Chapter Six
Anton Lestrade stood at the tower window, looking out across the unhealthy looking green of the Caribbean. He knew the color came from natural causes, algae, or plankton perhaps, that the sea here was reasonably clean, compared to other places on earth. Still, he was Canadian born, a child of the Great Lakes, and grew up thinking that water should be blue. It wasn’t the water drawing his attention now; it was the motor launch coming in to shore. Another slave is arriving in Domain.
There was a time when he would have brought her in himself, and trained her personally. Those days were long past now. There were others who would take care of those details. He was too busy being dictator and supreme ruler of Domain, titles he applied to himself with sharp irony.
Power had never been his goal. His mini empire had started as a private club, his rise due more to accident than ambition.
A combination of hard work and good luck had brought him wealth early in life, and he had come to the realization one day that he could not possibly live long enough to spend it all on himself.
Parallel to the growth of his financial empire, but separate from it, a closely kept secret in fact, was his involvement in the world of sexual dominance and submission. It had started small, with a couple he met at a costume party. He suspected that the costumes they wore were psychologically revealing.
“Does your wife wear a collar at home as well?” he had asked, laughing.
The husband, who was not laughing, had answered that she did wear a collar, and nothing else.
From that first meeting he had progressed from tentative experimentation to intense involvement. He became frustrated by the fact he had to hide his activities from a world that neither understood nor approved. He and his friends could only reveal their true natures for short periods of time, and only in seclusion. Then they had to put on masks of normality and return to a world that called itself real, but was in fact only a masquerade of another kind. He began to understand that he could not change the world, but he could set aside a piece of it, and create it in his own image.
An oil exploration company which he owned had used a small island for its base of operations. Finding no oil in the area, the geologists and workers had moved on, leaving behind a ghost town of shacks and equipment. It was cheaper to replace than to ship. Ironically, geothermal energy had been found there, enough to supply heat and electricity for a small town. Hot springs and abundant fresh water made the idea of a resort appealing, but the reefs and sharks around the island made swimming and pleasure boating dangerous.
Lestrade and his personal accountant, Bob Rayburn, had gone out to inspect the island, taking along the ladies who would later become their wives. The four of them, Anton and Gina, Bob and Trish, had developed a closeness rare among couples. The men were dominant, the ladies submissive. The four of them had “played” together on many occasions. As Gina liked to say, they were bonded by bondage.
When Lestrade suggested on the boat going over that the women be kept naked and bound during the entire weekend, the idea was eagerly accepted by all. The two girls were marched ashore wearing nothing except smiles and handcuffs, evoking memories of pirate stories and jungle dramas that had entertained them all as children. They explored the vacant buildings and empty streets of a twentieth century boomtown, a place now wrapped in silence. While Bob was eagerly using a chainfall to suspend Trish upside down in a service garage, Lestrade walked slowly and silently up and down the streets. Gina walked, naked, two paces behind him. She knew him well enough to recognize deep thought when she saw it, and held her tongue as she maintained her distance. It was enough for her to know that she wore his collar, that he would use her later.
He did.
The moon looked down on Gina, bound between two upright posts in the center of town. Firelight reflected off her naked skin, casting deep shadow over the space between her breasts, the hollow of her navel, and the dark patch between her legs. She felt like the heroine in a “B’ movie, captured by Indians, awaiting rape and torture. In the movies, the handsome hero always came in the nick of time. For her there would be no rescue: that thought made her shiver with delight.
He gathered willow branches, thin and flexible, and used them to whip her from neck to knees. He enjoyed the barbaric sight of her body doing an erotic dance of pain under the stars. Her shrieks were a song of pain and joy. He placed spring clips on her nipples and labia, hanging weights on them to increase the stress. He used a huge dildo to sodomize her. Through it all, Gina gasped and moaned, but never asked for mercy.
“If I had an iron, I would brand you,” he rasped, as he stood admiring her wracked loveliness.
“If you had an iron,” she panted through her pain; “I would ask you to.”
When he set her free, she dropped to the ground and crawled to him. She took him deep into her mouth and sucked greedily, as though seeking nourishment from him, and only paused long enough to beg him to fuck her.
“Where,” he demanded, “which hole do you want filled?”
“All of them.”
Before the long night had ended, her request had been granted. They spent the night in a tool shed. Lestrade slept on a cot the workmen had left behind. Gina lay on the floor at his feet, her hands cuffed behind her, writhing with frustrated desire. She had lost count of the orgasms he had wrung from her. She still wanted more, but the cuffs prevented her from satisfying herself.
In the morning, he took her again, driving deep, leading her over the brink once more.
On the boat going home, the girls dressed, rejecting the bikinis they had worn on the way over for slacks and blouses. They had marks to cover. Gina spoke for all of them when she said, “I hate to leave. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted to be your naked slave for life.”
“We will come back,” Lestrade promised.
When they returned to the mainland, Lestrade and Rayburn began to lay plans. They had a vision of a private kingdom where Masters would rule and slaves serve. At the time, they thought it would be small, a dozen people perhaps, recruited from among their personal friends.
They built a castle on the island, a Gothic fortress with towers and high walls. Though it evoked a bygone age, it was equipped with modern amenities like plumbing and electricity. No castle was complete without a dungeon, of course. Lestrade moved his business operations there, keeping in contact with the mainland by phone, and later by fax machine. He found few reasons to leave, and he never stayed away long.
He married Gina. After the public ceremony with lace and flowers, they traveled to the island where they enacted a private ceremony. She stripped naked and pledged herself to serve as his slave for life. He branded her, and she became the first Class A slave on Domain. That had been twenty years ago. Gina had not been off of the island since that night, and she had never worn anything except his collar. Even now she occupied a tiny cell in the dungeon, doing penance for a minor infraction. She was still beautiful, (in his eyes at least) and when he punished her, he did it with love. They satisfied each other’s deepest needs.
Domain had grown. Lestrade and Rayburn had contacted Tonia Aldona, a dominant woman they knew, and she had suggested the names of others who belonged there. Discreet interviews had produced investors who saw a chance to build a dream and make a fantasy real.
Early into the enterprise, Lestrade had seen the need for an orderly system and had set down rules. Every person who set foot on Domain was interviewed and psychologically tested. They signed an oath of allegiance, pledging to keep the location of Domain a secret, and never to tell the names of anyone who lived there. Everyone was tested for disease, and drugs were prohibited. In addition to laws against theft and murder, there were guidelines regarding the treatment and disposition of slaves. No slave came to Domain without first being told what fate was in store for him or her. They signed waivers that gave the kingdom of Domain complete control of their bodies and minds. They were tested to see if their commitment was complete. Once in Domain, they were not allowed to change their minds. Some slave contracts had time limits. Others did not.
A planned city developed. All the architecture was of the same kind as Lestrade’s castle. Motor vehicles were banned, and slave drawn rickshaws became the vehicles of choice. On an island of only a hundred square miles, they were enough.
Eventually, the population of Domain settled into a caste system. At the top were the Masters and Mistresses, wealthy people who had built the island and managed its affairs. Below them were the guards, recruited from the ranks of professional dominants, military intelligence, and mercenary soldiers. They were entrusted with the security of the island and the training of slaves.
The slaves had classes as well. Class C slaves were like unpaid prostitutes. Domain provided them with a comfortable life, and in exchange, they were available sexually to guards and Masters. For a woman who enjoyed frequent sex with a variety of partners, but wanted to enjoy herself in a place free from the dangers of disease, drugs, and physical assault, Domain was a sort of heaven. Class C slaves were allowed to go where they pleased, and dress if they wished. A ribbon of red silk tied around their throats identified them.
Class B slaves were the worker bees of the hive. They signed contracts which specified whether or not they would be sexually available, and to whom, and in what manner. Many of them were artists and craftsmen, who wanted to work, but found little market for their skills in the outside world. For them Domain was a patron, and the work they produced could be seen everywhere in the city. Other Class B slaves were submissives who wanted to be dominated, but lacked the courage to make a total surrender. They were given jobs doing menial work or clerical tasks. They were often naked except for leather collars and the protective gear required to perform their duties, but there was no law prohibiting them from wearing clothing. They were only punished for gross disobedience or criminal offences. The most severe of these punishments were banishment or demotion to Class A status.
At the very bottom were the Class A slaves. Most of them were females, though a few attractive males had been allowed to join their ranks. They had no rights, were sexually available in every way, and could be punished for no reason at all. Mere property, they could be bought and sold, and belonged completely to their Masters.
Every Class A slave who came to the island was taken to the training center, where they were mentally and physically conditioned for the period of time necessary. Usually this took about two months. Once a year, new slaves were sold at public auction.
The slaves were told they would serve for life, but in practical terms that had proved unrealistic. A master who purchased a slave went through a sort of “honeymoon”, a time when he took delight in using and abusing his new toy. After that he either grew tired of the slave and sold it to another Master, or found himself growing overly fond of the slave. Some slaves had been freed. Some had even become Masters themselves. Oddly enough, freed slaves often became the cruelest Masters.
Sometimes, Masters would leave the island and take their slaves with them, never to be heard from again. Lestrade tried to keep the laws of Domain flexible enough to allow for all possibilities.
In years past, there had been as many as forty slaves at a time sold at the auction, but now the demand for new slaves was not as great. There were five Class A slaves in the training center, waiting for an auction now two months away. The guards were keeping them amused while they waited, and no girl was allowed to languish in her cell for long.
The girl who arrived today would bring their number to six.