The Captive of San Ramiro

I had a couple more visitors, but luckily nobody else used the "special" toilet after that. Until the very end. It had to be getting late, although when you lay there in the dark time seemed to drag. Finally, the lid lifted once more. Only this time- worst of all- It was the leering face of Paul Ostermann himself. He was wearing nothing but this garish pair of leopard print boxers.

"Uh hey...um, isn't this the woman's room?" I said, meekly.

"Sure it is, but when it's my house, I can use any restroom I want!" he said, happily. "And you, well, you get to enjoy more of my hospitality. Here you go. Hope you're thirsty!" He said.

And he proceeded to let go, and pissed all over me. He was deliberately aiming at my eyes and hair, trying to drench me with stinking piss. I had never felt so disgusted with myself. A now distant, repressed part of me wanted nothing more than to stand up, rip my chains off and punch him. We both knew I wouldn't though, even if I could.

When Aurora finally arrived to unshackle me, after what seemed like two geologic ages had passed, her only words were "Go wash your hair and face, toilet. You stink of piss. I'll see you at the dock."

Neither of us spoke about any of this when the two of us went for a burger and a late night walk the following evening. It was weird, I hardly ever saw my old group of friends anymore, and weirder still that I found myself with this girl, late one night, staring down at the water, even being tempted to kiss her. Because she was so sexy and beautiful that I realized part of the reason I let her subject me to all of this was, well, maybe I did enjoy it, just a little. But only because it was her.

That Saturday was a full party on the island, and by now, Aurora assured me, there wasn't much more they could make me do that they hadn't already done. "Well, kill me maybe?" I joked.

"You piss me off and you might wish you were dead, but no, I like you too much. It would be so boring and sad without you. But we might make you suck a cock for us though..."

I got the familiar pit in my stomach that I always did once I arrived on the island. Would I please her, or would she and the girls think of something worse? As if anything could be worse in my mind, than being peed on, or turned into a homo for their enjoyment. For some reason, I was ridiculously horny that night, but my cock was resolutely locked up.

Dressed in drag, standing outside by the pool house Antonio once again accosted me, wanting a blowjob. Only this time I gave it to him eagerly and longingly, with very little encouragement from the girls, who as before, stood and watched, giggling. Antonio smiled, almost as if he knew exactly why I'd had such a change of heart. I imagined him plowing Melanie, my dream goddess, taking her from behind, giving it to her hard and wet on that hot sunlit beach. How many times over the years had I had such a fantasy? Maybe in a sense I could live vicariously through him. I imagined that I could almost taste her juices on that hard ramrod cock as I eagerly devoured it, my face bobbing up and down on him. As before though, he pulled away and slapped me down, seemingly right as he was on the verge of shooting his load into my mouth. Dimly, I heard Kayla and Aurora applaud gleefully.

Later, I had been escorted upstairs and re-shackled to the floor of that bathroom. Tonight would be a full house, and you better be prepared to being used hard, Aurora had warned me. But I was nonetheless relieved to have the chastity device removed as I lay there, with a huge throbbing hard on. It was a warm summer night with a gentle warm breeze blowing. I could hear the sounds of sex going on in the bedrooms, and outdoors even, out the open windows- and it was like sweet torment. If only I had been allowed to join in, just once, with just one of these gorgeous, scantily clad bikini-liscious girls. But in a way, with me in the lowest station of the low, this was almost as thrilling. A girl had been in here earlier; tall, wavy brown hair, curvy, athletic body- I thought I had recognized her as being Aurora's friend Danielle. The way she had used me though, cruelly teasing me as she pissed all over me, had gotten me really hot. Some of the girls who came in and used me liked to rub it in (sometimes literally) that they were getting fucked hard while I couldn't even touch my own cock, not as long as I was in the captive hell of San Ramiro Island.

Then, I heard the familiar click of footsteps again on the marble floor. I trembled in helpless anticipation and my cock sprung into attention.

The toilet lid lifted. I saw a tan, gorgeous girl quickly sit down. She was wearing nothing but a tiny plaid, pleated blue and white skirt with no panties on underneath. That "naughty little schoolgirl outfit" that always drove me so wild when I had seen Kayla dressed like that, and especially- when I had seen Melanie in such an outfit, that first night, so long ago. But now, I lay back in anticipation. This girl's trim, honey blonde bush was a half inch from my mouth, and I could smell her hot body, smell how sexy she was, but that was not all. Her face- she had turned away quickly so as to avoid looking down at me, but speaking of Melanie, wasn't this...was this...actually HER?

I had briefly caught a glimpse of her honey blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail the way I always remembered her. And then, just a glint of those piercing blue eyes, those eyes that would melt you in your tracks. A thousand thoughts began racing through my head. My heart was pounding harder, and my cock, swollen almost beyond its limits, actually began to drip with pre-ejaculate.

She never spoke. Not even a "How are you doing down there?" or a mocking tease, or even a hello. She just sat down, hiked up her skirt, then simply let flow a rush of piss, drenching me, and filling my open and greedy mouth. I swallowed, savoring and tasting her wastes, reveling in my own disgust and perverse lusts. But queerly feeling like, at last, I was intimate with the girl of my dreams- but like this, in these circumstances? Never, in a million years, would I have wanted it to be this way.

As she finished, I ran my tongue along her ass crack and pussy, wanting to savor the taste of her luscious blonde body. But it was only momentary. She quickly stood up, and I heard her give a grunt of disgust as she quickly turned away to avoid looking at me. She closed the lid and walked away, leaving me in darkness. Her clicking heels receded into the distance. With that, I realized sadly that she was now forever and hopelessly beyond my reach.

Nonetheless, I savored the bitter taste in my mouth, and I began to imagine Melanie with her lover then, outside on that beach, being taken in the fragrant warm summer breeze, riding that huge throbbing baseball bat cock, and that final thought was too much for my own unleashed cock to handle. I had only barely rubbed it against the sides of the funnel they had set up for me to pee in. But it was all too much and I let go, gasping and shuddering, as my cock exploded into the funnel in a ripping, powerful orgasm. I lay there, panting, and quickly grew terrified that I would be punished for cumming without permission.

Sure enough, before long I heard more muffled footsteps, and almost before I realized someone had entered the bathroom, I heard Kayla's voice say, in her catty, snarky tone:

"Had a little accident, did we?"

My heart sank.

"Tsk tsk...ooohhh, your little peepee let go huh? Couldn't hold it? Ohhh, that's too bad!"

From under the toilet lid, I replied, "I'm so sorry Kayla, I tried to hold it in, I..."

Then I felt a bolt of fire across my legs and crotch. Kayla had brought her whip with her, and proceeded to go at me.

"I never said you could SPEAK, Toilet Slut! And I hope you know what Aurora does with leaky toilets. She discards them!"

I felt another lash, scorching the tip of my penis. This time, I screamed.

"THAT is nothing compared to what you are going to get later on, after I tell your Aurora about your little accident! Hope you're ready, toilet slut!" she sneered.

For the next hour, I lay there in mortal terror of the punishment I knew was coming.

Aurora said nothing to me as the night ended, refusing even to answer my questions, only hooking my cock cage and leash up and dragging me, forcefully, down into the basement. The few remaining guests melted away from her hard gaze, and my utterly pathetic, pee-drenched hair and face. Down into the dungeon, she quickly wasted no time in shackling me to the wall. She then walked into the next room.

When she returned, she held a pair of pruning shears.

"When you cum without my permission, you break more than just a rule. You deeply upset me and disappoint me. You violate all rights you have to that little pathetic cock, forever. Since it technically belongs to me, maybe it will be better off preserved in a jar on my desk, where it won't get you in any more trouble, right?"

Stooping over, she held the shears open at my crotch, then slowly closed them. I could feel them pinching my ball sack. Her eyes were merciless. She tightened them some more, till the shears were painfully pinching the skin of my scrotum, making it bleed. Oh God, was she really going to do this? The terror I felt then was like nothing I had experienced before. My bowels felt loose, like they were about to let go right there onto the dungeon floor, and I was sweating, shaking, in mortal terror.

I was blubbering. "I'm so sorry, please, it was an accident, are you really going to do this, please Mistress, Aurora, goddess, I...I didn't mean it, it was an accident..."

Then, Aurora only laughed, and said, "Oh well, I guess accidents happen. Maybe next time we'll just stick you in the MEN's restroom."

"It won't happen again! I'm sorry I orgasmed without permission! I just... I was thinking of you and, you are just so sexy and beautiful, I wanted...I wanted YOU!"

And I truly meant that. I realized how I longed for the closeness and intimacy of her strength, power and beauty. I also realized that whatever had happened with Melanie, I now had Aurora, or rather; Aurora had me. She was my dream girl now. She understood me, understood what I was feeling, and it was she who had led me down this path of dark sexuality. She could be the only girl I could ever truly want. And oh, how I wanted to please her- no matter how degrading her demands, it brought delicious, but naughty (and sometimes painful) delights. She had turned me into a total pervert, I realized, but did I care anymore? I'd gotten over every kind of squeamishness I might have once had, and she had broadened my horizons in so many ways beyond the debased kinky acts I have described. And I loved her for it.

And of course, I never orgasmed without her permission again. But when she let me have my release- those rare moments, always in her presence, and often in embarrassing and humiliating ways- oh, was it ever powerful.

And so for the next year and a half, my life revolved around the island and its residents. And most of all, around my slave mistress, Aurora, who I spent more and more time with. When I saw old friends, which I did less and less frequently, they wondered why I rarely hung out with them anymore. I would tell them how I met this gorgeous girl, and spent time with her at the wild sex parties on the island of San Ramiro. I often wondered how many of them would be jealous if they really knew the whole story. Aurora had never invited any of them to join our little sex club the way Zach and Erika had invited me, although my friend Darrell, when he finally met her, had commented on how my new girlfriend was "Wicked fucking hot, but I dunno man, she seems kinda bossy!"

As for Zach, he had never really accepted his role as a slave on the island. More than once, he had come to me, pleading about how he wanted his old life back. It wasn't working for him and never did. I understood, but I simply didn't share his despair. We were surrounded by the hottest, sexiest women in the world. What Zach thought of as a nightmare, I had discovered, in the deepest part of my mind, was a dark and repressed fantasy that I felt truly lucky to be living. But nonetheless, Zach had threatened a lawsuit, and threatened to have people arrested for how he was treated. So ultimately Erika- and Paul Ostermann as well- had felt obliged to give him his release. I respected his decision, as any sane person would. He was certainly not the first, not the last, slave who was let go after threatening a lawsuit. Some men simply could not handle being abused as sex slaves, especially with what was demanded of them out there. Anyway, I never saw Zach after that.

About 19 months after my first date with destiny on the island, an aggrieved husband and wealthy businessman named George Rathmann had discovered his wife's liaisons, and had stormed ashore, armed to the teeth and seeking revenge. In the ensuing melee, his wife Lynette and one other man had been killed, and three others were wounded, one of them seriously. It was Vonsell who had quickly tackled him and disarmed him before things could get any worse, although the gunshot wound he had received had effectively ended his NFL career. When authorities arrived on the island and arrested Mr. Rathmann (finding him already chained up in the basement, ironically) the lifestyle and debauchery of the island became exposed and quickly made national headlines. And that was the beginning of the end of the sex club- and my stint there.

Ostermann was forced to abandon his island party mansion, not only as a result of the media circus, but as it turned out, he had defrauded investors of several million dollars in a bogus scheme. The State of California had seized the island to pay off the victims, and they eventually made it part of a wildlife refuge. Ostermann had only barely finagled his way out of a lengthy prison stint.

I never spoke to Melanie again at work- it just felt too awkward. She avoided me as well. She had eventually quit Pulex Engineering to marry a wealthy real estate developer. Only, the word got around that her hew husband had quickly divorced her within a year. The rumor was, she had given birth to a baby with dark, Hispanic features that clearly was not his.

After the island had closed down, Kayla had become the manager of the adult novelty store she worked at, but quickly realized that it was much more rewarding- and satisfying- to work as a professional dominatrix. She ended up making enough cash to put most strippers to shame, and had a lot more fun doing it. I still see her from time to time.

And as for Aurora, well, as you may have guessed by now- she became my wife. She had asked to move in with me shortly after things had ended, and it had just felt right. It had somehow turned out almost perfect. She got a lucrative job as a realtor and became hugely successful very quickly. She is, as you would imagine, a very driven person. Her extreme tastes in sexual behavior subsided- just a little bit- but what sometimes went on behind the closed doors of the home we had purchased together would still make many normal people blush. And let's just say, we had- and still have- a very open relationship, despite our love and devotion to each other.

And so, 20 years later, it was Aurora who was here with me now, standing in the shadowy empty ruins of the mansion's basement. She looked up at me and smiled an evil and all too familiar smile.

"Look at this place. Someone hasn't taken very good care of it..." she said, still smiling, but shaking her head.

"I guess not!"

"Well then... Someone's gonna pay. Pull down those shorts and BEND OVER!" she cried.

Then, reaching into her purse, she pulled out a leather strap.