Chapter 37: Sheila's Blue Girl Interview, Continued

Crane was seated behind his desk, and the two girls were in the armchairs that faced it. He leaned back in his swivel chair and rested his bare feet on his desk. His sandals, Sheila noticed, were on the carpet under his desk.

"I no longer own you," he told Sheila, "and my decision about hiring you depends on whether your current owner will sell you back to me."

Sheila wondered if Lindsey would agree to that. She remembered that Kelly had been owned before applying for a blue girl position. Sheila decided that, later, she would ask Kelly if her owner had objected when Kelly applied for her blue girl job.

"Oh," Sheila said. "I-I thought that, since you're the manager, that it was your decision."

Crane raised his eyebrows.

"You forgot to address me properly, Sheila," Crane said. His mild tone didn't delude Sheila; she felt certain that he meant what he said. "You're a slave, and you'll remain one, whether Lindsey owns you or I do. The next time you forget, I'll have you whipped."

"I-I'm sorry, Master," Sheila said, frightened.

"Who bought her, Master?" Kelly asked. "Wasn't it Lindsey?"

Crane nodded.

"I'll offer Lindsey her money back, but I think it likely that she'll reject my offer. During the auction, she seemed determined to buy Sheila. Whenever another client made a bid, I saw Lindsey's light come on, and she made a counter bid. I never had a client want a slave that much.

"During the auction, I was surprised that she bid so high," he said. "Lindsey is certainly aware that any slave, even one with a body as desirable as Sheila's, becomes available once her owner has left the island. When the bidding reached the stratosphere, Lindsey could have easily let Hugo have her. She knows that Hugo doesn't stay here long, and Lindsey could have rented Sheila as soon as he left the island. The cost to her would have been much less than she paid during the auction."

"W-What will happen to me, if she won't take your money back ... Master?" Sheila asked. She hadn't expected this.

Crane shrugged. "You'll be her slave for the length of her stay here. Last season Lindsey vacationed here for about two months. Of course, it's possible that she will want me to keep you on ice. If she does, I'll keep you in a cell and not use you as a rental. I'll still use you as a menial, in the kitchen and for cleaning bathrooms and so on. I'll probably fuck you myself, but I'll guarantee to Lindsey that no client will. If she wants to pay for my putting you on ice, that's her choice. Not too many clients pay to keep a female on ice; they usually want a fresh slave on their next sojourn here.

"Frankly, I have no special desire to hire you. The amount that Lindsey paid me for you was the most I've ever gotten for a female slave. Fifty thousand is a lot, and I'd like to keep it. I'm only proceeding with this interview because of the promise I made to all of you raw trainees when you arrived. I need more blue girls to work for me, but not at the high price that I'll have to pay for you."

Sheila absorbed his statement with unease. If Crane turned down her application to work for him, how would she ever obtain her shoes that contained the transmitter? She might be kept as a sex slave for years. Over that time her owners would compel her to do things that she probably couldn't imagine! She had already heard conversations of some of his clients. She recalled that couple who had discussed her buttocks on the day she arrived. The intentions of both the man and the woman, if they obtained her in the forthcoming auction, had shocked her.

Gaining access to the transmitter was the only way that she, Ed, and Wendy could possibly escape from this awful place. Ed was down in that basement cell with Bill, both of them handcuffed. There was no way that Ed could help. As for Wendy, she was mounted on Crane's wall, naked. There would be no help from her.

Sheila saw no other way for them to escape the island. Her becoming a blue girl and obtaining the transmitter was their only chance!

Whatever Crane tells me to do, I'll do!

One of the three doors in the wall behind Crane opened, and a willowy brunette with stylish gold-rimmed glasses and wearing a blue girl dress, entered. She carried a large tray which was loaded up. To avoid an accident with it, the girl carried it slowly, watching its contents carefully without glancing up.

On it, Sheila could see a coffee urn, two pitchers, a jar that Sheila assumed contained sugar, four sets of cups and saucers, and a stack of small trays. She also saw four small glass containers that resembled shot glasses but were much smaller, perhaps half-size.

"Your coffee, Master," the girl said, continuing to look down. She held the tray up and curtseyed.

Then the girl noticed Sheila and Kelly. A strange expression, perhaps of unease, crossed the girl's countenance. Sheila had never met the girl before; so, the girl's reaction seemed odd.

Crane lowered his feet, and the girl deposited the tray on the desk.

Sheila thought the girl attractive, but she wasn't the voluptuous type that seemed typical of Crane's female slaves, with their curvaceous figures and large breasts. Her figure was slender and svelte. Sheila could have mistaken her for a sixteen year old high school girl, were it not for her womanly breasts and shapely legs. Her moderately-sized breasts seemed that of a woman of at least eighteen; the same seemed the case for her long and shapely legs. Sheila estimated the girl's age at about two years less than her own twenty-two years.

Crane glanced up. "Thank you, Sarah."

"Is that all?"

"Certainly not! I expect the usual extras. Besides that, you forgot to address me properly!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Master. B-But, you're busy," she asked, nervously glancing in the direction of Sheila and Kelly.

"You'll deliver the extras," Crane said, not bothering to look up at her.

The girl appeared discomfited, and Sheila thought she was blushing.

"W-Well, uh ... d-do you want the 'double-u' or the 'ess'?"

"You forgot my title again, slave!" he shouted. This time he looked up at her, obviously angry.

Sheila was startled by the harshness of his voice. Her heart began beating rapidly. Sheila wondered if she'd made a sensible decision in wanting to work for him.

I have no choice, I must.

"I-I'm sorry, Master. I-I'll bring the strap."

"I want the cat," he countered; "You've become careless."

Sheila was perplexed. Now, despite his words, which were uttered in a firm tone, he no longer seemed angry. Still, his previous outburst still had her heart racing, and she felt afraid of him. His personality was impossible to read!

"Th-The cat?" the brunette said, wide-eyed.

"You heard me!"

Crane placed a coffee cup under the spigot of the urn and delivered a stream of black coffee into it. He closed the spigot and looked up at her.

In a mild tone he said, "As for your question, Sarah; which do we have more of--the 'double-u' or the 'ess'?"

"The 'double-u', Master. I've worked on Wendy for ten hours."

"Good. Bring all of it. Now, bring me the cat. Afterwards, if you're a good slave and perform well, I'll allow you to spend the afternoon producing the 'ess'."

The girl appeared relieved. She smiled. "Oh, thank you, Master! I'll be good, I promise!"

She curtsied and left the room.

Crane stood up. "Coffee, Kelly?" he asked. He slid another cup beneath the urn's spigot.

"Yes, Master. Cream and two sugars."

Crane prepared the coffee and carried it to Kelly on one of the small trays. Kelly placed it on her lap. "Thank you, Master."

"Coffee, Sheila?" Crane asked, looking down at her.

Sheila was glad that Kelly had obtained some first. "Yes, please. One sugar, but no cream."

Suddenly Sheila realized her omission, and a surge of fear went through her. She blurted out, "Master."

Crane smiled. He returned to his desk and filled another cup.

Sheila regretted not having requested cream. She'd been starving since her arrival on the island. Cream would have given her a few more calories.

However, she was afraid of Crane's reaction if she expressed her change of mind. She preferred to remain hungry than face his anger.

When Crane brought her tray, she noticed that, in addition to the anticipated coffee with its cup and saucer, a linen napkin, and a spoon on the tray, the latter held one of the miniature 'shot glasses'.

Kelly's tray had the same objects, including the shot glass.

Whatever the latter's purpose, Sheila decided that she'd observe how Kelly used hers. If Kelly ignored it, she could ask Kelly later about it.

Crane had returned to his chair but, instead of pouring his own coffee, he did something odd.

He pushed his swivel chair back on its casters, moved it to the side of his desk on which the coffee tray lay; then he swiveled the chair ninety degrees, placing him beside the tray. His position now gave Sheila and Kelly a view of him in profile instead of face-on.

Sheila was inattentive, worried about what would happen to her if the Lindsey woman kept her. Her imagination filled with nightmarish scenes of her serving as the lesbian's sex slave.

When Sarah returned, she held a stranded short whip in one hand and a small bottle in the other. Preoccupied, Sheila barely glanced at her.

When she eventually looked up, she saw Sarah standing before Crane, offering him the two objects.

Crane ignored her. "Sheila and Kelly," he said, stirring with the spoon and swiveling his chair to look across at them; "Which of you wants to discipline Sarah?"

Sheila certainly didn't want to use the whip. She didn't respond. She was astonished to hear Kelly say, "Sheila needs the experience, Master."

Crane shrugged. He accepted the whip from Sarah and held it out by its spaghetti-like strands in Sheila's direction, handle toward her.

Damn Kelly! Why did she say that?!

She had little choice, and she forced a smile to hide her nervousness. She put her tray down on the carpet, rose from her chair, and reached over the desk for the whip.

Its handle was of some dark wood and was contoured with depressions for fingers. As she flexed it, it seemed to fit her hand well. Its strands were probably leather. They were roughly the thickness of cooked spaghetti and seemed just as supple. The ends of the ten or twelve strands (she didn't count them) were small metal balls--pellets, really--about the size of those used for an air rifle.

Holding it by its contoured handle, Sheila felt diffident. She wasn't sure what to do, and she turned to the blue girl beside her. "W-Would you instruct me, Kelly?"

Kelly laughed. "What's your problem, Kiddo?" she asked.

"You've seen us blue girls use whips. Just do like me and Nina. Whatever you do, don't be easy on her!"

Sheila still lacked any confidence that she could discipline the girl. If she were ten years older than Sarah, the girl would probably respect her because of the age difference. But she doubted that she was more than two or three years older than the brunette.

Sheila herself had never disobeyed a guard or trainer; in fact, she had never even considered disobedience. But, would Sarah feel the same as she?

To add to her nervousness, she felt foolish.

I'm a little older than she is. Maybe I can intimidate her.

She raised the whip. In a tone that she hoped sounded authoritative, she said, "Put the bottle down, Sarah. Come here!"

The girl lowered her eyes. To Sheila's relief, she replied, "Yes, Mistress," and approached.

In the same tone, Sheila told her, "Bend over the desk!"

To her gratification Sarah obeyed. She rested her cheek upon her hands, which were palms down on the glossy varnished top of Crane's desk.

Sheila reached down behind the girl and grasped the hem of the blue girl's dress. She pulled it to the girl's waist and held it bunched in her hand. She reached over the desktop and grabbed one of the girl's wrists. She pulled Sarah's arm back and then enclosed Sarah's fingers about the material.

"Hold it there," she ordered.

Sarah was naked from her waist to her slippers. Her buttocks, creamy-white and chubby, were ideally positioned for the whip.

Sheila raised the cat and drew it back. The metal pellets at the ends of the strands stroked over her shoulder near her neck and tickled.

"This is for not addressing Master Crane properly, Sarah," she said.

She swung the leather and metal, and they struck the girl's chubby cheeks hard, indenting them. The report it made wasn't loud, but it was a funny sound, something like 'whik! whik! whik!' but nearly simultaneously, a bit like the sound of kissing by a dozen couples at one time.

"Ow!" Sarah cried.

Six or seven tiny pink dots appeared in the skin of her buttocks. Two raised pink lines extended across both cheeks-welts.

"Count!" Sheila ordered.

"One! Thank you, Mistress!"

Sheila struck her buttocks, again and again.

A few moments ago, Sheila had dreaded applying the whip.

Now, to her surprise, she didn't feel at bad using it. Her conscience didn't bother her at all.

She could hardly admit it to herself, but ... each time that her arm felt the whip strike ... and each time she heard the sound of its impact into Sarah's flesh ... and each time she heard the girl scream, she felt a thrill!

When Sarah cried, "Ow!", "Five!" and, "Thank you Mistress!" Kelly suddenly grasped Sheila's arm and stopped her.

"What's the matter?" Sheila asked, surprised. "Why did you stop me?"

"You'll have to start over," Kelly said.

Sheila stared at the blue girl, in disbelief. She felt that she was doing well.

She even felt pride in how accurately she had swung the whip. The pink dots and lines were exclusively on Sarah's buttocks, without a single mark on her back or thighs.

Rather than expecting criticism, she had expected Kelly to be pleased with her. She had even hoped for some praise from Crane.

Can she be jealous that I learned so quickly?

"Why, Kelly?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

"I'll show you, Kiddo."

Sheila watched.

Kelly took the cat from her and she moved until she stood beside Sarah, who was still bent over. Aiming carefully, the blue girl brought it across the girl's buttocks, hard.

Sarah shrieked.

Sheila was shocked. Kelly's blow had struck much lower than any of her blows had! Not only had the pellets struck Sarah's buttocks, they had also impacted her thighs. Because of the girl's position, leaning upon the desktop, her pudenda were exposed. They protruded prominently from between her thighs. Several of the weighty pellets had struck directly upon them.

Kelly waited calmly, arms akimbo, for the girl's sobs to subside. Then she leaned down, until her head was upon the desktop, her face before Sarah's. Smiling, she asked, "Well?"

Sarah wiped tears from a cheek. She choked out, "Th-Thank you, Mistress!

Kelly stood up. She asked Sheila, "Didn't you wonder why Crane asked for the cat?"

"I didn't know that a cat was special," Sheila responded.

"Listen, Kiddo, if Crane just wants a slave's ass spanked, he wants a strap," Kelly told her.

"If he thinks she deserves a really sore ass, he'll ask you for a riding whip. When we go to the shed to get your supplies, I'll show you one. They're made of birch, and they're real flexible. No matter how hard you swing one, it won't break. And, wow, Kiddo, do they ever sting!"

Kelly grinned. "If you whip a slave with one of those, she won't sit down for a week!"

"But, Master Crane asked for the cat," Sheila said.

"Hold your horses--I was getting to that. If a Master tells you to use a cat, you'll know that he's really pissed. You better use it like I just did."

"Ten strokes there?!" Sheila exclaimed. "I couldn't stand getting hit there even once!"

Kelly shrugged. "Well, maybe don't give her ten in a row there," she conceded.

"The idea is to make sure she doesn't make the same mistake again. She'll remember what it feels like to get whipped on her chicken wings."

She returned the whip to Sheila. "I'd say, give it to her like that, maybe every third swing, Kidd. She'll remember that."

"A-All right," Sheila said.

If I want this blue girl job, I don't dare allow my conscience to bother me.

She raised the cat again. She aimed and struck the first blow at the center of the girl's creamy buttocks, as before.

She aimed the second blow much lower.

Only about half of the pellets struck the the girl's buttocks. The rest impacted her pudenda, including the delicate inner ones.