The Dutch Mistress

This story is a sequel to The Dutch Master. The narrator, having signed a one month slave contract to Gerd, his Master, finds himself sold to the beautiful red headed lifestyle dominatrix Arianne de Vries. This cruel and sadistic woman now intends to transport him back to The Netherlands on her yacht and make him her houseboy.

"Look boy, let's not make out that I need any sort of pretext to punish you." Arianne de Vries, the beautiful, tall redheaded Dutchwoman was hauling firmly on the leather strap. I felt the pressure increase as she fastened the final buckle that held my bruised and weary body spread across the leather topped punishment bench down in the dungeon beneath the Suffolk farmhouse that Gerd van Thijessen had caught me in the act of burgling just a few nights before. "I enjoy punishing you, it's as simple as that, it gives me a thrill like no other, it's something that I can't really explain." She announced this in quite a matter of fact manner, without a hint of self consciousness. "You have a good, sturdy body and it is capable of taking the punishments that I wish to impose upon you. I have put a proposition to Gerd, and he has accepted my offer, by next week you shall be my property. I fully intend to use you as my houseboy, and to apply the firm discipline that I think you need in your life to keep you on the straight and narrow."

I could not believe what Arianne now told me was going to be my future. We were only a few days into the month's contract that I had signed to serve Gerd and now it appeared that the two of them had put together some kind of deal to transfer me to the ownership of Arianne. "In the next day or so you will be shipped across to my house in The Netherlands. Once there you will serve me in whatever capacity I desire. I won't pretend that it will be an easy life, but it is the one that I have mapped out for you. I really feel that hard work combined with strict discipline is what you need to reform your character, and I intend to do that."

I was stunned at this latest piece of news. Arianne now sat in the chair before me, her beautiful long legs in her elegant black leather stiletto heeled boots crossed as she regarded my recumbent body strapped tightly over the punishment bench, awaiting whatever her devious, sadistic mind had in store for me. I considered this latest twist in the winding road of my future. "But how will you get me into The Netherlands? You don't have my passport."

A knowing smile played on her lips telling me that to a wealthy and resourceful woman this was a mere detail, and one that had already been resolved. "Oh we Dutch are a nation of sailors just like you. My yacht is moored up just along the coast at Southwold. I have been a regular visitor there for several years now so there will be no suspicion. it's barely more than a hundred kilometres across and my house has private moorings. Nobody looks for migrants heading in that direction."

So it appeared that it was now a fait accompli. Arianne continued. "You know of course that Gerd is a people smuggler? He does most of his business with wealthy people from the Middle East. He knew that I was looking for a young man to serve me in a domestic capacity. In fact he called me immediately upon your capture." I cast my mind back to before I had signed the contract. To think that I had the opportunity just to leave and I had not taken it. Then I looked at Arianne again. She was very beautiful and evidently an independently wealthy woman. Neither could I deny that serving her had given me a thrill, just as much it seemed as it had her. The sjambok beating had been the toughest challenge but I had survived it. The ordeal that it had provided had given me a considerable feeling of achievement, although at first I had been reluctant to admit it, submission did not come easily to me. Nevertheless the prospect of my future with this woman both excited and scared me in equal measure. I was forced to admit to myself that I was a little bit in love with the woman who now seemed destined to become my owner. Those fantasies I had entertained of traditional old style slavery were it seemed about to become a reality.

"But I thought Gerd was in the electronics business."

"Ah, yes. That is most a convenient cover isn't it? It means that he constantly has trucks going back and forth between the continent and the UK. Once the people he deals in are in the country it's very easy for his clients to fly their cargo out again. Most of them have private jets. He caters for this part of the market." She waved her hand at the dungeon and it's extensive array of equipment. "Sex slaves, that's what attracts the big money. You should be grateful to me really, you could easily have ended up in the ownership of a wealthy Arab, they are the very worst owners I can assure you." An inscrutable smile played briefly on her cruel lips.

"Anyway, I have a gorgeous thirteen metre ketch, it is moored up just a few kilometres away. She is a lovely boat, all polished brass and wood, built in the nineteen thirties for a wealthy businessman. We will sail in the morning, by tomorrow evening you will be installed as my houseboy. Your duties will be anything that either myself or my P.A. Sapphira asks of you. Gerd has supplied me with one of his special electric shock collars. Once that is fitted I am confident that you won't be wandering off."

Arianne got up from her chair and walked across to the wall rack that held the whips and canes. "I don't think your skin can take much more after receiving the punishment from the sjambok last night. I intend to go easy on you and just use the standard Dragon cane this evening." Once more she made the announcement as if she was doing me a great favour. She swished the cane through the air a few times in readiness for applying the weapon to my body. When it came I could tell that she was very skilfully avoiding the area that had been damaged the previous night by her forty strokes of the sjambok. The Dragon was a serious weapon in it's own right, but by comparison with the sjambok it was a mere toy. This time her aim was directed solely towards the area where the crease of the thighs joins the buttocks. It is an especially sensitive place capable of causing a lot of pain. Unusually I was left ungagged and my cries became louder as the strokes increased in intensity as she got into her rhythm, they seemed to spur her on to greater efforts. I was ordered to count the strokes and to thank my mistress after each batch of ten. I received four batches before being unstrapped from the punishment bench and returned to my cell.

The following morning Arianne brought my breakfast down to the prison cell. After I had eaten she returned and led me upstairs. A large timber crate stood on the floor in the hallway. I was fitted with the usual head harness with it's built in rubber gag and then the full heavy leather hood. Completely blind and guided by her I climbed carefully inside the crate which was then prepared for transport. Although it was quite large the timber packing case would only just accommodate my body, kneeling in a foetal position. I felt my collar being being fixed to a steel hasp in the timber floor of the case beneath me so that my neck was held tightly down My wrists were now secured behind my back inside the leather cuffs attached to the body belt that was part of the leather chest harness. Then the wooden lid was firmly nailed down for transit, the vibration of the nails being hammered in reverberating through my body. Shortly after this I felt the motion of the crate being lifted and carried before being put into what I assumed was a vehicle. The movement continued, an up and down motion told me that we were driving down the lane from Marsh Farm. Then things smoothed out as we reached metalled roads. After a while the movement ceased and once again there was the feeling of the crate being carried. There was a short delay before the low hum of an engine somewhere beneath me and a gentle floating feeling told me that we were now at sea.

I heard the sound of splintering wood as the top was prised off the packing case in which I was being transported. I felt my collar being released from the steel hasp that had held me tightly to the floor of the case. The leather hood was removed and I was helped out blinking into the bright daylight. We were now in the main saloon of the Wilhemina Oranje the luxurious nineteen thirties motor yacht that now made light of the sea crossing between Suffolk and The Netherlands. The cabin formed an intimate little retreat, luxuriously clad in satin lacquered mahogany redolent of the period in which she had been built. A row of small glazed windows looked out onto a calm blue sea, the shore still just about visible in the distance. Arianne de Vries sat at the glass topped coffee table in a low chair of pale blue cane, a glass clinking with ice in front of her.

The door to the wheelhouse opened and Sapphira Delatoise entered the saloon. She addressed Adrianne briefly in what sounded like French. Sapphira was a very beautiful brunette. Her long dark hair was gathered into a pony tail, tied back with a black hair band. She was dressed in blue denim jeans and a white cotton blouse, her dark grey sweater draped casually across her shoulders. I guessed that as there were only the two women on board that we were set on some sort of auto tiller. I remained on my knees beside the table that the two women now sat around. Arianne fetched Sapphira a drink. I surreptitiously studied the attractive features of the young French woman sitting before me. She was older than me, although still much younger than Arianne I guessed maybe she was in her late twenties. She took a sip from her drink and then quite deliberately placed her glass on the small of my back, my kneeling body being used to serve her as a table. It was an action that demonstrated perfectly exactly what our relationship was to be. I was aware that if I moved in any way the glass would tip, spilling her drink. I remained perfectly still, fearing that to cause this to happen would bring a harsh punishment either from my mistress or from her friend, possibly both.

The two women chatted in French for a bit before Sapphira returned to steer the boat. Arianne removed the glass from my back. "Well done boy, you managed to avoid spilling it, best not to get on the wrong side of Sapphira. She will have day to day responsibility for you as well as total control of you in my absence. She suffered some abuse from men as a young woman in her home country and at times her desire for retribution gets the better of her. If I know her you will do well if you manage to avoid the taste of her lash for very long, she enjoys putting men in their rightful place just as much as I do."

Arianne de Vries had recently had the Wilhelmina Oranje re engined with a modern marine diesel and she now made a comfortable ten knots on the calm sea. By the time the sun began to fall towards the horizon behind us we had arrived in the Dutch port of Rotterdam. We made our way up river towards the town of Utrecht where we moored up just after dusk. The large house had been built in the Dutch Colonial style, set on a raised bank well above the river that ensured that even in times of flood it remained above the water level. The white painted facade with it's third floor of dormers and it's matching white slatted shutter blinds looked out across a wide sweep of lawn to the moorings.

Arianne and Sapphira led the way from the boat, the former ordering me to carry their luggage that consisted of two larger suitcases. Once inside Sapphira led me to a room on the top floor where I was fitted with the wide leather collar that was both to signify my ownership by them. This device also contained the two metal terminals that made contact with my neck at either side and would serve to administer a very firm reminder by means of an electric shock should I wander too far from it's transmitter.

She pointed to the single bed. "You may have some sleep now. I shall explain your domestic duties in the morning. I am Ms de Vries housekeeper but it is you who will be responsible for maintaining the house in a satisfactory condition."

Sleep was coming less easily now, it had been almost a full week since I had sexual release and wearing the metal cock cage was becoming more and more of a problem as time passed. The early morning involuntary erections were especially difficult to handle now. I would awake with my penis pressing against the stainless steel frame of the cage, totally unable to do anything to relieve this extra torture that had been devised to frustrate a young, virile man such as me.

Of course Sapphira's description of herself as a housekeeper didn't fool me for one moment. It was clear that the two women were in fact lovers, something that the thought of did absolutely nothing to help me with the frustration whenever I imagined the two of them together in their bedroom. Images of the dark haired French woman, her lips caressing Arianne's firm mound as her tongue probed down towards her little pink fleshed slit refused to leave my head, causing my cock to swell until it filled the locked on steel cage painfully. I tried to drive these images back into the recesses of my mind, knowing deep down that they were part of the two women's armoury of torture implements. I was meeting with less and less success now though as my sexless period now approached a whole week.

Morning came and as I lay in the small single bed listening to the sounds emanating from the floor below I contemplated the say ahead, wondering exactly what it might hold for me. The small dormer window that let light into my room showed only a patch of grey sky, the hot weather of the past week seemed to be at an end now. Footsteps on the stairs eventually turned into the tall, elegant figure of Sapphira Delatoise framed in the doorway of my bedroom. She appeared much as she had the day before, dressed in figure hugging jeans and sweater, her long dark hair gathered into a ponytail that fell behind her. She crossed to the drawer of a pine dressing table and I heard the rattle of metal within as she opened it. "I bought these from the owner of an old chateau in the wild centre of France, they came to light when he was converting the dungeon, I have been so looking forward to having an opportunity to use them forbear intended purpose." She held in her hands a very old looking set of irons, the dark metal manacles and fetters all connected to a heavy collar by hand wrought chains. "Probably made about two centuries ago by the local village blacksmith, they still work just as well today." She gave me a sweet smile as she turned the old fashioned metal key in the lock of the collar before removing it. She then said these words. "Kneel by your bed boy, Mistress Arianne will be inspecting you in a few minutes."

I did as I was told and presently heard the distinctive sound of Arianne de Vries stiletto heeled boots on the stairs. She entered the room dressed in her black leather outfit. Sapphira handed her the irons. Arianne weighed them in her gloved hands for a moment or two, feeling the cold solidity of the antique iron. She removed my leather collar and slipped the key back into the lock of the iron one, opening the hinged restraint before slipping it around my neck. I felt It's heavy weight. Next my wrists were manacled in front of me before having the connecting chains fixed to the iron fetters that were in turn closed and locked firmly into place around my ankles. I was now completely chained, neck and all four limbs locked into antique iron restraints. The two women inspected me and smiled at each other. "I don't think he is going anywhere that we don't want him to do you Ms.Delatoise?"

I was left in my heavy restraints for a while as the two women returned downstairs. Then I heard what I assumed was Arianne returning, but it turned out to be Sapphira. The transformation that she had undergone was remarkable. In place of her jeans and sweater she now wore a black leather leotard style corset that shaped her body into a quite remarkable form, her breasts pushed up and seemingly enlarged by the tight leather of the form hugging bodice. The high cutaway sides seemed to enhance the length of her shapely legs, something that was further accentuated by her stiletto heeled knee boots. She looked down upon me, brandishing a black leather riding crop. " I think I am going to enjoy training this slave." While she addressed this remark to Arianne I had no doubt that the thinly veiled hint of menace in her voice was intended for me, it did not fail to find it's mark.