Serving My Mistress on the island of Tranpica – My slave Story
The island of Tropica, a tropical isle about 200 miles south-west of the Dominican Republic, is a land ruled solely by females. Here, male creatures have zero status and are lower than bugs and insects. Women rule with an iron fist and males are kept purely to be used as slaves. It is not uncommon for each superior female to have 4, 5 or even 6 slaves in her captivity. Usually, they will have one slave for domestic duties, one for cooking, another for sexual pleasure etc.
Lady Catriona was one such Goddess. With a harem of 4 slaves, she had her every whim taken care of. Each male creature scurried around at her feet, trying their best not to anger her or annoy her. She was a particularly cold-hearted Mistress who revelled in the suffering of her male slaves. There are no rights for slaves of course. No rules or laws governing what can or can’t be done to them. They are the property of their owner who can do as she sees fit and Lady Catriona uses harsh punishments and has a quick temper when she is displeased.
That is why when her slaves heard the cellar door open and the basement flooded with light, their hearts began to beat faster. They had no idea what she had instore for them, what kind of mood she was in or what her plans were.
The click of her heels on the stone steps was deafening in the cramped basement. A row of 5 cages was secured against the far wall. Four of these had a slave crammed into them. The other one was empty. Slave Emmet had collapsed with exhaustion while carrying boulders up a steep hill about a mile from the house on the outskirts of Lady Catriona’s property. She had tried beating him with a riding crop to get him up but when that failed she had simply left him there. That was three weeks ago now so she presumed him to be dead. No matter, there was a slave auction in a few days so she would pick up another creature there.
Descending the stairs, her slaves avoided her gaze for fear of being singled out. She was not a morning person and no one wanted to be the focus of her attention till she had her coffee at least. She walked over to the row of cages with purpose, a deep scowl etched on her face. Each slaves head was bowed and their gaze fixed firmly on the floor. She walked up and down the floor, peering into each cage as she did so. She stopped outside Slave Rolan’s and reached over and slid the heavy iron bolt back that held the door closed. It thundered back with a clang the door opened. Catriona spun around without a word and headed back upstairs. About halfway up she spoke without even looking back
Was the only word she uttered and disappeared through the door. Rolan crawled from his cage. A night stuck in the cramped box had made his joints stiff and he frantically tried to loosen them off and get upstairs. Keeping her waiting was not a good idea.
At the top of the stairs, he crawled quickly to the table where Catriona was already seated. She was enjoying a breakfast of pancakes, covered in syrup with ripe strawberries, blueberries and a cup of fresh orange juice. Rolan knelt beside his Queen on all fours and bowed his head and waited. It took 15 minutes for her to finish her breakfast. She casually scraped the contents of what she hadn’t eaten onto the floor and ordered Rolan to eat them from the floor, which he did without hesitation.
She stood up and walked to the other end of the kitchen. It was all done in white, with spotless worktops, a stainless steel cooker top and hood and light blue marble tiles. Sun streamed in from the large open windows. Catriona was wearing a white bikini that showed off her perfectly toned physique and had a see-through wrap skirt on a well. White diamante flip flops complimented her outfit. She padded over to the balcony and clicked her fingers to signal Rolan to follow her out. He did so and watched as she lay down on a sun lounger. It was stiflingly hot out today. At least 30 degrees he thought. She lay under the umbrella and placed a pair of 300Luna Armani sunglasses over her beautiful green eyes.
Roland picked up the 6-foot bamboo cane with large feather leaves attached at the end and began to slowly fan Catorina. She relaxed on the lounger, shielded from the sun by a large parasol while her poor slave stood in the burning, stifling heat.
Her tanned, glistening amazon body made his cock swell in the chastity cage she made all her male slaves wear. It was extremely uncomfortable but he ignored it and concentrated on the task at hand. After half an hour, she spoke
Rolan placed the fan gently on the ground and hurried to the kitchen and poured a glass of fresh orange and lemonade and brought it back out. He kneeled beside Lady Catarina and held the glass up to her.
It was 12.30 in the afternoon and after being locked in his cage all night with only a bowl of stale water, Rolan hadn’t had any breakfast. His stomach growled and his thirst was raging. He stared at the glass he held in the palm of his outstretched arms. Little beads of condensation formed on it and ran down the sides and onto his hands. His mouth felt like sandpaper as he gazed at them. Occasionally she reached over and took a sip but not once did she acknowledge Rolan or show any concern for the fact he had not received any food or water today. That was not her problem.
Eventually, she had finished sunbathing and went back inside. She clicked her fingers for Rolan to follow her. He did so as she entered the house and pointed to the bathroom
Rolan went to the bathroom and began to run her a hot bubble bath while she sat on the cream leather settee flicking through a magazine. The deep jacuzzi bath filled up nicely with hot water and soapy bubbles.
When it was ready, he exited the bathroom and stood at the doorway.
“You’re bath is ready Lady Catorina”
She tossed her magazine aside and walked to the room
“About time,” she said.
She had already stripped her bikini off and was wearing a silk dressing gown. She slid it off and she was naked. Her 36C breasts were perfect and pert. Her washboard stomach and pierced navel were prominent and her perfectly sculptured ass, honed from hours of yoga and squats, was a thing of beauty.
Without breaking stride, she walked to the bath. She didn’t care that her male creatures saw her naked. They were in chastity. What were they going to do? Besides, they knew their place. His elbows b his side and his forearms out in front of him, Catarina placed her dressing gown on them for him to hold and then slipped into her bath. For the next 45 minutes, she soaked in the tub, lifting her leg out and stroking it and dipping her head in and out of the water, all the while Rolan stood stock still.
When she had finished, she stepped from the bath and took a towel from the rack and bent over at the waist so her hair fell in front of her. Wrapping the towel around her head and tossing it back, she took the dressing gown from Rolan’s arms and put it on. She tied it with a loose knot at her navel and exited the room. She opened the cellar door and without a word looked at Rolan. He knew what was expected.
He went down the stairs and crawled into his cage. The other slaves, locked in their cages all day, were on all fours with eyes fixed on the floor, daring not move or complain they had been locked up all day with no food.
Rolan was exhausted from being on the heat all day and he collapsed on the floor. With a tut and a shake of her head, she closed the door and slid the heavy bolt back across, locking the door securely. She ascended the staircase and closed the door, plunging the room into darkness, leaving her slaves until she needed one of them again.
If you think being dominated and owned by a real-life mistress is an easy thing then think again. When you cross paths with som eof these superior strong willed, authority figure type of women you soon know who i sin charge and should always be aware that these female dominants stop at nothing to get exactly what they want