An Unusual Resort (currently open)

Cherubian

Ripple in the Water
Joined
Aug 1, 2010
Posts
2,209
[OOC: I am currently looking for a writers to continue the below introduction in the most exciting and interesting ways. This will likely require you to put on the mantle of DM and manage multiple characters as the protagonist explores the island.

If you are interested, please do not post in this thread but contact me via PM first. I can and will also give out more background information, or at least my thoughts on the background, that way]
 
The air had the scent of tropical blossoms and the distant hum of unidentifiable creatures, creating an intoxicating pattern of the exotic. I had arrived on the island a few hours ago, and found the scenery was even better than in the ad. I counted myself lucky to have found the discounted offer online. Three weeks in an exclusive wellness resort away from my grueling daily routine as homicide detective. Now, my bare feet padded softly against the cool tiles of the hallway, the thin robe barely concealing my toned body and ample breasts.

Bright sunlight streamed into the massage room from an open window, accompanied by a gentle wafting breeze that carried with it the sweet scent of the ocean. Inside I met an elderly attendant who greeted me with a croaking whisper. "Welcome Miss Clarkson. Would you please remove your robe and lie on the massage table face down?". His eyes, gleamed with a hunger that sent a brief shiver down my spine.

With trembling hands, I untied the belt of my robe and let it slip to the floor, leaving me naked. I felt a rush of vulnerability, a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. He gestured for me to climb onto the massage table, his eyes never leaving my body. The padding was surprisingly firm, the smoothness of the leather a stark contrast to the softness of the towels beneath me. As I lay down, the masseur entered, a towering figure with bulging muscles and a stern, unreadable expression. His eyes swept over me, and I could feel his hunger as he took in my curves. He wasted no time in starting the massage, his strong hands gliding over my shoulders and down my back, the oil warming my skin.

To my surprise the attendant did not leave. I sighed contentedly as the masseur's thumbs dug into my tight muscles, the pressure just right. He had a skilled touch, and I forgot about the peculiarity of the situation. His movements grew more deliberate as his hands moved lower, tracing the contours of my body with a firmness that was comforting. He climbed onto the table and straddled me, his legs pressing into the sides of my lower back as he leaned over to reach my shoulders.
 
There was a brief rustling of cloth, but I remained lost in the sensation of his fingers kneading my flesh. The thought that he might be unzipping his pants flitted through my mind, but the intensity of the massage kept me from questioning it. That is, until I felt the tip of his erect cock at my entrance. My eyes snapped open, but it was too late. With a brutal, unannounced thrust, he penetrated me, making me scream out in a mix of pain and surprise. His weight bore down on my back, muffling my voice as the air was forced from my lungs. My hands reached for anything to grab hold of, but only finding the cool, slick leather of the table beneath me.

He began to move, his strokes deep and powerful, the sound of his hips slapping against my buttocks echoing in the quiet room. Panic surged through my veins, but the initial shock quickly began to give way to something else. A warm, tingling sensation grew within me, my body betraying my mind's protests, stifling my desire to fight back against my assailant. My thoughts raced, trying to comprehend what was happening, trying to formulate a plan of action, but my traitorous loins welcomed the intrusion. I felt my muscles tighten around him, a silent invitation for more, and my breathing grew ragged as I succumbed to the carnality of the situation.

The masseur's grunts grew louder as he laid atop me, his weight pinning me down, his movements growing more erratic. He was close. And so was I. Despite the objective horror of the situation, the pressure building within me was undeniable. Whimper started escaping my lips, and his pace quickened, his cock pounding into me with a ferocity that was ...exhilarating. My body tensed, and the world narrowed to the point of his cock inside me. The sensations were overwhelming, a maelstrom of pleasure and pain that crashed over me as I reached my orgasm. It was intense, unlike anything I had ever experienced. The room spun, and for a brief moment, I lost all sense of self.

As the wave of pleasure subsided, so did the masseur's thrusts. He groaned, his body shuddering as he filled me with his seed. I felt used, violated, but also strangely satisfied. He pulled out of me, making me feel unpleasantly vacated. The attendant handed him a towel, a knowing look passing between them. But as the masseur left the room to my shock he was replaced by another man, equally as muscular and thuggish, who was already hard and waiting his turn.

The new masseur's touch was different, rougher, more demanding. He didn't bother with pleasantries, immediately plunging into me as if claiming his prize. The room spun as his thick, veiny cock pummeled me, the sensation of being filled so completely both terrifying and exhilarating. I could feel the previous man's cum mixing with the fresh invasion, a warm, slick mess that only served to drive me closer to the edge. His grip was like iron, his hands digging into the flesh of my waist as he held me in place for his relentless assault, his hips smacking into my ass as he reached his climax. He roared, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his hot, sticky seed. The feeling of his release sent me spiraling over the edge, my second orgasm crashing into me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath and leaving me trembling in its wake.

As the second masseur pulled out, a third took his place. He again wasted no time, climbing atop me and pushing into me without a word, his eyes locked onto the reflection of my face in the mirror on the wall. The sight of my distress and arousal seemed to fuel his lust, his strokes becoming more violent and less calculated. The attendant stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he watched the scene unfold. He whispered "Put her into her place ...", and the masseur grinned wickedly in anticipation.

This third man was the most brutal yet. His thrusts were deep and punishing, as if he were trying to claim ownership over my body. My cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were glazed over with lust as I met his gaze in the mirror. His hands moved to my shoulders, holding me down as he fucked me with all his strength. My nails dug into the leather, leaving half-moon indentations as I tried to anchor myself against the onslaught of pleasure. A low moan escaped my throat, and the masseur's grin widened. He knew he had me, and the power he had over me was intoxicating. He leaned over, his hot breath on my neck, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin as he whispered "You are mine, little slut ...". My body responded with a shiver, and he took that as his cue to go even harder, faster, pushing me close to the brink. "And now I will fill your needy hole with my spunk ..." came the whisper close to my ear. I could feel the tension in his body as he neared his own climax, and that only served to get me to my own peak. My body shuddered beneath him, the intensity of my third orgasm almost too much to bear. My pussy rippled along the length of his rigid shaft, milking him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. His grip tightened, and his own climax followed quickly. He plunged into me deeply and held his cock there as he emptied himself into me.

The attendant clapped his hands together, his cackling laugh echoing through the room. He spoke again "You used her well ...". The third masseur withdrew, his cock starting to soften and gleaming with both our juices. He winked at me before exiting the room, leaving me gasping and trembling on the massage table.

The elderly aide approached, his eyes glinting with glee as he traced the lines of my body with a gnarled finger, leaving a trail of sticky oil in his wake. "Very good, Miss Clarkson," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You are indeed a fine fuck toy."
 
I was too spent to react, my body feeling both used and oddly alive. The mix of emotions was a jumble inside me, but I knew one thing - I needed to get out of there. With trembling legs and gathering all my strength, I finally managed to sit up. The attendant handed me my robe, his smile never wavering as he watched me struggle to compose myself while he admired my heavy heaving breasts.

"Your treatment will continue tomorrow at the same time," he said, his tone a blend of satisfaction and instruction. "Rest well tonight, Miss Clarkson. You will need your strength."

I took the robe, pulling it around my body and knotting the belt tightly, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. My legs wobbled as I slid off the table, the musky scent of sex hanging heavily in the air. I couldn't believe what had just happened, my mind racing with the implications of the resort's true intentions. As I stumbled out of the room, my thoughts were a whirlwind of anger, fear, and a strange, inexplicable excitement. I had to get to my quarters, to process what had occurred and decide what to do next. The hallway was eerily quiet, the only sounds my bare feet slapping against the tiles and my ragged breathing.

Once inside my suite, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, my body still trembling. I looked around the luxurious space. The plush carpet and expensive furniture now seemed tainted by the depravity that lurked beneath the resort's facade. The need to cleanse my body was overwhelming, and I quickly made my way to the en-suite bathroom. The shower's spray washed over me, the hot water mixing with the sweat and cum that clung to my skin. Once the water ran clear, I stepped out of the shower. The towel was rough against my sensitive flesh, and I took my time drying off. When I was done, I didn't bother with clothes. Instead, I padded over to the bed and flopped down onto my stomach, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my forced orgasms.

The coolness of the sheets against my skin was a stark contrast to the heat that still radiated from my body. I rolled over onto my back and lay there, naked and exposed, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. My thoughts were a tumult of emotions - anger, fear, and a disturbingly overwhelming sense of arousal that I couldn't shake. I stared at the ceiling, my mind kept drifting back to the moments of raw, primal pleasure that had been forced upon me. Despite the horror of the situation, my body had responded with a hunger that both shocked and shamed me. I could feel the echoes of each powerful thrust, the way my muscles had clenched around their invading cocks, begging for more. The memory of their hands on me, the way they had taken control, sent a shiver down my spine. The thought of enduring this daily ritual for the duration of my stay was almost too much to bear. I knew I should be planning my escape, but a part of me was curious about what other "treatments" this island had in store. My mind was a battleground of instinct and logic, fear and arousal.
 
Not a bad first day for those six, the old man thought as he began writing up his notes on Miss Clarkson. Two very positive responses and only one problematic. Miss Andrews was the big problem. Cried and wanted to go home. I had to send her to the special training facility. She’s such a pretty thing, I do hope they can do something with her.

Just then he was interrupted by the cleaning girl, come to take care of the massage room.

“Hello Gina,” he said to the pert twenty-five year old. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Anything I can do for you. Signore?” she asked sweetly.

“I think so, girl,” he said. “Just as soon as I finish my notes. Go ahead with your work.”

He returned to his notes, looking up now and again to watch Gina freshen the massage room.

A very positive response from Miss Clarkson, he noted in the log. Completely acceptant when I said she was a good fuck toy. Not surprising, seeing how she gave in to all three fucks, and had a lovely orgasm with each.

He finished his notes just before Gina finished with the massage room and signaled for her to come over..

“Give this old cock some relief,” he told her as he unzipped. “ Eighteen times today I’ve watched other men cum in the cunts of beautiful women, and I haven’t cum once. Stiffen this withered old prick with those lovely lips of yours, Gina.”

“Si, Signore,” she said with a smile and then knelt down to draw his cock between her lips.

Relieved by the girl, he was off to the debriefing with the massage teams.

“Miss Williams and Miss Clarkson were both incredibly receptive today,” he observed to the nine men. “I want the teams who did them to change places tomorrow. Johnny, Freddo, and Joe, you take Clarkson. We can take the two girls further. Let’s see about getting them cock hungry next.”

The next day went pretty smoothly, and it was finally time for Miss Clarkson.

“Please disrobe and get up on the table, Miss Clarkson,” he said as she arrived for her session. “On your back today, if you please.”

When she was in position, he stepped up and began gently massaging her temples with his fingers.

“You did seem to have some pleasure in yesterday’s treatment.” he noted. “I hope you’ll find today’s session as enjoyable.”

He continued to speak softly as he massaged her temples, and, when she seemed sufficiently relaxed, he signaled for Joe to come in and start massaging her tits with some warmed stimulating oil.
 
An inner voice tells me I should protest, jump off the table and out of Joe's grasp. But I do not.

Instead I lie still, my heavy breasts on display and available for everyone, accepting whatever kind of treatment is in store for me. I feel a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. Despite the forceful nature of my first experience, my body had responded in ways I had never felt before. The memory of the masseurs' cocks inside me, the way they had claimed my body, filled me with curiosity and a dark hunger. It was as if my body was trying to convince me that what had happened was okay, that it had enjoyed the illicit attention. I knew it was wrong, but yet I had shown up. And the anticipation grew with each passing second.

The attendant's gentle touch on my temples is surprisingly calming. His voice a soothing purr, guiding me to relax as Joe's powerful hands began to warm the oil between my breasts. The sensation was different this time, more calculated, and it sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

Is this just the calm before the storm, though?

"What will happen today?" I ask the attendant in a hushed tone, trying to get a glimpse of the future.
 
This resort is devoted to pleasure, Miss Clarkson,” he said softly, “and I promise you today will be as filled with pleasure as was yesterday.”

He looked up at Joe as he spoke, and Joe redoubled his attention to Samantha’s breasts, his fingers finding the places and touches that elicited the greatest response.

“A day of pleasure. Miss Clarkson,” he continued. “Here at the massage room, at the restaurants, in your room, and tonight we have a special dinner-dance planned. A true treat for a budding hedonist like yourself.”

He signaled for Freddo and Johnny to join Joe at the massage table. Each took a leg and massaged it with warm oil sensuously applied, starting at the top of her thighs and working their way slowly down to her feet. Much attention was paid to her feet, massaging them firmly, particularly in the region that reflexologists have found connects to the sexual organs.

“Yes, Miss Clarkson, you are a budding hedonist. You respond so well to pleasure, and a beautiful woman like yourself deserves such pleasure.”

Joe focused on Samantha’s nipples now, while his fellow masseurs began working their way back up her legs. This time they continued past her thighs, massaging her abdomen and combining their touch on her vee. They gently spread the cleft below her delta and Freddo pleasured her nub while Johnny toyed with the entrance to her womanhood.

“Dinner will be at eight, Miss Clarkson,” the old man whispered. “A party dress will be delivered to your room at six.”

He continued to massage her temples and speak softly to her as the three men brought her to the edge of an orgasm. At his signal they stopped, leaving her to tremble for a few moments before he signaled them to start again.
 
As these six hands play my body like a musical instrument I pondered why I lie still and let them toy with me like that. Was it the thrill of the unknown, the danger of the situation? Or was it the raw power they exuded that made me want to submit? The base craving to get my carnal urges sated, just like yesterday. The attendant's words played in my mind, "A budding hedonist." Was I?

The thought of what the evening might hold was both terrifying and exhilarating. A dinner-dance, and what else? What would make it 'special', more of these "treatments"? I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Their hands' dance on my body brings me to the brink of pleasure only to pull away, leaving me craving more. It was atorment, a delicious torment, but torment nonetheless.

"Why did they stop?" I ask the attendant as I look up into his eyes.
 
“Hush, Miss Clarkson,” he said as he kissed you lightly on the forehead. “You must trust us. We’re here to lead you to all the pleasures that you crave, to satisfy all those desires hidden deep within your mind and body. Just leave it all to us.”

He ran his middle finger softly over your lips, telling you once again to hush.

“We’ll help you discover yourself, Miss Clarkson,” he continued in a gently hypnotic voice, “help you discover the real woman hidden within you. A true hedonist, a woman who revels in pleasure, in pleasures given to her, in pleasures she gives others.”

He felt you relax, relax from the edge of an orgasm, and then removed his finger from your lips to resume massaging your temples. A nod to the three naked men, and they returned to your body. A change, though: Joe took a position at the foot of the massage table while Johnny and Freddo stood on either side.

The two men started in again, now with a man on each breast, two hands kneading and rubbing each of your soft tits with warm stimulating oil, pinching, tugging, and twisting your nipples, now gently, now firmly. Joe pours the same oil of his hands and starts on your legs, one hand on each thigh. As he massages the sensitive flesh he slowly, almost imperceptibly, spreads your legs wider and wider apart. Higher up your thighs, then, with each stroke until his hands explore your vulva, one hand rubbing your labia while the other presses and grinds on your mound. Your labia spread open like a butterfly’s wings, and his strong fingers find your pleasure spots. One toys with your pearl while the other slips into your cavern, twisting, curling, trusting, and probing to find and pleasure the sensitive cluster of nerves in the roof of your sheath.

The old man has continued talking to you, mesmerizing you with his voice and his words, describing and emphasizing the pleasure he knows you’re feeling. He nods to the men, and they stop their ministrations, stepping back from the table. He feels the desperate quivering of your body as you find yourself at the edge of that cliff yet unable to leap free.

“Is there anything you want, Miss Clarkson,” he asks seductively. “Perhaps a hard hot cock for that hungry cunt of yours?”

He waits to hear if you’ll beg to be fucked. Have they brought you to that point yet?
 
Last edited:
Back
Top