Debbie is forcibly reencountered with the man who took her virginity two decades ago.
Every few months Debbie would pamper herself royally. She would take the entire day off and take the long drive to the Spa that had given her so much intimate pleasure. It was an extremely exclusive Spa, one that catered to a select clientele, "By Personal Referral Only" as the discrete sign on the door read. She would enter the subdued, plush lobby, check in with the receptionist, and soon be led to the Director's Office, a marvel of classy elegance. Jane, the director, would always greet Debbie with the affection that one reserves for the most valued client. As the two women sat in the social area of the office, the secretary would bring freshly brewed coffee and assorted tiny pastries to smooth the easy talk that served as a preamble to her stay there. Easy talk would slowly give way to more serious, still casual conversation about Debbie's recent life, her new discoveries about herself, and all other matters that would give Jane a better insight into Debbie's current needs and desires. Jane would make careful notations on Debbie's file, already thick with glossy pictures, notes, and comments from previous sessions. When all was done and said, Debbie would pay the day's exorbitant fee (cash only, please) and Jane would ring a tiny silver bell, and her secretary would guide Debbie to the preparation room.
Under the pleasant watchful eye of the secretary, Debbie would undress, neatly hanging her dress, folding her intimate apparel and placing it along with her shoes, watch, jewelry, and other personal belongings in the secure locker, don the thick cotton robe provided (with the Spa's elaborate logo richly monogrammed on the lapel), and she would be guided to the Spa area. There the secretary would take her leave, leaving Debbie with the attendants.
A flurry of attendants, young men and women, were ready to pamper Debbie. One would disrobe her, hanging the robe on a hook on the far wall. As Debbie would make her way, totally nude towards the table, all eyes would be on her, ready to start whenever she was. Lying down on the table, Debbie could feel soft music starting to play in the very distant background. The lights would be adjusted just right. The soft aroma of her favorite ambiance fragrance would start whiffing in. Even though Debbie could not see them, she knew that the various high-resolution video cameras were already taping her session from many angles at once.
She would lie down, make herself extremely comfortable, relax, sigh deeply, and prepare herself to let go completely for the rest of the day. The flurry of attendants would get to work immediately, all together, in that perfect choreography and beauty of coordination worthy of a majestic ballet. Her legs, armpits, and pubic hair would be shaved clean and gleaming smooth. One attendant (it no longer mattered if male or female) would pedicure the toes of her right foot, another, the left. One attendant would expertly manicure the fingers of the right hand, another, the left. One would massage the right thigh and calf, the other, the left. One attendant would massage her left arm, the other, the left. One attendant would massage her breasts, kneading them just perfectly, rolling her nipples with just the perfect combination of pressure and tension; another would be massaging her abdomen. In short, approximately ten men and women would be simultaneously attending to Debbie at the same time, each devoted to a particular task.
It had often been debated whether a woman in a spa would prefer the intimacy of a one-on-one relationship with her masseuse, but this particular spa offered a unique experience. It was committed to a complete-body treatment, giving each part of the body full and undivided attention, allowing the guest to wander off in her own thoughts, allowing her to release her body completely, feeling totally pampered. If Debbie wanted to converse with one or another attendant, the others would remain totally silent, and thus the conversation could be carried on in a very soft voice, adding to the unique character of the session.
When the manicure and pedicure were finished, and when the team leader felt that Debbie was ready, she would be turned over on her tummy so that her back could receive the very same attention. Hands would roam her entire body, oiling it along the way with warm, scented oil specially formulated for such purposes. Fingers would knead her tight muscles to relax them. Her joints and articulations would be loosened completely. Every single part of her body felt totally at ease. When Debbie had first come to this Spa, she had been very apprehensive at having fingers slide down her lovely ass, but in time, with patience and tremendous skill, the attendants had taught her to let herself go, and now those same fingers could slide with ease the entire length of her lovely behind, slipping comfortably with the aid of the oil.
A very slight tap on her butt, and Debbie would raise her pelvis just a bit. One of the attendants would slide a finger into her tight ass. Slowly, highly lubricated, with deliberate purpose the attendant's finger would make its way all the way inside Debbie. There were some women who had shown preference for a dildo, but after a few tries over a couple of sessions, Debbie had decided early on that she much preferred the intimacy and personal attention of having a live finger stimulate her ass, rolling freely about inside her, slowly allowing her to dilate herself. Debbie would relax completely, flat on the table, her legs gently parted while that particular attendant worked on her lovely ass from the inside, the others continuing their respective activities on all other parts of her body at once.
When the team leader felt Debbie was ready, she would be turned over on her back again, the finger still deep in her lovely ass. Her legs would be parted just slightly while the rest of her body continued experiencing its massage. One attendant would spray a generous amount of a highly effective desensitizer on her clitoris. This was the absolute only part of Debbie that was not touched, and the spray would serve to keep it from feeling anything. Such was the effectiveness of that particular spray that Debbie's clitoris would remain numb for hours. A few minutes later the attendant would dab just a touch of perfume to make sure it was not feeling a thing. If the clitoris were not totally numb, it would send the woman totally ballistic. The attendant verified that Debbie's diminutive clitoris was completely desensitized. After all, the Spa focused on liberating the entire body: sexuality was not the intent. Debbie would sigh. Besides, after twenty years' of marriage and several children, Debbie did not want sexual ecstasy. She merely wanted to be pampered. And she loved that final touch!
She knew what was next. It was always the highlight of the morning. One attendant would start to massage her face, starting at the temples and working its way down. This would keep Debbie focused on her own face, even though other attendants were just as busy as before on the other parts of her body. She would be slid down the table almost to the edge. Two attendants would take her legs, one each, and raise them up high and wide apart. One of the male attendants would penetrate her. It never ceased to marvel Debbie how extremely well endowed the male attendants were, each equipped with a very long penis of huge girth. He would penetrate her completely. Debbie, petite and slime as she was, could have easily been gratified by a man half that size. As it was, Debbie would feel complete filled to capacity and beyond, her labia spread and stretched almost past their natural limit by the enormous penises penetrating her at the Spa.
The male attendants were superbly trained and physically well disciplined. There would be no danger of premature ejaculations or other such embarrassments. With smooth, long, slow, and even strokes, he would enter her and exit, continuing on and on, without altering tempo or intensity. Debbie could relax completely, her body constantly massaged, her face gently caressed, a huge penis filling and emptying her without cease. Deep down there, Debbie could feel him getting ready. Without fuss or fanfare, he would ejaculate deep into her. Debbie could feel the copious ejaculate filling her to overflow. Debbie had often thought about this peculiarity and had come to the conclusion that among the requirements for male attendants, in addition to size was the amount of ejaculate they could produce!
When the first male had poured his passion into her, a second would follow suit. Sometimes he would resume vaginally, other times he might opt for anally. Debbie was never quite sure what sequence would be called for that particular session. But invariably, each male attendant would take his turn to fill her orifices to overflow.
Thus totally exhausted, Debbie would be helped off the table, robed loosely, and led, legs wobbling, to the social area. Lunch would be served to the dozen or so clients present that day. They would socialize among themselves, being served an exquisite lunch of light foods and good wine. Debbie could feel the ejaculate that had filled her oozing out in gobs from between her legs onto the robe, wetting the part that was in contact with her there. The clients, both men and women, had all had the same undivided treatment in the morning.
Debbie often wondered what had been done to the men for they too seemed just as drained as the women, and also seemed to be sitting on warm, wet puddles. After all, one of the clauses in the terms of the agreement of joining this very exclusive spa did say unequivocally, "Client grants absolute and unrestrained access by any and all attendants, male and/or female indiscriminately, to any and all parts of Client's body, external and/or external, at all times, in any manner as management may from time to time at its sole discretion so decide."
The service staff at lunch was different from the morning attendants. Debbie knew that during lunch Jane would be busy meeting in the large conference room with all the attendants from the different clients, reviewing the morning's video recordings, making careful notes and comments, planning the afternoon's sessions based on the morning's needs and reactions, filling each client's file with high-resolution images, filing the video recordings for another purpose.
Lunch would be usually followed by a rest period for the dozen or so clients present to take a short nap, read, or chat quietly. The afternoon would bring carefully supervised exercises for all the clients together, totally nude to encourage camaraderie, a trainer assigned to each client. It would be followed by a second, much more intense total-body massage, each client in his or her private room, as before, except that the afternoon attendants were rotated among the different clients. Debbie could speak from experience what would happen to the women in the afternoon. As in the morning, the male attendants would penetrate her, fill her to capacity with their ejaculate, and when everything was done and Debbie had recovered her energies, she would be douched (anal and vaginal) clean, bathed, fixed up, helped to dress, and sent off with a bottle of champagne and a card with her next appointment.
But today was different. Just as lunch was being finished, Jane approached Debbie. "Debbie, your birthday is coming up tomorrow. Would you accept a gift, courtesy of the house?"
Debbie looked up, very embarrassed that the other clients should know her birthday was just around the corner. It seemed odd that this would embarrass her, but not that she had just been taken by many men and that she was dripping ejaculates non-stop. She stammered, "Yes, Jane, that would be very nice. Thank you for thinking of me! What is the gift?"
Jane laughed, "Oh just something special. We did some research on you and found something special you might like. It's a surprise, of course!"
Everyone laughed, but Debbie was just a touch nervous. She knew that Jane had thick files on each client; that she kept photos and videos, and that nothing was private or secret when it came to Jane. Very prudently, Debbie realized it was better not to ask too much, repeating, ""Yes, Jane, that would be very nice."
