Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018-2019 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

HHorne@tickiestories.us

Chapter 38

The tour moved from the studio to the Lodge for lunch.  Dildar and Sasha were escorting the group, so when we got to the Lodge, they took them on a brief tour of the pool area, the rainbow arc shape of the rooms, the bar and into the dining area.  Hassan stopped me for a moment.

“Grant, when you get a minute, I have a question, but it can wait,” he commented.

I stopped to talk.  “This is a good time, because they’re going for the food.”

“This morning we had a package delivery.  Our usual driver was training another man, and they both came inside.  The young guy was looking around, including out onto the pool area.  Two of our guests were enjoying each other’s company to the fullest, and the trainee saw them, naked, kissing and playing with each other.  He was getting upset by what he saw.  Bert tried to calm him down and told him not to have a hissy or a conniption.  What are a hissy and a conniption?  I’ve never heard of them before.”

I had to laugh.  “You probably saw both in action by the trainee right then,” I told him.  “Sometimes they’re referred to as fits.  I probably would have told him not to get his bowels in an uproar.  Or maybe chill out.  A hissy fit and conniption fit are a couple of expressions used here in the south, basically meaning temper tantrums.”

“Well, Bert said that he had warned the guy that this is a gay resort and to not be surprised by what he saw.  Then they left with the guy still muttering something.  Do you think there will be any trouble because of that?”

“The kid could be hooked up with some ultra-religious group that thinks we’re going to hell because we’re not following the teachings of their cult,” I replied.  “Let me know when another delivery is due, and I’ll talk with Bert.  He’s a super, level-headed guy.  Everything should be okay.”

“Thanks, Grant.  I just wanted you to know.”

“No, thank you!”  I told him, smiling while patting him on the shoulder.  “I’m going to lunch.”

After lunch I made an announcement to our guests.  “The rest of the afternoon is pretty much free for whatever you want to do.  If you want to hang out here at the Lodge, we’ve got rooms you’re welcome to use.  The pool area is clothing optional, if you want to meet some of our other guests staying with us this weekend.  You can go back over to the house and relax and use that pool, fitness center — or the ‘other’ activity room on the lower floor.  {I wiggled my eyebrows like Groucho to their chuckles}  Dinner will be at the Club and we’ll leave from home about 7:30; dress will be casual.  We’ll go down to the club afterward where party stuff will be available for the New Year’s Celebration at midnight.”

“Usual party stuff or special party stuff?” one of the guys asked, to laughter and clapping.

“Usual party stuff — hats, noise makers, masks —stuff like that.  We.  DO NOT.  get into that other type of crap.  That’s the fastest way I know to get fucked up, and the fastest way to get banned from this property.  If you’re into that, you’ll have to wait until you get home.  Poppers are about as much as we’ll allow here at the Crystal Rainbow.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Loud and clear,” the questioner replied. 

“Good! That’s taken care of.  Private dances in the club will be our usual fee of $20.00 for ten minutes.  This is because all the customers pay the same amount.  Admission and drinks are on the house for our guests who are staying up at the Castle.  The service staff always appreciate any tips that you want to give them.  So, we’ll see you all at the Castle later.  Enjoy!”

I went directly into the Lodge office, Hassan was at his desk and looked up when I walked in and closed the door.  Jamal appeared as soon as I sat down. 

“Did you find anything?” I asked him.

“Nothing that shouldn’t be there.  Everybody is clean,” he replied.

“Not even marijuana or opium?” I asked.

“They’re all clean.  If they have any drugs, it’s not in their rooms,” Jamal confirmed.

“Good!  Thank you,” I told him, and he disappeared.  Hassan looked inquisitive.  “One of the men asked about the kind of ‘party’ we were having for New Year’s Eve.  I told him it would not be the kind he might be thinking of.  That anyone with that kind of crap on him would be banned from the Chrystal Rainbow for life.  I didn’t add that he would lose all our advertising as part of the ban.  Let him draw his own conclusions.”  

“And I was thinking about turning one of the spare rooms into a hookah lounge!” Hassan smirked as he said it.

“Interesting thought,” I replied.  “That might be something to consider down the road.  Let’s get established and engrained in the area and keep that in mind.”

Hassan looked surprised that I would consider the idea since I never smoked nor liked being around it.  Regardless, having to deal with it in my travels.  “Or not!” I added.  I walked out, and Hass’ mouth was still open wide.

* * * * *

That night at the Club was a huge success.  The place was packed, and we got fifty-some new members just that night, including twelve who were a really big surprise.  A dozen men who had worked on the construction crews showed up for a different perspective of their work.  Dildar was working the “front desk” and paged me when they identified themselves.  Maji and I went out to the lobby, and although we had met some of them, I wouldn’t have known the hot, muscle hunks without their “work clothes” and hard hats.  They knew Maji and me and seemed very glad to see us again.  Naturally, I authorized lifetime membership for all of them, because without them, this would not be.

“Like what you’ve seen so far?” I asked.

“It’s a lot different from six months ago,” one said.

“Oh man, I can’t believe I was a part of this!” said another.

The comments indicated how awed these guys were by the final results.

“These wrist bands will get your drinks on the house tonight, and free entry forever.  We’ll have ID and house charge cards ready next time you’re here.”

“No shit?  We get lifetime membership for free?” another asked.

“Just because we worked on the project?”

“Not, just because, but because you put so much effort into making it happen,” I replied.  “Without you guys, this would not exist.  Welcome to our family.” 

Maji and I shook hands with each of them and pulled them into a hug before they went into the bar area.

Marc and Evan were here also and brought several of their friends, including some hunks from their law office.  Usually we have three or four bartenders and the same number barbacks working.  New Year’s Eve had double that number, working shifts.  At quarter to midnight, a new set of dancers came on stage in outrageous and scanty costumes.  The guys who had been performing earlier in the evening disappeared to change their costumes. 

One of our landscapers is tall and lanky – oh, he’s got the muscle on him, but is not as beefy as the security guys who are also about 6’5”.  He came on stage wearing a full-length black hooded robe and a ragged sash over his shoulder with the old year on it, growling, “Where is that little punk?” and other trash-talk like that.  Hiding behind one of the dancers was one of our Munchkins wearing a tiny diaper and a white sash with the new year flashing on it.  He was hollering, “Don’t let him get me!”  When ‘Father Time’ found ‘Baby New Year,’ and picked him up, the little guy began fighting, pounding the big guy, even kicking him in the lower torso.  ‘Father Time’ dropped the ‘Baby’ on the stage and received a hard fist to the same area of the body from the little one.  The big guy doubled up, turning his back to the ‘Baby.’  The little guy rammed his fist at the back of the cloak and said-fist disappeared up the ‘old man’s’ backside.  ‘Father Time’ reacted to that, standing and picking ‘Baby New Year’ off the floor, carrying him off the stage that way.  {Thanks to our jinn.} 

The entire ensemble gathered on stage, and around it on the floor, all in outlandish costumes, singing ‘Auld Lang Syne.’  Balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling, and everybody went around kissing everyone else.  The barbacks served everyone champagne, and for the next fifteen minutes, we got to meet everyone in the place and wish them A Happy New Year.

The full ensemble of dancers performed on stage or on the floor.  They gave every customer full attention and some of — uh — what they wanted.  The café was open for those who wanted a free ‘breakfast’ and lots of coffee.  A coffee urn was set up in the Club, so no one would be driving totally soused.  Sausage-cheese balls were stacked for everyone to put more food in their system than booze.  As they left, Security gave everyone a gumball designed to absorb excessive alcohol in the body’s system.  A five-minute sobering gum developed by Arman. 

All of us at the Palace slept late New Year’s morning.  Fresh coffee, dark roast and strong, greeted everyone when we came down for breakfast.  Angel kept freshly scrambled eggs, link sausages and toast on the serving board.  The Rose Parade was not on because it was a Sunday, so everyone just chilled for what was left of the morning.  There were no hangovers, thanks to Arman’s gumballs; just a bunch of tired men wanting some more rest. 

As the new year’s afternoon went on, some watched the pro games on the tube, and others spent it in the pool.  The Munchkins came over to enjoy the pool and the ‘big guys’ using it.  Dil and Hass showed up later in the afternoon, but Jim and Scotty stayed secluded for the day.

The next day, all our guests returned home, and we were left to a so-called ‘normal’ routine. 

* * * * *

Our next major event entertaining guests would be over Valentine’s Day.  Jim, Scotty, Hass and I got on our computers to find gay couples who have recently gotten marriage licenses.  Our own print ads invited couples who are newly married or engaged to email us for the opportunity to spend Valentine’s Day at the Crystal Rainbow as our guests.   We would have a half-dozen little Cupids shooting arrows at the guests, injecting them with ‘Love Potion Sixty-Nine!’

For our March promotion, we would invite gay Irishmen to join us for St. Patrick’s Day, when a half-dozen Leprechauns would share some of their gold hoard with the guests. 

A couple of weeks later, we would celebrate April Fool’s Day.  Our jinn would search out gay pranksters around the globe to invite for our own pranks on them.

Memorial Day weekend would be devoted to wounded veterans.  We would invite a dozen gay amputees to stay with us at the Castle.  Another dozen with PTSD would be invited to stay at the Lodge.  Of course, their service animals will be equally welcome.  We would repeat for Independence Day (4 July) and Veterans’ Day (11/11).  These would become annual events. 

* * * * *

Life settled into some sort of routine at the Crystal Rainbow.   Majid produced about one wrestling video each week.  It wasn’t until after the new year that he started the dancing videos in the ‘Grand Ballroom’ studio with the orchestra members and the dancers from Atlanta.  Majid, Dildar and Hassan passed their naturalization exams with flying colors and were sworn in as citizens of the United States of America.  Jim, Scotty, and I were joined by Marcus Goldberg and Evan Tyner, our Atlanta attorneys, to be with them for the ceremony in Atlanta.

Marcus and Evan invited everyone back to their condo for a reception.  Maji and I were ready to reject the invitation, but Jim and our jinn urged us to accept.  Obviously, they knew something Maji and I didn’t.  What convinced us was Arman and Jamal’s private conversation with us, suggesting this was something we should do, for us, for them, for international relations.  We accepted.

Their guests were the guys whom we met on New Year’s Eve — several of the attorneys from their firm and some of their gay friends from the Atlanta area.  Imported Champaign flowed from a fountain, other wines were also available on side tables.  Finger sandwiches, crudités, fresh fruits – a veritable meal fit for royalty.  We were glad we accepted the invitation and appreciated the guys’ efforts.

The other guests began to shed their coats and ties.    Marc disappeared with a couple of his friends.  Evan kept us chatting until one of their friends tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, everybody,” Evan announced.  “Marc wants us upstairs for a show.”

Maji and I looked around at the others.  I looked over at Jim; he had shed his coat and tie and had his shirt unbuttoned nearly to his belt.  The other men were doing the same.  Maji and I didn’t move as everyone else headed upstairs.  Dildar, Hassan and Scotty looked at us for guidance.  Jamal and Arman said, ‘Go with the flow,’ in our heads.  We still hesitated. 

As Maji looked at me, he said, “Let’s get out of here.”  Arman urged him to reconsider.  ‘Why?’ Maji mentally asked. 

‘You may regret it in the long range,’ Arman replied.  ‘This ultimately is for you. It’s his way to apologize for his behavior last year.’

‘Fuck that!’

‘That’s what he wants.  He wants you to fuck him in front of all his friends,’ Arman told us.

Maji and I were both shocked.

“No!” Maji said out loud.  That got Dil and Hass’ attention.  “He wants what!?”

‘They’ve all gone to a lot of trouble to set this up.  And it’ll possibly make you feel better toward him,’ was Arman’s response.  ‘He’s willing to take anything you can give him.’

Majid nodded his head.  “Okay, let’s go.”  He pulled off his jacket, tie, shirt and pants, leaving them on a chair.  Wearing just his undershorts, he headed for the stairs.

I stripped completely also, as did Hass, Dil and Scotty; then we followed Maji upstairs. 

Everybody else was in the playroom that was set up as a dungeon torture cell.  Marc was totally naked and blindfolded, with his arms stretched above him so he had to stand on his toes, and his very adequate cock was locked in a cage to prevent a full erection – one form of torture.  A spiked leather collar was around his neck, along with a ball gag in his mouth.

Everyone, who could, applauded as Maji walked in.  Maji just looked at Marc hanging from the ceiling, and ordered, “Take him down!”

That surprised everyone.  Evan got on a step stool and released Mark from his handcuffs and chains.  The blindfold, collar, ball gag and cock cage stayed in place. 

“Leash!” Maji demanded.  Evan produced a leather strap leash that would attach to the collar.  Maji put it on Marc and pulled on the collar until Marc went to his knees.  Then Maji removed the ball gag and tossed it into a corner between two of the naked guests who were stroking their cocks.

Maji led Marc over to Dil and indicated that Dil should fuck his face.  Dill went for it, ramming his engorged cock nearly all the way down Marc’s throat, pulling out before the humiliated attorney gagged.  A few more times and Marc could take the entire cock to the base.  Dill pumped a few times, then held it in place for his victim to suck on it.  Marc had had plenty of practice on Evan, and who knows how many of the others in the room he had sucked off.  If any.  He may have topped all of them, and that’s why they were enjoying this show so much. 

When Dil was pumped completely, Evan opened a condom package, putting the contents on Dildar’s waiting unicorn.  Evan then coated the ramrod with lube and squirted some more on Marc’s upturned ass.  Dil lined up on his target – and shoved half way in.  Marc gasped at the intrusion.   While Marc’s mouth was still open, one of his friends stepped up and fed him some fresh kosher beef.  The beefy attorney was being bombarded from both ends, and he looked like was enjoying it. 

Dil pulled out of the ass, and the other man took his place.  One of the associates from the law office stepped up to the face, placing his ‘Black Bomber’ bat in place for hitting a homer.  A few minutes later, he took his place behind the catcher, and was replaced by the ‘Wonder Boy’ which was long, slim and fully packed.  Poor Marc was having trouble with the length and curvature, so ‘Wonder Dad’ reversed his stance allowing the curve to slide down Marc’s throat.  Marc was concentrating so much on what was going on in his mouth, he didn’t realize just how much pounding he was getting from the ‘Black Bomber’ until it was time to switch off again.  ‘Wonder Boy’ went to the end of the batting order, as Hass took his place in the line-up with his ‘War Club.’ 

By this time, some of the other guys were on overload and were shooting all over Marc.  This was too much for Hass and he shot volley after volley down Marc’s throat.  The totally submissive man on his knees took every drop and tried to suck more out.  When Hass pulled out, Marc collapsed on the mat, thus disengaging the ‘Wonder Boy’ at his other end.  ‘Wonder Dad’ pulled off his protection and shot all over Marc’s ass.  Marc was lying flat on the mat, his hard cock under him, unleashing his own substance for him to lie in.  He didn’t care.  He was exhausted.

Evan took his blindfold off and used a towel to wipe up all the pools of semen floating on his lover and partner.  Marc didn’t get what he originally wanted from this, but he got more than he expected.  Majid was not part of the orgy, but Marc did suck Dil’s Arab-Christian cock, Hassan’s Arab-Muslim cock, and lots of Jewish cock in between. 

We cleaned up, thanked our hosts for the reception, and went home – fully sated. 

* * * * *

Back at the ranch, Maji and I took the opportunities to invite each of our household staff to spend a night with the two of us at the Palace.  I think they enjoyed the experience as much as we did.  Each one brought their unique personality to the occasion.   Then we extended the invitation to everyone on the Crystal Rainbow staff roster.   It took the rest of the year to complete the first round. 

 The End.

Disclaimer:  Characters and situations in this story are directly out of my mind – which pretty well describes me.  This is a fantasy!  Character names and pictures were picked from an on-line collection.  Names and pictures of celebrities are used for interest only.  Thank you!

Author’s Post Script:  Many thanks and deep appreciation to a truly outstanding editor for making this yarn as readable as it is.  Gerry Young has completed a Herculean task with his usual, inimitable thoroughness.  Tickie, you then took the pieces and turned it into a cohesive work of art.

Gerry, thank you!   Thank you!   Thank you!

Tickie, thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you – also!

And a special shout out of appreciation to all the gay military men and women who have served our country so honorably in the days when being gay was as reprehensible as desertion.  If you are one of those survivors and are reading this, please contact me.  I am working on the sequel to this story and would like to take my tribute to you a leap further.  Please tell me your story of your service in the military and the circumstances of your injuries and how you have overcome them.  I hope I can use those stories as part of my tribute to you in the upcoming sequel.  If you want to use a pseudonym or if you want me to make up one for you, either is fine.  Your story will be your acknowledgement and there will be no credits as such.  Your story will be your credit, knowing it has been told to the world.

You are among the people I most admire!  My heroes! 

Hank Horne

Posted: 03/22/19