Slave Ship

by Mark Andrews

  I purchased an island. Yes a tropical island in the South Pacific and there, Allison and I set up our dream. She is legally my wife but, at least for the moment, she wants to remain my slave. And those of the girls who opted to join us are also slaves. As Juma said, “we’ve become so used to being sex-slaves, the idea of going back to a normal existence seems tame...”

  We all live in the big house I built on the top of the hill on the island but at its base is a small racetrack - and guess who the ponies are? Yes, the girls are now ponies as well as sex-slaves - and they love it! Even Allison, cousin to the Duke of Norfolk.

  Henry and Adam came with me of course as well as some other of the trainers but the rest went their own way. Adam is my secretary (at least nominally) and Henry and the others remain as trainers - also nominally although they do take the girls for exercises and other duties and Henry organises their duty rosters.

  Those, like Allison, who crave pain, get it - and in full measure; those who are just into the sex get that and no more. Of course, the idea of slavery involves force. They are now voluntary slaves but their satisfaction in their slave-hood comes from compulsion and so punishments are still ordered for failure. Now though, a girl can opt out any time she likes and when she does, I pay her a substantial sum that is vastly more than she might have earned in another life.

  It is a real joy to go down to the racetrack with Ali or one or more other of my real friends who has come to visit and watch as five slavegirls (and sometimes Allison is one of them) race around the track, hands up behind her shoulders to grasp the pulling-bar of the gig in which rides Henry, Adam, or another slavegirl.

  There are about fifty of us on the island and the girls are of course permanently naked. I don’t usually bother with clothes either unless we have guests. The trainers (all of whom still retain their muscular physiques) have the girls at whim - the girls want it that way for remember they are psychologically still slaves in their own minds.

  Allison and I return to England at times but we don’t stay long. The island is our home and there we enjoy a lifestyle millions dream of but very, very few every imagine is possible. I am fortunate. I have a beautiful and loving wife who is my slave and I have thirty or more other naked and beautiful girls who would be at my beck and call if I wanted them. I don’t, not because they are attractive to me, but because Allison is all I want.

  Mind you, I still find it pleasing to have them around and to watch them at their duties: housework, gardening, pony-training and the like but I don’t need them for my sexual pleasure. Henry and Adam and the other trainers do of course and I know the training and other work details get constantly interrupted by a pair of them indulging in an impromptu sex session - which is usually emulated by the rest in the detail. Sex is the reason for our island and we all enjoy it freely and with no inhibitions at all.

  And torture? Yes, when a girl wants it although she never asks, of course. It is up to her trainer to judge her needs and then “order” her to be “punished”.

  Since we are so isolated, Bill Strange agreed to accompany us all to the island to look after our health and Shaun also joined us as general handyman and inventor of new tortures to please those of the girls who delight in pain.

  Will we return to the real world? I doubt it. Not in the immediate future anyway. We have an idyllic existence where we are and for the moment we are quite happy to remain that way...

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