Andrew Laird - Young girl sex club

The grounds of the Hale-Kaahumanu were a beautiful and gracious example of tropical landscaping and made up in part for the cold unloveliness of the towering edifice of glass and steel that rose, tier upon tier, above the surrounding cane fields on the edge of Lahina.

It was not the happy, bustling, prosperous place it could have been. There was a sad, hushed hollowness to the sound of footfalls in its nearly empty halls and an air of solemn, funeral morbidity to its dining room. There was music. Sound poured from many speakers, but not the lively beat of The Hawaiian War Chant. No, the listeners were, instead, treated to muted strains from Wagner's Tannhauser.

"This place gives I me the creeps," Lynn said for the hundredth time since she, her girl friends and Wikiwiki had arrived there a week before. She was off-duty from her job as salad maker and was lounging on the tiny section of beach reserved for employees. The man with her was Koko, the half-Japanese bell captain. He was a pudgy, soft-looking person, with a roll of fat above the top of his trunks and slanted eyes so slitted in his moon face that the irises were invisible.

"It isn't very lively," he admitted. "I don't think it will remain open for long if the owner's daughter continues to influence Mr. McFarthingale. The only guests we've attracted so far are people so old that all they want is quiet. It's like a rest home for the nearly dead."

"How about Mr. Martin in Sixteen?" Lynn asked. "He's not over sixty."

Koko shrugged. "He's leaving tomorrow. Shame, too. He's the only tipper in the place. I'd find another job if I could. He rang for ice water this morning and when I took it up to him, he hinted around that he'd enjoy a little female companionship and there'd be a few bucks in it for me if I could supply him. I had to let him know the policy of the hotel is dead set against that sort of thing. He got mad and told me he was checking out. Hell of a place."

Lynn sat up, her eyes glowing with interest. "He did? Look, Koko, why don't you use your influence to get me transferred to the room service staff? You get me a job as maid and I'll guarantee that Martin won't leave. How's that?"

Koko looked surprised. "You'd let the old fart have a little… for money? If anyone found out, and it got back to Evangeline, she'd fire me."

"Aw, come on. Take a chance."

"I don't know. I don't think I better."

"Maybe I can change your mind for you," Lynn said as she looked around to make sure they were alone on the beach, then reached behind her to unsnap her halter top. Her beautiful breasts, starkly white against the tan of her torso, stood out defiantly and she wiggled her body, making them dance enticingly. She heard Koko's sharp gasp.

"I could be very nice to you if you would get me that new job," she suggested, smiling at him. To prove it, she unbuttoned the bottom part of her sun suit and began rolling it down over her lush hips. "How about it?"

Koko licked his lips and began to perspire. "I'm a married man," he said, "and I've been true to my wife, but I've never fucked a white girl and I've always wanted to try it. Will you let me do something special with you if I agree?"

"Sure. What's your perversion?"

Koko winced. "We could go up there in those bushes," he whispered hoarsely. "I could cut a small switch. I'd like to whip you on the fanny before we do it. My wife won't let me do that."

"Just don't mark me," Lynn cautioned him. "I want a nice, smooth ass for Mr. Martin, you know."

"All right," Koko affirmed eagerly. "Let's go."

They walked up the beach to the stand of brush, and Lynn lay on the warm sand while he broke off a slender switch. He knelt on the ground beside her and she heard it whistle through the air before it touched her buttocks with a streak of fire. She began to regret her bargain, but remembered that Wikiwiki was counting on her, so she clenched her teeth and determined to endure the pain of the flagellation. Again and again he struck her. Just when she thought she could no longer stand it, she became aware that the agony seemed to diminish now with each stroke. Soon the blows had entirely lost their sting, and instead she noticed a tingling thrill that ran through her each time he applied the switch to her skin. It was, she thought, something like the time she had taken a tablet of Ellen's LSD. The beating was somehow making her come more alive, increasing and expanding her awareness. She saw the sand a few inches from her face with startling clarity, felt the slight, on-shore breeze in a new and different way and the smell of the sea was a heady, pungent aroma she had never before noticed. She was also more aware of her own body and its nakedness. She was acutely conscious of how she must look to him, all of her back, her buttocks and her lower body exposed to his gaze. It thrilled her in a strange way she had never before known. She impulsively spread her legs, wanting him to see her cunt and her asshole. Her clitoris was throbbing as though each blow of the whip was a finger or a tongue stroking it avidly. She wondered if she was going to come.

"Now I'm ready," Koko panted. "Turn over."

"Oh, yes! Yes!" she breathed, tormented with passion and desire as she flung herself over on her back, having to restrain herself from screaming with joy as he mounted her and thrust his cock into her with one savage lunge.

It was a thing done convulsively and jerkily, done in the red, swirling mist of a lust that burned them both and drove them at each other like two mad animals in the frenzy of their heat. It was over quickly, but was so intense that Lynn feared she would die in the blazing fires of the orgasm that shook her every nerve and muscle.

While he lay panting on her exhausted body, his cock still in her, she put her hand under one of her breasts and lifted a nipple to his mouth, indicating by the urgency with which she crushed her soft yet firm abundance against his face that she wanted him to bite her. He obliged her, and she knew one more thrill of dying passion as his teeth crushed down on the magenta delicacy.

He raised his head and, for the first time, she could see his eyes. They gleamed at her strangely, still clouded with lust, remote and somehow excitingly evil.

"You liked it, didn't you?" he asked her. He sounded as though he thought that an unbelievable miracle.

"I loved it!" she breathed.

"It's better with a belt," he told her, "and there is another way… with the end of a wet towel. The towel hurts like hell and leaves red welts, but they disappear in an hour."

"I want to do it every way you know," she told him. "You can make up some kind of a story for your wife and come to my room at night."

"If I had the nerve, I would kill my wife. That is why we have no children… she won't let me whip her and that is the only way I can get an erection. She doesn't care. She is a cold bitch. I have dreamed about taking her far out on the beach, where no one could hear her scream, and having a really good time with her."

Lynn shuddered. "You better not," she said. "You might get caught. You can come to my room and use a belt or towel on me whenever you feel like it. Will you get me on as a maid? I'll give you a percentage of what I get from Martin, or any other man in the hotel."

"Sure. I can fix it this afternoon. Can I whip you again now?"

"Oh, yes! Please do!"

That evening, dressed in her new costume as a maid, Lynn went to Room Sixteen. She knocked lightly on the door and went in before the white-haired man on the bed could answer. "Oh," she exclaimed, pretending to be surprised to see him lying there, his puffy, corpulent body clothed only in underwear. "I didn't know you were in, Mr. Martin. I just wanted to tidy up a bit in here. Don't bother to get up, sir. I'll only be a minute." She turned her back on him and bent from the waist to pick up some lint from the carpet. She was well aware that the action exposed her legs and the backs of her thighs to the lacy fringe of her panties. She took her time with the lint and, when she straightened up, she was flushed from the effort.