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<1st attachment, "Ingrid, part 1.doc" begin>
Paradise Island - Ingrid's Tale, part 1 of 4
By Kjell Madsen, 2004
Shortened Preface
This story contains sexual themes, words, and situations. If you
are underage, don't read it. If you don't like this sort of
stuff, don't read it. This is not a 'stroke-story' -- if that's
what you are looking for, you are wasting your time.
Story codes:
Framework: mf, Ff, f-solo, SciFi
Ingrid's narration: ff, mff, FF+, M+F+, Fdom, rom, slow, caution
These are the general codes that I think best describes the story
as a whole. I put in caution because there are elements in
various chapters that, technically, might deserve harsher codes.
However, these elements are not described in detail. See chapter
breakdown in the full preface for additional codes for the
prudish. On the other hand, hardened ASSM habitus might argue
that the whole story should be labelled 'no-sex' -- there *is*
sex in it but it is described without 11-inch penises, orgasmic
shrieks with multiple exclamation marks, floods of sperm and
vaginal fluids, and similar graphical details.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction and the characters are fictional. Any
similarity to real people, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. The author does not necessarily endorse all the
actions of the characters.
Plea for feedback:
I love feedback but seldom get any. Please, send an e-mail and
tell me what you think to kjell (DOT) madsen (AT) home (DOT) se.
The fine print:
This story is copyrighted 2004 by Kjell Madsen, all rights
reserved. Please ask for my permission first if you want to
repost it or use it in any other way. Archiving by ASSTR is
permitted and encouraged.
This is part 1 of 4
###
Prologue
The woman dozed on her pneuma-coach; she had parked it on the
porch of her 'cabin' and reclined the seat as far as possible.
Occasionally, the machine emitted a soft noise when it inflated a
section of the mattress and deflated another to give the woman a
gentle massage. No other sounds disturbed the quiet. A light
breeze played with her hair, covering and uncovering her face.
Her hair was almost white and her face was covered with wrinkles,
suggesting advanced age. Nevertheless, the overall impression was
not one of decrepitude but of wisdom; her wrinkles spoke more of
laughter and compassion than of sorrows. Her face possessed an
age-less beauty and it was still easy to see the lovely young
woman she must have been.
This impression was enhanced by the rest of her body. The climate
in the X-57 space-habitat was tropical and the 'weather' was, of
course, controlled and always benevolent. Thus, there were no
need of clothes for protection and few of the inhabitants wore
anything at home or in their everyday activities. (Naturally,
there were an endless variety of garments used for festivities,
but the purpose of that clothing was not protection, but purely
ornamental -- very often outfits that would have been deemed
impossibly indecent on Earth). Consequently, the woman was naked
and her skin showed signs of a long life in the open with little
or no clothing. Her body looked amazingly trim and her breasts
were still full. Good genes, balanced diet, careful exercise, and
the benefit of 0.2 g pseudo gravity had preserved her body's
youthful tone far beyond her years. It was hard to believe that
she was 96 years old and a great grandmother.
***
A clear female laughter suddenly broke the silence. "Stop it,
Sam! I love you and I love flying, but it's impossible to mate in
the air...Oh! ...Yes! ...But please stop. I have other things to
do..."
The woman on the coach opened her brown eyes, smiled fondly,
stretched like a cat, and rose from the coach in one fluid
movement. She opened the screen-door and went out to look at the
'sky'. Two large 'birds' were circling each other in a
complicated aerial ballet. Presently, one spied the woman on the
ground and called out in the same clear voice: "Hello, Granny,
I'm coming". One 'bird' separated from the other and dove toward
the ground. When she came close to it she checked the dive with
two rapid flaps of her wings and landed lightly on her feet. She
folded her wings and ran into the waiting embrace of the elder
woman. "Hello my angel," the woman greeted her, "is Sam getting
fresh with you again?"
The stunning young woman's face lit up with a wide grin and her
nipples hardened visibly. "Yes, he has this preposterous notion
that we should fuck in the air -- not even birds can do that. But
he is cute and I love him anyhow." She looked up at the young man
who had followed her and was circling close to the ground. "Come
on, Sam!" she called, "come down and say hello to my fairy
grandmother."
Sam landed and folded his wings, taking care to cover his crotch.
"Hello, Mrs. Shane," he said somewhat shyly. "Mrs. Shane! Don't
be ridiculous -- call me Granny, or Ingrid like the others," the
woman said with mocked sternness. "And don't bother to cover up,"
she added with an impish smile, "I have seen it all before." She
closed in on the man and kissed him firmly on the mouth. She
caressed his rigid cock briefly and continued. "I hope that you
aren't mad at me for interrupting something urgent -- but Jenny
asked me to help her with her graduation project." Sam blushed
hotly and mumbled something inaudible.
Meanwhile, Jenny had shucked her wings and now stood completely
bare, watching the others. "Poor Sam!" she giggled. "I cannot
leave you like that. You would get a case of blue balls, or
worse." With that, she fell to her knees in front of Sam and
promptly gave him a blowjob. It didn't take him long to come and
afterwards he kissed Jenny tenderly, said goodbye, flapped his
wings, and rose (a bit unsteadily) to the air. Jenny watched him
leave and when he turned toward her, she threw him a kiss.
***
Ingrid and Jenny went inside and Ingrid poured a tumbler of
orange juice for Jenny. They sat down at the table and Jenny
drank deeply. "Ah! Flying is thirsty work," she sighed
contentedly after she had emptied the glass. "Not to mention
other activities," Ingrid chuckled. "Well -- what can I do for
you, Jenny?" she asked after a short pause.
Jenny hesitated; "... I'm not quite sure how to begin -- but I
would like you to tell me about your life." She fidgeted, looking
uncertain, but Ingrid could see that the girl was determined to
go ahead so she just smiled and nodded. "... I mean -- you are
the oldest living member of our community -- and you have
experienced so much that we in the younger generations have no
ideas about". Jenny squared her shoulders and continued
determinedly. "Take me, for example. I'm 16 years old and I was
born in this habitat. I have never been to Earth -- not that what
I hear about it sounds very inviting -- but I would like to learn
how it once was before we almost destroyed it..." Jenny stopped
and looked both relieved and expectant.
Ingrid kept her face bland and thought furiously. Wherefrom had
Jenny got this idea? Was it from her mother Joliet? It was only
two days since Joliet, who was the current deputy Colony Leader,
had more or less demanded that Ingrid dictated her autobiography
to 'preserve Important Historical Knowledge (her capitalization)
about the founding of X-57'. Ingrid had refused adamantly and
claimed that she was old, but not old fool enough to reminisce
futilely about the long past. Was this another trial to talk her
into something she didn't care to do? Jenny looked pleadingly at
Ingrid. "Please..." she said.
Ingrid sighed, "Damn Joliet!" she thought. Jenny was her
favourite and to watch the girl grow up -- so like herself -- was
one of her greatest pleasures in her old age. She sighed again
and said, "Dear Jenny -- I don't know what possessed you to ask
me this. I've always looked forward, never back -- and only
senile old fools live in the past." She winked at Jenny who
looked dejected and continued, "Alright, Jenny -- I'll make you
this deal: I will tell you about my sinful past -- but only if
you come here and listen to me. I absolutely refuse to talk to a
stupid computer -- and I will start from the very beginning. If
it is your mother who talked you into asking me this, she will
have to wait a long while for her Historical Knowledge -- and I
bet that you will grow tired of my ramblings long before we reach
the founding of X-57."
Jenny's face was immediately lit up with a wide grin that showed
off her dimples. "Thank you, Granny Scheherazade -- you tell
tales and I will listen for a Thousand Nights and a Night" she
promised. Ingrid giggled, "Well, I don't think it will take that
long -- and if I'm a princess, I think Cinderella is closer."
They continued to talk and Jenny confessed that Joliet had goaded
her to make her request. "But I'm much more interested in your
life when you were young -- Say, is it really true that you were
a slavegirl?" she asked with curiosity shining in her eyes. "Now,
now" Ingrid chuckled, "that's several chapters into my memoirs --
and we agreed that I will start from the beginning."
They agreed that Jenny should come and listen to Ingrid's tales
for two hours every afternoon after school and Ingrid gave her
permission to hook up a voder. "I guess it's OK for the computer
to listen if it doesn't interrupt -- and it's probably the only
way to keep your Mom out of my hair." When Jenny had donned her
wings and flown away, Ingrid sat long on her coach, looking out
on the deepening twilight -- so reminiscent of the Swedish summer
nights she experienced so long ago -- maybe reminiscing wasn't
too bad after all...
Chapter 1 -- My Childhood
Ingrid was sitting on her porch the next afternoon when Jenny
entered, shucked her wings and came to embrace the elder woman.
Ingrid had prepared sandwiches and other light food and placed it
on a table between her pneuma-coach and a second recliner. The
table also held glasses and several bottles of wine and mineral
water. "Please, sit down Jenny -- and help yourself to a sandwich
and something to drink." She poured herself a glass of wine and
sipped on it. Then she continued, "Well, Jenny -- are you ready
to hear about my childhood?" Jenny smiled, bowed, and kissed
Ingrid's hand; "Yes, noble princess -- please begin your tale!"
she declared.
***
I was born in a small town in Sweden called Kil. The name means
wedge in Swedish and refers to the shape of the land. Look at the
map and see if you can find it; localize the large lake Vnern and
follow its western shore north until you find the city Karlstad,
then look for the long lake Fryken north of Karlstad and follow
it north again until you find Kil. The town had close to two
thousand inhabitants and my Dad worked as engineer in one of the
paper-pulp factories, while Mom was a nurse. I don't remember
anything about Kil from that time -- my parents bought a
farmhouse and Mom quit her job when I was a little more than one
year old. However, my two years older brother, Christopher,
remembered a little about our first flat in Kil and he told me
later.
Our house was located in a tiny village that was so small that it
didn't even have a proper name -- it was called By (that's
'village' in Swedish). There were only five houses in By and one
house was a deserted ruin. In the smallest house, a 'soldier
cottage' from the 18th century, there lived an old couple; the
woman was very kind and filled the role of 'fairy grandmother'
for us kids but the old man was gruff and we were afraid of him
(I now believe that he was shy but we didn't understand that
then). One of my Dad's workmates moved into one of the houses
with his family at the same time as we did. The man's name was
Olof (but he was called Olle) and his wife was Kerstin. I adored
'Uncle Olle' as I called him and loved to sit on his lap,
listening to his fantastic tales about princesses, princes,
dragons, trolls, and... They had two children: Leif was almost
grown-up (five years my senior) and was already going to school
in distant Kil when I became aware of him; his brother Bengt,
however, was my age and we became great playmates. The last house
was occupied by a young couple from Stockholm who moved in one
year later than we did (as part of the 'green wave'). They didn't
have any children until much later. (I was ten when Eva had her
twin babies and I still remember my thrill when I was allowed to
hold them for the first time).
Thus, by necessity I grew up as a tomboy; I had only two
playmates, Bengt and my brother Chris. We were always together
and our plays were always wild boys' plays -- whether we were
Indians or spies or intrepid explores. Uncle Olle called us 'the
three musketeers' -- which of course necessitated an explanation
and led to new games and vigorous fights with wooden swords.
Chris, who was the eldest, was our leader but Mom told me later
that I was the wildest. When it was summer, we went
tree-climbing, fishing, and swimming in the nearby lakes. In the
wintertime we went skiing or skating or built snow-castles which
the 'knights' Sir Bengt and Sir Ivar (that was me) stormed with
snowballs, while 'King Christopher' defended them valiantly. The
loser(s) were taken prisoner and 'tortured' with 'muleing', i.e.
pressing snow against the face and sometimes inside the clothes.
When my younger brother, Lars, was old enough to participate in
our games, he became our esquire.
***
The only unusual thing (as I understood later) with my childhood
were our clothes -- or rather lack of clothes. The climate was
cold with long winters and a lot of snow -- one meter or more was
common. Naturally, we had warm clothes when we were outside.
However, indoors we went naked as often as not. I never used
nightclothes until I moved in with a roommate during my studies
in Karlstad in my late teens and I didn't know what a swimsuit
was before my class went to the community swimming pool in
elementary school. One of the absolute 'highs' was in the spring
when we could cast off our clothes and run around naked outdoors
-- and an annual disappointment was when Mom told us to put on
our clothes again in the autumn (always far too early in our
opinion). Throughout the summer, I didn't wear a stitch, unless I
accompanied Mom and Dad on a shopping trip -- and I usually
stripped in the car as soon as we left town again. There must
have been some kind of understanding among the adults about how
to handle nudity -- I and my playmates continued to be naked at
home and throughout the village even when we grew older and
nobody said anything negative about it. I don't think my parents
were nudists -- at least not the organized, camp-going type --
and they usually wore at least some clothing, but they were not
shy about nudity.
Sex, was also something we learned about early. If you live on a
farm, you see the animals 'doing it' all the time and my parents
were not adverse to explain what they were doing, and why.
Neither was human sexuality a forbidden subject for questions and
frank explanations. I was maybe four years old when I caught my
parents in the act the first time and I was upset, at first,
because I thought that Dad was hurting Mom. They hugged me and
explained what they were doing, and I saw that it was the same
thing that the pigs, and goats, and dogs, and... were doing. Dad
let me touch his erect penis and I was amazed by its size.
Naturally, I wanted to fuck him like Mom but he just smiled and
told me that I was too little yet -- something I accepted readily
and fell asleep with my curiosity stilled. I must stress that I
was never molested in any way and there was no incest in our
family -- much later when Chris and I started to think about it,
Mom had a serious talk with us and explained why it was a very
bad idea for brothers and sisters to fuck each other. We listened
in wide-eyed horror -- we both had seen stillborn and malformed
animal foetuses -- and wowed solemnly not to do it.
Somewhat later (in junior highschool) I realized how different
our upbringing was from the norm when a very embarrassed and
red-faced biology teacher stammered something almost inaudible
about sex and my classmates tittered nervously. This was my only
formal 'sex-ed' -- something that probably would have surprised
people in other countries who often thought of Sweden as 'The
Land of Sin'.
***
The first time schools made a serious intrusion into my life was
when Chris started elementary school shortly after his 7th
birthday -- Leif had been going to school for years and years but
he had always been a distant, almost adult, figure that had very
little impact on my life. Now my brother (a very important person
in my life, indeed) put on his school clothes, went to the school
bus, and disappeared for the whole day -- and I wasn't allowed to
go with him. I still remember my bitter frustration of being 'too
little' for school and I pestered Mom until she helped me to
teach myself to read and write. Whenever Chris was doing his
homework, I sat together with him and learned as much as
possible. As a result, I'd already mastered almost everything
taught in the first two grades of elementary school when I
started school two years later. However, in the rigid Swedish
school system that was not an advantage -- I found school boring
and I think my early experiences discouraged me from higher
studies. Incidentally, Bengt didn't share my early scholastic
interests and he had a hard time learning 'the three Rs' when he
started school. However, he was a late bloomer and went on to the
university -- he became a professor in Biochemistry.
Going to school meant meeting girls in my own age but I found
most of them rather silly -- playing with dolls and other silly
things. I preferred to play and fight with the boys, and I think
some of the girls were scared of me. However, I eventually found
one girl, Maria, to be together with. She stuttered and was very
shy, and the others teased her cruelly. I took her part -- even
at that young age unjust treatment angered me -- and bloodied the
nose of the worst teaser. After that incident, I had a loyal
supporter and admirer in Maria and I think she learned to be more
assertive from my example.
***
My most terrifying experience in school -- one can really talk
about a scandal but not in the sense my teachers thought -- was
our first visit to the community swimming pool that I mentioned
before. It occurred close to the end of the first grade when our
class should be tested to see who could swim satisfactory (I
think it was 25 meters) and who needed more training. The
community of Kil arranged 'swim school' at several places during
the summer break and these schools were free of charge. Needless
to say, I swam like an otter -- Chris, Bengt and I used to race
across our lake and back, which was more than a kilometre.
Nevertheless, I was very excited because I had heard those of my
classmates who were from Kil proper talk a lot about the
fantastic pool. Thus, I shucked my clothes as soon as we came
there, ran straight to the pool, and dove in -- as naked as a
frog.
After all these years, I can still not understand the reaction of
my teachers and other adults. Instead of talking calmly with me
and explain that I was supposed to wear a swimsuit (I was hardly
aware that such garments existed), they reacted in panic. When a
big male lifeguard finally caught me, he more or less threw me
out of the pool and marched me brusquely to their office. There,
he left me for half-an-hour -- without any explanation. When my
teacher arrived with my clothes, I was terrified and crying
uncontrollably, but she just threw the clothes at my feet and
ordered me to put them on. She took me out to her car and drew me
back to school, still without a word of explanation or (far less)
consolation. Once there, I was brought to the headmaster's office
and he (whom I hardly knew) started to call me bad names and
threatened to have me expelled from school. Then he called my Dad
at his work and threatened him too. Dad arrived at the office
presently -- and I have never seen him so angry. He and the
headmaster started to shout at each other and I was terrified
again. When they, finally, stopped I was shaking with sobs and I
could hardly see for all my tears. I didn't understand what
terrible thing I had done -- but I feared the worst.
However, Dad was not angry at *me*. He calmed me and actually
carried me to his car. He drew a little bit outside the town,
parked the car, and asked me to tell him what had happened. Then
he gave me the explanation my teachers should have given me in
the first place. "It's not your fault, princess", he said, "there
are a lot of rules in our society that one must obey -- and one
of the silliest is that even small children must not be naked in
the community pool." He continued to say that he was sorry that
he hadn't told me earlier but he had no idea that our class was
going to the pool. "If you like, we can go to the warehouse and
buy a nice swimsuit that you can use the next time," he
concluded.
The next day, my teachers had come to their senses and they never
mentioned the incident again. I guess that they finally realized
that I was naive and really didn't know better when I made my
nude splash in the pool. (My classmates teased me, of course, but
I was big and strong and had a reputation as a fighter so it
never became too bad). I used my suit the next time we went to
the pool but I never liked it -- I never used it at home.
The rest of my schooling was unremarkable; I eventually graduated
from highschool with mediocre grades, and then I went to nurse
school in Karlstad. This was a big step -- my first time away
from home with all what this meant to me -- but that must be the
subject of tomorrow's tale.
***
Ingrid took another sip of whine and looked at Jenny. "What do
you think, Jenny? Boring isn't it?" she asked. "No, not at all!"
Jenny protested. "I found the tale fascinating and hard to
believe -- snow is frozen water, isn't it? -- And more than one
meter! -- How could you *live* through that?" "We weren't used to
anything else and humans can live in almost any climate. I must
say, though, that I prefer to be naked in a tropical climate like
this -- but I miss skiing sometimes", Ingrid replied. "I guess it
must be somewhat like flying", Jenny answered dreamily.
Then she sat up and looked straight at Ingrid. "However, I cannot
believe your story about the swimsuit -- it's the sickest thing I
ever heard -- please tell me that it isn't true", she continued.
Ingrid sighed and replied, "We were living in a sick culture --
you who had the advantage of growing up in a healthy society
cannot understand how sick it was. We Swedes thought our
attitudes were more rational than most -- and maybe they were --
but deep down we were suffering from centuries of abuse from the
Church and other authorities. I don't ask you to believe this --
it's totally unbelievable. Sex was considered dirty and sinful --
and nudity, even of children, was intimately connected with sex.
Therefore, my teachers and the other adults probably reacted with
a knee-jerk reflex and treated my nudity as if I committed a rape
or something like that." Jenny just shook her head unbelievingly
-- as Ingrid had warned her, it was totally unbelievable.
Chapter 2 -- My first lovers
Ingrid smiled at Jenny when she entered. "Hello, Jenny", she
said, "You are prompt as usual -- are you ready for my next
tale?" "Of course I am," Jenny replied. "What will it be this
time -- tales from the nurse school?" "Well, not exactly," Ingrid
answered her, "I'm going to tell you about my first lovers." She
closed her eyes and began talking...
***
I reached my menarche two months before my 12th birthday; I
wasn't surprised because I had been waiting for it almost a year.
I thought I knew everything about sex. As I told you yesterday, I
had seen mating of animals, and my parents, since I was a little
girl. I had also seen Chris enter puberty and was fascinated in
the changes of his body. He was now growing hairs on his crotch
-- He didn't have to shave yet but he looked eagerly in the
mirror every morning. Naturally, we explored each other's naked
bodies and I liked to caress his penis. The previous summer, our
games had become overtly sexual and I saw him ejaculate several
times. (Bengt still thought sex was yucky and he was somewhat
alienated at that time).
Nevertheless, my puberty was somewhat of a shock to me -- I had
never imagined that it would be so damn *personal*. As my body
started to develop female curves, Chris' interest in me grew more
intense. He was morbidly fascinated in my menstruations, and he
loved to fondle my budding breasts. We masturbated together (and
each other) and I had my first orgasms. I was caught in a
hormonal storm and my developing body felt awkward. My thoughts,
day and night, were occupied with sex -- raw, animal sex, not the
romantic ideas that my female classmates seemed to be occupied
with. As Chris grew more insistent, and I became more interested,
we progressed from handjobs to blowjobs and we were constantly
talking about fucking. I guess that we would have done it within
weeks if Mom hadn't given us her horror lecture. That put a
damper on the heated situation and we stopped short of fucking.
However, I continued to have oral sex with Chris until he left
home to study engineering at Chalmer's Technical Institute in
Gothenburg.
Was Chris my first lover? Well, we certainly loved each other and
most people at that time and place would have regarded our
friendly play as sex, incest, and sin. The taboo against incest
was terribly strong -- and even normal sex was regarded as
something shameful. We could have landed ourselves in terrible
trouble but, fortunately, our parents -- just like an American
president somewhat later -- didn't think that oral sex was 'real
sex', and they only admonished us to be discrete. We were -- and
Mrs. Grundy never found out. I guess that our neighbours in By
knew what we were doing -- but if so, they never told.
***
Instead, I 'lost my virginity' (Jenny, can you believe that it
was actually called that?) to Bengt shortly after he reached
puberty about a year later than me (changing his views about sex
dramatically). He was also a virgin and very shy -- I had to trip
him and it was somewhat of an anticlimax. There was no pain or
bleeding -- I don't know if I broke my hymen earlier or if I was
one of the women born without it -- but there was no orgasm
either. However, our lovemaking grew better and became quite
satisfactory in the end. We continued to make love almost every
day until I left home.
As a former nurse, Mom had a 'no nonsense' attitude to teenage
sex and she quickly arranged to put me on the pill so there was
no risk of me becoming pregnant. My early introduction to sex and
the pill might have caused me to end up a few inches shorter than
I would have been otherwise (inches that I was sorely missing
later when I tried modelling -- more about that later). However,
the cause may very well be genetic -- Mom was about an inch
shorter than I became.
***
I had sex with a few other boys during highschool but I had to be
careful -- it was easy to be branded as 'an easy lay' those days
if you were too interested, and that could be devastating for a
girl's reputation. (For some reason, this rule only applied to
girls -- the boys were supposed to fuck around.) Therefore, I
played 'Miss Ice queen' most of the time and demanded an extended
courtship before I let a boy do as much as kiss me. I don't think
any of my classmates found out my true sluttish nature -- I was a
'good girl'. I often dreamed of seducing some of my teachers,
Dad, Uncle Olle, and several other men. However, they were even
more unapproachable for all practical reasons and I never did
anything sexual with any of them. Moreover, Chris, Bengt, and my
own masturbation managed to keep my simmering sexual lusts under
control -- barely.
***
Going to the nurse school in Karlstad was the most breathtaking
event so far in my young life. It was too far to commute so I had
to leave home and move to the city. For a teenager who was used
to live in a tiny village where you could run around naked in the
countryside and who regarded Kil as a large and busy city, the
change was dramatic and almost terrifying. Karlstad seemed like
an impossibly hectic metropolis -- people were hurrying around
everywhere like busy ants and the streets were filled with more
cars than I was used to see in an entire month.
The school had a 'student home' where out-of-town students were
boarded. Moving there was another shock -- the contrast to my
free life at home couldn't have been greater. There were a scores
of different rules we students had to obey -- curfew at 8 pm,
strict dress codes, no visitors allowed in our rooms, and (heaven
forbid!) no male visitors or anything else that could (even
remotely) be associated with sex (in the view of the school, sex
didn't exist)... Such rules were made for breaking -- and they
were (constantly and enthusiastically). We were chaperoned by a
retired nurse who lived in a flat in the house -- and outwitting
her became the favourite sport among us girls. I rapidly became
adept in playing 'good girl' while bending the rules to suit me
-- I was never caught. In retrospect, I believe that this
extracurricular training was the most valuable part of my
education -- I learned to never take rules at face value but to
use my own judgment and to bend the rules (discreetly, of course)
if necessary.
Another important extracurricular training was provided by my
roommate, Lena, who introduced me to lesbian sex. She wasn't
actually a lesbian and she had a boyfriend, Jan. (Yes, Jan is a
male name in Sweden but it tends to be mixed up with Jane in
English-speaking countries. Jan told me that once he went to a
scout meeting in the US -- and he was placed in the girl-scouts'
camp for a day before the situation was rectified.) Lena was so
sweet and our sex felt so natural that neither of us had any
second thoughts. I'm definitely heterosexual but I don't sneer at
girl-sex -- It can be very friendly and satisfying and it made
the long 'dry spells' without men easier to endure.
The second semester, our friendship became strained for some time
when I (inadvertently) stole Jan from Lena. How? Well, he walked
in on me when I was naked and masturbating -- and one look at me
was enough to trip him. I was so hot that the first thing I
noticed of him was his rigid cock entering my pussy. As expected,
Lena took a dim view of the event and she accused me bitterly of
seducing Jan, and then she didn't speak with me (or Jan) for
several days. However, in the end we kissed and made up -- and
subsequently we shared him, often by having sex all three
together. It was really sweet and I still think a triangle with
one man and two women is the best combination of all -- if they
all love each other and if the man is up to it. Our stud was
definitely up to it, and he was fun to be with -- out of bed too.
Not that we had sex only in bed -- far from it. Jan and Lena
married eventually but we kept in touch and after my own marriage
I invited them to Paradise Island. We had a wonderful time there,
reviving our 'mnage trois'.
It was Jan who (also inadvertently, I believe) started the events
that got me expelled from nurse school and eventually made me
Mrs. Shane -- but that is a long story and it must wait for a
later date.
***
Ingrid stopped talking and opened her eyes. She looked at Jenny
and broke into an amused smile when she saw the state the girl
was in. "Hmm -- you seem to like my story, Jenny", she chuckled.
Jenny blushed and moved her hand from her pussy; "Yes, yes, YES!"
she exclaimed, "It's so damned hot that I can't believe it -- I
have never tried girl-sex but it sounds fantastic". Ingrid,
winked and replied; "If you want to try it, I think that I'm
still quite capable to show you a few things, my dear", she
giggled. "Come here and let me show you!" she commanded. Ingrid
was, indeed, capable when she applied all her vast knowledge of
'The Fine Art of Pleasing Women'. Jenny was soon shrieking in
ecstasy and finally she passed out...
Much later, Jenny kissed Ingrid tenderly and thanked her from the
bottom of her heart. "Thank you, Ingrid -- it was the most
incredible experience in my whole life." "Can we do it again
sometime? -- And can you show me how to do what you did to me? --
I would love to it to you." Ingrid smiled tenderly, "of course, I
will tutor you in this Art -- and then you will owe me a return
favour that I'm looking forward to" she replied.
Chapter 3 -- Modelling
Jenny rushed into Ingrid's porch with an air of eager
anticipation and immediately started to talk. "Hello, Granny -- I
cannot wait for your next tale any longer. Will you tell me what
dastardly deed Jan did to you?" she asked breathlessly. Ingrid
laughed cordially. "Yes, that and much, much more", she replied.
She winked at Jenny and continued. "Take a seat ye mighty
Empress, and hear my tale..."
***
It started innocently enough; Jan was an ardent amateur
photographer and he was always taking pictures of Lena and me --
with and without clothes. He soon had hundreds of photos of me
and when he heard that the 'Miss Vrmland' contest was about to
commence, he submitted my name and a few pictures (not the nude
ones, I hope). He didn't tell me anything about it and I was,
therefore, very surprised and rather upset when I received an
invitation to participate. However, Jan and Lena convinced me
that I was beautiful enough to win the contest and be invited to
the 'Miss Sweden' final -- and then, who knows... I started to
become enthusiastic -- even if I didn't dare to believe that I
would become Miss Sweden, it would be an exciting adventure. I
decided to go ahead with it and accepted the invitation.
However, what none of us counted on was the reaction of the
school management. I don't *know* that they read our mail -- but
how else could they have found out about my participation so
soon? The next morning I was called to the headmistress' office
and she gave me an ultimatum -- withdraw from the 'immoral
spectacle' (her words) at once, or leave the school. I deemed it
unladylike to lose my temper, but this time I wished that I could
punch her nose -- or at least that I was back in elementary
school and could throw a tantrum. Of all silly notions, this was
the worst I experienced since I jumped into that community pool
long ago. I mean -- what's immoral with a beauty contest? Posing
in swimsuits? -- Heck! Those suits were *less* revealing than
what you could see on any beach. With great difficulty, I calmed
myself and asked for time to consider -- I was given 24 hours.
It wasn't really an issue. I was fed up with antiquated attitudes
from the days of Florence Nightingale -- I was studying to become
a nurse, not a nun. Moreover, I had started to wonder if I had
the proper vocation -- I was rather fed up with bedpans et al.
too. However, I needed to tell my parents and find out if they
would support me. I called Mom and got her instant approval to
quit -- she never liked nurse school either and was shocked that
the attitudes still were the same. With light heart, I went to my
room and started packing. Returning to By was like Heaven after
Purgatory -- I shucked my clothes the first thing and challenged
Lars to a swim-race across the lake (he won but I didn't begrudge
him that -- I was jubilant to be back home).
***
I had several talks with Dad and he urged me to make up my mind
what to do, now that I'd decided not to be a nurse. He said that
it was no *great* hurry but I had to decide to become *something*
-- maybe a secretary. I promised to give it a thought but I
wasn't too keen on his suggestions -- I had met a few secretaries
and I thought that their work seemed boring. On the other hand,
my grades from highschool were not very good, and I didn't want
to study at the university even if I could, so my options were
rather limited. Thus, I procrastinated and waited for the beauty
contest.
Finally, the day of the contest arrived and I made it to the
final. The finalists' pictures appeared in the newspapers and I
became a celebrity in Kil -- everybody wanted to talk about the
contest and wish me luck in the final. It was held two weeks
later and I made it to the final round -- but I was beaten and a
blond bombshell from Karlstad became Miss Vrmland that year.
However, being a finalist and a runner-up meant that I got
several offers for various publicity jobs and I gained several
useful contacts. One such contact was a model agency in
Gothenburg that engaged me as model for the catalogue of a
mail-order company in Bors. Modelling was fun but harder work
than I thought and the pay was modest -- but it meant my first
own money, and Dad shut up. I did a few commercials and I worked
as nude model for Gothenburg Art School. Finally, I became the
centrefold in 'Fib-aktuellt' (a men's magazine). The pictures
were quite innocent -- some of Jan's pictures were much more
explicit -- but they created a sensation in Kil. (And I hope the
old dinosaurs at the nurse school saw them -- I would have loved
to see their faces turning purple.)
***
My break came shortly after Christmas when I received a letter
from London via my model agency. The British agency was looking
for a new trend in models in the 'post-Twiggy era' (Twiggy was a
sylphlike supermodel who created a sensation in the sixties and
started a vogue that persisted for more than two decades -- if it
ever ended). They had looked at some of my pictures and been
attracted by my natural 'girl next-door' look -- and they wanted
me to come to London for an audition.
Wow! London really *was* a metropolis but, at the same time, it
managed to keep a quaint small-town charm. I simply loved to
explore the streets and the parks, together with my friends or
all alone, and I was never afraid. The audition went well; I was
added to their 'stable' and moved in with other models in a
'bed-and-breakfast' that was run by a charming old lady (of a
kind I don't think they make anymore). Six girls shared a
bathroom with an ancient bathtub (with lion paws) and a WC you
wouldn't believe. I worked hard and did a number of glamour shots
-- but the Twiggy trend was more persistent than expected and the
agency wanted me to lose ten pounds. I tried but it seemed
impossible -- I was not fat (I never was) but they started to say
that I was too fat -- and the number of offers declined. I became
depressed but during this difficult period I met a girl from
Finland, Karin. She consoled me and we grew quite close. Karin
was from a Swedish-speaking family (she told me later that it was
her foster-family and that she didn't remember her biological
parents). We didn't make love, but she liked to cuddle (she was
very cuddlesome) and she comforted me a lot.
Karin looked like an archetypal Valkyrie -- tall, blond, and
statuesque -- and it was easy to imagine her clad in chain-mail,
riding over the battlefield, and collecting the souls of fallen
warriors to Valhalla. Nevertheless, she was very sweet and there
wasn't a mean bone in her body -- I loved her. She had been
living in London for two years when we met and she was currently
working as a freelance model.
Encouraged by her example, I started to look for jobs apart from
the model agency (with the intention to break my contract when it
came up for renewal). I wasn't shy, used to nudity as I was from
home, and I did a number of nude model jobs -- both for artists
and photo sessions. I participated in soft-porn movie, liked the
experience, and contemplated to accept a staring role in a
hard-porn flick. However, Karin warned me that the hard-porn
market was a swamp that would destroy me. She had seen it happen
to one girl and heard about others. "They'll use you and abuse
you, Ingrid", she said, "and when you lose your freshness,
they'll dump you -- and you will end up whoring on the streets."
I wasn't totally convinced but I promised Karin to stay away from
hard-porn as long as possible. My economy was not very good but I
wasn't starving -- I could wait.
***
Ingrid sat up and looked at Jenny. "Then came my second (and
greatest) break -- the one that led to Paradise Island (and
eventually my marriage with Bob). However, this story is so
fantastic and long that it will take several chapters in my
memoirs -- and it's getting late already..." she concluded.
Chapter 4 -- Slavegirl training
Ingrid smiled impishly at Jenny when the girl returned the next
afternoon. "Jenny, today you will get your treat -- the tale
about how I became a slavegirl," she announced. Jenny's grin
almost reached her ears and her nipples went 'sprung'. "YES!" she
almost shrieked. "Oh, Granny, I'm wet already. I think I will
come from pure anticipation" "Be my guest," Ingrid giggled, "and
maybe we can squeeze in some tutoring after my tale" Jenny moaned
with pleasure and closed her eyes -- it was evident that she was
close to orgasm. Ingrid waited for the girl to calm down a little
and, then she asked the girl to sit down and listen. "Masturbate
if you must, Jenny," she said with a fond smile, "but try to be
quit so you don't distract me from my tale." She closed her own
eyes and began...
***
Late one afternoon when I returned to my room, my landlady
intercepted me with eyes shining of excitement and curiosity, and
she told that a gentleman had asked for me in person (oh, dear!).
Then she gave me a note that the man had left for me. It was a
request to call him at his office 'as soon as convenient' about a
'position' as hostess at a tropical resort. I was intrigued but
it was too late to call that day, so I called him the first thing
in the morning and agreed to meet at his office the same
afternoon and to bring my 'portfolio' (i.e. collection of
pictures from my modelling career).
I went to the office -- it was located in a Victorian house in a
very exclusive part of London. The only sign of any commercial
activity was a row of discrete brass panes beside the door with
names and titles (a lot of 'Sirs' and an alphabet soup of
occupation titles). I found the correct name, pressed a button
beside it, and was soon ushered into an office that reminded me
of the British Empire. The occupant of the office fitted
perfectly into the picture -- elderly, very distinguished, very
polite but very formal, tree-piece suit and something that looked
like a school tie from an exclusive private school -- the only
things missing were a bowler hat and an umbrella -- but, heck, we
were indoors and he had probably hidden them in a wardrobe
somewhere.
A secretary brought tea and the man started to ask questions. I
had a very hard time to keep a straight face -- his accent was
pure Oxford and his manner was very 'stiff upper lip', but the
questions he asked me clashed completely with the rest. I felt
unreal -- here I was, sitting opposite the very archetype of a
thoroughbred British gentleman who was old enough to be my
grandfather -- and he asked me intimate questions about my
sexlife, occasionally looking into some kind of questionnaire on
the desk. What kind of 'position' was this? My concern must have
shown because he stopped his questioning and started to assure me
that he worked for a very distinguished client and that there was
'nothing inappropriate' with the position. Unfortunately, he
couldn't disclose the name of his client. I was not convinced but
our conversation steered into safer subjects and I did my best to
answer his questions candidly
Finally, he asked me to show my portfolio and his eyes widened
when he turned to the nude shots. I took advantage of his
distraction and glanced at the questionnaire -- the heading said
'Paradise Island, Inc.' and there was an US address that I
memorized. After a while he closed my portfolio but asked me if
he could borrow it for a couple of days. I almost lost my
composure -- the idea of him jerking off looking at my nude shots
(in private, of course, 'nothing inappropriate') came unbidden to
my mind. With great effort, I managed to suppress the hilarious
image and I told him, with a graceful smile, that he could keep
it. (I was proud of myself -- I was howling with laughter
inside).
With that my interview was finished. He promised me to contact me
as soon as he heard anything from his client -- he had the
address to my British agency already but I was planning to return
home for vacation, so I gave him the address of the model agency
in Gothenburg and told him that they could forward any messages
to me. (I was still suspicious of his intent and I didn't want to
give him my home address.)
***
That evening, I told Karin about the absurd meeting -- and I
could finally let out my penned mirth. Karin laughed with me --
but she warned me that it could be dangerous. "I smell a rat,
Ingrid", she said. "I think 'sex-slave' is closer to the truth
than 'hostess' and I've heard rumours about girls being kidnapped
and sold into white slavery -- please be careful, Ingrid!" I
agreed that the same thoughts had crossed my mind and promised
her not to do anything hasty.
The next day, I returned home to By for my vacation.
***
It was fantastic to be back home -- it was summer and it felt
wonderful to be able to abandon my clothes and run around naked
again. The first two days I did nothing at all but basking in the
sun and swimming in our lake. Then, I told Lars about the
mysterious position and asked him if he could find out more about
Paradise Island, Inc. My brother had just graduated from
highschool but he was already a computer wizard. How he did it I
don't know -- but the next day he had found out a lot. The
company was owned by Mr. Robert Shane, a billionaire in the
computer business. "I've heard about him", Lars told me. "He
invented new ways of computer graphics and sold his inventions to
Microsoft. He is rich like a troll and Paradise Island is a pet
project of his." Lars told me that the company had leased a
tropical island named Rarotonga and that they built a private
resort there. The island was a part of 'The Federated States of
Micronesia' in the Pacific. I found Micronesia on the map -- a
lot of islands spread over a large area -- but I couldn't find
Rarotonga.
I had been home for nearly three weeks, and I had almost
forgotten the whole thing, when I received a letter from Paradise
Island, Inc. via the model agency. It contained an invitation to
go to Paradise Island (Rarotonga?) for a job interview -- first
class tickets to Tahiti were provided and they would meet me
there. My parents advised me not to go and I was apprehensive
myself. However, this was High Adventure and the prospect of
returning to a mediocre modelling career in London (or far worse,
to become a secretary) was appalling in comparison. Thus, I
thought hard for maybe five minutes -- and then I decided to
accept the invitation.
Three days later, I was on my way to Tahiti -- Wow! Adventure,
here I come!
***
My enthusiasm was considerable less and I was bone tired when I
stumbled into the lobby of the O'Hare airport Hilton late in the
evening after almost ten hours in the air (and more than five on
the ground at Kennedy airport in New York). My next flight would
start early in the morning the next day and I only wanted to get
to my room to grab a few hours' sleep. However, it turned out
that sleep was postponed for several hours. I got my key card and
was waiting for the elevator when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I
turned around and was facing a grinning Karin. "Karin, what on
Earth are you doing here?" I managed to ask. "Taking care of you,
naughty girl", she replied and her grin became wider. "I
suspected that you would rush ahead with this foolish affair --
and when I found out that you did, by making a nuisance of myself
at the office of your British gent, I raised Heaven and Hell and
got an invitation too. There must be an intelligent person in the
party to save your ass if this is a jump from the frying pan into
the fire," she giggled. I was happy to see her -- we embraced and
kissed and she accompanied me to my room.
Once there, Karin told me more and I almost choked with laughter
when she described her adventures. I would gladly pay a small
fortune to see the scene for myself when my Valkyrie friend
accosted the strict man in his office, threatening to cause a
scandal if he didn't yield. In the end he did -- and Karin was
invited to Paradise Island the next day. She had arrived with a
direct flight from London -- and she would accompany me the rest
of the way to Tahiti. "I still think this is madness, Ingrid",
she told me, "but now, at least, we are two together and we can
help each other." "I wish we knew our final destination..." she
sighed, looking wistful.
I told Karin what Lars had found out and she smiled a relieved
smile. "Great, Ingrid!" she exclaimed. "This might be the
lifeline we need." She rose from the chair and left the room.
"Sleep well, Ingrid, I will take care of everything..." she said.
I wondered what Karin was up but I was too tired to care. I took
off my clothes and fell on top of the bed -- I was too tired to
bother with the coverlet and I think I fell asleep before my head
hit the pillow.
The telephone woke me after too little sleep. It was Karin; she
told me that everything was OK and that we had two hours before
our flight was due. I showered, dressed and met her in the
restaurant. Karin looked tired but pleased with herself.
"Everything is under control, Ingrid" she said with a satisfied
smile. "It took some time -- but if we disappear now, Mr. Shane
will get his just deserts." I wondered what she had done but she
just smiled enigmatically and told me not to bother my pretty
head with it. "I know a few dirty tricks but I don't want to
corrupt you, my naive little Ingrid", she declared. We checked
out after breakfast and soon we were flying west again.
***
My memory of the rest of the trip is foggy. It seemed
interminable -- I recall dimly that we changed flights at least
two times and when we, finally, arrived at Tahiti airport, I was
more than half-asleep on my feet and Karin had to drag me along.
Not that she was in much better shape herself -- I still wonder
how much sleep (if any) *she* managed to get in Chicago.
Presently, a woman in some kind of uniform came, asked us if we
were Ingrid and Karin, and told us to follow her. I seem to
remember that we went outside and onboard another aircraft but
the next thing I remember clearly was waking up beside a naked
redhead. She was freckled all over, her name was Christine, and
she said that we met earlier. Then I realized that I was naked
myself and wondered how I lost my clothes -- and where they were.
I had hardly started to feel apprehensive when a tiny door opened
in the wall and Karin emerged, drying her hair on a towel. Glory
Be! A shower! Christine and I almost fought each other to be
first in it. After the shower, we dressed (our clothes were
neatly folded beside our beds) and joined five other girls who
were sitting in the main cabin. The woman, her name was Sue
Anderson, served breakfast (or whatever -- my stomach was totally
out of sync). Christine presented me to the others. They were all
from different parts of USA -- Linda and Nancy from California,
Joe-Anne from Arizona, Betty from Chicago, and Marina from New
York. Christine herself was from Manchester, England -- it was
evident from her accent -- but she had travelled in the US when
she was caught in Mr. Shane's net. All the girls were beautiful
and friendly in their own way but I became particularly fond of
Joe-Anne -- like me she loved to be naked outdoors but she had to
be more careful with it than me.
Shortly after the meal, I got my first view of the island. Wow!
It looked to good to be true -- Paradise Island was really a
fitting name for it. As we came lower, I could see fantastic
beaches with white sand and palm-trees but no buildings or roads.
Sue explained for us that Bob (that's what everybody called Mr.
Shane) liked it that way and that he, consequently, had arranged
to hide any signs of civilization as far as possible.
After landing, we were met by a middle-aged lady (Johanna) and a
native young man (Peo) clad in a small loincloth. They brought us
to their 'guesthouse' -- a sprawling complex of low buildings
with a central lobby and a large pool outside. Inside the lobby,
there was a teenaged native girl (My) and she was also wearing
only a loincloth -- and she lost it soon enough when she was
teasing Peo, who turned out to be her brother. Johanna laughed at
her performance and told her to show us our rooms -- which she
did stark naked. Later we had dinner and I was tempted to shuck
my clothes and go starkers. However, I thought that it was maybe
unwise to shock the others so soon. I compromised and put on my
tiniest shorts (no panties) and a halter top. It turned out the
others had reached a similar conclusion and Joe-Anne was the most
daring -- she was 'dressed' like me, minus the halter top.
Joe really loved to be naked -- after the first day on the
island, I hardly ever saw her wearing anything. She ganged up
with My and went all over the place, as far as the native
village, in her birthday suit. It was quite safe to do so -- the
natives had no body taboo at all and their customs inspired me
when I had some influence on our society here on X-57 (more about
that later). When six other girls arrived at the island a few
days later, our group gained another starker -- Gretchen from
Germany. She was even more enthusiastic (some would say fanatic)
about it (her parents *were* organized nudist and they were going
naked anywhere they could). I couldn't compete with these two
exhibitionists but I never used my swimsuit at the pool and I
often went naked to the beach for a swim in the lagoon. At meals,
I usually wore at least on item of clothing -- often just a long
t-shirt to keep myself warm in the slightly chilly
air-conditioning. Most of the other girls followed more or less
the same dress code and there was only one girl (Nina from
Croatia) who never went beyond topless at the pool
***
Finally Bob and his assistant, Elisabeth (Lisa) Reilly, came to
the guesthouse and told us what the mysterious job was all about.
I wasn't very surprised to hear that we would become sex-slaves
and Karin looked meaningfully at me. "Let's talk later," she
mouthed. Many of the girls looked scared but I thought that I saw
something assuring in Bob's eyes. God! He had lovely eyes behind
his glasses. I was beginning to feel very turned-on and I hardly
listened when Lisa assured us that nothing bad would happen if we
declined the contract and that the company would pay our return
tickets regardless of our decisions. I was drowning in Bob's eyes
and I felt how my juices started to trickle from my hot pussy. My
greatest concern at that moment was how to hide my arousal --
including the telltale wet spot that was probably forming at the
back of my dress. (I was wearing a dress, and so did most of the
others, feeling that a more formal attire than usual was
appropriate. Heck! Even Gretchen wore clothes -- but I bet she
didn't wear any underwear -- and neither did I.)
I managed to leave the room after the meeting without raising any
undue excitement, and then I went to my room to calm down. I was
in the shower when Karin knocked on the door and entered. "Have
you cooled down enough to discuss the contract now?" she giggled.
I blushed clear from the top of my head, down to my toes and
stammered my denials. Karin laughed cordially and stuck out her
tongue at me. "Don't bother to deny it -- Bob turned you on,
little slut -- I know you too well for you to hide it", she
continued. I didn't deny it a second time and we started to
discuss the contract. "I still think we should decline," Karin
told me, "but I guess that wild horses couldn't move you from the
island now, Ingrid", she added with a smile. I blushed hotly
again and started to think hard -- but it really wasn't an issue.
Four years as a slavegirl wasn't a too high price to pay for
economic independence (the pay was $ 2000 000 plus expenses) --
and maybe I could win Bob's heart -- I couldn't believe that he
didn't feel at least a tiny bit for me what I felt for him.
Karin saw the answer in my eyes before I could speak up. "OK,
Ingrid," she concluded, "you are determined to stay -- and
therefore I will stay too. We must tell Johanna tomorrow and I
must cut our lifeline -- I cannot keep it in place for more than
a few days without using it."
We talked with Johanna the next morning and gave her our signed
contracts. Then Karin told her about the lifeline and what she
must do to cut it. Johanna paled visibly and immediately called
Lisa -- there was a local telephone net but to reach outside one
had to use a satellite phone. Therefore, Karin left to meet Lisa
at Bobs 'manor house'. She returned a few hours later, looked at
me and said, "Well, Ingrid, it's done -- we are on our own now."
I felt a strange mixture of apprehension and relief -- we had
jumped into the sea with both feet now and there was no return.
Of the other girls, only Ruth, a spunky girl from New Zealand,
had decided what to do -- we three took it easy at the pool and
waited for the others to make up their mind.
***
The moment of truth arrived at noon two days later. In the end,
only three girls decided to opt out. Nina was the least
surprising -- she was too shy and had never dared to be totally
naked with us. However, I was very surprised that our prime
exhibitionist, Gretchen, chose to leave -- and Linda echoed my
surprise. It turned out that Gretchen had no problem at all with
the required nudity but she was highly allergic against the
thought of being a slave -- I wondered if she was wiser than me,
and I was uncertain how I would manage that part.
I soon found out -- Johanna presented 'Mistress Mona' and she
terrified us. In a very short time we lost all our belongings, as
well as the hair on our pussies and most of the hair on our
heads. Linda was spanked until she was bawling like a baby,
simply because she protested to have her hair cut, at first (She
had the most glorious long blond hair I've ever seen, so I
understand her protests.) Our mistress wasted no time to tell us
'a few basic rules' and it became terribly clear that we were
slaves with no control at all of our lives.
Later Joe-Anne was placed under My's control, and the native girl
had Joe make love to her in the lobby. I was very aroused by the
sight and was embarrassed that my bald crotch made my condition
evident for anyone who cared to look -- it was easy to see my
swollen inner lips and the fluids that were almost dripping from
my pussy. My only consolation was that I shared my predicament
with most of the others. We were then marched out like that to a
hut by the beach and we were told that we had to spend four weeks
there, sleeping on the ground. I had severe second thoughts that
night and could hardly sleep but, for Karin's sake, I said little
and decided to surmount my ordeal.
***
The following days were filled with training and Mona drilled us
hard. However, I lost my terror for her and found many of our
exercises exhilarating. I think I have always been a slut -- at
least since I became twelve and discovered sex for real. On the
other hand, I had been forced to maintain a public persona that
conformed to the common view of ladylike behaviour in our
society. Of course, I did things, for example the centrefold in
Fib-aktuellt, that probably made Mrs. Grundy conclude that I was
a bad girl -- and other things, such as my soft-core flick, that
would have branded me as a whore -- had she known about it. But
on the whole, I was very careful to be discrete and never talk
about my true feelings. Now, I could not only do outrageous
things, such as public masturbation -- my mistress actually
commanded us to do such things all the time. Moreover, we had
great fun -- we laughed a lot and I noticed that Mona grew
steadily more lenient.
My only concern was Karin. As I have told you, she was generally
more cautious than me -- but she was also sure of herself,
resourceful, and a very open and positive person. Now she grew
more withdrawn and she laughed less. She had nightmares and she
often talked in her sleep -- she spoke Swedish but it was only
unintelligible mumbles. Something obviously troubled her -- but
she didn't want to talk about it.
***
Ingrid opened her eyes and paused. "Well, Jenny -- it's getting
late and you must decide if I should go on with my tale -- or if
we should stop here and take care of your tutoring", she said and
looked at the girl who was breathing heavily. "What a choice!"
Jenny moaned, torn between curiosity and lust "...but OK...please
tutor me, Granny slut." "Let's go to my bedroom then," Ingrid
replied with a chuckle...
Chapter 5 -- Ruth
Jenny arrived early the next afternoon and she and Ingrid talked
for a while before it was time for Ingrid to begin her tale.
"Weren't you scared?" the girl asked. "If I had been in your
place, I would have been terrified out of my mind." "Well..."
Ingrid replied, "I was certainly apprehensive even before we
arrived at Paradise Island and Bob's confirmation of my fears
made it worse -- I was the victim of severely mixed feeling after
that. And, needless to say, I was so terrified the first hours in
Mona's clutches that I almost peed on the floor -- more than
once. Jenny tittered at the idea of her fearless 'fairy
grandmother' scared to that point and Ingrid smiled benevolently.
"It's true, Jenny, I was scared witless -- but I grew less scared
rapidly the first two days, and then I became almost euphoric
instead. Everything was fine and I deemed that the rest of our
training would be smooth sailing."
Ingrid paused a moment, looking at Jenny, and then she continued.
"However, I was wrong and our worst terror -- something that
almost caused me to give up -- was Mona's cruel punishment of
Ruth." "This is not a pretty tale, Jenny" she went on, "Are you
sure you want to hear it?" "She wasn't killed -- Ruth I mean --
was she?" Jenny asked hesitantly. "No, my dear", Ingrid replied,
"Ruth survived her punishment -- she didn't suffer any permanent
harm -- but it was awful while it lasted." Jenny's mouth firmed;
"in that case, I want to hear your scary tale," she answered.
Ingrid nodded and began her tale...
***
As I told you yesterday, Ruth was a girl full of spunk. She made
up her mind to accept her contract the same evening, she wasn't
shocked out of her mind by Mona's harsh treatment of us the first
hours, and she was full of pep talk and cheered us up the first
night when all others were scared and worried about the next day.
She was a constant source of cheerful (and bawdy) remarks -- and
she was the first to appreciate Mona's gradually lessening
discipline. She joked most, she laughed most, and she was the
most wonderfully shameless slut I've ever met.
The day of Ruth's punishment (I think it was the fifth) started
like the previous. Mona arrived at our camp after breakfast and
we lined up in 'The First Position' -- that's with our legs wide
apart, our hands on our backs, and our heads bowed. As you can
imagine, that position left our private parts wide-open for her
inspection -- and teasing -- she often teased us cruelly and left
us standing on the very brink of orgasm.
***
Jenny emitted a strangled moan -- her vivid imagination had no
difficulty to picture the scene -- with herself standing in the
line-up and waiting for the mistress to fondle her. Ingrid smiled
amusedly and paused briefly for the girl to calm down a little.
***
However, this time Mona's intentions were something else. After a
cursory inspection and a few brief caresses, she told us that we
should stand in this position and masturbate. We were to start
and stop when she told us -- and we were not allowed to come
until she gave us permission.
***
A second moan from Jenny caused Ingrid to pause briefly again.
***
I lost count on how many times Mona brought me to the point of no
return -- only to call 'stop' at the last possible moment. I
started to hate our cruel tormentress -- she seemed to have a
sixth sense when to call 'stop' -- and she didn't show us any
mercy at all. I was hornier than I had been in my whole life, I
could barely breathe, my knees felt like mush, my whole body was
aching for release, and my pussy was literally gushing fluids
over my thighs.
***
Jenny's moans became continuous and loader. Ingrid stopped
talking and looked at the girl. She was lying with her legs wide
apart and both hands buried in her pussy, totally oblivious of
her surroundings. Finally, she came in a huge orgasm -- her
sweat-drenched body shuddered and she shrieked on the top of her
lungs. It took almost two minutes before she became aware that
Ingrid had stopped talking and was watching her. Jenny blushed
hotly, "Please forgive me, Ingrid", she pleaded, "Your tales are
so damn hot that I couldn't help myself. Thank you for one of the
best orgasms in my whole life!" "Take it easy, Jenny" Ingrid
replied, "There is no reason to ask me to forgive you -- I'm not
your mistress and I didn't forbid you to come." Then she
continued her tale...
***
Actually, I think it was very clever of you to do what you did,
Jenny -- for now you understand how we felt -- and you can
appreciate what Ruth did. She did the same thing you did just now
-- she didn't heed Mona's command to stop but continued to
masturbate until she came. She even jokingly thanked Mona for her
wonderful orgasm -- just like you did. Mona's reaction took us
all with a dreadful surprise. Instead of laughing at the girl's
joke, she stared coldly at Ruth until the girl was trembling --
and then she gave her a terrible telling off, concluding with
firing her and telling her to go to the guesthouse and pack. This
unnerved Ruth completely -- she prostrated herself at Mona's feet
and begged Mona to let her stay -- she would do anything. (I
learned later why Ruth was so desperate to stay, but then it was
confusing and terrifying to watch the girl debase herself like
that) Mona looked at Ruth with a strange glint in her eyes -- a
glint that felt like ice along my spine then, and which I can
still remember as if yesterday. Mona commanded Ruth to remain in
the exact spot until she came back -- and then she left us
alone.
Mona was gone for several hours and our apprehension made it seem
even longer. We talked in hushed voices, wondering what would
happen to Ruth when our mistress returned. The sun was moving in
the sky, and the tree-shadows were also moving, exposing the spot
where Ruth was lying to direct sunlight. She soon became hot and
very thirsty. She didn't dare to move and we didn't dare to give
her any water -- we were all terrified what our mistress would do
if she found out. (Mona told us later that she never intended
Ruth to lie for several hours in the sun but we didn't know that
then.)
When Mona, finally, returned Ruth was in a sad shape. Her throat
was so dry that she could barely talk when she begged for water
but Mona showed her no mercy. She told Ruth that she would get
water later, but first she must hear her terms of punishment --
and I couldn't believe my ears when I heard them. Mona claimed
that Ruth had acted like a bitch in heat and, therefore, should
be treated like a bitch until she earned the right to be human
again -- she had to crawl on all fours, eat and drink in bowls
without using her hands, and -- worst of all -- she was not
allowed to use the outhouse but we would 'take her on a walk to
do her things'. As a final touch, Mona put a dog collar around
Ruth's neck. Then she put a bowl of water in front of the poor
girl and she had to lap it like a dog in front of all of us.
My anger at Mona's unjust treatment of Ruth flared up and
competed with my terror of my mistress. In the end, my terror won
and I kept quiet, but I wanted to speak up -- I wanted to scream
at Mona and force her to stop, I wanted to fight her regardless
of the consequences -- and I felt like a heel because I didn't
dare to do it.
However, Mona talked with us in the evening, after leading Ruth a
bit away from us. She let us release some steam at her --
Christine did that most eloquently -- and then she explained that
she cared for Ruth and all of us. But, what Ruth did was such a
severe break of discipline that, normally, the only reasonable
response was to fire her. She said that Ruth saw our contract and
our training as a big joke -- it wasn't, and Ruth's behaviour
couldn't be tolerated. Mona had found out why Ruth was so
desperate to stay and, with Bob's permission, she was giving the
girl a second chance. The harsh treatment was necessary to 'shake
Ruth to her core' and make her realized her mistake. Mona
actually begged us to help her -- we should treat Ruth like a pet
and 'welcome her back among the humans, once her punishment is
over'. I was moved by Mona's speech but a nagging suspicion
remained in my mind -- was this really the best way? -- it
reminded me too much of my own treatment at the community pool,
long ago.
***
The next morning, we cooperated with Mona and treated Ruth like a
pet. We prepared her food (not dog-food -- I don't think we could
have agreed on that), we 'took her for walks', and we abused her
with our teasing comments -- calling her 'our little pet',
'doggie doggie', 'bitchy girl', and similar epithets. I didn't
participate actively, but I didn't speak up against it -- I was
just as guilty as the others and I still felt like a heel.
However, I was consoled when I saw that Ruth didn't give up --
she followed her degrading instructions to the letter, but her
eyes shone with fighting spirit.
Our training that day was in sign-language and it was
fascinating. I was amazed how eloquent these signs could be --
but the sight of Ruth, sitting on her heels a bit apart, served
as a chilly damper on my mood.
Finally, the catastrophe happened. We continued with the signs
after lunch and had been practicing masturbation by sign command
for some time (I had approached orgasm at least three times) when
Ruth started to act up. She whimpered once (as she had been
instructed to do) to gain Mona's attention but Mona ignored her.
Ruth whimpered one more time -- louder and more imploringly --
and Mona signed at us to stop, and then she turned to Ruth and
told her not to bother her. I looked at Ruth and saw that she
looked very uncomfortable, almost desperate, and I guessed that
maybe she needed to go for a walk. However, to my lasting shame,
I didn't do anything about it. It would have been an easy and
safe thing to sign 'permission to speak?' to Mona when she turned
back to us again -- Mona may have denied my request (she probably
would) but she wouldn't have punished me for it -- and then I
would at least have tried.
As it was, we hadn't masturbated again for more than a few
moments when Ruth couldn't hold it any longer. She was sitting in
her own shit and her eyes looked completely dead -- no sign of
any fighting spirit (or any spirit at all). Then, Mona started to
tease Ruth about it and the others giggled hysterically. I didn't
giggle -- didn't Mona realize that the girl was broken? -- maybe
irrevocably.
My anger flared again -- and this time it blew all other emotions
away like dry autumn leaves in a storm. I don't know if there
were any female baresarks among my Viking ancestors -- but at
moment I would have qualified. I was naked and unarmed, but I was
prepared to attack Mona and tear her to bloody pieces with my
bare hands. The beginning of a war-cry was forming in my throat
and my muscles tensed, but at that moment Mona turned looked at
me -- maybe she felt the approach of Death. I met her gaze and my
anger evaporated as fast as it had flared up -- leaving me shaky
to the core of my being. For a brief instant, I looked into
Mona's soul and I understood exactly how she felt about Ruth, and
that she had misunderstood the situation at first. (If Mona
noticed my furor, she made no sign of it and she never spoke
about it later.)
***
I was still shaky when Mona, a few moments later, put Ruth's
leash in my hand and told me to help her clean herself. Ruth
followed my like a robot with no initiatives on her own and I had
to wash her like a baby. I started to become deeply concerned
about Ruth -- had the shock blown her mind completely? Maybe, she
would have to stay in a mental hospital for the rest of her life.
I decided to throw my caution to the winds and bend Mona's order
to suit me -- cleaning Ruth must include cleaning her mind as
well as her body. Consequently, after the bath I led Ruth away
from the camp, sat down beside her behind some bushes, took off
the hateful collar, and embraced her tightly. I held her like
that for a long time, talking quietly but earnestly to her. I
told her that no matter what Mona had done to her, she was human
and a worthy person. I told her that I loved her, exactly as she
was -- and I continued to soothe her like that with words and
hugs for and indeterminate time -- without any response from
Ruth.
Finally the dam burst and Ruth started to sob violently. I
continued to hold her close and soothe her. After a while, Ruth's
sobs subsided and she looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with
tears but there was life in them again. "Thank you, Ingrid -- I
love you too" she whispered. We sat embraced for a long time, and
then I asked Ruth if she thought she could go back to the camp
again and play her role. She nodded; "I must..." she replied
quietly and put on the dog collar herself. I led her back to Mona
and she took the leash and led Ruth to her hut, closing the door
behind them. The others barraged me with questions -- what
happened? -- is Ruth OK? -- do you think Mona will release her
now? ... I tried to answer their questions but I felt drained
emotionally and I soon said that I needed to sleep. Karin lay
down beside me. "You were about to attack Mona, weren't you?" she
asked quietly. "Yes, I was furious -- but then I understood her
-- she loves us, Karin" I replied. "She has a strange way of
showing it..." Karin answered -- and something in her voice made
me uneasy.
***
The next morning, I was disappointed to see Ruth crawling on all
fours from Mona's hut -- and I wowed to myself that I would
continue to bend Mona's rules and treat Ruth like a human being
whenever I could get away with it. My chance came almost
immediately -- after breakfast, I volunteered for the first time
to 'take her on a walk' and as soon as we were out of sight from
the others I released the leash. Then I told Ruth to go and do
what she needed to. She looked very relieved to be able to take
care of her needs in decent privacy -- when she came (walking)
back she embraced me. "Thank you my love," she told me, "We must
talk."
We sat down behind a bush and Ruth told me about her conversation
with Mona. "She wants something from me -- but I don't understand
what," Ruth concluded. I thought furiously about it, trying to
find the hidden solution. Ruth had told the mistress that she was
sorry that she had broken the command to stop masturbating and
that she would do her outmost to follow any orders in the future
but that hadn't been enough -- so there was something else that
Mona expected. Wait...Mona had stressed that our training was no
joke -- could it be...? I wasn't certain -- and we had to go back
to the camp.
***
I continued to mull over my idea and it seemed more and more
plausible. It must be Ruth's joking thanks for her orgasm that
was the culprit. Linda didn't make any joke when she was punished
-- and Mona had told Ruth to think about their different
behaviour. It was obvious -- Mona wanted Ruth to apologize for
the joke. However, there were severe distractions that prevented
me to take Ruth aside for a talk. Mona inspected us and said that
we had to remove our pubic hair, which started to grow out again.
She introduced a scandalous depilatory cream and told us to put
it on (I helped Ruth with it). The cream was efficient enough but
it had a side effect -- my pussy tingled and almost made me mad
with desire. I had a few moments alone with Ruth when we rinsed
off the cream (and hair) in the sea but none of us were in shape
for a talk and we had to return to the others. Thus, I only told
Ruth that I had an inkling of the missing thing -- I would tell
her the next time we had privacy for a talk.
My chance to tell Ruth came when we left our camp for a trip to
the medical clinic. Shortly before we came to the main village
path, I asked Mona to be allowed to take Ruth 'for a walk'. I
think that Mona suspected my intentions -- but I'm certain that
she wanted Ruth to come clear, so she gave me her permission
readily enough. As soon as we were far enough from the others to
talk, we sat down and I told Ruth about my insight. Ruth looked
incredulous but she gradually warmed to the idea. "I wonder if
Mona wasn't a slavegirl herself once," she mused. "That would
explain a few things about her that I find strange... Hmm... Ok,
I will try it... just give me two minutes to compose an apology
in this line..."
We went back to the others and Ruth apologized for her joke.
Bingo! Two seconds later she wasn't a bitch anymore -- and then
Mona apologized to us. Her fault was that she often took her self
too seriously, and that she, therefore, had treated us
unnecessarily harshly. Linda continued alone to the village (and
found some adventure of the unpleasant sort, more about that
later) and we others returned to the camp. Once there, Mona told
us about her life. Ruth was right -- Mona had been a slavegirl
for several years before her third master recognized that she was
dominant and helped her to become a mistress. She was actually
training submissive girls as slavegirls professionally -- but
unlike us, these girls didn't become slaves for money but because
they felt a need to submit.
She told us that Lisa and Bob had approached her and she had
agreed to train us. She was well aware of our backgrounds -- that
we weren't submissive and that our training only was intended to
give us the necessary background to play our roles as Bob's
slavegirls (Bob wasn't a true Dom any more than we where
submissive) -- but she had fallen into her customary wheel-tracks
once our training began. Then she explained that she wouldn't use
her 'strict' rules again unless they were a necessary part of our
role.
"The strict rules will be solely for show from now on -- let's be
friends instead. If any of you have any questions, and you can
ask them without breaking your roles to outsiders, don't hesitate
to ask them. I will answer all your questions, and I will try to
explain in advance why I think you need various parts of the
training", she concluded.
***
"And that concludes my tale of Ruth's punishment", Ingrid said
and poured herself a glass of wine. "Aw, Granny!" Jenny
protested. "You cannot stop like this. What happened to Ruth? --
You must tell me that, at least."
"Oh, well..." Ingrid replied. "Ruth was a spunky girl and she
recovered fully from her ordeal -- she served her full term as
slavegirl and we became lovers -- she was my maid of honour at my
wedding. She returned to New Zealand but we kept in touch and she
visited Paradise Island several times later", Ingrid concluded.
"Oh, I'm so happy for Ruth," Jenny said with a sunny smile. "Do
you think I'm like her?" she asked eagerly. "Yes, Jenny. You're a
spunky girl too -- and I bet that you're almost as great a slut
as she was," Ingrid replied with a chuckle.
"What do you say, Jenny? Shall we continue with some slutty
tutoring?" she asked.
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