Hands gripped tightly, her pink-tipped nails dug into her palm, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in her soft skin. The pain barely registered, however, as she paced, her mind preoccupied with indecision.
She paused, as did the incessant click of her heels on the hardwood, a constant companion for the last fifteen minutes. The only remaining sound was the hum of her laptop as her mother’s voice fell silent—waiting for a response. Glancing sidelong at the webpage on the computer screen, she looked for what seemed like the hundredth time at the image of the white sandy beach, azure blue waters sparkling in the sun, and the huge mansion on the ridge in the distance overlooking the bay.
“Sydney Elizabeth Greene! Are you listening to me?” Over the speakerphone, her mother’s irritated tone was shrill and Sydney quickly adjusted the volume. “You find time to call maybe once a month and then you zone out on me?”
“Um, sorry, mom. I’m preoccupied with work. What were you saying?”
“Martha Anderson, you remember Martha, don’t you? From my bridge club? Her son Joseph is a lawyer and we thought he would be perfect for you. He’ll be in New York on business next month.”
Not another blind date. No way! Her mother’s voice droned on extolling the virtues of Joseph, the ‘perfect man for her.’ Sydney let it fade into the background of her consciousness as her eyes drifted back to the image of the exclusive Caribbean resort on the screen across the room. It seemed like the perfect vacation destination and after four years without a break, Sydney was in desperate need of an escape. In fact, she was in desperate need of any kind of life outside of work.
At twenty-eight, Sydney had eaten, slept, and breathed Europa, her premier Madison Avenue boutique since it opened six years ago. She specialized in European fashions, featuring incomparable one-off creations by Chanel, von Furstenberg, and Dior to name a few. Her shop was popular, but the fashion elite were fickle and could turn on a dime. Ultimately, the success or failure of the entire business rested solely on her shoulders as the owner.
Sometimes she wondered if the stress of being her own boss was worth it. True, she had an investor group, but between the frantic phone calls the minute the quarterly financial reports came out, the text messages when one of them had a ‘truly fantastic idea,’ or the emails if another woke in the middle of the night with a brainstorm on how to run the business more efficiently, they mostly contributed bullshit and headaches. Of course, none of their ideas ever panned out and if she dared decline politely, well… a rude round of emails soon followed. She knew all of their crap came with the territory of being young and inexperienced. She’d worked tirelessly, sixteen, sometimes twenty-hour days, ostracized friends in lieu of work and gone without seeing her family on holidays. Because of these isolating practices, Sydney had proven she had what it takes when Europa moved into the black within six months of opening its doors. Every month since then the shop had met or exceeded sales projections and was enjoying ever widening profit margins. But enough was enough; it was time to think about something besides work.
“So what do you think?”
“Uh—” she stalled, searching for an answer having no idea what her mother was asking. “Martha Anderson’s son, you say?” Her leading question gave her mother encouragement as she proceeded to list more in-depth details about Joseph the demi-god. Emily Greene seemed convinced that this man was ‘the one’ who would finally sweep her daughter off her feet and provide Emily with grandchildren she had been pestering her about for years.
Moving back to the couch, Sydney’s thoughts were on a totally different wavelength than her mother. She wasn’t thinking of marriage and babies. Instead, her thoughts were filled with sun, fun, and the excitement of exploring a different side of herself with a sexy man with a tan.
As she curled up on the couch with her laptop, Sydney continued to give occasional non-committal and vague responses to her mother. Uh-huhs, you don’t says, and mm-hms came from her end of the phone as her mother yammered on. She clicked on the home screen for Pleasure Bay; where all your fantasies come true. The glitzy, well-put-together website was impressive and certainly looked legit. For the five-figure price tag, it had better be. The website boasted of a decadent tropical locale, with miles of sandy beaches and sparkling Caribbean waters, five-star accommodations, topnotch amenities including swimming pools and spas, gourmet dining with a world-renowned chef, outdoor lounges, a day spa, gym facilities, 24/7 security, and a fully stocked playroom—whatever that meant.
As she tabbed through the website and photo gallery, a tab entitled ‘The Dungeon’ caught her eye and she clicked on it. Evidently, the resort catered to the kinky. “For the BDSM-inclined, our doms/dommes and submissives are carefully vetted and bring years of lifestyle experience to your specially crafted personal fantasy and will meet your needs within an SSC construct.” Sydney blinked as she zoomed in on a picture of The Dungeon. As she looked at the highly polished wood bondage equipment, her heart rate kicked up a notch. Especially the one of the beautiful half-naked woman draped over a padded bench, while a gorgeous man in black leather pants spanked her bare ass with a leather paddle. Liquid heat raced to her core, sending a tingle of sensation to her poor neglected clit while drenching her panties. As goosebumps broke out on her skin, she quickly returned to the home page.
“So I’ll give him your number?”
Startled, she stiffened. “What? Whose number?” What had she agreed to?
Sighing heavily, her mother said with exaggerated patience, “Joseph Anderson. The man I’ve been telling you about for the past fifteen minutes. Really, Sydney, sometimes it’s like I’m talking to myself.”
“I don’t know, mom. I don’t think I can bear another blind date. I’m doing okay on my own.”
That wasn’t a lie. She had dated, a dinner here, a movie there, but nothing serious. Mostly because the men she selected just weren’t doing it for her. There was no spark, no racing heart or sweaty palms, and there sure weren’t any fireworks going off below the waist. She knew part of the problem was her limited dating pool. In the fashion industry, men—especially straight men—were a minority. Her friends and family seemed to know it too, because she’d been set up, arranged, and fixed up by them, unsuccessfully, more times than she cared to admit.
“You’re not one of those lesbians, are you? Not that I’m a homophobe or anything, but that’s not a path to grandchildren for me, so I need to know. I’ll need to start working on your brother, if that’s the case.”
Syd closed her eyes in exasperation. Lord, please shoot me now. Although she was tempted to lie and come out to her mom right there on the spot, just to get her off her back, she couldn’t do that to Michael. At twenty-four and fresh out of college, her baby brother shouldn’t have to deal with it yet. “Mother, as I’ve told you a hundred times before, just because I don’t have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian.”
“Good. Then there’s no reason I can’t give Joseph your number. He’ll be in town on the twenty-fifth of next month.”
“No, mom. I’ll be in Paris that week, remember?” Thank God she had a real excuse.
“Oh dear, did I say next month? I meant this month, honey. So there’s no problemo.” She laughed, and Sydney realized she’d been outmaneuvered by a master. Sighing, she opened her eyes and stared at the blue ocean water on the screen. Reaching out, she scrolled through the main photo gallery: a beach at sunrise, a couple hand in hand strolling through the surf, a gorgeous guest cottage with tons of lush tropical greenery providing privacy, a grotto with a couple standing naked in a thigh-deep pool of blue-green water while entwined in a passionate embrace. A cascade of water fell gently over the rocky wall in the background. The entire scene was sensual, romantic, and seriously hot.
As she felt a tingling between her thighs in response to the image, she realized she was aroused with wet panties while talking to her mother. Eww!
“Gotta go, mom. We’ll talk more soon.” She cut her poor mother off mid-sentence, which she’d hear about next time for sure, but as she stared transfixed at the image before her, she couldn’t focus her mind enough to care.
Her body was preoccupied with another part of her anatomy as something on the screen caught her eye. Leaning closer, she saw that she’d been wrong before. The woman was naked, but the man wore thin, light-colored swim trunks, and nothing more. The trunks were practically invisible as they molded to his hips and thighs, but that wasn’t the eye-catching part, not really. Tilting her head, her lips parted as her fingertips slid across the touchscreen, zooming in on the couple. At 150% magnification, Sydney saw that the man was the only one doing the embracing. His long whipcord arms revealed his strength as they wrapped around the woman’s lithe body.
Conversely, the woman curvy and lush. She arched backward with her full breasts pressed against his broad chest. Her arms angled sharply behind her; with her head thrown back, the long wet swath of her hair hung down, reaching toward the water. The position exposed her throat, leaving it vulnerable to his lips, which were pressed in a wide open-mouthed kiss against her glistening wet skin. She touched him intimately with her body, but not her hands, because she couldn’t. Her wrists were caught, held together in one of his large hands as he pinned them to the small of her back.
Sydney’s entire body tensed with arousal as her pussy clenched and flooded with desire. That—right there—was exactly what she wanted. A strong man, prepared to take control, to take what he wanted, how and when he wanted, leaving her no choice in the matter. That was more than a fantasy; it was a burning need deep inside her.
Leaning back on the couch, she closed her eyes and let her long-held fantasy take over. She imagined she was the woman in the photo. The man, no, her man was holding her pinned to his hard muscular chest, his free hand roughly gliding over her slick skin. Starting at her jaw, his fingers trailed down her throat, where they wrapped firmly but without pressure. As he exerted steely control, she knew he could squeeze and rob her of breath, but he didn’t. He just held her there, frozen for a brief moment, letting her realize his strength, his power, his sheer force of will. A feeling of vulnerability washed over her as surely as the water in the pool swirled around them. He moved on, his strong, capable hands gliding over her breasts, stopping to abrade her nipples with a rub, a graze, a roll, and a firm biting pinch. Once he made her breathless and had her begging for more, his hands moved on again. Down her belly and over her hips, around to the full globes of her bottom where he cupped a full cheek and squeezed, molding her pliant flesh.
Crude words that rarely passed her conservative lips slipped free as the unexpected cry defined her need and passion. The next instant she was lifted in his strong arms and towed to the water’s edge. Handling her easily, he pressed her face down, her cheek and belly lying flat against the smooth, table-shaped rock, her bottom pointing skyward, bare and on display. Then it happened. His open hand blazed down upon her. His broad palm connecting with the wet skin of her rounded cheeks as the sound echoed loudly throughout the private grotto.
“Let’s get one thing clear, baby.” His deep voice was sultry and sexy enough to make her come on the spot as he laid down his rules. “I am in charge. I own this body, this ass, and this pussy. You gave me that right.” His hands moved upon her as he spoke, fingers stroking slowly over her ass before slipping lower and plunging deep inside her needy pussy. “I decide when and how we fuck. I also decide if you come. Maybe, if you ask nicely, if you beg prettily with that tempting mouth, then and only then, I might just let you come. But that’s up to me—not you.”
His fingers left her pussy and travelled to the back of her head. Winding into her long wet hair, he pulled until her head arched and her breasts pulled off the rock. He bent over her and grazed his lips along the side of her neck, brushing softly over her jaw until his teeth found her ear and nipped sharply. His tongue came out, to lave and soothe before he whispered softly, “Do you get me?”
Another breathtaking series of spanks seared her cheeks.
“Nodding is not an answer, my little submissive. Do. You. Get. Me?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “I get you.” So intense was her arousal, her voice was little more than a shuddering exhalation of breath.
“That’s a good girl.” His hand guided her head to the side as he took her mouth. His tongue plunged inside as he devoured her, hungrily. Once he had robbed her of all sentient thought, he continued with her spanking.
More fire blazed along her vulnerable skin as he ignited her long-dormant core, swatting one undulating cheek after the other. She cried out, not from pain, but from pleasure and the realization that what she had dreamed of for so long, secretly in the recesses of her mind, was as good as she imagined. She was getting spanked and she liked it. She was being dominated and she absolutely loved it.
Her eyes flew open as she snapped back to reality. She zoned in on the screen and in her mind’s eye the woman changed to a voluptuous redheaded siren with green eyes. It was herself she now saw in the photo, or at least her fantasy self—hotter, more vibrant and colorful, more daring.
Flopping back against the cushions, she closed her eyes and groaned in frustration. Could she do something like this? Did she dare? The name of the exclusive island resort evoked images of all manner of tropical delights: gorgeous seascapes, warm tropical breezes, and cut male bodies with washboard abs walking in the surf in snug board shorts. The slogan conjured up images of other kinds of delights—sexual delights—including being naked and pressed against one of those cut male bodies without a scrap of the aforementioned snug material in sight.
Her body certainly wanted to experience Pleasure Bay and her intimate parts demanded attention, even if her mind was still leery. It had been a very long time since she’d been with a man. She couldn’t remember her last date, let alone the last time she’d had sex. And an orgasm, that illusive entity had never come easily for her. It was so rare in fact that she had never had one that wasn’t self-induced. Even that bit of indulgence had been few and far between since opening the boutique.
Her determined fingers flew over the keys. In an instant, the preliminary form was filled out and her payment option selected. All that was left was one single keystroke and Pleasure Bay would be within reach. The ache in her breasts and between her thighs compelled her to reach out. Her finger hovered for a moment over the key as she had a last moment of doubt. She vacillated between yes and no. Her eyes flicked to the banner, where all your fantasies come true.
Her mind took her back to the grotto and the gorgeous dominant man now surging into her from behind. His cock driving steadily, gloriously, relentlessly between her freshly spanked thighs. Her legs spread wider and she arched her back further, offering him more, yielding everything as he plunged into her fast and hard, driving her rapidly onward. Her body was helpless against his possession as he propelled her, sending her spiraling out of control into a clenching, writhing, mindlessly intense, freaking fantastic orgasm.
One hand slid into her panties searching for much-needed relief as no longer uncertain, her finger lowered decisively.
$12,000 be damned!
With a flash, the screen changed.
Please wait while your request is being processed.
She watched the spinning circle with bated breath. In a moment, a message appeared.
Thank you for choosing Pleasure Bay. You are now pre-registered. A preliminary information packet will arrive by overnight mail. Once we receive your application and medical clearance, our team of talented professionals will work diligently to make your fantasy into reality…
More instructions followed, but her eyes couldn’t process them. Her mind was reeling wildly and she couldn’t think beyond one thought.
Holy crap! What on earth had she done?
* * *
Shane Moore watched the FedEx driver get back into his truck before closing the door. He looked down at the thick white envelope in his hand. Ripping open the cardboard tab of the mailer, he pulled out a hefty, light blue, decorative envelope with Pleasure Bay embossed in fancy bold script across the front. Below, it read—preliminary information and welcome package.
He sat down on his couch, pulling the mass of papers from the packet and setting them all down next to him except for the colorful brochure. He opened the trifold pamphlet to find a collage of pictures and small captions featuring the resort’s amenities and accommodations. Most he’d already viewed on their website when making his reservation, so he set it aside and dug in further.
He picked up the welcome letter that began, Dear Mr. Moore, and explained the next step in the process.
All forms must be completed in their entirety and returned within five days. For your convenience, we have enclosed a prepaid overnight express envelope. Once your application is reviewed and accepted, confirmation and travel details will be sent to the email address provided during registration. If for any reason, our staff feels that your request cannot be accommodated, your deposit will be refunded in full.
He set the letter down and started sifting through the various forms. The medical clearance would need to be signed by his physician; he set that one aside and thumbed through the rest. A sheet labeled preferences caught his eye. He got up to grab a pen as he scanned the paper. Gender was first, easy enough, female—check. Hair color, black—check, second choice—blond. He easily ran down the list of other features. He knew what he liked in a woman. When he got to the listing of activities, Check All That Apply, he slowed and sat down: private dining, gym, massage, bondage: light, medium, or heavy, dungeon play, dom/domme, submissive. The list went on, but Shane’s eyes froze on one word—domme—and swept back to dungeon play.
He could see himself in nothing but a pair of ripped jeans, kneeling on a hard stone floor, with his hands tied behind his back. He watched high-heeled feet and long, slender legs as they approached slowly and stood close in front of him. Placing a well-manicured hand on his head, the woman spoke, her voice slightly deep, rich, and sultry. “Do you think you have what it takes to please a mistress like me, boy?”
Her hand gave his head a small shove as she backed up and started to walk around him, inspecting him, her soft hands exploring his body. She caressed and squeezed one of his well-toned biceps, humming in satisfaction. Leaning close, her breath brushed his ear in a deep whisper. “Sure looks like you have.”
Shane shook his head and started marking boxes: BDSM, domme, bondage. He hesitated for a moment over light, medium, or heavy. He didn’t have any real experience—better go with light. He took a moment to think about what it would be like to be tied up at the mercy of his beautiful partner. She would tease him until he strained at his restraints, begging for release. Suddenly, he imagined having her tied up in return, watching her body squirm as he controlled her pleasure. It would be so hot to turn the tables after she untied him, but would she permit such a thing?
Refocusing on the task at hand, he put a check in the box next to massage and set the pen down; he needed to make an adjustment in his jeans.
The preference sheet completed, he sorted through the rest of the papers, finding a form titled SSC-Insurance form, in bold red letters. Paper-clipped to the edge of the form was a yellow note that read ‘Please read carefully.’ Puzzled, Shane started reading.
To ensure the Safe, Sane and Consensual environment of Pleasure Bay, we ask that you read and sign this document. Absence of a signature on this document will be deemed an immediate cancellation of your reservation and forfeiture of the $200 reservation fee. Please retain copy C of this form for your records.
In the practice of BDSM, it is important that our guests understand and respect the different levels and sometimes graphic nature of BDSM play. Those seasoned in the lifestyle as well as those of you who are just starting to explore…
By the time Shane finished reading about how involved some BDSM activities could get and why it was important to have planned sessions and safewords, it was enough to make his head spin. All he wanted was to fulfill his desire to be controlled by a beautiful, sexy, and dominant woman… just once! There were three boxes just above the signature line: beginner, some experience, advanced/lifestyle. Having been warned in the previous paragraphs why it was important to be honest, he marked beginner and scrawled out his signature on the line below.
There were two more papers to fill out and his packet would be complete with the exception of seeing his physician. First, a confidentiality agreement, basically stating that what happens on Pleasure Bay, stays on Pleasure Bay. Second, a few pages for him to fill out better describing his fantasy, so they could tailor his scene to meet his needs and find him a partner who was a good fit.
Describe your fantasy partner(s). What are you and your partner(s) wearing? What type of scene do you imagine: dark and intense, light and playful, something in between? Do you use implements, toys, or equipment? Are you interested in role-play? What are you doing? What is being done to you?
The image of his dream woman was foremost in his mind as he began to write. It was always her when he thought of submitting to a woman. Her long black hair swept back neatly in a tight French twist. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the faint smell of her black, shiny, skintight vinyl corset and matching panties.
He could hear the ‘click’ of her black stilettos as she walked toward him; the fiery red of her toenails and the long line of her sleek legs had him hard in an instant. The flare of her hips, her tight trim waist, and bountiful breasts almost robbed him of breath. The dark jewels of her eyes landed on him, pausing to observe his well-sculpted male physique from head to toe with her hungry eyes. Her high-glossed red lips spread slowly into a seductive smile as their eyes met.
Taking one planned and determined step at a time—swaying her lush ass and hips provocatively—she crossed the distance between them. As if sensing he was about to say something, she put a finger to her lips while shaking her head slowly, and then transferred that same finger to his lips once she was close enough to stand face-to-face. “Quiet,” she whispered. Her slender hands smoothed over his chest, his shoulders, and down his back as she walked around him, looking him over. His stomach tightened, as did the fit of his jeans.
His eyes were fixated on her red nails, vibrant against the blue denim as she skillfully popped the button and worked open his pants. He wore nothing but his tight jeans. She didn’t let on if this surprised her as her warm fingers weaved between denim and skin, peeling his jeans from his hips. He felt his jaw clench when she took hold of his erection, softly caressing the taut velvety skin of his shaft. A scorching jolt ran down his back as she teased the swollen head of his cock. Finding a bead of moisture, she collected it, carrying it to her parted lips. He groaned.
“Do you want to come?” she asked.
“Yes, mistress,” he whispered.
“Fine, but you will have to earn your reward, first.” Although soft-spoken, her voice was dripping with authority—God, how it made him ache. “On your knees, boy.” She pointed to her feet and he instantly obeyed, looking up at her with eager, willing eyes. He felt her smooth hands slipping into his short sandy brown hair. Her grip tightening as she guided his face to the source of her pleasure, the smell of her arousal mixing with vinyl as she rubbed her pussy gently against his nose, driving his need to please her even higher. “Think you can make me come, boy?”
“Oh yes, mistress. Please… let me worship your pussy,” he breathed.
She took a couple of steps back and he moaned at the loss of her nearness. Biting his lip, he watched her ease down her sleek black panties, revealing the smooth shaven lips of her pussy. His eyes hungrily fixated on her satiny skin, licking his lips in anticipation. After she stepped out of her panties, his eyes were drawn to the wet circle that marked her arousal.
“Taste,” she ordered, scooting the discarded garment before him with the tip of her shoe. Eagerly he bent to the task, lapping at her mouthwatering essence while looking up into her eyes.
She seated herself in a comfortable chair, spreading her legs wide as she motioned him to her with the crook of her finger. He crawled to her, watching her stroke her smooth pussy. “Look, but don’t touch,” she said, parting her lips. The sight of her swollen, pink clit, glistening with moisture, caused his cock to throb. His heart nearly stopped when she stroked through her wetness encircling her clit. “Lick. Slowly.” Her rich voice now husky with need.
His heart hammered hard in his chest as he licked his lips, his face inching toward the center of her arousal. With the tip of his tongue, he made one slow and determined lick, looking up into her eyes for approval.
“Yes, like that,” she breathed, moving her hands to the side of his head, pulling his face closer to her beautiful pussy.
His tongue found every crease and nerve ending, making her squirm in her seat. Her breathing became labored as his tongue dipped lower, gathering her wetness. The smell of her arousal had him near to exploding as his tongue worked tirelessly, making her moan. Her fingers curled into his hair, her grip tightening.
“Faster,” she cried.
Her milky thighs trembled against his cheeks as he pushed her higher. He felt her pussy clench as he reached deeply into her with his tongue. The need to make this woman come apart drove him mad as he sucked, licked, and nibbled. Her clit throbbed wildly as he pulled it between his lips, flicking his tongue over it rapidly, making her moan.
Her legs encircled his shoulders, pulling him in more as her hips began bucking softly against him. He could barely breathe as she smothered his face, her pussy undulating beneath his lips until her body went rigid and her raspy breathing became a shrill cry of passion. Her nails pressed into his scalp as she bucked fitfully during her powerful orgasm.
The image of her coming undone sent Shane over the edge. A deep growl filled his ears as his hot seed erupted forcefully, surging repeatedly against his belly. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the mess. When had his hand reached into his pants? Relaxing back against the couch, he let his body recover from the immense orgasm.
Looking at the array of papers scattered around him, he smiled. Eighteen thousand might seem a tad steep, but if just thinking about his fantasy woman could make him spend that hard, he could only imagine what it would be like for real at Pleasure Bay.
* * *
“Hello?” Jen answered, pulling the towel from her head, the long wet strands of her copper locks falling against her back.
“Is this Ms. Reed? Ms. Jennifer Reed?” the man asked.
“Speaking,” she said spryly.
“Dimitri De Luca, calling from Pleasure Bay. Our staff has been looking over your application. Regrettably, we do not normally allow the type of fantasy you have requested. We are happy to work with you on your second choice, but you failed to answer.”
Before Dimitri could say more, Jennifer interrupted. “I don’t have a second choice. If I can’t have the fantasy I requested, please disregard my application. I’m sorry to have wasted your time. Have a good day, Mr. De—”
“Please don’t hang up, Ms. Reed. As I said, we don’t normally allow this type of fantasy. I’m sure you can understand our concerns. We have done so in the past for regular clients, but never a first timer. If we were to make an exception, we would need you to complete some additional legal documentation. A full disclaimer that states your unequivocal consent and a release of liability for both the resort as well as the partner we have arranged for you.”
Jennifer felt a stirring in her belly when the man told her they had found her a partner. Could it be that her topmost secret fantasy might actually come true for her after all? She had inquired at a few BDSM clubs and applied to a couple of other fantasy-based resorts, but until now, all of them had flat out rejected her request for the same reason Dimitri had stated. She realized it was risky, but that’s the kind of girl Jennifer was, overly passionate about everything in her life—her job, her friends, her car, and especially her sex life.
“I’ll sign anything you need me to, sir,” she said excitedly, doing a happy dance right there in her kitchen, almost losing her towel in the process. “I can’t believe it. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me just yet, Ms. Reed. In addition to the disclaimer, we need to go over a few things before we can give you an actual decision. Your application and fantasy summary are quite extensive, and I must say, we really appreciate that. However, unless we can reach a compromise on some of the details of your fantasy, I’m afraid we won’t be able to accommodate your request.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” she whined. “I was so happy just a second ago.”
“We understand that you want everything to be as real to life as we can make it, but we insist that you have a safeword before arriving. And that you allow us to assign a member of our security team to keep an eye on you at all times.”
“What?” she asked, shocked. “I don’t want some security dude watching me while I’m… um, getting busy.”
“He won’t be watching you in the act, Ms. Reed. He will be assigned outside of your room to make sure we can act promptly if anything should arise. Allow me to continue with our contingencies. You will not be permitted to request or use any gags while you are here. Due to the nature of your request, we don’t feel comfortable inhibiting the use of your safeword. Lastly, both you and your partner will be required to visit the main house at least once a day to check in with me.”
“Check in for what? Isn’t the security guard enough?” Jennifer’s hopes began to dwindle. She wasn’t about to fork over 25K for a fantasy and not be allowed to have it the way she wanted.
“Because sometimes appearances alone do not tell us that you are indeed safe and secure, Ms. Reed. The type of fantasy you are requesting can have consequences that we are not sure you are fully aware of. We will need to monitor your psychological well-being as well as your physical state. If you agree to these stipulations, we will take care of the additional paperwork upon your arrival. We will also require that you meet with our psychologist for evaluation before final approval. If she doesn’t feel you are fit to handle the fantasy, your deposit will be fully refunded, and you can enjoy one of our complimentary guest huts until your departure on Sunday.”
Jennifer chewed at the inside of her lower lip. She wanted her fantasy to come true, but she wanted it to be uninhibited. She didn’t mind the safeword, or the restriction on the use of gags, or even the preliminary psych test, but having to report once a day would kill the realism that she was looking to experience.
“Sorry, I was just thinking that having to report for a mini mental-health check every day was going to detract from the enjoyment of my fantasy.”
“I can assure that you will enjoy your fantasy. Like our website promises, satisfaction guaranteed. So what do you say, yes or no, Ms. Reed?”
This was probably the closest she was ever going to get to safely fulfilling her most secret sought-after desires. She wasn’t going to let a few rules ruin it completely for her, was she?
“Yes!” she said resolutely. “I’ll agree to your contingencies.” Her belly clenched again with renewed hope and anticipation.
“Very good, you can expect your confirmation email in a couple of days. We look forward to seeing you this weekend.”
“As do I, sir. Have a good day.”
Jennifer slapped the cordless phone into the charger and happy-danced her way back to the bathroom. Finally, she was going to get her abduction fantasy. How would they arrange it, she wondered, applying her makeup and doing her best with her stubborn hair. Surely, they wouldn’t introduce him to her. That would kill the best part.
Would they send her to the grotto spa for a private massage and maybe while the man was rubbing her down, he’d tie her hands behind her back and tell her that he wasn’t going to let her go until she agreed to please him—every way he liked. Naturally, she wouldn’t agree, at least not at first. She would call his bluff and offer to report him if he forced himself on her.
“Why would I force you? You’ll be begging for my cock before I’m through,” he’d say as he tied her dainty ankles to the corners of the table.
She would be at his mercy, bound to the table while he rubbed her legs down with oil. Moving his skillful hands purposely between her thighs, kneading and squeezing as he inched his way up, he’d pause at the lower curve of her buttocks. Would he pry open her ass cheeks and peer into the furrow? Maybe he’d run a finger slowly across her sensitive hole, causing her to shudder and clench.
Without a word, he would oil up a finger, work it into her rear as he listened to her moans and enjoyed how she wiggled her hips. “You like that, don’t you?” he would whisper next to her ear.
She would nod her head and feel his finger withdraw, followed seconds later by his large flat hand crashing down upon one of her bottom cheeks. “Answer me, girl.”
Jennifer’s pussy clenched at the thought of the sexy man dominating her, manipulating her body, and teasing her to the point she’d forget her own name.
It had been so long since she’d lost control… really lost control. She longed for the kind of weekends she used to have with Richard. More than once, she had called in on a Monday, too sore and spent to do anything more than sleep. Richard wasn’t afraid to tickle her dark side, when it suited him, of course. He enjoyed pushing her to the edge of her limits and then skillfully coaxing her past them. Some might call her a bit of a freak for allowing some of the things she’d done with Richard, but the truth was she missed him. She longed for the carnal lust, the rough and sometimes raunchy sex, and the way he was able to make her come at his command.
She knew that Pleasure Bay wouldn’t be able to find a man like Richard; she didn’t really expect them to. But they could provide her with a long-awaited fantasy and put some spice back into her sex life.
The low chimes of her grandfather clock alerted her that it was time to get to work. It was going to be hard to keep her mind on her job this week while thoughts of how she might be grabbed, lured, or captured kept popping into her head.