Escape Crew from Dominatrix Island

Note from the author: This story is the second part in a series. Please read the original story, Escape from Dominatrix Island, which can be found here at Literotica. This story contains scenes of female domination and captive males, with non-consensual bdsm and sexual situations. It is written only for adults who enjoy these topics.

When I woke up I wasn't sure what time it was. I had hoped that I'd been having a bad dream but that wasn't the case. Although the bed I'd slept on had been very comfortable, it was located in a dungeon cell underneath the citadel.

The large open archway to the corridor was covered with iron bars and a heavy gate. I'd been kept here before when I first landed on this island and was being interrogated.

This time there were three guards posted right outside my cell. Young ladies dressed all in black leather. Knee high boots with tall slender heels, tight shorts and motorcycle style jackets. When Anastasia had left me here, maybe that was yesterday and maybe it was only a few hours ago, she explained they would be keeping close watch.

A few days ago I had escaped from the women of the citadel, only to be recaptured, and soon I would be punished for making that escape.

One of the ladies glanced up from what looked like a text book that she had been reading. Perhaps she had seen me stirring out of a corner of her eye. After I took a long drink of water from a plastic jug I sat back down on the bed, naked because the women had taken my clothes before locking me up.

The female guard returned to her reading. Her dark hair was worn pulled back, and I noticed that she had two silver stripes on one sleeve of her jacket, and may have been in charge of their group. The other two young ladies, both blondes, only had a single stripe on their jacket sleeves, and sat across from each other at a small table playing a card game and smoking cigarettes. They hadn't paid any attention to me at all.

Feelings of dread were coming over me, my upcoming punishment. Would I be paddled, whipped, who knows what they had in mind? Once again I lay back down on the bed, pulled the thick blankets over myself and tried to escape once again, at least for a while, into a deep sleep.

Maybe I did fall asleep, but I suddenly sat upright when I heard the loud clatter of high heeled boots coming down the stone passageway, along with a faint rattling of chains. It sounded like a large group of guards was approaching.

The lady that may have been in charge of the watch detail closed her text book, stood up, and placed it on her chair. One of the other two guards quickly scooped their playing cards off the table and slipped them into a pocket of her jacket, and they both crushed their cigarettes out on the floor under the pointed toes of their boots. They stood at attention as another group of women came into view and stood outside the bars.

There were two women from the elite guard, who wore the same snug fitting black leather shorts, but their jackets were made of shiny silver leather, and the shafts of their black high heeled boots rose midway up their thighs.

I recognized one of the elites as Ula, a brunette with three black stripes on the sleeve of her silver jacket. She was an expert with the bull whip, and knowing that I was about to be punished, I was not pleased to see her.

Ula quietly gave orders to the other women. All of the women at the citadel spoke a foreign language that I didn't understand. It had a thick eastern European tone quality and may have been Russian.

The other elite guard, a blonde lady with a single black stripe, unlocked the gate to my cell. Ula led the group in. There were at least four younger ladies all dressed in black leather and knee high boots, carrying chains and shackles.

They pulled me from my bed, surrounded me, and started to chain me up. They were not gentle about it. One of the ladies in black leather who really seemed to enjoy her task made what sounded like a condescending remark, but then Ula said something to her in a harsh tone, perhaps telling her to shut up. They finished their work in silence and took me from my cell.

When we reached the stone stairway at the end of the corridor, they helped and even somewhat carried me up, due to the short chain between my ankle restraints.

Seemingly long ago when I'd become stranded on this island and had been brought by a group of women to the citadel, I'd been interrogated in a large torture chamber, and I feared that was our destination.

There had been another time later, when I'd been held as a so-called guest, that I'd seen a larger ceremonial hall where some female guards were punished in front of the others. It was possible they would take me there and punish me in front of the other men who were kept at the citadel, so they would be reminded not to attempt an escape.

However, I was taken to a chamber that I had never seen before. A relatively long and narrow room, with one tall slit of a window at the end. Down near that window was a heavy wooden framework with two upright timbers. There were whips and paddles of different styles hanging on the walls, but I focused straight ahead.

The women roughly placed me between the upright posts, disconnected my wrist shackles from a chain at my waist, then secured them to an overhead beam and walked away. There was an uncomfortable silence. I realized that the window had no glass and was just an open slit, like in a medieval castle where an archer might stand to shoot arrows at invaders. Warm air from the ocean outside drifted into the cool stone chamber.

Then I heard the sound of two pairs of high heeled boots entering the room, walking at a slow and easy pace. I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke as the two approached me from behind. They paused for a moment and I heard a gritty crunching sound on the stone floor, most likely a cigarette being crushed out under a spike heeled boot.

Loredana circled around in front of me from the right. She was a tall, mature woman, and always wore her golden blonde hair in long elaborate braids. Dressed as usual in a form fitting jumpsuit of silver leather, one sleeve covered with many black stripes and topped with a crest that looked like the silhouette of a bird. Her thigh high boots were of matching silver leather and laced up the front.

Although I was firmly chained in place, I strained at my bonds trying to back away from her intimidating presence. As one might guess from her uniform, she was in charge here at the citadel.

She slapped me across the face and yelled at me in an angry tone. I knew that she spoke English well, though with a European accent, but for some reason she chose to scold me in what was probably her native language.

Then another woman circled around in front of me from the left. It was Stanimira, a much shorter, mature brunette. She wore thigh high boots, shorts, and a jacket, all in matching silver leather. One sleeve of her jacket had the same crest on it as Loredana's, but she wore fewer stripes, and served as her assistant.

"Loredana is angry with you," Stanimira said in perfect English with only the faintest hint of an accent. "You were her guest, and she would have seen that eventually you would be returned to your homeland. However, you have insulted her by running off."

I was slapped in the face once more by Loredana and she yelled at me for what seemed to be a very long time. When she was done, Stanimira lightly cleared her throat and gave a brief translation.

"You will be punished for your attempt to escape. It will be most unpleasant. However, there are a few things that she would like to know first."

Stanimira explained that after I had escaped and they found me hiding by a lighthouse on a nearby island, Loredana was surprised.

"That island is a long distance away, and it would have been a dangerous journey. Most men wouldn't have attempted it," she said. "You took many tests when you first arrived here at the citadel, and assuming you answered all questions honestly, making a daring escape attempt like that is not in your nature."

Loredana turned to Stanimira and said a few words to her, gesturing with her hands.

"Loredana says that our security team found a rainwater catchment system you had built, yet you claim to have no survival training. You had also improvised some clothing," Stanimira paused for a long time. "It is suspicious."

Grabbing me by the hair, Loredana slapped my face and spoke menacingly to me, nose to nose. Once again Stanimira translated.

"Loredana wants to know if you had any assistance. Perhaps information on how to reach the lighthouse without a boat, or instructions on how survive in the elements? Perhaps you had contact with another one of our male guests, or even advice from one of the ladies in our unit?"

Thankfully letting go of my hair and backing away, Loredana called out to someone behind me. To my horror they handed her a long slim cane, which she began to swish though the air with a menacing sound.

"If you received any assistance for your escape, you should tell Loredana about it now, and she may spare you some discomfort," Stanimira said calmly despite the tension in the air.

After giving me a lethal glare, Loredana walked slowly around behind me. She wasted no time and began striking my vulnerable bare ass with the cane. Every time I heard the slim rod cut through the air I cringed, and then groaned loudly when it struck my bottom and seared my skin like a hot wire.

I focused on the window in front of me, trying to somehow detach myself from the situation. The walls slanted inwards at the sides of the window slit, perhaps giving an archer a wider area to shoot his arrows, but I also wondered if that somehow channeled my howls of pain out through that opening, where men were working in the gardens below.

The caning stopped and Loredana shouted something loudly. Stanimira had remained in front of me and to one side. She briefly looked over to Loredana, and then to me.

"If anyone helped you in your escape, advised you in any way, you should tell Loredana about it now," her voice was calm and serious as usual, but there was something else about her tone. I knew I had to say something, anything to get a break from my punishment.

"The morning before I escaped, I'd been assigned to sweep a walkway outside. It wrapped around the citadel. You know that's true," I said with emphasis. "There's a place, a big open area, looks like there might have been cannons mounted there at one time, I saw the chain of islands in the distance."

Loredana had stopped caning me, but periodically swooshed the long slim rod through the air, perhaps growing impatient.

"I saw some waves breaking between this island and the next, and remembered from when I wrecked here that the water around the island is shallow. I thought it might be possible to wade over to the next island, and the next, eventually finding the one with the lighthouse."

Loredana shouted something and I cried out when her cane cracked on my buttocks.

"I took a pair of the rubber work boots to protect my feet from the rocks. I knew where they were stored because when I first got here I'd been ordered to wash them and lick them," I explained. At that time the only clothing they'd given me to wear was a thong. I told Loredana that I often wrapped myself in a sheet at night, and that gave me the idea to make one into a poncho.

Once again Loredana began to whip me with her cane, but I continued telling my story, and how my plan was to somehow sabotage the lighthouse so a passing boat might send a repair crew to investigate. I also thought there might be some kind of emergency distress call there, for people that might be shipwrecked and reach the lighthouse on an inflatable raft.

I'd been straining uselessly against my chains during the caning, when suddenly I heard an electric buzzing sound behind me. I screamed out in horror and begged for mercy. I had no idea what it was but knew it couldn't be good. The buzzing sound repeated and Stanimira walked behind me.

The caning had stopped and I heard Stanimira speaking to someone in their foreign language. Daring to look, I turned my head as far as I could to see behind me, and saw that that she was talking into what looked like an antique phone or intercom mounted on the wall. She then turned to Loredana and held out the earpiece for her.

Loredana was clearly annoyed at being interrupted, but she took the earpiece and then spoke angrily into the microphone on the wall. She was strangely quiet for awhile, and then had a brief conversation that sounded urgent. She barked out an order into the phone and then hung it up. Down the passageway a bell started clanging, like what you might hear in the hallways of an old school building.

Loredana had a brief conversation with Stanimira, and then it sounded like she was giving instructions to the other women. Her tone of authority was strong. Then Stanimira and most of the other women followed her out of the room.

What could possibly be going on? Had a fire broken out? Had an unexpected boat shown up on the horizon, or was the island being invaded? Then I realized whatever it was, it was Anastasia's doing. A distraction. She had actually done me a favor.

. . . .

The citadel was located on the largest island in a small chain. Days ago when I'd made my escape, I had waded at low tide to the farthest island at the end of the chain, and climbed a dangerous weathered stone stairway to the top of its rocky cliffs where there was an unmanned lighthouse, and a button for what appeared to be an emergency call transponder.

I had activated the emergency switch, and was working on sabotaging the lighthouse, which was protected inside a razor wire fence, breaking some of the rusty bolts off the gate hinges by pounding them with a heavy rock.

There had been some jugs of water, first aid supplies, and some food bars packed in a metal chest outside the lighthouse fence, so I was able to survive okay while waiting for rescue. Late one day I heard the blast of an air horn from a boat and ran to the top of the stairway. I'd been full of excitement thinking I was about to be rescued, but then saw Loredana looking up at me with binoculars from a stubby workboat. There was nowhere to run, and I wanted to cry.

I had walked a short distance away to a low stone wall, possibly the foundation of the original lighthouse, and sat down. It was where I had made my camp of sorts, a place to sleep out of the wind, and sometimes get out of the sun that had been burning my skin. Sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall, I thought that if they wanted to capture me, they would have to come up and get me.

The time passed slowly, and then a group of three women appeared at the top of the stairs. They all wore black, knee high rubber boots with flat heels. Two of them wore the black leather jackets and matching shorts, but the third wore a silver jacket with two stripes on her sleeve, and I recognized her as Anastasia, the woman who had interrogated me and supervised my torture when I'd first become stranded on the island.

Of course they saw me over by the stone foundation, but they didn't seem to be in a hurry to capture me. After all I had nowhere to run. Her dark hair blowing in the wind, Anastasia walked over to the weatherproof box on the lighthouse fence, switched off the emergency transponder, and closed the cover. Then she noticed the broken bolts on the gate hinges and I saw her pointing those out to the other women.

The group approached me with confidence. The women in black leather on either side of Anastasia, spaced evenly apart as if to tackle me should I get up and try to run away. On one side of Anastasia's belt was a large old walkie-talkie, and on the other side she wore what looked like a Makarov pistol in a black leather holster.

As they walked up, Anastasia spoke to the other ladies in their language, pointing out the pair of rubber boots that I had taken for my escape. Then she spotted the rainwater collection system that I had rigged with one of the water jugs from the lighthouse supplies, and an overcoat I had also taken from the citadel. She made them examine it, talking with enthusiasm, though they didn't seem to have much interest. When they finally came over to me, Anastasia spoke in English.

"My kolegas here do not speak your language, so I will talk to you without record. I compliment you on your escape, Mr. Van. I always say you are shifty and not to be trusted. My superiors laugh at me, call me zealot. Think you are foolish party man they can toy with for amusement, but you prove I was correct. This may lead to my promotion so..."

She was interrupted by someone on the walkie-talkie. Though the female voice spoke a foreign language and was muffled by static, I recognized it as Loredana's. Anastasia seemed annoyed to have her little speech interrupted. Unclipping the radio from her belt, she gave some quick response.

"We are taking you back to citadel, Mr. Van. My superiors will punish you for you for escape. I can assure you it will be most brutal. However, they must follow," she paused as if to think of the right word. "Protocol. Only have limited time for your punishment. Because you may have helped me get promotion, even if not your plan, I will create distraction. Cut punishment short."

The walkie-talkie cracked again. It sounded like Loredana was getting impatient, and once again Anastasia gave a brief reply with a noticeable tone of bitterness.

"We will meet again. At that time, do not attempt to speak to me without record, Mr. Van," she warned. "Many kolegas understand some bit of your language."

"Without record? You mean, off the record?" I asked.

"Without, off the record, I suppose," she seemed annoyed that I had asked, but I wanted to be sure. Promotion or not, I thought it was strange and maybe even suspicious that she offered to help me.

"Now we go back to citadel. Leave everything here as it is," she ordered. "We do not use wrist cuffs now because climb down stairs is dangerous. You come nicely and will be best for you."

. . . .

The alarm bell down the passageway had stopped ringing. The few women in the room were now smoking cigarettes and chatting. It didn't seem as if they expected Loredana to return anytime soon.

I heard one of them approaching me from behind and got nervous, but she walked around in front of me, and wiped the remains of tears from my eyes and snot from my nose. Her dark brown hair was curly and came down just past her shoulders. She wore three silver stripes on the sleeve of her black leather jacket, and I recognized her as the medic who seemed to be in charge of their infirmary.

She gave slow and deep exaggerated breaths, gesturing with her arms. I then realized I'd been hyperventilating, and attempted to get my breathing under control.

Then the lady detached my wrist restraints one at a time from the overhead beam and fastened them down at my sides, where the chain around my waist was secured to the upright posts. She roughly rubbed down my arms and the blood circulation was painfully restored.

After she walked away for a short time, she returned and applied some kind of salve to my sore buttocks. At first the cream was cool and soothing, but then it burned deeply and I started to groan. The medic held one of her index fingers up to my lips and put her other hand reassuringly on one of my shoulders, and the burning faded. Then she walked away to talk with her companions, the kolegas, as Anastasia called them.

It seemed as if I stood there for hours. I would have liked to at least get down on my knees to rest, but I didn't dare call one of the ladies over and attempt to ask them to unfasten my waist chain so I could kneel.