Elise

Greg's hand was on my bare thigh, and I could hear his breath accelerating as he observed the scene. The lash fell again and again, and I knew it would cause no lasting damage, but must have hurt terribly. I began to imagine the sting as each stroke fell on soft naked flesh, and realised that something akin to envy was building up in me, as was an incipient desire for the hard young body of Greg, whose hand was now making its way up under the hem of my skirt. I reciprocated, feeling for the hardness in his trousers -- I was far from disappointed, as he was rigid as a flagstaff.

As Astrid now squirmed with each stroke, writhing as the whip struck, in a manner which suggested something way, way beyond pain, Greg's hand had found its way into my crack.

'God, you're wet!' he said.

'Oh Greg, fuck me!' I replied, and quickly climbed across and straddled him, as he released a huge erection from its prison.

Looking over his shoulder, I could see that Astrid was in the throes of an orgasm -- there was no other possible explanation for her bucking, writhing and screaming, as Sarah had dropped her whip and was now holding the blonde's lovely body as if to save her from some other force. But Greg was inside me now, and could hold off only a very short time, as I rode him, controlling the strokes, until I knew he must cum. He stiffened, and shot an enormous load of hot spunk deep within me, and I was able to let my own long-awaited orgasm flow freely at the same time.

We were by no means the only people engaged in sexual activity, when I looked around, and it was a while before we were all cleaned up and presentable.

I was curious, and asked Astrid how she had felt.

Mysteriously, she replied that being whipped gave her a feeling of power, of dominance, and that no sexual pleasure, for her, was greater. I thought that rather odd, if strangely exciting, but made no comment.

After passing the rest of the evening quietly, I again slept well, and enjoyed a nice breakfast. It had been one hell of a weekend -- a life-changing experience -- but when Sir Gordon kissed me goodbye on the tarmac at Arrecife airport, I doubted I should ever see him again. The flight to England was uneventful, unaccompanied, as I was, and I dozed most of the time. It was raining when we landed.

PART TWO

Settling down to work, after a long weekend like that, was no easy matter, but I had no option, and had time to make up, anyway. I was more than a little surprised -- and immensely happy -- to learn that my brother's cancer had gone into remission, against all the odds.

I seemed to spend my every waking hour at the hotel for the next week, and wasn't really surprised when I received no word from Sir Gordon during that time. Yes, it had been great, but these things didn't last for ever, did they? It was in this philosophical mood that I returned after an exhausting day doing nothing, and flopped on the comfortable sofa in the lounge I shared with Judith Gold.

Judith was a nurse, and we seldom seemed to coincide, shift-working being what it is, but that day she was off work until later, and wandered in soon after me, wearing a tee-shirt and very brief shorts.

My recent trip had obviously had an effect on my attitude, because I was seeing my flatmate through new eyes -- and she looked gorgeous! Her short, neat, page-boy style hair had that peculiar shade of dark auburn which only Jewish girls seem to have, and her aquiline features were decorated by a pair of huge, liquid, very dark eyes, with extravagantly long lashes, whilst her wide mouth just asked to be kissed.

'You look knackered,' she said.

'I don't know why,' I replied, 'I guess I'm just bored.'

'Let's go have a drink,' she suggested, and I readily agreed, noticing for the first time that she had a neat coral stud in her tongue -- I wondered what it would be like to kiss her............

We walked companionably around to a local pub, and sat on stools beside a corner table, both drinking wine, talking about nothing in particular, until, somehow, the subject got around to my weekend in Lanzarote. I was, by now, a little embarrassed to detail all that had happened, but sketched out the general picture for her, without admitting my own part in the proceedings.

But Judith was neither naïve nor stupid, and put two and two together. 'And now you're back here in the humdrum world, eh?'

I looked into her lovely eyes, and nodded dumbly. Her hand was on my stockinged knee -- I was still wearing my short uniform-skirt -- and I looked down at it, but made no move to draw away from her electric touch. I looked back at her face, and saw a serious look come over her, and something I couldn't read. But, God, she was wonderful, I thought.

'You are very beautiful, Judith,' I managed to say.

'Come on,' she said, 'let's go to bed!'

There was, at that moment, nothing in the world I wanted more. I put one hand on hers, still on my knee, the other on her slender, shapely thigh.

'We can leave when you're ready,' I said.

As we walked back to the flat, hand-in-hand, I said, 'Didn't you have a boyfriend?'

'I've had a few,' she replied, 'but, well......you know.'

I thought I did. I could certainly understand now how a girl's touch, her understanding of female flesh, of feminine orgasm, was a positive substitute in many ways, even though the thrill of penetration by a stiff, rampant cock was something I wouldn't happily be without for long. And now that I knew the sheer exciting, pulsing sensation of anal sex...........

But for now, Judith's slim body was there to be explored, and I could scarcely wait to be naked with her, to investigate her with my tongue, have her own, studded, tongue explore me, and feel the joy I knew her long, artistic fingers could bring me.

Once in Judith's neat bedroom, menorah standing guard on a side-table, we undressed each other in breathless haste, with much fumbling at buttons and clasps, until we were naked, and knelt facing one another on the neatly-made double bed, just drinking in the sight of our bodies. She had small, firm breasts, topped with dark nipples, and she was, like me, clean-shaven. I noticed that she also had a pretty dangling triple chain hanging from a silver ring through her navel. Meanwhile she commented favourably on the fine gold waist-chain I had taken to wearing since my epic weekend in Lanzarote.

We squatted motionless, just looking, for a long moment, then Judith reached out a hand and touched her delicate, long-nailed finger-tips to my lips. I kissed them, and saw the desire in her beautiful eyes. I, in turn, reached out to her, and cupped a breast, then took a hard little nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Judith gave a tiny moan as her nipple grew under my touch, then able to resist no longer, I moved in and kissed her full lips, tasting her sweet breath as she opened her mouth and let her studded tongue roam at will around my own.

Our hands were busy, exploring, and, as I toyed with her little navel-decoration, I said, 'I just love your piercings.'

'You haven't seen the best one yet,' she replied, and, pulling away, sat back on her haunches, and parted her knees so that I could see the damp pinkness of he pussy, surrounded by the dark, inviting folds of her labia. But what she was showing me was a silver ring, from which dangled a pretty pendant encasing a glowing ruby -- or, at least, something red that looked like one.

'Look,' she said -- as if I could look anywhere else -- and she began to rub gently at the seat of the ring. It was immediately obvious that the piercing was directly through her prominent clitoris, which emerged from its protective hood like a small prick, as Judith's breathing quickened. Tentatively, I put my hand over hers, and took over the task of stimulating the growing bud.

'Oh, Liz,' she groaned, 'you can't know how much I've wanted this -- and for how long!'

Before I could frame a reply, her head was between my legs, and I felt the rasp of her studded tongue as she lapped the length of my crack, stimulating my own clit, then plunging that lovely tongue deep into my hot, wet cunt. Clumsily, I manoeuvred into a '69' position, so that I could lick her sweetness too, and, learning from my 'tutors' in Lanzarote, I wriggled first one, then two fingers into Judith's arsehole.

Moaning, loudly, she followed my lead, and I felt her own fingers penetrating me. I came immediately, and felt Judith shudder, then was drenched as she squirted her fluids

copiously over my face.

When we had had time to recover, side-by-side on her bed, we both laughed, but kissed some more, and were in danger of starting all over again when Judith sprang out of bed, opened a drawer, and showed me a huge, double-ended dildo.

'This is for next time,' she said.

'I can't wait, darling,' I replied.

'You should give serious thought to having yourself pierced,' she suggested, and I said that her example had already got me thinking that way. I asked her if it had hurt a lot, having her clit done.

'Oh, it hurt,' she said, 'but in a wonderful way.'

What, I thought, did she mean by that? I was well on the way to understanding the relationship between pain and pleasure -- the memory of Astrid's whipping playing like a video in my head. I mentioned it to Judith, and she said, 'Stop right there -- you're getting me all wet again, and I've got to go to work.'

A couple of days later Judith took me to what looked on the outside like a really seedy establishment -- a garishly-labelled 'Tattoo Shop' -- which was much neater once you got through the door. A Goth girl behind the counter, however, sported an amazing range of facial metal, and looked to have tattoos everywhere, but she seemed nice enough, obviously knew Judith, and ushered us through a door into a clean, quite clinical-looking office, with a lot of stainless steel on show. A woman in her fifties and a younger guy, both in white lab coats, were drinking coffee from paper cups. The woman greeted my companion warmly, and bade me sit down in what looked like a dentist's chair.

'So,' she said, in an unusually deep voice, 'Clit, navel and tongue, is it?'

Judith answered yes for me. I was more frightened than perhaps I should have been.

'Clit first, then,' said the woman, breezily, for which I was grateful -- it would be out of the way, then, I thought -- the one that scared me, of course.

As was now my habit, I wore no panties, and the woman smiled when she raised my short skirt and saw this, then placed my ankles in stirrups, as if I was in for a gyno exam.

She put on a pair of glasses, and looked closely at my exposed pussy, then used a latex-gloved hand to tug gently at my clitoris, humming softly to herself as she did so. Judith was watching, fascinatedly, and said, quietly, 'You'll look even lovelier with your ring there, darling!'

Her interest was all it took to start my juices moving, and the woman muttered something that sounded like approval, holding her hand out for her assistant to pass her some kind of instrument, which she palmed rather deftly, so that I was unable to see it. I felt the familiar growth of my clit, but then, suddenly, a pain so utterly, indescribably total, that I almost passed out, but I couldn't have said whether it was from the agony or from some awful ecstasy, as the sharp instrument penetrated my most tender, intimate part. It lasted hardly any time at all -- a bit of fiddling around, and the women straightened up, and had her assistant hand her a mirror. I was the proud possessor of a silver ring, about a centimetre in diameter, decorating my clitoris.

'That looks looks great!' said Judith, but the woman broke in: 'Don't be tempted into stimulation for four or five days,' she said, 'and no danglers just yet, either -- I know Judith likes them.' Judith coloured up at this, but the woman's attention had turned to my navel, and she showed me a catalogue, from which I chose a pretty silver double chain, with little baubles which would swing around nicely. A quick squirt of anaesthetic of some sort, and it was done, her attention turning to my tongue, into which I had a simple silver dumbell inserted.

Afterwards, Judith asked me how I felt.

'A little bit sore down below,' I replied, and my tongue feels very strange indeed, but I suppose I'll get used to it.'

'I love the feeling of my little pendant between my legs when I'm walking around in just a short skirt,' said my friend, 'and I'm sure you will too.'

I did, when the initial soreness wore off. Judith and I loved playing with each other, now that I had been pierced more than ever, and I know my tongue-stud gave her new sensations whenever I kissed her, sucked her hard nipples, or lapped her eager pussy, probing all her intimate places with my questing tongue. We played, too, with an assortment of toys, not just her double-ended dildo, but a set of connected balls we, giggling, bought at a grotty sex-shop. When Judith introduced these, one-by-one, into my anus, it was a real thrill, and even better as they popped out, widening my sphincter and giving me a wonderful sensation. But when she asked me, one evening, if there was anything I missed, I told her honestly that the feeling of a stiff, live, throbbing hot prick inside me, pounding hard, masterfully thrusting, then shooting a great load of steaming cum deep within me, was something that nothing else could replicate.

Judith fell silent, and I thought I had wounded her, but when I stroked her thigh tenderly, she said, 'Yes, darling, I know what you mean. But men are such bastards, aren't they?'

'I can hardly disagree, my love,' I said, thinking of how Sir Gordon had apparently abandoned me for the four or five weeks that had passed since that erotic weekend in Lanzarote.

Little did I realise that a surprise was awaiting me when I arrived at the hotel for work, the day after this exchange.

I smoothed my uniform skirt down over my thighs, and checked my appearance in the mirror just inside the revolving doors as I entered the hotel lobby, turned the corner towards Reception, and almost staggered in shock when I saw who was leaning against my desk, chatting to Derek, the guy I had come in to replace. It was Sir Gordon!

I fought to look unflustered, and said, 'Sir Gordon -- what a surprise!'

'Ah, Elise,' he said, smiling, as if he had spoken to me only an hour or two ago, 'You must forgive me for not being in touch.'

I glanced at young Derek, who was putting on his jacket and pretending not to hear. 'It's been almost two months,' I said quietly, reproachfully.

'I know,' he said, looking, I thought, downcast, 'and I can explain, if you'll allow me. If you are free to have dinner with me, I should be delighted.'

'I'll let you know,' I said, more coldly than I felt, 'I take it you are staying here?'

'Yes, I have my usual suite,' he said, 'and I'll be in by about seven.'

As Sir Gordon left, coat over his arm, Derek said, 'Go for it, girl!'

'Cheeky git!' I told him and tried to start checking the register on the computer, my head all of a whirl.

A part of me wanted to tell Sir Gordon to take a running jump, but the other, much stronger part remembered the feel of his vibrant, rigid cock, stretching my arsehole to and beyond its limits, the sheer erotic ambience of that wonderful weekend, when Astrid was whipped, while Sir Gordon's son fucked me, the dancing, the games, the clothes we all wore, my first Lesbian experiences....................

As I looked at the computer, the figures blurred, and I saw only that mansion in Lanzarote, then thought back to Judith, and suddenly found myself what she would make of it all.

In the end, I phoned her at the hospital, and found that she would be late home anyway, so, when Sir Gordon came in, I told him, trying not to appear too enthusiastic, that I should be pleased to accept his invitation to dinner, but that I should have to be in my uniform, as I had no change of clothing at the hotel.

The 'night-girl' was prompt at ten o'clock, and Sir Gordon picked up his bedside phone immediately. 'I'll be right down,' he said.

I had done my best to repair my make-up and hair, and felt fairly presentable in my pleated skirt and white silk blouse, from which I removed my name-badge, as we left to take a taxi.

He took me to a small, intimate bistro, where we sat on cane chairs at a corner table. He spoke not a word until we had ordered our food. Then he took my hand firmly in his.

'Elise, my dear,' he said, those piercing blue eyes drilling into my very soul, 'Life, I find, seldom runs a smooth course, and mine has been no exception, of late. As one who has also suffered a few upheavals, I am sure you will understand.'

'But you seem to be a person who has everything........money, family, an exciting life....' I ended lamely.

'And so it must have appeared.' He looked down at his plate as our salads came. 'But, as I say, things never run smoothly for long.' He looked to be deciding how to continue his story, then finally began to tell me. I began to listen, increasingly fascinated as his tale unfolded.

It seemed that he and the elegant, sophisticated Sarah had never been married, but had lived together for some ten years or more. She was -- as I had already guessed -- promiscuous, and had started a steamy affair with one of Sir Gordon's staff, Kiko, a darkly handsome young guy with whom I had shared a sexy dance. Quite suddenly, she had left with him, headed for Madrid, where she was well-connected, and had engaged the services of a sharp lawyer. The upshot of his was that Sir Gordon had been extremely fortunate to hold on to the property, but had lost a tremendous amount of money, and could no longer run to a huge staff, a private aeroplane, and so forth.

'So what are you going to do?' I asked.

'I have a plan,' he said, 'And I am here in England drumming up business, and backing, from specialist travel companies, as I shall do in other countries too. My idea is to develop a specialist holiday complex, using my property, for people bent on......pleasure.'

'Hmmm, sounds interesting!'

'It's what I do best,' he said, grinning, and looking suddenly twenty years younger.

'I can't argue with that, but tell me more.'

At that he got a little coy, and talked about 'pleasures of the flesh.'

'So what you're really proposing is a whorehouse in the sun?'

Now he looked put out. 'What do young people go to Club 18-30 for? Why Ibiza? Why do a lot of well-heeled Europeans spend their holidays in Bangkok? Or visit Amsterdam even?'

I knew the answer of course. 'Sex.'

'Exactly. And I'd like you to join me in this venture, Elise.'

'Me........but....'

'But you're in a relationship since Lanzarote, aren't you?'

'I....I have a friend, but how...?'

'I see you have had your tongue pierced -- and very erotic it looks too.' He smiled, 'Would I be right in thinking it's a young lady?'

I looked down at my plate.

'I can see I was right,' he said, then was silent, as we ate.

At length, he said, 'Your friend, what's her name?'

'Judith,' I told him, 'she's a nurse.'

'Do you have a photo?' I fished one out of my purse -- Judith smiling and happy, wearing a pretty flowered print dress.

'Could I meet her?'

Bloody hell! Strange request, or what?

'Er....well, I suppose so, if she wants,' I stammered, wondering how I should put that to Judith -- A guy who once fucked me wants to meet you! Yeah.

But he pressed on, 'I'll write her an invitation to dinner when you are both free -- what do you say?'

Frankly, I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. After all, there was no harm in a free meal, was there?

'No need to write,' I said, no lover of formality, 'I'll just bring her along. But the difficulty will be both of us being off work at the same time.'