tagBDSMLa Playa Ch. 08

La Playa Ch. 08

byFog43©

Edited by Susurrus



Early evening fell, and the entire resort felt the electric air of expectation. The events of the past two days had set the tone Steve had been aiming for: a feeling of freedom and acceptance, as well as one of hedonism and lust. As they got comfortable with their experience, most guests had become more and more public with their sex acts, and everyone expected further barriers to fall with the setting sun.

The bar and patio were in full swing. A small combo played Caribbean dance music and a variety of boat drinks enhanced the colors of sunset. The Spa staff were winding up their services for the day, even having to help a few people who had become so relaxed by their treatments - or exhausted from sexual exertion - that they could not safely walk back to their rooms. When they did get the guests back where they belonged, they did a quick blood pressure check and tucked them into bed. The pool and beaches still had a few people around and on them, and staff lit tiki torches on the Isle of Eros to illuminate a luau/orgy hosted by Randy and Scarlett to promote their adult film company.

A few guests who had not read their orientation packets or daily notices were disappointed to find the Dungeon closed. That evening, the Dungeon staff would be teaching BDSM 101, with lectures and demonstrations in the Ballroom, followed by small group and individual instruction on the equipment in the Dungeon.

Ben and Cindy were nervous. They had known each other since Ben's freshman year of college, and had married while Cindy was finishing her master's degree and Ben was in his first year of pharmaceutical sales. It had been a good marriage the first five years, blessed with one child who was staying with grandparents, and filled with good sex. They had explored their bisexuality together in college, and found their tastes highly compatible, but had not had many chances to indulge those interests since the birth of the baby.

Because of their college experience it wasn't much of a stretch to keep their marriage somewhat open, and they had few problems with jealousy issues. They used the internet to keep in touch with their sexuality, and had made many good friends online and had indulged in cybersex, both individually and together, whenever possible. Cindy had a girlfriend in a distant city she met online. They'd gotten together in person a couple of times, and shared phone sex regularly. Ben had met a few guys and gals here and there, but found no one in particular with the exception of a kinky woman who had planted some seeds and made him more and more intrigued by the world of power exchange.

Cindy had discovered BDSM online during her maternity leave, filling the otherwise boring days with chat and surfing as the baby sucked on her breasts. She had ordered a few toys and found that they both enjoyed nipple clamps and light bondage, but were both a little scared to go much further.

A couple years later, Ben had come home from a business trip very excited. While surfing the web in his hotel room one night, he had come across information on La Playa, and was especially attracted to the BDSM information. They both had well paying jobs with vacation time saved up, and Cindy's parents lived only two hours away and would jump at the chance to care for little Cynthia for a week. Here was a chance to re-immerse themselves in their bisexual yearnings, as well as explore this darker side of sexuality, which seemed so taboo yet was growing in popularity.

So here they were, preparing for an evening in which they expected to both give up a high degree of control to other people, and to exercise control over the sexual pleasure of others. This was a big step beyond using a couple of silk scarves to tie each other to the headboard and talk dirty. However, they had both been entranced by the Dungeon staff during the Welcome Reception. Upon returning to their room after the event, they learned that they were both strongly attracted to Master Paul, and Ben was smitten by Mistress Dana. They had signed up for the class first thing the next morning, and were given an instruction sheet to begin following on Tuesday morning to prepare themselves for the evening.

Step one had been a hearty and healthy breakfast consisting of oatmeal, fruits, and yogurt, with instructions to, at most, sip some broth for lunch. Then, in the late afternoon they were to begin their physical preparation with enemata. By mutual unspoken agreement, they avoided the potential mess and embarrassment in their room by visiting the Spa to let professionals take care of that need privately. Once they were thoroughly cleansed, they rejoined each other in their room, and moved on to the next step.

All visible body hair, except for a decorative patch of pubic hair above the genitals, according to taste, was to be removed from their bodies. Ben had been keeping his chest, cock, balls, and ass baby smooth for years, so Cindy helped him apply the depilatory cream to his legs and arms, keeping an eye on the clock, to time removal. While they waited, with Ben essentially unable to move, Cindy shaved her legs and used scissors to start the removal of her thick patch of pubic hair. This was not a step she relished, as she had never personally understood the attraction of smooth genitalia, but she couldn't very well back out now, with Ben covered in depilatory.

When Ben's time was up, he stepped into the oversized shower and rinsed crème and hair down the drain. Cindy stepped in with him to shave her pubes and gasped at the sight of her naked husband. She was used to his bare chest and pubic region, but the addition of no arm or leg hair, of a truly nude body below his head, made all the muscles on Ben's nearly six foot frame stand out in stark relief. The additional nakedness made Ben feel somewhat vulnerable, and he realized with a shock that he truly relished the feeling. His cock sprang to just past half mast, and he grinned almost maniacally at his wife, who reached out and ran her hands all over his wet, naked body.

"If you keep that up we'll be late and get punished," Ben said, half hoping his words were true.

With a sigh, Cindy pushed her body against his, reached up for a deep kiss, then moved away and handed him a razor. "We've both got some shaving to do, boy, so get with it!" she said with mock severity.

"Yes, Mistress," Ben replied with a grin.

Ben took some shaving cream and began to lather his balls and mound as Cindy took a seat in the well-appointed shower compartment and began the process of removing the remainder of the hair on her mons, labia, and ass. She left a "landing strip" right above her clit, and had Ben help her with any stray hair around her anus, then returned the favor for him.

After completing this task they dried each other, both still feeling butterflies but beginning to be driven by their libidos as they continued their preparations. Cindy thought back to the night she lost her virginity to an older man, and realized she was feeling some of the same feelings.

Prior to dressing, they were instructed to insert the butt plug, anal beads, or anal jewelry of their choice. Ben was well experienced with butt plugs, having more than once worn one all day. To be perfectly honest, he relished almost anything stuck up his ass. He easily slipped in his favorite flared-bottom silicone egg, as well seating a rubber, one-inch cock ring down to the base of his shaft.

Cindy was much more an anal novice, and opted for their anal beads, which she had used on Ben often, but had tried herself only once. She felt her apprehension deepen somewhat as the last lubricated bead slipped past her sphincter. How would she react tonight if a Dom with a really big cock, like Master Paul, began to fuck her ass? Could she take it? How would she feel afterward? Then she looked again at her hairless husband, remembered the great sex they had already experienced and watched on this vacation, and reminded herself to let go.

For his part, Ben was nearly past the apprehension, and was beginning to feel psyched. He always had been a much more sexual animal than Cindy, and relished ass play. The part he was unsure of was the possibility of pain or extreme humiliation. He had read many erotic stories on the web, though, and these fueled his imagination as he began to dress.

He had bought an especially tight pair of black jeans and a leather vest for this occasion. He knew that the vest would highlight his pecs, which he was very proud of. Before slipping on the vest, he rubbed scented oil on his chest and arms so that his musculature would catch and reflect any light that hit it. He finished the outfit with a simple pair of leather sandals. If asked, he'd call the look "island biker."

Cindy, on advice from the Activities staffer who had taken their reservation, wore plain white panties, no bra, and a very short sundress with sandals. She thanked her stars one more time that the last day of her period had been on their travel day to the island.

Prepped, dressed, and coiffed, the loving pair looked at each other; took a deep breath, and shared a long, loving hug. Ben followed this with a deep soulful kiss of his one true love, and Cindy felt her fears melt away as he whispered, "I love you first, last, and always," in her ear.

They held each other tightly for a while longer, then looked deep into each other's eyes. They both saw respect, love, and devotion reflected there, and knew that they could trust each other absolutely. With a final quick kiss, the two still-young lovers joined hands and headed for the ballroom.

As they arrived at the Ballroom foyer there was a short line of people waiting to approach the registration table. John and Stephanie of the Activities staff were checking people in and providing handouts which were just a bit different from those of a normal seminar. The obligatory agenda was replaced by a small laminated card, which included some of the basic safety rules of BDSM play and safety reminders for the Dungeon equipment. Each of these cards had a hole punched in a corner with a leather strap through it long enough to drape over the neck.

The other handout item was a simple leather collar with Velcro closure. Participants were instructed that the collar would go on and off only at the direction of the Dungeon staff, and would denote the role of the wearer during scenes or in individual play. One couple - who had arrived already wearing elaborate collars - was instructed to take them off until told otherwise by a Master or Mistress. Cocktail waitresses circulated among the crowd with trays of light champagne, hors d'ouvres, and non-alcoholic beverages. No other alcohol was available. The doors into the Ballroom proper were closed.

Tables and easels were set up in the foyer with displays of various BDSM toys and devices. Floggers, various types of clamps, restraints, plugs, harnesses, paddles, strap-ons, electric devices, hoods, collars, chastity devices, cock and ball torture toys, and many other examples of the accoutrements of the lifestyle were on view, with cards explaining their basic purposes and use tastefully placed nearby.

On a huge screen at one end of the hall, and repeated on two smaller satellite screens on the ocean side of the room, a BDSM instructional video was playing that included a Mistress, three slaves (two male, one female) a rack, a whip, and a dog chained in the corner of the room. Cindy noticed the dog and hoped the tape would end before she was forced to watch any bestiality. Kinky was one thing, obscene quite another.

Ben handed her a collar and safety card, which she immediately began to read. She found that the rules were pretty straight forward:

1) The safe word is Rumpelstiltskin

2) All penetrative sex, even between partners or with toys, will require condoms

3) Nothing may be looped around your neck except at the express instruction of Dungeon Staff

4) The basis of all successful BDSM play is mutual respect

5) All normal rules of the resort apply

Ben finished reading and asked, "I wonder why the rule about the neck?"

"I would imagine it's a safety precaution," replied Cindy. "There have to be around 40 guests here tonight, and the Dungeon staff can't spend all their time playing lifeguard around the racks and beds."

She gestured toward the display that showed all the furniture-sized equipment in the Dungeon. Ben saw a series of crosses, stands, chairs, and beds in a variety of configurations and finishes. He wondered briefly how much such toys cost, then quickly put the thought out of his mind. He needed his garage for tools, motorcycles, and his jet ski, and the only room in the house large enough for the kind of apparatus before him was the living room. He thought about what his Mom would say at Christmas, shuddered, then grinned.

They each took a glass of champagne from a server and moved to examine the displays more closely. In any other setting these would have been the typical table-top educational displays you'd see at vanilla conventions and conferences. The prime difference was that instead of touting the advantages of a new vacuum cleaner or explaining a recent scientific discovery, these displays explained the history and uses of the flogger, or presented Mistress Anjali's thoughts on the best use of sensory deprivation in sexual stimulation. The psychological effect of all this was to set the stage for learning. It was a serious effort on the part of the Dungeon staff to communicate the pros, cons, dangers and delights of an approach to sex that is foreign to many people, though it was likely to be much more familiar to the experienced clientele of La Playa.

"Good evening!" A deep baritone voice boomed across the room, as the lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated a raised platform in a corner of the Ballroom foyer. "I'm Master Paul, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to a night of learning, loving, and lust.

"We hope you get a lot out of tonight and that it enhances the rest of your stay here at La Playa and enriches your lives back home. In a moment we will open the doors to the Ballroom. This will be your first chance to decide not to participate further. No one will be coerced, and no true 'power exchange' will take place tonight, as those of us experienced in the Lifestyle understand the term. You are free to leave any time you like, but should you choose to do so, we cannot allow you to be readmitted, as many comings and goings would disrupt the proceedings too much for others.

"Restrooms are available inside the Ballroom and later in the Dungeon. Once you pass through these doors, you cease to be guests of the Resort, and become acolytes of Mistress Anjali. Please put your collars on, and proceed to a table inside."

With that, the doors were flung wide open, and the acolytes began to file into a transformed Ballroom. Heavy drapes and tapestries lined the walls. The lights were dim but not so low as to challenge anyone's eyesight. A dozen candles glowed on each round table atop burgundy tablecloths. But what caught the eye was the stage. Centered on it was a dais and throne - a literal throne - surrounded by cushions on the floor. Beyond this was an "X" cross, a set of stocks, a four-post brass bed, and a Nautilus inner thigh machine like you would see in a well-appointed gym.

There were no people on the stage at that moment, and most of the Dungeon and Activities staff were helping people find their pre-assigned seats at the round tables. No more than six people were at each table, and all chairs were on one side, so all seated could see the stage without turning.

"Bow down, slaves! Your Mistress comes!" boomed Master Paul's voice over a nearly maxed-out PA system.

B-movie Arabian Nights-style music blared out, and a procession of Dungeon subs and staff volunteers - dressed only in minimal loincloths - escorted Mistress Anjali to the dais. On her feet were calf-length leather boots with impossibly sharp toes and high stiletto heels, laced with gold filigree cords. About her waist was a wisp of a skirt made from totally see-through lace, which only slightly obscured the crotchless leather panties that hugged her hips. A leather bustier, cut to push up - not cover - her breasts, was laced tightly on her torso, her exposed breasts decorated with starburst nipple jewelry.

Tight leather gloves reached past her elbows, and on her head she wore a tiara that on close inspection was decorated with a series of intertwining cocks. Also on her head was a lightweight boom mike connected to a transmitter hooked to the laces of her bustier. She carried a long-corded flogger in her right hand, swishing it out occasionally to flick the ass or hips of the two subs walking immediately in front of her. As she mounted the stage, the subs all took positions on hands and knees at the foot of the dais.

Turning to the crowd, she said, "Be seated, acolytes. Subs may kiss my feet as I speak."

The nearest sub crawled forward and showered the pointy-toed boots with kisses, ignored completely by Anjali.

"Sex is supposed to be fun," Anjali said, launching directly into the evening. "It is mostly mental, punctuated by physical reaction and release. If it isn't fun, you either aren't doing it right or don't desire the people you're doing it with.

"BDSM, a rather broad term used to suggest some of the kinkier side of sexual activity, is also supposed to be fun. It can be painful – excruciatingly so – and often purposely plays on emotions other than pleasure. However, if half way through a session you find yourself reviewing next week's 'to-do' list, or you don't feel truly satisfied and gratified when the scene is over, you should stop and try something different. Everyone, please say the safe word..." The lecture continued for another fifteen minutes, describing the night's activities, and goals for the training to follow.

Anjali and the Dungeon staff took their lifestyle choices very seriously, and wanted other people to understand the extent of the enjoyment to be garnered from such a choice. There were lectures and demonstrations of equipment usage, toys, clamps, restraints, sensory deprivation devices, pony play, humiliation, bukkake and other bondage techniques, and even water sports. There was even a section of the evening devoted to describing activities that fell outside the BDSM tenet of "Safe, Sane, Consensual." Some people looked shocked that such things were practiced, and one couple was so shaken by it that they forfeited the rest of the evening and quietly left.

The demonstrations were each followed by a review of basic personal and sexual safety practices like meeting playmates in non-sexual public settings first, careful and clear negotiation, and the advantages of group play. By the end of the first hour and a half Cindy was squirming in her dampened seat. Her pussy gushed as she imagined herself being strapped into the Nautilus machine and taken by a man hung like a horse. Ben's cock ached from swelling to full staff, shrinking, then ballooning again so many times. They were both taken unawares as Mistress Claudia chose Ben for a role play demonstration with Master Paul and led him to the stage.

Paul led Ben through a discussion of restraint, asked him about his limits and how willing he was to stretch, then described exactly how he wanted to top Ben. Cindy felt a wave of jealousy roll over her as she realized that her husband was going to be taken by a man she so strongly desired. It caught her by surprise to feel that way, and then realized that she was actually feeling envy and felt her pussy gush even more at the thought of seeing her man experiencing pleasure.

Ben was embarrassed beyond belief, blushing a fiery red, when Master Paul instructed him to squat right there on stage and remove his butt plug. Five minutes later Ben was bent over, his head and hands in the stocks. His mouth was stuffed with a strap-on worn by Mistress Dana, and his ass was being plowed by Master Paul's magnificent organ. Mistress Claudia was discussing the application and removal of clamps to stave off or precipitate orgasm, and as she spoke a sub attached a pair of alligators to Ben's nipples, then hung one-ounce weights from them. Ben moaned and winced in pain, but never tried to remove the fake cock from his mouth to speak any word of protest.

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