Mistress Kathys Wicked Protege Ch 04

The hospital at Oasis had a shower room which had been hastily converted into a decontamination area. Two shapely doctors in gas masks and skintight latex hazmat suits entered the shower room pushing Adam in front of them.

He now wore a latex hazmat suit himself—tailored slightly differently from theirs, but just as form-fitting. The latex doctors had forced him to put on the suit before they'd brought him here.

The gas mask was uncomfortable, designed to fit tightly against the latex hood that gripped his head. The suit had been somehow made from a single piece of latex with only a single opening for his face and a single zipper extending from the small of his back to just under his scrotum. The latex was tough, flexible, and mostly opaque except at key stretch points which made him reluctant to do any serious reaching or bending.

Not that he had much choice. The doctors had handled him roughly on the journey back to the hospital. They had explained nothing to him except the urgency of his immediate quarantine.

"I still don't understand," he complained. "What's this all about?"

"We're decontaminating," said the doctor through her mask. "You should have told us Bitch Helga was experimenting on you."

With their suits still on, the doctors in white latex lathered each other thoroughly, giving intimate attention to every curve and crevice of their bodysuits, making sure that each part of the suits were sanitized and free of faults. As he watched, Adam had to admire their attention to detail—and the tailor who had made the suits so functional yet so flattering.

Then the doctors turned the same attention to him, unsatisfied that he could perform such a demanding task for himself. They were particularly concerned with the parts of his body that were likely to secrete moisture, inspecting those regions of his bodysuit carefully for punctures or tears which might put them at risk.

They lathered. They rinsed. They repeated.

They toweled off each other, then him. After a while, he suspected they were enjoying the activity, but through their masks, he couldn't tell.

When they were dry, the women stripped to the nude in front of him. The women were even more beautiful when unclothed, although they looked a bit sweaty from the activity.

They instructed him to leave his gas mask and suit on.

They led him back to his hospital room and locked him inside. An orderly brought him lunch, but she instructed him not to remove his mask to eat it until after she had left room.

Two hours passed with no explanation. Finally the orderly returned and asked him to accompany her. He asked if he could loosen the straps on his mask, only a little bit—but this only agitated her.

He was led to the lounge where he found Highmother and one of his doctors sitting around a coffee table and talking about him.

Highmother seemed a bit embarrassed.

"Please accept our apologies for the way you've been treated. Especially for the way I treated you. We were forced to place you in quarantine until we could assess the severity of your condition."

The doctor now wore a lab coat over a short leather minidress. Adam suspected she had been one of the latex doctors who had dragged Highmother away, but he hadn't seen their faces then, so he couldn't be certain. She stared at him angrily and pointed at the chair in which she intended him to sit. The moment he did, the doctor leveled an accusation at him.

"How long have you known that you're irresistible to women?"

Few men, if any, have ever been prepared for such a question. He stared back at her for several seconds before he realized she couldn't see his expression of disbelief through his mask.

"Me?"

"Don't be coy," said the doctor. "You are producing pheromones at thirty times the normal rate, and those pheromones are bonded to some kind of empathy-dampening agent that compels women to take advantage of you. You must have known this."

It was alarming to hear this out loud, yet he wasn't surprised. It confirmed a theory he'd had for some time.

"Eve said it was a side effect of being on the island."

"That doesn't explain the physical changes," insisted the doctor. "There's something in your blood we can't identify that's rewriting your DNA—toning your muscles, enhancing your anatomy."

Highmother added, "The island increases people's libido, but it's never caused the changes we've seen in you. To our knowledge, only Helga's 'boy toys' have ever had such symptoms."

The doctor continued, "Women around you are not just

aroused

. Those with a prolonged exposure have their desire to dominate stimulated until they're incapable of mercy. Considering where we found you, I can't explain how you're still alive."

At this point, Emily entered the room sleekly dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and a miniskirt. She carried a mass of papers which she dramatically plopped onto the table.

"Here's the intel we have on the boy toy serum." When Emily realized who it was behind the mask and latex, she smiled and twirled her hair like a school girl. "Hello, Adam! Your hazmat suit flatters you!"

"Don't encourage him," warned the doctor with disgust. "You're still afflicted."

Emily pouted at the doctor before opening the file.

"After the fiasco with her boy toys, Helga continued her experiments. As far as we know, everyone who took the serum . . ." She paused and looked at Adam. "Are you sure we want him to hear this?"

"He has the right to know everything," insisted Highmother.

She continued more cautiously.

"Everyone who took the serum . . . died. Not from the serum. From abuse. At the hands of others. Most in kinky sex play engineered by Helga herself, suggesting that she's not immune to the influence of her own tests."

"The boy toys?" asked Highmother.

"They were the first, but not the last," said Emily. "She kept some of her victims isolated so that she couldn't be tempted to abuse them, but in her absence, they each went insane."

"That proves my theory," said the doctor. "Adam is insane."

"I think I want a second opinion," said Adam. "And I'm

not

a test subject."

"Clearly, he is," insisted the doctor. "Nothing else can explain such changes in his anatomy. His cock is enormous."

Emily giggled, but a glare from the doctor quickly silenced her.

The glare turned toward Adam. "When did you first notice the physical change?"

"Almost right away," admitted Adam. "Eve said it was nothing to worry about."

"She would," said the doctor with disgust. "Are you sure Bitch Helga never injected you with anything while you were on the island?"

"Not on the island, no."

"According to the intel," added Emily, "Helga was also working on a topical solution."

"How about it?" demanded the doctor. "Did she put any creams or lotions on you?"

"Actually," said Adam with some reflection, "there was a lot of that. It was kind of a regular thing."

"If he is a test subject, it might explain Helga's interest in him," said Emily. "She was trying to engineer a perfect slave, and she may regard Adam as her first successful test."

"But he's

not

the perfect slave," said Highmother. "He resists being dominated, even by me."

"That is puzzling," said the doctor. "Are we sure he's really a submissive?"

Emily interrupted, "He enjoyed being dominated by

me."

"That means nothing," said Highmother, "if he's insane."

"I just

said

that he was," insisted the doctor. "Why does no one listen?"

"ENOUGH!"

Everyone in the room was startled into silence.

None of them had ever heard Adam shout before.

Even he was surprised.

In a much calmer voice, he continued. "In the last few months I've met the most dangerous women I've ever known and been humbled in ways I've never imagined."

Adam paused to make sure they were listening. They were.

"I've been cuffed, gagged, stripped, fondled, shipped, drugged, boxed, dangled and fucked, so I'm

not

the man I was. How could I be? But I'm not answering any more questions about how big my dick has been or how submissive I'm supposed to be. None of these questions are important. Not to me. Not anymore. All the women who want to control me are getting in the way of what I have to do."

He waited for someone to challenge him. No one did.

"I'm going to find Eve," he said. "Whether you help or not, I'm going to rescue my mistress."

When no one responded, Adam was sure that he had said too much.

"That's it!" said Emily in a flash of inspiration.

The other two women looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"I finally understand what makes Adam different from Helga's other test subjects," she said, "and why Adam stayed sane while the others went mad. We should have seen it before! The boy toys weren't in mutually caring relationships, so they could never satisfy their urges. They had no positive outlet for the impulses they were having.

They weren't in love!"

The doctor gave her a long skeptical stare. "Your theory, Agent Emily, is unscientific and stupid."

"Adam has made his point, however," said Highmother. "The purpose of this meeting was to determine how best to deal with his condition. Do we continue to keep him in a containment suit?"

"The influence of his pheromones will probably wear off with time," said the doctor, "but he's still a threat. He must continue to wear the suit and gas mask while in the presence of others, and he must only eat and bathe while alone."

Adam did not like it, but he did not object.

"Then it shall be so," said Highmother, rising. "We have much to do before this afternoon's mission briefing. Adam, I want you to work with Emily. Answer all of her questions about the Citadel. We will need maps that include every detail you can recall."

"I'll help any way I can," said Adam. "We should expect the unexpected when we get to the island."

Again, Highmother and Emily exchanged glances. "Adam," she said with some reluctance, "you have to understand, we can't allow you to go back to the island."

"What? You can't leave me behind!"

"Your determination is admirable, but you are too important to our cause. You've not had the proper training—or had time to recover from your ordeal with the Countess. There is also your condition to consider. I forbid you to go."

Adam did not think he could change her mind but did not consider the matter closed. Instead he reluctantly agreed to Highmother's wish and resolved to pursue the matter later.

The plan, as explained in brief by Emily, was for a covert team to infiltrate the island and shut down its automatic defense grid. It sounded plausible, but Emily was hesitant to explain the details, saying it would all be made clear at the mission briefing.

After more than two hours of discussion about the minutia of Citadel layout and security, Adam and Emily produced a modest collection of notes, maps and diagrams. Emily digitized all of this information and disseminated it among the covert team members who had been training for the mission.

Late that afternoon, they were summoned to a meeting to introduce Adam to the rest of the team. Adam and Emily walked to the meeting room, and on the way, Emily asked what seemed at first to be a rhetorical question.

"Are you familiar with the work of Della Tiara?"

Adam, like most people, knew her name well. It was a name that called to mind glamorous images from magazine covers and billboards all over the country.

"The supermodel Della Tiara?" he asked, not understanding where the question was leading. "The woman the tabloids are calling the next Heidi Klum?"

"Yeah, the spokeswoman for Glamour Girl Cosmetics and all those other products. It might interest you to know that she's one of the newest recruits to teach at the Academy's Domination School."

"She's a glamour model

and

a dominatrix? That's not her image at all."

"Yeah, well, she was spotted at some of the more exclusive fetish clubs in L.A. When the Academy got word of it, they started to recruit her aggressively."

"Why does the Academy want to recruit someone so high-profile?"

"They think she can help recruit others. They need more slaves, and someone like her has a lot of contacts. Imagine what kind of mail a supermodel gets. Hundreds of lonely guys write to her and will agree to do anything she asks if she'll just give them some attention. So she invites them out to the island, pretends to be interested, and gets them to sign a slave contract. When she has the signature, she signs the contract over to Mistress Kathy and collects a commission."

"Holy shit. She's doing that?"

"Not yet. Like I said, she's a recruit, and our intel says she starts her new job at the Academy this week."

"That's pretty evil. But what does that have to do with us?"

"We think she would be valuable to us as a double agent."

Adam whistled out loud. "Is she on our side?"

"We've attempted to recruit her into our Sisterhood (for a lot of the same reasons the Academy has), but she knows we're competing with the Academy for her loyalty, so she's been . . . Let's say

demanding.

Still, Highmother has agreed to meet her demands if she can come through for us, and we've been attempting to finalize our arrangement with her. Our plan for getting on the island unnoticed would depend on her cooperation, and that would involve some risk on her part."

Emily led Adam into a building which seemed designed to impress visitors. There was a lobby where a young woman in a blazer told them they were expected.

"The rest of the team is waiting to meet you," said Emily. "Don't be nervous."

His skintight latex did not inspire self-confidence, but he tried to relax as Emily led him toward the meeting room.

Adam asked, "Do you really think a celebrity like Della Tiara will take such a risk for us?"

"We're about to find out," said Emily. "She's in the next room."

Emily swung open the door beyond which Adam saw Highmother chatting with one of the most recognizable women on earth lounging comfortably on a loveseat. He was glad that his gas mask hid his surprise.

Della Tiara was also surprised. "Is that him?" she asked. "Is this the miracle boy you've been telling me about? If he escaped the island dressed like that, I'm impressed!"

"He wore less," said Highmother grinning. "He was entirely naked when they found him."

"I'm sorry I missed that." She rose to her feet and offered her hand. "Della Tiara."

"Adam," he said, shaking her hand. Feeling like an idiot, he added, "I'm familiar with your work."

"Most men are," she said without a hint of irony. Her confidence would have been off putting if Adam hadn't been so awed by her celebrity status.

"This is Agent Emily," continued Highmother. "She'll be working with you on the island."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Tiara," said Emily.

"Perky," said Della Tiara. "I like her." The supermodel's beauty was as impressive in person as it had been on billboards and television. She made herself comfortable on a stool at the wet bar where a drink had already been prepared for her.

There were two other women in the room who were familiar to him. They were introduced as Agents Jamie and Jackie. Adam remembered Jamie from the helicopter, but he could not remember where he had met Jackie before.

"Tell me about this dangerous plan of yours," said Della Tiara.

Highmother tapped a button on a laptop which caused a map to appear on a wide screen. It was a map of the Citadel which Adam had sketched out only an hour or so earlier. This began a lengthy audio visual presentation which laid out the details of the island's security—details which Adam already knew.

"The foundation of our plan is this," explained Highmother. "We propose that when you report to your new duties at the Academy, Ms. Tiara, you will bring your own personal slave with you. There is some precedent for this, is there not?"

"It's been known," said the model.

"That slave will be one of our own people—Agent Emily. Once you're inside the Citadel, you can give her access to one of Mistress Helga's computers. She will download a program which will disable the island's automated defense system, allowing our invasion force to storm the Citadel from the beach."

"You said that the Academy is already familiar with your agents," recalled Della Tiara. "Isn't that why you need my help? Your spy will be recognized."

"No, she won't—because Emily will be a latex slave. We have devised a slave contract for you which explicitly states that she must wear a mask and a rubber suit at all times and that only you, her mistress, will be allowed to see her face. Such an arrangement is unusual, but not unreasonable among extreme fetishists such as yourself. No one will recognize Emily because, by contractual obligation to you, she'll be masked."

"Plausible," said Della Tiara. "But she'll have to be convincing. Is she willing to perform the functions of my personal slave? I won't make it pleasant for her."

"She has proven herself to be extremely pliable—and effective—in a variety of roles," assured Highmother.

"I see," said the model. As if looking for defects, she looked at Agent Emily's athletic figure judiciously. She gently tugged the hem of the blonde's turtleneck and asked, "Would you mind?"

"Not at all," said Emily. The blonde pulled off her sweater and dropped her miniskirt. Attired only in boots and a thong, she posed for the supermodel with a confidence that almost matched the model's own.

"Not to put too fine a point on this, but I want to be perfectly clear," said the model, looking her over. "Once on the island, I will abuse her. I will humiliate her and take advantage of her in ways she won't be expecting. If I don't, the Academy will be suspicious. Is that going to be a problem for her?"

Agent Emily stepped forward and put an arm on Della Tiara's shoulder. "Would you like me to demonstrate?" She placed a thumb inside the lining of her thong as if waiting for the model's next instruction.

The supermodel smiled as she considered the offer. "Perky

and

committed. I knew I liked her."

Adam's latex ached.

Gently, the supermodel pushed Emily away. "No need to demonstrate. Not just

yet."

"We've taken every precaution for your safety, Ms. Tiara," said Highmother. "If your cover story is exposed or something else goes wrong, just activate the emergency transmitter we've given you, and we'll have an extraction team meet you at the rendezvous point to bring you to safety."

"But if we fail," noted Della Tiara, "your extraction team won't be able to get through the automatic defense thingy around the island."

"We've acquired one craft—

only

one—with the necessary recognition software to penetrate the perimeter," said Highmother. She touched a key on her keyboard, and the image of a small, fast boat appeared on the screen. "By itself, it's not adequate for an invasion force, but it's more than enough for a rescue team."

"That's the boat Eve and I used to escape the island!" said Adam. "I sold that on Craig's List!"

"You sold it to me," said Agent Jackie, and Adam suddenly realized where they had met before. "When we saw your ad, we knew we had to act quickly before the Academy reclaimed its boat."

"One more thing for which we are in your debt, Adam," said Highmother. "In time, we may be able to duplicate the boat's recognition software, but that would take valuable time. With Ms. Tiara's help, we can act without delay."

Now that the details of the invasion plan had been fully laid out, everyone looked at Della Tiara to see if she would agree. Much depended on what she would say next.

"By your own admission," she said, retrieving her drink from the bar, "this plan is dangerous."

"Nothing worthwhile is without risk," said Highmother.