Island retreat: Part 4

“I think she’s beautiful,” Marla offered.

“Yes, isn’t she? And we cater to any desire. Some of them quite extreme. We all have our kinks. The visitors here simply know what those kinks are and are not afraid to indulge them.”

“It’s hedonism,” Selma said.

“I won’t argue that point, my pretty new friend.”

Selma blushed, bringing a pink hue to her tan cheeks. “It’s inappropriate.”

“That is for each of us to decide. But a you are a guest in my home, I ask that you do not disturb the guests in their chosen roles, no matter how appropriate you might find their wishes.”

Selma looked from the statue to Carmen. “I can do that.”

Marla took a long sip of her drink and savored it. The gin was good. Expensive.

A sliding door whispered on runners and Marla and Selma were greeted by a feminine figure wrapped in black latex. There appeared to be no seams in the outfit she wore, if it was indeed a woman. The shape suggested such, but given the fact that no inch of her was uncovered, it could have been either. The breasts were round mounds on its chest, its waist wasp-like, poised on tall heels that appeared toe xtend from the latex feet. The overall impression was of a human form lacking any detail, its black latex skin shining in the daylight. Carmen leaned to the hood that gave only a similar impression of facial features, valleys where eyes might be, a rise where the nose and lips would sit, and she listened. While Selma strained to hear the exchange, Marla drank the remains of her glass.

“I am afraid,” their host said, “that your captain may have abandoned you here. My associate tells me that the dock I now empty.”

“I told you!” Selma exclaimed. Her voice rose sharply and Marla was sure that she was on the verge of true panic. “I told you he would leave us and blew it off like you do everything. And now look at where we are! Trapped on some island with a bunch of freaks!”

“I apologize for my friend,” Marla said calmly, “She overreacts. I blame it on the Latin blood.”

Carmen’s slys mile widened a moment. “Yes, I know that well. You may try to use your cell phones, but we have little reception out here. By design, you understand. I can radio for you and arrange another boat to the mainland. Two days at most.”

“Two days? And whata re we supposed to do for two days? Sit around and look at your so-called clients?”

“Selma, calm down,” Marla said, “we are guests here and we should behave like guests. I’m sorry the boat left, I really am. I didn’t plan for this to happen. Now that it has, can we try to stay calm and figure out what to do next?”

“We have some open rooms. You are welcome to stay a few days with us. And I assure you that we will not impose our lifestyle on you, Selma. In turn, I ask that you do not disturb the others.”

Selma was wide-eyed, a tangle of her dark hair drifting down to cover her face. It was quite lovely that way, Marla thought.

“Fine,” Selma hissed. “Just get me to a room and let me lock the door.”

Another part of the mansion, one quiet and isolated, where Selma’s cries cannot be heard. Maggie stirs first. She sits up on the cot where she has been deposited and rubs her chest. She has only to pull away her top to see the fiery red mark where the dart struck her. The realization that she and James have been drugged is enough to get her out of her seat and rush to her lover, who is slower to rise when she shakes him. Finally, he does.

The room is dark, some kind of cell like a prison. The walls are made of rock and the light is dim. That’s why it’s difficult to see the latex doll standing near. She is motionless, standing at attention like a toy soldier. James’s hand finds the spot on his neck where he was stung by the dart, too.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie admits. “I’m scared, James.”

“Hey,” James says, gaining his feet. He approaches the doll standing motionless in the gloom. “What’s going on here? Where are we?”

The doll surprises them both by coming to life. Its featureless face turns toward them and it beckons with a hand. This doll is not entirely featureless, they notice. There is a skirt around its waist with a white apron, much like a stereotypical French maid, only this is made of latex, too. When it walked, it swayed its hips, rocking the skirt in a feminine manner. It paused after a few steps on its impossible heels and looked back. It beckoned again.

“Do we follow her?” Maggie asked. She clung to James’s arm, holding tight as if he might fly away.

“I only see one way out of the room, and it’s in that direction. We might as well.”

When they followed, the maid resumed its path and led them out of the dim light of that room into the sunlight. The dark room has given way to a proper house, with big windows and light coming in. The storm clouds have passed, though James can smell the rain that fell while they were out. The maid does not turn again to find them, but leads them down a hallway, the floor tiled and suggestive of Spanish décor. Art of a decidedly lewd nature hangs on the walls and statues sit in alcoves, of equally suggestive form. Finally they come to a set of double doors and the maid opens them and steps aside, gesturing them o continue with a wide sweep of her arm.

As soon as the doors are fully open, they see Marla and Miss Perez and another woman, a little older but strikingly attractive.

“Ah, there they are,” the mysterious woman says. “I am Carmen, your hostess. I am sorry for the rrough treatment. My staff is trained to deal with intruders swiftly and we did not know your unfortunate circumstance.”

Selma rushed to them, wrapping her arms around them both.

“I am so happy to see you! What happened? Are you alright?”

“Alright? We’re a long way from alright,” James fumed. His eyes were on Carmen. Once more he could feel the warring sides of himself. This strange woman was alluring and he found her very attractive. And she was also very likely the one behind the drugging and abduction. And the cows in the field.

“I apologize again for the overenthusiastic response of my staff. Please, let me make it up to you. I’ve had my staff prepare a meal for us so we can start anew. Hopefully as friends.”

There was trepidation in the movements of the stranded guests, but finally they followed Carmen deeper into the house. James couldn’t help but feel they were moving farther from safety, but then he saw the long table and the spread of food. He only considered briefly that this, too, might be drugged.

Marla took a seat near their hostess, while Selma, James, and Maggie kept their distance by placing empty seats between them and Carmen. They were close enough to hear Marla’s interrogations about the resort and Carmen.

“So they can stay forever if they choose?”

“That is very rare,” Carmen replied, “But it does happen. We have a few permanent residents and they become part of the regular staff.”

Members of that staff milled around, offering food and drink wordlessly to the others. Maggie did not look at all, and Selma tried to avoid the sight of the latex maids as much as she was able. James hid his curiosity as best he could but found it hard not to stare at the fetish objects.

“And there is no limit to what someone can become here on the island?”

“No. Only the limits of the guest’s imagination. Although there are certain themes that recur. The dolls and statues and cows and ponies…”

“Ponies?” Maggie asked, looking up from a salad highlighted by fresh and delicious salmon.

“Oh yes. Lovely creatures,” Carmen mused. She had a faraway look and an affectionate bent to her voice. “I can show you all after lunch if you choose. They are simple creatures, but quite proud. Vain in their way. And we have a number of guests who choose that fantasy. It’s good for me because I have a whole team of them to pull a cart to carry me around the island on the prettiest of days.”

Maggie’s initial curiosity as stifled by the weight of the images Carmen’s words conjured.

Marla was undeterred and asked, “So how do you find it? Being the only one on the island who isn’t indulging in some kind of fantasy?”

“Who said I wasn’t? To be surrounded by people fulfilling their greatest desires, to be the facilitator of those desires, that is as much a fetish of mine as the latex and statuary are to the guests. I love being the caretaker of a world of fantasy.”

Marla nodded, smiling. She seemed contented enough with her answers that she could finally attend her meal and savored every bite of it.

There was a sick ball in the pit of Maggie’s stomach and it had little to do with the lunch. She and James excused themselves not long after the meal ended. It was James who wanted to get outside. He said it was because he felt safer in the wide open spaces, but Maggie wasn’t so sure. In exploring that wide open space, James led them again to the field of the human cows. They observed them for several minutes with little conversation passing between them. Even Maggie had to admit there was something peaceful about the habits of the hucows. That didn’t change the horror she felt at seeing a human being brought so low. Made a beast. Whether they chose it or not, it seemed to defy the natural order of things.

“Let’s keep looking,” James urged her, and she walked with him past the wooden fence, across the trail to the other side of the house, and toward the barn. “I bet they have the ponies in there.”

“Why do you want to see that?”

“Because I’ve never seen it before. And what a great story when we get back. I can tell the guys back home all about the island we were stranded on filled with all kinds of the craziests hit you’ve seen this side of German porn.”

Maggie laugejhd a little. “What do you know about German porn?”

“I know it’s weird. But not weirder than this. Come on.”

They circled the barn and followed the borders of the fence but found no sign of any ponies as Carmen mentioned. And for that moment, Maggie believed all was well. Thoughts of the cows and Carmen and the latex-coated staff of this strange place could be pushed aside when the breeze came in off the ocean and she turned up her face to greet it. It was a beautiful island, and she could enjoy that piece of it.

“Come on,” James said, and pulled her up the hill toward a grove of trees. There was shade beneath, and the ground was covered with moss.

“What are we doing?”

“I thought we might finish what we started. Before we saw all the strange stuff and got drugged by latex maids.”

“Hard to forget that part. What did you have in mind?”

James slipped his arms around Maggie and pressed his hips against hers. He said no more, but kissed her. It was a slow kiss, and filled with promise. For a moment, Maggie was reluctant, but then gave into the kiss and ran her hands under James’s shirt to feel his bare back.

The moss was soft when he laid her back upon it, tugging her top free and unbuttoning the shorts she wore before he freed his swollen cock. He had been horny all day, even after they woke in the stone room after being drugged, and he had to release. And there was something else, something life-affirming in the act of making love to Maggie. She spread her legs for him while he angled into her, her small breasts pooling on her chest, tall nipples standing up against her chest. He teased one of those nipples between his fingers, his other arm under Maggie, lifting her hips for just the right angle.

She cried out when he entered her, but James did not hear through his own low sounds of pleasure. She was wet for him. He loved how wet she got, a regular fountain when she was turned on, and she was clearly joined him in his arousal. His hips moved slowly at first, but his pace grew quickly. With the apex of each thrust, Maggie gasped, which fueled his desire more. He was going to cum, and sooner than he intended, but he needed this. He needed the explosion inside Maggie, and to feel her sweaty body against his own.

Earth dug under his nails while he arched his back, burying himself in Maggie. She clawed at his back, grunting with an impending climax of her own. Legs squeezed around his waist as he came, throwing back his head and braying with the culmination of his pleasure. Beneath him, Maggie gasped and mewled, writhing as he speared her with his member.

“Oh my god, James! Look!’

He rolled away, leaving her to cover herself while his wet gland nodded between his legs. At the edge of the fence line, they were observed by one of the ponies Carmen mentioned. Again there was a rumble of desire in his gut, not unlike what he experienced with the cows in the field. Only this creature was on two legs. Leather straps wrapped around her waist and her thighs, her chest and shoulders. Aside from the leather straps and the metal rings to which they were affixed, she was nude. Her body was sunbaked and athletic. When she moved, muscles in her legs rippled, and those of her thighs were quite pronounced. Her breasts were subtle, but their exposure was enough to suggest a sexuality to the woman. A black bit was fixed to a harness worn on her head. She did not try to speak. She made strange chuffing sounds, and she pawed at her sex, covered by a strap, with hands that were locked away in black mittens that resembled hooves. At the crown of her head was a line of coarse brown hair that matched the natural hair of the woman. With her hair pulled back in a long, braided ponytail, the effect of the hair on the harness was of a long mane.

“Go away!” Maggie yelled, covering herself with her arms. “Leave!”

Her voice snapped an invisible whip and the pony took off, running faster than James would have believed, moving over a rolling hill to disappear in another section of the field.

“What did they do to her?”

“What she wanted if you believe Carmen.”

“I think it’s an abomination.”

“If they want this, I mean if they really asked for it, who are we to judge, Mags?”

Maggie stood, straightening her clothes. “We are human beings. Not people pretending to be animals and statues and who knows what else. I want to go back to the room and stay there until the boat comes. I don’t like this place, and I can’t believe you’re not more disgusted.”

“We’re students, Maggie. And this is definitely a learning experience. Come on, loosen up a little.”

James stood near and sidled closer, hugging her and landing his hands on her shapely ass. Maggie pulled away, squirming out of the loose embrace.

“I said I want to go back.”

“Come on, then. Let’s go.”

If Maggie expected some sort of reprieve from the perceived depravity, she got no such thing. Once inside the house, they were surrounded by the human decorations, frozen in their seductive poses, and a team of maids covered in latex, only discernible as maids by the white latex apron resting on the latex skirts, busied themselves with cleaning the décor, including the human statues. Maggie tugged James along behind her, who was transfixed by the high strangeness of the island and its sexually liberated ideology. Only when they were back in the room did the tension drain from Maggie’s shoulders and she sat on the edge of a soft bed.

“When will the boat be here?”

“Two days she said.”

“I don’t think we’re ever getting off this island.”

“Let’s say Carmen tried to trap us here. You don’t think someone would come looking? I know my parents would go to hell and back to find me. And what about Marla and Miss Perez? Someone would wonder where they were, too. We just have to sit tight, enjoy some good food on a tropical island, and we’ll be back on the mainland in three days.”

Maggie looked warily at James. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Carmen sighed happily and stretched her arms above her. The way her full breasts rose on her chest at the lift of her arms was not lost on Marla, who watched the natural wonder with unabashed interest. Even the human statuary could not distract from Carmen’s mature charms.

“I suppose you want to see where it all happens?”

“The statues?”

“And the dolls and ponies and cows and kittens. And even more. We have some new toys. We can do almost anything with the human body now. Science has done wonders for the fetish business.”

“And you are never lonely? Really?”

“I live in a world of sexual delight, Marla.” Her Spanish tongue curled around Marla’s name in a way that made Marla’s pussy heat up. “And I am both the guide into that world for others and the benefactor of the resulting transformations. Do you think I haven’t tasted milk from the cows or caressed the flesh of the statues? Do you think the dolls I have attending the house have not attended me also?”

“I think it would be an incredible waste if you had not.”

“Precisely.”

“And, yes, I would love to see where the magic happens.”

“Not magic, my dear, only techniques and technology that would appear magical. I have quite an interesting idea in mind, and one we have only attempted once with great success. Do you know the term futanari?”

“I do.”

“Then perhaps we truly are more alike than I expected. Come.”

The room was sterile and white, with a pair of chairs that could have doubled for cages. There were restraints and straps and the angle of the chairs forced the sitter’s focus to stare at a blank and smooth wall. Along the sides of the room stood latex dolls, red and white, designs that suggested medical symbology. There was another, a doll in pink and white. The gloss of the doll’s latex skin and the rounded breasts and open hole in the hood to allow for insertion indicated this doll was less medical use than the others. The dolls remained perfectly still, even when Marla and Carmen entered.

“One thing I am very curious about,” Marla said.

“Only one thing?” Carmen was even more alluring when she teased.

“You said that all the residents of the island were here voluntarily. Is that really true? In all the years, there has never been an accident of a person brought here without written consent?”

Carmen did not answer right away. She ran fingers over the shoulder of the pink doll and spun, the skirt of her dress spinning around her ankles. Her feet were bare and bright red polish adorned the nails. Even in her barefooted bohemian style, there was a touch of something sophisticated.

“There have been incidents. And some of the conversions may have been more permanent than the guest might have liked. But when it was done, it wa sonly to preserve the sanctity of this place. If it were to become common knowledge that this island existed, what it offered, we would be unable to continue. We operate best with an exclusive and very limited clientele. Only those who can afford the processes we use here know of the island’s existence. And those that can afford such a thing are not the sort of people who talk. They know a good thing when they have it.”

“So the person undergoing the treatment, they don’t have to be willing participants?”

“It helps, but no. Our work is good enough that we can alter anyone as we see fit. It is not our preference to engage with a guest who does not want the procedure.”

“I’m sure.”

“And in those rare cases where someone had to be converted, I assure you that the punishment fit the crime. We believe in justice as well as pleasure on this island.”

Marla asked no further questions.

Selma had her arm extended out the window, her cell phone in hand. She thought perhaps she might get a signal. Her efforts so far were in vain. She leaned as far out as she could, pushed up on her tiptoes, her body hanging out the window. In her darkest imaginings, some great jungle cat would come from the brush and chomp off her hand still clutching the cell phone. She thought of the crocodile in Peter Pan, the one with the clock ticking away in its belly. Only the imagined lion or tiger or panther, it would chirp with the sound of new texts when someone tried to reach Selma.

She didn’t hear the door open behind her, and she didn’t hear the footsteps as they crept from the door to the window. Eyes watched, admired the full curves of her body.

“Stupid phone,” Selma hissed, drawing her body inside her room.

A hand wrapped around, covering her mouth. Another jabbed a needle into her neck and injected. Before Selma could fully register what was happening to her, the effects of the drug blasted into her bloodstream took hold and she collapsed into the arms of the intruder.

“Sweet dreams, sweet Selma,” Marla whispered. She kissed unconscious lips and wrested the chaperone away from the window and out the bedroom door. There was work to be done.