The Club on Dorado Cay
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by Aubrey Wylde
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Only three kinds of people know of the existence of the Club on Dorado Cay: the very, very rich who maintain it as their private playground, the dedicated staff who run the establishment, and young, beautiful, unfortunate women like Kris and Alyx who find themselves abducted to become the playthings of sadistic masters. Never in their wildest imaginations could they conceive of the twisted scenes acted out on the remote island. Faced with life as tortured and abused toys their only thought now is of how to escape
eBook Publisher: Fiction4All/Fiction4All: FetishWorld,
eBookwise Release Date: February 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [229 KB]
Reading time: 150-210 min.
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The rich, as F. Scott Fitzgerald noted, are not like you and me. As Hemingway famously replied, "Yeah, they have money." But it's not just money that sets them apart, though possessing large amounts of money is a prerequisite for engaging in the sort of activities which truly set the wealthy apart from the rest of us. Flying privately owned jets, for example, or owning plush vacation homes at ski resorts on multiple continents. Or belonging to the Club on Dorado Cay, for instance.
Not many people, not even many quite wealthy people, know of the existence of the Club on Dorado Cay. It has no existence in the public consciousness or the public record. It has no name other than that informal phrase which its members use to refer to it. "The Club on Dorado Cay." Or simply, "Dorado Cay."
A very select clientele form the membership. A small group of dedicated employees, many of them children or grandchildren of older employees, comprise the very discreet staff. A very small number of highly paid lawyers watch out for its legal requirements and a few well placed, and also well compensated, government officials look after its interests.
Of the general public virtually no one knows of its existence, except for a very, very few unfortunate individuals such as the one we shall refer to as "Alyx". We'll call her that because that's the name she gave herself as one of her earlier acts of rebellion. Her parents gave her Alyssia. But she decided she would be called Alyx.
On the evening when her unwilling journey to the Club on Dorado Cay began Alyx had come back to one of her favorite liquor shops, in one of the seedier parts of town. It was not one of her favorites because she could buy there. She'd tried it, several times, and despite the disreputable appearance of the place and her phony I.D. card they hadn't wanted to take her money. She was half-way through nineteen but still looked maybe sixteen and too many of the stores in the area had been burned by sting operations to want to risk an underage sale. But that didn't mean there weren't others around to assist her.
The clientele of the store were mostly pretty grungy looking characters, the kind of people who go out to a liquor store at 1 or 2 am, and they weren't usually so fussy about breaking the liquor laws, especially for a cute young thing like Alyx. She knew it was dangerous, trying to score a bottle in this part of town this late at night, but she figured she could take care of herself. She'd already had to punch a couple drunks who wanted more than money for a bottle of peppermint schnapps and she thought she'd developed a good sense now for who to ask and who to avoid. So she wasn't too worried when she approached a likely prospect, a decent looking guy dressed better than most and made her pitch. But he surprised her.
"Christ, are you kidding me?" he said in a loud voice. "Buy you booze? Get on home before I paddle your ass. Don't you have school tomorrow or something?"
But then he said in whisper "Meet me around the corner. Peppermint Schnapps was it?" He winked at her.
She nodded and took off for the corner. Clever guy, she thought. Do the transaction away from the prying eyes of the liquor store clerk. She walked slowly, trying to look natural in case the clerk was watching, around the corner. Once in the shadows of the alley she waited. A pity it wasn't this easy every time she tried to buy a bottle.
Minutes later he came around the corner carrying a brown paper bag. Seeing her he smiled and pulled the bottle out part way, showed it to her, then dropped it back into the bag and handed it to her.
"Thanks," Alyx said. "How much do I owe you?"
"I was thinking," he said, "we might barter for it."
Uh, oh, she thought. Here it comes. Just another dirty old man. She briefly weighed the idea of turning and running down the alley. But he might catch her. He looked to be in much better shape than the usual dirty old bastards who wanted to get into her pants. He also looked like he could get mean if he wanted to. Better to find out just what he was thinking first. Maybe she could bargain him down to a blowjob. It wouldn't be the first.
"So, whatcha thinkin'?" she asked, trying to sound cool.
"Oh, nothing much, really," he said. "I'm pretty much an ass man, myself. I couldn't help noticing how well you fill out your jeans. In back there. Just fantastic. So here's my deal. I give you the bottle. You slip those jeans down just enough that I can get a good look at those beautiful buns of yours." He paused for a moment. "And you let me stroke them. Just a coupla strokes. I just love the feel of a beautiful young lady's silky smooth ass. Whaddaya say?"
Alyx thought about it. Takes all kinds, and as far as pervs went this guy was nothing. And she was always short of cash. So what the heck. She turned her back to him and started to loosen her belt.
"Sounds like a deal, mister."
She lowered her jeans until she felt the belt slip under the curve of her buttocks. She bent forward slightly, pushing her butt towards the man.
"Oh, God, that's a beautiful pair of buns you've got. Just absolutely fucking beautiful!"
He paused. She heard his breath coming faster. Was he jerking off, she wondered.
"OK, don't be startled, but I'm going to touch them now."
She felt his hand brushing her right butt cheek. And then she felt a sharp prick, like a hypodermic needle.
"What the fu..." she yelped, jerking upright. She turned to face the son of a bitch, to see what he'd done, but her legs started to collapse beneath her. Her eyes started to lose their focus. The last thing she heard before she passed out was the sound of breaking glass as the bottle of peppermint schnapps shattered on the pavement.
The next thing Alyx knew she seemed to be in a sitting position. Her arms seemed to be up over her head, but she couldn't think why they should be. Her upper body seemed to be swaying slightly forwards and back. She raised her head and opened her eyes. They didn't seem to want to focus.
"She's coming round." Alyx heard a voice say.
"Good," another voice, husky but still feminine, said. "Raise her up."
Alyx felt a pull on her wrists and then she was being lifted up by her arms. She tried to struggle onto her feet but she was still too shaky. As her head started to clear she remembered that prick on her butt. The bastard had drugged her! At first she was angry. But then she started getting scared. What were they going to do to her?
She was on her feet, wobbling and swaying, and she felt the tugging stop. She was almost off the floor, the balls of her feet just touching a cold floor. She was barefoot. They'd taken her shoes off. Then with a start she realized that not just her shoes were gone. She had been stripped naked. Instinctively she tried to pull her legs up, to cross one leg over to shield her sex, but her ankles were fastened to the floor.
"OK, let's see what we've got here."
Her eyes were focusing now and what she saw really pissed her off. The sonuvabitch who had drugged her was at the far side of the room, a room that looked like it was garage or workshop of some sort. He had his hand on the crank handle of a winch and a smirk on his face. The cable that came off the spool of the winch went straight for the ceiling above her. Even with her still foggy brain Alyx could figure out the connection.
"Let me down, you asshole!" she screamed.
A second later she was seeing stars and the left side of her face was stinging from a hard slap administered by an unseen person.
"Quiet, or you'll get even worse, my pet," a voice said. It was the feminine voice, one that seemed most likely to go with an older woman, especially a woman who worked as a teacher in an inner city school or matron in a facility for hard cases. It was that sort of no nonsense permitted voice. Alyx, surprised and a bit intimidated, complied, letting herself hang limply.
"That's better, my dear," the voice said. "Yes, this one looks quite promising."
Hands traced the outline of Alyx's body, felt the muscles of her legs and arms. Alyx gasped slightly as they felt her buttocks, spreading her cheeks as if her anus were being inspected. They reached around to feel her breasts, lifting, then squeezing, then pulling on her nipples.
The examiner then stepped around where Alyx could see her. She matched her voice, an older woman, dark gray flecked hair done in a short pageboy style. She was a bit shorter than Alyx but stockier. Something in the way she moved, the way she handled herself, told Alyx that beneath the conservatively cut business suit was a body that was solid and well toned.
The woman's eyes traveled up and down Alyx's hanging form. It made Alyx uncomfortable and she tried to look away, but the woman grasped Alyx under the chin and looked her directly in the eye, then turned her head left and right.
"Very nice face. The black hair cut short like that sets off her fair complexion nicely. Young looking, but very sexual. Her eyes show spirit. That's good."
The woman's hands fondled Alyx's breasts again.
"Oh, these are lovely," she said. "Don't you just love the way they stand out, so proud. No sag at all. Did you ever read Orwell's '1984', Albert?"
"No, can't say I have," the man replied. He was obviously Albert, as there appeared to be no one else in the room.
"Read it many, many years ago," the woman said. "One phrase stuck in my mind. The main character embraces his girlfriend. He feels her breasts through the fabric of her blouse. They feel 'firm yet ripe' to him. That phrase has always stuck with me. And it describes our little friend here. These breasts are firm yet ripe."
She released Alyx's breasts and reached into a pocket of her suit. She brought out a pair of latex gloves and put them on. Then the woman knelt down and spread Alyx's sex, gently exposing her inner secrets.
"Not a virgin, of course," she said, "but then who is anymore. Still, very nice, neat. Very attractive little flower here."
She retracted the clitoral hood, exposing the little pink nubbin. Deftly she began to lightly tease the sensitive organ with just the tip of her finger. In spite of herself, in spite of the situation Alyx began to react to the unwanted attention, a fact not lost on the woman.
"Excellent," she said. "A good, strong libido. Just what we like."
She stood up, peeling off the gloves.
"Yes, just delightful," she said. "I must hand it to you, Albert. You're a fine judge of horseflesh. Or should I say girlflesh. She'll do just fine. I believe we have a deal."
Good God! Alyx thought. She was being sold.
"I knew we would the first time I saw her," Albert replied.
Alyx took a good look at the man's face. She remembered now. Several times in the last month she'd had the feeling someone was following her. It had been him. He'd dressed very differently each time. Worn sunglasses, hats, baseball caps to disguise his face. But she'd had enough glimpses of him that now it all fit together. The son of a bitch had been stalking her. Why she hadn't recognized him outside the liquor shop baffled her. In too much of a hurry to get a buzz on, she guessed.
The woman stepped back, reached inside her suit jacket and withdrew a manila envelope. She walked to Albert and handed it too him. He took it, opened it and pulled out a stack of bills. He counted them quickly.
"Bingo," he said. "Right on the mark. Always a pleasure doing business with the Club."
He pocketed the cash.
"And now I can collect the rest of my finder's fee?" Albert asked.
"Yes, but mind you, don't damage the goods."
"You know me, Syl," Albert replied. "I'll be gentle." He laughed, a repulsive snorting sort of laugh and approached Alyx. He bent down next to Alyx's right leg and unfastened the tie. He was careful to position himself where she couldn't easily kick at him. Then he went around to her left and undid the other leg. Having freed her legs the man now stood in front of her, a safe distance away of course. He began to remove his belt. His face had taken on an evil grin.
Crap! Alyx though to herself. He's going to rape me. She'd experienced a couple situations during her partying that might, in the most literal sense, be considered rape. She didn't like it, more for the loss of control she felt than anything else. Alyx liked to think she was in control of her little world and right now it was very clear she wasn't.
But instead of dropping his pants Albert doubled the leather belt in one hand and began slapping the loop thus formed against the other hand. He stepped closer to Alyx. Seeing where his eyes were focused she suddenly realized what he had in mind.
"No!"She screamed, "Not..."
But before she could get the words out the belt was slicing through the air and impacting against her left breast. Albert wound up again while Alyx was still screaming and delivered a similar blow to the right breast. Then he walked around behind her. She braced herself.
The blows came fast and hard against her butt cheeks. Alyx's arched her body forward to try to escape the bite of the leather. Her legs began to flail in the air in a mindless, wild effort to escape. She was grateful when she heard the woman say "Ok, Albert, that's enough."
"Just one more," Albert said.
He walked around in front of Alyx. She watched him with dread, her ass still throbbing from the beating he'd given it.
He stepped off seven or eight feet in front of her. He let the tip of the belt drop, holding it just below the buckle. He began to swing it slowly back and forth, then a little faster and a little faster. Then suddenly the tip of the belt was lashing out for her like a deadly brown snake, sinking its fangs into her mound just above her slit. In reaction she thrust her ass backwards, away from the pain. As she did so she felt a prick on her left buttock. She barely had time to realize what had been done when all faded to blackness.