Chapter 8: Tessa

I feel elated to be on my way back to the island. My membership of La Chatte Heureuse expires in just over a month, so a two week stay at this time is literally my last opportunity to visit. I’ve still to secure employment after completing my studies, and there’s no way I can afford to renew my membership without a steady income. I graduated university with good grades, but so did scores of others. I’m not the only graduate currently struggling to find work.

My original plan was to time my visit with my friend Jessica, but she recently lost her job as head cook of a large restaurant, so she’s in the same situation as me. While I’m entitled to one week’s free accommodation on the island, I struck a deal with the club management to enable me to stay for a fortnight. In exchange for the extra week’s accommodation I’m to work as a Field Slave during my fortnight stay. Providing I work at least forty-five hours during the fortnight, I will have earned enough to cover the cost of the extra week’s stay.

“Is Faye not joining you this trip?” asks Lady Kirsty as she checks off my details before I board the bus.

“No. She’s overseas at the moment. I don’t know when she’ll return,” I reply, remembering that I don’t need to use anyone’s caste honorific until we are on the island.

“Well, welcome back. You’ll find a few things different under the new management but I’m sure Brooke and Elise will be glad that you are here.”

The journey to the island is much smoother than when I was last here over Christmas and New Year. The weather is pleasant after yesterday’s heavy rain. I disembark from the boat to find an attractive blond slave loading everyone’s luggage onto the trailer. Previously we were expected to haul our own luggage up to the administration building. This is clearly one of the changes that Lady Kirsty meant. I wait in line to deposit my bag on the trailer.

“Handle my luggage with care, Slave!” snaps one of the newly arrived members, as a piece of luggage slides out of place.

I don’t recall seeing the woman before, but her attitude reeks of Mistress caste snobbery.

“Yes, Madame,” replies the blond slave, carefully re-stacking the item in question.

“What’s your name, Slave?” probes the snotty woman.

“Melissa, Madame,” says the slave with a slight curtsy.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you while I’m here,” growls the woman as she sets off with some of the others towards the administration building.

“That’s Madame Natasha,” says one of the other members to Melissa. “Keep clear of her if you can. She’s one of the worst bitches in the Mistress caste.”

Hearing Madame Natasha’s name jogs my memory. I’ve not encountered her before, but I recall that last year she was one of Madame Faye’s rivals for the honour of being La Chatte Heureuse’s super-bitch.

As a member of the Slave caste, I must wait until those of the Mistress and Lady castes are registered first at reception. I go through to the Slave Holding Area and join the other ten newly arrived slaves. I recognise a couple of the slaves from my previous visits, but neither are close friends of mine. Since our real lives remain private while we are on the island, the conversation is stilted and confined to bland pleasantries. After a fifteen minute wait we are called through to reception one-by-one.