Newbie Naed in Swinging Agde 04

As the title says, this is a continuation piece. You can read it as a stand alone, or check out the previous pieces first.

This is faction. Agde is a real place. Yuuki is a real person. We really did spend three weeks in Agde last summer. The descriptions of Agde and of what happened there are as accurate as I can remember. Nothing is made up, except the descriptions of the people we became involved with.

This piece is some way into our holiday. My Japanese partner, who is now my wife, Yuuki, at this stage of our holiday is used to being naked, is getting more relaxed about the sexual side of Agde, and is keen to explore things further.

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There were two clubs, both of which we visited twice, following the principle that if you have enjoyed it the first time, you should always go back for more. The first of these was a bdsm club. The letters stand for bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism, which might seem misplaced here, but we decided to check it out as an open minded, loving couple. After all, what loving couple would not want to explore a little bondage and discipline?

The club had a black painted frontage with a board displaying photos of models secured on various types of interesting apparatus. The guy on the door was dressed in black, and held some kind of short whip or tawse. I am not yet an expert on whips. We had passed the club a few times when it was closed. It was right in one of the shopping malls, so we had noticed it on the way to get our meat for our barbeque, and we had passed it most evenings when going to the restaurants and bars.

As well as the enticing photos, there was a description of the deal or offer, the entry charge covering a buffet meal and two complimentary drinks. Black clothing was obligatory. It was not clear if wearing something else got you turned away, or disciplined. Talking to the guy in the evening, he did not tell us much more. We saw some couples going in, the women dressed to please, their black consisting more of leathers than soft fabrics, the men in black trousers and black shirts. They seemed like normal couples. We talked it over and decided to come back another night, dressed for the occasion.

As it happened, I had black trousers and a black shirt. I even had black shoes. People tell me I am too straight, but bringing formal clothes on holiday has its advantages. You get into the kind of club that makes it a requirement.

Yuuki had some black clothes as well, but one thing we did not have, so we checked around the boutiques and found something suitable. It was black, made of heavy duty leather, had a buckle at the back, and even had a tiny lock that prevented the buckle from being opened unless it was removed.

It fitted around Yuuki's neck perfectly. If we were going to play domination and submission, the collar was going to make it clear which one of us was the submissive. It even had a steel ring at the front, for attaching a leash, but we decided we did not need the leash. The collar conveyed the message on its own.

Yuuki's black, faux leather corset had been bought online and brought with us. She had not worn it out yet, but we decided that it was perfect for this club. The corset itself fitted under Yuuki's breasts, setting them off beautifully. It had metal buckles down the front, and steel studs defining the edges, and also set in vertical lines every few inches all around the body. That alone made it the obvious choice good for the bdsm club, but the shoulder straps sealed the deal.

The shoulder straps broke into two triangles at the front, inverted vees, that framed her breasts and were fixed to metal D-rings at the centre of the corset, and on either side. Each side of the vees had buckles, so that the length could be adjusted to suit the demands of the wearer's breasts.

This was the first time that Yuuki had worn it, and we really did need to adjust the buckles, letting them out to the last of the punched holes. It confirmed what I already knew. Yuuki's breasts were about as well developed as any woman with her slender frame would want, and were certainly as large as the designers of this corset had allowed for. Even on the last of the punched holes, the straps were tight, and made her breasts swell even more, the skin taut, but with her milk white breast flesh, wide brown areoles and unusually long nipple stubs, caged in the stiff, black leather, the corset was the perfect choice for the club that we were heading to.

Lower on Yuuki's body, the corset's leather suspender straps secured wide mesh, black fishnet stockings that patterned her legs with diamonds of pure white flesh from thigh to toe. From the stocking tops to the lower edge of the corset, her upper thighs, her buttocks, and her smooth hair free, pubic mound, were bare and exposed. A pair of black four inch heels set off her sex on legs, bdsm look to absolute perfection.

Walking to the club, Yuuki wore a lightweight, black leather jacket. It covered her bare breasts, but left her hairless pubis framed by the leather corset, the suspenders and the stocking tops. This was ten days or so into our holiday and by then we were both more than comfortable with the looks that Yuuki received. Our route took us past several bars and restaurants, including one walkway only four feet wide, with al fresco bars on either side, and people sitting just inches from us as we passed by.

The dress code for the warm, sultry Mediterranean evenings in Agde was pretty open, but the way that Yuuki was dressed was now at the further end of the exposure spectrum. Around half of the women at this naturist resort wore normal summer-wear in the evening, dresses, tops, shorts or skirts, that you could see at any resort in any country. The other half ranged from something slightly see through, or with a high side split, to the seriously erotic and revealing.

At a guess, maybe only one in four women actually bared their breasts or wore tops that were sufficiently translucent for their breasts to be displayed. Fewer still bared their pussies. There were plenty of short skirts, or pussy skimming dresses, and maybe quite a few of the pussies underneath were bare, but they were not blatantly displayed the way that Yuuki's was. Less than one in twenty of the women there revealed that much, which meant they got attention.

If anything, we both enjoyed the looks that Yuuki received. For Yuuki, it seems to have reached the stage of exhibitionism, impure and simple, but I suspect that she was also taking a perverse delight in so blatantly breaking the taboo against any form of nakedness that she had grown up with in Japan. Being one of the few women to walk around with her pink lipped cunt so openly displayed, when most women were dressed more modestly, seemed to give her a real thrill. I liked it too.

For me, there was an added pleasure in knowing that Yuuki was giving off some serious, sexual signals. Her naked butt and pubis were not just an open invitation to look. They also implied that she liked to fuck, that she was good to fuck, and that she might even be available to fuck. The fact that we were together meant that everyone knew that this cunt was mine to fuck, which made me feel pretty good. Of course I love her too, but that was private, just between ourselves.

As well, if other guys liked what they saw, that was fine by me. If they fancied some Japanese pussy, that was fine as well. If you let the woman you love dress like a fuck toy, then that is what you have to expect. I knew that Yuuki's pubic display was more a tease than an intention to allow anyone else to fuck her, which left me totally relaxed about showing off her cunt to anyone who turned their head to look.

Once inside the bdsm club entrance, Yuuki removed her jacket and left it in the cloakroom. As we went on through, the people we passed looked at her with interest. Yuuki was the only non-European in the club, hers was the only complexion that was pure white, at five three, she was the most diminutive woman there, and while the other women were certainly wearing interesting black leather outfits of different kinds, Yuuki was the only woman there with her breasts, pussy, and buttocks all exposed.

We were guided to the bar on the right, where the interior was tudor style black timber beams defining the celing and the walls, with burgundy painted panelling between the beams, mahogany tables and chairs, bench seating around the walls, burgundy vinyl cushions, and low level lighting from burgundy fittings.

The music was soft classical and choral chanting creating an atmosphere of refined decadence. It was smaller inside than we had expected, and more intimate, with just two rooms for relaxing over a drink or food. There were perhaps eight other couples by or near the bar, all dressed in black, the men more formal, the women more revealing. We collected our complimentary drinks, asked for the buffet, and were guided to the adjacent room.

The second room was similarly furnished. The buffet was set out in one corner, looking a little sad, our only disappointment of the evening. A limited selection of cold meats, salads, and sliced baguette, with finger slices of gateaux and fruit to follow, was due to serve as our evening meal. Clearly, bdsm is not just about sexual hunger, and should not be practiced when replete.

Once we had served ourselves to enough to take the edge off, we sat on one of the burgundy bench seats to eat and take in the atmosphere. To our left was another couple, the tanned, blonde woman in a basque that covered her breasts, wearing sheer black stockings, but with a leather thong. She had a black leather collar, with a leash clipped to the steel ring at the front, and dangling between her legs, but available for use. I wondered what it would have been like to have walked Yuuki to the club on a leash, but without her jacket, and maybe with her wrists secured behind her back. The BDSM theme was definitely getting to me. Next time, I thought.

To our right, a guy was sitting with his partner kneeling on the floor beside him. She was a brunette in her late thirties, with an off the shoulder bob cut, her complexion without a hint of tan, as if they had recently arrived. She had a solid steel collar that looked decidedly heavier than the leather collar Yuuki was wearing, and a black leather, below the bust, corset.

What else she might or might not have been wearing was obscured by the furniture between us, but her neat breasts were bare and both nipples were pierced, the steel balls of her barbells nestling on either side of stiffly erect nipple stubs. The steel piercings glinted in the dim light. They were sizeable, almost half the diameter of her nipple stubs. These were not play piercings. The guy, short black hair and also not yet tanned, was sipping white wine or champagne, his glass in his right hand, while his left was draped over his partner's shoulder, his finger and thumb casually playing with one of her pierced nipples.

Something about the couple made me think they might be German. Later, it would turn out that I was right. Something also made me wonder if sometime Yuuki might agree to having similar barbell piercings set through her nipple stubs. I felt that they would suit her, not just aesthetically, but they would be in keeping with her new found sexuality and the exhibitionist streak that seemed to run so deeply and with such strength.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the room, a slim guy in his fifties was being secured with ropes, slowly and carefully, before being suspended from a set of hooks placed in a black painted beam. His partner, or his wife, maybe a few years younger, watched from a seat nearby, apparently indulging him. Neither of us found the scene a turn on, but it gave a flavour of what the club was about, and confirmed that both men and women might be the submissive.

We took our time with the food. There was no reason to rush and we were getting aclimatised to the atmosphere. The same way that I was taking in the scene with the guy who was being suspended, and the two couples on either side of us as well, I was conscious that they were checking us out as well. Certainly, they were checking out Yuuki, perhaps wondering what games we liked to play, and whether they would have the chance to watch her being disciplined.

Eventually we decided to explore a little more. On the left of the entrance there had been a corridor with people entering and exiting the double doorway that led to it. We left the bar area and back went through to it. It soon became clear that this was where the real bdsm action was taking place. The bar was just for break out.

The corridor ran straight for maybe fifty or sixty feet. On the left, one after the other, were smallish rooms with door sized openings but no doors. Each room also had a large viewing windows with chains set in white painted concrete criss-crossing the opening rather than glass, allowing those in the corridor to watch the scenes inside as if in a castle prison cell.

The first room was empty, other than equipment, a wooden St Andrew's cross, with fastenings to secure the victim, and a pommel horse. The sound of a woman moaning drew us to the second room. A man in his thirties was watching his partner being played with by a well built guy in a knee length leather kilt.

The woman was naked. She was facing the window opening, holding the chains for support, her feet held apart by a spreader bar, three feet of black painted metal with ankle straps at either end, and they were far enough back from the window that she really did need to hold onto the chains or she would have fallen forwards. She was slender and tanned, with long black hair that fell straight towards the black tiled floor. Her clothes and shoes were piled neatly on a black painted wooden stool close by.

From the scene in the buffet room, where the guy was being suspended byt someone who was clearly experienced in the process, and this scene, where a couple were allowing the guy in the kilt to play do his thing with the female partner, I guessed that the club provided staff who performed services on request. The guy in the kilt certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

He was using a kind of flogger with multiple tails, alternating tracing the tails lightly down the woman's back and buttocks, with whipping her buttocks hard enough to make her cry out loud. Watching, you cannot tell just how hard, or how painful, it would be, but it looked pretty forceful, her tanned buttocks were turning red, and the times that she looked behind her see if he had finished suggested that it was more intense than she had bargained for.

The guy who was watching might have been in his thirties, but when the girl turned her head, it became clear that she was somewhat younger, maybe twenty five. Her immaculately manicured left hand, burgundy nail varnish matching the bdsm décor, had both an engagement ring and a wedding band. I wondered if this could be their honeymoon, and if she had known that she would be handed over to a professional for this kind of disciplining.

I was fondling Yuuki's naked buttocks as we watched, wondering what was going through her head. We had played with spanking back in London, but this was something more. I noticed that the girl was not just holding the chains, but was wearing leather wrist cuffs attached to the chains. She had fully committed herself to the session, and having allowed herself to be secured in position, she had no choice but to let the guy in the kilt do whatever he chose to do to her.

The kilt guy finally put down the flogger, and the girl noticeably relaxed, but prematurely. The kilt guy had not finished. Clearly he had the kind of professional pride in his work that meant that he would not give anything less than full value for whatever he was being paid. He picked up a two foot long tapered whip, the kind of stiff but flexible whip used by jockeys to persuade their mounts to race even faster.

He played with the girl. He spoke in French, telling her to take this whip between her teeth, and telling her that he would use it on her if she dropped it to the floor. Then he picked up the flogger once again. She only lasted one strike. The second time he used the flogger on her buttocks she let out a cry, and the whip clattered to the floor.

We stayed and watched the red lines appear on the girl's buttocks as the kilt guy used the stiffer whip hard and fast, smacking the vulnerable flesh, with long pauses in between each stroke. Each time he whipped her buttocks she shrieked., and in between each stroke, she was whimpering. At one point the kilt guy looked at her partner, who shook his head. If his partner was not asking the kilt guy to stop, then neither was he.

I wondered if I would have stopped it if it had been Yuuki secured to the chains, with her feet stretched wide, her corset, stockings and heels on the stool, her buttocks already glowing, and now being lined red as well. I wondered if Yuuki would have wanted him to stop. Later, she told me that she would have been ashamed if she had had to stop him.

The kilt guy ended the session, undoing the ankle straps and the wrist cuffs, and the girl turned to him, hugging him tightly, and kissing his neck, thanking her tormentor, whether for the punishment, or for it having ended. The psychology of bdsm is curious, and has its strange attractions. We moved on.

Further down in another room, a guy was secured over a leather padded bench, and a blonde dominatrix was doing something invasive between his buttocks. Seeing it, any sense of excitement that I had felt from watching the girl receive her punishment, dissipated. I had no desire to be secured to anything, or have anyone do painful or invasive things to me. Different strokes for different folks, and no strokes at all in my case.

In another room, a woman was in a kind of chair that had hoisted her to shoulder height, was strapped in with her legs apart, and was being teased with a multi strand whip. I liked the scene in principle, but not the participants. Both were overweight, which does nothing for me. In yet another room, a woman was secured, naked, with wrist cuffs fixed high against a wall, blindfolded, and just waiting for whatever. She was barefoot, on her tip-toes, unable to stand with her feet flat, her entire body taut, and she looked incredibly good.

After taking in the various scenes, we went back for more drinks and sat for a bit, enjoying the surprisingly tranquil atmosphere created by the soft music and soft lighting. Yuuki drew my attention to a couple opposite, the woman kneeling on the floor, her hands held palm upwards and flat, her partners wine glass balanced on them. Yuuki commented that she wished that she could do that. I suggested that all it took was practice.

We eventually took another walk down the corridor. The scenes had changed, but were similar in style. When we were ready we went back and sat again, with more drinks, but this time it seemed strange to me to come and participate only as voyeurs. I took Yuuki's glass from her, put it on a table, and told her to bend over one of the dark red, vinyl padded stools. She did as she was told.

Nothing prepared me for the intense pleasure in seeing Yuuki bent over that stool. Part of it was purely visual, the whiteness of her buttocks, the black, criss-cross ties of the corset that kept her back straight, her shoulder blades stretching the skin of her upper back, her breasts, still caged by the tight leather straps, erect nipples pointing to the floor, her legs, encased in the black diamonds of her stockings, with her heels pointing to the ceiling, the dark star of her anus exposed, the lips of her open cunt revealed.

Whilst the visual picture was amazing, just as much pleasure came from Yuuki's obedience in prostrating herself so willingly, in front of ten or twelve other people, submitting without demur, knowing what was to come. This was truly a woman I could love for ever. Next year, she would be able submit to the kilt guy, gripping the chains of the window opening, her nails painted burgundy, with engagement and wedding bands on her ring finger. Of that I was absolutely certain. I savoured the moment as she waited for me to start.