A quick trip to the body modification suite

Your legs buckle when you're released from your bonds and you're allowed to sink to your knees on the sandy floor. Diana works the gag out of your mouth and you groan with relief as your jaw is freed of its oversized intruder.

"Jenna, meet Fuckholes. Fuckholes, this is my girlfriend, Jenna. Say hello."

"Hello, Jenna. Pleased to meet you," the woman says brightly, seemingly unconcerned about being covered in your juices.

"Um, hello…Fuckholes," you croak back, throat slightly sore after wearing that gag for so long. You suppose it makes sense that a woman here on her own might choose to use a fake name to preserve her privacy away from the resort and wonder whether she chose the soubriquet for herself or was given it by another. Either way, she doesn't seem to mind it.

"I found her being gangbanged in the voyeur room," your girlfriend explains. "The men let me have her if I promised to find them a replacement." She looks you over, as though considering you for the job (or more likely calculating how you'd react if she did lend you to a bunch of strangers), but just shrugs and beckons you to follow her. You stumble to your feet, trying to work some life back into your stiff limbs. Thankfully, Fuckholes has taken over your old job of carrying all the stuff. You're not sure what this means for the relative hierarchy between you.

The bar is a bit busier this late in the day. The woman beside you on the wall when you were tied up has gone, replaced by two other women, the elder sobbing into the boards, her pale back lacerated by multiple strokes from a heavy whip; the younger darker skinned, facing the room, a powerful vibrator strapped to her pudenda, already looking exhausted from **** orgasms. Lucky bitch. You weave between the mostly occupied tables and onto the beach, careful to avoid inviting further punishments by jostling the customers, master or ****.

The sun is low enough in the sky that it's no longer blisteringly hot on your unprotected skin, but the evening is still easily warm enough to be naked outside. Your mistress leads you back towards the hotel, then stops abruptly and changes direction towards a pair of really beautiful brunettes reclining nude on sun loungers, empty cocktail glasses by their sides. The younger is very fair skinned and the elder tanned, but apart from that, they look so similar that you initially assume they're sisters. Getting closer, you see the darker girl has the white collar of a singleton and the other the black collar of an owned submissive, but both the dials are set to green, meaning they're available for free use by other visitors. They look up as the three of you approach.

"Is your master around, honey?" Diana asks the younger one, but it's the other who replies.

"I'm actually switching. It's her first time here and she was nervous, so we put me down as her owner so I could keep her on red for a while, while she got used to the place."

"But she's on green, now."

"Well…when he found out I was a switch, the first man we met ordered me to change her to green straight away, so…"

Her companion pouts unhappily but doesn't voice any complaint. The fact that the man's now gone but she's still on green suggests the situation suits one or both of the girls as it is. Maybe the switch even planned it this way.

"Would you mind sending her off to beg the ugliest man on the beach to take her up the arse while we have a chat?"

The younger girl gives a gasp at your mistress's request. "Mum?" She appeals plaintively to her own, but receives no reprieve.

"You heard the nice woman, Desi. Go and find the most repulsive man you can and beg him to fuck your arsehole. Go on."

She gives a mewl of distress, but gets up without hesitation and jogs away, presumably to follow instructions. Diana sits in her seat and relates Fuckholes's story again, but in slightly more detail.

"This one was getting gangbanged when I saw her. The men were trying to persuade her to let one of them claim her, but she was being stubborn, so I intervened and we came to a deal. I could take her away if I promised to find a replacement. I was thinking they would love a go at breaking you, but maybe you'd rather send your daughter to them, instead."

"Stepdaughter," she corrects automatically and you half expect Diana to pull her up on talking to her betters like that, but she just smiles.

"Of course, you're far to young to have a daughter her age," she flatters and the stepmother preens.

"Yes, I think that would really help Desi get accustomed to the resort. I'll send her along as soon as she gets back, miss…?"

"Diana. They're in room three eleven. Make sure she tells them I sent her."

"Yes, miss Diana. And is there anything else I can do for you?" She licks her lips suggestively.

"Hmm. Not right now, but maybe we'll see you again—perhaps with a redder bottom next time."

"Yes, miss Diana. I'll get right on that."

Your mistress gives another of those grins that make you go all quivery and surges to her feet. You and Fuckholes race to follow as she resumes her journey towards the building.

"They looked so alike, I thought they were actually related," the middle-eastern woman exclaims once out of earshot.

"Some men have a type," Diana replies and Fuckholes screws her face up in disgust.

"You mean he's attracted to girls who look like his own daughter?"

"No," you clarify, knowing exactly what your girlfriend is thinking, "she probably takes after her mother and the second wife looks like her."

"Ohhh…that makes sense."

Diana turns right inside the hotel and leads you along a corridor past a range of numbered playrooms and through a set of soundproof double doors labelled Body Modification Suite. Inside are curtained alcoves separated into areas with overhead signs reading Tattooing, Piercing, Branding, Scarification and others too far away to see from the entrance. Although a sterile hospital curtain hangs beside each station, they are all pulled back, even the ones that are occupied.

Your mistress turns and looks you in the eye as you hear an agonized scream from the branding area.

"Did you know that unclaimed submissives like Fuckholes here have to consent to any permanent procedures, but masters can do anything they like to owned slaves like you?"

You gulp.

"Mistress, my body is yours. You don't need my consent to do whatever you want with it, but whatever it is, you have it."

A dreamy smile breaks out all over her face and she unexpectedly leans in to kiss you with a delightful passion. You quite forget where you are until another hideous shriek makes you both jump.

"Well, as it happens, you don't need to worry about me having you branded or anything like that. It's flippin' expensive."

Without another word, she turns to lead you deeper into the suite, letting you wonder whether cost is the only reason you won't be leaving here with her initials seared into your flesh.

You pass an Asian woman in a white collar having the clichéd image of an enormous Chinese dragon tattooed across her shoulders, back and right thigh (which looks like it will take at least a week to complete), an older man with Sissy Sl on his bald pate, the tattooist working on the u, and a skinny blonde face down, howling as a star is stippled into the inside of her anus. An owned brunette in her forties is having her labia fastened together by a series of silver rings, you avert your eyes at the sight of a man having a flesh tunnel carved into his cheek and a strikingly ugly girl is being fitted with a ridiculously huge barbell through her septum.

There are slaves bearing recent brands and incisions on their thighs, backs, chests and in one case, a curly W on her genitals, the bottom curves burned into her labia, the middle top right over her clitoris. Two nurses are ensuring the wounds heal cleanly.

Further on, you see a young **** sobbing at the penotomy station, his master cupping his balls as he explains the guillotine blade will miss his manhood as long as he remains flaccid, but if he's hard when it descends, he'll lose a few inches. The staff member smiles while she finishes setting up the device.

A woman whimpers pitifully, her labia swollen like balloons by the saline solution draining into them through two small needles, whilst another moans in apparent bliss, her body suspended by heavy duty hooks skewered through the muscle of her buttocks and back.

Your mistress takes you past all these to another, presumably cheaper, service offered by the resort.