Mistress Kathys Wicked Protege Ch 05

A private yacht was moored at a private dock on a private beach at the westward end of a very private estate. Nearby an expensive car reached the end of the private road and pulled into a lot facing the dock. A rear door opened, and one of the world's most recognizable women stepped out to have a look.

Della Tiara swept back her perfect curls, revealing smooth shoulders adorned only with the string that supported her designer sundress. "Get my things," she said, adjusting her sunglasses. "Don't make it look like I have to wait for you. Remember you're my slave."

Adam stepped out of the air-conditioned car and immediately noticed how warm it was. He was wearing a modified version of the "hazmat suit" he had worn at Oasis, but this form-fitting latex suit was a shiny black color and had been decorated with buckles and metal rings in strategic locations to make restraining him more convenient for his mistress. The suit had been specifically redesigned for discipline, not comfort, and made no allowance for summer heat.

Despite the temperature, the suit felt more comfortable than the one he'd worn the day before.

Am I getting used to the latex suits?

he wondered.

Or is my DNA just rewriting itself to adapt to the new situation?

There was a lot he didn't understand about the changes happening inside him. It seemed that his skin was creating a natural lubricant to make the latex feel more like a part of his body. He had never fantasized about wearing latex before, but now it seemed he was being reprogrammed to like it.

One more thing I can't control,

he thought.

Add it to the list.

"Do you always travel with this much stuff?" Adam asked as he opened the trunk and pulled out the collapsible cart he needed to convey her luggage.

"Some of it's yours," she said. "I packed some latex goodies for you. And a toothbrush, I think."

"And the transmitter?"

"Don't worry. If you give us away, I'll be ready to summon Emily and her extraction team at a moment's notice."

By now, Della Tiara's arrogance had chipped away most of the star appeal that had so impressed Adam the day before. He stacked her luggage onto the cart and followed her onto the dock.

"They're watching us," said Della Tiara. "It just occurred to me that I'm supposed to be your mistress and I haven't even seen you naked. When I get the chance, I should correct that—to make our performance more authentic."

"Don't," warned Adam. "Remember my condition. No disrobing and no touching. Doctor's orders."

"Fine," she said, placing her hand on his ass. "I'll settle for shameless groping."

As Adam pushed the heavily laden cart toward the gangplank, female voices and festive music could be heard from the ship. Standing in the gangway, Mistress Kathy, attired in a casual cotton sundress, smiled imperiously down at them.

"Welcome aboard the

Lady Charon

," she said warmly. "I would have sent someone down to get your bags, but it's far more appropriate to have your personal slave do it. Our rented slaves have to be fully restrained while in transit, and our personal slaves aren't allowed to leave the island with us. You understand why."

"Of course," said Della Tiara. "And my slave understands that

his

trip will be one-way."

"He's very fit, from what I can see of him. What's his name?"

"I've been calling him Rubberboy, so that's his name from now on. He's not allowed to speak—or show his face—to anyone but me."

"You have his slave contract with you?"

"Of course! I know how you are about contracts."

"Then we're off to a good start. I'll show you to your cabin."

As Adam crossed the threshold and stepped aboard the

Lady Charon

, he saw posted on a cabin door a yellow caution sign featuring a pair of stick-figure icons. It looked perfectly ordinary until he saw it up close:

CAUTION — BITCHES PLAYING

The boy icon was on his knees as the girl icon whipped him.

Adam pushed Della Tiara's luggage across the deck, down a narrow corridor and into her cabin. On his way there, he caught the attention of other mistresses who were wandering about the corridor in swimming attire as if they were on a luxury cruise.

"It's fortunate that you have a slave with you," explained Kathy when Adam was done with the luggage. "As the only unrestrained slave onboard, he can be put to work right away. Some of the girls are sunning themselves out on deck, and they can use a bartender who can make drinks and take abuse. You don't mind sharing him for a while, do you?"

"Not at all," said Della Tiara. "How many people are onboard?"

"We have twenty-one mistresses above deck and a dozen slaves stored below. Oh, and a pony girl in a box."

Adam's heart jumped as he realized Eve was on this very boat. He wanted to find his mistress immediately and rescue her, but he could not leave Della Tiara's side without jeopardizing the mission.

"In a box?" laughed Della Tiara. "My goodness! What did she do to earn that?"

Kathy smiled conspiratorially at her guest. "

She

knows what she did. Her accomplice is still at large."

"You said none of your toys

ever

escaped."

"Someone got careless with that one, but the customer that let him loose has been removed from our preferred clients list. The runaway will be back in our care soon enough. The woman I have on the case is highly motivated to find him. I'm about to check in on her."

Mistress Kathy knocked on a cabin door and opened it.

"Mistress Della, meet Mistress Monica."

Adam's mental state bordered on panic as he saw his ex-girlfriend typing on a laptop, diligently working on his capture. His unease was multiplied by the realization that it was

his

laptop she was typing on. He'd left his computer in the hotel room the night of his capture, and now all of its secrets were being laid bare to her.

"How's the hunt going?" asked Kathy.

"Groovy," said Monica. "I've been in touch with the Countess's head of security, and it seems there's quite a to-do happening in the Royal Dominance Assembly. The Countess is pissed at Lady Tara for inviting a spy into their club."

"Define

pissed."

"Lady Tara's in her custody and is held for questioning, but her chief of security doubts she'll survive the interrogation since the Countess is doing it herself."

"That should make Assembly politics interesting for a while," said Kathy. "Have they learned who the spy is working for?"

"Not yet."

"If Tara lives, we'll

also

want to question her. In the meantime, keep working on the laptop. There must be some personal information in his computer to compromise him."

Mistress Kathy led Della Tiara and Adam to the forward deck where most of the dommes were in their bikinis sunbathing. Kathy couldn't wait to make introductions.

"Our newest recruit to the domination school is someone you are all familiar with!" she proudly announced. "Please join me in welcoming the world-famous Della Tiara to our staff!"

There was generous clapping, whooping and cheering from the girls on deck.

"And for your entertainment, she's letting us have access to her charmingly quiet latex slave, Rubberboy." This prompted a louder, more sinister chorus of cheers and growls from the appreciative girls. "His mistress doesn't allow him to speak or to show his face, so out of respect for our newest recruit, please restrain from ripping his suit off."

"What about spanking?" someone shouted.

"Spanking, groping, whipping, restraining, suspending by his ankles—all allowable under the terms of his contract, so that should keep him well-motivated."

"What about

fucking?

" someone screamed, prompting some laughs. Della Tiara laughed with them.

"Don't damage the poor thing," said Kathy. "If you do, Mistress Della may regret sharing her shiny toy with us."

Adam hoped that Della Tiara would stay close enough to keep an eye on the unruly women, but he was quickly disappointed.

"She and I have some business to discuss below," said Kathy, "so be good girls and enjoy the Rubberboy as he attempts to please you—without breaking him please."

With that, Adam was left to fend for himself, and he couldn't say a word without risking that his voice might be recognized by one of the dommes. The bikini-clad women immediately demanded drinks and snacks to be delivered to the reclining deck chairs where they lounged.

Not being able to speak meant he couldn't ask his patrons to repeat themselves if he didn't understand an order, nor could he provide any excuse when he made a mistake. He made many—which delighted the sunbathers. For each mistake, the women demanded some kind of penance, usually taking the form of a spanking, groping or squeezing of some part of him, and usually when his hand were full, preventing any kind of protest or resistance.

It didn't take long before they were making games out of him. Their drink orders got progressively more confusing. When he was away, they would swap chairs (or towels, or swimwear) with each other in order to confuse him further.

Soon Adam began to fear for his safety. If the unruly women chose to undo any part of his latex suit, the situation would quickly escalate out of anyone's control.

Strangely this did not happen. Mistress Kathy had forbidden such contact, and the dommes feared their headmistress enough to respect the boundaries she had laid out for them.

As the day wore on, the tropical heat began to wear heavily on him. The cramped area behind the bar began to fill up with empty bottles, so he looked for a storage room where he could stash them on the starboard deck.

A terrifyingly familiar voice behind him said, "Hello, handsome."

He turned. He had never seen Helga in a bikini before.

The terribly small bits of spandex in her suit were outmatched by the curves they attempted to conceal. Her penetrating smile seemed to bore right through his mask.

He thought he had been discovered.

"How about a little service?" asked her wicked smile. "I know I should wait my turn, but I'm not very patient."

Not daring to speak, Adam gestured with the large box of bottles in his hands to indicate that he was in the middle of another task. As he did this, he thought how uncanny it was that this woman looked more intimidating in a swimsuit than when fully clothed.

"The others can wait," said Helga, placing her hands on his, urging him to set the box down. "I don't want anything demanding or complicated." He set the box on the deck. She moved closer, causing him to involuntarily step back.

Her smile never drifted from the lenses of his mask.

"I just want a hug."

She casually took his hands and placed them where she wanted them to go. Then she wrapped her own arms around his torso and slid her hands down his spine. How strange it seemed that he was now wrapped in latex and she was not. It seemed that she was attempting to wear

him

.

"Mmmmmm," she moaned.

"Not

a padded suit. It's all

you."

She licked the shiny latex around his neck and gripped him tighter.

Her embrace was both arousing and terrifying.

She sensed his reaction—and massaged it.

Adam endured powerful, competing impulses. This was no casual hug.

To stay in character, he hugged her back, returning her affection as an obedient slave should.

Her hand reached the zipper on the small of his back. She pulled it down to expose his ass.

Her bare hand pressed against his flesh.

This had gone farther than he could allow it to go. He tried to withdraw. She squeezed him tighter.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "If we're caught, they'll only punish

you

."

Where's Della?

wondered the part of him still in control.

She shouldn't allow this. The plan depends on her staying close.

Another part of him was glad Mistress Della was gone.

Whether by design or sheer chance, Della Tiara emerged above deck.

"Rubberboy!" she accused. "I can't leave you alone for a minute!" In fact, she had been gone for hours, but he dared not say anything.

"You'd best keep your eye on him when Helga's around," said Kathy, who had followed her out on deck. "She has a habit of flaunting our rules, and I can't seem to cure her of it."

When Helga let go, he immediately turned around and rezipped the back of his latex suit. Now would be the time, he thought, for Della Tiara to bring him inside to safety.

"He should know better than to strut around the deck with a hard on," said Della Tiara. "Rubberboy, I shall have to discipline you for being so promiscuous."

She led him to the center of the sunbathing area where a pole was mounted that served no nautical purpose. Della Tiara attached him to it with clasps that were already hanging from it.

"Since you enjoy yourself so much out here on deck, I think you will spend the night here. I'll make these clasps nice and tight so you can't wander away." She attached his arms to the pole behind his back, and attached another clasp to a D-ring on his hood to keep his head from moving.

"What are you doing?" he whispered so only she could hear. "This isn't funny."

"I'm following

your

rules," she whispered back. "If I can't touch you, then I can't share a cabin with you, can I? Your pheromones might get loose in the room or something, and that's a risk I shouldn't have to take."

Kathy provided additional straps which Della Tiara used to wrap around his ankles, knees, waist and arms, immobilizing him like a mummy while the pole kept his back rigid. When she was done, he could hardly move a muscle.

"Any more whining, and I'll have the crew hoist you over the front like a hood ornament," admonished Della Tiara loudly. "It wouldn't be very restful for you, but we'd all be amused."

"Nicely handled," complemented Kathy. "You'll do well as a mistress. Now let me show you some of the other amenities onboard."

Again, Della Tiara and Mistress Kathy left Adam alone on deck surrounded by dominant horny strangers, only this time he was tied and helpless as well.

Surprisingly, the women did not touch him except to give him an occasional pinch or slap on the ass as they passed. Although some women grumbled about having to get their own drinks, the dommes stayed within the limits of conduct laid out by Mistress Kathy—evidence of how much they feared her.

Helga, the exception to all rules, must have been busy elsewhere.

The sunbathing women did not ignore him, however. The dommes had left their own slaves back on the island days ago, and in their absence, a deep longing was overcoming them. His presence on deck—so accessible, yet forbidden—only increased the tension they felt deep inside.

As the sun sank low in the western sky, one of the women discarded her swimsuit.

By sunset, they all had.

They started to turn their affection toward each other as they lay naked on their towels, rubbing each other with oils and massaging each other with kisses.

They made no effort to conceal themselves from Adam. They wanted an audience. They wanted him to see what they were doing to each other. Their revenge for not allowing himself to be touched was to make him watch as they touched each other.

The word

orgy

came into his mind. Long ago, when he had first entertained the thought of attending the Academy, he had admitted to his mistress that he had wanted to be in an orgy. Now he was, but not as a participant.

He wished for the use of at least one hand.

The sun was down, but light was still in the sky when Della Tiara came out to check on him. She feigned disapproval and blamed him for what was happening all around him.

She shook a roll of yellow tape at him. "See the effect you have on these poor women?" she asked. "You should be ashamed of yourself. I don't think I want you watching this." She wrapped the tape around his head, including the pole, and completely covered the clear plastic lenses of his gas mask, entombing his head in darkness.

"That's much better. Have a good night, Rubberboy."

He didn't hear her voice again until the next morning.

He tried to concentrate on the sound of the waves, unsuccessfully.

He kept hearing other sounds nearby, gasping, panting, moaning, screaming.

None of the sounds were restful.

To be continued . . .