6 - ANYSSA/CAMILA
6
ANYSSA/CAMILA
“W hat the entire fuck!”
Creamy, puffy white clouds float overhead in the cerulean sky. Gentle waves hit the shore with a soft whooshing sound, foaming and rolling away until they repeat the cycle.
I arrived late last night in the cloak of darkness. I allowed my imagination to concoct vivid imagery of how beautiful this tropical paradise could be with its lush landscaping, frothy blue waters, white beaches, and majestic green trees. This place is stunning, a haven, a lover’s paradise. It’s everything that I imagined it would be and so much more.
Oh, so much more.
The people on the beach are nude! Like literally walking around with asses, tits, swinging man poles, furry jungles, and bare ones all on display!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude at all, but this shit is some other-level shit! I glance left and right and notice everyone casually sunbathing, playing volleyball, or strolling by like everything is good . . . except for me.
I’m stuck staring and sticking out like a sore thumb. Not because I’m the only one dressed because I’m not.There are some with thongs or a G-string and no tops, and a few in complete bikinis and bathing suits, but I’m the only one staring like I’ve lost my mind.
“Contrary to how brochures and commercials look, there are insects in exotic destinations like this. I’d advise you to close your mouth. Wouldn’t want a bug to get trapped inside.”
I turn to my right, gaping at the smiling brunette beside me.
“Hi, I’m Felice,” she says, extending a hand.
I take it and shake it slowly, closing my mouth.
“Hi, Felice . . . I’m An . . . Camila,” I hurriedly correct.
“Nice to meet you. It is something to get accustomed to, and I was as shocked as you were my first time visiting.”
“I wasn’t warned.”
“No one ever is. That’s part of the discretion of this place. People can enjoy the exclusivity and anonymity of enjoyment without fear of recrimination or having their fetishes being disclosed.”
We take a few steps further onto the beach, where she lays down her towel, bag, and umbrella.
“Fetishes?”
She smirks knowingly, setting up her umbrella, and says, “The nudist beach isn’t the only proclivity that Belle Baie caters to. It’s a resort with all the amenities of a regular resort, plus a few more.”
“Such as?”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for you. Later, you’ll get the grand tour . . . after you’ve signed the second half of the NDA.”
“Second half?”
She nods, removes her T-shirt, and unbuttons her shorts. I’m not into girls, but I can’t help but look at how comfortable she is. Her slender body doesn’t have an ounce of fat. From her tiny handful of perky breasts with the strawberry-tipped nipples down to her slim ankles, she’s toned, athletic, and healthy-looking.
“Care to join me?” she asks, glancing at me over her sunshades as she slides out of her flip-flops.
Blue eyes mock me, almost challenging me to do the same as she’s done.
“Um . . . I’m good.”
“The best way to become acclimated and to experience everything that Belle Baie has to offer is to experience everything Belle Baie has to offer.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly sign up for this.”
“Oh, but you did. Remember the statement in the original NDA that said something to the effect of ‘exploring your complete self with an open mind’... and the other little ditty about not objecting to exploring different facets of life and embracing new adventures?”
“I recall something like that.”
“That’s what this is. Step out of your comfort zone, Camila, and relax and enjoy the experience. How long are you here for?” she asks, pulling out suntan lotion.
“Three weeks.”
“And you’re going to stay closed up the entire time?”
“Maybe not closed up, but definitely clothed up.”
She chuckles. “I like you. Suit yourself,” she says, lying on her belly. “Do you mind rubbing some of this on my back?”
I glance at her holding the bottle aloft, and as much as I want to run and say hell no, I don’t. I accept the bottle, squeeze a little into my palm, and then rub it on her back.
“Lay out your towel and get comfortable. Just soak in the ambiance first. No need to rush. It’ll come in time. Before you know it, you’ll be walking around here with no inhibitions about anything like the rest of us.”
And though this experience is uncomfortable for me, I will ease myself into it a little at a time.
I flip out my towel and lay it in the sand, kicking off my flip-flops and settling down on it. I’m not removing a stitch of clothing, though.
Plopping in my earbuds, I relax and read for a bit before I put away my phone and lie back, closing my eyes.
After my time at the beach, I returned to my suite, showered, dressed, and checked my schedule. I was due for the grand tour. Yet, I was a bit nervous about it after what I’d discovered thus far, paired with Felice’s mocking words.
The nudist beach isn’t the only proclivity that Belle Baie caters to. It’s a resort with all the amenities of a regular resort, plus a few more.
I walk into the reception area, basking in the cool breeze caressing my sun-kissed skin.
“Hello, Ms. Martinez. I hope your stay last night with us was comfortable and relaxing,” a woman named Leona, according to her name tag, greets.
“It was very relaxing,” I reply.
“Great. Well, it’s time for your tour, but before we start, I need you to sign this second half of the NDA,” she says, offering me a clipboard and pen.
I accept it and take a seat in a large, oversized armchair. My stomach rumbles with nerves as I worry about what the paper will state and whether I will agree.
I glance over it and see nothing that would cause me to go on red alert. It discusses sensual pleasures, embracing erotic experiences, and the concept of open-mindedness as it relates to absorbing the complete encounter of what Belle Baie offers. Then I’m reminded that I am entering into a binding legal agreement not to disclose anything I have seen, heard, or experienced at the resort.
Damn!
I sign away, swallowing my fears and trying to appease my conscience that whatever happens here, surely, I can run to the altar and pray for forgiveness when all is said and done.
“Okay, are you ready?” Leona asks when I hand her the signed NDA.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
She leads me down a long corridor to a glass door that looks out on a lush tropical garden. Beautiful pinks, magentas, bright oranges, and yellows dance with green, blue, and purple.
She shows me the gym, nightclub, restaurants, juice bars, winery, and indoor and outdoor pools before we move to the next amenity, the spa.
I follow her along the cobblestone path to another set of double glass doors with BBS scripted in a fancy font on both.
“Hello, Delilah. This is Camila Martinez, a new guest. Camila, this is Delilah, our resident spa manager.”
“Leona,” Delilah says with a nod before turning to me. “Welcome, Camila. I hope you enjoy your stay at Belle Baie and take advantage of the spa’s amenities. We offer several deluxe packages, both conventional and unconventional,” she says, pulling out a leatherbound menu and spreading it open on the marble countertop for me to examine.
My cursory glance at the menu with the fancy gold script embossed on black linen paper shows the usual massage offerings: aromatherapy, hot stone, Swedish, full-body, and so forth. I’m just about to close the menu when something catches my eye.
Clitoral stimulation massage. Anal stimulation massage. Sexual reflexology. Erotic massage.
Those are just a few!
Reading the descriptions under each heading has turned me on, except for anal stimulation. This girl is in no way letting anyone touch my ass other than to grip and squeeze.
I close the menu and turn to Delilah, who points at the board behind her. “These are our masseuses, along with a listing of their credentials and backgrounds. The price of a massage is covered in the cost of your stay here; however, we encourage guests to tip the staff. If you prefer a particular staff member, request that person’s service again, and we will schedule you with them. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, with your erotic massages, do they bring you to the point of . . . orgasm?” I ask somewhat shyly.
I can’t believe that I’m asking this question.
“Yes, if that is your preference. Believe it or not, we have several guests who just want to be teased, and then they return to their partner later to complete the process. Then, some are into orgasm denial. Whatever your preference is, our staff is happy to help.”
Okay. Why the hell didn’t Camila tell me this was a sexual resort? Did she know?
“Is there a particular staff member you suggest?” I ask, looking at the ten members’ pictures on the wall.
There are five men and five women who are equally attractive and sexy.
“All of our staff members are well-trained and skilled in the art of erotic and traditional massages. It all comes down to your preference and whom you wish to connect with. We have a weekly meet-and-greet for staff to interact with new guests. That will be tomorrow night at seven if you’d like to return then.”
“Sounds great,” I say. “What if I’m interested in a massage before then?”
“We’ll simply get you scheduled at a convenient time for you. Is there a particular service you would like?”
Shrugging, I say, “No. Just curious. Maybe I’ll come back later after the tour.”
“Why don’t I show you around the facility?” Delilah suggests.
Leona nods in encouragement, and I follow Delilah, who’s already taking off as if it’s assumed I will be following. Leona’s right behind me as we tour the unoccupied rooms.
Each room is painted a different color. There’s a pink one with cherry blossoms, another with grass-green wallpaper, dove grey, a deep red, a vibrant red, and teak. Several others have closed doors with Do-Not-Disturb signs, and Delilah explains they’re in use.
Each room has a tall floor-to-ceiling mahogany cabinet with frosted glass doors to house supplies; some have one massage bed, and others have two. A couple of rooms have a whirlpool, others have a jacuzzi, and they all have sinks. Beautiful green trees stand in the corners, and varied-colored orchids are on the counters.
When we finish, we end up at the front desk again, and I realize the spa is one large circle.
“So, will we see you here this evening?”
“Maybe,” I say, not promising anything.
I can’t imagine relaxing under a full-body massage, knowing where the hands of my masseuse have been and what they could be doing. Would I be turned on? Would they accidentally forget I’m not here for a clitoral stimulation massage but the hot stone massage instead?
“Thanks, Delilah,” Leona says before leading me from the massage parlor. “So, what do you think?” she asks, gazing at me as we walk along the stone path to another building.
“It’s beautiful, serene, and smells great.”
“And the offerings?” Leona asks with a knowing smirk.
“They’re a bit more than I expected. I think it’s sexy and unique, but . . . I won’t lie; it caught me off guard. I guess everyone has a thing.”
“What’s your thing, Camila?”
Smiling, I say, “I don’t know, really. I love traveling, and while I don’t consider myself a prude, some of this is beyond what I could have imagined. I want to be open to exploring new things while I’m here, and hopefully, I’ll figure out what my thing is by then.”
“Maybe we can help you figure out your thing while you’re here. Help you explore and develop your sensual awareness.”
She opens another glass door to a large, open space. A reception desk is centered there, with a man and woman talking. They stop when we enter and smile in greeting.
“Hi, Jules, Nelson. This is Camila. She’ll be staying with us for the next three weeks,” Leona introduces me to the redheaded man and blond woman.
“Welcome to Belle Baie,” the woman, Jules, says warmly.
“Would you like for us to give her a tour?” Nelson asks.
“No, thank you. I’ll handle this,” Leona says, turning to me. “Follow me, Camila.”
We walk down a long hallway with luminescent mosaic wall tiles. On the wall hangs several brightly colored erotic paintings of couples in various sexual positions and poses.
“What’s this place?”
“This is Studio BoDSMe. Guests come here to experience various levels of eroticism, whether pleasure, pain, or both.”
“Pain?” I ask as Leona pushes open a door, showcasing a large bed in the center of the room with straps and various devices hanging overhead from the ceiling and some leather attachments on the bed.
The room has two windows, one behind the bed and one on the left wall, but both are covered by heavy black drapery. Against my better judgment, I follow Leona inside, and the heavy door closes behind us without any prompting from me.
My heart jumps as I wonder what this room is and if I’m locked inside. Before I can ask the question, Leona pulls a key card from inside her blouse and slides it against a card reader on the side of the cabinet.
When she unlocks it and gestures to it with a flourish, I take a step closer and look inside. My hand touches the candles, oils, towels, and a broad display of rather harmful-looking instruments.
“BDSM?” I ask, facing her as my fingers stroke the flogger’s leather falls.
“Yes, and the studio’s name is a play on that word. BoDSMe is an acronym for Boudoir of Desirable, Stimulatingly Mind-bending Experiences. Have you ever indulged?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Not that I’m averse to it, but . . . I guess I haven’t found the right partner to try it with or someone knowledgeable and willing to teach me.”
“Have you gone online into any chats to find meetups?”
Laughing, I reply, “No. I’ve never been comfortable with that. So, I’ve stuck with finding out what my lovers liked. Unfortunately, most of my lovers are only interested in one thing . . . getting a nut. No matter how it comes.”
“Selfish lovers.”
“Not all of them. Some have been more skilled than others, and plenty are interested in bringing me pleasure. But they’re not very creative, or . . . Let me correct that. They’re not into anything beyond a ‘traditional’ affair.”
“So, you’re a virgin to this world, but I detect you might be interested.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I mull that over.
“I mean, I don’t know anything about it, but I’m not ruling it out.”
“Are you sure?”
I hesitate for a moment before a small smile takes over my lips. “Yeah, I am. I’m very sure.”
She taps her bottom lip and says, “I may have just the perfect partner for you.”