Mistress Kathy’s Academy of Domination and Submission
There were about thirty armored women staring at Adam. Their midriff-bearing armor was designed more for vanity than for functionality, but the swords in the scabbards were real. Most of the women were seated at wooden tables while their food was being served.
A few slaves of both sexes nervously tended to their needs. The servers were naked except for manacles on their wrists attached to steel collars with short chains that severely restricted the slaves’ movements and required them to stoop while setting food on the tables. The servers took no notice of the visitors, having numerous other tasks to keep them busy.
The armored women, on the other hand, were entirely focused on Adam.
“He’s with me,” announced Helga. “I’m giving him the tour.”
The guards relaxed a bit, but continued to stare.
“The Elite Guard is responsible for security at the Academy,” Helga explained to Adam. “Thanks to their efforts, escape attempts are unheard of.”
Helga led him through the dining hall to a door at the far end. As he left the room, he noticed one of the guards pointing a cell phone camera at him—capturing an image of his backside as he left.
So they’re not without technology, Adam thought to himself.
Helga led him down a long corridor with stone walls.
“Earlier you seemed concerned for the well-being of my Pony,” observed Helga. “That’s good. I’m thinking of having you trained as a stable boy. You would be responsible for the care and feeding of all the ponies. The position comes with some benefits.”
“Benefits?” he asked.
“Yes, here there is rank even among slaves. As a stable boy, you would be allowed the freedom to walk about the Citadel in the attendance of your duties. Those duties would include restraining the ponies prior to their feeding and bathing. Once they are restrained, you would strip them, feed them, shampoo them, and hose them down before reharnessing them. Their hooves are never removed, you see, and with hooves for hands, they can’t do any of those things for themselves. Your position would allow you to have your pick of the ponies any time you choose to indulge yourself.”
Helga led him through a maze of corridors. Other mistresses they encountered leered at him shamelessly.
“It’s hard to believe it would be safe for a sub to wander the halls unattended,” he said.
“That depends on what you mean by ‘safe.’ As a slave, you would have to be ready to satisfy the urges of any mistress without notice. But in time, you would learn to appreciate that kind of spontaneity. And as my slave, other mistresses would be barred from activities that left permanent marks on you. Permanent marks would be left to my discretion.”
The corridor led to a mezzanine overlooking a large room filled with industrial equipment. The machines were attended by weary female slaves in tank tops and g-strings, and the entire operation was overseen by whip-bearing mistresses. A conveyor belt transported a long line of dildos which the girls bagged and boxed for delivery.
“This is one of our factories,” said Helga. “Another of our revenue streams. We manufacture a wide variety of sex toys which we market on the internet. Our brand is known for its excellent quality and unusual designs.”
Helga led Adam to a newer part of the complex with polished floors and white walls. Except for the scantily clad people, it could have been a hospital. Most of the slaves were naked, and many of the mistresses chose to wear only high boots and corsets.
Such a mistress greeted them as she led her own slave by a leash. “Is this another recruit?” she asked. “He looks yummy!” She casually fingered herself as she leered at Adam.
“A student, actually,” Helga said, “but one who shows promise.”
“A student?” said the other mistress, a note of suspicion in her voice. “They’re not allowed in the Citadel.”
“Are you challenging my authority?”
The other mistress blanched. “No, Mistress Helga. I just wondered—”
“Then wonder quietly,” recommended Helga. “And somewhere else.”
The other mistress was quickly on her way. As Adam had suspected, not all mistresses were equal here, and Helga was high within the hierarchy.
Adam was led into an amphitheater where mistresses taking notes observed an experiment in progress. In the center of the room, a girl was attached to a kind of electric fucking machine, and electrodes were attached all over her body. As the machine churned and the girl panted in involuntary passion, a diagram of her brain was displayed on a large screen. A mistress in a lab coat pointed to the screen and commented authoritatively about changes happening within the pleasure center of the slave’s brain.
Helga whispered to avoid disturbing the proceedings. “Since desire is our industry, it pays to be on the cutting edge. We don’t share our findings with the outside world, so we’ve been able to accumulate quite a bit of knowledge unknown anywhere else. It’s safe to say we know more about sex than anyone on the planet. Perhaps you’d like to work here? The benefits of being a lab slave are rather obvious.”
The subject of the experiment cried out in ecstasy, using what little freedom she had to twist against the machine in euphoric spasms.
Adam said nothing, so Helga led him out of the room and down the next corridor.
“With all that research, it goes without saying that we have a first-rate medical facility. We have surgeons who are unequalled in surgical enhancement, but they also do other, more creative, alterations. For example, they’ve developed a brain implant that allows a mistress to induce an orgasm in her slave remotely—using a combination of cell phone technology and direct brain stimulation. Imagine that! All I would have to do is enter a number into my phone to pleasure you by remote control! I could dominate you without even knowing where you are!”
Adam said nothing.
“You’re being very quiet. If you’re waiting for permission to speak, you have it. I want you to ask questions. I want to show you that life as a slave here is not as bad as you may think.”
She led him into an older part of the Citadel and up a circular flight of stairs. He found himself being led into a wide hallway adjoining smaller rooms which appeared to be offices. The women who worked here wore business attire.
“This is an administrative area. Boring, I know, but it’s on the way to the porn studios. Would you enjoy being a porn slave?”
Helga stopped in her tracks, and for the first time, she looked startled. In front of her was the leering mistress who had questioned her earlier, and standing next to her was Mistress Kathy.
“Hello, Mistress Helga,” said Kathy. “Slave,” she acknowledged Adam. “Helga, I don’t believe this field trip is part of his curriculum.”
“I felt that an extra-curricular activity was in order,” said Helga. “I thought you were going to be at the party tonight, Mistress Kathy.”
“I left early,” said Kathy, “as apparently did you. Mistress Margo, would you watch over the slave for a moment while I have a word with Mistress Helga in private?”
“Of course,” said Helga with insincere courtesy. She looked at Margo menacingly. “Hands off the slave ’til I get back,” she warned.
As Kathy and Helga disappeared into an office together, Adam heard Kathy muttering angrily, “How much has he seen?” before closing the door.
There was an awkward silence as Adam and Mistress Margo stared at each other. Margo was not about to provoke Mistress Helga by sampling the new pet, so she kept a respectful distance.
Sounds of a heated discussion could be heard coming from the office, but they were not distinct enough to make out words. Margo turned toward the sounds in apparent interest.
“Stay here. Do nothing,” she told Adam. Then she wandered over to the office door and stood in front of it—doing a poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop.
Adam looked around to get a better sense of his environment. It was after dark, and almost all of the administrative staff were leaving for the night. The lighting and décor of the room were modern–unlike the rest of the building–so Adam guessed that this part of the Citadel must have been modified for its current purpose. He noticed a sign on the wall.
There’s a destination she hasn’t mentioned, thought Adam.
The hall was mostly empty except for Margo who no longer made a pretense of not eavesdropping on the conversation in Kathy’s office. He realized that for the first time since his arrival on the island, he was neither restrained nor watched.
He casually wandered in the direction of the Dungeon. The sign pointed toward a very old door with a very old sign.
The door was ajar, but the room beyond was dark.
He looked at Margo at the far end of the large hall. She wasn’t paying attention to him.
He pushed open the door and wandered inside. The room was extremely dark, but he was able to make out items of furniture—a chair, a table, a floor lamp. The décor had an extreme goth influence, and the furniture had been molded into disturbing shapes which in the dark resembled the figures of anguished slaves in extreme positions.
Weird, he thought. The Dungeon has a foyer—with a design influenced by H.R. Giger.
He ventured further into the room. He thought he saw a door at the far end, but in the dark he couldn’t be sure. He saw a grotesque floor lamp whose base was shaped like a woman in a cocoon. He reached for the pull chain to turn the lamp on.
“Slave!” shouted Margo who was now standing in the doorway. “You shouldn’t be here!” She grabbed Adam’s leash and pulled him angrily from the dark room.
She dragged him to a supply cabinet where she found wrist cuffs with which to restrain him. “I see I misjudged you,” she said. “I thought you were sensible enough to behave for at least one minute. I’ll just have to make you sensible.”
She secured his arms behind his back and ordered him to kneel. She was about to manacle his feet together when Kathy and Helga emerged from the office.
“Oh, who’s been naughty?” teased Helga.
“He needs to learn his place,” said Margo. “I was about to do his feet.”
“No need,” said Helga. “I’ll take him from here.” To Adam she said, “Stand, slave. Kathy and I have finished our discussion. I’m taking you back to the slave compound.”
Helga attempted to lead Adam away, but he abruptly turned toward Mistress Kathy and blurted, “How is Mistress Monica? Is she mad at me?” He knew it was dangerous to ask, but he also knew that Helga would never answer this question directly.
“Excuse me?” Kathy inquired.
“I wondered why she didn’t go to the party. Is it because she’s angry with me?”
“Concern for your mistress? That’s sweet—especially considering the awkward position she’s put you in.” Kathy looked at Helga, then back at Adam. “Helga hasn’t told you?”
“I did,” said Helga, “though I omitted some parts.”
Kathy smiled at Helga. “I think I can imagine what you left out, naughty girl.” Kathy turned to Adam. “According to her contract, Monica is entitled to certain privileges, but those privileges may be revoked if she misbehaves. One of her privileges is you. Mistress Monica wanted to go to the party, but I would not allow it.”
“Why not?” asked Adam.
“A disciplinary situation with a mistress is not something I can discuss with a slave.”
“Will I see her tomorrow?”
“Again, it’s not something I can discuss with a slave.
“Come along, sweetie,” said Helga in a tone far less gentle than her words. “You’ve made enough mischief tonight.” She tugged harshly on his leash to underscore her point.
Helga took him by a different route through a series of stairways and outside into the humid night air. There was almost no foot traffic left by this time, although there were still a variety of slave-drawn carriages out and about. The “ponies” seemed to have identical looks of quiet despair as they trod silently with their burdens.
Finally Adam and Helga reached the stable where the sulky awaited—hitched to the same Pony as before. Adam still had his hands cuffed behind his back when they stepped aboard.
“Compound!” commanded Helga, and the Pony trudged forward.
“Well, what do you think so far?” Helga asked.
“I think you got into some trouble tonight,” said Adam.
“More impudence?” she warned. “Don’t think that because I’m in a forgiving mood that I will forget your cheeky behavior tonight. It just amuses me to put these little indiscretions of yours on your tab—which you will pay back at a later time. Be that as it may, I was asking what you thought about living here on the island. As you can see, not all slaves are equal. Some rise to positions of importance—within the limits of their kind. Not all slaves rank as low as my Pony here.”
Adam tried not to think about the Pony. “This is the first time you’ve asked my opinion on anything,” he said.
Helga remained silent, so Adam dared to pursue the matter further.
“I think your negotiations with Monica have stalled. She’s not about to sell me so easily, whatever she may have said earlier. You think the sale will be easier if you can get me to go along with the idea. You think I can convince Monica we should stay.”
“You presume much.”
“What Mistress Kathy said only confirms it. You’re changing tactics–playing hardball with Monica while giving me the soft sell. I should be scared now, but I’m actually relieved. Your pitch isn’t working.”
“Your assumptions are reasonable. Some of them may even be correct. But you’re not as clever as you think you are.”
“What have I left out?”
“Don’t think that anything that happened tonight changes my plans in the slightest. I will have my way with you at the time of my choosing.”
“Am I wrong?
“I’ve decided you will not speak any more. Be silent.”
He was. He had little to gain by provoking her further.
Half an hour later, the carriage reached the slave dorms. The poor Pony was exhausted. Mistress Ling was there to greet them as they stepped out of the carriage.
“Is everything ready?” asked Helga.
“Everything is as you requested,” said Ling.
“Did they resist?”
“No, tonight’s party has wound up their libidos considerably. They were eager to help. Here is the blindfold for the slave.”
“What’s that for?” asked Adam.
Helga swatted him harshly across the ass with her crop. “Be a dear, Ling, and gag him for me. He still hasn’t learned his place, and his impudence upsets me.”
Helga stepped behind Adam. “Oh, and take this with you.” Helga pulled Adam’s only remaining garment down around his ankles. With a push, she forced him to step out of the silk thong and handed it to Ling. “He won’t need it.”
Adam was gagged, then blindfolded. He heard Helga circle to the front of him.
“The time of my choosing,” she whispered, “is now.”
Helga gripped him firmly—not by the leash—and led him inside.
Adam hated blindfolds, so this was a new level of humiliation and horror for him. His classmates were back from their party by now, so he knew they must be watching him as Helga led him by the cock through the middle of their living quarters. And yet he heard no giggles, no whispers, as he was led down the hall.
She took him around a corner. “Stairs,” she said. “Down.” She led him down a stairwell that he never suspected was there. He would have been afraid of falling except she never actually left his side or loosened her grip.
He was led down what he assumed must be another corridor, then around more corners, through more rooms. He was thoroughly disoriented, and he was sure that he was in a place he had never been before.
“Turn,” she commanded. “Step back.”
He backed into a kind of padded table. She removed his cuffs, but left the gag and blindfold in place.
“Lie down.” With Helga’s assistance he complied. The table was only a foot wide, just wide enough to support him without tipping him off. Helga tied his arms so they extended behind him, off the sides of the table, and made the bonds so tight his arms could not move and his hands could touch nothing. Then she fastened his collar to the platform so he could not lift his head. She tied his legs together at the knees and ankles. A chain was attached to his ankle cuffs which stretched him so he could not bend at the hips or the knees.
“Please struggle,” Helga said. “I enjoy when my slave struggles.”
He did not comply. He knew he was entirely immobilized and it was useless to try to escape.
He felt an electric shock go up his thigh which made him shout. “I said struggle!” she commanded. He squirmed knowing it was an act of futility.
“Better,” she said. “All my toys are here in this room, so when I’m in here, noncompliance really isn’t an option.”
Lubricant was poured onto his body. Her hands moved freely around his protrusions. He became acutely aware of his own heavy breathing.
“You’re getting all excited, you wicked thing.” She straddled him, feeling her thighs—her naked thighs–against him as she playfully stroked his cock.
“Would you like to see my pretty toys? You must be curious.”
He nodded. His blindfold was removed. Holy shit.
Naked, Helga was a knockout. She leaned over him grinning like a maniac, leering in a way that only someone in absolute control can. But that wasn’t what surprised him.
The ceiling was covered with chains, pulleys and anchors. The walls were covered with every variety of bondage implement, some archaic, some electronic, some unidentifiable. But that wasn’t what surprised him.
He suddenly realized why no one had said a word when he was led naked and blind through the slave girls’ living quarters. It was because they were never there.
They were all here in this room.
Each girl was naked, gagged and bound in an upright position straddling a uniquely designed mount. These were arranged in a circle around him in a kind of amphitheater. Each girl was entirely immobilized, unable to shift her position in the slightest. Each had her ankles suspended so her weight was born entirely on the most sensitive part of her anatomy. And each had an intimate view of what was about to happen to Adam.
“Aren’t they pretty?” she asked. “I brought out all my toys to make our first time memorable.”
Even if he hadn’t been gagged, he would have been speechless.
“I’ve made an impression on you,” she purred. “But before I really get into it, we should start with a little mood music.”
She picked up a remote control and pressed a button. What happened next wasn’t music, but it set a mood.
Inside each mount, a small motor came to life. The room erupted in a chorus of startled moans.
“Anyone can play music,” she said. “I brought a choir.”
His classmates filled the air with gasps of pleasure. “They’ve got a head start on us,” said Helga. “We’ll have to catch up.” Helga slipped him inside of her as the moaning intoxicated him.
“The machines are our own design,” she panted. “More than simple fucking machines.”
As she moved her body against his in delight, she continued to glare evilly at him in a way that frightened him. He looked away, but no matter where he looked he found more eyes focused on him.
And the moaning grew louder.
“Each device has an automated dildo with a chemical sensor. It detects the exact moment of orgasm in each of them.”
Adam closed his eyes and surrendered entirely to the moment.
“The machines turn themselves off when their users are ultimately satisfied. And oh, how they will be satisfied! Just listen to them!”
The moans intensified. They were mingled with his own.
Helga said nothing more that could be understood. Words became grunts. Grunts became demonic yells. In the next uncountable minutes, she drew energy from the other girls until she seemed to be something other than human.