The New Arrivals

Jocasta's Playground - The New Arrivals

DISCLAIMER: The following story contains scenes of nudity and sexual congress involving such themes as incest, femdom, mind control, and some foot fetishism. If these are not to your particular tastes, I suggest you look elsewhere. Comments and criticism are always welcome, but any of either that suggests you ignored this disclaimer will be ignored out of hand.

As the ferry ploughed on through the fog, Nate's phone buzzed again. He slipped it out of his jacket pocket; the second-to-last bar winked out, as they had been doing steadily since departing from the terminal.

*Jessie: i miss u*

He thumbed past the lock.

*i miss u too. i can't believe i have to do this.*

*Jessie:its ok. just try to have a good time!!!! :-)*

*middle of nowhere. not even any signal out here :-( this place better have wifi. i'll text u when i get there.*

**Message not delivered.** No bars. Nate cursed quietly.

"Yours not working either?" His mom, Marie, poked her head over his shoulder. "I told your dad I'd call him when we got there. I guess we'll have to wait until we hit the room." She sniffed. "Not that he cares."

Nate bit his tongue and inhaled. It was going to be a long two weeks if he was going to have to listen to her complain about his dad the whole damn time. He looked around the boat; a couple of the other passengers, all of them couples or single women his mother's age, were tucking phones away in purses or suitcases. At nineteen, he was almost definitely the youngest occupant of the boat. The ferry's pilot was at least three times his age, a greying sinewy hippie of a woman with beaded hair, a tie-dye broomstick skirt and an enormous bubble vest in safety orange.

A dim light at the end of a dock-shaped shadow rose up through the mist. People began picking up their luggage, and the pilot throttled the engine down to a dull putter. A few steel radials hanging over the side of the hull scraped against the dock as she bounced to a stop.

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this." He shouldered his pack.

"Look at it this way," Marie said, "you and Jessie are going to be gone to Cuba the day after we get back, then it's off to college and I won't see you again until Thanksgiving or Christmas. I'm sorry I didn't win a trip to somewhere a bit more fabulous, and I'm sorry your dad's a dickhead who couldn't be bothered to put in the time off to come, but maybe we should just make the best of it? Okay?"

"Okay, sure." Nate hopped onto the dock, and gave his mom a hand as she made the jump herself. The other passengers filed over on the gangplank. They all clustered around a sign:

**JOCASTA'S PLAYGROUND RESORT AND SPA**

**RECEPTION AND GUEST SUITES 30M -->**

**CAFE 45M -->**

**<--- SEASIDE OVERLOOK 10M**

**WELCOME, ENJOY AND LOSE YOURSELF**

The mist swallowed up their footsteps as the group sauntered off to the right, a looming treeline almost visible in the distance. The website's promo shots had promised an island of primeval Pacific forest and kilometers well-groomed hiking paths. Almost none of this was visible. What Nate did notice was a change in the air: it was warmer now, sweeter almost. He took a deep breath, and for the first time since leaving the house this morning, he felt better. It was hard to put a finger on, but he felt more at ease or relaxed or something. Nothing like good, clean, fresh air.

A few of the other passengers spoke together in hushed tones, some of the couples walking hand-in-hand, everybody huddled up in parkas or raincoats in the wet grey. Ahead of them, chimes tinkled and soon a warm square of light appeared in the mist. Eager to find relief from the chill, Nate and his mom quickened their pace, her long stride easily matching his.

The passage from dank grey afternoon across the threshold of the spa was like walking out of a shadow and into sunlight. The lobby of the spa was bathed in warm light from amber pots overhead, illuminating a wide, open space flanked on one side by a modern reception desk and on the opposite side by an enormous statue resembling the Willendorf Venus set in a natural grotto. Opposite the entrance, a set of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on a huge garden.

The air in here was even sweeter than it had been outside somehow, and Nate was immediately very warm in his jacket. Before he had time to process this, he heard the approaching sound of heels on hardwood.

"Oh mydarlings," said a lyrical female voice. "You're all so wet. What a simply miserable day to arrive! Let's get you checked in on to your suites at once." The approaching woman was a statuesque blonde, with a mane of loose curls shot through with the odd streak of grey; she was wrapped up in a loose white labcoat and wide beige palazzo pants underneath. No amount of loose fabric, however, could hide the dramatic curves of her bosom and trim waist as she strode towards the group of damp travelers. The left breast of her jacket bore a nametag that read "Madeline," and what Nate assumed to be the logo of the place: a black circle with a pair of red figures inscribed within, in the style of a Greek urn -- the pneumatic motion underneath the labcoat made it hard to discern what the figures were doing, exactly, but they seemed entwined. He had only a few seconds to take it all in as his eyes were drawn upwards to her mouth, pink and pouty and frosted in a thick layer of gloss. Madeline was a well-preserved woman of middle-age, but she was shockingly beautiful nonetheless.

"I see some of our regulars have returned at last," she strode between Nate and his mother in a cloud of perfume and into the crowd. "Katherine it's so good to see you again! It's been simply ages. And I see you've brought Jeffrey, your fine young man." She clasped the hands of a couple close to her chest, then released them dramatically. "But I'm keep you all. Go, go! Get out of these wet things and explore!" She waved them on to the reception desk; as they walked away, Nate looked back and saw her speaking to Katherine and Jeffery. He hadn't noticed before, but Jeffery looked at least ten years younger than his wife.

"Hey, stop staring, Romeo." Marie hissed in his ear. "You've got a girl at home, remember? Besides, she looks older than I am." He blushed hard.

"Sorry mom," Nate mumbled as they queued up for the reception desk.

The woman behind the desk was a petite, older brunette with mischievous green eyes, and a black lab coat in the same style as Madeline's, only this one bore a white patch. There was only one figure on the patch, a woman's head, depicted in the same Grecian style.

"Hi," the receptionist said in a smoky voice, "my name is Ronnie; welcome to Jocasta's Playground. Are you two first timers here?"

Nate and Marie shared a look. "Yes," she said. "I won a trip through ModernMommy.com; I didn't even know I'd entered!"

"Oh good," Ronnie said. "You must be Marie and Nate Whitby! We always like to expand our little family circle." She looked down at her screen. "It looks like your suite is all set up; you two are in the Lilith. Here's your key, and a list of services we provide here at Jocasta's. Of course for you, everything will be comped for the duration of your stay." A keycard slid across the desk, tucked inside a brochure. Her fingernails, trimmed short, bore a fine sheen of mother-of-pearl; the oilslick colours seemed to almost swirl in the light. Nate didn't even realize how intently he was watching them until she slid her hand back under the desk.

"Comped?" Marie asked.

"Compensated for. It's all free for you guys," Ronnie winked conspiratorially. Marie gave the brochure a quick once-over and nodded appreciatively. "Now if you'll just follow me, I'll show you up. It's a bit of a maze, I'm afraid."

"What about our bags?" Nate asked.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Ronnie shook her head. "I'll get Barry to bring them up." She knocked on the door of the office behind her, and a tall, very well-muscled young man in his early twenties opened it. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and a pair of loose white gym pants. "Barry honey, be a dear and bring these bags up to the Lilith suite, will you?" She patted him on the cheek, and Barry's blandly handsome face lit up with a smile.

"Sure thing, mom." The tall young porter bounded around the desk and scooped up Marie and Nate's luggage. He headed off in long, powerful strides, and vanished down the corridor.

Ronnie shook her head.

"He's a a good boy," she said. "But maybe a little too eager. This way, guys." Ronnie walked around the edge of the desk: below the hem of the short coat, Ronnie wore a pair of smoky-grey yoga leggings that flowed through every curve and muscle in her legs, obviously the work of many hours in a squat rack. A tiny version of the logo on her jacket flashed on the back if her left calf as she walked. A pair of black spa sandals slapped against her bare feet as her toenails, painted in the same mother-of-pearl as her fingers, glistened wetly. Nate found himself staring again, and was a little disappointed as she passed by. He wasn't so disappointed that he failed to appreciate the sway and bob of her labcoat as Ronnie led them down the corridor, the hem bouncing *just* below her buttocks. Every now and again, he was treated to a hint of her curvy behind. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a terrible vacation after all.

His reverie was broken by a sharp elbow in the side.

"Do you mind?" Marie hissed in his ear. "I realize you're a walking sack of hormones, but can you at least try to keep your eyes in your head while I'm around? You can do what you want on your own damn time."

"Sorry mom," he muttered.

Meanwhile, Ronnie was explaining the purpose of the rooms they were passing, unheeded. The walls were largely floor-to-ceiling glass panels, those on the left showing the mist-shrouded forest, the ones on the right largely frosted to obscure what was going on within; occasionally someone would emerge from a sliding door marked "Yoga Grotto" or "Massage" or similar, breathing hard and coated in a sheen of sweat, in a fluffy white spa robe or some flavour of athletic gear.

"Coming up here on the right is the centrepiece of Jocasta's -- the natural hotsprings." Ronnie waved at a frosted door. The title read 'Heartspring.' "Go ahead, take a peek."

Marie and Nate shared a look, and she pulled the door open. A rush of warm, wet air flooded the corridor.

"Holy shit," Nate said.

Sunk deep into the floor of the resort, the Heartspring sat neatly in a natural pool some thirty feet long and ten across. Open to the sky and surrounded by a wealth of greenery, the room was clouded with steam rising from the pool. The water itself, however, was pink as a strawberry smoothie, and gently churning from below.

"Nobody knows exactly why the water looks this way," Ronnie spoke softly behind them. "But it's a stunning sight, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah." Marie replied.

Nate just stared. Not at the water, though. At the far end of the pool, a couple snuggled in the corner, very obviously making out. The woman wore a long shock of silver hair, while her partner was some decades younger.

"We should probably let them have their privacy, hey?" Ronnie intruded on Nate's thoughts. "It's a popular spot for pairs to relax after a long day of detoxing or enjoying some of our more...strenuous...pastimes." They let the door slide shut, and followed the receptionist onward into the depths of the resort.

The way wasn't as labyrinthine as first described, but it was quite a walk; it was another five or ten minutes before they reached their suite.

"Here you are, guys." Ronnie winked at them, as she keyed the lock and slid the door open. "Enjoy yourselves, now."

The "suite" was an enormous, open-concept room in hardwood panelling and glass, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the darkened forest. An overstuffed cream-coloured couch was turned towards a modern-looking fireplace, where a shimmering, gas-fed flame rippled.

"Holy crap, it's not exactly long on privacy." Marie gestured at the steel and glass-enclosure that was the room's only bathroom, including a shower with an array of heads and separate inset tub that looked large enough to accommodate a Roman orgy.

"Mom," Nate pointed. "Look at that." A king-sized bed beckoned from a pedestal three steps up from the floor. All around it and on the bedside tables that flanked it, candles burned, filling the room with the same warm, sweet aroma he'd detected outside. Music played in the background, barely audible. "Why didn't you ask for a double room?"

"I thought I did." Marie scratched her head. "Get your stuff settled, and I'll call down to the front desk. Where the hell is the phone, anyway?"

"Sure." He dropped his knapsack and stretched, overcome by a sudden drowsiness. The bed looked so big...so comfortable. Nate climbed the steps, and from somewhere he heard a phone ringing. It didn't seem very important, though. Not while the bed was there, all crisp clean white sheets and thick, luxurious pillows. He hoisted himself up onto it, feeling the springiness of the mattress, embracing him like a warm hug from a loved one.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

***

"Nate? Nate honey?" A hand nudged his shoulder. "Are you planning to wake up today, or what?"

"I'm up, I'm up!" Groggily, Nate pushed the hand away, and cracked an eye. Marie loomed over him, grinning impishly, her ash-blonde hair a tousled halo around her head; the crazily-looping locks and slight blush in her cheek gave his mother that freshly-fucked look he'd seen on his girlfriend. Nate felt a sudden surge of guilt at the thought of Jessie, though he couldn't put his finger on why.

Marie was wearing a white tank-top and loose matching pants in some flowing cottony fabric; the Jocasta name and logo were stitched out in rhinestones across the front of the tank, sparkling in the bright daylight flooding the suite. Still sleepy, Nate watched them shimmer as she shook him again, eyes tracing the contours of her breasts; her posture and the skimpy shirt made them impossible to ignore, and...was that a hint of pink he could see through the fabric?

"Waaaaaake uuuuuppp," Marie laughed, giving him one last shake before crawling off the bed.

"Shit, sorry mom," Nate struggled to sit up in the bed. "Sorry. I must have passed right out last night."

"Don't worry about it, hon." She said. "You slept like a log all night, but you missed all the excitement."

"Excitement?" He was wide awake now. "What excitement."

"See for yourself," Marie jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Their bags stood in a jumble near the door. "That dumbass who was supposed to bring our bags up last night rammed them into a cart of massage oils instead and ruined just about everything. All my clothes, most of your stuff, everything."

"Holy fuck!" Nate rolled off the bed and strode over to the luggage. His bag squelched loudly when he touched it.

"The spa said they'd pay to replace everything, but for now, they've given us free reign in the proshop."

"Awesome." He said.

"Anyway, I'm going to go take a shower. I don't know if you want to run down there to pick up some extra clothes or what -- I doubt you want to be in here while I'm naked." Marie gestured at the highly-visible-from-every-corner-of-the-suite shower cubicle and waggled her eyebrows.

"Oh, right." Nate stood, suddenly very aware of his sweaty, slept-in clothes. "I guess I'll be back in..."

"Twenty minutes?"

"Twenty minutes!" He said.

"Good boy!" Marie enthused, and turned to walk into the 'bathroom.' He noticed that the seam of her pants had crawled in between her buttocks, defining her meaty behind as it jiggled slightly and twitched back and forth. Jessie's was so much skinnier, and flat besid-

"See ya!" Nate shouted, and hurried out the door.

Even following the signs on the walls, it took him at least ten minutes just to get back down to the lobby, winding his way through the labyrinthine corridors. Everywhere, it seemed, couples strolled through the spa, lingered in half-empty function rooms, or cuddled up in the occasional nook hidden throughout.

Taking a hard left, Nate almost walked into a pair quietly occupying a bench overlooking the fogged-in Pacific Northwest forest. They both wore thick, fleecy robes emblazoned with the Jocasta logo, and the woman at least wore very little else; the robe was pulled back over one long, bare thigh, exposing her up to the upper curve of her hip, and the loose vee revealed a deep, succulent cleavage. The man was lying back with his head in her lap while she stroked his hair. He was so suddenly astounded by the sheer volume of exposed female flesh that he it took a moment for him to recognize Katherine and Jeffery, who had come over on the ferry with him the night before.

Ducking quickly back around the corner, Nate couldn't help but peer at them, reflecting that Jeffrey was a lucky dude. He really hadn't noticed Katherine the night before, but the morning light was apparently very flattering for her: hair that had been lank and damp the night before had unfurled and curled out into a thick chestnut halo around her face; her eyes twinkled in the grey light from the window, and plush sensuous lips made love to each whispered word she spoke to Jeffrey. She looked like an absolute goddess, to be frank, and that was before he even took into consideration the smooth ivory of her leg or the swell of her breasts under the thick terry robe.

Long fingers toyed with Jeffrey's hair, and she laughed a low and smoky chuckle.

Once again, Nate noticed how much younger he was than she -- ten years at least, though she looked so radiant somehow it was hard to pin down how much, really -- but they made it look so natural; an experienced, older woman taking a young man in hand, guiding him, teaching him, making him her loyal pup-

Nate shook his head. What was he thinking? Where the hell had that come from?

Looking over, he saw that Jeffrey had rolled over onto his stomach; he was kissing the flawless skin of Katherine's thigh as she curled her fingers in his hair, and she was saying something to him that Nate couldn't catch; he responded, and Nate's breath caught in his throat.

Shifting slightly in the seat, Katherine spread the robe further, pushing Jeffrey's head between her legs; her hips lifted, drowning the young man in her firm flesh as both hands held his face still. Low, wet moans filled the cubicle, but Nate was no longer there to watch. He'd backed away and walked as quickly and quietly as he could down the corridor, head spinning, sure he hadn't seen what he thought he'd seen. It wasn't possible. It was crazy. He was no lip reader any damn way.

There was no way Jeffrey had called her "MOM" before finding his way between her legs.

***

It was a considerable relief to finally make it to the 'proshop' -- really just a capacious gift-shop near the entrance -- if only because his surprisingly persistent erection made it difficult to walk with any speed away from Katherine and Jeffrey's tryst. Here, at least, he could hide among the clothes racks while it subsided.

Even if everything down here was comped for them as well, it wouldn't do him much good. He flipped through another rack of sports bras, each with a rhinestone logo printed over the left breast.

"Nathaniel, honey?" A voice quietly asked behind him. "Did Marie let you get away?" He wheeled around to see Ronnie's impish green eyes looking up at him from under the fringe of her pixie-cut, only an inch or two away. Somehow her lips looked extra pink and slick this morning, and Nate was very aware that the white tank she was wearing under her black labcoat did a dismal job of concealing the hard, firm swells of her small breasts, unbound and apparently unaffected by gravity.