The beach

Diana chooses the stairs over the lift even though each step must be as painful for her sore behind as it is for you. You understand why though, as she tells you to wait on the first floor where most of the play rooms are and goes to have a glance at them, perhaps choosing one for the evening's entertainment. You now know that she knew where to find them from the sign in the lift on your way up in this changed-yet-again reality; her ability to catch on details like that after her first Rulebook experience is impressive. While you are waiting, two middle-aged men lead a crawling naked woman each on leashes. The first one does not appear to have noticed you at all but the second squeezes your breast and then slaps your sore rear as he passes you. You are not fully sure what the protocol for unsupervised subs may be, but it feels like the best idea to smile and take the attention unflinchingly. One of the women appears to be close in age to her Dominant, the other younger, but the bodies of both bear marks of intense play and you wonder how long have they been here for.

Diana soon returns and you descend the last flight of stairs. At the entrance to the beach you exchange your cards for towels. It is hot, but your nakedness makes you shiver; even though you can see dozens of naked people of both genders around and you have been published with public nudity before, the feeling of normality is yet to come - if it ever will. A naked woman’s hands are tied high above her head to a post holding one end of a beach volleyball net. She is being given a drink by a man, while another is standing behind her with a belt, clearly eager to continue what he was doing; her bottom and thighs are marked heavily already but you have definitely seen worse. Two other women are on all fours smashing their bottoms together connected by a massive double ended dildo to the amusement of a group standing around them. You expect to soak some sun in first (and have a more detailed look around) once you step on the sand, but Diana tells you to drop everything on a free sun chair. You are going for a swim straightaway.

The water is comfortably warm but cool enough to feel very good on your punished rear; a few strokes take you to the depth where you can still stand but your bare breasts are submerged. Diana takes your hand under the water and squeezes it. A few moments later she lets go and without saying anything you both start to swim deeper, raising your heads when an occasional low wave threatens to splash against you. Eventually you stop again and turn to float on your backs; your nipples poke in and out of the water. The sight excites you more than a sight of one's own body should excite any non-narcissist. Apart from your own boobs, very little else looks like it does not belong on any perfectly normal beach. Until a woman with a snorkel passes feet away from you, that is, as naked as you are but with her back and bottom lashed freshly and mercilessly. You wonder if she was sent into the salty water as extra punishment and she is just trying to make the best of it.

You turn back shore-ward eventually and climb out onto the sand, wet, dripping, and just a tiny bit cold now. Not that you would stay that way long under the sun. Diana sinks down into the sun chair after dropping the bag you left on it onto the sand. You look around and see another free one just behind you but your girlfriend-come-mistress cuts you off as you step towards it. “No, I don’t want to keep my feet in the sand, come here and get down”, she commands. Blushing, you walk over and stretch yourself on your back on the burning sand under her feet. She lowers them immediately, one bare heel on your nipple and another on your tummy. Then she fishes a paperback from the beach bag and leans back, leaving you to the heat of the sand and the sun, and feeling of air on your completely exposed privates and the humiliation of being reduced to a footrest.

You close your eyes and try to relax. At the very least she would have to let you put sunscreen on soon, she surely would not let you get burnt on the first day. Some minutes pass and the weight of Diana’s feet is starting to get uncomfortable when you feel sand kicked onto you by feet walking right next to you. “Mind if I share your mat for a moment?”, an unfamiliar voice says.