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Part 2

From the window of the small jet that had taken Shane directly from Hongkong to Silver Beach the island looked like a blotch of green in the endless blue of the ocean. The ride had not exactly been pleasant as they had encountered turbulences and the small aircraft had been shaken as if grasped by the fist of a giant.

Shane had not been worried though as the pilot had appeared entirely undaunted and the pretty stewardess had kept him fixed with a steady flow of Scotch on the rocks just like he preferred it.

Originally he had not planned to go via Hongkong but a last minute job had come up that he simply couldn't resist. Not fancy but extremely difficult due to the high security surrounding the target and the urgency of the mission. And extremely well paid as well.

Things in Hongkong had grown a little hectic after the target's elimination. Had he taken a regular plane out of XXX airport he would probably have been detained for a while just like all other suspect foreigners. But the Silver Beach staff had efficiently extracted him from unwanted attention, taken care of the paper work and necessary bribing and put him on the jet in no time. Again Shane was deeply impressed by their perfect service.

A bit of rough weather on the flight couldn't douse his exceptionally good mood. Even the fact that the island was cloaked in a thick blanket of clouds that they had already cut through in the landing procedures and that rain was drumming against the plane didn't worry him overly much.

Other guests might have complained about encountering rain and stormy weather on their beach vacation but Shane didn't plan to spend time at the beach anyway. What he was looking forward to was sampling the many excellent restaurants and holing up with his toy in his small cottage. He still fondly remembered another holiday when it had been raining none stop and he hadn't really left the bed the entire week he had been at Silver Beach.

Shane leaned back in his seat and drained the last of his Scotch while the plane smoothly landed at Silver Beach airport. Then the stewardess appeared next to him, politely informing him of their arrival.

"We apologize for the bumpy ride." she said with a sweet smile. "Hopefully your stay will be a lot more pleasant."

Shane smiled back at her with all his boyish charm. "If my stay is even half as pleasant as the flight it will be wonderful." he complimented her on her excellent service. He had discreetly tugged a hundred dollar bill under his emptied glass as her tip.

The fact that he took his flattery in stride and graciously bowed her head in acceptance of it made her rise another notch in his respect. She helped him collect his hand luggage and then preceded him outside to open an umbrella for him and escort him over to the pretty, whitewashed airport building.

As he was the only guest arriving with this plane the welcome committee was smaller than usual, just a slave who would take his luggage to his cottage and Miss Angelina next to one of the small golf cars that served as transportation on the island. She looked as stern and proper as always in her stylish costume as ever and Shane found himself very much looking forward to spend the drive to his cottage with her.

He couldn't think of many people who he truly admired but she was definitely one of them.

"Mr. West," she welcomed him with a polite smile and took the umbrella from the stewardess, dismissing her with a gesture, "it is a pleasure to welcome you back."

"It is a pleasure to be back, Miss Angelina." he answered with an equally polite smile.

"Weather forecasts are not exactly favourable but I trust you will find you stay as pleasurable as always. If there is anything special you need to spice up your stay you know we will be happy to provide it."

Actually, there was one thing Shane would very much enjoy. "I would be delighted if you could somehow find the time in your tight schedule to accept an invitation to dinner, Miss Angelina." he said and had the satisfaction to see her blink - startled for a split second.

Then her polite smile was firmly back in place and she nodded. "I'm sure I will find an opening for you, Mr. West." she said.

Shane was unable to tell if she would enjoy having dinner with him or if she was providing impeccable service but frankly he didn't care. After all he was paying an ungodly amount of money for this service. He knew he would enjoy chatting with her and that was all that mattered.

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Stephen hurt. It wasn't full fledged pain but a numb feeling of hurt.

His knees ached from kneeling on the hard wooden floor for more than an hour. He was used to kneeling. Training had sometimes included kneeling for several hours, doing nothing but looking meek and pretty. He had always despised those lessons. They gave you too much time to think. He had never gotten the knack of remaining motionless. He had never understood how others could kneel for hours without feeling stiff afterwards. His knees always hurt.

His skin was feeling raw. 'Preparing' him had included other slaves bathing him and scrubbing him clean none too gently. They had washed and brushed out his hair, tearing at them till he thought they were trying to pull his scalp off. They had cut his nails and rubbed his oversensitive skin with some subtle perfume.

Finally they had put a wide leather collar on him that had a steel ring attached to it. That was the only piece of clothing he had been fitted with.

Then they had taken him to a small guest cottage located a bit off the beach, overshadowed by several huge mangrove trees, making it look more like the retreat of some dangerous psychopath in Stephen's overactive fantasy.

He had been told to kneel on the doorstep and not move and inch from the obedient position that had been beaten into him ever since he had come to Silver Beach. A leash had been attached to the ring on his collar and tied to a matching ring imbedded in the door frame.

And then they had left him alone.

Left him alone to ponder the fact that he now had an owner.

The mere thought was frightening. It meant that the waiting game he had been playing with his trainers was finally over. They had known he would never make a good slave and he had known there was no way to escape his fate. This was what they had been waiting for in silent agreement. The end of him being a nuisance to his trainers. And quite probably the end of him too. Sooner than later.

There really was only one kind of owner who picked a difficult slave like Stephen. Someone who enjoyed breaking such slaves. Or someone who didn't care about obedience as they simply looked for a pretty body to use and didn't pay any attention to the fact that a feeling, thinking being came with that body.

Neither option was particularly bearable in Stephen's opinion. Both held a high chance that he would not survive this guest's stay at the Resort.

Despite the fact that he hated his life and had quite often considered ending it he had always realized that he wasn't ready to give up yet. Now that the likelihood of him dying at the hands of an angry owner was so drastically raised he knew that he would go to a great length to survive.

Silently he asked himself how to best achieve that. His gaze trailed over the interior of the cottage, trying to glean any kind of information about his soon to arrive owner. Of course there was not much to be found as any personal items were absent.

For one there was the fact that he had been delivered naked and immediately been leashed to the doorframe. That told him that his new master would not tolerate any kind of disobedience or was looking for it to enjoy the punishment to follow.

It also told him that very soon he would probably be fucked raw. He didn't even dare hope his owner might be a woman. And even if - a woman would find other ways of making his life exceptionally unpleasant.

The inside of the cottage was decorated in muted colours. A huge TV set dominated the room, positioned so that it could be watched from the large four poster bed. There was a small bar in one corner, complete with counter and three bar stools. Right next to the bar there was a small coffee table with two low armchairs. Outside on the veranda there was a larger teak dinner table complete with four matching chairs. The low roof of the cottage also covered the veranda, offering protection to someone that might sit at the table from the soft rain that was falling outside

Everything was tasteful but not obviously luxurious or expensive. Whoever his new owner was, he didn't believe in decadence. Stephen wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

What truly worried him was the fact that there were chains ending in heavy manacles attached to the four posters of the bed. It meant his new owner's tastes in sex were not exactly tame. And that usually meant pain for the slave on the receiving end.

But it didn't change the fact that Stephen wanted to survive.

He knew his new master had picked him from a wide selection. So he had to know that he would not deal with a meek, obedient toy but a stubborn, angry, insolent slave. That was what he expected. So maybe the best way to escape his attention was to be what he didn't want: the perfect, pliant plaything. There was a chance that he would give Stephen back and chose another slave to play with. Of course there was also the chance that his master would be especially cruel to make Stephen disobey. Or that he would be so angry about Stephen not matching his expectations that he would 'remove' him personally.

And of course Stephen was anything but sure if he would manage to act the meek slave. Sulking and snappy remarks were second nature to him. Being a good boy meant giving up the very last bit of freedom he had managed to keep intact in his heart.

The choice was to quite probably die or to lose the long battle he had fought against his trainers.

Before he could come to any decision he heard the soft whirring sound of one of the Resort's guest transports. Quickly he lowered his gaze, studying the polished wood of the floor beneath him. Even if he wasn't sure if he would manage to act the good slave it wouldn't do to aggravate his new master right from the start if he could help it.

Motionless he waited.

From outside he heard the whirring of the car stop as it parked in front of the cottage, the sound of voices, one male, one female, exchanging pleasantries. Then the car driving off and footsteps on the steps on the gravel path leading to the veranda.

He knew that he must already be visible from where the person who was his new master was walking, still there was no break in the stride. Then a pair of booted feet came into his field of vision as they ascended the three steps leading up to the veranda and the doorway. The boots of a man, just as he had expected.

What he had definitely not expected was than his new master hunkered down in front of him, put a gentle finger under his chin and lifted his face so they looked eye to eye.

The first thing he noticed about his master was that he was a lot younger than he had thought a master would be. The second thing was the utterly relaxed, almost arrogantly confident air he carried himself with. And the third was the odd mixture of tender fondness and mirth he read in the other man's eyes.

"So you are Stephen, hmm?" his new master asked in a tone that told Stephen clearly he did not expect an answer. "I am sure we will have a wonderful time, my boy." he said, making it sound a threat as much as a promise.

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll

go to PART 3

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