Holiday Slavery

H O L I D A Y

B O N D A G E

Chapter 13: A Private Contest.

When we got back to the ship in mid-afternoon, my Mistress and Master Paul decided it was time to organise their little private contest -- the game of poker to determine which would be a slave to the other for a few hours!

After some discussion, they managed to book a bondage room for three hours late that evening but agreed that the loser would be 'in slavery' until just before breakfast the next morning. Also, in order not to cut into the three hours with the actual poker game, they decided to 'play' it beforehand ... immediately, in fact!

We all four gathered in my Mistress' cabin, as it was a little larger than Master Paul's. Then the 'local rules' for the game had to be agreed ...

First there was the matter of exactly how many units of clothing each player would wear. After a little negotiation, they agreed: for Master Paul, briefs, two socks, two shoes, shirt and trousers; and for my Mistress, briefs, bra, suspender, two stockings, two shoes, skirt and blouse. This meant that she had two more units to lose than he did ... as they had originally agreed.

Master Paul suggested that they should each 'retire' to the bathroom with the other's slave to confirm what they were wearing, but my Mistress pointed out with a smile that any attempt at cheating would soon be revealed! But she did excuse herself for a few minutes, saying that she had to put on the stockings and suspender -- she didn't normally wear these on a tropical cruise!

In addition to their clothes, they each had eight 'chips', which they agreed would be equivalent to two units of clothing. After some discussion, it was agreed that the maximum first bet or raise should be one unit, and that all raises be limited at the rate of one unit per round of betting.

My Mistress now made a suggestion: "I think we shouldn't be allowed to exchange any chips or clothing during a hand; I mean, if I lose my skirt, I'll have to win it back before I can put it on, not just swap it for something of yours I may have won earlier." Master Paul readily agreed to this, and it was fairly obvious from his expression that he was looking forward to seeing more of my Mistress' body.

Finally, Master Paul raised the question of what to do with Helen and me during the game: "Shouldn't we tie them up or order them to stand behind their respective owner? I don't want your slave peeking over my shoulder and passing you signals about my hand."

"I really don't think that's necessary," said my Mistress. "We can trust you two, can't we? ... And anyway," she smiled at Master Paul, "could you be quite sure that your slave may not like the idea of seeing you as a slave?" This gave him something to think about, and he eventually agreed that we slaves were allowed to watch both hands, if we promised we wouldn't cheat.

At last the game got under way. For the first few hands, the players were clearly testing each other out and nothing very exciting happened. But, having watched my Mistress play before, I was certain she had a definite plan in mind; she bet conservatively, but I noticed that she seemed more prepared to lose an unit or two of clothing than any of the 'chips'!

At first the cards went against my Mistress, but then she slowly recouped her losses; and it was Master Paul who commented as she dealt at one point: "Looks like we're back where we started. I've still got all my clothes, plus these two shoes of yours, while you've got all my chips instead. You can't wear the chips, you know; if you're left with no clothes and only chips, will I win because you'll be naked with no clothes to bet?"

My Mistress thought for a moment, then smiled: "I guess so. But I don't intend to let that happen. Now, down to business ... three cards for you? ... OK .. I'll keep what I've got." I couldn't believe my ears, because her hand was worthless ... yet there seemed to be a subtle change in her manner that suggested complete confidence. She's going to try a bluff, I thought -- and wondered if Master Paul would pick it up.

I think he did, because he started with a maximum bid -- one of his own shoes; my Mistress took off a stocking (displaying a good deal of leg in the process) and put it on the table to match his bet, then added two chips to raise the stake. Master Paul pressed on, and two rounds of betting later he had bet his other shoe and one sock, while my Mistress had contributed her other stocking and her blouse.

"Back to me, is it?" said Master Paul. "I think you're bluffing, but with no chips I can't match your bet. So I'll just have to force you to fold ... up two-and-a-half!" And he put in his other sock and both my Mistress' shoes.

My Mistress looked carefully at her (worthless!) hand, then smiled at Master Paul: "Maybe I am bluffing ... maybe you are ... but I can do it better! This matches your bet" (she put in the required number of chips) "... and I'll raise -- one -- two -- three -- four!" As she spoke, she stood up and calmly took off her skirt, suspender, bra and briefs and laid them all on the table!

Master Paul's eyes grew wide at the sight of her gorgeous naked body, and for a long moment he seemed unable to speak. (I knew how he felt ... if his cock was reacting like mine!) But he regained control of himself, checked his own hand again and said, "Well, the game could be all over right now -- one way or the other!" He started to unbutton his shirt, then stopped. "Your raise was ... four? But I've only got three things left; I can't match your bet!"

"No, you can't, can you?" grinned my Mistress. "That was my advantage, remember? You should have folded earlier; now you'll really need some good hands to win the game!" And she retrieved her clothing -- all of it was on the table! -- and dressed quickly before gathering the cards to shuffle them for Master Paul to deal the next hand.

Now I saw why she had so carefully gathered all the 'chips': it allowed her to control the betting and, once she had most of the 'capital', it made her virtually unbeatable! I'd always known she was a very smart lady, and this only proved it again.

She had the first bet on the next hand, and she put down two chips without any apparent thought; but, when Master Paul tried to match her bet by putting in his shirt and taking out her two chips, she objected sharply: "You can't do that! We agreed that taking 'change' out of the pot wouldn't be allowed."

Master Paul complained that this wasn't fair, and that she could simply outbid him on every hand regardless of what she held. She smiled sweetly and replied: "Why do you think I took such care to get control of the chips? You should have realised that possibility earlier, shouldn't you?

"I'll tell you what, though," she continued after a moment's thought. "I'm far enough ahead that I can afford to be generous -- from now on I'll always give you a chance to match my bet if you want to ... BUT I might use the chips to force you to bet everything you have. OK?"

Realising that he'd been out-manoeuvred, Master Paul agreed with good grace and added, "Maybe I'll be very lucky and still win!" They re-dealt that hand and, after my Mistress opened the betting with one of Master Paul's shoes (she held quite a reasonable hand), he put in both his shirt and trousers, leaving him with only his tight briefs to protect his modesty.

My Mistress looked him up and down with interest. "Well now," she said as she looked at her hand, "am I going to raise your bet and make you take those off as well? ... No, I think I'll let you keep them for a little while longer. I'll just match your bet; what have you got?"

"Damn!" she exclaimed when her hand turned out to be better. "I could have finished the game right there ... if you'd been game to match my bet. Would you?"

But Master Paul, like any good poker player, wouldn't say one way or the other; he simply grinned and said, "Perhaps you lost your chance. This could be the start of my great come-back!"

For the next three hands it looked as if he was exactly right! The hands my Mistress got were terrible, but she still had to bet; and the minimum bet, since Master Paul had no chips, was one whole item of clothing!

But the game retained its excitement because, on the first two of these three hands, Master Paul had to strip off his briefs in order to stay in the bidding ... and my Mistress stared with unconcealed interest at his now complete nakedness.

"Looks as if you're enjoying this!" she commented as her eyes fastened on his cock; not unnaturally, it was partly hard from the excitement.

Master Paul grinned somewhat shamfacedly, then blushed when she continued: "I wonder if you'll be enjoying it later, when I get my hands on that!" But he recovered some of his composure with the winnings from the three hands.

Not that these winnings did much for his modesty (if indeed he had much of that, which I doubt!) -- my Mistress cunningly allowed him only to win back some of her clothes, specifically her shoes and stockings, which meant that he was still wearing only his briefs despite his newly-won 'riches' of five units! He saw what she was doing, with the result that his briefs could do little to conceal his growing hard-on.

I wanted my Mistress to win this game and was beginning to feel concerned at the way her luck was running. But on the next hand I began to wonder if she was actually trying to lose; with the best cards she'd held for four hands, she chose to bet only one chip ... and then to fold without even matching her opponent's bet! Or was she indulging in some very subtle tactics...?

Master Paul immediately opened the betting on the next hand with the chip he'd newly won. With an air of confidence, my Mistress calmly raised the stakes with one of his shoes and, on the next round, the other. Since Helen and I could see both hands, we knew her confidence was justified: although they both held very good cards, my Mistress' were better. But, of course, Master Paul didn't know this...

"I think you're bluffing again," he muttered as he pondered his next bet.

"Maybe I am," responded my Mistress serenely. "But remember; I can still force you to risk everything you've got to find out!"

This made Master Paul think even harder. Eventually he decided, and placed both my Mistress' stockings on the table, raising her bet by one-and-three-quarter units. With no hesitation at all, she countered with both of his socks, which raised the stakes by just that one chip or quarter-unit.

"Before you make your next bet," she said, "look at how delicately the game is balanced. I'm still well ahead, but that could change with what's on the table. I don't know if you're bluffing and you don't know if I'm bluffing, or maybe we're both bluffing, but I'm prepared to take a chance to stop the game dragging out too long.

"Why don't you risk everything on this next bet? I'll match your bet, and the game will either be over or you'll have a small advantage; unless I have a run of luck, you should be able to win from there.

"Alternatively ... if you're not quite game to take that risk, I suggest we change the rules again; forget the little chips and let's make the minimum bet one whole unit. But I worked hard to get all the chips to control the game, so I also want to be able to outbid you again.

"So what do you say?" she asked. "If you don't like either of these ideas, remember that I can just let you win this hand and still be just in control. Do you think the run of luck you've been having can go on much longer?"

Master Paul thought this over for quite some time before he replied. "OK," he said, "I'm not going to bet everything; at least it means I'm still alive, if your hand beats mine. But I will agree to your second idea." He put my Mistress' other shoe on the table and said, "Match that and let's see who's bluffing!"

My Mistress said nothing as she put just one chip down to equal his bet and waited. When she saw his cards, she smiled with mock sadness and said, "So you weren't bluffing, were you? But I hate to tell you this; neither was I!" And she slowly laid her cards on the table, showing that they just beat his.

She gathered up the stake, gave Master Paul a look of friendly contempt and said, "You know, you don't really deserve to win this game; you're not game to take a decent risk. Do you have what it takes to be a real Master?

"And now," she went on a few moments later, putting four chips on the table as her opening bet for the next hand, "are you game to match that? Or will you wait until you get an unbeatable hand?"

This time Master Paul didn't hesitate. He stripped off his briefs (the only 'coin' he had left!) and put them on the table. They showed their hands; his won, and he claimed them back with the chips.

"I wouldn't bother putting them on again," said my Mistress drily as she began to deal. "I intend to make you bet them as often as I can from now on. Besides, I'm quite enjoying the view!" she finished in a tone of exaggerated smugness. (She had put all her clothes back on, and she still had all his -- except the briefs, of course! -- and most of the chips to bet with!)

Master Paul grinned ruefully and, conceding his probable defeat, stayed naked for the rest of the game ... which didn't last very long! He won the next hand, but the following one went against him, leaving him with only his briefs again. And, when he had to open the betting with them on the following one, my Mistress showed no mercy; although her hand was worthless, she simply outbid him with (to add insult to defeat) his shirt and trousers!

There was a triumphant gleam in her eyes as she added the last item of his clothing to her pile of winnings. Then, holding his eyes with her gaze, she asked, "What was our agreement, then? The first one naked with nothing to bet, to be the other's slave until tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yes, Mistress Tina," admitted Master Paul cheerfully. "But shouldn't my slavery really start later, at the time we booked the bondage room?"

"We'll talk about that in a minute," she replied. "First I want to discuss what to do with slave Helen. Remember when I submitted to that evening of B and D on the island?

"I sent my slave away so that he wouldn't get any ideas above his station; I think we should do the same with yours tonight ... that's if she hasn't already got those ideas, what with being eaten by a Mistress today!!" She gave Helen a bright smile and received an equally brilliant one in return.

Master Paul agreed enthusiastically to this, and to my Mistress' suggestion that Helen should be put in the 'slave raffle' that was held each evening. Helen, of course, was given no choice in the matter -- not that she wanted any; on the contrary, she gave every sign of looking forward to it!

"Good!" said my Mistress. "Now perhaps you should write a note to the raffle organisers, and I'll just... Turn around, slave-girl!" She tied Helen's wrists securely behind her back, then took Master Paul's note and attached it to one of her nipples with a clamp. "Off you go then! If you're not sure where to go, just ask any officer!" she finished and gave Helen's bottom a resounding slap to send her on her way.

Helen obeyed, her face showing a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I knew, as we all did, that the office she was heading for was almost the length of the ship away ... and, of course, a slave walking alone with bound wrists was available to be fondled by any passing Master or Mistress!

My Mistress turned back to Master Paul. "Now," she said brightly, "as to your slavery starting later tonight: first I want to have a good look at you! I just may decide that you're not up to my standards as a slave. OK?

"Good! Right then, stand up straight ... legs a little apart ... chest out ... belly in ... and hands clasped behind your head. Yes, not bad..." she went on as she ran her hands all over his naked body.

Finally she spent some time fondling his cock and balls, bringing his organ to a rock-hard erection. "Yes," she murmured, "I think I can have quite a bit of fun with you tonight. It might be a new experience for you, but I promise it won't be entirely unpleasant!

"Now," she went on, "although your slavery won't be starting for a few hours, I want you to think of yourself as my slave between now and then. I'm not going to expect you to be naked and shackled in front of the other Masters and Mistresses, but listen to everything I say to slave Peter here and try to imagine yourself being in his place. It might help a lot to get you in the right mood! OK? ... Good!

"Finally, just in case you get cold feet between now and then, will you let me lock a harness on your eager little -- sorry, I mean big! -- member here? After all, I won you fair and square, and I mean to enjoy my winnings!" And she gave Master Paul a big smile when he agreed.

I watched in fascination as the harness she often used on me was applied to Master Paul's cock and balls. It consisted of a tight ring padlocked around the base, several smaller connected rings along its shaft and the smallest just behind its head; the final touch was a heavy chain around his waist, also padlocked to the cock-rings and holding his prick up against his belly. This wasn't too painful, I knew from experience, but the tight rings tended to keep one's cock hard and somewhat uncomfortable.

"There!" she said with a satisfied smile. "That should ensure that you'll keep your part of the bargain and remind you that for a while you're a slave, not a Master. You can get dressed now, and then we can go have a drink before dinner.

"When the time comes, l'll expect you to be waiting for me in the bondage room in an appropriate pose. Your cue will be when I tell slave Peter to go and get himself ready; you'll offer to go with him and see that he obeys! One last thing," she finished, "you don't need to call me 'Mistress' in public, but I do expect you to treat me with as much respect as possible. OK?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Master Paul with a subtle combination of humility and sarcasm -- just the touch that would make others think they were simply joking with each other.

They kept up this delicate balance throughout drinks and dinner. Master Paul listened carefully to my Mistress' every word, especially when she was giving me orders or talking to me in the way a Mistress talks to a slave.

And she gave him plenty to listen to and think about! Without making it obvious to others around us, she kept up a pretty constant stream of hints for him: she fondled me a great deal, commenting in detail about what sort of body she liked her slave to have; she gave me orders a little more sharply than usual, and several times made very specific threats about punishments I might suffer; most of all, she teased me incessantly about what she planned to do to me during the bondage room booking she had for later in the evening!

Knowing that this was intended for Master Paul, I found it all very exciting. I'm quite sure it had a similar effect on him, and I even began to feel a little sorry for him; his cock must have been quite uncomfortable in its harness!

After dinner we went to watch the 'Slave Raffle' being drawn. This was a daily event, held mainly for the 'unattached' slaves and Masters and Mistresses, those people who had joined the cruise without having the sort of permanent arrangement that I had with my Mistress. But any 'owner' was also welcome to join in by 'contributing' a slave and/or buying a ticket; in fact, a request by any slave to be in the raffle was usually agreed to! And there were always a few 'spare' slaves whose owners didn't 'require their services' that night ... like Helen!

She stood proud and unashamed in the row of naked slaves waiting to learn who would be their Masters or Mistresses for the night. Like the others, her wrists were fastened behind her back and her shapely body was totally on view. (I thought she was easily the most gorgeous of the slave-girls there, but maybe I was biased!) They all wore collars with long leashes; the leashes led into one side of a large box and out of the other side to handles marked in different colours (these denoted the sex of the slave attached to the other end).

The officer in charge stood by the box and invited the ticket holders, one at a time, to come forward and choose a handle. Towards the end, a few declined because the colour of the remaining handles was not to their taste; and the officer assured them that they would be given a choice of the crew slaves who were free. Finally all handles were taken and the officer paused dramatically before lifting the lid from the box.

Inside was a great tangle of leashes! "If you pull on your leash gently," the officer informed the ticket holders, "you'll find that they will unravel quite easily. Have a pleasant evening with your temporary slaves!"

I wondered how it would feel to be one of the slaves, watching the leashes untangling and wondering which Master or Mistress held the other end of yours! (I knew the slaves had no idea, because the leashes had been prepared before the slaves themselves were attached to them; but the 'owners' who had contributed their slaves did know which handle led to theirs ... so that they wouldn't choose their own slave, which would rather defeat the aim!) My Mistress and Master Paul watched with equal interest, if only to know who would have Helen tonight!

Eventually the tangle resolved itself, and each leash led straight (although criss-crossing the others) from an owner to a slave. From our position to one side, we still couldn't tell where Helen's leash led; then the officer asked each owner in turn to tug sharply on his or her leash, and each slave thus identified was given the choice of submitting or not. (This ensured that slaves wouldn't have to submit to treatment they knew they wouldn't enjoy, but they had one choice only -- if they refused, they would spend the night in solitary and tight bondage!)

It turned out that Helen's leash led to one of the 'unattached' Masters -- to be precise, to two of them, a pair of handsome young men who stared at their 'prize' with unconcealed pleasure as they waited for her reaction. It came with no hesitation; Helen smiled brilliantly and nodded ... these two Masters had quite a reputation on the slaves' grapevine for highly inventive and exciting bondage games!

The raffled slaves went their separate ways with their owners for the night, and my Mistress took Master Paul and me to take in some of the entertainment on offer. In fact, we watched the videotapes of the boat race that morning; it was odd, and quite exciting, to see my own naked body bound so tightly to the mast and my cock protruding backwards and swinging from side to side as my Mistress used it to control the rudder. But even more exciting for me was the sight of the two boats' figureheads; the voluptuous redhead leaning forward from the prow of my boat was probably the more impressive, but I still preferred Helen's shapely blond nakedness (my bias again?).

As a slave, I had no way of being sure how the time was passing, and my Mistress had made Master Paul give her his watch too. But it came as no great surprise to me (or to him, I suspect) when she suddenly said to me, "Slave, the bondage room I booked should be free soon; go and get ready in the usual way!"

Master Paul responded instantly, even before I could reply: "Would you like me to go with him, to see he's not kidnapped on the way? And perhaps to see that he behaves himself?"

My Mistress feigned an expression of pleased surprise. "Yes, why not?" she said. "And, since you let your slave Helen get herself raffled off tonight, why don't you join us for a while? You might have some fresh ideas for me to try out on male slaves." She kept a perfectly straight face and sounded as if she meant every word, but the irony in her words was quite clear to both Master Paul and me.

"I'll be along in about ten minutes," she finished.

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