Chapter 9

The self-driving golf cart dropped the four of us off at The Strip. There were eight buildings. Four twelve story towers and four four story office blocks. The towers over looked a brick paved plaza with a beautiful and elaborate fountain. There were women in sexy and elegant dresses everywhere. An older man chased three near teenagers around in the magnificent fountain.

We did not meet the dress code. Three cameras triggered lights on our dashboard. We took an immediate left. We were sent behind the southeast tower and towards the eastmost office block. The dresses were professional over here. Catering vans lined a loading bay. Two helicopters sat on the roof. We pulled up to broad white double doors. Aesthetic Services was in gold over the doors.

“I’ll call Olivia, tell her we’re getting ready.” Shani kissed me and climbed out of the front seat. Rena waited for me to unbuckle and stand. Ellie swung from the canopy and landed in front of me.

“You’re going to pretend to hate it here!” She squealed.

“She’s not wrong,” Shani laughed. She witnessed Ellie grab my right arm. I offered my left. Shani took Rena’s right arm.

“Mmmm,” smiled the lesbian. They led the way through the white doors.

We entered into a neat white tiled lobby with two big wooden information desks on either side. A bank of elevators sat between them and corridors headed along the outside wall. Shani walked over to the left desk; I almost followed her but Ellie pulled me right.

“We need to be dressed for Chez Shan-Marie,” Ellie told the girl. “Brian needs a shower and a shave.”

“Really?” I felt my jaw. I must’ve shaved that morning. Pre-blackout Brian wore a beard out of disinterest.

“Excellent,” replied the receptionist. She was tall and wearing a white skirt-suit over a white blouse with a white kerchief. It seemed excessive to me. “Bethany’s waiting for him and 2C. Would you like to go together or--”

“We’re on a timetable.” Shani walked up at my right shoulder. “I’ll take him. Rena can have Ellie.”

“Aww, poop.” Ellie smiled and pushed me into Shani. We walked to the elevator and rode it up a floor. White floors again. Hardwood walls. Fluorescent lights. It was a very nice building, but so much more utilitarian than everything else I had seen since I had arrived. Maybe not the industrial kitchen at Casa de Tanner.

“I named a restaurant after you?” I smiled as I followed Shani. She beamed and her hair bounced as she looked back over her shoulder.

“Who else?” She grinned.

“I knew this girl in elementary school, Allie Perkins. She was a--”

“There’s a coffee shop named Allie Perkins, it’s often your first stop when you land.” Shani laughed. I blushed all the way to my stupid ears. I was such a dork.

2C was nailed in gold onto a red door. I followed Shani through. It was a hairdresser’s studio.

“Oh my God! Mr Tanner!” Shrieked the redhead spinning around in the client’s chair. She wobbled out to her dizzy feet. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“This is Bethany.” Shani greeted her. “She’s a cosmetician out of New York. Straight out of college, I believe.”

“Yeah, not from your part of New York though. I’m from Albany.” She murmured. She was a pretty girl. It was striking that I saw each girl as beautiful. There weren’t any plain janes on the island. There was nothing normal to compare them to. I figured with no average baseline I’d grow to see exemplary as ordinary. Yet, they continued to look beautiful.

Bethany was about 20 with long dark red hair. She wore glasses and that was something I hadn’t seen all day. I liked girls in glasses. She wore work clothes, a white smock coat over jeans and sneakers. I hadn’t seen sneakers until now either, let alone full pants. She was hot, but somehow homey. I smiled.

“It’s a pleasure. I’m--”

“A shave and a full wash.” Shani ordered, “We’ll be wearing black tie and they’re sending our clothes up.”

“Oh wow,” She took a deep breath, “I’ve not ... Oh my God!”

Her cheeks burned with fire. Her red painted fingernails drummed out strange rhythms on the hem of her coat. She licked her lips and tried to force eye contact. She almost smiled. She only looked away for a flicker. Shani grabbed my shorts and dragged them down. I felt powerful for being pantsed in front of the girl. This was a welcome change. The only other time I could remember it happening was fifth grade being bullied in front of Allie Perkins.

“That’s really a penis.” She stated with insane nervousness.

“You’ve never seen one?” I smirked.

“I made Harry--I always had the lights off--I--”

“Are you going to be able to do this?” Shani glowered.

“The shave will be perfect.” Bethany straightened and amassed unseen confidence. “I don’t know about the washing.”

“You better learn. You might be spending days at the Castle or The Waterfront.” Shani used it as a threat. I considered stopping, but Bethany pushed away her blush. She let the natural color suffuse her cheeks. I hadn’t noticed her light freckles until now.

“I’ll be the best I can be.” She smiled a bright, honest smile. So much nicer than the false customer service smiles I’d expect from a hairdresser. “C’mon, have a seat.”

Let’s fast forward the fumbling attempts at flirtation I tried with Bethany. She was about as skilled at talking to men, to me, as I was talking to women, to her. It was a relief. Shani was not impressed but I was having a good time. I had never had a straight shave before. Two years, three months, blackout and living like a God, with his money and more. I could never honestly say I had never again. I grew morose as she brushed away my face and applied balm to my cheeks.

“Good, let’s go to the shower.” Shani returned from the door where she had hung up two plastic covered sets of formal wear on a coat rack. Bethany flashfried red. I took her hand and stood up on my own. She was shaking so I kept a grip on her hand.

Shani gave me a warm knowing smile as I lead the redhead after the pregnant woman beyond the back door. A wide glass boxed shower stood next to a reclining chair in front of a sink. Bethany led me over and sat me down.

“Do you have a preference of shampoo or--”

“Something without much of a scent,” Shani ploughed over Bethany’s customer service. “We’re dining with Olivia tonight.”

“Oh! Of course!” Bethany beamed. It was strange, sitting naked on a reclining chair while a young woman set to washing my hair and Shani scrutinized the scene. Ellie had taken to sharing in the excess quite well. Shani was more demanding. I worried about her.

“You OK?”

“I’m doing much better than I’m letting on!” Bethany answered my question for Shani. “I’m just more than a little starstruck and--” She whimpered quiet before she swallowed air and went searching for her smile. What she found was half-tilted and manic. “You have a very big cock.”

Bethany was not experienced. That was more than obvious. The smile that hit me like a speeding truck didn’t care. I smirked, at Shani, who rolled her eyes. Screw her! But first the redhead. My erection solidified itself. Her ministrations on my hair went haywire for several seconds.

It feels good. Fingers running through my hair, massaging my scalp. I ran my hand up the inside of her jeans. Fuck Island, despite being too warm for jeans outside of the air conditioning of the building, demanded tight, form fitting denim. Bethany was wearing a looser fit. Her muscles were tight through the fabric.

“That’s--We’re all done here Master Tanner ... Mistress Tann--Ah!” Bethany screamed when I climbed inside her thighs and massaged her cunt. She refused to collapse but grabbed the edge of the sink with both hands.

“We’ll hold off on me, that erection is in need of your expertise.” Shani said.

“OK! OK!” She grabbed my wrist with both hands but didn’t push me away. She didn’t pull me in tighter. I had the run of her and she was telling me she accepted that. “I don’t know, a blowjob or--”

“He needs a shower before getting dressed.” Shani sounded impatient. Bethany was going down on her shitlist. I quite liked the redhead.

“Master Tanner, you’ll have to get up...”

“He doesn’t have to do anything, this is your job.” Shani countered.

“I could, I could just mount him here?” She asked. I was reclined back far enough to lay my skull in a sink. My erection stood up like I was eighteen again. I turned my head to Shani.

“Besides the Sisyphos, what do we make for recreational use?” I smirked.

“We produce a series of mild psychedelics for the Dutch and a few other pharmaceutically liberal countries. We have a wide array of marijuana patents.” Shani shrugged. “I’m pretty sure boner pills are the only drug you indulge in any more. Maybe a little caffeine.”

“I’m ready to do it.” Bethany was whispering to herself as a mantra. I turned up to her. She still had one hand on my wrist and I was rubbing her sex with no precision but she was almost melting into a pile of goop. Her other hand was shaking at the top clasp of her smock.

“Goddammit! Sluts!” Shani muttered and strode across the room. There is an intimidation that only a charging pregnant woman can muster. It startled Bethany right off of my fingers. I took the opportunity to stand behind Shani.

“Get this off.” Shani demanded pulling open the clasps of the smock. Bethany undid the top and Shani the other four. Bethany shrugged it off of her shoulders. “Jesus Christ, you come to Fuck Island and you dress like a frumpy homebody.”

“I still can’t get over the name Fuck Island,” I smirked at Bethany who nodded reflected disbelief.

“Why’d you sign up in the first place?”

“With a $100,000 I could start my own hair shop without leaning on mom and dad.” She worried.

“I would’ve signed up just to travel.” I smiled. Bethany smiled back but that disappeared as Shani whipped Bethany’s t-shirt up and off of her shoulders.

“Get your bra.” Shani demanded as she unbuttoned, unzipped, and dragged down her jeans. The hairdresser wore a rather bland set of green underwear. Her medium sized breasts only jiggled a little as she unhooked the bra.