Fantasy Holiday

by

Rob Willson

 

Chapter 1.

 

Peter had been home from his Fantasy Holiday for a short while and had spent a lot of time daydreaming about it. It was lucky he was both rich and self-employed, but then, if he were not rich, he would not have been able to afford such a holiday in the first place.

For anyone who has seen the film ‘West World’, you will soon recognise the type of holiday resort. In the film, the resort planet had a number of theme zones. West World, Roman World and Medieval World, for example. There were three groups of people there. The Management, who ran and organised the resort, the guests on holiday, and the local characters played by robots. These robots could be abused, or even killed, with impunity and then repaired overnight to re-appear the next day.

Nobody who has seen the film would ever forget Yul Brinner as the robot gunslinger who runs amuck, starts killing guests, and eventually brings the whole place down.

There were no robots at Fantasy Holidays. There was the Management running the place, Staff running the scenarios, the guests and a fourth group who were slaves. Yes, slaves were legal at this autonomous resort. Guests were protected and guaranteed that they would not be taken as slaves themselves!

They also had a Roman World and a Mediaeval World and, surprisingly a Luxury Holiday World, where you could get guaranteed fine weather and be pampered by hordes of servants. However, Peter had chosen Domestic World. Here you could sample ordinary life at different periods in history – and, perhaps, also little bit extraordinary in the same setting.

This sounds a rather odd sort of holiday, but it gave bossy people a chance to sample a life where they could really throw their weight around with impunity (a Victorian housekeeper with servants to bully, for example) and those with a submissive, or slightly masochistic, tendency to sample the period as an ‘underdog’.

However, out and out masochists were catered for as becoming a slave in Roman World, or as a serf in Mediaeval World.

At the beginning of the holiday, you were interviewed whilst drugged and this revealed what you really sub-consciously wanted to do, or be, with some surprising and unexpected results. You could also specify limits about what could or could not be done to you. As a submissive, you could set your own limits about how far you were willing to be mistreated.

One day, his daydreams were interrupted by a special delivery of two large trunks, marked in large red letters, "PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL". This sort of marking is usual with official looking envelopes, but it is not very usual on ‘parcel’s.

Although clearly addressed to him, the boxes were completely anonymous, but each had an impressive combination lock. He then remembered being given a special number before he left the holiday resort and told to keep it safe for future use. At the time, he had wondered what it all meant, but now he guessed it was the code to open his boxes and it did. He opened the box marked No. 1.

Inside were some numbered packages and a covering letter. This told him that the parcel was from Fantasy Holidays Co. and enclosed a number of mementos of his recent holiday, which they hoped he had enjoyed very much. They added that they hoped to see him again soon, when he could repeat what he had done the first time round, have entirely new experiences, or a mixture of both.

They advised him that the best way to enjoy the mementos was to open the packages in order and fully explore each one, before touching the next. Finally, they added that the second box contained souvenirs of the holiday.

As he opened the first package, he wondered what the difference between ‘momentos’ and ‘souvenirs’ might be.

He found himself holding a 3-hour video cassette and a large stiff envelope, obviously containing photos. He had still not really stopped to think what the photos and cassette would be about, so it was quite a shock when he looked at the first large glossy coloured photo and recognised himself dressed in the starched uniform of a 1930’s housemaid. The surprise, almost shock, of it brought the memories of his first morning of the holiday flooding back.

He had woken up in a very spartan bedroom, quite unlike the luxury hotel room he had gone to sleep in. He had just about adjusted to the fact that his Fantasy Holiday must be beginning (although he was a bit hazy about when or where he had specified his fantasy), when the door opened suddenly and two smartly, but severely, uniformed housemaids entered.

"Come on, it’s time you were up and dressed", one of them snapped, as she thrust a matching uniform at Peter. "They will be here very soon to start your training and you will be punished if you are not ready, so I advise you to hurry up."

At this point, as he became fully awake, he realised that he was lying on a rubber covered mattress stark naked. There was no top sheet to cover himself with and he knew instinctively that there would be no other clothes in the room. He had made a token effort of objecting to wearing the uniform, but then, of course, his fantasy was that he had been forced into the position of housemaid so it was really with a thrill that he had put on the blue and white striped dress and the starched apron, smoothed it down and examined his reflection in the large wall mirror.

All this had come back at the instant of seeing himself in the uniform, but this photo had obviously been taken much later in the day, because, apart from the fact that it was indubitably his face, the picture showed a very tired, resigned, downtrodden housemaid humbly awaiting her next order.

Peter took several deep breaths as he realised he had a very prominent erection. He slowly turned to the next photo. This showed him standing between the other two maids, all three standing quietly with their eyes lowered submissively (their high, tight, stiff celluloid collars holding their capped heads upright) and their hands clasped in front of them. Three peas from the same pod. Standing to one side and slightly back from them was the aproned figure of the Head Housemaid, wearing a simple blue-grey uniform dress and flexing a thin light cane rather lovingly.

The sight of this reminded Peter of the introductory talk, when it was explained that some people who had never been beaten before might like to try the experience in one of their holiday scenarios. But, to prevent it being a too unpleasant experience, in case they found they did not enjoy being caned, only a very light ‘pleasure cane’ would be used.

(Also sometimes called a ‘fun cane’, it was often used by lovers who like to do ‘pretend’ beatings of each other with only a pleasant tingling feeling and no resulting damage.)

Several of these canes were passed round, so that people could see that they did not hurt much. Most of those there took a cane and gave themselves several experimental taps on their trousers and skirts, to convince themselves that it might indeed be fun to ‘go back to school’ on one of their days.

As they later found out, the reality was quite different between their experimental taps and a full-blooded whack from a so-called ‘pleasure cane’ delivered by an irate governess, or nanny, on the tightly-stretched skin of their bottoms, with them strapped down on to a whipping block. In any case, the canes were also designed for repeated punishments and when, towards the evening, the order came to ‘turn up your skirt, drop your knickers and touch your toes’, yet another caning on a very sore, wealed arse was not a light matter.

The next photo showed Peter practising a servant’s curtsey. He remembered that session very well.

The next was of him scrubbing the floor and the shine on the garment reminded him that his cotton apron had now been replaced by an identical white plastic one.

The next was the one that he had unconsciously been waiting for and dreading. It showed him strapped down on the whipping block for the first time. The straps round his waist and his thighs held his naked buttocks immobile, ready for the cane. He remembered vividly waiting for the first ‘love tap’ that wasn’t! The stroke stung badly and, at that point, he had another 11 to come in his first punishment.

The next photo showed the cane landing on his flesh for the first time and the next picture had caught the surprise and pain on his face. The last in this mini-series showed a view of his striped, discoloured buttocks, as he curtseyed his ‘thanks’ to the Head Housemaid

How did he know it was the first of the many beatings he had received that day? Simple. For his ‘initiation’, the Head Housemaid had him stripped and then put back into a black rubber ‘punishment’ apron, before he was strapped down. For subsequent canings, she had simply pinned back his skirt and petticoat, after making him lower his knickers,

The next had him scrubbing the floor again and when he compared this with the previous snap of him scrubbing, there was a subtle difference that he could not quite pinpoint.

There followed a number of snaps of him scrubbing, polishing, fetching and carrying, and of him being punished again and again for being ‘naughty’, disobedient and idle, according to his supervisor. One showed him sitting very despondently in the uncomfortable stocks and another a close-up of his face when he had yelled as the cane had caught a particularly tender spot.

The photos ended with shots of a now very tired, but humble and obedient maid and the very last of him asleep on his face back on his rubber-sheeted bed,

Now to the video. He knew, before switching it on, that he was about to see and hear vivid memories of that first day of his ‘different’ holiday.

 

 

 

*********************************************
© 2001 by Rob Willson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.