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Chapter 7: Bernice: Sunday

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When Melissa turned up at my suite door at eight o’clock last night, I was flabbergasted to see her so soon. I wasn’t expecting her for at least another 24 hours, if at all. Chloe may have delivered the punishment I dictated, but I’m guilty of demanding far too much. I allowed my frustration at being unable to solve the mystery of Melissa to boil over into a shameful act of spite. In other circumstances, I would apologize profusely, but a mistress must never show regret towards a slave she has had punished.

I suppose the least I can do is assign Melissa to light duties today. No chastity belt or steel collar for now. The wrist and ankle cuffs will suffice as tokens of her submission to me. Melissa makes breakfast as usual and apart from the occasional wince if she aggravates her sore arse or tits, she works normally.

“Do you despise me for having you punished yesterday, Melissa?” I ask.

“No, Madame. Not at all. You only did what you are entitled to do. I could have used my safe-word if I found the punishment was too much.”

“Given the severity of the punishment, that must make you some form of masochist. I don’t know many members of the Slave caste able to endure that level of punishment.”

“I’m not sure I would call myself a masochist, Madame. I don’t seek that kind of punishment, but I’ll endure it if I must. I knew I was to be a member of the Slave caste when I accepted my job here. I can hardly complain if you and others treat me as a slave.”

“And do you think you’ll stay here on the staff for any length of time?”

“I’ve no intention of quitting, if that’s what you mean, Madame,” replies Melissa.

“Not even after Chloe beat you so hard? It cannot be easy working for someone who is willing to deliver that level of punishment on her employee.”

“Madame Chloe and I are old school friends, Madame. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes. She and I understand each other’s boundaries.”

I mentally slap myself for overlooking that Melissa had admitted that she went to school with Chloe. I was too busy trying to link them romantically to consider their relationship was simply a continuation of a school friendship. Still, that doesn’t explain the depth of Melissa’s knowledge about La Chatte Heureuse. My intuition tells me the answer to that question will provide a wealth of information I can exploit. But Melissa has suffered enough for now, and I can be patient. Faye couldn’t discover the secret while she was here, so I’m not too disheartened. Perhaps Faye and I need to reconcile our differences and work together on this subject.

Natasha visits us mid-morning. She’s come fresh from practising her weightlifting in the Recreation building. The strong odour of her sweating body plays havoc with my nostrils. Melissa obviously notices the smell as well, but her reaction is different to mine. She seems drawn to the odour, while I feel repulsed.

“Can I borrow Melissa for half and hour?” asks Natasha. “The useless slave I hired to shower me fainted at the smell of my body.”

“Yeah! Sure,” I reply, wanting Natasha out of my suite as soon as possible. “That’s if Melissa can stomach the smell.”

“As long as she doesn’t faint, it’ll be fine. Come on Slave Melissa. Let’s see if your stomach is as hardy as your tits and arse.”

Melissa follows Natasha out of my suite and I promptly reach for the air freshener. I suspect Natasha likes having a slave shower her after a workout simply to enhance her reputation as a bad-ass around the club.

I settle down to catch up on some work while I’ve a spare moment.

Melissa returns about forty minutes later with sopping wet hair. At least her clothes are dry.

“Go and dry your hair before you wet something important,” I say as I admit Melissa into my suite. “How did you get your hair that wet?”

“Madame Natasha had me undress and get into the shower with her, Madame. It was easier to soap her body with me in the shower.”

“If I know Natasha, she expected more than a soaping and scrub down,” I reply.

“Um… yes, Madame. Before I started washing her, she had me perform certain acts in the shower.”

“Oh don’t go all coy on me, Melissa. If Natasha wanted you to fuck her, then say so and stop using mealy-mouth words.”

“Sorry, Madame. Madame Natasha required me to bury my face in her cunt and tongue her to an orgasm.”

“And did you enjoy the experience? Did you like sucking off a sweaty gorilla?”

“I didn’t mind the smell, Madame. It had its own special charisma.”

“You are one of a kind Melissa. I think you’ll go far in the club if you play your cards right.”

“What do you mean, Madame?”

“The Greenway House Partnership may own the resort, and have a majority stake in La Chatte Heureuse, but it’s the club rules that determine how members interact, and hence the success or otherwise of the resort’s lifestyle. As you observed when Raewyn and her hangers-on visited yesterday, members of the Mistress cast are each entitled to ten votes to the one vote given to Lady and Slave caste members. That’s as it should be given the substantial difference in membership fees. It also means that club rules are predominantly set by those in the Mistress caste.”

“I understand that, Madame, but I’m not sure how it relates to me.”

“Even within the Mistress caste there is a hierarchy. Those, like me, who are senior members of the caste, carry more influence than, say, sweet innocent Melody. A slave who knows which mistress to favour will bask in the reflected glow of her patron. Tessa owes much of her reputation around the club from her association with Faye. “

“Then I shall endeavour to find favour with the senior mistresses, Madame,” replies Melissa.

“Yes, but be careful who you choose to be your patrons. Some mistresses will try to take advantage of your position on the staff to influence the resort management.”

“I’m not sure what influence a general labour and gardener will bring to a mistress, Madame.”

“A general labourer and gardener you may be, but I warrant that you carry much more influence around here than meets the eye. Your friendship with Chloe gives you something to trade for a mistress’s favours. Use that wisely and you will benefit.”

“So if you were to require Madame Chloe’s support for your special event, it is something I could offer to influence in your favour. In exchange for… what, Madame?”

“Ah! You’re getting ahead of yourself, Melissa. But let’s assume your connection with Chloe is of value to me, then I could offer you treats like clothes or jewellery, or protection from an aggressive mistress.”

While Melissa initially seems tempted by my offer, I’m not convinced that her influence with management can be bought. I’ll need to find another way to bend Chloe towards my sphere of influence. I knew where I stood when Monique was in charge. Now I must keep probing to regain the influence I once enjoyed. My only consolation is that Faye seems to have been equally unsuccessful in regaining her former influence over management. Perhaps I need to target April rather than Chloe. She seems to be more accommodating and practically minded. Unfortunately, she isn’t very accessible.

Melissa uses my bathroom to dry her hair. I will have words with Natasha later about returning Melissa in better condition than this. I don’t doubt Natasha will want to borrow Melissa again given her willingness to worship Natasha’s sweaty body. There can’t be many slaves happy about burying their face in the stink of Natasha’s cunt after she’s been working out for a while.

While Melissa cleans herself up, I review my latest thoughts for my proposed special event. I have followed Melissa’s earlier advice and canvassed my intended guests to gauge the level of support. So far I’ve had a dozen responses to my suggestion that a week long themed ‘conference’ be held at the end of November. Only five have said a definite ‘yes’ with another three as ‘maybes’. Nineteen more haven’t responded at all, so I must presume they aren’t interested. It seems likely that I may need to extend the invitation to more club members… those I wish to seduce into my sphere of influence, or retain in my thrall. Given my unpromising start in drawing Chloe into my orbit, it becomes all the more important to hold the special event before Christmas. I need to demonstrate the breadth of my power base before Faye can do the same.

“You can kneel on the floor over here,” I say to Melissa when she emerges from the bathroom, sensing she still isn’t ready to sit on her brutalised arse.

Melissa kneels and waits patiently for further orders. Despite the evidence of the excessive punishment I ordered, she seems to hold no ill-will towards me. Nevertheless, I intend to be cautious when setting her duties. The last thing I need is for Melissa to take revenge on me by secretly sabotaging something important.

“What are you thinking at this moment, Melissa?” I ask as I sit down.

“I’m thinking that you seem unsure whether to trust me not to take revenge for yesterday’s punishment, Madame,” replies Melissa, almost as a challenge.

“That’s very perceptive of you, Melissa. Yes, I am wondering how you really feel about your session in the dungeon. Sixty stokes on your tits and arse are far more than most slaves can tolerate. Tessa is the only other slave I know who can match your endurance.”

“I deliberately disobeyed your order to divulge a secret I chose not to reveal, Madame. You were within your rights as a mistress to have me punished. Flogging with a paddle or whip are accepted forms of punishment on the island, so again you acted within the club rules. I confirmed that I would accept fifty strokes from Madame Chloe, and I could have used my safe-word if the extra ten strokes you ordered were too much. I chose not to do so, which means the state of my body is as much my own doing as anything you ordered. If I couldn’t tolerate the lifestyle here, then I would simply leave. Nobody is a prisoner on this island. We are all here by choice, and that means we can choose to leave if and when we wish.”

“Hmm. Fine words, but do you really mean them?” I ask.

“I do, Madame. But I’ve no means of proving it. You alone must decide whether to trust me, or not.”

I admire Melissa’s courage in challenging me in this way, but that isn’t how a slave in my thrall should behave in my presence. I would normally punish her for such audacity, but I feel a twinge of guilt for punishing her so severely yesterday. I decide to let her off from further reprimand… but only this time.

“My plans for the special event are coming unstuck. You were right about there being a lower level of interest than I initially thought. I will need to extend the invitation to more members to make the event worthwhile. But I’m unsure how to select those to invite.”

“Do you intend to limit invitations to the Mistress caste, Madame,” asks Melissa.

“No. I shall be inviting members from all three castes. My business clients aren’t limited to the Mistress caste. Seven of them are Ladies and two are Slave caste members.”

“The club’s special events are normally reserved for Mistress and Slave caste members, Madame.”

“Which is why I need to make additional provisions for hosting the event.”

“You could extend the invitations to allow each member attending to bring a guest, Madame,” muses Melissa. “The guest would need to be a club member, or apply to join. If you intend to allow Lady caste members to attend the event, then new members can join at a modest cost, and the club’s vetting process is much quicker for prospective Lady caste members.”

“Yes. That is a possibility. I can also ask Chloe to authorise a discount on the joining fee for those attending the event.”

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Chapter 8: Melissa: Monday

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I’m diverted from another tedious morning of serving coffee and tea to another group of Madame Bernice’s guests by a ‘may I borrow Melissa?’ request from Madame Natasha. Even though I know what this task will entail, I’m pleased when Madame Bernice approves the request. I promptly follow Madame Natasha into the small gymnasium at the rear of the Recreation building, E5.

“Have you ever lifted weights?” asks Madame Natasha as we enter the gym.

“Not since school, Madame. And I only used small five pound weights.”

“Well I’m going to be half an hour doing my daily routine, so you can amuse yourself by seeing how many lifts you can do with the club’s weights. You can start with these dinky five pounders, but if you want to impress me, try the ten pound versions after you’ve warmed up.”

“Yes, Madame,” I reply, not really enthusiastic about doing this, but knowing better than to refuse.

I watch Madame Natasha begin her routine with heavy weights that I’m not sure I could roll never mind lift. I play my part and begin lifting the two hand-held five pound weights. Despite the intervening years, I manage to recall my training at school, and use the correct technique to lift them. However, eight lifts is all I can manage before my arms can take no more.

“Two more and you can take a break, Melissa,” calls Madame Natasha.

I wasn’t aware that she was watching me, and I feel awkward at only managing what I did. I must seem like a pathetic weakling compared to the large weights Madame Natasha is lifting. Despite my aching arm muscles I complete two further lifts. Sweat is dribbling down my chest and arms and I could do with a shower.

“Sit over there while I finish my routine. You can try the ten pound weights another time.”

I kneel rather than sit on the mat in the corner since my arse is still tender from Saturday’s walloping. By the time Madame Natasha is finished, she’s glistening with sweat. She looks quite sexy if you are into that sort of effect.

“Come on Melissa, we’ll use the facilities in E5C to freshen up,” says Madame Natasha.

Most of the recreation rooms in E5 are designed and decorated as themed play rooms, ranging from a sheik’s harem to small intimate bedrooms. Regardless of the theme, they each contain a private bathroom. E5C is one of the medium sized bedrooms used for private threesomes and foursomes. Madame Nicole and Olivia occasionally spend a night together in one of the small bedrooms, and Madame Chloe and I have considered doing the same. However, she and I need to keep our relationship discreet, and cannot risk being seen together coming or going into one of these rooms as night. That issue is academic for the moment, as I’m spending my nights in the alcove in Madame Bernice’s suite.

Madame Natasha has clearly planned ahead. Room E5C must be booked in her name, as the door opens as soon as she presses her palm against the pad by the door. Since she could have used the shower in the gymnasium if she was alone, she was clearly anticipating company.

The moment we are inside, Madame Natasha starts undressing me. She’s mindful of my injuries, but she isn’t overly gentle as she removes my wrap-around skirt. Without being told, I remove Madame Natasha’s top. Her tits bounce free. They’re almost as firm as Madame Chloe’s and mine, despite Madame Natasha being ten years older than us.

We are both covered in sweat, and the pungent smell of Madame Natasha’s sweaty armpits is doing strange things to my insides. As ridiculous as it sounds, I find myself becoming aroused. Madame Natasha places her hands on top of my head and forces me down onto my knees until my face is aligned with her cunt.

“You know what to do, Melissa. Get busy.”

I lean forward and start teasing her clit with my tongue before moving onto her cunt. Yet again the strong odour of Madame Natasha’s sweat does wicked things to my own libido. I sneak my left hand between my legs and start rubbing my own clit. I’m not sure if Madame Natasha notices my unauthorised actions, but she doesn’t stop me. However, I’m too well immersed into the slave lifestyle to have an orgasm without permission.

I bring Madame Natasha to an orgasm which adds yet more odour to the scene. By now I’m reaching my own peak, and I briefly break my continuing worshipping of her cunt.

“Please may I come, Madame,” I plead.

“Later, after we shower.”

I clamp down on my pending eruption, and manage to quell my desperate need into a simmering arousal. Fortunately Madame Natasha is ready for her shower, so we adjourn to the bathroom. The shower in this room is designed to fit more than one person, making it easy for the pair of us to manoeuvre inside the cubicle. I begin soaping us both while Madame Natasha washes her hair. Suddenly she pins me against the cubicle wall and reaches between my legs. Her strength is far more than I can resist. First one, then two, and finally three fingers delve into my cunt. Her thumb works on my clit. Despite my tender arse being rammed against the wall, my mounting arousal overcomes any pain.

“May I come, Madame,” I gasp as Madame Natasha’s fingers bring my back to an impending orgasm.

“Yes, you dirty little slut. Come for your mistress like the whore that you are.”

I come with an explosive orgasm that leaves me gasping for air. Madame Chloe occasionally uses demeaning words when we have sex, but they don’t normally have the same effect that Madame Natasha’s words are having on me. I’ve experienced several new things while in Madame Nastasha’s thrall, and the combined effect is simply wonderful.

Madame Natasha had promised Madame Bernice that I’d be returned within an hour. I’ve no idea of the time, but I can’t help feeling we passed the time limit while we were in the shower. Spending ten minutes rolling on the bed in ’69’ position after we dried ourselves, isn’t going to please Madame Bernice… or Madame Chloe, if she ever finds out.

Fortunately Madame Bernice is busy socialising with newly arrived Madame Alina… or Madame Lash as she likes to be called. Tessa has had dealings with Madame Lash in the past, and Tessa has told me a bit about her. Apparently Madame Lash operates a private training facility for novice dominatrices and submissives. She carries some influence among the Mistress caste, but she usually allies herself with one or other of the more wealthy mistresses like Madame Faye or Madame Bernice rather than compete for dominance. That makes her someone both Madame Faye and Madame Bernice try to draw into their own exclusive circle, but invariably only succeed in gaining a temporary alliance.

My return to Madame Bernice’s suite doesn’t go entirely unnoticed, but Madame Natasha ensures that any blame for my lateness rests with her. Madame Bernice accepts Madame Natasha’s apology and simply sends me off to the communal kitchen to wash up the crockery from her morning gathering.

I find Drippy busy in the kitchen preparing a light lunch for Madame Melody and a few guests judging by the quantity of food. Drippy seems to be worried about something, and is doing her best to hide her distress.

“What’s wrong, Drippy,” I ask. “Has Madame Clarice or another mistress been trying to poach you again?”

“Not for the last few days. No, I’m worried that Madame Melody is being drawn into something that she might regret later. Mistress Selena is trying to enlist support among the mistresses to back a proposal Lady Raewyn is promoting. She’s brought Lady Raweyn and a couple of other ladies to meet with Madame Melody.”

“That must be the same proposal Lady Raewyn came to see Madame Bernice about on Saturday,” I say. “I’m not sure the proposal will gain much support from mistresses.”

“I agree. That’s why I’m worried that Madame Melody will get involved in a confrontation with the some of the more aggressive mistresses.”

“Do you think Madame Melody will support Lady Raewyn’s proposal?”