(Island19.TXT)
==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Island Fever" - Chapter 19 of ??
|| (M/F, F/F and just about everything else)
Written by: HighlanderJM - (c) 2005
E-mail: HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
Chat: http://messenger.msn.com - HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
Story archive: https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/HighlanderJM/
(!!NEW!!) Author homepage: http://spaces.msn.com/members/HighlanderJM/
==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish?" Lindsay
asked to no one inparticular here at the dinner table on this
cool and breezy Friday evening. Once she had the attention
of everyone present, Lindsay continued, "I think it's tuna.
But the can it came in says chicken. _Chicken of the Sea_."
Nearly everyone seated here at the dinner table - Devon,
Kristanna, Pamela, Amy and Camille - looked at Lindsay with
wide eyes, or simply had to hold back a barrage of laughter.
Lindsay, in turn, offered everyone a quizzical expression.
"I thought you said you worked at a supermarket?" Devon
confirmed, giggling, as she glared at Lindsay.
"I do," the 18-year-old responded. "I have worked at
[Supermarket Name] in Ohio for a few years now. Cosmetics."
Trying to keep a straight face, I explained to Lindsay,
"Sweetheart, it says _Chicken of the Sea_ because that is
the brand name. It is one of the largest seafood canneries
in the world. But I assure you that it is fish - tuna.
_Chicken of the Sea_ cans only fish... not chicken."
"Are you sure? I mean... why does it say chicken, then?"
Amy laughed at Lindsay. "Do you really think that could
be chicken you have? Do chicken swim in the sea?"
Lindsay suddenly looked very tentative. "Well... I have
never HEARD of a chicken that can swim. But that doesn't
mean there are no chicken in the sea. I really don't know."
"OH ME GOD..." Kristanna huffed in amazement, that exotic
Norwegian accent of hers intact, as Devon, Amy and Camille
broke out into a fit of wild, hysterical laughter. Pamela
stared at Lindsay in disbelief, the look on her face clearly
suggesting that she had never been witness to a more ignorant
remark from someone in her whole, entire life.
"What's so funny?" Lindsay whined, now a bit upset with
the collective reaction. "I just asked a question!"
"It says _Chicken of the Sea_ because that is the brand
name," I reiterated, thinking to myself that Lindsay's naive
comment could be forgiven because she was so incredibly hot
and beautiful. "I have no idea why the company chose that
name, sweetheart. But I assure you that it is fish."
"Oh, okay," Lindsay finally relented, as the quartet of
Devon, Kristanna, Amy and Camille continued to snicker and
laugh. "This is really confusing to me for some reason. I
think I will stick to _Starkist_ canned tuna from now on."
And with that, the roof came crashing down with laughter.
"_WHAT_?" Lindsay screeched, glancing at her counterparts
here at the table with a look of anger and disdain.
Amy, who was seated next to Lindsay, leaned over and
embraced her with both arms from the side. "It is perfectly
okay, baby," she said, unable to control her laughter. "I
think that you are priceless! I will always remember my 31st
birthday because of the things you have just said!"
As Devon, Kristanna and Camille continued to snicker and
laugh, Lindsay glanced at Amy and then became agitated. She
tossed her napkin down onto the table and stood up, then
placed both hands upon her hips and eyed everyone intently.
"If you all want to make fun of me, I'll just skip dinner!"
With that, the fertile-minded blonde turned and stormed off.
"Lindsay! Wait!" Devon called out.
"We're sorry!" Camille, though still laughing, hollered.
"It be Amy's burdday party!" Kristanna reminded Lindsay,
who had vanished into the adjacent front room. "Do not go!"
Feeling as if Lindsay was long gone by now, Amy turned
back around and glanced at everyone at the dinner table. "I
never thought that Lindsay could be that stupid! Everyone
knows that _Chicken of the Sea_ is a giant seafood retailer."
Camille laughed. "But Lindsay wondered if chicken could
be found swimming in the sea, remember?"
"That was something I will never forget," Pamela mused.
"Let us have buffalo vings and chicken fingers tomorrow
night for dinner!" Kristanna suggested. "I vunder vat she
vould have to dink about eeder of dem?"
Amy imitated a possible reaction of Lindsay by saying in
a sweet, innocent tone, "I didn't know that buffaloes had
wings. They can FLY?" Amy broke out into an absolute rage
of laughter once again. "How can someone be so STUPID?"
I felt as if Lindsay's ignorant (meaning, _un-informed_)
comment about the _Chicken of the Sea_ brand name was funny
at first, although I was able to conceal my laughter. Now,
however, I did not feel that way any longer. I did not like
the fact that the others - in an effort spearheaded by Amy -
were cracking jokes about Lindsay and calling her _stupid_.
Actually, Amy was the only one saying that she was _stupid_.
"Vare are yew going?" Kristanna asked me, as I stood up
from the table and glanced toward the adjacent front room.
"If you ladies would excuse me for a bit," I told them,
"I have something that I must take care of. I'll be back."
I exited the formal dining room, although Kristanna and Amy
were calling for me to come back and re-join them.
Ignoring their pleas for now, I checked all corners of
the spacious front room, but was unable to find Lindsay.
Wanting to locate her, I ventured off for the below-ground
recreation room. With all the arcade and pinball machines,
and video game systems found there, the recreation room was
a favorite hang-out spot for Lindsay. I figured that she
may have went there to take a temporary refuge from the
others and their wisecracking laughs. But unfortunately, I
did not find Lindsay in the recreation room, either.
I did know where else to look. Lindsay could have been
anywhere in this 60,000-square-foot mansion of mine. Then,
I remembered the voyeur room. It would give me her exact
location without having to search every nook and cranny of
the estate on foot. Thus, off to the voyeur room I went.
Lindsay was obviously upset because of how the others had
treated her at the dinner table. Otherwise, she would not
have stormed off even before our meal began. Plus, today
was Amy's 31st birthday - and that dinner was going to be the
start of her party. The only way that Lindsay would walk
out on Amy's birthday party, I thought to myself, was if she
was horribly angry. I wanted to find Lindsay, and calm her.
Plus, I wanted her to come back and enjoy the party.
Although, in a way, I could look past Lindsay questioning
the ingredients of _Chicken of the Sea_, the same could not
be said for her speculation about chicken possibly being
able to _swim_ in the sea. I admit that it certainly was not
the brightest or most well-informed comment that a person
could make. At the same time, though, Lindsay should not
have been subjected to the snide laughs and barbs from the
other ladies. In my book, at least, it was just plain wrong
for Amy to call Lindsay stupid. That was rude, and crass -
no matter whether it was justified or not.
* * *
"Oh my God..." I muttered perhaps three or four minutes
later, as I strolled into the voyeur room and immediately
found Lindsay's whereabouts. On surveillance monitor 37-A,
the little sweetheart was seated against the wall in the
guest room corridor, with her knees up and arms secured
tightly around them. What shocked me, however - and maybe
even scared me - was that Trish was kneeling beside Lindsay.
The two, it seemed, were having a discussion. Was Trish
trying to hook up with Lindsay again? I sure hope not...
"I can't believe that everyone laughed at me like that!"
Lindsay whined, pleading her case to Trish, as I flipped the
audio switch on for the corridor. I transferred the video
from monitor 37-A, which was small and located in the high
corner of the panel, to the big screen just in front of me.
"Everyone laughed at you?" Trish asked.
Lindsay sniffed her nose and answered, "Well, I can't say
that it was EVERYONE. Jeremy didn't laugh. Neither did
Pamela. But Amy was laughing. So was Devon and Kristanna.
Camille looked at me as if I was some sort of idiot. But at
least... at least J-Jeremy and Pamela didn't laugh at me."
"It's not in Jeremy and Pamela's characters to laugh or
poke fun at someone else like that," Trish remarked. "I
think it was perfectly alright for you to say what you did.
_Chicken of the Sea_ is kind of misleading if you don't know
what the product is. It could be chicken, you know. Or it
could be something from the sea. It's one or the other. If
you've never had it before, it's perfectly okay to wonder
exactly what it is. They should not have laughed at you."
"I also said something really, really stupid..."
"What was that, eh?"
"I wondered if there were chicken that could actually swim
in the sea." Trish's eyes went wide with total astonishment
as Lindsay fretted, "Oh... that was the dumbest thing I have
ever said! But they laughed at me for it, too! It made me
feel so worthless... like I was brainless."
"We all say silly things at one point or another," Trish
mused, her voice calm and serene. "Jeremy and Pamela... I
bet neither of them laughed when you said that, either."
"Pamela looked at me like I was some sort of loon," she
responded. "But Jeremy looked at me like he always does.
Outside of having sex, Jeremy doesn't show much emotion."
"I bet that Jeremy is mad at Devon, Kristanna, Amy and
Camille because they made fun of you," Trish speculated.
"He doesn't seem to be the type of person who would tolerate
that sort of thing. Not Jeremy."
Lindsay sighed and shook her head. "This is really bad.
I'm hungry. I haven't eaten a thing since breakfast this
morning. But I can't show my face to the others again. Not
tonight, at least. What am I going to do? I'LL STARVE!..."
Trish eyed Lindsay for several seconds, then puckered her
lips together for an instant before saying, "I'll go off to
the kitchen and get you a dinner plate, or a snack, and
bring it to you. You can eat it in your room, or wherever.
That way, you would not have to see the others."
"I thought you were sick, though," Lindsay countered.
"Jeremy said you were skipping the birthday party because
you have a bad case of the flu."
Trish shrugged her shoulders. "I feel better now. I was
feeling pretty bad earlier, but I feel better now. Jeremy
gave me some medication, and the flu cleared right up."
Obviously, that was a minor lie on Trish's part. She was
never sick in the first place. I agreed to allow her to
skip Amy's birthday party as long as she played _sick_.
Trish wanted nothing to do with the party because, in her
own words, she did not want to subject herself to seeing
Lindsay. But Trish was talking to her now...
"You would really bring me a dinner plate?" Lindsay asked,
perhaps a bit surprised at Trish's generosity.
Trish shrugged her shoulders once again. "You said you
are hungry. But you don't want to run the risk of seeing
the others again tonight. So I'll go to the kitchen and get
you something to eat. Why wouldn't I?"
Lindsay frowned. "I was pretty rough on you the other
day with what I said in the recreation room."
"This has nothing to do with the other day, or what has
been said between us," Trish informed her. "This is about
you being hungry, and needing some food in your stomach. I
cannot stand the thought of anyone feeling hungry. ANYONE."
Lindsay appeared genuinely grateful. "Thank you, Trish."
"You're welcome. What would you like me to get you, eh?"
"How about some orange juice, two pieces of rye bread and
a can of _STARKIST_ tuna?" Lindsay requested. "That way, I
could make myself a tuna sandwich. Don't worry about getting
my plate from the dining room. I don't want it."
* * *
"I got your food," Trish said about five minutes later,
as she knocked on and then opened the door that led to the
guest suite that - at least for the past couple of days -
Lindsay had been sharing with Amy. Trish hesitated for a
moment, then glanced around the empty suite with a confused
expression upon her face. "Lindsay? Where are..."
"I'm in here!" came the 18-year-old's voice.
Trish offered an inquisitive look toward the closed door
of her own private bedroom. She went over to open it, and
found Lindsay resting comfortably upon her old bed - the
same bed where she once slept before moving in with Amy.
"I didn't expect to find you in here," Trish said, as she
entered the suite, carrying a tuna sandwich on a platter and
a tall glass of orange juice over to Lindsay.
"I always liked this bed," Lindsay mused, squirming about
upon the mattress. "It feels much more comfortable than the
one Amy and I sleep on together in the other room." Trish
frowned at those words as Lindsay added, "But Jeremy says
that all of the beds are the same. Strange, huh?"
Trish sat down upon her own bed. "Yeah... I guess so."
Trish did not seem all too comfortable with her ex-girlfriend
in the same room with her. Of course, the fact that Trish
was still in love with Lindsay had everything to do with it.
Just the mere presence of Lindsay was enough to drive Trish
totally insane. Now, they were alone together...
"I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this," Lindsay
said, as she took a bite out of the loaded tuna sandwich.
"I am so hungry, I could eat a cow!" Lindsay took a few
more bites before saying, "Can I ask you a question, Trish?"
"Sure."
"Why do you like me so much?"
Trish glanced over at Lindsay. "What do you mean, eh?"
"Why do you like me so much?" Lindsay repeated. "I mean,
I have never had someone pursue me so very hard and so very
aggressively before. Why do you like me so much?"
Trish appeared antsy and tentative. "I do not think this
is the right thing for us to talk about." Lindsay shook her
head rather vigorously as Trish continued, "You obviously do
not want to have a relationship with me, and I accept that.
I respect that. There is no need to talk about details."
"But I want to know," Lindsay insisted. "I want to know
what it is about me that you like so much. I mean... I look
in the mirror, and all I see is a girl. A normal, regular
girl. What is it about me that you find so appealing?"
Trish shook her head. "We shouldn't be talking this way.
What I say, Lindsay, it could make you feel uncomfortable or
apprehensive. Then you could go to Jeremy, and I'd get into
trouble. I already had a long talk with Jeremy about you.
He told me to let go and move on, and that is what I'm gonna
do. He would not like it if we talked about this."
"I just want to know why you like me so much," Lindsay
mused yet again. "Please tell me because I want to know. I
promise that I won't feel uncomfortable or angry about it.
There won't be anything for Jeremy to get mad at you about
because I am asking a question, and you would answer it.
That is all. He would not mind that one bit."
"I don't see the point of talking about this if there is
no future between us. I'm sorry, but I don't."
Myself, I got the distinct impression that Trish did not
want to speak with Lindsay at all. Trish was so obsessed
with Lindsay, but knew that she could not have her as a love
interest in her life. Thus, it actually hurt Trish to have
any type of verbal (or physical) contact with Lindsay. This
very discussion was taking its mental toll on Trish.
I also got the sense that Trish was battling her urges as
well. It seemed as if she wanted to pounce on Lindsay and
make mad, passionate love to her. Watching Lindsay squirm
and writhe about upon the bed seconds earlier certainly added
fuel to that already burning fire. But Trish would never do
that unless Lindsay was a consenting participant. Trish was
not the type of person to impose her will on anyone. Still,
the urge for her was most definitely there. I could see it.
Whether my previous inclination was correct or not, Trish
most likely did the best possible thing once she rose from
the bed and quickly exited the suite, thus leaving Lindsay
all by her lonesome. As a result, Lindsay made a face and
huffed angrily for a brief instant - obviously upset that
she did not get an answer from Trish - but soon settled back
down into her old bed and resumed eating the tuna sandwich.
Lindsay was a total doll and sweetheart - no doubt - but
I had learned from observing her during recent days that she
possessed a snippy, somewhat mean side to her personality as
well. It was not an endearing trait for her to have.
I refer back to Lindsay's comment (directed at Trish) from
this past Tuesday about Devon being the _flavor of the week_
for me. That did not sit too well with me, obviously. Now,
Lindsay seemed angry that Trish did not want to discuss a
subject which clearly made her feel very uncomfortable.
There was absolutely no reason for Lindsay to be upset.
Perhaps it was the ignorance of her youth. That was my
best guess. If so, Lindsay clearly had a lot more growing
up to do - in both body and mind. It is strange, but when I
was Lindsay's age (18), I thought I had all of the answers.
I was an authority figure on every possible subject. Now,
age 31, I realize that I knew _nothing_ back in those days.
Perhaps Lindsay would feel the same way as she got older...
* * *
Now would be an excellent time for to comment on the
recent changes on the island. Due to the ending of Trish
and Lindsay's relationship, they were no longer room-mates.
Lindsay had moved down the hall into the suite formerly
occupied by Pamela and Amy, who was sharing the room with
her. Pamela, who had no problem with Amy but understood why
she wanted Lindsay to be her new room-mate, had been roving
about lately. Since the shuffling began, Pamela had spent
separate nights with Kristanna, Trish and Camille. Devon
was my brand new room-mate, of course, and Kristanna seemed
bent on making it a three-way arrangement. I simply figured
that Kristanna wanted to be as close as possible to Devon at
all times. No one could blame her for that...
I was both disappointed and discouraged that the recent
problems between Trish and Lindsay were dark spots on what
had otherwise been a harmonious and flawless two-and-a-half
weeks since my lovely female guests had arrived. With that
as the lone exception, everything had been perfect thus far.
Was there anything else for me to feel negative about?
If I had my way, Trish and Lindsay would be together.
Why? For the simple reason that I knew - beyond a shadow of
a doubt - Trish would do whatever it took to ensure that
Lindsay received nothing but the absolute best in life. Be
it companionship, care, love or even simple, everyday things,
Trish would only have Lindsay's best interests in mind. Her
own thoughts and desires would be strictly secondary.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Amy, who
seemed to be _using_ Lindsay's body (and sweet innocence) as
a whipping post in these bondage games, which were clearly
becoming more intense and twisted. Was Amy leading Lindsay,
a Bible-thumping virgin (until two weeks ago, at least), who
had aspirations of one day becoming a church minister, down a
path of no return? Was Kristanna correct when she told me
recently that ten years from now, Lindsay could very well be
a carbon copy of Amy? A late-20's/early 30's woman with a
rugged past and absolutely no direction for the future, whose
own self-image was that of a nymphomaniac? A worthless slut?
At times, at least, I got the impression from Amy that
she looked at herself as being _worthless_. I got that vibe
from her at several points over the past two-and-a-half
weeks. I thought much more of Amy, of course. But for all
intents and purposes, my opinion was meaningless. How Amy
felt about herself was the only thing that really mattered
here. She needed a serious boost of self-esteem. Believe
me when I say that I speak from personal experience here.
As Kristanna speculated, could Lindsay turn out to be the
same as Amy some ten years from now? Could her lust - which
was multiplying ten-fold with every passing second - become
so out-of-control that she would lose all rhyme and reason
as a person? I believe Amy, in her younger days, was once a
victim of that. Amy's appetite for sex, which had no limit
whatsoever, was the thing that seemingly drove her entire
existence. It seemed as if sex was all that mattered to Amy.
If a person can be defined with a single word, I think a
good one for - let's say... Devon - would be _affectionate_.
Kristanna? _Funny_. Pamela could, at least in my eyes,
easily be described as _classy_. Trish was _loving_. On
the other hand, the first word which comes to mind when I
think of Amy is _NYMPHOMANIAC_. Did anything else fit her?
I was not about to call her something crass (i.e. slut).
But is this a good way to look at or think about a certain
individual? Obviously, it is okay to enjoy sex. I enjoyed
sex, of course, as did all of the other ladies here. But we
did not allow sex to control every facet of our lives. Amy
did, unfortunately, and Lindsay may very well be on her way.
According to Kristanna, Lindsay was already off and running.
Although I had my objections, it was not my place to tell
Lindsay of these feelings that I had. As long as she was a
willing participant in all of the sick and twisted things
that Amy did to her, I had no right to object about anything
Lindsay did. Thus, I would keep quiet on the subject.
* * *
"I thought you had the flu," Pamela said to Trish, as I
flipped on the audio switch for the central room, which was
located downstairs. After watching Pamela descend the steps
with the help of the surveillance system and come upon Trish,
who had taken refuge here no more than a minute ago, my first
instinct was to eavesdrop on them here in the voyeur room.
Trish shrugged Pamela off and countered, "Keep a secret?"
"Sure."
Trish frowned and admitted, "I was never sick in the first
place. I got everything set up beforehand with Jeremy so I
could skip Amy's birthday party."
Pamela offered her a quizzical look. "Why?"
Trish winced before answering, "I figured that it would be
an opportunity for me to get away from Lindsay for awhile. I
just... I cannot stand the sight of Lindsay and Amy together.
I CANNOT STAND IT! Amy is so wrong for her! But I... thought
it could be especially difficult... for me to see them at the
party together, since this is Amy's birthday, and all." She
paused and then literally begged her friend, "Please don't
tell any of the others, Pamela. I don't want anyone mad."
Pamela shook her head. "I won't tell anyone. That is one
thing about me, Trish. I ALWAYS keep any and all secrets."
Trish was still pouting. "Lindsay and Amy were probably
glad that I wasn't there, anyway. Everyone else, too..."
"What?" Pamela exclaimed, her eyes narrow, as she hurried
over to Trish and placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.
"We were all worried because Jeremy said that you were sick!"
Trish shook her head. "Oh... I didn't mean that. It's
just that I'm really upset right now. I just saw Lindsay a
few minutes ago and I'm still all jittery from it. People
here think I am crazy, or something. Maybe I am."
"I don't think you're crazy."
"You ever love someone so much that it actually hurts,
Pamela?" Trish fretted. "You love that person so much that
it hurts you inside? Yet no matter what, you can never be
together? That is the situation I am in right now with
Lindsay. Do you know how incredibly painful that feels?"
Pamela was the one frowning now. "Maybe..."
"I thought you said you have never been in love."
Pamela nodded her head. "What I said to you the other day
is that I was never in love UNTIL I came to this island."
Trish's eyes went wide. "You're talking about Jeremy?"
Pamela nodded her head once again, which, of course,
piqued my interest. "Yes, I'm talking about Jeremy."
"You and Jeremy can never be together?" Trish asked. "I
am sorry, but I do not understand. Why would you...?"
"Devon," Pamela responded in a flat tone. "Devon." She
shook her head and added, "Actually, Devon AND Kristanna."
"I still don't understand..."
Pamela sighed. "I have been doing everything that I can
do in the past couple of weeks to get Jeremy to notice me...
to get him to like me. Everything that I can possibly think
of, I have tried. That man treats me better than I have any
right to be treated. Jeremy is really everything that I have
ever wanted in a man. I want to be with him so very much.
Everything, I thought, was running along perfectly. Jeremy
knew how I felt about him. I told him. The first couple of
days on the island were like a fairy tale for me because it
seemed that Jeremy wanted to be with me. But then, Devon
turned up the heat and Jeremy has all but ignored me, save a
few conversations here and there, for the past week or so.
He... he likes Devon more than me..."
Trish nodded. "I know the feeling..."
"Amy likes Jeremy a lot because he treats her with respect
too," Pamela continued. "But Amy is not going to make a play
on him because she knows how much I like him myself. I know
that you would never do me wrong like that, Trish, and go
after Jeremy. Camille? Camille doesn't even like men. I
do not think that she is interested in Jeremy at all, really.
Lindsay is too young to want a relationship." Trish hung
her head low for a moment as Pamela kept talking, "But Devon
is going hard and heavy after Jeremy. That girl needs to
understand that Jeremy is MINE. He belongs to ME. I was
with him long before Devon even laid a finger on him."
"What is your problem with Kristanna?" Trish wondered.
"You said not only Devon, but also Kristanna."
Pamela took a deep breath. "I left the birthday party
myself. Kristanna grabbed Devon and brought her into her
lap right at the dinner table, started hugging and kissing
her. Kristanna was going on and on, saying how happy she
was that Devon is now room-mates with Jeremy. She was
talking about how Devon and Jeremy are the perfect couple."
Pamela vehemently shook her head. "Seeing them two coo and
cavort like that made me feel sick inside. I apologized to
Amy and then left the party. I came down here and saw you.
I guess that I wanted to get away for awhile, too."
"You don't like it that Devon is just as interested in
Jeremy as you are?" Trish inquired. "And that Kristanna is
seeming to encourage Devon into being more open and forward
with Jeremy? Since you were with him first, Pamela, you
think that Devon should respect that and back off?"
Pamela nodded her head and sniped in return, "Devon is
trying to steal the man that I love!" Pamela paused and
continued, "What makes it even worse is that Kristanna is
constantly telling Jeremy how incredibly right Devon is for
him. I have it on good authority that Kristanna has even
told Jeremy that Devon is a better fit for him than I am.
That Devon would even love him more than I ever could!"
How did Pamela know that? How did she know what Kristanna
and I had spoken about - in private - behind closed doors? I
was totally _SHOCKED_ that Pamela had any knowledge of that.
Trish shrugged her shoulders and pouted. "It looks like
we both have relationship problems, huh? The best advice I
can give you, Pamela, is that you need to show Jeremy just
how much you love him. That is really all you can do. If
you are trying to win his affection, do everything that you
can to show him that you are Miss Right for him. I can tell
you right now that Jeremy is the type of guy to eat that
kind of stuff up. He takes whatever people say to heart."
Pamela suddenly appeared angry. "I cannot believe that
Devon swooped in out of nowhere and asked Jeremy if she could
be his room-mate! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT! I was probably a day
or two away from asking him the very same question myself!"
Trish groaned. "Devon beat you to the punch."
"What would you do if you were in my position, Trish?"
The Canadian shrugged her shoulders. "Just as I said...
show Jeremy how much you love him. Make him see that you
are the right girl for him. Be totally up-front and honest.
I tried that with Lindsay, you know, but it didn't work.
She cannot handle someone being up-front and honest with her
like that. I think that is really what drove her away from
me. Jeremy, on the other hand... he CAN handle it." Trish
shrugged her shoulders once again. "That is all I can say,
Pamela. Be honest, and let the chips fall where they may."
"How am I supposed to win Jeremy's heart with Kristanna
constantly in his ear, telling him how sweet and wonderful
Devon is? Jeremy has been friends with Kristanna for six
years. She is like the only person - including his very own
family - whom he totally, unequivocally trusts in the whole,
wide world. Jeremy listens to every word that she says and
treats it like pure gold. Kristanna is his best friend.
All she does is tell him how sweet and wonderful Devon is!"
"Be honest with Jeremy," Trish reiterated, before taking
a very deep and long-winded breath. "I really understand
everything that you say, Pamela, but there is only one thing
that I disagree with. I hope you won't be mad at me for it."
"What?"
Trish hesitated before answering, "Jeremy is not a piece
of property. You did not claim him, or own his rights. You
are not married to him, have no rock-solid commitment. If
Devon wants to pursue him, she has every right to..."
"No!" Pamela returned in a defiant voice, shaking her head
for emphasis. "Everyone on the island was well aware of the
fact that Jeremy and I were together from the second day on
here. Everyone knew that I really liked him and he really
liked me, and there was the distinct possibility of something
long-term and ever-lasting between us. Truth be told, Devon
should have respected that and decided to _BACK OFF_! I had
sex with Jeremy two different times before Devon even touched
him for the first time."
"I've had sex with Jeremy twice," Trish countered. "Two
weeks ago, that three-some with Lindsay where she gave us her
virginity was my first time with Jeremy. The only other time
was during the big gang-bang we had a couple of days later.
But, I shared a pretty good kiss with Jeremy the other night.
I kissed him like I had never kissed a man before." Trish
paused for a moment, allowing her to words to sink in and
register within Pamela's mind. "According to your logic, I
should have never done anything with Jeremy, either. The
three-some with Lindsay, the gang-bang, the kiss we had the
other night. All of those things happened well after you
tried to stake your claim in him. Correct?"
"I would not mind if Jeremy simply had sex with Devon,
and that was it," Pamela said. "Outside of the realms of
this island, that would be considered cheating. But I have
no problem with it HERE because, as you and I both know, this
island and the atmosphere here is highly unique. I have no
problem with Devon wanting to have sex with Jeremy. I had no
problem when you and Lindsay, Trish, spent that day with him.
I have no problem with Amy and all of the time she has spent
with Jeremy. The only problem I have is Devon trying to
steal Jeremy away from me. Well... that, and Kristanna doing
everything under the sun to make Jeremy fall in love with
Devon. Devon and Kristanna should have respected that I had
dibs on Jeremy first. They should have _BACKED OFF_."
Trish shook her head. "I don't agree with you."
"Why?" Pamela exclaimed, upset.
"As I said, you have no claim to Jeremy," Trish explained.
"You have no commitment with him."
Pamela swung her arm in an outward motion and exploded,
"Talking like that, then you shouldn't go around constantly
whining about how Lindsay wants nothing to do with you and
how she has shacked up with Amy!"
Trish moved her head back, obviously stunned that Pamela
would speak to her with such rage and contempt. It even
took her a few seconds to come up with a response. "I never
once complained that Lindsay has seemingly chosen Amy over
me. What I complain about it is that Amy is not right for
Lindsay. I could treat Lindsay right. I _KNOW_ I could.
What I _CONSTANTLY WHINE_ about is that Amy is wrong for
Lindsay. She does not have her best interests in heart."
Trish shook her head and added, "The difference between
you and me, Pamela, is that you have a REAL opportunity to
win Jeremy's heart. You can do everything within your power
to make him fall in love with you. You can go to whatever
lengths you want to try and convince Jeremy that you are a
better fit for him than Devon is. With Lindsay, _I_ can't."
"If I continue to pursue Lindsay, chances are she will
eventually go straight to Jeremy and complain that I am
harassing her. Lindsay does not want to be with me. I am
doing my BEST to respect that, and move on. I may love her -
I most obviously still do - but I cannot change the way that
she feels about me. I cannot even TRY to change the way that
she feels about me. I already had a long talk with Jeremy,
and he told me to back off from Lindsay. He told me to let
it go and move on. But if I keep pursuing her and thus,
harass her, Jeremy would probably send me home." Trish
paused for an effect and ended, "I don't want that. Despite
all of my problems with Lindsay, I like being on this island.
I do not want to go home until it is time."
"But I..."
Trish cut Pamela's words off by telling her, "You can say
whatever you want to Jeremy. You can do whatever you want to
him. You have the opportunity to convince Jeremy that you
are the right woman for him. That is the difference between
us, Pamela. Jeremy is right there for you. He is within
your grasp if you hold nothing back and pour your heart and
soul out to him. Lindsay is light years away for me. I WANT
to pour my heart out to her, but I can't. I can't really say
anything like that to her anymore. You may not believe it,
but I'm going to do my absolute best to move on with my life.
It will take time - perhaps a lot of time - but eventually I
will get over Lindsay. I allowed myself to get lost in her.
That was probably my biggest mistake of all."
Pamela frowned. "I didn't mean to snap at you, Trish. I
am sorry for raising my voice at you like that..."
"It's okay," Trish assured her, nodding her head. "I know
what love can do to a person. Apology accepted."
Having been witness to a bitter side of Pamela - something
that I never knew existed until this very moment - I flipped
the audio switch off for the central room and leaned back
within my padded, leather chair here in the voyeur room. I
would need some time to think about and fully understand
everything that Pamela had just said to Trish about not only
me, but Devon and Kristanna as well.
I found it very difficult to believe, but obviously Pamela
harbored a tremendous amount of resentment and sheer jealousy
toward Devon. She did not approve of the fact that Devon and
I were room-mates. Pamela did not like it that Kristanna had
been pushing and prodding me toward a stable relationship and
commitment with Devon. That was sad.
Lost in thought, I leaned my head back upon the top of the
chair and sighed. First off, Kristanna had done nothing
wrong. There was no dispute about that whatsoever. Since
her return two weeks ago, I had continually went to Kristanna
for advice and guidance when it came to the other ladies. I
asked her to give me her opinion _AT ALL TIMES_. Kristanna's
opinion, of course, was that Devon and I made a good couple.
She thought that, out of all of the ladies, Devon was the best
fit for me. There was nothing wrong with that - no matter if
Pamela liked it or not - especially considering the fact that
I _wanted_ Kristanna to give me her opinion. I asked for it.
Pamela was absolutely correct when she told Trish that I
trusted Kristanna. I trusted Kristanna more than anyone.
I certainly understood Pamela's feelings about Devon. She
felt as if Devon was trying to steal me away from her. At
the same time, however, I also understood Trish's rebuttal to
Pamela on that very same subject. I did not have any sort of
commitment with Pamela. Devon had every right to pursue me.
I had every right to pursue Devon, as well.
What was I going to do to diffuse this brewing situation
that Pamela had with Devon and Kristanna? It could very well
be a powder keg waiting to explode. I could not ignore it
and pray that it eventually went away. Life is rarely that
easy. What could I do to lessen the resentment and jealousy
that Pamela seemed to have for Devon? More than anything, I
simply wanted everyone here to get along and be happy.
As I rubbed my bleary eyes with both thumbs, I took a deep
breath and shook my head. Then, once re-focusing upon the
voyeur room control panel in front of me for the first time
in perhaps 45 seconds, I felt every muscle within my body
contract at once. "_NO_!" I exclaimed at the very top of my
lungs, a wide range of emotions swirling throughout my body
all at once. Suddenly, I felt as if I wanted to die...
* * *
Devon, my brand new room-mate, hopped up onto the bed in
our private suite and began peeling off her clothing. I was
not complaining about that, mind you. Instead, with Devon
now in the suite, I was trapped in here. My only way out of
the voyeur room was the wall panel which opened just across
from the bed, where Devon was now located. There was no
possible way that I could allow Devon to know about this dark,
little secret - the voyeur room - of mine. _NO WAY AT ALL_.
I was so intent on contemplating the brewing situation with
Pamela that Devon had made it all the way to our room without
my knowledge. Usually, I am much better than this. When one
of the surveillance monitors, which are triggered by motion
detectors, flicker to life, I usually notice it... especially
those that oversee the corridor which led to the suite that
Devon and I now shared. I was extremely angry at myself for
letting her slip by like that.
I quickly debated over my options. I could wait in here
for Devon to leave. But with the time approaching 8:00pm,
she may not leave until tomorrow morning. Did Devon step
away from Amy's birthday party and come here because she was
tired? Was the birthday party over? If so, how could I have
missed out on it? Was Devon planning on calling it a night?
If that was the case, I was a prisoner in my own voyeur room.
Maybe I could wait until Devon were to fell asleep, and
then open the wall panel and sneak out of the voyeur room
undetected. But would that work? The wall made a loud,
rustling noise when it slid open, and it could easily wake
Devon. If that happened, I would be caught red-handed.
Even if it did not wake her, Devon could soon to start to
worry and fret about me. If I was not in the suite with her,
where was I? She could call around to all of the others on
the cellular telephone system and find that I was not with
any of them, either. I did not want Devon to worry about me
when there was absolutely no reason for her to do so.
On the other hand, maybe this was the moment of truth for
me. Could this be my judgment day? I quickly realized that
because I had chosen to pursue a relationship with Devon, she
would soon find out about the voyeur room and its existence
one way or the other. Right? Eventually, she would have to.
Kristanna and I had discussed this very topic several times
in the past. Perhaps it was better that Devon learn about
the voyeur room sooner rather than later?
"Of all the girls on the island," I said out loud, taking
a long breath, "Devon is the one you can tell about this
place. Devon is your princess. She loves you... thinks the
world of you. If anyone, Devon will understand that this
voyeur room is nothing but a harmless little kink of yours."
"I hope," I added, turning the knob which activated the
wall, thus causing it to slide back and provide an open
pathway between the voyeur room and our adjacent suite.
Those were the longest ten seconds of my life. What would
Devon's reaction be to the knowledge that I had been spying
on her and all of the other ladies since their arrival some
two-and-a-half weeks ago? Would Devon hate me and think of
me as some sick and twisted pervert? Would she go off and
tell all of the others, in a furious rage, that I had been
eavesdropping on them in their private moments together with
a collection of hidden cameras? That all of the footage was
archived on my computer, and I had access to every single
move the girls had made since stepping foot here? Would I be
made out to be a terrible person? Would all of them hate me?
I gulped my throat once the big wall finally locked into
place, as Devon was standing there with a curious expression
upon her face. She glanced over my shoulder and into the
voyeur room, but clearly had no idea what it was. With the
intricate control panel and a spread of monitors, the voyeur
room resembled the production area of a television studio.
"What's in there?" Devon asked, her eyes narrow, as she
pointed over my shoulder at the voyeur room. "Where did you
come from? What were you doing in there?"
I grabbed Devon by the shoulders and spun her around, and
then away from the entrance to the voyeur room. She turned
her head in its direction, but was blocked out once I took
her around the corner with me. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Can you keep a secret?"
Devon let out a hesitant laugh and reiterated, "What is
going on, Jeremy? What _IS_ that place? Tell me!"
"Can you keep a secret?"
Devon sighed and responded, "Of course I can."
"I really mean it," I told her. "It's a big secret. You
cannot tell any of the other girls about this."
"I promise!" she countered. "I won't tell anyone. Does
it have something to do with that strange room?"
"A big secret..." I said while leading Devon back to the
far wall, my right hand tightly entwined with her left.
* * *
Devon's blue eyes were large and bulging as I then ushered
her into the voyeur room. Only a couple of the monitors were
registering some activity, but Devon clearly had an idea of
what this place was all about. Pamela and Trish were still
in the central room, and appeared to be deep in conversation.
Kristanna was talking about something with Louisa, the
elderly housekeeper, in the kitchen. Meanwhile, in the
dining room, Amy and Camille were having a discussion of
their own. And finally, still in Trish's bedroom, Lindsay
had finished her tuna sandwich meal and seemed to be enjoying
herself very much. In more specific terms, Lindsay had a
hand down her shorts and was busy masturbating upon the bed.
"All of you girls seem to wonder what I do when I am not
with you, and am nowhere to be found," I said to Devon, as
she looked at the monitors in shocked silence. "What exactly
is it that I do all day long while you and the other girls
are out having fun... correct?"
I waited for a response, but did not get one. Devon just
continued staring at the monitors in sheer silence. Thus, I
decided to step forward and flip the audio switch on for the
guest suite where Lindsay was currently located. Sounds of
self-induced passion could be heard as Lindsay continued to
twiddle away at her clitoris underneath her shorts.
"Welcome to my voyeur room," I gently said to Devon, still
waiting for a response but not getting one. "I know it may
look bad, but it's really not. Just let me explain..."
Several seconds later, Devon was still silent. However,
once there was a long, drawn-out "Oh Lord..." from Lindsay,
Devon suddenly turned her face and looked squarely at me.
I offered her a smile, still waiting for a reaction. I
finally got one - but not exactly the type that I wanted.
The blank expression upon Devon's face tightened as she
extended her right arm, her hand open. She let out a grunt
and before I knew what happened next, Devon had slapped me
across the face - as hard as she possibly could.
"HOW DARE YOU SPY ON US!" she exploded, her eyes flashing
with absolute hatred and disdain. "HOW DARE YOU!"
Both stunned and hurt, I tilted my head to the side while
holding my burning face. Perhaps I should have stayed hidden
in the voyeur room until Devon fell asleep after all, huh?...
<<<- End of Chapter 19 ->>>
==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Island Fever"
Author e-mail: HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
Author chat: http://messenger.msn.com - HighlanderJM@hotmail.com
Story archive: https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/HighlanderJM/
(!!NEW!!) Author homepage: http://spaces.msn.com/members/HighlanderJM/
Please let me know what you think of the story! Your comments
are the only reward authors like me receive for our hard work!