The spa

You pass by the playrooms and emerge into the pool area. Most of it is used for normal holiday activities by people who prefer chlorine to seawater, but Diana leads you towards the section devoted to water bondage. A curly haired blonde is tied to a seesaw, a dominant couple dunking her repeatedly, holding her under the water each time until she's on the brink of drowning and only letting her up for a fraction of a second in between. In the pool, two black men are spit-roasting a brunette beneath the surface and two more girls are hanging upside down by their ankles, with diving weights attached to their wrists. They struggle to raise their heads out of the water, whilst another submissive applies a pair of vibrators to their genitals, their masters looking on from loungers. This is the only part of the resort you've seen so far where all the slaves in use are female, but your mistress doesn't stop, continuing on, through the double doors to the spa area.

It looks like a typical luxurious resort spa, with nothing to suggest it's part of a BDSM retreat, apart from the number of naked people visible in the public areas. Diana walks up to the desk and gives her name and room number to the attractive woman with fabulous skin working there. She smiles warmly while she looks up the reservation and then asks your girlfriend to confirm that you're there for an intimate couple's massage, with one masseur and one masseuse. Obviously there are a few more differences from a normal spa once you scratch the surface.

"Yes," Diana replies, "but my **** has picked up a few muscle strains. Could she get some deep tissue treatment, too?"

"Of course, miss. Just let the therapists know. They're ready for you now. You're in treatment room nine bee, right over there."

"Thank-you. Come along, Jenna!"

You trot after her to the small, square room, white walls illuminated gently by diffused lighting. The two massage beds are also white, as are the modesty screens and even the robes worn by the massage therapists who greet you. The only colour is a couple of fake ivy plants in the corners. Your mistress explains what she wants and takes off her bikini without bothering to go behind the screen or pick up the towel there. Obviously, modesty is not something available to you at all. She lies face down on the bed nearest the masseuse, leaving you to the man.

"The main problem is your shoulders, yes?" He has a vague accent you can't quite place. Not quite Spanish, but similar. He adjusts your left arm to the side and then digs his thumb into your muscle, hard. It's completely unexpected and you screech in pain, before you catch yourself.

"Shush, Jenna," your mistress admonishes. "Be brave. For me."

"Yes, mistress," you reply, panting a little. The pain is actually not too bad, now that you know it's coming and you think the massage will probably help in the long run, even if it causes some discomfort in the meantime.

The masseur continues to manipulate you with minimal consideration for your suffering, whilst your girlfriend gets a much more relaxing massage from the woman, a very pretty, tanned brunette who looks a little younger than you. She also starts at the shoulders, working her way down Diana's arms to her fingertips, then moving down her back to her buttocks. Your girlfriend's contented moans contrast with your grunts and gasps and although you're horizontal as promised, sleep is not remotely an option.

The masseuse gently parts Diana's legs, but only so she can massage her thighs. On the upstroke, you think her fingers are brushing your lover's sex, but it's subtle and brief. She moves on to her calves at the same time as your masseur finally leaves your poor shoulders alone. Unfortunately, he seems to feel the need to knead every bruise and welt you've suffered so far on this holiday with all his strength. Meanwhile, the masseuse spends plenty of time on Diana's feet and toes.

"Ready to turn over?"

The question finally comes and you're only too eager, but of course the decision belongs to your mistress. Fortunately, she agrees and you both roll onto your backs. The value of the massage becomes readily apparent by how easy you find it, the stiffness from before almost gone.

The therapists put pillows behind your heads and start work again, this time beginning at your ankles and working up. If your sealed vulva is a surprise, your man gives no sign, but then, he and his colleague are careful to barely touch the two of you there at all, skirting around the area to caress your bellies and then up around your breasts. You do notice that Diana is already wet, though.

After circling your breasts several times, they finally run their hands over your areolae, tweaking your nipples with their fingers and then sliding down to your sex and back. They repeat this until Diana is moaning in pleasure and you're struggling to control your arousal, then at some secret signal, they move back down to your loins and begin to stimulate you with the skill of much practice. Diana reaches out and grabs your hand and you turn your head to face her, looking into her eyes as the two of you are brought to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Just when you think you'll have **** but to climax, the therapists stop, returning to your legs and feet. Diana moans in frustration, but you're relieved. You don't know what effect an orgasm would have when you're glued up.

Soon, they start stimulating your breasts again. This time, the massage is more intense, paying a lot of attention to your nipples. When the masseur moves lower, one hand sneaks between your cheeks to play with your bottom, whilst the other strokes your labia. Diana's whimpers tell you she's experiencing the same.

"Hold up, I'm coming over there," she exclaims, suddenly. She swings her legs off the table and tries to stand, a little shakily. The masseuse helps her up and onto your table, facing the opposite way. You roll on your side so the two of you are face to crotch. Then the intimate massage starts again, with the addition of a pair of tongues.

Cumming together is always a nice surprise, rather than something to be taken for granted, but in this case, you think you have the expertise of the professionals to thank for the exquisite timing that has the volcano of pleasure erupt through both your bodies simultaneously. It quite takes your breath away and leaves you shuddering. The masseuse tucks a warm towel around the two of you in the aftermath and that's the last thing you remember before oblivion overtakes you.

When Diana shakes you gently awake, it's almost lunchtime.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. You look so peaceful there, but they're going to need the room back eventually and I'm hungry. How're the shoulders?"

They're surprisingly good and you say so. You don't say you're also hungry, but you are. Diana leans in for a smouldering kiss, then helps you up and it's only now that you notice how sticky you are and realize you must have come unstuck at the moment of climax. If all the juices trapped inside you squirted out, you're surprised you girlfriend didn't drown, but she looks clean and refreshed. She's obviously taken a shower while you were sleeping, although she doesn't offer you one.

"Come along," she says, handing you the bag again.

"Uh, shouldn't we clean the place up a bit?" You feel guilty about the mess and are pretty sure that out in the real world, you would get a thrashing for leaving facilities in this state, but Diana just shakes her head.

"This is how intimate couples' massages are supposed to end. They need to sanitize the place for the next couple, anyway. Now, before we eat, I need to talk to you. I have an idea for the Rulebook, but wanted to run it by you first, because you have more experience."