Melissa was walking down a long corridor. She was wearing a thin, loose fitting robe, tied with a sash. And slippers. And nothing else. She was looking down and was as nervous as she had ever been. Her examination at the nurse's office yesterday had been as thorough as any she might have imagined, but had given her a clean bill of health. Her lab results, including her STD results were back today, and she was called at her hotel to come back and report for duty as soon as possible. She came right over.
Her first surprise of the day had come as soon as she arrived. She had brought her suitcase, holding all she owned, actually, but was told that she wouldn't need it. She would not be wearing any clothes on the island that were not provided. Mostly she would be naked. She would be provided with some sort of covering when she was being transported in public, like the robe she was now wearing or some kind of lingerie. Or nothing at all. That was it for clothes. Her bag was taken and put in storage. She was asked to disrobe, and she was given the thin satin robe that she was wearing now. And a pair of slippers.
As she strode down the hall to her first assignment her breasts jiggled slightly, rubbing her nipples on the smooth cloth, making her nipples stiff and erect. She was going to be introduced to the higher-ups and begin her job as sexual plaything. That was all that she knew. She had signed a contract with Mr. Stewart, agreeing to the terms of employment that they had discussed. She had really taken this job. She was scared to death.
Her escort, a young man who'd introduced himself as Bob, led her through a series of hallways, talking all the while about how great a company this was and how he hoped that he could become an executive one day. Melissa barely heard a thing he said. She was jolted out of her anxious reverie only when he said "Right here." He stopped and opened an unmarked door, gesturing her inside. She walked in. "Good luck" was all he had said before he closed the door. From the outside.
She was in a fairly small room with another door on the right side wall, and a sort of window directly ahead. The window was open. It was like the kind in old houses where the glass slid up to open, but there was no glass. The part that slid up was solid wood. As was the sill. There was a half circle cut out of the part that slid up, and a similar shape cut out of the sill, so that when closed, there would be a sort of oval-shaped hole in the wall. The edges of the oval were upholstered in padded leather.
A head poked through the hole. It was a young man with curly blond hair.
"Hello. You must be Melissa. I'm Brad. Please take off your robe and reach through here."
After a pause, Melissa untied the robe. It fell open, and she felt like she was in a daze as she took it off. Brad looked on and once she was completely naked, remarked "They were right. You really are a beauty. Hurry up, we need to get ready before anyone arrives."
She placed the robe on a chair to her left, and came over to the window. She leaned down to put her head through. Brad took her hands and helped pull her through the window. There was a curtain that went from her left to her right in a semi-circle, creating a small enclosure into which she leaned. She was half in one room and half in the other, her waist resting on the padded sill. There were two ropes hanging from the high ceiling. Brad handed her one of these, and she used it to maintain her balance. He quickly put a bracelet on her left hand, and then one on her right. Each bracelet was leather, and clicked together with a snap. She could see that there was a keyhole in each bracelet. There was also a metal ring, and to this Brad clipped a snap ring from the end of each of the ropes, one to each bracelet. The bracelets were supple, not too tight, but appeared strong.
Brad went to the window. He positioned her waist so that the smallest part of it was on the sill, and then closed the window. It was quite snug, but it was not really uncomfortable, and she could breathe easily enough. She could not move an inch, however. She heard a click like a latch closing. Panic rose in her for a moment, and she questioned, for the hundredth time, what the hell she thought she was doing.
Brad stepped out of the curtained area, and in a moment she felt the ropes being pulled tighter, until she was slightly more upright than horizontal, arms above her head, and pulled slightly apart from each other.
He returned and said "We're nearly ready. They are going to arrive really soon. You look great, and I think you'll do great. It'll be a little while before you're on. I'm going to go and finish getting you ready."
He paused for a second, and then walked directly in front of her and gave her a kiss. A deep, and lasting kiss. He reached down and took her sensitive nipples between forefinger and thumb, squeezing and twisting each slightly while he kissed her. It was clear that preparations had aroused him, and if the truth be known, they had her some as well. As did his kiss. Her nipples had again hardened and stayed that way after he let go of them. He broke the kiss, looked at her for a moment, and then walked out of the curtained area again. She saw tables and chairs in the room beyond in the brief instant the curtain was pulled aside. She was left alone with her thoughts, which were racing.
She was on a ride that she could not stop easily. It was like going down a roller-coaster. You couldn't change your mind once you went over the top. She had gone over the top. She was unsure of what was going to happen, but she was sure that she could do little to stop it. At least not immediately. She had agreed to the four weeks notice, and even if she said no now, it would be a month before the ride was over. It was in her contract that she would be a sexual plaything, and that her willing participation was not even necessarily a part of that. If she didn't want to work out her four weeks, that was too bad. She understood that. People who had worked to earn the privilege of her services would not be denied them.
She felt someone touching her legs, startling her. She felt hands spreading them even more than they were. Her weight had been mostly on her feet and arms. Now she was resting more solidly on the sill, with little of her weight on her legs and feet at all. Her slippers were removed and she felt a bracelet being put on her right ankle and then on her left. She felt the snap, and had little doubt that they resembled the ones on her wrists. Something was clipped to the ankle bracelets, and while she did not try to move her legs, she was sure such an effort would be futile.
She had not thought much about the half of her in the other room, but now she became very aware of what that must look like. Anyone walking in the door that she had come in would be greeted with the sight of her bottom, legs spread, privates fully exposed. Her round, firm buttocks were spread. And anyone could easily walk through that door. It was not locked. It was not even marked. Someone could walk through by mistake, even. And she was as exposed as she could be. She could not see anyone in there. She could not even move. She was exposed, available. In a way that she had never even imagined. Again, panic rose in her.
Almost in response to that panic, she felt a slight stroking of her legs. It started down around her calves, and gently moved up her legs. She was startled at first, thinking that someone must have walked through the door just like she had imagined. Then she remembered Brad, and decided that it must have been him. She remembered that he had said that he was going to finish getting her ready, and decided that positioning her legs was only part of what he had meant.
The stroking moved up her legs, to the inside of her thighs. She began to feel some heat between her legs, and the fingers expertly sought that heat. Her nether lips were gently parted. The stroking moved to her slit, gently moving from the rear towards the front. The fingers brushed her clit, and she jerked, as though she had been shocked. The touch moved, slowly, back away from her clit and to her lips again, moving on towards her anus. She jerked again when that was touched, ever so lightly. She could not pull away, could not move more than a fraction of an inch. She could not avoid the fingers, nor could she seek them out. They would go where they wanted, and she had nothing to say or do about it. Her breathing was starting to come more rapidly, and she was getting warmer and warmer where the fingers breathed life into her sex. Her clitoris began to harden slightly, and she was starting to lubricate.
Then she heard voices in the room with her. Men were talking, joking, some laughter and the sound of chairs. The fingers continued to graze her, touching her lower belly, stroking the slick inside of her lips lightly before moving down her thighs. More voices, more men coming into the room, chairs moving, more stroking her legs, her ass cheeks, her anus grazed as the fingers moved on. She was terrified, but it was hard to focus on her fear with the stimulation she was receiving from the other room.
The curtain moved slightly with the stir of movement in the room. People were sitting down, and their discussions were becoming more hushed. The fingers traced the inside of her lips moving very slowly towards her clitoris. Her clit was brushed, and this time she strained to make the touch last. It did not.
The meeting opened with a male voice saying something about company profits being up in several sectors, especially in Europe, after the recent implementation of some program and policy changes, but Melissa did not follow it all. First of all, she didn't know all of what was referred to or what it meant. Secondly, she was pretty distracted. The fingers were playing her like a musical instrument, and she found in herself a crescendo building, slowly, almost imperceptibly, but increasingly demanding. In fact, she was getting very aroused and not thinking clearly about anything.
Then the voice introduced a Bryce Stewart, and she recognized Mr. Stewart's voice as he spoke.
"I've had several people ask me about what I was going to do about replacing Donna. As you know, that is not such an easy task, both because she was an exceptional person and because it is not a job that just anyone would be, ah, qualified to do. And there is little value in finding someone who would not do it well."
The fingers traced around her buttocks, down her thighs, just inside the lips of her vagina.