What Awaited Us on the Island of the Submissives
The group had come together slowly, among people from several countries with the same tastes. In the city, within the local circle of BDSM enthusiasts, six friends who already knew each other ended up crossing paths: Marina, Carla, Selene, Lorena, Patricia, and me, Rebeca. There were also several guys. On the last Saturday before summer, they summoned us to explain the details.
We were all sitting on folding chairs when they handed out sheets listing every practice that could take place. They were meticulous to the point of obsession. They detailed every possible situation and, in capital letters at the end, the safe word.
—In front of each of you there’s a questionnaire so we can really get to know you and avoid problems —the organizer said, walking between the rows—. We’ve reviewed your medical tests so that everything happens in the best possible conditions. We’ll group you according to your level of surrender. On the island you’ll be able to refuse anything, but a refusal we consider unfounded will count against you: three and you’re out. Even so, we’ll respect your limits. A no will always be a no.
We filled out the forms and went out for a few beers to get rid of the butterflies in our stomachs.
Fifteen days on an island. I’m going to enjoy it above all because I plan to use all of you, my little sluts.
—First they have to pick you —Carla laughed, elbowing me—. Then we’ll see who uses whom.
The emails arrived days later. We were all confirmed for August 1st, along with the pickup point. We only had to bring our medication, contact lenses or glasses if we wore them. Not a word about what to wear. That, in reality, was already an answer.
***
On August 1st we were told to report early to a farmhouse on the outskirts. They made us go in one by one through one room and out through the other door. Marina went in first. She had to strip, and they helped her onto a bus with the windows covered. Inside, iron bars had been fixed along the sides. They seated her with her legs open, her arms stretched out in a cross, and a gag that kept her mouth half open. Then a hood covered her head.
Carla was hooded before getting on and placed the same way. Selene too. Lorena got an exception: they put her facing the wall, on her knees, with her ass in the air and a rubber dildo held in her mouth. I was left for last.
I had thought that, since they had promised to let me play with the others during the transfer, I’d travel free. I was wrong. The only thing they allowed me was to see them naked and write a number and a letter on their bodies to identify them. Then they tied me up in the same humiliating posture as Lorena, and I understood that they were the ones deciding the balance of power.
When they also brought the boys on board, a woman walked down the aisle checking that every body was held firm. The engine started. We rolled on to a small dock reached by crossing a private estate. From there, to a speedboat, and from the speedboat to the place where we would spend the fifteen days.
During the crossing I couldn’t keep quiet. I was desperate, aching to touch them. The guard noticed, freed my wrists, and granted me a tiny license.
—One woman’s breasts. That’s all.
I chose Carla’s. I devoured them almost ravenously, and that’s why I didn’t see it coming. The guard had signaled one of the wardens, who came up behind me, grabbed my hips, and fucked my ass without asking permission. I protested at first. Then I let myself go, trapped between Carla’s chest and the thrusts that ended up soaking my ass cheeks. When we finally reached land, I asked permission to bathe in the sea, and they gave it to me.
After that they linked us all into one chain, ankles included: six girls and six boys in a line, on the way to the building. That first night we would sleep in the basement.
***
It was a large dungeon. They sat us on the floor and chained our necks to the walls. The chains only allowed us to reach a central hole to urinate in; for anything else we had to ask, and they would take us somewhere else. We spent the night with only the sound of iron each time someone moved.
In the morning they brought breakfast in small bowls. Then they took us out to a courtyard, immobilized us against a long wall, and washed us from a distance with a hose of cold water. Then came the hard brushes and soap, and once again the icy stream to rinse us.
In another building we waited standing up to be called. One by one, they sat us in gynecological chairs and simulated a medical exam. They took you to the edge of orgasm and, just then, pulled away. They shaved us from the neck down; for the girls they left a narrow strip of pubic hair. In one corner of the pubis they tattooed us with temporary dye, the number and letter that would identify us for the whole stay. After that they gave us freedom to move around the island. Only Patricia stayed behind: she had to help the cook.
***
Marina went into a nearby bamboo grove. Among the stalks stood an old, crumbling shed. She felt like urinating, squatted among the ruins, and when she was about to get up, a hand closed around her throat.
—Very slowly, get up, slut.
He led her to the highest wall of the house and tied her wrists up high, to a point she could barely reach. He cut two bamboo stalks and whipped her ass, alternating with sharp blows to her nipples. Marina screamed. When he got tired of that, he freed her arms and made her kneel. He pinched her nostrils shut until she, out of breath, opened her mouth, and took advantage to shove himself in all the way. He wasn’t looking for a careful blowjob; he was fucking her mouth, holding her by the hair.
Then he pressed her against the wall again. Her back was crisscrossed with red lines and her ass was parted so the two cheeks were kissing. He squeezed them, pulled them apart, and pushed in. He was short but very thick. He forced his way in slowly, without mercy, until the head entered. He repeated it until the path gave way, dug his fingertips into her groin, and impaled her with a slow brutality that ended in his orgasm. He pulled out and left without a word. Marina went to the stream to cool the burned area, but another dominant caught her on the way out, threw her down, and fucked her until he came. That time she didn’t wash: she plunged herself fully into the cold river water.
***
Carla had walked to the beach we had seen when we docked. She lay in the sun and, after a while, went in for a swim. She came out of the water with her big, firm breasts, defying gravity. I spied on her from a hiding place, not missing a detail, and I didn’t see that one coming either.
A domme grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the shore.
—What a slut you are. You think that because you can use them you’re allowed to do anything. Look how it’s done.
She sat me at the edge of the brush, tied me to the trunk of a tree, and, straddling me, pissed all over me. Carla saw everything from the water and got turned on: my brazenness did it for her, and the roughness with which they treated me even more. She could have run; she knew that wasn’t what was expected of her. She knelt with her heels tucked under her ass, thighs apart, palms up, waiting.
The domme lifted her by the collar leash and took her to where I was still tied up. She laid Carla on her back, sat on her mouth with her back to me, and ordered us to eat her, one on the pussy and the other on the ass. While doing so, she fastened clothespins to Carla’s nipples. She sent me to the house for a candle; when I came back, she lit it and let the hot wax drip over those bound breasts. I spread Carla’s legs and started grinding against her, faster and faster. Between the pain of the wax and the pleasure, Carla was shaking. When the domme finally came, the two of us exploded together in a long, drawn-out orgasm. Afterward the three of us bathed in the sea and stayed floating there for a while, in silence.
***
Selene never made it out of the house. A master claimed her and two assistants took her to a huge salon. They seated her, put clothespins on her nipples, and applied measured jolts that made her scream and tense every muscle. They removed the clips, put her on a gynecological chair, and inserted a metal dilator. They connected the electricity little by little, raising the voltage sometimes all at once, until she, with a ball gag between her teeth, couldn’t take it anymore and came.
They took everything off her and bent her over the table, resting on her forearms. The master took a whip and made her ass red stripe by stripe. Then he penetrated her without pause, alternating, until he emptied himself inside her.
***
Lorena, just as she crossed the garden gate, was captured by a very tall dark-skinned woman, a goddess who towered over her by a head. She took her to a small room, bent her over a trestle, and tied her wrists to her ankles. With an electric wand she sent jolts all over her body and then marked her ass with a riding crop. She put on a double-dildo harness that penetrated her at the same time she penetrated herself. When she reached orgasm, she left a vibrator working in Lorena’s pussy and called over a thick-membered submissive who, after plenty of lubricant, ended up fucking her with a vigor that left her trembling.
***
Patricia had stayed in the kitchen. She was married, had two daughters, and had worked out this getaway with her husband as a pressure valve. While she was helping prepare the food, an older woman from the village came in, elegant and dressed in old-fashioned clothes. She came closer, lifted Patricia’s chin, and checked her mouth like a mare’s. The humiliation lit her up. The lady sank two fingers between her legs, slowly fingering her, while the cook watched, stroking herself over her apron. When she finally let her go, she called over two submissives: one penetrated her from the front and the other offered her his cock to suck, and Patricia, on her knees, gave herself to both at once until they both finished.
***
The following days, until the fortnight was over, stopped being a succession of tests and turned into something else. We learned to read one another, to know who needed a break and who was asking for more with a look. There were whole afternoons on the beach, the six of us together and mixed up with the boys, where nobody was counting hands or mouths anymore. Desire had become something shared, nameless and ownerless.
On the last night, before they returned us to the world, the organizer gathered us in the courtyard.
—Would you come back? —she asked.
We looked at one another. Marina smiled first, then Carla, and in the end we all nodded almost at the same time. No more needed to be said. Some vacations aren’t told; they’re carried marked into the skin.
