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Paradise Isle, The Beginning
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. It is a story of sexual fantasies and fetishes. These sexual practices are not for everyone, but those of us who delve into them understand the allure. The characters in the story certainly do. If you enjoy this story and the fetishes involved, great. If not, please forget the whole thing.
Author’s note: This story opens a door into a series of tales, all based on the ‘sexcapades’ that occur at a tropical paradise that specializes in, and caters to, all sexual tastes.
In part, it’s a prequel, but most of it is an introduction to the types of stories to follow.
I hope it fuels your imagination and wets your appetite.
Several tales, based on the wonders of the island are on the way…
His Excellency, Hernando Calibri had been Gran Roque island’s governor for eight years. And it had been a successful position and a happy one. His island, and under the region’s usual political conditions it was for all intents and purposes his, is a tropical paradise, in the Southern Caribbean.
For many of those years, it drew vacationers from all over North, Central and South America. Wealthy people looking for the best of everything. And that’s what he and his island provided. Unlike his competitors, though, his island wasn’t part of the Bahamas, or the Virgin Islands, or associated with the collection of independent island-nations in the Southern Caribbean.
By some colonial quirk, it belonged to the nearby mainland nation run by Hernando’s uncle. And his revered relative had always left him, and his island alone to prosper in peace. And Governor Calibri’s annual profit-sharing payment directly into his uncle’s personal bank account ensured that relationship.
But, much to his horror, it was now failing spectacularly. His uncle’s government was falling apart. The whole mainland was tearing itself apart, and although it wasn’t affecting the island directly, it was causing it to wither on the vine.
Visitors, who had to travel through the capital to catch the only ferry to his island stopped coming. Not only because of safety concerns, but also because of a growing, world-wide disgust over the politics of the mainland.
It caused the happy island’s once-lucrative tourist-based economy to collapse.
Until the troubles, their laws were loose and flexible, and island life was easy and enjoyable.
Three huge luxury resort complexes were successful and happy places. Loaded with wealthy guests spending huge sums of money on the beauty and restful environment of their little slice of paradise.
Small towns spread around the interior and the small harbor housed the populace. Resort staffers and fishermen were the two largest groups, but there were also farmers and administrators and a fair number of comfortable retirees scattered about.
The residents were all relatively well off and therefore happy. Especially when compared to their countrymen on the mainland, they did very well for themselves.
Life was comfortable for residents and visitors, alike.
The guest taxes were, for the most part, reinvested in the island’s infrastructure and it therefore enjoyed some of the best facilities in the Caribbean.
But the governor could see that now, as he watched, everything was falling apart.
For the last few months, while Hernando watched everything crumble, he had wracked his brain to find a way to turn it all around. The nation’s new rulers, who struggled to rebuild after they threw his uncle out, had so many other challenges to worry about, that they left him alone, ignoring the needs of his insignificant little enclave, sitting far off their coast, in the middle of the ocean. And his people had been happy enough under his leadership that they too left him alone, trusting him to return the island to prosperity, somehow.
Although, at that very moment, he felt he was running out of time. As local life slowly deteriorated, his people began to demand that he fix things, somehow.
He was laying with one of the once high demand hookers, when the thought struck him like a gift from the heavens. The sex trade was one of the few businesses left, that made money. Some small number of turistas were still willing to brave the travel challenges to his island to enjoy that particular industry. He still saw yachts crowding the docks to invite the island’s best hookers on-board for a day or two, before sailing away, and taking their money with them.
That, he decided would be the answer to his problems.
It took almost a year to create ‘Paradise Island’. He congratulated himself for having the foresight to not deliver the last happy year’s profit-sharing payment to his uncle per the time-honored schedule. A fortuitous sixth sense had whispered in his ear the advice to hold off until his uncle stabilized his government. Anadolu Yakası Escort Of course, that hadn’t happened. So, he had, painfully, pulled those many millions out of the off-shore banks and used them to finance his plan.
And it actually looked like it was going to work! Thank the Gods…
He had, with consummate salesmanship, convinced the local leaders and several groups of investors, including the three well-hidden, off-shore corporations who owned the resorts, to declare his island, ‘the sex capital of the Caribbean’. That’s what all of the advertising said, anyway.
As Disneyland was to children, and Las Vegas was to gamblers, the island of Gran Roque would be to wealthy adults who cherished sex. And all adults cherished sex, didn’t they?
Gran Roque became ‘Paradise Island’ in an advertising campaign that spanned the wealthier communities of the Americas.
And that was a key aspect of the plan. The three resorts of his island would be rebranded as luxury facilities for the sophisticated and well-to-do adults, primarily couples, who desired to vacation comfortably, in an environment where sexual activity was the focus of their fun.
Hernando had also succeeded, with the help of enthusiastic investors, in convincing the closest independent island’s government to shift the ferry to haul visitors from their airport. They were, of course, pleased with the additional traffic, not to mention the offer of periodic visits to his paradise.
With great fanfare and enthusiastic press coverage, Governor Calibri declared the island a consensual free sex zone. Every aspect of human sexuality would be welcome. All orientations, fantasies and fetishes would be supported.
Well, actually not ‘all’, he often clarified. For his own, his people’s and his guests’ safety, security and sensitivities, some behaviors would be forbidden or regulated by his government, and his strong and unforgiving police force. Instances of abuse, rape and physical assault, as well as a few other truly heinous acts, were strictly prohibited, and mercilessly punished. But that list was small, compared to everything else that was to be supported and provided.
Privacy was also declared to be an absolute priority. Without exception, what occurred on the island stayed on the island. All of the island’s residents and staff understand the need for privacy and secrecy. They’re all motivated by the lifestyle they’re able to maintain and the money they earn, on their cozy and happy home island.
As part of that doctrine, photographs and recordings were strictly prohibited. Only staff would be allowed and available to carefully document the festivities.
During the rebuilding and rebranding year, all three resorts were extensively refurbished. Already high-end facilities, they became even more exclusive, beautiful and comfortable.
The resorts’ spas were expanded and upgraded as well. And within the resorts, unique classes of suites were added to accommodate guests with a broad range of sexual proclivities.
One of the resorts, in particular, underwent major changes, as it had been flagged as the ‘Fetish Resort’, or ‘Fet Resort’, for short. It would cater, specifically, to the kinkier aspects of its special class of clients. The suites there were upgraded, and new ones added and equipped with unique furnishings and facilities to satisfy most any fetish or fantasy.
Hernando’s head whirled when he thought about the things the designers planned and installed in that place! But it also made his blood flow and his cock harden when he considered the possibilities.
The already competent island hospital also received considerable expansion. An entire new wing was added to specialize in plastic surgery and any other classes of treatments that their sexually oriented clients might request.
Highly qualified doctors from all over the world, were recruited, as were other medical specialists, to staff the clinic. The island’s unique environment was an excellent recruiting tool.
With them, the most advanced technologies were implemented, not just American medicine, but also Chinese, Japanese, Indian, and European medicinal and surgical wonders were all established. They would provide visitors and patients with only the best, most advanced and most efficient of treatments.
In addition to the ‘standard’ advertising programs, targeting all red-blooded humans, specific campaigns were initiated for the BDSM, Swingers, Nudists, and LGBTQ communities, as well as any adventurous clientele with no inhibitions.
A delicately presented program was also published that explained that consensual sexual slavery would not only be accepted, but supported. Facilities, services and training will be offered by experienced staff, to practitioners of that obsession. It would be made available to practicing slaves and masters or mistresses. And for a fee, staff services could be rented. Temporary and long-term accommodations would be available. Including slave quarters and slave boarding services.
The Governor worked with his supervisors to ensure that all visitors would be well managed.
All guests will be required to submit to airport-security level searches upon arrival. Without exception, visitors would be required to turn in all of their electronics, and be issued personal, island-only cell phones, good for calls on the island as well as international calls in and out. But no cameras would be included in the devices. Guests who refused to comply would simply be turned away, forfeiting their deposits.
In addition, each guest will be provided with a wrist bracelet that they are required to wear at all times. They include a tracking component that allows them to be identified and located, wherever they may roam. It’s treated as a safety and security item, and is not an option.
The waterproof bands are also color coded to indicate and differentiate between staff and visitor, as well as the guest’s resort and package or program.
Hernando, pleased with all that he had built, and with all of the revitalization projects nearing completion, gave the word for the marketing and sales campaigns shift into high gear.
And then he sat back and prayed that his vision would be realized.
It took several months for word to spread, and for guests to begin arriving in large numbers. But they did begin to fill the suites at the resorts, both at the two ‘vanilla’ facilities as well as in the Fet Resort.
The Governor, the investors and the entire population of Gran Roque began to breathe again. Money began to once again roll in, as the resorts began to fill.
From the start, nearly all of the visitors were wealthy – they had to be to afford the rates charged by the Island, and they found themselves enchanted buy the island’s beauty, and the erotic lifestyle they were able to enjoy there.
Some of the richest visitors, were so enthralled that they begin supporting the island in other, more subtle ways. Most importantly, they encouraged their home governments to honor the Island’s sovereignty, and back the legal and political battles required to sustain it.
Hernando’s accountants were pleasantly surprised, as was he, when the new clinic quickly became surprisingly popular, as its reputation for accelerated, state-of the art and successful operations grew. The business unit and its offerings actually became a fourth profit center, with earnings comparable to the resorts, themselves.
As planned, the clinic’s procedures, and fees ranged from the relatively trivial, to very extensive and exotic, some requiring long stays at the clinic and more comfortable recovery at the hotels.
Many guests began arriving, solely for standard medical procedures like face lifts, breast implants, liposuction, etc. And some even come for sexual reassignment, transformations.
The Governor continued to be concerned with and therefore took particular interest in the participating guests and the services provided for the island’s sex slave programs. He was concerned over the possibility for abuse, as well as the trouble and bad publicity that those often disparaged and sometimes crude lifestyles might generate.
The mandates for that program were stricter than for any other.
Island staff were trained to treat all guests, owners and slaves, carefully and appropriately. Staff would never mistreat a slave, unless it was part of their role, as trainers, or required to maintain the law (police.)
The only rule, strictly enforced, prohibited the physical abuse of a slave to the point where it drew blood or otherwise caused needed hospitalization. In such cases, criminal proceedings were seriously considered.
Abusive owners, would be delt with severely. And they were all warned constantly. Penalties include banishment, imprisonment, or death. All punishments to be imposed quickly and without mercy, by the island’s own court and the Governor himself.
Only a few months after their grand reopening, an overjoyed Governor Calibri concluded that his plans had been a brilliant success. And his constituents, the residents saw it too. As did the guests who arrived curious and excited, and left after their stays, feeling satiated and promising to return.
Visiting Paradise – first time guests.
They had fallen in love at the university, and had already taken up residence together before graduation. Married soon after graduation, they moved to the big city and found jobs in marketing at a couple of large companies headquartered, there.
The pair worked hard for six years, long and hard, establishing their careers, and expanding their salaries, until one-day, it struck them almost simultaneously, that they badly needed to take a break from their personal rat race. A long and relaxing vacation, away from the stress of life and work was needed.
Although their work lives and finances were in fine shape, their relationship was in a shambles. They had forgotten what their love was once like. They hadn’t truly enjoyed sex in ages.
Stacy and Matt had abundant funds, plenty of accrued vacation and no kids or family to worry about. So, they declared to their respective bosses that they’d be taking a vacation in May of that year.
It was Stacy who discovered the reviews posted about the resort complex at Paradise Island. It had opened a year ago and its advertising showed beautiful facilities, sunny beaches, excellent food, alcohol and activities, and perhaps most interesting of all, abundant sex.
Exactly what they wanted, and desperately needed.
And the reviews of the place were fascinating. Every one of them awarded five stars for the lovely island. And every one of them mentioned, quite prominently, the sex. Sex of all types and persuasions.
Neither Stacy, nor Matt were particularly kinky. They’d never identified any fetishes that they might fantasize about in their most private of dreams. They were conservative, even dull, and had in their early years together received all of the pleasure they ever wanted out of straight sex. But lately, nothing they did was satisfying.
They both felt it was absolutely imperative for their mental and physical health, and for their relationship, that they rekindle their passion.
Stacy handled all of the arrangements, only going to her husband for final approvals. It would be an expensive trip, and they didn’t spend thousands without consulting with each other, first. And Matt was fine with that, he was having a hard time breaking away from his work.
They wound up with a full week’s stay in paradise, two days would be spent just traveling, so they didn’t count. And they’d take several days off at home afterwards, to recover and relax.
“We’ll be exhausted and sun burned, and hopefully revitalized when we get back.” She had commented, after they did one final review of the plan.
It was two months later when they finally boarded the plane for the first leg of their journey. The island wasn’t the easiest place to get to, but they were excited, and so looking forward to the vacation, as well as the high hopes for a better relationship, that it didn’t matter.
It had taken a lot of effort to get to that point. Not just freeing themselves from their projects at work. The visa process and the paperwork the resort demanded, had been laborious and, they thought, insanely detailed and intrusive. But they’d worked their way through it together, and even that helped them reconnect as a pair.
The two of them were worn and relieved when they finally made it to the island. It had required two tedious flights, and a lengthy ferry ride as well as a seriously bureaucratic processing on the docks.
Once on the island itself, they’d submitted to yet another paperwork review, a search of their luggage and themselves and the confiscation, for return upon departure, of all their electronics. Matt, in particular hadn’t been please by that requirement.
“Relax, honey, we’re here for each other, and everything else can wait.” Stacy said to calm him.
Finally, they’d been issued their island cell phones, and their wrist bands.
The wrist bands were apparently an important indicator of their visitor status.
Both Stacy and Matt were issued white bands, which were fastened onto their left wrists, not to be removed until their departure.
They were offered silver or gold bracelets for their right arms, but declined, uncomfortable with the concept. Wearers of the silver bracelet were signaling that they were open to sex with other, heterosexual guests. While people with gold bracelets were open to sex with anyone. Those indicators weren’t right for them, but they were an indication of the philosophies that at least some of the guests were going for.
Matt spotted a list of band colors and was able to scan partway down the document, before he moved along to the next processing station.
“Wow,” he said to Stacy, “did you see the list of bracelet colors?”
“No. What about them?”
“Well, there was a chart on the counter. Tan bracelets are for staff. White for standard guests, like us and Black bands are for that fetish resort.”
“Okay.” Unimpressed. Those categories made perfect sense, but they didn’t interest her.
“But there were many more. I only saw some of them, but they sounded very kinky.” He said grinning lewdly.”
“Like what?” She asked, casually. Not all that interested. She was tired and anxious to get to their suite.
“I saw, Turquoise for Mermaid Package, green for Nudist Package, brown for Pet Package, pink for Bimbo Package, orange for Femininization Package and red for Submissive or Slave. There were others but I didn’t see or can’t remember.”
“I’m surprised you remember those.”
“But don’t they sound kinky? I mean Bimbo and Slave and Pet?”
“We saw that they offered special packages, on the web site, so what’s the big deal?”
“But they all sound so sexy!”
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