Green Light

After doling out much deserved, and highly pleasurable punishments to the two young interlopers, I reclined with Tabitha and Tracy on the lounges to bask naked in the tropical noontime sun. Tracy lay prone beside me, propped up on her elbows and kicking her legs.

Her gorgeous hazel eyes, radiant andalusite flecked with pyrite, moved slowly over my torse and pelvis as she monitored my recuperation. The bridge of her nose, and the tops of her chubby cheeks were slightly redder than the rest of her face, evidence of the long hours she’d spent in the sun. A pair of faint tan lines, partially covered by shoulder-length tawny hair, carried over her softly sloping shoulders and fanned out over her tiny pale breasts, which hung like cones between her arms.

When her eyes met mine, she realized I’d been looking at her. “What?” she asked, sounding insecure.

“You’re super cute.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to the compliment other than to flash an embarrassed smile and move her eyes away to look out over the endless horizon.

“What’s it going to be like on the island?” Tabitha asked from the other lounge. She lay on her back with her head turned, shielding her eyes from the sun, her small breasts forming shallow mounds atop her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, are there going to be other people there?”

“Nope. Just us,” I said, and she seemed disappointed by my response. “Why? Something wrong?”

“No,” she said, emphasizing the word with a slight shake of her head.

“Would you prefer if there were other people there?”

She shrugged. “It would be cool if my friends could come.”

Before Gethsemane, Tabitha had attended a private, all-girls school in Minneapolis called Talitha Christian Academy. Although she was an attractive young athlete who got along well with her classmates, she wasn’t especially popular. She had a small, yet close circle of friends, but her strict, religious father prevented her from participating in most social activities outside of school.

“Maybe next semester,” I said, meaning it as a joke, but Tabitha’s face brightened.

“Seriously?”

I laughed, and almost said no.

The idea for Gethsemane had originally come to me after reading about Christian therapeutic residential boarding facilities. Fundamentalist reeducation and indoctrination bootcamps for troubled teens, often located in remote regions outside of the US, in places like Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean. Places where administrators could operate in jurisdictions with shockingly few regulations and little to no oversight.

With the help of an unscrupulous trust and estate attorney who specialized in setting up corporate entities in foreign tax havens for wealthy clients, I was able to create a highly secretive, yet one-hundred percent legal non-profit structure that could open bank accounts and operate in any legal jurisdiction. The purpose of the academy may have technically been a fraud, but the multitude of legal entities underpinning it were all perfectly legitimate. I even planned to file Form 990s at the end of the year.

The yearlong process of setting up the academy’s business structure and recruiting the girls had been both stressful and mentally taxing, and not something I ever once considered replicating. It was always intended to be a one-time endeavor. A personal challenge of sorts, just to see if it could be done. Tabitha’s sudden interest in a follow on semester, however, had me reconsidering.

Could I do this again?

I wasn’t confident that I could. Just thinking about starting the recruiting process all over again made my blood pressure spike. Plus, I would need to start sooner rather than later if I wanted to be ready for Spring. After investing so much time and work already, the only thing I wanted to think about right now was laying in the sun and fucking as many of these beautiful young girls as I could for the next four months.

What came next could be a question left for another day. Just because I didn’t feel like answering it right away, however, didn’t mean I couldn’t do a little market research.

“I don’t know,” I said noncommittally. “Why? Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“If my friends could be here too?” she clarified. “Totally!”

I turned to Tracy. “What about you?”

She seemed far less enthused. “I guess so.”

Tracy was even less popular at school than Tabitha. In fact, she was a bit of a social outcast. Partially because of her crippling shyness, which made it difficult for her to easily make new friends, but mostly due to the unsavory company she kept. Tracy’s two closest friends were the only lesbians at the exclusive, one hundred student religious private school she attended in Sausalito.

All three were constantly harassed by the other students for their perceived sexual deviancy. They had initially sought solace and comfort with one another, which eventually developed into a close friendship with a few side benefits. According to text messages I’d read off Tracy’s phone, the three young girls spent quite a lot of time together in Tracy’s bedroom after school, licking and fingering each other’s pussies.

“You don’t sound too sure,” I said.

She thought it over for a moment. “I kind of like the way it is now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said, struggling to articulate her thoughts. “I don’t like it as much when there’s a lot of people around. This is way better.”

“What’s better?”

Despite her natural timidity, Tracy forced herself to look me in the eye when she said, “Being alone up here.”

I smiled at her. “I like it too.”

Her breathing suddenly quickened. “Is it okay if I suck your dick again?” she asked hastily, her voice so tiny and soft that I almost didn’t hear her.

The suddenness of the question caught me off guard, and I swallowed hard. “Do you want to?”

She nodded. “So much.”

That sweet, breathy voice of hers instantly roused my cock. As it began to swell, I glanced at Tabitha. “How about you?”

Tracy put her hand on my abs, and interjected before Tabitha could answer. “Is it okay if I do it by myself?” she asked, and when I looked at her, she quickly whispered, “Please, daddy?”