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Message-ID: <35293asstr$1014009011@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Highlander JM" <highlanderjm@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} (NEW!) "Island Paradise: The Legacy"  Chapter 14
Date: Mon, 18 Feb 2002 00:10:11 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d






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<1st attachment, "ipl-14.txt" begin>

(IPL-14.TXT)

____________________________________________________________

Story Name: "Island Paradise: The Legacy"  (Part 14 of ??) -
               M/F, F/F & just about everything else
_____________________________________________________________


   "I'm scared, Jeremy," Amy cringed, her hand trembling as
she held onto my wrist rather tightly.  Resting in a Lima
hospital bed just hours after her mysterious collapse on the
island, Amy had a large assortment of wires, all connected
to health monitoring equipment, attached to her body.
   "Oh God..." Amy whined, her hand grabbing my wrist even
tighter.  "They said it could be my heart, Jeremy."
   I shook my head in response at her, while Lindsay and
Stephanie looked on from just behind me.  "The doctors have
no idea why you fainted," I reminded Amy, trying to keep her
spirits up.  "It could have been anything.  Don't go thinking
that it is your heart.  You have to stay positive, Amy."
   "How do I know if these doctors are any good?" she asked,
obviously worried.  "They don't even speak English!  I think
I want to go home to California and have a doctor look at me
there.  I... I'd feel safer there."
   "The doctors at this hospital are excellent," I told her.
"If they weren't, I would have told the rescue chopper to
take you someplace else.  Trust me.  You're in good hands.
I've been to this hospital before, myself."
   "Well... okay," Amy offered, still showing trepidation.
"I do trust you, Jeremy."  The 27-year-old lifted her head
and glanced at her body.  "I look like a human electrical
socket with all these wires.  I don't like it, Jeremy."
   "You'll be fine," Lindsay murmured, stepping forward and
running her hand across Amy's face.  "These doctors will
take good care of you, and find out what the problem is."
   "It's not your heart," Stephanie offered, temporarily
having shed away from her submissive lifestyle.  Wearing a
summer dress and windbreaker jacket, the shapely brunette
looked fabulous.  "I have faith it's not your heart."
   "You could have just had a reaction to being underwater
for an extended period of time," Lindsay suggested.  "But I
don't know.  It really could be nothing.  The doctors will
find out what it is, and correct it."
   "I'm just so scared..." Amy reiterated.  "My heart..."

   "Tengo que pedir que usted ahora se vaya," the Peruvian
doctor commented as he bristled into the hospital room.
"Debemos ejecutar mas pruebas en el paciente."
   I nodded at the man, understanding his Spanish words.
"Come on, girls," I said to Lindsay and Stephanie.  "The
doctor needs to run some more tests on Amy."
   "You're not leaving, are you?" Amy whined, now holding
onto my wrist with a vice-tight grip.
   "We're just going to the waiting room," I said, my smile
warm and friendly.  "We're not going to leave until they
find out what is wrong with you.  I promise you that."  I
leaned over and planted a gentle kiss upon the pornstar's
forehead.  "I trust you'll be fine, dear."

                           * * *

   After Lindsay literally broke through the door of our
private suite hours ago, telling me that Amy had collapsed,
Devon immediately called the mainland paramedics and asked
them to get a helicopter here as soon as possible.  At the
same time, I ran off to the room, along with Lindsay, that
Amy and Stephanie shared together.
   But instead of finding her in an unconscious heap upon
the floor, Amy was sitting up and holding her head.  Quite
the stubborn type, she scoffed when I said paramedics were
on their way.  Amy insisted that she was perfectly fine.  I
was not about to give in to her this time, though.  I put my
foot down and TOLD Amy that she was going to the hospital.
There was NOTHING she could say to change my mind.
   Having been in the middle of a three-way sexual encounter
also involving Lindsay and Stephanie, Amy agreed to go with
the paramedics but was not too thrilled about it.  We helped
Amy get dressed, then I drove her to the helicopter landing
pad on the other side of the island.  A minute later, the
rescue chopper arrived and whisked Amy off to the mainland.
   Devon agreed to stay on the island with Christina, Lisa
and Jessica, while Lindsay and Stephanie joined me as we set
sail for Peru.  An hour later, we arrived at the harbor in
Lima and took a bus to the hospital.  The initial news I
heard about Amy from the doctors was quite horrifying.
   They told me that during the helicopter ride, Amy passed
out a second time.  Amy had been revived by the paramedics,
and was now shot up with all sorts of medication as she lay
connected to monitoring equipment in a hospital room.  They
did not know what the exact problem was, but were going to
focus the initial tests on her heart.  They stressed to me
that this did not necessarily mean anything was wrong with
her heart.  It was just the starting point for their tests.
   I was glad that neither Lindsay or Stephanie knew how to
speak Spanish.  If they did, I'm certain that they would
have broke down and started crying once hearing that Amy had
fainted a second time.  I was able to translate the words
for them into such a way that did not seem so frightening.
Amy had blacked out a second time, indeed, but was quickly
revived and was now in stable condition.
   The primary doctor said we could visit her a bit later,
but only for a few minutes.  The three of us sat idly by in
the waiting room for two hours until a nurse emerged and
finally offered us access to Amy's room.

   But now with that visit over, Lindsay, Stephanie and yours
truly ventured back to the waiting room.  There was a lot to
think about.  What if it WAS Amy's heart?  What if she were
to enter cardiac arrest?  What if the unthinkable happened as
a result?  I really rather not go into any great detail about
it.  No matter what, this was going to be a LONG night...

                           * * *

   When we first returned to the waiting room, Lindsay and
(especially) Stephanie were on pins and needles.  They were
worried sick about Amy - and for good reason.  I tried my
best to the one who was calm and level-headed about it all.
If I let my true worries be known, I'm sure it would have
done nothing but make Lindsay and Stephanie feel even worse.
I put on a strong face and tried helping them stay positive.
   Hours later, however, as the big wall clock read 2:30am,
the fears of Lindsay and Stephanie had temporarily vanished.
That was because both of them were sleeping.  Lindsay was
curled up next to me as we lounged upon a sofa, while
Stephanie was slumped down in a nearby chair.  The brunette
had earlier tried her best to stay awake, but failed.
   I was teetering on the edge of falling asleep myself, but
knew that I had somehow stay awake and wait for word from
the doctor.  I thought it was okay for two out of three to
fall asleep while Amy may have been in peril - especially at
such an unholy hour like this.  But if all three of us dozed
off together, I would have felt awful.  No matter how utterly
exhausted I was, I had to stay awake - for Amy's sake.
   Fortunately, the doctor finally came to us with some news.
As Lindsay and Stephanie continued sleeping, I felt as though
the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders as
the doctor said there were no direct problems with Amy's
heart.  Amy had fainted twice, he believed, because she
suffered from two very treatable health conditions - low
blood pressure and hyperthyroidism.
   The doctor explained to me that Amy's blood pressure was
at a level which was not safe.  It was extremely low, but
could be taken care quite easily.  He said the reason for
her low blood pressure was most likely linked to a greater
problem - an overactive thyroid gland.
   Without going into intricate, technical detail here, the
doctor basically said that an excessive amount of blood
was being pumped through the arteries of Amy's heart.  Her
thyroid was producing too many hormones and as a result,
throwing off the metabolism rate of her body - and causing
the rapid blood flow through her arteries.  Fortunately,
there was no direct damage with her heart itself.
   There were several ways to attack an overactive thyroid,
the doctor said.  Some prefer radioactive iodine, but he
thought traditional medicine would be the better route.  By
regulating her thyroid gland with medication, the doctor
told me, Amy's blood pressure would increase to a far more
desirable level.  The medicine would take care of that.
   The doctor made me promise that I would have Amy back at
the hospital one week from now so she could undergo further
testing.  He did not need to ask twice.  They will check her
out, he said, and adjust her medication dosage if necessary.
   The doctor suggested that I take Lindsay and Stephanie
home for the night.  Amy was fast asleep because of the
medication and besides, he wanted to keep the red-head at
the hospital overnight so they could monitor her.  Barring
an unforeseen event, Amy would be released in the morning.

   After I shook hands with the man and thanked him, he went
back to his duties as I awakened both Lindsay and Stephanie.
The ladies were quite groggy, but aware of the fact that Amy
seemed to be safe.  I told them we could pick Amy up in the
morning and take her back to the island.
   Instead of returning there ourselves right now, I opted
for the hotel across the street.  I paid for a room, and
the three of us literally dragged our way up the steps to
it.  I was so tired that after entering the room and locking
its door, I fell upon the bed and was out like a light.

   Three hours later, however, I was cruelly jarred from my
sleep by Lindsay, who continually prodded my shoulder with
her hand.  Although the desk clock next to us read 6:00am,
Lindsay was wide awake and demanded to the know the exact
specifics of Amy's condition.  "I'm more awake now," she
said.  "I want you to tell me everything."  I sat up in bed
and then realized that Stephanie was awake, too, with a
curious look upon her face as she glared expectantly at me.

                           * * *

   "Why don't you have a doctor?" I asked Amy, straddling
her lower back some 15 hours later, as she rested front-down
upon the big, comfortable bed within my personal suite.  We
had returned to the island around noon-time, and I saw to it
that Amy did absolutely nothing strenuous today.  I had even
convinced Lindsay and Devon to spend the evening elsewhere,
so I could look after Amy myself tonight.
   "I never thought I needed a doctor," she replied, as I
used both hands to gingerly massage her shoulders.  She
writhed in relaxed pleasure as I was seated over the small
of her back, my hands working upon her tense shoulders.
"Besides, I'm a pornstar.  Pornstars don't get insurance.
It's not a benefit of the job."
   "You have plenty of money to pay for a doctor's visit out
of your own pocket," I told her.  "You're one of the highest
paid X-rated actresses out there - you make $30,000 per film.
You have a successful website, you dance and strip on the
road, you do autograph and meet sessions.  I gave you four
and a half million dollars myself.  Plenty of money."
   "I didn't want to pay hundreds of dollars out of my own
pocket for a doctor to look at me for 10 or 15 minutes, and
say I was in good health," Amy countered.  "Maybe even
thousands.  I never thought anything was wrong with me.  I
guess I thought I was immune, despite having these symptoms
the doctor told me about today.  Muscle spasms, weakness,
feeling nervous."  She paused and added, "I'll be forced to
get my own insurance now.  I may have to be on thyroid
medication for the rest of my life.  I just hate pills."
   "You could have solved this problem such a long time ago,
though, if you just went to the doctor," I offered.  "You
should go at least once a year, Amy."
   "I haven't had a physical since I was 19," she pouted.
"I'm 28 now.  Some birthday today for me, huh?  I wake up
in a hospital bed the night after passing out twice."
   "You're going to have a full physical next week," I told
her.  "I'm going to pay for it."
   "You don't have to do that, Jeremy," Amy returned, gently
shaking her head.  "I will pay for it."
   "It really doesn't matter who pays for it," I said.  "All
that matters is that you get one.  A thorough check-up."
   "I bet everyone is disappointed," Amy mused.  "Today is
my birthday, and I'm sure you had those group of guys lined
up for us, Jeremy.  You did it last year on my birthday, as
well as Torrie's and later Lindsay's.  Big gang-bangs.  I'll
have to apologize to everyone for ruining it for them."
   "You didn't ruin anything," I told her.  "You can't blame
yourself for having a faulty thyroid.  Many people do.  I
have one too, dear.  But not quite as bad as yours.  I do
have to take daily medication for it, though."  I smiled and
added, "Maybe the birthday gang-bang can be next week."
   "Just forget it," Amy told me, a bit of sudden anger in
her voice.  "Well, don't do it on my account."
   "Forget it?" I asked, shocked by her words.  "Are you
actually foregoing the chance of 12 to 15 men at once?"
   "Yeah, I am," she replied, her tone now irritatible.  "I
don't really care if they show up or not."

   Now I was completely stunned.

   "Amy?" I said, sliding off of her back and taking a seat
next to her on the bed.  "What's gotten into you?"  I rubbed
her face and said, "You love men.  You love having sex.  Are
you feeling okay?  What's wrong?"  I half-jokingly asked,
"You didn't hit your head when you fell... did you?"
   My heart sank in my chest as a tear streaked down Amy's
face.  She shook her head and told me, "I didn't know what
was going on last night.  I felt like a lab rat with all
those wires connected to me.  I... I really didn't even know
if I would survive the night.  Would I... be alive... in the
morning?"  Tears began streaming from her eyes as she added,
"My whole life and everything about it flashed before me last
night.  What was important and what wasn't.  It... my life...
I'm... I'm nothing, Jeremy.  Nothing at all..."
   "What?" I asked, now even more stunned, as I laid down
upon my side so I could look at Amy face-to-face.  The tears
were very prevalent now.  "What do you mean?"  I reached out
with my right hand and gently touched her shoulder.
   "Look at me," she quietly sobbed.  "I'm Aimee Embers, the
world-famous pornstar.  I fuck anything that moves.  Sex is
more important to me than anything else.  I have no feelings
or emotions.  I say nasty, hurtful things.  I don't care
about anyone else.  No one cares about me."  She paused and
whined, "That's... that's what people think of me."

   After a short pause, during which time I tried to sort
through my thoughts, I offered, "I care about you, Amy."

   "No you don't," she spat back.  "No one does!  No one has
ever really cared about me!  You, Jeremy, you..."  She shook
her head and cried harder, her words fading away.
   "I DO care about you," I told her, my voice firm and
strong.  "Lindsay cares about you.  Stephanie thinks the
absolute world of you.  She worships the ground you walk on.
How can you honestly say people don't care about you?"
   "Stephanie is in love with Aimee Embers," she told me.
"Aimee Embers is my professional persona.  Stephanie is not
in love with Amy (last name) - who I really am.
   "The two have always seemed to go hand-in-hand," I said,
hoping those words would not upset her.  "You're really not
too different in real life, Amy, than you are on screen."
   "That's not true," Amy countered defensively.  "Everything
I do is a big act.  I've always loved to shock people and get
reactions.  No one ever liked the real me..."  She shook her
head and continued, "So I became Aimee Embers, really, on a
full-time basis.  I could get more attention this way.  I
became a pornstar 24 hours a day.  I thought people would
like a sex-starved nymphomaniac.  They do, but I've gone way
too far with it.  I'm insensitive, very uncaring.  I see how
the other girls on the island look at me.  Jessica is scared
to death of me, and what I'll do to her."  Amy cried harder
as she concluded, "They think I have no heart or emotions.
They all hate me!  All of them..."

   I was speechless.  I had no response for what she had
just said to me.  None whatsoever.

   "Lindsay is just the opposite of Jessica," Amy went on.
"She is excited about what I'll do to her.  I get reactions
and shock value out of her.  I thrive on reactions.  That's
why I treat her the way I do.  The rougher I am, the better
reaction I get from Lindsay.  But... she don't care about me
as a person.  Lindsay only cares what I'll do to her next."
   "No..." I finally said, shaking my head.  "No.  Lindsay
does care about you.  I know she does.  But even more than
that, I know that *I* care about you.  I always have, Amy."
   "You squirm whenever I talk nasty," she countered.  "You
have always been scared, Jeremy, that I would persuade your
women into porn.  First I tried Lindsay, then Pamela.  And
now, Lindsay again.  You never liked me talking about your
girls the way I did.  Yet... I kept doing it.  I kept doing
it because I loved seeing you squirm over it."
   Amy paused and added, "I don't want Lindsay to get into
porn."  My eyes grew wide at those words.  Quite simply, I
could not believe what she had just said.  It went against
everything she had clamored about over the past year.
   Sensing my reaction, Amy quickly said, "If Lindsay got
into porn, it would destroy her - just like it did me.  I
just like to hear her squeal and turn me down each time.
That is the only reason why I keep asking her."
   "How did porn destroy you?" I asked, mightily confused.
Not much of what Amy was saying made any sense.  "You love
being a pornstar.  At least... I thought you did."
   "Porn isn't what I thought it would be," she replied, her
tone hushed.  "Sex became a job for me.  I thought I would
like that, but I didn't."  She paused and asked, "Do you know
that after each of those gang-bangs I star in on screen, I
have to take pain killers?  I hurt that much afterwards."
   My eyes narrowed at the realization.  "Where do you get
pain killers, if you don't have a doctor to prescribe them?"
   "A director friend supplies me with them," Amy answered.
"Let's say your typical porno stud has a 12 inch cock.  If I
gang-bang ten of them, that's 120 inches of cock inside of
me over 30, 40 minutes."  I gulped my throat at those words.
"It hurts, Jeremy.  I need the pain killers.  But no one
should be forced to take pain killers after sex."
   "Then why do the gang-bang scenes?" I wondered.  "Surely,
you could stick to one-on-one or two-on-one scenes."
   "My agent told me I have no chance of surviving in porn
unless I do frequent gang-bangs," Amy offered.  "I'd never
have anything more than a supporting role without them.
Eventually, I would just fade away."
   "I don't believe that," I said, shaking my head.
   "It's true," she offered.  "It's very true.  My biggest
problem was I took on 14 guys in my first-ever movie.  All
of the fans loved it so much, they wanted more of the same.
I was quickly labeled a gang-bang-queen.  My agent told me
if I wanted to make money, I had to keep doing gang-bangs."
   "Problem was," she continued, "I couldn't walk for four
or five days after that first movie.  I'm serious.  I had
never been with so many men before who were that huge.  I
took all of them on - in every orifice.  They literally
ripped my whole body to shreds.  I... I felt so dirty and
used.  But... I had to continue.  This was the career I had
chosen for myself.  No turning back now."
   Amy shook her head and added, "I'm really ashamed of
myself, and what I've become, Jeremy.  I'm not happy at all.
Actually... I'm very depressed.  I'm so far into being this
bitch queen that no matter what, no one will ever like me
for who I really am.  Then again, no one ever liked me in
the first place.  I'm just a worthless use of space."
   "No..." I said, shaking my head.  "How can you say that,
Amy?  You're upset now.  You don't really feel this way."
   "YES I DO!" she exploded, sitting up and glaring at me
now.  "I've always felt this way!  When I was in high school
and beyond, the only way I could get people to notice me was
to have sex with them!  No one ever took the time to look at
me as an actual person, and care about me!  I was nothing
more than an object to them!  A cheap thrill!"  Amy went into
a crying fit as she concluded, "All I've ever wanted was for
someone to look at me and say, you're a good person..."
   "I've always felt that way about you, Amy," I told her.
   "You're lying," she countered, on the defensive again.
   "No I'm not.  I wouldn't lie to you, Amy.  I don't lie to
anyone.  You know how much I hate dishonesty."
   "You think I'm a good person?" she asked, skeptical.
   "Absolutely," I replied.  "I've thought that since first
getting to know you last year.  Now I have also thought that
you were overly aggressive and quite fiendish - and yes, a
slut - but I always thought you were a good person.  I've
often wondered why it seems that I'm the only one who looks
at you this way.  I've also had the sense at times you were
trying to hide that good person underneath your aggression."
   Amy went silent, appearing lost in thought.  So I went on
saying, "Look at you, dear.  You're a beautiful woman.  Red
hair, a model's face... a killer body.  You may not be the
most outgoing or friendliest of people, but the right man...
or woman, would have come along for you eventually.  They
would have seen you the very way I see you - as an honest,
good person.  You didn't have to become the class slut in
school, or the gang-bang-queen in X-rated movies."
   "Why try to impress people who are not even worth your
time?" I asked her.  "You said no one cared about you in
high school, so you resorted to slutting.  Why?  To get them
to notice you?  For what?  If that was all they wanted from
you, Amy, they weren't worth it.  You're better than that."
   "How can you say that?" she wondered, her voice cracking.
My words were definitely having a profound effect on her.
   "Because it's the truth," I answered.  "I think you're a
good person, Amy.  I always have."  I paused and added, "You
would NOT be welcome on this island if I thought otherwise,
or I did not care about you.  I wouldn't invite someone to my
island, Amy, if I did not like them or thought they were a
bad person.  Get the idea that I don't care about you out of
your head, because it's wrong.  I DO care about you."
   Amy was silent again.  "Lindsay cares about you, too," I
went on.  "Now I admit, your relationship with her is based
on sex and fulfillment.  But still, Lindsay cares about you.
After you passed out last night, she was absolutely frantic.
Lindsay was crying; she was scared to death for your safety.
She came busting in here and demanded that we get you to the
hospital as quickly as possible."
   "Really?" Amy asked, her spirits suddenly raising.
   "Really," I told her.  "Now I can't speak so much for
Stephanie, but it does SEEM that she loves you, too."
   "No," Amy countered.  "Stephanie is in love with Aimee
Embers the pornstar, not Amy (last name) the person.  You
won't get me on this one, Jeremy.  I know it.  She was a
star-struck fan when we first met one another.  She still
is.  Stephanie is having a wild ride with her favorite
pornstar of all-time, and is loving it.  But... she doesn't
love me as a person.  She never has - and never will."
   "I just don't see that," were my words.
   "I'm not really like this," Amy continued.  "Now I do
love sex.  I'll try anything once; I love to experiment.
But I'm not this bitch Dominatrix that I portray all the
time.  I'm dominant with Stephanie because since the first
time I ever put her into bondage - simply to experiment and
have fun - she has begged me to be harder and more rough
with her.  Whip me harder, talk down to me like I'm a slut.
Stephanie continually begged me for that.  Stephanie said
that all submissives should be kept nude.  That's the only
reason she hardly ever wears any clothing.  She says
submissives should also eat their food on the floor..."
   Amy paused before continuing, "I'm not this type of
person.  But you know what, Jeremy?  I eventually gave
into Stephanie and what she wanted from me.  I became her
full-time Domme.  Why?  Because I knew if I didn't give
her what she wanted, Stephanie would leave me and find
someone who would."  Amy shook her head and let out a
cry, finishing, "Then I'd be completely alone."
   I gulped my throat at the sudden realization.  For weeks,
I had wondered whether or not Stephanie was truly happy and
content in her role as a submissive.  Something just did not
seem right about their relationship.  I openly wondered if
the voluptuous brunette secretly wanted out of the lifestyle.
Did she really want to stay with Amy?
   But now, however, I had the answer to this whole problem.

   Stephanie wasn't the unwilling participant.  _AMY_ was...

   "I don't wa-want to be alone..." the red-head shrieked.
"That's why I gave into Stephanie and treated her the way
she wanted.  Without her, I'd have no one."  Amy sniffed her
nose and added, "You know that sometimes, I would make her
lay in bed with me at night.  I... I'd do nothing but hold
her.  No sex, no groping... just a simple hug.  A long one.
But it meant so much to me!  It felt so warm and wonderful!
It... it was the first time anyone ever hugged me like that.
But I had to force her to do it..."
   "I... I don't know what to say," was my honest response.
I took a moment to collect my thoughts before commenting, "I
didn't realize how lonely you really are, Amy."

   "The doctor told me that I was lucky I got to the hospital
as soon as I did last night.  He said if not, I could have
been a lot worse off.  Maybe even dead."  Amy hesitated and
told me, "I might be better off that way."
   "NO!" I countered emphatically, shaking my head.  "Don't
think that way, Amy!  Get that thought out of your head!
Life is too precious.  It should be cherished!"
   "But why?" she cried.  "I just feel so worthless."
   "I'd miss you so much, Amy, if you died last night."  As
I said those words, I could not believe the conversation we
were having.  Amy was supposed to be the self-assured, very
confidant pornstar.  I had always looked at her that way.
But in reality, she was a very lonely, depressed woman.
   "Lindsay would miss you too," I added.  "So would Devon,
as would Christina and Lisa.  Remember before you came back
to the island, Christina and Lisa went to visit you in
California?  They didn't go to visit Stephanie, Amy, because
neither Christina or Lisa had ever met her before.  They
went to visit you.  They would miss you, too."
   "I had a chance with Jessica," Amy cried.  "I really like
her.  But I blew it.  I let my aggression get the best of me.
She cringes whenever I walk by her now."
   "You have been pretty rough with her," I agreed.  "But you
were the same way with Lindsay last year.  If this isn't the
real you, Amy, then why do you act this way?  Why are you,
as you say, uncaring and insensitive toward everyone?  Why
do you want to hammer everyone during sex?"
   "I don't care because I don't think anyone cares about
me," she answered, which made me shake my head.  "Why should
I care about others if no one cares about me?"
   "You're so wrong, dear," I told her.  "I care about you.
I love you.  Lindsay loves you."
   "As for the aggression, I do like my sex hard," she told
me.  "I always have.  The problem is that I've taken that
aggression to other parts of my life, too.  The way I treat
people, you know.  I think a lot of it may be hurt... anger.
I just... I want someone - ANYONE - to look me in the eyes
and say that they love me.  I want them to mean it.  And I
want to know that they mean it.  I want, for once in my life,
to feel that I am needed.  That I'm more than a sex object."
   "I do mean it, Amy," were my words, as I stared deep into
her eyes.  "I love you.  I always have."
   "You have Lindsay and Devon," she said, shrugging my words
off.  "What possible reason would you have to TRULY love me?
Plus, you say you love all the girls here.  You always have.
You even said you loved Cassidy until she started lying."
   "I do say that a lot," I nodded.  "I overuse those three
words too much.  But with you, Amy, I mean it.  I love three
people in this world - Lindsay, Devon and you.  You, Amy."  I
shook my head and added, "I guarantee you that Lindsay loves
you.  It may be based on sex, but she loves you."
   "How can you love me?" she wondered.
   "I've seen through parts of you since last year, Amy," I
countered.  "You were the first girl here who approached me,
and wanted to get to know me.  That first night, even..."  I
smiled and said, "I became close with you, real quick.  When
I get close with someone, I care about them.  I care about
you so much, Amy, that I love you.  I really do."
   After a long drought of silence, I held my hand up and
waved it before her eyes.  "See that, Amy?  This ring I'm
wearing?  You gave it to me after Pamela ran off with Trish.
I remember what you told me then, too.  The crown on the top
of the ring is a show of loyalty.  The hands on the bottom
represent friendship.  And the heart in the center... love."
   I dangled the ring in front of her face some more before
adding, "You said this is a family heirloom of yours.  You're
supposed to give it to your future husband.  But... you gave
it to me.  Me, Amy.  This is the nicest thing anyone has ever
given to me."  I reached around her shoulders with both arms,
bringing her body close to mine in a warm embrace.
   "I cherish this ring, Amy.  I never take it off.  It
means so much to me.  While you were away in California, I
looked at it everyday and thought about you.  I always asked
myself if you were safe.  Were you happy?  Was everything
okay in your life?  I wanted nothing but the best for you,
Amy.  I prayed for you everyday."  Our embrace tightened...
   "Quit the porn business," I told her seconds later, as
she was now crying in response to my earlier words.  "If you
are not happy in porn, get out of it.  It's not what you
thought it would be.  You have to take pain killers in order
to cope.  That's not right, Amy.  Get out of it."
   "How?" she sobbed.  "I have a contract.  My boss is a
real hard-ass about fulfilling your contract.  If I try to
get out of it, he'll just sue me for millions of dollars.
I could never go through that.  Nor could I afford it."
   "Whatever he wants, I'll pay him," was my response.
   "WHAT?" Amy exclaimed, taken off-guard, as she ended our
mutual embrace and stared deeply at me.
   "I'll pay it," I reiterated.  "Whatever he wants to sue
you for - if he does - I'll just pay him.  Your happiness is
much more important to me, Amy.  I want you to be happy."
   "What do I do without porn?" she wondered, now very
distraught.  "I'll have my website, but the membership
will steadily go down once I'm no longer in the spotlight.
And I'm not sure I want to strip all that much, either.  My
family looks at me as an outcast now.  I can't go home to
them.  I have no job skills whatsoever.  What would I do?"
   "You could stay here," I answered, which made Amy's eyes
grow incredibly large.  "You want to be around people who
love you?  Both me and Lindsay love you.  Devon could grow
to love you.  We would want you to be yourself, though, Amy.
You say this ultra-aggressive person isn't you.  You'd have
to be yourself - the real you; the real Amy (last name).
Not Aimee Embers.  Not the pornstar."
   "Would Lindsay still like me?" she murmured, pouting.
   "I don't see why not," I told her.  "Lindsay likes just
about everyone... no matter if they're rough or gentle with
her.  You know that, Amy."
   "I can't ask you to pay my boss off if he sues me," Amy
said.  "It wouldn't be right, Jeremy."
   "You didn't ask," I grinned.  "I offered it on my own."
   Sighing, Amy closed her eyes and shook her head.  She had
known me long enough that when my mind was made up about
something, nothing would change it.  There was no reason for
her to even try.  "What about Stephanie, though?  Despite
all the things I've said, I do care about her."
   I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "She's the same as
those people earlier in your life.  If Stephanie doesn't
care about you herself - truly care about you - then she is
not worth your time.  If all Stephanie wants is for you to
dominate her - treat her rough, but you don't... she doesn't
deserve you, Amy.  You HAVE to understand and realize that.
You have to do what makes you happy in life - not others."

   I kissed Amy on the forehead and spoke, "I want you to
take a couple of days, Amy, to think all of this over.  We
will talk to Stephanie when the time is right, and let her
know how you feel.  I want you to be sure of your decision.
If Stephanie agrees to alter your lifestyle with her, and
you want to stay with her... I'd be happy for you.  All I
want is for YOU to be happy.  It's what matters most to me."
   "Or, if you opt to stay here on the island with Lindsay,
Devon and me, we'd welcome you with open arms.  We would
give you all the love and compassion that you could handle.
You are a good person, Amy.  There is always room for good
people in our lives.  That's why I surrounded us with them,
by bringing you and the other girls back to the island."
   Tears (perhaps of joy?) went streaking down Amy's face
once again.  I offered her forehead another tender kiss and
added, "Take some time, dear.  But first, you need to get
some sleep.  You need rest, Amy."  I rose up from the bed,
saying, "I'll get your medicine.  Take it, and then go to
sleep.  We'll also talk to Lindsay and Devon tomorrow."
   I turned to retrieve Amy's medication from the nearby
dresser-drawer.  Before I reached it, however, Amy's voice
stopped me dead in my tracks.
   "Jeremy?"
   I looked over my shoulder at her.  "What?"
   "Thank you," she responded, her eyes totally bloodshot.
"I... oh dear God... I don't even know what to say..."
   "Thank YOU," I shot back, smiling.
   "For what?" she wondered, a bit puzzled.
   I hesitated for a moment, but then smiled and answered,
"For being so totally open and honest with me, sweetheart.
For... trusting me with your feelings.  I appreciate it."
   I felt so warm and lively inside.  Nasty Amy had driven
me absolutely insane on several occasions over the past
year.  Real Amy, however... I got the sense that she could
push me BEYOND the point of insanity.

   Just like Lindsay and Devon already had...


                  <<<- End of Part 14 ->>>


---------------------------------------
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