Talent Scout

*** Acceptance ***

There was a knock on the door. Naked Ned opened to find Clarissa returned from her errand of informing her mother of her decision to take up a residency at the resort.

It wasn't quite what her mother had planned for this intervention holiday but anything was better than continuing Clarissa's declining prospects at the woke brain-drain liberal arts campus. She kissed her dear daughter goodbye and good luck. She would arrange to forward her things. And she could keep the glamour garb; besides, they couldn't figure out the jewelry catches, maybe Mr Jackson knew something about them.

Ned let her in and had her stand at room center.

"Your bellhop escort will be here soon. He will take you to your new residential quarters. But first, I'll need my shirt back."

It was a simple request. Clarissa saw her discarded risqué dress from the night before and moved to pick it off the floor. Ned halted her and took the dress away.

"I'll return it to the boutique for credit and resale."

She looked around the room for another piece of clothing. Ned knew there was nothing.

"I'll need my shirt back. Please give it to me."

Clarissa hesitated for a moment before plucking the buttons from neck to waist. She figured this naked man had fucked her three times since last night's party and he had seen her, all of her, as he had said he wanted to. She shrugged her shoulders and slid off the shirt, exposing her upper body to him. He reached out and she handed it over.

Without the covering shirt tail, Ned could see her camel toe formed by the tight panties. The cotton was stained with a drying seepage from her pussy, the dregs of his ejaculations mixed with her residual vaginal juices.

Ned stood naked with his back to the door. She stood facing him in the sequin-studded strappy heels, her wet spot panties, the gold wrist bands, the gold band choker, and her hairclip on the base of her ponytail. Her makeup was still intact, despite the numerous sex romps he had run her through. The rest of her was lusciously exposed youthful skin.

There was a knock at the door and Ned called out 'Enter'. A bellhop came into the room.

Clarissa's hands darted to her breasts, palms covering her nipples. Ned took hold of her wrists and lowered her arms to her sides.

"Oh, Ned, please..."

The thunder of his voice caused her to hop a jolt onto the toes of her heels. He held her arms down as he corrected her misbehavior.

"NED! How DARE you? Even though I gave your body unequaled raptures while you poached my precious essence with your greedy cunt, that doesn't give you leave to assume such familiarity. To you, I am MR JACKSON!"

Clarissa's eye formed a tear of fear in the corner.

"I'm sorry, Ne... Mr Jackson. But what will I wear now?"

"Just what you're wearing now."

Clarissa looked at the patiently waiting bellhop, her apparent escort staring at her tits. Ned released her wrists but she began to shyly raise her hands again to cover her breasts. He sighed, pushed her arms down once more, holding them in place, and spoke more calmly but with just as much authority.

"That won't do, Clarissa. If you can't behave, I can clip your wrists behind you as a reminder that you must do as told. These gold band inset rings can be easily broken, but if you do, there will be punishment. Do you want to be punished?"

Clarissa shook her head 'no' with barely perceptible moves. And tried to lift her arms again. Ned sighed again in exasperation and grabbed her wrists, pushing them behind her back and connecting the inset rings. She gulped back a sob of resignation.

Ned stepped back and leaned in, kissing her lips. His voice was soft and fatherly.

"This is the beginning of a wondrous journey for you. It may seem difficult at times, but you will be safe here and not be hurt... well, not much anyway, and not unnecessarily."

He opened a drawer and retrieved a thin 6-foot-long gold chain. It had a clip and ring at either end. He fastened the clip to the little inset ring in her collar and stepped aside, exposing her completely to the watching bellhop. Ned invited him forward and handed him the leash ring.

"Take her to brunch and then her assigned room. Go slow and take a longer route; she needs some practice walking in high heels with her wrists bound behind. But if she stumbles and gets damaged, it's bad news for you."

"Yes, sir, Mr Jackson."

Ned spoke quietly in her ear one more time.

"You are strong and can do this. Listen carefully to what you're told. Then... Obey! Go now; be a good girl."

Clarissa didn't respond and just stoically stared ahead, scared and apprehensive at the same time. Ned gave a wave to her escort and he backed slowly towards the door, letting the chain take up slack. Clarissa felt the tug at her neck but stood in place, a last-minute pang of reluctance. She felt the playful smack on her ass cheek as Mr Jackson reminded her of her duty to obey.

Fearing the punishment promised for damage to the cuffs, she interlocked her index fingers, which set her shoulders back and lifted her tits on a higher chest.

She took a step... and then another... and another. Her high-set boobs bobbled as her hips swayed in the model-like strut.

Clarissa's momentous quest for sexual nirvana had commenced.

*** Journey ***

Clarissa's cheeks were aglow with embarrassment. The bellhop had taken her slowly on a long route. They passed through the garden paths, the pool deck, and the interior recreation places. There were scattered groups and couples, in various states of nudity or nearly so, relaxing or playing games. One naked girl was kneeling on the lawn, blowing a man's cock. This was the elite exclusive side of the resort Island, her new home.

During the heels and cuffs practice stroll, she was ogled by many of the men. She could sense her boobs bouncing and swaying to the rhythm of her awkward stride. Some spoke compliments, others spoke rudely.

"Welcome... haven't seen you before... hope to see more of you, although there isn't much more to show... nice tits, babe...have you been a bad girl, 'cause I like bad girls..."

They arrived at the dining room. Several young women were seated around the tables. The bellhop took her to a table with three topless staffers. They were of various ethnicities and wore only heels and thong panties, like herself, but of different colors.

The bellhop fiddled with her wrists and unlocked the fragile rings. Clarissa had been careful and they had survived the jaunt without breakage. She at least wouldn't get punished for that; even if some men apparently liked to punish 'bad girls'. The bellhop addressed the seated staffers.

"Girls, this is Clarissa Conners, a new staff candidate, entering the program this morning. Get her some food and then I'll come by later for more orientation."

He left her there and a buxom lass named Huggies showed her the breakfast bar and helped her bring her plate to the table. Clarissa was famished and dug in.

"Gee, girl. You must be hungry. What have you been up to?"

"I got sucked and fucked three times before being paraded here in bondage and high heels."

"Ooh, that sounds great. Was it a nice fucking or a harsh fucking?"

"Nice. I think. I was a little out of it at first. But after the long night, I agreed to join the staff here to further my gender studies."

The girls laughed and said she was going to get plenty of 'studying'. Then the quartet fell into war stories, actually boudoir stories, and shared their experiences, beginning Clarissa's orientation and acclimation to her new life.

They were really impressed with Clarissa's narrative, showing true interest, delving for details, since they had experienced Mr Jackson's cockmanship but hadn't enjoyed the personal pleasure again for some time. They were so jealous of her luck.

"Mr Manfredi can be a pain. He usually sticks to the Area Managers for his pussy pleasures but if he takes a shine to you, be cooperative. He gets sensitive about his self-image and tends to get rough if he feels his machismo threatened."

The bellhop returned and dispensing with the leash, guided her elsewhere in this staff building to her room. Therein, he found the hidden screws that released the gold collar and cuffs. He placed them in a drawer, commenting that she could find them again if her schedule required.

Speaking of schedule, he demonstrated the computer. It was a touch screen that listed her daily itinerary and dress code. Scrolling days ahead, she noted her duties were light and the dress code repetitious: heels and thong panties.

"Explore your new home. Bathe, preen, and be ready at 2 for your next appointment."

By 2, she had bathed, fixed her hair and makeup, and changed her cum soiled panties. She was taken to Ms Daniels, the Assistant General Manager, and spent the afternoon with her meeting the other area managers and getting briefed on the different departments. She would be assigned initially to Recreation but would rotate month by month through the others.

Dinner was a singular meal alone with the General Manager, a middle-aged functionary who inquired of her past and planned future and stared blandly the whole time at her exposed tits. Yes, he told her at the end of the meal, those faint tan lines needed to disappear.

*** Adieu ***

She returned to her room. Upon entering, she sensed a presence. The ensuite bath door opened and a man emerged, one she readily recognized. He was wrapped in a waist towel, barefoot, and hair wet from a just-finished shower. She had seen him before, recently, and wearing even less than a towel, in fact completely nude.

"Mr Jackson. I thought you had your own guest suite."

"Of course, I do. But I wanted to see how you are coping and say 'goodbye' before leaving for my duties off the island."

Clarissa would have been put off several days ago: a half-naked man of her father's age in her room. But then she was also half naked, so maybe it was fitting. This was a very strange resort. She was anxious to have some alone time to digest all the new surroundings and circumstances. It was all so mind-boggling.

"May I help you dress for your travels, Mr Jackson?"

"Eventually. But I'm not leaving until tomorrow."

He dropped the towel and stood naked. His cock was flaccid but she saw a twitch and suspected, from all that had happened to her up until now, that 'goodbye' was probably going to last all night. She simply stood still, letting him make his choice of moves.

He chose to move towards her. She left her arms down as he leaned to her face and kissed her. After being fucked all last night by this man, it seemed she didn't have much say in the matter.

He took her hands and pulled them behind his back, bumping his chest to hers. The soft globes indented and he twisted his head sideways to maintain contact at lips and tits.

He let go of her hands and she moved her palms to his ass cheeks as his hands cupped her ass. They melted together into bed. He kneeled up to slip off her panties and they were both naked, save for her heels. He scrooched around to line up; his cock had responded admirably to her soft warm touch.

The first sexual union was slow, gentle, mutually respectful, and ultimately fulfilling. It wasn't a chore for her at all; it seemed an honor and a pleasure to serve his desires.

The second time was more adventurous. It was her turn to kiss his lips, his nipples, a tongue dip into his hairy bellybutton and kisses on his inner thighs, finger tickles in his knee pockets, and blowing warm breath on his scrotum and dick.

Her lips slid over the cock crown and suckled lightly on the knob. Another inch disappeared from view but not from contact: mouth on penis. Ned was fully erect and Clarissa's cunt was unsurprisingly wet. It was an inevitable time for a deeper connection.

She straddled his hips and placed him, dropping easily down his shaft, her cunt engulfing his manhood. His mouth tilted at one corner, not a smile, not a smirk, more of a look of grateful contentment as his cock nerves steeped in her musky membranes.

They wiggled and slid, long strokes, short thrusts, little pops. They could tell the other was enjoying it: moans and groans, murmurs and whimpers, tones rising higher, and then he spewed with a mighty howl and she cried her own pleasure before slumping full on his body, pressing her tits to his chest and her lips to his.

The third time was sidesaddle, releasing his last seminal reserves as dawn broke. Clarissa lay on her side in bed, captive in his arms, swooning through her last orgasm. Ned alighted the mattress and reached back to take her hand and drag her to the shower. They played in the warm water spray, recovering some energy, but nature only gives so much to anyone for so short a time and more sex was out of the question.

"Now, Mr Jackson. May I help you dress for your travels?"

"You may" was his reply.

She toweled him down: hair, body, and feet. She found his clothes, freshly laundered and folded, delivered by the staff unnoticed while they fucked.

She helped him slip on his boxers, one leg at a time, leaning forward, giving Ned a nice view of dangling boobs. The same downward view of boobs laying heavy on her chest was his visual delight when she helped him with his socks.

Pants, shirt, and shoes followed. He was ready to leave.

She felt a sudden sense of loss. He had been her recruiter, mentor, controller, discipliner when needed, and lover, all in one man. What would she face next without his succor?

"I will miss you, Mr Jackson" she whispered.

"Not so much, Ms Connors. The program will keep you involved with all kinds of men. It will be a smorgasbord of cock; you'll be too busy to miss me. But I may miss you; you are a fantastic fuck."

He turned her bare back to his chest and looked her over in the wall mirror. He reached up and hefted a boob, turning it in the light. He stared intently before giving her his parting advice.

"Yes, I agree. These tan lines have to go."

And with that, he kissed her neck goodbye and left her standing there, alone and anxious about the future.