The Resort

Day Nine. Resident

Now that we've begun to settle into the Oasis, I can see just how small and isolated it is. It's a virtually self-contained community. Twenty minutes' walk from the centre of Resort Village, it has accommodation and amenities (including a restaurant, a cafeteria and even a nightclub) for several hundred staff, but it's compact enough to feel slightly claustrophobic. And while our stay in the Andromeda Hotel gave us a chance to acclimatize to Aranea, now that this is my permanent abode it will take a bit of extra adjustment. Still, the lifestyle offers more than enough in compensation.

The four of us met to have a final breakfast together in Rachel and Richard's apartment. Three of us were already dressed to begin our first day as members of the staff. Richard looked dapper, if a little quaint, in his floral shirt and beige trousers. Rachel and I had consulted the staff handbook for our own outfits. There is a chart with several variables (job description, work environment, day of the week, time of the year, current weather conditions) and it specified for both of us the "bikini style A-2" which is the balconette bandeau top and side-gather hipster bottom, to be worn with the pink hibiscus pāreu tied on the left hip. It even specifies sandals, not covered shoes, so I put on my Qupid strappies. We also wore our collar, bracelets and anklets. (I was a little disappointed that I wasn't yet qualified to wear my Ranger uniform.)

As Rachel and I cleared up the breakfast detritus, Daniel made a mysterious phone call, went downstairs and returned with Matthew, who introduced himself to Richard and performed a goofy double-take at the sight of Rachel. I sometimes forget how gorgeous she is (out of familiarity, not jealousy), that she turns heads even on an island swarming with scantily clad women. She graciously gave him a moment to compose himself and then very astutely said something to me, reminding him of where his attention should be focused.

Matthew informed me that Jason had come as well, but had chosen to remain outside the building, where the show was about to begin. I had no idea what he, Matthew and Daniel had planned for the day, and thought it was best not to ask. (Plausible deniability, just in case.) Then came another knock. It was Kate, performing her penultimate duty as our guide.

"The parade is getting organized," she announced.

Rachel and I grabbed our bags and we all went downstairs and out to the large area of freshly mowed grass at the northern end of the complex. Jason now joined us, just as executive director Maggie came up to say hello. She showed the proper professional courtesy towards Matthew and Jason, asking if they were enjoying their holiday and appearing genuinely interested in what they had to say. She didn't seem to know that Jason was a resident; and I give him credit for not letting on. He, on the other hand, was aware of her rank and discreetly informed Matthew, who was flattered by her inquiry and impressed that someone of such importance had come to greet us. It was just dawning on him that we were no "ordinary" residents. (This still bothers me, because I have yet to do anything to warrant my VIP status and reception, besides exist.)

We waited as more people assembled on the grass. Maggie left us and began issuing instructions to a group of male staff. Matthew and Jason and especially Daniel appeared spellbound by this diminutive, charismatic woman, half-clad in her skimpy sarong, wearing collar and shackles, yet radiating self-assurance and authority as she gave orders to the fully clothed men who towered over her. I'm hoping there's a lesson in that for the guys, but I'm not confident that my cavalier cousin will absorb it.

Most of the hundred and fifty or so resort workers who had gathered were females, some of whom had already been prepared -- that is to say, cuffed, gagged and blindfolded, and hobbled with ankle chains. All the men, heavily outnumbered, were engaged in getting the women ready for their pageant. Ranks were beginning to form -- actually a single file that zigzagged across the lawn. I saw several women whom I've already met, including Amanda, Jane and Rangers Laura and Sabrina. Participation in the daily procession to Resort Village is not mandatory; but most women choose to join in and I have the feeling there is a tacit expectation that we be a part of it, or that it would be ungracious to opt out. But to tell the truth, I had been looking forward to this experience since we first became acquainted with it. (Just four days ago? It seems like forty.)

I took my ball-gag, red sash blindfold and ankle chain out of my shoulder bag and gave them to Matthew, then slung the bag across my torso diagonally. I put my arms behind me and Matthew clamped my cuffs together, and then he inserted my gag. Richard was doing the same for Rachel, while Daniel handled Kate. He lingered over the task, drawing her arms tightly behind her back to accentuate her front. She gasped, shut her eyes and bit her lip, and it was hard to tell if she was suffering or savouring it. (When you're being properly bound it can be both.) Once she was gagged, blindfolded and hobbled as well, Daniel wasn't sure what to do next; but Maggie waved her hand and a sharp-eyed male minion came over, took custody and led Kate to a place in the line. Daniel and Jason then wandered over to where a group of women without partners were working on each other. When the two guys offered their services, the ladies welcomed the extra pairs of hands... or at least they didn't object.

Jason and Daniel managed to cuff, gag, blindfold and hobble four women, and as they finished with each pair one of the male staff led them off to their positions in the line, which was by now almost a hundred bodies in length and still growing. Meanwhile, Maggie returned to us and directed Richard and Matthew to take Rachel and me to the very rear of the assembly, where a smaller cluster was being prepped. As soon as she had done so, a young man approached and she nodded and placed her hands behind her back.

At this point Matthew applied my blindfold and steered me to the end of the secondary queue before connecting the chain to my ankle cuffs. I realized that we had been assigned to the newcomers' group, which is not expected to keep pace with the veterans who have been making this trek to the town for months or even years. Once in line I was tethered to the women in front and behind by leashes clipped to our collars. I could tell we were about an arm's length apart, and that my partner in front was very tall because of the way our connecting cable lightly grazed my chin as it slanted upwards to her neck. I think Rachel was placed directly behind me.

Upon a command from one of the men, we started on the long march. After that, I don't know what happened with Richard and the other guys. For all I knew they could have been strolling along beside us, or they may have gone their own ways immediately. By the time we reached our destination, only Matthew was left. In the meantime, it had been an arduous but interesting challenge. After shuffling uphill along a path that runs parallel to the high ground (on our left), for most of the journey we followed the road which curves around the ridge (to our rear) on its way to Pirate's Cove. Traversed on foot, the rod felt a lot less smooth than it had when we were riding in the buggy; but it was relatively straight and sloped gradually downwards to the outskirts of the Village. I could roughly measure our progress by the rising volume of noise from an increasing number of spectators, but also by the panting and puffing sounds of myself and my fellow prisoners as fatigue set in. It was not a huge distance -- I estimated about 1600 steps -- but with blindfolds and hobbles hindering our movement and gags restricting our breathing, it quickly became heavy going. By the end most of us were moaning softly from the exertion.

And yet the most irritating part was a young man with a gratingly high-pitched voice pacing us by bellowing "Left, right, keep it tight, left, right, keep it tight..." constantly and almost directly into my ear. The cadence was necessary to keep us from bunching up or stumbling over each other's feet, but was no less annoying for that.

When finally a halt was called we had been trudging for almost half an hour. Along the entire way we were watched and admired by spectators who lined the route. They clapped and some cheered, and when I heard of roar of applause I knew the vanguard of our column had reached City Hall. Our newbies' group did not form rows like the rest of the women. Instead we just stopped and waited at the rear of the assembly. The routine we had witnessed the other day was repeated, with Maggie calling out names, orders and assignments. Of course, this procedure applied to a minority of the staff since most had permanent duties, but it was part of the pageant.

Then there was more shuffling, and when Matthew removed my blindfold I saw that Rachel was gone and both the staff and the crowd were quickly dispersing. About half of all the women had been released from their bonds, while the rest were led away as they were. I had no idea what I was supposed to do or where I was expected to go, but it was Kate who, after she'd been released, came up to us and said "Time to go." Matthew took out my gag and detached my ankle chain and put them in my bag, but left my hands cuffed behind my back. We made arrangements to meet at lunchtime (after I looked to Kate and received her nodding assent) and then Kate ushered me away. She wanted to know all about my boyfriend, and when I declared that he is not my boyfriend she just smiled and insisted on knowing everything anyway. Then she wished me "Good luck," and her chaperoning job was done.

"Hi again," I heard from behind me. It was Tim, who was with the other of my fellow Ranger trainees, Layla. She was still gagged and blindfolded, as well as bound. He was holding the leash that remained attached to her collar. Mine was still trailing from my throat, so he took hold of it as well; but he didn't restore my blindfold or gag. He must have known what to do; I didn't have a clue. He led us into City Hall. And so I began my first day as an employee of the Aranea Island Resort. Since I wasn't wearing my uniform, I didn't expect to be allocated Ranger duties straight away. Instead, the three of us were assigned to the information and inquiries unit, not answering calls but logging and cataloguing comments, complaints and responses. It was not difficult work, and I'm only doing the job for a week, but it was tedious and I was glad when noon arrived.

For the next few days I have two bosses. Lillian is in her mid-thirties, statuesque and graceful but somewhat aloof in her manner, with flowing, flaming red hair and eyes the colour of gleaming blue sapphires. She is in charge of "customer interaction" -- the phone-answering part of the operation. She has an intimidating mien and a withering glare, and I'm glad that I got through my first day without incurring her undoubtedly dreadful wrath.

Her colleague Gordon, who was the only male in the section besides Tim, is responsible for "information management" -- the stuff I do. He is a bit younger than Lillian, ruggedly handsome with tousled sandy hair. He looks like should he be on a surfing beach and was thus faintly ridiculous in his crisp tan trousers and rambunctiously florid shirt. He's so diffidently soft-spoken that you strain to hear what he's saying; and he appears to languish in a perpetual state of existential gloom, despite spending his working day supervising a roomful of bikini-clad females.

The morning was uneventful. There is no mandatory bondage while on duty because we're out of the public's view, but it's impossible to forget what's going on beyond the walls of your workplace when you're wearing your collar and cuffs. During the mid-morning break a couple of the girls gagged themselves. I don't know why and I didn't emulate them. I was desperate for my coffee and cake. I got to speak with a few of my co-workers, who seemed unaware of my family connection, or were either uninterested or disinterested. That's fine by me, and I hope the anonymity continues.

Just before lunchtime, Lillian presented the three of us with our Ranger pins, without ceremony. Tim stuck it on his shirt collar, Layla and me in our bandeau top over the left breast. Soon afterwards Matthew had come to meet me. He was perceptive enough to congratulate me on my newly acquired badge.

There is a refectory for staff and their guests inside the building, where meals are provided free or at a nominal cost. I wasn't sure if Matthew would be able to eat free of charge as well. He came prepared to pay, but we decided to go to a nearby cafeteria. He cuffed and blindfolded me but kept me ungagged so we could talk. He fed me some yummy empanadas (savoury pastries with various fillings). He was careful to ensure that I didn't spill or dribble my food and drink onto my uniform. A couple of times he dabbed my chest with a napkin, and I have taken his word that there was some spillage to mop up. (I can't conceive of any ulterior motive.)

As I've mentioned, it's a challenge having a conversation with a guy while you're

dans le noir

(literally in the dark), but in its own way very romantic. The blindfold makes interaction difficult. Without your eyes to provide cues and clues, you have to rely on your partner's tones and inflections, and on your own intuition. Misunderstandings can occur; but you quickly become receptive to subtleties of expression and movement. The lightest touch of his fingertips fondling your hair, caressing your cheek or stroking your arm sends shivers through your entire body. And it brings you closer together. In the darkness you feel disconnected from the world beyond his reach, while the space between the two of you shrinks down to nothing.

Having my arms bound behind my back creates its own issue. Without the use of my hands for gestures, my speech has a tendency to compensate by speeding up, until it liquesces into an incoherent babble. Several times Matthew had to press his fingers against my lips; but his warning that he might gag me was a hollow threat.

As he took me back to City Hall for the afternoon shift, Matthew had to steer me through some heavy pedestrian traffic. Just before we parted, he shyly asked if I was interested in dinner. "Just the two of us!" he quickly added. I translated it as "Are you getting bored with me?" and almost said "No" before catching myself and replying "Yes, I'd love to!"

The p.m. session in the information and inquiries unit was quiet, to the extent that I was thinking "This is an easy way to earn a wage." I guess the guests get their frustrations out of their system before lunch. But I had a three o'clock appointment at the Ranger depot.

As I had been about to sign out, Lillian called me over to her work station. I worried that I might have done something wrong, but she just smiled. She knew where I was headed and told me to take off my sarong. For tying on the hip it's folded in half, so she instructed me to open it up. Then, to illustrate what to do, all of a sudden she reached behind her back, unfastened her bikini top and took it off, smoothly and without the slightest inhibition. Gordon was watching, but she was completely unfazed and unabashed as she untied her pāreu and retied it over her boobs, turning it from skirt to strapless minidress. I followed her lead, but faced away from our one-man audience... not so much, I confess, out of coyness as to avoid a less than flattering comparison with Lillian's outstanding assets. Thus re-outfitted, I went to my interview.

It was a ten-minute walk though Resort Village, and it felt strange to be unaccompanied and unrestrained. The interview did not last long and was routine. I don't know what would have happened if I'd flunked it.

I had the rest of the afternoon free, which was good because Daniel was scheduled to fly out at four-thirty. Rachel and Richard were there with me to see him off, in the Village, since there were not enough taxies to take us and the other departing guests to the airfield. Daniel looked a bit glum about having to go, but was with a young woman he introduced as Bridget. She mumbled a "hello" through her gag. She was standing in a slightly bent forward pose on account of a very tight crotch-rope. I'm sure she's pretty, but her face was distorted by the monstrous ball-gag below her blindfold. Her breasts were thrust forward by a stringent elbow-tie and at the same time squeezed by a very constricting chest harness. It was her last hurrah before leaving the island; and she took her seat in the buggy with all her bondage accoutrements intact. It must have been an interesting ride for her, over and around the several ridges on their way to catch their flight.

I walked alone back to the Oasis, feeling a little guilty about not informing Matthew that I was finished work for the day. But we met outside my apartment building at the appointed hour (six o'clock). I put on exactly the same ensemble I'd worn on our first "date", the powder blue Chambray ruffle blouse and flirt skirt, burgundy choker, Velcro fun cuffs, the mulberry red sleep-mask and the muzzle gag. We had dinner in the Bayview restaurant in the Oasis. You can dine there in style with a staff discount. It's open to tourists, who are not excluded from the Oasis, but few bother to make the trip. Because most people prefer to eat later in the evening, the place was only half-full. There is no "Ladies must be suitably restrained" sign at the entrance, like in the restaurant next to the Hotel Andromeda, and I didn't dine

sans vue

. Most of the patrons were in uniform but some were not and there was just one woman not wearing a collar or choker. None were bound in any other way, at any rate not that I could see.

Kate was sitting with a small group at a table nearby; and I could only stare in astonishment and admiration as she set about devouring a gargantuan conglomeration of proteins, fats and sugars. Given her svelte figure, she must burn off one heck of a lot of calories in nervous energy... or something. The guy next to her was so lovingly tender with his macaroni cheese that I was thinking, "For pity's sake, eat it or marry it!" On Aranea Island it seems that everything is done with zest.

I insisted on paying for the meal, with my staff card, and was gratified that Matthew didn't take this as a slight on his manhood. We shared a seafood basket, and came up with a schedule for how we might spend his last few days here together. We didn't broach the subject of how our relationship should progress after he's departed. Our plan was a simple one, to make the most of our time; and the first item on our agenda was to go straight to the Regatta Hotel. On our way, Matthew sensed that I wanted to walk and talk with him, arm in arm, without bonds or blindfold. I was delighted that I didn't have to say anything; he instinctively knew; and that bodes well for the future. He told me more about his life "back home." There were some surprises, but he felt the need to reiterate that there was no girl waiting for him. And when we laughed simultaneously, we both knew what the other was thinking. How is this very attractive person not taken? It was funny because we had the same thought at the same time and stared at each other. I won't go into more detail about his personal life. It's bad enough that you, gentle reader, have to deal with mine.

We had the whole suite to ourselves but spent the entire evening in Matthew's bedroom, in his bed. I wore a blindfold as he stripped me and I undressed him. (So he got to see me naked, while I have yet to share that privilege.) There was very little foreplay and I must confess that Matthew was a bit awkward and clumsy; but I found it endearing that he was not experienced with women. And afterwards he lay over me but not on me, still inside me but supporting his weight on his elbows because he didn't want to crush me. Well, I may be small but I'm tougher that I look. Still, it was a nice gesture. We chatted rather incongruously about mundane things, made jokes, and when we laughed our bodies' movements had me gasping with pleasure. We fell asleep and when we woke my blindfold was still in place. It was about an hour before dawn and Matthew decided to tie me lying on the bed. He didn't ask but I didn't object.