A Gift From James

Within minutes we were underway again. Before returning to the observation dome, I stopped in the master bedroom and counted out a sizable quantity of cash and placed it in an envelope for Jake. Whenever a person uses terms like ‘would be appreciated’, I have learned how I am expected to express such appreciation.

I could not help wondering what an Agent Rawlings would do to or with a naked, helpless James, given the opportunity.

With the noise of our roaring locomotive our trip resumed. I suggested to Laitai that James undergo another hour of suspension with subliminal messaging and returned to the observation dome. The countryside grew in beauty and the seclusion of the track right of way invoked a feeling of serenity as the automobile road swerved away and we entered a tunnel.

When we reached the egress there was nothing manmade to be seen for miles. The view was captivating and Alice and I sat in an awed silence, which was finally broken by James.

He humbly begged our pardon and entered with a tray. Laitai had again placed him in high-heeled shoes with the added feature of a pair of well shaven legs.

James served us delicious sandwiches with a fine white wine. He struggled divinely to maintain some level of comportment. It was the effort and attitude that was meaningful. The new tape was having effect.

After lunch, a hooded James found himself kneeling between either my thighs or Alice’s, switching back and forth. When it came time for his 4:00 p.m. caning, I left to make some phones calls in the office. Alice stayed and watched Laitai swing a particularly long, thin strand of bamboo. She really did have talent.

Alice

James served us dinner and we reached Calgary well after dark. It was very cold but D and I decided to take a walk and see a bit of the city.

Many stores remained open so we did some shopping to fulfill our plans as discussed over Mimosas. James would eventually need clothing. We could not rely on encountering an American ‘Agent Rawlings’ on our return journey.

With most shops beginning to close, we ambled back to the train station where our cars occupied a far platform. Laitai was about to give James his 10:00 p.m. caning, and we decided to watch. He proceeded to sing well for Laitai. As noted, no one ever becomes accustomed to the cane. And Laitai brought out the best, with James fully struggling against his tight bonds from the second stroke until conclusion. D used several tissues, otherwise James’ tears would have soaked the carpet.

Once again the display of Laitai slowly and methodically tearing down James’ wall of masculinity stimulated our carnal appetites. A hooded James was taken to our bedroom and hog-tied on the floor. Laitai added a nice touch by attaching his scrotal parachute then drawing back his feet and attaching the stretching device to his ankle cuffs. James spent the night listening to D and me bring each other to numerous orgasms as his own leg muscles slowly stretched his sac. Very devious.

The next morning, our cars were shunted to the special train for the spa. The final leg of our journal began. We headed northwest beginning a full day of traversing some of the most scenic countryside I’ve seen. The tracks skirted Banff National Park and later Jasper National Park. After serving us breakfast James was caned and suspended with D’s new subliminal tape emphasizing his new role. He spent the afternoon in the observation dome again alternating between me and D. His tongue was developing good stamina.

D

After an entertaining day of unending ecstasy, the train entered the tunnel that signals the end of the journey.

Originally dug by the railroad to access a lush valley of timber, it is the only entrance to the bowl shaped area occupied by the spa. Formidable ridges and peaks surround the facility and the main building sits on a lake, which collects the rain and melting snow from the surrounding slopes. Due to the limestone beneath, the lake slowly drains into numerous underground caverns formed by thousands of years of erosion. Not fully explored, it is believed the collection of tunnels flows to the west and joins the headwaters of the Columbia River.

The harvesting of timber ended at the turn of the century but provided dozens of natural trails. In the hurly-burly economy of the 1920's, a wealthy entrepreneur purchased the entire valley and built a large lodge as a ski resort, then promptly went broke.

After years of disuse a secretive wealthy woman, said to be the entrepreneur’s granddaughter, refurbished the facility adding several distinctive features.

The skiing is better than average, with the curious attraction that no matter which trail is chosen, it ends at the lodge, situated at the lowest point in the valley. This provides an appreciably distinct advantage for the wealthy indolent enthusiast...no long trudge for a hot toddy at day’s end.

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But it is not the skiing that brings so many women to the most private and secluded resort in the Western Hemisphere. It is the service.

The facility’s staff is comprised of the most obeisant males and females found. There is no sexual whim or request that goes unfulfilled at the spa, which as one can imagine in a hidden and secluded valley, can become quite sordid and quite deviant in nature.

It is said that when an employee signs his or her one year contract, their clothing is surrendered for the spa’s brief, revealing uniform. Thus, any decision to prematurely terminate service involves a long walk in deep snow over impassable mountains...and without benefit of covering.

But if there had been any defections over the years, it was not known. Most of the staff are eager to serve and very appreciative of the demands of the dominant female guests and the challenges they provide.

James

I cannot describe much of the spa. When the train entered the tunnel, D pushed me from between her thighs. Ms. Laitai, seeming to always be nearby, stepped forward and hooded me. To my wrist cuffs, connected behind me as always, Laitai added my collar and ankle cuffs. Then as Ms. D pushed my face forward into rug, Ms. Laitai parted by cheeks and slid a butt plug into my anus.

When the train stopped, I felt a tug on my collar. Laitai’s passionless voice instructed me to follow and I felt the sharp sting of leather on my buttocks, rather tame compared to the cane. I was leashed and with my first step found that my ankle cuffs had been tethered. I stumbled and received another stroke and a stronger tug. Then the butt plug grew. It was inflatable and I heard the air and felt the pressure as either Ms. D or Ms. Laitai squeezed the connecting bulb.

“Concentrate.”

I did. Without sight, the bearer of the leash became my guide and with my ankles closely bound, I stepped quickly and carefully.

Laitai led me out of the car evidently onto a platform. It was cold and I was completely naked. I heard many feminine voices, some making comments about me. Despite the temperature I became flushed and I felt my penis twinge with my embarrassment and with the sensation in my stuffed backside. I was apparently in a crowd of people joining those from the other cars of the train.