Long Weekend

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The drive down to the desert was lovely. I love the desert. There is just something about the mountain vistas and the sparseness of the terrain… and the warm air certainly agrees with me, especially at night. There is little that makes me feel sexier than flitting around in a wispy sundress at night in the desert… the warm breeze tickling my skin, making me long to be naked.

I’m not sure why I’m going on this trip. I mean I know why I’m going — you know I love the desert and, more importantly, wanted me to come along — but I’m still not sure why it’s important to you to have me on a golf weekend with a bunch of your friends I’ve never met. Still, it is a weekend at a lush resort in the desert and you’ve promised me repeatedly that I’ll have a good time…

The hotel is beautiful. It’s all I can do not to peel out of my clothes and into my bikini the minute we cross the threshold of our room. Considering how cute the bellman is who is carrying our bags, I’m half tempted to expose some skin.

You shoot me a sideways smirk. You know my penchant for baby-faced, barely legal boys and this cutie fits that mold perfectly. You busy yourself seeing what sort of view we have from the room’s picture window and let me flirt for a few minutes.

Finally the bellboy leaves, but not before bringing in a last piece I hadn’t noticed in the car. The leather doctor’s style bag sits menacingly on the bed. I simultaneously shudder and tingle at the sight of it.

I adopt the most cavalier attitude I can muster and busy myself with unpacking and chatting about the various details of the weekend ahead. After all, these are vanilla people we are spending the weekend with. Maybe the bag was already in your car or brought along simply as an after thought. Surely there won’t be an opportunity to put it to use given all the time we will be spending with your friends.

I’m just putting the last of my clothes in the dresser when I feel your hand on the small of my back. I am instantly upright.

“I think you should go take a hot shower. You seem tense. It will do you good to relax.”

Your voice is barely more than a whisper in my ear. You are running your fingers up and down my bare arms. I lean into you, wanting to melt into your body.

“Go on. I’ll bring you a glass of wine and you can slide into the weekend. You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

There is no point in arguing with you. Not that I want to anyway. A shower will do me good and the pool isn’t going anywhere. I’ll be lounging in the sun soon enough.

The shower does feel great. I am definitely feeling more relaxed by the time I come out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel wrapped turban-style around my head.

“Come over here.” Your stern tone gives me pause. “You heard me, young lady. Come over here.”

It takes me less than two seconds to cross the room and stand in front of the gaziantep escortlar small couch where you are sitting. So much for the relaxation of the shower — my heart is racing. I’m trying desperately to figure out how, and why, things seem to have changed so much in the time I took in the bathroom.

The feel of your hand opening my naked legs brings me back from my thoughts. Even in my nervousness I can’t help but respond to your touch.

“I promised you that you would have a good time this weekend, didn’t I?”

I nod in silent confirmation.

“But I never told you what kind of good time, did I?” You smile up at me and I can see the mischievous spark in your eyes.

You stand up to face me and kiss me deeply. Instantly I melt into your touch, into your mouth. There is never a time when you kiss me like this that I don’t want you inside me desperately. With your hands firmly on my shoulders you push my hungry mouth away and turn me so that my back is to you. You are close enough that I can feel your breath on my neck. It gives me goose bumps… and makes my nipples erect.

Silently you place the blindfold over my eyes and adjust it, making sure it is tight enough to eliminate any chance it might slip. I will no longer see anything, not even a sliver of light, until it is removed. Your hands move to my wrists wrapping them with tight leather cuffs. You encase my ankles in the same way.

You half walk, half shove me toward the bed. One quick push and I am splayed face down on the cool sheets. I can feel one large warm hand on my right wrist and the other on my left ankle. I moan a quiet protest into the mattress. There are few more vulnerable positions then being naked and hogtied and that is exactly the position you are putting me in.

As if reading my thoughts, your hand is between my legs, opening me. You pinch my clit hard.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully”, your voice is serious but warm. I know immediately that you are not unhappy with me and this is not a punishment. It helps me to relax even though you continue to pinch my clit with agonizing pressure.

“From now until I remove your blindfold you are to do anything you are told to do. You may be told to do something verbally or you may be shown physically what is expected of you. No matter what happens, you are to behave and submit yourself no matter what. Do you understand me?”

My mind is reeling. Submit myself no matter what? That means no begging for mercy… no safe word… no way to stop. You don’t wait long for me to fully consider this new reality. Your fingers are like pliers on my clit. The pain makes my eyes water.

“Do you understand me?” Now your voice is stern. I know I have no say in this.

I nod. My face still buried in the bed.

The last word I hear as you leave me, alone, naked, hogtied and blindfolded is “good.”


I stopped trying to keep track of how many times I heard the door open a while ago.

It seems like hours that the men have come in and out of the room. At first they came individually. Then, as the day wore on, they came in pairs or various multiples. It has become impossible to keep track.

Other than the occasional, “suck it, bitch” or lurid comment about the various qualities or feel of my ass and cunt, no one has spoken. I’ve heard nothing but the sounds of breathing, grunting, straining and coming.

I have no idea how many different men have used me. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the wash of sensation being created in my body by the hands, mouths and cocks that have been everywhere on me… everywhere in me.

I have been a good girl… I have been a good slut. I have willingly given myself to everyone who has come into the room — in whatever way they have wanted me to be good for them. Some have wanted me to feel pain. Others have wanted to tease me mercilessly with pleasure. Still others have used me as nothing more than a hole for their cock. I’ve taken it all eagerly. I’ve wanted it all… desperately.

I’ve been alone in the room now for some time. The last men left me untied and curled on my side on the bed. Tossed away exactly like the used vessel I am. There are few places on my body that don’t ache. My cunt, ass and mouth all feel stretched. My jaw is sore and it already hurts to open my mouth fully. My nipples are beyond tender, having been abused by any number of things. My clit is nearly raw from friction and also from those few who knew best how to torture me. My legs ache from being spread wide as do my arms and back.

I’m still taking a mental inventory of my various ‘injuries’ when I hear a key in the door. My stomach twists. I don’t know how much more there is to give. I close my eyes tight against the blindfold and hold my breath.

The feel of your hands spreading my legs and your tongue swirling around my clit bring me back to life. I lay relaxed and open to your touch for a long time. Over and over I ride the waves of pleasure you bring me; each one the perfect adjunct to all my earlier moments of divine suffering.

Afterwards we lay holding each other and catching our collective breath. It is not long before my stomach is growling.

“You hungry?” you tease.

My stomach growls its response before I get a chance to open my mouth. I’m starving.

“Everyone is gathering for dinner soon and you haven’t met my friends yet… it’s time to get dressed.”


Dinner is more fun than I would have imagined. Your friends are, not surprisingly, charming, warm, articulate and funny. I am surprised by how large a group we are. Including the handful of wives in attendance, there are more than thirty of us. It’s not long before we are all making various plans for golf and spas and shopping.

Despite the lightness of the night, I am reminded of my afternoon now and again; mainly whenever I move my legs or adjust myself in my chair. You catch me at one of these moments just in time to see the smallest wince flicker over my face. You smile and lean in close making sure only I can hear you.

“Look around this table. These are all great guys, aren’t they? You can honestly say you like these men, can’t you?”

I nod in agreement. I can honestly say I like your friends.

“Well that’s good because half of the men at this table were in our room earlier today.”

I grab my napkin and pretend I’m coughing, desperately trying to cover my gasp.

“Yup. That’s right. Half the men at this table know what you are…

the other half just think you’re my girlfriend.”

I meet the gaze of one and then another and then another of your friends. They all seem oblivious to our tête-à-tête. Who?!? My eyes dart from one face to the next but there are no signs from anyone! No knowing smirks, no sideways glances, no cute little winks only for me… nothing. It’s as if what happened this afternoon has been completely forgotten by everyone… everyone but me.

I sit back in my chair stunned and more than a little embarrassed. I can see your huge smile out of the corner of my eye. You are delighting in my complete humiliation!

You lean in again, squeezing my hand. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. You have no need to worry. The wives are utterly clueless about today’s events. Didn’t I tell you this trip would be fun?”


The rest of the weekend is a blur of resort activities. Shopping and spa treatments followed by drinks, dinners and clubs with the assembled group. Whether en mass or in smaller numbers, none of the men ever allow even the slightest hint of any awareness of our escapades. The lack of even the slightest hint of the identity of your cohorts leaves me feeling completely exposed to the entire group. I spend most of the weekend finding it difficult to make eye contact with anyone.


Sunday afternoon finally arrives. Although I’ve mainly been able to enjoy myself, I was never able to completely shake my feeling of nakedness around your friends. A fact you have delighted in teasing me about all weekend.

We’re standing at your car, watching the same bellboy who took our bags out of the trunk on Friday put them back in. He’s every bit as cute as I remember, maybe more so.

He finishes his chore, closes the trunk and turns to us… turns to me. He reaches for my hand, bringing it to his lips. He eyes me intently, a wicked smile on his adorable face.

“It was a true pleasure to have you stay with us, Ma’am. I really hope you will

come back and be with us again soon.”

I stand stunned, mouth agape and watch the bellboy’s back as he walks off whistling. I look over at you incredulous. You’re smiling broadly, chuckling.

“Well at least now you know who one of them was.”

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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