Island of Submission Ch. 03


Copyright © 2016 BJ Gorson. All rights reserved.

Chapter 3 A Room with a View

Joanne walked gracefully, like a dancer. Proudly, like a princess. And, with her deliberately sensuous movements, just a bit wantonly, like a slut. How could one person be all these things simultaneously? Poised, cool and elegant, and sexy and provocative and – available. Must be a woman thing; I had my own problems.

With my erection only slightly under control and a seriously embarrassing wet patch, my own manly gait was rather more like a circus clown with a wooden leg.

Watching Joanne as I followed her wasn’t helping: her legs were long, slim and incredibly lovely, bare all the way up from her high-heeled black ankle boots. Her bottom was a dream: flawless, toned and gorgeously rounded; totally not concealed by a tiny black thong and gauzy strip of black fabric masquerading as a micro skirt. Her lean body above a narrow waist was lightly muscled, with slender arms and elegant neck. The tight black top she wore, basically a sports bra, strained to hold in place her luscious young breasts, which it also perfectly outlined. In motion, she was a dream; she seemed to flow rather than just walk.

As she turned to look at me at the next door, I was dazed by her beauty. White teeth and soft pouting lips, in a mischievous, teasing smile that I was coming to recognise; light crystal blue eyes that actually sparkled, and seemed to stop my heart whenever they met my gaze; perfect, fine-featured, high-cheekboned face framed by long hair of spun gold. Okay, clichéd — but honestly, I didn’t have the words.

“Please Master” she said, opening the door, “after you”.

Following me inside, she closed the door behind us. This large room was quite different from those I had seen before. Floor, ceiling and all but one wall were of glowing light blond wood. The room looked like a luxury sauna: there was no steam at the moment, but it was warm, almost hot. The wall facing me was of black glass, forming a dark mirror. Inside the room there were several items of interest.

A small pool, like a low hot tub, took up one corner, its clear warm water bubbling gently.

In another corner a steel pole, of the pole dancing variety, stretched from floor to ceiling. A few metres away, two steel hurdles like parallel bars were bolted to the floor, but one at waist height and the other at knee height. Each was perhaps two metres long, and though parallel, the bars were a metre apart.

There were various items of furniture, including a generous white leather sofa, a large wooden table, and two large white leather ottomans or foot stools, one round and the other rectangular. I noticed that the legs of all the furniture had steel rings attached. Two storage cupboards stood against one wall, next to other steel rings set in the wall at various heights.

A single chair of unusual design was placed two metres from the glass wall, facing it. The chair was of gleaming steel with a skeletal back and arm rests, but a small white padded leather seat more like a stool. Behind the chair was a third ottoman, this one small, and the same height as the chair seat.

And next to the chair knelt two very beautiful girls. They were in profile to me, facing each other and very close together. Both, I saw, had grey-green eyes and light ash brown hair tumbling midway down their backs, and their tanned bodies were superb: slim but large-breasted. The girls were not identical, but they did look like a deliberately matched pair. They wore matching soft pink lipstick and identical lingerie: a filmy black bra and tiny black lace panties.

The girls’ hands were cuffed behind them with silver bracelets, and I could see why they knelt so close together, each leaning in slightly towards the other: there was something in their mouths. Each pair of full pink lips was widely stretched around the end of a single object, which seemed to connect them. Looking closer, I realised that it was a large double-ended dildo. Each slave was carefully holding several inches of hard pink plastic in her mouth, so that their faces were only six inches apart, each girl’s eyes looking across into those of her bondage sister. And from each girl’s lovely mouth and down her chin there descended a thin trail of saliva, while a little splash of moisture lay on the floor below. Clearly, the hard plastic cock violating their mouths left them unable to swallow properly, and the helpless girls were forced to drool humiliatingly in their bondage, while watching and being watched by their sister slave in the same predicament.

I did not know how long these women had knelt in this position, but once again it was clear that slave girls here were kept under rigid discipline.

“Would you please sit down Master?” said Joanne, indicating the steel chair. The seat was slightly tilted, and so shaped that the comfortable sitting position was with my hips forward, and legs apart. Joanne stepped back, and a few moments xslot later the wall of black glass in front of me turned clear.

I looked through into another room, virtually a mirror image of this one: same blond wooden floor and walls, same door opposite, and identically placed pool, steelwork and furniture.

In the other room the steel chair facing mine was empty, but another two matched slave girls knelt beside it. These two girls had been placed in the equivalent spot, and secured in the same way: kneeling, back-braceleted, facing each other, their mouths forced open by another double-ended dildo. These girls were more deeply tanned than the two in my room, with long black hair falling in waves to their waists and dark eyes; they wore matching red lipstick and the same design of skimpy bra and flimsy lace panties, but in a fiery red shade that set off their darker colouring.

“One way mirror?” I asked Joanne.

“No Master” she replied. “Clear glass, so they can see us too. But I have set the sound to one-way only. They can’t hear us.”

Moments later the door opposite me opened. A male trainer in dark shirt and trousers, carrying a crop, strode in and pushed the door closed behind him. He was fit and well-muscled, in his early forties at a guess, with cropped hair and a trim beard, both dark but heavily frosted with grey. He looked at Joanne and me and inclined his head in formal salute, then walked over to look at the bound slaves in his room.

I saw the girls straighten their bodies and try to hold themselves even more beautifully under the trainer’s scrutiny. With his crop he lifted their chins slightly, the girls responding obediently and keeping their heads a little higher as he directed.

Satisfied, the trainer then removed and pocketed both girls’ bracelets. He carefully extracted the large dildo from their mouths, and with a clean cloth wiped their mouths and chins. The girls of course remained kneeling in position, their wrists pressed tightly together, their faces still only a few inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes.

As the trainer did this, Joanne stepped over to the two kneeling slaves in our room and did the same thing.

The trainer then moved the steel chair in his room to face the steel pole, and sat down, sideways on to me and perhaps five metres away.

“Lucia, to my feet. Bianca, to the pole.” I could hear his voice clearly, even detecting a slight Greek accent. The girls leaped to their feet and rushed to obey. One knelt between his feet, her knees wide apart, wrists crossed behind her, shoulders back and poised, presenting her large, firm breasts beautifully while looking up at him. The other slave knelt at the pole, her legs either side of it, breasts and belly pressed against the cold steel, wrists behind her, and her face slightly tilted so that her full lips could hold a kiss against the pole, while her eyes were fixed on the trainer.

Back in my room, Joanne gave a crisp command.

“Slave girls: to your Master’s feet.”

They both ran to me and knelt, positioning themselves so that each girl knelt close in against one of my legs, her crotch resting above the foot, breasts over my knees, smiling up at me with excited eyes. With their wrists crossed behind them, their shoulders back, and their bodies held beautifully posed and straight, their luscious breasts were well presented to my view. The scanty black lace bras did nothing to conceal their loveliness.

And glancing back, I saw Joanne settle herself into a kneeling position on the ottoman behind me. When she spoke to me, her voice was low and sexy in my ear.

“I should introduce these slave girls to you, Master. Kneeling at your left leg, trembling a little with excitement I see, is Cristina. She is one of our best fellatrices. Her blowjobs have been scored as high as mine were, when I was at her stage of training. Of course, I have learned much since then. Till now, we’ve never served together on the same Master. I think you would enjoy the two of us desperately trying to please your manhood, competing for your cum in our mouths.

“And the slave girl at your right leg, with those lovely large breasts, is Laura. She may look cool, but she is extremely submissive. You can see how erect her nipples are, just from kneeling before a Master. She is very vulnerable to her needs and her nature. I think that when you break her to your will and conquer her, you will find her helpless submission quite delicious.”

In the other room, the trainer spoke again.

“Slaves, release your wrists. Lucia – you may start to please me. Do not undo any clothing yet. Bianca — perform.”

The girl at his feet began to run her hands slowly and sexily over his legs, caressing them, then rubbing her body against him and bringing her head down to humbly kiss and please him.

Meanwhile, Bianca planted a long, lingering, open-mouthed kiss upon the upright steel pole, while her hands stroked it and she pushed her large xslot Giriş breasts up and down against it. Then she rose sinuously to her feet and began to dance around the pole and writhe against it, her hands caressing up and down it, her taut stomach and hot pussy in those wispy red panties rubbing against it. She turned too, to press her bottom against the pole and slide it up and down, then twisted again, displaying her superb figure – accented, not concealed, by the scanty red lingerie. Then she was using her hands to mould her magnificent breasts against the pole, sliding sensuously up and down, licking it too, and kissing it subserviently.

Next, raising one shapely leg and hooking it round the pole, she performed a number of pole dancing moves. Spinning round the pole, climbing up it and sinking down, both head up and head down. Wrapping her long, tanned legs around it in a variety of positions. Kneeling again submissively at its foot, clutching the pole to her and worshipping it with her hands and mouth and body. I had seen my share of pole dances, and some of these moves were familiar, but this girl was so much more slavish and erotic in the way she touched the pole and pressed her body against it. This was not about gymnastics. It was about a symbolic total submission to the unyielding steel pole — and everything it represented — and blatant, searing, provocative sexuality.

This girl was beautiful. Her lean, tanned body glistened now with perspiration as she worked herself with an incandescent erotic energy. For a man, to see her was to want, desperately, to fuck her. To grasp and knead that soft female flesh, to force her to your will, to penetrate her mouth with your tongue and her pussy with your steel cock, to tame her hot belly and take the fire of her, breathing it in and sending it back at her a thousand fold. To take her submission, shatter her and bring you both to glory and ecstasy. She was incredible.

And I was in trouble. Because at the same moment that Bianca’s pole dance commenced and Lucia began on her knees to serve the trainer’s pleasure, the three girls in my room had started to work on me.

At my feet, the two gorgeous slave girls with their light ash hair began to kiss and caress me just as Lucia was doing. For the moment they were holding back from touching my groin, with its immediately tenting erection, but everything else they could reach was caressed and stroked, brushed and fondled, rubbed and kissed and licked.

At the same time, Joanne knelt forward behind me. Had she put on some new perfume? Previously on her hair and skin I had smelled only a fresh, sweet, romantic scent. Now I inhaled some warm and musky fragrance, a sultry combination of jasmine and amber, perhaps — deeper, more seductive and arousing. Even more arousing when she pressed her ripe breasts against my back and ran her hands lightly over my shoulders and chest, while licking and nibbling at my ear, her soft hair tickling my neck.

The sensations were exquisite. Bianca’s dancing was arousing in me a slow burn of desire, deep, primeval and incredibly powerful that must sooner or later bypass, or just overpower, any rational thought. My eyes flickered between her and the two lovely girls kneeling at my feet, running their hands over me, bending over to lick and kiss at my bare ankle, holding their breasts up and writhing slowly for my delectation, nibbling along my inner thighs, and everything else they were doing to arouse me and force me to feel, in that moment, the fires of a million nerve cells beginning to drive me mad.

And Joanne was caressing me with feathery touches, tracing nerve lines of fire across my torso, grazing my skin or lightly flicking over a nipple, her wicked mouth sucking and licking and kissing constantly at sensitive spots that left me dazed and panting with desire. I knew that now, in this room, she would show me no mercy. So of course she fucked with my brain as well.

“Mmmm, Master” she whispered between tantalisingly sensuous licks and sucks, her breath like flame in my ear, “this is going to be so hot. Three slave girls devoting ourselves totally to one Master…ahhh…We’re going to make you feel so good. We’re going to kiss and lick and caress you everywhere. We’re going to…mmm…serve you and please you and turn you on…mmm…and then submit to you, and be so good Master. Mmmm…So good for you. Better than anything…mmm…anything you’ve ever felt before.

“You’ll take us and…ahhh…you’ll come so much, over and over again. Come in our mouths, come inside us…ahhh…come on our pretty faces and over our breasts….mmm…Then make us suck up every drop. Have us lick your cum off each other’s bodies…mmm…Make us moan and scream for you. Command us to do whatever you want. Make us submit to you…ahhh…Own us, tie us up, humiliate us and force our service from us, however you wish…mmm…Make us beg to serve you. Have us kiss you and lick you and please you with our tongues, while you…mmm…spank xslot Güncel Giriş us, if you want to. Mmmm, I’d like that. Whatever you have ever wanted from a woman, take it from us…mmm…Make us give you everything we have, and more. Use us as your complete fucktoys. Nail us. Screw up till we whimper. Have us in every position that a man can have a woman…mmm…Own us in every way, totally. We beg you to…ahh…use us. We beg to please you.

“Mmmm, Master, I can’t wait.”

In this hot room, even with just the beginning of these attentions, I had broken out in a sweat. There was moisture too on the skin of the two girls at my feet. I was, of course, fully erect, and now starting to squirm slightly in this chair — which was cunningly designed to allow the girls access to as much of my body as possible. They had not yet in this room touched my throbbing cock — and I wanted it so much. Desperate though I was becoming, in the hands of these three gorgeous nymphs, I gritted my teeth and tried to regain some control. At least I now knew that this was some sort of game or test, so I had an anchor point for mental leverage. All I had to do was keep control of myself, to not lose it. Simple.


In the other room the trainer, damn him, seemed rather better composed. He was watching Bianca at the pole closely, mostly seeming to ignore the slave at his feet whose efforts to arouse him were becoming increasingly fervent. He seemed to come to a decision.

“Bianca,” he said. “Enough. You dance well. Both of you, stand before me, relax.”

Bianca and Lucia swiftly positioned themselves in front of the trainer, standing straight, posed sexily but informally, legs positioned artfully, arms by their sides or with hands resting lightly on thighs. Bianca was breathing heavily from her efforts.

In my room, Joanne gestured and the two girls at my feet likewise stood, a little to one side so as not to obstruct my view, their limbs too arranged artistically as if they were modelling their flimsy bra and panties. They were unbelievably beautiful.

“Strip” the trainer commanded.

In his room Bianca and Lucia obeyed with alacrity, swiftly removing their skimpy lingerie, then standing proud, straight and naked before him.

And in my room, at a nod from Joanne, Cristina and Laura did the same, quickly exposing themselves to my view, fully and letting their underwear drop to the floor. Both girls’ gorgeous boobs were tip-tilted with erect nipples, rose pink and delightful. Both these lovelies were full-breasted, but Laura’s were quite a bit larger; my eyes roamed over their flat stomachs, slim figures and long legs. I wanted them both. Now.

Then Joanne herself stepped in front of me.

She had at some point already removed her high-heeled boots, and stood before me in black sports bra, tiny thong and gauzy micro skirt. She allowed herself more time than the other girls, and posed before me, hip tilted a little, one leg straight and the other curved a little forward with knee bent and heel off the ground. Looking deeply into my eyes, she slowly reached her hands up to pull the bra over her head, dropping it to the floor. Shaking her golden hair back into place, she then placed her hands behind her and drew her shoulders back, arching her body slightly, and held that pose for a few seconds. Her firm young breasts, bare now to my ravenous gaze, were full, rounded, golden-tanned, ripe and lovely. Tipped with jutting nipples. Perfect.

As she held that pose, she smiled at me, sweetly, sexily and mischievously. I melted inside.

Next she put her hands to her hips, unfastened some hidden hook on the little skirt and removed it with a taunting twist of the material, sliding it around her body. And let it fall, lightly, into my lap, draping over my erection.

She placed her hands on her hips again with her fingers on the little black thong. Then turned sideways on to me, twined her legs so that one ankle was crossed before the other, and stretched up, legs straight, onto her toes. She turned her head to face me, tossing her hair to fall onto her other shoulder so that she could keep looking into my eyes. Then slowly, slowly she bent from the waist, sliding the panties down her long, smooth legs, in a perfect display of balance and sensuality. She was impossibly lovely in profile: her shapely legs, her gorgeous bottom, taut stomach and full breasts making me ache with desire. Her fingers reached down to touch her toes, and with graceful movements of her feet the thong was off. She was completely naked. Slowly and easily, still keeping her balance, she stood again, and turned to face me, holding the panties in one hand. Her body was hairless, slim, golden, and lovely — the most desirable thing I had ever seen. She let me drink in her nude beauty for a moment, then gracefully stretched out her arm and, with a sultry look at me, dropped the thong too into my lap. Then she padded gracefully over to stand by the other two slave girls.

Beyond the glass, the trainer spoke.

“Turn around” he said, making a small motion with his fingers and his two girls slowly turned before him, displaying their naked beauty, then facing him again. My three did the same.

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