gerda 5

The story so far: Gerda, a top Parisien model
has been brought by her lover, Le Compte Guy
de Rhislain, to his island for a holiday. She finds
he has plans to make her a slave in rubber, part
of his large establishment which trains rich
gentlemen's mistresses. Despite her protests, on
her first morning she has been given her first
daily enema, and is now dressed and ready to
report for her initiation training. She is still
proud and defiant

Gerda's feelings were mixed as she
followed her personal maid, Maria,
down the huge staircase and along a
corridor. Her heavy white rubber
breeches, which Maria had called the
'slaves' shame training pants', made a
loud crackling as she walked. It
contrasted with the tight smooth feling
of the rest of her costume.
They reached some swing doors and
Maria, being permanently gagged,
wrote rapidly on her pad: This is the
slaves rest room. I leave you here until
your master summons you. Today will
be hard for you, as you will be prepared
for slavehood, but I urge you not to


resist, it will only mean more punishment.
Good Luck! With these ominous words
she knelt, kissed Gerda's boot, and
departed. Gerda watched her tightly-
latexed bottom with the gold padlocked
chain disappear round the corner.
She pushed open the door and stopped
in surprise. It was a huge room, with
French windows opening out to a
terrace overlooking the Mediterranean.
Sofas and armchairs in black and
white leather were scattered around
the room. Sumptuous carpets covered
the parquet floor, and there was a
small bar in one corner. Vaguely she
noticed three Dali paintings which
looked original, and a large nude by
Picasso. A lighted bookcase with a
glass front contained a large collection
of Meissen china.
But her eyes were only on the occupants
of the room. There were seven girls,
some sitting, some standing, all dressed
startlingly in rubber or latex, and all


tightly hooded on the front of each
mask was a name, on the back was a
number. One of the girls stood up and
came across to Gerda.
"You must be the new girl, you've no
name or number yet. As you can see,
I'm Yvette. What's your name ?"
Through the eye-slits of her tight black
mask, Gerda studied the girl, noting
the superb figure and the tiny waist
encased by a corselette same as her own.
Yvette was entirely encased in a heavy
red latex suit, with laced leather thigh
boots and red leather briefs which
divided her bottom into two halves.
She wore long latex gloves which were
chained round the wrists allowing two
inches of slack between.
"I'm Gerda," she stammered, "But
I'm not staying here, it's all a mistake.
Can't you take off your mask ?"
Yvette laughed, low and pleasant.
"Whatever for ? And earn fifty De-
merits? Besides, I'd feel naked without
it!"
Despite Gerda's previous confidence
that she could outwit Le Compte, she
felt a cold depression settle over her.
"How long have you been here? Can't
you escape ?"
One of the other girls stood up. she
was dressed similarly to Yvette, but
her arms were encased in a single long
leather glove and strapped tightly up
her back. Despite that, she moved
lithely and with elegance. On her mask
was the name 'Marcia'.
"You're talking to Yvette, a Top-
Level Slave, why should she want to
escape? I'm Marcia, by the way,-I've
been here six months, Yvette's been
here over a year."
Gerda was aghast. "But why ? You

sound quite cheerful about it ! Can't
you get away ?"
She could see Marcia's red lips smile
through the mouth-piece of the tight
mask. "Who wants to? We are highly
trained slaves and have everything we
want. We know how to please our man
better than anyone alive. In return we
have no problems, no worries, a superb
sexual life, and the joy of being eternally
masochistic and living in pride and
humiliation."
Yvette put a gloved hand on Gerda's
shoulder, fondling the latex gently.
"Dear Gerda, it's difficult to explain,
even more difficult for you to under-
stand at this monemt. The first two
weeks will not be easy for you, until
you can adjust your mind and your
mentality. Try not to suffer too much
and learn quickly to accept it !" She
stroked Gerda's long blonde hair
which spilled from under the neck of
the mask. "Lovely hair !" That's the
only thing I regret !" Marcia inter-
rupted hastily, "Come and meet the
others. We're all on Call, but some of
them are finishing up their Punish-
ments, and can't speak."
She led Gerda over to a girl who was
standing immobile by the window. To
Gerda's astonishment she was encased
in shining steel armour, with steel
boots with high heels. The head was a
round ball of silver steel with three
tiny holes for breathing.
Marcia smiled. "This is Tania: She's
heavily rubbered under her Punishment
Armour, and gagged and masked, of
course. She can hardly walk and can't
sit or lie down. The steel suit is almost
airtight and I imagine she's perspiring
like the proverbial pig. She's been

almost twelve hours in it."
Gerda was horrified. "It's insane
It's cruel, can't you undo it ?"
"Oh dear!" laughed Yvette, who had
followed them over to the window
"You really are naive ! One of the
strictest rules is you must never touch or
release another slave. Besides, just look
at those padlocks !" She touched Tania
who obligingly turned round slightly
with a faint clank of steel. A single bar
of iron ran from the back of her head to
her thighs, fitting over six metal hoops
which came through appropriate holes
in the bar and were all padlocked into
place.
"Tania's not too unhappy, she was
brought up from the Cellars only half an
hour ago, she'll be released any minute
and then she'll have a whole twenty-four
hours off."
"But why did they do this to her?"
"The silly girl tried to disobey an order
for Dressing. Her Master had arrived
from Rome and wanted her for a long
Whipping. She reported in her proper
Whipping costume, but she had put on
three pairs of thick rubber pants under-
neath. After the first twenty strokes the
Whipping Mistress knew there was
something wrong and had her stripped;
she received 200 Demerits and twelve
hours in the Steel Maiden costume."
Gerda felt faint. She gazed out the
window at the sunny Mediterranean, so
near and yet, now, so far. she could feel
her costume clinging coldly to her.
"They whip you ? That's illegal !"
Now Marcia laughed, her large breasts
jiggling through the tight latex. "You
obviously haven't even started yet ! You
get a Training Whipping every day.
You'll start at fifty strokes, and work up

to the daily 250. Actually, you'll grow to
like it. It's only the last ten that really
hurt."
Gerda turned and surveyed the other
girls. Three of them had their arms
fixed behind their backs and were
wearing heavier masks with no eyeholes
or mouths. Another was wearing a tight
black rubber leotard, out of which pro-
truded at the back a long Rod, making
it impossible for her to sit down. Her
gloved wrists were handcuffed in front
of her. On her head she wore a loose
rubber hood with a long tube coming
from her mouth.
"That's Sylvia," explained Marcia,
"She's working off a week's Demerits.
That's the rather unpleasant Suffocation
Hood for Punishment. You'll notice it's
strapped tightly round her neck, and the
breathing tube has a nozzle on the end,
allowing her just enough air to breathe.
She's had it on since last night, and
every now and then one of the

Instructors will tighten up the nozzle for
a few minutes until she's almost un-
conscious. What they don't know is
that Sylvia loves it, she can take
Pleasure after Pleasure with that punish-
ment. I honestly believe she deliberately
gets Demerits !"
"But how?" Gerda asked, aware that
her breathing was faster and despite her
repulsion she felt a sickly glow of
sensuality in her stomach, "How can
she get a kick out of it?"
Yvette smoothed up her long gloves to
the very top of her arms. "Incidentally,"
she told Gerda, "Keep yourself always
'Tight and Tidy', which is the Centre's
motto. You can get Demerits for a
wrinkled glove or stocking. Well, I
suppose Sylvia is a born masochist, and
she loves her Master very much. He gets
a kick out of dominating her, knowing
that she's getting a thrill out of him
doing so - if you follow me. Actually,
he's a nice little man, and not really
tough enough for her. That's why she
loved him for bringing her here. The
harsher they train her the better she
likes it. The trouble is that now he needs
to be trained as a Master, he's too
lenient with her. But he only comes
once a month, and she's the perfectly
devoted slave to him for twenty-four
hours, but 1 swear the rest of the month
she's hardly ever out of some Punish-
ment period.
"But you, for instance, you really
enjoy it here?" Gerda was now curious,
as Yvette spoke with an educated voice
and seemed an intelligent girl.
"At first I didn't. Like you, I suppose, I
was brought here under false pretences.
I'm an orphan, was a not very successful

actress, lived with a couple of men, was
on pot and went to all the usual Chelsea
parties, and didn't know, or care, where
I was going in life. Then I met this very
rich guy, moved in with him, and two
months later we came down here 'for a
relaxing holiday'. I was furious at first,
fought against the whole idea, then
suddenly I found I was looking forward
to my Training, it was the first time in
my life I was being disciplined, both
physically and mentally. He didn't
come back for three months, and when
he did we had the most fabulous week-
end together. He's a bit of a sadist, and
I took great pride in accepting every-
thing he wanted to do, even urging him
on. Yes, I'm a good slave and I love it.
On my final exam to become a Top
Level Slave he and the Whipping
Mistress gave me one thousand lashes
over a period of four hours. I think I
took Pleasure about eight times. It was
wonderful !"
"But don't you want to return? To go
back to everyday life ?"
"Sometimes, yes. But for what? I'd
have all the old responsibilities, and
sexually I could never find the same
satisfaction. My Master travels all over
the world, and I'd only get into trouble
waiting for him at home. Whereas here
I suffer for him, making myself a better
slave, and he usually comes once a
month. I report to his private chalet for
the weekend, and of course he has the
use of all the Training Rooms, all the
equipment for Punishment, and the
rubber wardrobe here covers six huge
rooms. As I said, we have a ball."
The door opened and an Instructo
entered. He was dressed entirely in a

close-fitting green leather suit, with
black riding boots, and a wide black
belt from which dangled a shortwhip.
He wore a leather mask with the
numeral '4' on the front.
"He's a bastard," whispered Yvette,
"Stand to attention and whatever
happens don't speak."
She called out: "Attention, slaves !" for
the sake of the ones who could not see.
In a moment everyone was. standing
rigidly still. The man came over to them,
and Gerda could hear the squeak of his
tight leather. He screwed down the
nozzle on Sylvia's hood, then turned to
Gerda. He gave an ironic bow.
"Our new recruit, I presume. You have
a good figure which I personally like.
You won't have to suffer the Slimming
and Heat Treatment too much. I'm
taking you to the Preparation Depart-
ment, after which you'll be given your
normal working hood, and you'll be
known as Gerda, slave number 21."
Gerda remained silent, watching agoni-
singly as Sylvia's heavy rubber hood
crinkled frantically in and out as she
used up the air inside.
"Tongue-tied, are we ? Have you no-
thing to say?" His cruel eyes through
the mask seemed to be laughing at her.
Despite Yvette's warning, she burst out:
"Please, please ! That girl's suffocating !"
The Instructor took his whip in his
hand. "Because you're new, I won't give
you any Demerits." He slashed the
whip across Gerda's tightly rubbered
bottom. She gave a small scream but
managed to remain still. The pain
rippled through her. But her main
concern was for Sylvia.
Then she watched in astonishment as


Sylvia bent her knees, trying to thrust
out the long Rod, then straightening up
again as it slid back into her. The hood
was blowing in and out now in long
gasps. The motions of the Rod in-
creased, accompanied by a frenzied
moaning from the girl. Gerda realised
that Sylvia was coming to a climax. The
Instructor grinned through his mask
and loosened the nozzle so that she
could breathe again.
"That's the cruel part!" he said lightly
"I'm letting her breathe again before
she can take Pleasure ! Now, slave Gerda
please follow me the Preparation Room
is waiting for you."
He led the way out, Marcia called after
Gerda, wishing her luck. In trepidation
she followed the Instructor as he
walked rapidly down several corridors
towards the rear of the huge building,
Gerda trying to follow on her high
heeled boots, feeling her warm rubber
Jack' rustling, her mind whirling
as she tried to assimilate all she had
heard from the other slaves.
He stopped in front of a door and
turned to her. His eyes behind the
hood were not unsympathetic.
"When you come out of here, you will
have been prepared for slavehood.
The mask you will be given will be
worn at all times, except when you
have permission to remove it. Try to
adjust your metamorphosis and do not
allow your rage and shame to affect
your destiny. Think and behave like a
slave, try to enjoy your Training; sink
into it, and let it wash and purify you.
In this way you will suffer little. Now
enter this door and prepare yourself
for slavehood."

She looked at him in astonishment,
seeking some kindred soul, some re-
assurance that this was not a terrible
nightmare. But now the eyes were hard
and cruel again. He opened the door
and she entered.
The room was large, without windows.
It reminded her of a make-up room in
a film studio. Several adjustable
chairs, like-old fashioned dentists' chairs


stood in front of neon-lit mirrors. A
serving maid stood motionless beside
one of them, her slim figure tightly
encased in latex, with the now-familiar
gag and mask covering her head. she
indicated for Gerda to sit in one of the
chairs. Slowly, Gerda did so, squirming
as she felt her greased Rod pushed
further in.
The maid strapped her elbows and

wrists to the vinyl arm supports, then
applied steel clamps to her ankles,
knees and thighs finally passing a
broad belt round the chair and her
waist. She gently pressed Gerda's head
back until it rested against the head-
piece of the chair, then passed a strap
round her neck. Gerda tried to protest,
but the maid ignored her pleas. She
unzipped Gerda's mask, and pulled it
off, leaving her head free. Gerda shook
her long head of blonde hair, she felt
relaxed and quite confortable in her
tight suit. At least, she thought grimly,
they can't rape me in my present
costume and bondage !
In the mirror she saw a door open
behind her, and an apparition appeared
behind her chair.
The woman was nearly six feet tall.
She was dressed in high-heeled white
rubber waders which came up over
her breasts, the heavy and shiny rubber
fitting closely to her superb body.
Round her waist was a belt of steel.
Over her shoulders was a thigh length
cape of the same heavy-white rubber,
but now loosely thrown over her
shoulders. Her face was broad and
sensual.
Long blonde hair cascaded down her
back.

Gerda could hear the woman's heavy
rubber crackling as she moved slowly
up to-the chair.
"Slave Gerda ! How nice to meet you ! I
am The Executioner. Look well at my
face, and remember it, because you will
never see it again without a mask. Look
at my hair, this golden hair which
reaches to myo bottom. Thick and
beautiful, isn't it? Think of it and

remember it !" She took hold of
Gerda's long hair and stroked it. "Now
I will prepare you for your Training. It
is necessary that all slaves have very
short hair so that it does not interfere
with their permanent masks. Servant,
the gag, please !"
Before Gerda realised the meaning of
The Executioner's words, the maid had
thrust a thick rubber gag into her
mouth, and strapped it tightly behind
her head. The woman leant forward and
felt the gag with her gloved hands.
"Stupid maid! Ten Demerits for fri-
volity. I need it tight!" She hauled on
the strap of the gag, nearly choking
Gerda from the strap round her neck,
and pulling in the thick wedge until
Gerda's mouth was pulled savagely
back, the leather strap cutting deeply
into the corners of her mouth. The
Executioner then tightened the strap
around Gerda's neck until she was
immobile, able only to look ahead in
the classical 'gag-stare'.
The maid brought across a white latex
hood and handed it to the woman, who
pulled it on over her head. In the
mirror Gerda now saw only a white
mask with tiny eyeholes. The mouth
was a painted travesty of smiling lips.
She felt faint, the saliva trickling out of
her cruelly gagged mouth.
The Executioner picked up a pair o
large scissors.
"Now, my good slave, we will fit you
for your mask !" She took hold of
Gerda's long hair and cut it off close to
the scalp. She then handed the scissors
to the maid. "Trim it up and put on her
mask, with a B-4 padlock. She is to keep
it on for forty-eight hours to get


accustomed to it."
Gerda screamed and screamed, but only
muffled sounds came through the
vicious gag. Her beautiful hair, her
pride, the envy of Paris, lay on the
floor. The tears flooded her eyes, the
screams subsiding to choking despair.
The maid expertly trimmed her head,
then brought across a thick latex hood
and pulled it over Gerda's head. The
mask had glass eyeholes, a shaped nose
with two breathing holes, and a cut-out
mouth. She released the strap around
Gerda's neck, and pulled tight the two-
inch boned neck of the mask. she laced
up the back until the mask was skin-
tight, without a wrinkle, then passed a
steel band over the neckpiece and
padlocked it into position. Finally she
released Gerda from her bonds and
undid the gag.
Gerda, numb with shock, looked at
herself in the big mirror. Through the
built-in glass goggles she saw her
faceless hood, tight and shiny, anony-
mous, with the white letters 'Gerda'
across the forehead. Her hands came up
to the back of her neck, feeling the iron
collar and the padlock. The Executioner
was standing in the background.
"So be it, slave Gerda! You will now
report for your first Training Session.
And I warn you, co-operate well, or you
will meet me again ! I am looking
forward to punishing you ! You are
conceited, proud, and wilful, and I
know you will incur many Demerits
before I break your spirit. I wonder how
soon I will find you reporting to me in
the Punishment Chamber !"

In the next issue, Gerda commences her Training,
still fighting against her slavehood, but, despite
her revulsion, finding certain facets of it highly
exciting.