Melissas New Position Ch 02

Melissa was walking down a long corridor. She was wearing a thin, loose fitting robe, tied with a sash. And slippers. And nothing else. She was looking down and was as nervous as she had ever been. Her examination at the nurse's office yesterday had been as thorough as any she might have imagined, but had given her a clean bill of health. Her lab results, including her STD results were back today, and she was called at her hotel to come back and report for duty as soon as possible. She came right over.

Her first surprise of the day had come as soon as she arrived. She had brought her suitcase, holding all she owned, actually, but was told that she wouldn't need it. She would not be wearing any clothes on the island that were not provided. Mostly she would be naked. She would be provided with some sort of covering when she was being transported in public, like the robe she was now wearing or some kind of lingerie. Or nothing at all. That was it for clothes. Her bag was taken and put in storage. She was asked to disrobe, and she was given the thin satin robe that she was wearing now. And a pair of slippers.

As she strode down the hall to her first assignment her breasts jiggled slightly, rubbing her nipples on the smooth cloth, making her nipples stiff and erect. She was going to be introduced to the higher-ups and begin her job as sexual plaything. That was all that she knew. She had signed a contract with Mr. Stewart, agreeing to the terms of employment that they had discussed. She had really taken this job. She was scared to death.

Her escort, a young man who'd introduced himself as Bob, led her through a series of hallways, talking all the while about how great a company this was and how he hoped that he could become an executive one day. Melissa barely heard a thing he said. She was jolted out of her anxious reverie only when he said "Right here." He stopped and opened an unmarked door, gesturing her inside. She walked in. "Good luck" was all he had said before he closed the door. From the outside.

She was in a fairly small room with another door on the right side wall, and a sort of window directly ahead. The window was open. It was like the kind in old houses where the glass slid up to open, but there was no glass. The part that slid up was solid wood. As was the sill. There was a half circle cut out of the part that slid up, and a similar shape cut out of the sill, so that when closed, there would be a sort of oval-shaped hole in the wall. The edges of the oval were upholstered in padded leather.

A head poked through the hole. It was a young man with curly blond hair.

"Hello. You must be Melissa. I'm Brad. Please take off your robe and reach through here."

After a pause, Melissa untied the robe. It fell open, and she felt like she was in a daze as she took it off. Brad looked on and once she was completely naked, remarked "They were right. You really are a beauty. Hurry up, we need to get ready before anyone arrives."

She placed the robe on a chair to her left, and came over to the window. She leaned down to put her head through. Brad took her hands and helped pull her through the window. There was a curtain that went from her left to her right in a semi-circle, creating a small enclosure into which she leaned. She was half in one room and half in the other, her waist resting on the padded sill. There were two ropes hanging from the high ceiling. Brad handed her one of these, and she used it to maintain her balance. He quickly put a bracelet on her left hand, and then one on her right. Each bracelet was leather, and clicked together with a snap. She could see that there was a keyhole in each bracelet. There was also a metal ring, and to this Brad clipped a snap ring from the end of each of the ropes, one to each bracelet. The bracelets were supple, not too tight, but appeared strong.

Brad went to the window. He positioned her waist so that the smallest part of it was on the sill, and then closed the window. It was quite snug, but it was not really uncomfortable, and she could breathe easily enough. She could not move an inch, however. She heard a click like a latch closing. Panic rose in her for a moment, and she questioned, for the hundredth time, what the hell she thought she was doing.

Brad stepped out of the curtained area, and in a moment she felt the ropes being pulled tighter, until she was slightly more upright than horizontal, arms above her head, and pulled slightly apart from each other.

He returned and said "We're nearly ready. They are going to arrive really soon. You look great, and I think you'll do great. It'll be a little while before you're on. I'm going to go and finish getting you ready."

He paused for a second, and then walked directly in front of her and gave her a kiss. A deep, and lasting kiss. He reached down and took her sensitive nipples between forefinger and thumb, squeezing and twisting each slightly while he kissed her. It was clear that preparations had aroused him, and if the truth be known, they had her some as well. As did his kiss. Her nipples had again hardened and stayed that way after he let go of them. He broke the kiss, looked at her for a moment, and then walked out of the curtained area again. She saw tables and chairs in the room beyond in the brief instant the curtain was pulled aside. She was left alone with her thoughts, which were racing.

She was on a ride that she could not stop easily. It was like going down a roller-coaster. You couldn't change your mind once you went over the top. She had gone over the top. She was unsure of what was going to happen, but she was sure that she could do little to stop it. At least not immediately. She had agreed to the four weeks notice, and even if she said no now, it would be a month before the ride was over. It was in her contract that she would be a sexual plaything, and that her willing participation was not even necessarily a part of that. If she didn't want to work out her four weeks, that was too bad. She understood that. People who had worked to earn the privilege of her services would not be denied them.

She felt someone touching her legs, startling her. She felt hands spreading them even more than they were. Her weight had been mostly on her feet and arms. Now she was resting more solidly on the sill, with little of her weight on her legs and feet at all. Her slippers were removed and she felt a bracelet being put on her right ankle and then on her left. She felt the snap, and had little doubt that they resembled the ones on her wrists. Something was clipped to the ankle bracelets, and while she did not try to move her legs, she was sure such an effort would be futile.

She had not thought much about the half of her in the other room, but now she became very aware of what that must look like. Anyone walking in the door that she had come in would be greeted with the sight of her bottom, legs spread, privates fully exposed. Her round, firm buttocks were spread. And anyone could easily walk through that door. It was not locked. It was not even marked. Someone could walk through by mistake, even. And she was as exposed as she could be. She could not see anyone in there. She could not even move. She was exposed, available. In a way that she had never even imagined. Again, panic rose in her.

Almost in response to that panic, she felt a slight stroking of her legs. It started down around her calves, and gently moved up her legs. She was startled at first, thinking that someone must have walked through the door just like she had imagined. Then she remembered Brad, and decided that it must have been him. She remembered that he had said that he was going to finish getting her ready, and decided that positioning her legs was only part of what he had meant.

The stroking moved up her legs, to the inside of her thighs. She began to feel some heat between her legs, and the fingers expertly sought that heat. Her nether lips were gently parted. The stroking moved to her slit, gently moving from the rear towards the front. The fingers brushed her clit, and she jerked, as though she had been shocked. The touch moved, slowly, back away from her clit and to her lips again, moving on towards her anus. She jerked again when that was touched, ever so lightly. She could not pull away, could not move more than a fraction of an inch. She could not avoid the fingers, nor could she seek them out. They would go where they wanted, and she had nothing to say or do about it. Her breathing was starting to come more rapidly, and she was getting warmer and warmer where the fingers breathed life into her sex. Her clitoris began to harden slightly, and she was starting to lubricate.

Then she heard voices in the room with her. Men were talking, joking, some laughter and the sound of chairs. The fingers continued to graze her, touching her lower belly, stroking the slick inside of her lips lightly before moving down her thighs. More voices, more men coming into the room, chairs moving, more stroking her legs, her ass cheeks, her anus grazed as the fingers moved on. She was terrified, but it was hard to focus on her fear with the stimulation she was receiving from the other room.

The curtain moved slightly with the stir of movement in the room. People were sitting down, and their discussions were becoming more hushed. The fingers traced the inside of her lips moving very slowly towards her clitoris. Her clit was brushed, and this time she strained to make the touch last. It did not.

The meeting opened with a male voice saying something about company profits being up in several sectors, especially in Europe, after the recent implementation of some program and policy changes, but Melissa did not follow it all. First of all, she didn't know all of what was referred to or what it meant. Secondly, she was pretty distracted. The fingers were playing her like a musical instrument, and she found in herself a crescendo building, slowly, almost imperceptibly, but increasingly demanding. In fact, she was getting very aroused and not thinking clearly about anything.

Then the voice introduced a Bryce Stewart, and she recognized Mr. Stewart's voice as he spoke.

"I've had several people ask me about what I was going to do about replacing Donna. As you know, that is not such an easy task, both because she was an exceptional person and because it is not a job that just anyone would be, ah, qualified to do. And there is little value in finding someone who would not do it well."

The fingers traced around her buttocks, down her thighs, just inside the lips of her vagina.

"Well, I have found someone. More accurately, she found me. And I have to tell you, she is a great candidate for the position. Not only is she quite attractive, she has a sort of honesty not all that common. When I asked her about what other skills she brought to her employment situation, she responded that she gave pretty good blow jobs. When she agreed to demonstrate, I was convinced she was right." Laughter in the room.

The fingers touched her clit and then her anus, grazing both of them at almost the same time. She moaned, barely audibly, from deep in her throat.

"We are very fortunate to have this young woman join us. And I'd like to introduce you to her. We are going to draw cards to see who will be fortunate enough to personally welcome her. Each of you place one of your cards in the hat, and we will draw two. The winners can be introduced to her from the rear while the rest of her meet her from the front. Just one card now." Laughter.

The fingers searched and touched, moving away from her slit and then returning, always returning. She could not move any more than to squirm some. She was going to experience this.

Lights came on on the other side of the curtain. There were three coming up from below, and three from above. As the curtain was drawn open, there were six spot lights on her. She hung there, with her arms above her, her breasts jutting out, long hair flowing, and her eyes closed. She looked like the bowsprit of an old sailing ship, leaning forward over the waves, nude, beautiful. Only visible from the waist up, but beautiful.

There were a few gasps in the room. No cat calls. No rude remarks. Only a few low murmurs of appreciation. She moved slightly with the fingers, aware of being on display, but more concerned about when the fingers might return to her swollen clitoris. Which they continued to do only briefly on their rounds of her lower body.

She opened her eyes, but could see nothing with all of the lights in her eyes. The rest of the room was dark. She felt exposed and helpless, but the fingers had her stirred up and the other feelings were in the background.

"Friends, this is Melissa. Let me pick two cards out here . . . Harold, it looks like you have the honor of meeting Melissa on a more intimate level. We'll see how you get along from here. And the second is . . . Jameson, you are next. The rest of us will just have to watch. And dream, I might add."

The general level of activity, with movement and rustling and the like increased, thought there was little talking. Moments later, Melissa heard a door open and close. The fingers had stopped. She felt some anticipation, and some fear, before she felt her lips again being parted. She felt fingers again stroking the wet inside of her lips, and then felt something else there, poised at the opening. Hands grabbed her hips, and then the rigid member was thrust smoothly, but decisively, deep into her tight vagina. It hit her cervix and pushed on, pushing her, stretching her. She felt his balls slap her clitoris, and that felt like an electric shock for a brief instant.

The suddenness and the intensity of the thrust caused her to gasp, and again her eyes widened in the bright lights. Her breasts moved visibly, first jolted, and then swaying some, as the initial thrust shook her body. The hands gripped her firmly, and instead of pulling out, the cock was pushed in as deep as it would go. That was a pretty good ways. She had never felt this deeply penetrated. Her position and the length of his penis made the experience quite unique to her. Roger could never have filled her anything at all like this, no matter how hard he tried.

He pulled nearly all of the way out, and began a slow, rhythmic stroking, pulling nearly all the way out of her before pushing deep within again. She began to breathe heavily, the pace of her breathing increasing while the pace of his thrusting did. And his thrusting did increase in pace, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

Her eyes were wide now, and her face filled with abandon. She reached a climax while he was still pumping her, and she rode that climax out with a guttural growl in front of a room full of people. People watching her, but whom she could not see. The pounding continued for a short while after her orgasm, and then he grabbed her hips tightly, pushed in as deep as he could, and erupted into her.

She could feel the spurting, could feel herself becoming flooded. She could feel the throbbing of his member, and the wetness cooling on the inside of her thigh. These sensations pushed her over the edge, and she climaxed again with him throbbing inside of her, slowly shrinking, still pressed deep inside her. She felt wild, felt a sort of abandon, felt herself let go. She was breathing heavily as he withdrew from her, allowing their fluids to run down both thighs now, slowly, cooling as they went.

A wet towel wiped her legs and her crotch, and then another member was at the opening, another set of hands on her hips, another cock driving into her. This one was not as long, and did not go as deep. It was considerably thicker, though, and she felt stretched, almost painfully, as she tried to accommodate him. He was much more gentle, and the feeling of fullness, of being really stuffed, gradually became more pleasant. Gradually became exciting, gradually became the focus of every ounce of her attention.

Her breathing again became faster, and sounds again began to grow from deep within her. The pace of the thrusting picked up as well, and it was soon hammering her while she gasped and groaned. His balls slapped her clitoris over and over. Her breasts again began to shake and jiggled with each thrust, and she threw her head back as she climaxed again. The thrusting continued, and she rode the climax out for what seemed forever. She was having trouble catching her breath. Still the thrusting continued. Finally, the penis inside of her exploded, and again she felt the spurting, the wetness, and the stroking subsided. Gradually. Until it was still. The member remained hard, and continued to fill her. It was not until it pulled out that she again felt juices begin to run down her legs. She lowered her head, gasping for breath. Her breasts heaved with the effort. Her arms ached. Sweat was clearly visible on her forehead and breasts, down her side and down her front. She was exhausted.

There was applause in the room. She must have put on quite a show, and she began to become aware of the fact that she was on display under those lights that kept her blind to the faces in the room who could see her so well. She became self-conscious and ashamed almost immediately. What the fuck was she doing?

She then heard a man's voice say "Come on and give me a hand." The room became quiet again. More quiet than it had been. She heard the door on her right open, and a moment later close again. Someone had entered the room where her wet private parts were still throbbing, still swollen, still dripping.

Again there was a wet towel wiping her, though much more gently than last time. It lasted longer as well, and felt caring somehow.

Then there were hands on her hips again. They felt very different, and she realized that the thumbs were facing her belly and the fingers around her back. Reaching up from beneath. She felt a nose bury itself in her pubic hair. She felt a tongue part her lips, and lips capture her clitoris. It had been mostly neglected this evening, and it sprang to life as the tongue and lips licked, pulled at, sucked on, and bathed that swollen nub.

It was almost too sensitive, but she was helpless to slow it down or to stop it. She could not move much at all. Again, she became highly stimulated, and again she responded by breathing faster and harder. The tongue and lips were skilled, even more than the fingers had been, and she found herself making a low keening sound as the sensations increased.

She felt something at her anus, first spreading some lubricant around that tight circle, and then forcing its way into her there. It must have been some tube and applicator, since is was very thin and it continued to spread lubricant into her rectum. The lips and tongue did not stop, lapping at her lips and the opening they did not succeed in covering since her nether lips were swollen so themselves.

She knew what the lube job was for. Roger had wanted her to let him take her anally, and she had done so sometimes, but it had always hurt, and she never enjoyed it. It was really physically painful. As tight a fit as her vagina was, her anus was even tighter. She certainly never climaxed that way. It was the one thing she was willing to say "no" to Roger about. Now, however, she had no choice. Something was preparing to enter her ass, and she was pretty sure that it was a penis.

She tensed a little in anticipation, but that was difficult with the skillful mouth continuing to devour her clitoris, continuing to lap at and suck on and probe her labia and the smooth surfaces inside. She noted with curious detachment that she really didn't care what got stuck in her ass as long as that mouth continued.

It sucked on her clitoris hard, making it large, and then the tongue started to work on it, teasing and rubbing her so that she began to gasp and moan even more. Then there was a pressure on her anus. Two thumbs pulled her cheeks apart what little remaining distance they could go, and the pressure increased. The head of a cock, one larger than Roger's, the only one that had ever been in there, pushed in. She felt a tremendous burning, but the cock rested for a moment, and it subsided slightly. Another set of hands gripped her, this pair with the thumbs up and the fingers down.