gerda 3 sup 5

STORY SO FAR: Gerda a successful
model, has accepted Le Compte Guy de
Rhislain's invitation to spend a holiday on
his island off the Italian coast. Upon
arrival she finds she is to be trained as a 
slave, at all times dressed in rubber and
bondaged. Maria, a gagged maid, has laid
out her contume for dinner on the first
night. Reluctantly, but curious, Gerda
dresses herself in the large bedroom.




She had pulled up the long latex
stockings and zipped up the gleaming
black evening dress when the door
opened and Maria appeared, still in her
dark blue rubber outfit and the gag in
place. She crossed to the bedside and
picked up a pad and pen and wrote
rapidly. By now Gerda was becoming
angry.
"For God's sake, take off that stupid
gag and tell me what's going on! I'm
not going to be treated like some idiot,

even to please Guy. Is this a nuthouse,
or something?"
Maria Shook her head, then presented
the pad. On it she had written: Do what
he wants, he'll explain everything tonight.
He wants you in red boots instead of the
evening shoes. I'll lace them on for you
Can't take off the gag, would get dozens
of demerits. Besides, it's quite comfort-
able.
Again, her eyes seemed to twinkle above
the heavy leather strap which kept the
gag firmly in place. She crossed to a
cupboard and took out a knee-high
pair of pencil-heeled boots.
With a sigh of irritation Gerda sat on
the bed and raised the long tight dress.
Within five minutes the boots were
laced on and she stood up and teetered
across to a full length mirror, holding
her skirt high despite the circum-
stances. She thought she looked sen-
sational.       Maria clapped her gloved

hands in approval, then brought across
the red leather corselet, placed it round
Gerda's waist, and Laced it up tightly.
Next, she held out a pair of tong red
gloves in a utin rnaterial, When Gerda
slipped them on she found they were
lined with cool mackintosh material. A
fine gold chain at each wrist was
locked into place by Maria with tiny
gold padlocks. Finally Maria brought a
short red cape in heavy latex and
fastened the high collar with a strap and
gold buckle. The cape was cunningly
designed so that it hung apart except
at the new, revealing Gerda's uplifted
breasts in the shiny black dress, and
her nipped-in waist. Despite the overall
tightness of the outfit, Ger& felt warm
and comfortable. She decided she might
as well make the best of the situation.
"All right! My serving maid, we're in a
madhouse." She remembered Guy's
gentle love-making in Paris, his sense of
humour and appreciation of sculpture
and paintings. They had spent hours in
the Louvre while he explained the joys
of the great painters, the dusky land-
scape of a Corot, the robust lines and
curves of a Renoir, the brilliant matching
tones of a Van Gogh. "I'll probably be
on a plane to Paris tomorrow, but
tonight I will faithfully play the game!
Lead me to your Master!"
Carefully she followed Maria down the
wide stairs, holding on to the polished
oak bannisters. She was led down a long
passage, lined with stern-looking por-
traits of, presumably, Le Compte's
ancestors. None wearing rubber, she
noted with amusement.
The serving maid opened a pair of
double doors and motioned her to go in.
 She knelt quickly jand pressed her
; gagged face against the top of Gerda's
knee.
 The doors closed quietly and Gerda
was left alone in the magnificent study.
It was a big room, two walls being
entirely devoted to floor-to-ceiling book-
shelves. A large window, now partly
curtained with heavy velvet drapes,
looked out on to the darkening Medit-
erranean. Although it was late summer,
a log fire burned cheerily in a big
granite fireplace, its warm glow reflected
in the oak panelling of the room. Two
long leather sofas lined the fireplace,
with a low marble coffee table set in
between. A large Sheraton desk occupied
one corner, and in the other a table had
been set for two, the sparkling silver-
ware and lighted candelabra giving a
soft illumination to the root.
 She crossed to the fireplace and let the
heat -warm her, not certain whether
her sudden shiver was due to tempera-
ture or apprehension. She had always
been a keen reader of Edgar Allen Poe,
and suddenly the huge mansion seemed
sinister in its very perfectness.
 Abruptly the doors opened and Le
Compte entered. He switched on three
wall brackets then quietly closed the
doors and strode over to a sideboard on
which stood bottles - and decanters.
Gerda regarded him with love and a
certain awed fascination.
 He was over six feet tall and sturdily
built, still dressed in the heavy white
leather jumpsuit, carefully tailored to
his lithe figure. He wore shiny black
riding boots and a wide black belt held
tightly by three gold buckles. Round the
high military collar was a chain
                    Id
supporting a solid gold key. she
thought he looked quip superb.
"Good evening, Slave Gerda, you look
very fine in your outfit. I trust the size
is right and you are comfortable?"
"Surprisingly, ySes. I feel as if it's been
moulded on to me! Do you have all
your girls' sizes in stocky'
He smiled, a brief flash of white teeth.
"I have 0 my own 0 Xhs@. 0 Your
mea@nents Where-; sent here four
weeks ago. All yourScFtumes, even
the more bizarre ones, have been
specially tailored just for you. My
dream always is to obtain pe-ricction.
A sherry, or something strongerT'
"Tio Pepe if you have it. you know I
had anything sweet."
As he poured out the sherry, she asked
lightly, "How did you get my measure-
ments ? You must have been pretty sure
of getting me here !"
"A small bribe in Madam Poiret's
salon. I said I wanted to buy you a
surprise present from another cout-
urier. Yes, I was confident you'd come
with me eventually. When you are in
love, I know that you love deeply. What
more natural that after the new collec-
tions you should come here to relax?;'
He brought two glasses across to the
fire and. motioned her to sit down.
"We will dine shortly. Meanwhile I will
teach you a little of what I expect to
achieve from you over the next few
months."


She lookout up shyly. "You're crazy,
Guy, I have to be back in Paris for a
show in two weeks time, then I have the
winter collections in London- in a
month."
"I'm afraid not ma chere. Cables have
already been sent to your agent cancell-
ing all engagements until further notice.
I, ah, indicated you had eloped with a
rich Greek gentleman. Your parents
are dead lint you have no close relatives,
and in the last few months since you've
been with me you've been very loyal
and dropped your other male admirers."
For the first time a twinge of alarm shot
through her. What he said was entirely
true; there was no one who would worry
about her whereabouts, even her crusty
agent knew only to well how many of
his models had married and given up
their jobs.
She sat down slowly, onb part of her
mind registering the fact that her dress
was now slippery and sticking rigidly to
her. A tiny air bubble moved down her
arm, vainly looking for an exit.
"Are you really serious?" she asked.
"Completely so," was the quiet answer.
"The sooner you realise it the better for
you. For this evening you are still a
guest in my house, but tomorrow you
must start to learn quickly, for I will no
longer be Guy; I will be your Master.
Matter of your soul and your mind and
your body." Suddenly he grinned at her.
"But don't look so down-hearted!
Eventually you will take joy and pride
in your new profession. Now listen
carefully. Have you read the Story
of O ?"
"Of course. But what -"
"when you will remember that O loved

her man beyond reason, and was
prepared to put up with any indignity,
any humiliation, even any torture, to
prove her love for him ?"
She shuddered slightly. "Yes, it made
good reading, but it was fiction.'
"Ah, there where you are wrong. Even today,
many years later, the Chateau still

exists for the purpose of providing
highly trained slaves for gentlemen of
wealth. Several years ago, before I
started my own project, I spent three
months there, learning their methods,
their psychology, their beliefs, and
absorbing some of their infinite wisdom.
I saw rebellious girls broken down and

trained to excessive heights of masochis-
tic exhaltation in just a few months."
She interrupted him. "Well, brother, you
can fail me right now and write me off
as a disaster. I have my own independ-
ence and no one, but nobody, is going
to make me submit to what happened
to Miss O. For your sake, because I do
love you, I'll play a game with you, but
I'm not a masochist and I want no
bullshit about whippings and brand-
ings !"
He offered her a cigarette from a large
silver box on the table. She accepted it,
feeling her hands wet inside the tight
mackintosh gloves. She wanted to take
them off
"My hands are wet, how do I undo these
little chains on my wrists ?"
"The padlocks are small, but not toys.
They require a key. you keep them on."
She shrugged, determined not to beg.
"Suit yourself." Sarcastically: "I pre-
sume I don't have to dine with them
on?"
He looked surprised. "But of course.
One of the prime rules here is that a
slave always wears gloves, except when
changing costumes or taking a bath.
However, I digress. I promised to
explain the principal theories of your
Training:" He lit her cigarette, then
his own, puffing out a cloud of blue
smoke.
"There are several categories of slaves.
The term itself is an old-fashioned one,
but difficult to change. Personally I
prefer the term of 'Server', but I don't
insist upon it. Paradoxically, a slave is
not a beaten-down object of contempt,
but a person with pride and intelligence.
She must be, otherwise her Training
will be long and painful. Apart from the
Masters, she is the most coveted being
in this Establishment. She is a Mistress
to her serving maid, who are generally
lowly girls with an upbringing of dire
poverty and dim-intelligence who woulz
otherwise end up as cheap whores on
the street. Here they work hard but are
fairly treated, fed well, and live in
comparative luxury."
"And earn a fantastic salary, no doubt?"
"Your sarcasm is natural. Not a
fantastic salary, no. But every month a
sum of money is paid into an account in
their name in a Swiss bank, probably
more than they would earn as a waitress
or farm girl. Take Maria, for instance.
She was a young call-girl when I first
met her three years ago. Bright as a
button and attractive, with a lovely
petite figure. I found her outside a
nightclub in Rome, lying in the parking
lot. she had been badly beaten up by a
sadistic gentleman who objected to
paying her for amateurish services. I
took her back to my temporary apart-
ment, called a doctor, was kind to her
for several days, then offered to train
her here. She's been with me ever since.
Luckily, she is a natural masochist and
adores rubber, although she can be
very tough with the other serving maids
if they step out of line."
Gerda was listening in a daze. Her glass
was empty and she asked Guy for a
refit she could plainly hear the faint
creak of his leather as he crossed the
room. she stared at a superb statue on
the mantelpiece whose bronze was
weathered to a shadow-darkness. She
moved slightly in her costume, feeling a
trickle of warm perspiration ease down
her back. Despite her apprehension, it
felt good.
"So," Guy continued as he returned with
her full glass, "A good slave must be
chosen with a great amount of care.
Physically, her figure must be good,
although a plump slave, if well pro-
portioned, is preferred by certain
Masters. The face is not so important."
"Why ?" Gerda interjected.
"Because most of the time she is
masked," he replied simply, "However,
we prefer for a Master to bring in his
own would-be slave for Training. But
always the demand is bigger than the
intake, so we watch out for good
material, unattached."
"Like me?" She said it faintly.
"In a way. It started like that, but in the
months we've been together, I've come
to love you in my own way. Perhaps I
shall decide to train you as my own
personal slave.'
"Thanks a bunch, Lord and Master."
She wondered how she could joke at a
time like this. she sipped the sherry
and wondered if he was really serious,
or whether tomorrow he would admit
it was all a practical joke and they
would go swimming and sailing and
sunbathing together. She stubbed out
the cigarette, afraid it would burn the
glove.

TAKING PLEASURE,

"So the slave is the most important
factor in the Training Centre, and at all
times she must strive to accept her
Training, however severe, and learn
quickly to incur as few Demerits as
possible. She must take pride in her




accomplishments, but pride must never
cause her to resist the utmost humili-
ations which she will undergo. She must
gladly accept pain when it is necessary,
and in time will be taught to receive
this in humbleness and turn it into joy
and even Pleasure. Incidentally, we do
not talk of orgasms in the Centre, we
use the old Biblical expression of
'Taking Pleasure'.
"From what you're hinting, there
doesn't seem to be much chance of that
around here," she said tartly.
"Oh, but you are so wrong! Not only
will you be trained to take Pleasure
under duress, but you will be forced
to do so at certain Punishment times.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. You
will find a list of basic regulations
in your room. Learn them well, and
never forget them. you will also learn
that you must never leave the room
when a Master is present without
going down on one knee and bowing
your head; even if gagged and chained
and blindfolded in a Punishment hood.
It is a sign of acceptance and highly
important."
She let out a long sigh. "Guy, you just
blew it ! I suffer from claustrophobia and
there's no way, not even for you, will W
have anything in my mouth or over m)
face !"
He smiled again and rose to tug at a
bell-pull by the fireside. "That's what
so many young ladies say. It's surprising
how quickly we cure them. The treat-
ment seems most therapeutic. Shall we
dine now?"
An hour later they had almost finished
the excellent meal, sorted to perfection
by a tall maid in gleaming black latex,



her head entirely encased in a skin-tight
mask with only eye slits and two small
breathing holes. The faint bulge of a
gag showed through. Gerda ate little,
with every movement feeling the heavy


rubber dress warm and clinging, her
hands hot inside the mackintosh gloves;
feeling annoyed and faintly embarrassed
by the rustle of rubber every time she
lifted her arm.



The count kept up a friendly conver-
sation, refilling her glass with Dom
Perignon from time to time.
"Usually I have a wine waitress serving
us, but she is in Punishment at the
moment and will be in heavy Meditation
until tomorrow morning. I would have
liked to introduce you to Miss Dodds,
my Chief Matron, but apparently there
has been a rash of Demerits incurred
during the past few days, and tonight is
Punishment night, so she is busy
supervising the various costumes and,



bondage."
Gamely, Gerda tried to keep her sense
of values. "How many girls are here?
On the island ?"
"In the Training Centre ? At the
moment, there are eighteen slaves being
trained, and eight serving maids. Plus
Miss Dodds, who you might liken to-a
rather strict Mother Bunny. Then there
is the Executioner, and six male
attendants."
Gerda choked on a piece of squishy
Brie. "The Executioner? It sounds
ominous !" She laughed weakly.
"In a way, it is. The Executioner is a
female; a rather sadistic lesbian, to be
exact. She is responsible to carry out,
or supervise, all Punishments, and to
make sure bondage and training harn-
esses are at maximum tightness. Some-
times even the attendants or the
serving maids feel sorry for a slave, and
will not tighten the straps or chains to
their limit. Just pray that it will be a
long time before you meet the Execut-
ioner of ficially."
It was with utter relief that a few
minutes later the Count suggested she
should retire to bed.
"You will need your sleep. Tomorrow
Maria will wake you with breakfast and
prepare you for your morning enema,
which Miss Dodds will give you."
Gerda opened her mouth to protest,
but the Count lifted a hand imperiously.
"No more arguments ! When you
report tomorrow you will learn a great
deal more, and if you are wise you will
accept your new philosophy of life.
The quicker you accept it, the easier
will be your path." He stood up and
walked to the door. "Goodnight, my



dear Gerda; and remember, from
tomorrow onwards you are a slave in
Training and will always address me as
' Master' ."
Too tired to argue, Gerda walked
wearily upstairs, the black rubber dress
feeling like a straitjacket, the corselet
now cruelly biting into her waist. She
found Mara waiting by her bed.
"I'm leaving first thing tomorrow, my
girl! You may get your jollies out of
this, but it's not for me. Just undo this
quickly and let me have a quick shower."
Five minutes later she was undressed
and luxuriating as the not water relaxed
her stiff body. she dried and powdered
herself and returned to the bedroom. A
curious shapeless sack was Iying on the
bed. Maria held the top open and
motioned her to step into it. Tiredly,
Gerda nodded, knowing she would slip
out of it as soon as the maid left.
She dropped the towel and eased her
feet in the garment. It was made of very
thick white rubber, cold to the touch.
She put her arms into the sleeves and
found they ended in attached gloves,
heavy and clumsy. Maria zipped the
sack up her back, fiddling with the high
neckband. Gerda lay back, realising
the sheets and pillow case were also of
thick rubber. Maria covered her over
then bent briefly and kissed Gerda's
forehead with her gagged mouth, then
turned out the lights and left the room.
Gerda waited a moment, then took her
gloved hands in order to zip down the
sack. It was only after a minute of futile
struggling that she realised the zip was
padlocked to the heavy neckband.
There were tears in her eyes as she fell
into an exhausted sleep. To be continued