Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Historical, Spanking, Light Bond, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Two young professors, a snowy long weekend, and an old journal from the 1920s. Two stories woven together. Paul and Judy spend a hot weekend together while discovering an incredibly hot period of his aunt and uncle's life in a truly exotic setting. Finalist for Golden Clitorides Award.



I closed my grade book and looked up and out of my office window. The wind had shifted around, now coming from the west-southwest. The radio had said earlier that it would bring slightly warmer temperatures - if two degrees above freezing is slightly warmer - but that it would also bring at least several inches of snow. I could just see the first few flakes, fat and soft, and knew that soon the roads would turn into a real mess as people headed home on Friday before the long weekend.

I was just thinking about reaching for the phone when there was a quick knock on my doorframe and I looked around to see Judy Montgomery leaning into my office. Although I teach Civil Engineering and Judy is an assistant professor in the history department, we see a lot of each other. In fact, we often see all of each other because we are lovers as well as colleagues.

I smiled at the welcome sight. Judy is twenty-eight, tall and slim, a condition her frequent athletic activities help her retain. She runs, swims, and she and I often spend lunch hours engaged in a strenuous fencing bout. We both learned epee as undergraduates and were happy to find someone with whom to continue our practice. Although she looks fabulous in the close fitting fencing jacket, the wire covered mask hides her really lovely face. She has shoulder length dark blonde hair, eyes of the deepest blue I have ever seen, and legs, as the expression says, which go all the way up. Now her bright smile answered mine and she said, "I decided to get out of here before the traffic gets bad. Interested in dinner?"

We had been dating for about four months now. We each retained our own residence, but generally spent most of each weekend together. We had talked about getting together on Saturday, but now Judy had anticipated my own idea to see her tonight. "I was just getting ready to call you and ask the same thing. In fact I was going to suggest I take you out for a nice dinner and then maybe drag you back to my place for the whole weekend. I have a surprise you might find interesting."

"All weekend, huh? I doubt I have enough clothes at your place to last until Tuesday."

"You have an outfit to wear for work Tuesday. That's all you'll need," I replied with a leer.

"Oh? Just what do you have in mind?"

"Actually. quite a few things," I replied. "But the surprise I was talking about is an old journal I think you'll find fascinating. It's right up your line - in more ways than one. What about it? Interested in a nice steak? And I have a bottle of Zin chilling at home."

She cocked her head for a second and then said, "How about this instead? Since they're saying maybe eight or ten inches of snow tonight and it's already starting, the roads will be a real mess in another half hour. So why don't you go on home and get a nice fire started and uncork that Zin while I stop and get us a large pizza. Then we can eat it in front of your fireplace."

"Dressed like last time?" I raised an eyebrow. A couple of weeks ago we had ordered pizza out and decided to eat it on the floor in front of the fireplace in my bedroom. We had just come from a school reception and were both dressed in fairly good clothes which we didn't want to get stained. Somehow we had ended up resolving this problem by having supper in the nude on a blanket spread in front of the fire. Dessert was even better.

Judy raised her own eyebrow. "If you'd like. Sounds like fun to me."

Twenty minutes later I was lighting the kindling and spreading a couple of thick comforters on the floor. I live in an older house on the edge of town. It's actually quite a bit larger than I need so I have converted one wing of the old Georgian into my living suite and mostly only use the kitchen in the rest of the house. Oh, occasionally I'll have a dinner party in the large dining room or something, but most of the time I just stay in my wing. Here I have an office and a bath, and a large - really large - bedroom, complete with a wood burning fireplace and a king sized four poster bed. There are also some more unusual items in my room, such as a leather covered vaulting horse, a large leather lounge, and screw eyes in a number of places. Shortly after we began dating, Judy and I were both delighted to discover that each of us loved erotic bondage. Oh, we're not into a real master-slave relationship or anything. Often there's nothing kinky about our love making at all, but both of us do enjoy bondage and a little discipline in the form of paddles, straps, clamps, and a cat of nine tails. While Judy is usually the 'victim' we each enjoy both roles and both of us find such play a tremendous tension reliever.

Even though it was only a little after four it was already getting dark and I saw Judy's headlights sweep across the windows before I heard her car pulling into the driveway. My house is at the end of a dead end road, separated from its closest neighbor by several hundred yards, so there's almost never a car unless it's coming here. I heard the garage door open and close as she pulled inside next to my car and I headed back downstairs to get the wine

She came into the kitchen carrying two large pizza boxes. I looked at them and asked, "Feeling really hungry tonight?"

She looked directly at me, ran her tongue across her lips, and answered, "Definitely! But if you're asking about food, I got the second one for tomorrow in case we get snowed in this weekend."

I took her coat and hung it up and then we put the second pizza in the refrigerator. We got the wine along with glasses, plates and so on, and then headed up to the bedroom. By the time we entered, the fire was coming along nicely, and I added a couple of logs while Judy set the food on the floor by the blanket. Then she came over to the side of the room where I had gone to get a couple of candles for the mantle. As I turned off the lights and turned to put the candles in place, she wrapped her arms around my neck and soon we were locked in a deep kiss. When we broke apart for air, she breathed in a husky voice, "Let's eat. I can hardly wait for dessert."

She began to unbutton my shirt and I set the candles on the dresser so I could reciprocate with her clothing. Soon we were both completely naked. We shared one more torrid kiss and reluctantly broke apart. I lit the candles and placed them on the mantle and then we settled on the blankets in front of the fire.

The act of sharing a meal with a lover can, in and of itself, be an extremely erotic experience even if both are fully dressed. Nude, the effect is enhanced a hundred fold. We ate, casually stroking each other, feeding each other bites of pizza and sips of wine. By the time we finished with the food we were both aroused to such a state that we merely pushed the remains aside and began to embrace. In only a few seconds, Judy pushed me down on my back, swung her long leg across my waist, and impaled herself on my rampant member. I think the intense feeling from our coupling surprised both of us and neither of us lasted more than half a minute before I was exploding and pumping my hot semen into her as she, her head thrown back, her legs squeezing me almost hard enough to bruise, convulsed into her own climax.

As we slowly came down from that high place, Judy stretched herself on top of me, leaving me inside as I slowly began to shrink. She kissed me and whispered, "That was good, Paul. I really needed that."

I kissed her back. "That makes two of us - which is exactly the right number. But don't think I'm completely sated yet."

She smiled down at me. "Me either, Lover. I expect a lot more this weekend."

"Don't worry. I still expect a lot more tonight."

She snuggled against me as I let my hand roam over her incredibly sexy bottom. Judy has a small, nicely rounded ass, the muscles as tight as any I've ever seen - and I'm constantly on the lookout for such things. I love the feel of the smooth skin and firm muscles and never miss a chance to caress her there.

We lay together in the warmth of both the fire and the afterglow of our love making and I think we both dozed off for a short time. Suddenly I opened my eyes to the feel of a small, pointed tongue exploring the inside of my right ear. As I sucked in my breath, Judy said, "All right now, Lover. Tell me what this surprise journal is all about."

She rolled off of me and propped herself up on an elbow. I leaned over and kissed her and then slowly pulled myself up. I glanced at the fire and decided to add another couple of logs before going over to my dresser. From a top drawer I pulled out a thick, heavily bound book, the type that could have been an old ledger. I held it up to show her and said, "It's about this. My great uncle's journal from the early nineteen twenties."

I started back towards the blankets, but stopped long enough to pull the curtain aside and glance outside. "Looks like we already have five or six inches out there," I commented. "Want to go out and play in the snow?"

Judy made a face at me. "We're not really dressed for it," she answered. "And besides," she added, "I already have a good seven inches in here." She punctuated this by staring intensely at my crotch.

Now it was my turn to stick out my tongue and I replied, "At least. And I guarantee you'll get at least that much again before too long."

I settled down beside her on the blankets. "As I was saying, this is my great uncle's journal. Let me give you a little history. My great uncle Alex was born in 1894 in Scotland. He had a younger brother, John, who was born in 1910 and later became my grandfather. Alex served in World War I in France and returned to Britain in 1919. I never knew exactly what he did then, but I did know he held several jobs until he moved to a plantation somewhere in the South Pacific in 1922 where he met his wife - my great aunt Susan - and worked there until just before World War II when the Japanese began their invasion of the islands in that part of the world. I know that after the war he moved to the states and eventually became a professor of business right here. In fact, this was his and Susan's house. Susan, by the way, was a medical doctor, and practiced here in town until sometime in the nineteen sixties when she retired..."

"I remember him from when I was a little boy, but I think he died when I as about eight. That would have been in nineteen eighty. Aunt Susan was about three years younger than Alex and she lived until four years ago. After I came back from the three years I spent really working as a civil engineer and took the position with the school, she insisted I move in here - she was still living here on her own and was alert and lively right up until she died in her sleep one night - at the young age of 103. In her will she left me the house. She was still a pretty woman, even in her nineties, and must have been a real looker when she was young. She also had a really lively and ribald sense of humor. She often alluded to some of the wild things she and Alex had done when they were younger. And then she'd kid about going out and looking for a man - not to marry - just to sleep with. I remember one time when she was doing that I suggested she go to one of the singles bars in town but she said there were only kids there. Then she said she preferred to hang around the senior rec center because she could usually find someone in his sixties who thought she still had it. At the time I thought it was just talk, but now I'm not so sure. She may still have been really picking up guys. I do know she and Alex were still having sex regularly when he died."

"Anyway, back to the journal. Last week I was looking through some of the stuff that's still up in the attic and I came across this." I held up the book again. "When I started reading it I found that it was a kind of journal that Alex had kept. It covers the time from just before he left Glasgow in 1922 and the next several months when he was manager of that plantation in the South Pacific. The reason I thought you might find it especially interesting is that I know about your interest in the 'private kingdoms' of that period."

Judy's head swung around and a sudden interest showed in her eyes. She had often told me stories about isolated areas of the world where individuals had set up there own private countries - well, not really countries, but at least private estates - where they ruled with absolute authority. Most people find it hard to believe, but such places were not all that unusual up until the middle of the twentieth century. They flourished in remote areas of the world: Africa, South America, Asia. Places where governments didn't have sufficient interest to interfere and thus let the men run their estates as they wished, administering their own laws and justice and in general having their way in any fashion they wanted. After all, Cecil Rhodes, with the blessing of the British government, ran an entire country that way. None of the others were on that scale, but often covered as much as several hundreds of square miles. When I had read my uncle's journal, I had found that the island plantation where he had worked was one of these places.

"That's right," I continued. "The plantation where my uncle became a general manager, was owned by an expat German who ran the entire island as though there was no higher authority. But to make it even more interesting, I think you'll find that von Holt's ideas were not the usual for such men. Much less draconian and a little more hedonistic. It was definitely an interesting place to work."

I now unequivocally had Judy's full attention. The subject of the private kingdoms was one of her special interests and she had done a great deal of research in the area. I smiled to myself as I watched her sleek, naked body and thought how much more I expected her to be interested in this particular 'kingdom' than in the others she had studied.

"Just where was this place?" she asked.

"That, I'm afraid, we'll never know for sure. My uncle only describes its location in a general way. I have the idea, from a few things I recall him or my aunt saying, that the enterprise ended with the Japanese expansion through the area and that it was never reestablished after the war. All I really know is that it was somewhere generally between Viet Nam and Australia."

"That's a lot of ocean."

"You can pick up a few clues from the journal, but I didn't see anything that would really pin point it."

"OK, OK. Can I see it?"

When Judy got interested in a subject, everything else was forgotten. Now she was ready to start pouring over the old journal, completely oblivious to the fact that she was stark naked. I was mostly kidding when I had said she wouldn't need any clothes for the weekend, but there had been a couple of times when we had stayed nude for over a full day. Judy didn't seen to mind and almost seemed to forget she wasn't wearing clothes. But, then with a body like hers I could see how displaying it might not bother her. The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea of keeping her naked until Tuesday morning. And I had just thought of something that might make that more likely.

"We've got all weekend. I don't think I'll let you have it just yet." Judy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything I added, "Instead I think I'll read it to you. It's really a very interesting story - and really quite racy in spots."

With this her mouth immediately closed. We sometimes read hot stories to each other, usually while the other is bound and being teased, and both of us find this a real turn-on. Looking at her face I could see the academic who wanted to examine the original article competing with the lusty woman who loved sex and sexy games. Judy is one of the hottest women I have ever known and enjoys sex in nearly every form. At least in any of the forms I've wanted to try with her. So the promise of my reading her a hot story which also happened to be a record of real history was certainly attractive. Finally this seemed to win out and she said, "All right, if I get to look at the real thing later on."

"Certainly. In fact, I'll probably lend it to you to study. That is, if you can keep your hands out of your pants while you read it." This pronouncement served to further peak her interest and I could see she was really beginning to wonder what was in this book."

"This is the real thing, right? Not just something you made up for one of our games?"

"No, it's just as I told you. It really is my uncle's journal, written as it happened, and I have no doubt that he recorded the actual events as they occurred." Then with a mischievous smile, I added, "Even if some of it is so hot I'm not sure how he recorded it without having his hand in his own pants."

I could see that Judy was now definitely hooked. But I decided to do something to string her along a little more. "I'll read it to you, but first I think we should do something to get you in the right frame of mind." Judy looked a question at me as I lay the book down and reached down for her hand. I pulled her to her feet and pulled her into a tight embrace and deep kiss. One of the things which really turn me on about Judy is that she becomes aroused nearly instantly. Before the kiss was three seconds old she was fitting her bare body against my own from shoulder to ankle, her tongue exploring my mouth, and her hands tightly grasping my ass.

We held the kiss for a full minute and then I pulled back and took her wrist to lead her a little ways across the room to where the leather vault stood. "I think I need to warm that tight bottom of yours to keep you thinking along the right lines," I said.

Judy's breath was already coming in rapid, shallow drafts. Now her eyes sparkled at the prospect of a little bondage and spanking and no matter how attractive the journal seemed to the professional historian, it was temporarily put on hold. Instead she said in a sort of pouting teenager's voice, "What's the matter? Have I been a bad girl."

"Not at all," I replied, smiling at her as I started to put on wrist and ankle cuffs of soft leather. I stood her at the side of the vault, facing it, and spread her legs, attaching the ankle cuffs to the legs of the vault. "You haven't really been bad yet at all, but I intend to change that." I bent her over the smooth leather and fastened her wrists to the vault legs on the other side, leaving her tight bottom uppermost and very inviting. "But I think you should be bad. You know I love that tight ass of yours. I love whipping it and I love fucking it. Now I plan on doing both and then I'm going to tie you to the lounge while I read you the journal. I may stop from time to time to tease you, or torment you, or ravish you. And I may keep it up a long time." Judy shivered in delighted anticipation.

I stood watching the perfection of Judy's lovely form lit only by the flickering candle flames and the firelight. The light and shadow played across her smooth skin and I could see her twisting slightly against her bonds as her body demanded stimulation and release. She was breathing quite fast and as I slid my hand between her legs I found she was already dripping. For several minutes I let my hands wander over her wonderful body, caressing her, lightly pinching her hard nipples, and teasing the entry of her wet tunnel and tight rear hole. Then I stepped back and picked up one of our cats. This one had nine soft leather tails, each a foot and a half long and about a half inch wide, atop a sixteen inch polished wood handle. It would sting, but wouldn't do any real damage. We never used a whip or strap hard enough to break the skin or really hurt more than the victim wanted and we always had a safe word, although neither of us had ever needed it.

I dragged the leather tails across her exposed bottom and I saw her shudder so much at the first touch I almost thought she had started to come. Then with no additional warning I brought the lashes down in a fast stroke, snapping the ends on her stretched rump. She gave a small cry, but quickly steadied her bottom for another blow. I began to whip her harder and harder, until each stroke was bringing a cry and leaving red lines across her perfect skin. It was obvious that the strokes were beginning to really hurt, but we had found we enjoyed the stimulation of such pain and both of us knew how to stop before it became too much to tolerate.

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.


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 if 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.

I asked about the other Westerners. The two mechanics were Bob and George - I didn't catch last names. Both were Americans. There were two nurses - Jenny and Deborah - and Dr. Hartley. The nurses were from England and Dr. Hartley was another American. There was also the school teacher, Joan, English by birth, but raised in India. Beyond that I could expect about two hundred fifty native workers, about evenly split between men and women. At least all of the staff spoke English and Nate informed me that English was the language Mr. von Holt had chosen for the school in which he educated the native workers. He did explain that beyond the staff and Mr. von Holt's rare visits. I probably wouldn't see any other Westerners at all.

The contract specified that I could have three weeks each year of holiday. If I wanted I could save them and use six weeks every other year and von Holt would provide a round trip ticket to anywhere in the world I wanted to go.

I asked Nate about what I would need to bring. Would there be any special work clothes or anything like that? He seemed to be holding back a laugh and then settled and began to explain. The climate was tropical. There was never a need for jackets and most of the western men wore only shorts - usually made from old American blue jeans - or the native sarongs to work. Then he said, "You balked a little when I mentioned the possibility of a uniform for work. Let me assure you your choice of clothing is in no way limited. But let me also explain about one of von Holt's rules. This applies to the native workers and is not enforced for the westerners. Mr. von Holt is a great believer in the natural theory of living. That's one of the reasons he settled in that part of the world. A number of years ago he happened on the island where our workers are from and has described it as an earthly Eden, a real paradise. He decided to model the plantation after it as much as possible. Somehow I suspect there may have been some additional reasons. But whatever the original cause, one of the conditions of employment which he has set forth is that whenever possible the workers must be nude."

I looked at him in astonishment. "Are you serious?" I asked.

"Very," he replied. "The men wear a breechclout for protection when doing rough field work, but the women, who mostly work in the preparation sheds and around the dwellings remain completely naked. Likewise when the men return from the fields they strip also."

I visualized dozens, even hundreds of naked men and women. Especially naked women. The pictures I had seen of the islanders from that part of the world had shown unusually attractive people. The women were small of stature but beautifully formed. At last I managed to ask, "The workers don't mind this?"

Nate smiled. "No, in fact they love it. You are probably not familiar with that part of the world, but the people grow up in a natural paradise. There is no nudity taboo and usually the most they would wear would be a kind of wrap around garment called a sarong. This is a lot like a kilt and might be worn by both men and women. Also the young people growing up have no real sexual taboo and sex between them is not looked down on at all. Once a year the workers are taken back to their own island for a two week holiday and von Holt allows each of them to choose a dress, or pants or something made with trade cloth. The women love the bright colors and the men usually pick blue jeans. They wear these to show off in their home villages, but when they come back to the plantation, they once again go nude." In a somewhat rare display of feeling Nate added, "I do love the view."

I let this information filter through my churning mind. "Well, I believe I can get used to that." Then I smiled and added, "Too bad the rule doesn't apply to the western women as well."

Nate laughed and then said, "It doesn't. However, remember I said there are no restrictions on how the staff dresses. Most of the staff has "gone native" to the extent that they often follow the dress code even without the rule."

This opened new possibilities. Two nurses and a school teacher. Oh, well. They would probably all be old and fat.

We discussed the duties and, despite the fact that I had no experience with processing spices, both Nate and I agreed I could learn the details easily and that there seemed to be nothing that should cause a problem. Finally, less than thirty-six hours since I first met Nate and heard of this position, I made a decision which will probably alter my life completely, and signed the contract.

January 25.

The last week has been more busy that I imagined. Although I have little family here and less worldly goods, I found that taking care of even this small amount in preparing for an extended absence could take a lot of time. I managed to get away up north for two days to see my parents and my brother, John. My parents were very supportive, I think because they understand what my mother calls my "free spirit" and my father refers to as stubbornness or more charitably, my non-conformity. John is only eleven and I don't think he has quite grasped how far away I'm going.

I had to close my bank account, settle with my landlord, pack a few belongings and either give away or take to my parents' home the rest of them. There was no particular girl I was leaving and I didn't really have any close friends here in the city. And, as the situation stands, I had no problems to resolve with my employment. Tonight I'll take the train to London where tomorrow I'll board a ship for a new life.


I closed the book, but continued to let my open hand stroke Judy's bare pubes. She once told me she first shaved her mound when she got a small bathing suit and saw how little would be left after she trimmed it. Then she found she liked the feeling and has kept it bare ever since. Whatever the reason, I love it this way. The feel of the smooth skin under my sliding fingers is always exciting, not to mention the sensation when I run my tongue across it.

Judy had been listening with rapt attention. "You're not making this up, are you? The journal really says the workers had to be naked?"

I stroked a little more. "No, that's exactly what it says. The men could wear the breechclouts when working in the fields, but other times - and for the women, almost all the time - skin was the order of the day." I could see the signs of excitement on Judy's face and body as she imagined hundreds of naked islanders. Unlike my uncle at that time, we had seen a lot of pictures of the natives of that part of the world as well as full color movies and tapes. They were some of the most well formed and attractive people on earth.

I decided to take advantage of Judy's thoughts. "Just imagine," I began, "hot, tropical sun, clear seas, white sand beaches, and everywhere you look, beautiful, naked people. Lovely girls with swaying hips and pouting breasts. Handsome men, muscles rippling down their backs, tall with strong arms, and everything they have clearly visible. And no inhibitions." Judy was starting to breathe rapidly again and I lowered my head to suck at first her left and then her right nipple. I let my tongue begin to trace patterns across her smooth front, slowly working my way south, until it began to slide over her smooth mound. I settled between her legs and applied my tongue to her dripping pussy, licking with broad, slow strokes and then flicking the tip of my tongue back and forth across her protruding clit.

Judy was starting to go mad, straining against her bonds and squirming against my mouth. I continued to tease and suddenly she could take it no more and cried, "Oh, Paul, I need you. Now! Fuck me, Paul. Oh, God, fuck me!"

Judy wasn't the only one having a hard time waiting. At her command, I moved up her body and held myself with just the tip of my cock pushing against her dripping pussy lips. "Now, Paul. Please. I need you inside me. Oh, please fuck me!"

How could I resist such a plea? I didn't. I pushed myself all the way inside as deeply as I could go and Judy strained against me as much as her bonds allowed. Then I began to move in and out. This wasn't one of our slow, passionate sessions. No, now I rammed myself in as hard and fast as I could, withdrawing nearly all the way and slamming back inside with a vengeance. Needless to say we didn't last a long time. In not very long we both were trembling in orgasm. As I came I grabbed her ass cheeks and dug my fingers in hard, pulling us together as closely as possible.

As we caught our breath, I let my grip on her ass relax a little. I lay on top of her for a few more seconds and then began to release her from the lounge.

"Paul, that journal really turned me on. Does the rest of it live up?"

"There really hasn't been anything in there yet except that Nate told him the workers are always naked. This is nothing, just wait. What's turned you on is that incredibly hot imagination of yours. You are just a really hot piece, Woman."

Judy gave me a mock slap on the ass. "You shouldn't really talk to me that way, Sir," she said.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. It was rather chauvinistic. I should have said you are a really hot piece, Professor Woman."

This was too much and Judy and I both broke down laughing. "Come on," I said. Let's take a quick trip to the bathroom, put another couple of logs on the fire, and then if you're not too tired I can read you some more of the journal.

Before we settled in again I looked out of the window. There was now at least a foot of snow and the wind was blowing hard. Well, I didn't plan on going anywhere else this weekend. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

I added the logs and then turned to Judy. "Maybe we should do something else to keep you from getting bored this time."

"I'm not likely to be bored."

"Never the less, I think maybe I should add this." I held up a butt plug. "Come on, Lover, bend over." Judy loved the feel of the plug - as I did myself - and didn't hesitate to bend forward and grab her ankles, spreading her legs apart. I teased her body for a couple of minutes and then began to rub lube around and into her puckered rear hole. As my finger penetrated she sucked in her breath, but also wiggled her bottom back against my hand to get me in deeper. I rubbed the slick substance around and round and finally pulled my finger reluctantly out, but replaced it with the plastic plug. I began to work the smooth intruder in and out, each time going deeper and deeper, until finally I gave a hard push, popping the large rounded bump inside her ring of muscle and bringing a small cry. Judy shivered as her anus closed around the narrow part of the shaft and the larger part gave her that really full filling she loved.

I gave her a long hard kiss and then led her back to the lounge and soon had her arranged on her back once again, her wrists and ankles spread and bound to the top and bottom of the frame. I lowered myself beside her and once again began to read the old journal.

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