tagGroup SexNew Horizons Ch. 1

New Horizons Ch. 1

byBob Peale©

Author's Note:


If you've read most of my stories before, you should probably be warned that THIS ONE IS DIFFERENT. This story has a bisexual story line. If male/male activities are not your thing, you probably won't like this one. Oh well; I'll catch you next time.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. Additional stories can be found at www.literotica.com. Just go to the Stories section, select Indexed By Author, and look for Bob Peale. While you're at it, check out some of the other great stories posted by other authors!

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author at mischief1@bigfoot.com.

Disclaimer: This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.


Sandy ran a hand through her hair one more time then pulled it back into a ponytail. She was wearing her usual "going to get her hair done" outfit, jeans and sweatshirt, but today she felt a little self conscious about it - after all, technically she was going to a "spa".

Someone in Houston or Dallas or Austin (the place changed every time she heard the story) had come up with the idea; outfit a monster Winnebago like a day spa and travel between a group of small towns on a regular schedule, bringing "big city pampering" as the slogan went. Sandy and her friends all snorted at the idea at first, but one by one they'd each gone and all raved about it. Everyone, that is, except Sandy, who'd held out until now, when she'd gotten a gift certificate this past Mothers' Day.

She drove down to the supermarket, which was the closest pickup point to her house. Not only did the spa roll from town to town, it also stopped at various places within a town to reach as many people as possible. You could get picked up and dropped off at any of them. She parked her car, locked it, and leaned against the door, waiting. It was warmer than she liked, and it wasn't long before her clothes clung uncomfortably to her. She tried to adjust them but nothing seemed to work; she wished she'd worn another outfit.

While she pulled at her bra and tried to get comfortable a shadow fell across the car. She looked up and saw the most garish thing she'd ever laid eyes on. Big and pink, it looked like a pastry on steroids. The driver's compartment was darkened so she couldn't see in, and the side door had been removed. It was bigger than other trailers she'd seen before, as wide as two cars and as long as three. There were no windows except up front, and "Heaven Help Us", the name of the spa, was etched in glittery paint across the side.

An effeminate man appeared from around back and waved her over. He wasn't any taller than her (5'6"), with shocking white hair cut a little long for her tastes, a round, soft jaw and full lips. His other features were non descript, but his body was muscularly compact, like a fitness instructor. He wore a one-piece spandex unitard that looked like a tank top and biking shorts from a distance. It was the same color as the spa, and as Sandy got closer she could see very clearly that he wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock was a thick swollen tube running several inches down the front of his thigh. It was obvious he was circumcised, and she was impressed at his ability to stand there indifferently.

"Sandy?" he asked brightly. She nodded.

"Well come on girl, what are you waiting for? There's only one Queen 'round here and it is surely not you!" he lisped exaggeratedly for her benefit.

She smiled and followed him into the trailer. Inside the walls and ceilings were draped with soft, billowy material in pastel colors, plush, overstuffed cushions were tossed about everywhere, and another door was set into a wall about 8 feet in front of her.

"I'm Lance, and I'll be doing your facial. This is the dressing room; after you disrobe, I'll take you back there," he said, gesturing toward the door.


"Honey, this is a spa, not 'Betty's Wash-N-Set'. How can we pamper you dressed like that," he pointed to her clothes.

Sandy blushed.

"If you're modest you can keep your bra and panties," he continued, removing her sweatshirt before she could protest.

She shooed him away when he tried to unsnap her jeans, but hurriedly kicked off her shoes and slid them down over her hips before he tried again. He looked over her body with a detached, clinical eye. She was no swimsuit model, but she'd always thought her body was ok. Her legs were still firm (she still joked that she could crack a walnut between her thighs) and her breasts hung nicely off her frame. Sure kids and housework had made her a little more round in some places but what she lacked in shape she made up for in enthusiasm. She got aroused quickly, and with the right stimulation could cum 2 or 3 times during a session.

She blushed deeper as his eyes traveled along her body. She'd never undressed in front of any man other than her husband, and she hadn't undressed in front of anybody else since high school gym. Of course, she hadn't expected to take her clothes off so her bra and panties didn't match. Her pink, string bikini panties clashed painfully with her white cotton bra. Her eyes strayed to his crotch. Was it swelling?? No, it had to be her imagination. He was gay - he had to be. How else could he parade around in that outfit in front of women all day? His gaze lingered a little longer, and then he brushed past her and selected a black silk short robe from several hanging on the wall.

"This should fit you nicely," he said, emphasizing the word "nicely."

He helped her into it and wrapped his arms around her, tying it in front. She felt his cock press into her flank and his arms brushed her tits just long enough to make her wonder if it was intentional.

With confident ease he grasped her above the elbow and led her through the door in the far wall. She found herself in a short, narrow corridor with five doors, one in front and two on each side. They entered the second door on the left, and she saw it contained a large chair soft looking chair, a table littered with beauty supplies, a sink designed for use with the chair, and a bonnet style hairdryer. Soft music surrounded them, and the gentle rhythm of the moving trailer felt soothing under her bare feet. He sat her down in the chair, fiddled behind her, and two padded leg rests rose to support her. He fiddled again and she reclined, the leg rests rising in the middle, forcing her to bend her knees, and sticking out at the ends to allow her to position her feet comfortably with her soles parallel to the floor. The robe fell away to reveal her pink clad crotch and she snatched it back into place. Lance chuckled.

"Your gift certificate is for the 'Pretty' treatment. You know that includes a manicure, pedicure, wash, color, cut and facial, right?" She nodded. "Great. Now because we are moving, I need to restrain you so you don't move around; otherwise, your nails and toes will look like you got them done at a carnival. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

Her heart hammered. Did he say restrain? Oh lord, this was going to be rough. One of Sandy's biggest fantasies was to be tied up and fucked. She'd tried to get her husband to do it but he told her she was being stupid, and she never brought it up again. Now, here she was, half naked, and about to be retrained. She shivered, and then blushed, afraid some how she'd revealed her thoughts. She shook her head mutely, indicating that she didn't have a problem. He fastened soft leather cuffs over her wrists, securing her to the arms of the chair, then attached similar cuffs from the leg rests around her ankles, tested their hold, and nodded. Sandy let out a low moan. This was more incredible than she'd ever imagined, and it wasn't even a sexual situation. She was immobile; pulling against the straps confirmed that she was held in place. Trying to move her legs caused her crotch to be exposed again. Lance looked at it but made no move to cover it. She shivered again, and this time felt herself moisten. Oh shit, she thought, I'm going to soak through my panties and he's going to know I'm turned on. Instead of inhibiting her, it made her even wetter.

"Ok, I'm going to start the facial," he said, as if this was the most natural thing in the world for him. "Once I've got it going, we'll start the manicure and pedicure."

He produced an eye-pack made of a black, gel-like material, and quickly covered her eyes. It had a medicinal smell, like menthol, but it was soothing and it totally blacked out any light. As her mind started to drift, the effect the bonds had on her intensified. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle a moan.

"Are you ok?" Lance asked teasingly.

"Yes, just a little warm," she said weakly.

In the recesses of her mind she registered that his lisp was gone, replaced by a strong sensual voice. His hands worked expertly on her face, massaging it, rubbing in oils and creams, turning the tight muscles to putty. Involuntarily she thought about his spandex covered cock and she tried to part her legs in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure on her clit.

"Now we'll apply the mud, then you have to sit for 30 minutes," she heard Lance say dreamily.

To Be Continued...

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