After 4 hours in one of the Resort’s regeneration tanks Amelia awoke to find herself offered a new life as a companion at the Resort, where Damion, her lover, sits on the Resort’s board of directors. During her orientation process she discovered that even the most extreme of her darkly masochistic desires could actually be experienced here at the Resort, that no matter how badly injured or even if Amelia died the Resort’s regeneration tanks could quickly repair the damage and restore her life in just a few hours.

The choice was hers to make, become a Resort companion and live the life she’d often fantasized or decline, but both choices had consequences requiring her to go back into the regeneration tank. Accept the offer and go back into the tank to have her libido drastically increased to insure the sexual satisfaction of any of the Resort’s guests. Or, decline the offer and go back into the tank to have all memories of dying and her time here at the Resort erased, replaced by false memories of spending the last few pleasant days relaxing at one of the popular Caribbean beach resorts. And happily, regardless of Amelia’s choice Damion would still be part of her life.

Amelia thought about it for a few moments, “I was wondering if I accept the Resort’s offer, would it be possible to make a few minor physiological alterations since I need to go back into the regeneration tank?”

Ten years later...

Turning away from the setting sun Amelia smiled as Damion walked into the study of her private Resort Villa. She loved the way his hungry eyes still provocatively undressed her every time he gazed upon her. Back in the day, the Resort’s technical staff was more than happy to agree to the few minor physiological alterations she’d asked for when she’d signed her first five year Resort companion contract.

I was 27 when I’d first become a Resort companion but today, ten years later, I still have the 22 year old body I’d had when I’d first met Damion, of course, with a few modifications. First my skin, that even at 27 years had still suffered occasional acne outbreaks, was now utterly flawless. Second my breasts, the ones I’d saved my first six month’s pay for implants, were now perkier, completely natural and a full cup size larger than they were even with the implants. And finally, that whole dieting thing is a thing of the past, every time I go back into one of the Resort’s regeneration tanks my body resets, an event which seems to happen almost nightly.

Still, it’s that look in Damion’s eyes that makes my insides melt, to happily submit to anything and everything he desires when he simply asks, “Care to go downstairs?”

Hanging here by my wrists I feel a delightfully terrifying sense of fear as I helplessly watch Damion toying with that brutal cattle prod, the electric crackle as he presses the switch promising unspeakable hours of agonizing pain, and yet the thought of him ripping off my thong and shoving that cattle prod up against my cervix before he switches it on, overwhelmingly erotic. In my ten years as a Resort companion I’ve had the pleasure of entertaining more than a few truly sadistic clients but none more brutally ruthless than Damion, someone so driven to draw the last ounce of suffering out of his dying victim. It’s the one thing I’ve always loved about him.

Ten years ago I couldn’t have imagined ever saying this, but when it comes to masochistic fulfillment here at the Resort, there can never be too much of a good thing...