Chastity Resort: a Gentle Turn

CFNM is a reminder to them. Seeing naked bodies is an ordinary, common thing: all women taking a shower are naked, there is nothing extraordinary about that.

But a woman wearing a piece of clothing on purpose to emphasize asymmetry, compared to her man who is naked instead, flaunts an extraordinary and exciting form of power...

And that was Lesson One."

Chapter 8 - The First Lesson: Objects Are Not Evil.

Milka also summoned Cam and Chris to the stage. Cam had shorter hair than her twin sister but was otherwise identical. Chris was muscular and slick with sweat. He had probably worked out that morning before attending class.

Between his ample muscular thighs, we all saw a striking element, which I had not noticed before because he was kneeling.

With dark straps, his wife had secured an ivory-colored strapon over his cage. It looked like an elephant's tusk: conical and curved, but with a rounded, anatomically shaped knob at the end.

To get on stage, Chris had to walk erect: the cage held his cock down, but the straps held the ivory dildo erect.

For the first time, Milka hinted at brief applause. "There are no evil objects, there are only people who make evil use of objects. Objects, per se, are neutral. A kitchen knife can cause fatal injuries, but no one cares about that. In contrast, a strapon immediately invokes gay humiliation scenarios, but it is not necessary. Camilla dear, would you like to explain if this strapon has a use outside of marriage?"

Cam smiled. She placed her small hand on the base of the dildo and stroked it confidently. "Strapons for anal use have a thinner tip, and especially a much narrower base, almost like a club (or bowling pin). This has been 'our' toy since the beginning of our relationship, I adore the stretching sensation the wide base imposes on my labia when Chris pushes in.

Moreover, the position of the bodies reminds us both of the position of penetrative love. He can kiss me on the mouth and whisper dirty words in my ear and look into my eyes with lust and desperation. When we practice facesitting these elements are missing for me. Also... (and here Cam did not hold back a mischievous grin) Chris says that all the senses of his body transmit to his brain the sensation of fucking: his hips, nose, eyes, knees, everything! The only dystonic element is the absence of moist heat on the skin of the hard cock rubbing against the narrow walls of my pussy--hehehe, his brain doesn't perceive that signal, because all that comes from down there is discouraging news about hard iron bars, neither moist nor hot."

Chris nodded even though no one had asked him, and said, "I would do anything for you, my Lady."

Milka took the opportunity to give him a friendly pat on his exposed buttock. " Hush, it is appropriate for caged men to speak only when questioned. Without speaking, will you turn your back to the class, and bend slightly forward, you Cam's husband?"

Smiling, Chris turned slowly and leaned forward, spreading his legs apart to keep his balance.

Between his dark bare buttocks, a large crystal cut like a diamond sparkled, emanating yellow and golden glows.

"Camilla dear, won't you please explain to the class what we have here in our Show and Tell?"

"Right away, Madam Teacher. Among the messages we received after booking, one recommended several purchases (absolutely optional) including a thin anal plug for prostate massage.

I do not know if the other women purchased it, but the two of us had been using it for years. I know that some males fear that anything approaching their precious and sacred rosebud is tantamount to admitting that they are 100% gay, but in our experience as a couple, Chris (who is straight) has always enjoyed receiving a finger of mine inside him, both during the first tentative blowjobs and during increasingly intense practices.

The problem, if you can call it that, is that I have very short arms and he is very tall. If he kisses my mouth, my hand does not reach to stimulate his rosebud. So, we started with anal plugs. At first timidly, then more and more often. Today he's wearing a particularly big one. Be sure to use lots of lubricant for the first few times."

Milka concluded with a brief recap. "Thank you, Camilla and Camilla's husband. Great presentation.

First lesson: use lots of lube.

But most importantly, Lesson One: there is nothing more exciting than getting fucked with a strapon, his senses will drive him crazy because smells, noises, and muscle movements trigger his memories, but the cock remains inert! Hehehe!"

All the keyholders laughed heartily. Not all of them had purchased a strapon, but I guess after Camilla's presentation, they had promptly changed their minds.

Maybe Geena, too? She said nothing but smiled blissfully. A suspicious fact.

Chapter 9 - The First Lesson: The Equatorial Forest.

Milka took a long glance at my wife, and Pam (Spaniard Pedro's wife), then called to the stage a woman I had not noticed, who had the seat in the last row behind me.

"May I invite you to the stage... Danai Schwartzmuller, accompanied by Erich? Do I pronounce the name right?"

"My husband's German family name is correct, and it means 'Black Mill' for grinding wheat. The name Danai is typical Zimbabwean and means "Love." Not to be confused with a horrendous Greek myth, of a girl made pregnant by Zeus in the form of a golden shower--and it is not a metaphor: you see many paintings with a shower of gold coins. Something I find disgusting."

"Okay."

Erich was a German with red hair and freckle-filled pale skin; at least six feet tall and broad-shouldered, but with his wrists shackled behind his back with stiff metal handcuffs. His wife Danai was shorter than him, but with a very voluminous afro hairstyle, she looked almost as tall as he was. She wore only a shiny light purple silk top that highlighted her very black skin and showed a veritable forest of unkempt curls between her legs. The silk was so thin, that we could distinctly see the large erect nipples and two large piercings protruding from beneath the purple silk.

Milka explained, "the Resort leaves women free to choose what kind of cut to reserve for their pubic hair: decades of feminism have convinced many women that shaving is a masculinist and patriarchal choice, suitable only for submissive women, like underage daughters of a master father. But if you look around... Consider that the course is also about learning from fellow students: as a Chinese (or Confucian?) proverb says, you learn a quarter from yourself, a quarter from the teacher, a quarter from the book, and a quarter from your colleagues.

As I was saying, we are all Keyholder women, yet we are almost all shaved or trimmed, and the only slightly long tuft is Geena's, but it is light blond, almost invisible, and very tight, clearly the subject of a partial shave that echoes her blond mane, shaved on one of her two temples.

But you, Danai, sorry to point this out, you should also think about facilitating your man. With all that hair, so curly and thick, your sensitivity is markedly diminished. Besides, he struggles much more and is constantly at risk of swallowing loose hairs (also due to the effect of his tongue and teeth) and invoking safewords to keep from choking... am I wrong?"

Erich nodded vigorously. Milka feigned indifference to the male's unsolicited nod and waited for a response from Danai. She crossed her arms (but without covering the view of her magnificent pierced nipples) and with a pouty face huffed, "I admit that's true... but I want him to choke, like the colonialist pig he is."

Milka was not at all pleased. "Darling, either our Erich is a criminal, in which case you must report him to the police, or he is just an honest man of German descent, which does not make him guilty of all the crimes committed in Africa by ancestors he does not even know. This course is not based on revenge, but on trust. Now I will say an unexpected word: it is based on Love. Yes just your name, Danai: Love.

You love Erich, he loves you: you have bound yourselves in a monogamous relationship based on mutual fidelity, I know because I read your reservation. Now you want me to believe that you want to base the only relationship of your life on revenge? I believe that you want to love Erich, as he loves you so much that he would wear a cage on his cock and give up his orgasms for you."

Danai was still sullen but was beginning to see the teacher's point.

"Tell me the thing you haven't told me yet, dear... tell me the real reason for that forest of curly hair, before I tell you because I guessed it even though you didn't write it down."

"But how did you know? Are you a witch perhaps?" Danai took a step back to move away, slamming into Erich who was handcuffed and could not support her.

"No, no woman is a witch, but many women can observe. And I've been teaching these classes for many years and by now I can guess most of the time why there is a shortage of wood-clearings... do I say that or do you?"

"Grunt. I have two labia that are horrible to look at. They are long, droopy, and disgusting. The hairs help me hide them."

Milka turned to her husband and said, "See? I won this bet, too. And you remember what we bet, hubby, hehehe..."

Then she became serious again and hugged Danai.

"Darling, every human body is beautiful. Erich has held your labia in his mouth for hours, do you think he doesn't know how long they are? He does, and he loves you for it. Sure, pornography (an industrial product created largely by men for men) tries to make us believe that the perfect woman has a tiny, symmetrical pussy as you see in Japanese cartoons.

But this is not the truth.

Each of us has a different pussy, there are books on purpose, paintings, and works of art. Your man loves her just the way she is. And I can bet (and I always win) that if you freely choose to clear at least part of your forest, the men in this class will show you all their support.

Danai nodded without speaking. She thought the teacher was finished, but it was too soon.

Milka scolded them both because Erich's pale skin showed signs of past sunburn.

"What do you want to achieve? For everyone to call him Erik the Red? The skin must not suffer. The Resort advises against all practices that hurt the skin. That includes whipping and spanking done with objects, such as paddles.

Because it says, the skin is the main contact between us and the outside world. If the skin is sore, the sensations will be polluted by pain. I have nothing against those who practice those extreme practices, but since you are a class of beginners, I have a duty to warn you that some techniques can be very painful.

First of all, remember that everything is fake in movies, just as it is in photographs. You may have seen dozens of times backs and butts furrowed by red bloody lashes, but that is not blood, it is grape juice.

I can understand that it might seem like a stimulating fantasy at first glance. But consider how long it will take for wounds like that to heal. If an actor plays the part of a prisoner on a pirate ship, the time goes by quickly, but if you are really in a real resort for two weeks, and you get bruises that will heal in twenty days, you have basically ruined your vacation.

So, rule number one, no sunburn: we have enough bottles of sunscreen to protect a regiment of albinos from the sun.

But since sometimes protection is not enough, I strongly suggest that you order Erich to stay under the umbrella at all times, with a T-shirt and even a hat.

If he does not have a sunburned back, he will be able to lie under your pussy much longer--you will see that you will thank me in the end. Same for pale Vincent, and if I may say so, in sisterly spirit, for Pam and Cam as well: it would be against resort policy to allow a guest to ruin their vacation with a sunburn out of distraction.

Therefore, I feel like proposing two teams, for lunch: Pedro and Danai, Virginia and Chris, will go sunbathing at the most exposed spot on the terrace, while Pam and Erich, and Cam and Vincenzo, will stay in the shade of the marquee, where there are deck chairs. This does not mean that you can betray your Keyholder, males! But it may mean that your Keyholder may grant the license to tease the woman accompanying you. Tease is not cheating--tease is an art form. The question is addressed only to the women: Do all agree?

The four Keyholders nodded. The men's opinion was not required at all.

"That leaves Geena and Marie. If you agree, for lunch I would ask you to have lunch with the other Keyholder's husband. Just lunch: civil conversation, maybe a caress, maybe a quick touch with an elbow or nipple. I don't know. You two are two women free to do what you want. Do you agree?"

They both answered yes. I was quite astonished.

Milka concluded, "Take care, Geena, Ulrich is very willing, but I have to ask you not to let him be on his knees."

"Of course! Conversation, caress, stroking, light touch, no knees, all understood!"

Chapter 10 -- Virginia Dominatrix.

"Now, on the other hand, young lady--would you mind coming on stage?"

From the opposite side of the room stood a very young girl, who walked with difficulty toward the stage. The difficulty was cumbersome platform-heeled boots, high up to mid-thigh; on her legs, she wore very wide fish stockings that reached almost to her navel pierced above her shaved pussy (framed by a wide crotchless opening, sewn in the shape of a semicircle) and a black leather jacket that could have belonged to Freddie Mercury. On her head was a black leather beret with a silver chain above the visor (similar to that of American policemen), and in her hand was a (useless, just for the figure) riding crop. She grinned nervously and a couple of times risked tripping.

Teacher Milka sighed, holding out her hand to help her onto the stage and approach the microphone.

"We welcome Virginia, who comes along with her partner Vincenzo from the Italian famous city of Verona, the hometown also of Romeo and Juliet.

And with the occasion, the incident of Romeo and Juliet teaches us a great First Lesson: Be Careful What You Drink! (hilarity in the audience).

Virginia is twenty-four years old, I can tell you, and you saw that she walked with such difficulty to reach our stage. Tell me, dear, what stands in your way?

"These huge boots, damn it, these platforms are obnoxious!"

"Are you feeling frustrated?"

"Yes. I'm so angry. The uniform is perfect and makes me feel like a real Dominatrix, but the heels make me desperate!"

"Would you take advice from a woman who has already made the same mistake as you?"

"Of course!"

"Darling, domination cannot be acting out. It cannot be bound to a stage costume. Let's separate the act from spontaneity.

If a gesture is spontaneous, you can do it every day without effort: and it will be part of your lifestyle, like for Marie to walk around the house naked.

If, on the other hand, a gesture is acted out, it involves effort on your part, a commitment. Real life is already full of obstacles and commitments; it is not appropriate for us to add an action to it. May I ask how long have you two been practicing this kind of domination, with the costume and all?"

"Three months -- since our first anniversary together."

"For three months, you feel like you can hold on. But you're stressed, you're frustrated. I made the same mistake with my husband when we got married, I was imitating the professional women you see in porn movies. But that's acting: porn actresses keep their costumes for a few hours.

Similar statement about paid dominatrixes. I got lucky. I met a woman who was my mentor, and who convinced me that domination starts from the heart, not from the clothes.

You are a strong, confident girl. I know it, I read all the answers you sent to the questionnaire. You don't need to play a part by wearing a costume. Do you agree with me?"

"I more than agree! I am overjoyed!

I'm just sorry we spent a lot of money on these boots and the jacket!

But now I see the other Keyholders, out front, in an unbuttoned shirt and comfy blouse, with bare feet or comfortable slippers, and I feel like a fool."

"You are not a fool, no more than I was at your age. Now, if you'd like, my husband will help you get these boots off: don't worry about him, he's harmless. And then, we'll ask your partner, whose name I can't remember, if he gets turned on just by the boots or if he gets turned on by you."

And turning directly to the man sitting in her own seat, Teacher Milka told him, "Think calmly what it is that turns you on, caged man! Whether it is the heart of this shining girl or the shine of these heartless boots.

I don't judge you: for me, you may answer that objects turn you on more than people. But think it over; in a few minutes I'll want to hear your answer."

As Milka's husband unbuckled her long boots, the teacher wiped a tear from young Virginia's cheek. "I feel so stupid... all these months I've been trying so hard to look like an actress, and I've forgotten to live my life..."

"But confess to me, dear, have you had any orgasms? With me, you can be honest."

"Yes! Yes, I never faked orgasms, if sometimes I wasn't in the right mood, I would tell him clearly... but he is very talented with his mouth and he makes me enjoy it so much."

"Then you see it wasn't all an acting? The dress was fake, the orgasm was real."

Meanwhile, one boot had been untied. The girl was balanced precariously: the height difference was stark.

Teacher Milka turned to all the keyholders. "Girls, as you know, a proverb says that every woman sits on top of her fortune. In the case of our Resort, we thought of giving a new meaning to this sexist and masculinist phrase. The chair consists of a very long and adjustable backrest, and a seat. The seat in turn consists of three parts. If you remove the middle part, you will find that there is enough ample space for your husband's face. Whoever wants to (with complete freedom) can decide to remove the middle part and then order the husband..."

The teacher's voice was interrupted by an exclamation "Already taken off!" "Me too!" "I do as well" "Damn! How do you take it off? I want to take it off, but it's stuck." In an instant, without the slightest hint of shame, six women had decided to have their pussies licked in public. Including my shy Geena, who had responded among the first, waving the removed piece as if it had been a flag.

"Ah. Okay. From a beginners' class, I expected more shyness but okay: it will mean that maybe we can continue the program, trespassing on the advanced class at the end of the week, who knows. Mr. Partner, please can you help Ms. Marie take the piece apart? Her husband can lie down but has difficulty kneeling. Thank you!"

Meanwhile, young Virginia's second boot had also been unfastened.

"Tell me, dear, would you like to experiment together with us? It's an experiential teaching class."

"Sure Milka, anything you suggest."

"Without boots, and without the jacket, you join your man, who is waiting at his station. With your little toes, caress his balls and cage, and then order him to give you an orgasm here, in front of everyone, licking your pussy that the fishnet stockings so decoratively expose. Do you think he will succeed?"

"He has succeeded many times. But I'm afraid my feet are sweaty, because of the boots."

"Oh, child. Let's give the men the floor for once. Caged gentlemen, by a show of hands, because I see the mouths are busy, are there any of you who would rather be caressed by a sweet sweaty foot, much more than a dry, dry foot?"

At least five or six hands snapped up.

"Baby, sweat is part of the body. It's part of life. Every orgasm makes us sweat, if we don't sweat it means it's a small orgasm. Trust your teacher. The sweat from your feet is a balm for your partner. Now go. Gentle but determined. Graceful but firm."