Paradise Obtained Ch. 12: Tasha

All characters in this story are over 18.

Paradise Obtained Chapter 12: Tasha

After the fright I had endured during my conquest of Megan, the rest of our stay in New York proved both profitable and enjoyable. On the commercial front, I got my business for hiring out my properties up and running and even managed to let out all four, albeit at a discounted autumn rate for the northern hemisphere ones. It was good to feel I was earning some income that was not directly in the gift of Albrecht Haller.

I was in regular conference calls to Ilse, Nikki, Kanako and Millie to make sure they would be able to cope with this new requirement on their time and energies. I need not have worried; all was in hand and going well. Meanwhile, the more complex work of setting up my addiction clinic was proceeding slowly through the necessary legal hoops here in New York.

On a more personal note, I had made one amendment to my new concubine; I had ordered Megan to dye her hair mahogany red. She had not considered this before, but my judgement proved sound. Her new hair colour did indeed highlight her beautiful green eyes. Megan was more pleased with the result than she had expected, and Georgia and Delilah were complimentary too.

If having a harem of two beautiful women with me had been pleasant, three was even more fun. Megan was keen to explore the curiosity she felt about sex with other girls and Delilah and Georgia were only too happy to oblige her. They proved excellent tutors. I, of course, got the double pleasure of observing her progress and being able to join in and chose whichever girl -- and whichever way of making love -- happened to appeal to me most at the time.

The women also were able to freely indulge in some enjoyable retail therapy, as Megan's new salary working for me greatly exceeded her previous income. Georgia and Delilah were not averse to accompanying her on lengthy tours of the best clothes stores the Big Apple had to offer. As Georgia pointed out, they didn't want her to feel lonely and as such it was only being companionable to join in some purchasing.

I left them to it on those expeditions, preferring to keep an eye on my new businesses, but Megan, who had lived in New York for around eight months prior to our meeting her, also undertook the role of host and showed us all the classic tourist sights. Such tours by day were supplemented by evenings included fine dining, nightclubs and even the odd Broadway show, as well as a lot of sex of course.

Still, all good things come to an end and I needed to turn my attention to Haller's business, namely his request that I buy a property in the West Indies. Oddly enough, buying a private island in the Caribbean proved nothing like as difficult as I expected; in fact, we did the whole thing without leaving New York.

To my surprise, there are whole websites devoted to supplying someone with the odd $5m to spare with their own mini-islet kingdom. I got lucky, in that I found a very nice one that was going relatively cheap as the current owner, a celebrity who shall remain nameless for obvious reasons, was having a little local difficulty with investigations into tax evasion and money laundering, and had a pressing need to sell.

Even so the price was $4.5 million, still a tidy sum, but what I -- and Albrecht Haller, who signed off the deal -- got for it was superb. It was a small low island called Woody Cay, blessed with beautiful white sandy beaches that gave even Fiji a run for its money, and around a ten-minute boat ride from the south-eastern end of the island of St. Thomas.

Woody Cay had only a single building complex on it, so we would have it to ourselves, and that was modern and luxurious. The emphasis in the design was 'open and airy', with a good deal of glass evident, although I was assured that it was built to withstand a hurricane. There was a dock and boathouse, and all the utilities you might reasonably expect -- although no swimming pool, which was rendered unnecessary by the island having a sort of protected lagoon, safe from sharks and with crystal clear water.

My favourite parts were the flat room of the main building, which looked a wonderful area just to relax or sunbath, and the large veranda, adjacent to the main living room and overlooking the sea. There was even an underground living space that could, at a pinch, supply Delilah with a place for her sort of fun and games, although not with permanent equipment; the building just didn't lend itself to that sort of thing. Still, I wasn't too worried about that. Delilah always had her perfect dungeon in Romania.

*****

So, when Georgia, Delilah, Megan and I flew into the airport at Charlotte Amalie, the capital of the US Virgin Islands, it was not to start a search, but with the pleasure of visiting our latest home in mind. This didn't mean there wasn't work to do. For one thing, we had a potential manager to find -- which also meant the next member of my harem. Satisfyingly for me, this wasn't going to involve much effort on my part. I outlined my requirements to the girls and let them loose on finding their future harem sister.

The main criterion I gave them was that I hoped that they would find me a beauty of Afro-Caribbean descent, which shouldn't prove too difficult, since the majority of the population were of that origin. I trust I am not racist in my attitudes, I certainly try not to be, but one thing I am certain of is that I don't have any prejudice when it comes to beautiful women; I find them all hot, wherever they come from.

I also enjoy variety of looks and appearance. Therefore, the one fault I could find with my current wonderful and charming harem was that only Kanako didn't come from a European ethnic background. This seemed hardly a fair reflection of the glorious womanhood of the rest of humanity. I felt it was time to redress the scales a little.

I couldn't have given the three girls a mission more to their taste -- Delilah was practically salivating at the prospect -- and it was on only the third day after our arrival that my eager scouts reported back on potential success.

We were staying in the capital and, while pleasant enough, our hotel didn't quite measure up to the five-star luxury we had all grown accustomed to. As a result, the girls had taken to wandering the town looking for restaurants and bars that might be worth a visit as an alternative to the hotel's facilities. One of the places they liked to stop off at for refreshment was a Starbucks coffee house near the hotel.

As was normal when they arrived back from a day out, we had retired to my room for an orgy before dinner. Delilah and Megan were on the bed locked in a lesbian 69, taking their time over licking and playing with one another's pussies, being in no hurry to climax. Megan was still learning these arts, although she was an enthusiastic pupil and Delilah an expert teacher, so it wouldn't be long before she reached the standard expected of my harem.

I was lounging on a chair, naked, my erect cock being idly toyed with and stroked by Georgia who was sat on the floor next to me, one hand on my dick and the other between her legs as we watched the two girls on the bed. "Had any luck with the search?" I asked.

"Yes Master," my blonde PA replied. "I think we've found someone perfect. But you should come and see her for yourself and then, if you're happy, you should meet her."

"And who is this paragon?" I asked, giving a small moan of pleasure as Georgia switched to carefully stroking my balls.

"She's one of the baristas at the coffee house we like."

I was surprised, "Really? A barista? Starbucks sounds an unlikely place to find my next concubine."

Georgia half-turned away from the scene on the bed. I gazed down at her beautiful face. Her blue eyes looked back at me, sparkling with mischief. "Ah but Master, you haven't seen her yet. When you do you will see what I mean."

Then Georgia bent her head slightly and took my cock in her mouth and ran her tongue over the glans. I looked back up in at the bed, where Megan and Delilah's love making had increased in pace. I had a clear view of Delilah, who was on top, sliding two fingers into Megan's shaved cunt, which was slick with her own juices and her lover's saliva.

I closed my eyes and forgot all about potentially lovely baristas, while I lost myself in the erotic sensation of what Georgia was doing to my cock.

*****

The next day I consented to accompany them to the coffee bar. On the way Georgia explained, with occasional interjections from her friends, how they had got talking to a girl who worked there, whose name was Tasha Jones. It was she who had made the first move when she had been serving them, commenting on how rare it was to see three such beautiful girls together and mentioning, with obvious but wistful envy, the lovely designer clothes they were wearing.

My clever concubines had firstly told Tasha that she was every bit their match in beauty, which they told me was nothing more than the truth, and that they lived a jet-set lifestyle because they all worked for this amazing man called Matthew Mitchell. Further, they added that the wonderful Mr Mitchell was on the island even now, looking to recruit.

Tasha had been much taken with this thought and once she had got off shift had joined the girls for a more detailed discussion. As a result of their salesmanship, Tasha was now keen to meet me with a view to seeing whether she could join their number.

I listened to all this and asked the obvious question, "Wasn't she the slightest bit suspicious about why I only seem to employ hot girls?"

Georgia smiled at my description of her and the others, but said, "No. On the contrary she had a very good idea of what might be involved, or at least some of it. She is an intelligent and worldly girl, although she's only a year older than me, and she openly asked if we were all sleeping with you. We said yes we were and it was a lot of fun, although obviously we said nothing about being your slaves, Master."

"Umm... careful with the 'Master' stuff Georgia, we're walking down a busy street," I said, although in truth, no one was listening. On the other hand, they were looking. My three girls, who had dressed for the hot and humid Caribbean weather at this time of year in tight shorts and loose-fitting crop tops, were drawing admiring glances, especially from the male population. The girls didn't seem to mind, while I felt a frisson of pride that they were mine and wondered if any of those men felt envy for me. I hoped so. It was shallow of me I know, but good for the ego.

By this time, we had arrived at the coffee house. Georgia glanced in and then gave us the thumbs-up; Tasha was on duty. The four of us entered and found a table with a clear view of the serving area. The girls then went up to order their drinks -- I asked for a simple black Americano, as I actually like coffee and don't need a pound of sugar in it to disguise the taste. This allowed me time to get a good look at Tasha.

I will save my detailed description of Tasha Jones for when we met up later. Suffice to say that my first impression from a distance was highly favourable. She looked very attractive, but what struck me most was how she was brimming with life, even in what must have been a waring and dull job. I also thought that on her even her uniform looked decidedly sexy.

I noted that she brightened up on seeing my girls and that after a few moments conversation I was pointed out. I pretended not to notice. Soon enough my concubines returned with their drinks and mine. "So, what do you think, Matt?" Georgia asked.

"Very nice. You have done well," I said. "What do you make of her, Delilah?" I asked this knowing that, given the way her mind worked, I would get an assessment of Tasha's sexual potential.

"Hot as fuck, Matt, and experienced too, I would guess; certainly not a virgin. I reckon she's straight though. She studied you with interest, but didn't give us more attention than you would expect. Not a sub, nor a domme, I think. One of those people -- like these two here -- who isn't much into that sort of thing." Delilah sounded a little disappointed by this last point.

"Don't worry about her being straight," I said. "I can change that. I can't have my harem not fully appreciating one another's company, after all."

Delilah gave a leer of anticipation, while Megan giggled with some embarrassment. She was still new to this, although enjoying herself with her two sisters enormously and very keen to meet the others in my harem as soon as possible.

"Like I said, she wants to talk to you Matt," added Georgia.

"Good. Go over and invite her to meet me at the hotel at 7.30 tonight. Tell her we'll talk on the hotel veranda, nice and public, so nothing for her to worry about."

Georgia gave me a steady look, "Well nothing until you decide to hypnotise her and turn her into you sex slave," she said.

"And what, I may ask, is bad about that?" I said looking round at the three women.

Delilah answered for all of them, "Nothing at all... Master."

*****

Tasha was punctually on time, which was a mark in her favour as I hate being made to wait. I had already realised that Tasha Jones was hot from my view across the room in the coffee house. Close up everything looked just as good; indeed even better. It helped of course that she was no longer in barista uniform, but in a very nice light-blue cotton dress, sufficiently figure hugging to show off her curves without being too indiscreet. It was a classic and classy choice.

I knew from Georgia, that Tasha was 21. She was of medium height, being around five foot seven inches, and was certainly carrying no fat, although there was a certain robustness to her figure. In particular, Tasha has magnificent hips and buttocks, with a marked feminine sway to them. To walk behind her and admire her bottom wiggle is a true delight for an admirer of female legs and bums such as me. Compared to her hips, Tasha's waist looked tiny, so that although she was not especially large breasted, the effect was to give her a stunningly curved figure.

Better even than her body was her looks. Close up, I realised she was beyond pretty; she had model levels of beauty. Her dark brown hair was cut short and matched her eyes, which sparkled with life and energy. Her skin was a lighter shade of brown, her lips full and kissable, her nose aquiline, and she had fine cheekbones. She wore minimal make-up and very large silver hoop ear-rings. I was finding hard not to drool.

Finally, and perhaps even more important than her physical appearance, was her personality. I found she possessed a pleasing directness of character, leaning more toward a rational approach than the emotional and given to saying exactly what she meant, with no prevarication or concern that it might offend. In this, the member of my current harem she most resembled was probably Millie and it was no surprise to me when those two later became good friends, but the sort of friends who happy to tease and insult one another freely without offence.

This appealed to me as I like variety as much in personality as in looks: Georgia, honest but diplomatic; Delilah always holding some secret to herself; shy and respectful Kanako; Nikki the dreamer; brash and bold Millie; quietly calm, respectable and nice Ilse. Clever and independently minded Megan and the straightforwardness of Tasha were pleasing additions to the mix, and I looked forward to getting to know them better.

On Tasha's arrival I politely showed her to a table on the hotel veranda and so commenced one of the odder recruitments to my harem; not the weirdest, since nothing could beat Nikki's strange fantasises of being seduced by a vampire, but still, being subjected to a kind of reverse job interview where Tasha was sounding me out about joining my harem was distinctly peculiar. However, after the near disaster that was my attempt on Megan in New York, it was very pleasant to have my next conquest present herself to me so willingly.

Of course, there was still an element of deception in play. Georgia, Delilah and Megan had described the delights of our millionaire lifestyle, seasoned with descriptions of my wonderfulness, but they had neglected to mention anything about having your mind altered, or becoming my slave, albeit a pampered one with a degree of free-will left intact.

I asked Tasha what she wanted to drink and was told white rum and Coke, so I ordered one too, and then we took the drinks out onto the hotel terrace outside the bar. The sun had already set, having vanished rapidly, as it does in the tropics, but the heat of the day was still radiating back into a nearly cloudless sky and it was pleasantly warm.

"So, Tasha, how can I help you?" I asked, and smiled. It wasn't difficult to do so; she was a very beautiful young woman and, as I suspect is clear by now, I have a weakness for those.

"Mr Mitchell..." she began.

"Please, I insist you call me Matt," I said.

She smiled too. "Ok then, Matt. Your, umm, friends... colleagues? I'm not sure what you call them. Anyway, they talked to me about you and them. I had seen the expensive clothes they were wearing, and of course staying at this place isn't cheap, and they all looked so beautiful. So, we got chatting when I served them, and then again afterward and I asked them about it. And they explained they all worked for you, and so I started to wonder whether... I'm sorry, I'm gabbling. Bit nervous."

"No, no, don't worry. Just tell me what's on your mind," I said, calmly, trying to relax her.

"Ok, well, to be honest, I was wondering if you had a vacancy. You see, these islands are just a small place really, a backwater. I want to see the world and enjoy it. I want to have exciting friends, visit exotic places and -- yes -- have some money in my pocket. I know I'm a bright girl. I left high school with top grades. I think I'm quite pretty too. And yet the only work I can get here is as a barista. If I stay my life is going nowhere. You see why I asked to talk to you?"

"And you would like me to offer you a job?" I asked.

"Yes, the girls said you were buying a place here and you like to recruit a local to run it for you, but that person also gets to travel and the pay is very good. I could do that. I've brought my CV if you want to see it... and... and, well, I couldn't help noticing how pretty your... umm... employees are. Can I ask... do you sleep with them?"

I knew she had already asked the girls about that, so honesty was the best policy, "You asked earlier what I call my girls. Well, all the terms you just said are right. They are my employees and my colleagues but also my friends and, yes, my lovers. But even that doesn't cover all aspects of our relationship. It's... complicated." Now wasn't the moment to tell her they were my slaves too.

"I see. Look, I don't want you to think I am some kind of slut, but to get the life I want I would be prepared to sleep with you. I mean I'd rather you paid me lots of money just to work for you, but I realise that's unlikely. Why would you, when there are loads of better qualified people out there? The way I see it, there are plenty of women who make a living out of their looks and their bodies -- actresses, models and so on -- and no one calls them whores. So why shouldn't I use mine that way?" She sounded defensive, as if I might disapprove.

"There is nothing wrong with your ambition, and I can tell you that I am very interested in your offer," I said. "But you misunderstand the nature of my relationship with my girls. They are not 'whores', as you put it, either. They don't have sex with me because I pay them, but because they love me."

Tasha looked at me sceptically. "That's not possible. Georgia told me that you have seven women working for you in senior positions. There is no way that seven women could love the same man. For one thing jealousy and resentment would come in; if I really loved a man that I wouldn't want to share him with one other woman, never mind six!"