Frank handed her the thumb drive.

“The note said to give it to the Wayfaring Witch. I scanned it for malware but couldn’t unlock it.”

Of course, he tried, Kim thought. If it was something good, he would want credit for conveying it; if bad, for protecting her.

Frank had been her boss, editor, mentor, friend, lover, and friend—in that sequence. He had turned an English lit graduate into a famous, albeit anonymously so, travel writer known as the Wayfaring Witch. She ultimately broke off the relationship because she didn’t want to be unfaithful but also didn’t want to be celibate as she explored the world.

Known for her thorough and thoughtful reviews, she could extol a family-run café that was better than you would expect while admonishing a prestige hotel for coasting on its reputation. Both travelers and establishments valued her assessments.

Until it ended. Web reviews by petulant amateurs ruined the travel periodical business and she had been unemployed for a year. Frank had moved on a few years earlier, his management skills applicable to other jobs. She had tried different kinds of writing with no success yet.

“You know you’re welcome to move into the spare bedroom.”

He had never been subtle about his wish that they were still together. She was living frugally in a small apartment and didn’t argue as he picked up the check for their lunch. It was quite a demotion from being a world traveler with an expense account.

Opening the file required her to correctly answer increasingly personal questions. They seemed to know everything about her.

An organization wanted to meet her in San Francisco to make a proposal. To interest her and pay her expenses, they supplied a cryptocurrency account and password—a gift to express their seriousness. Kim was stunned to discover it was worth twenty thousand dollars.

In a private room at the restaurant, a man and woman sat at a table set for three.

Chloe introduced herself and her companion, Gunther.

“We manage resorts around the world that you have never heard of. They are private, only for the most exclusive clientele. We would like you to visit and write about them, both for us and for potential guests.”

It sounded too good to be true.

Gunther continued, “Because of the nature of this job, you will have few readers and will have severe confidentiality constraints.”

“In addition to world-class amenities for the rich and famous—or anonymous—we provide a variety of sexual services,” Chloe dropped the other shoe.

“These are not bordellos or sex clubs,” she elucidated. “Yes, it can be as simple as providing a companion in a room, but it can be a customized encounter appealing to specific preferences or even a group event with many participants—all with five-star quality in a top-tier environment. We invite you to stay at our facility in the redwoods north of the city this weekend.”

Gunther supplied the details. “For this assignment, you will receive twenty-five thousand on arrival, which is yours to keep whether or not you stay through the weekend. We will pay seventy-five thousand more on receipt of a report for us and an article for potential clients. Your impressions as a new guest will be particularly valuable.”

That night, Kim read the agreement and rules if she were going to attend. She hated that the money tempted her to do something she would have easily rejected two years ago. Deciding to decline, she went to bed but tossed and turned for hours. Using her vibrator to orgasm herself to sleep, her imagination conjectured what might go on at such places.

In the morning she had changed her mind.

When she arrived at the resort Friday, despite the bucolic location, the accommodations were top-notch as promised. The public areas gave no hint of anything unusual. The food and entertainment were excellent.

The first event she attended included over a dozen participants, a mix of employees and guests. Colored wristbands distinguished them, with various hues disclosing other details. Her yellow one indicated her neophyte status. They were all dressed in faux-period costumes, more erotic than authentic. It was a Live Action Role Play, staged as a royal court before a king and queen. Kim was a lady-in-waiting, so was an extra in the scene, allowing her to observe.

In the first matter, a man and two women were presented to the monarchs. The man’s wife accused him of infidelity with the other woman. Although he denied it, his girlfriend essentially admitted it, blurting out that he told her his wife was frigid. The king ordered the mistress to find out herself by kneeling and licking the wife. Before long, the wife was having trouble holding her skirt up.

At that point, the queen interrupted, commanding a guard to fuck the wife right there on the floor. The husband looked on with dismay to see her wrap her legs around the soldier as he rammed her to a loud climax.

When they had collected themselves, the queen stood and decreed, “This man deceived both women and must be punished. Lady Kim will deliver twenty strokes.”

Surprised to be drawn into it, Kim took the light cane that was provided by the guard, who proceeded to lower the husband’s pants and bend him forward. With everyone watching expectantly, Kim delivered a tentative strike across his bare cheeks.

“One!” the group chorused as it landed.

“He deserves harder than that,” the queen encouraged.

The second swing whistled before it landed with a loud thwack. Kim continued as the crowd counted the punishment, ending with cheers and applause from all except the husband.

After an interlude, another couple made their case. Each accused the other of being bad at oral sex.

“My queen, I believe we should investigate,” said the king, who stood and lowered his trousers, gesturing for the wife to approach.

The queen slid forward on her throne and raised her hem, revealing a crotch bereft of both panties and pubes. Without further instruction, the husband buried his face between her legs while the wife slurped the king’s cock. The others moved closer to watch and comment on the action.

The king finished first as the wife swallowed his load. That inspired the husband to become more frenetic. All including the queen held their breaths as she approached her peak and applauded when she reached it.

With the wisdom of Solomon, the king ordered the couple to strip and sixty-nine right there in front of everyone, declaring that whoever made the other climax first would prevail. With both well-excited by their royal ministrations and eager to prove the other wrong, it didn’t take long for a near-simultaneous conclusion.

“Case dismissed,” the rulers proclaimed in unison.

Later, food and drink arrived as the event drew to a close. Kim was approached by a member of the king’s entourage, who had been eyeing her earlier. Short and slim, he was older than he looked from a distance in his youthful outfit.

“Lady Kim,” he said, bowing. “I am Kevin, page to the king. May I be so bold as to request a favor? I am but a sad virgin,” he confessed. “Would you teach me the ways of love?”

Kim laughed but played along. “In some ways, I too am a virgin,” she whispered, noting his wristband showing he was a veteran. Perhaps he was the welcoming committee! She assumed there might be opportunities for an encounter this weekend and the proceedings put her in the mood. His stature probably reduced his chances in a usual bar pickup scenario.

“Where would such instruction best occur?” she grinned.

“Perhaps I could accompany milady to her quarters.” He gestured for her to lead the way.

“It is up to you whether you want to continue roleplaying or simply enjoy each other’s company,” he said when he closed her door.

“Well, Master Kevin, why don’t you sit here and we’ll see how the lesson goes,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the bed.

Kim gave him a tour of her body and he reacted as if seeing a woman up close for the first time. When she lifted her skirt and pushed down her panties, he gasped.

“Unlike your queen, I do not mow my pasture,” she chuckled.

Despite feigning inexperience, he was an apt pupil and had soon licked her to fruition. They were still fully dressed—he even kept on his tam—which added to the fun. When she recovered, she pulled out his cock, surprised by its size considering his small frame.

Kim lay back while Kevin retrieved the requisite condom from the nightstand. Her hum of delight as he drove into her was as much from having that space occupied for the first time in months as being filled to his generous dimensions. She would have happily just repaid the pleasure he had given her, but he patiently worked until they gasped and moaned in mutual satisfaction. When the afterglow cooled, he politely excused himself.

Kim knew the lunch with Frank would be difficult. She first had to get him to sign the non-disclosure agreement and understand that it was serious before she could explain why. When she showed him what she had written, he exploded, seizing her tablet as if he might throw it.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to destroy everything we’ve accomplished? Your reputation? Your career?” he ranted.

“Calm down,” she pleaded. “I haven’t agreed to anything. I wanted to see what it was. If I send them these two articles, they’ll give me seventy-five thousand dollars. At this point, how can I walk away from that?”

“Well, that has to be the end of it,” he insisted. “You have no idea who these people are. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

In retrospect, Kim realized he had expected something else from the meeting. She had suggested lunch at his place, not wanting to discuss the matter in public. He probably assumed that she wanted to talk about moving in. After the argument, neither had a stomach for eating. She left feeling agitated and uncertain.

Two weeks later, she recalled his words. Immobile, aching, trapped, the claustrophobia was overwhelming as she fought not to panic, not to scream, not to struggle uselessly.

What had she gotten herself into?

Nude, perched on a table, ropes banded her extremities and crisscrossed her torso. The cords that wrapped her upper and lower leg were cinched together, pressing her calves tight against the backs of her thighs. Her wrists stretched to her ankles, pulling her into a human ball.

Methodically, the silent man added lines to compress her flesh and strain her ligaments. Other than the koto and shakuhachi background music, the only sounds were her whimpers when he bent joints to new limits, soft grunts when a muscle contracted to no avail, and sighs when she ratcheted up to tolerate a new level of pain.

The bakushi’s fingers never left her body, stroking her skin and tracing and strumming the coils as he applied more rope. He had selected the azure-dyed jute to complement her skin tone. She hardly recognized her body as contorted as it was, but began to see herself as he did, a living Kinbaku artwork. Although defenseless and exposed, she didn’t feel naked.

Yet her intellect rebelled against such absolute submission. An involuntary shudder of terror passed through her. She feared not so much that she might come to harm but that she might lose control of her primal instincts, cancel the session, and fail to complete the adventure she had chosen. The melange of her physical stimulation, emotional stress, and sexual response with her curiosity, bravado, and libido exhorted her to continue.

"You are closed, like a bud. Now you will open, like a flower." The bakushi spoke for the first time since he introduced himself.

Tightening ropes that ran across her back had the effect of drawing her bound limbs apart, adding a new dimension to the tension. Each line that he knotted shorter spread them wider.

When he stopped, he slowly paced around her. His prior expression of concentration was replaced by one of satisfaction. Standing in front of her, he rocked her onto her back and pulled her to the edge of the table. Her butt slid through a puddle that she hadn’t realized she had created.

He bowed to inhale and taste her, then unfastened his robe. His eyes met hers, seemingly for the first time. They glowed as he saw, not the person he had contorted, not the form he had created, but the essence with which he had imbued her.

Kim felt it. He had made her into something she had never been before and would never be again. She wanted nothing more than to join with him at that moment. Satisfying her desire and his, he grabbed the ropes that bound her thighs and plunged into her.

So open, so prepared, her cunt welcomed—no, demanded—his full rapid thrusts. Outwardly inert; inside, her mind roiled with conflicting impulses. Lust reshaped his face; he became a blur of motion with a singular purpose.

The heat and pressure multiplied with no way to release them. She could not writhe or meet his thrusts and had no voice. His steady panting and pounding made her lose track of time. Without prelude, the rapture stunned her, drowning her in a flood of pleasure while he continued pounding. Kim’s unfocused eyes saw the flare in his before her ears heard the sudden loud grunts of his eruption.

As he slowed to a stop deep inside her, she saw the fire fade. When he withdrew and bowed, the detachment with which he had arrived returned. Silently, he left.

Kim struggled to untangle her perceptions. Aching yet euphoric. Powerless yet empowered. Sated yet craving more.

It was perhaps a minute after the door closed that it opened again. An older and a younger woman stood where he had been.

“Would you like mouth or fingers before we unbind you?” the older asked, gesturing that either or both of them were available for that service.

Still trying to sort her disparate thoughts and feelings, Kim could only shake her head.

The two immediately went to work. Faster but no less methodical than the rigger had been, they untied and unwrapped her. They paused only briefly to caress unpinched skin or straighten an un-contorted limb before continuing. When the ropes were in a pile on the table, they helped her into her bed.

Once Kim was comfortable, the pair worked on her body, one from each side. They applied lotion to areas where the rope had chafed and soothed tissue that had been squeezed or stretched. She was half-asleep by the time they finished. At some point, others had come in and removed the table, the ropes, and all traces of what had happened there.

Later, she wrote about submission, being controlled, feeling trapped, becoming an object, being used for his gratification. Yet at a deeper layer, she had requested that visit to another world—which would have cost five figures if she were a paying customer—and gained unlooked-for insights. He mastered her body, but she had to master her soul.

“You were right. I didn’t know what I was getting into.” Kim paused to let Frank gloat. “But I was able to pay off my credit cards, replace that junker, and move out of that apartment,” she continued as she set the plate in front of him and took her seat.

Ostensibly, she had invited him to lunch to show him her new place—larger, nicer, and with a great view.

“Now I need your help,” she appealed to his hero complex. “I used an advance for the down-payment on this place. I need one from a male perspective. You’re the only one I can trust to do it.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “You want me to go to your hoity-toity whorehouse so you can write a review?”

She could read the conflicting thoughts on his face.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but you have the gist of it,” she laughed. “Look, you get to choose what you do and if you don’t like it, well that’s what I’ll write. Maybe you’ll show me the mistake I made; maybe you’ll see it’s not that bad; maybe you’ll indulge yourself with something you could never afford.”

She knew suggesting he might get her to stop would be tempting.

“However it turns out, I would owe you big time.”

That sealed the deal.

Kim watched on a screen as the slim, giggling redhead led Frank into the room. When she closed the door, a tall, dark amazon was standing behind it, dressed in leather, holding a riding crop. He could only stare at her imposing form while the first woman undressed him, teasing him and murmuring words of encouragement.

When she finished, the silent one pointed to what looked like a gynecologist's chair. Reluctantly, he climbed into it. She loomed over him as the other used straps to restrain his arms and legs.

Wearing a lab coat, Kim followed the blonde nurse into the room.

"Kimberly!" Frank exclaimed when he recognized her. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect—"

He was interrupted by the crack of the riding crop on his belly, just missing the tip of his cock by millimeters.

“You must not speak,” she admonished, poking his chest with the implement.

“Now Leslie,” Kim said. “You know when we capture subjects from outside, they don’t know what to expect. We’ll just have to see if this one will behave.”

“Bonnie,” she addressed the redhead, “your first acquisition looks like a good candidate.”

“Melissa,” she turned to the blonde, “this is your first extraction. Are we ready to proceed?”

Kim held out her hands and the nurse pulled gloves over them, then squirted some lube into one palm.

Standing between his raised, spread legs, Kim began to play with Frank’s cock and balls. Despite the surprise, he was soon harder in her hand than he would have been in Bonnie’s.

“Since the apocalypse, we have, by the Goddess, thrived in our domain, limiting male presence by reproductive engineering. As our population grows, it is essential to increase genetic diversity by importing gametes from the wild. If you cooperate and, may Goddess ordain, produce enough high-quality semen, we will feed and shelter you,” she explained to the captive.

“To get the most and liveliest sperm, we keep him at a high level of excitement for an extended period. Bonnie, since you were able to lure him here, I bet he would love to see your breasts.”

Frank smiled, eyes widening as she pulled her dress down. Her perky boobs needed no bra. She leaned to give him a closer look and he craned his neck to suck a stiff nipple.

Bonnie recoiled, but Kim advised her. “It could help make your first catch successful.”

Regaining access, his attentions soon made her release a soft moan. She caught herself and stood back.

“Goddess forgive me,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“It’s normal that your body responds,” Kim reassured her. “Actually, it can be useful. Use your fingers to share your aroma.”

Bonnie turned a lovely shade of pink as she reached under her skirt and placed two damp fingers near his nose.

“And your flavor,” Kim smirked when Frank took the liberty of licking them.

“The specimen’s organs are responding,” Kim said, pointing to the trickle of precum. “We must be careful not to overstimulate him too quickly, so we can get the most out of him.”

To illustrate the point, she jerked him rapidly, watching his limbs tense as she drove him to the edge. He whimpered when she released him, leaving his cock bobbing. Bonnie consoled him and provided less-risky sensations.

“These are the source,” Kim noted, squeezing his balls. “We want to wake them all up.”

She went through several cycles, showing various ways to push him to and pull him back from the brink. The next time she stopped stroking, she unbuttoned her lab coat, letting it fall open to reveal she wore nothing underneath. Frank stared at the pillowy breasts that he missed so much.

Melissa had kept his organ well-lubricated so when Kim bent forward, his cock slid easily between them. Despite his restraints, he tried to thrust when she engulfed him with their warm softness. As she moved up and down his cock, Frank was mesmerized watching the tip emerge from and disappear back into her cleavage.

To avoid a mishap, she had to stop sooner than she planned.

“There is another important organ to incite,” she explained during the respite.

He jolted when she applied a slippery finger to his asshole. With Melissa supplying thicker lube, Kim greased the entrance before pushing inside with two fingers. Frank was not fond of butt stuff, but she knew he would endure it, assuming she needed him to. His reticence evaporated when she found the right spot and made him quiver with unexpected pleasure.

He couldn’t see it because of his position, so it was a complete surprise when she withdrew her fingers and replaced them with the strapon dildo she wore. She wanted to find his limit—and push him beyond it.

Kim met Frank’s questioning eyes with a seductive smile. Churning him with the strapon freed her hands to reinvigorate his cock and balls after the distraction. Before long, his body was twitching with sparks of the approaching explosion. His eyes glazed over as he moaned louder and squirmed more than she had ever seen him do.

“Praise Goddess, it’s time,” Kim said.

“Praise Goddess,” echoed the other women.

Melissa positioned the collection beaker as Kim’s strokes became more intense.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!” Frank exclaimed.

Bonnie clapped her hand over her gaping mouth.

Melissa almost fumbled the receptacle to the floor.

Kim froze, dropping his cock.

“Blasphemy!” shouted Leslie, swinging the crop, landing a sharp blow on his shaft just below the head.

“Yow! What the fuck!” screamed Frank, glaring at Kim.

She returned his glare, her eyes darting to the other women in sequence, trying to convey his offense. His near-orgasmic brain struggled for long seconds, desperate to find a way to unlock the ecstasy that he had been so close to obtaining.

Could he understand and accept that the world had changed?

“Goddess forgive me, I’m sorry,” he whined, finally recognizing his transgression. “Praise Goddess, let me cum. May Goddess ordain me worthy to contribute to your domain.”

Satisfied by his contrition, Kim resumed her stroking and fucking. It did not take long for him to return to the precipice, Leslie’s sting a faded memory.

“Praise Goddess, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

“Praise Goddess,” the women intoned.

As his eruption splashed into the container, Kim wondered how far it would have shot unimpeded. A half dozen gushes were followed by erratic spurts as she milked his load.

When she was unable to wring another drop from his softening cock, she withdrew the dildo. Melissa took the gloves and strapon from Kim and exited the room.

“That’s a wrap,” Leslie announced, taking her leave.

Kim met Frank’s expectant look as Bonnie unstrapped him.

“We should write separately so we don’t influence each other,” she explained. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” She wanted to give him time to reflect on things.

Kim was able to turn his perspective of the event and hers into a well-received pair of articles. She was glad that her ruse to convince Frank to try it had changed his opinion. She never told him that she had already signed a long-term contract.

“When I started working for you, I traveled so I would have something to write about,” she reminisced. “Now, I’m writing to go places I never imagined.”