Callie's Rest

He stood on the steps of the garden surveying the party. He didn't know the guests; he'd had a friend tell him about this hotel, and thought he'd give it a try. It certainly was a far cry from the Ramada's and Holiday Inn's he'd always stayed at before.

It was an old hotel, still called Carruthers Hotel, though under different ownership than the original old family, rebuilt on a smaller one sometime in the 1800's. And it was beautiful! It's Old World ambience seeped from the beautiful wood work and antique furniture. Even the bar, which he had just left, was modeled on the original, with just a bar to rest your feet, and a narrow shelf for your elbows. It was a man's bar; there were tables for the ladies, though it felt as though single ladies weren't encouraged.

Which left him wondering- what was the entertainment in this place? The bartender, an old fellow with a worldly look about him told him he was welcome to join the party outside.

His name was Niall. He had come from the UK to do business in Arizona, and usually it was straight there and back, but this time his business trip fell at the same time he had some earned days off, so he had taken advantage of the extra time to see some sights. His co worker, Liam, had told him about this place and warned him no matter what- don't skip it! But he never enlightened him as to why, and now here he was... bored to tears, and working on his third scotch. And fine scotch it was; he was already feeling the effects, even though he had been drinking it all his life. He didn't know what make it was; all the liquor was poured from beautiful antique cut glass decanters. But he wasn't about to complain. He ordered another one, and somehow found himself outside surveying the guests.

A few nodded or spoke as they passed him on the stairs, seeming friendly enough, but there was a sort of secret aura about them, as if they all knew something he didn't. That was alright, though, as he wasn't a gregarious person himself. Traveling a lot had taught him that; especially in the feminine department. He liked his encounters to be short and sweet, with no repercussions later.

He strolled slowly around the garden, nodding and speaking on occasion to some of the guests. It didn't appear that this was a party for anything special; rather just a gathering of the townspeople, or the upper crust of the town at least. He could hear waves in the distance, so he made his way in that direction, grabbing another scotch from the waiter's tray twice as he made his way towards the woods.

Just before he entered the woods he felt an urge to look back towards the hotel. Was he drunk already? He was feeling a bit wobbly, but that wasn't unusual- he was after all, very tired from his flight to New York, and then to Portland, and then the long ride to Callie's Rest, the town he had been told not to miss. But as he looked back he swore he saw a different party... all the guests were dressed either in high collared, stiff necked shirts and tails, or ball gowns of varying shades of greys and black, and off white. No bright colors- unless you counted the myriad of jewels that decorated the ears and bosoms of every lady present. It seemed as if a mist had settled on the party, even the string quartet sounding muted. Hadn't he just heard a swing band as he grabbed his last drink? He looked at the glass in his hand, and glanced back again and everything was as usual. Shaking his head he looked around and found a path thru the woods... the sounds of the ocean pounding on the rocks beckoning to him in some primal way.

As he walked he had the sensation of the woods closing in on him. He shook it off as nonsense and stayed on the path. But strangely enough, where he walked the path seemed quite clear, but he couldn't see it five feet in front of him and when he looked back he couldn't see it at all.

In fifteen minutes he was standing on the rocky ledge that overlooked the ocean. It was perhaps a hundred foot drop to the jagged wall of rocks that the waves were crashing into- as if to knock them down. The noise was quite loud, but strangely soothing, and combined with the scents of the salt spray and the pine woods, he became mesmerized. He found a comfortable looking tree, and sort of slid down it til he was sitting spraddled legged and feeling quite tipsy.

Did he fall asleep? All of a sudden he was chilled thru, though it was the middle of June. He knew it got chilly in Maine at night but this seemed a different kind of cold. He seemed to have shaken himself awake, shivering. He stood to get his bearings. The full moon provided plenty of light, but not being familiar with the night skies in America, he couldn't look at it and tell the time. He decided to make his way back to the party, and then to his room for a hot bath and a warm bed, when he heard someone crying. Or at least he thought he did; it stopped before he could guess the direction it was coming from.

He waited, and hearing nothing but the waves, he headed back towards what he thought was the path that had brought him here. He hadn't walked far when he heard the cry again. This time he could tell it was off to his left... some ways from the precipice... back towards the Hotel. He moved quickly toward the sound, and soon came upon a moonlit clearing. He stopped in awe, for this looked like the work of Faeries, though he hadn't believed in the Little People since he was six years old. The clearing was surrounded by ancient birch trees, their bark gleaming white in the light of the moon. The ground was covered with grass that looked as if it had never been trod upon, so soft and velvety. Over to one side was a strange shaped hump. "One of New England's famous rocks." he surmised, though it, too, was covered by the same luscious grass.

Feeling guilty though he had no clue why, he walked over and sat on the mound. He wanted to be still in case he heard the cry again, and he didn't have to wait long. He heard a sobbing behind him and turned toward the sound. There, coming toward him, was the most beautiful woman (girl?) he had ever seen! A mist had settled over the woods, somewhat dimming his vision, but thru it he could easily see that this lady was exquisite! She was very tiny (that's why his first impression was that she was a mere girl), but as she came closer he could plainly see she was all woman. She was dressed in some kind of antique night wear. He knew vintage clothing was popular these days but these clothes seemed made for this woman.

She wore an empire waisted, very low cut night gown. The fabric was sheer- not silk, but some sort of chiffon, embroidered all over with tiny violets. Though the gown was full length with long sleeves it hid nothing. Her breasts swelled at the deep neckline and her dark nipples showed as if there were no cloth there, and as she moved he could see she had nothing on underneath, her hips heart shaped and her mound a dark spot that he couldn't take his eyes off of. At most she was five feet tall, maybe less, her hair, black as a raven's wing, tucked back into a lavender hand crocheted snood, full and smooth, and so heavy he knew it would be long if let loose. There were tiny black pearls in her ears and a larger one set in a pendant round her neck. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as if she were a china doll, which is what Niall thought she was at first. She was bare foot, and so tiny she didn't even disturb the grass she walked on.

As he watched, spellbound, she walked past him, still sobbing as he watched her go. He couldn't move, noticing her buttocks as she walked, as firm and tight as a ballet dancers. Suddenly he remembered why he had come looking for her, and ran to catch her. "Miss," he said, reaching for her shoulder, amazed because she felt as slight as a bird. "Can I help you?"

She stopped, and turned quickly, her eyes widening as she turned. "Damien!! You've come at last! Oh, mon cherie- I knew they were wrong, that you would come for me!" She stood and placed her tiny arms around his neck, and began to sob for real now. "Oh, my love, how I have longed for you, for your touch, your kiss, your love! I knew you would return, but I allowed them to convince me otherwise, and now I am so ashamed!! Can you ever forgive me?"

Niall stood as if under a spell. Damien? Who was Damien? "Excuse me Miss, but you are mistaken. My name is Niall, and I don't believe we've ever met!"

At that she began to smile and wiped away her tears with a very tiny hand. Niall fell... down and down as in a whirlpool as he gazed into her lavender eyes, and he knew he had to know her better, regardless of his business plans. Taking her by the hand, he led her back to the mound he had been sitting on and motioned for her to sit, settling himself on the ground, and thinking for a second she appeared as if she were sitting on an altar.

Reaching out her tiny hand she began to search his face...at first addressing him in French, but then switching to English as she noticed his bewilderment. Her hand touched his eyes, his lips, smoothed back his hair as she said in a voice almost too soft to hear "I have waited a long time, Damien, maybe too long. Have you found another? Someone smarter, richer, prettier than me, my love? Is that what you came back to tell me? Is that why you stayed away so long?

Niall was stunned, but still had some wit about him, and decided to play along. "Is there another like you, my darling? For if there is, then I have not found her in all my travels."

"So- you have come for your Callie after all? And what is it of Callie you desire most my love?" As she said this she pulled the skirt of her gown up a little and sat upon her knees, leaning towards him to trace his lips with her tongue. Niall felt a shock pulsate through him that he had never felt before, and as his tongue reached to meet hers, she whispered. "Ah! We might forget, but our bodies? Never!" And she reached for his hands and placed them on her breasts.

It was more than Niall could bear. All thoughts of identifying himself flew from his head as he felt himself drawn deeper and deeper into the aura around Callie. Her breasts felt like firm ripe peaches, warmed as if from the sun, and softly fuzzy. His thumbs brushed at her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her, and he pressed a bit harder. She moaned from deep within, and he dared to slide his hands inside the bodice of her gown, all the time watching her eyes turn a darker shade of violet and listening as her breathing became more and more irregular.

Knowing that she would stop him, but not caring, he slid his hands under her gown and up to her shoulders and pulled it down her arms, exposing her naked breasts in the moonlight, and as he did his own breath was stolen away. She was magnificent, more stunning than any Madonna carved by the ancient Greek Masters! Her breasts, though small, were plump amd heavy, and her nipples stood erect like dark raspberries. He could hardly take his eyes off them, and without realizing it, he soon had one in his mouth, tasting and sucking- his teeth catching the nipple and tugging on it as if to bite it off. She gasped, as if in pain, yet pulled his head towards him for more and as his fingers pressed the other and and caressed her as if she were rare fabric, his teeth sawed at the nipple of the breast in his mouth... eliciting a cry of pain, and a whispered "More, my love! I need to feel this for you!" His tongue lapped where he had just bitten, and he switched breasts, first licking wetly and blowing on it to make the nipple stand even straighter, then quickly giving it a hard bite and holding it, watching her as he pulled her nipple away from her body. Whispering she said "Master,my Damien, all that I have; all that I am, is yours! The pain you give to me is my pleasure! Never shall I refuse you anything! And never shall another man touch me!"

As Niall's mouth began to slide lower on her body, the import of her words hit him! Master? Untouched? "This has got to be a dream," he thought, "One from which I hope to never awaken!" His mind boggled at the thought of all that that could mean.

As if reading his thoughts, she stood and dropped her gown down around her ankles. Hands reaching up to loosen the net that held her hair she began to turn slowly in a circle. As her back came into view, and her firm, ripe buttocks, her hair fell in waves...ripples of blue black silk cascaded down past her cheeks. She paused and as she did so, Niall reached and parted her hair, and placed his hands - one on each cheek- on her glorious mounds. As if that were a signal to Callie, she bent and spread her legs a bit, and peeked at him over her shoulder, saying in a deeper, more provocative voice... "I have missed you much, Master!"

Niall, thinking, "If this is a dream, the worst that can happen is I wake up!," raised his hand and lightly slapped her... his hand large enough to slap both cheeks at once.

Callie grinned at him over her shoulder. "Your time away has softened you, has it not?" Niall, never having been in this situation before, was at a loss for words. So he slapped her again, harder, and heard a tiny moan escape her. He had heard of women like this, and read stories, but this was his first encounter. Racking his brain, he tried to remember what would be the next step. For obviously she was enjoying this.

He adjusted himself til he was beside her, and without stopping, spanked her hard three times, each time harder than the last. As he rubbed her cheeks afterward, trying to soothe her reddened skin, his hand became wet, and fearing he had made her bleed, he turned and looked closely. As he had spanked she had leaned further forward and now he could see her cunt in the bright light of the moon. No- it wasn't blood. It was juice... spreading into the crack of her ass, and beginning to run down her leg.

As he looked towards her, she turned and whispered "I adore you Damien, for only you know how to bring out the real passion in me!" On hearing those words Niall decided to go one step further, and pulled off his belt. Folding it he tried a tentative swipe at her back side. Her entire body began to shudder and as he looked he could see her getting even wetter, so standing, he swung back and cracked his belt across her tiny delicate buttocks w/ most of his strength. At this point there was no noise, and he thought he had gone too far and so he turned Callie over.

One look in her eyes told him what he needed to know- she was about to orgasm! Setting the belt on the ground, he used both hands and pulled her labia open. Her cunt was the palest pink; her hole was as tiny as a doll's and as she began to stiffen in orgasm, her white juices began to spurt from her. Leaning forward Niall began to lick at her, never having tasted cum so sweet before.

As her cries and spasms abated, Niall decided to go for broke. He pulled his own clothes off, allowing his huge member to hang free and wondered how much more he could take, for his penis was already engorged. She looked at him and gasped, and some hidden thought flickered across her brow, though she kept silent.

Niall had never seen such a beauty and he wanted to know every part of her. She was like a tiny doll, the kind that came from expensive stores in France. Parting her legs he looked carefully at her. "This woman has not been used overmuch," he thought as he examined her. She appeared to be coming aroused again so he continued his explorations, parting her labia and sliding his finger gently up to her tiny clit. As he reached it he felt her shudder and try to close her legs. Taking a breath, for he had no idea of her reaction, he said " You said you were mine; is that true?" She hesitated only a fraction of a moment, and then silently nodded.

Pushing her legs apart again, he inserted one index finger in her vagina... almost filling her. The other, he slid into her ass...slowly at first, and then in all the way. He watched her face as he moved his fingers in a ryhthm... first one pushed, then the other. Slowly he continued, and her eyes, though at first frightened, soon began to glaze over. Sitting beside her, she kneeling straight up, one hand on his neck for balance, the other behind her own head, he continued to work his fingers; he was deliberately slow and steady and her hips began to move with him, and her body began to quiver as she settled into the feeling, a feeling never before felt by her.

This time, he could tell, her orgasm was different; wilder, deeper, coming from some unknown place within her soul! He watched in awe as she let go of him and raising both arms in the air as if in offering, she began to howl, to cry as if she alone in the world cried and resting her full body on his pumping fingers, she began to spasm- one right after another til he felt she would break, yet she kept on. He felt the hot juices running down his fingers, pouring out of her til there was a puddle beneath her, and yet she continued to cum. In the bright moonlight and the light mist she looked like a goddess, a being from another time and place, and he felt her magic run from her into his fingers to find a place deep in his own soul.

Suddenly she stopped. Even her ragged breathing calmed and she slumped back on her heels, her head down, her hair covering her face. Niall, too, sat back, still unsure of himself, and in awe of what he had just seen. Never had he known a woman to give herself so completely to him, and in so doing, to give herself so much. He took a breath and reached to tilt her chin up, both of them silent now, joined in some magical way that required no words.

She reached for his arms and pulled him to his knees, and crawling off the mound, settled at his feet. She took him in her tiny hands and he thought his heart would beat out of his chest! She was so small that both hands fully wrapped around his cock barely covered half of it. And yet, unbelievably to him, she took him in her mouth. Watching her... seeing those dark perfect tiny lips around his crown; feeling her tiny tongue darting up and down on him was more than he could stand. She sucked, and an electric current seemed to pass thru him- straight to his groin. She sucked again and he gasped! He felt like her lips were made of fire and his ab muscles started working uncontrollably and his thighs quivered like leaves on a tree.

Her mouth! Looking at her mesmerized, he saw her glance up at him and smile, her mouth opened as wide as it possibly could to accommodate him. He felt the fire in his belly and began to panic. "There was no way she could handle this," he thought, but before he could make a move one of her tiny hands began to massage his sac... pulling and squeezing in the same rhythm she was sucking him. He, too, threw his head back and though he didn't howl, a low growl began deep in his chest as he felt the fire move, first in his thighs, then his belly. As his balls began to tighten he felt a chill run down his spine and the hair on his body stood up and he lost thoughts of everything but his coming release. Grabbing her head, at first gently, but soon not caring he began thrusting into her, driving himself deeper and deeper into her mouth. Suddenly the fire shot from his balls straight to his cock, and he pushed himself all the way into her, mindless of her size, and felt himself enter the tightness of her throat. As if from a distance he heard her gag, but he held his grip and began to explode. Wave after hot fiery wave exploded out of him; down her throat, and backing up and spilling out of her mouth, running down her chin, and still he came! Thrust after thrust, wave after wave... he kept shooting as though he had never cum in his life.

She felt his hands loosen on her head, and slowly she crumpled to the ground, her magnificent hair spread out around her. With her eyes closed she looked more like a Goddess than any picture he had ever seen. He was lost in her, and bending he licked her mouth and chin clean of his cum, and then on impulse he slid lower, and taking her entire vagina in his mouth he began to suck her clean there as well. His tongue drove into her, searching for every taste of her he could get, and even licking further, to where some juices had run between her cheeks. He licked her anus clean. She was delicious... there was no part of her that offended in any way, and she laid there, weak as a rag doll as he continued to lick her like a cat with a bowl of cream. Back and forth he would go, from her clit to her anus, but as he reached her clit each time he began to bite it gently. She stirred, grabbed for his head, but he couldn't stop now. He had to taste more of her! Biting once again, he pulled and gently sawed his teeth back and forth at the same time, her clit standing again as a rock, making it easier for him, and then he licked to her anus again... a tiny rosebud, so beautiful in the moonlight he probed with his tongue and then back to her clit.