"Girl 123" was one of the prettiest I had ever helped get ready. She was about twenty, tall, brunette and looked like she had been on the street for a couple of years. Another runaway, meth addict or both. Anyway my hands were enjoying cleaning her, touching her and dressing her. I never seemed to tire of making their groggy bodies moan and making them wet before I sent them on. Sometimes when I remember all the unkind words I heard from girls in high school, I enjoy hurting them a little. I never leave any bruises or red marks; I would become shark bait, if I did.
I've started in the middle again. Let me describe the last six years of my life to you. These words have been written before but no one has, or ever will, see a line.
Everyone calls me Will. I'm twenty-five and important here now. My face and body were burned when I was ten. Everything works but is not what the girls ever wanted. That wasn't the worst part. My sex drive is high. In my teens, I kept trying to get a date, lose my virginity and be special to a girl. It didn't happen. At eighteen, when I raped an arrogant, evil one, my life changed forever. Not for the better and not for the worst, just changed.
The extra big policeman who caught me in the alley hustled me into the basement of a nearby abandoned building, locking me in a room with one cot and a water bottle. The next day a completely covered, hooded man came in to give me an offer, I could not refuse.
"Young man you have a decision to make. You will be convicted easily and serve twenty-five to life for rape and murder. Or you can work for us and have a nice life."
The girl I raped was kicking and screaming; when I entered her, she bit the hand I had over her mouth. That's when the cop showed up. I hadn't even gotten off and certainly did not kill her. But this frightening ghoul was not there for a discussion.
Within a month I was living on a dry island, probably off the Pacific Coast of Mexico. The living conditions were plush for the forty or so mostly male inhabitants. Floatplanes and big yachts came and went about once a week, other than that life was quiet, few words were spoken. There was fear and work.
The only attractions on the island were a small hospital on one side and a few buildings on the other. The hospital had twelve private rooms, a ten-bed overflow ward, two doctors, five nurses, modern operating and dental facilities and a few of us quiet workers. I was smarter than most. My training started with me giving shots twice a day to the mostly comatose "patients." I had worked for about a month before I realized all the patients were young and female.
I never asked but it was too firmly explained to me that the patients were all receiving chemotherapy for advanced cancer. Soon I had a new job, getting some of the zombie girls up and walking around - to the bathroom, around the grounds and to a different treatment room for chelation. For advanced cancer patients they sure were pretty, healthy, desirable and had all their hair.
I was sitting on the dock one day when one of my former charges was led to a waiting yacht. She was beautiful, my dick rose instantly. No high classed hooker could have been more desirable. Her make-up and hair were perfect. Her clothes were expensive and stylish. Her movements said she was totally in a chemo fog. I had touched her cunt a few times but chickened out when she started to moan too loudly and thrust into my hand. An expensive brushed aluminum footlocker marked #11 and a matching briefcase also marked #11 were loaded onto the boat behind her.
I was starting to understand. I would be even more quiet and would not even let my eyes hint a question in the future. The boat was of Liberian registry and reeked of oil money and unquestioned privilege.
My reward for my work and silence was more work closer to the discharge date of the patients. Most were together enough to dress themselves, do their make-up, handle their own bathing and toilet needs and feed themselves. They did not talk and their eyes did not focus well. But "Oh, their bodies" were approaching perfection. Lasers removed any blemishes, blood tests discovered diseases – some patients were moved across the island - pussies were tightened, teeth were straightened, implants were made and hemorrhoids were removed.
I had it figured out now. These were the ultimate "Real Sex Dolls." No traceable history, healthy, compliant, quiet and pumped with hormones to keep them hot and willing. The "dolls" had to be sold for a quarter million are better. I was sure the aluminum boxes contained medications to keep the "Dolls" in any state the new owner wanted. The briefcases had to contain instructions and a warranty.
I could not piece together why some "Dolls" were rejected. The ones that abruptly were moved to the mysterious other side of the island. Did they have incurable diseases? Were they deformed in ways that could not be fixed? Were they too old? What happened to them? I knew it would not matter how much I learned. I would never get off this island.
Again a promotion. I was given firmer instructions this time. Directly from the head doctor, "We know you have touched the patients. Those of us, who work in the hospital, all enjoy the girls. That is all right up to the finishing stages. When the patients reach the skin clearing stage, don't fuck them. They must be absolutely free from any problems and be tight for transfer."
All I heard was that I could fuck the patients. I had not done that. I knew who would be my first. I was going to cum the first time into a cunt. She was #21. Lucky #21. She had been on the island for about three months. Her round soft body responded so easily to my touch and her pussy tasted better than anything I had ever known. I had made her cum on at least a dozen occasions; usually jacking off on her and then cleaning it up. Twice she surprised me and reached for my cock and sucked me off. The zombies did not do that. You could take them orally but they did not ever initiate.
I was only one of two people in the quiet hospital at eleven that night when I headed for #21's room. The nurse on duty nodded as I went by. #21 was perfect, clean soft, warm. The hospital gown and sheet were little protection, as I opened her legs and rubbed my nose around her cunt, inhaling her and feeling my dick lurch and harden to a length beyond its normal proportions.
I wanted to take my time with #21 and enjoy my first fuck. Her nipple rose to my kisses and pushed between my lips, as if to say, "Please, suck and lick me." I did suck both and kissed around her arms, neck and ears. Again, a surprise, when my lips closed on hers, her tongue slipped out to toy with me.
She was almost a zombie but she taught me how to French kiss. As I stood beside her bed, my fingers teased her clit to one orgasm then my inexperienced finger slipped into her. Again her body, not her mind, taught me. Her body told me where her g-spot was and that it liked to be pressed more than rubbed. I lay across the foot of her bed and kissed her pussy as I stroked inside her. Again she was the teacher. When my finger touched her tight asshole, she moaned with such desire, I knew that this was important to her. But for this time, she was beyond that. Her legs widened and her cunt tightened around my fingers. Her hips arched and she lightly spritzed my tongue. I didn't know what happened, so I pressed harder inside her and opened my mouth over her vulva. I was rewarded with a tasty fountain bursting from deep inside her womb. I still wanted to drink from her when she quit feeding me.
I was crazy now, stripped and climbed onto her bed. Again she reacted, pulling me down as I guided myself into her. There was no denying that she wanted this as much as me. Her hips taught mine how to move. Her hands told me to keep up the same motion while she tilted her pelvis to allow her clit to be abused by my pumping shaft. I needed to cum more than I needed to breathe. Still I forced my eyes to watch her face as it contorted and her body tightened seeking its release. I had never heard a zombie speak, but she hissed, "Yesssssssssss" when she came. My cock erupted violently into her. I felt her recoil as I battered her cervix but her body still raised up to please me. I collapsed on her, pushing the breath out of her body, knowing I was no longer a virgin. She was a zombie again but still she held me.
For the next five nights I visited #21. Something about the way she felt and the smell of her skin made me want to come to her and not sample the others on the menu. She sucked me off and her eyes looked too alert. She knelt and gave me her ass for my first anal. I imagined she played with me and told me to hold her feet together and cum all through her toes. I imagined she asked to taste my cum. I wanted to believe that she was responding to me. With all the drugs pushing her even beyond "Chemo Brain" I knew it was fantasy.
Without warning and without feeling, the head doctor told me to prepare #21 to go to the other side of the island. He was shocked when I spoke, "Can I go with her?"
"You have found one that has taken your heart. There will be others. No, you cannot go with her. No, you cannot have her for your own. She is still far too valuable to the organization, even though her body has resisted our program. Prepare her, send her on, forget her and get the room ready for another."
When I started to speak again, the doctor's firm stare told me to shut up and do as I was told. I couldn't let my thoughts of her go. My shift was almost over. I had never gone to the other side of the island. It wasn't far. Maybe a mile. After dark, I began my walk toward the lights.
There were only five buildings: workers' quarters, a dinning/rec hall, storage, a three-room "hospital" and a gym sized building. All the activities seemed to be at the gym. I snuck in the dark end and was facing a brightly lit movie set.
My lovely was spread and reaching for an overly endowed, near seven foot tall, totally hairless, coal black man. I wanted to run to her and protect her as he ripped into her surgically tightened cunt. She screamed in pain but arched in lust on the now blood stained white sheets. I could bottom out into her with my six inches. This man had ten and was as big around as my thin wrist. He pounded and tore her. I cried as I watched her beautiful body rip open and bleed even more. He spread her legs and his legs wide so the camera could get a close up of the damage and her torn flesh.
I knew the sound; she was starting to cum. I barely could see through my tears. Soon he would be finished with her and someone would care for her. I could steal away to see her again and kiss her pain away. As the height of her climax surged through her, another man walked up behind her. I was puzzled the new man wasn't ready to use her. He was fully dressed and held his hands behind his back. Just as she hissed her lovely telling "Yess" her black lover rose from her and the clothed man brought his hands from behind his back and slit her lovely throat so wide I could see white cartilage, the gaping hole in the center of her neck and spurting blood. I screamed "No" but no sound came from me. I sunk to my knees and cried, never blinking and never taking my eyes from her body as it jerked three times, her usually closed eyes stared widely at the ceiling. Her life's blood flowed out into a widening puddle on the bed making a red halo around her beautiful body.
The crew must have done this many times. They professionally cleaned up the set, wrapping my desire into the sheets, underlying blankets and plastic tarps. Within minutes the cameras were shut down, the lights began turning off and I saw a bundle carried from the building by a big strong man. I still could not move and I was alone in the dark cavernous building.
Some time during the night, I began to stumble back across the island. I fell several times out of emotional, not physical, exhaustion. The next day the doctor looked at my unkempt appearance and red eyes and said, "You really fell for her didn't you. Don't worry she will be all right. Go get cleaned up. You can't work in here all dirty like that."
I didn't care what happened. I did not go back to work. I didn't clean up either. I sat on the bed and my mind played the sight of the nearly severed, gasping, and blood spurting throat of my first lover over and over and over. I would never have a tear again. I used them all up that day.
A month later I was not happy with myself. I know we have a longer animal history than a compassionate human one, but my sense of self-preservation and my horniness already had me working hard and eying the patients again. At least once a night, I awoke in a cold sweat with thoughts of my dead first lover and how dispassionately she was used. I was using too but could not stomach thoughts that any of my playmates would have to pay such a high price.
As time went on, I was asked to do more and more. I even made deliveries to the other side of the island. We didn't send enough rejected "Dolls" to the other side of the island to explain all of the floatplane traffic that came and went there. During one trip, I saw a wonderfully modern computer and satellite communications room. On another trip I saw empty Styrofoam boxes with blank labels for human body parts and I saw a plane deliver two people on stretchers and a doctor I had not seen before. One of the people was clearly a sedated man dressed in a prison inmate uniform.
By the time I finished stocking the supplies and having dinner, I watched the doctor re-board the plane with only Styrofoam boxes. I never saw his traveling companions again.
I had been a proficient computer nerd before coming to the island. I mentioned that to the head doctor one day. He said, "In time we may give you a try on the computers. No one here has ever been very good at it or enjoyed the work. By the way Will, you will be on duty tonight when four new patients arrive. We have no history or blood work on them. They may be sick and diseased. I would leave them alone, until we find out."
"Thanks Boss, you've probably saved me some shots."
He laughed. That was the first laughter I had heard in eight months on the island. I guess we can get used to anything and learn to live.
The new additions were not up to the usual standards. The first one was a thirty-year old athletic woman who had given birth within the last twenty-four hours. The second was a tweaker with bad teeth and skin; the third was a young pretty Amer-Asian woman who looked like she had been hooking for a while and the fourth looked like she arrived straight from a gang fight that she had lost badly. She had been pretty once; her face would bare scars until she was moved across the island.
I thought, "Damn, I have to wait another week to celebrate."
The business of this island was far more complicated that I had imagined. What I had seen and the new arrivals implied avenues like selling newborns, typing and selling healthy organs, helping influential people loose problem children, snuff films, rape films and selling damaged women to a sadist who wanted to finished the started job.
To hell with waiting, I wanted to try something. The healthy new mother would be just fine. There was no booze on the island for a toast but the next cunt I fingered would be number fifty. Not bad for a scared, rejected twenty year old who had just lost his virginity four months ago.
The new mom was drugged, not in the Chemo-Brain program. She was like a rag doll. I stripped and cleaned her and spread her nude before me on an examining table with stirrups. She was pretty and had that natural superior disdainful look that I had seen so often staring down at me. I disliked her instantly.
I lubed my hands and wrists and began to finger her dry, stretched sleepy cunt. Two fingers, three, four were no problem. I tucked in my thumb and pushed. The resistance was only token against my thrust. I enjoyed the view of her cunt lips stretched around my wrist, made a fist and began pulling and pushing into her. The back of my thumb raked the spongy area two inches inside. Part of her would come out when I pulled and then disappear when I pushed. Her body wanted to cum without her permission. I wanted to feel all that she had inside.
When my fingers opened and closed, they wrapped around her womb and I could pull back and feel her cervix. I tried to push a finger into her little dimple but it kept moving and slipping away. It was fascinating to see she easily had taken half my forearm. I wanted to stretch her wider and see if her drugged still body would cum. As the thin part of my wrist was just inside her, I slipped my left hand in along my wrist and pushed. There was resistance but she began to stretch. Soon I could hold my hands apart inside her and look down the hole at her evasive cervix. I wished I had a light and a mirror; I wanted to see a G-spot.
This wasn't much fun so I just fisted her to see if she would cum while passed out. I discovered a woman's body can cum even when drugged beyond being able to voluntarily move a muscle. It wasn't a mind blowing one, it was an arm sucking, tight stomach, curled toes, absolutely still one. But without a doubt her body came and trickled more wetness around my thrusting fist and arm.
She was already lubed and I was horny so I pushed my greens down and pushed the head of my cock into her asshole. I just used her to masturbate myself. When I came it was a release but I had to pee so I waited for my cock to soften and tried. It wasn't difficult. I was able to drain most of my bladder into her ass. Before I pulled out I reached for a bedpan to hold under her ass just in case. That was a good idea. There was less to clean up.
It wasn't a great sexual release, but fisting and fucking and pissing in that body with the disapproving expression was strangely satisfying. She would never know. But I would always remember getting even just once.
Early the next day, the Doc sent me to deliver the "tweaker" to the other side of the island. He told me to report to a fellow named Hawk after my delivery. Hawk talked to me about computers and communications for about an hour. He threw in a few math questions. Within just a few minutes I knew he was working from prepared questions. He did not understand my answers but soon he asked me to wait in the room. I did, for at least an hour.
A totally new face came through the door. He looked totally out of place on the island. Three piece suit, reading glasses, professional, about fifty and not at ease with people. His name was Cauldwell. We only talked about thirty minutes when he handed me two software programs and a laptop.
"Will, I'll be back in three months. See if you can master QuickBooks Pro and Microsoft Office before I return. In Office pay special attention to Word and Excel. If you do well, we'll get you started on some computer work and learning our hardware and communication system. Those are not my areas of expertise. There will be another person with me then."
After three months I was very good. I met Nathan the company's IT expert and began work with only point-to-point communication access to somewhere. Much of what I did was in coded abbreviations but my guesses, the prices, steps and timing made it easy to put the island's operation together. After another few months, without notice I was summoned to the usually vacant Admin Office.
"Will, I'm Zorba Miakos. You work has been impressive over the last few months. Tell me what you know about the nature of our business on the island."
My heart jumped into my throat. I did not know how much to disclose or how much risk I should take.
Zorba sensed my reluctance, "Be honest with me. You should know a lot now. The more you understand the more impressed I'll be."