Chapter 4: Cucumbers

The final building on our tour is the tower-like structure which was once the main house. I presume the original owner, Obadiah Greenway, had it built like this to intimidate his neighbours and employees. I can’t imagine any other reason for someone to build his house like a 12th century castle. There are wide steps leading up to the single entrance to the tower. The strong wooden doors open into the second floor. Despite the austere outside, the inside of the tower is remarkably inviting. I don’t know if this is as a result of the refurbishment or whether it has always been this way. The room we enter is a huge open area with staircases in each corner leading to the other floors. The floor is covered with boxes and stacks of furniture which those working in here are moving to the other levels. There’s plenty of light despite the small narrow windows high in the wall. This has been achieved by building the five floors above us like a square doughnut wrapped around a tall atrium.

“This floor will be where special events are held, Lady,” says Brooke. “The floors above and below will provide accommodation for members participating in those events. It will mean that we can hold more special events and not interfere with other members who want to use the regular facilities. I think Madame Monique is hoping to run special events almost continuously.”

“Does La Chatte Heureuse have enough members to support that level of activity?” I query.

“I don’t know, but Madame Monique believes that we do, Lady. All the previous special events have been fully booked, and it’s only the shortage of accommodation and facilities which have prevented more members from staying here at other times. The number of members here at the moment is fewer than usual because Madame Monique made it a requirement that members staying here this week must help with finishing the refurbishment of the tower. Unfortunately there were a lot of members who had booked to stay this week but cancelled at the last minute.”

“Too afraid of breaking one of their nails, I presume,” I reply.

“Something like that, Lady.”

We stand for a few moments watching the activity going on around us. A group of women are busy moving furniture from a stack at the back of the second floor and hauling it up to the higher levels using a winch mounted in the atrium. It’s easy to identify the Slaves by their naked tits, and Mistresses by their leather clothing.

I look around me and notice the diverse age range of the members. Before arriving I had assumed that the club’s members would all be in the twenty- or thirty-something age range. That age group is well represented among those here, but at least six of the members I can see are in the forty plus age group, and at the other end of the scale, another four look to be no older than their late teens.

“How did all this furniture get here?” I ask, realising that the boat we arrived on would need hundreds of trips to carry all this here.

“There’s a service road at the north end of the valley. It connects the highway with a storage warehouse at the wharf we use for transporting supplies. Trucks deliver the goods to the warehouse and twice a week there are contractors who come to move whatever is in the warehouse onto the barge moored at the wharf. Lady Kirsty collects the barge and brings it to the island. Field slaves are assigned to unload the barge and store the goods wherever they are required.”

Because of all the activity going on in the tower, we skip a tour of the upper levels. However we take a brief look at the lower floor which has been fitted out as accommodation for Slaves participating in special events. The four dormitories in the depths of the tower are smaller than those I saw earlier this afternoon, each housing twelve slaves. The rest of the floor is allocated for bathrooms and storage facilities. Unlike upstairs, this level seems to be ready for use.

With our tour complete, Brooke and I return to the administration building where Brooke introduces me to Ruth, whose normal duties include cooking and preparing our meals. She seems anxious to return to her regular duties, especially as the two slaves normally assigned to help her are currently busy working in the tower.

“If there is nothing else that you require, Lady, I’ll return to my duties,” says Brooke to me.

I would normally thank Brooke for showing me around, but I remember that she’s a slave, and that I should treat her as such. I simply confirm that she can return to her work while I collect the other top and skirt I selected earlier. Ruth mentioned that the evening meal starts at seven o’clock, so I’ve a couple of hours to kill. After placing my spare uniform in my wardrobe, I go to find the kitchen to see if Ruth needs a helping hand.

“Bless you, dear,” says Ruth in a motherly sort of way. “Get an apron from the drawer over there. Wouldn’t do to spoil your nice new uniform.”

Ruth must be in her late thirties or early forties. She’s kept herself fit and she could pass for someone ten years younger if you didn’t study her features too closely. Like me she is dressed in a sexy black vinyl outfit although hers is a slightly more modest style to mine. Her footwear is more appropriate for working in a kitchen than my boots, but there’s not much I can do about that at the moment. I find an apron and Ruth sets me to work preparing a salad.

“How many are you cooking for?” I ask.

“Just the staff and guests. The members organise their own meals. There are various facilities for preparing meals around the estate ranging from the kitchenettes in the Mistresses rooms to the large communal kitchen in E4.”

I recall from my tour that each building has an alphanumeric identifier, and that E4 was the slave quarters Brooke showed me around. I don’t recall seeing a kitchen when I was there, but I was preoccupied with seeing the dungeon, and I didn’t look around the whole building.

“So the Mistresses prepare their own meals?” I ask.

“If they want, but usually they get one of the slaves assigned to the task.”

“So who allocates the slaves to all these different duties?” I ask.

“Stephanie oversees the slaves, and Grace attends to meeting the needs of the Mistresses. The Ladies are left to organise themselves, although I expect that dealing with them will become part of your duties.”

The kitchen is spacious and well equipped so we soon have a meal underway. In helping Ruth, I feel less guilty about creating extra work for Ruth by diverting Brooke away from her regular duties, particularly the ten minutes we spent with our romp in the stables.

“How long have you worked at La Chatte Heureuse?” I ask.

“Since it opened,” replies Ruth. “Monique and I are old friends from our days at college.”

“You must like working here. Have you never wanted to leave?”

“I love cooking and the lifestyle here is to my liking. When I say Monique and I are old friends, I should perhaps have said that we are lovers.”

“Oh! That’s ... um ... interesting,” I say clumsily. “It must be nice having somebody special in your life.”

“I’m sure there will be people here who may appeal to you, Nicole,” says Ruth. “I think young Brooke has taken a fancy to you. Play your cards right and you could become lovers. Or there’s Olivia. She’s a year or two older and she’s unattached at the moment. Or you can form a relationship with a club member, although they are usually short term affairs since few members can spare the time, or afford the cost, of staying here for more than a few weeks.”

“So staff having sexual liaisons with other staff or club members isn’t forbidden?”

“Oh my goodness, no! Not only is it allowed, it is expected. If you ever find yourself wanting sex with anyone here, don’t be shy about asking them. Nobody will take offence, even if the answer is ‘no’. Slaves must submit to the demands of a Mistress, but that’s the only situation where non-consensual sex is tolerated.”

I pause our conversation while I digest what Ruth has told me. There were certainly women I saw this afternoon whom I felt attracted towards. But could I ever be bold enough to walk up to someone I hardly know and ask to have sex with them. Perhaps I could manage it in the right setting. I didn’t have too much difficulty with Brooke. When I break out of my thoughts I realise Ruth is standing behind me. She unfastens the neck and waist straps of my apron and places my apron on one side of the workbench.

“Am I permitted?” she asks.

I could act dumb and ask ‘permitted to do what?’, but after our conversation, and this afternoon’s events, I’m not going to appear to be a naive fool. So my answer needs to be yes or no.

“Yes, okay.”

Ruth doesn’t hesitate. She reaches around me and unfastens my top. I don’t resist as she removes it. I try to turn around to reciprocate her advances, but she gently holds me in place so that I remain facing the worktop with Ruth standing behind me. Seconds later her hands are roaming over my tits. My nipples are already going hard, but Ruth’s ministrations help them to become as hard as bullets. I can feel my arousal mounting, and I encourage her increasingly firm massaging of my tits by letting out sighs of contentment.