“When you said we were going to an ancient manor house for the weekend, I packed warm clothes – why didn’t you tell me the dress code is nudity?”

I glared at my boyfriend Sam. He didn’t reply, just gripped the steering wheel and stared at the motorway.

Stunned by his recent revelation that our break meant staying at some weird nudist place, and not knowing what to think, I looked out of the window trying to read the road signs as we hurtled past them.

Where were we? Where were we headed?  Hopefully, there’d be somewhere to stop so I could get out of the car…

What would I do if I got out of the car, though? How would I get home?

Why hadn’t he told me about our destination? But his behavior was nothing new – I was sick of Sam and his secrets.

He obviously had a motive but whatever it was, he was out of luck. No way was I swanning about unclothed in front of strangers.

Old buildings are always freezing, so I’d bought a cashmere cardigan, a kilt, leggings and boots. I intended to wear them, too. Either that, or stay in bed, hopefully under a 15 tog duvet, and catch up on some reading. Goodness knows what Sam had planned but I wasn’t having any part of it.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d go ballistic, Tina,” Sam replied, glancing in the mirror as a lorry whizzed by. “I mean look at the way you carried on at the party…”

“Trust you to bring that up!”

It seemed that Sam liked to make me look an idiot by omitting vital details; it was a recurring theme.

Last month, he’d said we were going to a seventies’ do. I’d dressed in flares, a halter-necked top and a glitter-wig only to find it was a seventieth birthday party!

The party split in two, the oldies in the living room, the youngsters in the kitchen.

My boss Nick was present; I don’t know why. But naturally, he found my gaffe hilarious. Trying his luck as usual, he undid the halter-neck, baring my breasts to everybody in the room. Word got out and some of the oldies, mainly the men, wandered in from the other room just as Nick bent his head and took a nipple in his mouth.

I wanted to smack him, tell him to sod off and act offended. But my body betrayed me. As he fondled and sucked my breasts, I squirmed with pleasure, made no protest when he slipped a hand between my thighs. A crowd formed around us and most of the over 70s urged us to go further. “Make the most of it, dear. You only live once,” they said.

I shoved Nick aside, refusing his suggestion that we strip naked and fuck in public. Nobody was more disappointed than Sam.

“You’re so uptight.” he’d snarled.

Truth be known, I regretted not going through with it, but performing an intimate act in front of strangers had to be my idea, not somebody else’s.

The following week was a nightmare…

Sam was scathing and critical about my prudish behavior; Nick, still trying it on, kept shoving his hand up my skirt, harassing me with lewd suggestions, some of which sounded interesting.

Most firms don’t allow sexual harassment in the workplace; Nick positively encouraged it. But then he owned the company and was worth a fortune, so I suppose he could make his own rules.

Tempted to give in, I resisted Nick’s advances because it didn’t seem right, not while Sam was around. I needed to get rid of him first. And Nick was my boss, after all. Business and pleasure don’t mix – everybody knows that. Except Nick, of course.

“Don’t you care that another man wanted to fuck me in front of an audience?” I’d yelled at Sam after the party. He didn’t answer, just swiped the screen of his laptop – God knows what he finds to do all day on that bloody gadget.

I was about to dump him when he suggested a weekend away. Thinking that maybe we just needed time alone together, time to talk and work things out, I’d agreed.

He’d been vague about the details though – I should have insisted on more info, studied the booking details.

But staying in a country house sounded great. I imagined log fires, red wine and country walks. Yet now it seemed I’d be hanging out in some sort of pervert’s paradise…

And we’d arrived…

Garlands was a large ivy-clad house set in several acres of woodland. Sam parked on the graveled forecourt and dragged our stuff out of the boot.

He rang the bell…

“Welcome to Garlands, I’m Maria. It’s lovely to see you.” She was gorgeous – heavy breasts with huge nipples, a tiny waist, endless legs and a mane of dark curly hair.

Yes, that’s right, she was standing on the doorstep naked!

I’ve had worst welcomes, but I couldn’t get my head around her standing there like that, neither could I stop staring …

We followed her inside – all faded Persian rugs and dark wood panelling, radiators set to tropical, and followed her up the stairs.

“I’ll leave you to strip,” she said as she showed us to a room. “Remember, clothing isn’t allowed downstairs in the bar or lounge.”

“It looks like the duvet for me then,” I muttered, staring at the king-sized bed. There was no duvet though, just an old-fashioned patchwork quilt. Still, it looked cosy enough…

Except the idea of hiding away with a book suddenly held little appeal.

After seeing Maria, I didn’t feel quite so shy. In fact, the thought of removing my clothes and strutting around naked excited me.

“I’m keeping my pearls on though,” I told Sam.

They were the real deal, a mega-long string I’d inherited from my Grandmother. Draped round my neck three times, the longer strand dipped and dangled into my cleavage. I loved the sensual feel of the pearls bouncing around my breasts and off my nipples as we walked down the stairs to the bar. Naked.

The bar was an ordinary sitting room decorated to look like a pub. Half a dozen blokes sat around nursing pints and floppy penises. Apart from Maria, I was the only woman in the room.

Maria, wearing only stilettoes, was collecting glasses from the tables when suddenly a man collided with her, emptying a pint of beer over her bare body.

“I’m sorry, Maria.” The man grinned. Maria, dripping with beer, grinned back.

“That’s okay Tim,” she said. “But you know the rules. If you spill a drink, you have to clean it up.”

“It’ll be my pleasure…”

Tim pulled her close and started licking the beer from her torso. Starting with her shoulders, his tongue snaked down her ivory skin, lapping up the booze as he went.

His tongue circled her nipples. He took one in his mouth causing Maria to cry out in pleasure. It reminded me of the episode with Nick at the seventies party. My body remembered it, too.

Floppy penises hardened; Maria moaned some more; my body screamed for attention as did Sam’s. His cock nudged my thigh leaving a wet, sticky trail. I moved away from him. Okay, so I was enjoying the show, wanted to come, but I hadn’t forgiven him for bringing me here under false pretenses.

“Oh,” Maria gasped. She pushed Tim to his knees and parted her legs. Needing no encouragement, Tim started lapping her labia, holding on to her hips as he did so.

Maria opened her legs wider, stabbing her clitoris against his tongue, writhing against his thick hair.

“Omigod…Tim…”

She threw back her head, long pre-Raphaelite locks trailing down her back, grazing her crack, as she came…

Slipping a hand between my thighs, I massaged my clit, inserted a couple of fingers, and masturbated to an orgasm. It didn’t take long: my climax echoed Maria’s.

When it was all over, Maria kissed Tim before disappearing through a door behind the bar. I followed.

“Help me,” Sam panted, fisting his cock.

“Do it yourself,” I snapped.

The door opened into a small bathroom; Maria was showering.

Dripping water, she stepped out of the tray, her eyes traveling up and down my body. “I love the pearls.”

“Thanks.” I flicked the beads across my breasts, no longer embarrassed by my nudity. “That was some performance – watching you made me climax…”

She smiled and grabbed a towel.

“Good – that means you’ll enjoy your initiation ceremony later.”

“Initiation ceremony?”

“Yes, didn’t Sam explain?”

“No, he didn’t.” Anger flared. Sam had omitted far more details about this weekend than he’d revealed. Goodness knows what other surprises he had for me. Trouble was, I was enjoying them.

I wasn’t about to tell him that, though.

Upstairs in our room, Sam was faffing about on his laptop. He shut it down when I stormed in.

“What’s all this about an initiation ceremony?” I yelled. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, Tina,” he admitted. “I was just going to lead you into it. I thought you’d go mental if you knew beforehand. But after your earlier performance, it’s obvious you’re a total slut, and up for anything.” He grinned at me, a horrid smarmy expression on his face. “Nick said as much; he reckoned…” He looked away, as if he’d said too much.

“What did Nick say? What’s he got to do with anything, anyway?” I shouted. “He’s my boss, not yours. Come to think of it, when did you two become so friendly? What’s going on?”

A ping from the laptop claimed his attention, his cue to clam up again.

I threw myself on the bed and star-fished, tried to calm down.

“What’s the story with this place? Why aren’t there any women here except Maria?”

“Once you’ve been initiated, other girls will turn up,” Sam said. “Meanwhile, Maria will supervise until you’re accepted as a member. It’s the house rule,” he added as if that explained everything.

“How do you know that? Have you been here before? And what am I being initiated into?”

“No, I haven’t been here before and you’re just being initiated into a private club – it’s nothing to worry about.”

“So why aren’t you being initiated into it?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“So, how does it work?”

Another ping from the laptop…

“Not now, Tina, give it a rest…”

At five to eight, we ventured downstairs. Overwhelmed by terror, excitement and lust, I wondered what was about to happen…

Maria greeted us in the bar. The resident blokes, if that’s who they were, watched.

“Hi.” She kissed my breasts and the men moved towards us, already sporting erections.

Taking my hand, she led me to an old snooker table.

“Lay down on your back,” she instructed, “with your arms against your sides. I’m going to secure you with this,” she said, holding up a reel of red ribbon.

She unwound a length and passed it over my elbows/waist, securing my arms to my sides. Under the table, back over my body, under the table, back over my body. Then she tied the ends with a huge red bow.

Done up like a fancy gift, the ribbon felt silky but tight. My nipples had corked, the result of Maria brushing against them. I lifted my head. The blokes were standing around the table. Watching. Waiting.

Maria produced a length of black silk and bound my eyes, securing my head to the table. I couldn’t see a thing. I sensed movement around me, though, guessed the guys were moving in on me…

Nothing happened. Then, I felt fingertips trailing down the sides of my body, smooth glossy nails tweaking my skin as Maria caressed my rib cage.

“I’m just turning you on, honey,” she whispered. “It gets everybody fired up a lot quicker.” She continued stroking my flesh, planting feathery kisses at the tops of my thighs and caressing me with her hair until I groaned with pleasure. The sound seemed to act as a signal; other fingers joined in – I wondered if Sam was there, too…

I felt different hands, soft fingertips, hard fingertips, the gentle grazing of rings… Two mouths were sucking my nipples, biting and licking, prodding and probing.

My legs were free. Bending my knees, I placed the soles of my feet firmly on the table. I tried to arch up, but the ribbon and silk restrained me.

Crying out for release, I tried to writhe. Maria pushed my legs apart. A sheathed cock entered… I gasped as it penetrated, clenched my internal muscles as it slid in and out, in and out, its master pumping until a shuddering orgasm swept over me…

Maria removed the silk and I stared into the eyes of the man responsible for giving me the most intense orgasm of my life.

Nick. My boss.

“You!”

“Are these real?” he asked.

“Of course, my breasts are real!”

“Not the breasts, the pearls.” He picked up the strand and massaged the beads into my breasts.

“Yes, they’re real.”

I turned my head. Where was Sam? Had he been watching? I couldn’t see him…

“Get off her Nick,” one of the blokes panted, wanking. “You’ve had your turn. Leave her to us…”

Reluctantly, Nick climbed off the table, but he was too late. The guy ejaculated, spraying my pearls with pearls of his own.

Maria replaced the blindfold and another bloke entered me…

Followed by another, and another…

“Where’s the girl who was afraid of being fucked in public?” Nick grinned as the last man collapsed in a spent heap. “You’re a great lay and a joy to watch. I knew you’d be fantastic at this. That’s why I wanted you here. Get on your knees,” he said ripping off the ribbon and silk. “I fancy a blow job.” Erect again, the men formed a circle…

Meanwhile, somebody had spilled a pint of beer over Maria. “You’d better lick me clean,” she laughed.

Upstairs, hours later, I found Sam asleep, laptop displaying a screen saver. I showered, removed my pearls and climbed into bed next to him.

Next morning, Sam was gone. And so were my pearls…

I raced downstairs. The smell of frying bacon wafted across the bar. Nick was tucking into a full English breakfast.

“Sam has run off with my pearls!” I shrieked. “They mean the world to me – I must have them back!”

Nick threw down his knife and fork.

“What? The bastard! – I should have known better – it was all too easy.”

“What are you on about? What was too easy? You’d better tell me what’s going on.” I climbed on to a stool next to him demanding answers.

Nick signaled for Maria to bring us some coffee.

“After I’d de-frocked at you at the seventies party, I knew I had to have you no matter what,” he said. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. And I knew you fancied me despite playing hard to get. Drunk, I blurted out my feelings to Sam. He said I could fuck you – for a price.”

“A price? Sam pimped me out like a whore?” I was bloody furious. I was also thrilled. “Who the hell does he think he is?

“I’m not some object that can just be bought and sold,” I ranted although after last night, the words sounded tame. I’d enjoyed every minute of my initiation, the multiple orgasms with strangers, hadn’t uttered a word of protest. I’d even considered jacking in my job and becoming a prostitute.

Nick shrugged. “Sam has huge gambling debts. That’s what he does online. He’s hooked on the poker sites. He said that if I paid off what he owed he’d bring you down here, that I could do what I liked with you. The thought excited the hell out of me, especially as you kept resisting me in the office.”

Although flattered and turned on by his words, I pretended I wasn’t.

“So where exactly is ‘here’?” I asked, deciding to ignore his motives for now. “Do you own this place?”

“Yes,” he said. “Garlands is the family home, has been for generations. My ancestors have always favored life without clothes – they were a racy lot. There’s always been a Members’ Only club here, a place for swinging and the like. I didn’t realize it until I inherited Garlands last year and I only found out about the initiation ceremony when I was going through some old journals. I saw no reason to ignore the tradition, especially as I could use it to my advantage with you. There hasn’t been an initiation since 1990,” he added.

“So, you got Sam to lure me down here by paying his debts…did he know about the initiation?”

“Yes, he did. I made it plain that he’d have to watch you being fucked whilst not being able to do so himself. He found the idea a real turn-on.”

“I bet he did!”

“I ran into Sam one night in the casino,” Nick went on. “He was in tears – he’d just lost all his savings. That’s when he told me about his gambling debts.”

“So, are they paid now?”

“Well, I paid off what he owed up to the end of last week,” Nick said. “But I reckon he’s run up more since then. He needs help….”

Despite everything, I felt sorry for Sam. How had I not noticed his problems? I was no longer angry with him for stealing my pearls – I just wanted them back.

I said as much to Nick. He drained his coffee.

. “I think I know where they are…”

Just then, a man collided with Maria, soaking her with orange juice. I watched as the cleaning up operation began…

Sam had taken the car, so I was reliant on Nick, not only to find my pearls, but to give me a lift back home.

Home seemed so far away, like another world, and how could I go back to my job, to working with Nick, after this? I didn’t even care about not wearing my cashmere cardigan, kilt or boots.

Behaving like an unpaid whore, I’d enjoyed every minute of the visit to Garlands – when had my change of heart happened? When Sam bought me here at Nick’s command, that’s when.

Meanwhile, with Maria clean again, and feeling exhausted. I went back to bed.

It was late in the afternoon when I woke up.

Downstairs, Nick was sitting in an armchair wearing my pearls.

“Where did you find them?”

“Alan had them.”

“Alan?”

“He runs the local betting shop.”

“The betting shop? I thought Sam would have taken them to a jeweler or a pawnbroker.”

“Sam doesn’t just gamble online, he visits the bookies, too. He used the pearls to finance a huge bet on the horses, some accumulator or something – I don’t understand how these things work. Alan accepted the pearls as payment instead of cash. His addiction is way out of control, Tina,” he added. “As I said before, he needs help.”

“Perhaps we should call the police, report him for stealing my pearls. He can’t run up gambling debts if he’s in jail.”

“Alan doesn’t want the police involved.”

“Why not?

“They might discover the call-girls that work from the shop’s basement. The girls love their work; they don’t want any aggro and neither does he. That’s why he handed over the pearls, despite losing out on the deal. Now,” Nick said, eyeing me. “It’s time you thanked me for finding your necklace.”

While we’d been talking, my nipples had peaked, and Nick’s cock had hardened. Being naked does away with removing clothing as foreplay – you can get on much quicker…

I stroked his cock, running my fingertips up and down its length, feeling the electricity fizzing between us. I’d felt it at the seventies party, just hadn’t acknowledged it. Nick was right. I’d fancied him for ages but hadn’t wanted to admit it.

I kept thinking about Sam, though. How much money did he owe? How much cash had Nick forked out?

I’d been stupid in not realizing that Sam had problems but then he was furtive, difficult to get close to…

“Will we ever see Sam again?”

“I don’t know.” I palmed Nick’s penis. “He’s disappeared. I’ve made some inquiries, but nobody knows where he is.” Nick shuddered as my grip tightened, my fingertips caressing his moist tip. “Do we have to talk about Sam?”

“No.” I felt sorry for him, but he was history. Nick was right – Sam needed professional help. But first he had to recognize his problem.

I’d text him later, let him know I understood, offer to find a support group or counselor – if that’s what he wanted.

Meanwhile, Nick was asking for something else…

I leaned over him, my breasts dangling in front of his tongue, removed my pearls from his neck and wound them round his cock a couple of times. The rest dangled between his legs. Then I eased myself on to his erection, slid right down until I felt the pearls beneath me.

“Christ!” Nick muttered. I wound my arms around his neck, crushed my nipples against his and kissed him. Rocking back and forth, I squeezed my muscles, pushed against the pearls, thoughts of climaxing on his cock adding to the sensations.

Nick’s held me firm as my gyrations increased. Reaching down behind me, I grabbed the loop of pearls and gently yanked on it, tightening the grip on his penis. Fleetingly, I thought of my Grandmother, wondered if she’d approve of the way I was using my inheritance.

As I bucked and writhed, the tiny marbles rubbed against my bud, heightening my pleasure and spurring Nick toward his. I forced them further up inside me, leaned back a bit as Nick tried to ram in deeper…

“I’m coming,” I panted. “Oh! I…” Out of control, I rode him harder and faster, grinding against the pearls until the only thing that mattered was reaching a climax. My yells bought Maria running from the kitchen.

She was just in time to witness Nick’s throaty grunt as he came, digging his nails into my buttocks, squeezing me against him.

“That was amazing,” he said.

“Fantastic,” Maria added.

“It was,” I panted. “No way can we work in the same office together, Nick, not after this. What are we going to do?”

“You’re right,” he said. “We’d never get any work done. We’d be fucking all day. How do you fancy working here instead?”

“Here? Doing what?”

I ran my fingers through the hairs on his chest, felt his cock stirring again inside me.

“What would I do?”

“If I’m going to keep this place running, it’ll have to pay for itself. At the moment, all the visitors are friends or personal friends of friends, but I want to bring in paying guests,” he said. “It’d mean management though, and a lot of discreet and skillful advertising. That’s where you’d come in. I’d show up at weekends – maybe we could put on a show for the guests…

“A show? What kind of a show?”

“Pole dancing, stripping…”

“Stripping?” The thought of stripping for an audience excited me. “But we’d already be naked.”

“Well, we could dress first, strip each other, then fuck in public …”

“Sounds great!” I said, conveniently forgetting that I’d just agreed to do what I’d refused to do at the 70s party.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with more ideas – Maria will help you plan some events…”

“It’ll be brilliant,” Maria said, as I began bouncing on the pearls again. “Here’s the first lesson – see that guy over there?” She indicated a bloke who’d just walked in. “I’m going to crash into him so that he spills his drink over me. The trick is making it look like it’s his fault…”

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