Pleasure Island—Ch. 1
Brianna stepped to the side as she got off the pier, looking around with interest. She had to say, for a Caribbean island it was just as beautiful as it should be. The sea behind her was the color of the clear sky above, the packed sand walkway was white, the trees lining it were palm. The flowers were huge and colorful. She was going to enjoy working here.
She stepped back into the flow of traffic, heading towards the main building. It came into view as she rounded the corner and was as beautiful as the rest of the island. Not really all that fancy, just simple lines and a pure white face with a black roof.
Everyone was pooling up in front of the main doors, and it was starting to get crowded. The seaplane (they still made those!) they arrived on had been full, and about half the passengers were here. Brianna looked over the women a moment. (They were all women, which slightly worried Brianna, but she had been assured at the interview that no one working for the resort would be required or asked to do anything beyond the usual hotel duties. She was going to hold them to that.)
Sheep, without a shepard. Brianna shook her head. They probably weren’t as stupid as they looked right now.
She worked her way through the crowd, and opened the double (was that mahogany?) front doors. She had almost expected marble floors, but they were a dark wood. Directly in front of her was a brass post holding a sign: ‘Orientation’, with a note below: ‘(Leave Bags Here)’. Brianna dropped her bag and followed the arrow, the crowd following her.
The building felt odd, somehow both abandoned and brand new at the same time. It gave Brianna a little thrill thinking about it. The building /was/ brand new: the resort hadn’t opened yet and she was to be part of the crew. The empty halls had just been built; in places she could see where the builders hadn’t even cleaned up fully. That was probably to be her and her companions first job.
The arrows eventually lead to a conference room. Rows of (padded, high-quality) folding chairs sat on a carpeted floor in front of a podium. On the far side of the room stood a row of tables with great big orange water jugs and stacks of inverted paper cups.
Brianna took center front. No one had actually been assigned jobs yet, as far as she knew. Presumably there was a manager somewhere, but beyond that it was still up for grabs, and she was planning on grabbing. And the best way to do that would be to get noticed.
Their host/boss arrived soon after. Must have pushed his way through the crowd. He walked up to the podium and started phutzing with some buttons. Nothing actually changed as far as Brianna could tell.
This was the first good look Brianna had gotten of her new employer. The recruiter had just been a random headhunter; her only previous glimpse of her boss had been when he had stuck his head out of the seaplane to welcome them aboard.
She decided she wouldn’t mind a little ‘sucking up’ if that’s what it took to get a good position. Not with him at least. Tall, at least six feet by Brianna’s estimation, he was built like he had time and money to spend on keeping in shape, and spent it well. Brown hair, brown eyes, which were currently focused entirely on the podium, obviously understanding exactly what it was he was doing and excluding all else. Hands that could easily snap the wood podium maneuvered with precision and grace around the buttons, stroking and adjusting them to exactly their owners preference.
Nope, she wouldn’t mind ‘sucking up’ one bit...
He finished whatever it was he was doing and took a step aside. “Come on in, take a seat. I’m sure everyone has questions, we’ll see how many we can answer here. Please, last one in close the door behind you.” There was a thump as the door closed.
“Everyone here?” The usual rhetorical question, followed by the usual silence. “Good. My name is Jason Byerson, and I welcome you to my newest resort: Pleasure Island. I know, I know, bad pun. The marketing folks tell me it will work wonders.”
“I could start with what still needs to be done, and what I expect you to do, but first I want you to really understand what Pleasure Island is about. To do that I’ve got a little orientation video I want you to watch.” He gave a little laugh. “Well, really it is a sales video with a little extra tacked on the end, but I’m not planning on using it too often so it should do. After that we’ll see where we go. Ok? Good.”
The lights had been dimming almost imperceptibly while he talked, with the exception on one spotlight on him. Brianna was startled a moment when it suddenly died out.
Well, at least she didn’t jump like the lady next to her, she figured.
The video started and Brianna tuned it out. She tried to watch her new employer, but he was walking to the back of the room. A quick look around showed her that everyone else was watching the video. She turned to watch as well.
The initial logo was fading off the screen, and the narrator came on. “Need to just get away from it all? The worries of the world wearing you down? There is one place, one island, where you need worry about nothing.” The video had been flying over the ocean and now arrived over the island.
“Come, let us look around. Starting with your arrival by seaplane you’ll see that this place is something special. Check in a moment, but don’t worry about going to your room just yet. Head right through the lobby, to our outdoor lounge.” The video paned around a huge, multi-sectioned swimming pool, showing the areas to just lounge around the edges, as well as the stand alone bars (including one actually in the pool) and the standard game areas.
“Moving out beyond that you will find plenty of activities to keep you busy: Pleasure Island caters to all types of pleasure. Play on our eight hole golf course, use our archery range, or just explore the island itself. There are miles of trail on our island, explorable on foot, bike, or pony. Take a tent with you and stay out if you want to; or just have it ready for you at night when you are finish your exploring. This is no small island: fully exploring it could take your whole stay.” The video has resorted to cut-shots of scenic vistas and sites to show the size of island: views from cliff-tops, jungle clearings, grassland meadows, and forest paths rolled in front of the seated audience, finishing with a view over the ocean.
“Of course, this is an island. We have miles of beaches,” The video rolled in a flyby of some of those miles, “and plenty of water-sports available. Wind surfing, diving and boating are all available, as a courtesy of the island. Swim in clear empty waters, or come over to our coral reefs and explore.” The camera dived under the waters and showed the abundant life of the reefs, with colored fish exploding everywhere.
“When you are done sampling the pleasures of our land, come back and sample the pleasures of our hospitality. Let one of our girls” Here the video had a blank white screen. Obviously a member of the audience would be in that shot. “show you to your rooms.” The suite shown was huge, and sumptuous. A king sized bed dominated one room, and a big screen TV another. But that was not the full extent of the suite: there was a full size kitchen and the bath contained both a shower and a hot tub. Brianna was impressed. “Our attentive staff will be happy to show you around the amenities. If you need anything just ask.”
“Or if you want anything, you may also just ask. Our girls are here solely to please you, anything you desire is possible here. The pleasures available are as varied as our patrons.” Here the video showed more suggestive scenes: rooms obviously designed for sexual play, blindfolds, handcuffs, dungeons, and more esoteric toys. Some had obvious purposes, others not so obvious.
“There are no consequences on Pleasure Island. The only payment you will make is for your reservation, once you are on the island anything you want is available at the cost of asking, or the ordering. Anything you want, the staff will provide or find for you. This is our guarantee, for this is Pleasure Island.” The video faded out from the logo.
Brianna sat stunned, like the rest of the new staff. Did they really think...
The video screen abruptly came back to life, a white background with their employer’s face centered on the screen. Brianna had to blink against the sudden brightness. Mr. Bryerson’s image smiled and spoke: “Well, I’m sure you can see I’ve tricked you into getting you here. You are to be the core crew of an ‘exotic’ resort, avalible to any of our patrons, and happy about it.”
“I’m not expecting you to like the idea right now. I’m expecting you to fight it tooth and nail in fact.” At this the perfect face in front of them smiled again and leaned forward. “That’s why I’m not here.” He leaned back. “I left as soon as the video started: by now I’m safely off the island in the plane. You girls have the island to yourselves.”
“My main business is electronic circuits. Byerson Industries has been in the miniaturization business for quite a while. Recently however we’ve made two breakthroughs. Breakthroughs we will not be advertising: you are the first to hear about them outside our labs.”
“The breakthroughs are related actually. The first is workable nanobots, on the true nano scale. They use subatomic quantum computers as brains and... Well, you don’t really care how they work. Suffice it to say they are smaller than gap between two cells in your body. Smaller than a bacterium, close to the size of a virus. Tiny.”
“Their creation has made the other breakthrough possible: a true brain to computer interface. We can monitor what someone is thinking and have the computer respond to that.” Here came the grin again, “Or /change/ that.”
“Pleasure Island will be our first large scale use of those nanobots. Everyone of you is expected to eventually be infected with them, and they will change you to become part of the island.”
“There are benefits. We expect to be able to stop most of the signs of aging for instance, though we are not sure we will actually be able to stop it. You will also be a test bed for the effects of the ‘bots in real life. Our scientists are looking forward to seeing the data from this venture.”
The face now relaxed, its owner obviously felt he had nothing more to fear. “The nanobots are in the water. All the drinkable liquid on the island harbors them. I’ll be back in a week to see how you are doing. Good luck!” At that the video cut out, and the lights came back on in the room.
There was about thirty seconds of absolute silence, then there was absolute chaos. Most of the ‘girls’ were on their feet, yelling to their absent captor, yelling to each other, or just yelling. Some ran out the door to catch the plane, only to return moments later saying it was gone.
Brianna stayed seated a moment longer, thinking. When the general chaos threatened to crush anyone not standing she finally stood. Making her way through the crowd she slowly approached the water coolers on the far wall.
Despite the press of the crowd there was a buffer around the tables. Brianna found herself out of the crowd, just looking at them. Great orange things, like you see in sports stadiums. She wondered idly how long they had been sitting there, and if the water was still cold. She wasn’t thirsty.
She took a cup from the top of the stack, turning it right side up under the spout and pressed the button, filling it with water. She could feel that it was indeed still cold: the cold seeped through the paper walls into her hands. Or was that her imagination?
“What are you doing!?” Brianna spun around at the voice, suddenly clutching the cup to her chest.
“You heard what the video said! Drinking that will turn you into some sort of... of... sex slave! Don’t drink it!” Brianna’s accuser pushed her way through the suddenly silent throng, stood waving her finger at Brianna, but obviously not willing to get to close to whatever was in that water herself.
“I heard the video. Maybe it will do something to me, but what are the choices? You heard what he said, he would be back in a week. A /week/. What do want to bet there is no way off this island until then? Can you go without water for a week? You’ll die before then.”
She raised the cup, looking through it as if she could see whatever was in the water through the cup, then shrugged and lowered it. “I don’t want to die. I doubt I could hold out long enough to die of dehydration even if I wanted to. So, the drink. He said it would change our minds, but we’ll live. Maybe it won’t work, after all he said this would be the test case. Even if it does, maybe I’ll be able to overcome it. Who knows? If it does work, I will probably enjoy it. No way to know.”
“Why should I torture myself just to delay the inevitable? Let’s see if it works as advertized.” She stopped and grinned at her adversary. “If nothing else, I’ll be able to let you know what is in store for you.” She caught the woman in one last glance, then gulped the cup down.
From the outside nothing happened for a long moment. Inside, Brianna felt like she had just been hit by lighting, softly. The water hit her throat directly from her gulp, and a shock went from that point of contact through her whole system. She knew she was changed, but at the moment couldn’t sort out exactly how.
“Oh, that hits hard. Wow.” Brianna closed her eyes a moment. “/Nice/. That feels really good.” She laughed. “You guys have no idea what is in store for you.” Her eyes did a slow survey of the shell-shocked room, her tongue rolling on the tips of her teeth. They ended up with her accuser, drinking in the look of pure shock on her face.
:Let’s give her something to be shocked about, shall we?: ran through her head as a thought. Hers, she knew, but the constraints were no longer hers. Deliberately she looked down at herself.
“Man! This is an uncomfortable outfit, what was I thinking? Better to just get it off.” And she proceeded to do just that, stripping down to her underwear in seconds flat. Despite it being an act, she did feel better without the staid professional outfit she had worn all day. She looked at it and knew she would never wear it again, and was glad of the thought.
She deliberately put a devil’s grin on her face and looked the woman facing her in the eye. “Better.”
The other woman came out of her shock and rushed forward, grabbing Brianna by the shoulders and shaking her. “Snap out of it!” Then she looked at her hands on Brianna’s bare arms and yelped, nearly leaping back.
Brianna laughed again, keeping her smile in place. “Don’t worry. I’m not infectious. At least,” she paused, deliberately leering, “not by /touch/.”
The crowd drew back again, and Brianna laughed again. She had the power here: the power of having been through what they dreaded, and coming out laughing. “That’s enough for now. You know what will be. I’ll wait until you join me.” Then she strode out of the room, the crowd parting like she wore a force shield.
She hadn’t known where she was going as she left the room, but her feet knew the way. Her head realized it a moment later: her rooms. She wound her way though the halls, downward into the heart of the complex that formed the heard of the resort. There, inside, was where she now belonged. At least at the moment.
She walked into them, the double doors swinging after her. The huge ornate bed dominated the center of the apartment, its cast iron posts bent into complicated and suggestive patterns. Off to the other side from where Brianna entered, behind the bed’s platform, stood a set of tall black doors that Brianna knew to be her closets. To her right as she entered was a small office, and to the left... She was looking forward to exploring what was behind that door.
She shed her underwear, and with it the last of her reservation about her new role in life. This was more than she ever dreamed, and the price... Paid. Willingly.
The bed covers were pure white, and she walked to the black cloth laid out on them, running her hands down the leather and plastic, loving the feel beneath her fingers. Behind her she heard footsteps.
She turned to face the interloper. There were four, girls who had decided to follow her example in the conference room. They stood at rigid attention, still fully clothed. Brianna shook her head.
“Mistress?” The first asked. It was both a statement of their place and a question to their status.
Brianna decided to answer a different question. “Get rid of that stuff!” She gestured to their clothes, and nodded in approval as they shed it as fast as they could. Much better. Her girls shouldn’t hide themselves behind some bits of cloth.
She continued her inspection now that she could properly see her subjects. Not bad. All four were fit, their muscles toned and tight. Their tans needed work: to many lines. But that would be corrected. Better yet all were in their correct positions of obedience: feet shoulder width apart, hands by their sides, tummy in, chest out, head up, eyes down. Very good. She turned back to her new outfit.
Start with the dress. Brianna slipped it on so that it sat with the cups just supporting her breasts, barely covering her nipples with the soft leather. A quick command had two of the girls tightening the built in corset till she was starting to have trouble breathing. Next came the boots, which ended just above her knees. A moment’s thought had Brianna order the girls to put them on her, though she could have put them on herself. Last were her gloves, which went nearly to her shoulders. These she put on herself.
Brianna took a moment to see the effect the outfit had on her. The mirror showed the story: black leather covered her top to bottom, ending just above her nipples and just below her crotch. The gloves and boots followed the curves of her arms and legs, while the corset emphasized the curves of her body. She stopped a moment, realizing she was completely shaven from the neck down, and noticing the new tone in her muscles, the computer in her brain told her this was standard to the island. She smiled.
Her servants were back in line, now dressed only in high heels which they had found for themselves. Good. Brianna set two on guard outside her door, then led the others to the unopened door from her chambers.
Pleasure Island’s manager had a dungeon to break in.