Corporate Retreat (2 page)

Chapter 2: The Retreat

The small jet landed at the private airfield where a man and a woman were parked beside the runway. They were sitting in a large SUV awaiting the latest guests to the Master’ brothers private island. He was Hans, head caretaker for the retreat and she was Victoria, Mistress of all slaves kept or brought here. He was a long time friend of the brothers, given this position because of his years of loyalty and his penchant for dominating women. Victoria was Andrew’s first slave, his property since she was twenty-two. Now at forty-two she had taken over the care and training of Andrew’s newer slaves.

“So Greta is returning to us?” said Hans.

“Yes she is and it appears Andrew wants to keep her for himself since Avery wants the new cunt,” replied Victoria, with a hint of jealousy in her tone. Even at forty-two years old she was still a stunningly sexy woman, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure to die for. Natural 40D tits sitting atop a toned five foot nine body that weighed a svelte 125 pounds with all the curves in the right places, combining to make her quite a sight.

“Don’t worry pet, I am sure Andrew will shag you too this week, you were his first you know,” replied Hans, a man who stood six foot three inches tall, weighing in at a muscular 250 pounds. He was forty-one and a long time friend of the Masters brothers. He had the enviable privilege of managing their private tropical estate, one that was always stocked with a bevy of slaves. For the ex-Navy Seal Colonel, running an island full of obedient and nubile babes was a fitting retirement, at least he thought so.

Together these two people kept this island running like a tight ship, one that was always ready to induct new slaves and rehabilitate uppity ones. This evening they were waiting for the latter, with the newbie due in by midday tomorrow. As the plane taxied to a halt they looked at each other and smiled. Though they enjoyed all their time here, even partaking of a rather intimate relationship themselves, it was always exciting when visitors came to join them. With a knowing look at each other, the two exited the vehicle once the engines of the plane were powered down.

As they walked toward the jet the door opened and the steps folded out to the ground. Avery Lyle emerged from the opening and walked down the three steps to the tarmac. He smiled at his island caretakers as they approached him, but turned to look back at the plane entrance just as Greta emerged.

Her entire torso was covered in rope, and with her arms folded upward behind her back, she looked like an armless mannequin. The ropes even covered her ample bosom, compressing her enormous tits in their tight embrace. The roping was so extensive it was run between her legs, hiding her pussy from view. Her legs were bare, but she wore extremely high-heeled pumps that were connected to leather ankle cuffs with a short chain between them.

But it was her head and how it was housed that was truly amazing. A tight white latex hood rose up from her neck, encapsulating her entire head except for an oval area around her face. Within that oval was a mask of a smiling face with small holes cutout for her nostrils and larger ones for her bright green eyes. A small hole at the top of the hood allowed her platinum blonde hair to sprout out of it like a fountain. She was truly a living doll, a seemingly sexless one at that.

Avery could see that she still had not come to terms with the announcement he made after he had ‘dolled’ her up. The bondage was fine; she was used to it and fully accepted it as her role in life. But once he told her she was being returned to the island never to return to his house she felt the life crushed out of her. As she stood at the top of the stairs, recognizing her life was being turned upside down; she could not help but tear up, sending rivulets of moisture into her mask. She walked down the stairs slowly and carefully; the six-inch heels and foot long hobble chain were making the stairs a challenging trial. She reached the tarmac and stopped next to Avery, looking dejected.

Then Mei came out of the plane, a petite Asian lady who was nearly as old as Victoria, but looked like a twenty year old. She wore a simple black mini-dress that hugged her slim, toned body. Her jet-black hair draped down her back reaching her pert rump and her olive colored skin looked like caramel. Her legs were covered in fishnet stockings and she also wore high heels, but with no hobble or bondage at all. She stepped down to the tarmac smiling brightly as her hosts came up to the group.

“Everything ready for our retreat?” asked Avery once Hans and Victoria reached him.

“We are always ready Avery,” replied Hans, not liking Avery’s business-like greeting too much. The Masters were always friendly first, but he also knew that Avery contributed vast sums of money to keep this island running, so he deferred to the man.

Then to lighten the mood, Victoria said, “Shall we get back to the house? We have the bracket attached to the truck should Greta prefer the scenic ride there.”

This made Avery smile broadly, looking at the odd post attached to the center of the SUV’s front bumper. He exclaimed, “Yes, let’s give Greta the scenic tour.”

Greta was petrified, knowing full well what they intended for her. But when Mei and Victoria started walking her toward the truck she shuffled along like the helpless slave she was. Avery and Hans followed the women and when they got to the truck Hans grabbed Greta and lifted her up like a doll, while Victoria and Mei hooked the heels of her shoes over a short crossbar at the base of the post. Straps were wrapped around Greta’s ankles, knees, and thighs to secure her legs to the post. Another strap was wrapped around her rope-encased waist and secured to the top of the post, which ended just above her buttocks.

Her eyes showed the fear she felt, a counterpoint to the smiling face the mask portrayed. She would be able to move her upper body a bit, but the way they had bound her left her unable to escape what was about to happen. Without further comments the balance of the group got into the truck and Hans started driving it to the villa. There was short and direct route they could have taken, but Hans took the ‘scenic’ route that led them through a narrow dirt road encroached by heavy foliage. Though Greta’s upper body was covered by coils of rope, her legs took a beating, being scratched and scraped by a myriad of plants, with their leaves, branches, and brambles. Added to that was the way the truck bounced over the uneven path, as it was not wide enough to be called a road, jostling and jarring the poor woman mercilessly.

Even a seasoned slave such as Greta, also dealing with the mental blow of the rejection of her Master, found it hard to remain composed as she was pushed through the near jungle like fauna that encompassed the island. The ride took barely fifteen minutes, but by the time the truck and its hood ornament reached the villa, Greta was silently praying for mercy. And that only added to her misery, knowing full well that her torments here were just beginning. Avery had delighted in telling her how he had a very ‘special’ week planned for her and Greta knew that meant constant pain and humiliation.

When the truck finally lurched to a stop in front of the main house Greta was already defeated, sobbing in misery. The passengers disembarked with Avery leading Mei and Victoria into the house, leaving Greta alone with Hans who walked around the front of the truck to look at his old trainee. He fondly remembered when the original spoiled Greta arrived, a haughty pampered bitch. She crumbled under his severe training and in less than a month had become a wanton sex slave. Her ability and capacity for multiple orgasms was her undoing, plunged into a world of pain and pleasure that she was helpless to resist. Now he had seven days to enjoy her special charms again and he was ready to start immediately.

“I am going to unbind you now, are you going to be a good little slave for me my dear?” he asked, the wicked grin painted across his face clearly displaying his evil intent.

Greta managed a nod of assent, knowing full well that any other answer was unacceptable.

As he started to remove her from the front end of the truck he said, “Do you remember your first time with me here? After what Avery just told me about what he has planned for you that will seem like a picnic in the park.”

Hans said nothing more as he began to take her off the car, but what he said was enough. Greta’s mind was reeling, having never forgotten how ruthless Hans was when he mentally and physically broke her years ago. She, just like her replacement Dana, thought she was being promoted when she was offered a trip to this very same island. Instead she was stripped of any dignity and transformed into a compliant sex slave.

Now she would face a new hellish transformation, either to become a corporate slave or in preparation for her new owner. She used to think the former was nothing more than a cheap slut-slave and it was better to be a slave to a single Master. But after Avery destroyed her emotionally today, she started to think it might not be so bad being a company slut, at least she would not become attached to any single Master. But she also knew from the experience of her initial transformation that they would strip her back down to her feral self, eager and ready to obey whoever commanded her.

While she was immersed in these thoughts Hans managed to remove her from the truck and lay her helpless body face down on the dirt road. There was a lush lawn a few feet away, but that might have caused Greta a modicum of relief and that was verboten for the next week. So he dropped her onto the hard-packed sand roadway instead. He knelt down and began to undo the extensive rope bodice that held her torso in its tight embrace.

Greta’s arms were folded behind her back with her hands flat against her shoulder blades and by now they were completely numb. As Hans slowly loosened the rigid bindings that held her body she started to whimper as the blood flow was restored and the inevitable prickly pain began. Avery’s rope work was exquisitely designed so that it could be removed without having to unravel every strand, having been looped and secured down the length of Greta’s spine. It still took Hans better than fifteen minutes to release her body from the hemp cocoon leaving her lying on a pile of ropes. Her arms were useless and Hans had to slowly bend them down and lay them at her sides, her restrained groans of discomfort not truly reflecting the pain she actually felt.

Her back and arms were dark pink and indented with the braided pattern of the ropes she had worn, except for a large X pattern across her back where her arms had been secured. He rolled her onto her back to reveal a similar pattern across her abdomen and breasts. Hans had to peel her two-inch wide nipple rings out of her breasts, since they had become imbedded in the malleable flesh below her large areolas. Her vaginal adornments, a small three-quarter inch ring mounted just above her clit and two one-inch rings secured deeply into her outer labia, also had to be pulled free of the soft flesh. Greta hissed through her gag as the hard metal rings were pulled away from her soft flesh.

Hans could feel and see that despite the severe treatment she had undergone, she was wet and aroused, an observation proved true when he scraped a fingernail across her clit making her moan with a small sign of pleasure. He would have loved to shag the bitch right there on the ground, but that was not part of Avery’s game plan so he simply moved to her head to remove her hood and mask. First he peeled off the latex headpiece and then removed her mask, revealing a stunning beautiful woman even after the extreme duress she just endured.

Hans saw the fear still in her deep blue eyes and since her mouth was stuffed with a pair of acrid smelling panties she could say nothing. He pulled the panties from her mouth, sniffed them, and then asked, “Made you pee in your panties before stuffing them in your mouth didn’t he?”

“Yes Master,” Greta croaked, sounding utterly defeated.

Hans grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up as he said, “Let me help you up my dear,” literally hoisting her up to stand on her shaky legs. Her arms were still useless and she only squealed out of surprise by the way he manhandled her platinum blonde hair. Apart from her high-heeled pumps, Greta was now as naked as the day she was born.

Hans then grabbed her arms and she winced from the pain she felt in her partially numb limbs, but Hans simply said, “Good, looks like they are coming back to life. Hopefully they won’t be permanently damaged.” Then he pulled them behind her back and cuffed them with a pair of steel manacles, not that it was necessary, but bondage was to be a main part of her regimen for the next week. He then fastened a collar around her throat and clipped a leash to it before saying, “Follow me slut.”

He tugged on the leash as he led Greta around the house and toward the pool area in the back. The back of the house faced the ocean but was sitting upon a hill that climbed up from a pearly white beach. Hans led Greta over to a squared off area covered in bright white gravel and ordered her to kick off her shoes and stand in the middle of the gravel. She did as she was ordered, gingerly stepping into the sharp stones once her shoes were removed. Hans picked up a hose and began to douse her in a cold spray of water. She slowly turned in place, enduring the onslaught of cold water without complaint.

Hans was thorough, making sure to rinse every part of her body thoroughly and brutally. When he was done he turned off the hose, tossed it aside, and took her leash to lead her past the large kidney shaped pool. There was a man-made waterfall at the far end with three streams of water cascading into the pool. They walked passed it and onto a path that led to the beach, but turned to the left shortly after the waterfall onto another path that led behind the wall of stones that made up the water feature.

They came to a small promontory that gave a spectacular view of the ocean more than fifty feet below it and there they stopped. On the ground was a small barred cage barely two feet square in shape and it was sitting under a tall rectangular metal frame that looked like a window out to the sea. Hans lifted the lid of the cage and gestured for Greta to step into it. She did as he expected and accepted his help as she was forced to sit inside the cage. He did not bother to release her cuffed wrists and he had to guide her down until her bum rested on the bottom bars of the cage and the rough rock ledge.

Once seated her legs were bent at the knees with her feet positioned at the front corners of the cage and with her arms trapped between her back and the bars of the cage. Hans ran a strap under her tits and used it to secure her to the back of the cage. He used shorter leather straps to secure her legs to the sides of the cage, leaving her sex gaping open. The bars on the bottom of the cage were narrow, except for the center six inches where there were none, leaving her pussy and asshole fully accessible. Hans lowered the lid of the cage while pulling her head backwards to allow room for the semi-circular cutout in the top bars to encircle her throat.