Swimming to Catalina

spacious and beautifully decorated cottage. There was asitting room, a bedroom, a bath, and a wet bar. “Our program?” he asked.
    “I told you,” she said, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him, “no questions. It’s nearly noon; we may as well have some lunch.” She took his hand and led him to a table at poolside. Half a dozen other couples were seated around the pool now, and two of them were naked.
    “Well, I guess it’s warm enough,” Stone said, nodding toward them.
    “Clothes are optional,” she replied. “I’ll be shedding mine when our program starts, and I won’t be putting them back on until dinnertime, if then. You can do whatever makes you comfortable.”
    “Thank you,” Stone said. “I certainly don’t object to nudity where you’re concerned.”
    “Order,” she said.
    Stone had a delicious lobster salad, and they shared a bottle of very good chardonnay. “Don’t I get to ask you any questions about anything?”
    “Not until we leave this place,” she said. “Until then, you are mine to command. Try to keep that in mind.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sipping his wine. He was relieved that Ippolito’s men were not sharing the table with them.
    “Isn’t this a beautiful spot?” she asked.
    “It certainly is. How do you know about it?”
    “I’ve been here once before. It’s very private; the phone number is unlisted, and in order to get your first reservation, a former guest has to recommend you. It’s practically a club.”
    “I like the clubhouse,” Stone said, looking around, “and I can’t wait to start the program.”

    “Looks like we’re starting now,” Betty said, nodding toward an approaching young woman, who was wearing a short cotton robe.
    “Good afternoon, Ms. Southard,” she said, “and to you, Mr. Smith. Your mud bath is ready.”
    “Mud bath?” Stone repeated.
    “Shut up and do as you’re told,” Betty said. “I apologize for Mr. Smith,” she said to the young woman. “He’s a New Yorker, and he’s experiencing culture shock.”
    “That’s quite all right,” the woman replied. “He’s not our first New Yorker. They seem to loosen up after the mud bath.”
    Stone stood up. “Do with me as you will,” he said.

24
    The young woman led them down a flagstone path rimmed with dense desert plantings for a hundred yards, then opened a high bamboo gate. They were outdoors, except for the bamboo screen through which they had entered, and a thatched roof that kept off the strong sun. Under the roof were two rectangular tubs, carved from stone and filled with steaming, bubbling mud.
    “I’ll take your clothes,” the young woman said. “By the way, my name is Lisa.”
    “How do you do, Lisa?” Stone said, stripping off his clothes and handing them to her. Betty did the same, and with Lisa’s help, they lowered themselves into the tubs.
    “I’ll take your clothes to your suite, and I’ll return in half an hour,” Lisa said. She set two pitchers, one of iced water, the other of lemonade, on a stool between them, along with paper cups. “If you get too warm, drink something, or just get out of the tub.” She took their clothes and left.

    Stone found that the bottom of the tub was contoured to fit his body, and after the initial shock of the heat, he settled in. The two of them lay in the mud for half an hour, melting, relaxing, not speaking, until Lisa returned.
    “I think that’s enough,” she said. “We wouldn’t want you to shrivel up.”
    They climbed out of the tubs and stood on a slab of stone while Lisa washed them down with cool water to remove the mud.
    “Who will be first for a massage?” Lisa asked.
    “You go first, Stone,” Betty answered. “I want to take a walk.” She left the hut, naked.
    Lisa took Stone’s hand and led him to a padded table behind the mud baths. She directed him to lie on his stomach, with his face in an opening for breathing, then, using heated, scented oils, began massaging his back, shoulders, legs, and buttocks. After half an hour she asked him to turn over.
    Stone turned over, expecting her to cover his genitals with a towel, but she did not. Lisa began with his neck, face and scalp, then covered his eyes with a cool cloth and worked her way down his body. Stone found himself becoming tumescent and squirmed a little.
    “Don’t be embarrassed,” Lisa said. “I’d be hurt if you weren’t feeling just a little excited.”
    “More than a little,” Stone