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The strong, sweet scent of climbing jasmine mingled with the salty tang in the air. Abbie chattered nonstop as she showed Kendra the pool, the beach bar and cabana and the nature trails, pride in the island beaming from her like rays of sunshine.
“This place is really gorgeous,” Kendra enthused. “Even without the BDSM, I can see why you enjoy living and working here so much.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Kenny. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do.” Abbie pulled the cart into the circular driveway in front of the main building. They entered the lobby, where some of the new arrivals were clustered around the reception desk staffed by a petite woman with short blond hair and a shy, engaging smile.
Kendra looked around the lobby in awe. “Holy crap, Abbie,” she said, taking in the St. Andrew’s cross and the whip display hung along one wall. “This is awesome.”
Abbie laughed. “This is nothing, babe. Wait’ll I give you the grand tour of our BDSM facilities. And then there are the nightly play parties. And we have these super fun slave auctions twice a week. But the really special thing about this place is the professional training that goes on. Desire Island is way more than just a hedonistic playground for kinksters. We offer intensive one-on-one slave training packages and we just recently brought a new guy onboard who trains Doms and couples with a focus on risk-aware consensual kink.”
Kendra laughed. “Okay, okay, cousin. Stop with the hard sell. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are,” Abbie cried, throwing her arm over Kendra’s shoulders. “I’m so happy you finally made it. And that”—she paused, her face again scrunching with compassion— “you’ve been able to put what happened behind you.”
“Yesterday’s news, babe,” Kendra assured her with a dismissive wave. Abbie was the only one of the family in whom Kendra had confided, though she’d downplayed the details, not wanting to freak out her cousin or to admit how stupid she’d been to let it happen.
Abbie shook her head with evident admiration. “You always were so kickass cool, Kendra, even when we were kids. Remember when that bully, Doug Farley, kept tormenting me on the way home from middle school? You were like a foot shorter and thirty pounds lighter than he was, but that didn’t stop you from grabbing him by the nuts and telling him if he ever bothered your cousin again, you’d rip them off and shove them down his throat.”
Kendra laughed. “Once you stand up to the bullies, they usually run off with their tail between their legs.”
If you get the chance to stand up, that is…
As the new arrivals had headed for the elevators, Abbie introduced Maya, the girl behind the receptionist counter. Her slave collar, Kendra noticed, was different than Abbie’s or Tommy’s. It was made of a wider band of leather that looked soft as butter, a pink ceramic heart hanging from the O-ring at its center.
“This is Maya,” Abbie said. “Maya, meet my cousin, Kendra.”
After they exchanged greetings, Abbie said, “Maya belongs to Mistress Ella.” She didn’t try to conceal the longing in her tone.
Maya beamed, radiating that sweet serenity Kendra had seen from time to time in submissives heavily into the scene.
“You always were such a romantic,” Kendra replied indulgently. “I hope your Master Right claims you one day, Abbie, just like you want.”
“You, on the other hand,” Abbie teased, “are way too bossy to ever let anyone claim you.”
“You got that right,” Kendra replied with a snort.
Abbie grabbed her hand. “Come on back to the slave quarters and then I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Slave quarters? That doesn’t sound too inviting. I’m visualizing bleak log cabins with straw mattresses on the floor.”
“Not hardly,” Abbie laughed. “Wait’ll you see. Your room is right next to mine. Each room is equipped with its own St. Andrew’s cross. How cool is that? I got special permission from Mistress Ella for you to stay there, even though you’re not technically a staff slave or trainee.” She flashed a grin. “It pays to have connections.”
Abbie hadn’t been exaggerating about Desire Island being a BDSM lover’s dream. There was a top rate play dungeon, and just beyond it an awesome water room complete with submersion tanks, a water torture wall and an electric fucking machine that Abbie said was, “guaranteed to blow your fucking mind.”
The second floor was as exciting as the first, with room after room filled with impact toys and BDSM equipment to satisfy every possible kink. “The top three floors are where the guests and Masters stay,” Abbie explained.
“There are a few nonresident workers who are ferried here every day. One of the questions during their interview is, ‘Are you comfortable with nudity among the guests and trainees?’ Abbie told her with a grin. “Another is, ‘Do you regard BDSM as a healthy, natural expression of some people’s sexuality?’ The interview process does a great job of weeding out applicants who would freak at our lifestyle. Everyone on the island is either into the scene or sympathetic and nonjudgmental about it. Makes it a really great place to live and work.
