Escape Crew from Dominatrix Island

Later I jumped when that alarm bell gave three short clanging bursts, a signal of some kind. The women in the room didn't seem to be startled, but I think I they felt a sense of relief, if that makes any sense.

Not long after that, I heard the sound of high heels briskly approaching in the corridor. They were walking too fast to be Loredana, or so I hoped. Daring to look over my shoulder, I saw Ula enter the room. She gave instructions to the others, and just watching her hand gestures it seemed as if I was to be taken from this chamber.

A short time later I was returned to the cell in the dungeon. The guards had relocated their post to the usual spot at the bottom of the stairs. My ass was too sore to sit down, even on the soft mattress of the bed, so I lay on my side. I was incredibly hungry and hoped that someone would bring some food.

Perhaps I dozed off, but then I heard someone approaching my cell. I was surprised that it was Anastasia. With her back to the guards down the hall, she held one finger to her lips as if for me to stay quiet. I got out of bed and approached the bars.

"You have lost privileges," she said softly. "No surprise to you, sure. Will be taken to your new, station," then she lowered her voice even more. "It is dangerous place. Women who work there are dezonorant." She paused as if trying to think of another word. "They are without honor," she said at last. "Be suspicious, stay alert as possible." Then she whispered, "Try to be patient."

I would remain in the dungeon for what seemed like a few days and was fed what appeared to be thick oatmeal with a few random chunks of hard meat in it. Although it was filling, it always left me feeling groggy and disoriented. I assumed it was drugged.

The medic lady showed up a few times to inspect my buttocks, sometimes applying that cooling yet burning medicine, and though I assumed her treatment was working, I was only able to sit on the edge of my bed comfortably for short periods of time.

Then the day came when a detail of several women, all dressed in black leather and the flat heeled rubber boots came to my cell. They tossed some clothes down on the floor along with a flimsy pair of leather sandals and said something in their language. I assumed they wanted me to get dressed.

The loose fitting shirt and pants reminded me of scrubs that you see medical professionals wear, but these were old and ragged. Threadbare in some places, and had many dark stains that evidently couldn't be washed out.

They placed me in handcuffs and took me up the dungeon stairs to large steel doors at the end of the main corridor, which I knew led outside. Here, the guard who seemed to be in charge, pulled a black cloth hood from a pocket of her jacket and placed it over my head. Although I was able to breathe, I was not able to see.

Stumbling many times, they led me down several different paths, some that felt like stone, and others of loose gravel. It seemed as if we were heading downhill most of the time, and there were even several short flights of stairs which I carefully and slowly descended. That seemed to annoy the guards who I guess wanted to get their assignment over with.

When at last the hood and handcuffs were removed, I found myself at the bottom of a deep pit, open to the sky above. While the pit seemed to have been blasted out of solid rock long ago, one side of it was a long stone wall. Along that wall was some sort of antique machinery. It was my job or station as Anastasia might call it, to keep that machinery running during the day.

Some mechanisms had large springs and others had weights like an old grandfather clock, and they had to be wound every now and then with large cranks to keep from coming to a stop. There were several wooden buckets, one filled with stinky oil and the other with thick black grease. Some parts of the machines needed oiling with a rag, while others needed grease with a heavy brush. The machinery turned axle shafts that rotated at different speeds and disappeared through holes in the stone wall.

While I had no idea what the machinery was used for, over the smell of the gear oil I would sometimes catch a whiff of an herbal scent, or the aroma you might smell in a kitchen when fresh vegetables were being chopped. This might be a mill or processing area for plants grown by other men in the gardens.

Two women worked here as well, but they were inside behind a metal door. One was old, heavyset, and was probably in charge. She wore clothes similar to mine but they were a dark grey with a single white stripe on the cuff of one sleeve. She would periodically come out into the pit and hit me with a broom when I had dozed off in a groggy sleep and a machine had run down and stopped.

Here assistant was young, unattractive, hair of bleached blonde cut short, and she wore a dress that looked like it had been made from an old burlap sack, tied at the waist with a frayed rope.

Both of these women wore the same flat heeled rubber boots like the guards of the citadel did for work details. However, their boots looked very old and were scuffed and battered, most likely discarded by the ladies of the citadel.

Neither of them spoke English, yet they had trained me on the machinery. Rattling on angrily in their language as they demonstrated the winding and lubricating, and not hesitating to slap me on the back of the head when I made a mistake. I thought of them as the old hag and the young hag.

One time during a light rain I'd been sleeping in my quarters. It was really just a small cave hollowed out at one end of the pit. It had some rusty bars at the entrance but whatever gate had been there was gone. I had no proper bed, just a pile of old matted straw and filthy blankets. I was roughly woken by the young hag.

She yelled something at me with a piercing voice and poked at me with a long wooden spoon, but I glanced out into the pit and saw the machinery was still running so I had no idea what she wanted. Then she hiked up her baggy dress, she wasn't wearing any panties, and she turned her back to me and bent over. Looking over her shoulder, she made a strange face, waggled her tongue, and then pointed to the crack of her ass.

I told her, no, and was pretty sure that was a word shared by most languages. She came back over to me and smacked me on the thigh several times with her wooden spoon, then got back into position, signaling for me to lick her ass, but again I refused so she hit me with the wooden spoon. This went on a few times and seemed like it wouldn't end. I felt too groggy to try and fight her off. Even if I did, both hags would probably rough me up later.

I've gone down on women plenty of times and really enjoyed giving them pleasure, but I've never licked a woman's asshole. I've heard that some people enjoy that, either being on the giving or receiving end, but I'd had no desire to try it one way or the other.

Kneeling behind the young hag, she smelled faintly of body odor mixed with herbs and spices from the mill. At least her ass appeared to be clean.

As I swirled my tongue around the edges of her butthole, giving occasional taps and gentle licks, she moaned with pleasure. I know the anus can be an erogenous zone of sorts, and this was clearly her hot spot.

At one point she almost lost her balance, and moved so that she could hold onto the rusty bars. It wasn't long after that before my tightly focused tongue probing gave her a knee shaking orgasm.

She stood up with a satisfied sigh, then turned to me and gave a psychotic sounding laugh before running across the pit, slamming the metal door behind her.

That night when I was sleeping, I was woken again and was sure it was the young hag back for more. Then there was a soft click and in the flame of a cigarette lighter I could see it was Anastasia. After lighting her smoke, she said to me,

"I come to speak without record. Men suffer injuries here. Machine works turn slow but catch loose clothing and pull them in. Tuck in drawstring for trousers, tuck in shirt, roll up sleeves. You understand?"

I told her that I did. Then I thanked her for creating whatever distraction she did, ending my brutal punishment from Loredana.

"You impress me, Mr. Van," she said. "I know you were questioned, I know you took much pain, yet you keep your mouth shut. Did not say a word about Mr. McGonnigle."

Anastasia was silhouetted against the faint starlight, with only a momentary glow of her cigarette illuminating her face as she took a long drag. I eyed her with suspicion.

"Yes, I know of McGonnigle," she said. "He tells you of low tide and exposed land bridge connecting islands. Give you tips to survive. Loredana makes you cry in pain yet you do not speak his name."

"If such a thing was true," I said cautiously. "How would you know?"

"Because McGonnigle does what I tell him to do!" she said with a huff of laughter. "Do not be angry with him, and do not be angry with me. I am up for promotion," she bragged. "If that happens, I will be in good position to see you get off island. Take this."

She pulled something from a pocket of her jacket and tossed it to me. It bounced off my chest in the darkness and I picked it up off the floor. It felt like a small, dense lump of bread, and smelled faintly of chocolate.

"Counter measure," Anastasia said. "Will keep you alert despite sedated food ration. It has, side effects. You shall see. Eat it!" she insisted.

It was like a dry cookie that crumbles in your mouth when you take a bite. Although it tasted slightly like chocolate, it was bland and made me feel thirsty, possibly the side effect she told me about.

"I must go now. I will arrange for more counter measure to be delivered, and maybe some better food for strength," she said. Then she sparked the flame of her cigarette lighter to dimly illuminate my cave. With her other hand she pulled her hair forward over one shoulder. "This is signal," she said, but I didn't understand what she meant. "Be smart, Mr. Van. If you are alert and safe with machines, do not let women here catch on. I know you can keep secret. So does Mr. McGonnigle."

Although I wanted to ask her some questions, she walked across the pit under the starlight. I heard the creaking of the hinges on the metal door, and then she closed it softly behind her.

As I lay in the darkness, I thought back to my life before I was stuck here on this island. My employer was an underworld figure, for lack of a better term, and I did administrative work for him. There were numerous businesses that he operated, some legitimate, and others not so much.

I'd been paid well and had a nice apartment on the twelfth floor of a high rise, with a view of the ocean. It was a great bachelor pad. Often times in the evening, home alone, I would call one of the escort services that was owned by my employer.

It was sort of a perk to employees to use this one particular service every now and then at a reduced rate. Perhaps I used the service a bit too much, but I had access to the record books and was sometimes able to hide my activities.

The service had some beautiful women, and they were always bringing in fresh talent, rotating them through other services that operated elsewhere. However, a man in my position just had to take whoever was available at the time. My coworkers who used the service sometimes referred to these women as the B-team, or B-girls, and often made disrespectful comments about them. I didn't feel the need to have sex with a supermodel, and the B-girls were skilled and kept me satisfied. Perhaps that was why I used their services so much.

One evening I had the lights dimmed in my apartment. I was only wearing a dark silk robe and a pair of socks. There was a soft knock at the door, where a mature woman introduced herself as Jamie, and she had a beautiful smile.

She was short and full figured, with a mane of red curly hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Jamie wore a black shirt that had some sparkly threads woven in at random, snug fitting blue jeans, and some flat shoes. Dressed like a random neighbor lady who might be going out to a local bar for an evening with her friends.

After inviting her in, she accepted my offer of a glass of wine. We clinked our glasses together in a toast to nothing, and she barely took a sip. I sat down on the plush sofa but Jamie didn't sit beside me. Instead she placed her wine glass on the coffee table and knelt in front of me, then gently pulled open my robe.

My cock had been partially erect in anticipation, and Jamie lightly gripped the base of it in one hand, and then took me into her mouth. Some professionals are in such a rush, but Jamie took her time, not using her hands. Her lips and tongue glided on my flesh, and I felt myself get harder than ever before.

At one point she paused briefly to remove her top, and push the straps of her bra down off her shoulders to expose her ample breasts. She rubbed my cock between them for just a moment before taking me back into her mouth.

A little while later I led Jamie to my bedroom and as I lay down I told her that I wanted her to be on top for a while. She gave me her wonderful smile again as she kicked off her shoes and quickly peeled off her jeans.

It only took her seconds to unroll a condom down the length of my hard cock. The professionals were always so quick about it so that I barely noticed, and moments later she was easing herself down on top of me, taking me all the way in.

Her bra was still wrapped around her body, hanging just below her nice full breasts, and I reached up to fondle them. Jamie leaned over so I could kiss her breasts and savor her nipples. She slowly flexed her hips and seemed to be in no hurry to make me cum.

I became lost in that moment and had absolutely no cares in the world. Jamie's slow flexing of hips eased into a subtle grinding motion, and I began to gasp with pleasure. I tried to bury my face between her breasts, but she had me breathing so heavily I had to lay my head back down on my pillow.

Normally I would have rolled a woman onto her back, and enjoyed humping her while her legs were wrapped tightly around my body until I climaxed. However, on that that night I was content to lay back, and I gave several long groans of satisfaction as I had a powerful orgasm.

That mental trip back in time was suddenly over, and I found myself lying on the soiled bedding in my sleeping cave, and realized I'd been masturbating, one hand now covered with cum. It had been a while since I'd been sexually aroused but I didn't ponder that because my orgasm had been so welcome and satisfying, so I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I was winding up one of the machines. I had all my clothing tucked in as Anastasia had advised, and that seemed like such an obvious thing to do that I cursed myself for not thinking of it. Maybe the sedatives in my oatmeal were clouding my judgment.

That morning when the old hag callously tossed a metal bowl of the stuff out the door in her usual way, spilling at least half of it onto the ground, I remembered an idea that came to me last night. Instead of eating all of the oatmeal at once, I thought I would try to only eat one handful, then another small portion later, and so on, and drink plenty of water. Try to spread out the dosage my body was getting. Maybe even build up a tolerance to the sedative.

A bird had been chirping overhead while I was working. That wasn't uncommon but this morning it just kept going on and on to where it was irritating. I looked up to see what the bird was doing and was surprised to see an attractive young lady looking down at me from the rim of the pit.

I could see she was wearing a black leather jacket, and wore her blonde hair in a slim braid that had been pulled forward over one shoulder. She momentarily glanced to her sides, then pulled something out of her jacket and dropped it down to me.

I'd been caught off guard and assumed she was playing a prank, maybe trying to hit me with a rock so I'd jumped out of the way. The object landed on the floor of the pit with a muted thump. It was a package about the size of a beer can, wrapped in brown paper secured with rough twine.

Of course, the hair over the shoulder, that was the signal that Anastasia had told me about. I quickly scooped up the package and slipped off to the shadows of my cave, just in case one of the hags came out into the pit.

There were two countermeasure lumps, along with a thick slice of dried meat, and a slab of what looked like some sort of cheese. I wasted no time wolfing down one of the countermeasures, but took my time to enjoy the food items. This was the best meal I'd had in a long time.

A while later when I felt myself becoming alert, I carefully studied the machinery, and the walls of the pit. Maybe an experienced rock climber could scale the walls, but not me. I'd be able to climb on top of the machinery easily enough after dark when it wasn't running, but I'd be too far below the rim of the pit to climb out.

The metal door creaked open. It was the young hag. She looked at my nearly full bowl of oatmeal on the ground and kicked it over with her old rubber boots. Then she shouted and waved her wooden spoon at me.

She walked over to a rough wall of the pit. Bending over, she hiked up her sack dress to expose her bare ass and braced one hand against the wall for balance. She made a strange face at me over her shoulder and pointed at the crack of her ass. Then she yelled what I assume were threats at me as she waved the wooden spoon through the air.

I was annoyed but didn't feel like battling with her, knowing I would have to eventually submit and give her the thrill she wanted. Walking towards her, I suddenly remembered to slow my pace and wobble unsteadily as if in a drugged state. The young hag seemed thrilled that I was complying with her orders, and as I got on my knees behind her she bent over a little further.

In the bright light of the sun, her pale bottom looked shapelier than I remembered. It was easy to envision her wearing some sexy thong panties, the lacy butt floss cinched between her firm cheeks.

I lightly caressed her soft buttocks as I moved in to lick her tight little asshole. When I'd done this the other day I'd been rather disgusted and was glad it was over with quickly. However, this time I thought I would make an effort to really pleasure her.

The young hag moaned softly, and I tried to sense her responses as I caressed and probed with my tongue. She spread her legs wider, and tilted her bottom upwards giving me better access which I appreciated. I was absolutely thrilled to be worshiping this young lady's ass. She gave some high pitched squeals, then her knees buckled, and the moans of her orgasm echoed off the walls of the pit.

I lingered, kissing the sweet cheeks of her ass, and giving a few slow licks up the full length of her butt crack, which made her giggle softly. She stood up slowly and brushed a lock of her bleached hair from her eyes, but then her lazy and satisfied smile turned to a look of horror.

She screamed something at me in her piercing high voice and pointed at my crotch. I suddenly realized that my cock was firmly erect and making a prominent bulge in my trousers. Maybe the drugged food was supposed to make me impotent, because she was obviously surprised and maybe even frightened. The young hag ran to the metal door, slamming it loudly behind her.

Having remembered my experience with Jamie the escort last night after eating my first countermeasure, and now having a raging hard-on in my pants after my encounter with the young hag, I realized that one of the side effects was that of an aphrodisiac.

I was afraid the young hag would bring the older one out here to rough me up or maybe try to interrogate me even though they didn't speak English, but I had to do something about my rock hard erection.