Chapter 1

Karl Newman was pretty messed up – the result of a sexually confused Colorado childhood.  Around the time he hit puberty he was introduced to sex through the keyhole of his mother’s bedroom door.  It was seldom that the single mother needed to satiate her lustful urges but, occasionally, strange men would visit and nights of forceful love-making would ensue.

Always curious, Karl would watch through the spy-hole and masturbate as his mother was ridden hard from behind or from the front with her legs spread wide. Her ample breasts bounced enthusiastically during these sessions and the men would pound deep, unrelenting, eventually finding release in what Karl assumed was a mixture of pain and ecstasy.  From the look on their faces it could be nothing else. 

The attractive woman was also prone to forgetfulness – often walking around the house naked, not realising the affect she was having on her son. The poor boy would relieve himself at every opportunity and had little need of adult magazines.  Instead, he had the images of his naked mother in his head and a disturbing mixture of excitement and revulsion.

By a twist of fate, Mister John Lewison had just been appointed the new history teacher at Karl’s school.  Thereafter began an inner battle between the boy’s natural attraction to the opposite sex, including his mother, and an unnatural fear of women that the new mentor instilled in the class.

Lewison was an unusual individual and less-than-perfect role model for young men, due to an unhealthy obsession with the Amazonians – an ancient female warrior race.  Tales of how the women would amputate their left breasts to draw their swords in battle paled by comparison to how they would capture adult males to satisfy their debased carnal desires. 

Of course, the new teacher did validate this by remarking how the women needed to procreate – thereby allowing their race to continue.  Young girls were trained in the art of combat, as were their mothers, while boys would be abandoned or slaughtered.  The tall educator, with his flowing jet-black hair and green eyes, was also something of a collector. Ancient Amazonian artefacts, costing far more than the man could possibly afford on his meagre salary, took pride of place in his home.

Moreover, he treated women badly – at least those that failed to live up to his Amazonian ideal.  On one occasion Karl had seen Miss O’Reilly, the good-looking economics teacher, run crying from Lewison’s office, clutching her torn clothes to her semi-naked body.  No one dared complain about the history teacher, including Miss O’Reilly who never returned to the school.

But it was the very idea of procreation that troubled Karl the most.  Copulating with a one-breasted muscle-bound Amazonian female was both strangely erotic and disturbing.  As the teacher told of glorious battles where arrows rained and swords stung flesh, Karl’s mind would wander to the tents and how the men were ‘used’ as mere sex objects – sometimes by several women at once.

Eventually, by the time he left school, Karl realised he needed a less dominant female and, in desperation, turned to his mother.  But, to be fair, it wasn’t a major leap of imagination as his mother loved to fuss over him as a way to suppress her own sexual tensions.  She even insisted that bath time continue as it always had and would wash him as he relaxed in the hot soapy water.

The delicate fragrance of bath oils and his mothers perfume complimented the encounter, while the experience of the wet sponge on his genitals and enthusiastic towel-drying afterward left him fully satisfied.  Yet, Karl wanted more.  His earlier brain-washing and lack of any real female companionship had taken its toll, but his own physical needs drove him onward. 

On his eighteenth birthday, Karl told his mother how much he wanted her, but the reaction was quite unexpected.  She stormed upstairs demanding he vacate the house by morning.  Her words had been a weapon – plunging into his chest to strike at his heart.  Devastated, he remained downstairs by the log fire and contemplated his future, or whether he even wanted one.  But, less than two hours later, his mother appeared in the doorway, her dressing gown loosely tied around her waist displaying ample bosom.

She was ravishing... the light from the hall behind revealed her delicate feminine contours through the thin material.  Long, slender legs, thin waist and full breasts created perfection.  She looked downward at the wooden floor as she spoke.  “I know what you said was out of love, Karl. I’m so sorry I didn’t understand”.

As she approached him, her gown gently slipped to the floor, revealing her full naked body.  He had often seen her unclothed, but this was different.  The warmth of the log fire and her hot breath on his face were intoxicating.  She kissed him gently, her tongue slipping between his lips.  He responded gratefully - probing her mouth and breathing in her scent.  She helped him undress and led him to the sheepskin rug – an oasis of comfort against the hard timber floor.

“When you think of this moment years from now” she said, “please remember I love you, son, and I always will”.  He nodded – unable to speak, his eyes admiring her beautifully erect nipples and prominent vaginal mound. She lay beneath him and guided him in – the sensation sending ripples down his spine and across his stomach.  She was hot and wet, the tightness far more pleasurable than his own hand had ever achieved. Before long, he was a man.

The night lingered and they made love repeatedly.  Each time, she would teach him more about sex and how to please a woman and, just before each climax; she would hold Karl tight as he thrust deeper.  But fate is a strange thing... by the time dawn had chased the shadows away, his mother had departed this world – the result of a heart condition she had kept from him.

The family home was her legacy but the lands upon which it sat had recently been rezoned.  Karl, still a teenager, was truly alone for the first time in his life yet incredibly wealthy.  He wandered from town to town for a number of years, trying to find meaning and purpose but acquiring little of both.  That was, until a chance meeting with Victoria Summers.

She was a stunningly attractive thirty-something woman with European-Asian heritage and a sensuous personality.  Karl negotiated a fee with the escort agency and before long was enjoying both incredible sex and generous discounts.  Victoria clearly cared for the young man but Karl, damaged by his unusual upbringing, failed to notice and their relationship remained purely professional. She introduced him to pleasures previously unknown and his confidence grew with each night. 

Yet he couldn’t understand why someone so gorgeous had chosen the oldest profession.  “Men need to dominate or be dominated” she revealed.  “It’s the nature of the beast.”  Her popularity, based on an earlier career as a glamour model, was a distinct advantage. “Men love celebrities…” she said.  “Imagine what I could charge if I were a famous actress!”

At that instant, Karl made the connection.  Everything happens for a reason and the events in his life had led him to this very moment.  Men would pay big money for sex with famous women, and famous women would give themselves for money. It couldn’t be more perfect... and Victoria was just the woman to help him create ‘Celebrity Island’.

*****

The residents of Boulder City, where the Rocky Mountains meet the Great Plains, were no strangers to warm mornings and gentle breezes.  Nearby, traffic flowed along the Nevada Highway and the local coffee shops were filling with citizens seeking their latest caffeine fix. Takara, an alluring Japanese lady with dark hair and smart business attire, had recently opened a jewelers shop off Wyoming Street and it was thriving.

She had chosen to have the sign in Japanese and the locals, who were unable to read the name, casually referred to the establishment as ‘Takara’s’, which meant ‘treasure’. This befitted both the twenty-something woman and her store, where gold and diamond encrusted necklaces adorned the displays.  Sapphires, emeralds and rubies nestled with fashionable watches from Europe and the latest in palladium gift items.

The lady relied on her sexuality to attract male customers – she appeared unattainable yet exuded raw sex. Red lipstick and black eye shadow accentuated her delicate oriental features and created a mouth-watering illusion of perfection.  This proved extremely useful with Jimmy; her young assistant, whose youth and hormones were easily manipulated to procure free overtime and reduced pay. “Morning, Takara”, he said as he entered the shop.  “Looks like another great morning!” 

She smiled sweetly.  Jimmy had his right hand in his trouser pocket, as he always did when he looked at her. “Good morning.” she replied. “Can you finish opening, please?”  He watched, enthralled, as she stood outside the main window and placed a cigarette between her lips – then flicked her lighter and inhaled softly before releasing a plume of smoke that was carried away on the soft breeze.  Takara knew men, even those who were opposed to smoking, liked to watch young women light a cigarette and Jimmy was no exception.  Put simply, she was a tease.

Business was fairly brisk that day and generally uneventful, apart from mid afternoon when a tall monk, in traditional attire, entered the shop.  His religious garments sported a loose hood that covered most of his face, while commanding green eyes peered from within.  After browsing the silver gift section for a while, he quietly disappeared. 

The day drew to an end and the last of the customers left. Jimmy closed the shutters while Takara took the cash to the safe.  For commercial reasons, most of the stock remained in the windows and display cases, meaning the stock room was rarely used. He busied himself with the receipts, then headed back to join his employer.  But the hooded monk was waiting and Jimmy soon found the barrel of a gun pressed firmly against his head.

The safe was open and completely empty and Takara had been stripped naked.  She stood shivering, wrists bound together while tape covered her mouth.  Without the formality of her clothes, a Brazilian wax was unmistakable and not a trace of pubic hair remained. A tattoo of a red cartoon devil was exquisitely positioned on her hip while a gold anklet adorned her leg. 

Every curve and fold of her alabaster skin was flawless and, despite the strong possibility that he might die, the young man’s penis rose to the occasion.  Barely restrained within his trousers, his cock trembled in anticipation.  “You know you want it, boy”, the monk whispered in his ear, “and today’s your lucky day... a gift from God, if you will!” 

The monk pushed him toward a chair and shook the gun at Takara. “Do him, bitch, or I’ll kill you both”.  The weapon was nondescript but still a formidable incentive. For Jimmy, the next ten years of Christmas and birthday presents had come at once and he quickly removed his garments. He sat, legs wide, and would later tell skeptical police officers it was purely to save his employers life and for no other reason.

His erection was huge and Takara balked at the veins that bulged along the shaft.  Torn between disgust and desire, light tears escaped from her eyes which meandered across the fragile contours of her skin.  The young man groaned with pleasure as she began to caress his manhood with her fingers and tongue - his penis twitched at each stroke and pre-cum dripped from the head.  The monk pushed the gun into the nape of her neck.  “The way God intended, whore”. 

She stood, then straddled the young man, carefully lowering herself onto him - gyrating her hips to encourage entry.  Her face was tantalizingly close to his – the strands of her hair swept across his cheek and he marveled at how such a small body could accept every inch. Her insides were incredibly hot and his penis filled her completely.

She winced slightly as Jimmy held her hips and began to thrust.  They moved in rhythm – the drive of her pelvis sending shivers into his stomach, his muscles tingling with each stroke.  She rode his meat, her wrists clasped tight around his neck.

Leaning forward, he sucked her left breast, teasing and grinding the dark nipple between his teeth.  A tiny drop of blood came from the wound and glistened against her flesh.  Takara, lost in the moment, increased her stride, breathing heavily, embracing the dull ache in her groin.

The monk, on the other hand, was already in the main shop and transferring copious amounts of jewellery from the displays into his deep pockets.  His hood slipped slightly, revealing the rugged features of John Lewison, the history teacher.  Amazonian artifacts were both expensive and addictive and required the occasional bit of ‘overtime’.

But Takara’s mind was on other things.  Jimmy thrust even deeper, the friction of their genitals delivering waves of delight and they became one.  All that counted was pleasure, all they sought was release.  Tomorrow would be awkward between them but neither cared. 

Besides, in a few weeks, morning sickness would present a whole new set of problems.

Chapter 2

Several years passed and the resort was well established on a small island in the Philippines.  Just west of the Visayas, it was both remote and exotic as only tropical locations can offer.  Clear skies and translucent green-blue waters surrounded the oasis, while palm trees, ferns and mangoes provided a natural canopy.

Against all the odds for such a remote setting, the resort itself was even more luxurious.  Of traditional Filipino design, the hotel complex was constructed with copious amounts of marble, granite and mahogany – all painstakingly imported by boat from the main islands.  Surrounded by three swimming pools, tennis courts and gymnasiums, it lacked little more than a helicopter pad.

But Karl preferred seaplanes as being more adventurous and had extended the wooden jetty accordingly.  He watched from his penthouse balcony as the light aircraft descended gracefully, landing just off-shore.  It taxied across the water before cutting its engines, gliding the remaining distance to the jetty.  Sun-bronzed locals quickly secured it with rope and helped the three female passengers disembark.

The women were stunning – blonde, brunette and red head, being the latest batch of celebrities to sign contracts with the resort.  Victoria would be waiting for them inside the main building and the initiation would soon begin.  There was a natural order to life on the island... every woman that arrived was a celebrity, be it actress, singer or socialite. 

By contrast, the male guests were all wealthy - drawn from business, entertainment or politics.  They were here to have sex; as perverse or debased as they wished and as much of it as their Viagra could accommodate.  Some favoured casual love-making, but the vast majority preferred more forceful activities.  The only rule was that no physical harm be inflicted on the women.

Well, at least nothing permanent.  To this effect, the women were carefully monitored and assigned private nurses to ensure their continued well-being.  The vast array of whips, gags, chains and bondage accessories compared favourably to the costumes the women were assigned.  Tight bodices revealed both open breasts and pussy while accentuating their female curves and above-the-knee leather boots provided the finishing touch.

Each woman was different in how they adjusted to their new ‘duties’.  Some would initially cry and whimper while others would revel in the debauchery that followed, but they would all learn unique insights into the male psyche and their own repressed desires.  This was a world that Karl had created and now thrived within.  It was his to protect and to nurture.

Inside his penthouse lay Karl’s latest conquest – Julie Traylor, actress from the recently cancelled show ‘Federal Agents’ and whose career, as a result, was in hiatus.  Her time on the island had been well spent.  One of the male guests, being an influential producer, had taken a personal interest and she would be leaving the resort tomorrow with renewed hope for the future.

Until then, she was Karl’s plaything and he intended to enjoy every moment.  The young woman lay spread-eagled on the red satin sheets - her wrists and ankles tied to the four posters of the bed while thin cord pulled at her knees to keep the slender legs apart. The pink labia were open and inviting but, for now, he had other interests in mind.

Julie wore a leather harness which tied around her head and forced her mouth apart by means of a circular ‘bit’ – the discomfort from her jaws evident in her eyes while a stream of saliva escaped from the corner of her mouth.  Karl dropped his trousers and stroked his cock before guiding it past the teeth and down into her throat.

He thrust back and forth admiring how her throat stretched to accommodate his manhood, the pleasurable tightness at the tip of his penis a welcome sensation as it rubbed against her oesophagus. She gagged slightly but, being no stranger to pleasuring men orally, she kept still as he rode to completion – forcing as deep as he could, his testicles pressing against her face, before exploding into her throat.

The white liquid seeped from her nose but he held her head until his spasms subsided – the remaining protein sliding down her throat into an awaiting stomach.  Only then did he allow her to breathe. Karl smiled to himself... the most beautiful women were his for the taking and he could do what he wished.  Later that evening he would give her to the local men who served the island. After all, he mused, occasionally you have to throw the hounds some prime beef!

***

Knowledge of the island was restricted to the upper echelons of society, spread mainly by word-of-mouth between friends to ensure confidentiality.  Irrespective of the generous fees the women commanded, if the public were to learn of the island, the supply of female volunteers would dry up, as would the business. 

This was how Victoria explained it to the three new arrivals – each having been carefully selected, not just for their looks but also for the personalities that made them famous. Deciding whose hot and who’s not in the ever-changing world of entertainment was an art. She considered herself such an artist and was well-paid for her services.  She had remained with Karl these past few years as his business associate and occasional lover.

She guided the women into the main hall while the Filipino staff carried the luggage up the sweeping stairs. The hall was exquisitely decorated – native bamboo flooring, generous white leather seats, giant plasma satellite screens, sprawling rugs, crystal chandeliers and a complimentary bar that boasted cocktails and beverages from around the world. Large panoramic windows overlooked the bay and staff polished and vacuumed to perfection.

They sat near the windows and the local bartender, a young man with designer white shirt and knee-length trousers, smiled infectiously as he placed cocktails on the table before them. Miniature umbrellas and heart-shaped pineapple slices decorated each of the glasses.  The blonde, singer Kristina Marsalle, a well-endowed specimen with untamed waist length hair and the youngest of the three, sipped her drink gratefully while she surveyed the surroundings.

The singer was draped with a yellow tank-top that left little to the imagination – the thin transparent material hung from erect nipples and ended just below the crease of her breasts.  She adjusted it slightly as she spoke, an upper London inflection accentuating her soft voice. “I don’t normally do this... it’s just that ‘em, I need to promote my new album, and we’ve decided to, well, go in a new direction...”.

In truth, her record company had cancelled her contract due to declining sales but, desperate to remain in the public eye, a privately funded album seemed her only option. Still, Kristina’s loss was the islands gain. The girl’s naturally generous curves and taut skin would quickly ensure her popularity with the male guests.

By comparison, the brunette Tanya Scott – a porn star at the height of her career with deep blue eyes and luscious lips, had been surgically enhanced in all the right places.  Silicone breasts, butt implants and strategic liposuction helped create an artificial, yet alluring, femininity. Her most recent film – an Italian porn flick entitled Naked Amazonians was hugely successful as straight-to-DVD films go. She smiled to herself and casually lit a long cigarette, exhaling the blue smoke. “Don’t worry, love”, she said. “Just lie back and think of England”. 

Victoria had heard it all before. “Your reasons for being here are private”, she said, “As are the identities of our male guests who will arrive in a few hours. You may recognise some of the men but you must not address them by name... unless, of course, they introduce themselves first. Put simply, you are here to serve them in whatever manner they wish, and as often as they desire”.

The third woman, red-head Amanda Lloyd, remained strangely quiet as she gazed into her drink and absently moved the ice with her finger. As a Hollywood A-list celebrity, the thirty-something actress exuded elegance, sophistication and sex appeal. Her time on the island was necessitated by a very messy divorce and a bitter ex-husband with enough clout to ensure none of the studios would offer her work.

Despite abundant talent and an academy nomination, hers was a tale of desperation.  The pale skinned beauty had only agreed to participate for an extremely high fee and if sexual contact were limited to just one man.  This had required an exceptionally wealthy client and a Sheikh had prepaid very generously for the privilege.

His reputation preceded him and there was little doubt she would be made to earn every cent. Therefore, as a reluctant participant, Victoria would have to speak with Amanda privately.  Full customer satisfaction was essential and refunds were not an option. 

***

Sheikh Shakhir preferred the more arid regions of the Middle East and had constructed his palace as an oasis of beauty in a desolate landscape. The glass-domed structure was a beacon of light against the shimmering sand.  Balconies adorned the inner courtyard and fountains containing exotic fish complimented a central pool of clear water.

But beneath the architectural splendour lay an underground dungeon. Authentic torture devices acquired from private museums in Europe mingled with modern items created by the Sheikh himself.  As palace staff maintained the building above, female captives suffered in the world below.

The Sheikh was a distinguished gentleman, in his early fifties with a greying beard and intense brown eyes. In normal circumstances, for a woman to be selected as his favourite would be a good thing.  But, in the subdued light of the dungeon, it meant constant fear, sexual degradation and pain. A local beauty named Haleema had been the object of his ‘affection’ for nearly three months.

Time had little meaning for Haleema, or for her three lovely companions, each of whom were shackled and bound for his pleasure.   He would visit as he wished – his approaching footsteps causing dread and loathing in the helpless women.  He would appear naked, his erection firm and ready.

The dungeon ‘guests’ were invariably taken from the women’s prisons where they served unjust sentences for minor crimes – always being returned before their sentences were up. Sex outside of marriage, even against their will, was shunned in society and frequently brought criminal prosecution against the victims. Consequently, what happened in the dungeon, stayed in the dungeon. 

But Haleema was different. Her only crime was her beauty.  She possessed eyes that sparkled with an inner fire and the classic features of a goddess. He had seen this only once before - during Amanda Lloyd’s visit to his country.  The studio had filmed in the desert nearby and Amanda had been a guest at the palace on several occasions. 

‘Lucky’ Haleema hung by chains from the ceiling, swaying slightly as her captor carefully checked the restraints and tightened where necessary. Her arms were tied mercilessly behind her, shoulders pulled back, while her legs were wide and tethered to the floor. Unable to plead for mercy, she bit down hard on the ball gag that filled her mouth – anticipating what was to come. The other females watched, grateful they had been spared for now.

The warmth of the dungeon created beads of perspiration on her golden skin. He noticed the spark had begun to disappear from the woman’s eyes but the shape of her calves and form of her breasts were still inviting. He trailed his fingers along the inside of her thigh, then pulled her roughly to him before stretching her anus with his fingers.  She had recently been cleaned inside and out by his staff and he was pleased with their attention to detail. The only odour was the sweet smell of fear.

Selecting a whip from a nearby display, he flashed it across her breasts, then around her thighs. She was powerless to defend herself, pitiful noises rising from her throat.  The Sheikh struck again, across the shoulders and buttocks, the red lines swelling in the soft skin. Her sounds became more guttural with each blow.  Each time he struck, the force would rock her gently and she would lose consciousness, only to be brought back with each new lash. 

The Sheikh sighed. It was a shame. He could tell her heart wasn’t in it today. 

He struck a few more times, concentrating on her bottom, tenderising it.  Her ass was always tight, which required considerable force to drive his cock home.  From behind, his powerful arms pulled her onto him and she writhed as he gradually entered her rectum, her anal muscles ached and stung with each push.  The Sheikh knew to take it very slow.  The longer it took, the more her suffering caused muscle spasms that gripped and massaged his penis. This was the best part and he enjoyed every wave of pleasure until he could delay no longer.

Her insides were incredibly smooth, tight and inviting.  He thrust, both hands on her hips for maximum control, pounding deep and hard.  Her backside clamped around his cock and the pleasure increased – the tingle running along the underside of his member and into his stomach.  He groaned with satisfaction as he came, fingers digging into her flesh, pushing deep, spraying her insides as the testicles jerked to empty every last drop.

Exhausted, he released her and steadied himself against the wall, breathing deeply. The woman hung limp in the still air.  Semen dripped from her anus which ran down the inside of her legs.  Yet, despite the pleasure the sheik gained from these women, it was never fully satisfying. It had become almost mechanical.

Satiating a man’s desires only serves to numb him from the very pleasures he craves, and he had reached that point.  Sex was freely available to him.  He could have any woman he desired, yet he wanted more than sex and bondage could provide. Instinctively, he realised Amanda Lloyd – the alluring Hollywood actress, had something he needed. He wasn’t sure what that was, but only she could change his life.

Chapter 3

The island excelled in many areas, but the cuisine was especially noteworthy. Fresh seafood and international dishes garnered constant approval from the paying guests. The aroma of fresh tropical fruits blended with the fragrances of native flowers. The kitchen was spacious, well equipped and empty, save for Victoria and Amanda. 

This was Victoria’s favourite location on the island – especially during the day when the sun was at its height and the vegetation outside would smell of mild decay before the rains came. She finished blending two fruit shakes, offering the first to the actress who took a tentative sip, then smiled, pleasantly surprised at the creamy taste. 

“Being a celebrity is a strange thing”, Victoria said.  “The majority are incredibly attractive but it’s not a question of looks – personality counts the most”. Amanda regarded the hostess curiously, interested in where this would lead. “People seek perfection” she continued. “Celebrities present the best of themselves to the public. Perfect make-up, designer clothes and flawless looks all add to the fantasy”. 

Amanda took another sip, then placed the glass on the table, choosing her words carefully. “But even celebrities are human”, she said. “We have our problems, just like everyone else.  Sometimes, life sucks beyond the telling.  Paparazzi are everywhere. We live behind stone walls and electrified gates, in constant fear of stalkers.  Whichever way you look at it, a cage is still a cage – even if it’s gilded”.

“I agree it’s not easy”, Victoria confided as she sat and savoured her own drink. “People seek perfection, but it’s an illusion. Everything about celebrities is scripted – from the words they speak to the things they do.  But, on this island, men come to meet the real you.  It’s you they want to be with”. 

“Even the make-up here is carefully chosen to appear natural.  You see, men get a thrill from being close to you... seeing those small imperfections, breathing in your scent.  For them it’s the real deal and it gives you incredible power over them, even when they’re using you sexually”. Amanda remained doubtful, but allowed the hostess to finish.

“A few years ago, I was working as an escort when a very wealthy man approached my agency.  He had everything – money, power and looks – a real catch if he wasn’t already married!  Anyway, it turned out he wanted me as his son’s birthday present.  I used to be a model, so my photos were still in the men’s magazines and his son had developed quite a crush.  Young men are easily attracted to older women but, well, let’s just say this one had it bad”. 

“He’d never been with a girl before and was as horny as hell. Now, for me, sex was routine, but for him it meant much more”.  So, I had a full pussy wax, chose my sexiest underwear and pleasured him all night.  The first time, I licked my finger and inserted it deep into his ass as he came.  It blew his mind.  The poor kid was defenceless”.

“He gave himself to me completely and I pleasured him with every hole I had.  Each moment was special and, to him, I was perfect.  He would always remember me that way”. She paused. “That kind of power can be quite intoxicating”.

Amanda smiled, genuinely intrigued. “I’ve never had that before” she said, feeling slightly aroused.  Victoria reached across the table, held her hands and looked into her eyes.  “Women come here for all kinds of reasons, Amanda”, she said. Necessity, desperation, even adventure. Men may use you here, they may even abuse you, but I guarantee they need you more than you ever thought possible”.

***

Karl had developed a good rapport with local law enforcement and it paid to have friends in high places.  Each month, the Superintendent and Inspector from the Filipino National Police would visit the island to be shown a good time. In return, they would ensure the resort remained undisturbed.

This was fine for the officers who saw it as a win-win scenario.  Local women were not involved in any form of sexual activity while local men were given excellent jobs.  They saw themselves as facilitators for the good of the region while spending an evening a month doing what they liked best – having threesomes with a celebrity.

However, during these sessions the Superintendent noticed his subordinate officer had particularly large genitalia.  He viewed this as a challenge to his authority and sought penile enlargement at a private clinic in Manila.  Increased girth had been achieved by injecting fat cells taken from his abdomen, while increased length was achieved by surgery. 

This effectively pulled the concealed part of his penis out and increased the length from a respectable eight inches to a staggering twelve – far more than the surgeons had expected. It did have its downside however, as a woman’s vagina is considerably less than that – meaning he could now only enjoy deep penetration through anal sex.

  But, as it happened, Tanya had also undergone surgery - electing for radical vaginaplasty. This little-known procedure does more than just improve the appearance of the vagina and tighten the muscles to create enhanced grip and friction. In effect, by sacrificing fertility, it also opens the cervix and converts the uterus into an extension of the vagina – thus enabling a full fourteen inches of manhood to be inserted. 

Tanya was no stranger to group sex, having been the star of two ‘gangbang’ videos and, that night, accommodated the Superintendent the way nature intended... or at least the way surgery intended! The bodice she wore was suitably designed to leave breasts, ass and vagina easily accessible, which suited the men who happily traded sleep for more sex.  Their activities were both loud and energetic and continued through the night.

Meanwhile, in the neighbouring room, singer Kristina Marsalle was equally occupied by Dane Shetti – the ageing CEO of Shetti Industries who had booked her for a full week. His fascination with the famous singer had developed after seeing paparazzi photographs, which involved Kristina and a team of rugby players in a Jacuzzi. 

As the only female among a pack of red-blooded men, the inebriated woman had been ridden very hard for many hours, though had little memory of the event.  Fortunately, the public had been quite forgiving and she had gained legions of male fans in the process, including Shetti. 

His passion for rugby and for the singer’s beauty had pretty much sealed the deal.  He had to have her but possessed rather peculiar tastes – as she soon found out.  The ache in her limbs came from the leather bands that forced her legs back, knees bent, while her arms were tied behind her at the elbows.  

Inflatable anal and vaginal plugs sealed both holes and a lengthy dildo gag, which pressed against the back of her throat, completely filled her mouth.  For safety, an air hole was located up the centre of the gag which also helped prevent heaving.  It wouldn’t do to have a celebrity choke on her own saliva.