Laguna Linda
Arrival
I approach the resort that my friend Nancy told me she had worked at near Lamington National Park -- one and a half hours from my home in Brisbane. The surroundings are breathtaking -- hills, green valleys, a lovely lake. The name makes sense now -- Laguna Linda means beautiful lagoon in Spanish. I wonder what the Spanish connection is. The driveway winds up a hill and I reach a gate with an attendant.
"May I help you?" the attendant asks.
"I'm here for an interview with uh, let's see, a Miss Wendy. I'm Diana Page."
"One moment please." She clicks on her keyboard and mouse. "Yes, you are expected. Please drive into entrance B and park in a visitor space underground. Stay in your car, and someone will come for you." She opens the gate.
I park the car and nervously check my makeup. A tall woman approaches the car and I get out and lock the car. "Hello, Diana, I'm Miss Janet. Please follow me."
We walk to a lift. She swipes her security card and we get in and ride up, exiting into a grand executive office. She takes me to the receptionist and walks away.
"Hello, Diana, pleased to meet you. I'm Miss Susan." I notice that she's wearing the same collar as Miss Janet -- a thin leather band with a large red stone in the front. "Please have a seat."
She walks over and hands me a clipboard with an application form and a pen. "Please fill this out, front and back. Read page two carefully before signing. It's a non-disclosure agreement."
I complete the front page with basic identifying information, then read, complete and sign the back page. I am promising not to disclose anything that I learn about Laguna Linda, ever, to anybody. No wonder Nancy was always evasive when I asked her about this place.
I wave to Miss Susan, indicating that I am done. She comes and looks it over, smiles and says, "Miss Wendy won't be long." I sit looking around the room. It has many tasteful paintings of nude women, and a small reclining nude sculpture on the table in front of me.
In a few minutes, a striking woman in her forties walks up and says, "Hello, I'm Miss Wendy. It's so nice to meet you, Diana. Please come with me."
Her aura overwhelms me until I can blurt, "Thank you."
I follow into her spacious office and she closes the door. It's outfitted with plush leather furniture, including a large sofa. I see more paintings of nudes in poses more erotic than those outside, one suggesting the moment of orgasm. I sit at her desk.
"Nancy Wilson was one of our Gold Servants. I was sorry to lose her, but she served us well for several years until she decided to move on. I understand she's marrying a lovely woman. I'm very happy for her."
"She said she liked working here. Yes, I've met her fiancée, and she's quite something."
"How much did she tell you about Laguna Linda?"
"She said it's a luxury resort for women." Miss Wendy waits for me to continue. "She said that she provided personal services for the guests, but she didn't elaborate."
"That's her -- always discreet. All of our guests are women and all of our staff are women. The only men we ever have on-site are specialist outside contractors if a woman is not available with the required skill, generally mechanical engineers. Did you get any sense from her of what kind of services we provide?"
"I asked her a few times, but she always danced around the answer. I kind of suspected that they might be sexual in nature."
"If that were true, how would you feel about that?"
"I don't know."
"Well, since you have signed the NDA, I'll tell you that part of what we provide includes sexual services. Would that be a problem for you?"
Since I had had an idea about that, I had already thought it over and decided that I was fine with it. "No, I'm okay with it."
"Good. I need to ask you some questions. How old were you when you had your first sexual experience with someone?"
"Eighteen, with a guy from school."
"How often did you fuck?"
I'm a bit taken aback by her directness, but I answer, "Most weekends."
"And when did you have your first sex with a girl?"
"The next year, at nineteen."
"And how often with her?"
"Every weekend, and sometimes during the week."
"Just those two, or others?"
"I played with a few other girls after the first one, but mainly those two until I had a serious girlfriend at twenty-one."
"How long were you with her?"
I choke down tears. "Um, almost two years, until she died in a car accident two months ago."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." I start sobbing. She hands me tissues and waits until I have settled down.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, Diana, no need to be sorry," she says tenderly. "You obviously loved her very much, and it's been so recent. Do you need more time before I go on?"
I sniff and blow my nose. "No, I'm all right."
"Okay then, how many times a day do you masturbate?"
"Uh, well, at least twice, morning and night and more if I'm alone during the day."
I've been taken aback at the intimacy of her questions, but I don't hesitate to answer. She's disarmingly comforting. I also find that I'm getting a little excited by them.
She asks about what practices I have done, especially with women. I say the usual -- kissing, touching, licking pussy and ass.
Miss Wendy takes a deep breath. "Now for my most important question: do you enjoy pleasing a woman?"
"Yes, yes I do, very much."
"Good. That's why we're here." She writes notes for a minute.
"Do you have any romantic connections now?"
"No."
"What family do you have?"
