Island Master UK – Part 08

By Wakeysub

I woke with a start. My collar was pulsing. Master East was stood staring at me in the glaring light of the cell. He pressed a button on his control. The restraints released and the cage door swung open.


I removed the headphones and clambered out of the cage. I stood naked in front of him. My feet were set wide apart in the footprints printed on the floor. My hands behind my head with my fingers interlaced. I was focussing on his brightly shone boots. It felt like such a natural position for me to be in. My cock throbbed in its cage. He undid the gag and pulled it out of my mouth. I swallowed and adjusted my jaw to try and get rid of the stiffness.

He clipped a leash to my collar and pulled me forward out the door and up the stairs. He walked quicker than Master West. We were moving towards an area of the Island I hadn’t visited before. We followed a path through the trees and into another clearing. I was faced with what looked like a construction site. Around the clearing, other slaves were working – wielding picks, digging with spades and carrying away the soil and rocks in barrows.

This was the first time since I had arrived that I had seen other slaves up close. Like me, they were all naked with the same heavy restraints. They were all hairless and marked in the same way as me. Where the others differed was in the chastity device. Most of the others were wearing lighter looking chastity cages with an obvious padlock. There were a couple who didn’t appear to have a chastity cage fitted. Instead, they had a shiny metal collar fitted to their cock shaft. I’d seen similar devices before – secured into a PA piercing which meant you couldn’t touch the skin on your cock.

He led me towards a large wheelbarrow.

“Welcome to your new job. For as long as you are on the Island, you will be working here for 7 hours a day as part of the construction crew. Our expectations are simple – you WILL always operate at 100%. Your restraints are set to continuously monitor how hard you work and how fast you move. Restraints NEVER lie. If you decide to slack off – you WILL be shocked. One basic rule – every infraction will be worse than the one before. Each day you will just move on from the level the day before.

He positioned me between the handles of the wheelbarrow. As I moved my hands towards the handles, there was a click as my wrist restraints locked in place on restraint points on the handles. I was firmly locked in place. I glanced over at the other slaves and for the first time noticed that they were also fixed to the implement they were using. For the slaves using the spades, they only had one wrist secured. For the wheelbarrow and pickaxe users, both wrists were locked to the tool.

“At the end of that path is a skip. You will wheel barrows of soil down there and dump them.” He gestured to a path which led away from the clearing. “Today you are required to empty 12 full barrows of soil an hour. If you fail to maintain that rate, then you will be punished. That target WILL be increased every day. You are going to have to really push yourself – as well as the wheelbarrow (he laughed at his joke). Don’t even think of trying to move barrows that aren’t completely full – the levels are monitored by the slave control system. Any attempt to break the rules will result in punishment. A month of real hard work and your restricted diet, we will have that fat falling off you. Now, get on with it.”

I lifted the barrow. Even empty, it was heavy. I pushed it forward towards the hole which was being dug by the other slaves. Three of the slaves with spades worked quickly to fill the wheelbarrow. I judged that it was full and went to lift the handles. One of the slaves shook he head vigorously. I waited as extra shovels full of soil were added to the barrow piling it high. A buzzer sounded. I took it to mean that the barrow was sufficiently loaded. When the other slave nodded, I took a firm grip on the barrow handles. The barrow weighed a ton. I struggled and panted as I lifted the barrow handles and pushed it forward towards the path.

My collar started to pulse. I realised that I wasn’t pushing hard enough to hit the heart rate target. I tried to speed up and get some momentum behind the barrow. The first part of the run was down a slight slope, which made life slightly more manageable. The path was crisscrossed with roots which caused the barrow to grind to a halt. I had to use all my weight and strength to drive the barrow forward. Finally, after a couple of minutes of pushing, I saw the large skip in the distance. It was set at the end of a long steep ramp. As I moved up the ramp, I struggled more and more.

There was a metal barrier with a single slot at the top of the ramp to accommodate the wheelbarrow. I was sweating and panting by the time I aligned the barrow with the slot and pushed it into place. Once it was locked in, I lifted the handles. The contents of the barrow tipped into the skip. When the barrow was empty, I lowered the handles. I turned and ran down the slope and back towards the clearing with the barrow released from the slot. I passed another slave with a barrow on the way down. His barrow was heavily loaded like mine. He also appeared to be struggling. I pushed on, and I was soon back in the clearing. I stood panting as the shovel spades filled the barrow again. All too quickly, I heard the buzzer sound indicating that I had a full barrow.

My arms ached as I lifted the barrow again. It took all my weight and energy to push the barrow back down the path. Halfway down the track, I passed my fellow barrow slave. He was sweating really badly. The harder I tried, the more I gasped for my breath. I got to the ramp, but this time I misjudged it and ran out of energy halfway up the ramp. The barrow was unmovable as I just couldn’t get the impetus to get it moving again. I let it roll back slightly, desperately trying to make sure it didn’t fall over as I had no idea how I would ever recover from that. My collar started to pulse. I pushed forward and managed to get the barrow moving again. The sense of relief when I felt the barrow lock into the slot was tangible. I was swimming in sweat and pushed up on the barrow handles, dumping the contents into the skip below. I lowered the handles, the barrow clicked free from the slot. I realised I had lost time and when I saw the other barrow slave waiting for me at the bottom of the ramp, I realised that I was slowing his progress down as well. I ran down the slope as quickly as possible and saw him pushing up the ramp before I had even cleared it. I ran up the path as I felt guilty that my inability to complete a task could result in him being punished as well.

The 7-hour shift seemed to go on forever. I lost count of how many times I travelled to the skip – my focus was just to push on through regardless. The work didn’t get any easier. There was no time to recover – no sooner had I started to regain my breath than the barrow was refilled. My arms and legs were aching – I just wasn’t used to real work. The sun had shone down as I worked, and I felt the tightness over my shoulders that indicated that I had been sunburnt.

A whistle signalled the end of work. Everyone stood up. Master East walked over to me and reattached the leash to my collar. With a click, my hands were free from the barrow. Everyone else was putting down the tools that they had been locked to for the morning’s work.

He looked stern.

“You failed – you were 6 barrows short of your target.”

My collar exploded. I fell to the ground in agony. The shocks came in waves, every muscle in my body started to spasm.

“Tomorrow we will add one barrow an hour to your target along with the 6 you failed to deliver today.”

I was barely conscious that other slaves were flailing around on the ground around the clearing as their trainers punished them for failing to meet the day’s targets. From what I could see, everyone was being punished. It hit me that the daily targets were always going to be set to push you beyond your limits and make you drive harder. The end of day punishment was going to be a part of my daily routine. The only thing I could guarantee is that every day the penalty would be worse than the day before.

I felt the lead yanking at my collar. I realised that the shocking had stopped. I had curled up in a foetal ball on the ground in agony. When he pulled hard on the leash, I struggled to get to my feet. My muscles were aching from the 7 hours of strenuous work and the spasm inducing shocks from the collar. He dragged me back up towards the central clearing. He pulled me towards the feeding station. He pushed me down to my knees and locked my ankles into the restraints built into the feeder. He locked my wrists behind my back.

“Master West said you needed a bigger dildo after yesterday’s performance.”

He fitted a larger dildo to the post in front of my face.


I leant forward and placed my lips loosely around the head of the dildo. He clipped the cord from the back of the frame onto my collar. There was a buzz as it tightened.


I felt the cord tightening immediately. I pushed forward, trying to get to the line before the cable dragged me in place. Gagging I pulled back slightly. Today there was no slack in the drawcord. It was not as harrowing as yesterday. I tried to relax and let the dildo slid into my throat rather than trying to fight against it. I pushed forward and felt the liquid shooting down my throat. The cord held holding me firmly impaled on the cock. With a click, the line was released.

I pulled back off the dildo as far as the cord would allow and gasped for breath. Master East patted me on the top of the head.

“Good job. Longer dildo tomorrow I think – you made that look too easy.”

He undid my restraints and tugged on the leash to get me to stand and follow him. We moved towards the room where my hair had been removed.

“Time to get you cleaned up for tonight. Most of the Tops won’t appreciate your stench.”

We entered the white-tiled room, which looked as stark as ever. He moved me over to the metal frame hanging from the ceiling. He quickly positioned me spread-eagled, firmly locked to the four corners. The whole frame pivoted when he pressed a button. I was hanging upside down with my ass in the air.

He moved towards me and gripped the butt plug that had been firmly sat in my ass since last night. The neck was narrow, held firmly, gripped by my tattered asshole. As he pulled on it, I grunted.

“Silence – or you know what will happen.”

He pulled again, and I felt my ring resisting his attempts to dislodge it. He maintained a steady pressure. My ring started to weaken and open as the force increased. The head of the plug was large and firmly seated. It took a lot of effort for him to dislodge it from my guts. After much manoeuvring and manipulation, it broke out of my hole with a loud pop. I resisted the urge to scream. He started to finger my asshole. His hands were rough, I winced.

“Good, no permanent damage there. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He pulled down a hose with a large plug attached and pushed this into my sloppy hole. He used his control to activate it. I felt my guts filling with warm fluid. As it pumped steadily, I could feel my belly growing bigger and bigger. I started to cramp, but the pump just continued adding more and more fluid. It felt like my guts would burst at any minute. Then it stopped.

“So, that’s the process of cleaning your insides started. Let’s get your outside into a state that the Tops will appreciate.”

He picked up a lance and started to spray thick creamy foam over every inch of my body. The foam effervesced against my naked flesh lifting away the accumulated dirt and sweat. I could feel it irritating my skin as it did its work. He picked up a stiff brush and agitated the foam making sure that my pits and crotch were thoroughly scrubbed. It was a relief when the icy cold jet of water cut through the foam and washed it away. The jet skimmed across my skin, driving the foam away. He played the hose back and forth across my body, making sure that every inch was washed clean. He seemed to delight in playing the jet onto my balls and watching me wince as they got battered.

I felt the fluid in my guts starting to drain away. It was being pumped back up the pipe which fed the cleaning fluid into my ass. The pumping was rhythmic. I could feel it being drawn out of me.

He carried on spraying me with the jet of icy water. He adjusted the spray to make it more targeted. He played the water back and forth over my body. The water stung and left my skin red and tender. He directed the spray at my right nipple and used it to play with the ring which pierced it. It seemed to amuse him watching my piercing dance in the stream. He did the same with my left nipple.

The pump in my ass changed direction and started to pump the fluid back in again. This time the fluid was hotter and was pumping in more quickly. The cramping was so much worse. It took no time for my ass to be filled, my belly was fully stretched. The pump stopped suddenly. As he touched the frame, it righted itself. Below me, there was a large stinking pit. The fluid in the hole was bubbling, and the stench was unbelievable. He reached underneath me and pulled the plug out of my ass. The torrent of liquid flooded out of my ass into the pit beneath me. As it added itself to the pool, the smell hit me.

“One button. One button is all it would take for me to plunge you into that pit. Make no mistake I will do it – one day you will piss me off so much that I will give you a bathing session you never forget. I even get to choose whether you go in headfirst or feet first.”

I shivered at the prospect of being plunged into that foul-smelling sewerage. My ass was still draining out the cleaning fluid. Whatever it contained was designed to irritate my insides. My body was intent on doing everything it could to expel every last drop of that solution. The cramping started to subside. I was feeling increasingly empty. He picked up the lance again and sprayed around my hole with the icy cold jet. The jet aggravated my already tender ass ring. The doors to the pit beneath me slowly closed. The room was warm. I rapidly dried suspended there in mid-air.

When he was satisfied that I was dry, my ankles were released from the frame. My wrists followed. I slumped to the ground. He reattached the leash to my collar and yanked it to get me to follow him.

He walked quickly towards the large building that I had been in yesterday, trailing me behind him. The frame I was mounted to yesterday was gone. In its place was a medical chair. He led me to it. A large butt plug had been mounted in the centre of the seat. He lubed up the plug, positioned me over it, and bore down on my shoulders. Driving me onto it, stretching my asshole until it closed firmly around the neck of the plug, locking me in place. He fixed my wrists and ankles into restraints built into the arms and foot of the chair. I was held firmly in place on the chair. As he pushed my head back into the chair, the collar clicked into place.

“There, now you are ready for tonight’s entertainment.”

He refitted the blindfold plunging me back into darkness. I felt panic beginning to wash over me. What had I done? What had I let myself in for? A voice in my head started repeating the mantra that I now found so comforting. The more I focussed on the mantra, the more comforted I felt. I had found a place where I could live the life I was born to live. I could be the slave I so needed to be. IslandMasterUK knew what was best for me, and I had to trust him. I had to do whatever he told me to do. To not comply with his instructions was the worst failure. I must do whatever I needed to do to make him happy.

Wakeysub 2021

To be continued …


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5 thoughts on “Island Master UK – Part 08”

  1. He’s gonna be so buff when he’s done. I assume his punishment is still impending. Kinda scared for him for that.

  2. I love this story! Sounds soo hot, and exciting and also really realistic at the same time!
    Maybe it would be fun if you did some humiliation stuff to the slave, like make him eat disgusting foods, or clean the toilets with his tongue or something exciting like that ! :P

  3. at first i was a little upset for the slave that is is being put to use for manual labour…. but then a slaves purpose is up to its Masters and handlers and so it is entirely appropriate that the slave is put to hard work even if inside it is screaming “i didnt sign up for this i want out…” meanwhile we the reader is beginning to see more of the the island is about, IslandMaster must have some wealthy investors and clients… the organisation is intense

  4. Great story! The slave- together clearly with a load of other slaves- receives 1 on 1 training and should consider itself very special. Curious what they are building on this island. I love the fact that it’s useful for its entire waking state, even the nutrition session is part of its training, obviously the 7 hours of hard manual labor are hugely beneficial to the island infrastructure, but also to the slave’s disposition that it is not there for its own pleasure but to serve its Owners, and it will help, together with the nutrition schedule, to morph it into quite the muscular stud after a couple of months of this program. No need to invest in properly sized clothing , as the fat is replaced by hard muscle, since the only thing that needs to fit is its cockcage.
    As it gets into better shape, the evening hours of sexual use and service will get more and more intense, and reinforce that the slave’s ONLY pleasure and function is to serve and work for its Owners, and the harder the training, the better the slave. Its frustration with its own sexual gratification, and its full tender balls drive home the point that no energy should be wasted on sexual release for a slave. The dedication, top physique, permanent monitoring, excellent nutrition, hypnotic deep sleep will make for top notch health! A good investment for the Owners.
    Perfect circle!
    Thank you!

  5. i am a submissive not a slave; so some parts of many of the stories here are problematic for me. This story is one of my favorites. i DO NOT want to be 768, but some of scenes make me horny. i could play a slave no problem, but at the end of the day, the weekend, the week, the month i want to go home by myself and be free – no unwanted roommates. no 24/7.

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