Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Once inside, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to slightly darker interior. When they do, I let out a loud gasp because the space—more like one massive room—screams wealth. This is no rustic cabin. Instead, modern chandeliers hang from double-height ceilings, which cast a seductive, soft glow. Thick, heavy couches are strategically scattered around different nooks, creating unwalled breakout rooms within the larger one. Fluffy pillows, some as big as beds, dominate the tiled floor. Some sort of food smells absolutely delicious as it wafts from tall tables along a far wall.
Yet it’s the men that catch my gaze immediately because they’re absolutely gorgeous. There are about twenty men seated on plush couches arranged in a circle, each one more attractive than the last. Their hair varies in color, but their musculature doesn’t. These men are ripped and bronzed, like they spend every day outdoors in heavy labor. They have wide chests, powerful arms, and thick thighs barely covered by their loincloths. A few of the men smile knowingly, already beckoning to the girls.
My attention finally comes to rest on Trek, who’s sitting calmly on a huge seat at the edge of the circle.
“Trek!” I whisper loudly, the sound carrying across the cavernous room. Every man in the room turns to look at me and then toward Trek, their expressions full of amusement.
For his part, Trek looks equal parts infuriated and cool. He runs a hand through his thick black hair and chuckles. That’s when I notice that he, too, is mostly naked, the loincloth barely covering his huge cock.
“As usual, Red has decided to speak first,” Trek says in a wry tone. “Gentlemen, this is Posey. One of the ladies from our new crop.”
“You did a great job,” a blonde man says, his gaze never leaving us. “They’re beautiful.”
“More than beautiful,” a dark man with black eyes growls. “Luscious. Delicious. Irresistible.”
By now, the men are beckoning our small group of women forward.
“Come, sweetheart,” one man says, his tone full of genuine appreciation. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“Welcome to Mirago,” another one chimes in, kissing one of the women’s hands in greeting. “Relax and get comfortable. We’re only getting started.”
Of course, my fellow beauty pageant competitors waste no time. They prance forward in their high heels, seating themselves on the furry rugs at the men’s feet. Kelly is even bold enough to perch right in Kixson’s lap, one hand trailing suggestively over his ridge as she giggles playfully.
But I don’t get it. How can these women be so acquiescing? We don’t even know what we’re here for yet. As if in answer, Trek stands suddenly and holds up his hands, calling for attention. All eyes turn toward him without hesitation. “Ladies, are you ready to serve the men of Mirago?” His voice carries across the room, deep and dominating.
The other women nod enthusiastically and let out a series of delighted giggles.
“Then you know what to do. If I haven’t made it clear yet, then let me be direct now. You’re here to please my brothers, and to hold nothing back in bringing them pleasure. We, in turn, will bring you pleasure as well, and you’ll live in the lap of luxury while on the island. Welcome again. Your service begins now.”
With that, Trek nods and the men and women in the room immediately begin to engage in debauchery. Within seconds, the men’s loincloths are off, revealing that every single one of them has a knotted dick, some even with two or three bulges at the base. They’re huge, without exception, and I gasp observing the girthy thickness.
Meanwhile, my friends mewl and slide onto the men’s laps. Within seconds, the scene lapses into a full-blown orgy, low moans ringing out in the room. What the hell? Why was I the only person who didn’t know about this? No one told me that we were coming to Mirago to be sex toys for a group of men. Realization strikes: the beauty pageant was a front. It was a recruitment event masquerading as a competition. The end goal was always to recruit sassy, beautiful, willing women to have sex with the men of Mirago, and obviously Trek succeeded a thousand percent.
But I also know that I can’t do this. I can’t be here, letting other men stroke my curves as Trek buries himself in other women. I have to get out of here.
I turn to flee but Trek is somehow in front of me, his expression unreadable. He grabs me by each arm, his grip almost painful.
“Headed out, Red?” he asks in a lazy voice.
“You didn’t tell me,” I hiss angrily, pulling at his grip. “I had no idea that we were going to be playthings for your friends!”
He shrugs.
“I did tell you. I announced it, but you evidently weren’t listening.”
“You said we were going to be hostesses!”