Spice Plantation Ch. 01

I landed blows on her back and legs, across her flanks and onto the taut globes of her hanging breasts, even catching a nipple with a snapping leather end a couple of times. Twice I stopped and used my fingers to penetrate her tunnel, wetting them with her flowing juices, and then pushing a slick finger into her rear hole. Then I finally delivered a dozen really hard strokes to her unprotected ass before dropping the whip and moving behind her to push my rigid cock into her hot and waiting pussy. I stroked in and out only two or three times and then pulled out completely, bringing another groan from the bound woman. I quickly added a blob of KY to the end of my already slick member and immediately began to push it against her puckered rear hole.

As you might imagine from my description of her, Judy's rear is incredibly tight, but her tremendous muscle control let her relax herself so I could push inside. The first time we tried anal sex it was new to both of us and I took a long time warming her up and penetrating. We discovered we both loved this activity and since then had gone the "back door route" a number of times and Judy had learned to relax herself at will. Now I slid in to the hilt in one long slow stroke. It was still an incredibly tight tunnel, but that was totally under Judy's control as she clamped down hard enough to produce unbelievable pleasure for both of us. I held myself fully embedded for at least a whole minute and then began to move in and out. Judy was also using her muscles to increase our mutual enjoyment and I could sense her arousal increasing by the second. After a dozen slow, long in and out strokes Judy suddenly gasped, "Now, Paul! Fuck me. Fuck my ass hard." At that encouragement I lost any inclination to go slowly and rammed myself in hard and deep and both of us immediately started to come.

A few minutes later I kissed her back one more time and slowly removed my shrinking tool. I released her from the vault but left her cuffs in place. As soon as she was free, Judy turned and put her arms around my neck for another of those wonderful full body kisses. This almost had me ready to take her again right then, but I brought myself under control and we both ducked into the bathroom for a few seconds to wipe ourselves clean.

When we came back out I pulled the leather lounge over near the fireplace. This is a custom built piece, leather covered and wide enough for both of us to lie on at the same time. We have to lie pretty close, of course, but that's certainly not a problem. The lounge leaves us half lying, half sitting. I arranged Judy on her back on one side and fastened her wrists to the frame behind her head. I spread her ankles and anchored them at the foot. This left her open and available and before I did anything else I stopped to suck on her nipples until both were standing out, swollen and hard. Then I ran my tongue across her stomach and swirled it around her belly button.

I added another log to the fire and arranged a small reading light. Then I took the journal and settled on the longue beside my beautiful captive where I could both read the book and casually stroke, caress and tease her bound body. I intended that this was going to be a long night. The wind blew the snow hard outside the curtained windows as I opened my uncle's journal and began to read.

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January 14, 1922.

I may really have done it today. We had a meeting this afternoon of all the so-called executives. I had spent the morning with three foremen trying to straighten out a problem on the line and was in a bad mood anyway. I was late for the meeting which I knew was going to be a waste of time. It was supposed to be about some advertising policy about which I really had nothing to say and I needed the time to work on real production problems. If I couldn't get these solved, there wouldn't be anything to advertise at all. I went straight to the meeting without bothering to get my coat, tighten my tie, or even roll my sleeves back down. My hands probably even still smelled of fish. Of course I know the president has a real problem with managers who do not dress as he expects, but I was too tired and harried to care. Then to make matters worse, when I came into the meeting - late, as I said - Mr. Campbell stopped everything and just looked at me. "Need a little longer to get ready, Alex?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

I shouldn't have, but I couldn't seem to help myself and answered, "No, sir. I'm ready."

Everything seemed to freeze for several seconds and then Mr. Campbell just gave me a hard look and then went on with the meeting. For the rest of the time he acted as though I wasn't there at all. I'm afraid I had better start looking at the want ads again.

January 15.

Well, my guess was right. When I got to my office this morning, there was already a message that Mr. Campbell wanted to see me. This time I did take time to make sure my appearance was up to what he would expect, but that was no help. He didn't beat around the bush at all, but gave me my walking papers with only a couple of sentences of comment. I doubt if I will get a favorable recommendation. In fact he told me to clean out my desk and be gone by noon.

Later

Perhaps there is some balance in the universe. After I left the factory - before noon - I went to the Laird's Inn for a bite to eat and perhaps a pint or two while I could still afford it. I also needed to think about finding another job. As I sat down, Millie, the barmaid, came over and said, "Oh, Mr. Alex. Such luck that you would come in today. The gentleman at the table over there was just asking after you. Someone told him you might be found here or at least maybe he could learn where to find you. But now that you're here, I'll just tell him."

Before I could ask anything else, she was gone and a few seconds later the man in question came over and asked it he could join me. I watched as he approached me. He was not tall - about five foot six - and had the look of someone who usually worked with books and papers. Still, he was well built and in good condition, with a smooth stride, well muscled, and not at all fat. Most striking was his deep tan, not something that was common in wintertime Britain. He stopped next to the table and said, "Mr. Alex Robertson? I'm Nathan Clark. A Mr. Fred Hill recommended I get in touch with you. Do you mind if I join you and buy you some luncheon?"

Freddy Hill was an old army mate of mine. We weren't really close and I had last seen him here in this inn about eight months ago. I had no idea why he would recommend me for anything, but my curiosity was aroused - not to mention that until I knew where or even if I would be working, I didn't mind having someone else buy my food. I stood and shook hands with Mr. Clark and invited him to sit.

We ordered food and drink and when Millie had gone I finally said, "Well, I certainly want to thank you for the meal, Mr. Clark, but I have no idea how I might help you or why Freddy would recommend me. In fact, I don't know what he seems to have recommended me for."

Mr. Clark smiled and replied, "You're most welcome Mr. Robertson, but it may be that it is I who can do something for you. I happened to meet Mr. Hill in Rome a week ago. You see, I'm here on a combination of holiday and recruitment mission. I understand you are a production manager for a salmon canning factory. Correct?"

Not wanting to admit that my stint in this position had ended an hour earlier, I merely nodded. He went on. "I work as the chief accountant and business manager for a plantation which produces spices and some teas. We are looking for a general production manager to replace the man who will be leaving. Our requirements are somewhat unorthodox and Mr. Hill seemed to think I might find you to our liking. From what I've been able to learn already, I think you just might be. Let me tell you a little about our operation and ask a few questions to see if you might be interested."

I nodded again. I was certainly interested in at least listening to him. Working outdoors in a climate which obviously was a far cry from Scotland's cold and wet winter would have held my interest even had I still been employed. As it was, it seemed as though it might have been fate which brought Mr. Clark into my world. The only thing which really concerned me was that if Mr. Clark went around locally and asked questions about me, he might find that I had held four jobs in the last eighteen months and had been let go from each of them. In each case there was never a complaint about my work - in fact, quite the opposite. The problem was that I could not stand the artificial rules placed on me, such as the coat and tie which had caused my most recent dismissal. I am a very independent minded individual and one might even say a non-conformist. I have given serious thought to relocating in the United States or Canada, as I have been led to believe that, especially in the western parts, such behavior is not uncommon or resented. (I have also heard that the women are somewhat more relaxed and non-conformist in those areas.) I can follow rules when there is a reason and did so in the army enough to earn three stripes on my sleeve and ended my tour as a sergeant. However, silly rules and such nonsense rub me the wrong way. That's why I also lost three stripes in the army, even though I did earn them back each time.

"Go right ahead, Mr. Clark, I'm interested. However, it might be easier if you called me Alex."

"Thank you, Alex. And I'm Nate. Well, as I said I work on a spice plantation located in the south Pacific Ocean. The plantation occupies an entire island which is about twenty square miles in extent. The plantation is owned by an ex-German named von Holt. We assume he has a first name but no one has ever heard it. In fact, we suspect he even awarded the 'von' to himself. He was born in Germany, but left the country when he was only two and has never been back. He has no feeling about the war and holds no opinions either for or against either side. In fact, the island itself is probably owned by the French. I say probably, because there is some dispute in the region between the Dutch and the French, but surprisingly neither country seems to much care. Von Holt gives a sum of money each year to both the French and Dutch factors in the area and neither involves himself. That area of the world is somewhat isolated to say the least. Even though many of the areas are nominally owned by France, Germany, Netherlands, or even Britain, no one pays much attention to the home countries. In fact, for all we saw in our small area of islands, the Great War might as well not have taken place."

This statement really surprised me. There were a great number of men, myself included, who would like to forget that the Great War ever took place. We couldn't. Many of the things we saw will be with us forever and I can only hope they fade with time. A place that had ignored it sounded more desirable than Eden.

He sat back and hesitated a second. Finally he said, "I should explain that Herr von Holt is a somewhat unusual man. He owns the plantation in its entirety along with the entire island. He is the only government which has sway there and can decide everything from work assignments, to hiring and firing, to civil and criminal justice. But he is far from a draconian despot and is actually a rather enlightened ruler. Some of his rules may seem strange, but I assure you that you will find none of them unpleasant."

"The plantation labor force is exclusively from the native population of one of the neighboring islands. This place was only discovered by Westerners about thirty years ago and the people there have lived for centuries in a near paradise. Unlike some of the island tribes, they are not at all war like and get along mostly on fishing and gathering of the native fruits and vegetables. They are a pleasant, relaxed people and might even be described as somewhat child like in their attitude of wonder and play towards the whole world. But they are actually very intelligent and industrious and make excellent workers. Mr. von Holt offers them generous - in fact, much more than generous - wages and compensation and provides excellent living accommodations and food. He provides medical care and even runs a school to teach his workers to read and write. He does have certain work requirements, but all the workers know of them before signing on. There is never a labor shortage and never any complaints about his treatment of them. There are also several Westerners as supervisory staff. Myself, the General manager, a doctor and two nurses, a teacher, and two mechanics. Mr. von Holt himself is rarely there and satisfies himself with annual or semi-annual visits. The General manager and I pretty much run the place."

"If you are interested in the position and if I decide you are the man we want, you will be offered a four year contract, renewable at mutual agreement." He then named a sum that was four times what I was getting in Glasgow. And, I realized, there would be no taxes or travel, food, or housing expenses. It sounded far too good to be true.

He asked and I assured him I was at least interested. Then he smiled and said, "Now I'm going to ask you some questions and try to get your attitude on a few things. There are no right or wrong answers, so just try to tell me what you really think. As you can image we want someone who will really fit in with the plantation, and I will admit we have a few - call them 'quirks' - that I'll tell you about if we come to an agreement. Don't worry, if they bother you, you will still have a chance to back out." Now I was really getting curious. What sort of place was this? It already sounded like a private kingdom, but just what did this von Holt have going on there. I agreed to answer him truthfully and waited for his first question.

"What would you say if you were required to wear a formal uniform for work each day?"

He had hit one of my personal red flags. Sure, there were no right or wrong answers. I thought I saw the whole wonderful opportunity going up in smoke, but I answered, "I'm not sure I could agree to that. I can't stand formal clothing."

I was surprised when Mr. Clark nodded to himself and smiled. He didn't seem at all put out by my reply. "All right. What about religion? Do you have a problem with working with people of differing religions?"

"Not at all. I was raised as a Presbyterian, but I'll admit I'm not very faithful. I've worked with Catholics and Jews and even a couple of Arabs. What a man believes is between him and his God. It's not my place to tell him what to think. I don't care if a man is a pagan as long as he doesn't try to force me to be one."

Again Nate nodded to himself. "As I said all of our workers are native islanders. All are young - generally between about eighteen and thirty. We hire only single workers, both men and women. Tell me Alex, what is your opinion of sex?"

I nearly choked on my ale. Of course in the army the subject came up all the time, but in a job interview? How was I supposed to answer that? Then I decided I might as well say what I really thought. "I guess you mean between the workers? I'm not one to look down on anyone for doing what nature seems to have designed us to really enjoy. I don't give a fig if they're married or not. The only place I'd draw the line is if one of them didn't want it. I don't hold with rape in any form and I don't care if the woman is an island native, an English Lady, or even a Hong Kong prostitute. I will admit I have enjoyed my share of the young women of France during the war, but I never forced, bribed, or threatened my way. Most of the lads in the army felt the same way and the few times I heard of someone forcing himself, it seemed he usually met with an accident and spent some weeks in hospital."

Nate smiled at my enthusiasm and said, "I agree. But I was asking even a little broader. For example, what about activities between those of the same gender or among groups of more than two?"

Again I was surprised, but managed to swallow my drink without choking on it. "I feel sorry for such men. They can never know the full rapture available to the rest of us. But I have no animosity towards them. As for the second part of your inquiry, I will admit to once in France enjoying the bed of two lovely young mademoiselles. I was told that such things were not too uncommon in France and after that night I can certainly see why. I'm not sure our British girls are so open minded."

"Are you offended by nudity?"

Where was he getting these questions? "Nate, I spent three years in the army. You must know that the sight of other men in the shower and so on is not unusual. If you are referring to female nudity.." I stopped for a second and smiled. " ...then I'm only offended by it as much as by a beautiful sunset. I would not be unhappy if most women - at least the young, pretty ones - rejected clothing whenever possible."

Nate smiled at my somewhat flippant answer, but seemed satisfied. "All right. One more question. Mr. von Holt is firm about some crimes, such as theft or destruction of property or rape. They are very rare, but he believes in immediate punishment and if necessary the offender will pe punished and sent home immediately. As I told you, Mr. von Holt is the sole administrator of justice. If you were General manager you might find it necessary to carry out such duties. Do you feel you could?"

"I already told you how I feel about rape. As to the others, you say he is generous with the workers, so there should be no excuse for theft. I believe I would have no problem enforcing those rules."

"Very well, Alex. I will telegraph Mr. von Holt tonight and should receive a reply by early tomorrow. I can't promise anything yet, but I think things look very favorable. Perhaps we could meet here tomorrow at, say, six for dinner and perhaps discuss a possible contract?"

I still wasn't sure any of this was real, but I wasn't going to walk away. I know I'm a good manager and this plantation sounded like it might be a place I could work without being tossed out in three months. "Certainly, Nate, and I look forward to it. I think this might work out to the advantage of both of us."

January 16

I spent the day in my flat looking through the want ads in case the dream I experienced at lunch yesterday might not work out. At a quarter of six I left for the Laird's Inn and as I entered, two minutes before six, I saw Mr. Clark already seated at a table in the corner. I started towards him and when he noticed me he stood and smiled and waved me on over. From the look on his face I felt my hopes grow. "Good evening, Alex. I won't keep you waiting. Mr. von Holt agreed so I'm prepared to offer you a contract at the wages we discussed yesterday. But let's order dinner first."

My head was swimming but I still managed to order supper and an ale. During the day I had checked and my bank balance was a princely sum of twenty-seven pounds, eight. The wages Nate had mentioned yesterday would dwarf that in no time. Especially if I didn't need to pay for room or board. I hoped there wouldn't be too much in the way of special clothing or anything and I also wasn't sure how I could pay for a ticket to reach there - wherever there was.

Nate began to go over the details once again. The contract would be for four years at the wages he had discussed. There would be a house - not just a room, but a small house. All meals were included. Not only that but he already had a steamship ticket for Singapore, scheduled to depart on the twenty-sixth of this month. Ten days! Our meal came and we began to eat. Nate informed me he would be returning on the same ship so I wouldn't have to find my way alone.