Come for a Visit, Stay for Life Ch. 01

Story Info
A mid-life crisis leads to lifelong consequences.
3.4k words
4.13
28k
19

Part 1 of the 13 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 02/13/2022
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
maybemay
maybemay
78 Followers

Come for a Visit, Stay for a Lifetime

Note to the reader: This story contains a female superior theme and involves the abuse and rape of a male character. If such things are not to your taste, please move on to a different story.

The ad in the Travel section of the newspaper promised warm, sunny days, no telephones and the potential for female companionship. It sounded like exactly what I needed. I was at a breaking point in my mid-life crisis; bored, over stressed with my job and lonely ever since the death of my spouse of 20 years. I needed a break and an open ended trip to some exotic local seemed to offer exactly the sort of medicine to sooth my soul.

The ad was skimpy on details and an Internet search added little in extra information. There were photos of tropical beaches and Tiki huts and a vague description of the place as being cut off from the world's distractions. Getting there was not all that easy; you needed to apply or a visa and wait for an invitation. The exclusiveness of it really appealed to me so I sent in a request and received a lengthy application in response. It wanted the basic information such as my personal data, passport number and nationality but then it went on to inquire about my financial, marital and family status. I found this a bit odd but I figured this country did not want deadbeats or folks running from legal problem to be landing on their turf and causing them problems, so I filled in everything requested. A month later I received my visa and some instructions on how to make air connections to get there. There was even a handy list of things to pack and what I could just leave at home.

The cost of just getting there was well over ten thousand dollars and I would need to make three connections as I hopped around the globe before getting on a seaplane in New Zealand for the final leg of my journey. I sure hoped it would be worth the money and all the effort.

I was met at the airport in Auckland by a middle aged woman in a bright yellow uniform holding a placard with my last name on it. She easily one handed my somewhat heavy bag and led me to a vehicle just outside the arrival terminal. She was polite and chatted easily enough about my journey so far but always seemed to change the subject when I tried to probe for some details on this place I was going. The most I was able to learn was that we would be driving the east coast where we would be catching the seaplane that would take us to our final destination. We were scheduled to arrive at our destination sometime the following morning. She said, "just picture the plane arriving at Fantasy island without some miniature person standing there shouting, 'da plane, da plane!'" She went on to say that the place was a tropical paradise and that I may never want to leave it.

She was right about the Fantasy Island analogy. Palm trees, a majestic volcanic mountain in the background and scantly clad women scattered about could be seen as we made a flyover prior to our final approach. If there were any men about I did not seem to notice, although the women seemed to be a mix of every shape, size and shade in creation. My yellow clad escort was hustling my bags down the dock before I even set foot outside of the plane and a cold drink in a coconut cup was placed into my hands before I could take my first few steps. Welcome to paradise!

One thing that was different from the Fantasy Island of TV fame was the appearance of the women. Apparently there was no casting director around to screen the inhabitants to a uniform, fashion model standard of perfection, not that I was a snob about such things but the women who gathered to greet my arrival were even more a cross section of the human race than was visible from the air. Still, they were friendly and all seemed quite interested in personally meeting me. Quite the ego boost but with an underlying purpose that I was to to discover quite shortly.

The drink I had been given must have had quite a bit of power behind the fruity flavor and that, mixed with the tropical heat, made me somewhat light headed. I had slept very little on the plane overnight and jet lag coupled with a large time zone difference made me quite fatigued. As if this was the normal reaction, I was taken by the arm and led to a golf cart and quickly whisked away to a hut with a bed, so soft and inviting that I was asleep before I can remember resting my head on the pillow. When I awoke, I was in a different world.

---------------

I was given a sign with the new arrival's name on it and told to expect him on the evening Qantas flight from Sydney. Brian Wentwood was described as being fourtish, around 5'-9" with brown hair, so about as unique as every second or third guy to get off the plane. While I would be hard to miss in my bright yellow uniform, I made sure I was nearly blocking the exit and I held my sign at eye level and tilted it around at every face that seemed a possible match. My guy was face number nine. After a quick introduction, I grabbed his bulky bag and headed to the company shuttle.

Unknown to Brian I was not just his chauffeur, I was also there to evaluate him. He was full of questions and that was a bonus for my primary mission as it got the conversation going allowing me to probe without seeming nosy. A skilled interrogator can learn a lot without being intrusive if the conversation can be kept casual. Over the course of a few hours I learned the following:

-Brian was not currently married

-His wife had died three years earlier from leukemia with him taking care of her in their home                             until nearly the end.

-His skill set included accounting and other math skills as well as experience with most                             household duties.

-There were no children, close family members or close friends in his life.

-He owned a fairly expensive home with no mortgage and had a decent retirement account.

-The man appeared to be in good physical condition and somewhat athletic

-His attitude towards my assertiveness was one of respectful acceptance.

By the time our landing dock came into view I had enough information to check all the required boxes to proceed with an accelerated introduction to island life.

--------------

Something was wrong. I sensed it before becoming fully awake. I had a vague memory of being led to my hut the previous day but no memory of getting undressed and into bed. Before I even opened my eyes I knew I was naked and in unfamiliar surroundings. My brain was cloudy as if this were the morning after a night of heavy drinking but I only remembered having that one fruity drink and nothing else. Looking around I saw I was in the sort of accommodations I expected for a tropical resort except that my windows had iron gratings and my door lacked a handle. Still, the walls were bamboo so I did not feel particularly trapped. I decided to use the bathroom and then set about seeing where my belongings had been stored. My room contained a small dresser with mirror and a two drawer end table with a lamp. My bed was more or less a frame with a mattress tight to the floor; not that many place to look and all of them free of my stuff. There were a few toiletries, towels and other necessities but not so much as a thong for clothing. My bed even lacked a sheet to be used as a makeshift toga. Thankfully it was warm.

I tried the door but could find no way to open it and I went to the window and was about to start shouting for attention when the door opened and three large and well muscled women walked in, one carried a steaming breakfast tray. I recognized her as Phyllis, my escort from New Zealand. She placed the tray on the small table near the window while the other two quickly inspected the bathroom and tidied up, not that such service was required. None of them seemed shocked to see me naked and two of them acted as though I was not even in the room. Phyllis suggested that I not let my breakfast get cold and went on to say that my first full day on their island was bound to be busy and I should fortify myself with a good breakfast. I had a dozen or so questions to ask but as soon as I uttered my first words, Phyllis stepped closer and putting her finger to my lips said, "No questions just now. Eat your breakfast while it is warm and everything will be answered at orientation afterwards."

I wanted to ask just about my belongings along with when and where orientation would take place but before I could, Phyllis added, "Go ahead now and enjoy a peaceful breakfast. Your clothes are being decontaminated. Just a precaution to prevent any unwanted bugs invading paradise. Someone will bring them in an hour and take you to orientation." With that she and her two silent companions left, leaving the door open behind them. I rose to watch them walk away and while I thought about just leaving to have a look around, I was quite naked and there was nothing particularly interesting nearby. Besides, that breakfast did smell inviting.

An hour later Phyllis showed up at my door but instead of my belongings she had a breach cloth, a pair of tennis shoes and towel which she handed to me. "My apologies," she said, "your clothes were not done yet. Go ahead and put this on. You will find out that it is generally the fashion choice here for most men. You will look like you belong here and I'll get your things to you later. If you feel too shy you can use the towel as a wrap but you won't see anyone else doing so. There is a tube of sunscreen here as well and I suggest you apply plenty of it until you tan up a bit."

I did feel self conscious about the breach cloth but not wanting to appear shy, I decided against the towel. After a quick stop in the bathroom to take care of necessities and to lather on the sunscreen, I followed Phyllis down the path and through the trees to what I assumed to be the building for orientation. As I walked along I began to feel progressively weaker until I finally had to stop. Phyllis seemed to expect this and with a raise of her hand, the two other women from this morning appeared and helped me the rest of the way to the building. I wanted to ask to be taken back to my hut but I found that my mouth could do nothing more than spout some gibberish. I was taken inside the building and led to a comfortable chair and made to sit down.

Phyllis proceeded to a table at the front of the room while her two companions stood with one on either side of me. While my body was weak and hardly able to move, my mind was sharp and I understood every outlandish word that Phyllis said.

"First Brian, let me welcome you and apologize for the circumstances that you find yourself in. There is no need to worry, nothing is wrong with your body. In fact, while you were sleeping, your were examined and found to be in perfect health. That sunscreen that you applied contains a powerful muscle relaxant that is absorbed through the skin and that is the cause of your weakness. The effects only last an hour or two and not long after we finish with your orientation, you will be back to normal."

"You have been selected for a high honor. Many apply for this honor but we only accept the best candidates and even then, only when we have the need to do so. You are to be part of a competition or a hunt if your prefer, as well as the prize to be awarded at the end. You were selected because of the skills your claimed on your application as well as some other factors uncovered by our researchers. While you may not think so right now, our hope is that you will come to love and cherish the life we are offering to you. It may not seem that you have much of a choice in this but you do, just not right now."

"It is quite impossible for you to know where you are. This island is a self governing republic of women and we prefer to remain mostly unknown to the rest of the world except through our economic activities. We do not require much contact with the world except though means completely under our control. I would guess that you think you are somewhere north and west of New Zealand but the Pacific is a large ocean and your flight deliberately took place at night. If we were to take you back to Auckland it is highly unlikely that you could disclose our location to anyone who might believe your story. I suggest you accept the fact that you can never leave without our assistance and that while here, you are completely under our authority and control. Try to make the best of it."

"There are very few men on this island. In fact you could go the rest of your life without ever meeting one. Most of the women here have no need for men and some have been badly hurt by them. However, some of our members fancy male attention and your presence here is part of our way of fulfilling that need. We are also a sporting bunch and we love a good competition and this brings me to your most immediate role."

"I assume you have heard of fox hunts and have a general idea of what happens at one. A fox is released and after a head start, riders on horseback use tracking hounds to hunt it down. You, Brian are to be our fox. There are six individual women who will be our hunters. If they wish, two can decide to form a team either at the beginning or during the hunt. They will be armed with tranquilizer rifles and equipped with color coded ear tags like the type that are used on cattle. You are to be given a half day's head start and their goal will be to hunt you down, tranquilize you and tag your ear with their personal tag. Once you are tagged, all must return to the base camp while you are given a minimum of 3 hours to recover and start off again. Once the same person or team has tagged you three times the hunt will be over and that person or team declared the winner."

"The location of the hunt will be on a nearby island, approximately 5,000 acres in size. There are plenty of places for you to run and hide. In addition, there are six huts on the islands. Each of these huts has food, water and bedding. They are free zones and once you are inside you are immune from being hunted for the next eight hours while all the hunters are recalled to base camp. At the end of eight hours a horn will sound and you had better be on your way as you will be hunted down. You will also be safe at night as all hunters must return to camp by dark. I would suggest you not consider trying to ruin our fun by letting yourself be caught without an effort. Two of your hunters have some good reasons to hate men and once you are caught they are allowed to do anything they like to you short of permanent bodily harm. Be warned that the bar for what the judges consider permanent is set quite high, so my advice is to try your best to not be caught."

"If by some miracle you manage to avoid being tagged three times by the same hunter or team after five days, you will be free to leave our republic if you wish. We are completely certain that you can never find us again and you can trust that once you leave,we will never bother to try and find you."

"One more thing, I mentioned that you are both the prey and the prize and I should explain a bit more. As the prize, you become the property of whoever tags you three times. By property I mean exactly that; you belong to them the same as if you were a car or a horse. If you wish to call this slavery, then do so. We do not care what you call it. Your owner will use you in whatever way they see fit. They will also be responsible for keeping you healthy. We are not monsters but masters here and we have rules that all owners must follow. Some have been known to develop long lasting, loving relationships with their chattels. In many ways your actions will likely influence the sort of life you will have with us. "

"Oh, I almost forgot." Phyllis reached under the table and produced a nylon collar similar to that would used for a large dog. It had some sort of large, plastic bulge attached to it. She approached me and fastened it tightly around my neck. I could hear a solid click as it was locked into place.

"This is just a bit of extra security in case you decide to become violent. It can deliver an electric shock that you will find quite unpleasant as well as tranquilizer if needed. All of our hunters will have the means to activate it if necessary but they are not allowed to do so without cause. Don't give them cause! It will also activate if you try to remove it, so don't."

"I know you have plenty of questions that you would like to ask but unfortunately your voice is not working just yet. Don't worry, You really have all the information that you need for our little hunt and all that we are going to give you. Their will be much more for you to learn afterwards but for now, just try to have fun of if not that, at least enjoy the adventure. I know that our hunters will. My two companions here will take you to the boat for the ride to a nearby island where you will be set loose. You will have the full use of your body by the time you get there. In six hours our hunters will follow and the hunt will begin. The hunters will be at the dock to watch you leave. They are quite excited and you should be pleased to be hunted by such an outstanding group of skilled trackers."

With that remark I was lifted into a wheelchair and rolled through the small village towards the dock. There were quite a few women who stopped to stare at me as I was rolled down the street as well as some curious children. I never saw a single male. Near the dock stood the six women who I assumed were to be my hunters. They all wore jeans and hiking boots along with light weight, long sleeve tops and baseball caps. The women were as different from each other as they could be. Different sizes, shapes and shades of skin. Two of them were what some might call stout and one had the build of a long distance runner. The remaining women appeared quite ordinary and I would call one of them horse faced ugly. None of them looked to be younger than forty. Maybe I stood a chance of lasting the five days.

maybemay
maybemay
78 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
7 Comments
AnonymousAnonymous12 months ago

Fineshed the first part, so far so good

hindsight2020hindsight2020over 1 year ago

Change the gender of each character and this is a sexual traffic/slave trade group who would be hunted down, eliminated and reviled by most women and men on the planet.

Changing the gender does not make what they do moral in any way shape or form.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

So the faithful husband takes care of his dying wife till the end, goes on vacation and this is the thanks he gets from a bunch of c**** in a messed up island community. Just because the guy didn't have immediate family, doesn't mean no one knew where he was going or expected back.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

interesting start, curious to read more...

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

Never trust a Kiwi...it's the polite quiet types you have to be wary of! :)

Show More
Share this Story

Similar Stories

Wedding Vows Plus Man marries into a female dominant family.in Fetish
Wife's Friend Turned Me into a Cuck A story of how my wife's friend turned me into a cuckold.in Fetish
Kerry is in Control A husband comes to know his rightful place in the marriage.in Fetish
A Femme Domme Tale Ch. 01 A young couple decides to change their marriage.in BDSM
Becoming Hers for Good Ch. 01 He meets a dominant and kinky ex-classmate and becomes hers.in BDSM
More Stories