<<< IPE-16.txt >>>
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"Island Paradise: Eternity" - Chapter 16 of ??
--> M/F, F/F and just about everything else
--> Author: HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
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As we sat side-by-side upon a huge boulder in the forest,
Amy and I had been thoroughly immersed in a deep-rooted and
rather enlightening discussion over the past half-hour. We
were well away from the mansion and the other ladies, and
thus, this level of privacy and seclusion had allowed Amy to
open herself up to me. Of course, I was all ears.
"I'm not the happiest person in the world, you know," Amy
told me, frowning, while also shaking her head. "I... I
sometimes look at my life, and wonder where everything went
wrong. When I graduated from high school ten years ago, I
had plans. I wanted to be married by the time I was 22."
She pouted and added, "I wanted to be... happy. I was going
to get married and hopefully have some kids. You know...
grow old together with my husband. Live in a nice, little
house with a white picket fence. That's what I wanted. But
I'm 28 now. None of that will ever happen for me."
I squinted my eyes and asked, "What makes you say that?
I didn't get married until I was 28 myself. Some people
don't get married until they are 40 or 50... even later."
"I've been put down so many times in life," she said,
again shaking her head. "People put you down enough, and
eventually, you start to believe it."
"I think you're a very bright, very special lady, dear."
"What makes you say that?" Amy asked, laughing. "There
isn't anything special about me. I'm so screwed up. Look
at me... something that I promised myself long ago would
never happen has actually happened. I'm in love with you -
a married man. My mom would have my head if she knew that."
"It's okay to be in love with me," I countered, my voice
gentle and soothing. "Devon and Kristanna are okay with it.
You know that the three of us lead a very open lifestyle and
relationship, Amy. It's okay to be in love with me. Nothing
bad will ever come of it. Only good."
"Can I tell you a story, Jeremy?" I nodded my head and
then Amy continued, "When I was younger, my mom would always
lock me in the attic when I got into trouble. I would stare
out the window up there and pretend that I was a princess
trapped in the tower by the evil queen. Then suddenly, a
knight on a white horse would ride up with all of his colors
and rescue me. We'd ride off together, of course, but never
once in any of those daydreams was the knight a married man."
"Amy, it's okay to have feelings for me," I reiterated.
"If Devon or Kristanna were one bit jealous, you and I would
not be having this discussion now. You would not even be on
the island. We brought you, Stephanie and Lindsay back, and
added Sarah, Britney and even Gabrielle because we enjoy the
company. If my two wives were jealous or did not approve of
me being with you and the others, I would have never went to
Baltimore and tried to convince Pamela to come back here. I
think that you have a phobia, or something, about hurting my
marriage. It's not going to happen, sweetheart."
"What makes you think I am a good person?" she asked.
"Easy," I nodded. "You're much smarter than you have ever
given yourself credit for. I think you are extremely honest
and have good values. And I like you, Amy. I always have.
I have seen through that wall you put up around yourself.
Underneath that aggressive exterior of yours is a very kind,
warm... considerate woman who has the need to feel wanted."
"Oh?" Amy replied, gulping her throat.
"You know what your biggest problem is, Amy? I'll tell
you - you don't believe in yourself. You're not exactly the
most positive, upbeat person in the world. I have said this
to you before, and I am sure I will say it again - you have
to stay positive if you want something positive to happen."
"You're positive, Jeremy," she frowned. "You happened."
"You were positive when I first met you last year," I told
her. "Do you remember your first-ever day on the island last
June? You were the first girl here who approached me, and
wanted to get to know me. That first night, even..." I
grinned and added, "I became close with you... real quick.
You were full of life, vibrant... a light was in your eyes."
"Over time, Amy, I started to see you in a different way.
Perhaps you were excited that first day but eventually, I
saw hints of a very depressed person. I guess I did not
realize it until after the fact. But you are depressed.
You're moody... you can be quiet at times, and sulk. If you
want people to recognize you in a positive light, you have
to treat them like you did me the first day we met."
"I have to seduce people a few hours after meeting them?"
"Not at all," I laughed. "You're a very outgoing and
infectious person when you allow yourself to be." After a
short pause, I told her, "But you don't need to worry about
that anymore. You don't have to force yourself to be that
way if you choose to stay with us on the island. I like you
just the way you are, Amy. So does Devon. Kristanna too.
Of course, we know who that person really is inside of you.
We think that you could smile more, but that will come with
time. It will be our job to make you smile."
I hesitated, unsure how to tell her what I had to say. I
decided to take the simple route, and be blunt and direct.
"Stephanie does not make you happy. Right? You don't like
being a Dominatrix. It's not who you are."
Amy closed her eyes and sighed, then shook her head. "No
it is not." She focused upon me and went on, "I... I really
have nothing against Stephanie. She is a nice girl. She...
she is just not my type. Not my type at all."
"Then why is she your girlfriend?" I asked. "Why did you
buy a home in Connecticut with her?"
"Because I was tired of being alone," Amy responded, her
voice hushed. "Stephanie is the first person in my entire
life who has actually wanted to be with me. I... I settled
for her. Our relationship has been totally built on false
pretenses. I... I have to force myself to treat her the way
I do." Amy pouted and added, "I think I do a good job with
it, though. Sometimes I even fool myself. But... be-being
with Stephanie is better than being alone... you know."
"Stephanie wants to be with you, Amy, because you treat
her in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable," I surmised,
frowning. "You're her Dominatrix, but it makes you unhappy.
That's not being fair to yourself. It's not right, dear."
"I know it isn't..." Amy fretted. "But I th-thought it
was the only way. People have looked at me throughout my
entire life as nothing more than a cheap thrill. Something
to use and then toss out once their finished."
"That was your own doing," I countered. "You have told
me in the past that you resorted to slutting while still in
high school in order to get others to notice you. That is
not how you get others to notice you, Amy. At least not in
a good way. All people did, I'm sure, was share stories
about you. And make up a lot of them, too."
"No one has ever taken me seriously..." she sniffed.
"I take you seriously," were my words. "I care about you
more than you will ever know, Amy. You grow on me more and
more with every passing day. The more I learn about you,
the more I like. I know what it is like to feel lonely and
depressed. I was that way for my entire life, until I
brought you girls to the island last year."
"Oh... you say I'm moody and depressed," she pouted.
"You are," I nodded. "And you have that tough, jaded
exterior that we have discussed in the past. But still, I
like you, Amy. I like you a lot. I know beneath that
exterior and beneath that depression is a good person.
Call me crazy, but I'm attracted to good people. I can look
past the negative things because I know there is a good,
honest person in you. And I realize that those negative
things are there for a reason... reasons that can be fixed."
I reached out and grasped her right hand with my own, then
smiled. "We can do away with all those negative feelings you
have, dear. You and I... Devon and Kristanna too. Give us a
chance. We want the opportunity to make you happy."
"But why?" Amy sighed, unsure. "I mean... I would feel
really strange trying to fit into a relationship with you,
Devon and Kristanna. You know that you're my favorite,
Jeremy. Devon and Kristanna know it, too. I would feel so
guilty if I caused any problems in your marriage."
"I am Devon's favorite," was my response. "Kristanna's
too. They don't seem to have a problem with it. They love
each other very much. We all feel like equals."
"But that's different," Amy said. "You're all married."
I shrugged my shoulders and returned, "If things work out
and you really fit in, you could marry us too."
Amy's eyes nearly exploded at those words.
"Are... are you... SERIOUS?"
"Of course I'm serious," I told her. "It's not a proposal
by any means. I'm strictly talking about the future... if
everything works out. We would not want you to feel like an
outsider if you were to stay with us. We would want for you
to marry into us and make everything level and even."
"What about Stephanie?"
"What about Stephanie?" I retorted, offering a shrug. "I
don't know about her. I imagine that she needs to have a
good, long talk with you. You don't want to dominate her
anymore?" Amy shook her head as I added, "Didn't think so.
How could you have possibly allowed yourself to get into
this situation with her, Amy? How?"
The 28-year-old frowned and said, "When I first started to
have sex with Stephanie last year, she and I would dominate
each other. We would both really hammer away at each other,
and I enjoyed that. I enjoyed it a lot. I could live with
that because we both got what we wanted."
"But eventually, Stephanie did not dominate me anymore.
She started calling me `Mistress' and begged that I whip her
harder, more severely. I degrade her verbally and humiliate
her in public. That I treat her like a piece of property
instead of an actual human being. She became totally and
unquestionably submissive to me. I did not want that, you
know, but there weren't too many options for me at the time."
"Stephanie was someone I could at least spend my time
with." Amy shook her head and continued, "It beat being
totally alone, although I was still miserable. I do like
good, physical sex, Jeremy. I can dish it out but I also
like to be on the receiving end of it. With Stephanie, it
is all one-sided. But it goes deeper than the sex. I am
someone that I do not even know anymore. I'm not a bitch
Dominatrix. I... I wish I never met Stephanie."
I frowned and brought Amy into my arms, embracing her
warmly, as we sat upon the large boulder deep in the forest.
"Shhhhh," I consoled her, kissing the crown of her head.
"You weren't totally alone, right? Don't you run some sort
of bondage club back home in Connecticut?"
"Those people don't care about me!" she fretted. "All
they want out of my club is to get off."
"Isn't that the point?"
"I guess it is, yeah..."
"What about your past relationships? Tell me about them."
"I had two major ones, really," she answered. "First
there was Master and Mistress. I've had a couple of Masters
and Mistresses in my life, but these two were the ones I
went the deepest with. I lived with them for over a year
when I was younger. The sex was great. It really blinded
me at first because it took me awhile to realize that they
did not care about me. I was just a toy to them."
"Aren't all submissives considered toys?" I countered.
"Forgive me, but I'm trying to understand the lifestyle."
"Yes they are," she answered. "But submissives should
also be loved and appreciated by their Master or Mistress.
They didn't care about me one bit. They were older... I
was 21 when I met them, and they were in their late 40's.
Not married, but a devoted couple nonetheless. They didn't
care about me. I was a way for Master to fulfill his
ongoing fantasy about being with a young, college-aged
girl. And Mistress? All Mistress ever did was beat me."
"Beat you?" I asked, somewhat repulsed.
Amy frowned and nodded her head in response. "My other
big-time relationship was with this guy named Malcolm. He
was black and he always dominated me, but never wanted me
to call him Master. Anyway, Malcolm started having me do
other black guys. It got to the point where I realized he
did not care about me, either. One night, he took me to
this bar and I wound up having sex with probably 20 guys,
all of whom were strangers. Malcolm did not look out for me.
He did not know who any of those guys were or what they
would do to me." Amy took a deep breath and shook her head.
"We had an argument about it after returning home. He... he
beat me too. And then I left the next morning... forever."
A tear even streaked down my own face as I countered, "I
don't know what to say to you, Amy, except that you would
never have to worry about that here. Devon and Kristanna
are angels to me. That's how I treat them. I would never
do a thing to hurt either of them. The same goes for you."
I paused and added, "Did you ever tell the police?"
"About Malcolm?"
"Yeah..."
"No," she answered. "I was too afraid. I just went back
home to my mom and dad, and cried for a month. Not because
of Malcolm, at least totally, but because of the way my life
had been up to that point. All I ever wanted was for someone
to love and care about me." How Amy had not broke down and
started to cry yet was beyond me. "Is that too much to ask?
Yet, back in Ohio, and even now in Connecticut, everyone who
knows me looks at me as nothing more than a cheap slut."
I pulled Amy's head away from my shoulder and stared deep
into those pretty green eyes of hers. "You're looked at as
a good person here on this island, dear. Not everyone knows
you as well as I do now, but seriously, do any of these girls
look at you in a negative light? You're friends with all."
"I think that's because all of these girls are just like
me," she answered, which sent my eyebrows skyrocketing. "I
think we are all sluts. Devon, Krissy, Lindsay, Stephanie,
even Britney. Pamela and Trish too. I think maybe the only
exception to that is Sarah. I don't think she's a slut. I
think Sarah is only here for the money."
"Devon and Kristanna are sluts?"
"I don't mean that in a bad way, Jeremy," Amy insisted.
"But yes, that is what I think. They are in what is an
illegal marriage throughout many parts of the world. They
have relations and sex with all of us girls. And remember
last year, on my birthday? You brought all those guys here
and they gang-banged us... Devon and Kristanna included. I
don't think anyone enjoyed it more than Devon did."
"Actually, Devon felt terrible after it happened," I told
Amy. "She thought she had cheated on me, and promised to
never be with another man ever again. But that's beside the
point. I can see why you call the others sluts, though I do
not agree with it. But you're entitled to your opinion."
"The difference between that gang-bang and the night
Malcolm took me to the bar, Jeremy, is that I trusted you,"
Amy offered. "I trusted that you had all of those guys
checked out beforehand - just like you checked us girls out
before bringing us here. There was no risk in it for any of
us. And I knew you would not allow them to hurt us."
"The island is a place to open up, and let all of your
inhibitions go." I still had a bad taste in my mouth from
Amy calling everyone on the island (except Sarah) a slut.
Especially my two wives. "Devon never did anything, except
maybe a threesome, that suggested she was a slut before
coming to the island last year. And a threesome is hardly a
slutty act. Kristanna?" Something popped into my mind.
"Well... Kristanna was gang-banged by groups of boyfriends
in both Norway and Los Angeles. Here too." I held firm and
finished, "But I still don't that she is a slut, either."
"Lindsay is a slut," Amy nodded. "She'll fuck anything
that moves. Stephanie too, obviously. Pamela is a slut.
Look at all the hundreds of thousands of people she has
exposed herself to since she started stripping. Trish is an
exhibitionist. She loves sex and showing off. And Britney
is a slut waiting to happen. When it is time for everyone
to go home, Britney will be just like Lindsay is. She'll
open her legs for anything that moves."
"But that's my point," Amy continued. "All of these
girls on the island like me because we are all the same.
We're all a bunch of sluts. How many would actually want
to get to know me, besides Devon and Kristanna, as a real
person? Britney? Sarah? Lindsay? Sure not her. Look at
what Lindsay did to Trish last year. Lindsay is heartless."
"That's a little harsh," I countered. "Lindsay is an
incredibly sweet girl who just doesn't want a relationship
right now. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that."
"She's heartless," Amy insisted. "Lindsay led Trish on
last year and then shattered her heart intentionally."
I needed to change the subject.
NOW.
"Are you going to talk to Stephanie tonight?"
"Yeah... I'll talk to her."
"And you want to stay with us on the island?"
Amy nodded her head. "As long as you let me stay."
"You're welcome to stay as long as you like," I told her.
"We don't want you or any of the others to ever leave us."
* * *
As I lounged in the voyeur room later that same evening,
my natural impulse was to eavesdrop on the discussion that
Amy and Stephanie were now having in their guest suite. But
my more sensitive and honest side won out this time. I had
decided to turn the monitor off which displayed their room,
figuring that their conversation - especially this one - was
private, and should forever stay that way. I would not even
be able to go into the archives and view it in the future.
Still, I had the urge to flip that monitor on and hear
every word for myself. I compensated for that by partaking
in one of my favorite all-time activities - Devon Watching.
Devon Watching was an art and if given the chance, everyone
(at least those in their right mind) would surely enjoy it.
Seated in the large, expansive library, Devon was reading
a magazine at the table. No one else was around to speak of,
so naturally Devon seemed very calm and serene as she took in
page after page of the Caribbean travel magazine. Private
moments like this allowed me to see just how breathtakingly
beautiful and gorgeous my beloved wife truly was.
Tight and compact at 5-foot-3 and 95 pounds, to say the
least, Devon's breasts were much larger than her frail
waistline would typically suggest. In fact, never before
in my life had I known a woman so very thin and petite, yet
with such large, blooming breasts. But there was plenty
more to Devon than just her breasts. Plenty more, indeed.
Devon was a stunning young woman; a blonde vision of pure
loveliness who seemed entirely too sweet to be true. Devon
had the face of a supermodel, with deep blue eyes and an
absolutely captivating smile. Her wondrous melange of a
Dutch/French/Cherokee/English heritage had somehow resulted
in a born-and-bred All-American girl.
In addition - and even more importantly than all of that -
Devon was easily the sweetest and most caring woman I had
ever met in my life. There was nary a mean bone in her body.
Devon had all the good qualities that a woman should possess
and as a result, she indeed seemed too good to be true.
The 25-year-old looked exquisite - as usual - dressed up
in a pair of hip-hugging denim shorts and a white camisole
top, as she relaxed at the table in the library. I had the
hidden camera trained directly upon her. I could sit here
in the voyeur room for the next hour or two, and be content
to simply watch and admire Devon's sheer beauty. This was
the next best thing to actually being there with her.
"I love you, sweet thing," I murmured, blowing a kiss at
the screen. "I love you so much."
Suddenly, a pair of hands curled themselves around Devon's
head from behind and completely shielded her eyes. I panned
the camera view back and was witness to Lindsay. The little
hellcat, with both hands covering Devon's eyes from behind,
disguised her voice and giggled, "Guess who?"
"Kristanna?" Devon speculated, grinning. "Wait... no
cast. You're definitely not Kristanna. Who's there?"
"It's me, silly!" Lindsay squealed, removing her hands
from Devon's eyes and then curling her head in for a closer
look. Lindsay planted her lips upon Devon's mouth from the
side, also using her tongue during an intimate, slow kiss.
For a moment, Devon seemed to enjoy herself. But then, all
of a sudden, she must have remembered something.
Her eyes wide, Devon broke the kiss with Lindsay and
pulled away with a look of mortal fright upon her face.
"What's wrong?" Lindsay wondered, confused.
"N-Nothing's wrong..." Devon answered, obviously lying.
"I haven't had sex with you in three or four days, at
least," Lindsay pouted, reaching out and touching Devon's
shoulder. "For awhile, you and I could not last three or
four HOURS without having sex."
Devon jerked away from Lindsay's touch as if she had been
burned. This, of course, confused the 20-year-old even more.
"What's wrong?" Lindsay insisted. "I was walking by and
saw you here in the library." She pouted once more - a sexy
pout, noless - and said, "I thought maybe we could fuck a
little. Or... a lot. I miss being with you, Devvy."
When Lindsay touched her shoulder again, Devon jumped up
from the table and shook her head in response. "I'm sorry,
Lindsay, but I just remembered... I have something to do."
With those words, Devon quickly scampered out of the library.
Lindsay, who was left behind and could only speculate about
what had just transpired, looked incredibly hurt. In fact,
it appeared as if she was about to cry.
As I watched Devon make her way through the mansion with
my surveillance system, it did not take long for me to figure
out that she was headed directly toward our private suite.
"Kristanna..." I gently said, nodding my head at the screen.
Devon did not want anything to do with Lindsay because she
obviously feared that Kristanna would not approve of it.
"I love you, Devon!" Lindsay shrieked, her voice catching
my attention and forcing me to re-focus for a moment upon the
library monitor. "Did I do something wrong?" Lindsay curled
both arms across her body in front of her and shivered as if
she were freezing. "I love you!" Lindsay called out, though
there was no way Devon heard her. Needless to say, being
the recipient of the brush-off did not sit too well with her.
Wait a minute! Lindsay was in love with Devon?
!!!!!
* * *
"Sweetheart... what are you so upset about?" I asked Devon
seconds later, my hand on her shoulder as we stood facing one
another in our bedroom. "Kristanna has already said a couple
of times that it's okay for you to have sex with Lindsay. I
don't understand why you ran away from her like that."
"I want to get Lindsay out of my system," Devon told me,
sighing. "Every single time I see her, all I want to do is
have sex with her. It's... it's not right that I feel that
way about her. I don't have any feelings of love for her.
I don't have any emotions. I don't want to be her friend.
ALL I WANT TO DO when I see that girl is HAVE SEX WITH HER.
I... I've never felt that way about anyone in my whole life."
"Why did you run away from her?" I asked yet again. "If
you like having sex with her..."
Devon took a deep breath and responded, "Lindsay drives
me INSANE. I know that Kristanna said it was okay for me to
have sex with Lindsay, but I really rather not. Kristanna
is my girl, and I am hers. She is my wife. Knowing how much
I like Lindsay, and how I feel so very addicted to her... I
really want to stay away from her. I don't even want to run
the risk of anything coming between me and Kristanna simply
because I cannot control my urges. She was jealous before."
"What happens if Lindsay really cares about you?" I asked,
recalling the 20-year-old's words of love from moments ago.
"I honestly think that Lindsay feels the same way about
me that I feel about her," Devon countered. "All Lindsay
wants is to have sex. She has even said that before. You
know that Lindsay is totally against a relationship..."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe." I paused and added,
"You cannot avoid Lindsay for the next six or seven weeks.
She lives with us, sweetheart. We see her everyday. If you
don't want to have sex with Lindsay anymore, you'll have to
let her know. You can't avoid her or always run off. But
still... you should indulge yourself. Have sex with her.
Kristanna won't mind unless you go overboard like last time."
"Maybe that's what I'm afraid of," Devon frowned. "You
know that I love Kristanna with all of my heart, just like I
do you, Jeremy. I love being with Kristanna. She's my wife.
I love everything about her. She is more important to me
than any other woman possibly could be." Devon shivered as
she added, "But Lindsay... Lindsay drives me INSANE. I... I
don't like feeling about her the way that I do. It's wrong.
No human being should be looked at as an object. But that
is how I look at Lindsay." Devon pouted once more and
concluded, "Though Trish actually loved Lindsay, I now know
what she was going through last year. Trish, that is."
"How addictive Lindsay can be?"
Devon nodded her head and replied, "Yes... too addictive.
I just don't want Lindsay to come between me and Kristanna.
It would kill me if I hurt Kristanna that way again." She
hesitated before adding, "Of course, I don't want you to
become one bit jealous either, Jeremy. You... you know that
you're my number one in life. That will never change."
"Come here, sweetheart," I grinned, extending my arms and
then bringing the gorgeous blonde into my heartfelt embrace.
"I love you, Devon. I would do anything for you. But I'm
not the jealous type. As long as you're comfortable with
it, I actually want you to have sex with Lindsay. I want
you to have sex with everyone on the island. But... you're
not comfortable with it. At least with Lindsay."
Devon backed away from our mutual embrace and clutched my
hand with her own, then slowly led me over to the large bed.
She took a seat upon it and motioned for me to do the same.
When I did, Devon offered me an inquisitive expression.
"Normally Jeremy, you know that I want nothing to do with
the voyeur room. But Kristanna was in there earlier and she
asked me to step inside and listen in on that conversation
you had with Amy." I gulped my throat as Devon continued,
"I also speak for Kristanna in saying that neither of us
appreciate being called sluts - ESPECIALLY by Amy."
"'Hon, I don't think Amy knew what..."
"I am NOT a slut and neither is Kristanna!" Devon fumed.
"Pamela is not a slut, either. Even though she is an exotic
dancer, I do not think Pamela is a slut. I don't even think
Stephanie is a slut. She is the way she is because Amy made
her that way. Stephanie sure didn't act that way when she
was my room-mate last summer." Devon's eyes were large and
she was obviously a tad bit enraged because of Amy's words.
"I don't mind Amy saying things like that in the heat of
the moment, but she has NO RIGHT to speak like that about us
in a general sense," Devon added, still upset. "I cannot
believe Amy called me a slut. This coming from a woman who
let her so-called Master of a boyfriend take her to a bar
one night and allow 20 guys to have their way with her. If
Amy really did not want that, all she had to do was say NO.
It is what I surely would have did in that situation.
"But I think Amy liked it. I'm not a slut. Neither is
Kristanna, Pamela, Lindsay, Stephanie, Britney, Sarah, Trish.
The ONLY slut this island has ever known is Amy herself."
"Honey, you need to settle down," I stressed, both hands
extended as I moved them up and down. "Settle down..."
Her emotions running high, Devon snapped and proclaimed,
"I don't want Amy to stay with us long-term on the island
if she is going to think that way about me and Kristanna..."
<<<- End of Part 16 ->>>
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