Erotic Escapades in a Hidden Solar Sanctuary - A Tale of Sinful Temptation

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2013 by The Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
* * * * * * * * * * * *

Stacy wouldn’t have spent the money to add it, but when she bought her new home it was already in place. She wasn’t that into gardening, but the previous owner had kept a very large flower garden on the spacious grounds and had a large, glass enclosure attached to the back of the house alongside the deck where she raised prize-winning violets.

It wasn’t really glass. The clear, curved panels of its roof and the not-so-clear panels of its walls were actually some sort of heavy plastic. It faced south so the full force of the sun shone on it throughout the day. The description of the home on the realtor’s website said it had an attached greenhouse, but as the realtor showed Stacy around the place, she constantly referred to it as a hothouse.

“Even if you don’t want to use it for plant seedlings,” the realtor had chirped. “It makes a very efficient solar collector and already has fans in place to circulate the warmth collected throughout the house in the cool days of fall and early spring.” She flipped a large switch and added, “And in the summertime, just open the roof panels and all heat escapes through the roof as cool air is pulled in through the louvers at the bottom.” She flipped the switch in the opposite direction and said smartly, “Perfect for the gardener or the environmentalist.”

Stacy was neither a gardener nor an environmentalist, she was a free-lance writer who worked from home and wrote everything from advertising copy to romance novels. She even did some ghost writing for an x-rated publishing house. She was not one of those women who loved to get her hands in the dirt and make things grow, but she did love visiting nude beaches and lying in the sun naked. As the saleslady babbled on about how many awards the previous owner had won for her violets, Stacy was not seeing flowers. She was envisioning the large hot house filled with a thick carpet on which she could lie and bask in the sun as it streamed into the glass enclosure.

There were other visions of herself in her mind, but those were for after she knew whether or not she could buy the house. It was way above her price range, but something told her that the seller would take a much lower bid than the asking price. Hoping for the best, she worked out what she could afford on her royalties and anticipated new book sales and made a ridiculously low offer to see what the counter offer would be.

To Stacy’s surprise, the counter offer was an acceptance of her bid. The realtor waited until signatures were in place on the closing documents to explain in her non-stop babbling style of talking, “I was starting to despair that I would ever find anyone who would appreciate that hothouse. Something like that sounds like a really good addition to the value of a home - and it is for the right person. But unless you have a really avid gardener or an extreme environmentalist, such a specialized add-on is a stumbling block to the sale. With the prices depressed and the glut on the market and the previous owner transferred to another state, all we could pray for was finding someone who was into the environment or gardening.”

As she sorted out the copies for Stacy, she added, “She was actually hoping for a quite a bit more, but was afraid that if she made a counter offer, it would scare you away...,” she stopped to take a breath and give Stacy a wide, toothy grin, “... so you got a really good deal. Since you said you weren’t all that much into the environment, I assume you will be using it for gardening.” She paused slightly again and finished with, “After all, what else could you use it for? ”

Stacy kept her mouth tightly clamped shut so she didn’t accidentally say out loud, “Naked self-bondage.”

Stacy had plans for that greenhouse that had nothing to do with plants or the environment. She could see herself suspended in place of the trays of earth, with the spring-loaded chains going not from the bottom of the trays, but from ankle restraints on her legs to the floor mounts at

Explore my other stories

THE END