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Renata's Vacation

By: Calandria



Benidorm with my parents! God, hard to imagine a worse idea for two weeks, I thought, as I casually regarded my 5'6" in the mirror of the hotel bedroom, giving a little twirl. My Italian father's ancestry showed in the long jet-black hair and big dark eyes, whilst my mother's high Scottish cheekbones and slim figure combined with my long slim 27 year-old legs too turn heads most places. Smallish breasts still firm I thought, as I nestled my hands under them, then teased the long nipples to erection, something that came easily to me. Sighing, I slipped on a pair of black lace panties and wriggled into a green jersey minidress before brushing my hair to a lustrous shine. I had little interest in going to the hotel's very own disco that evening, but what else was there to do, stuck out here, 4 kilometres out of town, on a Wednesday night?

My parents had wanted to get me away from work and a failed relationship, whilst taking a much-needed break themselves, and they seemed happy to go out to dinner at a nearby bistro, so, after conferring, I wandered down to the disco, which was already in full swing, and sat down at the bar, ordering a gin and tonic. Before long, I sensed, rather than saw, a pair of eyes boring into me, and looking up, was met with the intense gaze of the handsomest man I ever saw. He looked at me with brown eyes from under heavy brows over a strong, weathered face. When he stood and walked slowly over to me, I thought I would faint. 

'I am Sergio,' he said, 'And you are very beautiful. I do not like dancing, but I wish to know you.' His English, though accented, was perfect. I knew, of course, all about girls who fell for Spanish waiters – holiday romances, all the pitfalls – knew I should have turned the other cheek, but I was instantly under his spell. Here, I somehow knew, was a man who would dominate me, give me what I really desired, what my whole body yearned for. We talked, and drank, for a time, and he asked me many questions; about my life, my holidays here, everything. I was more frank than I had been with anybody for a long time, even revealing some of my hitherto secret thoughts. The evening passed like lightning. Then, with terrible suddenness, at around one o'clock, he stood up, and said, 'I must go. In the morning, a delivery will come for you. It will contain instructions. If you chose to ignore them, we shall not meet again. Otherwise, we meet tomorrow, Pet.'

I went to bed, wondering about his choice of name for me – 'Pet?' Nobody had ever called me that before. That night I masturbated to a delicious orgasm before falling asleep.

Next morning, after breakfast, a knock on my room door announced the promised arrival of the package I had hardly dared wait for. It was a long box. When I opened it, I was confronted with tissue paper, on top of which was an envelope, which I opened straight away.

The message read:-

Dear Renata,

Go and tell your parents you are going away for a week. Make any excuse you like. Prepare yourself by shaving your whole body thoroughly, and put on what is in the box. Nothing else. You need to bring nothing more. You will await me in reception at 12 noon. If you are not prepared to do as I wish, do not come

Sergio

I opened the tissue wrap and found a single red rose, with some clothes beneath another layer of tissue. With trembling hands I took them out and laid them on the bed.

They consisted of a long white thin silk gown, almost like a nightdress, with spaghetti straps, a white garter belt and white lace-top stockings. Beneath them were a pair of white stiletto heeled sandals, impossibly high, and a gold waist-chain. Wondering how on earth I was going to have the courage to wear these clothes 'and nothing else' I went to my parents' room and told them I had been asked to visit a university friend who was staying in Valencia. They seemed almost relieved.

I had a long hot bath, then shaved every vestige of hair from my pussy – something I had done two or three times before anyway – revelling in the feeling of smoothness as I ran my hands down over my bare lips. I oiled my body and painted my nails with care, then brushed out my hair until it shone. Then I eased on the stocking and garter belt and let the thin silk gown whisper down over my body. How had he known my size to such perfection? My nipples stood out under the silky fabric, and, as I stepped into the shoes, I wondered whether the gold chain was to be worn over or under the dress. Finally plumping for the latter, I pulled up the hem and fastened the clasp of the chain so that it hung prettily over the garter-belt. All ready, I looked critically in the mirror, and hoped I should not have to wait long in reception. I thought I might well attract a bit of attention dressed like this at midday! 

I waited until as close to twelve as I dared before going down to reception, then felt very naked going with nothing but a tiny handbag. When the lift stopped and the doors opened, Sergio was waiting, his brown eyes surveying me coolly. He was dressed in chinos with a cream casual shirt. He looked gorgeous. 

Looking me up and down, he said, 'Come, my car is just outside. You look wonderful. But I told you not to bring anything.' He flicked his fingers at my bag. 'That will have its consequences, I fear.'

His words filled me with dread, but also with an excitement I couldn't have described, as I sat in the back of the Mercedes. Sergio got in beside me, and tapped the driver, an older man, on the shoulder. We drove out on to the motorway in silence, and before long Sergio produced a strip of black silk, which he proceeded to wrap around my head as a blindfold. When I began to protest, he silenced me with a finger to my lips, and caressed my knees through the silk of my gown. It was as close as he had come to intimacy, and I somehow knew better than to complain.

After what seemed like about half an hour, we slowed and turned into what seemed like a driveway, and stopped. Sergio whipped off my blindfold, and I found myself looking at the portal of a large house. He got out and opened the door for me, then took my arm as we walked up the four steps and on to the wide entrance terrace. As we did so a stunningly beautiful blue-eyed blonde in a long sky-blue dress opened the door to let us in. The dress she wore was haltered and backless, right down to the crack between her buttocks, but was so tight around her ankles that she could only take tiny steps, the more so as she wore heels even higher than my own.

Sergio led me to a large dining room, and sat on an armchair, but left me standing. He motioned to my handbag. 'Put that thing down,' he said contemptuously, ' And take off your dress.'

I was not expecting such a sudden move on his part, and couldn't believe I was doing it as I slipped the little straps off my shoulders and let the soft silk slide gently down over my taut breasts, then with a little helping push, over my hips, and whisper down to the floor. My shaven pussy was there, vulnerably displayed to someone who was, after all, a complete stranger.

'Come here,' he said, 'And lay across my lap.' I hesitated.

He reached out and pulled me down until my arse was in the air and I could feel the start of what I was sure was an erection growing under my stomach. 

'This is your first taste of punishment, for disobedience,' he said. 'It will be very light, for a start.' With that, he drew a hand back and whacked me hard across my arse cheek. The pain was instant, but warming, and quite bearable. I loved it, and wanted more, my core moistening with every stroke. He gave me ten smacks, each harder than the one before, and then said, 'Your arse is more beautiful now, I think.' He was breathing more heavily, and, pulling me up to him, he kissed me deeply for the first time, our tongues intertwining. As he did this, he sought my nipples and tweaked them painfully, making me cry out sharply as I broke the kiss.

'Later, you will be punished for crying out,' he said, 'But not today. You have much to learn, my Pet.'

He pushed me, none too tenderly, down on to the floor, where I knelt at his feet. 'Unzip me,' he ordered, and when I made to reach for his zip, he swatted my hand away, and, as if by magic, produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, with which he deftly manacled my wrists behind my back. 

'With your teeth,' he said, and I complied, soon releasing his glorious erect cock from its confinement. I took his full length deep within my mouth, sucking hard along his whole rampant length as he moaned in ecstasy. I soon felt the surge as he came in great creamy spurts, and I swallowed his cum greedily, as if it were my first meal in days.

'That was wonderful, my Pet,' he said, when I had licked him completely clean, 'Now get dressed and lunch will be ready.' With that he took off the handcuffs and allowed me to wriggle into the silk gown once more.

We sat down to a simple meal, while Sergio told me a little about where we were. It was, he said, a 'sort of club' with no name, where people of a certain social standing came, either singly or with their partners, for hedonistic pleasure. To assist, they kept specially trained staff, and also used some 'volunteers,' because the clients liked their freshness. This was where he hoped I would fit in. But he hoped I didn't think his interest in me was purely professional. When he said this, his hand was on mine, and his liquid eyes held mine. I melted, and felt my shaven pussy getting wetter than ever. I worried I was staining the lovely dress.

After we had eaten, he led me to what was to be my room, and invited me to rest. 'I'll be back for you in two hours,' he said, 'You'll find all the clothes and things you need in the cupboards and drawers, so just put on something for the afternoon.' He turned and left without a further word.

I was quite exhausted, mentally and physically, so it was very restful to lay down on the silk sheets, and I drifted off dreamlessly for what must have been an hour, still wearing the long silk gown. When I awoke, I explored the wardrobes and gasped as I saw the array of clothes. There were evening dresses, nearly all transparent or revealing in some way, and a good many other clothes, from which I selected a black chiffon minidress with a flared skirt, which would reach to my mid-thigh. I looked through the drawers and found no panties at all. I decided to go without stockings altogether as the day was warm. The only bras I discovered were of the platform type, which would show my nipples off clearly through the delicate chiffon of the dress's bodice. I thought I would leave the gold chain on. For shoes, I simply changed the white ones for black, with much the same tottering heels, and completed the ensemble with a pair of gold hoop ear-rings. 

No sooner had I finished dressing than Sergio knocked discreetly at my door. 

'Come in' I said, and he looked around the door. 'You look very lovely, ' he said, 'And I hope you are ready to begin training?' Before I had time to consider a reply, he took my hand, and led me out and down a corridor, and we entered a sort of snack-bar, where we took a seat, and a pretty blonde served us coffee, whilst we chatted about nothing in particular. Then Sergio rose, took my hand again and led me into a large room, where two girls waited on a couch. Both wore black leather corsets and high heels, and nothing else. They were both slim, attractive and dark-haired. 

'I told you about training. This is where it starts. Undress.' 

I looked at him uncertainly, then saw he was not taking 'no' for an answer, and slipped the dress over my head, unbuckled the bra, and I was naked in the middle of the floor, wearing only my shoes and the gold chain, which Sergio unclipped as well, letting it fall to the floor.

Both girls now stood, and one of them took a corset, like the ones they wore, from a shelf, and offered it up to my waist, while the other buttoned it up in front. Then the first one started lacing it up tightly in the back. It hurt terribly, as my waist was constricted and reduced.. When Sergio pronounced himself satisfied, he took two nipple clamps from the same shelf, and placed them on my sensitive nipples, tightening them down hard. I screamed, but, as I did so, he ran a finger down into my slit, and felt how wet I had now become. I was soaking. 'You want me to fuck you,' he said. It was not a question.

'Oh yes,' I said. With that, he took one of the other girls, and threw her down across the couch, where she lay, legs wide open. He opened his zip and plunged his cock right into her, right in front of me. I could hardly bear it. As he speared her, he signalled to the other one, who took me by the arm, and pushed me down over the arm of the couch, at the opposite end to where Sergio was fucking the first girl. She pushed my legs apart, and I suddenly felt my anus being invaded. Unable to see what was happening, I could only guess that she was lubricating my arsehole. Then the pain became almost unbearable as an object was rammed into my anal sphincter, which had never before been violated. I was sobbing with the pain, shame and............and desire. I wanted to be fucked. By a real cock. But Sergio was finishing with the girl, who I learned was called Sylvia, from his shouts, and no satisfaction, only pain and agony were to be mine.

When they had done, he pulled me upright, removed the awful nipple-clamps, and said, 'You look marvellous, Pet, and you did very well. Get dressed now, but leave the corset on, and the butt-plug in place until dinner time, when we shall meet again. Maria will take you to your room now. I shall come for you at eight. Dress for dinner.'

I had two hours to rest and accustom myself to the constriction of the corset, which was by now almost comforting, and get used to the invasion of the terrible butt-plug. 

I chose a long jade-green silk dress (I love the feel of silk against my hardened nipples and flowing over the smooth skin of my shaven pubic area), slit right to the very tops of my thighs. I found thigh-high black stockings and stuck with the black heels. Looking at myself in the mirror, my nipples stood out as the corset thrust my breasts out. I brushed my hair carefully and thought I had never looked sexier. Sergio looked impressed when he called for me, and we dined together, with another couple, whom he introduced as José and Lara. José was about the same age as Sergio, but built like a rugby player, with a muscular body and a once-broken nose, and Lara was probably Eastern European, blonde, with green eyes, a lissome body and luscious lips. She wore a yellow leather minidress, and had an obviously pierced tongue, which she kept shooting out as she talked.

After dinner, Sergio and José went to the bar, and left we girls talking for a moment. I felt her knees against mine as we chatted in what was clearly a deliberate move, and she equally deliberately opened her lovely lips just enough to let her tongue and its stud emerge, in a very erotic signal. I was fascinated, and didn't resist when she covered my hand with hers. 

'You girls go down to the lower room,' called Sergio from the bar, 'Lara knows the way. We'll join you in a while.' I knew it had all been planned.

Lara immediately got up and led me out and down a short carpeted stairway, through a heavy oak door, and into a room lit by candles, with couches around three walls. A feature of the room, however, was the presence of three big wooden crosses against the other wall, each with heavy iron rings depending from their extremities. There was also a big cupboard by the side of them.

'Welcome to the torture chamber,' said Lara, laughing slightly. I shivered, and she patted my arm. 'Nobody really gets hurt.' She said, 'Don't worry.' 

She turned to me, a new light in her eyes, and put her hands on my shoulders, then stroked my hair and pulled me into an infinitely gentle embrace. I melted into her arms, and found myself kissing her – the first time I had kissed another woman passionately in my life. Her tongue-stud grazed my own tongue in an erotic sensation I would never have believed, as her hands busied themselves with the zipper at my neck. In a cascade of soft silk, my dress was soon in a pool at my feet, and Lara switched her attention to my erect nipples, teasing them to taut hardness. Moving downwards, she unbuttoned the corset, and I felt blessed relief as my body was released from its tightness. Forcing me gently down on to a couch, she herself went down on her knees in front of me, and, rolling down my stockings, parted my legs to gain access to my now dripping slit.

'You have a wonderful cunt,' she gasped, and plunged her tongue deeply right into my vagina, the silver stud rasping against the walls. At the same time, she pushed hard at my butt-plug, forcing it deeper into its tight home. I felt an instant orgasm welling up on me, and she had only to flick my clit a couple of times with that snaking tongue to bring me to a tumultuous, screaming climax.

'You needed that,' she calmly remarked, when I came down.

'I never thought a woman could do that to me,' I said, honestly, and kissed her again, wondering if she wanted me to return the favour. She read my mind, and pushed me lightly away.

'Look, I am supposed to prepare you, before the men arrive. If they know you have orgasmed, we will both be punished, and much harder.' With that, she got up and left me, naked but for my shoes. She went to the cupboard, and returned immediately with a tray, on which were a variety of objects. She selected four padded leather cuffs, each with a metal ring set into them, and encircled my slim wrists and ankles with them, clicking them firmly but comfortably in place. Then she showed me the truly terrible instruments of pain that were on the tray. There was a flogger, a sort of cat o'nine tails, with braided leather thongs, a riding crop, a thin cane with a leather grip and a leather paddle like a table-tennis bat. 

'I think they will let you choose, at least the first time,' she said, with a hint of a smile.

I must have looked terrified, because she stroked my hair and said, 'I know you'll come to love it, and ask for more – I do – you'll see, it's quite wonderful.'

I had no time to ponder her comments before the door opened, and in walked the two men, this time followed by a younger, blond guy in a leather jacket and trousers. Sergio introduced the newcomer as Toni. 

After a whispered word with Lara, he came and held out his hand to me. I obediently went with him, and allowed myself to be led to one of the huge wooden crosses set against the wall. 

'Raise your hands high,' he commanded, and when I did so, he clipped the rings on my wrists to the ones on the cross, so that I faced the wall. Then he told me to spread my legs and fastened my ankles firmly as well. I looked around to see what was happening, and he brought the tray to me. Over my shoulder I looked at the fearsome instruments, and suddenly knew that I wanted to feel the kiss of the whip, more than anything in the world. Anything, that is, except Sergio's lovely cock inside my sopping cunt. 

'The crop,' I heard myself saying, as if in someone else's voice. Was this really me? Renata, who was on holiday in Benidorm with her parents a couple of days ago? 

'You will count down from ten,' said Sergio, simply, and I heard him putting down the tray and stepping up behind me.

Then there was a 'whoosh' and I felt a sharp, stinging pain on my lower back. I writhed against my bonds, and almost forgot to yell, 'Ten.' It was agony.

Then 'whoosh' again and a bit lower down another, sharper still, and I could sense that my skin was being marked, but the pain was matched by a desire in my very core that set my juices running so that I felt they were oozing down my leg. With each new stroke, he ran a hand over my buttocks, giving a push to my embedded butt-plug, then paused when I had shouted, 'Five!' 


Renata's Vacation Ch. 02



I had lost count of the days I had been at the club, but I knew that my life was changed – and for good. My humdrum existence back in the UK was a thing of the past, and I had decided that, come what may, I was going to stay here, or at least try to. Question was, with whom did I need to speak? Doña Francisca, or Sergio? It was Sergio who had first brought me here, but Doña Francisca appeared to wield mighty authority here, and might well be the owner of the club, for all I knew – all was shrouded in mystery, and when I asked Lara, she simply shrugged, and said she had no idea. She had been there only a day or two longer than I, anyway, and was all set to return from whence she had come. She was from Romania, and José wanted her to help him recruit other girls there – I didn't much like the sound of that, and told her so, but she shrugged again, and said she had no option – question of visas, she said.

I resolved to ask Sergio when next I saw him, but, meantime, I was left to my own devices for the morning. I took a long, hot bath, and pampered myself thoroughly with all the many oils and fragrances I could find, taking care to soothe the welts left over from my recent whippings. As I fingered them, and ran my hands around the stripes, looking at my image in the mirrors surrounding my bathroom, I found myself getting aroused again, and my hand strayed to my already erect clitoris, and I let my fingers play between it and my warm and puffy labia.

My other hand found its way to my hardening nipples, still feeling the soreness from the cruel clamps I had worn yesterday, the memory of which aroused me still more. I sighed and, making a big effort, got out of the bath, and towelled myself dry, then blow-dried my long black hair, and brushed it until it shone.

I went to the wardrobe and took my time rustling through the clothes, many of which I hadn't yet tried. For lunchtime, I settled finally on a white satin whale-boned corset, which I laced as tightly as I was able, gasping at the constriction of my waist. I looked at my image in the full-length mirror, and saw that the corset pushed my smallish but shapely tits up and out, so that their prominent nipples stood out in what I though was an appealing way. Turning and looking over my shoulder, I saw my long hair falling to almost the bottom of the corset, which left my buttocks completely free. On them, and my upper thighs, could plainly be seen the marks of my most recent whipping.

I pulled on a pair of white, lace-top stockings, and fastened them to the corset's garter-straps, then stepped into a pair of outrageously high-heeled gold sandals. As I did so, I reflected that a very few days ago, I should have scarcely thought it possible to walk in shoes as high as these – now I wore them as a matter of course.

I completed the outfit with a shimmering gold silk skirt, which came to just below the tops of my stockings, and a transparent gold organdie blouse, through which my nipples jutted over the top of the corset. Putting on a pair of long gold ear-rings and a delicate anklet, I took a last look in the mirror and decided I was ready to face ........well, just about anybody.

I went down to lunch, with the confidence of someone who felt as if they were starting to 'belong' at last, and dined alone, drawing appraising looks from other diners, which I enjoyed. Whilst I was taking coffee, Doña Francisca came and sat with me. She pre-empted the question I had uppermost in my mind.

'Renata, my dear, I want you to consider staying here with us – for an indefinite period,' she said, a lace-gloved hand resting on my knee. 'You will, of course, have everything you want here, and a substantial sum of money will be paid into your account each month. I understand you will wish to speak with your parents, who will, if you agree, travel home without you. You may not, of course, give them any details of this establishment, and the address is a post office box.'

'But what will I have to do?' I wanted to know. I had fallen in love with a lifestyle, but couldn't envisage how I could turn it into a means of making a living.

The older woman laughed lightly. 'You will assist with our little "spectaculars" and other entertainments, train new recruits, and entertain clients yourself.'

'That last bit makes me sound like a whore.'

'My dear, we are all whores, in some way. What did you do, back in Britain?' 

'I worked in computers.'

'Eight hours a day, tapping a keyboard, for a small sum of money, to make someone rich, hmmmm.'

'OK, so I sold my fingers and my brain, I suppose,' I grinned, and relaxed. I looked at Doña Francisca's dark eyes, and saw an answering smile playing in them. She knew she had me hooked. 'Let me go and see my parents,' I said. 

She leaned over the table and kissed me, her tongue darting into my mouth – I accepted it hungrily – and she said: 'Welcome, Pet. Go and put on something your parents will recognise you in, and I'll see you in the hallway in half an hour.'

I went back to my room, and reluctantly got out of my wonderful sexy clothes, thinking about putting on a pair of jeans, when I remembered that there were no such things in my wardrobe, so I settled for a button-through cotton summer dress, just above knee-length. I had neither panties nor bra, apart from a few half-bras, which did nothing more than push my breasts out and make my nipples stand out prominently, so I wore no underwear, and I only had very high-heeled shoes, so put on a pair of white stilettos.

My boss was waiting for me as promised, and her sleek Mercedes was outside on the driveway.

Unlike the journey to the club, I was not blindfolded, and watched orange groves and tourist apartments flash by as we made good time to Benidorm.

She left me at the foyer of the hotel, and, although I was certain my mother would be taking her siesta in the room, I had the male receptionist call to announce me before riding up to the fifth floor in the lift.

'You're soon back,' said my mother, a trifle sourly, as if she resented being awoken, 'your father's gone for a stroll – he'll be back any time now.'

No sooner had she got me an orange juice from the room's little fridge, than my father came breezing back, looking, I thought, younger than I had seen him look for some time.

'Benidorm suits you, then,' I remarked, and he smiled.

'And what have you been up to, my precious?'

'Oh, this and that,' I said, wishing to avoid any dangerous territory. I thought I would come straight to the point, 'I have been offered a lucrative job, in international publicity.'

It was what Doña Francisca had told me to say. 'I need to stay close to here, at a conference centre, for several months.'

'Oh, that sounds interesting,' said my father, 'can we go and see the centre.'

'I'm afraid not – it's not yet finished.' Again, I had been well briefed.

My mother sat passively through the exchange, but perked up a bit when I asked her to send me details of her bank account, as well as mine. At home, I had always shared my salary with her as my contribution to the upkeep of the home.

When I thought we had finished discussing matters, and I got up to leave, telling them that someone was waiting for me, my father, who was more observant than I sometimes gave him credit for, said, 'Since when have you taken to wearing heels like that? And an anklet? Got a man we don't know about?'

I gave him a coy look, and trotted over to kiss him on the cheek. As I left the room, his gaze followed me fondly.

Back in the Mercedes, I suppressed a sigh of relief – the 'generation gap' had never felt wider. But, of course, Doña Francisca was almost as old as my mother, I realised with a grin.

'What are you smiling at?' she asked, as we joined the motorway.

I told her I was just very pleased to be coming back with her, and her hand ran up my thigh, seeking the folds of my pussy. I gasped as she found my slit, and as a long fingernail grazed my clitoris, my dampness increased instantly.

I wanted to return the favour, and put my hand on her nylon-clad knee, but she stopped me, saying, 'No, Pet, I'm going to have to stop if you want to do that.'

'Oh yes,' I heard myself saying, and she turned off into a dense area of pinewoods, and brought the big car to a halt some little way up a rough track.

She half turned to face me, and pulled the black ribbon from her platinum-blonde hair, letting it fall about her face. She looked ten years younger, and less severe altogether.

We kissed, gently at first, then she crushed her lips against mine and found my rock-hard nipples with her fingers, kneading and pulling at them until I shouted out with pain and pleasure. I felt up under her pleated skirt, up to the tops off her nylons, to thee soft flesh above, and up to her lovely, hairless mound, more protuberant than most. She parted her legs, drawing me into her moistness, so that I felt sucked in by her capacious cunt, and I put first two then three fingers right up inside her, pushing hard, into her secret depths. 

'More,' she shouted, and took my whole hand within her, as she held fiercely on to me, pulling me into her as if she would never let go, then, with a great gasp, she was finished, and pushed me gently away.

'Come on, let's go,' was all she said, and took the wheel to drive the rest of the way to the club without a word.

When we arrived, she sat and waited while I walked around and opened her door for her, and smiled slightly when I let her walk in front of me. I hadn't forgotten I was to address her as 'mistress' in front of other people at the club, and these small acts of subservience were proof of this.

I went to my room to prepare for dinner, as it was now almost seven. When I arrived, I saw that the door to the room next door, Lara's, stood open. I poked my head around it, to find one of the maids busy arranging clothes in the wardrobe.

'Where is Lara?' I demanded.

The girl either spoke virtually no English, or was not about to. 'No here.'

That much was obvious. I tried out my rudimentary Spanish. '¿Donde esta Lara?'

'Se ha ido'

'¿Pero a donde?'

'A su país, con José.' 

I understood her to mean that Lara had already gone off to Romania, with José. I should miss her, and felt an emptiness within me.

But I readied myself for the evening, wondering what it may have in store for me. My Mistress (I was already thinking of her as such – it was safest) had not told me in any detail what was expected of me, and I was in a state of nervous excitement about my future at the club. It would have been wonderful to have Lara to talk to about it.

I shrugged and went to the wardrobe, picking out a long black silk gown with a halter neck, backless, so that the stripes of my whipping would not all be hidden from view. I slipped it over my head, and its soft folds fell over my naked body, giving the loveliest sensation. I stepped into a pair of very high black patent heels, and completed my simple ensemble with a pair of very long gold ear-rings, which brushed my shoulders.

When I went down to the dining room, I was delighted to Sergio already there, wearing a grey business suit and striped tie.

'Hello, Pet,' he said, 'I gather you're staying with us.' He looked pleased, but didn't look ready to turn somersaults. He kissed me on both cheeks, and complimented me on my appearance, then clicked his fingers. A girl in a little black dress and frilly white apron appeared from nowhere, and he whispered something in her ear. She scooted out as if on wheels.

I stood beside Sergio for no more than a couple of minutes, and was about to ask him what was going on, when he put a finger to my lips, and pointed to the door with the other hand. The maid was just then ushering in two young women. One was a fair-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde, tall and slim, with long, straight hair, and the other was much shorter, petite, with distinctly Asiatic features and short, ink-black hair. They both wore jeans and tee-shirts.

'I'd like you to meet Emma and Mai,' said Sergio, 'they are here for a week or so, if they are suitable. I hope you will play a major part in their training, Renata.'

He had noticed what I was wearing and said pointedly, 'Please lead the two girls to their rooms. Mai will take the room next to yours, and Emma the one next to that.' He smiled briefly, and I turned, and led the girls out and up the stairs, gathering my dress up to avoid tripping. 

It was Mai who asked, when we reached the top floor, 'Have you been beaten?'

I turned and smiled at her, remembering Doña Francisca's words to me, 'You have a lot to learn,' I said.

I showed them both their rooms, and told them to prepare for dinner. I thought it best to sit them both down on one bed and inform them of the rules. They were:-

No body-hair allowed.

No panties unless expressly requested.

No bra, except half-bras which left nipples exposed.

No trousers.

All shoes to be high-heeled

It was all, in fact, extremely simple, because the only items in the wardrobes and drawers of their rooms were in strict compliance with the codes of dress demanded, and I left the two girls wide-eyed with wonder at the fantastic selection of beautiful silk and other transparent and semi-transparent gowns, negligees, dresses and skirts they found. 

I left them to it, and went back to rejoin Sergio in the dining room.

'Thank you, Pet,' he said, 'I know you'll do well.'

I was about to protest that I didn't really know what was expected of me, when we were joined by another couple, who Sergio introduced as Mario and Marta. Mario was powerfully-built and dark, and Marta was olive-skinned and curvaceous. They both wore an air of authority, and her suit was Armani if ever I saw one, whilst her shoes may well have come from Manolo's in Madrid.

Sergio, speaking Spanish, after first apologising to me – apparently the others spoke little or no English - introduced me as his girlfriend, which staggered me momentarily – The title novia in Spanish society is taken rather formally – but then he was telling me that this couple were the owners of the club, and that Doña Francisca, for all her airs, was only manageress. I was beginning to understand a bit more.

The conversation partly went over my head, but the gist of it seemed to be that Mario was interested to see the new recruits Sergio had brought, especially Emma, and in her connection, I caught the word 'virgen' more than once, accompanied by half-humorous snorts from Marta.

While we were eating, the two newcomers were shown in by one of the club's many pretty young assistants, and sat at a nearby table. Mai wore a white silk blouse, at which young nipples poked appealingly, and a minute pleated black miniskirt, revealing bare, slender legs on the obligatory stilettos. Emma had chosen a long electric-blue dress, which was really two halves, the front and back fastened together by three silver clips, one just below her armpit, one just above the waist and the third at thigh level. This ensured that anyone could see at a glance she was naked under the dress, and I thought it looked charming, though Emma was clearly feeling self-conscious as she took her place at the table. That she was unused to walking on the high heels was also very obvious. I feared for her, and said so to Sergio. He patted my knee, and said, 'Don't worry, Pet, she has passion written all over her. Look at the way she wears that dress.' 

After we had taken coffee, and waited for the girls to finish, Sergio told me to take them to the 'library.' 

I took it he meant the big room where I had first been punished upon my arrival at the club, and beckoned the girls to follow me there.

Once again I was aware that Emma, in particular, was looking at the wheals on my back as we went down the corridor, and the girls seemed apprehensive when we got to the room, but I wasn't going to put them at ease – it wasn't my job. Conscious that Sergio and the two owners were following behind, I sat down in one of the armchairs and beckoned first Emma to stand before me.

'Raise your dress,' I told her, anticipating my orders.

She looked at me quizzically, and slowly lifted her dress up her long naked legs, pausing for a second, then revealing a perfectly clean-shaven mound. I told her to hold her dress up at her waist, and ran my hand through her slit, forcing her to open her thighs a little. She was damp with anticipation, though not unduly so, and had neat, almost concealed labia. I found her little nub of a clitoris, and flicked at it with a long fingernail, causing an 'Oh' to escape from her lips. I let my fingers linger a moment longer in her cunt, then allowed her to drop her skirt and go and sit down.

It was Mai's turn, and she took her place in front of me, rather more hesitantly, I thought. This time, I hadn't any need of help, as her skirt was barely long enough to hide her pussy from view. But as soon as I lifted it an inch or two, I could see why she had been reluctant. She had still a luxuriant growth of pubic hair.

'This is disgusting,' I said, and, as if on cue, Sergio, Mario and Marta walked into the room.

'What is disgusting, Pet?' asked Sergio.

'Look at this,' I told him, and held Mai's skirt up for him to see her bush.

'Oh dear, he said, 'I'm afraid that means early punishment for our new friend.'

If I was expecting him to take over at this point, I was to be disappointed, because he simply smiled at me, and said, 'As it's her first night, I don't think she can choose her own instrument of punishment. You must use the crop on her.'

I was aghast. 'You mean I have to punish her!' I cried, 'But I can't – please don't make me do that.'

'Oh yes you can, Pet.'

He was already preparing the little brunette for her punishment as he spoke. 'Undress,' he ordered her, and she stepped out of her skirt and unbuttoned the blouse, revealing small, firm tits, with hard pointed tips. She was trying almost reflexively, to cover herself up, and Sergio pulled her hands away, leading her to the middle of the floor.

'Kneel,' he ordered her, and she got down on the parquet floor, squatting on her haunches. 

'No,' said Sergio, quite harshly, 'kneel up, and put your hands behind your head. If you can't keep still, we shall have to have you tied up, and I don't like to do that on your first night.'

Mai was trembling visibly as I fetched the riding crop from the tray on the shelf nearby and showed it to her, running it around her shoulders. 

As I did so, I noticed that Emma was now standing with Marta and Mario, who was fondling her buttocks, his hand through the opening in her dress, but his eyes watching with interest what was happening to Mai.

Sergio came around in front of Mai and said, 'As it's your first time, Renata will go easy on you, and you will receive only ten strokes. Please count them down from ten. But tell me now if you don't want this to happen to you. Do you want to be whipped?'

'Yes,' she said, in a small voice.

'I didn't hear that,' said Sergio.

'Yes, please,' she said, firmly, and he nodded to me.

I stepped up and raised the crop. 'Swish' – it fell neatly across her back, bringing a sharp little cry, then 'Ten.'

'Harder,' said Sergio, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Marta was unclipping the silver fasteners on Emma's dress, running her elegantly manicured hands down the blonde's statuesque curves, as she pushed the dress aside.

'Swish' I struck harder, and harder, and was now leaving red stripes across the little Asian girl's back and buttocks. She was crying out with each stinging blow, and Sergio made me stop at five so that he could feel to ascertain if the whipping was giving her pleasure as well as pain. He pronounced her wet, and told me to carry on.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 02



Pain and pleasure were intermingled for Mai, without a doubt, but what effect the whipping was having on me was another matter altogether. At first I thought the idea repugnant, but warmed to the task, and was horrified to find myself getting really excited before I had finished whipping her. When Sergio bent down to feel the girl's cunt, I wanted his cock inside of me, not her, and as soon as possible.

Soon I had finished, and Sergio sent Mai off to her room to shave herself thoroughly, and rang for one of the girls to go and help with her wounds, which were quite minor.

Then as if in answer to my prayer, he took me in his arms and kissed me. We sat together on a sofa. He said he wanted to watch as Mario deflowered Emma, and I suggested it would be a better idea if we all went to a bedroom.

'Good idea,' he said, and relayed the suggestion to the others.

As if by magic, there was a capacious bedroom next door to the room where we were, and we sat on one of the two double beds, while the other three occupied the other one.

Marta slipped Emma's dress over her head, and she was left completely naked, apart from a pair of needle-heeled, platform-soled sandals. Marta was stroking the girl's inner thighs, drawing moans from her lips which spoke of abundant sexuality. Mario meantime pulled and tweaked at her hardened nipples, which topped her generous breasts.

When Marta reached as far as Emma's slit, she writhed with pleasure, and parted her own lips with two fingers as if to invite access to her dripping cunt. Marta forced her legs wide apart, which had the effect of opening her cunthole, and Mario was unable to resist any longer. 

As we watched, I felt Sergio as hard as a rock, and released his lovely cock from his trousers, stroking it gently with my hand, then taking him the way I knew he loved, deep into my mouth, sucking hard, right up and down his whole raging length.

Meanwhile Mario was positioned right at the portals of Emma's lovehole, his wife, still fully dressed, holding his cock in one slim hand to guide him home. She held him back a moment while she found a cushion to place under the young girl's arse, then returned to the fray. 

Emma's eyes were hooded with pure passion as Mario quite gently entered her with his thick, engorged shaft, and she let out a wild cry of pain and animal lust as he took her virginity with one enormous thrust. Then he powered back and forth, her slim legs wrapped about his thighs, until he too shouted out, 'Arghhh.' Then he fell across her, having shot her full of his hot spunk. 

The sight was too much for Sergio, who spurted deep into my throat, and I swallowed every drop, and licked him clean.

I glanced then at Marta, who was smoothing down her immaculate skirt. I couldn't be sure, but I thought she may well have had a hand up underneath it while everything was going on.

Marta summoned a girl to take Emma, gathering her dress about her, to her room, and held her hand out for her husband to accompany her out of the room. Sergio and I were left alone.

'What did you feel like, whipping Mai?' he asked me.

'Envious,' I replied, looking at him from under hooded eyelids.

'Oh?'

'Yes, I want you to whip me,' I said, and felt him grow hard again, at the mention of it.

'Come on, then, ' he said, and pulled me off the bed, leading me into the room next door.

'Take your dress off,' he said, and I unclasped it at the back of my neck, whereupon it fell down over my hips, and down my legs in a whisper, leaving me stood in a pool of black silk, in nothing more than a pair of stilettos.

In no hurry, he took a pair of silver nipple clamps he always seemed to carry from his pocket, and placed them almost tenderly on my long, hardened buds, then tightened them down until I cried out sharply, and my pussy filled with my juices.

He walked over to the shelf I now knew so well, and came back with the tray.

'What should I use, do you think?'

'What you like,' I replied.

'I think the switch, then,' he said, and took up a thin cane, then had me bend over the back of the sofa. To be truthful, I could think of nothing beyond the nipple-clamps, whose exquisite pain was filling my mind and body.

But then I heard the inevitable thin swish as the narrow cane tore through the air, then felt the fierce sting as it kissed my defenceless arse. I suppressed a shout of anguish, but after two more vicious blows, Sergio knew how much he had hurt me, when he brushed back my hair to see my face, the involuntary tears running down my cheeks.

'Can you take just another two?' he asked.

'Oh yes,' I replied, and braced myself as the wicked cane fell again across my delicate flesh. My pain merged with tremendous desire, and I felt an orgasm building within me, one of cataclysmic proportions. When Sergio threw aside the switch, I pulled him into my arms, and we rolled together onto the sofa. I opened my legs and dragged him into me with a strength I hardly knew I possessed, and his great, hard shaft penetrated me as easily as if it had been a finger. Having the heat of his huge erection within my body was the culmination of all my needs, and I abandoned myself to sheer joy as he pounded in and out of me, heightening my pleasure by thrusting two or three fingers – I couldn't have counted – hard up my still-tight arsehole.

He roared with lust as he drove one last time right up to my innermost limit, and shot his load of hot spunk deep within me, as I came to a shuddering, almighty climax.

He wouldn't let me move from the spot, until he had sent for one of the girls to wipe me down with a towel, and bring warm oil to ease into the wheals he had raised on my buttocks and upper thighs. Then he instructed the girl to take my dress to the laudry and fetch a nightdress from my room.

She was back in an instant, carrying a long silk nightgown he knew I loved, because the feel of it against my wounded flesh was so soothing. He slipped it on me, and carried me bodily out, down the rear corridor, and to my bedroom, where he laid me in my bed.

I implored him to stay and sleep with me, but he said, 'No, Pet, now you must sleep, I shall come and wake you in the morning.'

I did indeed sleep, and woke to find Sergio slipping into bed beside me, naked, as the sun streamed through the shutters. His hands found my nipples, and he was more gentle with them than was normal, but his mind was elsewhere, and a growing erection pushed at my buttocks through the thin silk of my nightdress. He pulled it quickly up, and felt my crack to test my morning readiness.

'Hmmm,' he said, 'you've slept well, then.'

'I'm always ready for your cock,' I said, and spread my arse cheeks as wide as I could, holding them apart with both hands, knowing exactly what he wanted.

He traced the lines of last night's whipping with his finger-tips, and asked me if I was hurting. I told him yes, but that it was nice, and he went on to explore my arsehole, trying first two fingers, then three, before positioning himself above me and slowly, ever so slowly, entering me, with inexorable thrusts of first just his knob-end, then more and more of his lovely length, until he was completely encased within me, as if a part of my own body. I wanted to keep him within me for all time, and when he started to thrust in and out, I came, again and again, until I thought I should die of sheer pleasure.

With a great heave, he came in one thick spurt, right into my bowels, and we stayed put, the two of us quite exhausted, for what seemed like half an hour. 

As he was putting on his robe to leave my room, he turned and said, 'I've had breakfast sent up to the two girls, and yours will be here shortly too, of course. Later on Francisca will come and tell you what we have planned for them. I must go now, I'm already late.'

And he was gone.

I didn't have long to wait until one of the girls brought me a light breakfast of coffee, croissants and fresh orange juice, then I bathed in a very leisurely fashion, and took great care over my nails, hair, and so forth. About twelve, I was still pottering about in my robe, when a knock on my door announced Doña Francisca, demure in a short black velvet dress, her platinum blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, discreet pearl ear-rings matching an expensive looking ring on a beautifully-manicured finger. Her long slender nylon-clad legs were perched on black patent stilettos with metallic heels. I complimented her on her appearance, and she almost smiled. It was then I noticed the bag she had placed on my dresser, and raised an eyebrow.

'In the bag are some things for you to introduce to the new girls. Can you do so right away, dear, please?'

'Of course,' I said, 'but do they know?'

'Not yet,' she said, 'that's where you come in. Then, this afternoon, the blonde is to be whipped – I think you might tell her so; I find it heightens the pleasure a little, if there is anticipation.'

With that, she was about to leave, but turned to me at the door, and added, 'Oh, and I think they should be wearing corsets, don't you? You might even put one on yourself, dear, as an example, you know – I'll send one of the girls up to help, shall I?' It wasn't really a question. 

When she had gone, I took a look at what the bag contained, and wasn't surprised to find two small butt-plugs, complete with their retaining chains, and a tube of lubricating cream. I smiled to myself, and waited for a minute or two until a knock on the door heralded one of the girls to help with my corset. 

I chose a white satin one I liked, which pushed my breasts up prettily, and rode high in the back, leaving my buttocks nicely exposed. The girl laced it tight, so tight I gasped at the constriction of my narrow waist, but when I looked in the mirror, my upthrust breasts and rounded buttocks were so presented as to be worth the pain. I slipped on a white negligee, stepped into a pair of high-heeled mules, and, picking up the bag Doña Francisca had left, went next door to see Mai. 

I found the little oriental beauty still in bed but awake, and asked her how she was after her whipping. She grinned and said it was not too bad, throwing back the covers so that I could have a look at the wheals I had inflicted. I traced the line of some of them with my finger, then pronounced them not serious.

I told her to kneel on all fours on the bed, and she looked at me with a slightly alarmed expression, but obeyed straight away. I ran my hands gently around her slender thighs and rounded buttocks, then down below to her freshly shaven mound, which felt smooth as a baby's bottom. I let my hand linger in her slit, which moistened as I did so, and I gently parted her legs until her knees were shoulder-width apart. I climbed onto the bed behind her, and started to massage her slit from behind, gradually working back from her now erect clit, through her wet furrow, past the gap to her arsehole, and then slowly, very slowly, introducing my forefinger into the puckered entrance.

'Oh,' she murmured, as I found my way just a little deeper, then, without warning, I plunged my finger deep into her rectum, as far as it would go, and she cried out. I wriggled my finger this way and that, then worked another finger in with it, as her pain was joined by a measure of excitement, which I could gauge by the moisture I caught on my other hand, which I ran through her cunt-lips.

'It's time for your plug, now, Mai,' I told her, and, withdrawing my fingers, smeared some lube around her anus, then pushed the wicked butt-plug home, ignoring her sobbed complaints. Next I threaded the little silver chain through the ring in the end, and fastened it to the waist chain, which I clipped around her pretty waist.

'There,' I said, deciding to leave the corset until after lunch, 'you'll do for now. You can dress for lunch. See you in the dining room.'

Next I went to Emma's room, and found her trying on clothes, standing in front of the mirror, in a long red dress.

'Hello,' I said, 'I can see you are rested. No ill-effects?'

'No,' she said, 'my pussy was a bit sore last night, but it seems OK now.'

'Well,' I said, 'you'll be pleased to hear that your pussy isn't the object of my attentions just now. But undress, please.'

She slid the dress off her truly magnificent young body, and looked a little mystified when I asked her to kneel down on the bed, as I had done with her friend. When she did so, I couldn't resist cupping hands under her gorgeous breasts, which scarcely trembled as she adjusted her position, so firm were they. 

More knowing than Mai – or perhaps she had been listening through the wall - she sensed what I was about to do, and herself parted her thighs, then, resting her head on the headboard, she freed her hands, and pulled her buttocks wide apart with both hands, lewdly presenting her still-virgin anus to me. It was, in fact, quite hard to believe that she had never been taken there, and I decided to dispense with too many preliminaries, so I simply lubricated her, then jammed the butt-plug into her rectum.

'Ooargh,' she cried, and I regretted not taking it more gently, when I saw she was crying. She was not as hard as she seemed.

After I had dried her tears, though, she managed a wry smile, and I fixed her chain, and then said to her, before I left her, 'By the way, Emma, this afternoon, you are to be whipped.'

'Will it hurt?'

'Yes,' I replied.

'Very much?'

'Yes, I think so. You can refuse if you wish, and go, you know. Do you want to be whipped?'

'Yes. Yes, please.'

I went back to my room, reasonably satisfied with the way things had gone, and put on a black leather miniskirt, pulled on white stockings to attach to the garter straps on my corset, and slipped on a transparent organdie blouse. Completing my outfit with a pair of needle-heeled, platform-soled sandals, I went down to take lunch.

I sat with Doña Francisca, and lunched lightly, whilst the two new girls took their places at another table. Mai wore a tiny sundress, and was bare-legged, looking very fetching, whilst Emma had picked a tank-top and miniskirt, leaving her with a bare midriff. My boss looked at me disapprovingly. She pointed rather brusquely at the top of my corset with her fork. 

'I see you got around to putting on your corset, but apparently it was too much trouble to do the same for her.' She pointed at Emma.

Considering for a moment, she said, suddenly, 'Sorry, but you will be punished too, in private, and by me.' Then, as if that was decided, and the end of the matter, she smiled, patted my knee, and asked me about the girls' butt-plugs. I told her all was well.

When lunch was over, she went over to the girls' table, and said, 'Wait in your rooms, now, you will be prepared and brought to the appropriate place.' She was being, I thought, deliberately stern.

She whispered instructions to me, and called for one of the silent young girls to appear from nowhere, complete with a large bag, which appeared to be ready-prepared for the occasion.

We went first to my room, where, following instructions, I took off my skirt and blouse, and replaced the skirt from the girl's bag, with a layered, completely transparent, flared miniskirt, trimmed with lace. It hid nothing at all, and my breasts were exposed for all to see, pushed proudly up by the platform-like top of the corset.

Next was Mai. My brief was to get her into a corset similar to mine, 'as tight as humanly possible,' and my helper assisted by pulling the laces with all her strength, until Mai almost passed out as her waist was cruelly constricted. Then she was dressed in a skirt just like the one I now wore, and helped on with a pair of white stockings, again like mine. We were identically attired.

Next stop was Emma's room. We found her still dressed in her miniskirt and top, so I told her to strip, and we all three sat on the bed while she complied, admiring her wonderful body. I took from the bag five straps of soft leather, one much longer than the rest, each with a metal ring set into it. The longest one, I placed around the blonde's neck, and buckled it snugly. The other four I placed on her wrists and ankles. I got the young girl to attend to Emma's hair, which she did expertly, pinning it up in a swirl on top of her head. We checked her make-up carefully, then had her slip into a long transparent, white, lace-edged negligee, with long sleeves, fastened by a lace cord. I clipped a leash, like a dog's lead, into the ring depending from her collar, and pronounced her ready. She was trembling. I held her for a moment, and kissed her on the lips, letting my tongue seek out hers. She relaxed just a little as I stroked her body gently under the thin negligee.

'Come on,' I said, 'they'll be waiting.'

Emma stepped into her high-heeled mules, and I thought of another detail. I took a short length of chain from the bag, and shackled her two ankle rings together, so that she could only walk with difficulty. Still suffering from the butt-plug, and with the height of her heels to add to her problem, she had an uncomfortable walk. 

A few minutes later, however, Mai and I, identically-clad, walked through the red velvet curtain on to the stage of the theatre on the ground floor of the club, me leading the shackled Emma, on her leash, towards the two pieces of furniture the stage held.

They were a couch and a big, wooden, St Andrew's Cross, with stout metal rings, from which depended snap-links, at its extremities.

As we entered from one side, so, quite dramatically, entered Doña Francisca, from the other, resembling, I thought with a little secret smile, nobody so much as Zorro, in a black cape, with a wide sombrero. But the platinum blonde hair peeking out beneath was a giveaway.

She stood on the stage, in front of the cross, flicking a long riding crop against her leg.

Emma, beside me, muttered, 'Oh my God.'

Doña Francisca whirled about and threw her cape to the ground, revealing a remarkable costume. She wore a black leather cat-suit, with three large cut-outs. Two of them allowed her ample breasts to stand free, their nipples rouged for the occasion. The other one exposed her shaven pussy for all to see. The audience, whose numbers I could only guess at, in the semi-darkness of the auditorium, gave a collective gasp. Francisca sat gracefully on the couch and threw her legs wide apart, showing her gaping pink cunt to the gathering. I knew what to do, and led Emma to her on her leash, pushing her head down so that she could lap at the boss's glistening quim with her young tongue.

This she did for a few moments, until Doña Francisca, appearing to tire of the treatment, gave her a sharp slap across the cheek, bringing real tears to her eyes.

I tugged her up with the leash, unclipped it, and stripped off her negligee, and the audience murmured their approval. I glimpsed couples on the front row, and thought I could see one woman giving a blow-job to her partner already.

I clipped Emma to the cross, with Mai's help, so that her back was to the audience. Her butt-plug was all too evident, but I gave it a tweak, just to make sure they had seen it.

Emma was shaking, but Doña Francisca stepped up close to her and asked her if she was ready, feeling between her legs as she did so.

'Yes,' she replied.

'Yes, what?'

'Yes, please, mistress,' improved Emma.

'I am going to hurt you. You know that?'

'Yes, mistress. Please hurt me.'

'Say it louder. The audience want to hear you say it.'

'Please hurt me, mistress,' she said, audibly enough, and Doña Francisca stood back and measured her distance with the crop, then swung.

'Swish.' And Emma let out a sharp cry as the first stinging slash landed across the small of her back, raising a red welt on her delicate white flesh.

Another whistle through the air and the crop landed with precision just below its first destination, making the start of a pattern on the young girl's back. She cried out louder this time.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 02



'If you cry out,' said the girl's torturer, 'this will go on longer. You must learn to take your punishment better.'

Emma gritted her teeth as the next strokes landed lower and lower, until they striped her upper buttocks, then Doña Francisca reached between her legs and felt, pronouncing her dripping wet.

'Five more and we're finished,' she said, 'can you take that?'

'Yes mistress.'

'Good girl. Have you had an orgasm?'

'Yes, twice,' she said, in a little voice.

When she had done, I was told to take her down from the cross, the curtain came down, and we took applause from the audience.

Doña Francisca thanked me for my help, and said, 'Very good Renata, but don't forget that we have unfinished business. I don't think Sergio is coming tonight, so perhaps after dinner.............? 

To be continued?



Renata's Vacation Ch. 03



I was ready for whatever punishment Doña Francisca had in store for me. But I thought I should prepare as if Sergio was coming, even though it seemed he wasn't. There was something about the older woman that made me eager to look my best, anyway.

I took infinite care over my hair and make-up, then had a good look at myself in the mirror, turning this way and that, My waist had reduced already thanks to the tight corsets I had been wearing, I thought, and my shaven pussy still looked alien to me, even after several days. But I felt good about myself - my hair was black and glossy, my freshly-rouged nipples and labia an erotic invitation. Glancing at the time, I saw I had an hour before dinner, and decided to give myself the luxury of a few minutes with an anal vibrator. Sitting back on the bed, I lubed around my anus, and pushed a medium-size anal dildo gently right in. I switched it on and closed my eyes, letting the waves of pleasure flow over me, as I massaged my rapidly-moistening clit at the same time. I came twice, in quick succession, in great shuddering sighs, before lying back, switching off, and relaxing.

Renata, what has happened to you? I wondered, then grinned, and cleaned myself up. It was time to dress for dinner, and I took my time deciding on my dress for the evening.

Disliking tight bodices, I chose a dove-grey silk gown with a loose top, so that my unfettered breasts would have chance to move enticingly when I walked. But below the waist the dress was so tight and pencil-slim that it had to be zipped up with a full-length hidden zipper all the way from floor to waist. It fit me like a second skin, so that I could scarcely walk, and had to take tiny, mincing steps. I made matters worse by stepping into a pair of patent stilettos, of course, and completed my ensemble with a pair of long silver drop ear-rings. Looking in the mirror, I was satisfied. 

My present companions, Emma and Mai, were to dine in Emma's room, I had been told, so Doña Francisca and I dined alone, she now elegant in a short gold velvet dress, a far cry from the last outfit I had seen her in.

The older woman smiled when I joined her, laying her hand upon mine, 'Let us enjoy a nice dinner now, my dear. I suppose I look a little less theatrical, shall we say, than I did this afternoon, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten our little.......arrangement, for later. I trust you are still happy for that to happen?'

I looked at her, and felt the gentle pressure of her hand on mine. 'Oh yes,' I heard myself saying, 'but what are you going to do to me?'

'First enjoy your meal dear, and see how that man looks at you.' She indicated with a vague wave a man in his fifties, who was sharing a table with a woman of a similar age at the other side of the dining room. His gaze was constantly moving to me, ever since I had walked into the room, my nipples dancing against the thin silk of my dress as my breasts jiggled in time with the shackled effect my ultra-tight skirt and five inch heels produced. He was fascinated by me, that much was clear. I smiled back at him.

When the meal was finished, my companion led me out past the older couple's table - the man's eyes never left me, and, glancing at his female partner, her gaze was always directed downwards, as it had been throughout. I was curious about her, noticing that she had greying hair, but was probably younger than I had at first thought, younger than he was, in fact, with an attractive, unlined face and some very expensive-looking diamond jewellery. I was about to ask Doña Francisca about the couple, but she led me into a room I had never entered before, and flicked on dim lighting in an otherwise dark 

little chamber, whose main feature was a large, centrally-placed table, with intricate-looking pulleys at all four corners. When I approached the table, and touched the surface, I found it consisted of concrete, into whose surface was set a bed of hard stones and flints of varying sharpness. Extending from each of the pulleys was a leather cuff, at the end of a short length of rope. There was a stool at on side for purposes of mounting the table, and a small cupboard beneath.

When she was sure I had taken it all in, Doña Francisca said quietly, 'Undress.'

I looked at her apprehensively, then back at the table.

'Come on, I'll help you,' she said, and ran the zipper up my leg, freeing me from the tightness of the skirt. Once I had shrugged off the dress, she motioned me up on to the table, and made me lie face down, spreadeagled across it. Even though I did so very gingerly, the discomfort was terrible as the sharp points dug into my sensitive body. Then Doña Francisca manacled my wrists and ankles, fastening them snugly into the 

leather cuffs at each corner of the table. Next she pressed a button at the side of the table, there was a mechanical whirr, and I felt the tension taken up on my arms and legs, then suddenly I felt I was being pulled apart! This also had the effect of pulling me down onto the table's surface, and the sharpness of the points on my skin made exquisite points of pain.

I was aware of another button being pressed, the whirring stopped, and I was left in a state of extreme tension, helplessly spread apart and tortured by the stones biting into the soft flesh, especially of my breasts and thighs, where I was in agony. But Doña Francisca was pulling something from the cupboard beneath the step. She stepped up and showed it to me - it was a leather flogger, consisting of several thin strands of leather. She started immediately to thrash my buttocks, causing me to squirm on the terrible flints. I cried out with the pain, but the warmth which spread from my arse with each vicious blow she landed, had my cunt-juices running, and the very vulnerability of my helpless position was incredibly exciting. I felt an orgasm welling up within, and when I cried out again, the older woman interpreted it correctly, and pushed the handle of the flogger into my cunt, just as I reached a shuddering climax.

'You know you shouldn't reach an orgasm without my permission, at times like this,' she said, 'for that, I shall leave you for some time.'

'No,' I pleaded, 'please don't leave me.' But she dropped the flogger and simply left me, helplessly drawn across the awful table, and left the room.

She was gone for what seemed like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes. When she returned, she was smiling, but made no move to release me, instead I heard her rummaging about in the cupboard. Next she went to the control panel and pressed a button. At first I was terrified that some new horror awaited me, but a whirring sound announced a great relief as the tension was relaxed a little. But still she didn't release me, and, as I watched out of the corner of my eye, she unzipped her dress, and slipped it off her shoulders, so that she was left standing in a black silk slip, which barely reached her shaven pussy. She was magnificent for her (probably) fifty years. Hidden fromme was what she had taken from the cupboard, but I was to find out soon, when she started to smear lubricant around my arsehole, then probe in with a finger. With a grunt of satisfaction from her, I then felt something larger and cold being pushed hard into my anus. 

'Oooah,' I yelled, as the broad dildo penetrated beyond my sphincter, right up into my bowel, then Doña Francisca was up on the step and mounting the table, lowering her own arse on to the sharp pebbles,

'Oh,' she cried, softly, as her buttocks felt the pain, and it was then that I realised that she was joining us with a double-ended rubber anal dildo. She locked her long legs around my helpless body, and I wished I could return her caresses, but she was bent on coming to a fierce and tumultuous orgasm, and I heard her animal growl as a climax overtook her, but mine was not far behind, then I could only lay helpless until she climbed off and released my tortured body from its shackles.

She sat on the step, and bade me do the same thing, then pressed a different button in the control panel.

Within seconds, one of the servants appeared, and was despatched to fetch robes for the two of us. Thus equipped, I made my way to my room, where another girl was detailed to help me tend my wounded skin. I had surprisingly little real damage. The flints had only broken the skin in two or three minor places, and the flogging had done no more than redden my arse. I had been ordered to rest until lunchtime the next day.

I slept late next morning, and awoke feeling very refreshed. I couldn't believe how little damage the previous night's punishment had inflicted upon me, but, thinking about it, realised that Doña Francisca was very experienced in such matters, and that the 'hard table' as I now knew it was called, was specially designed to hurt like hell but not to do permanent harm. My anus had taken a battering, though, and its 'stretched' feeling gave rise to memories which started to moisten me all over again, whenever I thought about what had been done to me. My fingers strayed involuntarily to my demanding clit, and I closed my eyes as images flooded before me. Forcing myself to stop, I sighed and went to take a shower. I slipped on a simple summer cotton print dress, stepped into a pair of heels, and, feeling ravenous, went down to lunch. My eyes sought anyone to sit with, and alighted upon Mai, sat alone at a corner table.

'Where is Emma?' I inquired, when I approached the slight Chinese girl.

'Gone,' she said, 'spoke to the boss this morning and said she didn't want to be whipped again. I think she only really came to lose her virginity.' She giggled and went on, 'I'm different, I really love it here. Something happens to me when I am hurt, do you understand?'

'Yes, Mai, I understand,' I replied, and told her about my punishment the night before.

She was wide-eyed when I told her about the 'hard table' and said she wanted to be put on it. I told her that her turn would surely come.

I ate a bigger than usual lunch, and was relaxing over coffee when my heart gave a leap as the door swung open, and in walked Sergio, as handsome as ever in a grey business suit, white shirt and blue silk tie. But with him was a very attractive girl. She had skin the colour of light teak, and the longest, blackest hair I had ever seen. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a white trouser-suit and low heels.

Sergio came straight over, greeted Mai briefly, and kissed me warmly on the lips, making me feel special. 

'Meet Ria,' he said, presenting the newcomer, 'she will replace the English girl.' 

I greeted Ria, and soon learned that she was from Brazil, and expected to spend two weeks at the club. Sergio told her to go and have a coffee with Mai, then took me on one side.

'Pet,' he said, 'I have heard from Francisca. You did very well last night, I know - she was very pleased. But she is unhappy about Emma leaving and wants you to help with the new girl, prepare her. Ria is no virgin, and she shouldn't be a problem, but I shall want you to tell me. Then, tomorrow, I think it is time I had you marked, my Pet.'

'Marked?' I wanted to know, 'how?'

'If you have seen 'O' you will know, he said, cryptically.' I hadn't, and didn't. He wouldn't tell me more, but went on to tell me what he expected me to do with Ria.

I took Ria up to Emma's old room, which was next door to mine, and which had already been cleaned and prepared for her. Her English wasn't perfect, but she was clearly appreciative of the room, and especially of the wardrobe it contained. But when I explained its limitations, she pursed her lips a little - she said she would have to get used to going without panties, and would have to practice walking in the ultra-high heels which were obligatory. When I started to tell her about shaving, however, she calmly unzipped her trousers, hooked her fingers into the waistband of her nylon panties, and yanked them down, revealing an already clean-shaven pussy.

'You like?' she asked, a lop-sided smile playing on her lips.

'I like,' I agreed, as she stripped off the rest of her clothes. She had long slim legs and a flat belly, hips perhaps a shade too narrow for some tastes, but nicely rounded buttocks. When she unhooked her lace bra, her breasts were small but firm, the nipples dark and hard-looking, matching what I could see of her labia. They would not need rouging. Now she was naked, I took a good look at her, and told her to sit on the bed. 

'Now open your legs,' I told her, and she did so. She had obviously been told to obey me.

I parted her dusky labia with the fingers of both hands, and looked at the glistening pink of her cunt within. Having it looked at in this way was exciting her a little - that much was clear from the new secretions that were starting to seep from her, and an experimental stroke of her clitoris was all it took to bring a little moan from her lips. But my brief was to move downwards, and seek the puckered ring of her anus. When I did this, I found it an instantly receptive haven for two of my fingers. Her arsehole was no more a virgin than was her cunt, but she cried out loud when I forced both fingers deep into her, and writhed on the bed, throwing an arm around my neck and dragging me forcibly close. She was stronger than she looked.

Ria kissed me desperately, thrusting her tongue hard into my mouth, as my fingers probed her hot arsehole, and she bucked her hips wildly as he climaxed with ferocious force. When she recovered, and we were side-by-side on the bed, I told her she would have to wear a large size butt-plug for the next day or two, and she made no complaint.

I then helped her with her make-up and hair, and gave her as much advice as I could on choosing a dress for the evening.

Whilst we were doing this, I asked her why she had come. 

'I am an illegal,' she said, 'what is there for me? I was working as a whore, and some of the men like to tie me up. Then I find I like it.' She smiled her crooked smile again, and I wasn't sure I was convinced, but she certainly hadn't faked her orgasm just now.

I left her to finish dressing and went back to my own room.

I chose a long white silk halter-neck gown, completely backless, right down as far as the start of the cleavage of my buttocks. The silk of the top was so soft and loose that my breasts moved around as if totally uncovered. I knew all eyes were on me - many probably taking in the red stripes still showing clearly from my whippings across my back - as I entered the dining room, and I had never felt sexier. I sat with Mai, whom I now had come to regard as more-or-less of an equal at the club. She was looking beautiful, in an off-the-shoulder green dress, which had a plunging neckline that divided her small breasts and almost reached her waist. A thin gold chain suggestively spanned the gap, making it obvious that it was connecting nipple-clamps. 

Ria came in a little after me, wearing a long silver dress, open right down one side, where it was joined by three metal clasps, one just below her armpit, one at her hip, and one at knee-level. She looked a trifle unsteady on her five-inch heels, but otherwise very elegant. I beckoned her to our table, and introduced her to Mai.

Sergio appeared, and put a finger to his lips in a signal to me, then went to sit alone in the far corner, where he was shortly joined by Doña Francisca, splendid as ever in a black velvet suit. 

After dinner, the two of them came and asked us to go with them to the library. I assumed that this meant Ria's first whipping, and wasn't surprised when Doña Francisca told Mai and the new girl to undress. Meanwhile, Sergio patted the sofa next to him, and I went and sat by his side, whilst Doña Francisca stood by and supervised the proceedings.

Ria was taller than Mai, but they were a pretty sight, Mai with her gold nipple-clamps joined by a little chain, stood beside the darker girl, from whose anus the obscene butt-plug protruded, held in place, as I had shown her, by a silver chain, connected to her waist-chain. Both girls wore five-inch stilettos, which had the effect of thrusting out their buttocks as they walked. But whilst I was lost in my admiration of them, Doña Francisca was issuing orders to Ria.

'On your knees,' she said, 'and hold your hair up with your hands, behind your head.'

When she was kneeling up to the older woman's satisfaction, she produced a riding crop from the tray I now knew so well, and gave it to the naked Mai, whose eyes widened in horror.

'I couldn't,' she said, 'I just couldn't.'

'You can, and you will,' she said, and slapped her hard across the face.

'Yes, mistress,' said Mai, and took up the crop.

Sergio wasn't satisfied with Ria's position on the floor, and got up, then pulled her gently towards us, so that she was within touching distance of where we were sat together on the sofa. He nodded to Mai, who still looked uncertain, until Doña Francisca made a menacing move towards her.

Responding, she raised her arm, and struck Ria just below the shoulder-blades with the crop.

'You can do better than that,' said Doña Francisca quietly, and the next blow, lower down, was a much harder one, the crop whistling nicely through the air, and landing with a sharp 'crack' on Ria's tender skin. She cried out in anguish. Before she could take another stroke, Sergio reached out and took her rock-hard dark nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and pulled fiercely as she was whipped once more, causing her to scream for mercy. 

Mai was warming to the task, even beginning to enjoy it, and Doña Francisca slipped a manicured hand between the Chinese girl's legs to see just how much.

'But you're quite wet, Mai,' she said, 'and you said you couldn't do it!'

Sergio was now cupping Ria's tits as the blows of the crop rained ever lower, and tears ran down the Brazilian's beautiful cheeks.

'Her nipples are so very hard,' he said, 'I wonder how wet her pussy is?' He gestured to me to feel her slit, and I knelt beside her, and groped between her legs, down over her shaven mound, between the dusky labia. She was soaking, a pool of her cunt-juice forming on the parquet floor beneath her, and her clitoris was an erect nub, demanding attention. 

Mai had almost finished. Doña Francisca indicated that she should give her another two strokes, across her lovely, rounded buttocks, and I kept my hand in place while she did so, feeling Ria's centre writhe with more than just pain as the blows fell. When the last blow had been administered, and welts were visible all over Ria's smooth back and arse, I felt she couldn't be denied the fuck she so clearly needed, and Sergio was the only man around. Mai was holding Ria, kissing and caressing her, whilst I sought to release Sergio's burgeoning rod from his trousers, where it was creating a huge bulge. With some difficulty, I pulled down his zipper, and levered out his lovely cock, lovingly stroking its prodigious length, and licking pre-cum from his glans.

Meanwhile, Mai and Doña Francisca helped Ria up off the floor, and I had to make room for them as they lifted her bodily onto Sergio's lap, As they did so, I guided his cock into her gaping, inviting, glistening cunt. There was a sucking sound as her hungry vagina took in his entire length, and I massaged her clit as his rod submerged itself to the very neck off her womb. They stayed immobile for an instant, then she threw back her head, cried out wildly, and rode him with writhing, snaking hips, as he thrust up hard to meet her pounding and join her rhythm. He couldn't keep this up for long - not even Sergio - and came in a massive grunting heave, as she collapsed across him. 

Magically, Mai had meantime slid her hands up the hem of my gown, and found my own oozing sex. Satisfied that I should be receptive, she had slyly crept on to the sofa beside me, and was trying to position our pussies together. I wanted desperately to let her, and pulling my dress out of the way, I lifted my leg to allow her to slide hers below. That way we ground our clits one against the other, helping a little with our hands, until both our orgasms came in rapid succession, Mai's first, then mine. 




Renata's Vacation Ch. 03



Doña Francisca looked on in amused silence, then said, 'You'd better all get to bed now, I should think you need a night's sleep.'

I slept well, despite the nagging worry about what Sergio had said about having me 'marked.' What did he mean? I had heard about 'The Story of O' - lots of people mentioned it - but hadn't read it, or seen the film, so didn't know what to expect. I supposed I should find out soon enough.

I went down to breakfast, dressed in miniskirt and silk blouse, which was my normal 'uniform,' and ate alone, until Sergio joined me as I was finishing my coffee.

'As I said yesterday,' he told me, 'today I shall have you marked. At eleven, you will be taken from your room to the library. White negligee, please.'

I shuddered a little - that was the dress code when severe punishment was to be inflicted, I knew. 

Just before eleven, I made up carefully, and put on the long, transparent negligee, tied with braided cord, slipped on a pair off high-heeled mules, and waited until I heard a knock on my door.

It was Doña Francisca, dressed in a short, tight black dress and needle-heeled boots, her platinum hair severely tied up in a bun. With her was one off the silent servant girls, carrying a tray. The older woman motioned for the girl to put the tray on the dressing table, and took from it a silver choker, which she fastened around my neck. It had a ring set into it, at the front. Then she took my wrists and cuffed them behind my back in a pair of normal handcuffs, and completed my humiliation by having the girl shackle my ankles with a pair of metal cuffs joined by a very short length of chain.

'Is this really necessary?' I asked.

'It is a bit of theatre, dear,' she explained, 'we have an audience, you see.'

Before I could question her any further, she had attached a leash to my choker, and we were off down the corridor, the other two walking slowly so that I should be able to keep up with the tiny mincing steps I could manage in my shackles.

When we reached the library, I heard a murmur of voices from within, and, when the double doors were flung open, I was surprised to see lines of people down each side of the big room, all seated on sofas brought in for the occasion. The only place not covered by seating was the big St Andrew's Cross, which occupied a section of one wall.

When Doña Francisca led me into the centre of the room, I looked around, and saw Mai, Ria, and Sergio sat together, the club's owners, Mario and Marta, and a lot of people, mainly well-heeled looking types, whom I didn't know. 

A few days ago, I might have been embarrassed to be paraded in front of these people, but how my life had changed, I thought!

At a signal from Sergio, Doña Francisca released my leash, and had the girl take off my cuffs, helped me take of the negligee, then the older woman led me naked to the cross, and, producing soft leather restraints, bound me to it, so that I thought I was to be whipped. At that, I almost relaxed. If that was all it was.......

But after a moment, I became aware of the sound of wheels, and a glance over my shoulder gave me cause for a terror such as I had never before known. I saw in an instant the nature of my 'marking' - a mobile barbecue was being brought in, with a branding iron sticking into the red-hot coals!

'No!' I shouted, but the word stuck in my throat, and before I could get a real protest together, Doña Fraancisca was pulling the iron out of the fire, so that, out of the corner of my eye, I could see its red end glowing, and smell the burning, feel the very heat approaching.

Helplessly bound, I closed my eyes, and waited, then came the searing, awful, terrible pain, worse than anything I could have imagined, as my right buttock was scorched, the delicate flesh violated by this dreadful instrument. Blackness overtook me.

I awoke in Sergio's arms, on a sofa, in the library, alone - it could have been hours, days, weeks later - it was ten minutes, as I found out.

'My arse,' was all I could say, and when I put my hand around to feel it, I encountered a great wad of dressing, but the soreness was killing me.

'It'll be fine in a day or two,' said Sergio, 'I'm so proud of you, Pet.'

He slept with me that night - and for may more after that - and when I finally was able to see my mark, it was the club insignia: a riding crop across a naked woman's body.



Renata's Vacation Ch. 04



I stood in front of the mirror, looking over my shoulder, vainly admiring the deep, branded mark on my right buttock. The club's insignia, of a riding crop and the outline of a woman's body. When I touched it, ever so gently, it was still tender, as was the memory of the awful, searing pain off the red-hot iron burning into my delicate flesh. But the memory also made me tingle between the legs, or was it the knowledge that I was going to be whipped shortly?

A knock sounded on my door. I was naked, but knew who it was going to be. It was Mai, my lovely Chinese companion, whom Doña Francisca had detailed to punish me. In the logic of the club – strange to some ears – it was a part of her training, rather than mine, that she was to whip me, and my status in the club was now such that I was to be allowed to be whipped in the privacy of my own room.

Mai came in looking sheepish, dressed in just a red silk robe, and carrying a carpet-bag, and confessed she didn't want to hurt me.

'I've only ever whipped one girl – the one who left,' she said, ' and I found myself almost enjoying it after a few strokes. But I really like you, Renata, and I don't want to hurt you.'

'Please don't think like that, Mai,' I said, 'we'll make love afterwards, won't we?'

At that, she smiled, and said, 'OK, where do you want me to do it?'

'It's up to you to tell me, Mai – you must learn to take charge.'

'Right,' she said, 'Kneel on the floor – here.' She pointed to a spot in the middle of the wooden floor, and I obediently knelt there. She put the bag down on the floor beside me.

'Hands behind your head,' she ordered, and she flicked my long hair around and over one shoulder so that it fell over my breasts.

'What shall it be?' she asked, and I knew what she meant.

'The crop, I think,' I suggested.

She took the cruel riding crop out of the bag and tested its movement through the air, seeming satisfied with the swishing sound it made. Then, without delay, she stood back, and there was another swish and .... 'CRACK' as it landed with a sharp stinging sensation across the hollow of my back.

'You must count down from ten,' said Mai, dropping the role of dominant very nicely, I thought, and I gasped, 'Ten,' then 'nine,' as another fiery lash followed the first, just below it. I was by now expert at taking punishment, and the pain of Mai's lashes soon started to merge with growing warmth of ecstasy and the flowing juices of desire – desire for Mai, who knew I wanted her lithe body, knew that my wet pussy was longing for her. By the time she reached 'three', she was setting my buttocks on fire, and the last few strokes didn't spare even the area around my new mark, which I knew Mai coveted, and she at last wrung a sharp cry from my lips as she struck me directly over the tender new brand.

'I'm sorry, Renata,' she said, finally, and threw off her robe, thrusting her small breasts hard into my face, so that I couldn't help taking her hardening nipples into my mouth and sucking them like a baby.

We helped each other up onto my kingsize bed, and entwined ourselves, as she stroked my back and arse, making quite sure she hadn't broken the skin or caused me too great damage.

The whipping had had its customary effect on both of us. My cunt was soaking, and when Mai stroked my slit with her long, beautifully manicured fingers, I felt an uncontrollable orgasm welling up within me, and shook with its power. She had only to touch my hard little clitoris, and I moaned with the intensity of its wave of sheer frenzy.

My own hands, meanwhile, were busy parting her labia, and I then responded as I knew she loved – plunging my tongue deep into her cunt-hole, and licking her sweet juices, while I probed with my finger, equally deeply into her warm and inviting anus, which seemed to suck my finger into its secret portals. She came in seconds.

'I've no need of vibrators with you, Renata, she said, how I'm going to miss you.'

Tears were running down her cheeks as I looked at her almond eyes, and I felt my own filling up. I was going to miss her too. For I had been told that Sergio and I were to leave the next day, to open a new club. There had been a long meeting between Sergio and the club's owners, Marta and Mario, to which not even Doña Francisca had been invited, and this was the upshot.

That evening there was a celebration dinner at the club. I wore a backless grey silk gown with a halter neck, proudly showing off the red welts Mai had given me that afternoon. Another recent acquisition was a broad silver collar that Sergio had presented me with, when he had had me branded, saying that it was something I had earned only after my first period of subservience. I was very proud of it, and never took it off. 

We dined together, Sergio and I, Doña Francisca and Mai, and I was surprised to see a tear in Doña Francisca's eye when she said goodbye at the end of the evening, as she had always seemed very stern and forbidding, and appeared to take delight in meting out punishment.

Next morning, we left at first light, driving off in Sergio's Mercedes, as we had quite a long journey, and he explained that he wanted to arrive well before lunch in order to start organising staff. The new club was in a remote situation not too far from Almería, and when we arrived I saw that it had been built along the lines of the nameless one we had just left. Sergio told me that there were, in fact, four more similar clubs, in strategic places along the coast, all quite discreet, and none of them having a name.

The building smelt new, and was beautifully fitted out, with no expense spared, and when Sergio showed me around, I found that it was virtually a facsimile of the club near Benidorm, right down to the 'library,' the little theatre, the room with the 'hard table' and the well-appointed bedrooms.

Our immediate concern was to interview the 'domestic' staff, who needed to be very discreet – they all had to sign papers promising complete secrecy about what they saw, and we took care to find beautiful young girls as servants, to whom we could 'dangle the carrot' that they may eventually move on to higher things at the club. Of the six we saw that morning and afternoon, we selected four.

When I asked Sergio about the girls who would be doing the real work at the club, he told me that a friend, Daniel, was bringing three girls that evening, and they would all be dining with us. Another friend, Ivan, was bringing a girl the next day. If they were all satisfactory, that would bring us up to strength, and we should be just about ready to open in a week's time. I asked if the girls new what was in store, and he spread his arms enigmatically, 'Who knows?' he said.

I eagerly anticipated dinner that evening, and Sergio told me I was to dress rather more formally than was my normal custom. We had taken possession of the master bedroom at the front of the club, overlooking the driveway, and I found the wardrobe as well-equipped as I could have hoped – and more so. I picked out a narrow black velvet gown, with a deep, plunging neckline, and Sergio insisted that I wore nipple-clamps with it, making the fact obvious by attaching them to each other by a thin gold chain. I was accustomed to them by now, but their pain still made me squirm, and I felt the associated wetness building inevitably within me. The gown's skirt was long and very tight and restricted my movements, which I also found arousing, and I stepped into a pair of very high black stilettos. Brushing my long black hair to a silken sheen, I felt good. 

We seemed to have the kitchen functioning after a fashion, and there was a lot of scurrying about as we entered the dining room to await the new arrivals. We stood at the little bar, and I thought Sergio looked very handsome in a blue blazer, grey slacks and a cream shirt. He told me that Daniel had been treating the three girls to a short 'holiday' in an apartment at a nearby beach resort, and that they should at least be dressed for dinner.

A scrunching of gravel announced the arrival of a vehicle, and we watched through the window. It was a 'people-carrier,' and a cheerful-looking guy of medium height, with tousled dark blond hair, emerged, and threw open the passenger doors. Three girls emerged and I had a chance to watch them come up the three steps to the front door of the club. Three girls more diverse would have been difficult to find. First came a very tall, slim, startlingly black girl, as elegant as a fashion model, dressed for contrast in a white pant-suit and high-heeled sandals. Her hair was elaborately coiffed in cornrows. Next came an olive-skinned, dark-haired, Mediterranean-type, petite, with an oval face and large, dark, liquid eyes. She wore a simple calf-length button-through dress, but was the type who would have looked good in a bin-liner. The other girl was an unmistakeably Scandinavian type, a head taller than the previous one, though not so tall as the black girl. She had long, straight blonde hair right down to her waist, and showed off her long slender legs, impressive breasts and narrow waist in a skimpy blue minidress.

'Hmmm,' I said, 'it looks as if your friend has varied tastes.'

Sergio chuckled and nuzzled my hair, 'We might have an entertaining week preparing this little lot, eh? And, there's another to come, remember?'

When Sergio had first presented Daniel to me, he introduced the girls. The black girl was Amity, and was from Nigeria, the Mediterranean type was, in fact, Romanian, and was called Martina, and the blonde was Swedish – her name was Inge.

Whilst the girls were freshening up, and being shown their rooms, I had a chance to talk a little to Daniel and Sergio about them. I said I was worried about Amity, as African girls sometimes had a tendency to be prudish, but Daniel said that was far from the case – she had spent time in the States – 'You'll see,' he said. I warmed to Daniel, who was a happy-go-lucky sort of guy, and couldn't help wondering whether it would be nice to fuck him.

The two guys were deciding upon a strategy for the first twenty-four hours of the three girls' training – the fourth girl would have to wait until we saw what time she arrived – and it was thought essential that they were introduced to some form of punishment as soon as possible. I asked if they had had a long journey, and Daniel said not, so I suggested that it may be a good idea to have them whipped that evening, fairly mildly – to get them used to the idea. Then, tomorrow, perhaps they could have butt-plugs fitted? Sergio thought that sounded fine. 

No sooner had we decided upon the regime than the three girls appeared, and took their places at the next table, where they were served with dinner. Over coffee, Sergio went over and addressed them.

'Welcome, ladies. I don't know what you've been told, but I know you are expecting some experiences involving restraint and pain, but much pleasure. Your training will start tonight. If any of you wish to leave at any time, you are free to do so. Now please go to your rooms and put on a white negligee you will find on your bed. This is required whenever you are to be punished. Then wait in your rooms.'

'Why are we being punished? I don't remember doing anything wrong,' asked Inge, indignantly.

'Punishment here is a part of our life, and doesn't necessarily require wrongdoing.' With that, he summoned me with a click of his fingers and I got up and walked over to the girls' table. He very slowly and deliberately spun me around and unfastened the zipper at my neck and lowered it, pushing the halves of my dress aside so that they could see clearly the angry red welts left by Mai's recent whipping. He ran a finger along one of the welts, then held it up for me to kiss.

'And Renata is your boss,' he said, ' and did nothing wrong, believe me. Now go.'

We left them, open-mouthed, and went to the bar for a drink, while they collected their thoughts and went off to their rooms.

Half an hour later, I sent one of the girls to fetch all three of them to the library, making sure that they had on their negligees and white stiletto mules. Sergio was, I knew, a stickler for ritual.

When they entered, Inge and Martina looked terrified, but Amity wore a haughty expression.

Sergio and Daniel were slouching on a sofa, letting me take charge.

I wanted to inspect each girl closely, and had them take off their negligees in turn. Amity's coal-black body was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I was fascinated when I ran my hand through the black folds of her labia, and saw the secret glistening pink of her cunt within. She moistened as I fondled her, and her breasts were impressive too, hard little nipples pointing upwards on the tips of sharp, firm, little tits.

Martina could have passed for Spanish, with her olive skin, and pretty oval face. She had lustrous hair, and I noticed that, unlike the others, she had not yet shaved off her pubic hair.

'That's got to go,' I said, rummaging my hand through it, 'tomorrow.'

Inge had a wonderful body, her heavy breasts tipped by great aureolas and long nipples, hardened now, as I tweaked them with my thumb and forefinger. I walked around her, and looked at her arse, which was lovely and rounded, and I couldn't resist running a probing finger right the way from her clitoris through her slit to her anus, then just poking ever so slightly into the tint, reluctant hole, drawing a gasp from her lips. She, too, was damp.

I decided to put wrist restraints on all of them and fasten them to the chains which dropped automatically from the ceiling, if they worked as at the parent club. It was time to try them out. I found the leather restraints exactly where they should be, and the push-buttons worked to order. Down came the chains, and I soon had all three girls hooked up, awaiting their fate.

I had decided in advance that it would not be too severe, and I though a session with the flogger would be an ideal start, doing no real harm, but reddening the skin prettily. I took the nine-strand leather flogger, and started with Amity. I lashed her quite hard and she took it with equanimity. After three strokes, I turned my attention to Martina, who yelled in agony at the first blow.

'Quiet,' I told her, and she bit back tears as I carried on for two more. 

Then it was Inge's turn, and she moaned in what sounded like a mixture of pain and pleasure as I struck her lower back. Curious, I felt her crack, and her juices were, unmistakeably, oozing from her. 

After six strokes each, I had reddened the lowers backs and buttocks of the two white girls – it was difficult to see what effect I had had on Amity's inky skin – and Sergio and Daniel stopped their conversation to beckon me over and whisper instructions.

Sergio said, 'Take them down now, Renata, that's enough for the first time. Daniel's going to take two of them to bed to lick their wounds, and you can take the other. Take your pick.'

I raised my eyebrows, and looked a question at him, and he grinned.

'Oh, I've got to go to Málaga, to collect the fourth girl, now.'

When I expressed surprise, he told me that the fourth girl was working in a club there, and had been 'bought' by Mario, who assured Sergio that she would be 'ideal for our purposes' – but he would have to be there after the late night session to collect her, for some reason. He told me he'd be back some time the next morning.

I shrugged, and got on with my job, releasing the three girls from their restraints, to their relief, and helping them back on with their negligees. I had already decided on my choice for the night. Amity fascinated me totally, and I couldn't wait to have her long, black body next to mine, so we all went for a nightcap, the girls chatting now, as if nothing had happened, Inge and Martina linking arms with Daniel as we wandered through into the dining room again. Amity was serious - grave, almost, as we took our drink, she sipping a fruit juice while I had a whisky, but as soon as we got to the bedroom, and I stepped out of my dress, she fingered my wounds wonderingly, and then wanted to inspect my little gold nipple-clamps as I removed them, and felt the blood flow back painfully into my long, hard nipples.

I held out a hand to her and pulled her gently down on to the bed. It was a warm night and we could sleep naked, but the feel of the silk sheet would be soothing to our sore backs, and I pulled it over us, then stroked the whole length of Amity's long, firm body. I didn't want to turn off the light just yet, as I was captivated by the very blackness off her flesh, never having experienced a coloured person before. I just couldn't believe how different she was, and merely looking into her huge eyes excited me beyond belief. I ran my hand down her smooth, flat stomach, and over her hairless mound, seeking her jet-black lips, which I lay and regarded before tentatively lapping the length of her slit, taking up her moisture. She opened her legs to me, moaning softly, and her cunt seemed to glow in its wet pinkness. My tongue darted in, as deep as it would go, and she reached for my hair and pushed me hard into her, spreading her legs as wide as she was able. 

'Ooooh,' she moaned and heaved convulsively, so that I knew beyond doubt that she had had a huge orgasm.

I came up for air, and she said, 'I came when – when............'

'When I whipped you?' I supplied.

'Yes,' she said.

'I never knew,' I said.

'Where I come from, we sometimes have to learn to keep quiet, you know,' she said in her slightly deep voice.

We lay together, entwined, black on white, all night, waking from time to time to enjoy each other's bodies, but waking refreshed, as light streamed through the shutters on a fine, sunny day.

Sergio didn't arrive until almost twelve, by which time Daniel had already seen to the fitting of the three girls' small-size butt-plugs, which they would wear for a few days, although I suspected that Inge, at least was no stranger to having anal sex, and said so to Daniel. 'I'll let you know,' he grinned, cheekily, and I thought, yes, I bet you will.

When I heard Sergio's car roll up on the gravel drive, I went to the window and looked out to see him getting out, and not even bothering to open the passenger door. Out of it stepped a girl who looked Northern European, with short auburn hair, wearing a microscopic flared and layered white nylon miniskirt, a skimpy blue tank-top and glass-soled high-heels. She looked every inch a hooker.

When he had kissed me, he announced his new acquisition, 'This is Ursula, she is a slut,' he said, and she smiled nicely, showing a silver tongue-stud, as if he had said she was his cousin, or something.

'I am German,' announced Ursula, in heavily accented English, 'and I am a pain-slut.'

Having read one or two BDSM stories, I had heard of such women, but to hear one describe herself as such struck me as strange, to say the least, and I drew Sergio aside, and asked him to tell me more. He told me only that Mario had negotiated a deal with an associate in Málaga, and he had been asked to collect the sultry young woman, who had slept all the way back to Almería. 

I got a girl to show her to a room, and Sergio told her to come and take lunch with us at two.

At lunch, the three girls who had come the previous night sat together, Amity and Martina looking significantly more uneasy than Inge, their butt-plugs obviously giving them some discomfort, whilst the Swede appeared more accustomed to having her anus invaded.

Sergio and I were soon joined by Ursula, who was still dressed in the tiny layered skirt. I noticed that she lifted it as she sat down, so that her bare arse was in direct contact with the surface of the seat. Close up, she was, in fact, quite pretty, if a little coarse, with a retroussé nose, hazel eyes, and full lips. Her breasts were small, with nipples that poked against the thin material of her tank-top. I thought they might well be pierced.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 04



I was curious to know about her, and, in response to my questioning, she told me, in her halting English, what made her tick. She said she was, in effect, an authentic masochist, and, thanks to some bad things she didn't want to go into detail about in her past history, she could never get any sexual satisfaction except through extreme physical pain. But she said that the anticipation of it excited her as well. As she talked about it, I saw Sergio's face – he was listening intently, and I ran an exploratory hand across his lap. The bastard was hard just hearing her talk, and I knew he was thinking about trying her out with a whipping. I gave his cock an admonitory squeeze, and he grinned at me with no trace of shame.

'Ursula,' he was saying, 'perhaps you would like to try our "hard table" – I think it may be just the thing for you?'

'If you say so,' she said.

'Right, then, after dinner. Rest now, and dine with us, then you can go back and wait in your room to be prepared.'

Sergio and I dined together, but he imperiously waved Ursula away to sit with the other three girls at another table. Over dinner, he told me to 'prepare' the newcomer, and to wear something appropriate myself. He appraised my blue halter-necked velvet dress, and said, 'Something a little more severe, eh?'

I changed into a black corset, then called for one of the girls to help lace it up tight. I pulled on black stockings, and clipped them to the garter-straps, and put on a tight black miniskirt. I left my breasts uncovered, pushed up by the corset, and asked the girl to help me fit my favourite gold nipple-clamps. She was fascinated by this, and said, 'I – I want to try those. Can I?'

I looked at her – she was a very pretty girl, with huge dark eyes.

'What's your name?' I asked.

'Eva,' she replied.

'Look, Eva,' I said, 'you are only eighteen, and there are many things you don't know yet. But perhaps later you can be trained, if you are patient. Now come and help me prepare Ursula.'

I slipped on the highest patent heels I could find, and went around to Ursula's room, trailing Eva behind me.

Ursula was waiting for us, make-up done, in her robe. I told her to take it off, and told Eva to find her white negligee. The wholly transparent, long-sleeved garment covered her nakedness, but revealed all, and, as I slipped it on her, I was able to see that not only were her nipples pierced, and adorned by heavy, dull metal rings, but a similar ring hung from her clitoris hood, and her navel was pierced and decorated with a dangling chain, consisting of three large links. I couldn't resist the thought that she would have fun in a metal-detector at the airport.

I decided that her preparation required a little more, and went to the top drawer of her dresser, where I new I should find what I needed. Sure enough, I took out a silver-plated collar, which I placed around her neck, and a leash, which I attached to it. Then I found the shackles I was looking for and hobbled her, with a short chain. Eva had meantime found her a pair of stiletto mules to step into, and thus she was prepared. We went down the corridor, looking ritually prepared, I thought, and into the 'hard-table' room, which was larger than the similar room at the club where I had been trained.

It was large enough, in fact, to accommodate a long, upholstered bench down one wall, and on it sat the three novice girls, and Daniel. Sergio waited for us on foot by the table.

I took off Ursula's shackles, but left her leash in place, and gave it to Sergio, who pulled her into place over the sharp gravel surface of the table. Then he pushed her roughly down on to the table and told me to restrain her wrists and ankles to the pulleys set at each corner. Once I had done that, he pressed a button, saying, 'Now let's see how this thing works.'

Ursula never even whimpered as her young body was stretched across the dreadful, sharp stones, and Sergio passed me a thin, wicked looking cane, with a leather grip like a golf-club, nodding to me.

I laid about her straight away, lashing her buttocks, bringing up angry red welts. Not a sound escaped her lips, but when Sergio ordered me to pause, he pushed a hand brutally into her open cunt, and said, 'She's sopping wet. Carry on.' I transferred my attention to her back and she began to moan, but it wasn't the pain – not in any normal sense – she was experiencing a tremendous, heaving, writhing, climactic orgasm. She bucked against her restraints, and a trickle of blood ran down from a wound on her right hip, caused by throwing herself against the sharp stones. 

'Stop,' said Sergio, and, from the cupboard, produced a monstrous dildo. With no lubrication or preliminaries whatever, he rammed it into the German girl's rectum. She screamed, an animal noise the like of which I should have thought she was incapable, but then she said, simply, 'Ja, ja, ja!'

When we released her, and she slipped back into her negligee, the other girls were slightly in awe of her, and I knew she would have a part to play with some of our clients. But my immediate concern was to get her wounds treated with antiseptic and soothing oils. She was quite a girl.

When we got to bed, I lay happily with Sergio, and we talked of our plans for the club. Opening Day was now close, and the immediate concern was to get the three girls 'up and running.' They had been fascinated watching Ursula's whipping on the table, and I hoped they had not been terrified by the knowledge that all of them would get their turn.

Sergio suddenly sat up. 'Look, Pet, we haven't long to go before we open. Why don't we have a different girl in bed with us each night?' 

I could see the sense in this, and agreed, but didn't expect him to instantly ring for one of the young girls to fetch one of the 'trainees.'

'Which do you think?' he asked while we waited.

'Martina,' I replied, so when one of the girls appeared, he despatched her to fetch the Romanian girl.

She made her entrance two minutes later, wearing, like myself, a long silk nightgown, her dark hair brushed out and falling about her shoulders. She looked tentative, so I held my hand out to her, and pulled her gently to the huge queen-size bed, making space for her between Sergio and myself, which she wriggled into with alacrity. We both started to fondle her body with long, sensuous strokes outside the soft silk. She purred with pleasure like a cat, her eyes half-closed.

When Sergio was satisfied that Martina was relaxed, he said, 'Turn over now, please,' to her, and she did so, then he told me to put a pillow under her belly.

Once I'd done that, he pulled her nightdress up to her waist, and eased her slender legs apart. I knew what he was looking for, and, sure enough, he probed her anus with first one, then two fingers, trying to ascertain whether the butt-plug had already had any effect on her virgin arsehole. While he did so, I ran my own fingers through her warm, damp slit, and fingered her growing clitoris, drawing a little moan from her ready lips, which I then kissed gently, letting her tongue find its way into my mouth. 

'Pass me the lube, Pet,' said Sergio, and I handed him a tube from the bedside table. He smeared a good quantity around and into her anus, while I gave his cock a few pumps with my hand, just to be sure he was rock-hard for what he was going to do. He signalled to me to crawl up to the pillow, which I did, straddling Martina's Face, while Sergio knelt at her rear. As he started to push gradually at her little puckered arsehole with his big, thick cock, I guided her face simultaneously between my legs, feeling her starting to lap the moisture from my crack. Her tongue flicked at my clit as Sergio's prick made inroads into her protesting rectum, and a deep moan mingled with the sucking noise as her tongue darted into my cunt. Her hands went around behind me, and her finger sought my own, more commodious, arsehole, as my man's rod pounded its way past her sphincter, and at last buried itself deep within her. She moaned more gruffly, a more savage sound, as he invaded her last intimacy. She brought me to orgasm at the same time as she herself shuddered and came explosively, with a scream that sounded as if she were being seriously wounded. Sergio shot his load right into her bowels at that very moment. 

When he withdrew, she moaned again, and there was an audible 'plop' as he left her. I wriggled down and she pulled me into a close embrace. I knew then that something would be forged between us – that Martina was going to have a special place in my heart from now on, that she was somehow different from the other girls who had come with her. The three of us spent the night closely entwined. When Sergio fucked me gently, Martina kissed me passionately, as she stroked Sergio's balls. I had a gradually developing, mounting climax. After we had all slept, Martina gave him a long, languorous blow-job, while I played with her sweet, wet cunt. He spent his seed deep into her throat, and she hungrily swallowed every drop, then licked his shaft to cleanliness. 

It had been one of the best nights of my life, but I was absolutely tired out by morning, and it took three cups of strong coffee to get me into any sort of mood for action.

While we breakfasted, Martina's colleague's, Amity and Inge, appeared, together with Ursula, and they all took breakfast at another table.

'Do we have to call her "a pain-slut?"' I asked Sergio, 'it sounds so ugly.'

'It was her own description,' he said, 'but I agree, it's not very nice, even if it's quite accurate.' He grinned.

'I think we should let her help train those two,' I said.

'OK,' he agreed.



Renata's Vacation Ch. 05



As opening day approached at our new club near Almería, our preparations became more urgent, and I decided to take Martina into my confidence as a sort of second-in-command, to fulfil the role I had started to take on under Doña Francisca at the club we had so recently left behind. Sergio was in full agreement, especially as it meant the three of us sleeping together frequently, which he liked.

But we also had to summon Inge and Amity to our bed for a night each, so that we could check them out before letting them loose on our new clients, so time was crowding in on us.

Sergio wanted to put on a 'spectacular' for our opening night, and had sent discreet word around all the influential local businesses and dignitaries as to what was about to take place. He knew from experience who to invite, and, more importantly, who to avoid.

We were anxious to do something different from the shows at the parent club, especially as our owners, Mario and Marta, together with my old boss, Doña Francisca, were going to be present. I was very nervous as I prepared myself for the evening, and just hoped it would work as planned.

I dressed with great care, choosing a backless long velvet gown. I had Eva help me put up my long black hair, and knew she was envious of us as we prepared to welcome the guests.

'Your turn will come, darling, don't worry, ' I told her, recognising myself in her – we were physically quite alike. 

Once ready, I went to help Sergio with the arrangements in the theatre, and prepare the other girls and Daniel, who, apart from Sergio, was to be the only male participant in our show.

The stage of our theatre was a little larger than the one at our parent club, which would help what we had in mind, and I went up on to it to make sure all was well. As requested, there were two St. Andrew's Crosses, one at each side of the stage. They were equipped with snap-links at all four extremities. In front of each was an upholstered couch. Between them, heavy chains hung from the ceiling, again ending in snap-links, and matched by similar attachment sprouting from the floor. In front of this array was a table, on which was set a tray containing a variety of whips and other instruments of pain and torture. There was a many-stranded leather flogger, and long riding-crop, a great leather bull-whip, a leather paddle, a thin leather belt, a long leather thong which had metal insets like teeth set into it, two thin, vicious-looking canes with leather handles and two huge dildos. Directly in front of this, steps leading down into the auditorium would be revealed when the curtain went up.

Cars started to arrive, and it was time, at last, to welcome our guests. I had Eva, and another very pretty girl, Naomi, in their skimpy maids' uniforms, stand at the entrance, taking guests' coats, and directing them to their seats, and I myself greeted special ones, like Doña Francisca, and our owners, who all seemed very pleased to see what we had so far done. 'I hope you will enjoy the show,' I said nervously.

'I'm sure we shall,' said Mario, patting my arse. I think he would have preferred to take me up to bed there and then. Marta looked disapprovingly at him, though she knew him well enough, knew he had fucked every girl on the staff at some time or another. 'Come on, let's go and see the show,' she said.

Sergio had been organising the show meanwhile, and had everyone in place. I nipped around backstage, and took in the scene. Martina and Inge were clipped to the St Andrew's Crosses, both stark naked, which I thought would be a wonderful impact, when the curtain rose. Both girls had lovely bodies, and I had made sure they had been prepared well, their nipples and labia rouged, their faces made up perfectly, their hair immaculate. Spread-eagled as they were, they couldn't have looked more vulnerable, and when I told them to look terrified, it was hardly necessary. I left them alone on stage, gave the signal for the music, a solemn, vaguely ecclesiastical chant, to start, and the curtain rose. They tossed their heads around on cue, as I watched from the wings, and on walked Daniel and Amity, hand-in-hand. They both wore close fitting latex body suits, and in their free hands held riding crops. They came to the front of the stage, still hand-in-hand, and then the audience could see that both body-suits were crotchless. When they released each other's hands, Amity stroked Daniel's naked prick in the lewd gap in his suit, getting an instant response, as it reared up to her touch, while he thrust his hand into her slit through the open crotch of her own suit, and she opened her legs slightly in answer to his touch. They didn't dwell in this position, but, as the music swelled, they kissed and parted, the audience applauding spontaneously now, as they made their way, Daniel to Martina, and Amity to Inge.

They had both been well-schooled in theatrical moves, and made a great show of stroking their respective victims with their crops, feeling their cunts, probing them with the handles of the crops and tweaking their rouged nipples, then as the music gave them the pre-arranged signal, they both started to whip their chained and helpless prey. Both screamed out, much more loudly than was normal. Although the crop undoubtedly hurt, I knew that Martina, at least, had a taste for the whip, and had several times begged me to punish her. 

I looked down at the audience, and saw many open mouths, and already some masturbating going on. I saw to my considerable satisfaction that one well-dressed lady had her husband's shaft in her hand, right there in the front row.

As the music faded, I gave the signal for the lights to be dimmed too, and it was Sergio's turn to make his brief appearance. He marched on, in a cowelled monk's robe, and, as the lights came on, it was clear that Martina and Inge had been taken down from their crosses, and were now reclining on the upholstered couches, where they were both quietly masturbating themselves for the audience's benefit, their busy fingers darting into their pink pussies, holding their labia apart so that those close by could see clearly.

Sergio went to the tray on the table, took up one of the massive dildos, and strode over to Inge. Without ceremony, he bent down and rammed it hard up the Swedish girl's cunt, then turned away, and repeated the process for Martina. Side curtains closed across the two girls' positions, and they both got up and scampered into the wings.

'How did I do?' asked Martina, breathlessly.

'Just great,' I said, 'you were fantastic.'

While this was happening, Sergio had gone to the back of the stage and returned, dragging an apparently reluctant Ursula with him. She was dressed in a long sheer white negligee and stilettos, with a silver chain around her waist. Her nipple-rings, and the ring in her clitoris-hood could be seen through the thin material, under the lights. She made a show of resistance as Sergio cuffed her wrists to the chains above her head, and fastened her ankle-restraints to the clips in the floor. With one sudden movement, he tore her negligee from neck to ground, ripping it from her body. The, picking up a long, thin cane from the tray, he sent it whistling audibly through the air, and lashed her dispassionately across her upper back, raising a bright red welt the whole width of her white back. She neither cried out nor flinched.

Sergio took a step forward. 'I will introduce you all to Ursula,' he said, in a clear voice, 'whilst all our girls here are accustomed to punishment, and, indeed, learn to enjoy it, Ursula has a capacity for pain which goes beyond the normal. I now invite any three of you to come and whip her, using whatever implement you choose from our selection here. You can have five strokes each, and they can be as hard as you like. Ursula can take it.'

Sergio then went and sat on a chair at the back of the stage, and watched as first a young guy got up on stage, accompanied by much ribaldry from his friends, and used the riding crop, three to Ursula's arse, and two across her tits, which I thought might have made her wince, but she looked disdainfully after him when he left the stage. An older guy got up and tried his hand with the bull-whip. It was impressive-looking, but I knew from personal experience that it was not as fearsome a it looked. Then the last guy stepped up, and called to Sergio, 'Can my wife have a turn?'

'Certainly,' said Sergio, and a slightly past-her-best blonde stepped up, wearing a good leather suit and silk blouse. She looked at all the instruments on offer and took up a thin cane. She walked slowly around Ursula, as if to look for points of vulnerability, then nodded slowly and lashed her hard, twice, across the inner thigh. I thought I saw the German girl actually flinch just a little, and when she repeated the dose, just a little further back, a tiny 'Oh' definitely escaped her lips. The woman threw down the cane, and said, 'Four's enough, darling, but we'll come and see you here soon.'

The show drew to a close, and all the girls came on naked to take a curtain call, to considerable applause, then we served dinner.

Later, Sergio and I had a meeting with Marta, Mario and Doña Francisca.

'Well, what did you think?' Sergio asked.

'It was very good,' said Marta, 'but are those the only girls you have?'

'At the moment, yes.'

'Then, judging from the number of people in the audience, I think you had better get some recruiting done. You need two more, at least, and soon.'

I had been coming quickly to the same conclusion, and already had an idea.

'I've got a girl lined up,' I said, 'she should be fine.'

'Good,' said Sergio, 'I think I know who you mean, and I agree. Perhaps our talent scout Daniel can find us another – we'll send him off to the discos.'

When everybody had gone, I rang for Eva.

She arrived at my office, looking nervous. 'What have I done wrong, Miss Renata?' 

'Nothing, so far as I know,' I said, 'you live at home, don't you?'

'Yes,' she said.

'No boyfriends or anything?'

'Not at the moment.'

'Could you move into the Club?'

She looked a little taken aback. 'I suppose so,' she said, after a moment's hesitation, 'my foster-parents don't really have enough room for me anyway.'

'Do you remember once asking me about my nipple-clamps?'

'Yes'

'And do you remember saying you would like to try them – be trained?'

'Yes,' she said, her voice clear of any doubt, her big dark eyes regarding me with something close to awe.

'Well, Eva, the time may have come.'

'Oh, Miss Renata, I've lived for this day. I know all about what you do. I'm not a child, just give me a chance – I won't let you down.' She took my hand in hers and kissed it, and, as she was about to leave, she turned to me and said, 'Just one more thing. I wonder if.....if one day, I could be.......could be.....er.....branded, you know, like you?'

I was left speechless as she went out of my office, but in no doubt that I had my new recruit. 

Next morning, Eva was waiting at tables, as usual, dressed in her black minidress and little white apron, and I called her to me.

'After breakfast, Eva, to my office, please.'

She gave a little curtsy and said, 'Yes, Miss Renata.'

She had obviously been waiting for me to get there, because no sooner had I sat behind my desk than there was a timid knock on the door.

'Come in,' I called, and Eva appeared.

I got up from behind the desk and said, 'Right, this is where your new life starts, my dear. Come with me.'

I led her out along the corridor and up the stairs to the bedrooms, and to a hitherto unused room, identical to that allotted to the other four girls who lived-in.

'This will be your room from now on, Eva,' I said, 'I will have one of the servants stock your wardrobe and bathroom during the morning. Meantime, you will come and learn a little.' 

Back in my office, after I had instructed Naomi to stock Eva's new room, giving her sizes, I explained to Eva the main objective of the club – which was, of course, to relieve well-heeled clients of their money, but in a very particular way, and with complete discretion. She was an intelligent girl, and understood quickly.

I said, 'It is most important that all the girls here really enjoy their work – otherwise you are just common whores. I don't know what you would call us here. Ursula calls herself a 'pain-slut' but I think that's ugly, even if it's somewhere near the truth. The fact is, we are all uninhibited, and recognise the relationship of pleasure and pain. I hope I make myself clear?'

Eva was quick to agree, and so anxious to please me, but I had time to kill, while Naomi completed her task, so I took Eva around the Club, showing her all the installations that she probably already knew, but which she now could see from a new standpoint. Then I suggested a coffee break, which we took in the bar, after which I judged that her room would be ready.

I was right. It was spotless, smelling of violets, and when Eva opened the sliding glass doors of the wardrobe, she gasped, 'All these beautiful things!'

She tripped into the bathroom, trying out all the perfumes, and then came back andd opened up the drawers, where Naomi had made sure there was plenty of costume jewellery.

'Before you get carried away,' I said, 'just a few rules about dress. No panties. Any bra you find will be a platform-type, so that your nipples will always be free. Only high heels are permitted. I will, from time to time, require you to wear a whale-boned corset – you will find one or two in your drawers, and possibly other restrictive items. Otherwise you will wear flared or pleated skirts and loose or transparent blouses. Do you have any questions?'

'Yes, Miss Renata, when will I start to be trained?'

'Will this afternoon be soon enough for you?' I asked her, smiling. She was an eager pupil.

'Yes, Miss Renata.'

'Right, I'll leave you now. Make sure your pussy is shaved thoroughly, and dress suitably for lunch. You can sit with Martina and Inge from now on.' 

I thought that seemed the best arrangement. Amity and Ursula had become friendly, and seemed to like to sit together, so they shared a table with Daniel, when he wasn't off on some mission.

When Eva came down for lunch, she was wearing a maroon silk miniskirt and a white Indian cotton peasant blouse, with her bare legs perched on metallic needle heels. She had made an effort to change her image from that of the servant-girl as completely as possible. I saw her erstwhile colleague, Naomi, glance enviously at her, and wondered if we should have a problem with her.

When we had all finished lunch I called Eva over to me. 

'As you know, we open to the clients tonight, Eva, but you are not going to be called upon on your first night, of course. But it won't be long before I need you, so I want you ready for all our clients' tastes as soon as possible. Come with me, please.'

She followed me meekly out of the dining room and up the stairs to my own suite.

'Go through to the bedroom,' I said, and followed her there.

She stood beside my big double bed, nervously fiddling with her long black hair.

'Undress,' I told her, and she slipped off her blouse and skirt in an instant. She was naked but for her heels.

'On the bed,' I said, and she climbed up.

'Now open your legs!' She did as she was told, revealing a neat pink slit, bordered by not very prominent labia.

'Wider, much wider,' I told her, and she pulled her slender legs apart, helping them with her hands behind her knees.

'You're not still a virgin, Eva, are you?' I suddenly had a concern at her apparent freshness.

'Oh no, Miss Renata, I lost that when I was fifteen,' she smiled, still maintaining her position as I got onto the bed beside her.

I put my hand gently to her crack, feeling for her clit, and she trembled violently.

'Did I hurt you?' I asked.

'Oh no, Miss Renata, I've been wanting you to touch me ever since I first saw you.'

I let my fingers play around her slit for a while, two of them parting her labia, while a third probed softly into the entrance to her cunt, and she moaned in my ear as her wetness became manifest on my hand.

'Miss Renata, Miss Renata, oh please, please,' she was sobbing as she dug her nails into my shoulder, and I knew what I could do.

'Wait,' I said, and reached into my bedside table, where I kept a big rubber dildo. Eva's eyes widened as I took it out, and, without delay, because I knew she needed it there and then, I thrust it straight into her sopping cunt-hole, as she gave a half moan, half scream, which sounded like, 'Oargheryeeesss!' I pumped her several times with the artificial cock and she came profusely, stiffening against me, and raking me again with her long red nails, as she clutched me to her in her passion.

Afterwards, I let her clean herself up, and then summoned her to me again.

'What about your arsehole?' I asked.

She understood the question, to her credit. 'That makes me nervous, Miss Renata,' she said, 'I've never.....' she didn't have to complete the sentence.

'Come and kneel down in front of me,' I said, 'this is going to hurt.'

Looking terrified, she assumed the position I requested, and I took a small-size tapered butt-plug and a tube of lube from my drawer. I smeared a liberal quantity of lube around her little puckered hole, and couldn't resist poking a long forefinger into the entrance, as far as I could, until she let forth a small 'Oh.'

Then, infinitely slowly, I started to wriggle the narrow end of the plug into her virgin anus, knowing from my own experience the pain and pleasure to which this was going to be the doorway. She cried out with agony as I reached her sphincter with the intrusive plug. 

'Miss Renata, I can't take it!'

'Yes, you can, you will have to take much more up there soon, and if you can take this, I will reward you later, my dear, you will see, ' I said.

Gradually, ever so gradually, the plug made its inexorable way up her rectum, paving the way for pleasures she could as yet only guess at. For the moment, she felt only pain, and yet – and yet, it was starting to mingle, to mingle with a feeling she couldn't begin to describe, the intense feeling that comes when pain and pleasure meet, in an explosion so immense that only someone who has felt it can understand. 

I knew how she was feeling when I felt the juices starting to run again from her moist cunt. Finally the plug was in place, and she was going to have to practice walking around and sitting down with it in.

'You have done well my dear,' I said, as she was dressing, 'I shall reward you after dinner. Now go and rest, and dress for dinner when it is time. You will dine with Sergio and myself this evening, as Martina and Inge will have clients to entertain.'

'Yes, Miss Renata,' she replied, and left.

The Club was a hive of activity as dinner-time approached, with clients arriving, and the girls preparing for the evening. The couple who had been the last to whip Ursula at our show had made sure to book her for the evening, and were already in the bar, having a drink, she dressed in a form-fitting soft leather suit, her blonde hair tied up in a French knot, he in an Armani suit. I discovered that they were wealthy local landowners.

Martina, Inge and Amity each had at least three reservations for the evening, an all started with dinner-dates with well-to-do clients, which we liked to encourage. All the girls were now in the bar, and I checked that they were suitably dressed, all in long dresses, either transparent or with spectacular features, such as deep cut-outs or other suggestive openings. When I was satisfied, I went over and sat at my table with Sergio, and awaited Eva. She came down on cue, and eyes followed her. She was at least the equal of any girl present, I thought, clad in a long maroon gown with a translucent bodice, through which the points of her firm young breasts poked sharply, jiggling slightly as she walked to the table, unrestricted as they were. The skirt was very narrow, zipped up by means of a long zipper at the back, so that her steps were short, and she wore the highest black stilettos she had been given. I ascertained that Naomi had helped her put her hair up, so that her long, elegant neck was clear, and she had decorated it with a silver collar, which made me resolve to fit her with a proper one, like my own, as soon as possible.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 05



Sergio congratulated her on her appearance, and we all took dinner quietly, but I kept my eyes on what was happening elsewhere, and couldn't relax until coffee had been served, and everybody had gone off to the 'library,' bedrooms, and so forth.

Then I sat back and asked Eva, at last, if she still had her plug in.

'Yes, Miss Renata,' she said, 'and you said something about rewarding me after dinner.'

'So I did,' I said, 'and so I shall. I shall whip you personally. Go to your room and put on a white negligee, then come to my suite.'

She looked at me nervously, but I wasn't able to say whether she was frightened or not. Slowly, she got up and left, and Sergio and I went up to my suite.

Once there, Sergio poured himself a Scotch, and sat in an armchair in my lounge. We hadn't long to wait before the timid knock on the door.

'Come in,' I called, and Eva walked proudly in, in a sheer long white nylon, lace-trimmed negligee, our 'punishment-uniform,' still in her heels.

'Take off the negligee!' I ordered, 'and kneel.' 

She knelt on the floor, her straight back and long arching neck an invitation to the whip if ever I saw one. 

'I'm not going to tie you up, Eva, but if you scream I may have to gag you, and if you move, I shall increase the number of strokes – do you understand?'

'Yes, Miss Renata.'

'Good. You will normally be allowed to choose the instrument, but as this is your first time, I have chosen for you. It will be the crop.' 

'Oh Miss Renata, will it hurt a lot?'

'Yes, but you want me to hurt you, don't you?'

'Yes, Miss Renata,' she replied, without hesitation.

'Then tell me so, Eva.'

'Hurt me, Miss Renata, please!'

I took the crop from its place above the bookshelf, and gave it a trial swish, more to heighten the girl's tension than anything, then took aim and with a 'swooosh' of displaced air, then a sharp 'crack,' the cruel crop fell across Eva's white upper back, just below her shoulder-blades.

'Oh' she moaned, but stayed still, as a faint red line was left by the leather.

I flogged her harder, a little lower down, 'crack,' sounded the whip, and she squirmed just a little, involuntarily moving her arms downward just a shade, and moaning a bit louder.

'Be still!' I admonished, and fetched her a much harder lash, now reaching towards the small of her lovely back.

'Ooooaargh,' she moaned, and a distinct red stripe now showed when I looked at my handiwork. She would be proud of a few like that tomorrow.

I thrashed her lower still, now reaching the top of her beautifully rounded buttocks, and Sergio was clearly enjoying the spectacle, as I could see he had a huge erection tenting his trousers.

'Poor darling,' I whispered to him, between strokes, 'never mind, you shall have her later!'

Eva was now writhing at each new stroke, and I sensed she could take only one or two more, for this first time. Her back was now criss-crossed with red lines, rather than deep welts – I hadn't been that severe. I gave her one final good hard slash across the tops of her thighs, which I knew would sting worse than any of the others, and she fell sobbing into my arms, when she knew I was done. 

'Oh Miss Renata,' she said, 'Miss Renata, I don't know what to say.'

'You'll probably want to say goodbye,' I suggested.

'Oh no,' she said, 'oh no. I had two orgasms while you were whipping me, and I....I just don't know what to say.'

'Come,' I said, 'let me rub oil into those stripes, then we'll go and have a drink. Tonight you will sleep with Sergio and myself. Will you like that?'

'Oh Miss Renata,' was all she said.

Later, after we had enjoyed a quiet drink in the bar, and I had satisfied myself that the club had run smoothly on its first night of operation, I left the servants clearing up, and took Eva back up to the suite, where Sergio was already relaxing with a cigar and a cognac. I let her undress me, and slip on my favourite long silk nightgown, then found her a similar one. I knew Sergio liked the feel of them against the skin. We got between the black satin sheets, and Sergio joined us. Now taking great care with Eva's sore back and arse, I took her in my arms, then gently prised her legs apart, pulling the hem of her nightgown up to reveal her mound in the soft light. Sergio, who I knew had been desperately wanting Eva since her whipping, was now drooling with lust for her, and paused only a bare moment to lick her luscious cunt, before he was unable to contain himself any longer. He hauled himself up between her parted legs and thrust his huge shaft – MY shaft! – deep into her drenched depths, as she groaned and bucked , rising with her whole body to become whole with him. It was a beautiful sight, and I couldn't help but admire her youthful untrained capacity to fuck. She drained his very soul, and he came in huge, hot spurts, as she shouted at him – something unintelligible, then she collapsed between us, sobbing.

'I'm sorry, Miss Renata,' she said.

'Don't be sorry, darling,' I told her, 'I'll have you later.'

Then, as an afterthought, I asked her, 'Where is your butt plug, by the way?'

'Oh, Miss Renata, I couldn't keep it in for the whole evening, I'm sorry.'

'Well, you'll have to be punished for that tomorrow, I'm afraid,' I said.

'Mmmm,' she replied.



Renata's Vacation Ch. 06



Eva's education was not yet complete. She had disobeyed me by removing the butt-plug, when I had told her to leave it in place, and I had placed enough trust in her to allow her to sleep with Sergio and myself. Despite the fact that she had been whipped the day before, another, harsher, punishment session was indicated, and, after breakfast, I told her to present herself in the 'library' -- dressed in the appropriate manner. She knew already what that entailed, and when I entered the library, shortly after ten, she was stood there waiting, proudly erect, her young, slender body draped in a long white transparent, lace-trimmed negligee, her ankles and wrists cuffed and chained. Her long black hair was tied up in a French knot -- no doubt helped by Naomi -- as this, too, was a requirement when punishment was due.

'You were let off lightly yesterday, Eva,' I told her, 'but now you must learn to endure real pain. Are you ready?'

'Yes, Miss Renata,' she said, steadily.

I unclipped the chains at her wrists and ankles, leaving her cuffs, with their metal inset rings in place. I untied the cord of her negligee and slipped it off her shoulders. She was almost exactly the same height as I was, but my customary stilettos compared to her bare feet gave me an advantage as I led her by the arm to the green velvet curtain which ran along a part of one wall. When I pulled back the curtain, it revealed not a window, but a St Andrew's cross, with snap-links at its extremities. I quickly clipped Eva's wrists and ankles to these so that she was nicely spread-eagled, facing the wall. I took a good look at her back, running fingers along the lines of the marks that yesterday's whipping had left. They were no more than superficial, and there were not many of them. I noted, with satisfaction, that she had the butt-plug in place. I thought she might benefit from a little lesson, and, going to the sideboard, where all the equipment was kept, I took out a small jar. Eva looked over her shoulder, a faint smile on her lips, as she thought I was going to rub soothing balm into her welts.

I took a small quantity of the contents of the jar and rubbed it into the uppermost wounds, whereupon Eva bucked and howled in agony. It was fine salt, and after three more applications, she begged me to desist. I put the jar away, and strode out of the room, leaving her to suffer for a while.

I went to look for her erstwhile friend Naomi, who had also expressed a burning desire to be trained. I thought she might benefit from seeing her friend punished -- it may well decide her one way or the other. We were still short-handed, and Naomi had now turned eighteen, and was very beautiful, so that she could be considered for a staff position.

I found her in the coffee bar, and led her down to the library, warning her that she may not like what she saw. 

When we entered the library, Eva appeared to have recovered from the pain inflicted by the salt, and when I asked her what implement she chose, she replied haughtily that it was of no concern to her.

Naomi sat, wide-eyed, on a sofa, in her maid's mini-dress, as I selected a long, thin switch, with a leather handle -- my favourite implement.

'I shall give you ten strokes,' I told Eva, 'and you will not cry out. You must count down, and thank me after each stroke. If you fail in any way, more strokes may be added. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Miss Renata.'

I positioned myself behind her and gave a trial swish of the cane, revelling in the sound it made as it displaced the air, then I brought it down with a resounding 'thwack' on Eva's lower back, immediately raising a bright red welt. She gasped, but had the presence of mind to say, 'Ten, thank you, Miss Renata!'

'Good,' I said, and taking aim again, struck her just a shade higher up, slightly crossing the line of the first blow: 'Nine, thank you, Miss Renata!'

Then, 'crack!' a surprise stroke right across her fleshy buttocks, leaving an awful wheal as tiny blood vessels burst. She could hardly suppress a moan, and the cry of 'Eight, thank you Miss Renata!' came out as a more garbled version as she tried to control the pain. 

I carried on, pausing after six strokes to feel her crack, something I always did. She was sopping wet. 'You filthy bitch!' I said, 'I do believe you have cum while I'm whipping you!' 

I turned and smiled at the shocked Naomi as I prepared to give Eva her seventh stroke, and she managed to return a watery grin.

Finally, Eva's torture was over, and I unclipped her from the cross, helped her on with her negligee, and held her for a while. Then I told Naomi to help her back to her rroom, telling her that I didn't need her until the next day. As they went out of the door, I called to Naomi, 'See me at lunchtime, please, my dear.'

Sergio was away visiting the financial director of the Club, so I dined alone, leaving Amity, Martina and Ursula chatting away on another table, whilst Eva, of course, had food sent up to her room. Inge was on her period, so she, too, had taken lunch in her room.

Naomi it was who served me with lunch, and, when she had done so, asked me nervously what it was I wanted her for.

'Last week you asked me about being trained, Naomi.'

'Yes, Miss Renata.'

'After what you saw this morning, do you still want to be trained?'

'Yes, Miss Renata, I do.'

'You like the idea of being whipped?'

'If I must be honest, not very much, but I can endure it,' she said.

'Then why do you want to put yourself through the agony that all the girls must suffer, tell me?' I asked.

She looked at me sheepishly, and said in a low voice, 'Because I am a nymphomaniac. My ex boy-friend caught me fucking his father, and I was lucky he didn't find me the day before with his brother.'

I wasn't too sure now about her qualification for the job, and the doubt must have showed on my face, because she said, 'Don't worry, Miss Renata, I've spoken with Eva -- she tells me I will come to enjoy the pain -- and it will make me cum -- like.....like her.'

I wasn't entirely convinced, but said, 'OK, we'll give you a try -- how about you start tomorrow?'

'Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss Renata,' she said, her eyes lighting up, as she skipped from the room. I watched her go, with certain misgivings. Pretty, she was, with her hair an unusual natural honey blonde, cut shoulder-length. She was lithe and agile, with good proportions, though I suddenly realised I hadn't seen her naked, so I was taking a risk. Before anything else, I had to get her tried out by a man. As Sergio was going to be away for another day or two, I rang Daniel and asked if he'd help out. He agreed readily.

Next morning, Naomi was hovering around my table while I had breakfast, still in her maid's uniform. I smiled and told her to wait while I got one of the other, younger, girls to prepare one of the empty rooms for her. The rooms were 'in mothballs' -- quite ready, but in need of airing and stocking with clothes and bed-linen and so forth from our ample stores. Meanwhile I took her up to my own suite, to have a better look at her.

I sat down on the couch, and told her to strip. She unbuttoned her white cotton blouse and shrugged it off, and then unfastened the waistband of her little black skirt, and let it fall to the floor. She had been prepared, had probably spoken with her friend Eva, because, she wore no underwear, and stood naked but for a pair of black patent heels.

I inspected her and was frankly delighted. Her breasts were tiny, but highly unusual, in that they seemed to consist entirely of aureolas, which jutted out so sharply that I had thought she had been wearing a bra. They were topped by nipples which just begged to be caressed. I did so, and got an immediate response, as they hardened, and Naomi moaned as if I had entered her pussy.

I turned my attention to her pubes. She had shaved carefully, and every vestige of hair was gone from her pussy. When I put my hand between her legs, she gasped aloud, and the wetness there seemed to increase instantly. I withdrew my hand and told her to turn around and bend over. She knew straight away what I wanted, and not only obliged me by bending over, but parted her legs slightly, and spread her arse-cheeks with both hands, so that I might see her anus. I poked an exploratory finger into the dark, cavernous depths of her obviously well-used arsehole, and she murmured with pleasure. I substituted two fingers for one and she wriggled in ecstasy -- it was quite clear that anal sex was no rare experience for my new recruit. 

I took my fingers away and fetched her a resounding slap across the buttock.

'Did I do something wrong, Miss Renata?' she asked.

'No, my dear,' I said, and gave her no further explanation. I dressed her in something more appropriate, a red silk slip with spaghetti straps, and found her a pair of stiletto-heeled sandals, some long silver pendant ear-rings and an anklet to match, then took her down to the bar, where we were to meet Daniel in a few minutes' time. In the silk slip, she looked quite transformed, the jutting firmness off her little breasts thrusting at the thin, soft material. I gave her a critical once-over. 'You'll do,' I said.

We hadn't long to wait in the little Club bar before Daniel appeared, dressed casually. Naomi had seen him around, but hadn't been introduced, so I presented her to him, then we went back up to my suite.

'Do what you like to her, Daniel,' I said, sitting down again on my favourite couch, 'she's all yours.'

'But aren't you going to leave us alone, Miss Renata?' asked Naomi.

'Certainly not,' I retorted, 'I want to see you in action. I don't think Daniel is shy.'

Daniel grinned, and pulled Naomi over to the big bed. Kicking off his moccasins, he jumped up on to the bed, and patted the covers beside him, as you might do to invite a dog to join you.

She joined him readily, however, and tugged impatiently at his zipper, then struggled to release his semi-flaccid cock from his boxers. It was still impressively large, as I knew from first-hand experience. She showed that she was no stranger to the male organ when she licked his circumcised crown with her long tongue, causing him to grow instantly, then nestled closer to him, rubbing the sharpness of her firm young breasts against his rapidly growing erection through the thin silk of her slip. He grunted, and eased the straps off her shoulders, then held her breasts in his hands, marvelling at their highly unusual shape, with their swollen aureola and hard nipples, which seemed to grow further to his touch. She pushed him away and bent to her task, now taking his shaft wholly into her rounded lips, and sucking him, tonguing his glans as she came to the top of each stroke. He moaned his pleasure at her skills, as he pushed up the hem of her slip, revealing her shaven pussy. Obediently, she flung her legs wide apart, and he buried his head in her crack, lapping the length of her pink cunt with his tongue, seeking now her erect little clitoris, now the depths of her warm, wet vagina. Her moans indicated the approach of an orgasm she could do nothing to control, and it soon swept her into a world of pleasure.

But Daniel was looking for his own pleasure, and pulled away, then pushed a pillow under Naomi's arse, making sure she kept her legs wide apart. He took an admiring look at her gaping cunt, then, kneeling between her legs, slowly eased himself inside her, making sure she felt every inch of him as he penetrated her with his enormous rod. She was equal to him, and he felt the pinch of her cunt-muscles as she gripped him expertly.

As she lay back on the bed, her young breasts remained pert and erect, their strange swollen aureola a rampant invitation. I fell on them, and took them in my mouth, teasing their hard tips with my teeth, until she moaned still more, then I threw my leg over her and said, 'Let's see if you eat pussy as well as you eat cock!' 

I let my centre sink onto her waiting mouth, and her tongue immediately found its way into the depths of my cunt. I pulled Daniel towards me ass she did so, and completed the triangle, so that he kissed me while fucking her, and all the while, she was lapping my eager cunt. I came in waves, as I know did Naomi, when she shuddered and let out a mighty gasp, then Daniel cried out that he was about to let go, and I held him as his hard body stiffened and he shot his hot, creamy load deep into Naomi. 

'Oooh,' she groaned, 'I'd like that again, please!'

I looked for an excuse to punish her.

'Naomi,' I said, 'clients must never be subjected to demands. You must learn not to make them. For that, I will see that you are punished this evening. Now go and rest.'

That evening, Martina, Ursula and Amity had been called away to visit clients at a private party at the nearby mansion of a famous singer -- a very lucrative proposition for us, and Inge was still feeling under the weather, so Eva and I ate alone, while Naomi had food sent to her room while she prepared herself for what was to follow. 

We were in the habit of dressing for dinner at the Club, as I liked to keep up a certain standard, and occasionally we would have surprise visits, anyway, so I wore a long black backless velvet gown, whilst Eva looked scintillating in a fishnet tube-dress, through which her rouged nipples jutted provocatively. I told her to show me her back, and, when she turned around, I could plainly see the raised red welts from yesterday's cruel whipping through the wide black mesh of her dress.

'God,' I said, 'you are wasted when we have no clients, Eva, you look wonderful!'

'I'm not wasted if I please you, Miss Renata,' she said, and at that point Naomi appeared, dressed ritually for the first time, in a long white, lace-trimmed negligee, her ankles and wrists cuffed with metal hoops, each shackled together. She was barefoot. She looked very pale, as we made our way to the library, where she was to be punished.

When we got there, I had Eva unfasten her wrist and ankle chains, and strip off the negligee. Her lovely, slim young body was naked before us.

'For you first time, I shall neither tie you up, nor shall I give you a choice of implement,' I told her, 'Now kneel!'

Obediently, she knelt in the centre of the floor.

'Hands at the back of your neck!' I ordered.

I went to the cupboard and fetched a dog-whip, which was a cruel-looking single leather thong, with a handle about eight inches long.

Naomi rolled her eyes at the sight of it.

'What?' I said, 'did you think I was going to use a feather duster? This is designed to hurt you, my dear. You know that, don't you?'

'Yes,' she whimpered, in a tiny voice.

'And you really do want me to hurt you, don't you, Naomi?'

'I-I don't know.'

'But you know that pain brings the true pleasure -- the real ecstasy, don't you?'

'I suppose so,' she said.

'You can say no, and go back to being a maid, if you want,' I said.

'Oh no, Miss Renata, I.....I.....'

'Well, then, it's simple, isn't it? You ask me to whip you -- to hurt you, if that is what you want, if you want to be like the rest of us.'

'Oh, Miss Renata, I want that, I really do, yes.'

'Then beg me for the whip.'

'Please whip me, Miss Renata, hurt me,' she gasped.

I took a pace back and tested my arm, the narrow thong snaking through the air with a sibilant swish. 

Satisfied, I laid a first stroke across Naomi's pale young back, striking her just below the shoulder-blades. She flinched, and gasped, but didn't cry out. I took aim again, and this time put a lot more force into the stroke, lashing her further down. 

'Oh, oh, Miss Renata! That hurt terribly!' she cried, 'it stings so much!'

'Wait till we rub salt in!' said Eva, who was sat on the sofa nearby, toying with her nipples through the mesh of her dress.

'Oh, no!' moaned Naomi, rolling her eyes, and I saw that I had raised a pretty red wheal across her back with my second stroke. The third, with the lash snaking around just above her slim waist, did better still, and, getting the notion, I made sure that the fourth stroke's very tip just crept around to the side of her breast. She cried out sharply at that, and I admonished her for it, and struck her hard across the buttocks, this time leaving a bright red welt. She writhed and started to moan, but I knew that she had passed a threshold, and nodded to Eva, who stood and came up beside her friend, as I threw down the whip.

Eva knelt beside her, and taking her head in her hands, kissed her tears away, then put her hand down to feel Naomi's slit. She looked up at me and smiled knowingly.

'She's wet,' she said, and together we helped Naomi to the sofa. Eva knew her place and eased Naomi's legs apart, while I knelt on the floor before her. Tossing my long dark hair over my shoulder out of the way, I buried my face in my new recruit's warm, moist crack. Her lips were swollen and puffy, and her prominent clitoris had emerged from under its protective hood like a spring bud, and was hard to the touch. When I flicked 

at it with my tongue, she groaned, a quick little animal sound. 

I ran my tongue, then right through her long furrow, from the little bud, between her lips, right down to her arsehole, which I extended with the fingers of both hands, until I could insert my tongue deep into its black cavern. I turned back to Eva, and she knew instantly what I wanted. In seconds, she had fetched me a long blue dildo, which I unceremoniously rammed into Naomi's arsehole.

'Oh, Miss Renata!' she exclaimed, and squirmed in ecstasy at the intrusion, the soreness of her stripes apparently forgotten.

But it was her cunt that now demanded attention. I dived back into her crack, and parted her labia, hands either side, then thrust my tongue deep into her sweet, commodious cunt-hole. 

'Oh, oh, oh!' she cried, 'I'm cumming, I'm cumming!' and she bucked her hips, trapping my head in a vice-like grip between her legs, as she was overtaken by a thunderous orgasm.

That evening, I had never been happier to see Sergio return. He was back from his business trip.

'How's it been?' he asked.

'Come on, let's go to bed!' I said, for an answer.



Renata's Vacation Ch. 07



This fantasy makes more sense if you've read the other six parts first. All my characters are over 18, and so should you be! Sado-masochism is a strong thread running through some of my stories, which are hopefully not over-crude, and tend to emphasise the dominance inferred upon the receiver of the punishment. 

Three months had passed by since Naomi's initiation a tour club, and our team had settled down into a routine, with Ursula handling the most extreme clients, although each of the girls tended to be the favourite of certain clients, Inge and Eva being particularly popular. Naomi took care of what we called 'volume traffic' – sometimes coping with as many as four clients in an evening, whilst Amity, Martina and I tended to concentrate on the clients from 'good families' – who could, however, be quite bestial in their tastes. There were times when I tired of their incessant cruelty, and longed for some tenderness – then I sought some feminine pleasure in the company of Eva, or the insatiable Naomi – but usually I revelled in the whippings I received, often having to try and conceal the fact that I had cum before the client had had the chance to fuck me. More often than not – and the other girls, Ursula especially, confirmed this – the clients were far too lenient, afraid of damaging our tender flesh, however much we begged them to hurt us.

Things were very quiet, between seasons, and I decided to take a holiday. I spoke with Doña Francisca at headquarters.

'Of course, darling,' she said, 'of course you must have a holiday, and why not take one of the girls with you for company? Sergio can take charge for a couple of weeks.'

I had, of course, thought of going away with Sergio, but realised that it would have been impractical to leave the club with no-one in charge – Martina wasn't really ready yet.

My parents had sent me lots of emails asking when I was thinking of coming home, and I had kept stalling them. But the idea of spending a fortnight with them...........! I decided on a compromise, and put it to Eva, who was due to a holiday.

'What do you say we do a little tour together? Would you like that?' I asked her. 

She agreed readily, even when I told her that we were going to start off at my parents' home near London for two nights. For the rest of the fortnight, I availed myself of the addresses of clubs faxed to me by Doña Francisca, where I thought I might pick up some tips which would be useful.

Eva was very excited as Sergio drove us to Almería airport. She had never flown before, and had needed help with choosing her wardrobe for the trip. Not that I was too worried about that, as we planned to give the Club's Gold Card a bit of a hammering, and buy clothes, as well as enjoy ourselves. 

When Sergio kissed us goodbye, the eyes of other men followed us – what on earth are they doing travelling without a man, they were thinking? The truth is, I thought, as we passed a mirror in the VIP departure lounge, we looked good. My long black hair shone, and I wore a tailor-made pale green shot-silk suit, the skirt so tight around my knees that I stretched it to its limit with each small step I took, which somehow enhanced the natural sway of my hips, further accentuated by my four-inch patent stilettos. Under the suit I wore a white silk blouse, and nothing else. My nipples grazed the soft silk, and, when I left my jacket undone, my breasts jiggled suggestively as I walked.

Eva's blonde tresses were also loose, and I had made sure that our relative status was clear from the way she dressed, in a pleated miniskirt, not so short as to draw undue attention to herself, but mid-thigh length. Above that I had made her put on an embroidered peasant cotton blouse. She wore, of course, no underwear either, and also had on a pair of high-heeled sandals.

When we arrived at London's Gatwick airport, Eva was agog at the size of the place, and used her minimal English to resist the advances of the man at the hire-car desk, while I was negotiating for our transport. Eventually my Gold Card won the day, and we were soon driving out into Surrey in our rented Mercedes. My parents' house seemed to have grown smaller in the six months I had been away, but my mother greeted us warmly enough when we entered the cluttered cottage.

'Your father will be home from work any time now,' she said, 'but just look at you! How do you walk in those heels? And that skirt! And where's your bra?'

My mother must have had some sort of a radar system tuned in to my apparel, I thought, and, seeing that Eva had understood, and was grinning, decided to keep the peace. I told her I was going to change into a tracksuit, and asked her to bring the suitcases in – and my mother didn't understand the exchange, of course.

However, when my mother saw Eva struggling in with one suitcase after the other, she voiced her disapproval: 'Power gone to your head, has it, now you're the boss?' 

I refused to be provoked. My mother would never understand in a million years.

When my father came home, I made sure Eva and I were both dressed in tracksuits – I had to find one in an old wardrobe for Eva, causing a lot of giggling – and I managed to make our Club sound like an International Leisure Facility, whatever that meant. 

My mother cooked us a superb meal, which Eva enjoyed immensely, but, when we went to bed, I said, 'I don't know if I can stand it for another day!'

Eva looked across at me in the orange light cast by the street-lamp outside, and said, 'It's only one more night. Got room in there for me?'

I lifted the corner of the duvet, and she slipped soundlessly across the floor in her black silk slip, and slid in, the length of her body so nearly matching mine. The hardness of her nipples, perched on her firm young breasts, thrust against me as she nibbled my ear-lobe, knowing what turned me on, teeth and tongue busy, busy. She thrust her flat belly up to me, and threw a slender leg over mine, as I turned my own naked body to accommodate her. I reached around her lovely round buttock with one arm, finding her moist slit, and causing her to murmur gently into my ear, 'Mmm, Miss Renata – yes!' 

I traversed my fingers up and down her crack, letting them come to rest on the little nub of her clitoris. As I did that, she felt for my breasts, and my nipples hardened in time with her clit. We both started to move rhythmically as she kneaded my tits, and I worked first her clit, then plunged two fingers into her now-soaking cunt. With her other hand, she found my anus, and probed my most sensitive place, as a mist started to form in my brain, and my breathing became shallow. Suddenly, Eva had both of her hands down behind me, and one of them traced the outline of the brand burned into my buttock. 

'Oh, Miss Renata,' she gasped, in a hoarse whisper, 'I'm cumming!'

My body had already been wracked by an orgasm, the moment her finger went deep into my arsehole.

'It's your mark,' said Eva, 'it does that to me. I want to have one done too.'

'We'll have to see what we can do,' I said, and fell asleep, as thoughts of my terribly painful branding brought back delicious memories of my early days at the first Club, of my first punishments by Sergio and Doña Francisca.

A chilly morning saw us sat in the kitchen, again in unaccustomed clothing of jeans and sweat-shirts, nursing steaming cups of tea. We spent the day walking the green lanes near my parents' home, Eva enjoying the cool of the English summer. When my father came home, he wanted to question me about the Mercedes I had rented, but I just told him that the company had paid the bill, and he nodded sagely.

'Best he doesn't see you in the clothes you arrived in,' my mother said, when he wasn't in the room, 'or I really don't know what he'll say!' Her sour expression told me that she, too, had a low opinion of her only daughter's chosen career, and I was again grateful that we were leaving next day.

In the event, I was a little sad to leave my mother's desolate figure, stood at the door, as we got into the car early in the morning. My father had already gone to work, off to catch the 6.45 into the City, so we felt able to leave dressed in more customary fashion. I wore a knee-length pleated skirt over a garter belt, shiny stockings and patent heels, with one of my favourite white silk blouses. In deference to my mother, I had worn a bra, but it was a platform half-bra, leaving my nipples free to poke at the silk of the blouse. If my mother noticed, she didn't say. Eva wore a button-through cotton print dress, mid-thigh length, and stilettos. I knew she wore nothing else, but her breasts were so firm that the lack of a bra was never noticeable in her case.

We were bound for the West End, one of the addresses that Doña Francisca had furnished me with, but I decided to leave the rented car at Heathrow airport, as it would be useless in London. We left it with the rental company, and took a taxi to our Kensington hotel, where we installed ourselves in our suite before making for our destination.

After a quick lunch, we arrived at the Soho offices of the world's most important BDSM magazine, where the editorial team was expecting us. They were an odd mixture of people in business suits and Goth types with punk hairdos and piercings. The boss, one of the more casual-looking guys, led the discussion, telling me that they had heard a great deal about our Club, and would like to come out and do a major article about us.

'As a bit of a taster, though,' he said, 'I'd like to get some shots of you two today, for our next issue. I think that would certainly hook the readers in. How do you feel about that?'

I saw no need to translate for Eva, though she understood nothing. I saw a lot of business potential in the publicity an article would generate, so I said I thought it was a good idea. We discussed details over coffees. I asked if we needed any special clothing or make-up, and the photographer, a Goth girl with a ring through her eyebrow and orange hair, said they had everything we should need for the shoot. She ushered us down to the small dressing room. She looked us up and down, and her comment was lost on Eva, who, however, understood the whistle her magnificent body earned when she slipped out of her dress.

'Fuck, she's gorgeous,' said the girl, 'and you're pretty good yourself!'

She laid me out a black corset and thigh-length, spike-heeled boots.

'And for Eva?' I asked.

'Naked,' she replied.

'Shoes as well?'

'Yep,' she said, succinctly.

I got Eva to lace me up tight into the corset, which bit into my waist, and thrust my bare buttocks out provocatively, as well as pushing my breasts out and up, so that my nipples were above vertical.

The Goth looked me over as we emerged into the harsh lights of the studio. 'Mmmm,' she murmured, 'nice! I'm Cindy, by the way.'

Eva, not at all embarrassed by her nakedness, stepped out beside me, and Cindy swept aside a black curtain, revealing a St. Andrews Cross, like the one we had at the Club, with cuffs dangling from its extremities. Deftly, she clipped Eva into place, so that she was spread-eagled, her back to us, her arms reaching way above her head. Cindy gathered up Eva's long blonde hair and quite gently lifted it over her shoulder, brushing her breast in a manner that was hardly accidental in the process.

She smiled crookedly at me, and fetched a tray from a table nearby. It contained a variety of whips and paddles.

'What do you want me to use?' I asked, 'Eva is used to anything.'

'It doesn't matter. But the photo needs to show a real mark, if that's no problem. And one of the guys wants to watch. That OK?'

'Sure,' I said. 

She picked up an intercom and spoke quietly into it, and a few seconds later, a door opened and one of the suited guys, a nice-looking young blond guy came in and sat down on a stool.

I walked up to Eva and spoke briefly to her in Spanish, telling her I had to whip her for the camera, and asking her if she minded.

'Of course not Miss Renata,' she said.

'I'll give you two with a paddle to warm you up,' I told her, and then I'll mark you with the switch.'

'Oh yes, please, Miss Renata.'

I took the thin leather paddle, and tested its weight. It made a satisfying swish through the air. I checked that Cindy was ready with her camera, and noted that the young guy sat by the side was breathing heavily as I struck Eva hard across her upper buttocks, reddening her pale flesh prettily. She squirmed just a little, but made no sound. I thrashed her again, lower down, and again and again immediately, still lower, until her whole arse was nicely red. She moaned softly.

'Ready, Cindy,' I called, 'I'm taking the switch to her now! Where do you want me to mark her? Lower back looks pretty.' 

'That'll be alright,' she said.

As I reached for the long, cruel switch, I passed close to the young blond guy, and he was sweating profusely and his mouth was open. I couldn't resist patting the tented front of his trousers, drawing a groan from him. 

I again approached Eva closely.

'I'm going to hurt you now, darling,' I said.

'Oh yes, please, Miss Renata,' she said, and I kissed my hand and applied it to her lips, then felt her pussy to see how damp she was. She was very wet.

I took the long switch, looked over my shoulder at Cindy, who nodded, and took aim. The instrument whistled fiercely through the air then there was a sharp crack as it came into contact with Eva's young tender flesh, bringing up an instant red wheal right across the width of her back. 

'Oh, oh,' she cried, and I knew I had hurt her, but also that she was being transported to another level, a level where pain and ecstasy entwine. I looked at Cindy, and she was still taking shots, getting a record of the red line on Eva's back. When my glance took in the blond guy, he was shuffling off his stool, a dark stain forming down his trouser-leg. The sight had been too much for him! 

When we were dressed again, and went back to the conference room, Cindy pronounced herself happy with the shots she had got. Once I had arranged for the team to visit us at our Club a couple of months later, I had one further item to attend to. I took the boss on one side and drew as close an approximation as I could of my brand for him, and asked him to fax it through to his associates in Frankfurt, where I knew a similar brand could be obtained for Eva.

I was secretive about what I had been doing, as we went back to the hotel, but Eva was just happy to be in London with me, and didn't press the point. I was, in any case, just a touch pissed off with her, at that moment. She had quite obviously cum when she had been whipped, without seeking my permission – a normal convention we had. She knew she would be punished for her transgression, but not how.

We dined in silence in the hotel dining room, then, back in our suite, I told Eva to dress in a pale blue Lurex mini-dress, which fitted her like a glove, showing off her slim body as if she were naked. The hem was barely four inches below her shaven pussy, and all she wore besides was a pair of stiletto-heeled sandals. I helped her brush her hair out, so that she had a golden mane down to her waist.

'You look a perfect slut!' I told her, as she completed her make-up. It was hardly fair – she looked gorgeous. 'Now go down to the hotel lobby, and pick up a man - not too young – and bring him back here!'

'But.....but, Miss Renata, I don't speak any English!'

'That, my dear, shouldn't be a problem. Now go!' 

Looking back with trepidation over her shoulder, she left the room, whilst I sat, implacable, on the couch, but as soon as she had gone, I slipped out of my clothes and cinched a heavy silver chain around my waist, clipped in matching long pendant ear-rings, took care with my make-up and put on a long, transparent black negligee, preparing myself for sex. I also fished a pair of handcuffs from my bag and placed them ready. There was nothing to do now but wait. 

I clicked off the television when I heard Eva using her key-card to open the door, and stood as she entered, with her conquest in tow.

'Where did you find that?' I asked her, as she was followed by a large man in his early sixties, with a slight paunch, thinning, greying hair, and glasses, wearing an off-the-peg suit.

'You did say not too young,' she said.

'Christ, there are limits,' I told her, and realised with a shock that the man's grey eyes were moving from one to the other of us, not just looking at my almost naked body, but taking in our conversation. I somehow knew he understood Spanish, despite his entirely English appearance.

'I'll go if you want,' he said quietly, a slight Yorkshire accent evident.

There was something about his voice which arrested me, though, and I said, 'No, please, stay. Help yourself to a drink, while I deal with this young lady.'

I indicated the tray of drinks and he poured himself a Scotch while I picked up the cuffs, and caught hold of Eva by a wrist. I pulled her to the circular column which stood at the side of the two steps up to the bed-alcove, and cuffed her firmly to it, her arms behind her.

Then I sat back on the satin covers of the huge bed, spreading the negligee out beside me, and slowly parting my legs, so that the newcomer could see my pussy.

'What's your name?' I asked him.

'Stewart,' he said, ' and I don't do this kind of thing, I was just............'

'Don't talk, Stewart,' I said, 'except to tell me if you would like to fuck me.'

'I rather think I would,' he replied, slightly ironically, 'but I'd like to use your bathroom first.' 

'On the right,' I said, thinking he was a cooler customer than he looked, as he disappeared through the door.

Eva wriggled about against the column to which she was bound, and pleaded with me to let her go.

'When I'm ready,' I told her, 'first you can watch for a while!'

The bathroom door opened and Stewart came in, wearing a white towelling robe he had found hanging behind the door. His hair slicked back, now without glasses, once-powerfully-muscled legs projecting below the robe, he looked different, and he regarded me hungrily, I thought, then glanced back at Eva, who was looking on resignedly, her lovely blonde hair falling around her pretty face.

I lowered a hand to my pussy, and, using the first two fingers, spread my labia, displaying the moist pinkness of my cunt. I parted my legs wider, knowing that the action resulted in a view of the mysterious dark cavern of my vagina, irresistible to a red-blooded man. I heard Eva gasp a little, also affected by the sight of my cunt.

Stewart approached the bed, and, when he was within reach, I felt for the tasselled cord of his robe, and dragged it open, revealing an impressive, circumcised erection.

'Oh, my,' I said, 'you want me, don't you, Stewart?'

I rose from my prone position, and took the tip of his slightly curved tool gently between my lips, teasing the tip with my tongue, looking up into his grey eyes, which closed in ecstasy when I took a few centimetres more of his stiff length into the softness of my mouth, sucking hard. Simultaneously, he reached down for my breasts, and kneaded them, cupping them both with a tenderness which matched my own treatment of his mature weapon. Then he wanted more, and pushed me gently back on the pillow, climbing up between my legs. 

Putting his hands against the insides of my thighs, he spread my legs wider still, until my crack was completely offered to him, then he speared me, penetrating my eager, hot, waiting cunt in one mighty thrust which took him straight to the neck of my womb.

I shouted out, 'Oh, Stewart! Fuck! You are fucking great! Fuck me. Fuck me hard!' 

He responded, driving in and out with a rhythm which was at the same time gentle and violent. I heard Eva moan above the groaning that both myself and Stewart shared, and felt a much-needed climax building within me. I gripped him with my vaginal muscles as its force took me by storm, and cried out, an animal noise, which I thought would be sure to make Stewart cum too.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 07



But he had the control that age brings, and I knew I was due for more.

I 'came down' and he was still rock-hard, so I eased him out of me, pushing him gently away, then reached behind me for the spare pillow, which I whirled around and rammed under my arse, levering my hips up, and bringing my knees up, so that my arse was presented to him. I reached both hands beneath my buttocks, and pulled my cheeks apart, as Stewart knelt between my knees. The black tunnel of my anus was an open invitation for his still-hard rod, and no further beckoning was required. The secretions from my vagina had coated his cock sufficiently that he needed no lubricant, and after the first delicious agony of the entry of his knob into the portals of my arsehole, his whole length slid smoothly into my velvet sheath, which fitted him like a car's piston fits its cylinder. He groaned with pleasure as my peristaltic muscles exported him into another world, drawing him ever closer to the orgasm he now desperately had to have. 

I raked his back with my long nails as he combined pumping my anus with tweaking my clitoris between a thumb and forefinger.

'Oh, Stewart, cum, now, cum, you bastard!' I yelled, and came myself, the second time in minutes, as he stiffened and shot his hot load of very liquid spunk deep into my bowels.

He lay for a few moments, to recover, then went to clean up and dress.

'Thank you,' he said, almost formally, when he emerged, then he turned to the still bound Eva, and said, in faultless Spanish, 'Espero que no te castiga demasiado, nena. Gracias por llevarme' (I hope you're not punished too heavily, babe. Thanks for bringing me.) 

We both watched him open-mouthed as he left the suite, then burst out laughing. I unfastened Eva's cuffs, and she joined me on the bed, where I unzipped her dress, and we made gentle love until the early hours.

We spent the next day shopping in the West End's best stores, until I feared we had bought more than we should be able to take with us, but many of the things we purchased were filmy, transparent garments, fine lingerie and jewellery, so when we returned to the hotel, we found there had been no need to worry. 

The next day we flew to Amsterdam, where we had various visits lined up. First of all I picked up a rental car, another nice Mercedes, and then we drove into the city, and parked as close as we could to the throbbing vice area. I wanted to buy some equipment I couldn't get anywhere else, and soon found the specialist shop I was looking for. I quickly chose a good selection of whips, paddles and floggers, together with cuffs, ankle restraints, spreader-bars and gags. Eva admired some particularly vicious-looking corsets, and I bought two of these, as well as a variety of nipple-clamps. But the piece de resistance was a variation on the vaulting horse, which had a dildo protruding from it, which could be adjusted as to length and thickness, and even doubled up, so that the incumbent could be doubly-penetrated. As I was arranging to have one sent to the Club, the salesman, a go-ahead young man, suddenly mentioned that he had another line which may interest me, and produced a dining chair, similarly equipped.

'What about a set of four?' he asked, and I thought of a dinner party at the Club, and nodded my agreement with a smile.

Our next appointment in Amsterdam was to see a young American woman who wanted to come and work for us. She had written to say she was working in a sex club in Amsterdam, and had heard all about our place from a client. She said she was desperate to change her job. I liked her photo, and thought I'd take a look at her at work, without her knowledge.

I wondered if Eva and myself would stand out in the sex club, but when we took our seats, we saw we were not the only young women sat at tables in the luxurious surroundings of the club, one of the best ones in the city, with very high admission charges. Drinks were served by a waitress wearing next to nothing, and prices were in inverse ratio to the clothing. 

The lights dimmed, and a statuesque and very black girl in a startlingly white teddy, panties, stockings and stilettos came onto the slowly revolving stage. She danced around a bit to one number, liberating pointed tits from her teddy, and playing about with her nipples, licking them with a prehensile tongue. Then the music changed, and she sat on an upholstered couch, and slowly slid off her white panties. Teasingly, she ran fingers through her slit, then swung her long legs around, and spread them wide, giving the audience a good look at her pink pussy each time the stage came around. She athletically threw her legs way above her head, and, putting both hands between them, pulled her labia far apart, exposing the full beauty of her cunt for all to see. Then, letting her feet come back down to the couch, she picked up a massive blue dildo which had been on the floor beside it, playing with it, sucking it, showing it to everyone, before plunging it deep into her cunt. 

She fucked herself with the monster for some time, either having an orgasm, or simulating one pretty well, then she threw the dildo to the floor as the music changed to a stronger beat. A voice-over announced, in four languages, that it was time for the first audience participation of the evening, and that Mandy would be coming around to 'relieve' anyone who needed her services. One of the languages wasn't Spanish, so I translated for Eva, as 'Mandy,' now wearing long white gloves, but otherwise unchanged in her teddy and stockings, stepped down off the stage, followed now by a pretty little Chinese girl in a black mini-dress and stilettos, carrying a box of tissues and a bucket. Instantly a dozen men's hands went up, and Mandy went to the nearest one, aa florid man in his fifties. The spotlight followed her as she sat in his lap, and the microphone picked up her broken English: 'Ooh, what a big boy!' 

The audience laughed and applauded as Mandy dropped to her knees, deftly pulled out the man's rampant erection, stroked it expertly a few times, and then made sure that her Asian companion caught his cum with equal expertise, and rapidly wiped him clean. She repeated this a dozen times, amid much hilarity from the friends of the various 'victims.' It was a slick act.

There were several short striptease acts after that, all quite good, and an artistic live sex act, which was not so good, in that it was too obviously simulated, then we had an interval, during which a reasonably good meal was served.

'I hope this is going to be worth waiting for, after all this,' I said to Eva, as we finished our coffee.

Dimming lights announced the restart, and the act we had waited for. On to the stage came the young American girl, Jessica, a twenty-year-old from California, and she looked every inch Californian, with chestnut hair just more than shoulder-length, a superb complexion and perfect figure.

She was dressed in what appeared to be the 'uniform' – a teddy, though black this time, with matching panties, stockings and stilettos. She danced around to the first number, like her predecessor, levering heavy breasts out of the top of her teddy, and causing a good deal of commotion when she descended from the stage and enveloped the bald head of a nearby spectator in her ample cleavage.

Back on stage to coincide with a change to slow, sensual tempo, she sat on the couch, and eased off her white silk panties, to reveal a pink slit with a large gold ring dangling from her clitoris-hood, from which hung a chain some three inches long. The spotlight picked up the glint of a stone set in a clasp at the end of it. Jessica played with this for a while, rubbing it around her puffy labia, and, legs wide apart, thrust first two, then three fingers, deep into her cunt. Spinning athletically around, she now knelt on the couch, and spread her arse cheeks as wide as she could, then picked up a string of green plastic balls, the size of ping-pong balls, from the surface of the couch. Under the spotlight, she showed them to the audience, and then started to feed them, one-by-one, into her anus, which seemed to suck them into its waiting maw like a venus flytrap. There were five balls on the string, and Jessica fed them in and then pulled them out, with maximum drama, probably faking most of the ecstasy they gave her well-used arsehole.

After this, she threw the toy aside, and a drum-roll announced the main event of her evening. Men who were so inclined had previously purchased tickets for a lottery, and now it was to be drawn. The pretty Chinese girl came out on stage, with an old-fashioned top-hat, and held it for Jessica to take out a ticket. When she had done so, and the number was announced, there was a big shout from somewhere behind us, and a thin guy in his forties came dashing down the aisle, amidst a mixture of whistles, jeers and applause. The Chinese girl took him by the hand and led him away through a door backstage, and music played. Jessica meanwhile got to her feet and did another slow, sensuous dance. She was good – I wanted her myself, and wondered briefly what it would be like to whip her. I thought her body would look lovely with some stripes, especially as she herself had written to me, expressing an interest in coming to work for us. I wondered if, like me, she needed to be hurt and humiliated, to feel the agony that leads to ecstasy. 

Another change of music fetched me out of my reverie, and the Chinese girl led the guy out on to the stage, now dressed in a maroon dressing-gown. He approached Jessica, who sidled up to him, and rubbed her body against him in a wonderful, slow, caress. She wriggled and squirmed her way right down his body, until her face was level with his penis, which now stood out rigidly through the join in his dressing gown. She took him in both hands, skilfully making him look bigger than he was, for the audience's benefit, then took him briefly in her mouth, earning a round of applause as she sucked him and licked his length. Deftly, she produced a condom from the pocket of his dressing gown, and, using her mouth, slipped it on to his weapon, almost before anyone had realised what she was doing.

Lithely, she led him to the couch, and knelt down in front of it, spreading her arse-cheeks wide with both hands. The dark tunnel of her anus was an open invitation, as she looked back over her shoulder, her tongue jutting out slightly between her white teeth in a lewd expression of desire. He was wild with passion for her, and wanted her as he had never wanted a woman in his life. He blotted out the audience effectively – his need over-rode all that, and drove his weapon into her arsehole, not caring if it hurt him or not. It didn't – hers was a velvet sheath, which caressed him, and drew him deep into her, and....and, oh, Christ! He just didn't give a fuck about the audience, or anything, as he thrust against her pulsing arse one last time, almost lost consciousness, and spurted, long, and hot, deep within her.

He pulled out, and dragged off the wretched condom, as the audience clapped. Erik stood there, feeling shagged out and foolish, until the Chinese girl came and rescued him, escorting him off to change. 

There was another act to come, but I'd seen all I wanted to, and just wanted to talk with Jessica, which would have to wait until after the show. I took Eva for a drink.

We were waiting at the stage door when Jessica emerged, big sunglasses on despite the darkness.

I approached her.

'Hi, Jessica!'

'Hello,' she said, 'you're not a randy male, and you don't look like a butch dyke, either, but I'm bushed right now, so I don't wanna talk, right?'

'Good speech you've prepared,' I said, 'but I'm Renata, from Spain – you wrote me last week.'

'Oh shit,' she said, 'and now I've put my fucking great foot in it, and blown it. Oh shit!'

'Come on,' I said, 'if you're not too tired for a quiet drink, that is?'

She looked thoroughly embarrassed, but tagged along, and we found a quiet café, where I told her more about our Club. She listened, her interest growing as I told her about our dress-code, and a little about our clients. My impression was that, in line with the tone of her letter, she was fascinated with the concept of punishment – whether she would enjoy its physical aspects remained to be seen. I put this to her, and she looked at me almost imploringly as she asked me to let her have the chance.

'I'm all excited just thinking about it,' she said, 'it's what I've dreamed about for a long time.'

In the end, I gave her my card, told her to give notice to her current employer, and email me when she had a starting date. Then I would send her travel arrangements. She looked overjoyed, and virtually skipped out of the café.

Next morning, we were due to leave for France, and I had a fairly long drive ahead. We didn't check out until around ten, and it was almost ten-thirty by the time I was driving out onto the motorway south, through the featureless Low Countries, with Eva trying her best to navigate beside me.

Our destination was a chateau in Northeast France, close to Sedan, the owner being a close friend of Doña Francisca, and distantly related to Mario, the owner of my Club. We had been invited to spend 'a few nights' there, which made me nervous, but Doña Francisca told me that the owner, le Comte d'Issoire, was an 'indulgent gentleman,' who surrounded himself every summer with some of the most beautiful people in, and out of, Europe. My curiosity was piqued, and Eva couldn't believe she was going to stay at the castle of a real, live Count.

'We're not, if you can't fucking well find it!' I told her, as she turned the map upside down for perhaps the fourth time. It was getting dark, and the forests seemed to close in on us. Then, all of a sudden, I spotted a rusty iron sign, pointing to the chateau, half-hidden by an overgrown bush. We turned down a rutted track, and bumped along for two kilometres, when it opened out to a huge vista of lawns and a lake, with a great, grey mansion standing four-square in front of us, rows of vehicles parked outside.

Nobody came out to meet us as we unloaded our cases, and we wheeled them up a ramp to the massive double door, where I pulled an old-fashioned bell-rope.

After a moment, a Judas door opened in the main door, and a uniformed manservant came apologetically to help us in.

'You will be Miss Renata!' he said, in English, 'I expected you earlier. I am sorry the Master and Mistress are not here to greet you. They are dressing for dinner, you see.'

He trundled my huge case in and a young girl, in maid's uniform, appeared to take Eva's luggage.

The servant said, 'I am Jean-Pierre, and am at your service, but Marianne here will attend to most of your needs. We'll see you to your rooms, and then perhaps you would like to prepare for dinner? We dine at eight.'

I glanced at my watch. It was already seven-fifteen, which left us very little time to unpack, let alone change, and look our best. Jean-Pierre saw my concern. 

'You don't need to unpack,' he said, 'Marianne will see to that. Just get out what you wish to wear, and attend to your toilette.' He spoke in rapid French to the maid, who nodded subserviently.

'OK,' I said, not really liking the fact I was being pushed around a bit, ' what do you suggest we wear?'

'Ah, Madam,' he said, 'I should say definitely long. And, if I may so remark, it will not be difficult for either of you to achieve elegance. May I also say that most of our lady guests tend towards the provocative. I trust that is helpful, madam.'

'Most helpful, Jean-Pierre, thank you,' I said, and translated for Eva. 

We were taken to adjoining rooms, rather stately and old-fashioned, but with en-suite bathrooms, perfectly equipped, and both with huge four-poster beds and views out over vast lawns and formal gardens. I thought I could well stand this for a few nights. While the maid Marianne hustled around hanging up cloths in a massive ok wardrobe, I chose a favourite long grey silk halter-neck gown, with a tight skirt. The top allowed my breasts enough movement to strike the 'provocative' note Jean-Pierre had mentioned, and I quickly pinned up my long black hair in an attempt at elegance. I wore long silver drop ear-rings and silver stilettos with metallic heels. Next door, Eva was in a quandary, so I helped her choose. Her young body looked good in almost anything, but her blonde hair was particularly suited to black. I picked out for her a form-hugging long black lace dress she had brought. At the club, she might have gone naked under it, but here we knew no-one, and I suggested a black half bra, over which a half-moon of her auroelas showed tantalisingly, and tiny black lace panties, tied at the sides with huge red ribbons. When she wriggled into the tight dress, the effect was terrific – the bra showing interestingly through the lace, and the red ribbons an invitation to divest her of the panties. I told her to leave her hair loose, then stood back to look at her.

'I just want to fuck you myself,' I told her, 'you look stunning, Eva!'

'Oh, Miss Renata,' she said, 'but you are so very beautiful – I could never be as elegant as you.'

'Come on,' I said, looking at the time, 'we'd better go and face the music.'

Hand-in-hand, we negotiated the long corridor to the entrance hall, and followed the sound of voices, through double doors, into an enormous banqueting hall.

With ten minutes to go to dinnertime, people were milling around, and the hostess, whom I knew from a photo Doña Francisca had shown me came over to greet us effusively. Jean-Pierre had been quite right! She was dressed in a sheath of white silk, into which her curvaceous body appeared to have been poured. It covered her from neck to floor, complete with long sleeves, but she couldn't have been wearing a stitch under it, so tightly did it mould her and caress her. She had short black hair and sparkling dark eyes, and might have been anywhere between thirty five and fifty five. She told us to address her as Fifi, though I knew her to be la Comtesse d'Issoire, and she whisked us off to introduce us to so many people that I didn't stand a chance of remembering them all. Nearly all the women seemed to be beautiful, and they were, without exception, sexily attired. Many of the men, by contrast, were older, but two or three, in particular, were extremely dishy, and I thought Eva was about to faint when she was presented to the son of the Count, whose name was Robert, and whose blue eyes undressed her unashamedly. His sister, Monique, who stood beside him, was equally impressive, darkly beautiful, wearing a fishnet tube-dress and nothing else, and parading her body with arrogant haughtiness. She made me think, as did any such young woman, of what a joy it would be to see her writhing and struggling, bound and begging for mercy from my cruel whip. She saw me looking at her, and lowered her eyelids in a look of recognition, of awareness that I had seen her sexuality. In that look that passed between us I knew we should meet.

Fifi introduced me to her husband, the Count, distinguished and sixtyish, with greying hair and little English, then to a whole host of guests, the men in dinner jackets, the women in a vast range of exotic evening wear, from almost completely transparent harem pyjamas, to the most expensive Versace backless creations. One young woman wore a stunning black velvet dress that was really two halves, joined only by a gold clasp at the waist, demonstrating quite clearly that she wore nothing underneath. Many had transparent tops, whilst many others had skirts slit to the waist, revealing either tiny thongs or nothing at all.

Perhaps forty people sat down at the great table, and dinner was served by the uniformed servants – I counted five of them in all, and no sign of either Jean-Pierre or Marianne, leading me to wonder just how many staff they employed.




Renata's Vacation Ch. 07



After dinner, the Count stood and gave a short speech, in French, English and German, introducing me and Eva, as 'friends of Francisca, who many of you will know' then announcing his 'little diversions,' which were to follow.

First of all, he said, a male member of his staff would circulate under the table, 'attending to' female guests. The first one, who, in his judgement, made it obvious by her facial expression, that she was the object of his attention, would have to pay a forfeit, of an 'interesting nature.' A similar game would follow for the male guests. There was much laughter from those in the know, and a guy, who made yet another servant I hadn't seen before, a darkly handsome muscular youth of about twenty wearing an athletic vest and shorts, came in from a side door, shook hands with the Count, then slipped easily under the heavy white tablecloth. Someone turned up the music, and modern jazz played soothingly. I looked around all the women's faces around the table, but they all looked implacable, some smoking, others chatting to neighbours, others sipping drinks. I relaxed and picked up my own glass of cassis.

Suddenly I was aware of a hand making its way slowly up my leg. At first I thought it was the German industrialist sat to my right, and glanced in his direction, but he was engrossed in lighting a cigar, and I realised I was 'in the game,' as it were. The hand slid smoothly under the silk of my dress, pausing to caress my knee, then up my thigh, up, up, so slowly, encountering no obstacle in the form of underwear, to the crease at the top of my thigh, which it traced, slowing still more, teasing me, trying to make me change my expression. I took a slow drag at my drink to mask my accelerated breathing when two fingers were plunged deep into my cunt, and I involuntarily moved my legs closer together, momentarily trapping the hand, then releasing it. My neighbour at the other side, a young English guy who did something with stocks and shares, was asking me what I did for a living, and I was grateful for this covering conversation, as the hand desisted, and moved off in search of another victim.

Again I saw no sign of even the flickering of an eyelid, and everyone seemed expert at the game. 

But then, just when I thought the game was about to end in failure, our host let out a triumphant cry, and pointed to a pretty girl with shoulder-length brown hair sat across from me. 

'You had your eyes closed!' he shouted, in French, and she had an unmistakeable look of guilt.

'Your punishment will be immediate, Nadine,' said the Count, getting to his feet, and walking around behind her.

She looked up at him, but her look was difficult to read, combining fear and, perhaps, lust. She was wearing, like me, a dress with a halter-neck, and le Comte took hold of the ties that secured it at her neck, and flipped them undone, allowing the front of her dress to fall to the table, which revealed a pair of nice, pointed young breasts, nipples standing out sharply at their tips. He cupped them in his large, hairy hands, then, taking his right hand away, fished a small box out of the pocket of his tuxedo. He placed it on the table, opened it, and removed a pair of what I instantly recognised as gold nipple clamps, connected by a fine gold chain. He clipped them in place, causing Nadine to purse her lips and utter a small 'ooh', then, returning to them in turn, screwed them down hard, making her cry out sharply.

'There,' he said, as he returned to his place, 'now everyone can enjoy your pain – and your pleasure!'

He snapped his fingers, and Marianne appeared, now looking very different from when I had seen her before, dressed in transparent baby-doll pyjamas and high-heeled mules. It was obviously her job to try to arouse one of the men, and, at another signal from the Count, amidst some hilarity, she slid under the table. The music was turned up again, and I exchanged smiles with Eva, as she took her eyes, for a moment, off the Count's son, Robert.

I watched the impassive faces of the men, smoking their cigars, for signs of arousal, but could detect none, and again was beginning to lose interest when I heard the Count exclaim, 'Jawohl, Herr Schmidt!'

He had caught my neighbour, whom I had been unable to see, and who looked cutely embarrassed, but was not going to be shamed by his host. The Count had prepared a divan beside the table, and he now had Marianne position herself on it, a cushion under her pretty little arse, so that Herr Schmidt could kneel between her legs, in full view of everyone, and fuck her.

'Is that my punishment?' he roared, delighted.

'It's a part of it,' said the Count, as Schmidt dropped his trousers, revealing a mighty erection.

With an animal grunt, he speared the servant-girl's waiting vagina, and the Count gave another signal, this time to his wife, Fifi. She smilingly walked around behind the German's pumping, hairy arse, concealing something behind her back. Without ceremony, she whipped an enormous black dildo from behind her, and rammed it straight up the German's rectum. He howled in agony, and simultaneously shot his load, well before it had been his intention, deep into Marianne's well.

'Scheiss,' he yelled, and rushed out of the room, with considerable loss of dignity, his trousers around his ankles, amidst much laughter.

We were tired out that night, and went to bed after the 'entertainment' – though Eva ranted on about Robert as we made our way upstairs. I, for one, slept well, and woke to a fine morning and Marianne, apparently none the worse for her evening exploit, bringing in our breakfast trays.

We spent a quiet day walking around the grounds of the chateau, and swimming in the heated pool we found. When it came around to dinnertime, I dressed in a gold backless gown I had bought in London. It allowed my breasts to move freely when I walked, my nipples showing through the thin material. I had Eva put my hair up in an elaborate French twist, and put in outrageously long gold ear-rings. For her, I chose a long scarlet silk dress with spaghetti-straps, which was completely translucent. I told her to be sure to stand against a light-source if she wanted to be noticed, and she grinned. She clipped a heavy silver chain around her waist, and put silver bracelets and amulets around her arms and wrists. As an afterthought, I put her on a broad silver collar.

Whilst we were taking cocktails, I asked Fifi, who again wore a long sheath-dress, but this time a blue one, if we were in for entertainment again.

'Oh no, my dear,' she said, 'in fact, Monsieur le Comte and myself were rather hoping you would both join us after dinner for a quiet drink?'

'We'd be delighted,' I said, glancing at Eva, who hadn't understood a word.

Dinner was a formal affair again, the German at my side noticeably subdued, and then everybody went either to the library, which served as a bar, or for a stroll in the moonlight on the chateau's terrace. Eva and I were ushered into a big, comfortable, modern sitting room, where the Count and, to Eva's obvious delight, his son Robert, were already seated on two of the five or six sofas scattered around.

To my surprise, the Count addressed Eva in perfect Spanish: 'My son would like to show you around his private quarters, my dear, if you have no objection?'

I thought she was going to have a seizure, but she had the presence of mind to simply say, 'Yes, I would like that,' allow the handsome young chap to take her arm, and guide her from the room.

Once they were gone, Fifi offered me a drink, and I asked for a Scotch. She got me one, and sat beside me on the sofa, across from her husband. We sat for a while discussing my Club, but Fifi was interested in me in a more physical sense, of that I was in no doubt. There was a chemistry at work here.

'Francisca has told me much about you,' she said, and she licked her lips as she said it, leaving me in little doubt as to the nature of that conversation.

Her hand was on my knee, and I made no move to remove it. She was a very attractive woman, after all, and there was something about the Count, too.

'She says you are receptive to a little.....what shall we say? Punishment?'

'Did she now?' I said, teasing her gently, 'I wonder where she got that idea?'

'Come, my dear,' said the Count, in his deep voice, 'let's not beat about the bush. Renata would like to be whipped, I'm sure, wouldn't you, my dear?'

'Yes, Monsieur le Comte,' I said, 'I'd like that very much.'

'We'll get you ready then,' he said, getting to his feet. Fifi stood to, and pulled me out of the sofa.

'But you're unmarked, darling,' she said, looking at my bare back.

'I haven't been whipped for a while,' I said, and felt the familiar anticipation build up in me, the wetness between my legs as I thought about the delicious pain which ought to follow. 

I reached down my flank and unzipped my dress, letting it fall to the floor in a whisper 

of soft material.

'Oh, my, you are so very beautiful,' said Fifi, and traced the deep brand on my buttock with her forefinger, 'and this is gorgeous!'

Meanwhile, the Count was fetching a remote control, like that of a television set, from a drawer. He pressed a button, there was a whirring sound, and when I looked up, I saw that two chains were descending from the high ceiling, each with wide wrist-restraints at their ends. There was a click as they reached the height required, and Fifi led me to a point under them, and had me raise my arms so that my wrists could be inserted in thee restraints. The Count, who was much taller than I, clicked the restraints closed, and I was suspended, so that it was only thanks to my stilettos that I was in contact with the ground.

'Doesn't she look lovely like that?' said the Count, admiringly, and Fifi felt my crack as he said it.

'Mmm,' she said, 'wet through, she really does want to be whipped, don't you darling?'

'Oh yes, please,' I said, and, by now, I really did.

The Count was behind me again. 

'I think I'll warm her up a little to start with,' he said, and without preliminaries, there was a swish through the air and 'crack!' as I felt the heat of the leather paddle as it struck the middle of my right buttock. Then 'crack!' harder this time, on the other side, and I knew he was reddening the soft, tender flesh of my inviting arse. He gave me six , probably as hard as he could, between the crease of the tops of my thighs and the top of my buttocks.

'That's nice and red, now, don't you think, darling?' he asked Fifi, and she again fondled my pussy, which was now soaking.

'I think you would like a few strokes with a real whip, wouldn't you darling?' she said, 'I know that's what I have to have!'

She came around and kissed me, lingeringly, looking into my eyes, and I nodded to her.

'You'd like me to do it, wouldn't you?' she said.

'Oh yes,' I replied, 'yes please!' 

She walked away from me, her heels clicking on the parquet floor, then she was back, showing me a leather single-strand whip.

'This will hurt, you know.'

'I know.'

I heard its familiar distinctive whistle through the air as she tested her arm, and then her heels again as she moved around behind me.

The lash whistled again, and this time it was for me, and an explosion of white-hot pain seared into my upper back as the cruel thong bit into my tender skin.

I bit my lip and tasted blood, as I squirmed and wriggled in my bonds. Then the second stroke was more terrible than the first, lower down, across more delicate flesh, and I gasped, but with the agony came the start of what I had longed for, and welling up in the very centre of my being was an orgasm which would come with the next stroke which fell upon me. I heard her asking me if I could take more.

'Oh yes, yes, yes, please, please!' I heard myself say, and another awful stinging lash kissed my waiting back. I came, in waves of rapture which almost made me black out, and knew, when I came back to earth, that Fifi knew too. She had thrown down the whip, and asked her husband to take me down.

'God, what an orgasm you had!' she said, and I almost felt guilty. She rubbed balm into my three stripes, which were red and angry, and we sat for a moment with a drink, then I said, 'Thank you, both, for that, but I owe you now. Why don't we all go to bed together, if that's what you'd like?'

The Count smiled, and said, 'That' a kind offer, Renata, but you can forget me. Fifi would be very grateful, I'm sure, however.'

I obediently went along with Fifi to her boudoir, as she explained that her husband was no longer interested in making love – 'got his kicks in other ways' was how she put it.

We undressed and slipped between satin sheets together, her slim body still young enough to give me much pleasure. She had a pierced clitoris, with a little silver ring through it, and I enjoyed toying with it while she lapped my still-wet pussy. I soon had her moist as well, and found what she really wanted was me to finger her anus. She went wild, bucking her hips, when I inserted my forefinger slowly to its fullest extent in her dark tunnel, and when I joined it with another finger, she cried out so that I was afraid I'd hurt her.

'Oh no, Renata,' she said, 'it's been so long. Fuck me with your fingers. Fuck my arsehole. Please!'

I soon brought her to a raging climax like that, and then we slept in each others' arms, until the early hours. At perhaps five o'clock, Fifi woke me up, and I thought there was something wrong, but she was kissing me, and kneading my breasts.

I woke up slowly, but found I liked this new sensation.

'Mmm,' I said, 'that's nice!'

'Renata,' she said, 'are you awake?'

'I suppose so.'

'Would you do something for me?'

'What?'

'Whip me?'

'What, now?'

'Now!'

She clicked the light on, slid out of bed, before I could refuse, and knelt on the floor, naked, her hands behind her head. Beside her, on the floor, was a riding crop.

I got out beside her. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes, darling, I want you to hurt me.'

I picked up the crop, drew back my arm, and lashed her hard across her lower back, raising a bright red welt. She neither cried out nor moved an inch.

I repeated the stroke, lower down, four more times, making a pretty pattern on her pale flesh, but not even causing her to squirm. She started to moan as I struck her the fifth time, but it was a sound that came from deep in her throat, a sound I recognised which presaged a tumultuous orgasm. I threw down the crop.

Without a word, she took my hand, and pulled me into bed with her. We lay entwined until almost eleven next morning.

Ravenous, I slunk back to my room, threw on some clothes, and went in search of something to eat. In the dining room, I found Eva, tucking into croissants.

'Miss Renata,' she said, 'you look like shit!'

'Thank you, Eva,' I said, noting that she looked as fresh as a daisy, 'you probably didn't have a night like I had.'

'Hmmm,' she said, 'unless you got fucked seven times, you're right!'

Two days later, we left the Chateau d'Issoire, to drive across the border into Germany. It had been an excellent stay, and we made a lot of friends, some of whom would visit my Club in the future. 

Once we got into Germany, the autobahnen were fast, and we reached our destination, Frankfurt, in quick time. But I decided to let discretion be the better part of valour, and checked in our rented car at the International Airport, from where we should be leaving in a couple of days. I then booked us into a comfortable hotel nearby, and called my local contact.

We had plenty of time to relax in the indoor pool, then have a nice dinner before preparing ourselves for my planned night out in Frankfurt, about which I told Eva nothing, even though she was to be the central figure.

At nine o'clock, a big Audi swept up to Reception, and a slight, bald-headed man came looking for us.

'You must be Fräulein Renata, and this, your....er, companion, correct?' he said, with a guttural accent.

'Correct,' I confirmed. We had only been waiting there a few moments, dressed as suggested. My contact had told me that we should dress 'as if for a sophisticated disco' – so I wore a simple black backless mini-dress, carefully chosen to show off the three livid red welts that Fifi's whipping had left me with, and of which I was proud. Eva I had dressed in a virginal white silk creation, held up by a clasp at one shoulder, which allowed her breasts to jiggle around freely. It had an open panel around the midriff, giving the impression of near-nakedness. The driver could scarcely take his eyes off her as he escorted us to the car.

He drove us into the busy commercial area of the city, and we pulled up outside what appeared to be a shopping centre. As we stopped, a blond guy in casual gear appeared as if from nowhere, and asked us, in perfect English, to follow him. We did so, down a tunnel, into the heart of a huge block of shops and offices. We stopped at the end, and he summoned a lift, which took us smoothly down two or three levels. When we emerged, the noise-level was that of a discotheque. Our guide held a black velvet curtain aside, and we entered a massive ballroom, crammed with people. They appeared to be a normal disco crowd, mainly youngish people, quite well dressed, dancing to a thunderous beat. But our guide ushered us around the side of the floor, and out through a small door, beside which stood a bulky-looking black guy, who nodded us past, then down a corridor, and through another door.

We walked into a nicely appointed lounge, with a bar in one corner, subdued lighting and soft music, people sitting around with drinks, mostly chatting, but some embracing, couples both heterosexual and gay. A smiling, urbane-looking man in his fifties came and shook my hand.

'Hello,' he said, 'I am Helmut Müller.' It was my telephone contact, and he made us welcome. He saw my surprise as I looked around.

'I know,' he said, 'it all looks very normal. But I can't afford problems, and we are very discreet. This is just a meeting place, and there is much more downstairs.' He nodded towards a door at the far corner of the room, discreetly guarded by another very large man.

After we had exchanged pleasantries, he said, 'so this is the young woman, is it?' and appraised Eva, 'very nice! I'll ask my wife to come up – she's the expert, really, at this kind of thing, and then we can move along.'

He picked up a cordless phone and pressed one digit, then spoke a few words of rapid German.

'She'll be here in a minute,' he said, and, while we waited, I saw that Eva was becoming nervous. I did nothing to ameliorate her state – nerves would heighten her receptiveness to the sensations she was about to be subjected to.

'Ah, here's Lotte,' said Helmut, and a thin, almost emaciated woman, with long, long, wavy, auburn hair, in a long brown dress, came through the corner door and approached us. She had lovely eyes, and was ten years younger than Helmut. She embraced and kissed us both, and then bade us follow her back through the door, and down some carpeted stairs to a wide corridor.

She unlocked a door, one of several, with a swipe-card, and stood back while we entered. It was a capacious dressing-room. Helmut left us. 

'Now,' said Lotte, who, like her husband, spoke perfect English, 'we believe in doing things properly here. You may say we are very German!' She paused, and smiled. 'We have certain rituals to accompany a branding, which we think you will enjoy, Renata – You don't mind if I call you Renata, do you?'

'Of course not.'

'Well, Renata, I think your slave should be undressed now, please, if you don't mind.'

I turned to Eva, who looked at me questioningly, but I avoided her eyes, and spun her around, then quickly unfastened the clasp which secured her dress above her left shoulder, lifting the flimsy silk bodice clear of her firm young breasts. Aware of the two strangers' presence, she involuntarily covered her breasts with an arm, which I knocked away impatiently. 




Renata's Vacation



'Before I continue, I have another treat for you,' he said, and I heard him fiddling about on the tray again. Then he had his fingers in my arse again, pulling out the butt-plug, which came out with an audible 'pop.' I heard Lara laugh lightly. Almost immediately my arse was again violated by a much bigger plug, which really took my breath away. I felt it must have torn me as it forced its way past my sphincter, and cried out with the pain.

But this was forgotten in an instant as he returned with the crop, and the terrible swish came again as he started on the insides of my thighs, with great precision. I counted down until the tenth stroke, which seemed never to come, but then it was over, and I was let down from the cross, and fell into Sergio's arms. I was dimly aware that Lara was straddling José, her dress around her waist, whilst kneeling in front of her, Toni had his huge erection buried deep in her throat. Obviously my punishment had had its effect on them.

Sergio carried me bodily over to an unoccupied couch, and caressed my sore and aching back, buttocks and legs, gently rubbing in soothing oils he took from the tray. His actions aroused me still more, and I reached for his zipper. This time he didn't mind me opening it with my fingers, and when I held him in my hand, stroking his mighty length, he moaned with pleasure. I pulled myself over him and impaled myself on his entire great length, feeling every millimetre of him stretching me to the limit. It was a relief and a pleasure such as I had never hoped to feel in my life. He came in great rich spurts, and I matched him with a roaring climax, then we fell exhausted against each other, and stayed put for perhaps twenty minutes.

Later, he half carried me to my room. He dressed me in a long, virginal, white silk nightgown, and left me, telling me I would shortly be joined by Lara. Sure enough, perhaps half an hour later, she was brought in, naked, with red welts across her back and buttocks. She too had been beaten. José helped her into a nightdress similar to mine, and she joined me in bed, where we slept, our sore bodies entwined.

I awoke in the strange bed, feeling the totally alien sensation of another body next to mine. Lara was stirring, and it felt as if we had held each other all night. She stroked me, feeling the tender welts on my back and buttocks, and I did the same for her. When I ran my hand through her slit, I found she had a ring hanging from her clitoris, and I found myself toying with it for a while. She came to and smiled like a peaceful cat.

We played with each other for some time, my injuries from the whipping not nearly so sore as I feared they might be, but the large butt-plug filling my consciousness as well as my arsehole. When I mentioned this to Lara, she said I would be glad of it later.

We had to get up for breakfast and helped each other dress. As we were almost exactly the same size, the clothes in my wardrobe were fine for Lara too, and we both put on minidresses of knit jersey, with no underwear, even though Lara told me I should certainly have to wear the corset at some stage during the day. We both wore stilettos, of course. We went down to breakfast, and enjoyed a quiet coffee and croissant before we saw anyone else, then Sergio and José sauntered in, both dressed in business suits.

They came over and kissed us in a formal greeting, then Sergio said, 'We have a business meeting to go to, so we must leave you two here until evening. 'La Leonesa' will take care of you both today, and continue your training.' 

With that, a well-preserved lady in her forties came from behind the bar-screen, and walked over to their table. She was tall and slim, and wore a dark green tailored suit with a white silk blouse. Her long, shapely legs were encased in seamed black stockings and she wore black patent stilettos. Her hair was platinum blonde, and tied back in a severe bun. She was immaculately made-up, her nails long and red. She looked at Sergio with something approaching contempt at his introduction, and re-introduced herself, 'My name is Doña Francisca. I will be treated with respect, girls. You may address me as "Mistress."'

Without further ado, Sergio and José left, and we were alone with the intimidating Doña Francisca. 

'Stand, girls, please,' she said, and when we did as she asked, she looked us up and down.

'I see you are not wearing your corsets, come with me,' she ordered, and turned on her aristocratic heel. We followed meekly along a short corridor to a small lounge. We were not asked to be seated, so remained standing, while the older woman produced two leather corsets from a cupboard, and placed them on a sideboard.

'Undress,' she ordered, peremptorily, and we slipped out of our dresses. Doña Francisca walked around us both, briefly fingered my butt-plug, and let her hand linger a moment around Lara's clit-ring, cupped our breasts in turn for a moment, then walked over and picked up the first of the corsets.

'You first,' she said, pulling Lara towards her, and asking her name. On being told, she merely grunted, and proceeded to button the corset in place. It fit snugly under Lara's pretty, firm breasts, and had the effect of thrusting them upwards, whilst emphasising the swell of her buttocks. Francisca braced herself behind Lara, and pulled the laces with all her considerable strength, until Lara gasped for breath, and her waist was constricted visibly. An audible 'Oh' escaped her lips, earning her a sharp, stinging slap across the buttocks from the other woman.

When it was my turn, I could hardly believe how much tighter was this corset than the one before. It made it difficult to walk, especially combined with the high heels. But Doña Francisca now had us walk up and down in front of her for fully five minutes. When she had seen enough, she told us to get down on all fours, elbows on a couch, so that she could inspect us. 

It was with enormous relief that I felt the huge butt-plug being removed from my anus, but when it had gone, I almost felt a sense of loss. I sensed it would be short-lived, and was to find out that this was a prophetic judgement.

'Lara, you are well-prepared,' was Doña Francisca's opinion. Then she fingered my rectum, and seemed to come to a quick decision.

'Renata, you are in great need of anal training – immediately. Stay there.' That said, she pulled Lara up and sat her on the couch beside me, then left the room. While she was gone, Lara, sensing, I think, what was to come, stroked my hair, and kissed me gently, but stopped when she heard the door opening.

It was Doña Francisca, of course, but with her was Toni, this time wearing a silk robe. 

'Stand,' the older woman told Lara, pulling her to her feet, and thrusting her at Toni, to whom, I reflected, she was no stranger. They came into an embrace, kissing deeply, and I could see, out of the corner of my eye, Toni's robe tenting over his erection. Lara knew her part, and dropping to her knees, took him in her mouth, sucking his prodigious length hungrily. I imagined the tongue-stud running up and down his great shaft, teasing his sensitive glans.

'Enough,' said Doña Francisca, and pulled Lara up brutally by her hair. Toni also knew his role, and I was at the receiving end. My virgin arse was to be taken, and by the biggest cock I had ever seen. I felt his tip at my portals, pushing, gently at first, then harder, and I thought there was no way on earth he would introduce that huge member into my tiny hole. But he insisted, and I now knew that the plugs I had worn had been essential in opening me up. He paused to use some lube and then pushed ever harder – I guessed it was hurting him too, then he was passing my sphincter, and I felt a pain, and a pleasure, such as I had never felt before, my orgasm coming in multiple waves as he shot his load deep into my bowel. When he withdrew, there was blood on the couch, and I was going to be sore there for days, but mine was a new pleasure that was indescribable.

'Keep your corsets on, and go to your rooms. Rest until lunch,' we were now told, and a girl I hadn't seen before, a sweet little thing in a red sun-dress, was spirited from somewhere to escort us there. I found that Lara, in fact, had the room next to mine.

I lay down on the bed for a good hour, luxuriating in the feel of the silk sheets, but all too aware of the soreness in my rectum. Altogether, though, and despite the restriction of the tightly-laced corset, I felt remarkably good.

After a time, I decided it was time to dress for lunch and once again inspected the closet, this time coming up with a sheer black silk blouse, which showed the points of my nipples to perfection. A pleated schoolgirl-type plaid skirt completed the outfit. It came to somewhere around mid-thigh. Instead of shoes, I laced on a pair of high patent boots, with needle heels and platform soles. When I knocked next door for Lara, I saw she had chosen almost an identical outfit, except that her skirt was plain black leather, and tighter. She laughed. As we had a few minutes to spare, she suggested we spent a little time on make-up, and we amused ourselves rouging our nipples, as well as our cunt-lips. I had to make her stop at this point, or I should have climaxed again.

The same girl came and took us down to lunch, a light affair, which we ate alone, but as soon as we had finished, Doña Francisca was there again.

'I see you have dressed nicely,' she said, almost the first nice thing she had said to us, 'But we shall now put you both to work, if you are agreeable to that?' It was phrased as a question, but I felt that refusal was not really an option. 'Come with me.'

We followed her down another of the many corridors, and entered what appeared to be a dressing room, with racks of clothes and other props, and a door leading off, on which was stencilled the word, 'SILENCIO.' 

Doña Francisca told us to undress. 'Completely?' I asked. 'Completely,' she affirmed, and we quickly shrugged off skirts and blouses, and helped each other out of the corstes. I sighed with relief, and Doña Francisca smiled, for once, noticing. She too was stripping off, and I saw she had a fine body, with hardly a sign of her middle-age. I thought I detected the hint of a stretch-mark on her flat stomach, but she had firm, round tits with long nipples. Astonishingly, she bore signs of having recently been whipped, with several raised welts across her buttocks. She caught me looking, and smiled again, this time wistfully. 'You have much still to learn, my child,' was all she said.

When we were all naked, she had Lara and I put on a floor-length transparent white nylon lace-edged negligee each, tied with a braided cord, and a pair of simple high-heeled mules. She herself wriggled into a fishnet catsuit, through which her breasts and sex could clearly be seen. Her feet she clad in patent spike-heeled boots like the ones I had worn. She then attached a leather collar to each of our necks and fastened a leash to each one

'Right girls, ready?' she said, and, without waiting for an answer, she held her fingers to her lips, and pushing open the door, walked through on to a stage. We were pulled after her, and were met by a strange and exciting scene. On the stage were two wooden crosses, inset with rings like the ones in the room where I had been whipped the night before. There were also two couches. Stood on the stage was Toni, stripped to the waist, holding a huge and terrifying-looking whip. Solemn music was playing somewhere in the background. I could make our faces in the darkness of the auditorium – perhaps there were thirty people, with a mixture of ages and sexes, from what little I could see.

Lara and I were pulled roughly to the crosses, and bound to them with short lengths of rope, she with her face to the cross, me, with my back to it. Doña Francisca pulled down our negligees in turn, exposing our naked bodies, then stood to one side and told Toni to start. He did so, flicking the fierce-looking great whip with a terrible crack, right across my stomach. It hurt, but not as much as the crop the night before, and not as much as it looked as if it might. But when he came higher I cried out, as much in the anticipation of pain across my tender tits as with the actual pain. My nipples were still sore from Sergio's clamps, anyway. After a while, I saw to my surprise that he had raised red lines on my upper thighs and stomach, and, if anything, Lara had fared worse, with welts appearing across her lovely buttocks and back.

It was time for us to be cut down, and Toni fondled me as he did so, reaching between my legs to feel how moist I was. He cannot have been disappointed. Not knowing what was expected of me, I looked at Doña Francisca, but she was busy licking Lara's cunt, on the couch beside the cross, and I took that as my cue to take my pleasure with Toni. I abandoned myself totally, dropping on to the couch and pulling him down with me. I had his zipper down and released his cock in no time, and he plunged himself into me, his balls driving right against my arse, kissing me deeply.

I glanced at the audience, and there were scenes of a similar nature taking place on couches, and even on the floor, all over the small auditorium. But Toni took all of my attention now and drove himself into me with ferocious power, ravaging my very innermost depths with his enormous length, until I felt his orgasm welling up. He came with a single massive heave, and growled like some wild animal as he filled me with his hot sperm. I felt like sleeping, but knew we were part of a 'spectacular.' Doña Francisca

wanted to have us all stand and be presented to the audience, many of whom seemed, however, to be too preoccupied to notice. I felt almost too weak at the knees to stand, but made it, and we held hands as if we had been in some bizarre West End production, then the curtain came down, and we slipped on our negligees once more.

Doña Francisca told us to go and rest, then come down for dinner at eight, dressed 'as beautifully as we were able' – she said we were to spend the evening with 'our men.'

Her parting words were, 'You have done very well today, girls.' This, with a smile. 

We were escorted, once more, to our rooms, by a scantily-clad and silent young girl, and I dropped off into an untroubled sleep on the comfortable bed, still in the negligee.

Later, I awoke, as refreshed as I had felt in a long time, and determined to look my best for Sergio that night. I took a long, hot bath, made sure no vestiges of hair remained around my smooth pussy, inspected my nails for any damage, and took time with my hair, brushing it out to a silken shine. I took longer than usual over my make-up, applying more eye-shadow than was my custom, then rouged my nipples and cunt-lips. Doing so, I aroused myself once again, but, not wanting to tire myself out before the evening, soon desisted. 

I put on a white garter-belt and white lace-top stockings, then went to the closet to select a dress from the wonderful array. After much deliberation, I chose a long shimmering silver silk gown, open at the front, down to my navel. With it I wore silver heels, of course.

I went next door to see how Lara was faring, and she looked quite stunning. I almost felt envious of her choice, when I saw she had picked a trouser-suit – with a difference. It consisted of a transparent bodice, through which her breasts were clearly visible, and trousers which appeared quite decent until she walked, when it was apparent that they were made in such a way that they did not join – they were, in fact, open-crotch trousers. Her shaven mound could be seen if she wished to display it.

'I don't know if I dare wear this,' she said, but I could see she had decided. Then she motioned to me to come to her and produced a box from a drawer.

'I have something for you I know Sergio will like to see you wear – if you can,' she said, opening the box. She took out two gold clamps, and pushed aside the halves of my dress. Pulling out my right nipple, she caused me to cry out sharply, but kissed me on the lips as she kneaded and tweaked a little more. Then she placed the clamp, and tightened it. It hurt, but I felt I could take it. She repeated the process with the left nipple, then attached a gold chain between the two. It could now be seen in the gap of my cleavage, so that it was quite obvious to anyone that I was wearing the clamps.

When we were taken down to dinner, we turned heads in the dining room as we entered, but Sergio and José were not yet at the table. When they arrived, five minutes later, they complemented us on our appearance, and said they had had favourable reports on our day's activities, from Doña Francisca. I felt unreasonably proud.

As we dined, Sergio quietly, 'I want you girls to play with each other. I want to see you come. Both of you.'

With that, I looked at Lara, and she looked back with hooded eyes, her tongue-stud peeking out characteristically. I found her thigh under the table, and let my hand wander up to her puffy lips, from where it was a short step to the little silver ring which dangled enticingly from her clit. She moaned involuntarily, and her own hand started to run up the hem of my dress, sliding up the silky stockings, over the lace and the expanse of bare flesh above. Then she found my smooth, shaven mound, and my neat lips, which longed for her fingers, already soaking wet. She plunged two fingers into my dripping cunt and I couldn't suppress an 'oh,' causing people at the next table to look around briefly. But people who came here were used, I suppose, to this kind of thing.

I transferred my attention to Lara's arsehole, and thrust three fingers straight up her waiting and commodious tube. She smiled in acceptance of this, and said, 'I love it when my arse is taken like that. I think I'm going to come.'

I too was close to orgasm, as she flicked again and again at my hardened clitoris, and the pain on my nipples only heightened my pleasure as a violent climax racked my body. We came together, and both the men had their eyes shut – they were terribly aroused too. 

We left the table, and went to Lara's room, where we all fucked long into the night.

To be continued?