Princess Alana

Chapter 18: Domestic Help

Three weeks later, Alana was at the ranch checking the progress of the new facility. The foundation and structure had been finished long ago. The interior spaces had been created and now the workmen were applying the finishes. Since this had been her launching project, she paid particular attention to it to make sure that it was perfect. Striding through the building in her collar, boots and hardhat, she inspected every detail. She gave new instructions to the workmen and reprimanded them when they had ignored old instructions. To the men and women on the job, it was hard to imagine that this naked architect was a slave. To them, she was a slave driver. She demanded perfection. And they gave it to her.

After her initial walk through the building, she went searching for Master Charles to give him an update. It would only take another week until the new facility would be ready for his use and she wanted to let him know that he could start scheduling events for it.

Clomping across the yard in her boots and holding her hardhat in a hand, she spied a familiar face and walked over to talk. "Hi Ted," she said. "How are you adjusting?"

Ted was not in a talkative mood, however. He was lashed in an upright spread-eagle position inside of a frame with all of his limbs pulled tightly toward the corners of the frame. Sprouting from his lips was a little bit of the ball gag that was lodged in his mouth, preventing him from responding to the slave that he used to enjoy in his bed. And dangling beneath him were heavy weights that were suspended by a rope that was tied around the base of his scrotum.

Alana lifted his limp cock in her hand and stroked it with the fingers of her other hand. "Mistress told me why you are here. And I agree with her. Meredith is too special to ignore like that. But don't you worry. We'll take good care of her. And if you behave yourself here, you can come back and help take care of her too."

The cock stiffened instinctively at Alana's touch but she released it when it gained full erection. Then she kissed Ted's cheek and turned to walk away. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

Master Charles was delighted at the news of the progress. "I'll have to call Grace and have you and your sisters join us for the first event."

"Thank you Master," replied Alana appropriately. "I'm sure they will be flattered at the invitation."

Charles walked up to the amazing beauty and reached around her grasping her bottom in both hands and squeezing. "Do you have any idea how valuable you are?"

Alana was taken aback, not by the groping but by the question. She was accustomed to people helping themselves to her body by this point. "No Master. I'm not even sure what you are talking about."

"Well I need to show you some things. Although you have to promise never to tell Grace that I showed these to you."

Alana's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Master, I don't know that I can keep secrets from Mistress."

Charles smiled and patted her on the head. "This is a good secret, girl. But if you feel that you have to tell her, then tell her. What can she do to me? Enslave me?"

Charles led her into his office and pulled out a folder with her name on it. Inside were letters and emails that he spread across the desk. "These are offers to buy you," he said, sending a chill down her spine immediately.

"Oh," she responded.

"Don't worry, girl. She has rejected all of them and has said that she will continue to reject all offers. But you need to see them so that you know how much your owner loves you." He proceeded to lay them out one at a time so that she could look at them. The lowest one that she saw was a million dollars. Each one after that increased in value. She saw a five million dollar one from when she had first been at the ranch and that caused her to gasp.

"Oh," said Charles. "That's pocket change."

Each new email or letter brought a higher value. A man in St. Petersburg offered seven million dollars. A woman in Madrid offered nine million dollars. A couple in Washington State offered eleven million dollars and planned for her to be a gift to their thirteen year old daughter. She was to be a birthday present again.

The second to last offer was dated the day before and was from her client in Nice. He offered seventeen million dollars to own her and had offered to make her available to the ranch on selected occasions.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" asked Charles.

"Yes, Master," replied Alana. "Kind of scary too though."

"Yes, I'm sure it is," he said. "But this last one tops them all."

He laid out the last offer, which was accompanied by a contract and a bill of sale. The offer was for twenty five million dollars and was from a K C Cartwright.

"Wow!" gasped Alana. "That's a lot of money. And I don't think that I even know him."

"Yes it is," agreed Charles. "But it's a her. Not a him."

This elicited another gasp from Alana.

After a month at the ranch, Ted was returned to Grace with assurances that he would take him back and sell him if there were any problems. "I think you'll find him very trainable. We erased him clean and then started to rebuild him. But only a little. We figured you would want to program him yourself. But you will find that he does like wearing maid outfits and he does like sucking cocks. We can take him back and erase that too, though, if you would prefer."

Grace laughed as she tried to picture Ted in a maid's outfit. "No Charles. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'll take him home and call you if I have any questions or problems."

Meredith was freed from all domestic chores and "Edwina" took over the housekeeping. Grace kept Ted in the maid outfit most of the time, but also had him naked at times. This would be a new challenge for her. She knew how to transform women into her toys and tools. But doing the same thing with a man would be an exciting adventure. Should she make him into a slathering, babbling, groveling worthless soul? Should she use him sexually for the gratification of her girls? Should she turn him over to the males that she knew for their entertainment? Maybe she should feminize him. If his body hair was removed and the hair on his head was allowed to grow longer, then breasts would probably look nice on her. Decisions, decisions. She would have to sleep on that.

Chapter 19: Another New Beginning

Grace was almost as excited as the girls as they sped toward the airport. A limousine had picked them up at home and was taking them to a private jet located at a small, private airport outside of town. From there, the jet would deliver all four of them to a Caribbean island for one of Alana's consultations. Grace had gotten to know the owner of the island well over the phone during the previous weeks as terms and conditions were negotiated and established. And she readily accepted the invitation when Katherine Powell invited the rest of her girls to come along. It would be a nice break and she would get to see Alana in action.

Ted would be left behind to tend the yards and continue the work in Alana's house. Grace had ordered Ted to quit his job so that he had more time for menial tasks at home. His current project was stripping the floor in Alana's kitchen of the hideous linoleum so that hardwood could be laid.

Grace was not concerned about Ted escaping in her absence. Where would he go? Besides, she didn't care if he escaped or not. She felt no affection for the man and knew that she could easily replace him if he disappeared. The only risk was that he could go to the police, but she thought that risk was minimal. Charles had so many incriminating photos and videos of the man that Ted would be foolish to try to make his slavery public. He would become a laughing stock if the documentation was ever released. Instead of being viewed as a victim, he would be seen as a pervert after the pictures of him involved in gay sex and him giving a blowjob to a horse were leaked.

Katherine had assured Grace that the runway would be secluded and that the staff on the jet was accustomed to naked slaves, so she could bring her girls naked if she desired. Grace had her three nude beauties in the back of the limousine as they sped toward the airport. "It sure makes packing for a trip easier," she mused to herself. Each girl had a small bag with a toothbrush and some cosmetics but nothing else. Grace could have even packed all of their things in her suitcase but decided that it would look cute to have each of them walking around with nothing but a handbag slung over their shoulders.

The car finally pulled alongside a sleek silver jet standing alone on the tarmac. The driver opened the door and held out his hand to assist Grace who got out, followed by the three girls wearing nothing but collars, their handbags and smiles.

"Oh, my gosh!" exclaimed Kelly as she saw the jet. "This is so exciting!"

Grace led her flock to the staircase and then onto the plane where a near-naked attendant greeted them. "Mistress sends her greetings," she said, "and wishes you a pleasant flight. She said to tell you that she would meet you at the airstrip when we land."

Grace eyed the girl admiringly and noted that Katherine Powell had good taste in slaves and a playful sense of humor. The girl wore high heels, a tiny apron around her waist that did not even extend low enough to cover her bald sex, a flight attendant's cap, and a name badge. The badge, however, was pinned to the girl's breast. A gold ring was fitted into the flight attendant's right nipple. The name tag was pinned through the piercing in her left breast and announced that her name was Amy. Amy's breasts were a bit smaller than what Grace preferred in her slaves but were nicely formed.

"Thank you, Amy. We look forward to the trip and to meeting your mistress."

Everyone strapped into their seats and the plane was soon in the air. Amy tended to everyone's needs, providing refreshments or a tongue as desired. Within four hours, the plan was descending and all four women had their noses pressed to the windows to admire the bright blue water below and to try to catch a first glimpse of their destination.

"Welcome to our island," their hostess greeted them. "I'm Katherine Powell, but you can call me KC." This caused Alana to raise her eyebrows. That name sounded familiar but she couldn't place it.

KC stepped forward and hugged Grace, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Grace did not mind this uninvited intimacy at all, though. Their hostess was an elegant and beautiful woman and was probably about Grace's own age. Plus, she was half naked, which won Grace's immediate approval. Their hostess was wearing a sarong that was draped over one shoulder and left one breast naked and barely covered her sex. She was wearing what an X-rated version of what Tarzan's Jane might wear.

"We are rather informal," she explained as she saw Kelly's jaw hanging and saw her eyes glued to the naked breast. In Kelly's defense, she had only seen slaves being exposed. The only exposure that she had seen a master or mistress was in a bedroom or some other venue where they intended to have sex.

Grace smiled. "I love the effect. It becomes you. I'm sure we will love it here and I wanted to thank you for allowing us all to come."

Katherine smiled. "On this island, you can cum as often as you like. But we do have some rules here. I will have Amy take the girls to their quarters and we can return to mine to discuss them."

KC and Grace enjoyed some lemonade together on the veranda of KC's villa and gazed out at the blue sea. The hostess explained that the island was owned by a group of wealthy women who enjoyed the wealth and the time to dabble in slavery. Slaves were brought here and could be played with without all of the hassles and prying eyes and judgments that were normally experienced elsewhere in the world. Although technically, the island was part of one of the lesser countries of the Caribbean, officials never visited so it was almost like owning your own country.

On the island, slaves had specific owners but were available to all. Slaves were to be kept bound in some way at all times, but most of the time that meant that their hands were tied in front of them. It was too difficult for them to work with any other type of bondage. She admitted, however, that this rule might have to be broken for the "lovely young architect."

"She really is a beauty. Wherever did you find her?"

Grace smiled. "Thank you. And yes she is beautiful. I guess I just live in a good neighborhood. She lives next door."

"Oh," responded KC. "So you didn't buy her?"

"No. I captured her. One of the best things I have ever done."

KC went on to explain that there was a form of hierarchy of mistresses. The governing council wore the sarong over one shoulder, although they were allowed to wear less if they desired. Full members wore the sarong tied around their waist, leaving their upper body bare. Initiates or trial members wore nothing.

"I will be asking you if you want to join at the end of your visit. You will be able to experience the island paradise until then. And as a guest, you are not obligated to follow our guest code. But you should feel free to consider yourself an initiate if you would like.

Grace listened to all of this intently and realized that she had just been invited to strip off her clothes. "Oh well," she thought. "Might as well go native."

"Thank you," replied Grace, "I'm sure that I would be delighted to join your society. And I think that I would like to experience it as an initiate, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," smiled KC. And she watched as Grace arose and removed her clothing, folding it neatly on a nearby chair. Once naked, Grace slowly turned, displaying herself to her hostess.

"You look magnificent," commented KC. "You look positively ownable!"

Grace smiled at what she assumed to be a compliment and even found herself blushing slightly. "Thank you, KC," she replied demurely.

"I mean it. It's a good thing that you aren't bound in some way or you would be snapped up in a heartbeat by half the owners here."

KC led Grace on a tour of the compound. Then they walked to the top of the hill and KC was able to point out the rest of the facilities. The whole island was visible from the crest and the sight was breathtaking.

"This is such a wonderful place," remarked Grace. "So peaceful." That last comment, however, was interrupted by a shriek coming from another small cluster of villas.

"That would be Lizbeth. She gets a little carried away at times," said KC. "I'll have to have another talk with her."

"Surely she isn't torturing one of the slaves," said an aghast Grace.

"No, no, nothing like that," replied the hostess. "We don't allow anything heavy here. Certainly no blood or any level of pain that would cause that kind of scream. She was probably threatening one of the girls with one of her snakes or tarantulas. She's a little odd."

They wandered back down the hill to a rickety old building and stopped. "This will be Alana's challenge. This is our meeting hall and it's been in need of something for years. When I heard of Alana's work, I knew she would be the one to make it special. But I'm afraid she will have to knock it down and start from scratch."

Grace nodded as she observed the decrepit building. "I would guess so. It doesn't look like there's much to work with on this one."

KC turned toward Grace and reached out resting her hands on the woman's shoulders before sliding them down her arms. "I just had to do that. You really are quite beautiful. May I?"

Grace smiled nervously and nodded slowly. She had just given permission for her hostess to inspect her as if she were a slave herself. KC's hands traveled back up the arms and then back down again. Grace's arms were raised and then her hands were placed together behind her neck. KC walked slowly around Grace trailing her fingers lightly over the flesh.

"Were you ever a slave?" asked KC as her fingers lingered on the soft swells of Grace's bottom.

"No," she replied. "My husband and I used to play games where I was sometimes the submissive. But I was never a slave."

"Pity," responded KC as she continued her tour. She moved back in front of Grace and lifted each breast in her hands, bouncing them slightly as if weighing them. "Wonderful. So heavy and so firm."

KC went on to squeeze the orbs lightly, enjoying the way the flesh oozed from between her fingers. Then she leaned down and flickered her tongue over each nipple and blew on them, causing them to stiffen. "They are so wonderfully responsive."

Then she lowered the breasts again and squatted down in front of her guest letting her fingers dance across Grace's belly. They finally stopped at the little patch of fur and she tugged lightly on the brown hairs there. "You should consider shaving this. You have such a wonderful body and it would make you look so much sleeker and sexier."

Grace remained silent, feeling herself trembling slightly as her hostess continued the inspection. Grace closed her eyes as she felt the fingers gliding over her labia, knowing that KC would quickly discover how aroused she was. Then her eyes flew open wide as she felt a wet finger being rubbed over her lips and pressed into her mouth.

"You are beautiful. And I love the way that you are so aroused," said KC as she rubbed her finger on Grace's tongue, cleaning it.

KC had not yet finalized her plan. Her primary objective had been to own Alana. She figured that the first step was to get her to the island. And she thought that she might have a talk with Grace and make the offer to her directly and that Grace might agree to sell Alana once she saw the paradise that would be the new home for her slavegirl.

Now, however, after getting to know Grace, so many possibilities were presenting themselves. She could allow Grace to be one of the mistresses in residence or to be an occasional resident of the island. But she might also want to enslave this mature but very beautiful woman, along with her three gorgeous slaves. "So many decisions," thought KC as she took Grace's hand and led the confused woman along the road back to the main compound.

There were no cars on the island. The only methods of travel were walking or pony carts. One of the decorative carts passed the two mistresses as they walked toward their destination and Grace enjoyed the sight of two equally decorative ponygirls. Each was decked out with matching white leather harnesses. Each wore a bit and bridle. And each wore a white plume above her head. Reins were attached to nipple rings to guide the girl and the driver held a long buggy whip in her hand, but was not seen to use it.

"Amazing," uttered Grace.

"Aren't they spectacular?" asked KC. "Are they your first ponygirls?"

"Well they're the first that I have seen like this. I've seen some being trained, but I've never seen them in action. They are beautiful. And so well trained."

"Maybe we can have your girls trained for it during your visit."

"That would be very nice."

They passed Alana as they got close to KC's villa. She was dangling upside down with rope around her ankles and her legs spread wide apart. Her hands were bound behind her with her hands on the opposing elbows and there was a ball gag in her mouth. Grace would not have even recognized her slave if it weren't for the platinum blonde hair that hung downward, looking like a powder puff. A mistress was alternating between playing with Alana's very exposed sex and flogging her. There were already several pinkening welts on her back, thighs and breasts.

"Are you enjoying my pet?" asked Grace.

"Very much," replied the mistress with a British accent. "The way she wiggles and moans is delicious."

"Grace, I would like you to meet Fiona," said KC, introducing the two women. "Fiona, this is Grace. She is thinking about joining us and brought her three slaves with her. The one you are striping will be designing us a new meeting hall."

"Delighted to meet you, Grace," as she stuffed the handle of the whip in Alana's sex so she could shake hands. "You brought us very fine meat. I hope to enjoy each of your girls before you leave us."

Grace smiled and shook Fiona's hand. "Feel free to help yourself."

The next one they encountered was Kelly. She was bent backward over a padded bar with her legs and arms spread wide. She looked almost like a contortionist because of the extreme way she was doubled over. She too wore a gag and, from the looks of it, the penis gag reached far back in her mouth. Her breasts were bound and were turning a bright red as the attending mistress pinched and teased the nipples.

Grace walked over and ran her palm over one of the breasts, feeling the heat. "This won't damage her, will it?"

"Of course not," replied the mistress who Grace learned was named Carla. "These breasts are too magnificent to even think about damaging. I promise that I will be very careful with her."

Finally, they made their way back to KC's home and Grace realized that she had just spent the last couple of hours walking around fully naked and being introduced to people. She should have felt self-conscious about her nudity but she realized that it had not embarrassed her at all. "I guess I know how the girls have adapted," she thought to herself.

"Have you ever considered making a business out of what you do with girls?" asked KC as she and Grace were once again on the veranda but with cocktails this time.

"But I have made a business out of the girls," she replied. "A very lucrative business. And all of them are involved in one way or another."

"I'm sorry," said KC. "I wasn't clear with my question. What I meant to say was that you have a wonderful talent for procuring extremely beautiful and sexual girls and then training them. Have you ever considered making a business out of that? Have you ever considered selling some of your girls and procuring new ones to train?"

Grace was not offended by the question. Charles had already let her know that she could be filthy rich just by selling the ones she had and retiring. But that wasn't what she wanted. She had claimed the ones she wanted and meant to keep them.

"I do have a male for sale," responded Grace. "But I have become rather attached to the girls." And then she chuckled. "Or they have become attached to me."

"I do hope that, if you ever change your mind, you will contact me. I would buy the whole lot of them."

"That's very flattering," said Grace. "I will keep that in mind. I'm curious. How many people inhabit this island?"

"Oh, it varies," responded KC. "Right now, we probably have twenty mistresses and a few more slaves. But there are times when we have over a hundred people living here. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious. I wanted to know more about what I might be getting myself into."

KC reached over and squeezed one of Grace's breasts. "You are getting yourself into more than you ever imagined possible."

Grace sucked in her breath at the touch, feeling the warm hand of her hostess claiming her breast. "They certainly are accepting in this group. They seem to welcome newcomers quite readily," she thought.

KC then stood and set her glass down. "Come," she said, which prompted Grace to do the same. The two women bathed together in a luxurious large tub and Grace surrendered to the manipulations of her host who washed and shampooed her. "I could get used to this kind of pampering," thought Grace.

They walked to the dining hall where all of the other inhabitants of the island were gathered. KC led her guest to a table and two slaves immediately appeared and knelt beside them. One of them was Amy from the flight who knelt next to Grace's chair. She had lost all of the accoutrements since the flight and now was totally naked with her hands bound in front of her.

Grace looked around at the women seated at the tables and remembered the hierarchy which she had nicknamed "one breast, two breast, pussy" in her mind. One breast was the nickname for the most senior mistresses and she saw about ten of them. Two breast was the nickname for the next level. These were the ones who could wear a sarong around their waists but had to keep their chest naked and there were almost the same number of them. Pussy was the label for the newcomers like herself who wore not clothing at all. She saw only one woman other than herself who fit into that category.

She glanced around for her girls. She saw Alana kneeling beside a one-breast and eventually spotted Kelly kneeling beside a two-breast. But she hadn't seen Meredith since they got off the plane earlier that day and she was starting to worry. She kept scanning the room and finally sighted her beautiful red-haired slave. She was bound to a table with food piled on her and around her.

"If you're wondering about your Meredith," said KC, "she's dessert tonight. I think you might enjoy this."

Grace glanced back at Meredith to get a closer look and to try to understand what the hostess had just said. Meredith was bound in a very uncomfortable looking position. Her arms were pinned behind her and appeared to be bound to her calves, which were tucked beneath her leaving her thighs spread wide. Her mouth was wide open and Grace assumed that some kind of device had been placed between her upper and lower teeth to keep her that way. Piled high on her breasts were enormous amounts of whipped cream making her look like some kind of mammary-freak wet dream. Berries and sliced fruits and bananas were placed decoratively on the table beside her, along with bowls of various sauces. But what really caught Grace's attention was Meredith's belly. She looked as if she were two or three months pregnant the way that her belly was protruding.

"She looks quite full," Grace said, trying to act nonchalant about the condition of her slavegirl.

"Oh, she is," agreed KC. "She's marinating the fruits. The dessert chef spent most of the afternoon working on her. I understand that she's able to handle a lot."

"What do you mean?" asked Grace.

"Well, the report that I got was that the chef became concerned after she had filled her with more than he thought she could handle. She was worried that she was pushing things into her womb. So she reached in to start pulling the stuff out and…"

Grace interrupted. "Reached in? Reached inside Meredith?"

"Of course," replied KC. "It's done all the time. But what she found was that she was just able to handle more than she expected. So she stuffed her again and stuffed her tightly. She looks so cute like that, doesn't she?"

Grace looked back at her "pregnant" slavegirl and had to admit that she did look adorable, even if she also looked very uncomfortable.

Grace never got a chance to talk to Meredith that night. The one time that she approached the dessert tray, another mistress was sucking blackberries out of Meredith's mouth. That turned out to be why Meredith's mouth was pried open. Each time the berries were gone, someone refilled her mouth to let diners suck the fruits out and enjoy Meredith's soft lips.

Alana got to work the next day and she used this opportunity to teach Meredith the tricks of her trade. Keeping with the traditions of the island, their hands were bound in front of them but enough chain was left between their hands to let them do whatever they wished. Fiona oversaw their activities as Meredith learned how to use a surveyor's scope, how to take notes using the appropriate symbols and nomenclature, and how to take pictures from the best angles so that all of the needed information would be recorded.

Fiona mostly relaxed in a lawn chair that had been carried by the two girls but would occasionally interrupt their work "to make things a little more fun." One of her ideas of fun was to have the girls bend over while she inserted butt plugs into them with flowing tails that would swish against the backs of their calves as they moved about. Alana's was a direct match of the platinum hair on top of her head and, while Meredith's tail was red, it was not a very close match. The tails took some getting used to but soon the architect and apprentice were back at work.

The next diversion for the girls was a bit and bridle. Leather straps fit around their heads and across their foreheads and held the padded bar that ran across their mouths and between their teeth. This took a lot of getting used to and severely impeded their efforts since their conversations were reduced to nonsensical sounds.

"Aren't you the prettiest ponies?" praised Fiona before giving each naked rump a pat and sending them back to work.

The girls did manage to make progress by using a combination of garbled words and hand gestures. Eventually, however, it started to rain. "Maybe tomorrow we can get some real work done," thought Alana. Alana and Meredith quickly packed the instruments and papers into the two waterproof cases and prepared to leave.

"Not so fast," warned Fiona. "Let's get a little training in while we can, shall we?" Fiona stepped in front of each girl and placed a nipple clamp on each breast. The girls howled with each new clamp. Each had saw-tooth jaws that bit cruelly into their tender flesh and from each hung a tiny bell.

"Step lively, girls," instructed Fiona as she slashed a crop across Alana's vulnerable bottom. "Raise those knees high. We'll have you prancing in no time." Each girl had a choice as they walked back to the compound as the storm continued to strengthen. They could either raise their knees with each step so that their upper legs were parallel to the ground or they could endure the bite of the crop with each infraction. They quickly learned the movements of prancing.

"We'll be here forever, Mistress!" complained a very frustrated Alana once they were returned to Grace in the guest villa. "It was nothing but an endless string of distractions!"

"Maybe they want it to take forever, pet," replied Grace. "I know I would do anything I could to prolong my time with you if I were them. By the way… nice tails."

Alana hmmmphed and slapped her hands down against her thighs in frustration. It always seemed that there was an answer to all of her concerns, regardless of whether or not the answer made any sense.

"Come, little one," commanded Grace as she sat and reached out her arms with her palms up. Alana dutifully knelt before her owner and positioned her breasts in her Mistress' hands. Grace motioned with her head for Meredith to kneel beside Alana and then shifted to the side to be able to hold a breast of each girl.

"You are both very special. And I'm not surprised that they want to keep you here longer." She gave each breast a loving squeeze. "In fact, I get the sense that we are all very special. I'm not sure that they are used to seeing mistresses and slaves who love one another. Maybe they're trying to learn from us."

Grace then led the two girls to the bathroom where a huge tub awaited them. Meredith drew the bath and then the three women slipped into the hot water to luxuriate for close to an hour. Grace had her two girls bathe her and delighted when they took it upon themselves to pleasure her. With Meredith's fingers toying with her sex and Alana's lips on her breasts, it did not take long for Grace to climax.

"Mmmmm, I wonder where Kelly is," Grace thought as she leaned back against Meredith who was cradling her head between her firm breasts. "Too bad she missed this tender moment."

Kelly was, at the moment, being prepared for dinner. In actuality, she was being prepared to be a serving platter for dinner. She was suspended between four poles with arms and legs outstretched. At the moment, a padded bench was supporting her back so that the various hors d'oevres could be placed on her decoratively. She had already been warned, however, that when cocktail hour arrived, the bench would be removed and three metal spikes would replace it. This would ensure that Kelly held her body completely flat and did not sag or slump at all because, if she did, the spikes would jab her and correct her positioning.

Kelly felt fingers placing crackers and vegetables on her belly. She jumped slightly as she felt cheese being scooped and piled onto her belly button but stopped moving when the chef pinched her nipple hard and leaned down to tell her that she would serve the nipple on a cracker to someone if she moved again. Kelly believed her.

Caviar was scooped onto her nipples and then patted down. Additionally, crackers were arranged on her upper chest. Shrimp were arranged at the base of her breasts. She had never felt so inanimate in all her life. She really was nothing more than a serving tray to this woman.

Most of the preparations were complete and Kelly was allowed to rest for the moment until it was time for the guests to arrive. The chef went on to prepare her other dishes and Kelly just prayed that none of the slaves was being used as a baking dish.

The first diners started to arrive and it was time to wheel out the appetizers. The chef returned to Kelly with a plate full of carrots and celery. One by one, she pushed the vegetables into Kelly. Quickly, Kelly felt full but carrots and celery stalks kept being pushed in, stretching Kelly wider and wider.

"There is no need for a dip tonight," explained the chef as she leaned down and kissed Kelly. "I'm sure they will enjoy your marinade." Then she squatted down, removed the padded bench, and replaced it with the three metal spikes. Kelly was wheeled out to the dining room, much to the delight of the gathering mistresses.

Grace had to chuckle as she saw the predicament that her daughter was in. Thankfully, she knew that Kelly was in great shape and was capable of withstanding this torment. It would not be muscles that failed her if she ended up betting stabbed by the spears. It would be her concentration.

The mistresses surrounding her and reaching for various hors d'oevres seemed intent on distracting her. Instead of simply pulling out a stalk of celery or a carrot, each diner would slide it in and out of her sex numerous times. One even toyed with her clit as she did that, explaining to those around her that, "this freshens the marinade."

Kelly ended up jerking slightly as the vegetables were moved in and out and gasped as she felt the sharp metal tips jabbing at her back. She straightened out her posture just as the women discovered the caviar. Cracker after cracker was scraped across her sensitive nipples as the mistresses tried to capture each precious fish egg. She heard herself moaning but tried very hard to keep her body straight to avoid the spears below.

Thankfully, the food was disappearing from her body and she knew she would soon be free of torment. But just as she thought that things would get better, they got much, much worse.

"We can't let all of this caviar flavor go to waste," exclaimed one of the mistresses as she leaned down and sucked as much of Kelly's right breast into her mouth as she could.

"I agree," replied a second mistress. "Waste not, want not." Then she dipped her head and sucked the left nipple, along with a generous amount of breast into her mouth. This caused Kelly to lose her concentration and she immediately felt two of the spears jab at her tender flesh.

"And we can't let this carrot go to waste, either," announced a third mistress. Unknown to Kelly, all of the smaller vegetables had been eaten, leaving a carrot that would have qualified as a Burpee poster child still in her sex. The mistress slid it out until only the tip was within the folds of Kelly's labia. Then she slid it slowly forward, aiming it carefully until it touched Kelly's cervix. She kept pushing, slowly but insistently as Kelly growled and writhed. She was getting constantly jabbed at this point but almost didn't care. The pleasure from the lips on her nipples was mingling with the pain from the spears. The carrot was a totally different matter. It had its own pleasure and pain. Once it was clear that the carrot had penetrated Kelly's womb, the two suckling mistresses reached under the slave to support her so that she didn't damage herself. Within moments, she shrieked and stiffened and then her cart was wheeled back into the kitchen where the spikes were removed and she was allowed to recover before being released.

"Oh my god, Mom!" exclaimed Kelly later that night. "It was so intense!!!"

"I could tell," smiled Grace as she held her daughter's breasts in her palms as she liked to do with Alana. "Did you like it?"

"Oh god no!" she replied emphatically. "But I can't wait to do it again!"

"Grace leaned forward and kissed Kelly's forehead, giving each nipple a tweak. "You are a beautiful slavegirl."

Chapter 20: A New World Order

KC and Grace took a walk the next morning. "How have you been enjoying our island?" asked KC.

"I think it's fabulous," replied Grace. "It's so beautiful and your entertainment is so… interesting."

KC laughed. "Yes, your daughter did give us a hot performance last night, didn't she? How are the girls reacting to it?"

"Mixed, I would say," responded Grace, honestly. "They are not used to pain as a stimulant or as entertainment. I generally use pain only for punishment. Hey are having to adjust."

"Well they seem to be adjusting nicely," smiled KC. "And they seem to be quite popular. Which one is your favorite?"

"Oh, I love them all," replied Grace. "It would be too difficult to select a favorite."

"But surely you have one who you view as your favorite toy or best pet."

"They really are each my favorite in different ways. One is my daughter, so that makes her my favorite. One is so loving and caring that she is my favorite. And one is so beautiful and sexual that she is my favorite. I really couldn't single out any of them as my overall favorite."

"Alana must be the one who you called 'so sexual'", observed KC. "She is definitely that. You must be the envy of every slave owner in the world and she must be the number one item on all of their Christmas lists."

Grace laughed at the thought of Santa receiving so many wish lists asking for Alana to be gift-wrapped under the tree on Christmas morning. "I suppose so. She's very special."

"Yes she is," agreed KC. I had heard about her as a slave before I even heard about her designs. I even made an offer on her to buy her. But now that I have seen her, I can see why you didn't accept the offer. She's worth much more."

"That's very flattering," commented Grace. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be able to tell her that story."

"I don't mind."

"I should tell you that you have had some stiff competition," Grace went on. "I have never seen any of the offers, but Charles tells me that one person even offered twenty five million dollars for Alana."

KC hesitated, not knowing whether or not to continue this topic, but then sighed. "That was me."

Grace gasped and then blushed again. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I probably should have at least looked at the offer. And I should have written you a letter thanking you for the offer. And…" Her babbling was quickly cut short by KC stepping before her and placing a finger on Grace's lips to silence her.

KC leaned forward and kissed Grace, raising her hands to hold each of Grace's exposed breasts. "Hush."

Grace's head was spinning. Once again, she felt herself being handled the way that she handled her girls and it was very unsettling.

"We have much to learn from you," started KC. "I revoke my offer. I want you to own Alana. And I want you to own Meredith and Kelly, also."

"I'm not sure I understand," replied Grace with a furrowed brow.

"I mean that you and your slaves have something beautiful. It's a slavery with love. I wanted that for this place. That's why I bought this island." KC paused and sighed. "But over the years, it has changed. New people have come into the society with different views. It's not the same any more. Help me change it."

Grace was still reeling as KC's hands still held her breasts and she felt two fingers from each hand closing together to tighten on her nipples. "How can I change it?" asked Grace as the fingers sent delicious thrills through her body.

"By being you," explained KC. "And by continuing to own your girls and by bringing them back here. I plan to change the charter. I'm eliminating the current hierarchy." Fingers started to roll the erect nipples back and forth and stretch them away from Grace's chest.

"Oooohhhh!!!" gasped Grace. "That feels good! But I still don't understand."

KC tilted her head down and kissed one of Grace's nipples. "I'm disbanding the governing council. And from now on, there will be two levels of mistresses. There will be you and me on one level and then there will be all of the others. Although I will need you to teach me how to treat slaves like you do. And, of course, there will be the slaves."

"Wow," gasped Grace as KC moved her lips to her other breast. "I don't know what to say. So does that mean that I will be a one-breast?"

KC gave a look of confusion and then Grace giggled and told her hostess how she had described the hierarchy of the island to her girls. KC laughed and nodded. "You can be a one-breast, two-breast, or pussy. You can even be a no-breast, if you like. You figure out how it should work. From now on this island is ruled by Queen Grace and Queen Katherine."

Grace smiled. Queen Grace sounded good. And that meant that Alana would finally truly be a princess.

But she needed one more thing before she could agree. Alana had a house to finish. She described how important this was to her slavegirl and KC came up with a plan that made Grace smile broadly. KC and Grace sent a planeload of slavegirls to Alana's home where they spent several weeks completing the changes with the help of some contractors who actually knew what they were doing. In the end, almost everyone was happy. The girls had a wonderful time. The contractors voiced no complaints and were generally seen leaving the worksite with grins on their faces. The teenage boys and girls from the neighborhood seemed a lot happier and spent a lot less time in front of the television while the slavegirls were working on the house and landscaping. The husbands clearly approved and spent much more time working on their yards, shifting from front yard to back yard frequently, depending on where the girls moved. There were just a few of the women in the neighborhood who did not appreciate the giggling and productive new workforce.

The End, I think.

The End