Authors: C. Elizabeth
“Ms Bentley, are you alright
?” he asks.
“Oh shit yes, sorry Drake,” I reply as I suck up the dribble that’s somehow managed to escape the side of my mouth
, and I gather myself.
Apart from
my rather ungainly moments, I feel quite sovereign-like tonight – rather important and very lady-like too, what with the limo, the swanky driver and being escorted from my apartment, of which the entire block is about the size of one of the windows on this place. The mansion aggressively towers over, intimidating me. It’s insanely enormous and goes on forever disappearing into the darkness.
Th
is is no ordinarily lavish celebrity-type mansion, oh no. It quickly dawns on me that I most definitely hadn’t seen anything until this very moment as I occupy the very spot I’m slobbering in. Everything feels almost alive, powerfully discharging vibes of opulence and elegance assorted with a sensual and mystical aspiration.
Two circular
columns encompass the extensively extravagant edifice transcending mightily into the air. The fortress has many a tall spikey apex coated in glistening gold, peaking high into the night sky like soft serve ice-cream tips. The reflection from the surrounding lighting shines so brightly onto the palace that it blinds me and I’m forced to narrow my eyes.
Jeez, Health & Safety people!
I blink and remedy my now distorted vision.
Flamboyant
sculptures, all of which are nude upper halves of the female body, protrude from the exterior walls jutting out from the stone blocks, from their vivacious breasts to their neck and head each overlooking me like security guards, probably fitted with cameras. Their necks encrusted with sparkling jewel-like chokers. It’s as if the castle-mansion, I can’t figure out what it is really, has been bedazzled.
I’m directed
through a tall narrow glass entrance squeezed together by two elevated limestone pillars on either side. The doors are opened by two extremely delectable doormen. The inside looks like a modish upper class hotel lobby. I’m asked politely by a gorgeous looking security guy if he can take my bags. It’s like going through an airport check point, but with style and class and so much more gorgeousness.
A
fter my brief yet rather satisfying safety check, I’m approached and greeted by a very striking and well-presented brunette woman wearing a white pencil skirt, matching suit jacket and ridiculously high red stilettos.
“
Welcome to Sweet Convictions Mansion.
Ah it’s a mansion. Looks more like a castle but hey what do I know.
My name is Diana
and I am your welcome host. I’m so pleased you have joined us and I trust you will thoroughly enjoy your stay here. No doubt you will depart most satisfied,” she whispers as she winks at me and runs her long red nail under my chin.
“
If there is anything you need during your time here, please do not hesitate to call on Mike at any time. He primarily is your designated host for the duration of your stay should you have any questions, or in the unlikely event, any problems. However, each day you will be assigned a secondary host. Each morning they will arrive at your room to introduce themselves and be there to meet with any immediate needs including organising preferred meals, freshening your room and ensuring all the arrangements for your individual experiences are effectively put into place. Please do however note that hosts do not partake in any of the experiences.” She explains everything professionally and efficiently, almost robot-like.
“
We want our guests and of course staff to feel relaxed, secure and as naturally at ease as possible, so everything here is indeed slightly regimented to ensure you are well taken care of. Do you have any questions?”
Oh great, more
systematically planned order. Just when I thought I was escaping all that tiresome predictability shit. Fuckety fuck!
“
Erm. No. Thank you. Oh actually yes, who’s,” and before I can finish my question, out of nowhere, Mike emerges.
“
This is Mike,” Diana says with a wily grin. It’s like she read my mind.
Get outa my head Ms Red Shoes!
As
she steps back, a massively built Viking-like man wearing nothing but a bow tie, small black apron just about covering his cock and balls, three quarter length black lace up boots with a beautifully ripped torso, steps forward and welcomes me with a glass of champagne and a small gift bag.
“Oh hi, I’m great thanks!” It quickly dawns on me that he’s not even asked me anything yet. Argh! The nerves are getting the better of me. I’m dumbfounded by all the ridiculously good looking people of whom none are unkind to the eyes. Oh god, the utter beauty, the untainted glamour and luxury of it all.
Piss off nervous tension! Die you unwanted mental strain! Be gone with you wanking uneasiness!
Well
very obviously, I’m an over flaky dork when it comes to men in such...tempting livery.
I look up at him. He, of course, is laughing silently. I hope that’s not his way of being discreet ‘cause he’d so get punched in the face if I were a big ballsy guy he was sniggering at.
“Sorry.
Bastard nerves!”
“There’s nothing to be anxious about. Honestly.”
I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I’ve never even stayed in a hotel, let alone a friggin castle, or even mansion.
“
Thank you. Thank you so much,” I say.
Mike
then presents me with a silver tray containing a small piece of white paper with loads of tiny silver writing.
“
Ms Bentley, please ensure you carefully read the contents and sign before we go any further. Of course, if you do not feel comfortable, or wholly approve of the declaration for any reason, it is indeed your prerogative to decline and we would gladly arrange for you to be transported back to your home,” Mike states formally as he hands me a crystal covered pen.
I
pass my glass of bubbly to Mike as I pick up the miniature document from the tray and read it through.
Jeez, talk about taking the meaning of the words ‘fine print’ to whole new level. Shoulda brought my specs!
Rules:
Strictly, NO cameras;
Accept that NO means NO;
Ensure that personal hygiene is kept to a high standard;
Respect and courtesy is to be shown at all times to fellow guests and staff;
Adhere to the communal area rules, which you will find in your Welcome Pack in your room;
Should you wish to join another experience without prior personal invite, quietly and tactfully make your wish known to the relevant parties involved and await their response;
If you are uncomfortable with anything at all, say STOP and it will immediately discontinue;
For your own safety and health, and that of all of our guests, it is encouraged that protection be worn during each individual encounter;
Make the most of your experience & ENJOY the ride!
Declaration:
I,
(please print your full name) agree not to share with any outsider/non-member, any details relating to this venue or the experience.
Signature:
Dated:
What fucking experience?
I still don’t even know yet myself, although, I’m quickly starting to doubt this is just a health resort. I want to ask but I’m so far beyond that point. I feel too embarrassed, and I sign away what is probably the remaining time of my life and gulp down my left over champers. I’m here now. There’s no way I’m turning back. I’ve been reeled in and caught. I just hope and pray I’ve not just registered myself into some cult only to be gutted, marinated and thrown onto a BBQ as part of a ritualistic sacrifice.
I mean, on the face of it all t
he hotel appears normal, well, if overly posh was equivalent to normal and the guests appear relatively normal...just abnormally gorgeous. So what’s all the secrecy?
“
Excellent!” says Mike as he takes back the document and hands the tray over to yet another hot addition to the room. Beautiful people just keep popping out of nowhere. The entire welcome, right from start to finish, has not only been wonderfully professional, hospitable and refined but well devised and so brilliantly synchronised. And I’ve only been here just under an hour.
I can’t wait
to see what this weekend will bring me, whatever it may be! I’ve got such bats in my belly—well, more like crazy wild vultures. I honestly have no idea what to expect but I suppose that’s what’s most exciting about it...the not knowing. That’s why I’ve come here after all. I’ve never in my life done anything so impulsive. I’m more about check lists, forward-planning and diarising. This time I packed not knowing where I was going or what I’d need.
L
ike most women in this position, I’ve packed about a third of my closet. I’ve come prepared with options! Okay, so I’m only here for five days and four nights but my luggage looks as if I’m here for a month.
Mike
y Moo hands me another document, this time, it’s rolled up into a scroll and tied with gold ribbon, held together by a silver key charm. There’s that key again. I unroll it. It’s an itinerary.
Today’s Agenda
Arrival 11.15am
Welcome
11.35am
Registration
11.55pm
Arrive at
Room 12.15pm
The rest of the time is your time.
“
Right so I’m here. I’ve gathered it’s a mysterious holiday of some sort. How cryptic are we talking exactly?” I ask Mike.
“
Follow me,” Mike says as he takes my hand and starts to lead me across the lobby.
I bend down to pick up my luggage.
“Not to worry about those, they will be delivered safely to your room.” We begin to walk.
“
This is an upscale and exclusive members-by-invite-or-recommendation-only adult pleasure and fantasy theme park.”
As he takes a breath to co
ntinue, my heart jumps!
A sexual spa?! Oh god it’s going to be full of filthy greasy low life sex-crazy creeps.
I want to cry.
“
It offers carefully selected elite guests the opportunity to live out their most surreptitious desires. It attracts individuals from all over the world, allowing them to meet new people alike and to enjoy living out their most intimate sexual fantasies within a safe, clean and private environment. We screen all of our clients thoroughly. Not everyone gets in just because their wallets and pockets are filled to the brim with cash or credit cards.
Many have been directly invited, but most have been and continue to be referred by
long-standing and trusted members. Participants are of a respectable character and highly commended within their social networks. Some are high profile and others are just as grounded and hard working as you and I. We have emissaries based within adult shops and a number of clubs across the world, scouting for modest females and males who appear respectable and decent. They tend to be potential guests with a healthy sexual hunger or curiosity. Whilst ideally one would need the spare cash to spend on such an erotic and high-end luxury, we get our own pleasures in introducing the more conventional people such as your beautiful self, to the Sweet Convictions Mansion.”
Mike
finishes explaining exactly what I’ve managed to get myself tied into. I think somewhere between the words ‘pleasure and fantasy theme park’ and approaching the lift, I’ve forgotten to breathe.
We reach the second floor and walk down the broad hallway. We arrive outside two tall white doors fitted with grand golden handles. As the doors swing inwards, the opening begins to display the most magnificent bedroom I have ever laid my eyes on, let alone lay my head in. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. Better even. It’s an enchanting heaven.
Its
lighting is intimate and cosy, and the sophisticated interior is cleverly designed with bespoke dark wood furniture—a combination of rustic medieval meets shabby chic. Walls are coloured with erotic art and other than the furniture itself, the space is endowed with nothing but gold and white decorative touches. The room has a poster bed embellished with thick lengthy gold satin curtains elegantly draped across and along the sides of the bed posts, two coordinating bedside tables each with tall vintage styled lamp shades garnished with feathers and beads, and a matching dressing table complete with hair straighteners, dryer, even a selection of little perfumes and moisturisers. Just near the bed is a white fur carpet. I run over to check the label tucked underneath.
“Shew, f
aux fur, thankfully!”
Mike
smiles endearingly as he pilots me to a small fridge concealed behind one of the closet doors. It’s crammed with sparkling and still waters; posh chocolates and a dozen miniature bottles of bubbly. On top of a spectacular desk fit for a president is a gold tray filled with an assortment of coffees and teas and of course a kettle. A gold kettle.
Obviously.
There
’s even a white and silver chaise longue near the bay window. I’m then lead to an en-suite bathroom – gold trimmings everywhere, what looks like a swimming pool for a jacuzzi bath and glass shelves stocked with clearly marked cruelty-free shampoos, conditioners and shower gels. On the basin side is a shiny golden box. Mike lifts the latch to the lid and shows me the contents. Condoms!
“
Rule number 7. Safety first and all that,” Mike jokes.
“Holy
shitballs, that’s a lotta safety.”
Whilst pretty taken back by the array of rubbers
; for me, my happiest thought is that whoever owns this exquisite place of sexual indulgence, they are clearly and proudly all about Fair Trade and Cruelty Free products and not some typically greedy money-grabbing autocrat. A great amount of attention and detail and the utmost care have gone into everything and my respect for them is at the highest levels on my scales.
A friend of mine, a few years ago sent me a link to some images
online. They were so distressingly gruesome and heartbreaking I cried for months after seeing them! The images still flash before my eyes and kill me a bit more every time. They showed how poor innocent animals are left during and after their testing. And it’s not ‘just’ monkeys or mice but it’s puppies, kittens and rabbits too – every day pets that we keep at home; cuddle when we get in from a crap day of work or snuggle up to when we’re cold or need some love. So many of these poor defenceless and dependant animals suffer excruciating pain and slow long deaths through animal testing. At home, ever since then, I’ve replaced all the top brands who choose to live in the dark ages and continue to test on these poor animals with nothing but cruelty-free products.
It’s
evident the owners of this establishment are quite decent human beings who care about the welfare of animals. As a devoted animal lover I feel an instant admiration for them.
“Wow!” is all I can manage. I’m utterly gobsmacked.
“Is it to your satisfaction?” Mike asks.
I just laugh. “Abso-fucking-lutely!”
“Good, then I will leave you to enjoy it. As you have been selected and invited as our guest, everything is incorporated into your stay. That includes room service, the lobby salon, bars, and even the miniature beauty supplies...whether you wish to use or stash them in your suitcase for later,” he says as he winks at me.
“
The only exclusions are costume or boutique purchases.”
“Thank you, that’s very generous. I’m not entirely sure what’s so special about me that I’ve been selected, but honestly, if this is how I’m going to be treated over the next four nights and five days, I’m not bothered about the reasons. I’m so making the most of this!”
“Excellent. Oh, one last thing. We encourage our guests to use their first day to explore the premises themselves. That way they feel more at ease and less discomforted. It’s your day to do as you choose or choose not to do. Tomorrow is when your experiences will begin.” Mike hands me a map of the castle and surrounding grounds.
“If you have any questions about anything, just dial 258 from your bedroom telephone. That’s my direct line.”
As he exits and shuts my door, I pull out my phone to text Tally.
Sent: “Hey hun, I’m here safe and sound. god, this is going to be so boring!
D
rop me a text when you’re at mine and let me know how my babies are OK? Chat
later
xx”
Chapter 5
The rest of the afternoon consists indeed of a very thorough and researched tour. After all, whilst I intend on partaking in as much eroticism as possible, I need to plan it. Plan as in be sufficiently prepared, not plan as in be inevitably dreary and my usual prognostic self. After all, there’s a lot of sex to be had and a rather extensive selection of rooms offering diverse encounters and entertainment; but annoyingly a very limited time period in which to do it all. Still, I’m here and it’s free.
Be grateful you’ve any time here at all Gem.
I
want to be primed and ready to grasp at every opportunity of fulfilling as many of my sexual fantasies as I can during my time here. And of course, I need to ensure I’m appropriately dressed and equipped for each.
I visit every room, and boy what an eye opener that journey is. Three hours later, I’ve discovered all that’s on offer. They even have something called The Dark Room in which there is nothing but pure pitch black darkness, to the point of not being able to see your own hand in front of your face. This room is not for the faint hearted. In there you are tantalised purely by touch. You can’t see whose doing the touching or hear what they sound like; nothing. I bumped into a guy doing the tour at the same time. He’s been here before. He explained that whoever goes in is literally guided blindly and positioned on circular beds or leather platforms and even surgical–like chairs on which your legs are spread apart and your ankles strapped into stirrups – well, I guess that depends on whether you’re a guy or woman. Either way, you’re physically taken advantage of by a complete stranger, who at no point you get to see if you fancy them or not. They could be aliens for all I know. Sounds scary but awesome though!