Spice Plantation Ch. 07

Despite my surprise and sudden loss of confidence, I felt my rod immediately begin to swell. Susan moved up beside me. For a second she just stood with her arm around my waist as I gawked at the incredible view. Then she said, "We thought it only fair that you get a chance to get even for your initiation, Alex." Her hand dropped to her side and her sarong seemed to fall to the floor of its own volition. She quickly walked to the fourth bench and mounted it. "Strap me on, Alex, and then you can do what you like with us."

I started to protest, but Susan - and also the other three women - urged me on. They told me it would be a good chance for me to practice and, besides, they would enjoy it. Intellectually, I accepted this. And I certainly remember how sexually excited I had become on the receiving end during my initiation. I know how hot the punished women became each Seven Day session - How could I forget Tami! But I still had trouble accepting that these four wanted me to whip them.

I struggled with this for a long ten seconds or so before I gave in to their urging and my own lust and went over to pick up a cat. I moved behind the four young women and began to let my hand stroke slowly across this bounty of bare flesh. For several minutes I continued to stroke and feel, squeezing buttocks and breasts, lightly pinching nipples, and drawing my fingers along damp creases between spread legs. Then I started to drag the soft leather tails of the cat across backs and bottoms.

If I had had any question about the willingness of my four captives, it disappeared as I observed their reactions to the touch of the sliding leather and to the first light stings as I began to slap the lashes against their flesh. The sounds coming from the four women were more moan than anything else, I could see the dampness around the folds of their flesh, and I could actually smell their arousal. I forgot about my inhibitions and started increasing the strength of the blows as I had been taught and as I had seen them do themselves at punishment sessions.

I didn't concentrate on any one victim, but spread the lashes around. I began to increase the strength to the point where I could hear a satisfying snap and could see red marks begin to appear on the tanned flesh. Harder still until each lash was bringing a cry which was nearly drowned out by the passionate moans of the other victims. At their urging I began to strike elsewhere, stinging and lightly marking breasts, thighs, and flanks as well as backs and bottoms.

All four were trying to rub against the leather benches to stimulate themselves, but as I continued I noticed that both Joan and Susan seemed to be getting more excited that the others. My own member was sticking nearly straight out and pressing my sarong into an uncomfortable tent to the point where I reached down and released it, continuing my work dressed only in skin. I'm sure we five would have made a very strange - although very sexy - picture.

Suddenly as I landed a searing lash against Susan's hip and wrapped the tails into her open crack, she began to convulse in climax, accompanied my a loud cry. This seemed to set Joan off and she, too, started to shake as I quickly turned the flying leather tails on her.

Deborah and Jenny were both obviously very excited, but not quite so much as the first two women. I turned and delivered another half dozen hard strokes to their helpless bodies, raising their temperatures slightly, but not sufficiently for their release. Suddenly Jenny called out, "Take me, Alex. Fuck me hard."

The benches are of such a height that this would be an easy accomplishment, their spread openings of a height with my forward projecting tool. Still I hesitated. Perhaps because I had not done that for Susan. She must have sensed my reluctance because, still coming down from her own climax, she called out, "Go ahead, Alex. We all expect to be fucked before you let us up. Whip us with the other tools and fuck each of us, Kawi-Kawi. In any opening you want."

Here I was, whipping four bound and naked beauties, marking their lovely skin with red lines, and the one I thought I might be falling in love with was urging me to whip them some more and to fuck each of them in "any opening I wanted." My logical forebrain simply ceased to respond and the deeply buried center of lust must have gained control, because this idea seemed to make perfect sense.

I dropped the cat and picked up a long, limber riding crop. I gave Joan and Susan each a couple of quick slaps with the instrument and them began to concentrate on Jenny and Deborah. I left red lines from the leather encased shaft and red triangles from the flat end loop on bottoms, thighs, and breasts. The two girls screamed but arched for more of the punishment. They were obviously becoming more excited - as was I. Jen and Deb were side by side on the center two benches, Joan to Deb's right and Susan to Jen's left. This made it easy for me to concentrate on the two of them. Suddenly, after a hard stroke, Jen cried out again, "Fuck me, Kawi-Kawi. Please fuck me."

I could wait no longer and moved up behind her, pushing my turgid rod against her soaking and puffed inner lips. I slid inwards in one long slide which didn't end until my thighs met her hot, red buttocks. The cry that escaped her lips was one of release but the simultaneous cry from Deb was one of frustration. Even as I began to plunge in and out of Jen's tight tunnel, I raised the crop and delivered another stinging slash to Deb's unprotected rear.

For a half dozen strokes I pushed myself in to the limit and pulled back out nearly to the point of loss. Then I withdrew completely, Jenny's moan of frustration loudly protesting the act, and moved behind Deb, where I thrust forward, impaling her deeply. I used the crop on Jenny as I drove in and out of her friend for another half dozen strokes. Then I reversed once more. I continued to alternate in this manner for several minutes. It was necessary for my own part if I wanted to prolong my own climax. If I had taken even one additional stroke in either girl before withdrawing, I'm sure I would not have been able to stop. As it was Jen started to convulse in orgasm just as I pulled free of her clutching flesh and moved back over to Deborah. By now I was also nearly lost and as I began to plunge in and out of Deborah's grasping muscles I knew I could not make another cycle. In another three strokes I was pumping my juices into her willing body, an act which seemed to trigger her own orgasm.

At the urging of the four women, I left them bound to the benches for the next two hours, during which I demonstrated my newly acquired skills with cat, crop, and the single tailed whip. As I continued my confidence returned and I realized that much of my use of the instruments had become almost instinctive. The less I thought about what I was doing, the more the devices seemed an extension of my hand and did what I actually wanted them to do. Only once did I estimate incorrectly and landed a stroke on Deborah's rear which snapped too hard and actually broke the skin slightly. She screamed, but when I started to profusely apologize, she quickly stopped me and said that she would forgive me only if I kissed it to make it better and then fucked her. It didn't take me to long to agree to this solution.

By the time I finally released the women, all were marked with many red areas, but none looked severe. All (except Deb's small cut) will probably be gone by tomorrow. All were also satisfied sexually and assured me they had enjoyed everything. I had also reached climax myself an astonishing seven times. As Susan and I made our way back to my hut, I said she would have to wait - maybe a few days - until I recovered. She laughed, kissed my ear and ran her tongue around the inside. "Well, maybe at least a couple of hours," she said. Later that night she proved she was right.

March 19 ( Seven Day )

Just before noon today von Holt's boat, a rather large sail craft, arrived and tied up at the dock. All the staff, dressed in our sarongs, went down to the dock to meet him. The crew appeared to be all island natives and all male. They expertly brought the craft alongside the dock and quickly made it fast with ropes fore and aft. A few seconds later a gangplank filled the short space between the deck and the dock.

We all watched as four figures made their way from somewhere on the foredeck, down the gangplank, and onto the dock. The first was obviously von Holt. He was a tall man, perhaps even a little taller than myself. A healthy tan covered his exposed skin which was considerable as he wore only a short sarong. He had blonde hair, cut medium short and combed in a conventional style. I guessed his age at late forties, but he was in very good physical shape for this age. Perhaps he is younger. He moved along the dock directly to Nate and, although his feet were bare, I almost imagined hearing his heels click together.

He and Nate shook hands and exchanged friendly greetings. However, I will admit I don't recall exactly what he said. My attention was focused on the three others behind him. There as a pale blonde woman, nearly six feet tall, huge eyes of a light blue color. Her skin, although tanned, was a light color, giving her a definite Scandianian appearance. Next to her, appearing almost short in comparison, but actually quite tall herself, was a woman probably of Spanish origin. Her dark eyes and long dark hair and sharply sculpted face reminded me of the daughter of a Spanish Grandee of the sixteenth century. The third was obviously of Asian ancestry. I couldn't tell if she was from the mainland of Asia or the near island chains. She truly was tiny, perhaps only five feet tall. Again, long dark hair and dark eyes, but with an oriental shape, lent her face an aura of mystery and promise often associated with the East. All three women were in their mid twenties and all were truly beautiful, well formed with excellent figures and lovely faces. All three were completely nude.

I heard Nate mention my name and was able to turn towards von Holt in time for him to introduce me. "Herr von Holt, this is our new general manager, Alex Robertson. You remember he's been with us since mid February."

"Of course," von Holt replied. "Mr. Robertson, it is a pleasure to meet you in person. How are you finding our little enterprise?"

Von Holt spoke excellent English, with only a small trace of a German accent. He presented a very friendly smile and extended his hand. I shook it in response and answered, "It is indeed a true pleasure to meet you, Sir. I would also like to express my profuse thanks at giving me this opportunity. In the short time I have been here, I have come to love both the job and the people associated with it. I could not think of a better position." I had been told that, although von Holt ran the plantation in a truly enlightened and relaxed manner, he still retained an affection for the Teutonic form and expected formal responses. He always addressed the staff by surname and expected the same in return. Still, as I realized that my remarks about 'loving the people' and 'no better position' could be, perhaps, taken to have another meaning, I noticed what I thought might be a quick smile at the corners of his eyes. If he did take it as such, he made no mention.

Von Holt spoke to the rest of the staff members, shaking hands with each, men and women alike. Then he introduced the three women. "These are my companions, Greta, Maria, and Su-lei." He introduced each of the staff in turn. Each of the three spoke to each of us in response and all spoke fluent English. However, unlike their reserved leader, each of the three greeted us less formally. Instead of shaking hands with the men, each girl wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a most deep and intimate kiss, pressing her bare body against him from shoulder to knee. They were only slightly less restrained with the women, hugging them tightly, bare breasts to bare breasts, and kissing them on the cheeks.

After the "introductions" we all made our way back towards the main building. As we passed, many of the native workers waved and cheered at von Holt who acknowledged them with a formal wave of his own and, in a number of cases, by recognizing the worker by name. I was surprised at this, but quickly saw that von Holt, although he was absent most of the time, took a real interest in his workers, both Western and natives.

Since it was near noon, we went directly to the dining room where a luncheon was set out, buffet style. Von Holt, without seeming to try, directed the seating so that he was at one end of the long table, flanked by Susan and Joan. The two nurses sat next to them. Then on one side was Bob, Maria, and George. On the other was myself, Greta, Nate, and Su-Lei. The order didn't seem important until I realized that the three women had been placed so they were surrounded by the men of the staff. I first noticed this when Greta began to run her hand up and down my leg, even reaching slightly under my sarong and Maria started rubbing her foot against my calf. I glanced around and noticed that the other men seemed to be receiving similar attention and recalled Susan's remarks about von Holt's traveling companions being nymphomaniacs or the next thing to them. I decided this was going to be an interesting visit.

I stole glances to see if von Holt was behaving in a similar manner, but only noticed that he had a tendency to place his hands on Joan and Susan as he spoke to them. However, each time I heard him speak, he addressed them as "Dr. Hartley" and "Miss Butler." Formal to a fault, perhaps, but I thought I noticed that all four of the women were slightly more flushed than usual. His reputation? Their past experience with him? Or, for that matter, I had no idea what was going on under the table.

After lunch Nate and I began a general tour of the plantation with von Holt, while the rest of the staff went back to their jobs. The three women accompanied us on the tour; however, they didn't interfere with our conversations, contenting themselves with looking around and frequently talking with the native workers, especially the men. I did notice they had no hesitation at close physical contact with those with whom they spoke.

Von Holt was extremely knowledgeable about the plantation and its operations. He seemed to accept my level of knowledge as reasonable for someone who had been here such a short time and, although we maintained formal address in our conversations, I quickly began to relax in his presence.

We returned to the main building where von Holt, Nate, and I moved into Nate's office to discuss the details of recent activities and the financial state of the operation. The three women left us at that point and I have no idea where they went or what they did. Perhaps to "observe" Bob and George? We spent about an hour and a half going over the paperwork. Then, as we leaned back from the last report, von Holt remarked, "Very good. I see it is nearly time to end the working day. Today is Seven Day, I believe. Is there a punishment session scheduled?"

I was so surprised by the question that I sat still, unable to speak, but was saved embarrassment by Nate, who replied, "Yes, there is. I believe there are three men and three women and Susan and Alex are going to be administering the strokes."

"Very good," von Holt said again. "Now if you will excuse me, the girls and I will meet you at the hut before you start. Do a good job, Mr. Robertson." With this he stood and left the room.

I turned to Nate and asked, "He really understands what goes on at these sessions, doesn't he? I mean I don't have to change anything because he's here, do I?"

Nate smiled. "No, the punishments will be carried out as usual. The only difference will be after, when I expect the three men will be the guests of von Holt's women for a good part of the night." At my questioning look he continued, "Look, Alex, I'm sure Susan explained that von Holt's women are, to put it mildly, enthusiastic about sex. Watch them while the men are being whipped. I'll bet they are more aroused than any of the native girls."

"Oh, and, Alex, don't be surprised if one or more of them invite you for some play while they are here."

I hadn't really considered this. "If that happens, should I accept?" I finally asked.

Nate laughed. "That's up to you. But if you don't you'll miss out on a real experience. Just be sure you're rested first. I'll see you and Susan at the shed in a few minutes." With that he left me standing there, more confused than I had been since my arrival. I stood there for a minute or so and then shrugged to myself and went to find Susan.

"It doesn't end there, does it?" Judy asked almost desperately. "Not after that build-up, it just can't end here."

"No, not quite yet, but right now I think I want to do something besides reading. How about a little trip to the playroom?"

I could see her relax. "I could go for that as long as we can read the rest later today. Just what did you have in mind, Lover?"

"You need to ask? Oh, I guess you meant the particulars. Let's go downstairs and see what develops." I untied her and we made a trip to the bathroom and then, with our arms around each other's waists, we started down the stairs.

We entered the playroom and looked around at the various toys. Our gaze came to rest on one of the whipping benches I had built. Having just read the description of the ones used on the plantation, we were both struck by the similarity of our own device. The bench I had built consisted of a four by six beam, heavily padded and covered with black imitation leather. The beam was about three feet long and set a little over two feet above the floor on A-frame supports at either end and a third support in the middle. On each side there were two padded two by four shelves, each covered with the same smooth, black material. The two near one end were set eight inches below the top, while the two at the other end were several inches lower. The lower shelves were cantilevered out beyond the A-frame support, running from the central support to about a foot beyond the end support.

As we looked at this, I slowly said, "I think maybe I need some practice, like Alex."

"Yes, I think you might," Judy added, her voice growing husky. She moved to mount the bench. Judy knelt on the extended lower shelves, her shins on the padded surfaces, her feet extending down over the ends. She leaned forward along the length of the bench and rested her forearms on the upper shelves. Each of the shelves is equipped with straps to bind the victim's limbs and I tightened these around Judy's wrists, arms, and lower legs. This left her lying along the length of the bench, her lovely breasts hanging down, pressed against either side, her pubic bone pressed against the end of the beam and her beautiful, smooth ass sticking up invitingly. Her spread legs revealed both of her openings and I could see the moisture seeping down the inside of her thighs.

I went to the wall and returned with a soft leather cat. This one has a polished sixteen inch wood handle and nine soft leather tails. Each tail tapers from a half inch to about a quarter. I lifted the whip and made a couple of practice swings through the air. At the swishing sound I could see Judy react by clinching her buttocks. Her breathing had noticeably speeded up. I began to slowly drag the tails over her bare body, letting the soft leather slide over her thighs and buttocks, along her crack, and on over her back and the sides of her breasts.

I continued to tease her in this manner for several minutes. Then I stopped and moved alongside where I began to fondle her breasts and roll her nipples between my thumbs and fingers. Her nubs immediately became harder and I continued to squeeze and tug at them. I reached over and picked up a pair of clamps I had placed nearby and quickly let one close over her right nipple. I added the other to her left as she made a small moaning sound. I tugged on the clamps a couple of times and then added a small lead weight to each, before returning to using the leather tails to tease her some more.