Whispers of Slave Island Ch. 01

When Tom opened the door to his penthouse, Evelyn was waiting, naked, on her knees, legs spread lewdly, and with open palms on her thighs. Instinctively, his eyes went to her full breast, thrust out and on display as they should be. Her platinum hair was in a simple bun, her thick lips parted with just a hint of tongue tip behind them.

He stepped past her without a word. She wanted to watch, but kept her eyes on the floor, trying to discern his actions from the corner of her vision. His massive bulk, mostly barrel chest and thick arms, all of muscle from years of military work, was easy to watch even from the corner of her eyes.

Tom opened the wardrobe and took a leather harness from a hook. He barked in a deep baritone, weathered through years of issuing orders to soldiers, "Inspect."

Evelyn got to her feet quickly. She stood with legs shoulder width apart, exposing her cunt for inspection. Her hands went to the back of her neck, and she thrust her chest out again, showing off ample assets. She was a head shorter than Tom, and while she'd never felt smaller than most men, Tom made her feel tiny and insignificant.

Moving behind her, Tom wrapped the leather harness around her body with practiced expertise. He tightened each buckle painfully on her skin, letting her feel his anger as he tightened the punishment harness around her.

Evelyn accepted it stoically. She'd known he'd be angry when he arrived home, and she more than expected that he'd do exactly this. She knew she'd be tasting the kiss of the whip tonight, and just that if lucky.

When Tom finished crisscrossing the leather straps around her body, framing her bare tits, creating a web of handhold he grabbed her by the back of the neck.

"Move!" he snapped.

He half-dragged, half-shoved her through the entryway, to the living room, and then out onto the balcony. With a shove, he sent her sprawling over a wrought iron table placed right up to the glass railing. Before she could regain any bearing, Tom was yanking her wrists behind her back, attaching them to the harness on opposite sides of her hips. This pulled back hard on her shoulder blades, causing a small whimper to escape. Evelyn caught it and forced it down, knowing any of her discomfort wouldn't sway him. The delicate metal grating of the table pinched her nipples painfully, its cool touch making them tortuously erect.

"What am I looking at?" he demanded.

"A worthless cunt, Sir," she said knowing it wasn't what he was asking about.

His silence terrified her more than any retort would have. She heard him unbuckling his belt. Usually, when he was intent on delivering punishment, he would have her kneel, unbuckle him, and then offer him the implement of torture. That he was removing the belt himself told her he was beyond furious. She'd have to tread cautiously.

The swish of the belt sliced through air, then her ass. Tom had put his full weight into it, leaving a scarlet slash across Evelyn's bare cheeks. She suppressed a gasp through clenched teeth. She couldn't repeat holding them back when the other three blows came.

Thick calloused fingers wrapped into her bun, yanking her head back so she had to look at the city skyline around them. Blocks away, half hidden by luxury hotels, a twenty-story building burned.

"Tell me again, what am I looking at?" Tom hissed in her ear.

Evelyn paused only for a moment before answering, "The Grand Royal Serena is on fire, Sir."

"Your doing?"

When Evelyn paused, Tom's hand slapped her cunt from behind, hard. The pain exploding from her clit took her breath away making her pull her bound arms hard against their bindings.

"Yes, Sir," Evelyn whimpered.

Thick fingers massaged her from behind, the calloused tips tingling against her sensitive nub.

"Why?" Tom asked, then with a pinch to her clit took her breath away.

Evelyn refused to say anything. Even when Tom delivered another dozen scalding blows to her ass with his leather belt, each one stung, slicing into the soft flesh of her ass cheeks down to her core. Through gritted teeth, she winched her eyes shut, trying to relax her muscles as the blows rained down. All efforts to instinctively move her hands to cover herself ended in bound failure. She could only writhe violently on the table.

"Is this what you wanted, cunt?" he panted at her.

Unable to say anything, Evelyn quivered, trying to come to terms with the pain. Twenty years of this treatment, twenty years of being his slave, and the pain was still the same. She never got used to it like she once thought she would.

Realizing that she wasn't going to answer, Tom stepped up to her from behind, shoving fingers into her crudely. Her yelp was satisfying but failed to deliver the info he wanted. Curling the fingers, he massaged her roughly inside. Evelyn cried out, not entirely in pain.

"Is this what you are holding out for?"

She could only gasp as he continued working two fingers roughly inside her.

"You're wet. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Between moans, Evelyn cried out, "No, Sir. I was..." Her words became incoherent as he forced a third and fourth finger into her. Her shuddering cries pleaded unintelligibly.

"Don't you fucking dare cum." Tom demanded in her ear. His whole body was lying atop hers, smashing her down into the table as sirens wailed blocks away. He began forcing his thumb inside her as well, and Evelyn cried out. He continued moving his fingers in a come-here motion, making her back arch to try and dislodge him.

"Please, Sir..." she begged.

"Don't you fucking dare let those holes disobey me."

Evelyn's breathing was a ragged, sighing mess--a song of high notes and guttural moans. "Fucking please, Sir!"

"Don't you disobey, cunt."

The noises Evelyn made could be heard by the floors immediately below. Some owners brought their slaves out, fucking them on the balconies below as Evelyn endured her tortures. The sounds of other girls pleading drifted up from beneath the penthouse. At least one was being fucked to Evelyn's cries.

"Hear that, hole? You got other men so worked up they're railing their slaves. Think about all those poor girls, half your age, getting drilled because you wouldn't talk. Their suffering is because of your hungry snatch."

With her eyes still winced shut, Evelyn arched her back, a deep moan coming from her gut as her whole body stiffened.

"Don't you dare... You worthless fucksleave." He demanded as she squirted gushers around his hand.

And she cried out, thrashing her body uncontrollably, the wet, frantic noises of his hand working inside her were undeniable. Tom relaxed all his weight on her, crushing the woman into the metal table as flickering flames lit her face. It had been a couple of weeks since he fucked her properly, without dick she was getting uppity. He made a note to impale her more frequently, or bring home younger guys that could rail her all night without pause. An exhausted slave is a good slave.

Evelyn quaked in her post-climax bliss. Twenty years of slavery, and she was still utterly ashamed of how her body reacted in his grip. She was nothing more than putty, her needy hole slick clay to be molded. It was absolutely shameful to think about what she'd once been, now just holes for his amusement.

Tom waited patiently for her breathing to return to normal. She tried to hide the ragged breaths, but he'd owned her far too long to be fooled easily.

"Talk," He told her.

"Vargas tried to kill you," Evelyn whispered. "The fire was to distract him, but not for long."

"He'll blame me for it? I could probably do him first-"

"No," she interrupted, then added, "Sir."

"And?" he said impatiently.

"It's an old network with a grudge. The council will see you two fighting and kill both of you."

"If we get to open war, he'll do everything he can to take you out."

"Of course," Evelyn said. Talking about the big picture helped with her shame, anything that could take her mind off how she'd just been used like some cheap whore. "We need to offer the council something big. Big enough to take their minds off your petty squabble."

"You have something in mind?"

She licked her lips, knowing what she was about to say would doom some young woman to a life of servitude. But she'd done that several times before. "We need a girl. Legal in the US and compliant. We need her fast, and she needs to be trained in the next few months."

Tom's heavy breathing in her ear without any reply told her everything she needed to know. He was hooked, and he understood that whatever this distraction was, it was for the council. He'd be able to take out Varga on the sly. Of course, he was hooked.

"Once we have a slave that's not on the registry, we'll be able to free ourselves from the politics of this place..." Evelyn whispered. Tom turned his head to listen closely. Of course he was hooked. Of course he was.

*****

On her eighteenth birthday, Evan interrupted their usual ride home and stopped at a restaurant.

Nervous, Violet asked, "What's this?"

He chuckled, "It's your birthday, let's enjoy a celebratory drink."

"But... I can't," she said as the valet pulled open the door.

Evan patted her on the bare knee, just below her skirt, "Leave that to me."

The touch was the first of its kind. It flushed heat through Violet's tummy, catching her breath short. Boys her age had never dared such an intimate, casual touch. It excited her that a man was the first. Yet, there was a deep twinge of guilt. Evan was her coach's husband. He'd been giving her rides home from cheerleading practice since the end of last year, and now for a few months when school started again.

It wasn't just any restaurant, but one of the finest in town. Her mother had been there once on a date and talked about its elegance. Why would Evan be bringing her here, she wondered, especially after teasing her about having a drink.

A hand reached into the car. The valet offered it to Violet. She took it and was gently guided out. A moment later, Evan joined her, slipping the valet a folded bill. Placing an arm around Violet's shoulder, Evan guided her to the restaurant, where a doorman swept the doors open for them. Violet wondered how it must look, her still in her cheer outfit under the arm of a man twice her age. She avoided eye contact, choosing instead to look down at the ground rather than anyone's faces.

Her chest constricted, heart fluttering madly inside. She'd seen this in so many old movies, yet none of her peers had ever dared do anything so extravagant for her. Her dates so far had been trips to Olive Garden and Applebee's. His hand gripped her shoulder, guiding her with confidence she'd never seen in boys her age. His hot palm on her shoulder made her nervous and giddy at once.

"Ah, Mister Valentine," the concierge said, "a table for two?"

"Yes, a private table, Gus."

"Oh, course. Right this way."

Violet was impressed. Not only was Evan bringing her to one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, but he also seemed to know all the staff. The host escorted them down a wood-paneled hallway lined with pictures of actors and governors to a large room. There were booths along the walls and a small stage. It was some sort of banquet or small reception hall.

The lights were dim in the room except for a candle in one of the booths. Evan had obviously set this up, the private table, candle, and all. The host helped her into the booth and then left as Evan squeezed in tightly beside her. She couldn't help but feel a thrill as his hand brushed against her outer thigh, against bare skin.

Trying to control her breathing, Violet responded with short non-committal answers as Evan asked about her day. School was a bunch of silly kids and cliques playing drama games, and she couldn't wait to go to college after this year. She listened as he told her about his day running errands around the county for the school system and helping his wife with her coaching. The one bright point was when he told Violet he enjoyed their time together and that it was refreshing to talk about so many things with her without any judgment.

At the mention of judgment, she thought about the book she'd found in his car a few weeks back. The cover caught her attention. It showed a woman in a short nightgown, on her knees in chains, while a brute of a man stood over her, sword in hand, offering her to the viewer. When she asked about it, Evan seemed embarrassed and tried to take it from her, but she flipped it over to read the back.

The book was about a woman stolen from Earth and taken as a slave to another planet where men fought each other for honor and slaves. It seemed that all the women of this other world were slaves to men, used primarily to sate lusts. Just reading the description caused her to squirm. As long as Violet could remember, she'd fantasized about being helpless to men, tied up, rescued, and commanded. The blurb on the back of the book was a lifetime of validation.

She told Evan she wanted to read it, and she did, keeping it and never returning it. In the pages, she found a name for the fantasies that she'd always had when she touched herself to orgasm. She'd practiced being as quiet as possible and kept the book hidden. If her parents ever found it... She'd never be able to look her stepfather in the eyes.

After that, their conversations shifted. He began asking her questions about the boys at school, and she reported how disappointing they were. Feeling sly, she explained that she wished to meet a man who knew how to take charge and say exactly what he wanted, like in the book.

Evan surprised her, talking to her like an adult, and he explained that it was the same for men. He said that women were often confused about what they wanted, claiming to want equality and choice, but that was an absolute lie. He also stated that the best relationships in his life were those in which the woman appreciated the man taking charge.

Over the weeks, their conversation stretched into many adult topics Violet had never fully considered. She appreciated his honesty and willingness to discuss things that she knew her own family would be horrified even to hear mentioned.

And now this, the two of them sitting, legs touching, in a booth at the most expensive restaurant in town.

"Can I start you off with drinks?" a redheaded waitress asked. She didn't look much older than Violet, but had to be twenty-one to serve drinks. The waitress gave Violet a judgmental look after eyeing the much older Evan.

"I'll take a rum and coke. What would you like to drink?" Evan asked Violet.

"Umm... A Pina Colada," Violet said uncertainly.

"Can I see some ID?" the waitress said.

Violet felt her stomach lurch. She wasn't twenty-one, and her ID would confirm that. The thought of a scene in the restaurant, of police showing up, of having to explain to her mother or stepfather made her sick with anxiety. She looked with wide eyes at Evan, pleading silently for him just to take her home.

"Gus knows us," Evan said. "Why don't you ask him about it?"

When she looked at Violet, the waitress wrinkled her nose. "I'll do that."

Minutes later, the waitress delivered their drinks without saying a word.

"Why a Pina Colada?" Evan asked.

"It's tropical, like that island you mentioned."

"Isla Serene? Did you visit their website?"

"I did..." she said.

Primed on the alternate earth fantasies where women were taken as slaves by sword-wielding barbarians, learning there was a single Caribbean island where slavery was still legal triggered all the right buttons. The thought that something like that existed so close to the US, took her breath away. A flight to Florida, and then a short charter jet later, was a place where she imagined women still served in chains.

"I went there when I was thirty," Evan said. "I met my wife there."

The official site didn't provide much information on the status of their current laws, but other shady sites did. Midway between Belize and Jamaica, the island nation of Ilsa Serene was an oddity among its many neighbors. Where other islands openly reported their struggles to feed their people, Isla Serene was shrouded in mystery. Pictures on the site showed tropical beaches, manicured landscapes, and modern high-rise hotels that only the fabulously wealthy could afford.

"Coach Beliza is from Isla Serena?" Violet whispered conspiratorially.

Some speculated that the slavery laws were the Island's big secret. It was impossible to find any information on what happened on the island, but it was a hub for multiple hedonist cruises operating in the region. Entire cruise ships of swingers and sex tourists visited the island and fucked to heart's content. Even the thought of being on a cruise like that made Violet giddy.

"Let's not talk about her. I came here to celebrate with you."

Evan gazed into her eyes. It was hard to put into words what she was thinking about, as he stared at her, without feeling like a complete slut. If her parents or relatives ever had an inkling she had such thoughts, she'd be disowned in an instant. And so, saying what she thought was more than challenging, it was impossible.

She didn't have to. Evan leaned in and kissed her.

The initial surprise shocked her to the core. Violet went rigid. Her initial reaction was to protest, but it died on her lips. This is what she'd wanted ever since she read about the space warrior from another planet taking Earth girls as slaves. She wanted a man to take charge.

"Spread your legs," he whispered as he broke the kiss.

Unable to breathe, she did exactly that, forcing her knees apart as his hand slid under her cheerleading skirt. His lips crushed again to hers, and she closed her eyes, lost in the machine gun fire of her heart thumping loudly in her chest. His fingers slid up, touching her pussy through sodden panties, and she was ashamed of how wet she was.

"Good girl," he said.

She'd waited her whole life to hear those words. School honor roll, varsity cheer, and hours of charity work --none had elicited a single positive word from her parents. Evan changed her world. She wanted to hear it repeatedly, and at that moment, she knew she would do anything he told her to hear him say it again.

******

Evelyn set the drink tray on the console table in the entry foyer when she heard the doorbell chime. The party swirled on behind her, Tom discussing business with associates far off in the living room. She answered wearing nothing more than her slave collar and high heels locked to her ankles.

Opening the door, she curtsied deeply, which made her knees protest in pain. There was a time when she could curtsy all day long without issue. Too much time on her knees servicing others had taken its toll, she thought.

Her smile was still dazzling with perfect teeth that had never yellowed. Her eyes, on the other hand, although just as enchanting, had the beginning of crows' feet that she fretted about frequently. She had to force her smile to remain when she saw the man in the hallway.

"Master Vargas, always an honor to have your esteemed presence grace Sir's domicile."

Vargas let his gaze wander down Evelyn's bare body, lingering as always on her ample chest. He walked past her, holding out his dinner jacket in disdain. "Find a wooden hanger for that, cunt."

"Of course, sir," she said, taking his jacket as if handed a ticking bomb. She knew that any mishandling would result in a complaint and public lashing.

"And fetch me a drink, whiskey," he added as he stepped past her while smacking her ass painfully hard.

Even knowing the blow was coming, Evelyn couldn't contain her gasp. She staggered forward, trying to regain her balance on the heels. A naked young woman stood in the hallway, looking up when Evelyn stumbled. The slave girl was blonde with thick, smeared mascara around wide, terrified eyes. She stepped forward, reaching out to help Evelyn, then thought better of it and snapped her hands quickly behind her back.

Vargas turned, looking at her, "Did you say something, hole?"

"No, sir. Yes, sir, I have a selection of drinks right here."

The younger slave broke eye contact and blushed. She was probably still in training, still ashamed to be taken naked everywhere, paraded through the streets as a trophy. She was pretty enough, with a baby face, but well-developed breasts. Evelyn wondered for a moment if she was a willing slave on the island. The unwilling were severely discouraged, but Vargas, who was on the council, could bend the rules.

It was a shame Vargas had claimed the pretty little slave. She would have been perfect for the plot Evelyn and Tom had planned.

"Buchanan's Special Reserve," Vargas stated. His dark eyes locked on Evelyn's, and she felt a chill run up her spine.

"Only by request, sir. I'd be more than happy to fetch a glass for you from the kitchen."

Vargas lifted a hand and took Evelyn's face in it. His thumb traced the corner of her eye. His pretty little slave looked up again nervously but said nothing.

"The crow's feet are starting to show. Without your looks, think he'll get tired of that worn out pussy of yours?"

Evelyn took a breath, waiting to see if more poison would spill from his mouth, then answered through her brilliant smile, "I live only to serve the desires of my master."

Vargas whispered, "You live only because he does. Fetch that whiskey and have my sow deliver it to me."

"Yes, sir," Evelyn said, then told his slave, "This way."

The living room had a dozen guests and another dozen slaves. The men stood in small clusters of three or four, chatting among themselves over drinks, while the women knelt, stood, or were bent over furniture. The men were paying no attention to the slaves they'd posed or placed throughout the room. The slaves weren't even allowed to chat among themselves. They were just there as dressing, living works of art to be enjoyed when the men decided.

Heels clicking across tile, Evelyn made her way quickly to the kitchen, inside two young naked slaves snickered as they gossiped and loaded a tray with hors d'oeuvres.

"Girls," Evelyn announced, "Protocol please."

The two slaves at the counter exchanged glances but straightened up and kept quiet. The slave of Darius Marsh, owner of the Serena del la Sol Resort, let her eyes linger on Evelyn's hips, her self-satisfied smirk told Evelyn everything she needed to know. The elderly slave had no time for antics. This party was key in Tom's scheme to divert the attention of Isla Serena's ruling council away from the escalating feud that Vargas intended to turn into a full-blown war. The Island could not afford another coup.

"If you please, I have instructions to impart on a fledgling sister," Evelyn said warmly while gesturing to Vargas' slave, who had followed her meekly.

The serving girls gave the slightest of curtsies as protocol demanded, then left with several trays of food. The impertinent serving girl gave a last look and wrinkled her nose on the way out. Evelyn was satisfied knowing that the girl would probably not last the twenty years Evelyn had.

"Fetch me a tumbler from the glass shelves to the right of the refrigerators," Evelyn told Vargas' slave. From the liquor cabinet, Evelyn sifted through bottles, finding the whiskey that he had requested. The bottle cost nearly a thousand dollars, a Vargas move to demand your rival pay such a price, Evelyn thought.

Turning back to the fridges, Evelyn saw the young slave holding a tumbler. She took the glass and pushed it against the ice dispenser on the closest refrigerator.

"New?" Evelyn asked, as the ice cubes made a lonely sound inside the glass.

"Excuse me, miss?" the young slave crossed her now empty hands in front of her body, instinctively hiding her cunt.

Evelyn eyed the girl, wondering what part of her single-word question had been misunderstood. A slave that afraid of her own shadow would make dumb mistakes and taste the whip frequently.

"Are you new to Isla Serena?"

"Yes, miss. I was-"

"Stop," Evelyn demanded as she turned to face her younger counterpart. "I didn't ask about the how, just the time."

"Yes, miss. Two weeks."

Evelyn nodded while her eyes inspected the other slave. She said slowly and matter-of-factly, "Inspect."

The slave blinked at her. She really was new here. There was no hint of protocol training.

"My master owns this penthouse," Evelyn explained. "That makes me top girl. Lesser status slaves should always obey their betters... Unless you would like a canning to remind you of your position."

"No, miss!" The slave girl shot into Inspection pose instantly. Her feet were spread wide, her hands at the back of her neck, and tits thrust out.

Evelyn walked around the woman. Her collar was plain black leather with metal loops on each side. Metal letters had been driven into the leather spelling out, "cock-socket." While make-up was the norm for all slaves to look their best for their owners, Cock-socket had thick mascara, making her look like a raccoon. Worse still, it had run down each cheek, as if the slave had been crying.

Inspecting Cock-socket's back side, Evelyn saw raw fresh stripes, left by a whip. There were bruises on the girl's thighs and hips, probably just enthusiastic fucking and not torture, but it showed that Vargas liked to use his holes hard. The girl flinched when Evelyn's fingertips traced the crisscrossing lines.

"How often does he use you?"

Cock-socket paused entirely too long, but Evelyn let it slide. She needed info more than respect right now.

"Several times a day." Cock-socket finally choked out as Evelyn moved around in front of her.

"Oh! You poor thing, how terrible," Evelyn leaned into Cock-sockets shoulder, her hand coming up to touch the young girl's face. "Is it just him?"

A shudder went through the young woman, "No, miss. At night, I'm left to entertain his guards." She swayed awkwardly, trying to keep her hands at her neck as the older woman's arms went around her in a soft embrace.

"Relax, dear," Evelyn whispered, easing the slave's arms around her so they embraced each other. "We're two sisters here. The only comfort you will ever get will be from sisters who have gone through exactly what you have."

Cock-socket relaxed into Evelyn's embrace, possibly the first touch of warmth the young woman had experienced in several weeks. Evelyn petted the slave's back. The older woman didn't bother with a self-satisfied smile. Such emotional displays were a waste of time. She had work to do, and very little time to do it.

"I know how cruel Vargas can be. I'm sure there will be other firsthand examples tonight," Evelyn cooed softly into Cock-socket's ear. "Tell me about his guards..."

*****

"Mateo," Tom greeted Vargas warmly, forcing himself to pretend their rivalry was nothing more than a difference of opinion. "Glad you could make this council meeting. I've cooked up something big."

The two men faced off. They were not that different from each other physically. Both were broad-chested and fit despite their advanced ages. Where Vargas was olive-skinned and proudly Latino, Tom had cultivated his Euro-American looks. Tom was larger, both in girth and height, his once-dark hair was riddled with salt and pepper streaks. Vargas had to look up to see into Tom's cold slate-grey eyes, something he hated. It was rare for a six-foot man to have to look up to anyone. When they shook hands, each flexed, gripping firmly, like two bodybuilders squaring off against each other.

"If it moves business forward, I'm all ears," Vargas said, looking away quickly. That Vargas refused to look Tom in the face was a constant irritation to Tom. It displayed Vargas' insecurities unmasked. Vargas watched a thin platinum-haired slave writhing on a pole in the corner of the living room, as a small band played Caribbean music, mostly techno-reggae.

"Better than that, it gets the US and the fucking CIA off our backs permanently," Tom said, looking down at his rival. He wanted to reach out and choke the life out of the man, but ruling an island, even a small Caribbean one, required political compromise.

Vargas glanced up at him, "Now that in itself would be a coup. What's the plan?"

"More details when the council meeting starts proper. But, we'll all need to work together in unison on this one."

"Just like the old days?" Vargas said with a fake smile.

Tom nodded, "Exactly."

"Question for you, about reliving the old days..." Vargas said, dragging the question out. "Is it Evelyn's idea?"

"She helped brainstorm it-"

Vargas interrupted, "Which means it's all hers. Don't trust her, it could be a trap to let them walk in and take control."

Tom stared down at Vargas, controlling the urge to throttle the man. "You've fucked a lot of slaves... But I don't think you understand women."

"I don't need to understand them," Vargas said. "Holes are slaves. Good for milking cock and nothing else. Attempting to understand their fickle whims will get you fucked and not them. Speaking of which... I'd like to use Evelyn tonight."

Tom marveled at the man's audacity. "And why would I allow you use of my property?"

"I've already told a few guests that her services are needed. I'll ask publicly a little later. Deny the request and it starts to look like you are getting sweet on your cunt, letting that fat prick of yours get confused by pussy. I'd hate the council meeting to start with that on everyone's mind. Especially since this definitely is Evelyn's scheme."

"She'd cut her nose off before making a deal with the CIA, they killed her fucking husband," Tom said, instantly regretting that he swore. It added an emotional weight that he didn't want to sully his arguments with.

"Without a firm hand, a hole is an erratic, senseless creature. You know as well as I that a hard dicking is the only way to keep them in line. And you've had her twenty years now... are you still fucking her like you used to? Keeping her in her proper place? Some are asking questions. Have you gotten attached?"

Tom hated being backed into a corner. It was indeed Evelyn's plan. The council would suspect that it was her idea. She was just a slave, however, and if it were known to have been hatched by her, it would be dead on arrival. Tom could deny Vargas her use, but it would look like he was getting soft, letting a bitch fuck with his head. He hated the thought of giving Vargas anything he wanted. Vargas was obviously angry at the loss of his hotel and wanted to make Evelyn pay for it through public humiliation.

"Don't fucking forget that I was the one that found those laws still on the books," Tom snarled. He covered it with a smile, but his eyes broadcast murder. "I'm the one that dusted them off and got us this little paradise. Only because of me do you have that bald little cunt on a leash right now."

"Fine, fine. You're right. The men on this island owe you everything, from an island to call our own, to the bitches we keep in chains," Vargas said, then reached out to pat Tom's shoulder. "But a little sign that you are keeping the faith would go a long way."

*****

Evan was driving her home the long way, through Madison Park. The twisting roads through manicured forests added another twenty minutes to the drive, but it was time when Violet was treated as an adult. Since her birthday, the conversations had taken a spicier turn, with both her and Evan exploring each other's dating and sex habits. Violet loved the confidence in Evan's voice. He'd done so many things, with so many women. When he talked, it sounded like he knew his way around women's bodies expertly.

Violet, on the other hand, had little to offer him in return. There had been awkward dates in the past, with fumbling coltish boys who had no clue what they were doing. Even worse, though, they were only interested in pleasing themselves. She'd had sex, but it was an embarrassing affair, frequently ruined with boys asking permission at every single step. Too embarrassed to just end the liaisons, Violet had let them fumble at her body and finish quickly so she could get it over with.

Worse still, word had gotten out that she'd slept with a few boys. Her classmates treated her entirely differently once that was discovered. She was no longer the shy wallflower at the back of the class, but the slut to be shamed mercilessly by all. Girls sniggered at her, along with their boyfriends. The boys were rude in public, but privately would ask her to sneak off with them to parks or worse.

It all had a devastating effect on Violet, who spiraled into her own head and books for affection. Her bodice-ripper romances were a fantasy she hoped might happen after college. And then she discovered Even's books of fantasy slavery. She wondered what it would be like for a real man to simply take charge.

"You've never had a guy go down on you?" Evan asked incredulously.

Blushing Violet put a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. "No."

"You're kidding me... No one?"

"No... Guys are just into getting themselves off."

"No," Evan said. "Boys are selfish. Men take care of their girls."

"I wish," she said, then noticed the car pulling into a secluded parking spot. "What's going on?"

Evan put the car in park and turned, looking at Violet. "You deserve to experience this. You're an adult now, no more boys. Get in the back seat, I'm going down on you."

She felt giddy. Butterflies tumbled in her stomach. He was serious. "I..."

"No. Get in the back seat." He demanded.

It was not a question. Not an ask. There was no begging for permission. He told her exactly what he expected, and in that, Violet felt her insides melting. She fumbled for the door and got out of the car. Nervously, she reentered, sitting on the backseat awkwardly in her cheer outfit.

Evan tinkered with the car radio for a moment, letting one of her playlists start playing on it. It was her moody list, soft songs of misunderstanding. That choice made her chest flutter, as if he'd read her mind, had picked that music just for her.

He entered the backseat, sitting far away against the door. She wanted to move closer, but was unsure what to do. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess.

"Give me your leg," he told her.

Her mind awhirl she lifted the leg closest to him and slid it along the seat.

Evan took her knee, then pulled her firmly toward him. As she slid along the seat, her skirt bunching up lewdly under her, Violet couldn't help but relish the way he just moved her like an object. She was putty in his hands. He pulled the knee up high letting her leg bend against the seat back.

Without any hesitation, he bent over into her parted thighs. Kissing her along the inside of her legs. Violet moaned, unsure what to do with her hands. One, as if of its own volition, went to the top of his head, fingers combing gently through his hair. She gripped the top edge of the back seat with her other hand. Her stomach fluttered madly, nerves threatening to drive her senseless.

Evan exhaled a long, hot teasing breath along the inside of her upper thigh. The anticipation alone was driving Violet insane. She knew Evan would see her and worried that he might find the sight distasteful. No one had ever had their face that close to her before. What if he thought she looked gross, or worse, smelled funny?

He turned his head, exhaling hot breath along the other thigh as he reached up, cupping her through the cheer bloomers. Unlike panties, these were thick Lycra, dulling his touch, but the contact was still electrifying. Like her other liaisons, she was now at a point where she could do nothing but go through with things to their conclusion. She prayed this would end better than the fumbling boys she'd been with.

The kisses on her thighs began as his fingers probed through the fabric, finding her core. Afraid to do anything, Violet froze up completely, trying to sort out the jumbled mess of sensations ripping through her like a frenzied hurricane.

Two of his fingers traced the edge of her bloomers, on either side of her lips. The contact so close to her pussy that it made her squirm uncontrollably. The bare flesh just surrounding the sports panties had never had fingers as deft that were not her own. She shuddered, sighing in anticipation.

Electric nips of teeth now dotted her inner thighs, and she squealed with the first one. Ashamed, she moved her hand off the seat back and covered her mouth. The butterflies went wild when she felt his fingers slip under the bloomers, touching skin and lips.

Still showering her in kisses and gentle nips, he tugged her bloomers aside. Even though she dreaded doing it, Violet lifted and wriggled her ass to make it easier for him to uncover her. She held her breath as he lifted his head away and she could see him staring into her.

"Your pussy is so beautiful."

Her pussy was beautiful, she wanted to cry out in joy. He liked it. Unsure what to say she stumbled for words until he leaned down and put his mouth around her.

"Oh..." she gasped.

His tongue traced her, glid across lips, and explored her opening. She was driven incoherent, only able to exhale shuddering sighs as he lapped at her. He did indeed know what he was doing, there was no fumbling, no clumsiness as his tongue found and circled her clit expertly.

She could feel a tension winding up deep inside her, surprised by how quickly it overwhelmed her. Her hand on the backseat, unsure what to do, nails dug into the fabric. As she squirmed, she released the seat and moved her hand to her uniformed breasts. With a squeeze she mauled one of her own tits, finding and pinching a nipple through the thick skintight fabric. An electric jolt shot from her chest deep down into her cunt making her dizzy with sensation. Her other hand had a death grip on Evan's hair, but he wasn't complaining. He was singularly focused on teasing her.

At first, his explorations failed to touch her just the right way. When he did, though, she couldn't help but sigh in total satisfaction. Soon enough, he'd figured out just how to make those sighs cycle endlessly.

His tongue stroked, circled, and teased her clit, causing ragged waves of pleasure to wash through her. Each time she climbed that apex, sure she was about to tip over the peak, he would change targets, licking her in a way that didn't add anything, or he would stop altogether. The torment of being so close only to be teased cold was maddening.

"Please..." she begged, unaware that she had even vocalized.

And then he sucked, his tongue hammering on her relentlessly. She crushed her breast in her own hand and felt the tension mount to breaking point.

Her gurgling screams drowned out the music as she thrashed. Evan refused to let her go chasing the orgasm with an unrelenting tongue. When her senses returned to a ghost of herself, she discovered her hands pushing him away, begging, "Please! No more..."

Laughing, he rubbed his face in her, soaking in her ample juices. She shuddered uncontrollably, hugging herself in the glow of her first orgasm inspired by another.

She felt awkward. He'd made her feel so good, she wanted to return the favor, give him anything he wanted to feel as sensational as she just had. When she reached down to pull him up to her, he pressed a hand on her chest and pushed her back down.

"No," he whispered between laps of her sodden pussy. "This is all about you. Relax and enjoy. Lay back now."

Unsure what to say or how to respond to such generosity, she instinctively obeyed, lying back to let him continue devouring her.

*****

"I'd like to use your bitch. My latest acquisition isn't up to my standards in her oral skills yet," Vargas said with a sly smile like he was being clever. "Evelyn has been sucking masters off for twenty years, she could certainly give my girl a few pointers."

The three men Vargas had been speaking with quieted, taking sips of their drinks as they watched the power play unfold.

"A slave's first duty is to entertain. Including anyone her master demands of her," Tom replied without hesitation. He grabbed the nearest woman and instructed, "Fetch the top girl, now."

Tom continued, "I see you have a new girl. I'd ask the same, to evaluate her skills. It might be interesting to change things up."

Vargas lifted his tumbler playing to the three businessmen he'd been chatting with, "To change then, the kind that opens doors, not slams them shut."

"Doors are like slaves," Tom said coolly, swirling his drink. "Only useful if you control what goes through them. Otherwise, they're just holes.

Tom didn't like being ambushed, and that was exactly what Vargas had just done. Tom had approached the group in hopes of dressing down Vargas in front of them. Vargas instead drew first blood.

"Spoken like a man clinging to what he has while the world around him outgrows those walls... or holes." Vargas chuckled, then quickly added, "We were just talking about expanding trade with the States."

Tom looked at the other three men quietly nursing their drinks. All businessmen, each wanting to broaden markets and become a serf-state of the U. S. economy.

Vargas continued, "Spying on Cuba won't pay the bills forever. More trade is the future, you know it."

"I know a lot of things, like how men who rush toward the future get trampled by those who shape it," Tom said. If these four were talking about expanding markets, they might form a block against the plan Tom was proposing tonight. Vargas was the least of his worries if that happened.

"Shape it? Or suffocate it?" Vargas snarled, realizing that in the eyes of his peers, he was losing this play.

"Well," Tom looked Vargas in the eyes. "That depends on who's breathing at the end of it."

The flash of anger on Vargas' face was all Tom needed to know Evelyn had been right. Vargas had tried to kill him.

Evelyn appeared at Tom's side with a curtsey, "Sir? Can I be of use?"

"Vargas has requested your services," Tom said, watching Evelyn close for any sign of disgust.

"If that's your wish, Sir, I'd be honored," Evelyn said in what appeared to be complete sincerity. Tom knew otherwise.

Tom explained to Evelyn, "The cunt he brought tonight is new and apparently not adequately skilled in pleasing men orally. Given your long experience with this, he felt you would be a natural instructor."

"It would be my pleasure," Evelyn said with her brilliant smile, even when looking at Vargas. "Where would you like the instruction to take place?"

Vargas smiled back warmly, "Right here."

"Of course, sir," Evelyn said without missing a beat. She dropped to her knees in front of Vargas while wearing a look of pure satisfaction on her face.

When Evelyn reached up to the zipper of his slacks, he stopped her and barked at his slave, "Get me a chair."

Once delivered, Vargas sat down on the chair and spread his knees wide. Cock-socket knelt by one of his knees, getting a front row seat of the performance.

Tom nursed his drink with the other businessmen, watching as Evelyn crawled up between the spread legs. The event, a slave serving someone publicly, was so common that it generated no further interest from the other attendees. Some of the other slaves, however, were watching from where they had been placed.

Deft fingers that had undone countless trouser openings had Vargas exposed in an instant. She looked at his cock with unmasked hunger. Tom knew, and suspected the other watching did as well, that it was an act Evelyn had been performing for decades.

She whispered as she wrapped her fingers around it and stroked, "You are so beautiful. What a magnificent cock."

"Get to it," Vargas said flatly.

Evelyn leaned forward with pursed lips and touched the tip of the cock gently. "So beautiful," she whispered again. She then dragged the tip across her face, leaving web strands of precum on her skin. She didn't just rub it across herself, she acted as if even doing this little was of orgasmic importance.

One of Vargas's hands grabbed Evelyn's platinum bun at the back of her head, shoving her face into his crotch. Evelyn sucked him into her mouth noisily, disappointed that Vargas had ruined much of her pre-sword swallowing performance.

Tightening his hand into a fist, he began guiding her face down on him, then would pull on the bun to make her withdraw. Vargas snapped his fingers and handed his empty glass to the Cock-socket, who set it aside on the floor while continuing to watch closely. He placed his second hand on the back of Evelyn's head and slammed her down into him.

Evelyn choked, but did not slow. She sealed her lips around his tool now slick with her saliva. Closing her eyes, she let him drive her down and yank her back up without any protest. She'd trained her gag reflex over many years to accommodate exactly what was happening.

Vargas face-fucked the older slave without mercy, driving his hips up hard into her as drool spilled out of her mouth, coating him. Her gurgled grunts and gasps seemed to drive him on with more force, slamming himself into her repeatedly. Evelyn made all the noises she knew men like Vargas enjoyed, choking, gagging, and sputtering loudly for the pleasure of the small audience.

"Look at me, cunt," Vargas demanded. Evelyn forced her eyes open as he drove his prick deep into the back of her throat and held it there. Her eyebrows rose as tears welled in her eyes. With both hands he held her there looking down at her, choking her with his cock. Her body convulsed, but Evelyn refused to release him or look away. Her face turned bright crimson.

"Remember, that's my property," Tom said softly.

With a grunt, Vargas shoved Evelyn away, letting her cough and sputter as she tried to catch a quick breath. He slammed back into her and began rocking her head back and forth as he stabbed his hip into her. Evelyn's fingernails left red welts on her thighs as she gripped tightly, trying to control her body.

"Fuck..." Vargas hissed. He jammed his cock down her throat again and held her there, forcing her to look up through tear swollen eyes. He groaned loudly, and Evelyn gulped. Before she could finish he withdrew letting one blast shoot across her face, and another dribble down across her fat tits. Evelyn gasped trying to breathe around a mouthful of jizz. She held her mouth open, tongue pressed to the front of her mouth to show off the load he'd sprayed inside her.

Cock-socket looked at Evelyn with concern, surprised the older woman had been able to endure such a savage face fucking without complaint. She hovered between wanting to comfort the woman she thought was a sister and utter fear of the man sitting over her.

"Swallow," Vargas said.

Evelyn made a show of closing her lips with a smile, as the remnants of tear stains streaked her face. She gulped loudly, then opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue to display that nothing was left. She smiled, but she looked exhausted.

When Evelyn lifted a hand to wipe her face, Vargas barked, "No! Leave it there. Wear my cum with pride."

"Yes, sir," she said as her hands went back to her thighs.

"I think we all deserve to see if your slave learned anything in that performance," Tom said.

"Mi casa es su casa," Vargas said as Cock-socket zipped him back up. She glanced up at him, then looked over at Tom, and finally at Evelyn. With the slightest nod, Evelyn signaled Cock-socket.

Cock-socket closed her tear-filled eyes and crawled across the floor in front of the small group of men. The men continued drinking, but the conversation had come to a halt. Dressed in their suits, they stood over the two naked women who were there only as objects to satisfy lust.

Tom shifted to lean against the back of a leather couch. He spread his legs slowly, indicating exactly what Cock-socket should be doing. She got the hint and crawled on hand and knees to him. She looked up at his face once with watery eyes, then resigned herself to the task at hand. Her fingers came up to the front of his pants. She did not have the decade of practice that Evelyn did, and so fumbled at the belt, button, and zipper, taking much longer. Tom stared down at her, impatient but serious.

When Cock-socket finally freed Tom from the confines of his pants, she gasped and sat kneeling back on her feet. His thick cock only semi hard stared her in the face. He wasn't terribly long, but thicker than any she'd seen before, even when shared among Vargas' men.

Evelyn crawled up behind her and placed a hand between the younger slave's shoulders, urging her on. Cock-socket sighed and leaned into Tom's crotch, finding the tip with her lips and sucking him inside her. She could barely stretch her mouth wide enough to take him, and he wasn't completely hard yet.

Her hands came up to wrap around his meat, stroking him, and she wet her mouth, covering him in spittle to swallow him with more ease. Even when she pressed forward, she couldn't get much more than the tip past her lips. He was simply too wide for her throat to accommodate. Tom continued watching, but his brow creased in frustration. He nodded at Evelyn.

Evelyn, kneeling between the two, reached up and gently took the back of Cock-sockets head in one hand. She urged the girl forward in an effort to take more of Tom's cock. The young slave choked and whined.

Disappointed at the terrible performance, Evelyn pushed hard, shoving the slave's face down. Cock-socket panicked, shoving Tom away and sputtering for air. She looked up in apology to Tom and saw only a hard stare returned.

Fearing punishment Cock-socket thrust her face back onto Tom's fat prick and gurgled around him. Evelyn helped shove the girl down with more force. The slave convulsed and coughed violently around Tom as her small audience laughed.

Tom shook his head at Evelyn, who nodded back in disappointment. She wound her fingers in cock-sockets blonde hair and pulled her off her master.

Coughing, Cock-socket begged, "I'm sorry, it's so big."

Evely rose on one foot, pulling the slave's blonde hair with her. Cock-socket understood and climbed to her feet next to Evelyn, forcing herself to look down at the floor so she couldn't see the men around her chuckling. As Tom moved aside, Evelyn guided the young woman's nude body over the back of the couch, pulling her down to bend her over.

While Tom stroked himself in front of the crowd, Evelyn quickly squatted behind the younger slave. Reaching up, she pulled the tight, muscular cheeks apart, showing off the slave's holes. She spat on the exposed cunt, then again, then onto her own fingertips and reached between the woman's legs to massage her spit into the displayed cunt.

Tom pushed Evelyn aside and grabbed Cock-socket by a hip. He gripped his cock like a spear and pressed it up into the bent slave. With a grunt, he shoved, making the slave cry out. With a couple of grunts and thrusts of his hips, Tom forced his way into the slave as she made wounded animal noises.

Without giving the impaled slave any time to accommodate her violation, Tom gripped the slave by the waist and began pounding into her. Her gasps and cries caused many at the party to glance over, but a slave being used to grease a weasel was so publicly common that all went back to the conversations. Only the eyes of the slaves in the room, and the small group of men surrounding Tom continued watching the newbie slave get fucked the way slaves were made to be.

As Tom churned his prick inside her he told his audience, "She's tight, but doesn't know how to use that cunt. Or those cock sucking lips. She didn't learn a single thing from my cunt."

Varga watched quietly, sipping his drink in evident fury. While Evelyn the old whore had accomplished her task deftly, his own much younger girl was a miserable failure. Evelyn glanced at him with a smile, letting her eyes fall to the floor in deference to a master, but the message was clear: she and Tom were mocking him. He'd sparred with Tom before, but to have a cunt openly treat him like this was too much. He seethed in silent anger.

With a long groan, Tom continued slamming his hips against the much smaller slave. The slapping of their flesh continued, but the unmistakable sloshing sounds that now joined the cadence told everyone that Tom had emptied himself in her. The tortured woman's gasps quieted as it became easier for the man in her to thrust deeply. Finished, Tom pushed himself away from Cock-socket suddenly, and she gasped as his hot spunk spilled freely down her thighs, gurgling out of her for all to see.

Dazed the new slave lay bent over the couch too senseless to know what to do but let his cum dribble down her legs. Evelyn dropped to her knees, sucking Tom's cock into her mouth and cleaning him quickly. She released him with a pop, then used her tongue to clean the rest of the frothing mess from him before carefully tucking him back in his pants.

"Thank you, Sir," Evelyn said through her dazzling smile, looking every bit like a slave in love with her lord.

Tom looked at Vargas indifferently. "Not even a thank you from the cunt. Feel free to send her to me for any additional training or refresher sessions. I'll get that snatch trained proper in no time, but you really need to get her enrolled in appropriate schooling."

Before Vargas could reply, a man in an exquisitely tailored suit announced to the group, "Gentlemen, glad you could indulge in a touch of fun, but the rest of us think it's time to get the meeting started. Then we can have our entertainments as well."

Tom clapped the new man on the shoulder, "Of course, Daven, we're all eager to get to business."

*****

While Tom directed the slaves on how to arrange the furniture in the living room for the council meeting, and the men stood in small clusters watching, Evelyn took Cock-socket and retreated to a private bathroom deeper in the penthouse. She guided the younger woman along with a hand on the bare back of the woman her Master had just spattered with cum.

When the younger slave turned the water on to wipe the spunk off her face, Evelyn stopped her. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. You can't do that. Until you are told to clean it off, you will be expected to wear that, even if it's not your master's."

"No..." the young slave whispered. "It's just gross."

"No," Evelyn said matter-of-factly, like a schoolteacher, which she felt she was right now. "You were used by a man. It's the highest and only form of flattery on Isla Serena."

Cock-socket started to protest, and Evelyn stopped her.

"I'm saving you from a beating, anything a master puts on you, you wear until told otherwise. And more than that, you show it off with pride."

The young slave's eyes brimmed with tears, but she remained quiet.

"Good girl," Evelyn said and stroked the younger woman's shoulder tenderly. "Think for moment, have you been beaten for wiping cum off you face by Vargas? Even if he didn't tell you."

Cock-socket thought a moment and nodded, "I think so. He said nothing, but after... going down on him, he smeared it across my eyes. When he was finished, I wiped my face with my hands, and he grabbed me by the hair and..."

"I'm so sorry, but I don't need the details. I can only imagine." Evelyn said and hugged the other woman. "Your master is cruel and enjoys using the lash. I'm so sorry he owns you."

"But your master was cruel as well," Cock-socket said.

"No," Evelyn corrected. "He was as gentle with you as he could be..."

"But it fucking hurt..." Cock-socket said, her hand instinctively moving to cover her pussy.

Evelyn nodded sagely, "His girth... can be painful. Especially if you're not used to it. But it gets easier with time."

"I didn't know what I was signing up for..."

"But here you are. Just take things one day at a time." Evelyn consoled. "And let me give you some advice that will help... When you are instructed to watch another girl perform, take note of what is happening. I put on a performance for you, and you didn't use any of it when you were tested. I can show more things that will help make life here on the Isle easier... but you have to do something for me."

"What's that?" Cock-socket said with suspicion. Evelyn understood the slave's hesitation; she'd been brought here and treated far more roughly than she ever imagined, everyone wanted something from her, and now the only friendly person was asking for something.

"Ask him if you can get more training from me..."

"I'm afraid to ask for anything. The slightest things set him off." Cock-socket said with wide eyes.

Evelyn nodded, "Women, slaves especially, have to be more subtle and clever. Wait a week and ask him then."

"How does a week change anything?"

"Because I'm going to give you a crash course in oral performance, and you are going to tell him that you learned a lot just watching me. If you could get training from me, who knows how hard his nuts will bust. If he agrees, you get a few hours a day, or maybe even a few days, to spend here with me, where you won't be beaten for the slightest thing."

"Okay," Cock-socket said. Her eyes brimmed with hope at the thought of escaping her master even for short periods.

"Good," Evelyn said, hugging her. "Now let me tell you about sucking a master's cock..."

*****

When Tom opened the bathroom door Cock-socket was fellating two of her own fingers while Evelyn gave her pointers. He eyed the two girls suspiciously and the younger slave slipped her fingers from her mouth.

"No!" Evelyn said. "Never let a cock out of you mouth without permission... It is the most exhilarating thing any cunt could hope to have grace her."

Cock-socket looked confused at Tom then Evelyn, but shyly slid her fingers back into her mouth.

"And that's the other thing. Kill your shame. As a slave, you no longer have any. You are expected to service men, and that could be any number of things other women wouldn't do. Display your holes, suck cocks, or pussies, put things in you that would make a whore blush. But you do it with a smile, knowing a master asked you to please him. Understood?"

Choking on her fingers, the woman nodded.

"Top girl, I need to speak to alone..." Tom stated, a curious look on his face about the exchange he'd just witnessed.

"Of course, Sir. Beverly, it's been lovely spending time training you, but I have duties to attend. You can remove the cock from your mouth." Evely told Cock-socket. She turned and asked Tom, "Is this about the hors d'oeuvres for the meeting? I told those girls to pace themselves better..."

Cock-socket thanked Evelyn and squeezed out of the bathroom around Tom. The younger girl avoided any eye contact, perhaps still shamed from her public use by Tom over the couch back.

"What was that?" Tom asked.

"Inroads to house Vargas. He has a very angry and spiteful slave in his midst." Evely said quietly to ensure she wasn't heard by anyone else.

"Are you talking about Vargas or me?"

"I live to serve, Sir. I would never sully the reputation of my master by speaking ill of his wonderful and loving firm hand."

"You really do love the belt, don't you?"

"No, Sir. My apologies, we have bigger things to concern ourselves with."

"Your recon?" Tom asked.

"Exactly as we thought. Vargas and his block of businessmen are the largest faction. That's the battleground. Vargas will support you enthusiastically, however, just in hopes of an ambush later."

"You're confident. What about the rest of them?"

"Mixed. You'll have to focus on the profit angle. If they catch any hint of danger, they'll get cold feet. Especially in light of the sanctions that the Baines administration has imposed on us."

"President Thorne is no better," Tom said, "An isolationist that wants to sever ties with all the old players."

"He's a blowhard, and that's just wind. He'll say anything he thinks the American voters want... but play him just so, and he'll forget he ever made that promise. But don't go there in the council meeting... Hype up the danger of the current president and how his sanctions will set us back thirty years."

"Alright... the business block is split... focus on profit," Tom said more to himself than to Evelyn. "Who is solidly with us?"

"Sterling and Morello... Perhaps the military block." Evelyn said.

"And how did you get all this?"

"Girls talk. Especially after a man has shot his load, they become... quite girlish themselves in this respect."

"Any other man on this island would stripe that ass red..."

Evelyn smiled demurely, "Good thing you know I'm more than just a cunt, but one with a mind."

Tom didn't return the smile. "So really, maybe only three or four councilors I need to convince?"

"I think you've got this." Evelyn said.

"You better hope so... your life is on the line as well."

*****

"Final order of business," Daven Marley, the Executive Coordinator, announced. "Tom, you have a proposal that your team has been working on?"

"I do," Tom said, setting his cocktail down. "The posture of the United States has taken a serious turn for the worse. President Baines has hit us with sanctions and is threatening to pull funding and starve us out if we don't amend our constitution."

"We all know this," the Minister of Economic Affairs, Darious Marsh, said, "What does your team propose we do about it?"

Tom looked at Marsh in the eye. The man was a part of the Vargas business block. He was also desperate to do anything to win back the favor of the US, including making slavery illegal.

"We have an opportunity to stage a coup in the US that would make them indebted to our little island."

The council fell silent, with men setting their drinks aside to listen intently.

"We have a direct line to Daniel Thorne, and with our help, could make him President once again."

"The man's a clown!" Calloway said. He had no official title, but he managed spy networks that undertook a variety of undocumented projects for the CIA throughout the Caribbean and South America.

"He may be," Tom explained. "But he's a popular clown. And one that could turn for us. If we can make this our clown, the posture of the US will not only change, but it will open business opportunities. Our days of living off the crumbs of wet work and black ops will be a thing of the past. Each one of us could start an offshore bank, not only with sanctions lifted, but the blessing of fucking congress."

"If this is discovered..." Marsh started.

Tom cut him off, "I'll be leading the project. Like many of you, I have dual citizenship and property in the States. I also don't have a title on this Serena council. If I'm discovered, you can all disavow me... just a crazy mercenary fuck that got lucky liberating Isla Serena twenty years ago and thought he could do the same with the US."

"The CIA will know..." the Executive Coordinator said.

"And won't do anything about it." Tom said. "The Baines administration is struggling to keep popularity up; the last thing they want is all the dirty laundry and CIA ops that lead back to Serena. If I get caught, you wash your hands and accept that sanctions will crush you. You can end slavery, give up your cunts, and try to make this island legit. All while basking in the knowledge of your wanning days, that each one of you once had a harem that would suck cock on command."

Silence fell in the living room as each council member considered.

"How do you plan to pull this off?" Vargas asked.

Tom smiled, "How else? With a harem of cunts."

*****

"I want to go down on you," Violet said once Evan parked his car.

"Yeah?" he said, looking around to ensure there were no other people in this part of the park.

She nodded, "Yes. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

"But you do."

"With my hands so far... but, you go down on me... I want to do the same for you."

They'd started several weeks ago. He'd gone down on her and brought her to three orgasms the first time. Oral sex was something none of her previous boyfriends had offered, and orgasms were something they'd never achieved. Since then, Evan had gone down on her almost a dozen times in just two weeks. She'd tried to return the favor, but instead, he would guide her hands to himself.

In a way, she was glad. She'd never blown a guy before and was terrified that she'd do something wrong. The videos she'd seen online were also intense, men just grabbing and shoving women down as they gagged and choked. She'd wanted to practice, but watching those videos made her even more nervous, worried she'd gag uncontrollably or worse, make a mess on him.

"All right," he said, getting out of the car.

Violet took a long breath and got out as well. She took a look at him from over the car before he climbed into the back. She got in on her side and looked at him from across the bench seat of the little SUV. He bent a knee, pulling his leg up onto the seat, and leaned back against the door. This was it.

Violet leaned towards him. She didn't dare look him in the eye. She needed to focus. Shakey fingers reached out to undo his belt, then worked at his pants. When he was unbuckled and open, he lifted himself off the seat so she could pull his slacks away as she had done many times before. She quickly pulled away the trunks as well, revealing his cock which she'd jerked off often the last few weeks. He was semi-rigid, and she knew he'd get harder once she started touching him. Her fingers wrapped around him and stroked slowly.

"Ahh," he cooed. "That feels so good."

She squeezed, knowing he liked it, and wondered how she would do that with her mouth. Her palm was wide, and even though she had full lips, they were nowhere near as broad as her hand. His cock pulsed in her grasp, and she took pride knowing that even with her fingers she could make him happy.

Violet leaned down watching his cock fill her vision. She opened her mouth, and Evan stopped her.

"Lick your lips," he said.

"Oh? I'm sorry," she didn't like him having to stop her, she knew nothing about what she was doing.

"No, it's okay," he murmured. "It feels better if things are wet. Just like your cunt."

He was the only person in the world to ever say that word to her, and it made her tummy flip when he said it. It was so filthy, so degrading.

"Okay," she said, licking her lips. She passed her tongue over them several times, trying to ensure they were grossly wet.

He didn't stop her when she leaned back down to him. She looked at his cock, closer than she'd ever seen one. There was a drop of clear fluid on the tip resting right on the hole. Unsure if she should just plunge it deep into her mouth or something else, she stalled by gliding the tip back and forth on her moist lips.

His groan encouraged her. When she looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his face was frozen in anticipation. She worked her hand on him, lightly as he'd shown her, feeling it twitch in her palm. There was no reason to wait any longer, she'd started, and the only way through was to finish.

Her lips wrapped around his head, and she pushed her body forward, letting him fill her mouth. She moved her hand away and pressed down, taking as much of him as possible. There was something intensely alluring about the velvety feel of his prick gliding over her lips. She had worried it would taste foul, given its primary use for urination. Instead, she was surprised by the taste, sweet and cloying, almost like the way his lips tasted after going down on her, but vastly different.

When he touched the back of her throat, she gagged, embarrassed that she couldn't perform like the videos she'd watched. She tried again and choked. Looking up through teary eyes, she worried that her performance had revolted him. Instead, his eyes were still closed, but his face looked pained.

Unsure if she was doing something wrong or if he was waiting for something, she moved her head back and forth, working to take more of him. She grew frustrated with her gag reflex, disappointed that her own body was preventing his happiness. He hissed and moved away from her. Was she taking him in her mouth too deep? She continued moving her head back and forth, increasing the tempo in hopes of getting him off better.

She felt one of his hands come to the back of her head and panicked for a moment that he would shove her down impaling her on his cock. She'd seen too many videos of precisely that. He didn't, though. Instead, he was stroking her head, letting her know everything was alright.

"Easy," he hissed. "Your teeth..."

She pulled away and asked with concern, "What? Am I doing something..."

"No. It feels good... but your teeth... when they scrape across my skin... it doesn't feel... great."

"Oh no!" she said in deep shame. She'd thought she was doing a fantastic job, only to discover she was hurting him thoughtlessly.

"Just use your lips, like sucking a straw and keep the teeth off my skin."

Wretchedly ashamed, Violet leaned in and sucked him back into her mouth slowly. Placing pressure on her lips, she guarded his smooth skin from her teeth.

"And suck... as hard as you can..." Evan demanded.

The way he instructed her was intoxicating. He wasn't asking like her peers, but telling her what to do, and that made her feel small, right at home between his legs.

"Fuck yes!" he moaned. "Don't stop."

She sucked, and slipped along his wet skin, bobbing her head. As she did so, he rewarded her with a chorus of ecstatic groans. Each one emboldened her, made her want to try new things, like gripping his base with finger and thumb, pressing her tongue against the spongy underside, sucking even harder as she drew back covering only the tip. Each of his groans and cries told her she was doing exactly the right thing. He was no longer jerking away from her but lifting his hips up to sink as deeply inside her as possible.

"Suck harder." He groaned.

She did as instructed and was rewarded with a throaty moan from him. She felt a tickle of pride that she made him do that.

"Put your tongue on the bottom teeth and press the underside when you pull back."

She was rewarded with a, "Fuck!"

"Now, tip your head back a little so you can really press on the underside... Oh fuck, that's it you little whore."

The word whore caught her off-guard. It's what everyone thought of her. It was why guys approached her when she was alone, and why girls would cling to their boyfriends when she walked by. To hear him say it to her, with her mouth full of his cock made her feel dirty, filthy in fact. It made her suck him even harder, wanting to hear him repeat it. She was his whore.

Violet felt powerful. In her mouth and hands, she had him thrashing as she played him like a flute. Aside from the faltering start, she'd never felt so sexy, so in control, and so devoted before in her life. She had loved giving him hand jobs, but they seemed clinical, emotionless, and distant compared to this. She wanted to give him the best oral of his life, and tried doing so right now.

"Oh fuck..." he groaned.

She could feel his cock pulsing in her mouth. She'd felt it before in her palm and knew he was about to climax. His cum had a bitter taste, but it wasn't bad, just different. In just a few weeks, she'd learned to enjoy not only the taste but the creaminess of it. The thought of having all of it in her mouth, not losing any on her hand, made her tingle with excitement. She sucked harder wanting him to climax.

"I'm cumming!" he announced as if delivering terrible news.

Violet wanted it, eagerly wanted it, but she wasn't ready for the explosion in her mouth and throat. Mid stroke, she sputtered around him, then coughed his first blast back onto him. The second flood in her mouth, she desperately tried to swallow, but was still choking on the first. She pulled back, and he shot a stream of it across her face. As she sputtered and tried to take him back in her mouth, another jet splashed off her chin, leaving ropes across her chest. Still coughing, she tried valiantly to contain the last spurts in her mouth.

He moaned through the whole thing, unaware that she'd lost so much. Her hands, face, and hair were a mess with his spunk, but Violet kept pistoning her hand around him, trying to squeeze out every drop. She was deeply embarrassed, and a nasty thought hit her. 'I'll bet his wife doesn't lose any...'

"Fuck..." he groaned around long breaths. "Fucking fuck."

"I'm sorry," she said, the guilt of ruining her first head weighing heavily. "I'll clean it up."

He opened his eyes and saw his jizz dripping off her chin, on her neck, spattered across her cheer uniform. Her small hand wrapped around his cock was a frothy mess, and she'd coughed a spray of it across his groin. When she tried to pull away to grab tissues from the front, he stopped her.

"You should have caught that," he said to her in horror. But then he offered her penance with a demand, "Clean it with your mouth."

There was an intense look in his eyes that froze Violet where she was, still holding his cock and halfway reaching for the front seat. The hand in her hair wasn't letting her move. She wanted to please him, but he was holding her in a way that took away her agency. It felt overpowering. As she tried to lean back into him, she whispered, "Okay."

His hand, the one in her hair, tightened, turning her blonde locks into a leash. "No. it's 'Yes, sir.'"

"What?"

"You will say 'Yes, sir' from now on. Understood?"

She stared at him, still frozen. The demand did something to her. Turned her instantly into one of those girls in his novels of the barbarian world. Her guts melted. With trembling lips, she said, "Yes, Sir."

He then helped guide her back into his crotch. As she lapped at him she wanted nothing more than to touch herself, stroke her sodden cunt, and frig herself to orgasm. She wanted to ask, but was afraid to ruin the moment. She licked him like a cat, collecting every drop. With each lick, his bitter taste was imprinted on her. It was strong, but not terrible. She associated the flavor with his desire for her and wanted more of it.

When she wrapped her lips around his deflating cock he stopped her. "No! It's too much. Too sensitive."

Disappointed, she withdrew, still holding him wetly in her hand. She watched as her hand stroked him slowly. "I want to make you happy, I'll do anything."

"Okay," he said. "Lean back, lift that little cheerleading skirt, and rub yourself."

The words made her breath hitch. He'd gone down on her a bunch of times, but she'd never done this before. He'd never asked to see that before. The thought of stroking her lips while he watched seemed filthy, dirty... whorish... It made her flush, and she lifted her skirt with one hand as she leaned back against the door. His eyes were on her soaking panties.

She ran her fingers along the Spandex, frustrated by its thickness, which muted the feel of her skin. She couldn't stop her hips from rotating, hungry to feel her fingers on her.

"Show me that delicious cunt."

Another demand. She was all too eager to comply. Fingers found the edge and pulled it back, exposing herself to him. She was past the point of deep embarrassment, but still felt a tickle of shame as he gazed at her exposed pussy.

"I want to see it shaved next time." He said.

Her fingers which had just started tracing the slit froze. He didn't like her muff. A new wave of shame flushed deeply through her. She wanted to hide herself from him, but he stopped her.

"Don't stop. Keep touching yourself."

Awkwardly, wishing she'd taken the initiative and shaved already, she let her fingers glide along her moist lips. He licked his lips. He wanted her. Hairy bush or no, he wanted her. She was tempted to offer herself to him as a gesture of reconciliation for disappointing him.

Before she could give herself completely to him, he told her, "Keep working yourself. I want to see you frig that little pussy to climax... But don't you dare cum until I give you permission."

And with that demand, she nearly came right then and there.

*****

Evan felt smug after dropping Violet off at home. The power he felt demanding a young woman through some of her first sexual experiences was intoxicating. He looked forward to months of discovery with her, knowing they would fuck soon. It was a shame he wouldn't be the first, but then again he knew compared to the fumbling of retarded young men her age he'd seem like the god of cock.

As he thought about breaking in her muscled tummy, smooth legs, and tight snatch, a political ad for Thorne played in the background, promising to restore traditional values to a fragmented country. Evan usually turned that crap off but he was lost in thoughts of how hard he'd fuck his little cheerleader soon.

His cell phone rang. He knew it wouldn't be his wife. She had strict instructions not to contact him while driving Violet home unless it was an extreme emergency. The display on the car dash read, 'International Call.' Fuck.

"This is Evan." He announced after accepting the call.

"Tom here. I need a sitrep, any potentials right now?"

"Yeah," Evan reported. "I've just hooked something promising. Literally just hooked."

"Tell me about her."

"Just turned eighteen, traumatic divorce as child, daddy issues... she's a fucking cheerleader."

"How soon can she be ready?"

"That's going to take some time. I just tested her oral skills, she's fucking terrible."

"That's not what I asked."

"A couple of months at least. I just hooked her maybe a month ago."

"Accelerate."

"What?" Evan asked, genuinely confused.

"I need a willing girl now. Accelerate your process."

"If you want to be willing, it's going to take some time..."

"Valentine," Tom said, using Evan's last name. "I don't have time to explain. You owe me. Your job. Your wife. Everything. So when I tell you I need something now, 'Yes, sir,' is all I want to hear. I'll be there in a month." Tom hung up abruptly having delivered all he was willing to share.

"Yes, sir," Evan whispered to the dead line. The bright side was that he'd be fucking Violet sooner than he expected.