It was exactly seven-thirty when Kat was awoken by the chime of her doorbell. She had returned from riding late in the afternoon and, after showering, had lain naked on her bed intending only to rest for a while. Instead, she had fallen asleep and dreamed, for the first time in months, of Rylands — an omen, perhaps, of her impending exile from L’Île des Désirs? Consciously dismissing that thought from her mind, she rose and walked to the door. It was Camille, looking demure in a white peasant style dress overprinted with blue cornflowers. As the door opened her pupils widened reflexively to accommodate the image of her still naked Mistress. “Seven-thirty, Mistress, as you instructed.” “I said seven o’clock,” Kat said, sternly. “To help me dress for the masquerade. Now I shall be late.” “No, Mistress, really, you said seven-thirty.” Camille held out 433

Judith Devere

a small sheet of notepaper. “See, I made a note of the time just after you told me.” “You forget yourself, Camille. First you are late, then you call Mistress a liar.” “Oh, no, Mistress. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I didn’t mean to say… To call you…” Camille lowered her eyes. “I must have made a mistake, Mistress.” “That, you certainly did. Go to the bedroom.” Camille stepped inside and went to the bedroom, followed by Kat. “Take off your clothes, Camille.” A look of pleasant anticipation stirred the dark liquid depths of Camille’s eyes as she crossed her arms and dipped to grasp her dress just below the waist. Wriggling in a way Kat found most provocative, she hauled it up her body and off over her head. Placing the dress on the bed, she turned to face Kat again. Now wearing only high heeled sandals, a brassiere and matching silk panties, she remained briefly motionless as if to offer Kat a moment or two to absorb the delectable prospect before her. Her underwear was a darker shade of coffee than her flesh, and was trimmed with a froth of cream lace. Now she began to remove it. Her breasts, dusky luscious fruits, quivered but remained firm as she unclasped and pulled away the brassiere. The silk panties rustled enticingly over her thighs on their journey to the floor. Now Camille stood naked before Kat, the embryo of a smile on her lips in the knowledge that she was exquisitely desirable. “Oh, Camille,” Kat said with unconcealed admiration, “you really are a beauty. Such a pity that you insist on misbehaving so that Mistress has to punish you.” The embryo smile faded. “Oh. I thought you wanted to… That we were going to…” “Make…love? No, no, my dear. Your offences cannot go 434

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

unpunished. I may let you pleasure me later, but first…go to the dressing table. Take out the cane from the top drawer.” Camille’s mouth fell open. “The …cane. Oh, please Mistress, not that. It hurts terribly. Couldn’t you just spank me this time?” “The cane. Bring it to me. Now.” “Yes, Mistress,” Camille replied, her voice little more than a whisper. Her hands were trembling as she handed the cane to Kat. It was indeed a cruel instrument, nearly four feet long and very slender and pliant. Kat knew from her own experience that even a hesitant stroke burned like hot wire on the flesh, and when laid on with vigor, the pain blossomed and spread into one’s loins and belly in an excruciating thrill of agony. “The stool, I think, Camille.” Understanding at once, Camille walked to the dressing table, picked up the low upholstered stool and placed it on the floor between the foot of the bed and the dressing table. Facing the dressing table, she bent from the waist to grip the sides of the stool, so that her head and shoulders were now lower than her waist, and her ponytail hung toward the floor over her left shoulder. In this position Kat could stand behind her and at the same time see her face in the dressing table mirror. “Feet apart, Camille.” Camille obeyed, thus treating Kat to a delicious sense of déjà vu. It was in this exact same place and stance that Katrina, as she was then, had first spanked Camille with her ebony hairbrush. As she looked down at the mulatto now, the same sensation as then thrilled her senses. The opening between Camille’s thighs presented a perfect view of her hairless sex, a plump mound of dark satin flesh, cleft through the middle like a sliced ripe plum. Her buttocks, glossy and round, were parted just enough to reveal the darkly puckered orifice at their center. Looking up at Kat’s reflection in the mirror, Camille 435

Judith Devere

murmured now, as she had done the last time, “I’m ready, Mistress.” Camille watched apprehensively through the mirror as Kat raised the hand that held the cane, then brought it down with a loud swish. “Mmnngg!” Camille’s eyes sprang open wide, her cry of pain stifled in her throat behind clenched teeth and tightly pressed lips as the cane cut across her buttocks. A dark welt rose at once on the tender flesh, but even before it had fully formed Kat laid another cruel stroke alongside it. Somehow, Camille contrived to contain her inner scream of pain again, though tears ran down her cheeks and spilled onto the floor. By the fourth stroke, she had begun to squirm and dip from the knee in response, but it was not until the sixth that she lost control and gave vent to an unrestrained cry of agony. “Just six more, darling,” Kat cooed. “Then it will be over.” Now Camille was sobbing. “Please, Mistress, no more. It hurts so much. I can’t bear it. My bottom is on fire. Have pity on…”

Thwack! “Aaiiyyeeee!”

Camille clenched her buttocks, rubbed her thighs together.

Thwack! “Aaaarrgghh !

“Please, Mistress, no more, no…”

Thwack! “NOOOOOOOO!

As Kat delivered the last final three strokes Camille first slumped onto the stool on her belly, then slid onto her knees where she sobbed her heart out. Kat tossed the cane onto the bed and knelt beside her. “There, there, darling one,” she murmured, softly, putting her arm around the wretched mulatto. “It’s all over now.” 436

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Camille turned into Kat, her tears spilling on her Mistress’s breasts. “Oh, Mistress, that hurt so dreadfully.” “It gave me much pleasure.” Camille sniffed tearfully. “I want…to give you…pleasure.” “I know you do, dear. Come pleasure me now. I am very aroused, very wet.” Kat rose, sat on the foot of the bed and spread her legs, opening her sex to the other woman. Still sobbing, Camille crawled on all fours between Kat’s parted thighs. Kat grasped her hair, pulled her into the V of her thighs. She moaned, long and deeply, as Camille inserted her tongue into her sex. Camille worked hard and skillfully, her tongue alternately delving into the heart of Kat’s vulva, then flickering around the rim to thrill the bud of her clitoris. It did not take long. Caning Camille, watching her suffer willingly and seeing the welts form a dark latticework across her buttocks had aroused Kat ferociously. Now, she threw back her head and came, loudly and without restraint, bucking against Camille’s face with each wave of liquid pleasure. And when the final spasm had shuddered to its conclusion, she looked down and saw that Camille was looking up at her. It was hard to distinguish the mulatto’s tears from the fluid outpouring of Kat’s womanhood, with which she had so copiously anointed Camille’s face. What was not difficult to discern was the expression of unqualified devotion in Camille’s eyes. The two women showered together with much kissing and embracing, and Kat lovingly bringing Camille to orgasm with her fingers in the process. Afterwards, Kat had Camille lie naked on her belly upon the bed while she applied soothing witch hazel lotion to her welts. Camille Oo-ed and Aah-ed as Kat applied the lotion. “Don’t be such a baby, Camille.” “I can’t help it, Mistress. It hurts such a lot.” “Good, it will make you think of me later.” 437

Judith Devere

Camille raised her hand, touching the studded leather collar that signified her subservience to Kat. “I think of you all the time, Mistress.” “You may call me Kat again now. Until we go to the ball, that is.” “You’re taking me to the ball?” Camille seemed surprised. “Yes. Why do you think I had someone deputize for you as Head of Household for the preparations? But you are going as my submissive, so you should be prepared for anything.” “I’ll be proud to be seen wearing your collar.” “Oh, you’ll be seen well enough,” Kat answered with a sardonic smile. “As will your new stripes.” “Ouch!” Camille responded, as Kat ran her fingers across the welts. “You mean you’re going to let everyone see them?” “Of course. They are very becoming. And besides, they reinforce the fact that you are mine to do with as I please.” “Yes, that’s true. I’ll be very ashamed though…and embarrassed.” Kat laughed. “Yes…and very aroused, you little slut.” At this Camille joined Kat in her laughter. **** It was the first time Kat had known the Great Hall to be used for any sort of function; since Chateau Levequ was huge and had any number of grand rooms in which small to medium sized social events might be hosted, it would rarely be necessary. But as Frederique had said, tonight’s masked ball was to be something special, and given the numbers attending, the Great Hall was the only real option. It was to the Great Hall that Kat and Camille — now an exotic looking pair, indeed — were heading, Kat leading the way through labyrinthine passageways and down ancient staircases. 438

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Kat’s dress and mask had been specially made to her own design and specifications in the style of a fifteenth century Venetian masquerade costume. The hem of the satin and brocade dress hovered an inch above the floor. Though full and slightly flared at the hip, the skirt cinched into a narrow waist, above which the tightly laced corseted bodice clung to every contour of her body that it covered. It did not cover her breasts, which were supported and displayed in all their magnificence by dint of a quarter-bra lower “neckline”. The material flowed and rustled when she walked, a shimmering concoction of metallic blue and gold. The colors were reflected in her half-face mask, which also sported fine crimson and silver ostrich feathers. The sheer opulence of the costume, contrasting with the showcasing of Kat’s naked breasts, made for a splendidly erotic spectacle, and the fact that she wore no underwear heightened her own arousal at being attired thus. Camille, on the other hand, was wearing underwear, although to no modest effect. In fact, she wore a pair of linen Regency style crotchless drawers — in effect, two knee length legs connected only by a drawstring around the waist. Apart from this very revealing garment — her sex and buttocks clearly visible as she walked — she was naked…unless you counted the plain black eye mask, her studded leather collar and the matching manacles by which her wrists were attached to it on each side by metal clips. The effect of this latter arrangement was to raise Camille’s arms, bent double at the elbow, thereby causing her breasts to protrude taut and high in a most provocative manner. A silver chain attached to the front of her collar allowed Kat to lead her like some exotic pet. At one point in their brief journey Kat stopped and turned to look at Camille. “How do you feel, little one?” Camille lowered her head. “Very humiliated, Mistress.” Kat smiled. “Good. And aroused?” 439

Judith Devere

Before Camille could reply, Kat inserted her hand into the divide of Camille’s drawers to place it on her sex. Her smile widened as her fingers slipped easily between the swollen labia to find the answer to her question in the drenched pleats of the mulatto’s vulva. The big double doors to the Great Hall faced those of the chateau’s main entrance on the opposite side of the enormous entrance hall. This evening, the doors were wide open, and light and music spilled into the entrance hall from within. Kat led Camille through the doorway and past the two liveried servants who were stationed at either side. They stepped over the threshold into the Great Hall, which was like entering a gigantic kaleidoscope of color and activity. From the numbers present Kat supposed that all or very nearly all of the guests had arrived. Not counting the servants, there were at least a hundred and fifty people milling in and around the cavernous banqueting hall and the various antechambers that opened off it. Without exception, the guests were attired in masquerade costumes, many of which, like Kat’s, were based on the ancient Venetian style, but there were was an eclectic variety of other styles also. While a few were simple or understated in their design, albeit effective enough in their own way, the majority of costumes and half-masks were remarkable for their fantastical and extravagant design and brilliant colors, and for the sumptuous materials from which they were made. Carnival had come to Chateau Levequ, and many of the costumes — the women’s mainly — were not only exotic, but also erotic; Kat was by no means the only female whose naked breasts were on display. And if the male servants’ attire was colorful but unremarkable — tight black breeches with codpieces and liveried jackets in yellow and green — their female counterparts’ attire was an entirely different story. Mostly, they wore floor length skirts that 440

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

sat low on their hips, but were naked above the waist. A few wore tightly fitting topless basques in a variety of bright colors, and nothing else but high heeled sandals. This left them effectively naked, the basques serving only to accentuate their nudity. The remaining female servants were entirely naked. The servants, men and women alike, busied themselves serving drinks to the guests or replenishing the sumptuous array of food on a long bench table in the center of the hall. Both Kat and Camille looked around in wonder. It was a dizzying, exciting scene, the experience like stepping back in time and dimension into some mediaeval fantasy realm where hedonism was the world order. The Great Hall alone was an impressive sight to behold, dominated by an intricately carved high vaulted stone ceiling. At ground level the walls were paneled in wood, but higher up this gave way to stonework where shields painted with heraldic devices hung at intervals. In daytime, Kat recalled, pools of colored light would lie scattered like gems about the polished wooden floor, but now, after dark, the proceedings were illuminated by flaming torches set in brackets along the walls, their flickering light adding a touch of hellish Hieronymus Bosch to the opulently decadent setting. Overhead, about a dozen women, disparate in age and appearance but all exquisitely beautiful, hung naked, suspended at intervals from cables attached to the ceiling. Each woman was entrammeled — differently — in rope bonds in such a fashion as to expose her sexually to optimum view from below, while at the same time causing her deep shame and discomfort. Each had the sexually martyred expression on her face that Kat had observed many times at Chateau Levequ when, for the amusement of Madam SIN and her guests, some woman or another had been juxtaposed between agony and ecstasy. Some of the women now floating overhead wore nipple or labia 441

Judith Devere

clamps, from which hung weights, tugging at the sensitive flesh of their victims and adding to their sweet chagrin. The ordeal of these women — the “angels” as Kat heard one guest refer to them — generated a constant murmur of soft, plaintive cries and moans, infusing a sort of subtext into the music of the eighteen piece orchestra playing in the minstrel’s gallery that overlooked one end of the Great Hall. Vivaldi, Madam SIN’s favorite composer, was the perfect complement to the predominantly Venetian masquerade costumery of the guests, some of whom were dancing beneath the gallery. Kat led Camille by her chain through the throng of revelers, marveling at the various living tableaux that had been provided for the further diversion of the guests. A series of semicircular alcoves punctuated the paneled walls at intervals, and instead of the original stone or alabaster statues that had once graced them, these were now occupied by human figures engaged in a catalogue of sexual activities. In most cases, naked or provocatively partially naked women were being ravished in various positions by well endowed male partners. In other instances, they were performing oral sex, one upon the other, or simultaneously upon each other. Kat supposed that, since these “performers” were presumably expected to continue without abate until the ball finished, they must have been fortified with one or more of Ming’s cunning concoctions. As they passed among the other guests, Kat thought she recognized some of them, despite the supposed anonymity conferred by the masks. There was no mistaking, for example, the slender, dark chocolate-fleshed form of Frederique, who was wearing a figure hugging dress in white satin and a matching mask frothing with lace. The neckline of her dress fell away from the right shoulder to expose fully the opposite breast, which was — as Kat remembered with a delicious thrill — so firm that it barely moved as the ravishing Thai beauty walked toward her, 442

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

her arm linked to that of her male companion. He was a big man dressed in total contrast to Frederique in dark flowing robes, a capacious cloak and a half-mask that incorporated a tricorn hat. Vladimir, perhaps? — the build was right but Kat couldn’t be certain with the upper part of his face obscured by the grotesque black devil mask he wore. They passed by Kat without speaking, but as they did so, Frederique trailed her fingertips across Kat’s bared breasts, lightly scratching the nipples with immaculately manicured nails. Kat shivered in response, her smile more like a grimace of arousal. As Kat led Camille around the hall and the adjacent antechambers it became apparent that the guests were completely uninhibited in their conduct; some, perhaps, in the knowledge or at least the fond hope that they could not be recognized. There was much touching, and even kissing and licking of breasts by both men and women. And Kat soon discovered that the codpieces of the male servants were detachable, since several female guests had helped themselves to the contents, examining and fondling the erect organs with interest. In one of the antechambers, Lady Frances, on her knees, had one male servant against the wall, his codpiece fully open and his rigid penis deep in her throat. As she worked her head back and forth, her right hand strummed furiously at her sex beneath her gown. In another antechamber three young men were talking and drinking wine together in a group. They were dressed in diagonally striped tights and padded jackets, identical in style but differently colored in rich gold, crimson, azure blue and black. They had apparently been carousing for some time and were slightly drunk, their conversation and laughter bordering upon boisterous. It was only when Kat drew level with them that she realized, despite his mask, that the central figure of the three was the English prince. In his early thirties, the prince was not exactly 443

Judith Devere

handsome and yet Kat found him attractive in some indefinable way. There was something undeniably aristocratic about the cut of his profile, and the promise of laughter was always in his eyes, and seemed to be tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ah, My Lady,” he said to Kat as he stepped in front of her. “Here’s a conundrum.” He turned, winked at his companions. Kat played along. Curtseying, she said, “Conundrum, Sire?” “Aye, a conundrum. You see, my friends and I are feeling — how shall I say this — the heat of…passion — and who’s to blame us? We’re young and virile; the chateau is replete with beautiful women and Lord knows what CHIANG Ming has laced the wine with.” “Then what is the problem, Sire.” The prince’s smile broadened. “We three are, as I said, friends. Good friends. And as good friends, we like to share our pleasures. The difficulty — until now, that is — has been finding a woman who appeals equally to us all.” “And now?” “And now, suddenly, we find two. You and your…slave?” “Not exactly slave, but to all intents and purposes, I suppose, yes.” “In any event…” the prince went on, reaching out to stroke Kat’s breasts in turn as he spoke “…the dusky woman is in your gift?” Kat inclined her head. “She is, Sire.” He turned to his friends again. “So, lads, what’s it to be?” All three men looked Kat and Camille up and down. “May I make a suggestion, Sire?” Kat asked. “Please do. We are very open to suggestions, are we not, lads?” “Aye, Sir, that we are,” said one of his companions, laughing, while the other nodded vigorously. “Well, it’s early yet and I’d like to move around a bit; see 444

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

everything and everyone there is to see. Later, I’d be more than happy to join you for your…shared pleasure. In the meantime, please feel to make full use of my…” Kat turned to look at Camille “…slave.” A small frown of demurral momentarily creased Camille’s brow, then was gone when Kat glared at her. All three men looked at Camille as if they would devour her. “What do we say to that offer, lads?” “She certainly is a dusky beauty,” one of the young men said. “I’ll go for it.” “Me, too,” the other agreed. The prince turned back to Kat, smiling expansively. “It’s settled then. Leave the slave with us; we’ll take good…care of her. And later, her Mistress too.” “As you…desire, Sire,” Kat replied, playing the scene to its conclusion. “And if she displeases you…displeases you in any way…please tell me and you shall see how a strict Mistress punishes her slave.” With another curtsey, Kat turned to leave the antechamber. “Later, Kat,” the prince called after her. “Later.” That the prince had recognized her, as she had him, did not surprise Kat; she had more than once shared his bed with both him and his bride, who, although of royal blood herself, was a delightful little slut. That the wine had, indeed, been liberally laced — and, unusually, provided thus to guests — became increasingly apparent as Kat explored and observed the activities in the Great Hall and its antechambers, of which there were six. Intimate contact, sexual foreplay, could be seen everywhere, including at the banquet table and on the dance floor, but it was in the antechambers, where the lighting was slightly subdued, that propriety and morality ceased to exist entirely. There, guests were celebrating orgiastic sex in bewildering variety, in many 445

Judith Devere

instances making full use of servants who were not currently committed to the actual business of serving in the conventional manner. Couples; women with both men and other women; groups like the prince and his friends, were giving full rein to their lust in whatever manifestation of sexuality was their preference. Although she thought she had seen everything since coming to reside at Chateau Levequ, Kat even witnessed a few deviant sexual practices for the first time in her life. What seemed strange, incongruous, though, was that, although at any given time in each of the antechambers men and women were writhing and squirming and moaning and crying out in the throes of carnal passion, the remaining guests were behaving very little differently than they might at a charity ball. As the lurid, decadent images of naked writhing flesh seared Kat’s consciousness, so the doctored wine assumed greater dominion over her senses, making her mind reel and her entire being ache with desire. Her inner thighs were wet and slippery now, moistened by the insistent flow from the spring of her sex. She seemed to be moving through the various antechambers in a dream-like time continuum. There was Camille, spread asunder on a red velvet chaise longue at the mercy of three pounding, erect cocks. Oh sweet Jesus, Camille, the prince plunging repeated into the depths of her anus while his companions furiously followed suit in the honey pot of her sex and those lovely brown-sugar lips. Only just managing to resist the compulsion to continue watching the lecherous rutting quartet — quartet because the expression on Camille’s face betrayed the reality of her own lascivious arousal — Kat moved out into the Great Hall again, where a familiar figure caught her eye. Dressed in the black habit of a monk, with a white full face mask representing a skull that seemed to peer mysteriously from the dark depths of the hood, he was, in theory, unrecognizable. Yet Kat recognized him immediately. It was not just his build, 446

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

although even covered by the cloak it was apparent that he was a big man. It was more the way he moved; the masculine grace of his stride and the proud set of his head. She gave herself no time for second a thought, since that would inevitably lead to the ebbing of her courage. Instead, she walked over to him at once. Touching him on the arm, she said, “You are the last person I would have expected to see here tonight.” “You know who I am?” He sounded surprised. Kat smiled. “If I had needed any confirmation, it’s in the sound of your voice, but, yes, I knew already.” “Quite an orgy, isn’t it?” “It certainly is. Just what are you doing here?” He made no attempt to disguise the irony in his tone as he answered, “I’m sort of on stand-by.” “Stand-by?” He nodded. “In case someone…needs me. Not very likely, I know, but I did see Lady Frances earlier.” “Someone does need you.” “Oh?” He looked around, as if that someone might be watching. “Who would that be?” “Me.” “You?” He sounded incredulous. “But I thought… I mean, last time…” “Shh. Come with me, now.” Taking him by the arm she steered him toward the nearest antechamber, where, among other fornicators in the room, Lady Frances, now on all fours, was not only still fellating the servant, but was also being robustly ravished from behind by another man. Naked but for a grotesquely long nosed mask, her ravisher was a muscular young man with a slender but very long penis with a pronounced upward curve, from which, judging by the animal noises deep in Lady Frances’s throat, she was deriving considerable pleasure. 447

Judith Devere

“Come,” Kat said, urging her own companion on toward an alcove in the rear wall of the antechamber. “I want your cock.” Like the ones in the Great Hall, the half domed alcove was semicircular in shape, but in this case a built-in lounge seat took up the entire space within. Upholstered in crimson velvet, the seat was expansive enough to accommodate three or four people, either with their backs to the wall and legs stretched out before them, or lying full length on its surface. When they reached it, Kat guided him onto the seat, she kneeling beside him as he sat. “Mistress…” he began. “Kat. Call me Kat for now.” “Kat…are you sure about this?” In reply, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him down onto his back on the seat. Reaching for the hem of his habit, she began to slide the coarse material up his legs. As she uncovered his lower thighs, the object of her quest came partly into view, not quite fully in repose, yet still only hinting at its incredible potential. She pushed the habit higher until his loins were fully exposed. Then, her eyes glazing over as if she were mesmerized by the prospect of something entirely beyond her comprehension, she reached out tentatively toward Jacob’s enormous cock. As her fingertips touched the black satin flesh, the organ flinched…and instantly increased in girth and length. Kat started at the response, withdrawing her hand quickly as if the tumescent penis had the power to bite and inject deadly venom like the serpent it seemed to emulate. Then, realizing how absurd her reaction was, she reached out again, this time curling her fingers around the stiffening shaft. From behind the hooded skull came a low groan, like that of ship’s creaking timbers, as she began to slowly pump the now almost rigid cock to its astonishing fully erect dimensions. An image of the Black Bishop flickered on the backdrop of her imagination, but magnificent 448

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

though Calvin’s manhood undoubtedly was, it was incomparable with this beautiful, if terrible, leviathan, which had grown so big now that her hand could no longer encircle the shaft. The great round head pulsed, seeming to regard her, rapaciously, with its single eye. Reaching behind her, she dexterously unlaced her bodice, then wriggled free of her costume. “Kat,” Jacob rasped from behind his mask. “Think about what you’re doing. Remember what it was like last time.” “I do remember, Jacob. It was terrible…and wonderful. But last time I had no choice; I had to let you fuck me. This time, I want it.” She tried to straddle him on her knees, but quickly discovered that his monstrous organ was simply too long admit him to her loins in that position, projecting, as it did, as high as her lower belly. And so she rose again and, placing her feet flat on the seat on either side of his waist, and her right palm on his chest for support, she began to slowly lower herself in a squatting posture. She stopped when the head of his cock nuzzled hugely against her sex. She reached between her parted thighs, sliding her fingers between the slippery labia and over her clitoris. Her fingers slick with the natural lubrication of her arousal, she liberally anointed the head and upper half of the mighty cock. Then, squirming slightly, she lowered her body a little more. The cockhead pressed insistently against the hollow of her sex in response to her bodyweight. She gasped in a lungful of air, eased her calf and thigh muscles, and suddenly… “Aaaahh.” Kat threw back her head as Jacob’s cock at last breached the portal of her vulva. He groaned as her vaginal muscles closed on the head of his cock, and the first few inches of the shaft penetrated her. Panting now, she moved up and down on him marginally, allowing herself to take a little more of him with each downward movement. As she slowly, incrementally, impaled herself on the 449

Judith Devere

gigantic penis, her old fear began to flare in her mind: was it possible that its immense girth might cleave her asunder? Irrational, she told herself, and Camille’s reassurance came back to her once again: women have babies, don’t they? Of course she could take him; she had done so once before, but…. “Oooohh.” The stretching of her flesh, the fullness down there, were beginning to feel different as a warm, tingling glow began to emanate from the area around her clitoris. It was a glorious feeling, and yet… Kat looked down at the great black column of flesh wedged between her open thighs. It was about halfway buried inside her now, but she suddenly felt she could take no more. But bust then, a hand touched her on the shoulder; cool, smooth fingertips, alabaster-like, caressing her flesh. She turned to look and saw a crimson-lipped woman looking at her from beneath a red and black devil half-mask. She wore a crimson cloak that covered her entire body. As she looked at Kat, the woman reached for the metal clasp at her throat and unhooked it, allowing the garment to slough from her body onto the floor. Now that she was naked, Kat recognized the she-devil; she would have known that slender, girlish body anywhere, not to mention the glossy, straight black hair that framed her face so squarely. Ming clambered onto the seat, bent toward Jacob and removed his mask. “I’m going to sit on your face, blacksmith,” she told him, coolly. “You know what to do, I think?” Jacob nodded, his face contorting as Kat resumed her tentative downward gyrations on his cock. Still looking at Jacob, Ming added, “Unless and until I tell you otherwise, do not come. Do you understand, blacksmith?” Again, Jacob nodded. “Ye… Yes…Ma’am.” “I hope so for your sake, because if you fail me I will give you a flogging you’ll never forget.” So saying, Ming swung one leg across Jacobs upper body to 450

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

kneel over him facing Kat, then lowered her haunches until her sex came into contact with his mouth. She shivered lightly as her labia pressed against his lips and his tongue found her clitoris. She reached out to cup Kat’s chin with her hand, then leaned forward to kiss her firmly on the mouth. In response, Kat slid a little further down onto Jacob’s cock. After a long, tongue delving kiss that left Kat gasping for breath, Ming drew back to hold Kat’s gaze with her own, her normally porcelain pale cheeks slightly flushed. With her right hand she reached out to Kat, caressing each of her breasts in turn, then alternately fondling and pinching and twisting her nipples. The contrast between pain and pleasure fanned the fire in Kat’s loins, lubricating her even more. This, in turn, allowed her body to impale itself deeper on Jacobs throbbing manhood. But, as if this were not enough progress, Ming placed her left hand behind Kat’s neck, exerting downward pressure on her spine and forcing her even further onto his cock. Writhing, squirming and wriggling her hips, Kat concentrated her entire mind and body on opening to him. Slowly, inexorably, he entered her, filled her to capacity. For a moment, she remained motionless, her pubis pressing hard under her bodyweight against his. It was he who moved first, gently thrusting his hips upward and lifting her bodily on his distended cock. Ming took Kat’s nipples between her fingers and thumbs, pulling upwards. Kat pushed away from Jacob, sliding up his shaft, then descended again in response to Ming’s downward tugging on her nipples. Gradually, the three began to ease into a kind of coordinated rhythm, Ming to a large extent controlling Kat’s vertical movements by pulling on her nipples as she might on the reins of a horse; and Jacob raising and lowering his hips in opposition to Kat’s upward and downward undulations. Whatever discomfort Kat might have experienced at the beginning now melted away on a wave of sheer ecstatic pleasure, the glow spreading from the 451

Judith Devere

twin epicenters of her clitoris and her womb through every fiber of her body. She was vaguely aware that all three of them were perspiring, the flickering torchlight casting their writhing bodies into a surreality of color and light and shadow. Ming grunted rhythmically, her voice gruff in her throat as Jacob pleasured her with his tongue while driving Kat resolutely toward the point of no return with his cock. Suddenly, almost unexpectedly, Kat was at that point. It was as if the ocean bed had shifted, the resultant orgasm crashing through her senses like an unstoppable tsunami of unmitigated rapture. Tossing back her head, she screamed her deliverance into the confines of the antechamber. How long the spasms of pleasure and fulfillment lasted, Kat had no idea, and she was only vaguely conscious that, as she finally began to resume some degree of control over her senses, Ming was holding her upper arms, urging her up and forward. Recognizing her intent, Kat eased herself gingerly upward, while Jacob’s still stoically rigid cock sought to prevent her premature escape by trying to suck her back again. When she eventually broke free of its deliciously hold, it was with a profound sense of loss — a sentiment which, judging by his long, heavy sigh, Jacob shared. But he had no cause for complaint for, moments later, at Ming’s orchestration, it was Kat who sat astride his face and Ming, herself, who squatted over his loins, her sex aligned with the questing, pulsing head of his ravening cockhead. Ming’s eyes were wide and bright with some desperate inner fire, and what happened next surprised Kat, to say the least. Ming gripped Jacob’s cock midway down the shaft and lowered herself onto the head. Kat expected that, as she herself had had to do, Ming would squirm and contort her body in such a way as to minimize the discomfort and anguish she risked on his entry into her body. But no; she poised for a moment only, then thrust slowly but continuously down on him, taking his entire vast bulk in one fluid descent. As she did so, Jacob gave vent to a second 452

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

long sigh, this one of undisguised pleasure, while Ming took a huge inward breath. Kat flinched, then moaned as Jacob simultaneously penetrated her with his tongue and thrust Ming upward with his hips. What followed was very different from Kat’s brief and cautious, albeit ecstatic, coupling with Jacob. Ming seemed blissfully uninhibited by the enormity of Jacob’s cock; indeed, despite her slender build and the snugly compact sheath of her vulva — as Kat recalled it — she seemed to have little difficulty in accommodating it entirely. Her eyes gleaming like onyx, her mouth contorted in a grimace of lustful indulgence, Ming moved with Jacob in what seemed like practiced collaboration, in a sort of animal harmony that Kat found fascinating and very arousing to watch. Though his bucking and thrusting became increasingly frenetic and violent, Ming rode him as if he were a spirited horse. And it was she who was in control, there could be no doubt about that. Here were two people made for each other in sex, and the fucking was the most aggressive Kat had ever either been part of or witnessed. But with such irrepressible fervor, it could not, and did not last for long. Within a few short minutes, Ming’s rapid, rhythmic panting and the sudden strained tautness of her body signified her readiness. “Now, blacksmith,” she commanded through clenched teeth. “Come, for me.” Incredibly, the bucking of Jacob’s hips against Ming’s buttocks increased in pace, the wet slapping of flesh on flesh resounding now in the antechamber. And yet somehow, despite his obvious proximity to the onset of orgasm, Jacob managed to continue his delicious devotions to Kat’s clitoris with a flicking tongue. Ming groaned deeply; Jacob released an explosion of breath; and Kat sobbed, as all three performers in the tableau of unbridled lust began to climax within seconds of each other. It was as if their combined release had been coordinated by some unseen divine presence. But if that release had been swift in its 453

Judith Devere

arrival, for Kat it was a prolonged, seemingly timeless interval in which the world around her ceased to exist, shut out by the eclipse of her senses. But carnal bliss is transitory, and when the last rapturous ripples settled and died, the trio slumped, one by one, onto the seat; exhausted, spent, drained. Within moments, Kat was deep in slumber.

454

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Chapter Twenty-one

T

he morning on which Kat’s fate would be decided came to life in a splendid blaze of sunlight erupting from the horizon, beginning with a blood-orange glow that turned to gold as the sun seemed to rise out of the Caribbean itself. Unable to sleep, she had risen before dawn and walked to a point in the grounds at the front of the chateau that overlooked the harbor below and offered a panoramic vista of the ocean to the eastern horizon. There, sitting on a grassy knoll, she had watched the sun rise. It was as glorious a morning as she had ever seen, and yet she was consumed by a shadow of foreboding. Although it had not occurred to her until sometime in the middle of the night, she now understood that there had been a dual purpose in Ming’s participation in her ecstatic encounter with Jacob at the masked ball the previous evening. While Kat didn’t doubt that Ming had derived as much sexual pleasure and gratification as she and Jacob had done from that encounter, she now realized that Ming had also been passing her an artful subliminal message. Although she had never thought about it consciously, Kat had always assumed that Ming was a lesbian. Certainly, she had never witnessed her sexual involvement with any man, and that fact had led to one aspect of the strategy she had conceived for her imminent challenge to subjugate Ming. The path to that goal, Kat knew, could only be through 455

Judith Devere

humiliation and pain, but she was also acutely conscious that Ming was unusually resilient, both physically and emotionally. And while Kat would be permitted to inflict pain on Ming during her final test, the extent of that pain was to be limited by Madam SIN’s condition that Ming must not de subjected to serious injury or permanent marking. With such constraints in place, Kat doubted that she could break Ming by pain alone, and had therefore planned to additionally subject her to sexual abuse and degradation at the hands of one or more men. This, she knew would be anathema to a lesbian, and might just be more than the imperious Chinese dominatrix could withstand. It was a faint hope, of course, and one in which Kat had never been fully confident, but it had offered a glimmer of hope, and now that was gone. By her conduct the previous evening, Ming had demonstrated with sublime eloquence not only that her sexuality extended to men as well as women, but that she was both able and inclined to accommodate even the exquisitely abnormal endowment of the Chateau Levequ blacksmith. In the wake of that discovery, Kat now abandoned the prospect of male involvement in Ming’s coming ordeal. But what was she to do? She looked at her watch; there remained less than four hours to consider that question and come up with an answer. **** At eleven o’clock precisely Kat tugged on the bell sash at the door to Madam SIN’s suite. A black male servant opened the door almost immediately. Kat stepped inside the room, and registered at once mild surprise on the faces of those who were to judge her and decide her fate. Unlike the occasion of Kat’s last test before these people, Madam SIN was not behind her desk but sitting in front of it in a 456

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

semicircle of chairs with Vladimir Romanoff and Frederique on her right and Armand Levequ on her left. When Armand had arrived and whether or not he had been at the ball the previous evening, Kat had no idea. The present seating arrangement was at Kat’s behest and positioned the observers around her equipment, which she had set up earlier that morning. From their seats they would have a clear view of the proceedings at close quarters. The reason for their surprise, Kat surmised, was her atypical appearance. In the knowledge that the way she looked could either enhance or diminish her prospects in the test, she had dressed for the occasion with considerable forethought. She wore only black patent leather thigh boots with five inch heels, and a tightly laced matching basque that left her breasts, sex and buttocks uncovered. Uncharacteristically, her hair was up, held in place with a silver pin, so as to emphasize her slender neck and accentuate the prominence of her breasts. Equally uncharacteristically, her lips glistened under a layer of deep crimson lipstick. “Well, I must say you look the part, Kat,” Madam SIN observed. “She looks…enchanting,” Frederique said. Vladimir shifted slightly in his chair. “I’ve never been submissive, but looking at Kat now, I almost wish I were.” Armand smiled at this. “Where is Ming?” he asked Kat. “By now,” Kat answered, “she should be standing outside the door in the corridor, waiting for my instruction to enter.” “Shall we see?” “Ming,” Kat called, raising her voice. “You may enter now.” Following a single knock, the door to Madam SIN’s suite opened and Ming stepped into the room. On Kat’s instructions, as delivered in a note by Ingrid, the normally haughty and fashionable Chinese beauty wore what had accompanied the note in a small package. Kat smiled when she saw the other woman, 457

Judith Devere

confident in the knowledge she had at least got off to a reasonable start. Ming, she knew, would never have willingly allowed herself to be seen the way she looked now. She had superb sartorial taste, and ordinarily dressed in style to complement her authoritarian character and glacial demeanor. She saw herself, perhaps justifiably, as a demanding and heartless goddess, to be worshipped, feared and served. Now, though, dressed in the most sluttish of lingerie, she looked like nothing so much as a cheap whore, and Kat was delighted to see her represented so. Indeed, remembering how Ming had forced her to dress on the day she had sent her to the village ‘to buy fruit’, Kat had taken great delight in selecting equally demeaning attire for Ming to wear on this critical occasion. The bra and panty set were made of black and pink lace; the former with open cups that exposed and framed the small mounds of Ming’s girlish breasts and pale pink nipples; the latter brazenly crotchless. A matching garter belt held sheer black stockings in place, while a pair of pink patent leather ankle boots with six-inch heels provided the final touch. In short, it was the kind of outfit that only sex shops sold. Although Ming was not permitted to be overtly disrespectful to Kat during this final test, she was clearly thoroughly humiliated at being attired thus, and came as close to glowering as she dared at the prospect of the near smiles that played at the lips of both Frederique and Vladimir. First blood to Kat, then! Madam SIN said, “Kat; come and stand before us. You too, Ming. I want to be sure you both fully understand the rules of this…engagement.” Kat stepped forward to stand in front of Madam SIN. As Ming crossed the room to join her, she glanced with what seemed like amused interest at the paraphernalia Kat had set up for the coming session. The centerpiece was a stainless steel recliner that appeared to have been inspired by the concept of the 458

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

gynecologist’s chair, and as such was clearly intended for use with a woman. Lined with padded leather, it was designed to support her torso in an almost horizontal posture, while at the same positioning her legs so that they were raised slightly higher than her body on two individual leg rests. The configuration of the leg rests, or stirrups, which extended from the recliner in the form of a letter V, would ensure that her lower limbs were bent at the knee and splayed wide apart. The recliner differed from a gynecologist’s chair in that it was fitted with leather shackles with metal buckles attached so that the woman’s ankles and wrists could be restrained. Once buckled into the device, she would be helpless and totally vulnerable to anyone who cared to take advantage of the unrestricted access afforded to her genitals and buttocks. Extending vertically from the head of the recliner were two L shaped struts, along each of which a series of small pulley wheels allowed a slender cable to move freely back and forth. Steel nipple clamps were attached to the ends of the cables, which hung toward the upper part of the recliner. On the floor, between the leg rests of the recliner, lay something long and bulky covered by a black silk cloth, while on a nearby occasional table, a similar cloth covered a number of invisible and unidentifiable articles. Beside the table was a low wooden stool. Ming, seemingly unruffled by the sinister looking collection of paraphernalia, took her place next to Kat, facing madam SIN and the others. “A final reminder, then. Kat, you have thirty minutes in which to bend Ming to your will; to…persuade her to acknowledge you as Mistress by addressing you by that title. If, during that time, Ming so addresses you, you will become my successor here at Chateau Levequ. If you fail then, sadly, you must leave this island, never to return. “You may subject Ming to whatever treatment you choose in 459

Judith Devere

pursuit of your objective, provided that you do her no serious injury — I think you understand the parameters of that constraint in the light of your own experiences here at the chateau — and that you leave no lasting marks of any punishment you might inflict. “For your part, Ming, you will obey Kat and treat her with respect throughout. If she questions you, you will answer truthfully. If you once address her as ‘Mistress’, that will signify that you are prepared to accept her in my place, acknowledging her absolute authority over you here on L’Île des Désirs — and anywhere else for that matter, as long as you remain in Armand’s service. “Do you both understand?” “Yes, Christina,” Kat answered. “Perfectly,” responded Ming. “Then let us begin. Kat…” Kat felt her stomach churn, her pulse quicken. The dreadful moment had arrived. Her future would be determined by the next thirty minutes. If she failed, she would be banished from L’Île des Désirs, effectively an outcast from the life she had come to accept and embrace unconditionally. Life would never be the same again. How could she go on now that her soul had been opened up to the possibilities and opportunities for fulfillment offered by what Madam SIN referred to as The Life? But wasting time by thinking and worrying would not help. It was time for action. She turned to Ming. “Ming, throughout the next thirty minutes, or until your ordeal concludes, if sooner, you will signify your respect by avoiding eye contact with me. Do you understand?” Averting her eyes at once from Kat’s, Ming answered, “I do.” “Very well, it is time; destiny calls. Go to the stool by the occasional table, there. Bend over and grip the wooden rungs below the seat on either side. Assume the position with your 460

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

bottom towards us.” Ming walked to the chair, bent from the waist to grip the rungs, her torso inclining forward toward the floor in this position. In response, the crotchless panties stretched apart to reveal the cleft of her buttocks. She looked uncharacteristically fragile and vulnerable now, her pale translucent flesh taut over her slender, pubescent looking frame. Kat walked toward her, only now conscious of the sunlight streaming in through the open French windows, as it had been when she had faced her previous test in this room. Similarly, as she walked across the thickly carpeted floor a capricious warm breeze caressed her body, making her nipples stiffen in response, as it had done then. She stopped a couple of paces behind Ming, suddenly aware of her growing arousal. Now, in this moment, she realized that despite its implications for her if she failed, she nevertheless relished the thought of the task now facing her: the savored opportunity to exchange roles with Ming. For once, it was Ming who was at her mercy, and irrespective of the outcome of this, her final test, Kat intended to take full advantage of that fact. “Set your feet further apart on the floor, Ming. I want your thighs spread wide.” Obediently, Ming complied, presenting to the observers as she did so a totally unobstructed view of her smoothly shaven vulva, framed now between her parted buttocks and upper thighs. Kat moved to the occasional table, lifted and set aside the black silk cloth that covered it. “Like a preview, dear?” she asked Ming, her tone seasoned with sly malice. “Look what I have for you today.” Ming turned her head to look at the eclectic assortment of articles set out on the tabletop. They included an assortment of clips and clamps — two with metal weights attached — a long, thick stem of shaved and trimmed root ginger, two leather straps with buckles, a ball gag, a slender cane with a curved handle, a 461

Judith Devere

many tailed leather flogger and its infinitely more torturous cousin, the pearl cat. With the exception of this latter, these articles seemed to evoke only mild concern and maybe a stirring of professional interest in Ming. But it seemed to Kat — although she couldn’t be certain — that when Ming’s gaze alighted on the pearl cat, a shadow of doubt, perhaps even apprehension, momentarily darkened the depths of her eyes. Having herself become intimately acquainted with the fiendishly conceived instrument of torment during her time at Chateau Levequ, Kat was not overly surprised by Ming’s reaction, but she made a mental note of it anyway. “I find myself in a novel situation here, Ming,” Kat said, stepping closer to her subject. “I think some initial evaluation is called for before we proceed.” So saying, Kat reached underneath Ming’s upper body, first gently caressing and kneading each of her breasts in turn, then squeezing and pinching the nipples hard. Ming inhaled sharply as Kat’s finger and thumb crushed the puckered pink flesh of the latter with pincer-like pressure. “Mmm, tender and surprisingly responsive. Good.” Ming sighed lightly as Kat released her breasts and moved around behind her. Drawing the split in the crotchless panties even wider, she slid her hand between Ming’s upper thighs, her fingers sliding easily into the slippery moist folds of the other woman’s sex. Ming shivered at the touch of the questing fingertips on her hard hot clitoris. Kat smiled, turned to her audience. “For the removal of any doubt, you may all wish to note that Madam SIN’s…Dark Angel…is very aroused; dripping, in fact, like the shameless whore she is.” Kat paused to riffle her fingers back and forth along Ming’s softly yielding cleft, Ming trying — not totally effectively — to stifle a moan of pleasure. “How the mighty have fallen: Ming the Mistress now at the mercy of her 462

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

former subject. Don’t you find that ironic, Ming…and humiliating?” “Ironic…and humiliating. Yes. But I have no say in the matter. As you are…were…subject to my will, so I am to Christina’s and Armand’s. And, for the moment, yours. All those in the service of Armand Levequ must endure whatever is required of them. What you do to me, whatever you oblige me to suffer, is of no importance. My anguish counts for nothing. All that matters is that I obey my instructions unreservedly. So do your worst — or best.” Removing her hand from Ming’s sex, Kat replied, “Thank you, Ming. I intend to do just that.” Then, moving back to the occasional table, she picked up the cane and the stem of ginger. Ming trained her eyes resolutely on the floor as Kat stood behind her again. “Will this be your first figging, Ming?” Ming nodded. “Answer me, slut!” “Yes, Kat. If that is what you intend to do to me.” “Oh, it certainly is. Remember the effect the ginger had on Camille? I think you will find this an interesting experience.” As she spoke, Kat place the tip of the moist ginger stem between Ming’s labia and began to slide it inside her sex. Ming gasped as the fibrous root delivered its powerful, spicy payload to the sensitive membrane of her vulva. Some six or seven inches long, the irregularly shaped root slipped deeper into Ming’s body, causing her to writhe and moan in response to the burgeoning tingling heat at the core of her sex. When the root was nearly totally buried in Ming’s vulva, Kat slowly began to withdraw it again, the reverse journey clearly discomfiting Ming at least as much as its penetration had. As the tip at last emerged from the perversely sucking grasp of Ming’s sex lips, Kat drew it up ward between her buttocks to present it to the umber star of 463

Judith Devere

her anus. At this, Ming clenched the rungs of the chair more tightly, the muscles in her limbs and belly tensing as she braced herself. Lubricated by her own traitorous juices, the ginger root slithered easily between her sphincter muscles in response to only gentle pressure from Kat. Kat watched with rapt fascination as she slowly, very slowly, impaled the other woman; imagined the mild stinging, the burning, tingling glow emanating from the tuber deep inside her. It was not hard for Kat to imagine this, as she had previously subjected herself to a figging at Camille’s hands, in order the better to appreciate Ming’s plight when her turn came. “Is there a problem, Ming?” Kat asked, innocently. Ming shook her head vigorously, a gesture that seemed to Kat just a little too emphatic to be true. “You can lie without speaking, you know, Ming. Remember your obligation to tell me the truth. Tell me how it feels to have this ginger root deep inside your ass. Describe the feeling for us.” As she said this, Kat thrust the last ‘usable’ inch of the root into Ming’s anus, where it would be held in place by the concave flange she had carved out of the stem. “Ooooohhhh.” Ming’s endeavors to suppress the groan proved miserably ineffective. She took a deep breath, her eyes wide, now, bulging. “It’s…hot. And it stings, like nettles, but not so painful. And it… Ooooooohh. It tingles. The feeling is spreading through my bowels, my womb. It’s as if a small fire had been set in my loins.” Kat smiled with satisfaction at Ming’s anguish, but knew that what she was experiencing now would in no way break her spirit, because discomfort was not the only sensation imparted by the ginger. “What else,” she asked. “Pl…pleasure. Arousal.” “Yes,” Kat acknowledged, “but we mustn’t allow the pleasure 464

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

to get the upper hand, must we?” Leaving the ginger root firmly in place, she transferred her hand to the waistband of Ming’s panties in the small of her back. Slowly, she peeled them down until they hung limply just above Ming’s knees, leaving her parted buttocks and the projecting inch of the ginger root completely exposed. Laying the slender cane on top of Ming’s buttocks, Kat moved to the occasional table and picked up a pair of clamps, which she then attached to the other woman’s nipples. “Aaah,” Ming exclaimed, as the crocodile clip jaws of the clamps bit down on her sensitive flesh, then, “Ooooh,” as Kat let the lead weighted chains attached to the clamps drop to swing to and fro beneath her horizontal torso. Kat picked up the cane again, slid it between Ming’s thighs, then drew its length very slowly back again between her labia. Ming moaned again as the ‘knuckles’ in the cane grazed her clitoris one by one. When the cane was free of Ming’ sex, Kat raised it to one side, ready to deliver the first stroke. “Time to adorn that pale Chinese flesh with a little color. I think I shall add a few pretty, but of course temporary, pink stripes to the slut’s lovely round bottom.” Realizing what was about to happen, Ming took a deep breath, her body tensing.

Thwack.

Ming flinched, her brow contorting in a frown of pain. Kat had deliberately not allowed her the benefit of a warm-up — the usual practice of preparing the victim of a caning or spanking with a few moderate strokes first. Instead, she had delivered the first stroke with all the force she dared After a long pause during which, for Ming’s benefit, she swished the cane harmlessly through air several times, she delivered the second stroke.

Thwack.

Then a third…and fourth. 465

Judith Devere

Thwack. Thwack.

As Kat continued laying on the strokes, a series of parallel pink weals materialized across her victim’s buttocks. But apart from the ragged rasping of her breath, Ming remained silent. Setting her jaw firmly, she resolutely imprisoned behind clenched teeth any latent howls of pain that might otherwise have escaped. When Kat stopped the caning after the twentieth stroke, Ming’s shoulders drooped and she allowed herself a long sibilant sigh. But when Kat ran her fingers over the welts on her buttocks, she gasped and tensed again. Kat lingered over the process, finding the texture and the warmth of the temporarily damaged flesh both fascinating and arousing. She would like to have continued caning Ming but feared that that might result in a degree of injury that would render her test a failure. “Get up now, Ming.” Ming released the rungs of the chair and rose, the weighted clamps tugging downward at her reddened nipples, her panties still draped around her knees. Kat stepped up to her, Ming avoiding her gaze. “Did I hurt you, Ming?” “You know you did. There was no warm-up.” “No. But I did not hurt you enough to achieve my objective, I suppose.” The suggestion of a scornful smile flickered across Ming’s mouth, then was gone. “No, Kat. I could have taken more; much more.” Although Ming’s reaction unnerved Kat, she didn’t let it show. “Of course you could, dear. And so you shall. But I don’t want to bore our observers, so I plan a little variety. How does the ginger feel now, by the way?” “It’s…distressing. It feels as if my insides are on fire.” “But the feeling is ambivalent.” 466

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Ming nodded. “Yes.” “Why?” “Because there is…” Ming momentarily half closed her eyes “…a deeply arousing glow as well.” “And these?” “Ouch!” Ming exclaimed, her shoulders rounding defensively as Kat delivered a sharp blow to her breasts with the cane, setting the weighted clamps jiggling. She hadn’t seen the blow coming and the sudden pain took her unawares. Now it was Kat’s turn to smile, albeit inwardly. “Your nipples.” Kat thought she detected a glimmer of suppressed hostility in Ming’s eyes as she answered, “They hurt.” “What, no pleasure?” Ming shook her head. “Just pain.” Reaching out to Ming’s breasts, Kat said, “Well, these can come off now.” As she removed the clamps, she added, “I have something else planned for these lovely nipples.” Ming winced, bit her lower lip as Kat rolled and twisted each nipple in turn between her finger and thumb. “But look how they’ve deepened in color from the clamping — from pale pink to rose red. The color suits you, Ming. But come now, we don’t have much time and there is much to be done. You can dispense with the underwear and stockings now; they have served their purpose. Take off everything except your shoes; I want you naked from now on.” When Ming had removed what scant clothing she had been allowed thus far, Kat gestured to the recliner. “Go and take your place on the chair.” As Ming obeyed, Kat noted with satisfaction how, as she had expected, ordaining that she keep on her footwear not only accentuated her nudity but also reinforced her degradation. Ming, she knew, would never have any compunction to appear 467

Judith Devere

nude before her peers and Madam SIN, but although justifiably proud of her body, being forced to wear the sluttish pink patent leather high heeled shoes while naked would be deeply humiliating for her. “Come, Ming,” Kat said in response to the other woman’s apparent indecision as she sat on the recliner. “Surely you know what to do; legs up in the stirrups, please.” Ming leaned back into the recliner, raised her legs and placed them in the stirrups. In this position, with her legs bent at the knee and her thighs splayed wide, her sex and anus were fully on display as if she were a piece of merchandise on offer for sale, which was exactly Kat’s intent. Ming might be tough in some respects, but Kat knew she would find this treatment degrading in the extreme. Indeed, although her pride forbade her giving voice to the fact, Ming’s eyes betrayed her chagrin at the manner in which Kat was treating her. Kat approached her now, stood by her right hip looking down at her. “I know that you are a strong-willed, self-disciplined individual, Ming, but the treatment to which I am about to subject you might just prove too much for you, and we don’t want you letting the side down by interfering with the process, do we?” When Ming failed to respond to this apparently rhetorical question, Kat gave her a deliciously satisfying dose of her own favorite medicine. The flurry of sudden, violent slaps across Ming’s breasts evoked a yelp of shock and pain from Ming. “Do we?” Ming shook her head. “N…no….Kat.” “No. Exactly. And so I will restrain you to prevent you from letting yourself…and the side down.” One by one Kat secured Ming’s wrists and ankles in the leather shackles. Then she picked up the ball gag from the table. “And I’d rather not have you screaming; as you yourself 468

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

taught me, being unable voice one’s anguish actually tends to intensify it. So…open wide.” As she regarded the gag — a hard rubber ball attached to a leather strap with a buckle fastener — Ming’s eyes flashed with something like venom. But it was a fleeting phenomenon; Ming was not nearly so stupid as to antagonize Madam SIN by flouting her instructions to show Kat respect. Knowing that Ming loathed the idea of being subjected to the ball gag gave Kat a little frisson of pleasure as she fitted the rubber ball into the other woman’s wide open mouth, then secured the strap in place by fastening the buckle at the back of her neck. “Ah, Ming,” Kat said, tauntingly, “I don’t believe I have ever seen you look more appealing than you do right now.” Reaching for the nipple clamps that hung toward Ming’s breasts from the overhead struts, Kat pulled them down and attached them to her nipples, tightening the screws until Ming frowned her pain. This done, she moved between Ming’s widespread thighs and placed her hand between the helpless woman’s buttocks. Taking hold of the protruding end of the gingerroot, she wiggled it around. “Good; still firmly in place. Is the ginger still working its magic, Ming?” Ming’s body language in response to Kat’s manipulation of the root in her rectum rendered the question rhetorical. Her eyes widened and her body tensed as she strained against her bonds, vigorously nodding her answer. “Yes, it was a nice fresh piece from the garden and should last the better part of an hour. Now, let’s open you up, shall we?” From the occasional table Kat took the two leather straps and four long metal clips that were rather like clothespins in appearance. When she had buckled the straps around Ming’s upper thighs, Kat took hold of her labia, peeling them back in turn and clamping two of the clips to each. Then, pulling the 469

Judith Devere

clips so that they opened Ming’s sex like a blossoming flower, she attached the free ends to the leather straps by a series of tiny hooks so that the clips lay flat against her thighs. With the lips of her sex spread thus, the rose-colored opening at the heart of Ming’s vulva now lay open, on full view to all present. Now, Kat brought two wires that hung from a console on the right side of the recliner and attached them to the clips. Kat rose and looked at Madam SIN and the others. “This chair and its equipment were made to my own specifications with the help of Armand’s designers and artisans,” she said, with undisguised pride. “I think you will find it interesting.” She turned to look down at Ming. “I know Ming will.” Moving round to the side of the chair, she continued, “You will note that there is a console built into the chair here. It controls a number of features. For example, I can deliver electrical impulses both to the clamps attached to Ming’s nipples and the pins clamped to her labia. The impulses impart both pain and sexual stimulus to the subject — in this case Ming — and I can regulate the degree of both that I wish to administer. I can also adjust the tension on the wires attached to the nipple clamps. Let me demonstrate.” She reached out to the bank of dials and switches on the console, her fingers busy at the controls. A whirring sound came from the chair, accompanied by a pulsating hum. The effect on Ming was instantaneous. Her eyes bulged and a muffled whimper sounded behind the ball gag as the cables attached to her nipple clamps shortened, tugging her nipples upwards. At the same time, Kat delivered a moderate charge through the clamps so that the sensitive tissue of Ming’s nipples was assaulted by pulsing waves of electricity. Ming struggled against her shackles, squirmed as the cables first stretched her nipples taut, then allowed them to relax again, only to repeat the process again and again. 470

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

“You see, the device is very effective on her nipples. Now let us extend its influence to her sex.” Again, Kat adjusted the controls, this time delivering a series of pulsating electric shocks through Ming’s labia to her clitoris and vulva. Ming’s hips bucked in response, and to be sure she must have been experiencing considerable anguish, but the bright rivulet of moisture oozing from the cleft of her sex betrayed the fact that she was also experiencing profound sexual excitement. “And now for the pièce de résistance,” Kat announced, moving toward the silk covered object that lay on the floor between Ming’s parted thighs. Pulling the sheet aside she uncovered a contraption which, from its unequivocal design and dimensions, required little if any explanation. From an electric motor attached to a series of pulleys and belts, a long rod protruded, to the outer end of which was fixed an artificial penis of impressive proportions. Kat said, “To state the obvious, and putting it crudely, this is my…fucking machine. It works just like the real thing — more efficiently, in fact — and again I can control its movement and speed from the console on the chair. The latex cock is a perfectly molded reproduction of the original — a particularly handsome specimen belonging to one of the more well endowed servants.” The machine was mounted on wheels with a braking system to retain it in place once sited in the required position. Her expression still contorting in anguish and arousal, Ming stared in astonishment as Kat now wheeled the machine closer, until the cockhead nuzzled between her pinned apart labia. “Don’t worry, Ming,” Kat said. “The cock is perforated by dozens of tiny holes through which it lubricates itself from inside. Not that lubrication is likely to be a problem with you, slut, since you are positively dripping.” Kat turned on the machine. The rod moved slowly forward. 471

Judith Devere

Ming watched in dismay as the cockhead eased into her sex, followed by the shaft. A long moan sounded behind the ball gag as the entire length of the artificial cock sank inside her, then began to withdraw again. After the first few languorous strokes, Kat adjusted the speed control and the pace increased. Back and forth, back and forth the latex cock slid, in steady rhythmic emulation of the original from which it had been molded. Over the next few minutes, Kat incrementally increased the velocity until it reached what she considered to be the optimum tempo for a man skilled in lovemaking. Ming, in the meantime, appeared to have lost all control of her faculties. Muffled moans and sobs trapped deep in her throat told of the ambivalence of her emotions and physical sensations. She was at once experiencing pain, deep humiliation, anguish and intense pleasure. Kat smiled as Ming shuddered in orgasm again and again, her expression not dissimilar to that of a woman in the throes of childbirth. Madam SIN and her fellow observer’s looked on with rapt interest and undisguised relish; they had never seen the Dark Angel subjected to treatment even remotely as diabolical as this. Ming, her eyes half closed, sighed loudly when Kat slowed down and eventually stopped the fucking machine and the cock slid out of her sex. She stiffened as Kat slowly removed the ginger root from her rectum and tossed it aside. Then, when Kat adjusted the angle and position of the machine and it became apparent what was next on the agenda, Ming’s eyes sprang open wide, and she shook her head vehemently, for Kat had positioned the tip of the cock against the dark crinkled raisin of her anus. Ming’s frantic attempts to articulate her objections were distorted beyond comprehension by the rubber ball that filled her mouth. When Kat flicked the switch on the console again, Ming tensed. What happened next was inevitable. The great round head of the artificial cock nuzzled against the hollow of Ming’s rectum, 472

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

forcing its way forward against the futile resistance of her sphincter muscles. The deep guttural groan as the cock impaled her seemed to emanate from her very core. And as the conscienceless latex replica picked up speed, steadily reaming the fallen Chinese dominatrix, Kat increased the electrical charge to her nipples and her sex. By turns grunting and groaning, Ming convulsed under the overpowering assault on her senses, her muscles and nerves spasming, her eyes rolling like those of a wild horse. Kat bent beside her to whisper in her ear. “Not so cold blooded now, are we Ming? You know, I believe one could die from a potent cocktail of pain and pleasure, and we wouldn’t want to lose you. Acknowledge me as Mistress and let us bring your torment to a close.” With what seemed a supreme act of will, Ming somehow contrived to assume, albeit briefly, an expression of stony equanimity. Her eyes burned with defiance, and she shook her head. Kat’s heart sank. Until this moment Ming’s responses to the treatment to which she had subjected her had been surprisingly encouraging, and she had dared to hope that she might, after all, be able to break the woman’s spirit. But Ming had now shown that she was made of sterner stuff than even Kat had suspected. Kat steeled herself, determined not to betray any hint that she admitted the possibility of defeat. Rising, she walked around the chair to the occasional table and picked up the leather flogger. “Very well,” she said, sternly, as she turned back to Ming. “You leave me no alternative. As my Mistress and dominatrix, you taught me many things, and I think you will agree that I was a good pupil.” Ming, although still careful to avert her gaze from Kat’s, had lost her transitory air of self mastery now, and had relapsed again to unintelligible cries of anguish as she writhed, struggled 473

Judith Devere

and strained in response to her ordeal of nipple torture, electric shocks and mechanical sodomy. “Above all things, Ming, you taught me through experience that the most exquisite agony a woman can experience comes from the kiss of the whip…on her cunt.” As she uttered the final word of this sentence, Kat struck out with the flogger, delivering its many tails unerringly to the open cleft of Ming’s sex in a crackling cascade of leather on the tenderest of flesh. She would not have believed that it was possible to scream out loud with the rubber ball gag firmly wedged in one’s mouth, but Ming gave the lie to this misconception now. The sound of Ming’s agony echoed around the room, her body straining against her bonds. Gratified, if a little disconcerted, at Ming’s reaction to the effect of the flogger on her exposed vulva, Kat quickly delivered another stroke. Then another. Ming shuddered and groaned and squirmed and screamed as Kat laid on stroke after stroke between her victim’s open thighs. Sweat had broken out on the hapless woman’s brow, and Kat even thought she detected tears in her eyes. Hope burgeoned in Kat’s breast. Surely, Ming could withstand very little more of this. And yet, even with the very scent of victory in her nostrils, it seemed Kat was to be thwarted. “Enough, Kat.” Madam SIN’s order stayed Kat’s arm in mid-swing. Frustrated on the brink of conquest, Kat turned to face the Mistress of Chateau Levequ. “But, Christina. I almost have her.” “Remember the conditions, Kat. You may not inflict serious injury upon Ming or permanently mark her. If I allowed you to continue along your present course, you would undoubtedly breach those conditions.” Kat turned her gaze upon the ultimate authority present. “Armand, surely you…” 474

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

Silencing her with a raised hand, Armand said, “I cannot and will not overrule Christina. She is right. If you continue to flog her like that, you will surely breach the conditions set.” The feeling of despair that had begun to descend on Kat at this pronouncement was mercifully short lived, dispelled by her belated recognition of the emphasis Armand had place on the word ‘you’; ‘If you continue to flog her…’ he had said. With comprehension came a surge of hope. “Very well. But I still have time left. My thirty minutes has not yet passed.” Madam SIN glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece over the great fireplace. Nodding her head, she confirmed Kat’s point. “Indeed. You still have six minutes, although I fail to see how you can hope to succeed now.” Kat turned quickly way and strode back to the table, to which she returned the flogger. In its place, she picked up the pearl cat. Like the flogger, the instrument was equipped with numerous slender tails, but these contained slender lead filaments for added weight, and had small pearls sewn into them, each with the power to sting tender flesh to far greater effect than mere leather. Moreover, the smooth nacreous surface of the pearls was marginally less likely to cause serious damage to flesh, provided the cat was applied with care. But care was not an option on this occasion. If Ming was to be broken, the pearl cat would have to be laid on with a force denied Kat by the conditions imposed on her by Madam SIN. That fact, however, did not disconcert Kat now, because in his careful articulation and emphasis, Armand had given her what she hoped was the key to victory. She moved around the chair now to stand on Ming’s right side. Although Ming’s paroxysms of torment continued unabated in response to her relentless anal reaming by the artificial cock, and the electrically augmented assault on her sex and nipples, there was an unmistakable gleam of 475

Judith Devere

optimism in her eyes now. In only minutes, her trial would be over and she would emerge triumphant over Kat. Or so she thought. Kat unbuckled Ming’s right wrist and placed the handle of the pearl cat in her hand. For the first time, Ming breached her instructions by looking at Kat, confusion and puzzlement now mingling with the manifestation of agony in her expression. Suddenly supremely confident, Kat smiled. “The moment of truth, Ming. I am forbidden to do personally what must be done to break you…and so I am delegating the task to you. Do you understand what is expected of you?” Ming clearly did not, for she simply stared at Kat. It was not until Kat spoke again that her expression of doubt metamorphosed to one of horrified comprehension. “You will take over the task of flogging your cunt, this time with the pearl cat. You will do it hard and fast…and to the best of your ability.” Ming’s brow furrowed deeply in protest. She shook her head vigorously. “Do it now, or lose by forfeit.” Ming now faced the possibility of defeat, trapped by her own pride and the mastery of her discipline. With a heavy sigh, she struck the first blow, screaming her agony into the ball gag. There were only four minutes left now, but Ming, honoring the conditions of her commitment, lashed out with a vengeance, laying stroke after vicious stroke upon her own naked and defenseless sex. The punishment she was administering to herself was far greater than Kat could possibly have inflicted without breaking the conditions of her test, but those conditions did not extend to Ming herself. Bound by her obligation to obey Kat, she had become the architect of her own downfall. Despite her obvious suffering, Ming the Dark Angel shivered in the nerve shattering throes of orgasm after orgasm in the final 476

Yes, Mistress - The Island of Madam Sin - Book 2

minutes of her agony. Kat counted, as Ming delivered no less than a dozen cruel strokes of the cat to her own vulva, before letting her arm fall across her belly, the tails of the cat lying scattered over her thighs and sex. She looked at Kat again, this time with a plaintive expression in her tear brimmed eyes. “Yes, Ming? Do you want me to remove your gag? Ming nodded, the movement spilling tears down her cheeks. Kat turned off the power to the equipment, smiled as she unbuckled and removed the ball gag. “Is there something you wish to say to me, Ming?” Ming raised her head a little, sniffed. “Yes,” she answered, her voice cracked and thick with tears. She looked briefly in turn at Frederique, Vladimir, Madam SIN and then Armand before returning her gaze to Kat. As she looked deep into Kat’s eyes there was a long moment of near silence, broken only by the sound of birdsong from beyond the open French windows. When Ming spoke again, it was with unconditional humility. “Yes…Mistress.”

The End

477

About the Author Judith Devere was born in 1962 in Hong Kong, where she lived with her Chinese mother and English father until the family moved to London in 1979. She studied oriental languages at Oxford University before embarking on a career in the diplomatic service. She has traveled extensively throughout Europe, the Americas, Asia and the Pacific region, and now lives in Paris. “Yes, Mistress”, the sequel to “Flesh – the Island of Madam SIN”, is her second full-length novel.