Exotic Destination

In the beginning, all he had done was send implied messages that she should dress differently. She tried to get her mother to buy clothes she though he might like but was always anxious that her selections wouldn't please him. Her mother usually wouldn't willingly afford or agree to the things she wanted, so she lived in continual fear of his disapproval.

Then he couriered the smartphone with e-wallet and told her she could buy things herself, without her mother knowing. At first, she was ecstatic, because she could decide. But after a few poor choices, that he told her to return as they did nothing for her, she was devastated and started seeking his approval for her selections of underwear and even everyday clothes. Eventually, he began indicating what she should buy, what she should wear and how she should wear it, taking the decisions away from her and thus the anxiety of 'getting it wrong'.

In this process, he moved her away from the sorts of trendy clothes teenagers were wearing into more adult attire. Not slutty or revealing but garments that men rather than teenagers would appreciate. She adopted the more sensual sophisticated look of a confident twentysomething-year old that turned men's heads, particularly when juxtaposed with the fresh innocent face, awkwardness and naivety of an eighteen-year-old girl. Even her subtly elegant makeup couldn't hide her youthfulness while her actions betrayed her lack of experience.

Being only five-foot-tall, he got her into heels, initially small inch-high Mary Janes, but increasing to three-inch sandals once she could walk steadily in them. She felt the squeeze of her toes, the tension in her calves and the roll of her bottom when she wore heels, but the height it gave her made it worth it. Especially when he complimented her and told her how pretty she looked.

At first, she hid her new clothes from her mother, but over time she realised that her mother was just too distracted and self-absorbed in her own misery to really notice and only occasionally criticised her outfits. Her mother actually seemed relieved when she said she was buying them with the money she earned waitressing at the local pizza place. So, she began to wear what she wanted, when she wanted. Or rather, what he wanted.

Her mother's disinterest was in stark contrast to the affirmation and compliments he gave her when she showed him what she was wearing, by video chat, WhatsApp or SnapChat. Eventually he got her to send him pictures and gifs of herself every day, mostly benign but some racy shots, up her skirt or down her cleavage.

The most embarrassing was when he told her to go out without underwear and send him proof. Taking and sending photos of her nude pussy or bare breasts made her blush with shame, even when no one was watching. But without fail, the pictures clearly showed how horny it made her, moisture clinging to her pussy lips or nipples standing proudly at attention, just for him.

She found herself the focus of men wherever she went, walking in the street, working at the pizza place, shopping at the grocery store, watching her with looks she had not experienced before. A hunger and an intensity that she found disturbing and uncomfortable but made her pussy tingle with excitement and her nipples harden into small pebbles, gently embraced by her sexy new underwear.

Now rather than being ignored when she tried to reach the top shelf for groceries, there was always a man there to help her, smiling down with a fire in his eyes. Older men now let her into the checkout queue in front of them, trying to make small talk with her. If she dropped an item, it wasn't her who leapt to pick it up, it was the men who always seemed to be nearby in the aisle.

She started noticing men glancing surreptitiously, even guiltily, as she sashayed down the street and could feel the gaze of those following her, ogling her rolling hips and slender legs. When she told him about it, he responded that it was because she was a beautiful sexy woman and that men desired her. Not to worry, but to use her femininity to her advantage.

Previously, she was invisible to everyone, but increasingly a couple of her male teachers gave her more attention. She was particularly pleased when her English teacher, began to comment more positively on her essays.

Her tips also started increasing from serving pizza, particularly from groups of men who seemed to be undressing her with their eyes and trying to look down her top, as she leaned over to give them their food or drinks. She learned how to maximize those tips, with a subtle shake of her chest, lick of her lips or wriggle of her butt when she knew they were watching.

This reinforced her belief that the way he was dressing her was to help her be more adult and more confident, so she continued to embrace his creeping control of her life.

Previously she had a profile handle that was quite young and girlish, but he started referring to her as 'my little Dove' in their chats, in reference to a bird he was teaching to fly. He never used her given name and eventually persuaded her to change her handle to @LittleDove, only ever calling her Dove. This was also the name he used for her false ID, so that when she was with him, she always felt like an innocent bird facing the turbulence of the world but knowing that she could return to his secure hands.

He had promised to buy her some new books after shopping for some new pretty clothes and lingerie that wouldn't irritate her nipples. But first she was to have the promised piercings. Having two traditional holes on her earlobe, she wanted to enhance her upper left ear helix with three coloured studs. Once in the chair, it didn't take long for the piercing gun to do its work on the cartilage, like wasp-stings leaving aquamarine, pink and white gems embedded in a row.

She had regained her previous excitement and loved her new edgy look, already feeling more grownup. This made her eager and ready to have the navel piercing. She had to pull up the hem of her dress to give the piercer, whose nametag read 'Amy', access to her belly button, wondering if that was why he had made her wear a dress and the tiny thong, rather than a skirt and shirt which would have been far simpler. The sly smile she noticed when glancing towards him as she exposed herself, confirmed her suspicions. But the desire to have the hard-earned piercing, outweighed the embarrassment of showing her sexy undies.

Fortunately, they were in a closed room and Amy seemed totally unconcerned about anything other than her business, so blushing prettily to herself she lay back with her lower half exposed. While she had selected the three ear studs and received the piercings, he had selected a beautiful top-down navel ring with a row of coloured stones.

"I like this. And it matches your three new studs." He passed it to Amy.

Amy noted. "That ring has a thicker post, so I'll have to use a heavier gauge needle. It'll hurt a bit more and take longer to heal. Are you okay with that?" Talking to her.

He responded immediately. "That's fine. Isn't it?" Shooting her a predatory smile with a stern look. "We'll just have to take care of it."

"I guess. . . It is pretty." Nothing else she could say.

Sharp pain accompanied the piercing, reminding her of her throbbing nipples, but not drawn out nearly as long. And then she was the proud owner of a bellybutton ring. The thing she couldn't comprehend was why all this exposure and piercing made her crotch tingle, in time with the throbbing of her piercings.

As she pulled down her dress, she noticed the wet spot on her panties between her legs. Not sure if it was her arousal or his cum from earlier, she blushed deep crimson, particularly since she didn't know whether Amy had noticed too. She excused herself and ran to the bathroom to wipe herself dry, even going so far as to wipe inside in case there was any goo there. Seeing the clear liquid on the toilet paper told her that it was her juices, not his that had soaked her panties.

A feeling of mortification settled over her, even though she had just achieved what she had been dreaming about for ages. The continual juxtaposition of joy and humiliation that she experienced with him, and the way her body and mind responded still mystified the young woman. Over the past year she had become increasingly used to it and tried to ignore any anguish it caused, because if she dwelt on it too much, she became frustrated and angry at herself. And at him, which never ended very well. It was easier to just accept these hardships in exchange for the security and attention.

When she came out of the bathroom, he took her hand firmly and walked her briskly through the mall to the La Perla store. Unlike many men, he walked in nonchalantly, leading her to some of the sexiest underwear in the shop. He spent the next few minutes selecting a number of matching pairs, talking to himself as much as to her.

"Hmmm. This is sexy. It'll push your cute little titties up nicely. Give you some cleavage." He was admiring a scanty push-up bra and lacy high-leg bikini panty set in teal.

"Oh yes. I love this. Your ass will look gorgeous." Burgundy thong with black trim and a matching front clipped bra.

"Perfect to accentuate your new rings." Black quarter-cup bra that would hardly cover her nipples with an even more miniscule g string.

Then smiling politely to an attendant who had drifted over and asked if they needed assistance, with a quizzical look at the assumed father making such suggestive remarks to his daughter. "No thanks, we're fine. We know what we want."

Blushing and looking down at the floor, not at the next piece he picked - a tiny purple set with a very low-cut cups and high-cut panty. She had become accustomed to him selecting her saucy lingerie over the past few months. It started with her making the selections, but gradually the decisions shifted to him as he told her some of her selections didn't 'suit her' and she'd have to return them. Building her submission to him. It had become simpler and easier just to let him take the lead.

So, that is what she did when he said, "Let's go and try them on."

He brazenly walked into the fitting room with her, ignoring the shocked look on the attendant's face. Fortunately, there were no other customers, so he got his way despite the feeble attempt of the woman to ask him to leave. He reclined on a couch in the separate room just outside the curtained changing room, to enjoy her modelling the underwear and give instructions on how to show them off to best advantage.

"Turn around and bend over, legs straight, hold your calves and look at me." She found herself displaying her taught ass with the teal panties creeping up her crack and her breasts falling out of the bra. She never questioned the request, having become used to displaying herself for him at his instruction. At least they were alone, the attendant having walked off in a huff when he had refused to leave. So, there were no witnesses to the sensual charade.

Just thinking about what she must look like in this provocative pose made her blush crimson and tingle in shameful anticipation of what he might ask her to do next. The lascivious expression on his face told her it would not be tame. She felt a combination of panic and excitement, conditioned over time through the increasingly daring exhibitionist acts he had made her perform online.

But now it was different. This was real life, without the protection of her computer. Which made it that much more terrifying and that much more exhilarating, tapping into the suppressed exhibitionist streak that he had seen the first time she showed her tits to the world and that he had carefully groomed ever since.

"Come over here and lean towards me." Wearing the black set with her nipples and their rings presented enticingly by the shelf bra. When she did what he asked, he tweaked each nipple and then pulled them gently by the rings, causing jolts of pain through her sensitive breasts.

Then grabbing a handful of her pale tit flesh surrounded by the pink sunburn. "We need to get you an all-over tan. These white patches just don't do justice to this sexy bra."

When she wore the purple set, he again called her over telling her. "Spread your legs a little bit. . . No wider." His hand slid up her thigh to the flimsy cloth hiding her pussy, where he thrust a finger under the gusset and straight into her wet hole.

"Please don't. Someone might see." She protested, meekly trying to close her legs against his invading finger.

"Haven't we covered this already?" He snarled, hooking his finger inside her and painfully squashing her clit with his thumb, getting her attention and making her pussy juice even more, despite the discomfort and shame. "You do not say no to me. Not EVER! Now put your foot up here." Indicating the arm of the chair on which he was sitting and pulling her towards him by his hold on her crotch.

She did what he said, realising that the quicker she obeyed the sooner this ordeal would be over. She could see the attendant, trying to peer into the fitting room to see what was happening, but fortunately his body obscured the finger fucking he was now giving her increasingly sopping twat.

"Lovely! Easy access and sexy as hell." He complimented her.

When she saw the attendant start coming towards them with a determined look, her blood ran ice cold and her face flushed fiery hot. "That woman is coming. . ." Was all she could mumble, pleading him with her eyes.

He smiled and removed his finger, slapping her gently on the backside, saying. "Run along then, you little minx. I think there's one more to try."

She saw that her juices were smeared on the panty crotch, when she pulled them down, causing her a moment of horror, as she realised that they would have to take these to the checkout counter for everyone to see. Desperately trying to wipe the offending moisture off on her dress to make it less obvious, she was distracted by a raised voice.

"Sir. I really must ask you to wait outside. Men are not allowed in here." The attendant becoming strident with her disapproval.

"Okay. Let's go, little dove. I'll be waiting outside by the stockings. Bring all of the underwear. They look absolutely scrumptious." She could hear the amusement in his voice and was sure he was looking mockingly at the woman as he said it.

He was where he had said he would be, having picked a few thigh high stockings in different colours, one of which had a garter belt. She gave him the lingerie and blushed when he raised an eyebrow and smiled at the dark patch on the purple panties, raising them to his nose and taking a deep sniff, all the while looking her directly in the eyes.

She couldn't hold his look, dropping her gaze to her feet, hands clasped nervously in front of her, like an embarrassed schoolgirl. She thought to herself that no one should have to endure such torment, but that did not stop the moisture slickening her treacherous pussy.

She also couldn't look up when he paid for the purchase, chatting unconcerned to the haughty woman about the enchanting lingerie available in the shop and that they were sure to visit again soon.

On their way out, she wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole, when she overheard the woman muttering "... only a girl. Disgraceful."

Bright and cheery as if nothing untoward had happened, he grabbed her hand and said, "Time to buy some books."

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Chapter 8 - Education

It was through her love of literature that he had initially brought her under his influence. Early on he had sensed her neediness and desire to please, leading him to believe that she had submissive tendencies that he could cultivate. He gave her attention, building her trust and getting her to open up about her thoughts and desires.

When asking about her favourite subjects at school, she replied that English literature was her best. That started an ongoing discussion about the books she enjoyed the most, such as Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' and Janes Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. They discussed gothic horror and romance and the roles of men and women depicted in them.

This gave him an opportunity to ask her how she saw the relationship between Dracula and Lucy or Mina. With a bit of careful guidance, she admitted that both girls were controlled by the supernatural power of the Count. In other books, the themes of wild free women giving in to their passions and loves, in contrast to the dullness of expected social roles, resonated with her innocent sensibilities.

He recommended Emily Bronte's 'Wuthering Heights' which generated endless discussions on the nature of obsession around Heathcliff and the differing roles of Catherine and Isabella. Thomas Hardy's 'Far from the Madding Crowd' and 'Tess of the d'Urbervilles' continued this theme of passion driving women's emancipation from social mores to follow a man, often with unintended consequences, but their own 'emancipation'.

Later a chat about her enjoyment of Anne Rice's 'Vampire Chronicles', which she far preferred to the 'tacky Twilight series', allowed him to tell her about Anne Rice's BDSM books, under her nom de plume Anne Rampling. After reading them, she was shocked at how people would want such a life. But that allowed a long back and forth on the power of submission and the commitment to a dominant that channelled pain and service into gratification and security for the submissive.

She derided '50 Shades of Grey' as middle age women's porn, which opened the door to her reading 'The Story of O'. It was only afterwards in response to her intrigued disbelief, that he told her it was written by a woman as a series of letters to her lover, showing the thoughts of a woman embracing the allure and indirect power of complete submission.

It wasn't a significant jump from there to her reading erotic stories on non-consent and rape sites and finding herself stimulated at the thoughts. All through this process, he groomed her and supported her own discoveries, never pushing too hard, but always pushing her onwards. And now here they were, she having followed her passion at his encouragement in coming to the island, despite all sensible considerations and her embryonic instincts telling her not to.

Watching her browse through the shelves of the bookshop, her gorgeous slender frame accentuated by the sundress, he reflected on that educational journey. He basked in the enjoyment he had gained in moulding her naïve sensibilities into an acquiescent dependent young woman, pleasantly surprised at how quickly he had been able to push her boundaries in ways that more mature women wouldn't accept. He smiled imperceptibly at the thought of her hidden nipple rings and the further trials he planned to put her through, to complete the process of turning her into his obedient submissive sex-toy.

He bought the books she selected that day, intentionally supporting her freedom to choose, in the expectation of her complete surrender to him later. But it pleased him to see a highly rated dark erotic novel in amongst the expected classics she had chosen.

He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked, pulling her close, towering over her and almost smothering her with his strength. On the way out of the mall, he detoured, pulling her into a jewellery store to buy a neck chain that he seemed to have already selected.

When he put it around her neck the solid gold chain felt cool against her sunburned skin and the twirled knotted gold pendant hung heavily on her chest, drawing attention down to the gentle swell her pert mounds. Clasping it closed and gently caressing her shoulders, he whispered in her ear. "This is for being such a brave girl today. We'll both enjoy it."