Why do I not have a bag? Adella asked.
Because I have everything you need in mine. You have your passport and your boarding pass. That’s all you need.
I huffed, but was secretly pleased. Jeremiah had promised/threatened to take me on a last minute vacation for years but I never thought he’d do it. Yet, here I was, sitting in first class, flying to somewhere on the Yucatan Coast. I sipped a glass of champione and peppered him with questions until he threatened to turn me over his lap and spank me right there on the plane. He said this LOUDLY and several other people all encouraged him. Even the flight attendant laughed. I clamped my mouth shut and said never another word.
The plane landed at a private field where we were ushered into a waiting limousine. I was offered another glass of champione which I happily accepted. When we pulled up to the resort, Jeremiah looked and me and said, “I need to strip out of your clothes now.”
I gaped. Spun my head to see thename of the resort. Desnuda and I also noticed several other people completely nude in varying degrees of humiliation. I looked back at J who had crossed his arms. Quickly, I shimmied out of the dress and gave it to him. He shoved it into his bag and handed me a pair of beautiful glass slippers.
THAT, my dear, is all you will be wearing for the next week. This is a clothing optional lifestyle friendly resort, so don’t be too ashamed. Nonetheless, clothing, aside from those shoes, is not an option for you.
I gulped, finally understanding what was happening. Everyone on the private jet had been coming to this same place. Sure enough, as J was checking us in, I saw one woman bent over an over stuffed chair and belt spanked. She then, eyes red and puffy, stood, stripped, and watched as her dominant shoved her clothes into a trash can.
I looked up at Jeremiah and grinned. This would be an incredible journey.
The resort would put a five star hotel to shame. Everything was exhaust. Even the walkways which were trod primarily by naked feet were swept twice a day and blanketed in flower petals. Because of the “no butt juice on furniture” rule, those of us who were either by choice or by rule nude, wore a headscarf or wait scarf of some type so that it could be used as a barrier between our bottoms and the delightfully expensive furniture. Sometimes, J simply insisted that I either knee or sit on the ground, floor, or sand depending upon our location.
As with many resorts, there were games. Each morning, it was “Whose hand Is It?” The “bottom” would bend over on the low fence surrounding one of the pools. Then, the “Hand” would have one opportunity to wallop the bottom in order to leave a distinctive hand print. Naturally, it was encouraged that couples mingle. A judge was chosen – sometimes several – and then had to match the handprint with the bottom. The winning Hand was awarded a specially tooled leather paddle which, hopefully, couldbe shared with said bottom.
This morning, my “hand” was correctly chosen. The force of the blow immediately elicited tears, a squeak, and a gush of wetness. The lady – yes lady Hand – ordered another bottle of champion for me as a reward.
Jeremiah was thrilled, not only with the bottle, but also with my humiliation at the hand of another woman. He came to me, still bent over the rail, and said, “Worship.”
I’d have happily accepted 12 more stings as bad or worse than the one that now graced my ass for this. To be able to worship his cock in front of an appreciated crowd – Yes, Please! By the time he thrust himself deeply down my throat and awarded me the only breakfast I ever truly desired, I had come three times just from the pleasure of sucking on him.
Applause ensured, along with catcalls of “Don’t leave her hanging” and “Need a hand with taking care of her?”
To my shock, he answered, “Yes, actually. She’s drained me. You, slip on a condom and take care of her. It would be ungentlemanly of me not to see to her needs.”
Then he murmured, “Even though she’s obviously enjoyed herself.”
I looked up at him, questioningly. It had been a very long time since he had shared me. He smiled and nodded. That was all the encouragement I needed. My cheats were parted and a large glob of cold lube was pressed into my ass. THIS I had not expected.
Jeremiah leaned down and whispered, “Your pussy and your ass are mine. I WILL use them or see them used as I please. Watching another man with a cock larger than even mine use that incredible ass will give me much pleasure. Now, be good, or I’ll ask Mistress Kay to apply her newly won paddle.”
I whispered, “Yes, J.” I couldn’t imagine what THAT punishment would feel like!
Immediately, a cock three times Jeremiah’s slammed into my back door. I screamed, more from shock than pain, and pressed my hands firmly against the ground. To my shame and J’s pride, I came immediately, quivering and trembling and moaning. My thighs were coated by a fresh coat of honey. Over and over again the man slammed into me, Jeremiah encouraging both him and me at the same time.
By the time the man finished, I was liquid, unable to stand on my own. Jeremiah came around behind me and gathered me onto his lap. I thanked him, kissed his neck, then slid down to lie with my head in his lap.
Well, what else is a girl to do with her favorite cock right at mouth level? To a round of applause, J once again achieve an impressive state. I wasted no time in climbing on top of him. As soon as his cock touched my well primed tunnel, I again screamed out my pleasure. He slapped my ass as I rode him. Exhaustion set in, but still he whipped my well tended bottom until he too joined me in waves of pleasure.
We lay beside each other on a pool bed until a waiter appeared above us. “Pardon me, but the couple on the other side of pool sent this over for you along with their appreciation.”
I looked at the tray and burst out laughing. Two bottles of water, two champione flutes, and a plate of fruit, cheese, honey, and crackers. We toasted them, and decided that there was no better way to begin a morning.
Leave a Reply