Island Royale: The Report (Chapter Seven)

Chapter Seven
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Cynthia had encouraged me to return to the Nursery and assist in the “tutoring” of a particular group of young girls who had only recently serviced male genitalia for the first time. At her suggestion I skipped breakfast the next morning, anxious that I not be too late to sign up for an early morning opportunity to visit this class, and proceeded directly from my suite to the front desk on the main level.

The chance to participate in the training of some of Island Royale’s youngest student sex slaves appeared to have been even more popular among the Guests than had been my previous visit, for although I had arrived quite early a number of men, each clad in their light blue or white robes, had already gathered in the lobby to volunteer their time in the schooling of Cynthia’s young charges. I waited with the others until a young man, armed with a clipboard, confirmed that all of the volunteers had arrived and could be escorted through the hotel and out to the back. We boarded the waiting train of open buggies for the short ride across the playground field and were soon standing before an open door leading into the Nursery.

Not all of our entourage was to visit these very young girls, I discovered, and upon our arrival we were split up into three groups. A male administrative aide led my group past the classroom I had earlier visited and we entered another similarly furnished room. Fourteen giggling little naked Asian girls sat at their desks as we filed in and took our seats, and a stern-looking man stood silently watching them from behind his desk in the front of the room. Once we had settled in, he encouraged his pupils to express their appreciation for our help with their lesson and then instructed the girls to take their required positions before us.

A shy little Japanese girl named Hiroko walked tentatively to me clutching a small white towel to her chest. The child was not particularly attractive, but her soft dark eyes and short black hair, coupled with her pale complexion and timid demeanor, gave her an endearingly fragile appearance as she stood before me, bashfully darting her eyes back and forth between my face and groin.

Upon the instructor’s signal, the little girl knelt down before me, carefully placed the towel to her side, and then began parting my robe. I was charmed by her clumsiness in clearing my penis from the garment and assisted her in exposing myself. My cock had been flaccid but stirred at the touch of her tiny fingers, and as she gingerly caressed the tip of my dick I could feel myself noticeably beginning to swell and harden. Soon her gentle fondling of my shaft had me fully erect and longing for action.

Except for an occasional kiss to the tip of my knob, the little girl made no effort to service me orally but instead used her right hand to methodically stroke my cock. I smiled with pleasure as she massaged my organ, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in focused concentration, seemingly oblivious to everything but the task before her. At one point her pumping became a bit intense and I reached down, took her gently by the wrist, and slowed her action. She looked up at me, her face filled with concern, but I smiled back and, relieved, she returned to her hand job.

I was well on my way toward a climax when the little girl again hastened the pace of her strokes. She released her cradle hold of my testicles and wiped the tip of my cock with her palm, bringing me even closer to orgasm.

Now she was stroking my member with both hands, and when she kissed the underside of my dick I knew I could hold back no longer. I exploded, shooting a thick blast of jism into the air that arced and settled on top of the little girl’s head. Hiroko quickly tilted my cock toward her and my next shots splattered over her chin and bare chest as she stared in fascination at my swollen, erupting manhood.

My last spurt barely escaped my dick and pooled in a lather as the little girl, her tiny hands now slippery with cum, continued to masturbate me. I began to lose my erection but the girl remained massaging my member until I slid my hand down and again took her gently by the wrist, signaling her to release me. She cleaned my groin with her moist towel, now slightly cool to the touch, before using it to wipe the semen from her face, chest and head. She then kissed the tip of my cock again and, crossing her legs, sat down on the floor at my feet. Her little red ornament dragged beneath her as she settled, and she casually played with it while staring at my semi-flaccid penis.

To each side I could see a few of the other little girls still busily masturbating their visitors while the rest of the students, like Hiroko, sat quietly in front of their “teachers,” patiently awaiting further orders. Within a few minutes the remaining Guests had climaxed and the instructor told the children they could take their seats.

“Now, girls,” he intoned as they stood, “let’s not forget to thank our Guests for their help.” In unison, the little ones answered “Thank you, Master!”

* * * * * * * *

It was mid-morning when I returned from the Nursery. Breakfast was still available to me in the dining room, but despite the fact that I had not eaten since the previous evening I still did not feel exceptionally hungry.

Nor did I feel horny. Little Hiroko had seen to that.

So here I found myself, aimlessly wandering through the wide expanse of the Island Royale Compound and feeling … bored! I stood around for awhile as some Guests dressed in jogging shorts played volleyball in the sand with a number of bare-breasted sex slaves, but I soon tired of watching the girls’ tits flop around wildly as they maneuvered themselves beneath the ball. A week earlier I would not have thought it possible for me – for any normal man, for that matter – to be surrounded by beautiful naked women, each dedicated to providing supreme pleasure, and yet still lack interest in having sex.

Amazing.

I reminded myself that, although Island Royale was first and foremost a sex palace, Management also provided other services commonly associated with more “traditional” vacation resorts, and it occurred to me that during my stay I had not availed myself of many of these other amenities. I decided therefore to visit the spa for a drink or two and a massage.

Dressed still in my loose-fitting ankle length white robe, I ventured around the southern edge of the hotel and down the curving concrete path leading to the Clubhouse. Upon entering the building I noticed that most of the scattering of patrons in the lounge were similarly attired, and I casually ordered a Bloody Mary from one of the topless attendants before taking a seat at the bar.

The place was not at all crowded, but as I sat two middle-aged men carrying tennis rackets, each dressed in shorts and short-sleeved shirts, entered from the side and fell into bar stools immediately to my left. Both spoke in French, but in time I joined the conversation and they obligingly shifted into flawless English for my benefit. We exchanged some innocuous pleasantries and a few anecdotes of our recent sexual conquests, and in time we gravitated to a table where, as the alcohol flowed, our discussions became much more open and candid.

The gentlemen, I learned, were both extremely wealthy European industrialists – one French, the other Belgian – and had met one another several years earlier during a previous visit to the resort. Although they maintained minimal contact with each other “back home,” as a result of the friendship they had developed while at the resort they had been mutually scheduling their periodic visits to Island Royale ever since. They asked me what I did for a living; I could not of course tell them I was a reporter researching the white slavery business and merely left them with the indefinite impression that I was somehow associated with “the communications business.”

Both men had arrived on the Wednesday afternoon shuttle, and I jokingly commented that they appeared to have become a bit “jaded” with the resort, as already they had passed on some of the more delightful attractions readily available to them on the island and had opted instead to play tennis. They both laughed heartily at this and Maurice leaned back in his chair. “This is obviously your first visit here,” he replied. “After awhile you will learn you must pace yourself. Otherwise, you will burn yourself out!” I laughed and shook my head, but privately realized that he was probably right.

The Frenchman, Pierre, had been a guest of the resort twice before Maurice had first visited. Following the successful completion of a multi-billion dollar construction project – he remained quite vague regarding both the nature of the project and the specific location of the Middle Eastern construction site – Pierre had been quietly informed by his local host of the existence of Island Royale. He confessed to me that he had initially dismissed the description of the resort as nothing more than a far-fetched tale, but within weeks of his return to his office in Paris he learned Management had been contacted and that the Frenchman had been nominated to join the “special circle” of Island Royale patrons. Still unsure of what to make of this highly unusual offer, he contacted his Middle Eastern business associate and, at his urging, agreed to accompany him to the resort. Since then, Pierre has become a regular visitor.

Maurice had learned of the resort quite differently. He recalled with a smile the day the short stocky stranger with a thick Russian accent had visited his office near Brussels, stubbornly insisting to speak privately with the industrialist despite his adamant refusal to disclose in advance to the female appointments secretary the nature of his business. Maurice said he had initially sought to dismiss the man in the dirty overcoat, but as it was clear the Russian would not be rebuffed, granted him some time late in the afternoon. Once in Maurice’s private office, the unidentified Russian – possibly Alexis, who I had met earlier, I wondered – “spun a most extraordinary yarn,” as the Belgian put it. Amused by, but still rather intrigued with the stranger’s description of the resort, Maurice told me he politely accepted the Russian’s invitation to visit Island Royale, escorted the visitor from his office, and headed home. He had thought little more of the encounter, he said, until a few days later when a private courier delivered to him a sealed envelope which contained a letter providing further instructions and the name of a trusted business associate Maurice was encouraged to call to confirm the legitimacy of the invitation. Maurice said he immediately placed that call and, “Well, the rest is history,” he concluded with a robust smile.

The gentlemen then invited me to relate to them how I had become aware of the existence of the resort. Naturally I could not tell them the truth, so I simply advised that I had received a visit quite similar to the one Maurice had described, although – to make my story sound a bit more plausible – I recalled my recent visitor in Cairo and identified the messenger as British rather than Russian. Both men seemed eager to learn whether I had found Island Royale to be all that I had imagined it to be, and both seemed to take great satisfaction from my assurances that I had indeed been quite pleased with my “discovery” of the resort. In retrospect, I think the two Europeans might have been seeking tactful reassurances that the clandestine nature of the sex resort would remain with me a closely guarded secret, but at the time I attributed our discussions as nothing more than the gentle reminiscences of fellow vacation travelers.

In all the three of us spent a few very pleasant hours over lunch before Pierre announced that he had booked himself into one of the “themed” suites at four o’clock and would be “off to the Old West” after a shower. Maurice arose as well, indicating vaguely that he too would be returning to his quarters for a hot bath and “some young female entertainment,” and we parted company. The Clubhouse was beginning to fill with Guests completing their rounds of golf and I wandered over to the spa to receive some further attention from the topless Argentinean masseuse standing there waiting by the door. I figured I would sit awhile in the steam room, then get a good massage and maybe a hand job before heading back to my room for a nap. I was scheduled, after all, to return to the Graduate School at 10:45 that evening and fuck Alyssa again, so I wanted to be fully rested for her “lesson.”

This time, I thought, I should try to mount her “doggy style,” and I smiled to myself in anticipation.

* * * * * * * *

Saturday morning had arrived way too soon as far as I was concerned.

I awoke to find my comely fifteen-year-old Norwegian bedmate asleep at my side and my little eight-year-old sex toy, nude as well of course, curled up near my feet. I playfully peeled down the sheet, revealing the blonde’s firm young breasts, before rising to use the bathroom. By the time I returned, Nicole had already awakened and was sitting up in bed, her pert pink nipples peeking out from beneath her long flaxen Scandinavian hair. She was smiling, eagerly offering her body to me, while Jennifer remained fast asleep at the foot of the bed and oblivious to the world.

I had acquired the lovely Nicole late the previous evening following my “lesson” with Alyssa and had decided to keep her overnight for my amusement. I had first spotted her as she lie on her side in the grass near the pool, methodically sucking the dick of some massive hairy European, but had lost sight of her beneath his huge robe when he abruptly shoved her to the ground and rolled on top to mount her. I recall wondering briefly whether she might be crushed beneath the weight of this incredibly large man, and my thoughts had turned more to pity for the young female as I imagined how uncomfortable she must have been pinned beneath him while he fucked her.

Mercifully, the Elephant Man did not remain on top of her for very long. With a couple of grunts he climaxed and rolled off, leaving the young girl gasping for breath to his side. She remained very still, with her legs spread wide and her flawlessly smooth wet pussy glistening in the soft poolside light, as her transitory Master stretched out on the grass.

Several more minutes passed before the vulgar Neanderthal stirred again. Sliding his thick paw roughly over her belly, he moved upward and began squeezing the young woman’s small breasts, kneading them like bread dough, twisting and pulling at her nipples as the poor girl winced in silent discomfort. But he soon tired of this activity and, mumbling something to the girl I could not make out, she nodded and stood, rubbed her swollen pussy, and then headed toward the Boudoir cupping her tender breasts in her hands.

I followed and we reached the entrance to the Boudoir simultaneously. “I’m sorry, Master,” she said politely, “but I’m still in session. Please allow me to serve you later.” “I’ll wait,” I replied, and she smiled.

I followed Nicole into the Boudoir and took a seat opposite her shower stall to study her body as she cleaned herself. She was a charmingly attractive girl, with long flowing blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her hips were quite slender and she displayed a marvelously tight little round ass. Standing at only about 5’6’’, her thin legs and thighs presented a most delicious package.

Nicole was aware I was watching her, and she turned to allow me a better view of her face and naked body. We were alone in the room and I wanted to slip out of my toga and step into the shower with her, but I reminded myself that she was technically still “in session” and would not be available for me until she had finished her preparations.

She reached for a length of hose hanging from the wall and, for my benefit, stood facing me so I could watch as she washed her pussy. She spread her legs and squatted a bit as she inserted the nozzle head slightly into her vagina, and the water gushed from her tight little bald twat and flowed down between her legs. Nicole pulled the nozzle out of her cunt, a stream of water still shooting from the tip, and held it as she ran her hands repeatedly over the lips of her vulva. Parting her labia with her fingers, she again squatted slightly and plunged the nozzle head back into her pussy, and again water streamed from her womanhood. She repeated this process several times, obviously enjoying herself as the water shot over her clitoris and deep into her vagina, before finally concluding her shower.

I handed her a towel; she accepted it with a smile, and together we walked silently into the next room. On the far side the redhead with large freckled breasts I had seen scurrying past me in the Compound the previous afternoon sat calmly brushing her hair beneath a huge domed dryer, but the nude woman soon finished and left shortly after Nicole had settled into a chair beneath another hair dryer, and once again the girl and I were alone. The lovely young blonde sat brushing her hair as the machine roared, watching me as I gazed back at her. Nicole had to know I was becoming aroused and opened her thighs to allow me a clear view of her beautiful bald pussy.

Following her stint beneath the hair dryer, Nicole stood and turned to the mirrored wall to apply fresh mascara and lipstick. As she leaned over the counter, I stared at her tight little round ass and the thin lips of her exposed gender, and when we migrated to the dressing room I found myself repeatedly stroking the front of my robe. We were both still alone – not even a “clothing assignment” clerk was on duty at this hour – and it was very quiet. Nicole threw her towel into a hamper, walked over to where I was seated and placed her arm on my shoulder, her smooth bald pussy but inches from my face. I slipped two fingers into the soft, wet recesses of her womanhood and finger-fucked her; she closed her eyes and quietly purred. Nicole was now ready for her next session, and together we headed silently back toward my room for the night. The midnight breeze was cool, and as we walked Nicole crossed her arms to provide her naked body some warmth. I placed my arm around her as well and played with her ripe nipples which had hardened deliciously in the chilly night air.

I was well aware that I would be leaving Island Royale sometime the next morning and had therefore resolved to make my final night at the resort a memorable one indeed. As we passed through the main entrance I noticed an adorable young Caucasian girl with light brown hair, no more than eight years old, in deep slumber as she lie sprawled across one of the many large couches that dot the hotel lobby. The little girl wore a frilly pink sun dress, but as she had slept her garment had hiked up to her waist, exposing her small soft hairless slit and the bright red cherry ornament resting comfortably on her upper thigh. On a whim, I guided the young woman toward this delightful little creature and as Nicole stood to my side I awakened the charming little prepubescent sleeping beauty.

The child awoke with a start and rubbed her eyes. She seemed genuinely grateful to me for the opportunity to abandon her couch in favor of a real bed for the night, and Nicole smiled with approval my decision to include the young female in our impending tryst. Together the three of us strolled through the deserted hall and into an elevator. While the cabin ascended, the little girl silently slipped her tiny hand beneath my robe and began gently caressing my penis, but she abandoned her touch when we reached the fifth floor. Soon I was guiding our ménage á trois into Suite 516.

Nicole, who of course was already naked, moved directly into my bed while I assisted the younger girl in the removal of her modest garment. As she stood before me, her head barely higher than my crotch, I read the name displayed on her amulet.

“Well, Jennifer,” I said softly, “welcome to my room.” The child beamed with delight. “Thank you, Master,” she replied and carefully folded her dress across the back of a chair. From her voice I took her as American – or at least Canadian – as she lacked the distinctive European accent I had grown to expect from the young Caucasian sex slaves of Island Royale. I wondered how she had come to be at the resort. Kidnapped? Sold by a “trusted family friend” perhaps? I didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was here, with Nicole, to provide to me one final night of supreme carnal pleasure.

Little Jennifer crawled onto my bed and sat cross-legged to Nicole’s left, awaiting my instructions. By this time Nicole had slipped under the sheets and lie propped against the headboard, her firm young breasts fully exposed to view. My eyes shot back and forth between Nicole’s glorious twin globes and the sweet innocence of Jennifer’s tiny bald pussy as both females stared intently at me, seeking guidance as to how I wished them to pleasure me.

I casually flung open my robe, revealing to the two naked girls my fully erect penis. Tossing my clothing to the floor I crawled into bed and positioned myself on my back, wedged between my two invited sex partners, curious to find out which of the lovely young ladies would attempt the first assault upon my manhood.

Little Jennifer made the first move, crawling down to take my shaft in her hand as she began carefully licking my testicles. Nicole joined in shortly thereafter, kissing me about the face and shoulders, sliding her breasts across my chest as she inched methodically down my abdomen. She paused to lick my nipples while she kicked her legs out from beneath the soft white sheets, and I lay there, absorbing the pleasure of her caress as Jennifer continued to massage my balls with her lips and tongue.

In time Nicole reached my groin and she and Jennifer engaged in a brief pitched battle for control of my cock. Eventually Jennifer won out, and Nicole withdrew to straddle my chest, leaning forward to allow me to fondle her small smooth breasts and hard pink nipples, while Jennifer remained below to further tease with her tongue my already engorged penis.

The desire to plunge my cock deep into a tight wet pussy had by this time become overwhelming. I moved Nicole off to the right and positioned myself on top of her, leaving poor little Jennifer nothing to stick into her mouth. Nicole spread her thighs in anticipation and Jennifer, not to be excluded, seized my shaft and carefully guided it to Nicole’s sweet moist cunt for my initial penetration. The little girl continued to gently massage my testicles with her fingers even as I began pounding away at the soft flesh of my teenage sex slave.

I could feel myself approaching orgasm, but I wanted to extend my enjoyment even more. Pausing above Nicole, I turned and took Jennifer by her shoulder, guiding her upward to join us. While still impaling the young woman, I had the little girl spread her legs and straddle Nicole’s head and, cupping my hands under Jennifer’s small firm buttocks, I began to intensely lick the silky-smooth contours of her prepubescent pussy lips even as I resumed my thrusts into her sister slave.

Jennifer squealed with delight as I repeatedly dragged my tongue over her vulva, gently tugging at the thin gold chain emerging from her gender, venturing ever so slightly into the soft inner folds of the child’s bald nether lips. My tongue found her tiny clitoris and I tortured it mercilessly, and soon I tasted a sweet-smelling liquid oozing from the child’s twat as she twitched her thighs in rapid orgasmic contractions.

With Jennifer thus satisfied for the moment I turned my attention back to Nicole, who remained still lost in a trance of sexual pleasure beneath me. I pounded her even harder, sending the young woman’s tits dancing across her chest, and after several more minutes exploded in a massive series of ejaculations, flooding the interior of her womanhood with my seed. I was spent and collapsed, gasping for breath to her side while Jennifer, still straddling Nicole’s head, smiled at me from above.

I was exhausted but Jennifer sought to provide me yet further pleasure. She nimbly swung her leg to the side, crawled down on her knees to my groin, and began slowly licking my penis. My cock again hardened and the little girl took my shaft into her mouth as Nicole lay quietly to my side. I soon ejaculated again and, completely spent now, drifted off to sleep even as the little girl skillfully swallowed my cum and resumed her gentle tongue massage of my organ.

* * * * * * * *

The sight of the lovely Nicole in the early morning sunlight, beckoning to me with her firm young tits for yet another round of sexual games, was indeed quite tempting, but just as I reached the bed the telephone rang to remind me in a recorded voice that “check out time” was at 9:00 a.m. and that the short bus ride back to the airstrip was scheduled to leave at ten. Our return flight, the Voice emphasized, would depart promptly an hour thereafter.

I had of course very little to pack since most of my luggage remained securely stored back at the small airport in Costa Rica. I glanced at the clock and figured I had time for one more blow job before I would need to gather my notes and audio cassettes for the long journey home. My little eight-year-old bedmate, Jennifer, had begun to stir with the sound of the telephone and, although the beautiful blonde nubile was quite enticing, I chose instead to have the child suck me off for the very last time at Island Royale. With a kiss I discharged Nicole, sending her back to the Compound where I knew she would emerge from the Boudoir to undoubtedly be claimed by another Guest within minutes, and fully awakened Jennifer from her slumber.

The little girl sat up in bed, still half-asleep, but seeing me stroking my flaccid penis just inches from her face instinctively leaned forward and began performing fellatio. I looked down to her, watching her head move back and forth over my hardening shaft, and amid the splendid feelings of sexual arousal I reflected upon how easily I had demanded from this child that she awaken to give me a blow job – and just how well trained as a sex slave the prepubescent female had been to provide to me this service without even the slightest hint of reservation or protest. And yet here I stood, hands on hips, gazing out over the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean on a glorious early Saturday morning, while this naked little girl squatted before me, hungrily sucking my dick.

Waves of pleasure were emanating from my groin. I longed to plunge my cock into some tight little pussy again and regretted having earlier dismissed Nicole. I again checked the clock but concluded I lacked the time to summon another female to my quarters before I would be required to report to the front desk, and so I returned to look down upon the young girl as she expertly worked her tongue over the tip of my penis.

Little Jennifer had grown uncomfortable sucking my dick in her awkward initial stance and withdrew to adjust herself to a kneeling position before me. She soon resumed fucking me with her mouth, rhythmically moving her head while simultaneously working her tongue all over my shaft. Her mouth seemed far too small to accommodate the full length of my member, yet somehow the young female managed to accept the entirety of my engorged cock without gagging, repeatedly burying her nose in the thick curly forest of my pubic hair with each impressive thrust of her head.

The little girl intensified her efforts as she detected the salty taste of my pre-cum. I glanced down to see her masturbating, rubbing her tiny hand over the smooth curves of her vagina, parting her nether lips and sliding her slender fingers into the soft wet interior of her sex. She playfully teased her clitoris using the thin golden chain in her slit, and her red cherry ornament bobbed feverishly between her legs as she repeatedly worked her fingers in and out of her tight little bald pussy.

The sight of the young child servicing herself propelled me even closer to my own climax, but I was determined to hold back as long as possible against Jennifer’s relentless oral assault upon my manhood. I felt her tongue drag once again over the tip of my penis, though, and could control myself no longer. Jennifer moved her hand to grip my throbbing shaft and with a thrust of my pelvis I erupted, filling the young girl’s mouth with semen. Jennifer was well prepared for this and had steadied her head to receive my ejaculate even as she continued to stroke my shaft. She made no effort to swallow and eagerly accepted my jism as I unloaded in a series of orgasmic spasms.

I was spent but still retained a full erection, and the little girl knelt calmly before me, the knob of my dick still lodged in her mouth as she gently caressed my shaft. When she was sure I had fully ejaculated she withdrew and, while still cradling my penis in her hand, tilted her head back, her open mouth filled with frothy milky-white liquid, to proudly show me the volume of my orgasm. I reached down and tenderly brushed her cheek; Jennifer accepted my gentle touch as she swallowed.

The little girl remained kneeling before me, caressing my now semi-erect penis while I ran my fingers through her soft light brown hair. I sighed, knowing that soon I would be leaving Island Royale to return to a world in which having sex with a young female child would be strictly forbidden. But yet, standing before this naked little eight-year-old girl crouched on the edge of the bed as she patiently massaged my cock, it all seemed so right – so natural – that females of all ages willingly perform sexual services upon demand.

I looked back down to my little toy. Jennifer certainly seemed quite happy with her existence as a sex slave. Undoubtedly within minutes of my departure she would be back in the Compound, ardently awaiting her next chance to give head to yet another of the endless stream of male Masters who would visit the resort in the months and years to come. And undoubtedly also the child yearned for the day when she, too, would be old enough to finally spread her legs and fully use her cunt to pleasure men.

She would spend the better part of her life in this beautiful South Pacific setting, I thought, cheerfully offering her body for the use and enjoyment of thousands upon thousands of resort patrons, blissfully unaware of a world beyond Island Royale. Greg had indeed been right after all: Little Jennifer did not perceive herself as a “sexually abused” child; rather, she fully embraced her existence as but a plaything devoted exclusively to providing to men the unique pleasures of her gender.

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