The Propaganda Club Ch. 01

Jillian joined in with the others, bouncing the ball around and joining in their playful banter, and in only about ten minutes Aiko came down to the beach, in a yellow bikini much more conservative than Jillian's, her waifish figure not so waifish after all, not as much as it was well-toned and clearly hard-earned: she had only very small breasts, but had abs and thighs so clearly defined Jillian wondered if she'd been a gymnast or something of the sort. She must at least get a thorough workout daily, she thought.

Aiko joined in, but was much less sociable than Jillian and Erica were, and once or twice fumbled over her sentences, so a lot of the guys seemed to focus their attention primarily on those two and not her, although a few of them, Brad, Tom, and that long-haired guy whose name she really should learn, thought Jillian, were always conscious to keep her part of the fun.

As the day wore on, they decided to leave the water and play a bunch of games on the beach, the girls having to split between the teams to keep things even. Soon enough, Aiko became a crowd favourite, being clearly more athletic than either Jillian or Erica, and they smiled and laughed, and even picked her up to parade her round in the air after a particularly good shot.

She didn't steal all of the attention, though. Because now that they were out of the water, the guys got a much clearer view of Jillian and Erica than they would ever have got in the water. Erica in particular, who whenever she ran made those big tits of hers bounce so much Jillian couldn't help but notice at least two pairs of eyes on Erica's chest at any given time.

As people tired out they went back, starting with Aiko and a few of the other guys, and the rest of them stretched out on their towels on the beach. Jillian laid down next to Erica, and then Tom and Brad laid down their towels to join them.

'I almost don't want to lie down,' said Brad. 'The view when I'm standing is unbelievable.'

'Thanks,' said Tom.

The other three of them laughed, and Tom laid his head back behind his sunglasses with a very smug looking grin on his face.

'How proud of yourself are you for making that joke?' asked Erica.

'Envy doesn't suit you, sweetheart,' he said. Jillian could've sworn he winked at Erica behind his sunglasses, for some reason.

'Hmph. Actually, speaking of, how well does this bikini suit Jillian?' Erica asked.

'Oh don't - ' Jillian started, but it was too late for that.

'Come on, she looks hot, right? Hailey had to arrange a replacement bikini for her, but how well did she pick?'

'Oh, leave the poor thing alone, Erica,' said Tom, while Brad sat up on his towel and looked over at Jillian.

'Jillian, you forget Tom,' said Brad. 'He's just trying to play down how hard he's been staring at you all day. Erica's right, you two look fucking hot.' He looked straight at her as he said that, making very intentional eye contact, and somehow, just meeting his eyes triggered something between Jillian's thighs. She swallowed, her mouth slightly open as she did so. And she knew that Brad noticed, and he gave a slow smile, as if he'd won something.

'Told you,' Erica said, and flicked her hair back, lying down again, and stretching herself out.

Jillian felt a strange thrill of pride. The fact that she could - no, that she was hot enough - to catch their eyes, even next to Erica, those perfect tits she had, that hourglass figure, even next to her, she was hot enough to compete with that. She looked down at herself as discreetly as she could. She got halfway through, before she caught herself, bringing her hands up to feel her own breasts, on the bigger side of average, and nicely shaped, but to know they were enough to draw attention even next to Erica. And from guys like this, a pair of white men so statuesque they might as well stand next to the pillars by the entranceway and pass themselves off as Greek gods.

'Well,' said Jillian, 'good.'

Erica smirked. 'I like your new attitude,' she said, and smoothed out her bikini bottoms by running her thumbs just underneath. Jillian didn't quite manage to avert her eyes in time, and saw a tiny flash of black just under the bikini as it lifted up for barely half a second, right on Erica's mound. She turned her head quickly away, as if to apologise, although nobody saw, and she thought Erica probably wouldn't care. She rolled over onto her front.

But then she thought: what was that? Was that a tattoo on her mound? No, of course it wasn't, she realised: that was stupid. She must have just kept things limited to a very small little tuft of hair, which would be the small little area of black she saw. The sun was getting to her and ruining her brain.

She felt a hand come down on her exposed ass cheek. 'I have to be honest, Jillian, I am pretty envious of this.'

'There's a shocker,' said Tom.

'Play nice, everyone,' said Brad.

'That's okay, I feel the same way about Erica,' said Jillian.

'Aww, thanks,' was her reply.

They lay there for a while, their skin drying off, before Tom got up. 'All right,' he said. 'One more game, or time to go in, you think?'

Neither of the girls were animated enough for that suggestion.

'Well that's pretty unanimous,' Tom said. 'Are you at least going to stand, or will we have to carry you?'

'Oh, fine, I'm getting up,' Erica sighed, and pushed herself up off the ground.

For whatever reason, Jillian stayed put on the towel, and instead only rolled over and grumbled like a lazy child refusing to get out of bed in the morning. She half opened her eyes, and saw Brad and Tom looking down at her, and locked her eyes, only for a moment, on Brad's, before letting them drift down over his almost Spartan chest, something in the back of her mind chastising her for being so brazen, for being such a slut right there on the beach in front of at least two other people who might very well notice what she was doing right now, but that part of her mind was so far in the distance she could barely hear those thoughts. The only part of her mind with any sway right now had no time for thoughts, only the now-rapid beating of her heart and the swelling and wetness between her legs, under those too-small and too-tight bikini bottoms that she knew left almost nothing of her to the imagination, which she knew, from the way in which she was lying, and the way in which she'd wriggled around on the towel and how she could feel the fabric between her thighs were right now giving her such an obvious camel toe that her bare pussy might as well be completely exposed.

'All right then,' said Brad. 'You forced my hand.' And he bent down and in only a few adroit motions pulled Jillian up just enough to slip an arm underneath her, one under her thighs, and then as he stood up he carried her with her, and slung her over his shoulder.

Jillian squealed and stiffened up, straightening right up in the air so that she felt like she was standing ten feet tall over the sand, before Brad's hand lightly patted her hip.

'You had your chance,' he laughed, 'We're doing it the hard way now.'

'Oh - okay ... ' she breathed. At those words, a whole host of thoughts rushed into her head.

Erica grabbed both her own and Jillian's towel, and from behind Tom, walking in the rear of the group, winked at Jillian up on Brad's shoulder.

He carried her like a trophy, up through the sand dunes, and back past the pillars through to the common room, where he almost dumped her down on the couch, cushions there to soften her fall and even bounce her back up a little. Jillian felt herself going back through the air, before hitting the pillows behind her, and then saw Brad standing over her, still entirely shirtless, with a crooked smile on his face, and she could only look up at him, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide open, chest heaving up and down as she gasped for breath, and an almost insatiable desire to have him close his hand around her throat and tear the bikini off her body and not let her escape until he had used her like his very own slave girl - and at that moment she suddenly realised that Erica had been right: she wanted her body to be on display like this.

'Oh my God,' said Erica, 'look at what you've done to the poor thing.' And she turned away with a smile on her face.

'She'll recover,' said Brad, and as he walked past her, ruffled her hair.

Then they were gone, and Jillian lay on the couch in silence. She waited for a few minutes, then took herself up to her room, and rubbed her poor little clit furiously until she came to thoughts of Brad with one hand pushing down on the back of her head as he pounded into her from behind. And then she lay there, wondering what on earth had got into her.

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She thought she'd be embarrassed about what had happened when she saw them again, but when she did, none of them even brought it up. Not even a joke about it. She thought she saw the guys casting glances her way every so often, but maybe that was just the cut of the top she was wearing, or the shorts she had on. Hailey came to eat dinner with them, and even paused by Jillian to check that her replacement bikini had been fine, and Jillian said it was, and thanked her. Hailey squeezed her shoulder as if to say 'you're welcome' and carried on to talk with everyone else there, and everything was just fine. And completely normal. There was even an Asian guy who came down to dinner, who was in great shape, as was typical for the guys on the island, but Jillian suddenly noticed him for being the first of the guys she'd seen here who wasn't the normal tall, strapping white man.

What was it here? She wondered what the experiment was, although she was forbidden from asking anyone that question, so all she could do was wonder. How could an experiment even play out with this many people involved, and not a single one of them be aware of how it worked? And it was all so nice here. It really was as if they were all on holiday, just letting themselves go, letting it all go.

It all seemed so nice, didn't it? Try not to blame Jillian too much for how it all ended: at least, blame her no more than you would blame an ant for failing to lift the weight of a mountain coming down on its head.

That night, and for the rest of that week, and almost all the nights after that, she returned to her bed, and put the headphones on.