Gerda 11    Atomage sup. 13



THE STORY SO FAR: Gerda, in love
with Guy, le Compte de Rhislain, goes to
his island in the Mediterranean for a
holiday, only to discover he runs a large
training establishment for millionaires'
slaves. After ten weeks, she has passed her
first 'exam', and despite her previous
repulsion, is now finding her slavehood
strangely beneficial and exciting.

Very soon Gerda realised that the
successful passing of her first
examination meant that her training
became more severe. Now she was
allowed only one thickness of rubber
for her daily whipping, and soon her
bottom was permanently red and
smarting from the 150 strokes she
received every morning. Her demerits,
also, were increased for the slightest
infraction of the rules. Within a week
she had chalked up the fatal 100, and
was ordered to report to Miss Dodds,
le Compte's overseer, for her
punishment. She knelt down meekly as
the woman studied her demerit chart.

"Dear me, slave Gerda, such little
violations; surely you're losing your
concentratrion? Forgetting to kneel
before leaving the room, splitting a
finger of your glove, appearing with
powder visible on your black suit -
quite atrocious. I think to help you
concentrate we'll put you into a
chastity chain for twenty-four hours! "
Inwardly Gerda winced. Her friend
Yvette had worn one recently and the
final hours had been torture as there
was no way she could relieve herself in
the toilet. Miss Dodds signed the
requisite form and instructed Gerda to
report to the preparation chamber for
her punishment.
Her spirits sank even lower when she
saw instructor No. 7 was on duty there.
He was one of the meanest, and she
knew she could expect no mercy from
him. She handed him the instructions
and stood to attention, her wrists

clasped behind her back.
"Take off your belt", he said with a
grim smile, then opened one of the
numerous cupboards and took down a
long length of thick chain. He fastened
the first part tightly round her waist
and padlocked it, then brought the
remainder of the chain between her
legs, through the waist part and back
through her crotch and up to the waist
again, gradually tightening it until she

was moaning at the pain as the chains
dug deeper into her bottom and private
parts. With an effort he secured the
end of the links to the waist chain with
a heavy padlock. "There! If I had my
way you would have to do a two mile
walk in that, at double speed!"
With great difficulty she knelt and
kissed his leather-encased bottom
before leaving the room. It was agony
even to take tiny steps, the chains

cutting into her like a knife. She made
her way to the slaves' rest room, where
at least she could have a drink as she
was off duty now.
Several slaves were already there, some
in their lounging rubber suits, others in
some form of minor punishment
bondage. Her frient Yvette seemed to
be in trouble. She was wearing a heavy
latex suit and her gloved hands were
padlocked to a steel waist helt. On her
head she was wearing a punishment
hood, breathing through nose tubes
and with a 'filler' gag secured in her
mouth. The filler tube passed through
the gag, which meant she was forced to
swallow anything poured into the
outside holder.
Gerda stood by the bar, unable to sit
down on a stool. Marcia, elegant in
tight red latex and boots, was brooding
over a vodka martini. "What
happened to Yvette?" enquired Gerda,
knowing that the tall girl was one of
the top level slaves and seldom
incurred any demerits.
Marcia  grinned  through  the
mouthpiece of her tight mask.
"Nothing much. It's her master's idea
of a joke. she refused an extra glass of
champagne in his chalet, so now she
has to be forcibly given a drink every
hour for twelve hours while he's having
a good night's rest. If she can come to
him under her own steam, well and
good. If she has to be carried, then
she's going to be sobered up with a
heat treatment. Personally, I think
she's having a ball. she can drink like a
fish when she wants to!
Yvette was listening, and nodded her
head, unable to speak. Then she

pointed with a gloved finger at Gerda's
chains.
"Yes"  said  Gerda  miserably,
"Twenty-four hours, and already I feel
I want to go to the loo! God it's tight!
I'll have to eat dinner standing up."
But even as she complained, Gerda felt
almost proud. The slaves' rest room,
with its sofas and attractive bar, was
almost a club, to which she now
honourably belonged. Gone was her
white belt of novicehood. Now she
could at least be one of these
sophisticated slaves who had suffered
all that she had suffered. She ordered a
drink from the rubber-clad 'Bunny'
behind the bar and pointed to a girl
sitting in an armchair.
"Who's that? She hasn't a name on the
front of her hood. New?"
"Yes, came in yesterday. Apparently

she was very difficult, bit two
instructors and refused to kneel. Now
they're taming her. Her hands, as you
can see, are strapped between her
crotch, and her breathing mask has
been reduced to a minimum. That's
why she's panting so much. I think
they gave her two hours of that before
she gets put to bed in a punishment
suit " .
Gerda shuddered. She had heard of the
punishment sleeping suits rendering the
wearer totally incapable of any
movement, gagged and blindfolded.
She looked at the girl with pity,
knowing that one of the biggest sins
was to touch another slave or alleviate
her suffering.
The door opened and an instructor,
slim in his encasing green leather
uniform and black boots, entered. He
came over to the bar and the serving-
maid handed him a glass of neat
brandy. Gerda, Marcia and Yvette
stood strictly to attention. Without a
word he poured the drink slowly into
Yvette's filler, watching as she
swallowed it. He made a note of the
time on his work-pad, then left the
room. Yvette swayed slightly on her
feet, but winked at Gerda through her
eye-holes.
"Four more, I think," Marcia said to
Yvette, "Will you make it?" Yvette
nodded vigorously, jokingly offering
her hooded head for another drink.
Gerda wandered over to the new slave.
"Cheer up!" she said brightly, "Just
relax, they don't intend to kill you, just
breathe slowly and deeply, you'll get
used to it!" The girl looked up with
gratitude, her gloved hands twitching

in their bonds between her legs.
Gerda retired to bed early, hoping that
sleep would ease the pain of her tight
restricting chains.


ROD TRAINING
It was sheer luck which saved Gerda
from a highly unpleasant 24 hours in
her chastity chains. At eight in the
morning she was desperately needing
to pee, which would mean relieving
herself inside her thick latex working
suit. The penalty would be severe,
apart from the discomfort. Her limit
had almost been reached when Maria
brought in her breakfast tray and her
orders for the day. she also had the key
to the padlocked chains. She removed
her gag, which was allowed in Gerda's
quarters.
"I can unlock you, Madam, because
you have to report in one hour for rod
training. Please hurry, I must give you
your enema and get your dressed ! "
Gerda needed no urging once the chain

had been unlocked.
Fifty minutes later, enema-ed,
showered, and having eaten a hasty
breakfast, she dressed in the costume

Maria had laid out. First a thin white
rubber suit, with the bottom cut out.
Then a short red jacket of shining
vinyl, rubber lined, and finally very

long black leather boots with the usual
high heels, and her mask and gloves.


THE STOCKS

She felt curiously naked as she hurried
downstairs, knowing that the jacket, or
dress, was so short that it barely
covered her cut-out white latexed
bottom. She wondered what the final
rod training consisted of as she had
already worn a rod several times.
Surely it could not be something even
larger? She presented herself at the
main training chamber with some
apprehension. With dismay she saw the
Executioner waiting for her, dressed in
skin tight black latex from head to
foot, her face completely masked,
recognizable only by her long blonde
hair escaping from the back of her
helmet. She wasted no time, pointing
to a white steel apparatus in the centre
of the room.
"Your feet and hands in the stocks,
slave, and get your legs straight".
With difficulty, Gerda stood on the
steel platform and bent over. A serving
maid hurried across and clamped shut
the wrist and ankle bars, locking her
into a highly uncomfortable position.
Gerda realised her bottom was high in
the air, the short dress riding up and
exposing the white rubber undersuit. It
was difficult to keep her balance,
although the abbreviated stock was so
heavy there was no chance of falling
over. Instinctively she bent her knees,
easing the cramped position, then
screamed involuntarily as a whip
slashed across her bottom.
"Keep your knees straight ", the

executioner hissed, "Otherwise I'll fix
you into steel trousers. Get your
bottom right up in the air!"
With an effort, Gerda managed to
comply with the order. Dimly she
heard movement around her as two
serving-maids, heavily aproned over
their rubber costumes, moved to and
fro. She felt warm grease being applied
to her bottom through the hole in her
white suit. She gasped as more grease
was squirted up her anal passage under
pressure. Then a large ball gag was
being forced into her mouth and
strapped tightly round her helmet.
"For your own good, slave, the entry
of the final rod will hurt, even after all
your gradual training. But don't
forget, once you have accepted this,
you will be ready and prepared for
your own Master; for the Supreme
Master ! "
Next moment Gerda was writhing
helplessly and vainly trying to scream
for mercy as the huge No. 10 rod was
pushed slowly and relentlessly into her.
For once, the executioner was almost
sympathetic. "Relax, slave, accept it,
don't fight it. Think of your Master,
think of him entering you this way,
slowly and implacably".
Suddenly it was in and Sliding
smoothly up her. Now her gagged
screams were of ecstasy. She rode on
the huge rod, never wanting it to come
out of her, the orgasm building inside
her, knowing that this was the greatest
sensation on earth; she bent and
stretched, shoving cruelly down on the
massive rod, trying through her gag to
thank the executioner, to make her
understand it was all right, to show her

love for Guy.
The executioner smiled to herself inside
her tight mask. She, too, knew that
ecstatic feeling. She was proud of slave
Gerda, although she would never show
it. She leant forward and pushed the
huge rod in further as she felt Gerda's
orgasm begin.

DAY OF FREEDOM
The day after Gerda had received the
final rod, No. 10, inserted in her
bottom and eventually causing her to
take a massive pleasure was her first
day of freedom, granted once a week
under her new slave status. Also, for
the first time, she was no longer
chained round the neck to her bed, a
task her personal maid Maria had
carried out every night for all the weeks
of training.
From force of habit she awoke early,
her magenta rubber sleeping suit
pleasantly warm and slippery between
the latex sheets. It was a strange feeling
to know she had the whole day free,
the first since she had arrived on the
island. Naturally, she would still have
to dress in rubber, but now she felt a
curious affinity to the fabric, and
imagined it would be strange and
uninteresting to wear 'ordinary'
clothes again.
She showered in her private bathroom
and was wrapped in a thick bath-towel
when Maria arrived with her breakfast.
The saucy maid, a happy soul,
removed the gag from her helmet. As
usual, she wore her skin-tight red
serving-suit in shining latex, with high-
heeled boots, a tautly-laced corselet,
and her all-over black mask with the

name 'Maria' stencilled across the
forehead. The tight chain passing
between her legs and padlocked front
and back to the corselet, signifying her
lowly status, seemed not to bother her
at all.
Gerda chewed on a piece of toast and
marmalade while she surveyed her
huge wardrobe of costumes and
accessories. "My first free day, Maria,
just what shall I wear? Something light
and airy? Or should I be a good slave
and punish myself? Yes, I feel in the
mood for a heavy duty costume."
"I must give you your daily enema
first", Maria reminded her, "Then
why don't you try the heavy black
diving suit? It was delivered only a
week ago, you've not worn it yet."
"Excellent idea! The weather's getting
a bit chilly, and I want to explore the
island. And just to be sure I'll be warm
enough, I'll put on a latex suit
underneath . "
Twenty minutes later, the enema
completed and a thick No. 6 rod
chained up her bottom, Gerda slipped
into her all-over black suit which fitted
her lissome figure perfectly. Then
Maria held the 'diving' suit while
Gerda struggled into it. It was made of
a shiny 'tote' material, very thick and
strong, the whole outfit, with feet and
gloves attached, weighing nearly eight
kilos. Maria pulled up the heavy zip at
the back, locking the high collar into
position .
"Phew!" Gerda gasped, "It's like
liquid armour! I hope I never have to
wear this as a punishment! Now, a
wide leather belt, and strong hip boots,
but no stiletto heels, I'll be walking on

the beach and in the woods." Maria
brought out high black rubber waders
with two-inch wedge heels. The outside
straps were tightly attached to a heavy
belt. Cierda pulled on her slave-mask
and surveyed herself in the mirror. She
bent her legs in the heavy waders and
felt her rod mack in its grease. She felt
horribly randy.
"Good! A cape, perhaps, to complete
the outfit. The short black rubber
one." When Maria had fastened it on,
Gerda felt she presented an interesting
appearance, the cape falling saucily to
the top of the waders, giving no hint of
the heavy suit underneath.
She made her way downstairs, and
although it was only eight a.m., several
slaves were already hurrying to report
for their daily training. In the main hall
she was surprised to meet Yvette, her
special friend, a top-level slave who
usually revelled in her exalted position
and seldom incurred demerits. She had
spent three years at the Centre, the
slave of a German industrialist who
visited the island for a weekend every

month. Yvette adored him, although
he was a sadistic man and put her
through bizarre tortures and tests
which she appeared to enjoy
enormously. The previous evening,
while catching up on his sleep, he had
decreed she stay gagged for eight hours
with a feeding 'filler' inserted, and an
Instructor to give her a double brandy
every hour.
Curious, Gerda halted and addressed
Yvette's personal maid. There was no
way to communicate with her friend,
as she was wearing a steel face-helmet,
tightly fitted to the contours of her
head, the four-inch steel collar
padlocked at the rear, causing her head
to remain proudly erect. Gerda knew
she would be heavily gagged
underneath the helmet.
"What happened to slave Yvette, did
she not pass the drink test?" Then
Gerda realised the maid was gagged
too, a mandatory rule in the quarters
of the maid's Mistress. Yvette grunted
in frustration, the smooth steel helmet
giving no indication of her thoughts.

The maid took out her pad and pen
and wrote rapidly: Mistress passed test,
but when taken to her Master she was
so inebriated she told him to f--- off.
Now she has to be hung in chains in her
steel costume from the punishment
tree.
"Yvette!" Gerda cried hoarsely, "I'm
sorry! It's my day off. I'll come and
talk to you." Only then did she realise
the cruelty of her friend's costume.
Over her heavy rubber suit she wore
high steel boots, causing her to walk
stiff-legged, and her torso was encased
in an iron leotard, tightened at each
side with butterfly screws. Her hands
were clamped inside steel gloves, which
were locked to the top of the high
boots. She watched as her friend
clanked onwards to her Punishment.


HANGING TREE

By midday Gerda was regretting - in
part - her decision to dress so heavily.
At first, she had been glad of the extra
protection, as the climate had turned
sharply cold, and heavy clouds hung
ominously in the sky, rumbling with
displeasure and occasionally belching
low rolls of thunder. But now, having
walked several miles through woods
and along winding pathways, her
inside suit was wet with perspiration
and she could feel puddles of it in her
latexed feet. Her face, too, was
dripping inside her mask, but she was
now so well trained it never occurred to
her to remove the helmet. It was one of
the first rules that a slave was always
masked outside her own quarters.
She had almost traversed the small

island when she returned on the north
side towards the dreaded 'hanging'
tree. From one enormous branch,
growing parallel to the ground, chains
and hooks were attached to a pulley to
lift helpless bodies off the ground. As
Gerda ploughed across the grassy cliff-
top, she could see Yvette's steel-clad
figure dangling several feet off the
ground. Beside her sat an Instructor,
reading a novel. Again Gerda
appreciated that le Compte never
allowed any slave to be in danger when
in punishment.
She came up and was glad to see the
inspector, on his green leather helmet,
had the number 3. Although she had
never seen his face, she knew he was
reasonably sympathetic, not like the
surly and sadistic number 7. She
greeted him cordially.
"Hi! How long is slave Yvette here
for? "
He put down his book. Despite her
love for Guy she thought the instructor
looked very sexy in the skin-tight green
leather costume with the high black
boots. He stood up, the leather
creaking.
"Just over an hour to go. Three hours
altogether. We've been having quite a
chat! "
"But she's gagged, isn't she?"
"No. For this punishment the gag is
removed in case of an emergency. The
chains have to be absolutely perfectly
adjusted and the slave has the right to
protest - on her honour, of course -
if the steel costume is cutting into her
skin. "
The steel-enclosed body of Yvette
swung slowly in its chains.

"Fernando." it said, "If that's Slave
Gerda, please take a walk for a few
minutes. I'm O.K., quite comfortable,
but I'd like to talk to her privately."
The words echoed uncannily in the air,
the shining face of the helmet
remaining inscrutable.
The Instructor put down his book on
the canvas chair.
"O.K., I'll stretch my legs, but I'll be
within range if you call out."
When he was out of earshot Gerda
asked anxiously, "Is it very bad? Does
it hurt a lot?"


PUNISHMENT PLEASURE

Her friend's muffled laugh came as a
surprise. "Gerda, you're really not
with it yet! I 'm having a ball ! it 's
marvellous!"   Dubiously  Gerda
surveyed the steel-encased figure. The
chains were hooked to the waist of the
steel leotard, and other chains were
padlocked to her metal boots. A single
chain ran tightly up from the ring in
her steel helmet, keeping her head
pulled cruelly upwards. Her iron gloves
were securely padlocked behind her at
the elbows and wrists.
"You're enjoying it?" Gerda asked,
marvelling .
"Course I am! I have my Punishment
pants on, with a number 8 up my arse,
and a thick wedge in front, the suit and
the steel leotard is pushing them up to
my throat, it's fantastic! Besides, I love
the feel of being hoisted, completely
helpless, I could stay here all day!"
"But you're in trouble with your
Master, what will he do to you when
you report again?"

"He's a dear, he knows I love to be
punished, he's threatened to give me
three hundred lashes when I return. I
hope he does. I love him so much, and
for a German he has a wonderful sense
of humour. Sometimes I deliberately
do something bad so that he has the
excuse to punish me, but he always
laughs when he thinks out some awful
torture. God, it's so marvellous to live
this sort of life instead of worrying
about work and paying the monthly
bills. Don't you agree?"
Gerda was silent for a moment,
assessing her own situation. She
recalled her frantically busy days in
Paris as a top model, rushing from one
fashion house to another, battling with
the traffic in her small M.G., the rows
and tantrums with designers and other
models, the exhausted nights and the
loneliness of her bed until Guy had
come into her life.
"I suppose you're right, in some ways.
But I have Guy to love, even if he's
training me as his personal slave. Yes, I
suppose I've learnt the joy of being
utterly subjugated, then raised up
again as a good slave. Even today, my
first 'free' day, I'm wearing a hellishly
hot suit and loving the constricting
feeling of it. I must be mad!"
"No, Gerda," said the steel-clad figure
hanging in chains, "You're just
starting to appreciate the power and
sensuality of bondage in rubber, and
the knowledge that you have no
responsibilities other than suffering to
please your Master. To hell with
women's lib, this is like one glorious
orgasm which lasts forever!"
           to be continued . . .