Vacation In Terror
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Rape, BDSM, DomSub, Light Bond, Oral Sex,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A woman goes to a tropical island to relax after a bad divorce and finds herself kidnapped and taken into a lifestyle unlike anything she'd ever been involved in before. Will she find love or will she be kept from her family forever?
I deserved this, I told myself as I climbed down the steps of the small plane that was the only way on or off the island. I deserved this vacation for all the years I had remained faithful and devoted to a man who played around on me more than Tiger Woods played Golf. And now that I was out of that relationship, the ink barely dry on my wonderful new divorce papers, I was going to enjoy my life a little more. Okay, a lot more.
The sun settled hotly on my bare shoulders, sinking into my skin in a way that reminded me of all the cold lonely days, the eight years of lonely days that were now gone and over. Freedom, the word rang through my head. I stretched into that thought, excited and anxious to get into a bikini and soak those lovely sunrays into my body and revel in all the word entailed. The wind picked up a little, ruffling my long hair that I left down today for the trip and bringing the wonderful scents of the island to my senses.
Flowers, hundred of flowers could be seen everywhere, even bordering the small runway in vibrant colors and spectacular blooms. Their smell seemed almost overwhelming at first, combined with the scent of salty air from the ocean. It was exotic and exciting, intriguing and made me itch also to get my fingers on my new laptop that I had brought with me in case the mood struck to write.
I shook off that thought. Nope, first things first. My room, my bikini, a towel by the pool and a gorgeous cabana boy to bring me funny looking drinks with little colorful umbrellas in them. I was going to work on the tan that I had already started, relax and release the stress from the divorce which had turned very nasty at the very end. I had a week, and in that time here, on this slice of paradise, I was going to revive my batteries and work on the new beginnings of my life. And who knows, maybe indulge in a little vacation fling and get that battery revved while I was at it too.
I didn't see the other passenger watching me, noting the smile on my face, the glow to my skin or the way my steps turned jaunty and I almost skipped towards the terminal and my rental vehicle. If I had I might have noticed the speculative look and then sudden gleam in the eyes that caressed my body as if it belonged to him. And I might have seen him pick up a phone and make a call, his gaze never leaving me as I walked away.
I hurried into the terminal and up to the car rental desk. The car I chose from them, a late model Mustang convertible in bright cheery red, suited my mood. I followed a clerk out to the car, at his insistence he carried my luggage and stashed it for me in the trunk. He helped me into the car and handed me the key. The he watched as I turned it in the ignition, almost laughing in pleasure at it's untamed purr.
Being from Michigan, nothing, absolutely nothing, could evoke that kind of bliss as the sound of a well tuned engine or the rumble of one of the Detroit muscle machines. This didn't grumble, but the purr and the slight squeal of the tires as I laid my foot on the accelerator did have me grinning happily. My only regret, the island wasn't big enough to have a highway system where I could really open her up and spread my wings. But the short hop to the motel still was enjoyable, especially the curves.
I checked in, grinning happily at the plastic card key in my hand. Room 15. Fifteen was my lucky number. And the room showed that luck, bright and airy, wide French doors opening right onto a veranda that overlooked the ocean. I could leave them open at night and be lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves caressing the shoreline.
The furniture was wicker and painted white, the spread happy colors of green and yellow and fuchsia swirled into a bright floral pattern. There was a television, but I didn't give that much of a glance, planning to spend no time watching it. A huge basket of fresh fruit had been left along with a very nice bottle of white wine. The note made me smile. "Enjoy your vacation, sis. You deserve it."
I did a quick twirl, the skirt of my sundress happily spinning out and around the long length of tanned thigh before settling once more against them. I handed the bellboy some money, not noticing his eyes and the way they wouldn't really look at me. I was too ecstatic about this whole trip. Maybe if I had noted some of the weird looks I was getting, things might not have gone the way they did.
Instead I looked around the suite and then made the bathroom my next stop, after unzipping my suitcase and pulling out two pieces of material that laughingly was called a swim suit. There was enough fabric covering to make it legal, but barely. Another little jab at the eternity of marital unbliss that I had endured, my ex would have cringed and covered me with a bedspread if he had ever saw me in this.
I almost dropped the suit when I walked into the bathroom. Almost the same size as the main room, there was a huge, free standing Jacuzzi, complimentary bubble bath neatly placed in the corner, jets gleaming in the way only chrome can. A shower stall stood by one wall, a small alcove closed off with a half door for the toilet. A long counter ran across the other wall, inset with two sinks that were shaped like oyster shells. All this was done in pinks and greens and made me squeal and hug myself in joy. This was all mine for one full week.
It was hard to leave that bathroom and go out to the pool. But I was determined to enjoy my time spent in paradise. And to come home to Michigan with a tan that would have all the winter white people there green with envy. I grabbed a towel, a small beach tote which was filled with tanning oil in my favorite cocoa butter scent, sunglasses, some money, and the book that I had forced myself to wait to read until I got here. I left the room, slipping the key in my tote and wrapping the towel sarong style around my waist.
Too content in myself at the moment, I failed to notice the stares following me, the speculative glances of the men that I passed, the small boy that seemed to follow my every move. Instead, I stopped quickly at the small bar by the pool, ordered a fruity rum drink and chose my chaise lounge with an eye to the sun. Then I dropped the towel, laid back and slicked on tanning oil.
I loved the way my hands felt against my body, slicked with the oil and took my time rubbing it in, making sure every inch of exposed skin was covered. Maybe I was wrong to enjoy touching myself but I hadn't had sex in years, staying faithful to a man who hated me and whom I hated. After the split up, when I was going through the divorce, it just hadn't seemed like the time to get involved with someone.
So now, even the smooth caress of my own hands, covered in coconut smelling oil, made me squirm just a little. And combined with the touch of the sun's rays, heating the oil and my skin, I could feel myself becoming very aroused. I could feel my nipples tightening under the tiny wisps of fabric covering them and knew they could be seen to anyone who looked.
That thought, called to the exhibitionist in me and made me long to strip the top from my body and let any who wanted to look. I glanced around at the others already at the pool, noting a family, the mother a large woman, the father scrawny with white cover up on his nose, both staring at me. I smiled slightly and nodded, amazed when she gave me a dirty look and he kept his eyes about a foot down from mine, right on my breasts. Their kids were in the pool, screaming and splashing on the other side from where I was and I took a moment to enjoy their antics.
My drink was sat on the stand next to me by a very good looking young man who couldn't have been more than twenty. He too, couldn't seem to stop staring at my body, even as I thanked him and picked up the drink. When I looked up at him to smile, his eyes slid to the side and he looked away quickly as if ashamed. What was wrong with these guys? Hadn't they seen a woman in a bikini before?
I decided to ignore them, and picked up my book to turn to the first page. By the second I was yawning, feeling the effects of the early flight and the long days past. I sat the book down, took another long sip of my drink and closed my eyes behind my dark glasses.
Sleep took me quickly and seamlessly.
When I woke, my body was hot from the sun. I tried to open my eyes so that I could get up and go inside and couldn't. Something was covering them. I went to move it with my hand and then squirmed as I realized my hands were being restrained above my head. Panic started trickling through me in chilling little waves.
I squirmed against the restraints, feeling my oily skin moving against whatever I had been tied to. I gasped as I realized that what little covering my bikini had afforded me had been removed. I was naked. Blindfolded, naked and tied to a hard surface, a table maybe?
My legs were spread and as I tried to move them, I realized my ankles were tied down also. I felt shame rise in me at the thought that anyone coming in could see me. Shame and a little dribble of excitement that even my current situation couldn't drown. This was right out of one of my fantasies, restrained, naked, held against my will, exposed for any and all to enjoy.
But this wasn't a fantasy, this was real and real could be dangerous. I shivered in the coolness of the room, feeling my nipples harden into tight berry sized kernels standing high on my firm breasts. I could feel the cool air swirling around the exposed flesh of my pussy. Even as I tried to deny the feeling, I knew I was becoming wet at the thought of what I would look like to anyone that was looking at me.
Was there someone there? I tried to listen, to find out if I could hear anyone else in here with me, but my terrified breathing was too loud, my heart beating too hard. I could hear dripping noises somewhere behind me. But that was it.
I wasn't left alone long. I heard a door creak open behind me then a tittering giggle that was quickly shushed. My head turned on the table, trying to track whatever movement I could. I hated the thought that I couldn't move, couldn't defend myself. But my body loved it, I could feel myself becoming wetter and it shamed me even as it excited me more.
When the first hand touched my body I screamed, not knowing if I startled myself more or the other person.
"Hush, please, you must be quiet."
The voice was soft, hesitant, with a slight accent that rounded out the vowels and made it sound exotic. It was also very young sounding. My face turned instantly to that voice and I strained through the blindfold to see her.
"Who are you? What are they doing? Why am I here?"
My panicked questions brings another quick shush from the girl and then I feel her hand against my skin. She started on my shoulder then moved around me, touching me, stroking my skin. Her soft hand caressed my shoulders, my arm, over my breast, stopping for an instant against my nipple. She pulled on it softly between two fingers and I felt that tug and moisture beginning to drip down between my thighs. I try to cringe away from her, but she laughed softly and continued her exploration enjoying the way I squirmed on the table.
Her hand laid on my smooth stomach, rubbing light circles on the hot flesh. I try to ignore what she was doing, afraid and confused, even as my body enjoyed her ministrations. I could feel an ache grow between my thighs as her fingers cleverly rubbed in long slow circles, coming closer and closer to my mound with every rotation.
"She is beautiful."
My head swiveled at the sound of her voice, waiting to at least hear the other person who was in the room with me. But there was no sound, not even the slight sigh of breathing.
I felt her hand move down to my mound covered with only a tiny thin stripe of hair. She played with the little bit of curl I left there, making me moan in need, my hips arching toward her hand before I could control it. I hated to admit it, even to myself, as pleasure from her touch screamed through me, I wanted her to touch me, to make me cum. A sob came from between my lips as the shame was overwhelmed by the demand of my body.
Her fingers on the swollen lips of my pussy startled me even more. She gently rubbed close to the inside of my thighs, refusing to touch the wet flesh that begged for her attention. I knew my clit was exposed, knew from experience how hard it would be and how it would feel when she touched it. And I wanted her to, the thought brought me shame. How could I derive pleasure from this?
The blindfold didn't help, making me concentrate on her hands, on my own body. I could smell the tanning oil in every gasping breath. I could feel her, hear her as she moved around me. But I couldn't see anything. My head whipped around on the table, as I tried to deny what she was doing to me.
There is a rustle of clothing and then soft skin against my legs, between my thighs. Her fingers slowly pushed apart my nether lips and I felt the heat of her breath against the inner folds of my pussy. Without conscious thought, my hips arched as I beg soundlessly for her to continue, to touch me, to taste me with her tongue.
I heard more rustling sounds, and suddenly, new hands were on me. These were just as small, just as soft as the girl's hands. Another girl? The question quickly was lost as I felt the tip of the girls tongue touch the top of my pussy slit. I groaned out loud and tried to thrust my hips up burying that raw hot flesh against her face. It had been so long since anyone other than myself had touched me. I was losing control.
The other girl came and stood above my head, her hands suddenly on my waist. She had to lean across me, and her naked breasts pressed on my face. I could feel her hard nipples stroking my cheek as she moved, dragging her hands up from my waist, over my breasts and up my arms in one long move. The next stroke and her nipple was against my mouth. She held it there, as if expecting me to do something then reached up and squeezed my own nipple harshly when I didn't. My mouth opened obediently, and she fed me her breast. I suckled on it, nursed upon her and played with it with my tongue.
I heard the girl above me moan as I bit down gently on her nipple all the while desperately pushing my pussy up to the girl who barely touched my slit with her tongue.
"Please," I moaned around the nipple in my mouth. I was getting desperate. I could feel the moisture welling up inside of me and dripping between my legs. Pleasure was curling inside of me, just out of my reach and as frustrating as the situation I was in.
The girl above me pulled her nipple from my mouth and lightly slapped my face. "No noise," she said, her accent more pronounced than the other girls. I felt her move but didn't pay much attention. I was focused on the tongue that was slipping over the folds of my pussy, licking now at the wetness, every few laps and she would tickle my clit once with just the tip of her tongue before returning to the deep folds.
My hips moved helplessly under her mouth, I couldn't have stopped myself if my life depended on it. Little gasps came from my mouth and I was tapped on the cheek every time I became even a little vocal.
I felt her tongue thrust into me, hard, rapidly, fucking me. Her friend, partner, whatever, was cuddling with my breasts, using her entire face to tease my nipples, suckling them only to rub her cheeks over them, use her eyelashes to give me tickling little caresses.
"Oh God," I groaned as I felt ecstasy just within my grasp. I thrust upward and the girl pushed her finger between my lips, finding my clit and massaging it with just enough force to send me over, hard. I cried out and had a hand slapped over my mouth even as I groaned and whimpered beneath it in the grip of one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever felt.
When the girl took her mouth from me, I felt bereft, lost. When the other let go of my nipple and stepped back, I cried out at the lost. And then, as the drumming noise of pleasure left my head I heard a noise. Clapping.
"Very good girls. Very, very nicely done."
A man's voice, deep with just a hint of twang that told me south United States. I turned my head toward the sound of his voice, squirming even more at the thought of what had been done to me in his presence.
"Now, get her ready. I want all the hair removed this time, girls. From the neck down. Cleaned and oiled. She'll make a great party favor for my guests tonight."
Horror made my brain fuzzy and I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. All I knew is that I was in trouble, and it hadn't even started to get bad yet. I had to escape, but how?