Interviews in a Bdsm Resort

Interviews in a BDSM Resort

Thank you for opening my story. I hope you enjoy it and think it worth giving a rating, and if possible, a comment. Like many contributors to this site, I find readers' reactions helpful in deciding what to write next, and what to include in my stories.

This is the third volume in the "Interviews" tetralogy, which was originally intended as a trilogy. It is not a serial. Each volume can be enjoyed on its own, so please don't be deterred if you have not read the first two. If you enjoy this one, you can go back to

Interview with a Slavegirl

and

Interviews in a Slave Trader's Liar

at your leisure. To those who have already read them, I am very grateful for your patience and persistence!

Chapter One - The Representative

"At some point in their lives, many dominants experience a kind of impostor syndrome. They look at their slaves, or the slaves they use, and imagine themselves in their places. They see them living a life with no worries about money, no responsibilities to clients or employers, no trying to understand complex laws and regulations, lots of good food and drink, unlimited medical attention with no waiting, and all the sex they can possibly want.

"Above all, they see slaves as having no choices to make. They do what's required of them, and they live happy, fulfilled lives. If they don't do what's required of them, they are whipped until they do. What could be simpler than that?"

The rep sat back, looking self-satisfied, almost challenging Sally to find fault with his argument. She hesitated, pretending to be distracted by the mouth under her skirt, lapping gently at her pussy. Slavegirl Shaba was kneeling between her legs, wrists locked behind her back. The rep, his trousers around his ankles, was receiving a similar service from Mina, while Millie was standing by to offer drinks, snacks and any further sexual services that might be called for. It was extravagant of Sally to deploy all her resources for a single interview, but she thought that much might come of it.

"It can't be quite as simple as that," she replied at last. "I can see the appeal of a place that offers a trial period in slavery. I expect that owners learn a lot about how their slaves really feel about their servitude. It must help them to get the best out of their property. Can't they get the same kind of experience from clubs, which give them what they want, when they want it, for a modest subscription?"

"Clubs are often recruiting systems. People join and think they can be part-master, part-slave, and end up being wholly the latter, or that's what they think will happen. We guarantee an experience that will last an agreed length of time, and then the client is freed, unharmed and uncompromised. It's like a cruise, or an all-inclusive holiday."

"Can the clients leave part-way through, if they're unhappy?"

"No. What distinguishes our offering is that it's 100% genuine. For the agreed time, the clients are slaves. They are not pretending to be slaves, and we are not pretending to enslave them. They are slaves. Then they are free again. We do discuss their requirements with them beforehand, and we have very few dissatisfied customers. Occasionally, one decides to volunteer herself, or himself, for permanent slavery. Then there's no guarantee that it their lives will resemble our offerings. We are, in a sense, selling holidays."

"Tell me more about what you offer."

"We hope we can accommodate almost any requirement. The simplest packages are for a week or a fortnight. The client is used as a sex-slave in a purpose-built apartment, by specially trained slaves that we call 'submasters' and 'submistresses,' who are also chained in their places. It's a very rich and intense experience, and to avoid misunderstandings the client is rendered dumb for the duration. We can also offer short or long stays in the pony stables, and almost any kind of labour slavery. You might be surprised to hear that anyone would volunteer to spend a fortnight digging ditches, toiling under the lash."

"Different strokes for different folks," replied Sally, for want of anything more original. "Are you happy with what Mina's doing for you?"

"Very, thank you. When I'm staying at the resort I'm often fellated by clients, and they can be very clumsy. This one's good enough to be classified as an oral slave."

"Yes, but I need her for other things too. Can a client be, say, a hucow for a week?"

"The hucow sheds are popular, but not for just a week. It takes time to get the milk flowing, and it's not worth it for so short a time. We offer stays of not less than three months. We keep a very few hucows of our own, and a handful of hu-bulls. They can cover ponygirls too. We aren't breeding pedigree animals, or breeding at all, for that matter."

"How can an estate be large enough to do all this, and still be completely secret from the general public?"

"It's on an island, and I'm sure you don't expect me to tell you where. It's very well fenced and has lots of sensors to detect and deter intruders, but our best defence is rumour. The place was a research laboratory during the Cold War. As far as the public's concerned, it's contaminated with nerve gasses and other deadly chemicals. The only bridge has a very private and concealed entrance, so no-one is ever seen coming or going. We use a lot of the military buildings. They are perfectly harmless."

At this point, while Sally thought about her next question, he stroked Mina's head; the signal that he wanted to cum in the near future. The bobbing head increased its speed and the depth of its movements, and the lips gripped his shaft more tightly. Seeing that, Sally patted Shaba's head, and breathed more deeply as her tongue touched her clitoris. Before she could ask him anything, the rep spoke again.

"Our service is popular, mainly with wealthy clients," he went on. "Usually, we have about two-thirds occupancy in the high season, and about fifty in winter. We do have a lot of indoor facilities, even for the human ponies. We'd like to increase that, and we think that some discreet internet coverage on the most private subscription websites would help to do that."

"So you'd like to engage my services as an influencer?" asked Sally. "Will you let me visit the resort?"

"We'll do more than that. We'll give you a complimentary week in one of our apartments; the full enslavement experience. And you can come a couple of days early to sample the rest of our facilities. We'll see to your transport, there and back. Obviously, we need to see what you film and write about us. That isn't to censor your opinions; if you think we're rubbish you can say so. It's to make sure that you don't inadvertently give anything away."

Sally was surprised to be made so generous an offer, but the thought of being a slave for a week was daunting. Did it mean that she'd be whipped? "Do I get to discuss my requirements in advance?" she asked, trying not to sound too doubtful.

"Of course." He was breathing very heavily now, as his orgasm was not far off. "You'll be treated like any other client."

There was a break, then, as he spurted his seed into Mina's mouth and throat, and she worked to suck out and swallow every last drop. Sally also came, clutching Shaba's head against her groin and trying not to shout out loud, as her guest was making virtually no sound at all.

Finally he spoke again. "Let me give you a bit of advice. Keep your requirements to an absolute minimum. We don't allow scat anyway, or really sadistic torture, or anything that leaves permanent marks. But the point is, that there's no point in being a slave if you're going to be made to do exactly what you'd have done anyway. Our sub-slaves are very good at detecting our clients' boundaries and pushing them just a little bit further. It's best to trust them to do their jobs."

"Is this offer good for a specific time. Are you offering me a last-minute cancellation? It's late spring now, you must be almost booked up."

"We'll try to fit you in when it's convenient for you. But we do have a vacancy for a week starting a fortnight on Friday. If you join us on Wednesday, you'll have plenty of time to look around first. Do be aware that you won't be allowed to wander around free. You can go where you want, but you'll always be escorted and controlled."

Sally decided not to ask what "controlled" meant, exactly. The dates suited her very well, and it was inconceivable that the journalist in her would refuse the offer. The rep left her with the promise that more information would follow almost immediately. She found herself feeling very nervous in the hours that followed, often hugging her slaves for reassurance. They seemed very dubious about her decision, but perhaps that had something to do with the fact that they would be left at the disposal of James, their official owner and her employer. He had eccentric ideas about master-slave relationships, which tended to involve whippings inflicted at random.

Chapter Two - The Laboratory

Whenever Sally felt worried or stressed, she looked around her laboratory and counted her blessings. It was a large space in an old warehouse. One quarter was occupied by a metal-framed four poster with built in chains. Another housed a comfortable suite that included two large sofas, with anchor points hidden under the upholstery. The remaining half was more utilitarian, housing all manner of BDSM equipment, including some items that were not designed to produce sexual pleasure, such as a rack.

The cost was offset by sales, for Sally's employer imported and supplied bondage furniture and equipment, and her experiments were videoed and used for advertising. It was a valuable side-hustle, but most of the costs were covered by research grants. James had secured a princely sum to underwrite a project that he had entitled

Mammalian Responses to Variable Stimuli during the Breeding Process

. It was easy to assume that it was something to do with farm animals. Somewhere, someone was working on that, but it was not Sally's field.

Few people were able to delve deeper into James' sub-agendas and trace all the funding that financed them. Sally's own project was so secret that it did not have an official title, but it might have been

Bondage as a Stimulus in Human Sexual Behaviour

. By "bondage," however, neither James nor Sally meant occasional games played by couples with furry handcuffs. They meant ropes, armbinders, manacles, chains and padlocks, supplemented by gags, blindfolds, and any other devices that human ingenuity had produced.

Sally's laboratory occupied the southern end of an old and restored warehouse, and there were no windows at ground level. The middle third was still used as a warehouse, and the northern end had been converted to make a new home for James, who had previously lived nearly a mile away. The cellar was continuous from one end to the other, and he had provided a very simple electric tramway to transport both the free residents and the slaves between his residence and the laboratory. That avoided any exposure to the elements, and also to the labour-slaves who worked in the warehouse.

Sally had only one slave who was available for her use almost all the time. Millie had been obtained from a trader who had donated half her value as his contribution to her research. She was in her thirties but looked much younger, and was a second-hand pleasure slave of exceptional abilities. She was also talkative, witty and not a little cheeky, which her previous owners had tolerated but had helped to motivate the trader to avoid including her in one of his auctions.

Her first and only owner had been a syndicate, and although with Sally it was love at first sight, she had mixed feelings about being donated to the laboratory as an experimental animal. Not understanding what the project was about, she took it to be the end of her career as a pleasure slave. Sally had tried to reassure her by letting her use her skills on visitors, and she often spent the nights with her. They were well-matched for height, so she was exceptionally good in a "69", even when spread out in a rigid "X", as she often was in Sally's bed.

Sally used the "X" position a lot with the other two slaves, when she had them at their disposal. She had instruments that measured the intensity and length of orgasms, and a friend had provided her with algorithms to arrive at a total score for a series of either single or multiple climaxes. Her method was to tie one of them down rigidly, always using similar lengths of chain for the same slave, and ensuring that both, when underneath, were equally taut. For the experiments she used a board that had very thin, firm padding, so there was no need to allow slack for the pressure of another body.

The upper slave was then chained in the "69" position, but very loosely, both for security and to ensure that she could not reach the other's breasts or vulva with her hands. The pair were then left for an hour, and the instruments measured the orgasmic scores of both women. She always left them to finish an orgasm that was in progress at the end, but was still to decide whether to credit all the points that were added, as would be the case, for instance, in a game of rugby that exceeded the regulation eighty minutes.

The experiment was dependent on the slaves' cooperation, and although she could whip them if they failed to use their best efforts, she never touched them during the hour. She alternated them on top and underneath, and repeated the procedure every time she had them both to use, but she knew that measuring orgasms was not an exact science. Nor could she always ensure that the conditions were the same, or that the slaves were equally horny on every occasion. Her only solution was to do it over and over again- at least ten times in each position- in the hope that the average readings would give her an accurate picture.

The aim was, of course, to compare the orgasmic experience of tightly bound slaves with that of those whose restraints were minimal and purely functional. She was hoping to try many other positions, preferable with different slaves, and was willing to experiment on herself. She was still in the preliminary stages, but she was already sure that she could demonstrate a definite improvement resulting from bondage. Her first experiment would be complete by the time she took a break for her own experience, about which she felt increasingly excited.

She was also experimenting on Millie, as well as using her as her bedwarmer. She had a fucking machine that could be used in several positions, and she was letting it drive the slave to one orgasm, and then whipping her breasts lightly as she enjoyed the second, third and fourth climaxes. She had some "control" readings taken without using the lash, and now she was finding an improvement in intensity, but not in length. She had called in a friend of James, her employer, to build a whipping machine, with the intention of getting much more consistent and reliable results, but it would not be delivered until after her break.

Ultimately, Sally needed men, and therein lay a difficulty, as James was obsessively straight and disliked having male slaves on the premises. Her best hope was to find an alternative source; well-wishers who would lend her males for reasonable periods of time. She was doing her best to cultivate contacts who might be persuaded that it would be in their best interests to contribute to her research. So far, she had enjoyed only limited success.

Sally worked hard to complete her first experiments before her departure. Millie was experiencing a problem with sore breasts, so her bottom had to be used instead, and then the soles of her feet. That meant that there would be no presentable results until after her break, but the experiment would be much more complex, and the outcomes more useful. She was also doing some work towards other lines of enquiry, but without means of measuring the results. She was masturbating Millie in very different positions; hogtied, frogtied, in pillories, stocks, etc., and hanging upside down. It was light relief, but potentially valuable.

The first communication from the resort came only three days after she had seen the rep. the package included some pills and capsules, with instructions and an assurance that they had no known side-effects, were not addictive and included no narcotics. There was no detailed explanation of what they were, but Sally went ahead and took them. She was not told where the resort was, but was given an estimate of the journey time; nine hours. That told her she was going to Scotland, and probably to the isles, unless her transport was going to use a circuitous route to mislead her.

The second message was an email, two days before she was due to be collected, and gave her a time and a means of identifying the vehicle. It would be the tried and trusted motorhome with frosted windows, and she was advised to spend most of the journey sleeping in the fixed bed. She was allowed to take a few changes of indoor clothing; anything else would be provided. All toiletries- even toothbrushes- would be provided, and they seemed to know that she did not need prescription or proprietary medicines.

She spent the last two days before departure in her laboratory, never leaving even to see James. On the final morning Shabah and Mina were already with him, and she packed Millie off in the basement tramway to join them. She would probably appreciate a more restful week, despite the possibility of extra whippings. She had spent the past fortnight having sex, eating and sleeping, and the monotony was probably affecting the results from the instruments.

Chapter Three - Arrival

The journey would have been boring, but Sally was suffering from sleep debt and appreciated the chance to catch up. If the motorhome used a ferry she missed it, and she was surprised at how lush and green everything was. She wondered whether they were in Devon, Cornwall, or on the Isle of Wight, but doubted whether it would be possible to "hide" a substantial estate in those popular destinations. Then she remembered the landscapes in

The Wicker Man

, and returned to a Scottish Island as her best guess.

She was met by a very welcoming, friendly and handsome woman who was obviously free, and dressed in a blouse and a short skirt. She led Sally straight from the garage through a series of corridors- all carpeted with original works of art on the walls- to her guest apartment. They met no-one else, and the accommodation was luxurious, with a four-poster bed, thick carpets, a three-piece suite and another sofa, and

en suite

facilities that included a huge walk-in shower.

"You'll be attended throughout your stay in this suite," said her escort, who had not introduced herself. The door will be locked, but your slave will be able to call for it to be opened. She will just have to show that your wrists are locked or tied behind your back. You are free to roam the common areas of the resort, and to speak to any of the slaves or residents who have voices, but out of this room, you will always be restrained. I trust you understand the need for these precautions."

Sally didn't really understand, but did not intend to make difficulties for her hosts. "That's quite all right," she replied, "but am I allowed to take pictures or recordings?"

"Your assigned slave will do that for you, according to your instructions. We will check the footage before you take your recorder away. Your slave is called Mitha, although you can call her anything you like. She's general purpose, but you'll find her good at almost everything. She has a strengthened tongue: a little bird told us that you liked that. She will serve you your meals here. We don't have a communal dining room for the guests. Mitha is also cleared to administer injections and other simple medical treatments. Here she is now, so I'll leave you in her capable hands."