The Armoire

The Armoire Ch. 07 - Last Master Standing

- Sam Darquesied

- Expertly edited by FQKF

“Happy, belated birthday Ally,” yelled Kendal as Alyssa approached. She and Tommy had finished unloading the horse feed from the pickup truck and were just closing up the barn.

A little nervously Alyssa said, “Thanks Kenny…uh…Tommy, can we go for a walk to the meadow? There’s something I’d like to talk about.”

“Sure,” he said, “just give me a minute to clean up and get a drink. You want anything?”

Alyssa answered, “How about you get cleaned up and I’ll get the drinks. Do you want a drink-drink or a pop?”

“That depends on what you want to talk about,” said Tommy, with a sarcastic grin.

Grinning back she said, “I’ll get you a drink-drink…I’ll meet you in the back.”

He chuckled and went to get cleaned up while a concerned Kendall asked, “Is everything okay, Ally?”

“Oh yeah,” she replied, “It’s just an idea I had but I’ve got to tell him first.”

With that Alyssa said goodbye to Kendall and went in the house to make Tommy’s rye and ginger and get him a cigar, then went out the back and waited. The woods were just off the back yard and Tommy had carved a winding path through the trees which ended in a lovely little clearing. If they walked quietly they could often sneak up on grazing deer and, occasionally, wild turkeys.

When Tommy came out Alyssa handed him his drink then lit the cigar. As always, she took a long drag, kissed him, and transferred the smoke from her mouth to his. As they entered the woods, Tommy asked, “So, what is it? Nothing too bad I hope.”

“No, no,” she said, as they continued down the meandering path, “it’s something I did…I should have asked you first…I didn’t really think anything would come of it.”

They came to the meadow and, as they sat on a small, cedar bench that Tommy had made, he turned to her and said, “Spit it out, Babe. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“It’s nothing like that, Tommy…okay, have you ever seen the website called ‘slaves-r-sluts.net’?”

“You’re kidding,” he said, “There’s actually a website called ‘slaves are sluts’?”

Alyssa continued, “Yes. It’s pretty extreme; catering to masters who are particularly harsh on their respective slaves…Anyway, they, and a few other extreme BD sites, sponsor this kind of ‘Survivor’ type game called ‘Last Master Standing’. It’s the same idea, you know, being in the wild and all that but, with a BDSM twist. And…I signed us up.”

An incredulous Tommy said, “What!? You signed us up for…what exactly?”

“You said once, that you were thought it would be ‘cool’ to be on the TV show and live in the wild of some exotic country. You thought if we practiced a bit we’d do okay.”

Still in a state of disbelief, he said, “Yeah, but that was just…this is weird! What kind of game are you talking about?”

“It’s something like the TV show,” she said, “except it’s couples against couples; masters and slaves. They have to fend for themselves in some tropical locale and there are ‘tournaments’ that involve some sort of BDSM.”

Alyssa could see that Tommy was still pretty shaken but he wasn’t getting angry. He was however; still very skeptical as he said, “‘Some sort of BDSM’, eh? It sounds like it might be stuff like we see on some of those extreme sites—stuff you know I would never do.”

She replied, “According to the entry form, the tournament stuff is relatively tame in order to comply with European rules for commercial broadcasting on the Internet. Apparently, thousands of couples apply. I was real careful, Tommy. I used my fake e-mail address and the DVD didn’t show our faces.”

“WHAT!? You sent a DVD…of us?” he protested.

Tommy was really beginning to get upset so Alyssa moved closer and took his hand, “Please don’t be angry, Tommy. I was very careful. The DVD was an old one…the one when Wendy came and you flogged me over the big sawhorse. You were wearing the hood and you can’t see my face at all. I just sent that part, none of the rest.”

Forcing himself to calm down a bit, he said, “Well, I guess there’s no real harm done…I mean the chances of us getting selec--”

Alyssa interrupted, “We made the final twenty four…We’re scheduled for an interview in three weeks.”

His face went ashen, as he muttered, “Jesus!” then he looked away.

Tommy didn’t let go of her hand but she was sure he was struggling not to turn and give her hell. She felt that she had really ticked him off and wished that she hadn’t been so stupid. Alyssa thought she should have just torn up the invitation for the interview and never said a word. All she could do was say, “Tommy, I’m so sorry. We don’t have to go. I shouldn’t have done it without asking you first. Please, Tommy, I’m really sorry.”

After an awfully long period of silence, he turned back to her and asked, “Is this the first one they’ve done?”

“No,” she answered, “There have been two others…The last one was in Borneo.”

Much calmer now, Tommy said, “Borneo, really? Do you know where this one’s going to be?”

“No, sorry, I have no idea,” Alyssa replied, a bit puzzled that he was asking.

A few more silent moments passed then he said, “Okay, I tell you what…we’ll go to the interview and we’ll decide then, okay?”

Alyssa was stunned that he suddenly agreed and said, “Uh…are you sure, Tommy?”

“Yeah,” he said, “You must be eager to try this and it would be interesting to go to some tropical country but, here’s the deal; if I don’t like it and say no then that’s it; no arguments.”

“Oh yes, Tommy, absolutely. Whatever you decide…Tommy…? I’m really sorry that I upset you.”

“You are, are you?” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “And what should we do about that?”

Was he hinting that he was going to punish her for a transgression? Maybe it was just an excuse for something that he had already set up. Either way, it was okay with her, so she went into slave mode, looked down at her lap and said, “I should be punished for misbehaving, Tommy…severely punished.”

“I agree,” he said abruptly, “so…here’s how it’s going to be. We’ll go back to the house and I want you to get on your laptop and look up the word ‘bastinado.’ I want you to really research it so you know exactly what it means then come to the studio and let me know if you’re okay with it and we’ll go from there.”

“Yes, Tommy,” she said, desperately trying to hide her excitement.

They returned along the path in silence and Tommy went to the studio as Alyssa went to the house to do what he had told her. She Googled “bastinado” and her excitement changed to a cold chill as she read the first description she ran across:

“bas•ti•na.do [bas-tuh-nah-doh]

A mode of punishment consisting of blows with a stick or cudgel on the soles of the feet.”

The reference went on to say that “the suffering was not in the pain of each blow, not too severe, but in the mounting pain and anguish caused by the duration of the punishment…A person could die or go crazy under such a torture.”

She began to cry a little realizing that, for the first time ever, Tommy may be really mad at her and was going to punish her for real. He knew she’d say that she was “okay” with it. She had no choice…she was, and always will be, his and he could do whatever he wanted with her. He also knew that she had very sensitive feet; several times, over the past years, he had brought her to orgasm by simply (and wonderfully) rubbing them…twice, without any direct clit stimulation!

As Alyssa walked toward the studio she thought that, if her impulsiveness had caused him such distress, then she wanted him to chastise her as he saw fit, but…her feet! She started to cry again, imagining how painful it was going to be and how she would be reminded of her insubordination for the next couple of days when she tried to walk. She paused at the door to compose herself and wipe her tears away then she entered the studio.

Tommy was near the back by the “E” frame…the one that resembled a capital E pushed over on its right side. Alyssa stopped in front of him, kicked off her sandals, put her hands behind her back, spread her feet, and looked at the floor.

“Any problems?” he asked flatly.

Meekly, she answered, “No, Tommy.”

“Then remove your clothes please, and stand against the half post.”

Unceremoniously, Alyssa stripped off her Tee shirt, shorts, and panties, and then she stood with her back against the short post extending down from the crossmember. Tommy moved in and fastened heavy leather wrist cuffs, lifted her arms straight up over her head until she was on tiptoe, and secured the cuffs in the metal ring at the top. He then wound several loops of rope around her waist and the post, cinching it up very tightly. There was a ledge on the back of the post that caught the rope so it could support some of her weight when her legs were lifted.

Tommy then had Alyssa ease herself into the waist rope, lift her feet, and spread her legs. She hung there, struggling to keep her legs apart as he did a Sakuranbo crotch tie with two ropes crisscrossing, relatively loose, over her pussy. Tommy then told her to bring her legs back together which tightened the crotch tie considerably and moved the crisscross up, just touching her clit. It immediately made her moist between the legs.

In an effort to force thoughts of what was to come, out of her head, she had been concentrating on Tommy’s work at binding her which was always very arousing but, as he positioned the T bar in front of her, she was reminded of the imminent torture and, again, began to cry.

Tommy, seemingly oblivious to her weeping, adjusted the bar to about three feet high then bent down, grabbed her feet and lifted her legs straight out, resting her ankles on the top of the ‘T’. Then he used rope to bind her feet to the crosspiece, wrapping the remainder around her insteps. Two bondage straps were tightly applied to her legs; one above the knees; and one below. He then took some twine, wrapped it around her big toes, and affixed the other end to the strap at her knees. Lastly, he moved the T bar back until her legs were extended perfectly straight.

She was stretched into the shape of an L, unable to move anything but her head. Alyssa’s feet were completely immobilized and bent back like they were begging for the forthcoming agony. Other than telling her to spread her legs, Tommy hadn’t said a word the entire time. To Alyssa, it felt like…he must be terribly angry with her!

Once more, she wept, as Tommy held the ball gag in front of her and said, “Do you want to say anything before we start?”

With tears streaming down her face, Alyssa said, “I love you Tommy, and I am so sorry,” then she opened her mouth wide to accept the ball.

He put the gag in place, kissed her on the forehead, and moved away. The kiss reassured Alyssa a little…maybe he didn’t despise her. She stopped crying but, when he moved to the T bar, holding the rattan cane, her eyes welled up again. Then he said, “I want you to close your eyes now and keep them closed ‘til we’re done.”

She did as he said, then began blubbering like baby when he said, “Okay…brace yourself!”

Alyssa screamed like a banshee at the first touch then; “OHGAWDNO…PLEASE…STOP…STOP…STOP!”

She gasped hard as Tommy rotated the metal pinwheel lightly around the soles of her feet! It was the worst kind of tickling torment and she couldn’t move her feet away from it even a little bit! He rolled the pinwheel down to her heels then back up and over the balls of her feet, then under her toes. Alyssa was caught so off guard by this that she was still crying but also convulsing in blood-vessel-bursting laughter. The rolling ceased for a moment and, as she gasped in some air, she wondered if this was just a warm up for the cane.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHA…” He began rolling the wheel under her legs, up and down her calves, then under her upper legs to her bum. She was pulling hard at her restraints with little result but it was causing the Sakuranbo to roughly rub her clit and, just as Tommy stopped the pinwheel again…she orgasmed into those crisscrossed ropes.

Alyssa began to open her eyes, thinking it might be over, but snapped them closed again when she felt the tip of the feather touch underneath her. He was twirling the end just at the top of her tightly closed legs and she couldn’t help but jerk against the ropes, causing the Sakuranbo to chafe against her sensitive clitoris, which made her convulse even more. Tommy kept it up for a minute or so until… she climaxed again! “Those freaking crotch ropes are going to be the end of me!” she thought.

Even with her eyes closed the room was spinning. Alyssa was so light headed that she was afraid she would get sick but Tommy stopped and she was able to hoarsely gasp in a couple of lung fulls before he began anew. He now swirled the feather tip on her thighs, up from her knees to her crotch then over her pubes and tummy. Again Tommy gave Alyssa a moment to catch her breath then glided the feather up to her breasts, lightly flicking the tips on her nipples. That always drove Alyssa nuts and her laughing became a high pitched, “HEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE…” while she violently wrenched against the ropes. Tommy kept up the nipple tickling as she came for a third time but, as Alyssa felt her abdomen convulse like it was going to rupture…she passed out.

It was a minute or so before she awoke to Tommy, gently daubing her face with a cool, wet cloth. The gag was already gone and her breathing was much better. Then Tommy said, “Are you okay, Babe?”

“Yeah,” she said, “but, geez Tommy…three times!”

“Well! Let that be a lesson to you, young lady!” he said, in mock sternness, and they both started to laugh.

“The little devil trickster had been at it again!” thought Alyssa, and she shook her head wondering when she was going to wise up to these things. Obviously he hadn’t been particularly angry; probably just concerned that she might have given out too much information. He just used it as an excuse to set Alyssa up and play with her and her “punishment” was three ripper orgasms.

While Tommy undid her bindings Alyssa said, “I should have talked to you about it first, Tommy. It was just a lark. I honestly didn’t think that anything would come of it.”

When Alyssa’s legs were free he put his arm around her and lifted to unhook her wrists from the frame and said, “Don’t worry about it. At first I was worried that they might find out who we are but I’m sure you were careful. And, Alyssa Eaglefeather, you should know by now that it would take a lot more than that to make me angry with you.”

As they walked towards the shower room Alyssa asked, “Just what would it take?”

Tommy adjusted the taps until the temperature was just right and, as they stepped into the soft, warm water, he said, “Well…are you a serial killer or child molester?”

They began to lather each other up and Alyssa answered, “No!”

“Okay, how about a nun. Are you a nun?” said Tommy as he ran his soapy hands all over her.

He turned and she was rubbing lather over his back and bum when she giggled and said, “No, no!”

Tommy turned back, wrapped his arms around Alyssa and, just before he kissed her, he said, “Then I think you’re okay.”

* * *

Sylvia phoned from Kendall’s just as they walked in the front door. She invited them over there for supper, which was just as well since Alyssa was exhausted from her adventure with the pinwheel. They walked over and enjoyed a nice, simple meatloaf dinner after which, all of them retired to Kendall’s porch with after dinner drinks. After some idle banter, including some talk of “Last Master Standing,” Tommy said, “I guess we’d better start practicing soon. I will not go to that game unless I know how to make fire!”

“I have a suggestion,” said Alyssa, “We could go and visit my folks.”

Tommy looked at her for a moment then said, “It’s not a bad idea Al, except that I don’t think Gun would give me the time of day.”

Alyssa’s parents lived on an Ojibwe community in British Columbia and she visited them often. Tommy had accompanied her a few times over the years but he could never get comfortable with her father. His name, in English writing, was Maengun but everybody called him Gun for short. The way of the Anishinaabe people is not judgmental but Alyssa had never been able to convince Tommy that her folks actually did respect him. The fact that he made her happy was good enough for them. Alyssa was never sure whether Tommy was intimidated by the name “Gun” or the fact that her father’s name translates to “wolf.”

“That’s not true Tommy,” she protested, “Ni Osseiman…my father…would be happy to help you if you asked him.”

“Well, maybe under some circumstances,” he said, “but how am I going to ask him to help me learn stuff for a bondage and discipline game?”

Alyssa answered, “It’s probably better if I call them.”

“Yeah, probably,” he said, “but I still don’t see how you’re going to…oh wait…Oh! Please don’t tell me that they know about what we do!”

“Uh…does anybody need another drink?” she replied.

* * *

During the flight to BC Alyssa explained to Tommy, for the umpteenth time, that she was very close to her parents and that she told “Ni Mama” everything…everything! In turn, her mother told her father everything. They had a simple philosophy, as far as Alyssa was concerned; if it makes her happy, then it’s good. Of course, Tommy simply thinks that Maengun sees him as the man who routinely ties his daughter up and whips her.

As Tommy turned the rental car onto the reserve road Alyssa, once again, tried to reassure him, “Don’t worry, Tommy. They do like you and my dad has already said he’d be happy to help you. Just…be straight with him, even if he asks about the bondage stuff…okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he answered, “We’re going to have a fair bit of time together so I guess it’s going to come up, but I would be just as happy if he just chose to ignore it.”

Tommy sighed in exasperation as Alyssa said, “Well…good luck with that.”

There were about twenty people milling around the house as they pulled up. Maengun was a chief so it wasn’t uncommon to have a few people at his house at any given time but twenty or so usually meant something was going on.

Tommy said, “Wow! Are they all here for you?”

“I doubt it,” answered Alyssa, “I hope nothing is wrong.”

Alyssa’s mother, Mino, came happily running over and greeted her with a tight, warm hug, “Boozhoo Nooni! We have such good news! Jamie is expecting!”

Maengun walked up to Tommy and said, “Boozhoo…welcome, Bashanzhe. You are looking well.”

Cringing a bit at the greeting, Tommy replied, “Thanks Gun. It’s good to see you.”

After greeting several other people, Tommy and Alyssa talked with Jamie and her husband. Jamie Gwayakwaa was Alyssa’s friend since childhood and she and her husband Curtis had been trying to have a child for years so the mood was jubilant throughout the entire community.

Tommy offered his congratulations and Jamie said, “Thanks, Bashanzhe. It’s been a long time coming!”

Again Tommy flinched at the name as Curtis joked, “Yeah! It was hard work but it had to be done!”

Everyone chuckled and continued to greet and welcome. The atmosphere was happy and light and an impromptu party was beginning to take shape as more people drifted over, bearing food, drink, tables, and chairs. Everyone greeting Tommy called him Bashanzhe or just Bash, both of which made Tommy squirm.

About two years before, Mino, short for Minogimiwan, and Maengun honoured Tommy by having a shaman give him an Ojibwe name. It was a great honour, especially for an outsider, but the medicine man, who had never met Tommy, gave him the name “Bashanzhe`igewin Inini” which loosely translated means “whipping man” or “man of the whip.” No one has ever questioned the name but it made Tommy very self conscious.

Aside from the name, and Maengun’s perpetual stone face, Tommy actually liked coming to the community. He had always been fascinated by native culture and the Anishinaabe were the most unassuming and friendly people he had ever met.

Alyssa and Jamie spent most of the evening with a few other women, yakking like a bunch of high schoolers. At one point Alyssa joked, “With a name like ‘Gwayakwaa’, it’s about time you got it right!”

The name “Gwayakwaa,” translated loosely, means “getting it right” or “the corrector.”

Not to be outdone, Jamie countered with, “Oh yeah, well you should talk, ‘Tiny Fart!’”

Everyone there called Alyssa “Noodi”, short for her Ojibwe name, “Noodinens” which translates to “Little Wind”.

Tommy sat with several men, including Maengun, throughout most of the evening but, as night came, they ended up alone at the table and Tommy said, “Thanks again, Gun, for offering to help. I’m looking forward to the lessons.”

“Not a problem,” replied Maengun, “Mino explained the game to me and I am sure that some survival skills will come in handy but, I must admit, I am concerned about the ‘tournaments’. It would seem that there is a good chance of Noodi being hurt.”

Tommy fervently said, “Oh no. If anything gets too intense we are simply going to pull out of the game and leave. We’re doing this more for the adventure, not the BD stuff. I wouldn’t hurt her Gun…ever.”

“I understand Bashanzhe, and it is clear that you care for my daughter a great deal but it is sometimes difficult to reconcile the…lifestyle.”

Tommy sighed, sensing that there were going to be some hard questions coming, but he had promised Alyssa that he would answer whatever queries Maengun might have so, he said, “I’m sure it is Gun…I don’t even understand it all the time but…I know that it makes Alyssa happy and that’s enough for me.”

Maengun looked hard into Tommy’s eyes and said, “Why would you pretend to be very angry with her?”

Taking a deep breath, Tommy explained, “We have been together for a long time now and it is harder and harder to create scenarios where Ally…Noodi…is really frightened and—I know it is hard to understand but—genuine fear adds a great deal to her excitement. When she told me about the game I saw a rare opportunity to have her really think there was something to be afraid of but, if you know that then you know that I never actually did what she was dreading.”

“Yes,” said Maengun, “I understand that you tickled her instead.”

“Uh…yes…guilty pleasure, I’m afraid,” replied Tommy, exasperated at the fact that Alyssa wasn’t kidding when she said that she told her mother everything.

It was getting late and most people had left for their homes. Maengun rose from the table and said, “I would like to know more, but that is for a later time. Tonight I would like you to sleep in the tipi that I have set up in the back. You will need to accustom yourself to sleeping on a mat rather than a comfortable mattress. And, while you are here, I would ask that you do not go to my daughter.”

Tommy said, “Oh…okay, I understand,” and, after saying goodnight to Mino and Alyssa, he went around back to the tipi.

He knew his back was going to be sore in the morning from sleeping on the mat but Tommy smiled at the idea of spending the night in a real, Ojibwe tipi. He removed his clothing; all but his jockeys, and lay on the mat. There were a couple of blankets and, although it took a while to get warm, he dozed off after a half hour or so.

Everyone but Maengun went to bed and he puttered around for a couple of hours then went out back to sit in his favourite wooden chair. He looked over at the tipi, about fifty feet away and chuckled as he heard Tommy’s light snoring. He smiled as he looked up at the star laden night sky. He smiled as he watched the raccoon sniff around the tent and…he shook his head and smiled as he watched Alyssa, wearing only a short white, terry housecoat, sneak out the back door and enter the tipi.

Inside the tent, Alyssa slid off her housecoat then slipped under the blankets, spooning herself to Tommy’s back. She wiggled herself in as close as she could get then began to drift off to sleep but he suddenly whispered, “Oh…I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Gun said we shouldn’t be together.”

“What did he say exactly?” asked Alyssa.

“He said, while I was here, he didn’t want me to go to you,” replied Tommy.

“Well, you didn’t come to me, I came to you.”

Tommy turned, rolled Alyssa onto her back, and whispered, “That’s absolutely true!”

Then he moved on top of her and slowly slid his already eager shaft into her equally keen vagina, and then they just moved tenderly against each other. Tommy lightly kissed her eyelids, cheeks, forehead, and lips as they continued to silently relish in each others touch. Whatever worries they may have had were quietly washed away as they climaxed together in a soft, warm, mutual orgasm.

Neither one wanted to break the embrace but finally Tommy said, “I guess you should go back in the house.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she whispered, “Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve kicked me out of bed?”

Tommy chuckled, whispering, “Hey, I said I was cute, not smart!”

Alyssa kissed him then stood, donned her housecoat, and left the tipi. Out of the corner of her eye she spied the dark figure sitting in the wooden chair but pretended not to notice and just ran back to the house.

* * *

Tommy awoke early, partly due to the noisy birds singing in the trees, and partly from a very stiff back. He dressed and poked his head out the tipi just in time to see Mino coming down the front steps to wake him. Minogimiwan was a lovely woman in her mid sixties who was rarely seen without a smile. Her name meant “good rain” which seemed to fit her so well and it was easy to see from where Alyssa got her looks and understanding temperament.

“Ah, good, you are awake already,” she said, “Come and have some breakfast Bashanzhe. Maengun is eager to begin your lessons.”

Tommy followed her into then house then, after a quick detour to the washroom, he joined Mino and Gun at the breakfast table. Alyssa was still sound asleep.

“Good day Bashanzhe. Did you sleep well enough?” asked Maengun.

Tommy replied, “Good morning Gun. Uh…I slept okay I guess. My back is a little stiff. Just not used to sleeping on the ground, you know. But I’ll be fine after some of Mino’s fine fry bread and her killer coffee.”

They chuckled at his reference to Mino’s penchant for making very strong coffee. If you need to wake up or get sober, her brew was just the thing.

Maengun then said, “I have always had my best nights sleep in the tipi, so long as nothing disturbs me in the middle of the night. Was that your experience Bashanzhe?”

Tommy hesitated for a moment, and then answered, “Uh…yeah, I suppose. Well, to be honest, last night Alyssa…”

Maengun interrupted, “Perhaps you will be able to answer better after another night or two. After another coffee I thought we could begin with the ways of the bow drill, if you like.”

“Excellent, Gun,” said Tommy, “I’ve been especially eager to make fire without a Ronson.”

A few minutes later, Tommy and Maengun went to the back and began to work with the bow drill. Alyssa arose an hour or so later and spent much of her morning watching the two men through the kitchen window. Minogimiwan had told Alyssa that Maengun would prefer that she stay away from Tommy for the day and let them work. She watched as Tommy learned how to make the bow drill components from nearby fallen white cedar branches. He seemed to readily pick up on how to make the device but, it was a different story when it came to actually making a coal to start a fire.

They worked until mid morning on making the spindle, board, bow, and hand hold, and then Maengun demonstrated how to create the coal, successfully igniting a tinder bundle in less than fifteen minutes. Next, Tommy tried but his efforts did not yield anything other than some wisps of smoke. Clearly frustrated but determined, Tommy worked for two fruitless hours until Maengun finally told him to take a break and have lunch.

Allysa and Mino brought out some burgers and wild rice and a couple of beers. Honouring her father’s wishes, she didn’t speak to Tommy much but she did manage a quick kiss to his cheek and a whisper, “It’ll happen, Tommy. Just keep trying.”

After their meal, Maengun once again demonstrated the bow drill technique, this time producing a coal in about twelve minutes. Tommy was then left to try on his own for the rest of the afternoon.

Alyssa helped her mother in the kitchen, periodically looking out the window to see Tommy growing increasingly discouraged. It was painful for her to watch as he would try try for twenty to thirty minutes straight, then walk away in disgust. She was proud of him though, as he always went back and tried again and again.

Maengun came in around three and he, Alyssa, and Mino sat down for a cup of tea. They sat chatting for a few minutes when they heard a loud shout from out back…

“I AM THE KING OF FIRE!”

They all arose and went to the back door to see Tommy doing a touchdown dance around the flaming tinder bundle and pumping his fists in the air. When he saw them in the doorway he stood with his hands on his hips, chest out like superman and in a terrible Tom Hanks imitation shouted, “I HAVE MADE FIRE!”

Mino tapped Allysa on the shoulder and said, “I think your man needs a hug.”

With that she ran out, excitedly yelling, “YOU HAVE MADE FIRE!” and jumped into his arms. Both fell to the ground laughing and kissing and Alyssa took the opportunity to whisper, “If I can sneak out tonight, you will get your reward.”

Just then Maengun walked over to them and said, “Well done Bashanzhe but…can you do it again?”

Still on the ground with Alyssa on top of him, Tommy muttered, “Boy, talk about a mood killer!”

After a quick kiss, Alyssa got up and returned to the house while Tommy tried once again to make a coal with the bow drill. She watched him through the window, feverishly working the bow and, after almost half an hour, he again achieved coal and lit another tinder bundle. Alyssa beamed with pride as she saw her father pat Tommy on the back and smiled as the two men began to laugh at some unheard good natured jibe.

Maengun spent the rest of the afternoon showing Tommy some other methods of creating flame, including an intriguing method using a polished pop can and even one using plastic wrap and water. As dusk approached the two men headed back to the house for dinner but Tommy suddenly stopped and said, “Oh…wow! I am such a moron!”

Maengun said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. The bow drill can be difficult…”

“No, not that,” said Tommy, “I have been so wrapped up in my own little world that it never occurred to me…Alyssa knows how to do all this stuff, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, of course,” said Maengun.

Tommy asked, “How long does it take her to get a coal?”

“Not sure of the actual time, but she’s faster than me.”

Tommy just shook his head and muttered, “Geez, I am such a putz.”

Dinner was almost ready when they got back and, after Tommy had cleaned himself up, Alyssa said to Maengun, “Can I borrow Tommy for a few minutes, Ni Osseiman? I want to show him something in the tipi.”

Mino smiled at Maengun who just sighed and said, “Okay, that’s fine. But don’t be too long, dinner’s almost ready.”

Alyssa immediately took Tommy’s hand and led him out the door to the tipi. Once inside she closed the flap, turned and wrapped her arms around him.

Tommy asked, “What did you want to show me?”

Reaching down and massaging his crotch, she said, “A girl who loves you hopelessly; and a girl that wants to show you that sometimes a ‘quickie’ isn’t all bad.”

With that, she knelt and began to undo Tommy’s jeans. He reached down to her and said, “Oh, I haven’t showered or anything, Al.”

As she pulled the jeans and jockeys down she looked up at him sweetly. “That’s okay Tommy, I’ll clean it for you.”

He realized there was no stopping her and he wasn’t stupid enough to argue the point too much. It had taken a long time for Tommy to finally understand that she actually loved doing this for him; so he just closed his eyes and savoured the amazing sensation of her mouth and tongue fondling his submissive cock. Even the way she breathed was arousing as she held his hips firmly and caressed his penis like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. When he climaxed she reached behind him and pulled his hips into her, forcing him deep inside her mouth. All the while she was sucking like she was trying to draw saliva down from his mouth and he was hard pressed not to make noises that would alert the entire village.

“Jesus! I’ll have to make fire more often,” panted a very spent Tommy.

“Oh, that wasn’t your reward,” whispered Alyssa, “That was for me. Your reward comes later.”

As she pulled his pants back up and fastened the button, Tommy said, “What are we going to tell your mom if she asked what it was you showed me?”

Alyssa stood and said, “We could just tell her the truth.”

An incredulous Tommy said, “Oh, right…probably the last words I’ll ever say!”

She looked around… “Were the blankets warm enough last night?”

“Oh yeah; too warm really. I ended up kicking one of them off.”

Alyssa knelt on the mat and grabbed one of the blankets. “Okay then. What I wanted to show you was how to take one of the blankets and fold it in half, long ways, and then roll up the top couple of feet. You sleep on top of that one so you have a warmer bed and a bit of a pillow.”

“Damn!” said Tommy, “You’d think I could have thought of that myself. There must be something in the air here that has turned my brain to tapioca. I only realized a little while ago that you can do all the stuff that I’ve come here to learn. I apologize for that, by the way.”

“We’re a team,” she said as she took his hand, “and it can’t hurt us if we both know how to survive in the wild.”

Alyssa’s heart sped up as Tommy moved in for one of his signature long, deep, kisses but, just as their lips touched, the insistent voice of Minogimiwan destroyed the moment. They both shrugged, smiled at each other and obediently returned to the house for dinner.

* * *

The next three days were intense for Tommy as Maengun patiently taught him several tricks for survival in the wild. He learned how to make bow and arrow, a lean-to shelter, a ground mat, and several other secrets of living in the bush. Tommy was pretty good at some; like the bow and arrow, and not so good at others; like the ground mat, but Maengun knew that Alyssa would be able to take up the slack.

On the evening before their last day, they were sitting at the table enjoying a fried fish dinner. During the meal, watching Alyssa talking to Mino, Tommy marveled how, even in an old, oversized Tee shirt and jeans older that he, she still looked bloody delectable.

As they were finishing up, Alyssa said, “So, Ni Osseiman, what will you be teaching my Tommy tomorrow?”

“I believe Bashanzhe has learned all he can learn for now,” said Maengun, “so there will be no lessons tomorrow. Instead I thought we might spend some time in the sweat lodge.”

Tommy said, “The sweat lodge…really? Uh…thanks Gun. That’s something I didn’t expect.”

Maengun said, “We won’t do the whole ceremony; we will just spend some time with the Grandfathers.”

“I don’t really know what to do or even what the sweat lodge is all about but, I’m honoured Gun,” Tommy said.

Maengun explained, “The sweat is a purification of mind and spirit. Some people have visions but it is the cleansing that is important. It is a rebirth; a preparation for things to come.”

“As always,” Tommy said, “I put myself in your hands. You’re the expert.”

Maengun said, “I am not an expert on anything. I am only one who has knowledge of certain things.” Then, looking straight at Alyssa, he added, “It is best that you, Bashanzhe, spend this night in the tipi alone. It is important to be with only your own thoughts before the sweat.”

A blushing Alyssa looked down at the table as Tommy said, “Of course, I understand.”

After dinner they watched some TV then Alyssa accompanied Tommy to the front porch where they were able to enjoy a long, sweet, private kiss before he went to the tipi for the night.

“So will you miss me?” she said.

“Like half of me isn’t there.”

He kissed her again then turned and walked towards the tipi but he stopped when Alyssa said, “What will your thoughts be about tonight, Bashanzhe?”

Grinning, he said, “Monster trucks!”

“Oh really?” she said with a smile; then she lifted her Tee shirt, flashed her perfect boobs at him, dropped the shirt, and walked into the house.

“Hmmm…” he muttered as he entered the tipi, “So much for monster trucks.”

* * *

“Bashanzhe…time to sweat.”

Groggily, Tommy said, “Oh…okay, Gun. I’ll be right there.”

He had actually slept pretty well that night; getting more accustomed to sleeping on the mat, although…Alyssa’s mischief had made it hard to get to sleep initially. He arose and dressed in his sweats, which seemed appropriate, then exited the tipi to find Maengun waiting on the porch.

He said, “Take this water and do whatever you need to in the house then meet me over there by the birch trees. No breakfast; just the water. Bring tobacco and don’t take to long please.”

Tommy took the bottle, went straight to the washroom, then down to the kitchen. As he downed the bottle of water he watched Maengun preparing stones outside the little hut by the birch trees, about a hundred feet from the house. When he finished the water, Tommy ran back to the tipi for a couple of cigars then went to meet Maengun at the hut.

Without any fanfare, Maengun said, “When you enter or leave the sweat lodge, you crawl on your hands and knees. When you enter you say your name, your Ojibwe name, to let Mother know who you are. You will probably want to lose the sweat shirt.”

Tommy doffed the shirt, got down on hands and knees, and crawled into the hut, saying, “Bashanzhe`igewin Inini.”

Once inside, he positioned himself near the back while Maengun remained outside and rhythmically chanted. It was already pretty steamy inside and Tommy knew that wasn’t how it was normally done, but he was still honoured to be able to experience even a small part of the ritual.

Maengun entered the hut after a couple of minutes chanting, and sat across from Tommy on the opposite side of the fire pit. He threw a small pouch of tobacco into the flame and said, “The seven stones represent The Seven Grandfathers and you can honour them by offering the tobacco.”

Tommy reluctantly took the two fifteen dollar cigars and, almost tearfully, tossed them into the fire. Maengun couldn’t suppress a small, rare smile as he began to ladle more water onto the rocks. A cloud of white steam instantly rose from the pit, filling the hut with a soft haze that made it difficult to see.

“What do we do now?” said Tommy.

“You can close your eyes and empty your mind if you like…there is no right or wrong way.”

With that, Gun closed his eyes so Tommy followed suit. Almost immediately he felt himself relax and his mind drifted into a soft, hazy sea of sights and sounds, like the unconnected memories of a dream. Suddenly his eyes snapped open as someone shouted his name—his Ojibwe name.

“What…? What!?”

He looked at Maengun who said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You called my name… Bashanzhe`igewin Inini.”

“I said nothing; and there is no one else here. It has been silent until you spoke.”

Tommy said, “How long have we been here?”

“About a half an hour.”

An incredulous Tommy said, “Get outta town…! It feels like only a couple of minutes!”

“No,” said Maengun, “It has been a half an hour.”

“Wow…it was like I was dreaming, or something. There was an…”

“You don’t have to tell me, Bashanzhe.” said Maengun, “It may be a private thing.”

“I’d just like to…understand,” said Tommy.

“Very well then.”

"It was like looking through a dusty window,” Tommy said, “ but…I was walking through a forest and, when I entered a clearing, there was an eagle and a wolf waiting. Together they led me deeper into the forest until we reached another small clearing. Alyssa was there, up to her neck in a small pool of water...more like a puddle, but she was almost going under. I reached out and grabbed her arm but I couldn't pull her out. She said I should let got but I said I wouldn't...if she goes then I go too. Then the eagle and the wolf grabbed her other arm and we pulled her out easily. That's when you called my name."

"I never called your name," Maengun said.

Tommy said, “Oh…well, what do you think it means?”

“It is more important what you think it means.”

“Well,” Tommy said, “maybe the wolf and eagle were my manitous…no…no…one was probably my guide and one was Alyssa’s. And the puddle could be the bad time she had before we met. So, I was able to help her but…not alone. She had to help herself too.

“You might not agree, Gun, but I think it says that we’re…good together…What do you think it means?”

“I can not find fault with your assessment,” replied Maengun.

Surprised, Tommy said, “Really…? I wonder which guide was mine.”

Maengun said, “To many, the eagle represents courage and bravery while the wolf is associated with loyalty, honour, and integrity.”

“Uh huh…” said Tommy, “then both of them might have been Alyssa’s…”

“No, I believe the wolf was your manitou,” Maengun said flatly.

They both exited the sweat lodge, again crawling on hands and knees. Tommy stood and offered to help Maengun tidy up the hut but he said, “You go and clean yourself up. I will take care of this then we will have breakfast.”

Tommy thanked him and started for the house, then he stopped, turned and said, “Gun…can I ask you a favour? Alyssa is going to be curious about what happened in there and I was wondering…could you tell her? I’m not sure why, but I don’t…”

“I will do as you ask,” Maengun said.

Tommy put on his sweatshirt but, realizing his sweatpants were soaked, went to the tipi for fresh clothes, then into the house for a shower. He stood under the warm spray for nearly twenty minutes contemplating his sweat lodge “vision.” He hadn’t known what to expect when he went in there but it wasn’t that; and he didn’t know what to make of it. The “dream,” or whatever it was, seemed to validate his relationship with Alyssa but there was more to it. Tommy did feel “cleansed” after the sweat; it seemed to wash away the importance of other things in his life in order to make more room for her.

He stepped out of the shower and dressed then opened the door to see Alyssa standing there; exquisite in a light summer dress and bare feet. As soon as she saw him she started to cry and threw her arms around him in the tightest hug he could remember.

“Is there something wrong, Babe?”

“No, no,” she said, “My father told me about your vision, that’s all…Things couldn’t be more right.”

“I’m not sure if it was a ‘vision’ but, whatever it was…it seems good…right?”

She stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head down to a hard, tearful kiss and said, “Better than good, Tommy…way better.”

They went down for breakfast and spent the rest of the day packing and preparing for their flight to New York. Just after noon they loaded the rental car after which Mino and Alyssa embraced in an extraordinarily long, tearful hug. When it was Tommy’s turn, Mino hugged him just as long and, just before she let go, she said, “Come back soon, ningozis…Promise me.”

“I will,” he said, “and thanks for everything.”

Maengun stepped up and firmly shook his hand, looking straight into his eyes but saying nothing. Tommy nodded, understanding what he was asking, and said, “I will Gun, with my life.”

Several other people came by to wish them well and they finally got on the road around two in the afternoon, headed for their five o’clock flight. Alyssa drove while Tommy, surprisingly exhausted from his sweat lodge experience, napped in the front seat. He rested all the way to the airport where she had to rouse him as they pulled into the parking lot. As they were walking to the car rental booth, Tommy said, “Hey Al, what does ‘ningozis’ mean?”

“It means ‘my son’,” she answered.

* * *

The flight landed in New York around three A.M. Wednesday morning and, after a quick taxi ride, the two dog-tired travellers checked into their room at the St. Regis Hotel and fell into the luxurious, king sized bed. They slept until noon, ordered a ridiculously expensive, room service lunch, and then spent the rest of the day taking advantage of the sumptuous bed; both for sleep and…other things.

The next day, after a light brunch, they prepared their backpacks, packing only what the letter from the “Last Master Standing” people had outlined. Around noon, they checked out of the hotel, hailed a cab, and headed for the one o’clock interview where, if they were selected, they would be billeted at a company facility that night and head for…wherever…the next day.

“Are you nervous?” asked Alyssa during the taxi ride.

“A little, I guess…You?”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, “You know…they’re going to expect me to call you ‘master’ and you to refer to me as your slave.”

Tommy sighed and said, “Oh yeah…I suppose. I’ll do my best but I still feel like I’m pandering to a group of people who I don’t give a rat’s ass about.”

She said, “It’s not pandering Tommy, it’s…well…okay, I guess it is but, just for the game, right? We know who we are; and that’s all that really matters.”

The taxi let them out in front of a large, modern office building, about forty stories high. Once inside, Tommy had to chuckle at the listing for ‘slaves-r-sluts.net – 3rd Floor’ on the directory board. Both were visibly anxious during the elevator ride and the walk down the hall; and, as they went into the office, Alyssa audibly giggled when she saw the pretty receptionist, complete with leather collar.

“May I help you?”

Tommy handed her the letter and said, “We’re here about an interview for ‘Last Master Standing’.”

She handed him the letter back. “Yes, down the hall to your right, second door…you’ll see the security guard.”

As they proceeded down the hall, Alyssa went into slave mode; eyes down and hands behind her back. The security guard, a large man as tall as Tommy, verified the letter then said, “Right in there. They’ll be starting in a few minutes. You should have her in a collar and leash; I can get one for you.”

“Only poorly trained slaves need to be on a collar and leash, wouldn’t you say?” Tommy said, then turned and entered the large hall.

As Alyssa moved to follow, the guard stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She tried to sidestep but the burly man blocked her again. Tommy turned and said, “What the hell are you doing? She’s with me.”

The guard said, “Well, if she was wearing a collar you could just yank it and pull her around me, couldn’t you!”

As he said that, Alyssa stepped back, put her shoulder down, and rammed the guard in the chest, catching him so unaware that he fell to the floor, landing on his butt.

“WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!” said the guard, as he started to get to his feet. Tommy quickly stepped in front of him and motioned for her to go into the hall. She stepped inside then turned and waited for her master. She had never seen him in a fight but she had no doubt that Tommy could take care of himself. She could see it in his demeanor as he stood right in the face of the guard, calmly looking him straight in the eye.

“As I said before, only those who are poorly trained require a leash.”

The guard backed off and Tommy turned, leading Alyssa into the hall. There were about twenty other couples already waiting in the hall; masters sitting in folding chairs with collared and leashed slaves sitting at their feet. One of several production people, who had watched the altercation at the door, motioned for Tommy to take a seat. Alyssa, like the other slaves, took up a position sitting at his feet.

Tommy looked around the room and marveled at the disparity among the “masters.” Most were average looking guys; some were middle aged school teacher types while others were more like businessmen. A couple of them were pretty grungy; and another looked like a priest. Most of the “slaves” were fairly attractive but a few were a little on the overweight side; one of them being quite obese, a fact accentuated by the tight, leather bustier she wore.

An athletic looking blonde man, in his mid thirties, stood up with his equally fit looking slave, and walked over; taking a seat beside Tommy. “Hello, I’m Albert and this is Willy, my slave and my wife.”

He shook Albert’s hand and said, “I’m Sam.”

Alyssa and he had talked about this kind of thing at great length; while they were in this game she would be treated as a hard core slave; and a slave does not get introduced as a person. She is merely the property of her master…and, it was a way for Tommy to avoid using her name.

Albert, whose accent easily tagged him as German, was one of only two others, besides Tommy, who didn’t have a collar on their slaves. He didn’t question the fact that Tommy didn’t introduce her, he just continued: “Your slave is very beautiful and I see she is willing to put herself at great risk to stay at your side.”

“Yes,” Tommy said, “she has worked hard and taken her training very well.”

He had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to talk about her in this manner for as long as they were in this stupid game. He made a mental note that, when he got the time, he would have to come up with something really nice to do for her when all this was over.

“Quite the mixture of people here, don’t you think, Sam?”

Tommy said, “Yes, I’d have to agree. I’m a little surprised really, at how…average they look.”

Albert chuckled, “I know what you mean but…I keep looking at that heavy woman over there. I think she is having difficulty breathing with that bustier.”

Tommy looked over at the corpulent woman in the bustier and it was clear that Albert was right. Her face was red and you could see that she was in some distress. He looked at her master, a bald, dirty, unshaven man in his fifties, who was paying no attention at all to his slave. Tommy was tempted to alert one of the dozen or so production people but he saw that two of them were looking right at her.

He was relieved when one of them firmly said, “You…have your slave stand up right now.”

The man told his rotund slave to stand which immediately relieved the pressure from the bustier and she started to breathe easier. Tommy couldn’t help but wonder if this girl’s self esteem was so low that she felt she needed to be humiliated by even a low life like this guy. He noted something else as well.

“For a ‘master,’ he did what he was told pretty quick, eh?”

Albert agreed, “Ya, I don’t think we will see him in the game.”

“Oho! You clearly expect to be one of the players!”

“Sure, of course,” Albert said, “I think you will be there too, and… Scheisse!”

Tommy looked to see what had caught Albert’s attention and saw a huge, Polynesian looking man leading a slim, wan looking, forty-ish woman into the hall. The woman was collared and leashed and had her hands cuffed behind her back. She looked…broken; sad; the closest thing Tommy had seen to a real slave…not a volunteer.

The man sported long, black hair, slicked back in a pony tail. He was about as tall as Tommy but would have outweighed him by fifty pounds easy. When he sat he yanked hard on the leash, forcing the woman to fall hard to her knees.

“Jesus!” Tommy said.

Just then one of the production people, a young man in his thirties, stepped forward and said, “Quiet please…quiet…! Okay everybody. My name is Jason Forsythe and, on behalf of ‘slaves-r-sluts.net,’ I’d like to thank you all for coming. We have four interview rooms set up so we should be able to get through them in pretty good time. Once the interviews are complete we will compare notes and then make out final selections; again, we will try to waste as little time as possible.

“A few points before we start: ‘Last Master Standing’ is a wilderness game that will require you to essentially survive on your own in the wild. The selected masters will be allocated a patch of ground, about twenty five metres apart. You will have to create your own shelters, using only the available materials at had; that is, branches, grasses, etc. You will have no camping or survival gear with you; only the clothing you are currently wearing and the extra set in you backpacks, as outlined in the letter.

“You will have no matches, lighters, flints, or any other means of fire, other than whatever you find near your camp. A central water source will be provided but it is not, I repeat, NOT potable without being boiled for at least five minutes. You are not allowed to share with, or help other teams.

“Tournaments will be held every other day; and the tournaments will eliminate one master each time until the end. Unless instructed otherwise, slaves must be led to the tournament area naked, collared and leashed, with hands bound behind their backs. The tournaments have been created to minimize the risk of injury to the slaves but, we cannot absolutely guarantee that injuries will not occur. We have medical staff on hand to treat slaves’ cuts, etc. but, if they require medical evacuation, that master will be eliminated from the game.

“We will address only the masters; slaves are the responsibility of those masters and have no standing, as far as the game goes. Other than the requirement of the tournaments, the masters will determine what their slaves wear, where they sleep, etc.; again, within the rules of the game.

“Selected masters will be billeted in single rooms which we have set up in this building. We will then proceed to the game location first thing in the morning. Anyone wishing to drop out should do so now. Are there any questions?”

Tommy looked down at Alyssa who immediately rested her head on his knee; her way of telling him that she was okay with all this. A couple of the other “masters” asked questions that required Jason to repeat what he had already said; and one master—the “priest” —dropped out because of the “naked” thing; one had to wonder what he was actually expecting here. The interviews started right away as four couples were called out of the hall while the rest waited for their turn.

Tommy was called around twenty minutes later and entered a room where Jason and two other people were sitting side by side. He motioned for Tommy to sit opposite them, about six feet away, and Alyssa knelt on the floor beside him. Jason introduced him to the other male panelist, Eddie, another thirty-ish man, and Rebecca, a hard looking dominatrix type with jet black hair pulled severely into a pony tail.

Jason and Eddie asked him a barrage of predetermined questions: How long have you had her? Do you whip her? Do you bind her? Then Jason asked him some strange questions…

“Have you ever been to British Columbia?”

Tommy said, “Yes.”

“Do you have family there? You know, father, mother, brother, sister, aunts and uncles…like that.”

He said, “No, none at all.”

“Are you familiar with the parks and lakes in BC.”

“No,” he said, “I’ve never traveled around the province at all…just visited some friends near Creston.”

“Okay,” said Jason, “that’s all I need.”

Then Rebecca finally spoke up, “Your slave took on that big security guard to stay at your side so she must be very loyal and obedient. She will obey you without question…is that true?”

Tommy said, “Yep.”

“Then command her to come over here and lick my cunt.”

Even the two other men were surprised and Tommy felt Alyssa squeeze his knee, telling him that she would do it if he told her to but Tommy said, “I’m sorry…you must have misunderstood. She is MY slave, not yours.”

Rebecca snapped, “Yes, exactly…now command her to—”

“Miss! Would you please take a long hard look at my slave!” said Tommy.

Clearly annoyed, Rebecca said, “Yeah…so, what about her?”

“Is she not possibly the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?”

The two male panelists nodded their agreement but Rebecca said, “She’s okay, I suppose…so what?”

Tommy leaned forward, glaring directly at Rebecca and said, “I have spent considerable time and effort keeping my slave in pristine condition for my own pleasure. Why on earth would you think that I would have her sully herself by placing her mouth anywhere near your obviously well used vagina? God only knows where it’s been!”

Jason and Eddie immediately looked at their hands and attempted to suppress their chuckles. Rebecca went beet red and her eyes shot daggers at Tommy; she was seconds away from attacking him.

Jason broke the tension as he said, “Okay…I think we have all we need. Thank you, Sam. You can return to the main hall now.”

They went back to the hall and Tommy took a seat near the back. As Alyssa went to kneel beside him she brought her head close to his and whispered, “I love you so much, Tommy.”

He was pretty sure that his rebuke of Rebecca had essentially removed even the faintest hope of being selected for the game. They didn’t need the money and, even though the survival aspect still intrigued him, he didn’t really care, but he felt bad for Alyssa; she really did seem eager to go through with all this.

About fifteen minutes later, Jason entered the hall and said, “Would the following people please come with me: Master Togo; Master Albert; Master Henry; Master Winston; Master Bobby; Master Gregory; and…Master Sam.”

“I’ll be damned!” Tommy said as he rose with the others and followed Jason into the hallway.

Jason stopped and turned towards the group, “Your rooms are along here, on the right, and a dinner will be available in the main hall in an hour or so. Please remain in your rooms until someone calls you for dinner. You will get more instructions at that time. Congratulations everybody, you are the final contestants for ‘Last Master Standing’.”

* * *

The next day found Tommy and Alyssa back on another airplane bound for parts unknown. It had been an interesting morning involving yet more instructions and security. After they had dressed everyone was patted down to ensure that they weren’t hiding anything that might assist them in the game. The slaves were subjected to a full body cavity search; thankfully by a female physician. They had been warned about the impending search while they were at dinner and, judging by the way Togo cursed under his breathe and the obvious discomfort displayed by his slave, it was apparent to all that she had something shoved up inside her.

Tommy was wearing jeans, jockeys, smart-wool socks and hiking boots, as well as a tee shirt and sweatshirt. Alyssa was identically clothed and, within the rules of the game, they each had a set of shorts, a warm jacket, spare socks, and underwear in their backpack. The slaves were fitted with collars and the masters were given leashes. That was it; they were allowed nothing else.

The contestant’s rooms had only a single bed since the slaves were expected to sleep on the floor but Alyssa managed to squeeze into the bed, essentially spending the night on top of Tommy. Both slept like week old puppies and, when they awoke, Alyssa gave him a nice massage to alleviate a stiff back; the result of lying in the same position all night. When she was done Alyssa noted that something else was stiff too so she alleviated that as well.

As he looked at the other masters sitting on the plane, Tommy couldn’t help but think that he had a distinct advantage; he didn’t give a crap whether he won this game or not. He and Alyssa could walk away any time they wanted. Neither of them cared to impress anyone and Tommy didn’t care to treat her badly just because it was the “thing to do” in this game. However; this was not the case for all the other masters.

The airline had insisted that all passengers, including the slaves, had seats but, when the seatbelt sign went off, Togo and Gregory both had there slaves kneel on the floor. The flight attendant had to ask them to move so as not to block the aisle which meant they had to cram in, between the seats. In Tommy’s mind there was little point to this, other than to show everyone how they lorded over their slaves.

As they approached their destination airport a voice came over the intercom asking for people to fasten their seatbelts and prepare for landing…at Vancouver Airport! Tommy looked at Alyssa in the window seat and both smiled as they realized that their suspicions had been confirmed; the game was set to be played somewhere in BC.

In their arrogant belief that only the “masters” counted, the production people had only asked Tommy about his familiarity with the province. He hadn’t lied; he knew very little about British Columbia, other than the small area around her parent’s community. Alyssa, on the other hand, knew the place like the back of her hand. She had canoed on just about every river with her father; they had deep woods’d many times; and she really knew how to survive in those forests.

Once they landed in Vancouver things began to happen fast. The six masters leading their leashed slaves drew a fair bit of attention as they were whisked through customs and the walk on the tarmac to the private plane virtually brought the airport to a halt. Baggage handlers, maintenance crews, boarding passengers, and pilots all stopped to stare at the parade. It was difficult to tell who drew more attention; the “captive” beauties or the men that “owned” them.

The Dash 8 Turboprop took off just ten minutes after they were all aboard; again, they had no idea where they were going other than they were headed east. Although none of the masters were speaking to their slaves, it occurred to Tommy that no one had said that was a rule so he said, “You have any idea where we might be going, Al?”

He was speaking very low but it still surprised her a bit, “Uh…It has to be Wells Gray. It’s huge and the interior has lots of bush, plus it’s the only thing in this direction…Do you think anybody can hear us?”

Tommy looked around, and behind, and surmised that nobody was paying them any mind, so he whispered, “I don’t think so…as long as we keep it down”

She motioned for him to lean closer, “If it is Wells Gray then we should be in great shape; I’ve been there many times.”

“Well, it should…like I’m the one who knows what he’s doing…at least in the beginning, so we’re going to have to work out a way for you to tell me what I’m supposed to tell you…if you know what I mean.”

The plane began to descend and start its approach to a small airport just outside the park. The Dash 8, a plane designed to land on short runways, made smooth touchdown at the tiny airport where they were unceremoniously herded into a bus for the ride into the interior of Wells Gray Park. It was just after six P.M. which meant there was only about an hour and a half of daylight left.

As they reached the interior of the park the bus ground to a halt and Jason stood and moved to the front, “Okay…we are going to exit the bus now and each master will receive a pot, a hunting knife, and a ten by ten plastic tarp. The cameras will be on from here on in with an individual cameraman assigned to each master. After midnight there will be a fixed camera aimed at the opening of your shelter. You cannot move the camera or cover the entrance to the shelter. We will take you now and show you your camp areas then you are on your own until noon tomorrow. Okay masters, follow me please.”

They all trailed Jason out of the bus and found that they were in a round clearing, about one hundred feet in diameter. Jason pointed out the communal water barrel which was just at the edge of the clearing, near the path to their individual camp areas. As they all started to follow the crew into the bush Alyssa signaled for Tommy to hold back by balking on her leash. When all the other teams were in front of them they followed. As they moved into the bush the first team in line was directed to the first camp area which was simply a small cleared bit of ground cut into the bush. Every twenty or thirty metres another team would take there spot until they reached the last camp, where Tommy and Alyssa would stay.

Everyone turned to leave except their allotted cameraman—actually camerawoman in their case. They were not allowed to speak with the photographer; they were just supposed to do whatever they were going to do as if the woman wasn’t there. The camp clearing was small and the photographer was close so Tommy decided to take charge by giving instructions. If he was doing it wrong, Alyssa would have to correct him somehow.

“Slave, please look up at me. It will be dark soon so we need to gather some tinder and firewood and maybe try a couple of rocks…er…uh…no, no, maybe a…fire plow…yeah, a fire plow. You get the firewood and I’ll make the plow.”

Tommy had seen in her eyes that the rocks idea was no good and figured the fire plow was the only other thing they’d have time for before dark. The thing was, he knew how to make one well enough, but he sucked at using it to make a coal. He went and found a balsam fir sapling, cut it, split it, then fashioned the plow and handle. It was green wood but it would have to do.

Alyssa was back in no time with an armful of firewood, tinder, and a handful of dead grass. Tommy handed her the plow set and said, “I…uh…think it’s time for you to try this…don’t you?”

Stifling a chuckle, Alyssa said, “Yes, master. I will try my very best but, may I ask you to inspect the trough to make sure I’ve done it properly?”

“Oh…yeah, sure.” He had forgotten to gouge out a trough for the handle so he stood and watched her do it as though he was the expert. He nodded his approval when she was done then used one of the larger pieces of firewood to dig out a fire pit while she started using the plow. Once the fire pit was dug he arranged some small tinder in the middle as a starter then watched Alyssa work.

The board was pretty green so he thought it would take her a while but, within a few minutes he noticed a small pile of hot wood dust begin to coalesce at the end of the trough. After one last plow she examined the dust in the trough then gently dumped it into the dead grass. She then folded the grass over and started to blow, ever so softly. Even in the dwindling twilight the white smoke was clearly visible then…flame! She placed the burning grass in the middle of the tinder, rearranged the twigs until they too began to catch, and then built a log cabin with some of the heavier firewood. She had created fire from scratch in less than forty minutes.

Tommy wanted to grab her and hug her until she squealed but he stayed cool and said, “Well done, little slave. Now, please look at me again…I think we should go back for water…”

He could see that she kept glancing at the tarp, “Uh…no…Better yet, I’ll get a couple of branches for the shelter while you…get firewood.”

He was trying not to make it sound like a question and, thankfully, he could see in her eyes that he was right, so he went and cut three six foot branches while she gathered more wood. He realized that Alyssa was thinking of a half fold leanto with the tarp so he also brought a fairly heavy fallen log, about five feet long. He actually knew what he was doing here so he cleaned the branches then twisted the corner of the tarp until he was able to tie it around one end of a branch. He repeated this at the other corner, affixing it to the other end of the branch. He placed the log in the middle of the tarp, pulled the branch forward and up, then jammed the other two branch ends, first into the knot at the top then into the log. It ended up as a small, fairly sturdy leanto with half the tarp for roof and the other half for floor.

Alyssa returned with a substantial load of wood and said, “The shelter is very well done, My Master.”

“Yeah…it’ll do for tonight I think.”

“Should we go for water now, My Master, like you suggested?”

It was pitch dark, not even moonlight, so Tommy was hesitant but she came over to him and said, “May I help you up, Master?”

He took her hand and, as he got to his feet, Alyssa put her head close to his ear and whispered, “Just stay real close to me.”

Tommy picked up the pot and handed it to her then followed her back to the path. Even with the night vision lens it was just to dark for the photographer so, after just a few metres, she turned and wisely went back to the fire.

A few more metres down the path Alyssa stopped and turned and Tommy was finally able to give her that well deserved hug. Out of sight and earshot of everybody they were able to enjoy a long, deep kiss then Tommy whispered, “You were amazing with the fire, Babe. I was hard pressed not to give you a monster hug right there on the spot!”

She kissed him again then took his hand and continued down the path even faster than before; hitting the clearing in about two minutes.

While the fire thing was amazing he was truly in awe of her ability to retrace her steps through the bush as though it was the middle of a sunny day. Maengun had tried to teach him how to navigate the woods but he just couldn’t get it. To him all the trees looked the same, to Gun, and Alyssa, they looked like signposts.

Tommy took the pot and filled it with water. Then, as before, Alyssa’s took his hand and led him back up the path. He carried the pot until they were very near the camp then he gave to her to carry the rest of the way.

The fire was going strong when they got back and Tommy chuckled when he saw that the perplexed photographer had placed the fixed camera pointed directly at the entrance of the leanto…with the fire in between.

Together they got a few rocks and arranged them as a base to support the pot over the fire. While the water boiled they removed their hiking boots then just sat together, in front of the shelter, by the fire. The shelter reflected the radiant heat so they were nice and warm, both back and front while the photographer, on the opposite side was getting pretty cold.

She wasn’t the only one. They could here people complaining in the other camps, none of which had a fire. They heard sharp smacks and painful crying from Togo’s camp and could only imagine what was going on there. Around midnight they saw a couple of flashlights coming up the path and the photographer shut off her main camera, switched on the little fixed unit, and followed her guide back down the path. Aside from the unknown number of people watching the live feed, they were alone.

Tommy looked at her and said, “Please attend to the fire, my little slave.”

“Yes, My Master,” she said and took four fairly large pieces of firewood and stood them on end in the pit, like a tipi.

They sat and watch the fire creep up the wood and, when they were sure that the high flames were obliterating the view from the camera, they moved under the tarp and quickly got undressed. Tommy started kissing every square inch of her body; something he had been aching to do all day. Alyssa lay back and relished in the wonderful heat from the fire on her skin and the marvelous heat inside her from his kisses. As he moved back up and there lips met, she spread her legs so he could slide himself into her; then she wrapped her legs around his and they just kissed and slowly gyrated their hips for several minutes. She pushed a little harder as she felt him come inside her and, as she began to convulse in her own orgasm; and knowing it would piss everybody off, she screamed, “OH YES…YES MY MASTER…THANK YOU…THANK YOU!”

They both started to laugh and shudder as their sensitive privates were still tightly engaged. Tommy withdrew and the two of them loosely tied their shirts and jeans together creating a makeshift blanket of sorts. They pulled the warm clothing over themselves and soon fell asleep in each others arms.

* * *

Tommy awoke just after first light and found that he was alone. He stretched and began to get dressed, noting that the fire had been refreshed and there was a new stack of wood. There was a sound behind the camp and he turned to see Alyssa coming up the hill followed by another photographer; a man this time. She was carrying the hunting knife, several long, straight branches, a bunch of long, thin root fibres, and something in what looked like her tee shirt, shaped like a bag.

“Good morning, My Master. I will have your breakfast ready in a minute.”

As she unfolded the tee shirt, Tommy said, “Blueberries! You’re kidding!”

“Just let me wash them for you first, My Master; and I can get more if this is not enough…I got some branches to improve the shelter as you suggested last night. Oh yes…there is a stream about a hundred metres west of us.”

He was already getting tired of trying to hide the fact that it was Alyssa who knew what she was doing. His ego had long since been filled to overflowing by the simple fact that this exquisite woman was in love with him. It dawned on him why she had wanted to be last to get a camp area; essentially everything to the west was at their disposal; and there was no danger of giving away anything to the other teams.

She handed him a double handful of blueberries and said, “Here, My Master. These are all for you. I will get some for myself later, if that’s okay.”

“No. I need you to keep up your strength, so we’ll share these and get some more for both of us later.”

They sat and ate the berries and Tommy, looking at the camera, said, “This is the first time I’ve had thousands of people watching me eat breakfast!”

“I think it’s actually millions, My Master.”

“Oh yeah? You think that many, eh…? Well I guess it’s either this or watch paint dry…! I think, after this, we should reset the tarp as a tent. We can get leaves and evergreens for the floor. Then maybe we can see about catching a fish or two in that stream you found.”

After they ate they set about creating a pup tent with the tarp. They used a sharpened stick to dig out holes to set the front and rear poles then beat out the root fibres and used them to tie a branch as the beam between the upright poles. Then they stretched the tarp over the beam, temporarily holding the sides down with heavy rocks. Tommy then made a fishing spear by splitting one of the branches part way and sharpening the two prongs. He shoved a smaller sharpened branch in the split to force the prongs apart then tied a root fibre around the split base for strength.

They walked to the stream, followed by the cameraman, and Alyssa removed her hiking boots, took the spear and gently stepped into the water, slowly moving to the centre. She stood motionless, watching the water, for about ten minutes then, suddenly, she lunged. Immediately she lifted the spear end up and threw the entire thing to shore beside Tommy who removed the wiggling, foot long trout, snapped its neck, and tossed the spear back.

He smiled as he heard the cameraman mutter, “Son of a bitch!”

A few minutes later they were hiking back to their camp with two rainbow trout, and a much impressed photographer. After cleaning, cooking, and eating the fish they set about improving the floor of the tent and making some J shaped tent pegs to hold the sides down better without puncturing the plastic. Later, they collected more firewood then went for a walk, exploring and looking for things that could be of use. Just before noon they walked down the path toward the clearing.

They passed Togo’s camp and saw the tarp just thrown over a couple of bushes; if it rained it was going to be a miserable place to be. Tommy said hello to Albert as they passed his camp. He had set up a pretty good leanto but, like the others, had no fire and probably hadn’t eaten. Albert and his slave/wife followed them and they entered the clearing together; the last to arrive.

Jason, standing at a kind of dais, motioned for them to sit with the others on a set of bleachers facing him and two cameras. “Welcome masters. I hope you all had a good first night…Master Togo, how was your camp last night?”

Dirty and miserable, he answered, “Fucking terrible, man! This slave is fucking useless and we didn’t have a fire…How come that bastard had a fucking fire?”

His slave, hands bound, naked and filthy, was kneeling on the ground at the end of the bleachers. It was obvious that she was to remain naked for the entire game. She’d probably be lucky to get any food at all and a decent night’s sleep just wasn’t in the cards. Everybody; the crew and the masters, found it difficult to look at her.

Jason said, “Well, Master Sam, would you tell us how you managed to make a fire?”

“I made a fire plow and Al…er…my slave used it to get a fire going.”

“BULLSHIT!” said Togo, “You probably snuck in a lighter or something!”

Before Tommy could respond, Jason said, “Master Sam, could you have your slave fetch the…what did you call it…fire plower?”

“Uh…sure. Bring some grass and tinder as well…uh…slave.”

“Yes, My Master,” said Alyssa then she immediately ran back up the path.

“While we’re waiting for Master Sam’s slave,” said Jason, “let me go over a few things. Your first tournament will be tomorrow at two o’clock. You will meet here at one thirty and we will bus you to the location. It will involve canoeing, climbing, maybe swimming, and your rope skills. As always, your slaves must enter the tournament area naked, hands bound behind, and on the leash. You will be playing for a reward and the right to continue in the game. The last place finisher will be eliminated from play. Does everybody understand?”

The masters all nodded that they did understand and just then Alyssa returned with the fire plow. Jason told her to bring it to him but she ignored the command and instead brought it to Tommy who smiled and said, “Thank you, my little slave, now please show it to Jason.”

Jason examined the board and handle for a few seconds then handed it back to Alyssa, saying, “I wonder if we could have a demonstration?”

Sam said, “Maybe…but not for free. Please come here, my little slave.”

When she was back beside him he said, “Another pot, tarp, or knife…what would be better?”

“The pot would be good, My Master.”

“Fifteen minutes?” said Tommy

“Ten.” She answered.

“Okay,” said Tommy, “the big guy over here seems to be inferring that I lied about my slave making a fire with this so I think he should put his money where his mouth is.”

Togo flashed a middle finger at him as Jason said, “What did you have in mind?”

Looking straight at the big Hawaiian, Tommy said, “If she can get a fire going in less than fifteen minutes, he gives us his pot. If she can’t do it then he can have my pot.”

“What about it, Master Togo,” said Jason, “are you up for this challenge?”

“Aw…he so full of shit! He’s bluffin’…just trying to look like a big shot!”

Tommy said, “You could be right, Tongo. But, if your too scared—“

“It’s TOGO, asshole! And I sure as hell ain’t afraid of you…make it your tarp and we got a bet!”

Tommy agreed and Alyssa set up while the cameraman got into place and Jason readied a watch. “Are you ready? Good. Then start…now!”

She started the methodical sliding of the handle in the trough while everyone but Togo sat and watched silently.

“Ain’t gonna happen bitch!” said Togo, “You’re gonna be sleeping in the open tonight, cunt; and if your master is too chicken to beat you, I’ll take care of it for him…! Look! The thing’s not even smokin’ yet!”

Alyssa was hard pressed not to laugh at the greasy buffoon’s lame attempts to distract her. She wanted to say, “Smoke’s a bad thing, you moron!” but she just kept sliding the handle back and forth until, about eight minutes in, she picked up the board, gently tipped it into the grass, folded and softly blew. As before, white smoke started to billow from the grass then…fire. She placed it in the tinder and when that caught she arranged the rest of the twigs into a small log cabin.

A clearly impressed Jason said, “Eight minutes, forty three seconds!”

“Fucking lucky BITCH!” said Togo, as he stood and began to step out of the bleachers.

Tommy immediately stood and motioned for Alyssa to come and stand behind him. Two large crewmembers, with the words “SECURITY” emblazoned on their black tee shirts, stepped forward and Togo wisely returned to his seat.

Jason said, “Well, that was interesting…That’s all for now so you can return to your camps and we’ll see you tomorrow…uh…A member of our crew will collect the pot and bring it to you, Master Sam. It seems you have a very talented slave there.”

“Tip of the iceberg,” said Tommy.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day doing more around the camp site. Alyssa had foraged some more and found some leaves from which she could make a kind of herbal tea; and she found some edible mushrooms. Tommy worked at closing off the rear of the tent and rigging a small canopy. Later they fished again and Tommy took a turn, bagging a nice fourteen inch rainbow…after several misses. A while after they ate supper they heard cheering—in German—coming from Albert’s camp then noticed the twinkling light from a campfire. A minute later they heard the unmistakable voice of Togo telling everyone to go fuck themselves.

When they were ready for bed they heated some rocks and placed them at the back of the tent, added a couple of heavy logs to the fire and hit the sack.

Tommy awoke at dawn and again found himself alone, but for the ever silent camerawoman. As before, the fire had been refreshed, the pot full of water was boiling away, and the pot they won from Togo had been filled with water as well. Alyssa had obviously been very busy.

He heard footsteps from behind the tent and turned to see her with another shirt full of blueberries, “Good morning, My Master. How’s your back this morning?”

“Surprisingly, it’s not too bad,” Tommy said, “I see you have ordered breakfast for us.”

Chuckling, she said, “Yes…I’ll have them cleaned in just a minute, My Master. I’m sorry but I can’t find anything to hold the tea.”

He was really beginning to hate the “My Master” thing so, as she passed him a handful of berries, he motioned for her to sit beside him, looked straight into the camera, and said, “From here on in you will address me as T…er…Sam or Sammy. Is that clear?”

“Uh…yes, Sammy.”

“And I will address you as…Babe. Okay?”

“Yes, of course, My…Sammy,” said Alyssa. She knew all along that he was going to have trouble with the master/slave thing and, frankly, she didn’t much care for it either—especially after seeing Togo and that poor decrepit woman he called slave.

They puttered around for the morning, fished some more, then after lunch they prepared to head for the clearing. Alyssa got the leash and the rope then asked, “Should I strip now?”

“No,” he said, “We should be able to do all that at the last minute. Jason said ‘your slaves must enter the tournament area naked’. He didn’t say that you had to make the trip naked.”

At the clearing they all boarded the bus with Jason and some of the crew. Only Albert and Tommy did not have their slaves naked and bound and Tommy asked Jason, “Does the bus go right to the tournament location or is there some walking involved?”

Jason said, “No walking…the bus stops right at the location.”

Tommy looked at Alyssa and shrugged and she began to undress in the seat. Before visiting her parents, Tommy had practiced for hours on different rope techniques and had perfected an inescapable wrist cuff tie that could be undone in a heartbeat. He used that tie to bind her hands behind her then attached the leash. Albert had also prepared his wife, finishing just as the bus arrived at its destination.

They piled out of the bus and found themselves at a small, sandy beach beside a fairly fast moving river. There were no whitecaps or rapids but one could see the current was pretty strong. Jason had them all move to coloured mats, then he moved in front of them and said, “Okay…in this tournament you will untie and unleash your slave then you and your slave will paddle a canoe, upstream, for one kilometer. When you reach the designated spot you will see, on the rock face, a package with a coloured flag. Your slave will climb and retrieve the package with your colour while the master holds the canoe in place. Once the package is retrieved you will paddle another one hundred metres up the river to a designated beach. On that beach you will move to an A frame marked with your colour and there you will use the single length of rope in the package to hogtie your slave, attach the rope to the block and tackle, and hoist your slave at least twenty four inches off the ground. The slave must remain suspended for one minute. After one minute you will lower your slave, undo the hogtie then get back to your mat with your slave re-leashed and her hands re-tied. There will be a one hour time limit for this tournament. Does everybody understand?”

They did so he continued, “Here is what you are playing for: The first three to complete the task will get two metal plates and two cups and forks and spoons, two blankets, one flint, one set of fishing gear, and a spool of nylon cord. Additionally, the first place finisher will get two pounds of coffee, a French press brewer, two pounds of sugar, and twenty tea bags. The last place finisher will be removed from the game. You have one minute to instruct your slave.”

Tommy had done a fair bit of canoeing with Maengun but he knew that Alyssa was the one to guide it, “You get in the back, okay?”

Alyssa said, “Yes…but the canoe is backwards…the back is in the water and the front is on the beach.”

Jason said, “Ready…GO!”

Tommy undid the locking end of the rope, told her to yank her wrists, and then slipped the binding off. He unclipped the leash, stuck it and the rope in his pocket, and they rushed to the canoe. She jumped in the back while he pushed it into the water, facing it upstream. He jumped in and they started to paddle; Alyssa setting the rhythm shouting “Zisip”, a bastardization of “zisipobizh” or “pull together”.

It was hard work but they paddled in unison and in a straight line. They had a decent lead as all of the other masters had gotten in the back forcing the girls to push the canoe into the stream. Tommy’s back was beginning to ache but he ignored it and kept digging the paddle into the stream. Any hesitation would cause the canoe to backtrack and they would have to work even harder.

She was relentless, shouting “Zisip…zisip…zisip” until, almost totally exhausted, Tommy finally saw their orange flag on the right hand rock wall, about ten feet up. Then he heard her shout, “We have to paddle passed it and let the canoe come back and wedge in the rocks.”

He understood and pulled hard to get about five metres ahead then, at her signal he stopped paddling and let her guide the canoe back into the shoreline rocks. It jammed itself in solid so he didn’t have to hold it in place and Alyssa immediately stood and started to climb. The rock face was almost sheer with only a few handholds; however, she managed to scrape her way up the ten feet and grab the package. But there was a problem. There was really no way for her to climb back down without falling.

They looked at each other for a moment then Tommy braced himself, stuck his arms out and said, “JUMP!”

Without hesitation she pushed herself away from the wall and jumped, backwards, like she was jumping into bed. He caught her and immediately crouched, slowing her momentum and placing her on the floor of the canoe.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“Yes..yes…! Let’s paddle.”

They quickly regrouped and got back into position but Alyssa couldn’t push off so they had to switch. When they were ready Alyssa began to paddle hard as Tommy gave it everything he had and pushed the canoe forward enough to clear the rocks. Together they paddled the last hundred meters to the beach and, as the canoe touched shore, Tommy jumped out and, purely on adrenalin, pulled it completely out of the water.

They rushed to their allotted A frame and Alyssa lay on her stomach and crossed her wrists behind her back. Meanwhile, Tommy had retrieved the rope from the package but had to think a minute. The rope was only about five metres long and he had to figure out how to do the hogtie and suspend her without putting undue strain on her shoulders and hips. They had a good lead so he had some time.

Finally he tied her wrists with a single loop then brought her feet up until they were touching her hands. He bound her ankles with another single loop, pushed the rope under her stomach, all the way around then used an Englishman’s knot to secure the waist rope so it wouldn’t slip. He had just enough rope to make a loop with a bowline and hook it on the block and tackle.

“You ready?” he said.

“Yes…go ahead,” said Alyssa.

Albert and his Willy hit their A frame just as Tommy started to lift her up. The strain caused Alyssa to cringe and moan a bit but she said, “It’s okay…keep going.”

She was tilted forward a bit so he had to lift her pretty high to get her head above the two foot mark. When he cleared the line Jason said, “Your time starts…now!”

There had only been enough rope for a single coil around her waist and it was digging in pretty good. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing in short gasps; she was handling the strain and she knew that, if Tommy had been a lesser man with the ropes, it could have been much worse. Still…it was the longest minute she had ever experienced. She almost cried when she heard Jason yell, “TIME!”

Tommy immediately set her back on the ground and quickly untied her just as Albert started to lift Willy. Only her wrists and ankles were secured and she began to sob noisily as he continued to hoist her up.

Tommy helped Alyssa to her feet but she was pretty wobbly so he put his arms around her waist, lifted, and carried her to the mat. She knelt so he wouldn’t have to steady her as he re-bound her hands then, with the leash clipped in place, he helped her stand.

“FIRST PLACE…MASTER SAM!” said Jason.

Tommy leaned his head to her ear and whispered, “You are…phenomenal,” and began to brush the sand off her chest. The feeling of his hands wiping her breasts and tummy was pleasant but delight was countered by the sounds of Willy’s anguish and the sight of Togo’s canoe hitting the beach. He dragged his emaciated slave by her hair, threw her down in front of the A frame, and began to truss her up.

“Master Albert, TIME!” said Jason.

Albert hastily lowered Willy to the ground and began to carefully untie her. Meanwhile; Togo had bound his slave’s wrists and ankles in one jumble, like a calf is bound at a rodeo. As he hoisted her up, her agonizing scream, though hoarse and weak, sent a shiver through everyone on the beach.

“SECOND PLACE…MASTER ALBERT!” said Jason.

Tommy said, “Well done, Albert. Your…uh…slave did very well.”

“Danke,” said Albert, “You too. I just wish I could’ve taken her weight better…there wasn’t enough rope.”

Suddenly, Togo’s loop unraveled and Amanda fell to the ground with a sickening thud; knocking the wind out of her. He just left her lying there as Jason said, “TWENTY NINE SECONDS!”

One of the standby medical people, seeing that Amanda’s hands and feet were turning blue, had to insist that he untie her as Jason continued, “Master Togo, you are currently in third place but, if one of the remaining teams can complete the task, they will move ahead.”

Sadly, that wasn’t to be. The other teams were having a terrible time with their canoes and the time limit ran out before they could even get to the rock wall. Jason announced that the time had expired and had the teams still in the water paddle back to the starting beach. The winning teams were driven back where they were awarded their prizes and informed that last place had been determined by how far the canoes had gotten upstream. British couple, Henry and Maxine, although an experienced dom and sub pair, had never even seen a canoe before and were informed that their participation in the game was done.

On the bus ride back to the clearing, both Tommy and Albert unbound their partners’ wrists and helped them get dressed. The other masters left their slaves naked, tied and leashed. The ride back was silent but for the weak, constant sobs from Togo’s slave. He didn’t seem to even be aware that she was there.

They exited the bus at the clearing and hiked back up the path carrying their spoils. As they neared their camp, Alyssa, leading Tommy and the photographer, suddenly stopped and turned. Tommy stopped abruptly causing the camerawoman to bump into him. She apologized as Alyssa put her bags down and said, “Permission to hug my master!”

He chuckled, dropped his load, and said, “Permission granted!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “You caught me!”

Jokingly, he said, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Don’t you see, Tom…er…Sammy? It was like your vision…if I go, we both go.”

He said, “That’s a given, Babe.”

She kissed him then asked, “Did it hurt your back?”

“A bit, but it’s not too bad.”

As she turned and picked up the bags to continue, she said, “I think a massage is in order.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he said as they resumed the hike to the camp.

The pot of water had been boiling the entire time they were gone so the first thing they did was make some coffee. A few million people watched Tommy almost have an orgasm as his body got its first caffeine hit in several days.

After a dinner of fish and some surprisingly tasty, potato-like tubers that Alyssa had found, they placed one of their blankets over the leaves on the tent floor then she said, “I think it’s time for that massage so, how about getting undressed and lay on your tummy.”

“Actually,” he said, “I’d prefer it if you got undressed and lay on your tummy.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’ please,” he insisted and she slid out of her clothes and lay on the blanket, arms at her side.

Tommy removed all but his jockeys, straddled her legs, and began to gently knead her neck and shoulders. He moved his hands down her back, slowly rubbing and caressing her shoulders, arms, spine, and hips. When he began to rub and knead her bum she moaned and whispered, “It was supposed to be me doing this to you.”

“Yeah…well, it wasn’t me hanging in that A frame or climbing that rock wall.”

He continued to massage her for ten minutes, until she said, “Permission to roll over, Sammy?”

Tommy chuckled and lifted himself allowing her to roll on her back and spread her knees. As he knelt between her legs she could see that he was…ready! She also noticed the photographer, about six feet in front of the tent, aiming her camera directly at them.

“Sammy…the camera,” she whispered.

He got the other blanket and held it behind him like a cape while she pulled his jockeys down and began to stroke his achingly hard manhood. She guided him inside her as he lay down on top of her, covered by the blanket. She wrapped her legs around his and they kissed and just lay there, almost motionless. Only their breathing and moaning betrayed, to the viewers, the fact that they had climaxed—this time, without the aid of caffeine.

* * *

The next day was pretty much the same as before except that a snare, which Tommy had set early that morning, produced a nice sized rabbit which Alyssa used, along with the tubers, to prepare a pretty decent stew. It was a nice break from the fish. After their supper they had some fun trying to ditch the cameraman in the bush; finally succeeding just before the sun went down. They took the opportunity to have some rough sex up against a large fir tree and, again Alyssa shouted, “OH SAMMY…YES…YES!” Although heartfelt, it was really just to piss off the photographer.

The following afternoon found them in another tournament which involved the slaves standing on a long, horizontal, four inch round log. They stood about four feet apart with their wrists bound in front--thankfully in suspension cuffs--and attached with a rope to another log a few feet in front of them and about two feet above their heads.¬ They had to stand, teetering on the narrow log, until there was only one slave left. If and when the girls lost their balance, they ended up hanging by there arms from the higher log. The quicker they fell, the longer they had to hang.

From left to right stood Winston’s slave Rhonda, a mocha skinned, Jamaican beauty; then Alyssa; then Bobby’s slave Consuela, his tiny, mail order, Philippine bride. Next was Willy, then Amanda, Togo’s unfortunate slave, and lastly, Gregory’s tall, Russian born slave, Oksana.

At fifteen minute intervals the masters, lined up behind the girls, out of order, would administer one lash horizontally across the butt of a slave, with a flat bladed, leather flogger. The masters would move over one place every interval. They started off with Albert behind Rhonda and Togo behind Alyssa. Gregory was set to whip Consuela, Sam would lash Willy, Bobby was behind Amanda, and Winston set himself to flog Oksana.

It didn’t look good for Alyssa; no matter how well she balanced, it was a given that Togo would hit her with more than enough force to knock her off. Luckily, at the eleven minute mark, Consuela lost her balance and was left hanging off the higher beam. This determined who was going home so all they were playing for was a prize, similar to the luxuries of the first competition.

At the first fifteen minute mark Albert whacked Rhonda hard but she managed to retain her stance—barely. Togo landed a vicious blow, low on Alyssa’s butt and she joined Consuela, hanging by her arms. With Alyssa out, Tommy chose to give Willy a relatively soft blow and she had no trouble staying on the beam. Amanda withstood Bobby’s lash but Oksana fell at the touch of Winston’s flogger. At this point, any master whose slave had fallen had to step out.

It ended at the next interval with Amanda lasting the longest; and the other girls were quickly released. Togo walked about boasting of his victory as though he had done it all by himself.

Later that night, after they had eaten, Alyssa and Tommy, trailed by the ever present cameraman, took a blanket to a small clearing west of their camp, and just lay there, cuddled together, admiring the beautiful night sky.

“How are your shoulders?” said Tommy.

“A little sore,” she said, “but they’ll be okay by tomorrow.”

“You want me to rub ‘em or something?”

“No…it’s just nice snuggling like this.” She said, “…I’m sorry I didn’t last longer today—”

“No, no, no,” he insisted, “We just got unlucky that you had Togo behind you. The guy weighs like…three fifty; and he hit you lower than he was supposed to. Nobody had a chance with him there. Besides, we didn’t really need the stuff in the prize…and it was a lame competition anyway.”

“Yeah, it was kind of lame.”

“It was, you know,” said Tommy, “At least the first one had some wilderness stuff with the canoeing. This one just seemed to be designed to make the girls suffer.”

“I guess that’s what the viewers want to see,” she said.

“I suppose,” said Tommy, “At least Amanda might get a little better treatment tonight…I wonder…if there is a way to get her away from him. Like…rescue her, or something.”

“She probably wouldn’t want you to.”

Surprised, Tommy said, “What…? Oh no…I don’t think that’s true.”

Alyssa sat up a bit, glanced at the camera, and said, “Uh…Sammy, I love you so much for thinking that you can help but…well, I think you’re being a little naïve.”

“Like I said…cute, not smart…! I don’t get it.”

She chuckled and said, “Did you notice her thighs and belly…the scars?”

“Yeah…probably from a single tail whip of some kind.”

“No sweetie,” she said, “they’re razor cuts…she’s a cutter.”

“You’re kidding!” he said, “Why…why would somebody do that?”

Alyssa said, “I don’t know…Jamie has a cousin who’s a cutter. She suffered a lot of abuse as a child; and I think she’s bi-polar. She takes some really heavy medication and still sees a therapist, as far as I know.”

“And you think Amanda is like that?”

She continued, “Maybe. But I think she feels that she has to suffer, you know. It’s not that she likes the pain…she just feels better if she is in pain. In a weird way, Togo might be the perfect guy for her. He treats her like shit, which is what she wants. And…she doesn’t have to think; he makes all the decisions. If she didn’t get this, she’d probably end up killing herself.”

“Jesus…” Tommy said, and then they just sat quietly under the stars.

* * *

Tommy began to feel that the tournaments were less about ability and intelligence and more to satisfy the perceived urge of the web viewers to witness the pain and humiliation of the slaves. The third competition did little to change his view.

The girls were bound, naked of course, in a suspended spread eagle on individual frames. A random draw was conducted to match masters with slaves other than their own. The master was to use a rubber flogger and, within ten minutes, whip the slave and attempt to summon an orgasm. The time it took the master to evoke a climax would be subtracted from his own slave’s time to orgasm so, the longer she held out, the better it was for her master. The slaves had sensors, from an EKG type device, taped to their abdomens. The device would apparently signal an orgasm by flashing a red light.

The draw put Togo with Alyssa, Albert with Rhonda, Tommy with Amanda, and Winston with Willy. The prize was a wire cooking grill, a bag of rice, tin foil, a bag of mixed vegetables, and two huge sirloin steaks.

The security people sensed that Tommy was not happy that Togo was to whip Alyssa and they positioned themselves to break up any altercation that might erupt. Participants were allowed to speak so, as Togo moved in to begin, Amanda started shouting, “BEAT HER GOOD, MASTER. MAKE HER SCREAM!”

Togo began to whip her with all his strength; the only way he knew. They could only whip from behind so the lash was striking her on the butt, back, sides, legs, and inner thighs. As soon as Togo began, everyone was stunned when Alyssa started taunting, “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, YOU FAT PIG!? MY MASTER COULD WHIP ME HARDER WITH A MARSHMALLOW!”

It shut Amanda right up and Togo became red-faced with rage. He smashed the flogger down on her back and shoulders like he was trying to rip them off. Tommy was clenching his fists; wanting to tear his balls off and shove them down his throat but…he was also so proud of Alyssa, he could bust.

She was sobbing now but she kept ridiculing the big Hawaiian, “ARE YOU GONNA START SOON? I CAN’T HANG AROUND HERE ALL DAY!”

Togo looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel as he kept smashing and smashing. Then Jason shouted, “TIME!”

The security people moved in instantly to stop Togo from whipping any more and one stepped in front of Tommy, just in case. Alyssa hung in the frame sobbing and panting, ugly red welts covered her entire back, bum, and legs, but she had lasted the entire ten minutes.

Winston did surprisingly well with Willy, whipping her with a mixture of soft and hard blows while Rhonda coaxed him, “Oh yes, master, she loves the lash on her skin. Her body aches for the touch of the whip.” It was pretty erotic to watch and, at the seven minute and forty second mark, the red light flickered to life.

Rhonda then fell to Albert’s expert flogging, screaming in ecstasy, in just under six minutes. Even the red light seemed to be having a good time. Then it was Tommy’s turn.

He had cooled down enough to resist the urge to beat her into unconsciousness as Togo had tried to do with Alyssa. He stepped forward and began to flog Amanda as he had done thousands of times with other women. Togo shouted, “HE IS NOTHING! IF YOU COME YOU WILL SPEND THE NIGHT STANDING ON A ROCK!

After a full minute she had not responded at all and he stepped back, totally perplexed. Then Alyssa shouted, “KRISTEL…THINK KRISTEL!”

Puzzled, he looked at her for a moment then, “Oh…OH!”

He stopped the windmill motion, pulled back and cracked the whip hard, causing a wave to travel along the blades and snap like a bullwhip on Amanda’s perineum. She jerked sharply in her restrains and, in a low voice, said, “OHHHH!”

Tommy smiled, stepped in a bit closer, knelt on one knee, and continued the snapping action, rhythmically cracking the end of the rubber blades on her lower butt, anus, and clit. Togo bellowed at her not to come but it actually seemed to arouse her more until…the red light snapped on and stayed on.

Jason said, “FOUR MINUTES, FIFTY ONE SECONDS!”

Togo threw down the flogger and stormed back to the bus, cursing in at least two languages. The other masters went about freeing their slaves from their restraints while two security guys unhitched Amanda. Tommy asked one of the standby medics if he could have some lotion for Alyssa’s skin and one of them, a female, applied a liberal amount to her welts. The other medic was attending to Rhonda who began to cry as she was being unbound and appeared to be having some difficulty.

While all this was going on, Jason and a security man had gone into the bus to speak with Togo who now emerged and went to collect his slave. Jason then asked Albert and Tommy and their slaves to wait in the bus while the production people sorted things out.

In the bus, Albert said, “I have to congratulate your slave, Master Sam. She has…testikel…uh…balls!”

Tommy, carefully helping Alyssa with her clothes, looked up at her and said, “She is the bravest person I have ever met.”

The master/slave thing temporarily faded away as they all chatted, congratulating each other, and talking about “Fat Pig”, Togo’s new nickname. They went back into character when Togo and his slave boarded the bus followed by Jason who said, “Okay, it appears that Rhonda has severely dislocated her shoulder so she and Winston are no longer in the game. That means that Togo and his slave will remain even though they finished last in the competition. We will take you back now and, Master Sam, your prizes will be delivered to your camp shortly.”

Togo grinned as though he had done something to deserve the reprieve while the others stared in silence, thinking that karma must be taking the day off. Alyssa elected to stand for the ride back so Tommy stood beside her to keep her steady and bed time proved difficult for her as she had to sleep on her tummy the entire night. The medic had given Tommy the remainder of the antiseptic lotion so, the next day, he reapplied it generously and later she soaked in the icy stream for over an hour. Tommy pampered her in every way he could and, by evening, her welts had almost disappeared.

That night, as he spooned against her, he said, “Permission to tear Fat Pig’s lungs out when this is over.”

Alyssa answered, “Permission granted.”

* * *

As Jason stood in front of the frames describing the fourth tournament, both Albert and Tommy were clearly considering walking away from this one. The slaves would be bound in the frame with arms straight up and feet together, on the ground. Five “targets” were to be affixed to the girls’ bodies; one clipped to each nipple; one sticking out of a ball gag; one protruding from her pussy; and one sticking out of her butt. The targets, about four inches long and resembling cigarettes, were to be removed by the master…using a bullwhip.

The first target had to be the plastic butt “cigarette” and had to be taken with the master’s backhand. No other hits would count until the butt target was removed. The master had five chances and any injuries to the slave would receive rudimentary treatment on the spot, after the master’s last attempt.

The prize was a day and a half at a luxury resort/spa and a doctor would be sent along to treat any injuries. The masters had one minute to instruct their slaves.

Tommy took Alyssa out of ear and camera shot, and said, “This may be the time to walk away, Al. We’ve had a good run and we don’t need the money—“

She said, “You can do this Tommy, you’re awfully good with that whip.”

“Yeah, I’m not too bad, I know, but…I’m a little weak with my backhand.”

Naked with hands bound behind her, Alyssa moved close to him and whispered, “If you hit me, I will bear the scar proudly…a mark of the man that I adore.”

His face expressed his dread of hurting her as she turned and walked to the frame.

Tommy’s name came up first and he was given five practice shots at an empty post. He picked a spot on the post and used only backhanded shots. All of the strokes hit the spot or were very close but they all angled to the left—which would be towards her bum. The last practice swing was pretty good and he thought if he can just catch the far right end of the little target he should miss her—barely.

He moved into position and found that the upright from the frame was in the way so he would have to move a bit to the right, making the angle worse than he would have liked. Jason asked if he was ready and he said he was then stood and looked at her for a moment. Except for the stupid, cigarette-like targets, she looked gorgeous stretched out like she was and he wished he could just go and run his hands all over her body.

He set himself, brought the whip back, letting it coil loosely on the ground, and then smoothly lunged forward. There was a sharp “CRACK!” and the target disappeared.

Alyssa’s head snapped back and she bit down hard on the ball gag, partially suppressing her scream as blood began to trickle from the small cut on her lower bum.

“SHIT!” said Tommy and he started to move towards her but she turned her head towards him and vigorously nodded and shouted, “NO, NO, NO!” into the ball gag. He stopped and Alyssa turned her head back, closed her eyes, and stuck her chest out as best she could. Then she held herself perfectly still.

He turned and walked back to his position, wiping the moisture from his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He heard Togo laugh out loud and abruptly turned towards him, stood rock solid, and snapped the whip back. The loud crack made everybody jump and the look in his eyes told Fat Pig it was decision time; either step up or shut up. Wisely, he chose the latter.

After a moment Tommy turned back to Alyssa and positioned himself slightly left of the frame post. Again he pulled the whip back, letting it gracefully coil on the ground…then; “CRACK…! CRACK…! CRACK…! CRACK…!” and the rest of the targets were gone.

A quick snap of the wrist brought the whip back and neatly coiled in his hand as Tommy moved to Alyssa along with Allison, one of the medics. Allison pressed a large wad of gauze against her cut and told him to remove the gag to ease her breathing. He undid the clasp and gently pulled out the gag as he repeated, “I’m so sorry, Al. I’m so, so sorry.”

She was crying but not so much from the pain as the fact that she knew how bad Tommy felt. He leaned his head against hers and she whispered “It’s not too bad Tommy, and I didn’t even feel the breeze from the others. Fat Pig doesn’t stand a chance so we’ll go to the spa…I love you so much…please don’t feel bad.”

Her reference to Togo made him chuckle a bit just as “Fat Pig” was moving into position. Amanda’s frame was about six feet to the left of Alyssa and Togo’s first inept attempt cracked no where near his slave, actually snapping fairly close to Alyssa. Tommy, who hadn’t been paying attention, immediately moved in front of her and let his whip uncoil to the ground. If anyone was going to get hit it would be him; and if he got hit, Fat Pig was going to end the day looking like a zebra.

Jason, attempting to diffuse the tension, said, “Wait please, Togo. I think it’s best if we take Master Sam’s slave down from the frame. I think they are too close together.”

Tommy waved away the security men and instantly moved to unclip Alyssa’s cuffs. He then picked her up and carried her to the bleachers where she lay on her stomach. Allison followed them and began to apply some antiseptic as Togo went back to work.

Even with the ball gag Amanda’s scream was piercing as Fat Pig’s next lash left a three inch gash in her butt. The third one got the target but it too left a long cut. His next attempt at one of the nipple targets missed her altogether but his final attempt left another bloody stripe just below her breasts. Togo just turned and walked back to the bleachers cursing under his breath as two security men and another medic attended to his slave.

Albert then stepped into position, visibly nervous and obviously unsure of himself with the whip. He snapped the whip forward and it softly cracked behind Willy but well away from her. Albert shook his head and repositioned for another try but then he stopped and said, “Mir verzeihen, Willy.”

He turned to Jason and said, “I cannot do this. I cannot take the risk.”

With that, he threw the whip down and went to his Willy; his slave perhaps, but first and foremost, the woman he loved.

Tommy watched them and couldn’t help but admire Albert for putting Willy ahead of this game. He also felt good that he wasn’t the only one who had difficulty understanding his girl at times. It was ludicrous, in a way, that Albert would ask Willy to forgive him for NOT whipping her! Of course, he would have done exactly the same thing with Alyssa.

Alyssa and Allison got into the four by four for the trip to the spa as Tommy went and bid Albert and Willy goodbye, “You’re a good man Albert. I’m sorry to see you go. And you Willy…you’re beautiful and you’ve made your man very proud.”

Albert said, “Danke, Sam. Good luck to you. You kick Fat Pig’s hinterteile, ya!”

They laughed and shook hands then Tommy turned and returned to the car where they had given Alyssa a housecoat to wear and lowered one of the rear seats so she could lay on her stomach. As they neared the resort Allison said, “It’s not a big cut…not very deep either. Probably only needs two or three stitches but, if you like, I’ll use maybe ten real fine stitches so there won’t be any scar.”

“I’d really appreciate it,” said Alyssa, “What about Amanda? Do you think her cuts a very bad?”

The medic sighed, “Oh yeah…they’re pretty bad; and judging by the other scars, it’s not the first time this has happened to her. I guess there are masters; and then there are masters.”

Alyssa lifted her head, looked directly at Tommy, and smiled, “Oh yes…that is so very true.”

* * *

The resort was everything it was cracked up to be. Their suite had a living room and separate bedroom and, one of the best parts was that there would be no cameras in that bedroom. They would have real privacy for the first time in almost two weeks. The mere thought of that had them both aroused.

While Tommy sipped a rye and ginger in the main room, Allison and an assistant carefully attended to Alyssa’s laceration, administering eleven stitches and applying some vitamin E liquid and a small bandage. When it healed there would be no scar.

They were then treated to a professional massage in the main room. They were on massage tables, side by side, with towels draped over their bums and Tommy nodded off under the expert hands of his young masseuse. The cameraman, realizing he was asleep, motioned to the masseur attending Alyssa to carefully pull her towel off. The instant she felt it move she turned her head towards the photographer and said, “I wonder what my master would do with the bullwhip if he knew what you were doing?”

The masseur quickly readjusted the towel and stammered, “Oh...I’m sorry…it just slipped. It was the camera guy…”

After the massage they were given housecoats and stood together while the tables were being removed. Alyssa, pointing at the cameraman, leaned close to Tommy and whispered something. He looked over at the photographer, nodded, and walked towards him. The man panicked, backed up, and tripped over a chair behind him, dropping the camera in the process. Tommy went over to help and said, “Are you okay?”

“Uh…yeah…fine,” said the photographer, unsure of what was coming next.

“Where’d you get that jacket?”

“What?”

Tommy repeated, “Your jacket. She likes your jacket and wondered where’d you got it?”

“Uh…I don’t…the company…it’s a company jacket.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Tommy and he walked back to Alyssa who was sitting on the couch sporting a devilish grin, eyes locked on the cameraman’s.

They rested for a while, then were served a wonderful seafood supper, including Tommy’s all time favourite, Alaskan King Crab. After some wine and compliments to the staff they went to the bedroom and closed the door.

Tommy immediately began to apologize again for clipping her bum but she shushed him, “Please, Tommy, don’t feel bad. It’s nothing; just a little cut and it’ll heal in no time. But…if you want to make it up to me…you can…right here and now.”

“Name it,” he said.

She pulled the belt out of her dressing gown, handed it to him, and let her robe fall to the floor, “It’s been a long time since you’ve taken me when I’m bound up so…tie me to the bed…and ravage me!”

Well…if it made her happy…He quickly used the belts from their housecoats, plus a couple of others from the closet, to bind her spread-eagled on the bed. As always, she was instantly aroused as he tied her and just the sight of her, naked and spread, was enough to stand his soldier to full dress attention.

“Ravage you, eh? Too bad I don’t have a pony’s tail…”

Alyssa turned her head and glance at the vase on the dresser…the vase that contained the three decorative feathers. He smiled and picked the long thin pheasant feather then walked back to the bed.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean that! No, Tommy please!” she protested.

She had meant the feathers of course. She knew it was his favourite thing to do and she knew it was better if she protested. All her life she hated being tickled…until that night eight years ago at the seminar. It was there that she discovered that he knew her body like it was his own; and he has gotten to know it even more since then. He could make it sing and dance at his pleasure and she had no control. He could create sensations that she never new were possible; he knew what part to touch and when to touch it; he knew when to stop and for how long; he knew when she craved a long prelude or when she just needed to blow—and this was one of those times.

He removed his robe and knelt between her legs. Alyssa lifted her head and watched wide-eyed as he slowly moved the feather down towards her tummy. With a smile on her face and a giggle in her talk, she begged, “No, Tommy…please…no…don’t Tommy…no, No, NO…NONONONONO….EEEEEE!

He touched the tip to her abdomen and began to twirl it lightly on her skin while moving it down to her thighs and back up the other side. He had no plans to touch her anywhere but here. There was no point; both of them were desperately horny already. He moved it in another, smaller circle, slowly zeroing in on the pot of gold. Alyssa had replaced her protest with a long guttural moan and was beginning to arch her back. His dick was dripping and so hard it actually hurt.

Her body arched even more as Tommy tossed the feather aside and slid himself into her. He had to resist the urge to just start hard humping her and began to grind his groin against hers. Every muscle in her body strained against the bindings; her fists were clenched; her toes were curled and she pushed even harder against him. It was too much for him to bear and he started to pound himself into her. Alyssa’s head snapped back; her face was red as she pushed like she was trying to deliver a humpback whale.

She shrieked for both of them, “AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH…” They came together; and it wasn’t gentle. It was like being hit by a bus and carried down the highway. He grabbed her hips and kept pounding himself into her, even harder than before. She bucked against him; teeth clenched; holding her breath and pushing. The top of her head was jammed into the mattress.

When they finally began to come down the other side, they were both soaking wet and panting; gasping for air. He gently lowered her hips back to the mattress and leaned forward over her, resting on his hands. His perspiration was dripping down on her as she lay beneath him; her chest heaving like she only had enough strength left to breath.

Tommy, barely able to speak, leaned close to her and said, “So…you…want to…go again?”

* * *

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?” he said as he finished applying the antiseptic and the new bandage. Both were naked, having just showered; she standing in front of the sink and Tommy on his knees tending to her cut. They had slept for over twelve hours and were getting ready to go for lunch.

Alyssa continued, “I…I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“Don’t worry about it…It gives me an excuse to play with your bum!”

Giggling she said, “No, not that…I’m sorry that I put you through all this.”

He stood up and moved so he could look at her face and said, “You mean the game?”

She was staring at her own reflection in the mirror and seemed to be grappling with some inner demon, “Yeah…the game, the tournaments, all of it.”

He said, “It’s okay, Al. We’re here together and that’s—“

She turned to face him suddenly and said, “We really love each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah…Yes!”

“I mean, It’s not an abstract thing,” she said, “It’s a cold, hard fact—we love each other as much as any two people can, right?”

Tommy said, “Yes…I don’t think there’s any question…Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” she said, “yeah, I think I am now.”

They walked back into the bedroom and sat together on the edge of the mattress, and he said, “You do realize that only one of us has any idea what you’re talking about—and it ain’t me!”

She took his hand and looked into his eyes, “Did you sense anything…different last night? When we made love, I mean.”

“Uh…well, we were crazy horny almost the instant the door closed. That was kind of new.”

“Yes, Exactly!” she said, “The moment we were alone, just you and me, we were suddenly…hungry for each other. It’s not like we haven’t been making love all along but, when that door closed, it was like the rest of the world ceased to exist…it was just the two of us.”

He said, “It was…amazing…very intense…but, I’m still not sure—“

“I don’t want to be hurt anymore,” she said.

Tommy said, “Oh…you mean…no more bondage stuff…really?”

“Oh, no, no…I love that…I mean…like Amanda.”

Completely surprised, he said, “Like Amanda!? You are NOT like Amanda…not even close!”

She turned towards him and gently pushed him back on the bed then she moved on top of him and, with her face very close to his, she said, “Look, when we came here I knew what it was going to be like. I knew they would do stuff like the bullwhip. I wanted to take whatever they had, no matter how bad it was…for you.”

“For ME!? I don’t want—“

She put her fingers on his lips, “Shhhh…let me finish…I have always felt that I needed to prove to you how much I am devoted to you; even after that night on the edge of the pool. But, last night I realized that you know and you love me just as much. I don’t NEED to prove it anymore.”

“You never had to, Babe,” he said.

“Yes, I did, “She said, “Not for you--and I love you for that—I had to…for me. Don’t misunderstand, I still WANT to do it, and I think that’s a good thing, and I’ll still take anything you want me to; that will never change…but, only if you want it. I don’t NEED it anymore.”

“Okay,” he said, “I think I understand…which surprises even me!”

She smiled and kissed him then said, “Good…Now, I feel something on my thigh that tells me you have a…dilemma. An adjustment may be in order.”

“Yeah, well when you lie on top of me naked, it’s kind of automatic.”

She slid down to kneel on the floor and said, “We can’t have you going down to lunch in this condition.”

“Whatever you think is best,” he said as Alyssa proceeded to make the required adjustment.

* * *

“Well masters,” said Jason, “this is the final tournament and the winner will walk away with one hundred thousand dollars! Now, in the event of a tie, the winner will be determined by an online viewer vote.”

Tommy surveyed the scene while Alyssa, again collared, bound, and naked, stood quietly at his side. There was a wooden rail, about thirty inches high, with a mechanical “spanker” positioned behind. The spanker had a huge, evil looking, rubber strap attached to the arm. In front of that was a frame that resembled a gallows. Suspended from the “gallows” arm was what looked like a plate with a hockey puck in the middle. They demonstrated the spanker on a dummy and the half inch thick strap, at least four inches wide, struck with such force that the mannequin was dislodged.

Jason explained, “All right. The slaves will be bent over the rail and restrained with their butts exposed to the spanker. The masters will use bows and arrows to shoot at the centre of the suspended metal plate. There are two phases to this competition. In the first part, hitting the centre pad will NOT trigger the spanker and will score a point. You will have five shots and any that hit the plate will trigger the machine and no point will be awarded. If you miss altogether then a point will be deducted.

“The second phase is the reverse; hitting the centre will trigger the spanker and that will score a point. Hitting the plate or missing altogether will NOT trigger the machine and no point will be awarded. If there are no questions you have two minutes to untie your slave’s wrists and instruct her.”

Tommy took Alyssa off to the side, quickly undid her wrists, and said, “We can walk away from this one…we don’t need it, remember?”

“I know,” she said, “But, you’re pretty good with a bow. My dad said you were better than him.”

“Yeah, I’ve always been pretty good with a bow…since I was a kid at summer camp, but—”

“Are you forehand good, or backhand good?” she said.

“No…forehand good, but still—”

She leaned forward and whispered, “Then don’t let it hit me,” then she turned and walked to the rail.

Tommy just sighed and stood, watching her as the little white bandage accentuated the lilt of her naked bum, gracefully swaying as she approached the rail.

Two production crewmen drew near to affix her bindings but she stopped them, “No! Only my master ties me; nobody else!”

Jason nodded and Tommy immediately went and attached her cuffs to some pre-fitted clips. She looked unbelievably sexy, sharply bent over the rail with her gorgeous rear glistening in the sunlight. Even the well used Amanda looked fairly erotic.

Tongo and Tommy were given five practice shots to get used to the compound bow, and then they moved into position. Jason then said, “Okay, Master Sam will shoot first then master Togo; alternating, one shot at a time. Whenever you’re ready, Master Sam.”

Tommy turned towards the target, raised the bow and let fly, hitting the little pad almost dead centre.

Jason shouted, “One point for Master Sam. You’re turn, Master Togo.”

Fat Pig let fly and the arrow pinged off the metal plate, triggering the spanker. Amanda’s scream was like something from a horror movie but, it was the sound of the strap smacking her bottom that startled everybody, even Tommy. He had to turn and take a deep breath as Togo’s slave wailed and moaned on the rail. When he turned back he glanced at her beet red ass and shuddered.

It really wasn’t a problem for him to hit the little pad. He had always been a marksman with a bow; at one point, when he was much younger, he toyed with the idea of trying out for the Olympics. Each time his turn came up he pegged the centre of the pad with little effort. Fat Pig however; only managed to hit the centre on his second and fifth shots, forcing Amanda to endure two more savage strikes of that diabolical strap. The first round ended at five to two, in favour of Tommy.

Phase two started with Fat Pig and he successfully stuck the centre pad, triggering the strap once again. He seemed to be more motivated in this round, smiling as his slave sobbed despondently. Tommy drew back and let fly, sticking the arrow into the wooden arm above the plate. No trigger and no point.

Togo was again successful with his next shot but missed the next two. Tommy had a nice neat row of four arrows sticking out of the wooden arm. Togo carefully took aim for his last shot, muttered something, then let it go. Amanda’s shriek and the smack of the strap signaled his success. The score was now tied at five all.

Tommy took his position and looked at Alyssa. He knew that she would say it’s okay; it’s just one smack. He remembered that day he wrapped the bullwhip around her thigh. “It’ll be okay,” she said. “Just one time,” she said. He saw a little droplet of water drip from the tip of her nose. She wasn’t perspiring so it had to be a tear. He stepped up, drew back the bow…and completed the row of five arrows in the wooden arm.

He immediately walked to her and began to undo her restraints as Jason spoke into the camera, “Well, ladies and gentleman, we have a tie so, we need your help. Please log in to the website listed at the bottom of your screen and vote for either Master Togo or Master Sam. We are going to go off the air for an hour or so but we will be back at exactly eight P.M., Eastern. Please help us out folks and vote for the master who you think deserves to leave here with an extra one hundred grand in his pocket. See you at eight.”

While Jason had been speaking, Tommy had gotten Alyssa’s clothes and began to dress her. One of the crew was about to protest but the camerawomen stopped him and, while Jason explained the voting procedure, the viewers watched possibly the most romantic thing they had seen during the entire game.

Tommy had slipped her tee shirt on then undid the cuffs and collar and tossed them aside. He knelt and tenderly slid her panties up her legs then adjusted them when they were in place, careful to avoid the bandage. He kissed her tummy as she stepped into her hiking shorts then he slowly slid them into place and did up the buttons. She placed her hands on his shoulders for support as he lifted her left foot, gently brushed off the sand, and slipped on her sock. After sliding on her hiking boot he repeated the process on her other foot then tied the laces.

Jason had finished his speech but they hadn’t gone off the air. The camerawoman kept her lens on Tommy and Alyssa as he stood and hugged her then, taking her hand, they walked towards the moderator.

“She should still have her collar on,” said Jason.

Calmly, Tommy said, “I don’t think so, Jason…so, what’s next?”

Realizing that it would be fruitless to press the point about the collar, he sighed and said, “Well, we have a set made up for the finale over there. In then meantime, while we wait for the voting, there are drinks and snacks so just hang around and we’ll call you when we’re ready to go back on the air.”

For the next hour everyone mulled around, some getting coffee and snacks while others prepared for the finale. Tommy and Alyssa yakked with some of the crew, including the heretofore silent camerawoman. She expressed her chagrin and admiration at how they ditched her on that first night. She asked what they had done while alone and they teasingly said that they had gone for burgers and a movie. It was clear to everyone that Alyssa was no longer in “slave” mode.

When they got a moment alone, Tommy said, “I saw that you were crying just before that last shot. Did you think I was going to trigger the spanker to win?”

She put her arms around his neck and said, “Exactly the opposite. It was a ‘cry for happy’. I knew you weren’t going to hurt me just to win the game so I started to cry a little…It’s kind of a girl thing.”

He chuckled just as Jason called them to get in place for the finale. They walked to the set and saw Fat Pig sitting in a folding chair with Amanda kneeling at his feet, still naked, tied, and leashed. There was another chair about six feet away, evidently intended for Tommy with his slave to be at his feet. Instead, he motioned for Alyssa to sit and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

When they went back on the air, Jason asked a number of questions about their time in the bush and Togo complained about everything. He complained how the other masters had way better slaves than him and how useless and ugly Amanda was. When asked what he would do with the money should he win, he said that he would get a better looking slave.

When Tommy was asked the same question he said, “We are going to donate any winnings to Plan Canada. It’s an organization that helps impoverished children all over the world.”

“All your winnings?” said Jason.

“Yep,” said Tommy, “It seems like the right thing to do.”

Jason then spoke directly to Alyssa, “Well, Sam’s Slave, it appears that you have become an emancipated woman.”

She turned to Tommy and said, “May I speak to him, My Master?”

“Yes, by all means,” he said.

Turning back to Jason, she said, “If you’re referring to the fact that I’m sitting and fully dressed; it’s because he wants me to be sitting and fully dressed. Isn’t that what a slave is supposed to do? Whatever her master wants?”

“I suppose,” said Jason, “So…if I told Master Sam that you should be naked and kneeling at his feet, you would comply?”

She said, “If he told me to, then yes, of course. But, meaning no disrespect, it’s unlikely that he would submit to you.”

Jason glanced over at Amanda. She was dirty, scarred and bruised, pale, and…completely broken, “I guess there are slaves,” he said, “and then there are slaves.”

Just then a member of the production crew signaled to Jason and he said, “Well, it is time to announce the results of the voting and find out who is the Last Master Standing.”

Jason was handed a piece of paper and he stood, faced the main camera, and said, “Over two hundred thousand votes were recorded and, with seventy percent of the vote, the Last Master Standing is…

“Master Togo!”