Chapter 6

Judy and I ate lunch reclining on the rug in front of the fire. About one thirty, as we were finishing the food, I heard the sound of a large truck or other vehicle outside and we both made our way over to the window. I pulled back the curtain part way so we could see what was happening. We had stopped slightly back from the window since we were both completely naked and we couldn't tell from the sound exactly where the truck was. However, a quick glance showed that it was a snow plow just starting on the far end of my road. The wind was completely still and the sky was a pure, cloudless blue with the sun reflecting blindingly from the white surface which seemed to cover the entire world.

After a few seconds I dropped the curtain. "Looks like they'll have the road cleared in an hour or so," I commented.

Judy moved beside me and pressed her bare breast against my side. "Planning on going somewhere?" she asked.

"Not really. Are you?" I asked.

"Well, like you said the other day, I have been thinking about coming a lot, but the only place I'm interested in going is back to the South Pacific to hear more about your aunt and uncle," Judy said, as she pressed herself against me and let her fingers trail down my chest and across my cock.

I shivered and began to harden in response. "I'll read some more to you," I answered, "but I won't be able to concentrate if you keep that up."

"You're the one who needs to keep it up," she shot back. "OK. Why don't you keep me out of trouble and tie me to the longue again?"

I smiled and kissed her. "Like that, don't you?" I murmured. "Well, I do, too. Come on, Wench. Onto the longue."

With our arms around each other we moved back over near the fireplace. I pulled the double wide longue in front of the flames and picked up Judy's wrist and ankle cuffs which were lying on the floor. Soon I had them fastened snugly around her and was loosely fastening her, partly reclining, on her back. When she was comfortable I spent a couple of minutes teasing her body and then I picked up the old journal and began reading where we had left off.

March 9 (Seven Day)

Today was the second Seven Day I have been here and, as such, was also the second punishment session. This time I was not nearly so apprehensive as the first time since I realized the punishments were a kind of game and did no real harm to the victims or to anyone else.

After the work day ended, I walked with Susan to the punishment hut off the trail to the native living area. Today there were two men and two women, none of whom I knew by name. The workers were already assembled, acting like a festival was starting, and the two mechanics, Bob and George, were already standing near the two bound women, ready to watch. Susan and I went over to them and exchanged greetings.

I looked around and asked, "Where are Nate and Joan and our two nurses?"

Bob answered, "I'm not sure about Nate and Joan, but I think the two girls are inside getting ready. They're dishing it out today."

I hadn't really thought about who would be doing the punishing. I suppose I just assumed Nate and Joan would again, but I had been told that staff switched off. Suddenly the idea that I might sometime be the one swinging the whip made its way into my head and I felt a surprising wave of arousal at the concept. I have definitely changed in the last ten days! Of course, last time I didn't really grasp the idea that this was all a sexy game, but now I truly believed the four "victims" were here by choice.

Just then I saw the missing couple start towards us. Like last time, the staff were all dressed in sarongs and the workers were, of course, completely naked. As we were saying hello to Nate and Joan, the two nurses emerged from the hut. Each wore a very short sarong which came only down to the middle of their thighs and each was holding several different whips. They moved over to where the four bound victims were being watched by two strong native men and exchanged comments with everyone. There were some laughs, even if a couple of them from the bound quartet seemed a little nervous. Jenny said something to the two helpers and they began to move the four over to some horizontal bars. These bars were a good eight or nine feet off the ground, but there were four small step ladders below them. The victims had their hands unbound, but large leather cuffs were soon around their wrists instead.

One of the helpers pointed and the two men climbed the two steps of the ladders. The helpers used other ladders and soon had each man bound with his wrist cuffs attached to short chains on the overhead bar, He was left standing on his ladder, hands pulled above his head and spread about a foot and a half apart. The helpers then moved over and soon the two girls were in a similar position, standing on their own ladders below the second bar.

The two male helpers nodded and Jenny and Deborah moved forward to stand by the men. Each had a cat with two foot lashes. Jenny turned to the watching throng and repeated their offenses. Then she said, "Each will be warmed by the cat and will then receive eighteen strokes."

I leaned over to Susan and whispered, "Are they going to be punished differently than last time?"

Susan leaned back and replied, "Probably. Part of the game is that the victims never know exactly what the punishment will be or exactly how it will be administered. The persons administering the punishments decide, usually right before. It looks like this time they will be hung for a whipping."

I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, but before I could ask, Deborah and Jenny each moved up and pulled the short step ladders out from under the men. This left them each hanging by his wrists, his feet dangling a foot above the ground. The two helpers immediately moved forward and quickly fastened cuffs around the victims' ankles and attached a short rod, spreading their feet about two feet apart.

Both victims were fairly husky and muscled young men and I could see that their weight must place quite a strain on their arms. "Isn't that a little rough, making them hang by their arms? How long will they have to hang there, anyway?"

Susan answered, "Actually the cuffs spread the strain quite a bit. They're made so the blood isn't cut off and to be sure, Jen and Deb will keep a close eye out for that. They are nurses, after all. As for how long. Usually they're left for about a half hour while being punished and then later bound on display."

A half hour! That sounded like a lot, but I had to assume everyone knew what they were doing. Jenny and Deborah began to lash the two hanging men. Like the last time, most of the blows were on their buttocks, which could soon be seen turning a shade of red. Their arousal could also be seen as their members began to stand half erect. Occasionally, an especially sharp blow would cause the man to jerk, but, hanging as he was, the only result was the sudden contraction of muscles and a little swinging motion.

They spread the blows around a little, lashing thighs, backs and chests. After a couple of dozen lashes, the girls stopped. They put down the cats and picked up single tailed whips, ones with handles a little over a foot long and a tail of nearly a yard and a half.

The first two strokes landed nearly together as both of the girls struck at the open and exposed buttocks. The men both cried out and seemed to go through a series of contortions causing them to swing in small, uneven circles.

After thirty seconds or so, the blows were repeated with similar results. The two nurses continued to wait between a half minute and a minute and a half between lashes. The interval must have allowed the initial pain to subside and at the same time made the flesh more sensitive to subsequent lashes.

Eight lashes to each man and the whipping stopped for two minutes or so while the victims dangled and turned slightly in the air. Both had their tools rigid by now and both were the object of many comments from the crowd of naked onlookers, especially the female ones. Then the two girls approached again, this time each bearing a long riding crop. They swished these back and forth several times, bringing cringes from the men and laughs from the admiring female audience. Then the first stripe landed across the lower part of a pair of bare buttocks. The man could not contain himself and let loose a yowl as a bright line appeared across his already darkened flesh.

Each girl delivered six strokes: one to the front of the thighs, one to the chest, the leather loop snapping against a nipple, and four across the buttocks. And each left its fine line and also left a sharp cry hanging in the air. At last the two women laid down the crops and once more picked up the two single tailed whips. They waited several minutes for the men to calm. Both of the hanging men were covered with a slight sheen of sweat and both looked strained from hanging by their wrists.

Finally Jen and Deborah began to deliver the last four strokes to each victim. Once, probably by design rather than accident, each managed to make a stroke land in the crack between the buttocks and the small end of the whip curl up between the cheeks, ending its painful journey on the strip of sensitive flesh between each man's testicles and his anus. These strokes obviously hurt more than the others and each resulted in a scream from the recipient.

When the last lash had landed the men were left hanging and Jen and Deb moved over to the two women and removed the ladders supporting them. The helpers quickly spread and anchored their legs as had been done to the men and the two women were left dangling above the ground. Deborah announced that they would be warmed and left hanging for their punishment and that each had chosen to receive twelve strokes and then be quay-ri. The strokes of the cat began and soon both pairs of firm cheeks were turning red along with some other areas, such as stomach and even breasts.

After several minutes the girls switched to the riding crops and delivered six blows, generally to the buttocks, but including one directly across the tops of the victims' breasts. Each stroke produced a sharp cry or scream and left a clear line. Like with the men, these blows were spaced out with a minute or more between each. After the six, the nurses once more picked up the single tailed whips. Both of the hanging women stared at the whips with both anticipation and apprehension showing on their faces. The first strokes clearly defined what was to come as they left sharp lines across each set of firms cheeks and elicited screams from the two bound women. As with the men, each girl received one stroke to a particularly sensitive area, although one was to a breast and nipple and the other had the tail snap between her legs on the same sensitive area as the men had had abused.

At last the whippings were over. The four victims looked like they were more than a little aroused from the ordeal and the audience also seemed aroused to a high state. Jenny announced that the four would remain hanging for another fifteen minutes while everyone was free to feel them up and then the men would be placed on display and the women made quay-ri. But instead of just letting the victims hang, the two girls moved around and attached - I had to look twice to be sure - attached a clothes pin to each nipple of both the men and women. These were the newer spring loaded pins, not the older single piece split wooden ones. From their faces it appeared that this treatment of sensitive flesh must have hurt a fair amount.

At the end of the time, the helpers and the two nurses replaced the step ladders and soon had the four released from the bars.

However, the punishment session was not yet over. Each of the four was led over to a padded bench arrangement. These were narrow benches, about eight inches wide, and set two feet off the ground. The surface was curved along the entire six foot length of each, and rounded on the sides to give the appearance of a padded log or pole rather than a flat bench. Each "victim" was placed on a bench on his or her back, face up. Legs were bent at the knee and bound under the benches. Arms were also stretched beneath and bound. This left the four face up with almost no freedom of movement, their genitals fully exposed and available.

I should comment about what seemed to be allowed the audience. It seems that during punishment sessions the men are always "on display" and the women are given a choice between being on display or quay-ri with a lessening of the punishment. I have been told that the women almost always choose quay-ri: sex is what they want and often, I have been informed, they may later be overheard boasting of how many men had them. Men, however, are not given that option, but being "on display" means they may be touched and teased, but are not allowed to climax. I can imagine this is both a wonderful and awful form of torture.

When the four were securely bound, the nurses announced that quay-ri could begin and soon all four were fully occupied. I could see a number of the native women teasing the two men, touching them with fingers, tongues, and sometimes rubbing a breast or bare leg against them. The two women were indeed being taken by two men and two others stood by each girl's head, holding their stiff rods for the attention of the two feminine tongues.

Susan pressed herself against my side and I could feel her hard nipple almost burning into my skin as it slid across the side of my chest. "I see you find this interesting," she said as she let her hand grasp my stiff member through the thin material of my sarong. "Why don't you go up and sample one of those sweet morsels."

I placed my right arm around her and let my fingers caress her right nipple. "If you don't object, I'd rather sample a different pleasure." I fanned my fingers across her hard nub and moved my left hand to cup her left breast.

She sucked in her breath. "I don't object at all, Alex. Let's go somewhere else."

We decided to go up the trail we had taken that first time to where we could overlook the beach from high above. We picked up some sandwiches for supper and a blanket and put on our shoes and soon were climbing the trail. The sun was still well up when we arrived at the flat space overlooking the shore. If we listened carefully we could hear the party-like sounds from the workers as the punishment session ended and turned into a general festival. But for the most part we were alone with the sea breeze and insect sounds and the crash of the surf far below.

Susan and I spent a long hour in slow, but enthusiastic love making. Afterwards, we lay together, not bothering to put on any clothing, and let the breeze cool our hot skin. We talked a lot and I started to realize I was becoming very fond of Susan in more ways than just as a wonderful sexual partner. I'm still a little mixed up on this, but I think I'm really beginning to fall in love with her. I didn't say anything to her then, and I probably won't for some time until I'm sure of my own feelings and that she feels something similar, but I am now keenly aware that I'm looking at her a lot more seriously.

Eventually we ate our supper and then once again made love. But this time as we started, Susan stretched her hands above her head and said, "Tie me, Alex."

I froze above her and looked down at her lovely body. She again said, "Tie me up, Alex. At least tie my hands."

Slowly I asked, "You really want that?"

"Don't let it shock you so, Alex," she relied. "Of course I want it. I like these games, too. I trust you and being helpless can really excite. You can even spank my bottom if you like."

My breath caught in my throat. The picture presented by Susan's words immediately turned my tool more rigid than I thought possible and the idea of her stretched, naked and helpless, and wanting me to spank and then make love to her brought a swirling vision that nearly blocked the real world for several seconds. At last I tried to speak, but only a dry squeak emerged. I swallowed and cleared my throat and cleverly managed to respond with, "With what?"

Susan laughed, the sound of it like sparkling water in a clear brook. "Look in the knapsack. I put some rope in there."

Sure enough there were several lengths of soft cotton rope and in almost a daze I bound her hands together and pulled them above her head where I tied them to a small sapling. Then I straddled her hips and began to lightly tease her bound body paying particular attention to her breasts with their rock hard nipples. Susan's reactions showed she was loving it. I added my tongue to the action and soon she was moaning and straining against the ropes in unbridled arousal.

I suddenly stopped and she gave out an anguished groan of frustration. I rolled her over onto her stomach and began to let my hand slide gently up and down the inside of her legs and around her taut buttocks, my fingers moving inside her crack and touching her most intimate openings. Her arousal once again asserted itself and she began to twist and try to arch her delectable bottom higher with each touch. Suddenly I accepted her offer and brought my open palm down hard against her bare cheeks. Susan cried out at the blow but made no attempt to dissuade me. Far from it. Instead the cry was followed by a moan of pleasure and arousal and she arched her bottom higher for another stroke. I began to give her what she so apparently wanted, landing repeated slaps across her bare flesh, turning it a bright pink.

As I spanked this lovely woman I was astounded by my own feelings. I had already come to grips with the fact that the idea of a helpless and bound woman, receiving punishment - not severe punishment, of course - but being punished in a way she enjoyed - I had accepted that this did, indeed, excite me and Susan herself had convinced me that this was quite a normal reaction. However, the actuality of delivering that self same punishment to an aroused and willing victim was having an effect beyond anything I had ever imagined. As I heard and felt the slap of my hand against the firm bare flesh, watched the once lightly tanned area turn a bright pink and slowly become even more red, and felt the struggles of the beautiful bound and helpless creature as she twisted and squirmed beneath my hand, I felt myself became more aroused than I would have imagined possible.

Finally I could take it no longer. I ceased the spanking and knelt with my knees between her spread legs. I leaned forward and let the head of my member touch her opening, finding it soaked and dripping. Then I lost any form of control and plunged full length inside this wonderful woman. Susan cried out as I slid into her and I felt her internal muscles begin to clamp hard around my shaft, trying to hold me inside as I began to move out and back in. I drove hard into her, letting my weight crush her bound body against the blanket, holding myself as deeply as possible inside, and then slowly pulling out to repeat the entire sequence.

I'll admit my mind was a blur and I was lost to the outside world, but once, when I pulled back a little too far and my tool came all the way out, my mind did register Susan saying, "In my other hole, Alex. Take me there."

Now I have heard of men using women as some men use other men, but I had never done such a thing myself with either gender. In fact I had never seriously even considered the practice. However, I guess neither had I really been repulsed by the idea. Probably I had never given it enough thought to really have a feeling about it. And right then I was not in shape to give anything a longer, considered examination. Instead I responded almost without thinking and let the head of my shaft touch Susan's nether opening. The touch was electric! I began to press forwards and the head of my tool, slick with Susan's juices, began to force her opening wider and wider. Susan moaned and managed to say, "Go slowly, Alex. Go slowly, but don't stop. Please don't stop."

My mind was in a kind of haze but her words somehow penetrated and I restrained myself from driving forwards as hard as I could. I'm sure it was all for the better that way - for me as well as for Susan. As my instrument slid slowly into her rear tunnel, I felt her warmth engulf me, her muscles gripping me more tightly than I would have dreamed possible and with a corresponding feeling of pleasure I could never have imagined. I pressed slowly forwards as my length began to disappear inch by inch into her wonderful bottom. Susan writhed and twisted, arching against me, pressing herself backwards in an effort to aid her impalement. Neither of us was silent, our moans and gasps filling the air.

At last I was embedded as deeply as my shaft would allow and I held myself there, pressing against her firm flesh, still hot from the spanking. Then I slowly began to withdraw. The slide out was as wonderful as the reverse had been and when I neared the limit I again changed and began to press inwards once more, encouraged by explicit demands from Susan that I do exactly that. Before too long We were driving back and forth against each other, her strong muscles producing a feeling of pleasure unlike anything I had ever experienced. After a few minutes - or a few hours? - of this I could wait no longer and fortunately neither could Susan. I shoved myself in to the hilt and grabbed her hips, pulling her back tightly against my groin. Even as I began to spurt my juices into her bowels, Susan cried out and began to wildly convulse in climax. I held tightly to her, keeping myself embedded as deeply as possible, so her actions primarily resulted in even more intense stimulation to the both of us.

At last we began to calm and I relaxed my grip on her body. Susan lay still on the blanket, her hands still bound in front of her, but as I began to pull back slightly I felt her muscles give an involuntary squeeze, attempting to hold me within. Then she let her ring relax and the feeling as my now super sensitive tool slid past her muscles and emerged once again into the real world left me shuddering.

I untied her hands and we lay together, our hands lightly caressing each other, and let our breathing return to normal. At last Susan turned to me and kissed me. "That was wonderful, Alex."

I stammered something in reply and then asked, "You really like it?" She nodded and I continued. "You don't think it's perverted or something? And it's not really dangerous?"

Susan let her hand lightly touch my face. "No, Alex, there's nothing wrong with it. Where is the harm?" I had to admit I couldn't actually think of any. She went on, "It must be done carefully to prevent injury, let the body adapt to the intrusion, but otherwise there's no danger. Of course, you need to wash before we do anything else to prevent any infection. You should probably take the cloth from the pack and do that now. But as long as we're careful there's no danger and the sensations it produces are rather incredible, aren't they?"

I nodded dumbly and finally said, "I never imagined anything could be like that. You're a doctor so if you say there's no danger, I believe it. I'll admit I've never done anything like that before. In fact, I've never really thought about it. But it was unbelievable. I would not be adverse to trying it again sometime."

Susan laughed, the sound like tinkling water once more. "I'm sure we will. We can't too often or I might get a little sore, but don't be afraid to suggest it." Susan took the cloth from my hand and finished washing my member.

Susan and I stayed in our spot all night. We made love several more times, falling asleep for periods and awakening again filled with lust. When I awoke once I found that the sun had risen and was well above the horizon. We made love a final time and then, almost reluctantly, made our way back down the trail where we shared a shower - Have I ever changed in the last few weeks! Sharing a shower with a woman in a communal bathhouse. Then we headed to the kitchen to find some breakfast before catching a couple of more hours sleep.

March 10 (Eight Day)

After lunch Susan and I went down to the beach area we use for swimming. We found Nate and Joan and the two nurses already there and joined them. Over the new few hours we all spent time swimming, lying on blankets in the sun, and mostly just talking. No one even commented on Susan's and my absence the previous night, even though I'm sure someone must have noticed. Part way through the afternoon George and Bob joined our group.

As I have said, when we swim - and, for that matter - when we are just lying around relaxing on the beach, no one bothers to wear even a sarong. I am surprised by how quickly I have adapted to spending time in mixed company nude, but by now I don't even find it in the least bothersome. I also enjoy the view and it appears that the women are equally entertained by looking at our male bodies.

Another thing about which I still am a little confused. As might be expected when a group of relatively young men and women spend time naked in close proximity, there was a lot of touching, kissing, and feeling of a sexual nature. No one ever seems to be in the least embarrassed or bothered when these "demonstrations of affection" occur. Even when a member of a "couple" like Nate and Joan begins to play with someone else, there never seems to be the least animosity on anyone's part. I have accepted this even though I don't really understand why. I was at first surprised when Susan even pushed me towards other women - as she had with Tami that first punishment session - but I have found that she bears no jealously whatsoever. Even more astounding to me, I have found that when, as this afternoon, someone else - in this case it was Bob who first did it - when someone else begins to kiss or caress her, I felt no real jealously myself, despite the fact that I am coming to believe I'm falling in love with her.

The normal rules do not seem to apply here. And when Bob's attentions began to become more intimate, his hands and tongue beginning to explore the more private portions of her body, I still felt only happy about the pleasure he was bringing Susan. And when Deborah moved behind me, pressing her nude body against mine while letting her arms wrap around me, her hand caressing my partly excited member, I turned to her not with any idea of getting even with Susan, but rather merely in the expectation of the pleasure our activities would bring us. Soon Joan and Nate and Deborah and I were all down on the blankets making love while the other four were nearby, watching and doing some teasing of their own. I - and I am sure none of the others - felt anything expect pleasure and joy. As I said, I don't really understand it, but I have come to accept it.

March 11 (Nine Day)

Last night was another first - perhaps the most unexpected of my stay here.

The staff ate together and then broke up, going in different directions either singly or as couples. Susan and I sat for a while talking and watching the sun set over the sea. As dark began to fall the conversation turned to the punishment sessions. Now that I think about it, I believe Susan deliberately steered it in that direction. But, regardless of how we got there, at some point I asked about what was inside the punishment shed. "I know you must keep the whips and such there, but that's a pretty big building. There must be something else in there."

Susan laughed. "There is. Sometimes - especially if the weather is bad - punishment sessions are held inside. Would you like to see it?"

Of course, by then I said I would. We stood up and began to make our way along the path, turning when we neared the area where I had watched the - yes, festivities is the right word - where I had watched the festivities days before. The building was dark, but Susan led me up to a door and inside. There were some windows high up, but not enough light to really see anything. "Wait here a second," Susan said. "I'll light some gas lights."

In a couple of minutes she had ignited several of the wall mounted lamps and their glow illuminated the large space. I looked around and was only a little surprised to see a number of devices similar to those I had observed in use outside. There were a couple of vertical posts with high crossbars - whipping posts - along with a number of various kinds of benches, usually padded and with rings and straps for binding the victim. Chains hung from the ceiling in several places and there were some waist high bars obviously for bending a victim over. A couple of tables, a large X-shaped cross, and a few other unidentifiable items completed the furnishings.

There were several cabinets along one wall and Susan led me over. She began opening doors and drawers and showing me a variety of cuffs, straps, chains, and other binding devices along with a truly vast collection of whips, crops, straps, switches and other flogging instruments.

I picked up a cat of nine tails and let the leather strands flow across my hand. Almost too quietly to hear I asked, "What does it feel like?" Then I shook my head and added, "I mean, I know it hurts, but it also seems to excite. I guess I still don't really understand."

"That's not really surprising," Susan replied. "It's something completely outside your usual experience. Everyone is curious when they first see these things. You know from watching the two sessions that what we do here is not really awful or anything and that everyone involved gets some pleasure from it. But it's not just the sting of the whip. Part of what makes it exciting is the helplessness. You saw me yesterday. I couldn't use my hands and that really excited me."