Island Royale: The Report (Chapter Six)


Greg had warned me that Alexis was on a “pretty tight schedule,” and so the next morning, after having only fucked the cute little fourteen-year-old a couple of more times, I dismissed Anya from my quarters, showered, and arrived at Alexis’ apartment – actually a pair of rooms much like the Guests’ quarters – promptly at 10:00 a.m. Alexis greeted me pleasantly, dressed in a standard light blue robe, but I could see the man was still suffering somewhat from jet lag.

He invited me inside and led me to a small round table stocked with a teapot, a few cups, some breads and a large bowl of assorted fresh fruit. As I was setting up my recording equipment I commented that he still looked a bit tired and offered to reschedule the interview for another time. Suddenly Alexis raised his hand and cut me off in mid-sentence.

“Let’s wait a bit, shall we?” he said softly. Then, much louder: “Inga!”

A tall beautiful blonde with large, luscious breasts and long shapely legs, wearing nothing but a short pleated skirt, emerged quietly from the adjacent bedroom and strolled to Alexis’ side. With a wink to me, he lifted her skirt and exposed her sex, hairless but for a small cream-colored tuft just above her slit. Holding the hem of her skirt with his right hand, Alexis plunged his left middle finger deep into Inga’s pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from the girl as she staggered slightly. He continued to finger-fuck the young woman for a couple of more minutes while she obediently stood there before us, her arm resting on his shoulder as she gazed silently out the window, but then he suddenly withdrew his hand and ordered her from his suite.

“Thank You, Master,” Inga responded politely and, with a slight nod of her head, she turned and left the apartment. “I didn’t want the gash to overhear us,” explained Alexis after the door had closed. “We’d only have confused the hell out of her.

“Would you like some tea?”

Alexis has been associated with Island Royale for many years, and had become a partner long before the brothel had relocated to the South Seas. A Russian by birth – as I had suspected from his accent – Alexis had been a highly successful slave trafficker operating principally in the Balkans, supplying abducted nubile European women to numerous bordellos and private harems in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and other Arab states, when John-Boy first met and had offered for sale to him a number of women the West African resort had decided to discard.

In the course of their discussions John-Boy outlined the needs of the Nursery and, although Alexis generally marketed much older females than those of interest to the resort, the Russian nonetheless soon delivered over two dozen very young and attractive European girls, age 4-5 years, along with the promise of more to follow upon request. With his vast knowledge of the white slavery business and his established connections to countless other “wholesale” and “retail” merchants of female flesh, it did not take the other Partners long to recognize Alexis’ value to their organization, and when John-Boy grew weary of the travel associated with supplying the resort young girls from both Asia and Europe, Alexis was brought in as a full partner to oversee European operations. He has been a prolific contributor: Well over two-thirds of the sexually mature females available for use in the Island Royale Compound are Caucasian, a testament to the Russian’s cunning, acumen, and enthusiasm for the sex slave industry.

Alexis indeed appears to thoroughly enjoy in particular the excitement and challenges of acquiring young girls for assignment to Island Royale, and he assured me he has no desire to adopt Greg’s decidedly more sedentary lifestyle. As Alexis put it: “Running this place would drive me crazy. What’s the American cliché? [Island Royale] is a great place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here.”

Smuggling young female children out of their native lands involves many risks, of course. Over the years Alexis has been severely beaten on several occasions and has even been shot once. He has also been arrested numerous times by law enforcement agencies in various countries – including twice in the United States – but thus far he has never been detained by the authorities for more than five days. Island Royale Management possesses exceptionally powerful friends and allies, and a well-placed telephone call to a high-ranking government official will usually secure Alexis’ release within but a few hours of his arrest, although occasionally – most notably about eight years ago when the Russian had been detained in Denmark on human trafficking charges – it may take a bit longer. Despite his many arrests, however, Alexis has never been formally charged with any crime and he says with a mischievous grin: “You’d be hard pressed to even find a police report with my name on it.”

After setting up my recording equipment and over a cup of strong English breakfast tea I began my interview with an inquiry concerning the logistics involved in procuring young females to serve as sex slaves at Island Royale.

* * * * * * * *

Question: You still look pretty tired. Is it because of Inga, or just the jet lag?

Answer: (Laughing) Probably a combination of both. But let’s see. At this time yesterday I was just getting in to Costa Rica. A week ago I was in Odessa, and two weeks before that, Budapest and Prague.

I do get around quite a bit.

Q: Which leads me to my question: Where do you find these young girls?

A: It’s not really all that hard for me anymore.

Years ago, before I joined the organization, John-Boy would often have to either steal the kids himself or deal directly with their kidnappers, negotiating a girl’s purchase price and so on. But now, actual acquisition for the both of us is largely left up to our wide network of brokers.

These brokers will collect the girls for us and pay the abductors themselves. We in turn will swap some sexually mature, fully trained female culls from the resort for the broker’s stash of baby pussy. The brokers make their profit when they later sell those women to whoever wants them.

Q: Brothel owners?

A: Yeah, most of ‘em wind up in a whorehouse somewhere. But a surprising number of men, especially in the Arab countries, buy the women for their own personal use and for the use of their friends. Frankly, I’d get bored fucking the same bitch every day, but some of these guys keep a harem of eighty or more women to choose from, so I guess that’s not a problem for them.

Q: So you’re saying no money is actually exchanged between you and the slave brokers?

A: Certainly not when we simply trade in a couple or more of our culled females for a new crop of baby pussy. But as the Nursery girls take their place in the Compound, we’re constantly having to make room for them by getting rid of the older staff. We’re the ones receiving money from the brokers. I’ll ship back a couple of dozen cunts, maybe swap a few for a bunch of little girls, and receive cash for the rest of ‘em.

(Smiling) It more than covers my travel expenses.

You must understand, our women are highly prized in the sex slave industry. Think about it: They’re spayed, well trained, in good physical condition, and immediately available for service. Even the girls we don’t consider good looking enough to keep at the resort will still usually command a high price because the brokers know they’ll get top dollar for them when they go to sell them later.

Q: Even the – shall we say – less attractive girls?

A: Look, our standards here at Island Royale are pretty high. They’re far less… “choosey,” if you know what I mean, at most of the whorehouses in Istanbul or Saigon. So, yeah, even our “rejects” are usually worth quite a bit.

Q: Greg told me a teenage European girl will usually sell for about $60,000 US. Is that what these girls sell for?

A: Oh, no. Caucasian girls from Island Royale bring a lot more than the average. I try to attend as many of these auctions as I can, just to keep track of the market.

A good-looking virgin teen will still command the highest price, but of course Island Royale doesn’t market virgins. Nonetheless, our white women will still retail for anywhere from $70,000 - $75,000 US each. An average-looking 13-year-old cast-off cunt from our resort might sell for around $72,500 US, and one of our good-looking white women in her late twenties will easily fetch more than that. Of course, our Asian and South American bitches don’t usually bring quite that much, and Black pussy rarely sells for anywhere near that.

And that’s retail, you understand. We don’t get that much when we sell off one of our culls to a wholesaler.

Q: If you could make so much more money selling the women directly, why don’t you…

A: Cut out the middleman? Too much hassle. Too time consuming. We’d have to warehouse the bitches, coordinate the auctions, collect the money, you know. Besides, we don’t want to go into competition with the wholesalers. We like the fact that we can just stop in, unload our excess inventory of pussy, and get out.

Occasionally over the years we’ve had guests who have taken a real liking to one of our slaves and will want to buy her from us here, but we don’t really like doing that. It’s awkward for us to have to negotiate with a Guest a fair price for the cunt, and it pisses off the brokers when we sell pussy direct. But we’ve done it a few times.

Q: What is the highest price a woman has sold for?

A: At retail? Hmm. Well, I remember this one French girl – a gorgeous little blonde sixteen-year-old virgin – selling for about €63,000 Euros. Let me think…. That would be over $92,000 US, I guess. But that was unusual; even virgins don’t usually bring quite that much.

The most money I can recall offhand anyone ever spending for slave pussy in one transaction was by a couple of oil ministers from Yemen who bought a Portuguese mother and her two daughters who were all auctioned off together as a “matched set.” Those guys paid almost $200,000 US for the three of them. Actually, I didn’t think the mother bitch was all that good looking, although she did have some really nice big tits. The daughters, though, more than justified the price. They were real “hotties” – fourteen and eleven and both virgins – and I figure the guys really just wanted to buy the untried snatches; the mother was simply an added bonus, thrown in to complete the set. I suspect the boys sold off the mother separately later on, but I don’t really know for sure.

Q: You said before that you try to sit in on a lot of these slave auctions. Just how are they conducted?

A: It varies somewhat from broker to broker, but usually he’ll send the word out that he’s got some pussy to auction off on a certain day and the buyers will all come in to look over what he’s got to sell.

Most auctions will be in the evening, and during the afternoon the girls will all be brought out and lined up, stripped, and chained to a wall or a post or something to give the buyers a good chance to inspect them – you know, to check out their teeth, their ears, their tits, their pussy and so forth. Let the buyers get their hands on the bitches and feel ‘em up a bit. Usually the auctioneer will have had the girl’s lot number painted on her belly or thigh or somewhere to let the buyers keep track of which cunts they’ll be wanting to bid on later. And he’ll have printed up a little “fact sheet” or something giving information about each girl – her age, where she’s from, whether she’s been spayed, whether anyone’s fucked her yet. You know, the usual stuff a buyer might want to know about the merchandise. Nowadays, all that information is typically available to the buyers from their laptops so there’s really no need for a printed flyer or anything, but most of the brokers still hand ‘em out anyway. Tradition, I guess.

Wait a minute – I think I might have here some of those forms they use. (Alexis rises, reaches for his bag and soon produces a small wrinkled sheet of paper.) Well, I thought I had a bunch of ‘em, but I’ve only got the one. Here, you can have it. I don’t need it.*

Then, after everyone there has had a good chance to look the gashes over, they’ll have a break. (Chuckling) If he’s clever, the broker will serve the buyers some booze ‘cause it increases their bidding – and then he’ll have the girls brought back out, one by one, to be auctioned off and sold.

Hell, you’ve been to a cattle auction, haven’t you? Or a horse sale, maybe? A slave auction works the same way. Sometimes the auctioneer will have the bitch’s hands tied behind her back during the bidding so that her lot number will show and so she can’t, you know, try to cover herself as she’s being paraded around on her leash, but if the cunt’s already used to being naked around men that’s usually not necessary – it certainly isn’t when one of our girls is put up for sale, anyway.

The actual sale of the girl doesn’t take all that long – a good auctioneer can typically sell well over a couple of dozen pussies in the course of an evening. Once the sale has been made, the buyer will square up with the broker and take his new slave away that same night or maybe the next morning. Getting the bitch home is usually the buyer’s responsibility, although sometimes – say, if he’s a particularly frequent customer or if he’s paid a rather high price for the cunt – the broker might help make the necessary transportation arrangements for him.

Q: Getting the girls out is a problem?

A: I suppose it could be if you don’t know what you’re doing. But most of these guys buy slave pussy on a regular basis and have a routine all worked out. Usually they’ll just drug the bitch and stuff her in a crate or something to haul her away. Once you’ve done it a few times, it’s not really all that complicated.

Q: Is that what you do when you transport the women?

A: I don’t need to do that very often. Most of the time, I’m dealing with secure places where I can fly in and out as I want to. But yeah, on occasion, I might need to resort to drugging the little cunts a bit to keep them quiet during transit. Rarely do I need to do that when I bring pussy in, though; our culled bitches are so used to following commands they hardly ever cause me any problems.


* See Appendix B – Ed.
Q: Dr. George tells me a female coming from here probably won’t survive more than about three years after she leaves the resort. Is that true?

A: Yeah, for the most part. Maybe five, tops. Unless she’s sold into a private harem or bought as a personal slave or something. The girls tend to get better care if they’re bought as private stash. (He snickers.) Even then, she might not last all that long, though, if her owner decides to use her as a fuck toy.

Q: A “fuck toy?”

A: (Alexis pauses, smiling mischievously.) I remember this party I was at some years ago at a villa a few kilometers outside Montenegro. Big party. Lots of guests. Nonstop fun and games for a week.

My broker had just had an auction, and one of the Arab boys there had shelled out a ton of money – almost one and a half million bucks, as I recall – buying a whole bunch of our Island Royale girls to re-stock his club in Oman. One of the pussies on the auction block had been this rather homely-looking 12-year old Laotian gash from the resort that we didn’t want and had just thrown in as part of the shipment to my broker along with the others he had ordered. Nobody at the auction seemed to want to bid much for her – as I said, she wasn’t much to look at – and since my broker didn’t want to keep her he just decided to give her to the Arab boy as sort of a bonus, I guess, because the guy had spent so much money with him.

Well, anyway, just for the hell of it the guy brought her to the party, naked except for this tight black leather hood with only one hole in it so she could breathe through her mouth. He had some sort of weird-looking tubular metal frame set up in this little room at the villa and they had the little twat bent over and tied up real tight, with her legs spread wide and her ass stuck up in the air. They even kept her mouth propped open with some sort of thing dentists use, and the sides of the hood had been chained to the frame so she couldn’t move her head. Hell, they had her bound so tight she could hardly move at all!

And then all the guys took turns fucking the little bitch – in the face, in her snatch and up her ass – one right after the other, usually two guys at once, with a guy working each end of her at the same time. As soon as one guy was done with her they’d wash her down a bit and the next guy would start in. Hell, they didn’t even take time out to feed her and the only thing the little cunt got to drink was cum! (Laughing) Over the course of the week the guys literally fucked that little bitch to death!

Now that was a party!

But, yeah, most of our cast-off gashes will be sold into a brothel, and usually they’ll all get sick and die after a few years or so of use. Still, a girl from Island Royale is a pretty good bargain for a guy running a whorehouse because her overhead will be so little.

Q: “Overhead?”

A: Overhead. You know – the cost of maintenance.

A buyer of one of our trade-ins gets a spayed cunt, fully trained and more than willing to fuck any man who wants her. No “down time” each month for her period, and certainly no expensive visits to an abortionist! The guy who buys one of our girls knows she’s good for twelve, maybe even fifteen or more fucks every day. (Chuckling) Assuming he has enough customers for her!

She’ll make a lot of money for him while he has her, believe me.

Q: Dr. George also told me that if a girl doesn’t succumb to illness or disease, she’s apt to try to escape at some point.

A: That’s true, I guess. But because they have no friends on the outside, escape is virtually impossible.

Q: He also told me the girls are subjected to rather brutal treatment if they’re caught, especially if it’s their second escape attempt.

A: He told you about the guys who record the girls being tortured, did he?

Q: Yes. I watched a part of one….

A: Yeah, well, it happens. Not often, though. Most of the bitches will die from disease long before they try to escape.

Q: Does it ever bother you, knowing that when you sell or trade in a slave, that you are basically signing her death warrant?

A: No, not at all. I’m only interested in getting as many good-looking young females as possible into the Nursery and disposing of our excess inventory of pussy. I really don’t care what happens to a bitch once I’ve unloaded her.

Besides, while these women may not live a long life, they certainly are treated well while they’re here. They have a far better life here on the island than most of ‘em would have had back home in some dirty little village, battling hunger while popping out babies.

Q: I gathered from yesterday you recently traded two women for the nine little girls you delivered here last night. How do you know when they’re only four and five years old that they will be….

A: Acceptable? Well, of course we really don’t know when they’re that young. That’s why we maintain such a large Nursery, and why we’re constantly on the lookout for new acquisitions.

Usually, by the time she starts growing some tits, or maybe just after, we’ll have a pretty good idea whether a girl will be able to “make the cut.” We’ll continue to train a young cunt, of course, even if she looks like she’s going to grow up to be rather plain-looking. As I said before, even an average-looking girl, properly trained, will usually still fetch a good price in the slave markets of Asia and the Middle East since her buyer knows she’ll be spayed, free of disease, and ready to be mounted immediately – and repeatedly. Our culled girls, unless they’re really ugly, are almost always in high demand. And that’s especially true if the gash has some European blood running through her.

And that’s a big reason why we’re sometimes able to get up to five or six, maybe even seven young females in an “even trade” for one of our trained culls.

Q: You didn’t do so well, then, on this last haul.

A: Well, the bitches I’m taking back with me are all getting up in years – they’re all in their late twenties and their pussies are starting to get kind of loose – but all of these little ones look like they’ve got great potential. I’ve dealt with the broker before, and he’s been pretty good about providing females who turn out to be suitable for us.

Q: I got the impression from Greg that your arrival was on short notice. How often do you normally visit the island?

A: Umm, it’s hard to say. I guess I drop off a bunch of young girls maybe two or three times a year, and I’ll make a few more trips back here just to pick up the bitches we want to sell. John-Boy tends to get back more often, ‘cause he can pick up baby Asian pussy a lot faster than I can get Europeans, and there’s an even bigger demand for our culled females in the eastern markets. But I really think I get better quality baby pussy – most of his girls wind up being shipped back out once their tits have popped out.

But back to your question. As far as bringing in baby cunts, I’m really more at the mercy of my brokers. They deal directly with the slavers and pick up the young females as they can – usually only one or two at a time, but sometimes they can get ‘em in a bunch – and the broker will then just warehouse his catch until he has enough little snatches to make a deal with us. That’s when I’ll call Greg and let him know I’m coming in. The brokers all know the going rate: Five or so young girls per trade-in, and cash for the rest of the bitches he’s ordered. I’ll come in, pick up his stash of baby pussy, confirm which women I’ll be bringing back for him, and then while I’m gone he’ll start setting up his auction or whatever. We don’t really need to spend much time haggling price with him.

Q: Why two trips? Why don’t you just bring in the women and take the little girls back with you?

A: We do sometimes, but generally the logistics don’t work out for us. Our brokers will be keeping the little ones stashed somewhere until I get there, but until he unloads the kids he usually doesn’t have enough room to park our culls, and we certainly don’t want the older bitches coming into contact with the baby twats. They start asking questions. So, although it is a bit of expense, it’s usually better for us to make the two trips.

Besides, as I said, typically the broker wants the extra time it takes for me to come back in order to set up his auction. He obviously doesn’t want to have to feed and house the bitches any longer than he has to – it cuts into his profit – and so he usually wants a couple of weeks or so of lead-time to, you know, send the word out about his upcoming sale and prepare to receive his customers.

Q: Just how do the slavers actually acquire these little girls?

A: In a variety of ways.

Most are simply kidnapped from a playground or somewhere and taken away. We get a lot of our European baby pussy that way. Some of them are sold to the slavers by a family friend or perhaps even a family member looking to make a quick buck.

Some, especially Asian and Mid-East girls, are simply given away.

Q: They’re given away?

A: Oh, yes, quite a few.

Asian and Arab cultures don’t put a very high value on female flesh. John-Boy has had dirt-poor Indian farmers begging him to take their daughters. From their standpoint, they barely have enough to feed everybody in the family, and female children won’t grow up to do much of anything except produce more mouths to feed. The farmers would much rather have sons who can help them work the fields some day. The “Little Woman” can always pop out more babies. Shedding themselves of their unwanted female children simply means they can go back, fuck the wife some more, and hope she produces more sons.

Q: And do these men know that, in sending their daughters away, they are condemning them to a life of sexual slavery?

A: In their hearts, they probably do.

Oh, the slaver might give them some song-and-dance about hiring the girl as a “child model” or maybe knowing some rich American couple who want to adopt her or something, but they probably don’t believe it. All they’re really interested in is ridding themselves of their unwanted daughters, and if they can get a few bucks for her, so much the better. They really don’t care what we do with them once they’re gone.

Q: I have a difficult time imagining that a father would actually sell -- let alone give away – his own daughter, knowing that she was to be used as a sex slave.

A: Ah, well, you’re thinking like a Westerner again. Asian and Middle Eastern societies don’t have a problem with that.

Q: What about your European “acquisitions?”

A: Most of the females sold to the slavers in Europe are by a neighbor, or a family friend or “trusted uncle” or someone. Rarely do European fathers sell their daughters, though.

Even so, in Europe a family friend or neighbor – rather than a family member – sells the vast majority of the girls that wind up here.

I suddenly remembered again the beginnings of my investigation into the sex slave industry. I had interviewed dozens of Russian and Ukrainian villagers, all of whom had expressed outrage, sorrow, and concern for the welfare of the poor little girls who had been so savagely kidnapped. I now wondered how many of those villagers I had talked with had actually arranged for and secretly profited from the children’s abductions.

Q: How much can a “family friend” expect to receive for selling a little girl to a sex trafficker?

A: It depends a lot on the girl, of course. Young Polynesian females can usually be bought for around six hundred bucks or so, for example, but a cute little four-year-old blonde from the Czech Republic might fetch close to two thousand dollars. A slaver might pay even more for a good-looking young Australian gash with European bloodlines, but he certainly wouldn’t pay anywhere near that much for Australian aborigine baby pussy or, say, a kid from Nicaragua or China.

But again, the slavers don’t actually buy most of the little beavers they sell to a broker; they simply kidnap the twats. And, as I said before, often baby Asian cunts are free for the taking.

Q: And then the slaver sells the girl to a broker. How much does the broker pay?

A: Again, it depends a lot on the girl and where she’s from. A broker will pay as much for a stolen gash as he would one the slaver has had to purchase – so obviously, the slavers try to get as much baby pussy on their own as they can, rather than have to shell out money to a “family friend” or something. But in general terms, the slaver can figure on making a very good profit on the sale. That’s what keeps him in business.

Q: You mentioned earlier that a broker will “warehouse” the little girls he has acquired until he has enough to make a deal with you. Where does he keep them?

A: It varies from broker to broker. One guy I know in Belarus has a large farm way out in the middle of nowhere. Another guy I know keeps ‘em locked up in an abandoned factory building he owns in Germany. Most, though, usually just keep the girls in cages in a basement somewhere. That’s where John-Boy picks up most of his baby pussy, anyway. When they’re that young, they don’t really take up all that much room.

For obvious reasons a broker will want to dispose of his catch as quickly as possible, but for the most part he’ll take pretty good care of the little kids while he has them. He might not spend a lot of money on their clothing, but he’ll keep the girls clean and reasonably well fed. The brokers can’t have ‘em getting sick because they know we won’t take ‘em if they are. And if he can’t keep ‘em healthy long enough to sell to us, well, then he’s more-or-less stuck with housing the little cunts until they’re old enough to be sold elsewhere. He certainly can’t release them!

(Chuckling) Years ago, John-Boy once dealt with some stupid Indonesian bastard who just couldn’t keep his hands off the little snatches. The asshole had fucked every single one of the girls by the time John-Boy arrived to pick them up. Naturally we discovered that they weren’t “intact” as soon as they got to Costa Rica and were being screened for disease.

They never made it to the island. We sent the whole bunch of them back to the clown and told him we’d never do business with him again. (Snickering) Who knows how long it took him to get rid of all that spoiled baby pussy.

Q: I gather you spend your time dealing with your European contacts, while John-Boy operates in Asia. Who handles acquiring girls from North and South America?

A: We both do I guess, but John-Boy probably works those markets more than I do ‘cause he gets back to the resort far more often. We’ll dump the culled bitches destined for the American markets and pick up the little beavers during the shuttle’s regular turnaround time in Costa Rica. The logistics are relatively easy.

Over the years Greg has even handled some of these transactions, but that hasn’t happened now in a long time. Frankly, I don’t think Greg likes dealing directly with the brokers all that much. (Chuckling) He likes to keep his skirts clean.

Q: I’ve noticed that there aren’t many African girls in the Compound. Is it because you don’t have any brokers there?

A: We have a few, but we generally call them if we want to get a little black African pussy, and then we’ll just buy her outright. There’s not really all that much of a market for ripe European or Asian bitches there, except maybe for South Africa.

And it’s funny, but most of our Guests don’t really like fucking a black bitch all that much, although (chuckling again) they do give great head. Something about their tongues.

Q: What about their tongues?

A: I don’t know. They just seem to have exceptionally long and flexible tongues. Have you been sucked off here by a black chick yet?

Q: No.

A: Well, you really should get a blow job from one of the African girls before you leave. Believe me, it’s incredible.

Q: So how long will you be on the island this time?

A: (Sighs) Only briefly this time. I’m going to rest up a bit, dip my pecker in some more pussy, of course, but then I need to take some bitches back to my broker in Odessa to complete our deal, so I’ll be leaving on the shuttle Saturday morning.

Q: That’s when I will be leaving.

A: Terrific. Maybe we can play some gin rummy or something on the way back to pass the time.

Q: You’re on. But that won’t be as much fun as being here, though. Only two days. That doesn’t give you much time to rest up, does it?

A: No, it really doesn’t. Normally I can hang out and “charge the batteries” here a bit longer, but a deal’s a deal, and I know my broker wants these women delivered to him as soon as possible. Some of ‘em are going to the auction block, I would guess, but I think he’s already got most of ‘em sold privately. He’s probably already even gotten his money for ‘em. So obviously he’s anxious to receive delivery as soon as possible so his customers will be happy.

Q: And after your delivery is made in Odessa?

A: Well, I’ve got a line on a guy in Holland who’s interested in buying some of our girls, and he says he may be able to get his hands on some baby pussy for me. I’d kind of like to get some young Dutch cunts brought in – we haven’t had any here now for quite awhile – so I’m going to meet with him in a few weeks and see what we can work out.

He says he doesn’t have any baby pussy yet, and he probably won’t be able to get me any. Harvesting white baby pussy takes some skill. Although all these guys say they can deliver some little bald twats to me, when the time comes most of the brokers get kind of skittish about warehousing stolen kids. But who knows – maybe this guy can get me some. At any rate, though, I gather he’s been in business now for awhile and so I’m sure I can at least sell him some of our older snatches while I’m there, even if he can’t get me anything to replenish the Nursery.

* * * * * * * *

It was mid-Thursday afternoon now – my fourth full day at Island Royale – and I was back in my suite, staring across the table in the main room at my scribbled note pads and the random assortment of my audio cassettes. It had been my intention to use this time to start collating my thoughts, but the task seemed overwhelming, my mind kept drifting, and I found myself repeatedly gravitating toward the lanai overlooking the seemingly endless poolside sex orgy below. Oddly, as I stood on the balcony feeling the warm ocean breeze across my face and watching as dozens of nude or half-naked girls frolicked in the Compound below, I did not feel exceptionally aroused. I blamed Ketrin, the sweet little 16-year-old long-haired Lithuanian brunette I had summoned to my room following my morning interview with Alexis, for the temporary absence of any significant sexual interest on my part. The way she had gripped my cock in her tight little pussy had been marvelous….

Glancing again to the table, I sighed and resolved to return to my work.

The telephone rang. It was Greg, advising me that Dr. George had indeed authorized a new girl, Alyssa, to enter the Graduate School that morning, and he wondered if I would like to assist in her training. I of course accepted his invitation immediately.

“Fine. I’ll pencil you in for, say, eight-fifteen tonight, then, will that be OK? Oh, and wait a minute…” Greg paused as I heard some papers shuffling. “Yeah, listen. If you wouldn’t mind – if it’s not too much trouble for you – would you try at some point to screw her with her ankles parked up on your shoulders? She’ll need the practice.”

And so, just like that, I was scheduled to fuck a very young girl later that evening. Along with a request, no less, as to how I should do so.

Curious, I turned to my computer terminal to learn what I could of Alyssa. To my surprise, the resort had two girls by that name – with different name spellings – on the current roster of available sex slaves.

I clicked the first thumbnail and the monitor displayed the image of an attractive Eurasian brunette in her early twenties with long hair and large thick nipples. Clearly this was not the girl recently assigned to the Graduate School, for she had obviously been in full service in the Compound for well over a decade.

I returned to the main page and selected the other girl. This time, the monitor displayed the picture of a little Russian girl with medium-length brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was rather skinny and perhaps somewhat attractive, but she could hardly be considered beautiful. Her image suggested Alyssa to be a child far too young to be a candidate for Dr. George’s Graduate School, but from her “vital statistics” I determined her present age to be 11-12 years and concluded that her website photograph must have been taken quite some time ago. I tried to picture what the girl might look like now and found myself becoming extremely aroused as I contemplated my upcoming tryst with her later in the evening.

It occurred to me that, if indeed this was the little girl that Dr. George had recently “enrolled” in the Island Royale Graduate School, she would not be available to be summoned by the resort’s patrons like the others. I clicked the button at the bottom of the screen:

Alyssa is currently available by Scheduled Appointment Only.
Please contact the Concierge for further details.

I could take it no longer. I arose from my chair and left the room to go wandering through the resort. In time, I found myself leaning on the counter of one of the outdoor bars in the Compound, watching as a hairy muscular man sat naked on the edge of the pool, arms behind him for support, while a full-figured woman splashed in the water, servicing him with her tits. Farther down the edge of the pool a young Asian woman with small breasts was slowly giving head to a thin gray-haired man with an amazingly long dick. Behind them, out near the middle of the pool, three little naked girls playfully wrestled for control of a large inflatable plastic raft that bobbed up and down in the water. In turn, each would spread her legs to briefly straddle the raft before the others would topple her. At one point one of the little girls climbed up to lie spread-eagle on top of the raft, her bright red cherry ornament shimmering in the sunlight as it rested on her thigh beneath the smooth wet lips of her gloriously displayed prepubescent pussy, but she too was quickly dethroned by the others amid a chorus of wild childish squeals.

I suddenly became aware of three figures approaching quickly from the far corner of the Compound. The middle figure, a Caucasian female in her late teens wearing a long black robe with matching hood, walked just ahead of two large muscular men costumed – somewhat comically, in my opinion – in the garb of Roman Centurions. As they walked, the young woman’s robe would occasionally catch the breeze and fly open, revealing briefly her soft white naked body, but she would make no effort to cover herself and remained focused upon maintaining the swift pace of her travel.

The threesome skirted the outer perimeter of the pool area and crossed the large grassy lawn leading to the main entrance of the hotel facility. As they marched past me I noticed that the girl’s wrists had been loosely shackled in back, and I decided to follow them as they quickly made their way into and across the wide expanse of the lobby. Upon reaching the concierge the trio briskly turned left and ducked out of sight down the south hall of the complex, and by the time I had reached the front desk the Centurions had already escorted their prisoner well down the corridor. They stopped outside the Dungeon, the door opened, and I caught a glimpse of a tall bearded man of Middle Eastern ancestry dressed in a long white robe and holding a whip, gesturing to the trio to enter. I felt sorry for the poor young girl as she vanished from my view, for I knew she would shortly be subjected to this Guest’s idea of sexual fun, but I also knew I was powerless to intervene and, with a sigh, retraced my steps across the lobby and back outside to the pool area. I smiled as an attractive nude redhead raced past me and into the lobby, cupping her large freckled breasts in her hands as she ran. The girl had probably been summoned for a session, I thought, and was late in responding.

Two of the little naked girls I had seen earlier continued to amuse themselves with their water toy; the third – an amusement toy herself, I suppose – I could see over on the far side, kneeling between the legs of a short middle-aged Japanese man with thick black-rimmed glasses, busily parting his robe as he stretched back in his beach recliner to receive a blow job from the tiny prepubescent female.

After a brief dip in the pool I retrieved my robe and selected a chaise longue located well beyond the din of the poolside orgy, still contemplating a nap before my scheduled “lesson” with Alyssa later that evening. I had just begun to drift off to sleep when I became aware of a naked girl in her mid-teens, water still dripping from her smallish tits and shaved pussy, standing to my side. I looked up to her face and she smiled.

“May I be of service to you, Master?” she asked.

I looked down, noting again her slight chest and smooth hairless vulva, and reached out to stroke the lips of her vagina. She moved closer, spreading her legs slightly, and thrust her pelvis forward to offer for me an easier examination of her gender. She was an attractive young blonde, I thought, well tanned and with a smooth complexion, and as I fondled her labia I felt a stirring once again in my groin.

I opened my robe and my little water nymph immediately straddled the lounging chair and began massaging my cock with her hands. Soon I was rock hard and the girl sought guidance as to whether I wished to fuck her mouth, ass, or pussy. I declined to choose and she returned to her hand job, occasionally bending down to kiss the tip of my knob. As the girl sensed my climax approaching she repositioned herself to take my cock fully into her mouth, and I ejaculated soon thereafter – not a major explosion but an enjoyable one nonetheless – and the little sex slave expertly accepted my cum and swallowed before rising from the chair. Smiling politely, she asked me if she could be of any further service but I waved her off. I again drifted off to sleep as I watched the young nude blonde stroll back across the pool area, heading toward the Boudoir. As an afterthought, I moved my robe back over my now flaccid penis.

* * * * * * * *

Management had made it quite clear that I was not to attempt to interview any of the sex staff during my stay at the resort, but earlier in the week I had asked Greg if I could be allowed to speak privately with some of the male Island Royale employees, provided of course I would not use their real names, and he said he would “think about” my request. I had heard no more from him on the subject and frankly had assumed my request had been denied, so I was a bit surprised then when he called upon my return from the Compound to inform me that Pelle, an electrical power plant technician, had agreed to meet with me in my suite following the conclusion of his work shift at five o’clock. I had little time to gather up my notes and audio cassettes from the table – let alone to prepare for this interview – before Greg and Pelle arrived at my door shortly after the hour.

Greg provided the introductions, emphasized to Pelle that he was free to speak candidly with me, and then promptly departed. I asked him where he wished to have our discussions and Pelle suggested the lanai, explaining that he had already spent most of the day inside the power plant and wished to get some air before dinner.

Pelle is a tall, thin, lanky man in his late twenties, with horn-rimmed glasses and short light brown hair, and when he moves it is slowly and with careful deliberation. Despite Greg’s earlier words of encouragement, Pelle still seemed somewhat reticent about meeting with me, and I worried privately to myself whether I would be able to coax him to “open up” during our discussions. I searched for some topic of conversation that would put him more at ease.

“Boy, the view from here is quite magnificent, isn’t it?” Looking down upon a group of young nude women catching some late afternoon sun, Pelle replied simply, “Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Well, Greg asked all of us, but nobody volunteered. We drew straws. I lost.”


“Nah, I don’t mind,” he shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”

Pelle has worked at Island Royale for almost six years. He had received his training in electrical power generation at a private technical college located on the outskirts of København, and had been recruited by the resort only fourteen months after he had begun work at a power plant near Hässleholm. He told me that at first he had been hesitant to leave his homeland – and year-old marriage – to essentially become a “non-person” to the world, but the pay he had been promised was quite good, he said, and he was intrigued with the idea of living and working in the South Seas surrounded by beautiful naked women, so after some further thought he had agreed to accept the resort’s offer of employment. Since he has been at the resort he has “vacationed” off the island only a few times: Once, to Rio de Janeiro during the Mardi Gras season and twice to the western coast of the United States, and he at least claimed to me that his only real regret in having accepted his position with Island Royale had been that, as a practical matter, he would never be able to return to his beloved Denmark or ever see his family again.

We sat facing one another across the small table on the lanai for our discussions. I had offered Pelle a cocktail but he declined in favor of a bottle of chilled still water; I however, had already mixed up a batch of vodka tonics shortly before Greg had called and threw some more ice into my tumbler before we began the interview.

* * * * * * *

Question: So tell me, what is it really like living here with all of these naked girls running around all the time?

Answer: (Smiling) Believe it or not, it’s just a job. It has some nice fringe benefits, I suppose, but at the end of the day, the work must still get done.

Q: Still, there’s a lot to be said for those “fringe benefits,” don’t you think?

A: Yeah, I guess. But all the girls do here is fuck. You can’t have any meaningful conversation with any of them. You can’t really just talk to them as people. They’ve got nothing to say. I find that somewhat frustrating at times.

Q: How so?

A: Well, around here all they think about is how they can please your pecker. They’re nothing but toys to play with. After awhile you want some real companionship.

Q: And do your fellow co-workers feel that way, too?

A: Most do, I think. At least the ones that have been here as long as I have. The new guys don’t. When a new guy gets here, he’s like a kid in a candy store. I’m sure I was the same at first.

(Laughing now.) You can always tell a rookie ‘cause he walks around with a hard-on all day.

Q: You say you miss the opportunity to have a “meaningful” relationship with a woman here. Do you regret having left your wife to come here?

A: Yeah, maybe a little. We hadn’t been married very long – and we didn’t have any children yet. I wouldn’t have taken this job if we had had a kid. Anyway, though, she and I weren’t really getting along all that well at the time I left. I don’t know, though; we may have been able to patch things up if I had stayed put.

The resort offered to advance me some pay, so before I left I paid off her car and the other bills. I didn’t want to leave her with a bunch of debts. But all I could do was leave her this little note telling her that I had “insatiable Wanderlust” or something and just couldn’t take living there anymore. I don’t know if she bought that; she knew I wasn’t really much interested in traveling back in those days. I hope she wasn’t hurt all that much by my leaving so suddenly.

I’m sure she divorced me pretty quick and by now I imagine she’s hooked up with some other guy. May even have had a kid or two. I wish her a good life.

Actually, I don’t really think about her all that much anymore. When I do get to feeling homesick, it’s usually more for a couple of friends of mine – guys – I used to hang out with. And for my Dad and younger brother. My Mom died when I was seven. Dad remarried when I was a teenager, but neither me nor my little brother ever cared all that much for our step-mother.

Still, I think it would be nice to see Dad again. Obviously, that isn’t possible.

Q: You can never go back to Denmark?

A: It wouldn’t be safe for me. Management doesn’t prohibit us from going back home, but there’s too much risk I’d run into someone who knew me years ago. How would I explain where I’ve been all this time?

Q: Tell me about a typical day for you here.

A: Nothing special, really. I get up, go to work in the morning, and then get off. I’ve got some seniority and don’t have to work the night shift much anymore, so my evenings are generally free.

Q: You really do make your work here sound just like any other job.

A: Well, really it is. I’m doing essentially the same work I did back in Hässleholm. Actually, it is a bit more challenging here, since we’re so isolated. We need to anticipate a lot more when repairs will be needed, and we have to be a bit more clever in working out problems when they do arise.

Every so often – about once or twice a year – our department will need to make a run back to the mainland for parts and such. After all, things wear out. We’ve got to anticipate this and have back-up parts ready when we need ‘em.

Q: Do you make those “mainland” runs?

A: I’ve made a few, and they’ve asked me to go on some others. But it’s a hassle and I don’t really like making the long trip. Usually we’ll buy parts and such in the US, and I think it works out better for us to send an American or two. The language problem, I guess.

Q: You speak English exceptionally well, though.

A: Thanks. Most of the guys in my department are from the States, and I guess I just picked it up from them. I only took a couple of years of English when I was in school. Enough for me to get by with when I first started working here, though.

Q: I’d still like to know what you do during your off-duty hours.

A: Oh, I don’t know. It varies. Sometimes I just watch TV or play pool. We’ve got a pretty nice lounge down on the second floor – I don’t like to venture down into the lobby too often and mingle with the guests – and of course we have some girls up there all the time, serving as bartenders and such. Nobody actually likes to fuck ‘em up there, though. Maybe get a blow job or something, but that’s about all. It’s all pretty low key.

On my day off, I’ll sometimes get with another guy and a couple of gashes and we’ll go check out one of the sailboats. The wind on the western side of the island can be tricky at times. That’s always fun. And – well, I guess it’s all right for me to tell you – there’s a nice beach over there, just for the use of the staff. No guests are allowed there. We’ll sometimes all pile into one of the buses and go over there for the day. The surf’s pretty good and some of the guys are really good at surfing. I’m not, though. A body board – we call ‘em “boogie boards” – is about all I can handle.

I’m not much of a golfer like a lot of the others, but I do play some tennis. And I really like the sauna. I’ll probably be heading that way when we’re through here.

Q: Will you go there alone?

A: (Smiling) Oh, no. I’ll grab some little bitch to suck me off while I’m sitting in there. If she does a good job, I may even take her back with me to my room. Usually, though, I’ll just have her blow me and then boot her out. After dinner, if I still want to get laid I’ll check to see what girls are assigned to maintenance and make my selection. That’s what I do when I’m going to have a day off.

Q: And when is your day off?

A: It rotates. I’ll be on duty, usually 8-5, for five days straight; then I get a day off. I’m working tomorrow and the next couple of days, but then I’ll have this coming Monday off and won’t report back for work until Tuesday morning.

Q: Does the sex staff treat you any differently than they do the Guests?

A: I don’t think so. Maybe a little less formal, because they see us more often and get to know us a bit more. But not really. They’re all very submissive and respectful. All of these girls are trained to sexually service men. It doesn’t matter to ‘em whether the guy is a guest of the resort or lives here. They’re here to be used by all of the guys. That’s all they understand. I just pick out the bitch I want to use.

Q: What kind of girls do you go for?

A: (Smiling again.) Well, I kind of like the young Asian chicks. You know, around twelve or thirteen, just after they’ve started growing some tits. Just old enough to fuck. But they’re so popular with the Guests they don’t get assigned to maintenance very much, so I don’t get to fuck ‘em very often.

Now, for a blow job, I like the really young ones. White, Black, Asian. I don’t care. They’re always so excited about sticking a dick in their mouth. On my day off, I’ll usually visit the Nursery once or twice for some head.

Q: I suppose then that you are also a frequent volunteer for the Graduate School program too, aren’t you?

A: Not really. At least not any more. Years ago I did a lot of “volunteer” work there, but I got tired of having to deal with all of those inexperienced little cunts who didn’t always know what they were doing. I kind of lost my patience with ‘em.

But I don’t know, though. I saw earlier today on the board that they parked another new pussy up there this morning and were wanting volunteers. I may go ahead and sign up to fuck her once or twice if she’s good looking.

Q: Yes, I’m aware of that. Greg has invited me to serve later this evening as a “Visiting Professor” for the girl. Her name is Alyssa, and I think she’s about twelve years old.

A: Is she good looking?

Q: I thought she looked all right when I saw her website photo, but it appeared to have been taken some time ago.

A: Well, I’ll check her out then and maybe sign up to fuck her on my day off.

The trouble usually is that if she is a real “hottie” it might be hard for me to get an appointment to fuck her. My job comes first, after all. They tend to want to have these girls getting laid continuously throughout the day and evening, and only put her down for the night around midnight, after she’s been mounted over a dozen times or so and is completely exhausted. But I usually want to get to bed long before midnight. I can’t take time off to fuck her during the day, obviously, and the evening bookings seem to fill up rather quickly.

On the other hand, if she isn’t a “looker” I usually wouldn’t have much trouble getting an appointment to mount her, but if this Alyssa bitch you’re talking about isn’t all that cute I probably won’t bother trying. I’ve screwed enough little bald pre-teen pussies in my life. Let some other hard dick do the work. I’ll get around to fucking her later on, after she learns how to do it right.

Actually, between you and me, I think the best time to screw one of these little cunts is early in the morning, before she’s been fed breakfast – you know, while her pussy is still fresh and tight. But it’s tough for me to get up early, go in and fuck the little bitch, shower and then still make it to work on time. So I can’t do it except on my day off.

Q: Getting laid really isn’t a major issue for you anymore, is it?

A: (Bristling somewhat.) Hey, I’m no queer, if that’s what you’re implying.

Q: No, no, not at all. It’s just that I would have thought you’d be lining up for the chance to have sex with a very young girl.

A: (Smiling again.) Been there. Done that.

Look, I can fuck little girls anytime I want around here. After the novelty has worn off a bit, though, a guy tends to be more selective. I don’t want just any pussy anymore; I want a bitch who really makes my pecker stand up.

Q: Can you summon a girl while you’re on duty at work?

A: Yeah, I suppose I could if I wanted to. But my job keeps me on the go a lot. It’s hard to get the work done while you’ve got some little beaver sucking you off.

Some of the other guys – the guys that work back at the hotel building itself – now they have an easier time taking a break to get laid or maybe get a quick blow job or whatever. And that’s where all the girls hang out, so they can grab one a lot easier. But usually even those guys wait until after they get off work to get laid.

Q: Do you think you’ve had sex with all of the women on the island?

A: I doubt it. It’s hard to know, really, since after awhile all of the cunts tend to look alike, and they’re always bringing out new ones to use. But I figure I’ve fucked most of them here at one time or another. And there’s a few of the bitches I like to fuck a lot, so I’ll look for them whenever they’re rotated into maintenance.

There was this one Japanese cunt I remember, Mayuko, who I really liked to fuck, but she got sold off, oh, about eight months ago. I don’t know why, really; she was only about 15 or so and I thought she still had a pretty nice tight little pussy. But they got rid of her anyway. That’s what happens to all of the bitches around here eventually. I don’t know how they decide who to keep and who to sell. I guess that’s Greg’s decision. They certainly don’t ask me!

One day the bitch will be here, sucking your dick, and the next day she’s gone for good.

Q: How long do you think you’ll remain employed here at Island Royale?

A: Really don’t know. I still enjoy the work – and the sex is great too, of course. But I don’t see myself “retiring” here. I’ve got a good savings account and I really like the scenery in Northern California. I’ll probably buy a place and move there when I’ve had enough of this.

It would be kind of nice, I guess, to go back to Europe for a visit, but I really don’t have any interest in returning to live there anymore. I guess I’ve become too “Americanized” over the years. I’ll definitely do some traveling, though. You tend to get a bit claustrophobic being here on the island all the time. But I think after living here all these years, it might be kind of weird to go visit, say, the Far East and see all those Asian women – women with clothing on – who go around living as people rather than as play toys.

(Laughing) Don’t know how I’ll handle not being able to just go up to one of ‘em and order her to give me some head.

* * * * * * * *

Shortly after eight that evening, wrapped in a long white terry cloth robe, I reported to the front desk in the lobby and was soon led to the Graduate School “classroom” by a woman in her mid-twenties dressed in a green jumpsuit and carrying a small, neatly folded white towel. We did not speak.

Upon our arrival my escort dutifully handed me the towel, bowed slightly in my direction, and quickly walked away. I turned and opened the door and there was Alyssa, sitting patiently on the edge of the bed with her arms resting on her thighs, and as I entered the room the young girl leapt from her perch to stand naked and at attention before me.

She looked tired. There was a glazed look to her eyes and her smile seemed a bit strained, but despite this she appeared neither frightened nor even apprehensive about her impending sexual obligation.

Her weariness was quite understandable, I thought, since I figured that before my arrival the girl had already vaginally serviced at least ten different men, starting early in the morning when she had been summoned to the infirmary to have Dr. George permanently remove her childhood pussy charm and be mounted for the first time. From there, I knew, she had been taken to this sparsely furnished room and left here to satisfy throughout the day and evening hours the steady stream of lust-filled males Management had invited to use her. I did not know how many more men Alyssa would be required to fuck this evening before she would finally be permitted to rest for the night, and I did not want to even contemplate the number of hard dicks the young girl would be called upon to accept into her tight little pussy – almost two hundred separate mountings, according to Dr. George – during the course of her final exhausting days of “Graduate School” training and before she would be released back into the Island Royale Compound as a “fully serviceable” female sex slave. All I could really think about at that moment was the fact that I was to be the next man to have her, and I could feel my cock swelling in anticipation.

The girl was still rather skinny, especially in her thighs and legs, and for the most part retained the boyish trim she had exhibited in her website photo. When her picture had been taken she had still been completely flat-chested, but now Alyssa sprouted two small, almost conically shaped breasts, the puffy tip of each seemingly to have been dipped in light pink paint, and her tiny hint of nipples did little to disrupt the smoothness of her pale aureoles. Despite the slimness of her lower limbs, the slight curve of her hips promised that she would someday blossom into the finely shaped figure of a young woman, but as she stood there, hands to her side, innocently displaying before me the swollen lips of her bald pussy, she remained far more a child than an adult.

Her hair had been tied loosely in back with a bow, but as I watched her Alyssa reached up and untied that bow, shaking her head slightly as her soft glistening hair was sent showering down past her should

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