Mellisa was again on the beach. She liked to lay there when she had open time. The warmth and the breeze playing on her skin was delightful, and she could lay there for hours soaking it in, something her now bronze colored, full-body tan could attest to. Only beneath her bracelets and her collar was her skin white, though the bracelets were loose enough that she could move them and even that out a little.
She was thinking, as she usually did, about her situation and what was happening to her. She had been on the job for a couple weeks now. Men, individually or in pairs, twice in threesomes, had come to play with her. In every case, they had acted like she was not there. Oh, they had paid plenty of attention to her. She was the center of their attention, in a way. She had men discharge in her mouth, her vagina, and her ass. But she had not had anyone actually speak to her. The only exception was a couple weeks ago when Mr. Thantos and his assistant had used her. His assistant, Lisel, had not spoken a word, period, but he had spoken to Mellisa directly. Except for that, no one except for Ron had spoken to her. It had left her feeling like she was somehow invisible, or not really a person. Which she wasn't, really. She was a plaything. She had not known what to expect, but this was every bit as unsettling to her as being used sexually with such abandon.
At some point in her childhood, every girl hears the warning that "Men are only interested in one thing." That does not always prove to be true, but women often are suspicious that it might be. They might be more sexually accommodating than they would otherwise be, fearing he might leave her for someone who was. But few women have the kind of experience Melissa was having, when that message, the message that all men are interested in is sex, was so profoundly true.
In some ways it simplified things. Her job description could not be more clear. She knew what to do and she did not have to be concerned about having many decisions to make. There was a letting go that she found almost relaxing. She simply did whatever she was told to do. There were times when she did not even have that choice to make. When she was restrained, and there were a number of ways that had happened over the last few weeks, she did not have any choices to make at all, really. She still felt a panic, a claustrophobia of sorts, when she was restrained, but she found herself able to surrender, to let go, and then the experience changed to more of a safety experience. She was not sure how all that worked, but overall she was okay with her role as a sexual plaything, even if she did not feel like a real person much of the time. That was becoming a comfortable experience for her.
She heard the plane as it started to make its descent, her cue to get up and get ready to be presented to her next visitor. As she got up to walk back to the building, she saw a boat offshore, perhaps a hundred yards or so off. It was moving slowly, and there were fishing rods out, but a brief flash of light made it clear that someone was using binoculars to take in the view. Melissa was long past any sense of modesty, and it pleased her a little to be the subject of a stranger's interest. Watching Melissa walk from behind was generally a remarkable sight, but there might have been a little more movement in her ass as she walked back to the building. The constant vibrations on her clit from her "bells" probably added a little to the action as well. Suffice to say, whoever was watching got a show. And, she was ready to get to work when she arrived back inside.
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Melissa was in her usual present position, on her knees, knees wide apart, back erect, breasts thrust out, and hands behind her neck. Her bells, as she thought up them, were tugging slightly on her clit but were not ringing since she was still. Her breathing was shallow. Her ears were tuned for the slightest noise.
Every time there was a new executive come to visit the lagoon she was to wait in the day room in this position until he arrived and came to meet her. Sometimes Ron would accompany him, or them if there was more than one, and make introductions. Other times the executive would just walk in and see her there, eyes downcast and in the presentation position, making herself available. Usually he would examine her, touch her breasts, reach down and touch her nether lips, sometimes exploring her vagina, sometimes putting his fingers into her mouth. Sometimes all of these, and in that order. Often, usually in fact, shortly into the introduction, she would find his robe open or his shorts down and his penis in her mouth, getting things off to what was, for him, a good start. She would accept his member, allowing him as far down her throat as he cared to go, never moving her hands from where they were clasped behind her neck.
She had come to be so familiar with having a cock in her mouth that she did not think twice about accepting one. In fact, she found that it seemed natural to suckle a penis, and her mind, and sometimes her mouth, would go there unbidden. It just seemed like that was what needed to happen. Every time she met a new man, her eyes moved first to his groin to see what his penis looked like. She knew that it would soon find its way into her mouth, and her vagina, and probably her anus. She was curious what that would be like, and her first look at his tool gave her some idea.
Today, however, after hearing the soft pad of feet approaching the room and the expectancy that roused in her, she was surprised to see the feet that entered the room had nail polish on them. She was supposed to keep her eyes down, but she impulsively looked up to see a woman, not a man, approaching her. She looked down again, but not before taking in, like a snapshot, an image of the woman approaching her. The woman was quite attractive, white with tanned skin, dark hair, high cheekbones, full lips and piercing eyes. She had clearly defined curves that were accentuated by the light, belted robe she wore. She was a tall woman, taller than Melisa. And she exuded confidence, in contrast to Melissa's complete lack of it at the moment.
Melissa immediately felt particularly naked kneeling in front of this woman. Not only was the woman clothed in contrast to Melissa's nakedness, but she was looking at Melissa with those piercing eyes in a way that made it clear she was sizing her up. When men look at her, she can feel their eagerness. Their appreciation. Their lust.
Here and now she felt evaluated. This woman looked at her with reserve, distance, as though she was trying to decide something. She walked up to Melissa, who was again looking down, and then walked around her, looking at her from all angles. She touched her hair, stroking it lightly. Once she had walked all around Melissa, she stood before her and reached down to stroke her left breast. She rolled her stiff nipple between her finger and thumb, then tugged on the ring there until Melissa gasped slightly. She then reached up to her chin and slowly raised Melissa's head so that she was looking up into those eyes, eyes that seemed to look deep into her. Melissa was fully intimidated and more than a little scared.
It was probably a full minute before she spoke. It seemed like forever to Melissa.
"Very nice."
Melissa did not respond, not knowing what to say. "Thank you" did not make any sense. She wanted to look down again, but waited until this woman let go of her chin before moving. She felt more submissive than she ever had, and she was confused by all of this. She was not lesbian but she suddenly feared that being a sexual plaything might include expectations that she would have sex with women as well as men. This was something she never considered and she started to panic thinking that she would be expected to have sex with a woman. She could not do that. And, she had a hard time imagining this woman taking "no" for an answer if that was what was expected. Melisa's stomach was in knots and she kept her eyes down, waiting.
She did not have to wait for long before the woman stepped beside her and took one of her hands and drew her arm out before her and then lifted as a gesture for Melissa to stand. Melissa did stand, but kept her eyes averted, at least until the woman moved her hand to the side of her face and pulled her face close. Melissa did look up then, and then with hands on both sides of her face, she was drawn into a kiss.
The woman said nothing, but kissed her deeply. Melisa was shorter than the other woman by at least six inches, so kissing her was much like her experience of kissing a man that way, but it was a great deal more conflicted for her. When the kiss broke, Melisa stepped back.
"I'm sorry, I am not gay."
"So?"
"Well, I mean I'm not sexually attracted to women. No offense."
"So?"
"I . . . I can't have sex with you." Melissa'a voice was weak and timid.
"Oh?"
Melissa was frightened, stuck, unsure how to act. She could not think of anything to say, or do, so she did nothing.
The woman considered her for a minute, and then told her "Put your hands back where they were."
