Labor of  Love

Day 1

Location: Master Kinney's Quarters 

I shivered as I felt the cold draft dancing upon my skin, eliciting goosebumps.  At the moment though, I was thankful to just feel something, anything.  It helped to distract my mind from the nervousness, the anticipation... the fear.

I remember being told once that if one of your five senses was gone the other four would become stronger to compensate for the lost one.  That night I found out first hand that it's true.  My four remaining senses were hypersensitive, and things that I never paid much attention to were now calling out to me, magnified. I heard the soft roar of the waves of the ocean, and the whisper of the wind blowing outside and sending a soothing ocean breeze against my back. I tasted the salty droplets of sweat above my upper lip.  I smelled a strong combination of salty air and what I guessed was a bonfire burning just outside. 

As I listened to the wind blowing through the trees outside, I shivered once again as the cool, night air surrounded my naked body. Other than the wind, the only sound in the room was my slightly shallow breathing. I felt beads of sweat rolling down the sides of my face and from other various parts of my body. 

I couldn't move.  I couldn't see. It was humiliating and I was terrified, and was sure that He could smell my fear.  I was doing my best to put up a brave front, but of course I knew He was no idiot.  He was very much aware how fucking terrified I was.  I could almost see Him smirking at me in my mind.  “Fucker.  He's probably giving me that look right now,” I thought.  Of course there was no way to tell since I couldn't see shit.

In a million years, I would have never thought it possible to end up where I was.  I mean, someone like me?  I wasn't into that shit.  BDSM was for kinky freaks.  Kinky or freaky were definitely not traits of mine in the bedroom.  Sure, I'd had boyfriends who'd wanted to try some things, but I'd always shied away from it.  It made me uncomfortable to put that kind of trust into someone and give up control. 

That was why as I stood there, my arms and feet spread and restrained, I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out why the hell I had ever agreed to go to the fucking island.  What had I been thinking?  Better yet, when I had the chance to leave, why did I let myself get talked into staying and giving this place a chance?

I was working hard to suppress a groan.  My arms which were each hanging on either side of me by chains from the ceiling, were aching from being in the same position for so long. It had been okay for the first 20 minutes, but after staying in that same position for what had to have been at least an hour, I could feel the burn and strain in the muscles of my arms and shoulders.

 Where is he? I wondered. 

 My mind began to wander and I thought back to when this whole thing began.  It seemed so long ago, when in fact it was only about 3 months earlier.....

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

3 MONTHS EARLIER....

I sat and stared blankly ahead on my bed, surrounded by a cloud of smoke, with my back against the headboard and my knees up with my arms resting on them. Cigarette in one hand, a glass of Jack Daniels in the other, I was a fucking fall down mess. I sat there and thought about how fucked up my life was as I sucked on the filter of my cigarette.  I'd been chain smoking for the last 3 hours.  

I'd come home exhausted from a long day at the studio.  The shoot had gone well but had taken a lot longer than I'd anticipated.  It was just after 9:00pm and I was tired and hungry.  I'd skipped both lunch and dinner.  It was quiet when I'd entered my apartment, but I wasn't surprised. It was Friday night, and I knew Dylan was probably out at Woody's with some friends. 

I walked into the kitchen to see what I could scrounge up for dinner, and that's when I saw the note on the refrigerator.  It was nothing out of the ordinary, since that was the place we'd frequently left notes for each other.  Usually though, they were just short notes, and I got a nervous feeling in my stomach as my eyes scanned the length of his note.  When I saw that the first words were “I'm sorry”, my heart  jumped into my throat and I knew it was over.  I held back tears as I read the letter. 

Justin -               

I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore.  I know we said we'd try, but I'm tired of doing all the compromising while you're still unwilling to change.  In order for it to work, both people have to make the effort.  I'd hoped things     would work out for us, but I know now that it's not going to happen. 

I've met someone who makes me happy and I feel I owe it to myself to give a relationship with him a chance.  I can only hope that one day you'll find the right person and that you'll be happy.  I'm sorry that I couldn't  be that person for you.

I've left a check for half the rent and the utilities inside the mailbox.  I still have a few things I need to pick up, but I'll come by to get them while you're at the studio on Monday.

Take care of yourself, Justin.  

Dylan

It felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach.  My relationship with Dylan had been the longest one I'd ever had.  I have to admit though, all the time I was with him, I knew Dylan wasn't the love of my life.

It was hard to really say what my feelings for Dylan were.  I cared about him a lot, and probably loved him, but I knew that it wasn't the kind of love that I'd witnessed in observing my friends' or family's relationships; the kind of love that I'd envied and hoped to have one day.  Dylan wasn't the love of my life, but he was a good guy, and things with him were comfortable.  

I knew that Dylan was right to leave.  He had put up with a lot.  He'd been so patient and willing to try with me.  I supposed though, that there is only so much a person can take before it gets to be too much.

I had known he was unhappy those last few months.  We'd fought a lot during that time, and because of my fear of losing him and ending up alone, I'd told him that I would try to change, and even agreed to see a therapist as he'd suggested, but on account of my business suddenly boosting up, that promise had kind of been set on the back burner.  I'd been spending a lot of hours at the studio, which didn't leave much time to work on my relationship with Dylan or my issues, and I ended up never getting around to seeing that therapist.

I won't lie -- I wasn't thrilled about going to see a shrink, and at first, had purposely put it off.  The last thing I'd wanted was some stranger analyzing me and telling me how I should live my life.  But being in that frame of mind only screwed me – and not in a positive life-affirming way. 

After reading the “Dear John” letter from Dylan, I stood there in the kitchen for a while, just staring at the it, and let my emotions run through me.  Feeling hurt and angry, I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the trash bin.  My appetite now dissipated, I went to the liquor cabinet in hopes that a few drinks would help to numb the pain enough for me to get some sleep.  I was grateful that I didn't have anything scheduled at the studio the next day.  I grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and my smokes, and carried them to the bedroom, the empty bedroom.   That's where I remained for the next three hours.  

I continued drinking and smoking and thinking until the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sun shining through my eyelids, with the world's worst hangover, and a horrible taste in my mouth.  When I opened my eyes I could barely lift my head.  Feeling disoriented, I turned expecting to see Dylan, but instead only found an overflowing ashtray of cigarette butts and and a bottle of Jack Daniels that was almost empty, laying in his place.

“Dylan?” I called out, causing a shooting pain throughout my head from the vibrations of my vocal chords. I winced and held my head as I sat up in bed.

The apartment was deathly quiet.  My eyes were dry and itchy, and I rubbed them before looking around the room.  Something seemed really off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  As I sat there a moment trying to gather my head together, I looked around the bedroom once more, and immediately noticed that the acoustic guitar that always rested on its stand near the dresser was missing.  I blinked and frowned, and then swung my feet over the side of the bed.  I looked down, and saw that the stupid free weights – the ones that I'd always yelled at Dylan at for leaving in a place where I could step on them, were missing as well.  A thorough scan around the room and seeing none of Dylan's things, caused the events of the night before to come rushing back, and then I remembered the cold, true, reality; I'd fucked up, Dylan had left me, and once again I was alone. 

I sighed and laid back down in bed and closed my eyes, just wanting to sink into my dreams and sleep my sorrow away.  I was just about crawl under the covers and do exactly that, when I heard someone knocking on my door.  I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand in aggravation. The last thing I wanted was to have company, so I tried my best to ignore it. 

“Justin, are you there?” Ben's voice called through the door.  Being the persistent shit he is, I knew that Ben would keep knocking until I answered, and I sighed in defeat as I dragged myself out of bed to open the door. 

More knocking.  “Justin!” he called out again, and as soon as I got to the door I flung it open, giving my best friend an irritated look

“Shit, you know, I bet you could wake the dead if you wanted,” I glared at him.  He immediately gave me a concerned look.

“You look like shit,” he said, taking in my appearance. 

“Thanks.” I stepped aside to let him in.  “What are you doing here?” I asked, walking into the kitchen to start the coffee machine

“We had plans for lunch, remember?”

 A sudden dawn of recognition hit me, and I ran my fingers through my tussled hair.  “Shit.  I'm sorry, I forgot.”   

Ben shrugged.  “Don't worry about it.  What's going on?” he asked, his face still having that concerned look.  He sat in one of the barstool chairs and briefly looked around. “Where's Dylan?  At the gym or something?”

I plopped myself down on the barstool next to Ben and leaned forward with my elbows on the counter.  “Dylan... left me.”  

Ben gave me a shocked look.  “What?”  

I nodded.  “I came home late from the studio last night and found a note from him on the fridge saying that he was tired of making all the effort in our relationship and he's met someone else. The note's in the trash if you want to read it.”

Ben wrapped his arms around me.  “Justin, I'm so sorry.”  

Regrettably, I felt tears spring to my eyes; which was something that only Ben was privy to on occasions such as this.  I didn't allow my emotions to be seen by anyone else if I could help it.  My father had always said that tears were a sign of weakness, so from a young age, I had been used to holding them back. 

“Ben... God, I really fucked this one up good,” I told him, feeling a few tears gently fall.     

“Shhh, stop.  You can't take all the blame for this.  No one is perfect.  I'm sure Dylan didn't always do the right thing in this relationship.”

“He sure seemed to think so.”

“He was wrong.”

I shook my head at my friend.  “No, he was right.  I knew what I needed to do to try to make things better between us and I didn't do them, and now he's gone.”

Ben nodded and sighed.  “You know, I believe everything happens for a reason.  Maybe it just wasn't meant to be for the two of you.  I'm sure you'll find someone else, someone who's right for you.  You'll see,” Ben said encouragingly. 

I gave him a doubtful look.  “Maybe my father was right. As a gay man, maybe it's unrealistic to believe that I could ever be in a real, solid relationship.”  

Ben huffed at that statement.  “That's bullshit.  We know plenty of gay men and women who are in steady relationships.

“Yeah, but most of them don't last,” I reminded him. 

“Your father only said that because he wishes you weren't gay, Justin.  He wants you to be straight and settle down and marry some beautiful young woman so he can consider you 'normal'.”

“Yeah, well, he also wanted me to go to Dartmouth and study business, but I didn't do that.” 

“Exactly.  You know better than to listen to the bullshit your father spews.” 

I gave him a small smile.  “All right, I get your point.” 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

All the events leading up to how I got to the island, continued to run through my mind as I shivered in the darkness.

Ben, and his damn logic.  Sure, he was my best friend, but now I was really starting to ask myself why I had ever listened to him in the first place. 

Why was I here?  Could I handle what was about to come my way?  Would I break?  Would I cry?  Beg?  Worst of all... would I LIKE it?

Fuck, Ben.  Why did I let you talk me into this? I cursed to myself, and thought about how I came to know about this place... 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Justin, you need to get yourself out of this slump; it's not healthy,” Ben pleaded for the millionth time in the last two weeks.

 I looked at my friend and put my hand on his shoulder.  “Ben, you know I love you, so don't take this the wrong way... Fuck off.”  

He sighed and gave me that look that said he was feeling sorry for me. God, I hated that look.  “I understand you're hurting, Justin, I really do.  But you need to move on.  He's not worth wasting your life away.”

I took a drag from my cigarette and kept my eyes down at my fidgeting hands, sitting in front of me.  “I know.  I'm sorry for being such a drag.  It's just that on top of all this shit with Dylan, work has really been stressing me out too,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. 

“Maybe what you need is some time off.”  

“No.  Time off would just make me think about everything more.  This way, at least work keeps me busy.”

“Look, there is one suggestion I wanted to run by you...” he paused and gave a hesitant look.  “But, I want you to promise to listen to me and keep an open mind about it before you say anything, okay?”

“Okay, I'm listening.”  

“There's this island that my cousin Jeff goes to every year that he says helps him to wind down.  It's something that he swears by.  He says it takes him away from all the stresses at home and just allows him to relax and be himself.  He stays for two months, and when he leaves he feels happy, rejuvenated, more self assuring and even peaceful.”

“Are you saying that I should take a vacation to this island?” I admit I was intrigued by the idea.  It kind of sounded nice to be on some tropical island right about then, soaking up the rays; maybe getting a daily massage by some hot, muscular guy...

“Well, it's not exactly a vacation,” Ben said, his face showing hesitancy again. 

I gave him a confused look.  “Okay, so if it's not a vacation, what the hell does he do there?” I asked and took a drink of my iced tea.

“It's an island off of Costa Rica called La Isla Erotica.  It's an S&M gay resort,” Ben explained. 

The iced tea I was drinking suddenly went down the wrong pipe and I immediately started coughing.

“Shit, are you okay?” Ben asked, slapping my back.

Once I got my breath back I looked at him incredulously.  “You want me to go to an S&M resort?! Are you fucking insane?”

Ben frowned.  “You agreed to listen with an open mind, Justin.”

I laughed at him.  “This is a bit extreme, don't you think?  You know that sort of thing is way out of my boundaries.  It's creepy... I'm just not into that,” I told him. 

“Neither was Jeff, but he was going through a difficult time and at a suggestion of a friend of his, he finally decided to go to the island.  That was 5 years ago, and he's gone back every year since then.”

I shook my head at him.  “I can't believe you'd even think I'd consider it.” 

“Okay, how about this.” Ben started jotting something down on a nearby notepad.  “Give it some thought, and I'll leave Jeff's number for you in case you have some questions about it.”

I supposed there was no harm in Ben leaving his cousin's number, and if that's what it took to have him drop this ridiculous idea of his, then so be it, I thought.  “Fine,” I agreed, thinking the number would end up in the trash by the end of the day. 

Ben smiled at me and then left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and with that phone number just sitting there, waiting for me satisfy my curiosity and dial it.  After two days of eying it, and passing it every time I walked to the kitchen, I finally gave in. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I called Jeff, he didn't seem at all surprised to hear from me, and was enthusiastic about talking to me about the resort, but insisted that we meet in person to discuss it.  We agreed to meet at the Liberty Diner.

I remember being a little taken back by Jeff's strong resemblance to Ben as I saw him waiting for me in a booth at the diner.  He smiled as he stood up and reached out to shake my hand. 

“You must be Justin.”  

I nodded and shook his hand.  “Yeah.  Wow, you and Ben could be brothers,” I smiled back, looking him over.  Jeff was very attractive.  Like Ben, he was tall, with sandy blond hair, and had a muscular build.  His eyes were a beautiful emerald green.

“That's what they tell us,” Jeff laughed.  “Apparently we both inherited our grandfather's genes. Don't be fooled though.  We may look alike, but we are very different.  Ben was always the 'good twin,' or so everyone used to say,” he grinned.

I laughed, liking Jeff right away.  While observing him, I noticed that also like Ben, he was butch looking; one of those guys that you wouldn't guess was gay unless they told you or you were around them long enough to pick up on it. 

As I looked at him, it was hard for me to picture this guy on his knees as an obedient slave.  He seemed like a total “top”, like he would have been the one calling all the shots.  I knew I wouldn't have minded to be beneath him, that was for sure!

“I know what you're wondering,” he said, interrupting my thoughts and giving me a small smile.  “Whether I'm the Dom or sub, right?

I gave him a sheepish smile.  “The thought crossed my mind.”

“Well, what most people would probably be surprised to know, is that I'm versatile.  It's true that in my every day life here in Pittsburgh, I'm mostly a top; that's the role I feel most comfortable in when I'm home, save for once in a while when I feel the urge to satisfy that itch needing to be scratched,” he gave me a mischievous smile that made my dick twitch in my pants, then continued his explanation.

“But when I go to the Island, the whole purpose of being there is to let go and be free to express this whole other part of myself that just 5 years ago, I had no idea existed.  Even after all this time, there's still a lot to discover – and every year I come home knowing more about myself.  Being at the island is really the only time I can fully let go and allow someone else to take care of me and give me what I need.”  

“Are you always in the role as a slave when you go to this resort?”

“Yes, but that has always been my choice.  I have been trained in the roles of both the Master and the slave.  That is something that is recommended, because really, the truth remains that people often find that things they never thought they would be into turn out to be deep desires within themselves that they never knew existed.  The Island gives you a chance to explore that in yourself and decide which is better for you. In my case, I found out early on that being the slave felt more like a safe haven to me than being a master, and since coming to that realization, I've chosen to maintain that role when I go to the island.”      

My mind was buzzing with questions, but just as I was about to say something, Debbie came over to take our order.

“You boys ready to order?” she asked with a bright smile and a smack of her gum. 

As Jeff ordered his food, Debbie frowned at him.  “Christ, a small animal couldn't live off what you eat!  You're as bad as Brian!” she accused. 

“And that's why we both happen to be very healthy men with hot bods,” he smiled.  Debbie rolled her eyes. 

“Now you're starting to sound like him,” she muttered, shaking her head before turning her attention toward me.  “And how about you, Sunshine?  What'll it be?” she asked.

Jeff gave a small laugh and shook his head after Debbie had left to put in our orders.  “Gotta love her.”  

“Who's Brian?” 

“Oh, he's sort of like Debbie's surrogate son.  He and her son Michael were best friends growing up.  He doesn't really spend much time in the Pitts though, anymore.  He's too busy with his businesses.”

“Businesses?” I asked. 

Jeff nodded and took a sip of his water.  “He's the owner of a very popular advertising firm, and has expanded to two other locations; and he also has another business on the side.  So he's a pretty busy man.”  

“Oh,” I nodded, and my mind wandered back to the questions I had for Jeff.  He looked at me and seemed to be studying my expression. 

“Is there something on your mind, Justin?”

I chuckled.  “Perceptive, too.  Are you sure you and Ben aren't the same person?” I teased. 

He laughed.  “Not the last time I checked.”  

“Did he tell you about what happened with my ex, Dylan?”

“He told me that your boyfriend left you.”  

“What else did he tell you about me?” I wondered out loud.

“He said that you're his best friend, and that he cares about you a lot, but that you have a lot of issues that keep you from being happy with yourself and in your relationships, which is why he thinks you might be interested in going to the island.”

“Great,” I mumbled.  

“Is he wrong?”

I thought about that, and heard the conflicting voices in my head. 

Wrong?  Wrong about what?  That I'm some weak little twink that couldn't keep a relationship together if my life depended on it? That there's always seemed to be a big part of myself that was missing, no matter how happy I'd convinced myself I was for what little period of time it occurred?

“Not exactly, but... I mean, I just don't know what that has to do with going to this island – 'La Isla whatever-the-fuck' he told me about.  I don't really understand why he seems to think that getting into the BDSM scene might help me.”  

Jeff nodded. “It is perfectly understandable why you would wonder about that, and of course it's not 100% guaranteed that it will help, but most people find that it does make them feel more grounded; more in control.”

Debbie returned to our table and set our food down in front of us.  “Enjoy, boys!” she smiled, and winked at us before heading off to her other customers.  

Conversation was light as we ate, which I was grateful for, because it gave me time to think over everything Jeff had told me.  He seemed to know that I was absorbing things, and remained quiet. Frankly, I was a little surprised that he wasn't trying to convince me to go to the island.  He answered questions when I asked. He didn't try to push anything, and he hadn't judged me either.

I had just finished my pie when Jeff looked at his watch. “Well, Justin, I'm sorry, but I've got to run.  I have an appointment.”

“Oh, right.  Um, thanks for... well, everything I guess,” I smiled shyly.

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled back. 

I reached for my wallet in my back pocket to pay the bill, and he put his hand out.

“No, don't even think about it.  I asked you to meet me here.  Lunch is on me,” he insisted, grabbing the bill on the table before I could.  I smiled and nodded at him, knowing it was useless arguing with him.  

We both stood up then.  “If you have more questions, you can call me anytime.”

I nodded. “Thanks, I might take you up on that.”  

“All right.  Later,” he smiled again, and then walked to the counter and caught Debbie's attention.  I watched as he handed her some money and then kissed her cheek, causing Debbie to beam at him and blush a little.  

As I watched him walk out of the diner, I grinned to myself.  Jeff was definitely hot.  He seemed like a really great person, too.  I knew though that he wasn't really my type – or rather I wasn't his.  I definitely didn't see myself as someone who could dominate him or take care of him like he needed.  Too bad, I thought, as I shook my head. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I felt my palms sweating as I sat nervously in my chair and waited. 

“Nice camera,” I commented, noticing the top of the line equipment being set up by a tall man with tattoos all over his arms. 

He looked at me briefly and nodded. “Mm hmm,” the man grumbled, and went about what he was doing.  I wanted to tell him that he would get a much better shot if he moved the angle of the camera a bit differently, but something told me that I should keep my opinions to myself this time. 

Not able to keep myself from sitting still, I stood up to walk around the room.  I took a sip of the bottled water that had been provided to me when I'd first arrived at the office, and observed the room, noting the nice furniture and artwork on the wall. 

I was a bit startled when I heard my name being called. 

“Justin Taylor?” a man with dark hair asked, coming into the room. He appeared to be in his 30s. 

“Uh, yeah.  Hi,” I said with an awkward smile, and shook the offered hand. 

“I'm Ted, Ted Schmidt. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair I'd been sitting in before. 

“Are we ready to go?” Ted asked the cameraman. 

“Yep.  Just say when,” the man replied.   

“When,” Ted said, and gave a small chuckle before he sat down in a chair behind a desk and pulled out a file and laid it in front of him.  He opened it, and started shuffling through some papers in the file.  After a few moments he spoke but kept his eyes focused on the papers in front of him. 

“So, Justin Taylor, age 25...” he paused and then looked up at me. 

“That's right.” 

Ted nodded.  “It says here that you're a photographer and an artist.  You graduated from PIFA? I'm impressed.  Here at Kinnetic, we have students from PIFA whom intern for us.  It's a very difficult school to get into.  You must be very talented.”

I felt my face start to blush.  “I've been told,” I smiled. 

“Okay, Mr. Taylor, I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and even though some of them may be difficult or seem embarrassing, I just want you to answer me as honestly as you can.  All right?”

I felt the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter.  This whole scene sort of reminded me of the first time I went to the clinic to get tested for HIV.  The smiley man who had taken my blood had warned me he would be asking some questions that might make me feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but insisted that I answer honestly. 

I shook my head yes.  “Okay. But please call me Justin.”

Ted smiled.  “Of course. So Justin, how did you hear about our resort?”

“A friend of a friend has been going to your resort for the last five years.”

I watched as Ted was jotting down some notes on a legal pad. 

“On your application you marked that you have no previous experience with BD/SM.  Why do you think that La Isla Erotica is a place you'd be interested in going to?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head.  “I'm not sure, exactly.  It was recommended to me, and when I spoke to my friend about it, there were some things he said to me, that made me believe that maybe this could be something that would help me to get over some issues I've had,” I said softly and kept my eyes trained on my hands.

Ted seemed to be looking over my application again.

“You mention in here that your last boyfriend left you and that was part of the reason for your decision to submit an application to our resort. Could you tell me a little about that?”

I suddenly felt really uncomfortable.  “Um...” I nervously ran my fingers through my hair and looked down. “I knew it was my fault.”

Ted gave me a confused look.  “You think you could you elaborate?”

“My relationship with Dylan had been going downhill for a while before he left.  We often fought over the fact that he thinks that I am too uptight.  He always said that I wasn't willing to be spontaneous or take chances.”  Ted went back to scribbling some notes as I spoke.  

“When it came to our sex life he said that I was a good lover but that he wished that I would be more open.  I guess I'm not very adventurous,” I admitted, feeling myself blush.   

Ted gave me a small smile and somehow it felt comforting.  “And in your sexual relationships, would you say that you're mostly dominant, subservient, or both?”

“Um...” I paused, feeling my face turn red.  “I mean, I'm versatile, but I guess I feel more comfortable being a 'top'.  I don't know if that's what you mean...”

“Would you say that your personality is more dominant or subservient?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing how to answer the question.  “I've never really thought about it.  I guess I'm not that great at making decisions, so maybe that would mean that I'm more subservient in that aspect.”

“Hmm, okay,” Ted said, and scribbled some more notes.  He looked up at me after a moment and smiled again.  “All right, now for the big questions...”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two months later I was on a ship with the other applicants on my way to La Isla Erotica, just off the coast of Costa Rica.  I was nervous as Hell and had no idea what to expect.  When I saw Jeff there, it made me feel a little better.  He was laughing and talking with another man, obviously someone he'd met one of his other times he'd been to the Island.   When Jeff saw me he gave me a reassuring smile, and amazingly, I felt less nervous.  I knew from the look he was giving me that he was inviting me to go over there and join them, but I wasn't really feeling like I wanted to be around anyone, so I just nodded in acknowledgment, and walked around the ship for a while.

I saw a lot of handsome men, most of whom I could tell worked out daily.  Some of the men were dressed casually, others more conservatively, and we definitely had some label queens among us. Some of these men didn't look like they would be into the scene – but then again I'm sure I looked out of place to them.  I wondered what they thought when they looked at me. 

Some of the men looked very confident, and I assumed those were the men that had been to the Island before and knew what to expect.  A couple of guys came over to me and tried to strike up a conversation – or hit on me, whichever it was – and I politely shunned them away.  I've kind of always been uncomfortable around people -- especially strangers, which was why the very idea of coming to this place was insane for me.  It was hard for me to believe I was actually going through with it.

There was a small orientation just explaining some rules and what was to go on for the next few days until we got to the island, and were also told we'd be given more detailed information privately when we were given our lab results

In the meantime, I kind of kept to myself, mostly staying in my little cabin, sketching or reading. I had been in my quarters sitting on my bunk, thinking and anticipating the weeks ahead, when I heard a knock on the door.  Before I could answer, a man entered the room. Startled by a stranger barging into my room, I jumped a little and wondered what was going on. 

“Mr. Taylor?” the man asked.  He was handsome, tall, muscular, and had a buzzed cut.

“Do you guys always just barge in like that, whenever you want?” I asked. 

He only smiled at me.  “My name is Kevin.  I'm here to give you your lab results and to go over some guidelines and rules.  I'll also tell you a little bit about what to expect when we arrive at the Island,” he explained, and got out his clip board and looked down at the information in front of him. 

“Well, Mr. Taylor, you're HIV negative, and your blood shows no traces of any other STDs,” he told me.

“Good to know.”

“Yes, it is,” he smiled.  “All right.  Now, we have a few other things to go over.  The first thing you need to know is that we have a full staff who have all been professionally trained in the art of BDSM.  They will be referred to as your 'Superiors'.  They are in charge of your every move until it's decided otherwise. Do you understand that, Mr. Taylor?” asked Kevin, sternly.

I nodded.

“Good. As long as you understand your place, we won't have any problems.” 

“Okay, we're going to go over some rules.  The first one being very important,” he said, and paused as he looked at me.

I looked at him curiously and waited.

“From this point on, you are to refrain from masturbating.”

I raised a brow at him.  “Excuse, me?”

“Master Kinney's rules. You're not to touch yourself in any sexual way unless instructed by a Superior or your Master.  Are we clear on that?”

I nodded.  “Yeah.”

“The second rule is, you're to be in uniform at all times, unless instructed otherwise by a Superior or your Master,” Kevin told me, and pulled out a thin little black leather thong from his bag he had brought with him.

“THAT thing is the uniform?” I laughed.  “You've got to be joking,” I said incredulously.  I'd never in my life owned or wore a thong, let alone a leather thong. 

“Afraid not.  You're to wear this at all times.  Your regular clothes and possessions will be collected from me now and will be stored in a safe place until you leave the Island.” By Kevin's expression, I could see that he was dead serious.

“That's just great,” I said, dully.

“Next, just so you're somewhat aware of what's going on, let me explain a few things to you.  When we arrive there will be some guests awaiting us.  Master Kinney will come out, and then everyone except for the Superiors will line up on stage to be introduced to our guests so that they can get an idea about whom they might like to pair up with on their stay here, once the training period is finished.”

I gave him a confused look.  Training?  What sort of training? I wondered. 

“Of course the more experienced members won't go through extensive training – just what we call 'back track' training, which is basically a refresher's course to just get the juices running again so to speak, and bring back the familiarity of it all. A lot of our members don't practice BDSM the rest of the year, so it's a way of getting them back into the mindset of it.  That usually only lasts anywhere from one to three days, depending on how many times you've been to the Island or how experienced in the BDSM scene you are,” Kevin explained. 

I nodded.  “And what about those of us who have never done this sort of thing?  How long is our training?”

“The new members will all be in extensive training until whomever you're assigned to decides if and when you're ready to be a sub or Master to one of our guests.  Usually the extensive training lasts about 3 weeks, or depending on how fast you learn.  The final decision though, is always Master Kinney's.”

A panic started to raise in me.  “So what you're is saying is, eventually I'm going to be handed off to some stranger for his pleasure?”

The man laughed.  “Well, yeah, that's pretty much the point... but also know that all pairings are by mutual consent.  We want everyone to be happy with whom they're playing with.”

“So you're saying that if someone wants me and I don't want them, I don't have to go with them?”

“That's correct.  Always by mutual consent,” he smiled.  “We want everyone to enjoy their experience and come back.  Keep in mind also, that you probably won't only be with the same person the whole time you're here.  Sometimes there are couples who come here to relax and play and just want a boy for the night or a couple of days.  Other guests might want you for the majority of their stay or possibly their whole stay.  It's also possible that you won't be assigned to a guest at all.  In that case, you'll still be serving the Superiors for their pleasure.”

“Um... what about boundaries?” I asked nervously.    

“We have strict rules on this island.  Of course there are limits.  It's our policy to make sure that everyone is safe and protected.  You'll be getting a print-out of all the restrictions, and if or when you meet your sub or Master partner you will both sign contracts before you proceed with anything.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a little better.     

“So... what exactly is it that you do here?”

He smiled at me before answering.  “Although I'm very familiar with the scene, I'm not a trainer.  I'm more of a supervisor.  My role is to keep things in order and make sure things are running smoothly, and to address any problems or concerns that may come up,” he answered. 

Of course my mind shifted to possible scenarios of why Kevin might have to be called... medical emergencies such as accidental injuries were the first things to pop into my head.  My nervousness was growing the more I thought about the whole thing.  What I was thinking must have been written all over my face, because suddenly Kevin laughed and gave me a knowing look. 

“I think Master Kinney may find you amusing.”

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Kevin had taken my clothes and anything else I'd wastefully packed, my self consciousness settled in as I sat on my bunk only wearing a tiny leather thong.  I wondered if I'd ever get used to it.  I never could understand how someone would choose a thong over regular, comfortable underwear.  Not to mention, my skin was as pale as a ghost.  I'd been so busy with work all the way up to the time I was scheduled to get on the ship, that I hadn't even had time to think about trying to get some color on my white ass before I left.   

Kevin had given me a robe, but it was very light and almost sheer.  I wondered what the hell the point was of even having one, but as I held it in my hands and stared at it, I decided it was better than nothing.

When we reached land, I was instructed to leave my room and follow the rest of the members in a single file line off the ship.  Everyone was clad in the same robes.   Once we were outside I was in awe of how beautiful it was!  The sky had never looked more blue, and the sand was so white and looked as though it had crystals in it.  The area had tons of large palm trees.  I'd seen the water when I was on the ship, but when I saw everything together, the whole picture, it was simply breathtaking, and just made it all so fucking fantastic and awesome.  It was paradise. I wished that they hadn't taken my camera from me.  I wanted to photograph and paint everything in sight. 

I was so much in my own world for a few moments that I'd almost forgotten what had brought me to the Island in the first place, that is, until I heard a strong voice yelling, “Hello, everyone, I'm Emmett, and I'd like to welcome you all to La Isla Erotica!  Now, everyone stay in a single file line and follow me!”  The tall, rather flamboyant man led us across the beach, muttering a few comments to some of the men in front of the line. 

I guessed that maybe there were probably over 50 members altogether as I followed in line to this very large tent and into a side entrance that led to a back stage. 

“What's going on?” I heard the lean, red-headed man standing in front of me ask in a low tone. 

The tall blond standing in front of him only shrugged his shoulders.  “It's my first time here too,” he whispered back.   

We were all standing on a large back stage area.  We could see there were people in the audience out there laughing and talking amongst each other as they waited.  I guessed that these were the “guests” that Kevin had told me to expect. 

We all waited around for several minutes.  A lot of the men were quietly talking to each other. Some of them seemed to have their adrenaline pumping through their veins and looked excited.  Others looked a little nervous or curious.  I just stayed quiet, as I peeked out at the audience while a million thoughts ran through my mind.  I started to feel nervous to the point of losing my lunch.  I had never liked being the center of attention.  At that moment, I saw Jeff again, and his eyes met mine.  He smiled at me, and once again, I felt myself relax a little.

The man named Emmett started clapping his hands at us to get our attention. 

“Okay, listen up!  This is what's going to happen.  I'm going to be announcing Master Kinney's arrival and then shortly after that, I'll be calling you all one by one, to introduce you.  Once I call your name, you're to go out on the stage and remove your robe to show 'em all what you've got.”

There was a murmur amongst the men, and Emmett smiled at us widely and put his hand up to shush us.  “Okay, important things to remember, gentlemen. When I've finished your intro, you're to step off the stage and go down the steps and continue down the red carpet that leads to where Master Kinney is seated.  Once there, you're to drop down to you knees and kiss his feet. You're not to say anything to him unless he speaks to you first.  No eye contact, and keep your head low.” 

Most of the men nodded in understanding.  My heart was beating fast, and I thought for sure I was going to be sick.  This place seemed like a freak show.

“Are you okay?  You don't look so good,” a handsome guy with a Spanish accent asked me in a hushed voice.

“I – I can't do this.  I think I've made a mistake...”

“Well, it's too late now.  The ship already left,” he explained, and patted my shoulder.  “Looks like you don't have a choice.”

“We always have a choice,” I frowned.  “And I'm going the fuck home.  I don't care who I have to talk to or what I have to do.” 

“You know, this place is not so bad.  This is my second time being here.  You should give it a try, my friend,” he told me.  Then unexpectedly I felt a slap on my ass.  “It's worth it,” he purred. 

I looked at him in surprise, but before I could say or do anything about it, I heard Emmett's voice on a loud speaker. 

“Hello, Gents, and Gents!  Welcome to La Isla Erotica!”

I felt the pit of my stomach drop as I heard the cheering and whistling from the men in the audience. 

“My name is Emmett Honeycutt, or some of you may have previously known me as 'Honey'.” More cheers, whistles and cat calls were heard again., and a man shouted something that sounded like 'Hell, yeah, Baby!” 

“Thanks, sugar,” he laughed.  “Well, in case you didn't hear, I'm no longer a member, I'm an employee now... but just so you know, my door is always open for some playtime after hours,” he said with a wink.

There was more cheering and a couple of shouts of invitations by various men in the audience.

“All right, let's get the fun started!  We are so very pleased to have you all here.  And to give you a heads up... my, my, do we have some fine looking morsels here this year!” he grinned widely, and the audience clapped.  “– and some fresh meat too,” Emmett added, which produced more hollering and cheering. 

Christ!  These men were like animals in heat!  I wrapped my robe impossibly tighter around myself, determined that I was going to be on a plane back home by that night no matter what.

“But before we bring out our members, pun intended... I present to you, our King of this Island, Master Kinney!”

There was an eruption of applause and everyone in the whole place had their eyes glued on the beautiful man with auburn hair whom entered the room riding in a small black buggy, which was physically being pulled by two large, muscular men in leather vests and shorts.

I was mesmerized by how fucking hot Master Kinney was.  He was wearing a black speedo with a matching silk black robe that hung open to reveal his body.  I could see his every muscle and curve on his golden sun-kissed skin. 

One of the leather clad men walked around and got down on his hands and knees so that Master Kinney could use his back as a step to get out of the buggy.  Master Kinney was tall, and had carried himself in a self-assured and proud manner.  I felt my cock stir, and almost forgot my determination of going home. 

Almost.    

I watched as he walked over to a very comfortable looking sofa and sat down.  He snapped his fingers at the second man in leather who seemed to already know what he wanted, and immediately got out a pack of cigarettes from his leather vest pocket and handed one to Master Kinney, and then lit it for him.   Master Kinney took a long drag, exhaled the smoke, and relaxed into the sofa, before nodding.

“Bring them out.”

He looked completely at ease and confident, as he gazed around the room, seemingly scoping out the guests in the audience.  I saw him smirk as he noticed some of the men salivating over him. 

I was brought out of my daze, when I heard some sort of electronic trance type of music start pumping through large speakers, and Emmett's voice was once again on the loud speaker.

“As I said, lots of hotties up in here this time around!  Let's bring them out!” he shouted, which brought on a huge applause. 

“Our first member is no stranger to this island.  He's 27 years old, and comes from New York.  He's a computer techie by day, and wild boy by night... let's hear it for 'Fox'!”

The guests cheered and whistled as a tall, dark haired man with blue eyes and amazing abs shed his robe on stage and turned so everyone could admire his body.  He smiled and winked at some of the men before gracefully running down the steps, and followed the red carpet to where Master Kinney was sitting on his sofa. 

Fox immediately dropped to his knees submissively and kissed Master Kinney's right bare foot, and then actually gave it a little lick.  Master Kinney smiled his approval, and leaned over and whispered something into the man's ear while affectionately running his hands through the man's dark hair, as if he were a pet being acknowledged for his good deed.  I saw Fox's cock get hard through his already too-tiny thong, and wondered what Master Kinney had whispered. 

Fox stood up, and kept his eyes low and then walked over to an area of empty chairs off to the side, where all the members were to sit.

“Seems our 'Fox' is more than ready to get started – no surprise there!” Emmett said, causing some of the audience to chuckle. 

“Next, we have another fairly experienced member from California.  He's an electrician definitely lookin' to light up your stay on the island!  Here's Puck!” Emmett exclaimed.  I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the cheesiness of these introductions.

Puck moved his hips to the music as he walked on stage, and then threw his robe to the side, smiling confidently.  He was medium height, with sandy blond hair and brown eyes.  He wasn't too muscular, but toned enough to appreciate his body.  Puck started dancing a bit to the music, showing off some dance moves as well as some of his best assets.

I was getting more and more nervous, but knew I had a ways to go before Emmett would call me to the stage, since he was going in alphabetical order (according to our real last names).  I continued to watch as one by one, another man was introduced on stage.  None of them appeared to be very nervous.  Some of the ones that I'd overheard were new members did look a little nervous, but once they got on stage it seemed to melt away as they showed off their bodies and smiled before meeting Master Kinney – or rather his feet. 

“Next, we have Angel – who is back for his second year on the island.  Angel has come all the way from Madrid, and is eager to show you just how much of an 'Angel' he can be!” Emmett chuckled. 

I watched as the handsome man with the Spanish accent I'd been talking to earlier went out on stage and shed off his robe.  There was a gasp in the audience.  He had a beautiful body; toned in all the right places, but not overly muscular.  He had a silver nipple ring that glistened in the light.  I'd never really thought too much of piercings before, but on Angel it looked really sexy, especially against his cinnamon skin.  He had a gorgeous smile with deep dimples in his cheeks.  I was sure he got hit on by both women and men daily. 

I was lost in thought and then suddenly totally in shock when I heard Emmett finally announce, “Next, we have Justin, who is another new member!  This cutie comes from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and is a photographer and artist with his own business...”

I froze.  The guy standing behind me gave me a little push.  “Hey, is that you?  Go on, get out there!” he told me.  Everyone back stage stared at me as I remained still as a statue.

“Oh, Justin!  Don't be shy, honey.  Come on out,” Emmett smiled, gesturing with his hand to come out onto the stage. 

I defiantly wrapped my robe around myself tighter and shook my head no. 

“Hey, it's no big deal. Go on!” another guy urged.

I felt my hands shaking, and I shook my head again.  “I can't...”

“Seems, Justin has a little stage fright.  Let's see if we can't change that,” Emmett said, and walked back over to me.  “Come on sweetie, they're all waiting for you!” he said as he covered the microphone with his hand, and then grabbed my hand and dragged me on stage.  “Take off your robe, sweetie,” he instructed. 

I looked out at all the faces of the men in the audience and saw the hungry look in their eyes. One man with huge muscles and sporting the “bald” look, started licking his lips and smiling.

“I'm sorry... I changed my mind.  I don't belong here,” I stuttered. 

I looked over and made eye contact with Master Kinney for the first time.  He was giving me a curious look, and had one eyebrow raised.

Emmett seemed to be panicking now, his show not going the way it was supposed to, and was helplessly exchanging looks first with some of the staff, and then Master Kinney. 

I continued to just stand there, robe tightly secured, with the music still pumping, but not moving at all to the beat. 

“Take it off, Blondie!” the 'Baldie' yelled out, which ended up being the start of a mantra by practically everyone in the room, as they repeatedly stated, “Take. It. Off!  Take. It. Off!”

“Just do it, you fucking prude!” one of the members back stage yelled. 

I sighed.  At this point I was already beyond humiliated as it was.  I decided I might as well just give them what they want so I can get it over with and then as soon as humanly possible, get the fuck out of this crazy place.

“All right, fine.  You want it off?  Here,” I yelled in frustration over the music, and untied my robe before pulling it off and letting it slide from my shoulders and onto the floor of the stage.  I forced any fear or nervousness that existed to the back of my mind right then, and gave them a little show, dancing and moving my hips to the techno beat.  It wasn't the type of music I usually listened to, but at that moment, I didn't really mind it, and once I started dancing around in my leather thong, everyone cheered and clapped. 

My heart was beating fast, and I realized I got a slight rush from my little moment of bravery. 

“Looks like he may be a keeper after all,” Emmett stated into his microphone, and I took that as my cue to get off stage.  I grabbed my robe and put it back on as I made my way down the steps and red carpet that led to where Master Kinney was seated. 

I didn't lower my eyes.  I didn't drop to my knees.  We gave each other a hard stare.  He had such beautiful, intense hazel eyes that bore into mine. His expression was a mixture of displeasure and amusement.

“Mr. Kinney... “ I started to say, and immediately, a sharp look of disapproval crossed his face.  “I want to leave,” I continued, tying my robe around me in a secure knot.

Mr. Kinney leaned forward as if he were going to tell me a secret.  “I don't recall anyone asking what you wanted,” he said.  He then calmly leaned back into the sofa and took a drag of his clove cigarette and exhaled before adding, “In fact, I don't recall anyone giving you the privilege to speak,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, stunned. 

By this time, I was very much aware that the music had been turned almost all the way down and that everyone's eyes were on us.

“You were given a specific list of instructions before you arrived, and also before you went on stage.  I expect all members to respect me and follow those instructions,” he said sternly.

“I'm... not a member.  I've changed my mind,” I argued.

He nodded, and then proceeded to give me a condescending smile. “Let me make one thing clear, Blue Eyes.  You asked to be accepted to this island, and now that you're here, you're on my turf, and there are rules here.  If you can't follow the simplest of instructions, you'll get nowhere, fast.  You want me to hear you out, you'll have to do things my way.”  

“I don't know what you mean,” I frowned.  What did this guy expect me to do?  I didn't want to be in this crazy place anymore.  These people were freaks.  He couldn't really expect me to play along like everyone else was...

He then sat up straight, looked me square in the eye and said, “It means, get the fuck down on your knees.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot.  I had never experienced humiliation like this.  He expected me to get on my knees and kiss his feet like some little worshiping slave?  Oh, fuck no! I thought.

“I'm not playing your game, Mr. Kinney,” I told him. 

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I explained how things work here.  So it's up to you.  Either you choose to do this my way, or you're going to make things harder on yourself.  The choice is yours,” he said. 

Fuck it,  I thought.  I'd play his stupid little game if it was what I had to do to get myself back home to the land of sanity.

I let my hands drop to my sides in defeat.  “Fine,” I muttered, and then dropped down to my knees, knelt forward and kissed his bare feet, which I might add, were nice looking feet -- but of course I wouldn't have admitted that to anyone.  I looked back up at him, meeting his gaze once again, waiting for him to say something or dismiss me. 

He looked over at the two men in leather who'd pulled him in on the buggy, and waved at them. “Russell.  Drake.  Take him to room zero.  I'll be dealing with him later,” he told them.  

I panicked a little as I felt the two big guys each grab one of my arms and escort me out of the tent, as everyone watched.  “Where the fuck are you taking me?  Let me go!” I shouted, but of course it fell upon deaf ears.  What I wanted was irrelevant, I soon realized.

As soon as I was out of the tent, I heard the music get turned back up again.  I guessed the show was back on.