Retreat to Sleep

We scattered to our tasks. I was in cabin number 8. I found it and saw my duffle bag on a large, at least queen sized, quilt-covered bed. The cabin was practically all bedroom, with a door at the back opened to reveal a sink. It was rustic, but it was also comforting. I didn't see any bugs, and the bathroom was spotlessly clean. I laid out an outfit from my duffle on the bed and took my clothing off to go shower.

The body wash and shampoo in the shower smelled of flowers, a light delicate scent. I felt the tension of the previous night melt away under the hot water pounding on my back. I finally convinced myself to leave the shower and dried off on a big fluffy towel, also provided by the retreat.

My skin felt delightfully soft, and I wondered if the shower water was from a mineral hot spring as I carefully put on my sensible black cotton underclothes, a brown short sleeved blouse and a khaki colored knee-length skort. I pulled my dark wet hair back into a bun and slipped on my sandals.

The sunlight outside felt like a warm kiss on my exposed skin for the brief walk between cabin and barn. I was almost feeling that connectedness again.

Then I walked in and saw the other women finishing breakfast. I was late. They hadn't waited for me. I grabbed an apple and walked over to the table.

"Next on the agenda is a special treat. We've got a real natural hot spring here at the retreat and it is time to go and relax in the soothing outdoors!" Penelope announced as she stood up. The women squealed in excitement and followed her out the door. I felt invisible as I watched them troop out the door. I put my apple carefully down on the table and followed them. It was a short hike down a clear trail to a beautiful scene of fallen rocks and trickling water. But by the time I arrived, everyone had shed their clothing, and also, apparently, their inhibitions. Wet women were kissing in the water, caressing slick breasts and tweaking hard nipples.

I didn't even pause. I pivoted on one foot and turned back the way I had come. I heard footsteps behind me and walked faster, my arms swinging stiffly as my speed increased. I didn't have a plan, I just couldn't believe what I had just seen. So much for being part of the group.

A hand caught my arm and spun me around.

"Helen, stop," Penelope said.

I couldn't meet her gaze, knowing that she had seen what I had seen, that she must have approved of it. Otherwise she surely would have stopped it.

"Penelope, I will take care of this," Hector's voice brought my head up. I saw him standing in the doorway of the barn. Penelope dropped my arm and left, presumably going back to supervise the orgy. I strode towards Hector, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

"Do you know what is going on back there?" I demanded of him. "What kind of retreat is this anyway? I didn't sign up for some kind of sick lesbian orgy!"

He stood his ground in the face of my verbal assault. His calm expression and lack of response killed my momentum. I began to feel silly as he just stood there. I didn't have anything else to say.

"Helen, come inside. I think it would be better to continue this conversation in more private surroundings," he said to me. It seemed perfectly reasonable, and I followed him without thinking. He led me to that shadowy back area in the barn and through a door. The door opened onto a circular stairwell going down. It wound down three or maybe four times before another door led us to a small well-lit room. There were several closed doors, but the center of the room was some kind of couch. A massage table perhaps. Hector sat on one end of it, and gestured me to sit beside him.

I sank into the soft white covering. Where my skin touched it I felt a warm furry caress. Again, a relaxation invaded my mind. Why had I yelled at Hector?

"Helen, there's nothing wrong with releasing sexual tension after an intense night of group therapy. I could see that the mentions of sex made you uncomfortable last night, Helen. I know that you are not quite the same as the other women. Your insomnia doesn't have the same root as theirs," his voice was soothing to me. So reasonable. So right. Every time he said my name I felt warm and special. I hardly noticed as he stood up, moving my body to recline on the fur covered table. He slid my sandals off my feet and I wriggled my toes happily in the fur.

"You need to start by totally relaxing, Helen. I'm going to help you relax. I'm helping you, Helen," his voice crooned, softer and softer. I had to strain and focus to listen to his words, his important words. He produced furry straps and restrained my wrists and then my ankles. I felt the pressure of the straps, it was okay, because Hector was helping me.

Warmth enveloped my body and I drifted.

"All women are inherently sluts, Helen. You are no different from the others in that respect."

At those words I jerked. I realized that I was tied down. I couldn't move. How had that happened?

"The difference comes about in that your mind rejects your nature," Hector continued, seemingly oblivious to my sudden struggles. "Your mind tries to tell your body that it is not a slut. Your mind is fighting your body, fighting its own inclinations. That is the root cause of your insomnia Helen. You are a slut, and you deny yourself."

"I'm not a slut," I mumbled.

He caressed my face and I looked up into his eyes. They were filled with pity.

"Oh, Helen, yes you are. You, like all women, are ruled by this," he placed his warm hand on my crotch. "More than any man, you are ruled by lust."

I wanted to protest again, but at his touch I felt a flash of heat between my legs. I couldn't talk; I couldn't focus. My being was centered on the warmth of his hand.

"I'm going to let you think on this, Helen," Hector told me. "I have other things to attend to at the moment."

I lifted my head, and watched him leave the room, leave me bound onto the soft furry table. Panic began to spike in my chest, but it was supplanted by thinking of his words. Was I a slut? Was that why I couldn't sleep? Between my legs I felt myself heat and moisten at the thought that I might be a slut. I don't know how long I laid there, thoughts swirling like molasses through my brain.

Without warning, the door slammed open and Penelope bounced in to my field of vision.

"My turn!" she said. "Oh, here," she said and put what felt like a giant fruit snack in my mouth. It tasted of strawberries, and distracted me for a moment from the fact that she had grabbed a pair of bandage scissors from somewhere. My mouth was too full to protest as she began to snip my clothing off of my body.

I tried to chew faster but it didn't really help. I just ended up with a mouthful of juice in addition to the bolus of chewy fruity sugar. She was tugging my blouse and skort off already and I felt the cool touch of the scissors by the heat of my crotch as she started on the underwear. I tried to twitch out of the way and she scolded me.

"Careful there, Helen! There are safe scissors, but if you move too much I might get you anyway. Don't worry, the fur will feel a whole lot better once your skin is totally bare," she chattered. "Nothing bad is going to happen, Helen! Relax already."

She was right. Once the fur was touching all of my skin I felt deliciously caressed all over. Penelope strapped down my hips and my shoulders. I felt my legs being spread as she manipulated the table somehow. I felt the lack of the fur on my rear and wondered vaguely what she had done.

"I'm here to show you something, Helen," Penelope said. She was bustling about the room, but with my shoulders restrained I couldn't life my head to see what she was doing. Then she set up a mirror and I had a view. Another fur covered table filled my field of vision. Penelope laid upon it, naked.

"I was like you Helen. I thought that I wasn't a slut. I fought the idea of being sexual. I hated talking about masturbation. I never used words like 'cunt' and 'cock' and 'fuck.' I drove myself to insomnia because I thought being a slut was a bad, sinful, evil thing," Penelope said. As she spoke she caressed herself. I watched her touch her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them lovingly before teasing her nipples. They were as large as I had suspected now that they were freed from her formless hippie clothes. Her body was all curves. She wasn't fat, but neither was she skinny. A full bodied woman with delicate hands teasing sensation out of every inch of herself. I couldn't look at anything else. I didn't want to.

By the time her hands reached her shaved crotch, I was mesmerized.

"Don't you see, Helen, that this is natural? Submitting to your slut nature is the only cure for your insomnia, but it will also make you happier. It will allow you to become more fully yourself. You need to stop rejecting what you are," she told me. Her voice was becoming more and more breathy as her fingers flicked wetly around her ... clit. She angled herself so that I could see her vaginal opening, her cunt. One hand began to penetrate it. To fuck it. In and out, a smooth rhythm. She continued to speak, but I wasn't listening. My hips tried to twitch in response to the beautiful woman before me about to orgasm, but I couldn't move them much. I was trapped. No sensation touching my ... cunt.

I wanted to feel something besides aching heat throbbing through me, I needed a touch, a caress. My hands pulled at the straps, but they were tight. I couldn't move. Her voice continued to communicate with my subconscious as her orgasm grew nearer. I just watched, absorbed, fascinated, hungry as she went faster and faster.

She came, screaming, liquid squirting out of her cunt, her limbs thrashing. The ache between my legs became painful. A burning pain that only increased as I watched her recover from her massive orgasm. When her breathing was nearly normal, she stood, vanishing from my sight.

Her face reappeared above mine.

"Don't you see Helen? And that was with no vibrator, no cock, no porn. Embracing my slut nature has given unto me the greatest pleasures that I have ever known. You can have them, too," Penelope said. She brought her slick fingers up to her lips and licked them clean. I could smell her pleasure. It only made me ache worse.

"Embrace yourself, Helen. Create harmony within yourself. You'll be able to sleep, and you'll orgasm more and better than you could even imagine right now. Trust me, Helen."

Her earnest eyes bore into mine; the smell of her cunt was making me salivate. I no longer questioned my reactions. I was consumed by a lust like none I had ever felt before. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her to fuck me.

I had, at some point, finished the fruit snack. I wanted to ask her to touch me, but I couldn't figure out the words. She smiled at me, compassion filling her face.

"Don't worry, Helen. I understand," she said. She leaned down, and kissed me, a brief press of pussy scented lips upon mine.

Then she was gone.

The kiss, if anything, had only sharpened my hunger. I licked my lips, but I could only taste the strawberry goo. I lay there, unable to move, and became reacquainted with my body. I began to understand. My body couldn't be ignored. My body was a slut.

When I thought that word I felt a spike of pleasure that momentarily relieved the ache in my cunt. Yes, that was the way. I had to ... submit to my body. Another spike of pleasure.

"I can see that you have begun to understand, Helen," Hector's voice broke into my thoughts. "Tell me your thoughts."

"My body is a slut," I replied, speaking slowly. I paused at the jag of pleasure those words brought me before continuing. "I have to submit to my slut-body." Another shudder of pleasure rocked me.

"Very good, Helen," Hector told me, and I felt yet more pleasure at his praise. He removed the strap across my hips. "So, Helen, aren't you your body? When I touch your body, am I not touching you?"

He laid a hand on my arm. His hand was hot, and his touch electric. He was right. Touching my body, he was touching me.

"Yes," I sighed. "I am my body."

"What does that make you, Helen?" he asked.

I sighed again happily. Everything was starting to make sense. The ache in my cunt to be filled made perfect sense, because my body was a slut. And I was my body.

"I'm a slut," I said proudly. The words brought my hips up as I felt yet more pleasure encompass my being. It was right. He was right. I was a slut. My body needed to be fucked.

Hector undid the strap across my shoulders, leaving only my wrists and ankles restrained. He stepped between my legs and I craned my head up to look at what he was doing. I saw his penis, no, his cock, standing out from his pants, nearly touching me. He began to speak and while some part of me thought that I should look at his face as he spoke, most of me couldn't contemplate looking away from his gorgeous cock. It was a light brown in color, at least 9 inches long, strainingly erect and ready to fuck a slut. A slut like me. I could feel myself get wetter and wetter as my body began to beg for penetration.

"You are different from the other girls, Helen," he told me. "They drank the tea and did not resist the call of their bodies. Though they are sluts as well, you are actually a deeper sort of slut. You can't control your lust once it is released. So you resisted. You have tried for so many years not to give in to your body, but now the call of lust has become stronger than your will to resist."

His hands hovered over my skin as he spoke. I knew I had to listen to the words, that listening would eventually lead to my being fucked. It was hard to concentrate but I knew I had to. Focus. I could feel a heat and a spark where his hands almost touched me, especially when they glided over my cunt.

"Once you completely give in to your slut-self, you won't be able to turn back. More than that, you won't be able to control yourself. This," he finally put his hand over my cunt, cupping it, and my breath shuddered out in a low moan, "will control you utterly."

His hand blocked my view of his cock, so my gaze drifted up to his face. Those trustworthy brown eyes were brimming over with sincerity.

"You won't be safe, Helen. This will lead you to die young and unpleasantly if you totally give yourself over to it." He moved his hand and turned away. "I can't let that happen to you, Helen," he said mournfully. "It would be wrong of me to lead you down that path."

I felt a confused sort of panic bubbling up at the sight of his back. He couldn't leave now. I hadn't been fucked. Sluts should be fucked.

"Help?" I said. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to go back to the way I was before. I was a slut now, and I wanted it, craved it, needed to be fucked and filled. "Please?"

He turned back to me, a serious expression on his face now. I could see that his cock had been put away in his pants, but there was a serious bulge hinting at his continuing readiness.

"I can help you, Helen, but you have to really want it. I'm going to send Penelope in to explain what we can do for you," he said and left.

My body was sweating, heated and ready to be fucked and the cock was gone. I couldn't touch myself, there was nothing touching my cunt to stimulate me at all. I waited for what felt like forever before Penelope entered the room. She entered quietly, without her usual bounce and I saw an echo of Hector's serious expression in her eyes.

"Helen, I'm here to explain your options to you," she said slowly. "There are only two directions that you will be allowed to take from here, for the sake of your own safety. Your first option is to go back to the way that you were. Mr. Mendoza can arrange for you to get a supply of sleeping pills on a regular basis to treat your insomnia, but there will be no cure."

My head was shaking already. I didn't want to be like before. Stressed out and undersexed and not sleeping was not the way I wanted to spend my life, especially now that I knew that I was a slut. She smiled down at me. She was wearing a shapeless shift, which prevented me from seeing the distractions of her breasts. I found myself wanting her to be naked again. Sluts should be naked. And fucked.

"Helen!" her voice broke me from my reverie. "Listen to me. Your second option is to submit to your body, but safely. The only way to submit to your body, your need to be a slut, is to be a slave."

I was having trouble processing anything beyond submitting to my body. I wanted orgasm. I wanted penetration.

"Helen, focus," her voice whipped me back into the present. "The cunt between my legs does not belong to me. Because I am like you, I cannot safely be a slut by myself. In order to be happy, to be a slut, I serve Mr. Mendoza. This is his cunt," she said, touching herself between her legs. "He decides who or what uses it, and when. I am free to be a complete and utter slut, because I don't have to think. He controls this cunt, and this cunt controls me. That is your second choice, Helen. Join me in being a slut-slave."

I blinked up at her. I had a flare of clarity and realized that I had been drugged, but the moment passed and I didn't care anymore. The only thing that I wanted was to be fucked. Just as they had planned, there was only one choice for me.

"Okay," I said, smiling up at her, the ache in me easing slightly at my decision.

"You have to say it, Helen. Tell me what you want to do," Penelope crooned, lowering her face towards mine.

"I want to be a slut. I'll do anything to be a slut," I assured her.

She kissed me.

Her tongue parted my lips, thrusting hard into my mouth. I sucked on her tongue and licked at her mouth. Being kissed so fiercely as I lay bound on a table made me hotter and hotter. I couldn't have imagined such an act twenty four hours ago.

Penelope pulled back.

"I'm so happy that you're going to be my sister, Helen," she said. Then she left, practically skipping to the door. Having watched her exit, I didn't notice that Hector had entered another way until he spoke.

"I respect your decision, Helen. I understand that it is a great responsibility that you entrust to me in this matter, and I assure you, I will not let you down. You will be safe," he told me. My hips were thrusting again of their own accord. I just knew that once he fucked me, I would be his slut, and I wanted that so badly now.

He moved to stand between my legs, and I watched hungrily as he pulled out his cock. It was hard, ready and beautiful. I squirmed, trying to reach it, trying to engulf it. He stayed just far enough back to prevent me.

"Be still, Helen," he told me. I relaxed and waited. He stepped in closer and I felt the first touch of his cock on the cunt between my legs. He brushed it over me, teasingly sliding it over my clit and over my slit. I could feel how his cock got wet with the juices my cunt was making.

He just kept going, teasing me, building the ache inside me to a peak that wouldn't spill over into orgasm. Finally I had a breakthrough moment.

"Please?" I breathed. "Please fuck me. Please take my cunt as your own. Please take me. Please?" I continued. The words came to me as natural, the only words that I could have said in this situation. A smile blossomed on his face and I felt a spike of pleasure, not orgasm, but close to a release.

He thrust his cock inside me, filling me up completely as he buried it inside my body. I moaned and shuddered and came once, hard, around it.

As my orgasm retreated, he remained. He was completely still inside me, hard and filling me. Then he began to withdraw, pulling almost all the way out before going back inside at a slow and steady rate. In and out, in and out, his rhythm never wavered.