The Island free porn video

The Island The small plane leaped into the air. Roger Kramer watched the dials nervously as his older brother Vince took them out low and fast. Behind him, Dashel Conroy chuckled, running his hands through the money. The armored car job had been perfect. Roger had come home from Iraq with ten kilos of C4 hidden in his bags. He had also spent four years learning how to blow things to hell, and a year disarming IEDs at about two bucks an hour. Vince, his older brother, had been in stir when he left, but he'd had connections for other things. Like this plane. But Dashel had brought it together. He had worked at that armored car company for fifteen years. He'd driven the trucks, then moved over to dispatch. He knew all the routes, and especially knew the delivery schedules. The second Friday of every month was the Federal Reserve delivery. Never less than five million in brand-new bills. Usually a killer when you try to fence it, the going rate was 10 to one. You walk in with a mil, and leave with 100 grand. But Vince had the connections. He could trade that five mil for 500 keys of coke, and that was worth 100 million when it hit the streets. "We made it!" Vince screamed. "We're outa here!" He was aiming at Jamaica. Things had been going south relations wise between the island and the US, and he knew that if he hit the ground the local authorities would not turn him over. At least before he left the island again with a new ID. Roger bit his lip, going over it again. Vince had picked up a .50 caliber Barrett rifle somewhere, and they had been ready. When the truck had hit the narrow section of highway, they had driven in front of them. The door popped open, and Vince put three rounds into the engine through the radiator. Using armor piecing incendiary rounds, depleted uranium, it had blown the engine back into the cab, killing the driver. The truck had spun and rammed a tree. Roger had leaped out laid a strip charge on the hinges, and blown the door clear. Dash had popped up with the AK blown the guards in the back into hamburger and began throwing bags. The entire thing from the first round fired had taken less than a minute and a half. The plane flew out over the ocean. From here it was less than an hour to the island, less than a minute to international waters... Something came by them in a blur of speed and missiles. Vince rolled to avoid it, climbing desperately. A god damned F16! The fighter rolled, coming up behind them at twice their cruising speed, then seemed to stop as it matched the speed of the little plane. The pilot tapped his ear, then signaled for them to descend. Vince flipped the switch on the radio, switching the radio to 121.7, the Guard channel. "Private aircraft 321, you are ordered to land immediately. Come to 331, and climb to 2000." "What do we do?" Dash screamed. "Tough it out." Vince snapped. "I ain't going back to stir!" He looked around. "There, that cloud. He can't see us." "He can still fucking kill us!" Dash screamed. "Sure. But he can't fire without clearance," Vince snapped back. "Local authorities don't have that kind of pull." He dived, pulling out so close to the water that it was a rippled sheet rushing past at almost 300 miles per hour. The cloud was... odd. It came down almost to the water itself, like a fogbank unwilling to touch the ocean. Something flashed past the wing, and Vince rolled, 20-millimeter cannon shells shredding the delicate surface. On moment they were flying, then, just as they entered the fog, the plane slammed into the water. ***** Roger wiped the blood from his eyes, frantically kicking the jammed door. His brother was crumpled over the wheel. Dash was unconscious. If he didn't get the door open, they would die! The metal bent, and water began to pour in. He kicked harder, and one of the hinges broke, the water becoming a flood. The other broke, the door swirling away as the flood inundated them. Roger gasped a breath, then unhooked the seatbelt that pinned Vince, shoving him toward the door. He caught Dash under the arms, kicking in a swimming stroke into the water beyond. The plane minus wings and tail drifted toward the bottom as he kicked for the surface. He came up, gasping in a breath of air, then looked around. Vince. Where was Vince? He tossed Dash up on a piece of debris, and dived. He found Vince drifting downward, and caught him by the neck, pulling him upward. He took another breath as he broke the surface, and carefully swam toward the debris where Dash still hung. It wasn't large enough to hold them all out of the water. He was sure they would die but suddenly a yellow shape burst from the depths. It was the emergency life raft automatically deploying. Carefully he rolled Vince into the raft, then retrieved Dash. Only then did he drag himself from the water. The fog was all around him, deep and dark. He sagged against the edge of the inflated boat, and found himself drifting into unconsciousness. ***** He felt a thump in his head, a massive headache from the sound of it, like a kettledrum being beaten. Again and again. He rolled on his stomach, and vomited up the seawater he had drunk during the frantic rescue. Someone spoke, he didn't recognize the voice, and hands rolled him on his back. Something was thrust into his mouth, and he coughed as brandy filled his mouth and went down his throat. He snapped upright, staring around him in shock. He wasn't in the raft. He was on a boat he had never seen outside of a fantasy movie. A Greek style Pentconter, a lot like the Viking long ships. It was long and low, and dozens of oars flashed as they lifted and stroked in time to the beating of the drum. At the bow was a carved figurehead, looking like a woman stretched in a supple arc, her hand reaching toward the forward horizon. Back where he was a figure stood at a giant oar slung off the starboard. His eyes caught on something, and he closed them, shaking his head before opening them again. A pair of bare breasts hung before his eyes, above a smooth stomach with rippling muscles and a pair of bikini bottoms. He looked upward. The woman looked Greek or Italian, long flowing curly black hair held back by a bandanna tied around her head. Unlike the boat, he recognized the Harley Davidson Logo on the cloth. "Are you back with us?" she asked. "Yeah." He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't work. She grinned, reaching down, and pulled him almost effortlessly to his feet. "Your friends are below." "Where are we?" The woman shook her head, waving. The boat was running through the same fog he had seen before he fainted. "The Mistress told us to pick up the survivors." "How did she know there were any?" "She always knows. Come on." He followed her to the hatch going below, and they went into the darkness. The narrow passageway led aft, and she threw open the door into opulent splendor. The cabin was wide, spanning the ship from side to side, and on a large bed, Vince and Dash lay unconscious. Roger checked them out, then turned back to the woman. "Who are you?" he asked. "Philomena," she said motioning toward a table set with food and drink. "I'm captain of the Mistress's pleasure barge. We will be ashore in a short while. Sit, rest." She turned, leaving the cabin. Outside, her long legged stride took her to the ladder, and she went back up on deck. She looked at the black woman on the helm. "Poor bastards," the black woman commented. ***** Roger turned as his brother moaned. The burly man squirmed, then his eyes opened, and he sat up. "I feel like shit," Vince moaned. Roger walked over, handing him a goblet of wine. "Hey bro, chug that." Vince took the container, sipped, then spat. "Wine? No beer?" "It's what they have." Vince cursed, sipping the bitter beverage. "When we get to Jamaica, I'm going to drink Red Stripe until I puke! Where's the money?" He waited, then turned an eye on his brother. "You did save the money, didn't you?" "It was the money or you two," Roger said. "You'd be fucking dead if I had thought of it first." "So we get nothing?" "We're alive, and we aren't in jail." "So we fucking get nothing." Vince stood, stalking over to the table. He snatched up a handful of grapes, stuffing them in his mouth. "I don't have the thanks of a grateful nation like you do bro. I need money." It was an old argument, and Roger wasn't in the mood. "If you're alive, you have a chance to steal more." He stormed out of the cabin. He went up the ladder, and stopped, stunned. The sun had come out, and ahead of them was a rocky island. On the spit above the cove sat a Victorian mansion. "The Lady's home," Philomena said. Roger turned. He noticed the full figured black woman at the steering oar. "That is Charon. She is our helmsman. Slow beat," she said conversationally. The drum beat slowed, and the oars matched it still. "How many people does it take to row this fucker?" Philomena looked hurt. "None. It is done with magic." "Bullshit." "Look for yourself." Philomena motioned toward the deck below. He walked down there, then stared around in amazement. The oars hung in the air as if on wires, moving to the beat of the drum. He picked up one of the drumsticks, but the beat was not affected. The other laid across the drumhead, bouncing at every stroke. "That is amazing." Her face was still cold. "I am sorry about calling the ship that." He shrugged. "I seem to hang around with the wrong people." "The one thing to remember about life here on the island is that you get out of it what you bring into it." She looked at him as if hoping he would understand the cryptic statement. "I'll try to remember that, and behave myself." The galley moved around the edge of the cove, heading now toward a pristine beach. Figures moved on the shore, and some of them headed for the area where the galley would beach. Every one of them was a woman. The drum rolled, then stopped. The oars lifted, then slid inward as the ship slid up onto the beach. Philomena ran forward, throwing the lines down to the waiting women, who tied them off to stone pillars sunk in the soft soil. A ramp was carried from the trees, and laid against the side. "Two more below!" Philomena shouted. "One is still unconscious." A dozen women ran up the ramp, and headed for the ladder leading down. Philomena motioned to Roger. "Go ahead, we will bring your friends." Roger stood, and there was a hush on the beach. The women stared at him as if they had never seen a man before. Then they began giggling and chattering to themselves. They were dressed in an odd mixture of clothing. Some wore Greek style chitons ending at mid thigh. Others bathing suits ranging from an old style single piece right down to a woman that stood there wearing a thong and nothing else. He walked down the ramp, and there was a sigh as his feet touched the sand. "Well don't just stand there!" Philomena shouted from the deck. "Take him to see the mistress." A girl who looked about seventeen came running up. She was dressed in a cute bikini that looked to be from when the garments were first made, her long brunette hair had been braided. "I am Chastity," she said, bowing her head slightly. "Please follow me." Roger followed her. His eyes caught on her cute little ass as she sashayed up the stone steps. He looked up, and blushed when he saw her slyly watching her. "Do you like my ass?" she asked. "Very nice." "I am glad, sir." She shook it again, then continued walking. The house was huge, with a stone pool behind it, sauna, hot spring, and large open spaces around it. From here he could see that the island wasn't that big. Maybe half a square mile. On the opposite side of the island he could see docks. "Why didn't the boat go to those docks?" "Our guests arrive there." She motioned toward the beach where women were carrying a stretcher down the ramp. "This is for the staff only," she said. "It's where we relax when we don't want our guests disturbing us." "Staff?" He looked at the house. It was a rambling structure that looked like it must have a hell of a lot of rooms. "How big a staff do you need for this place?" "Our mistress allows guests to come here. We service them as well as our Mistress." He looked at her. "Service them how?" "In any way they wish us to." "Wait a minute." He stopped, turning to face her. "When you say any way..." "Any way," dhe replied. "Shall I demonstrate?" "Here?" "Why not here?" she asked, moving closer. "Some of our guests enjoy such things in the open air. Or before audiences." Her hand brushed his thigh, moving around to the front. "Wouldn't you love to be in my mouth? To feel me sucking upon you? To be inside me, ramming this into my body, knowing that the others will be coming up the steps with your friends at any moment?" She chuckled, squeezing him. "I see that it does interest you." She released him, standing there expectantly. He shook his head. "I...Think we had best go on and see your mistress." She sighed, smiling as little sadly. "If you are sure." He reached out, touching her face. "Chastity, you were told to take me to see your mistress. I don't want you to get in trouble." "She would not complain if I did that first," she said softly. Her fingers ran across his crotch. "She would say that I was doing my duty." Her fingers caught the zipper. "Shall I?" When he didn't complain, the zipper hissed down, and her petite hand reached in. "Oh, it's so hard!" she gasped. She dropped to her knees, and he moaned as she began to suck him. Her hands played with the shaft, his balls, then one caught at the back of his pants, pulling him forward as her mouth sank on him. She slid up with a pop, hand sliding on him as she looked into his eyes. "Give it to me," she whispered. "Come in my mouth, drown me!" She gasped, then sucked, dropping her mouth until it brushed his pubic hair. He whimpered. It had been a long time and he wasn't ready for the rush of pleasure at her actions, His hands touched the back of her head, and she paused, looking at him. Instead of holding her head, his hands slid down cupping her face. Her eyes softened, and she began moving again, eyes locked on his as he came in her mouth. She slurped the silver beverage down then she licked him clean slid the shaft back into his pants zipping him up. He helped her up, and she put her arms around his neck, kissing him. "We must go," she said, taking his hand. ***** Vince growled as he staggered on the steps. The only thing he hated worse than the way he felt was the solicitous way these bitches were acting. He shoved yet another pair of hands away, finally reaching the top of the cliff. The House was right there, and he stormed toward it. Behind him two of the women carried Dash on the stretcher. Ahead of him he could see Roger on the porch watching. "Why the fuck did you leave us down there?" he roared. "I couldn't very well carry you both," Roger replied. "So instead you went up with the slut?" Roger stiffened, half stepping between Chastity and his brother. "Vince, don't call her that." "I'll call the bitch whatever I want to," Vince snarled. He glared at the girl. "Does his dick taste nice, whore?" Her hand reached up, and came away with a thread of semen that had escaped her mouth. She licked it from her fingers, then wrapped her arms possessively around the man beside her. "Yes he does taste nice," she replied levelly. "Jealous?" Vince stalked forward, but Roger stepped between them. "Leave her alone." "You're throwing me aside for some slit?" "Vince, I said leave her alone." "Fine." He turned around. "Where do I go from here?" he snapped. The woman at the head of the stretcher motioned with her head. "Chastity, take this... gentleman and your friend to see the Mistress. I will put this one in the red room." "Yes Felicia." Chastity motioned, then walked ahead of them. Her ass muscles were tight. Roger figured she was still pissed. The interior of the house was all dark lacquered wood and shiny paint. The decor was as ancient as the design. Heavy furniture stood in the rooms and a dining table almost twenty feet long stood in the dining room. Chastity took the hall toward the back of the house, stopping at a door. She knocked, then at an unheard command, opened the door. The room beyond was an office, and a tall statuesque woman sat at a desk. The phone on the desk was an antique loose handset with the speaker in a separate spindle right out of the 1920s. There was no sign of anything more modern in the room. She looked up, then stood. Her fiery red hair ran in a sheet down to her waist, her clothing a simple shift dress that fell to the floor. "Mistress, these are two of the survivors," Chastity reported. "The other has been taken to the Red room." The woman nodded gravely then looked at the two men. "I am Merida. Have you been well treated?" "My bro got a blowjob, but beyond that I don't think so," Vince snarled. Merida looked at the man, then at Chastity. "Was this solicited?" "I offered, Mistress." That seemed to be that as far as Merida was concerned. "Sir, hospitality upon my island is never forced. If you have not received it, you obviously have not merited it. My guests can have such things, but nothing is ever forced on my staff. Not more than once." She looked at Chastity. "Condition of the other?" "Unconscious. No other report." Merida nodded. "Gentlemen you are welcome on my island, but as I said, my patience and my mercy are not infinite. You will behave, or you will suffer the consequences. The blue room is next door to the Red room. You can both move into there until I can find a way to deal with your presence. See to it." "Yes, Mistress." "Wait a fucking minute!" Vince snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are telling us off like that?" Merida had been turning to return to her seat when Vince talked. She turned, looking at him appraisingly. "I think that this is my island, and my house. My word is law on the island, sir. Transgress, and you will discover that for yourself. Have you any other pithy comments?" Vince was taken aback. Like the character of Bill Sykes in Oliver Twist, he had never really had to beat anyone unless he felt like it. His size and rumors of his violent nature had carried him through life causing people to assume violence even when none had been overtly offered. To have a woman simply ignore that danger confused him. He turned, stalking from the room. Chastity motioned for Roger to proceed her. "Return when they are situated, Chastity. I think you and I should talk." The girl led them down the hall, then up the main staircase to the second floor. The red room was a large suite with red velvet wallpaper. Dash lay still out of it. The girl led them to the next room, which had a blue velvet trim instead. "There is clothing in the closets. I am sure you can find something in your size. The bath is there, and there are refreshments in the cabinet there." She looked at the two men. "Is there anything else I can get for you?" "Yeah, some peace and quiet, and a schedule of the boats out of here," Vince said. "I will see what I can do," she demurred. "And you sir?" she asked Roger. "When he wants his dick sucked, he'll call you." Roger shook his head. She rolled her eyes, drawing a smile out of him, and left. "Stop making eyes at the bitch. We have to get out of here." "Yes, Vince." Roger moved to the table, listening to his brother. Chastity walked past the maids that were working on the rooms on this floor. They were all dressed in the same manner. French maid style uniforms with short ruffled skirts, six-inch heels, small caps perched on their heads, ball gags locked into place. "Marina, make sure those two men have enough towels," she told the maid. The woman curtsied, head down. Chastity went down the stairs, knocking on the office door again. Merida was staring out the window when she came in. "That was not in character, Chastity," Merida said. "How often have you just initiated a sexual contact?" "I know that, Mistress," Chastity replied. "But he seemed like a nice man. I asked him what he might want, as our instructions tell us to. He was at first embarrassed. When I actually touched him he was more worried that I might get in trouble that his own satisfaction. During the act when most men force a woman's face, he merely caressed mine. It was...pleasing." "So you gave of yourself to him," Merida replied. "I think you have progressed well, my dear. It has been what, sixty years?" "Eighty, Mistress." "Soon you can move to the next level. No, not soon. Now. Have you an interest?" "Could I..." She blushed. "Could I remain on staff near this man Roger for a while yet, Mistress?" "Ah." Merida nodded. "As long as he does not transgress, you may place yourself at his disposal." "Thank you, Mistress." Up in the blue room, Vince was pacing. "Just like prison." "What you had velvet and women around you there?" Ralph asked. "Fuck you, bro. I mean being stuck and you can't get out." The older man went through the closet, and picked up a pair of shorts. "I'm going to scope out the docks. See if I can find a boat for us to heist. You watch Dash." "Right." Once Vince was gone, Ralph stepped from the room. One of the maids was walking toward him, and he walked up to her. She looked at him with doe- like eyes questioning. "Is it possible to get a beer? Or a shot of whiskey?" The girl motioned, leading him back to his room. Behind a section of wall was a full wet bar. She picked up the ice bucket, and held it up, questioningly. "I don't need ice. But thanks for the offer." Her eyes twinkled, and she gave him a deep slow curtsey before going back to her duties. He poured a single shot of bourbon, and knocked it back before going next door. Dash was lying there, eyes wide open. He looked at Ralph, and then at the room. "Are we dead?" "Nah. We were rescued by a group of women." "Women?" Ralph explained. Dash stretched, standing. "What about the money?" Ralph glared at him. "Damn it is that all you and my brother can think about? I had to get both of you out of the plane, and it was already underwater when I did! So we lost it. Sank with the plane. We can't win every time." "Hey, chill man," Dash said. "I understand. It's just this was my only chance to get away. I'll never be in that position again, and it's a little hard to take throwing your life away for nothing." He smiled sadly. "So we're surrounded by women in a whorehouse, and can do anything?" "I don't know if it's that simple. The lady who runs this place is major league creepy. She acts like she god or something. It's her island, she makes the rules, and if we break them, she punishes us." Ralph shuddered a bit. "Reminds me of my Aunt Katherine." He shrugged. "Anyway there were clothes in our closet, so there must be here." He walked over, and there was as he had anticipated, a bar. "Need ice?" "Yeah." Ralph picked up the ice bucket and walked into the hall. A maid was mincing by and he raised a hand. She flinched as if she expected him to hit her. Like the other one she had doe-like eyes, but her hair was a mass of curly blonde. "My friend needs ice," he told her. She cocked her head, then walked into the red room. She pointed at the bell on the table. "Sorry." Her eyes softened, and again he was given a slow curtsey before she walked away with the bucket in hand. "They all like that?" "Only the maids are dressed that way." "I mean the gags." "Just the maids so far." The girl returned, setting the bucket down. She looked at Ralph, lifting a glass. "Scotch and soda," Dash ordered. She made the drink, bringing it over, and curtseyed handing it to Dash. Then she looked again at Ralph. "Nothing for me thanks." She seemed to wriggle in pleasure at his tone, gracing him with another slow curtsey so unlike the one she had given Dash. "Seems you made a conquest." "No." Ralph shook his head. "It's almost like they don't get treated politely that often. She's the second one to act that way with me." "So, how do we get out of here?" "Vince is heading down to the docks. I was going to look around. If you're feeling better, you can join me." "No. I'll stay here. My legs are still a little rubbery." Ralph nodded, and left. Dash finished the drink, and got another one. He hadn't told the brothers yet, but he had a better reason for running away than just the money. He had...needs. As much as people hated child molesters, none of them fully understood the quirk of the human mind that made them. He hadn't wanted to consider children attractive, it was like a man liking blondes or fat chicks, or hell, guys. He hadn't even known about it until he'd been in the Navy. The first time he saw one of those smooth skinned girls in Cebu, he'd been hooked. They had gotten younger, then even younger. By the time he left the service, he'd slept with girls as young as seven. Unfortunately, the mores and laws were a lot different here, and he'd resisted, god knew he had. He avoided playgrounds, stayed away from schools; done everything he could to ignore them. But they were always there, taunting him with their unformed bodies, with their sweet faces, with their pert mouths. So he'd slipped. He'd grabbed a seven-year-old girl off the street and when he was done had killed her. He was terrified of prison, and she would have talked. But that had only turned his appetite into an obsession. He'd done it three more times, the girls getting progressively younger. But he'd fucked up big time on the last one. He had left enough evidence that if his DNA was ever checked he'd be on death row. He had to get away, go somewhere little girls were an allowed practice rather than illegal. There were places in South America, or in his beloved Cebu where a rich man could disappear and have his needs met for all eternity. And he wouldn't have to kill anyone else. He decided to take a walk. Maybe some sun and relaxation was what he needed. ***** Ralph stretched, standing on the porch of the house. He was trying to decide which way to go when he felt a presence behind him. He turned slowly, then smiled at Chastity. "Hello." "Were you looking for something?" Her question suggested 'someone' could have been substituted. She was dressed in a navy blue antique dress more like the uniforms worn by catholic school girls from the 20s with a neckerchief tied in the fashion the US Navy used to use. She wore flats, and her hair hung in a tight French braid to her waist. "No. I was just going to take a walk, scope the place out." "May I go with you?" The question was soft, hesitant. "Of course. But I don't know where we could go." She chuckled. "So it is all a plot. You wanted to look around, and needed a guide, and I just happened to be here." They laughed together. She took his arm, leaning into him. "Come on. I will give you the nickel tour." "Nickel?" he asked. "I thought it was the dollar tour." "Inflation," she harrumphed. "Do you want the tour or not?" "Lead on beautiful." She started at the open clearing that held the house, taking him to see the stables, the farm where cows grazed contentedly. The small vegetable garden, the much larger flower garden then to the cliff over looking the small bay where the Pentconter still lay on the beach. She took him to the trails leading toward the docks. The forest was almost a jungle, trees soaring to the heights, making the day a soft twilight. The trails meandered as if they knew they hadn't had to get anywhere fast, and the undergrowth was alive with the movement of small animals away from them. "It's a beautiful place to live," Ralph said, looking at hanging vines. "I wish I could stay forever." He didn't see the sad look on her face. "Come on, I want to show you something really wonderful." She led him to the peak of the mountain, pointing at the stream that began on the summit. Then she led him down it. After about a quarter mile it became a series of waterfalls. From the first which was too small for someone to sit in, to a pair almost back to back that were just right for one person, to another large enough for maybe three, and on down to a 200 foot drop into the bay above the docks. Far below he could see them clearly. A yacht was coming in, and he wanted to run screaming. "Guests of the mistress. In an hour or so they will be choosing their consorts for the evening. But come." She drew him back to one of the smaller falls. She stripped to her bathing suit, then stepped under the water, which began its drop mere inches above her head. "Come in, the water is fine," she called. He stripped, and they hugged beneath the water spray. She took his head, kissing him gently, then hugged him to her. Her face was down, so he couldn't see her fearful look. Please, let him be free! ***** Vince finally came back to the house. The damn paths leading from the clearing all seemed to come right back to it. None led down to the docking area, or at least none of the ones he had tried had. Now it was getting on toward sunset, and he was tired and not a little pissed off. Women moved around, a lot of them in maid's uniforms, setting out tables and cloths. Candles were stuck in deep holders, and entire squads seemed to be setting places for a dinner. They ignored him as he glared at them; except for a few who seemed to watch him with the same dread a bird would have for a snake. He went on inside, and up to his room. The ice bucket had been filled while he was gone, and a twelve pack of Bud had been stuck in the small refrigerator. He popped the top, sipping the brew as he considered what they had to do. They had to get hold of one of the guests, and have him show them the way down to the docks. Otherwise that yacht would pull out and leave them here. As much as he liked hot and cold running cunt, he didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. A cute little maid with a long ponytail of sandy colored hair minced in and began turning down the bed. Vince sneered. "Just what I need." She looked back at him, unconsciously bending over; her pert little ass aimed at him. Her head cocked as if asking him to continue. "Just the way I like 'em. Bent over and ready to be fucked." Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, standing to leave. But she could not outrun him in those heels. He took three swift paces, cutting her off from the door. "Since my brother's already dipping his wick, maybe I should get a little of it too?" She shook her head vehemently, then clasped her hands and curtsied as if to say 'please'. "I like 'em scared." He told her stepping in, causing her to step back. He kept walking forward, and she retreated trying to stay out his reach. Then the bed caught her behind the knees, and she fell back with a silenced yelp. He stepped in, grabbing her ankle, pulling her toward him as she tried desperately to pull away. But she didn't kick him. Almost as if she knew it would only make him mad. He leaned forward, and his hand locked in her panties, ripping them away. She screamed beneath her gag, and her struggles redoubled; yet still she did not hit him. "With the gag you can't suck me, but maybe this will satisfy me?" He shoved his fingers brutally into her, and she screamed again, eyes closed, face contorted with fear and loathing. "What, I'm not good enough?" He snatched her up by her bodice, his open palm exploding against her cheek. She fell backwards, and he was on her, straddling her hips, fists pummeling her stomach and face. She kept shaking her head and whining, yet her hands only clawed at the spread of the bed. There was a rip, and the front of her uniform was torn away. His fingers locked in her breasts and she sun-fished in agony. Then he lifted off her, unzipping his pants, and flopped himself out. "If that puss doesn't satisfy me, you get it next in the ass, bitch!" He moved farther down, and rammed himself into her. Suddenly her struggles ceased. Her eyes were opened on a terrible view, but didn't lock on him. He began slamming brutally into her, fists beating at her face. Her hands snapped up, catching his face, and as he watched in horror, she changed. Her body shifted, her hair exploding from sandy blonde to red, and falling now in a blood red sheet. Her body shifted, her breasts getting bigger, her legs better toned. Merida stared up at him, and the gag vanished as she was there, pinning his face in her hands. "As you would have it be," she told him. Fire seemed to leap through his nerves, and he screamed, trying to pull away from her grip on face and cock. Her face was twisted with an evil smile as he fell unconscious. ***** The maid straightened her uniform, looking at herself in the mirror. The clothes had knitted themselves back to the way they should have been, she noticed approvingly. Only now did she look at her face. The broken cheekbones re-knitting with a slight tingling feeling beneath the skin the bruises were fading as if weeks had passed, then they were gone. She picked up her gag, inserted it into her own mouth and locked it firmly. She checked that her hair was still in it's ponytail, then looked at the bed, sneering. Others would deal with that. ***** Ralph and Chastity strolled back into the clearing to witness wonder. A dozen men in everything from speedos to full tuxedos were sitting at the tables, eating. Silent maids circled the table like a school of fish, darting in to fill a glass, or supply another utensil when someone dropped them. They ignored the hands that ran across their bottoms. "Dinner time already." Chastity turned to him. "Would you like to dress formally, or would you rather just sit and eat as you are?" "I don't know." He turned kissing her gently. "How would you like me to be dressed?" "Oh formal, but not an all up tuxedo." She turned his head a bit, then turned it the other way. "I cannot see you in a tux." "Not for me." He laughed softly. "Ever since I came back from Iraq I promised myself to never wear a tie again." "A promise I fully understand," she told him. "Then a turtleneck sweater and jacket?" "Of course. And what will you be wearing?" Her smile slipped. "I do not eat with the guests. It is forbidden." "What?" "I am of the staff, but not of the serving staff. If I were here, I would have to dress as they do." She looked at him. "Do you want me to be reduced to a serving maid?" "No!" He was surprised by her sudden smile. "I just wanted to have dinner with you." "I will ask the mistress if that is allowed. I do not think it has happened in a long time," she commented. "Please, go get dressed." She shoved him gently, and she watched him go. Damn it why did he have to be so nice? She walked into the house, going to the office. She knocked, then entered. Merida was at the desk, making notes as she went through invoices. "The guests have arrived, Mistress." "So I have been informed." She looked up, then set the pen down. "What is wrong, Chastity?" "It's the man I am with. He's...nice. Nothing like his brother or the other one. I sense goodness in him." "Do you. Do you know that he and the others robbed an armored car and killed three men to steal money?" "Yes, mistress. You told us of them before they arrived. But I believe that if the facts were known, he killed no one. The others murdered them." "That is possible," Merida commented. "But that does not make him an innocent." "I never said he was Mistress. I said I sensed goodness in him." Merida smiled softly. "What would you have me do? He can escape. It has happened twice in all my years. If he can escape, he can go free. If he stays, he cannot remain as he is. You know that as well as I do." "I wish he could escape." "And you wish that you could go with him." The girl looked up, and Merida shook her head. "You know what happens to any that leave the island after as long as you have been here. All of that time crashes down in an instant. You won't turn to dust. You haven't been here long enough. But you were what sixty when you arrived? After all of this time you would be over 160 years old when you step beyond the interface. How many of those years would you have been dead?" She leaned forward. "You are part of the island as much as I am now. For us to leave is to die. "Enjoy the time you spend with him as a man. Remember what he was when the change happens, and love him as he becomes. Now was there something else?" "He wanted to have dinner with me. But I am forbidden to join the guests. What am I to do?" Merida smiled sadly then leaned forward, picking up a bell. A maid stepped in. "Candace, set up the small dining room for a romantic dinner for two." The gagged woman nodded, and left. "There. Inside the house, as you know, the rules are different than outside." Chastity stood, bowing, and left to get dressed. ***** Ralph stared at the closet in surprise. He had gone through it earlier, he knew. But the one thing he had not seen was the uniform that now hung dead center. He pulled it out, staring at it nervously. It was an army uniform, with the black beret under the epaulet, and it looked like it had all the fruit salad he had earned. Even the stripes and the unit patch on the left shoulder were right. No. He hung it back up, then chosed a pair of black slacks and dinner jacket. He laid them on the neatly turned down bed, and went to find a turtleneck. As he got dressed he wondered about Vince. He wasn't back from the docks yet. Maybe he'd already snuck aboard? Yeah and ff he did Ralph would stand on the dock and wave a fond fucking farewell. They were brothers, but Vince had always been a pain in the ass. He found some shoes, and went to the door. It opened and he stared at the beauty before him. Chastity had changed into a sheath dress in a bright blue that hugged her braless figure then hesitantly let go to fall to the floor. The neckline didn't plunge; it went into a screaming power dive that ended at her navel. Her hair had been brushed out and now fell in a brown sweep to her thighs. She wore a pair of diamond stud earrings, and a silver cross necklace. "How do I look?"she asked looking down shyly. "Beautiful." He took her hand and kissed it gently. "So what did the boss decide?" "She said the rules within the house are different from outside. Our dinner has been set in the small dining room." He extended her arm, and she draped hers through it, her other hand on her wrist. They walked to and down the stairs without looking at anything but each other. ***** The dinner was superb. It must have been Kobe beef because it was so tender and flavorful. The wine was just right, the steamed vegetables crisp, and the conversation light. Chastity avoided speaking of her past, except for her time on the island. She spoke of the staff as being four tiered. The lowest tier were the maids who cleaned and served their dinner with efficient silence. Then were the girls that tended the needs of the guests, such as she was. Then the outside staff, landscaping, gardeners, wranglers, even Philomena and Charon who ran the ship. Finally there was the concierge, wine steward accountant, chief cook and head of housekeeping. "Not much room for advancement," he commented sipping the wine. "How did you come to work here?" "I started as a maid as so many of us did. More often new staff jump straight to attendants. I was lucky in that I was not the kind to automatically do so." "What do you mean by kind?" She looked away. "The mistress tells us what our duties will be. I spent several years as a maid before she asked me if I wished to go onto personal service. By that time I would have welcomed it." "Several years?" He looked at her with an appraising eye. "So you started at what, ten?" "No. I was much older than that." "Can't be much older. You don't look a day over seventeen." She blushed. "You are too kind." She pushed aside the small plate that held merely the melted ice cream from her pie alamode. "Come, the beach is wonderful at night." They stepped into the hallway as the men poured into the house. They had been drinking heavily by what Ralph could see, and some were having trouble standing. They paused in the foyer, and every eye rose to look at the stairway. Merida stood there high enough to see everyone. "Be welcome in my home, gentlemen. Before you run off and merely grab the nearest woman, please speak with the concierge. She will assure your... specific needs are met. Remember that nothing is taken from my women unless it is given willingly." "What if we like it a bit rough?" a huge hulking man snarled. "Sir, we have girls who are trained for such exuberant sex. If I may..." The concierge clapped her hands. Pairs of women came from a door farther down the hall. Each pair was one woman dressed in leather, holding the leash of another woman that was manacled. Ralph watched in amazement as they began to pass him. Suddenly a woman broke from the line, catching Ralph by the lapels, trying to pull him forward as she screamed at him. She had green eyes, long blonde hair, and a wild-eyed expression. The dominatrix behind her pulled, and the choke chain bit into her neck. "Already misbehaving Valerie?" she hissed. She looked up, cold brown eyes looking from a finely boned face. She bowed her head a little, her plaited sandy brown hair jerking with her head, but her eyes never left Ralph. "My apologies, sir. Some of our girls are a bit...fractious." She pulled the collar until Valerie fell to her knees, letting Ralph go. "If you will go, sir? She is more easily handled without someone else within arm's reach." Chastity pulled him down the hall as the man that had commented about liking it rough walked down the line of women. "I think that one." He pointed at Valerie. "I like 'em with spirit." He caught her chin, looking into her terrified eyes. "Makes it so much more fun when you break them." "There are girls that like that?" Ralph asked. "She looked scared out of her mind!" "Part of the training. The Mistress chooses women for such duties who show a natural bent for it." She hedged. "There are fewer of them than we used to have at least. There have been times I was told where half of the girls had to like it rough. Thank God it isn't like that any longer." "I never considered the ins and outs of this business. Everything I have seen of it suggests that a man would just walk into a room full of scantily clad women and just pick the one he liked best." "In some places, perhaps. But not here." As two or three of the men chosed women from the rough and tumble section, the others chosed from other selections. If their bent was anal sex, there were girls that did that, oral sex, normal sex, and even those that had been willing to do just about everything, who were the largest draw. "Which section were you in?" Ralph asked. Chastity stopped, looking deep into his eyes. "I only gave oral sex." "So you're a virgin?" She nodded, her hand dropping to his belt. She could feel him pressing against her hand. "That appeals to you I see?" "Not with everyone," he protested. "It's just thinking of you being a virgin that..." He shrugged helplessly. "Would you like to correct that?" she husked. "You mean..." She nodded gently, rubbing him through the cloth. "Yes. With you I would do anything." She took his hand, and led him up the stairs. ***** Dash had drunk his dinner, and had a pretty good buzz on. He'd heard the announcement, and sat for almost an hour thinking about it. Finally he picked up the bell and rang it. The door opened, and the maid came in. "I'm allowed to sample the girls, right?" The woman gravely nodded. "How young can I get here?" The woman cocked her head, then raised a hand to signal for him to wait. Then she was gone. A few moments later, Merida appeared. "You wish a young girl. How young were you thinking?" "I don't know. Ten maybe." "There are none her of that age at the present except for children of the staff, and they are not on the service roster sir. I can bring a girl that can pretend-" "Spare me, bitch. No twenty-year-old with a shaved cunt can compare. Leave me alone." Merida's eyes had grown cold at his diatribe, but she merely nodded, and left. Dash poured another drink, and sat sipping it. Vince was probably getting laid, Ralph definitely was. But he? He threw the glass across the room, then rang the bell again. The maid came in, saw the mess, and hastened toward it. "Leave it you fat cow. Where are the staff quarters?" She shrugged with a look that said 'why'? "Because I want something the bitch won't supply, that's why. Where do you bitches sleep at night?" The woman pointed upward. "Third floor?" She shook her head, and raised four fingers. "Fine. Now get the fuck out." She motioned toward the mess. "I said leave it you bitch!" She hurried out, and Dash grabbed a glass, and poured himself another drink. He shot it back, then left the room. He walked up the stairs, then the next set. The floor seemed...bigger than he would have thought. The doors were the same distance apart, but there seemed to be a hell of a lot of them. He walked along, listening at doors as he did. Ahead he heard something, and he paused. A lullaby. He found a door that led into a closet for cleaning supplies, and stepped in, closing the door except for half an inch. Farther down the hall, a woman stepped from a door, speaking to someone who remained in the room. Then she walked briskly past where he hid. He waited until she was gone, then stalked to the door. He pushed it open, seeing a room of bunk beds with small heads lying on their pillows. One girl of about five lay there with the covers kicked off her, her small prepubescent body making him painfully hard. He crept across the room, and her eyes snapped open as his hand slammed down on her mouth "Hello, bitch," he snarled. ***** Ralph laid on the bed, naked under the sheets. She was taking an awful long time in the bathroom. Maybe she had decided to run like hell... The door opened, and she stood there, haloed by the lights behind her. Then they went off. Only candlelight touched her now. She was nude, standing there self-consciously, her hands trying to cover her as she blushed. "No," he said. "You are beautiful and your body is beautiful. Please, let me see you." She flushed even deeper, and her hands dropped hesitantly. Her breasts were not large; in fact he would have almost said she had tiny titties. But her hips filled out nicely, and her hair merely accented her form. There was a narrow triangle of public hair. Obviously that antique bikini was all she ever wore to the beach, because there was no sign of a bikini wax. He rolled out of the bed, walking over to face her. He started to reach out, but he stopped. "May I?" Her eyes softened, and she nodded. His fingers brushed her nipple and she whimpered at the sensation. Her hands came up, holding his to her breast, and her eyes opened shining. "Please. Love me," she whispered. ***** Down in the basement, the man finished, spitting on the shuddering little bitch. "You're not as good as I would have liked." He kicked Valerie, feeling satisfaction as ribs broke. "But you were an excellent sperm bank in any case." He picked up his clothes, walking out. The dominatrix came in, nudging the girl onto her back. "You'll be fully healed by morning." She knelt, eyes satisfied. "Maybe next time, you'll think before you just shove yourself into someone, eh Vince?" She pulled up the shredded panties. "But for tonight and every night you get used, you can feel what all those other women felt." ***** Chastity purred as she held her man to her. She had heard horror stories about what had just happened. A lot of men received little or no training in sex before they became active, and more pain was caused by men that didn't think about that than any other source in human existence. Ralph had been careful, gentle, bringing her to an orgasm before he had ever thought to insert himself. She was on her third; a shocking multiple that had her screaming when he had broken her hymen. One brief ouch in an ocean of enjoyment. Then he had begun to actually make love to her, and she had gasped at his willingness to please her before anything else. The method he had used as so gentle and loving that she found herself hungry for more. She had brought him back to hardness three times, and each time accepted his offering with the love with which it had been given. Now he was sated, but inside she felt the burning need feel him inside one more time. But she knew the rules, as did every girl that was here. Force was not allowed, from either side. She could be punished just as efficiently as his two friends. She so wanted to sleep here beside him, but again, that was something for which she should have asked permission. Besides, she wanted to remember him as he was. She kissed his sleeping face gently, then picked up her clothing and shoes. She walked up to the third floor, then up to the fourth. A small figure of a seven-year-old girl with long black hair, a dark olive complexion and almond eyes came running up, grabbing Chastity's hand. "Nasaan Ralph? ako ay sabuyan! Sanhi gumawa ka hindi kilalanin ako? tumulong!"she wailed. A large woman that looked Samoan came from the nursery, shaking her head. "Still misbehaving, Dash?" she asked in heavily accented English, then repeated it in Tagalog. The terrified little girl tried to push back behind Chastity repeating 'tumulong'. The words for help me. The woman walked up, catching the girl by the ear. "She's going to spend a long time that size. We haven't had a child molester here in what, three, four years?" "At least," Chastity replied. "Well, I leave you to your duty." "My pleasure you mean," the woman snarled. "His kind almost ruined me when I was a child." ***** Ralph came awake with a bemused expression. He felt wonderful. The sun was bright beyond the curtains, and he stretched luxuriantly. The door opened, and a maid sashayed in, opening the curtains all the way. She turned, looking confused for a moment, then bowed, making the motions for eating. "Thank you, I'll be right down." The girl wriggled like a puppy wanting to be petted, and he smiled as he got another one of those deep curtsies. Why were they all so pleased that he was polite? He wondered. Then he remembered the dinner, the roving hands. They had ignored them, but he was willing to bet they remembered every such slight. He dressed, wondering where Vince had gotten off to. If they wanted to find someone to hate, he would be the most likely candidate. He knocked on the next door, then opened it, but Dash was not there. Dash was a strange one. He shrugged, then went down the stairs. The tables outside had been reset, and the guests were out there. But a maid on the porch stopped him, waving him toward the interior. He followed the girl to the small dining room, where both Merida and Chastity sat. "Come, sit," Merida said softly. Ralph looked at the women, then at the maid. "Thank you kindly," He told the girl. Again the little wriggle of pleasure, again the deep bow, and she was gone. Ralph stepped over, pulling out the chair beside Chastity. She seemed to shrink a little at that, but brightened when he touched her hand. "Last night was wonderful," he whispered. "Last night is exactly what the problem is, my dear man," Merida told him. "Please, eat." A maid came in, delivering a plate of bacon eggs, hash browns, biscuits and gravy. Exactly what he liked for breakfast. He thanked her, and received another deep curtsey. "Why is that a problem?" he asked. "What do you know of the old Greek legends?" "Nothing, actually," he admitted. The hash browns were perfect. "Do you at least know Homer's work?" "The Iliad and the Odyssey? I have heard of them, but I have never read anything." He snapped his fingers. "Wait, about ten years ago, they made a miniseries of both of them separately." "Did you happen to watch the 'miniseries' Odyssey?" "Some of it. I remember Vanessa Williams was in it." "Do you remember the witch Circe?" "Yeah. Didn't like the actress they used. Too old in my book." "Do you remember what she was best known for?"she asked more persistently. "Didn't she turn men into animals?" "Yes," she finally sighed. "I used to do that. Men were such pigs, and a number of them became pigs. But I grew bored with that. I found I had more fun making the punishment fit the crime as it were." "Wait a minute." He set down the utensils. "You're saying you are Circe?" "In the flesh my dear man." "And this is what, you most recent way to mess with the human race?" "Only the male portion of it," she replied. He stared at her, then picked up his utensils again. "Funny, you don't look crazy." He stuffed a portion of pork sausage into his mouth, then paused. She gave him a bright smile. "No, I don't turn them into pigs anymore." He finished the meal, and picked up his coffee. "All right, what do you turn them into?" "Where do you think I gain my staff?" she asked. He stared at her then his head turned to Chastity, who was trying to disappear without moving. "So Chastity is, or was, a man?" "Oh my yes. What was your name again dear?" "I was Hiram Eubanks, a rumrunner during prohibition. My boat got shot up, and I ended up here. That was in 1926." He looked at her for a long moment. "Funny, you don't look a day over 140." She stared at him, then grinned. "Such a polite person. And that is the problem," Merida said. "When Chastity arrived as you did, she sampled the girls because she was told she could. She did not harm the girl she chosed, so she was made as you see her now, and became one of the maid staff. You see, except for guests, every man on my island becomes a woman in the end. Except you. "You see, you did not ask to sample the women here. Every time you were with her, she gave of herself willingly, asking you instead. It was your gentle way in introducing her into womanhood that allowed you to keep your form." "Odysseus didn't change either, if I recall. Neither did Anaeas." "Oh good at least you remember some of the legends. Odysseus had help from the gods, and Anaeas had his quick brain and an aversion to wine. But only two men that were not invited to my island have ever left it." "That means that if I can find a way, I can go?" "Oh yes. There is nothing that will hold you here if you escape." "Then have Philomena drop me in the ocean, and I will be out of your hair." He looked at Chastity. "Coming, darling?" "I...I can't," Chastity cried. "She really cannot," Merida said. "You have to remember that here, time has no meaning. But once you step beyond my shore, you will begin to age again. In her case, all of those years will catch up to her in moments. She will age and die before your eyes. So if leave you will, you must leave alone." Ralph looked at the crying girl, then his arms enfolded her. "I can't leave her here. There must be some way." "There is," Merida said after a moment. "You can be together as you are for as long as you wish." ***** The guest walked along the garden trying to walk off the calories he'd eaten. The house was one hell of a brothel, and he expected to get laid tonight. They had told him they had a sweet little seven year old Filipino in there, and he'd always wanted to pop a cherry that young. He sat on the bench, sighing deeply. God this was the life! A maid came up, then motioned toward the house. The man harrumphed, pinched her ass, then walked away. She watched him coldly, then looked at the statue. It stood in the center of the garden. A man and a woman, nude, embracing. The woman's face was upturned, eyes half closed, lips pursed as if asking for a kiss. The man was looking down, his face filled with so much love that a human man could not have held it all in. The maid's eyes gleamed, then she gave a deep slow curtsy before returning to her duties.