Welcome to Isla Paradiso
published December 13, 2020
Kyle’s travelling all the way to the Adriatic for a summer gig at this reclusive resort. A hodge-podge of other men from all over Europe are there too, but new employee orientation takes a really unexpected turn.
The airport had a vaguely 20th Century reek all around it. Concrete, steel, some glass when a remodel had rolled through at a point when shatterproof became a thing but not after solar was a thing. Kyle hadn’t really been much for travel before he started backpacking across Europe, but this place took the cake for run-down, left-behind relics. The plane that had deposited him here was nice enough - power in the seats, a little legroom at least - but the crew had been in a hurry to move things along. The name of the place was basically unpronounceable though everyone spoke reasonably clear English, thankfully. After collecting his backpack from the creaky carousel, he wandered around until he found a young man in a linen shirt holding a placard with his name. He was ushered over to a stretch of seats with a few other men - mostly backpackers like him, it seemed, and one or two people who looked like they’d dressed up for job interviews at a nice restaurant or a bar. One or two were puffing on ecigs but everyone seemed either exhausted or radiated the fuck-off vibe of people who are travelling and didn’t want to socialize. After a few trickled in after him - one he recognized from his flight, the others having apparently arrived from the transit terminal attached to the airport - the placard dude ushered them all to a waiting minibus where they were all crammed in together, their baggage on their laps or in a dubiously small trunk behind the last row of seats.
Over the course of the car ride most of the men swapped cigarettes, introduced themselves, or napped. Kyle didn’t smoke but didn’t mind talking to the other guys on his row - one was from Spain, named Antonio, and the other was from England, named Connor. The last guy in the row had fallen asleep too quickly to give his name. It came out that both were backpacking through Europe when they got offers similar to Kyle’s - expenses-paid trip out here to an Island resort, two-week stipend to help with some light work during the tourist season, with the promise of no more than twenty hours a week so he could enjoy at least a little of the scenery. The offer had been from a dude at a club in Berlin for Connor, a bartender in Rome for Antonio, and a guy who’d bought a round for the table in Marseille for Kyle. A few other people chimed in with similar stories, though three of the guys were more local - two Hungarians and a guy from a place that sounded like “lube in ya” which led to a round of laughter among the native English speakers. They stopped for gas, convenience store food, and a stretch of the legs after an hour or two, and by then it was getting late. The hodge-podge network of spare batteries and chargers made their rounds as the signal got spotty, with even the radio guttering out from time to time as they wound there way through what seemed to be countryside.
The minivan woke up in stages as bumpy roads turned into cobblestone at a fairly small port town framed by sea cliffs. Everyone got out to take a piss and stretch after a night cramped up together; nothing to be done about everyone smelling like sweat and cigarettes. The linen-clad driver was clearly tired from the overnight too, and shook hands with a jacked guy in a t-shirt who waved at them all as the driver headed off into town. Eventually they got the message and everyone extracted their things from the van and dragged themselves down to the port, where a largish boat was waiting. The middle seemed to be full of crates of some sort, ferried on by the aging forklift next to the ramp before they’d arrived. Hard to tell, but it looked like crates of food, clothes, supplies - unsurprising, given how far out they were from civilization. The all settled in, naturally clumping in groups from the benches of the van. Their sleeping comrade turned out to be Thor, from somewhere in Norway, who had heard from a distant cousin of some sort that this place paid a good wage and didn’t work you too hard for the summer. A bag of sandwiches and box of soda appeared at one point and everyone chowed down. The jacked guy appeared a few times ferrying last-minute stuff onto the boat then called out to a few guys on the dock who untied the ropes and pushed them off, with the engine shuttering to life underneath them. It was a pretty stirring sight: the little town perched at the base of these cliffs, the boat pushing off into the low waves of the sea and kicking up occasional bursts of saltwater into the air. The other guys chatted quietly while Kyle and some of the others watched the cliffs roll by. After about an hour the boat turned out to sea, and the water got a little rougher, but not long after Mr. Muscle shirt pulled them into a dock just barely big enough for the ferry, beneath a modest-sized island that seemed to be a tiny mountain jutting up from the sea.
They were all ushered unceremoniously out while a number of burly guys - most just wearing shorts and therefore displaying pretty serious muscles - hopped in and started squaring away the cargo. Muscle-shirt pointed them to a low-slung building nearby, where a middle-aged guy - also jacked, what the hell did people eat here? - gestured them inside. Another waiting room, though in this case a checklist was produced and their names called out - way fewer names than were on the list, apparently, but the guy didn’t seem to care. He called Antonio in first - As before Bs was apparently the case in the local language too - and when he reappeared to call out the next person he was wearing a lab coat, which raised some eyebrows.
Kyle’s turn came up soon enough. The doctor - well, he guessed the guy was a doctor - asked a few questions, photocopied his passport, and took a blood sample. Then he asked him to roll up his sleeve for an injection - something about local parasites - swabbed with the little wet wipe, and stuck him with the injector full of blue-silver stuff. He asked after allergies, medications, that sort of thing. Doc checked his tonsils and did a quick eye-over of his junk as well, marking a few things down on a clipboard then pointing him to a different door than the one he’d come through.
The next waiting room was a lot less spartan and way more spa than anything else so far. There was a little dispenser-thing full of some sort of fruit juice, some sandwiches, and a few fruit bowls. Antonio, Connor, and the others were all chatting amiably and chowing down even though they’d just had sandwiches on the boat trip over. After a minute Kyle joined them, feeling oddly hungry as well or just wanting to fit in; he didn’t care. Everyone mentioned the injection, the blood drawn - apparently they didn’t care about fasting or anything, which one of the dudes who was in training to be a hospital orderly said was weird. The fruits were a weird, firm thing with a thin skin and a strange, peach-like cleft to them that nobody had ever seen before; everyone laughed after Connor mimed fucking it since it looked a little like a girl’s cooch. Didn’t stop anyone from trying some though - they smelled really good once someone broke the skin, sweet with a sort of nut- or meat-like taste in the middle. Kyle had three before he felt too full to continue, at which point Thor showed up and the Doctor returned them to muscle-shirt’s hands. Someone finally caught the guy’s name - Niko - and proved that he spoke slightly broken English. Thor took a sandwich - and at Niko’s insistence, two of the fruits - and they moved out to a nice villa-looking structure down the street. There were only a few other buildings in the place, and something that looked like an aqueduct flowing into the one that looked the most modern. Antonio spotted a futuristic-looking building along the coast made mostly out of glass and steel, but from down by the water it was hard to tell how to get there. The burly guys who had unloaded the boat were hanging out on plastic chairs in front of what looked like a store house, popping a beer and waving at the newcomers as they filed into the villa.
Niko explained that they’d be staying here tonight - “bus tomorrow, here tonight, showers, beer!” and that they’d be moving up to the resort in the morning. The villa was more of a high-end hostel than an actual villa. The main floor was mostly an open room with a kitchen at one end and a bathroom, overlooking a porch that faced the sea and the cliffs. Upstairs had a huge, open bay full of beds and a communal shower, with a few toilets stalls and sinks. The fridge downstairs proved to be full to bursting with more of those fruits and a bunch of local beer, which was promptly raided. Some of the guys settled in to play cards and chill out; Kyle, Thor, and Connor opted to go see what was up across the street with the guys who had been unloading the boat.
Niko was nowhere to be found, but three worker guys in shorts introduced themselves as Bors, Timo, and Brian. Bors was from Hungary, apparently, and Timo was a local, with Brian all the way from Canada. All had worked here for a few years and decided to stay during the off-season; all spoke better English than Niko had.
“So what work will people be doing? I thought this would be sort of a hot destination?” Thor asked after the first round of beers.
“Oh, it gets busy. People usually don’t come in until after the summer hot spots wind down - Majorca, Monte Carlo, that sort of thing.” Brian answered. He tossed Connor another of those strange fruits and bit into another for himself. “Most just come for a nice place to wind down and get away from things, so it’s not too crazy. We’ll get maybe another shift of stuff off the mainland next week, maybe a few more recruits, and then we’re all set for a few months. There’s more crops and stuff on the island than you’d expect.”
“Is this stuff local?” Connor asked, gesturing to the fruit. “It looks like a cunt if you squint.”
“Hah! Yeah, it only grows here. Pretty good though, right?” Bors replied before getting up to grab another beer for himself.
“Where are the real cunts, anyway? Like, are there any ladies around?” Kyle gestured at the largely deserted port. “You guys have been here for years, surely you’d get some action, right?”
“Eh, not so much off-season. You get used to it, and there’s the mainland.” Timo said, gesturing out to the water. He made a rude gesture with one of the fruits. “There’s always alternatives after all!”
“Ew, gross!” Everyone broke out into laughter, but Brian and Timo exchanged a smirk that said something more. Despite the cold beers it was still warm as hell as the sun started to get lower in the afternoon. Everyone retreated together to the hostel for dinner, where Niko was throwing together something in a huge pot on the stove. Two large fish were already filleted and a bowl full of cubed-up meat tossed in spices was on the table with a pile of flat loaves of bread and saucers full of various sauces. Some of the guys were munching on fruit and bullshitting as the food cooked, and the rest were upstairs napping. Niko said something to Timo, who went off to rouse everyone upstairs. Despite the light breeze off the ocean, the stove made it hot as hell in the main room, so everyone ate on the porch.
The bunks were comfortable, though the open showers were weird - no dividers or curtains or anything, or even between the urinals and the shower bay. His eyes didn’t intentionally wander while he was showering off, but he could tell that Connor and Antonio were more defined than they seemed under their travel garb when the water was flowing off their muscles. Both were pretty hung, too; not that Kyle had anything to complain about, but they were clearly showers, not growers. One of the other guys flung soap suds around to start a water fight, plucking the shower head down and spraying at everyone until someone who was shaving at the sinks got upset and told them to knock it out.
There were more than enough beds, but nobody seemed to feel the need to spread out. Light sheets seemed to be more than enough, and most of the blankets were tossed on top of the trunks where they’d stored their bags. The sea breeze was perfect, with the light noise of crashing waves lulling everyone to sleep. Kyle woke up a few times in the middle of the night because the others seemed to be tossing and turning a bit, with a few throwing their sheets off entirely. Half the guys apparently slept in the buff, but even they seemed to be hot and sweaty. He hoped that wherever the resort was, he’d be sleeping somewhere with AC. Once he woke up with the apparent result of a wet dream but no idea what the hell had caused it; thankfully the other guys were still asleep. He cleaned himself up in the bathroom and went back to bed, but could hear the guys getting up and moving around all night.
Nevertheless, he felt well-rested when Niko came in to wake them all up. There was another huge breakfast downstairs - fruit salad, some sort of pancakes fried in something that made them taste like steak, peppers with scrambled eggs and sausage, and pitchers of water with some fruit blossoms of some sort in it that had a lemon-citrus taste. The worker guys joined them, ducking out with Niko two-by-two to get cars ready for their trip, returning a little sweaty but clearly excited. Hopefully the trip would cool things down; it was still sweaty as all hell. Most everyone went without shirts; it was all guys here anyway. Connor hadn’t even bothered with shorts; he was still in his underwear, which was showing off a little too clearly just how much of a grower he was. Once people teased him enough he went back upstairs to grab pants, but Kyle at least almost wished he could do the same. Timo assured them that nobody would care, and that they could change at the resort.
The ride up was even bumpier than their trip from the airport. The cars weren’t exactly Jeeps - some sort of solar-powered utility vehicles, which apparently cut down on fuel costs - but it took three of them to get them all up to the resort. Once they were there it was obvious why people came: the glass-and-steel part they’d seen from the shore was only one part of the complex sprawling along inland, and the helipad they passed seemed huge with only two modestly-sized helicopters perched on it. Niko and the others peeled off as Doc - apparently his name was Alex - get them settled. They wound up in a series of suite rooms, four to a suite, with a little kitchenette and a shared bathroom with oddly communal showers, again. Heck, there were barely any doors in the place except the one on the toilet, though the quality of everything was top-notch. Doc Alex let them sort out who stayed where, so Kyle wound up bunking with Thor, Connor, and Antonio. They all changed - the AC was on full blast and the room almost felt cold - into nice-ish clothes to go meet their employers for the first time. They waited in the lobby for all of five minutes before Doc Alex came by.
Antonio went first, again, but unlike down on the shore there seemed to be a number of people sorting out the newcomers. Timo came for Connor and Brian collected Kyle just as someone else was coming by for Thor. Brian led him to a modest room overlooking the forest that butted up against the resort, something of a cross between a counselor’s room and a lounge. There was a desk with some paperwork, more of those fruits, and a little incense bowl, which Brian lit once they settled in.
“So, why’d you take up the offer to come here, Kyle?” Brian asked. There was a clipboard, but he didn’t seem to need it.
“Seemed like a good way to get some cash, now that summer’s winding down. I’ve got my ticket paid out of London and the money to get back there when I wrap up here, but who wouldn’t say yes to a job for two weeks, just a few hour a day? Especially on an island.” Brian nodded along with a smile.
“Yup! Oh, it’s almost lunchtime, I forgot. All we’ve got in here is some fruit.” Brian put the bowl on the little table between them and took one for himself. Maybe these were more ripe, but they tasted even better; sort of a sweet meaty flavor that made his mouth water.
“Just so you know, at the end of the two weeks you can re-up, like I did. It’s no harm, no foul either way, but you’ll sign a non-disclosure agreement when you leave. If you want, the resort can pay to have your flight and everything changed, and they’ll sort out visas. The guys who own the place would rather have people from all over than just locals.” Kyle nodded along, and Brian explained more paperwork. For whatever reason, the room felt stuffy even though the blower was constantly rustling cool air along his body. It made it hard to focus, and his eyes kept drifting along Brian’s body. The man had huge shoulders, pecs like a movie star. His shorts were maybe a little too short, but it showed off a pretty huge package that must have made his trips to the mainland a lot of fun. Kyle shook himself out of it and tried to focus on the paperwork as Brian handed it over. He signed in a few places, agreed to take payment in cash, marked out all the stuff on the disclosure agreement. Brain flipped through it casually, pointing out a few missed initials and such. The fruit smelled incredible, even just the remnants on the plate, but Kyle didn’t feel hungry at all. Maybe thirsty. When he stood up to sign off on one more piece of paper, he stumbled and Brian caught him.
Even though the buff Canadian must have been radiating heat, Kyle slumped into him and relaxed. Brian felt good, really good. Brian smelled good. Kyle wondered if he tasted good. He was thirsty, and unconsciously his tongue flicked out and licked the skin on the bicep that was gently cradling him. It didn’t even seem weird, he was just thirsty. Brian was saying something, and he tried for focus on it, but Brian tasted really really good and Kyle could really only mumble about it, breathing in that amazing smell.
Brian settled him back down on the couch, and took off his shirt, his shoes. It felt good, more air blowing across his body, but Brian not touching him felt bad. Kyle felt like something was probably wrong, but didn’t quite get the feeling of what. He napped for a minute, somewhere. When he woke up, Brian was just in his underwear, on the floor next to him. Kyle watched a tiny drop of sweat fall along his chest, building and swelling at each ripple of muscle until it flowed into the waistband of his underwear. Brian had a stiff erection, he could see it through the fabric, precum leaking all around the head. Kyle felt thirsty again. Brain leaned close, said something, smiled. Kyle smiled back, leaned into him, kissed him. It was the most natural thing in the world, and Brian’s smooth, calm pressure made the warmth feel so good. Their tongues felt amazing together, the best taste, the warm, slick pressure. Kyle could feel himself getting painfully horny, his shorts tangling around his cock. Brian’s hands traced along him like stinging nettles, finally reaching the clasp and freeing him. It brought Brian’s underwear into range, and Kyle tugged at it, revealing smooth, muscular planes before it caught on the jutting crag of the other man’s cock.
Brian chuckled, helped it along, pushing the briefs down. Kyle’s mouth watered at the throbbing prick in front of him, slick and slowly leaking precum. He licked it, and a groan came from somewhere. The slightly astringent taste was what he wanted, what he craved, he needed more. Kyle kept licking, sucking at it, trying to get more and more of the precum flowing from it. Brian was somewhere down below doing something incredible, amazing, beyond words, but he didn’t dare stop to look, he needed it too badly to stop. After a second Brian shifted and climbed onto the couch above him, his thick cock sliding smoothly and never leaving the safe port of his mouth.
The first taste of cum was a surprise, but it was the most incredible thing he’d ever tasted. Layers beneath the salty-sweet slick gel shouted at him, and he suckled for more. The second burst was just as amazing, and the third and the fourth. He didn’t want to stop, he never wanted to stop. He felt his own load burst down by Brian’s head, the amazing sensation of tasting cum as his dick lost control and his balls rose up bursting in air then into the warm, wet strength of Brian’s mouth. Kyle didn’t want to let go; he kept suckling at the cock before him even as Brian stood and just the barest tip remained in his mouth. He couldn’t even stop himself from a pitiful whine as it slipped away, the slick flesh sliding through his lips and escaping his tongue. But he wasn’t thirsty anymore. Brian sidled over to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a little washcloth, his perfectly sculpted ass bouncing subtly as he did. How had he never noticed how great a guys’ ass looked, doing that? How could you miss it? Had he never looked?
“You have to have questions, I imagine.” Brian said, returning to the couch. His cock was an unfair distance away, and Kyle felt too limp to reach, even though he wanted nothing more than to feel that still-firm flesh against his own skin. “I certainly did, red-blooded Canadian pussy hound that I was.”
“How … what happened?” He managed to croak out. The feeling of the cum in his mouth left everything slick and amazing, almost made it hard to talk. Brian smiled.
“It’s the fruit. Well, not just the fruit. That shot the Doc gave you yesterday helps you eat the fruit. You’d get sick otherwise. But hot damned if it doesn’t make the fruit taste amazing and cock taste even better. One of the fringe benefits.” Brian ran an idle hand along Kyle’s flanks and scratched his chest with another.
“What do you mean? Fringe benefits?” That chest was still entrancing.
“You’ll notice yourself bulking up; I mean, we work out but we don’t work out enough to look like this.” He gestured at his incredibly perfect body. “I had bad acne, too. Gone. I was actually sort of a slob, beer gut out to here and everything. You won’t change too much, I don’t think, unless you really gorge yourself on the fruit. Its tubers are pretty good too, make you horny as all get-out though. Can’t eat much before you need dick any way you can get it.”
“Did you - was this some sort of trap? Like, a lure? Can I leave?”
“It’d take a few days to even make arrangements to get you out of here. You’re signed on for two weeks anyway. You might not want to leave after. I certainly didn’t.” Brian’s fingers scratched lightly at Kyle’s balls, and he could feel himself stirring again. “Makes you feel young, every day you’re here. Man, this place is amazing. You’ll find more ass that you know what to do with, all of it willing. I’ve fucked and been fucked in two years more than any Amsterdam whore.”
“I don’t - I want to go.” He managed to sit up, but Brian’s arm across his leg might as well have been a tree trunk. He didn’t want it to lift off of him, either, he wanted it to keep playing with his - no. “I want to go back to my room now.”
“Ok, no problem. Your first shift is tomorrow, anyway. I’ll come fetch you in the morning after breakfast. Do you remember the way?” Brian shifted just so slightly, and his leg was free. Sitting up felt like lifting a mountain with his finger tips. God, the image of his dick framed by Brian’s sprawling shoulders, looking up at him with a question. He wanted to put his dick in him, he wanted to fucking - no. Stop. His cock dribbled precum, but he managed to stand up without touching Brian. He forgot he was naked until he was halfway down the corridor, and kept walking: if he went back in there he’d never want to leave.
Nobody else was around to see him scamper bare-assed through the lobby and back to his room. God only knows what sick cameras or whatever they had set up in this place, what they were watching right now - all the others had gone off with men, too, not a woman among them. He hadn’t heard - hadn’t stopped to hear - what might have been happening in the other rooms. He managed to curl up on his bed, shivering.
The door to the suite opened, surprising him, and he sat up to see Connor walking in with a blank look on his face and his briefs sort of haphazardly hanging on him. He looked good, really good; a treasure trail of auburn hair from pec to the thatch of hair right at the waistband, the perfect vee of his hips practically pointing the way down below.
“Dude. You too?” Kyle asked as Connor started, staring at him. The Brit gave him a vague nod, eyes tracking vacantly across Kyle’s body. It seemed weird, but for whatever reason it was fine that Connor saw him like this. He wanted Connor to see him like this. “The others too, you think?”
“Yeah. I think I heard - no, I know I heard Thor. He was really loud, begging for something he wanted, like … man, I’m getting hard thinking about it.” Connor looked down at himself, where a tiny wet patch was forming on his briefs. “I really wanted it, so bad. I didn’t even think about saying no, it looked so good, and now … holy fuck man, I’m gay. Like, really gay. Don’t even want to go back if it’s even half as good as that every time. Jesus fuck.” Connor perched on the bed, between Kyle’s legs.
“It’s just the fruit, man. We’ll stop eating it, everything will be fine.” It felt true when he said it, but the aftertaste of Brian’s cum was still in his mouth, and for a second all he wanted was more of it. “It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know if I want it to be fine, man. That was - that was something else.” Their eyes caught. When had they started breathing shallow breaths like that? It made Connor’s chest hair dance, rising and falling. The Brit’s cock rose above his legs, straining at his briefs, and Kyle could see his own erection trying to match. “Dude, do … do you want to …”
"I …. holy shit, Connor, I want you right now, I just - " but Connor was suddenly there, in his arms, the feeling of their cocks rubbing against the wet fabric of the briefs like nothing he could have ever imagined. The kiss was more fumbling, inexpert than when Brian had done it, but it felt just as right. “Oh fuck yes please Connor please.”
Kyle had no idea how long they pressed against each other, rubbing and gliding along as they kissed. They managed to peel the briefs off Connor at some point. They heard the door to the room open but it might as well have been on the Moon, it was so far away. They were completely lost in each other, hands roaming along new territory and pulling at hair, grabbing and clenching. Connor came at some point, splashes of cool cum flowing between them, but they didn’t - couldn’t stop. Connor’s hand wrapped around Kyle’s cock and it was like he’d grabbed his very soul; the slick mixture of precum and cum and sweat better than any lube he’d ever heard of and holy god it felt so good. Another figure loomed behind Connor, bending down to kiss gently at his ear before resolving into Antonio.
“Please?” Connor pulled him onto the bed, their bodies crashing together on top of Kyle. Antonio had a pair of worn boxers that Connor tore off of him, the sound of ripping cotton like a primal growl in the enclosure of the room. Antonio’s cock slapped against Kyle’s thigh like a snake falling on flesh, the circle of his foreskin flaring and rolling back to give way. Connor intercepted it, his freckled face buried in Antonio’s crotch like it was seeking heaven. Kyle watched in awe as Antonio’s face rippled in amazement, quiet gasps escaping every so often as the the drip of Connor’s load off his chest hair fell onto Kyle.
Kyle’s hands were wandering over them with minds of their own, but one nestled in the cleft of Connor’s ass, stroking idly across the ridged pucker of him and along the tiny seam of his taint. Above him Connor moaned into Antonio, drool falling from the Spanish stud’s cock and wavering in the gasping breaths of the Brit who couldn’t take enough of it. Kyle’s fingers traced and pressed slightly as Connor backed into him, slipping and pulling the three down into a tangle of limbs and sweat and hair and cum. Antonio’s mouth met Kyle’s, Connor’s wiry hair running down their sides as his tongue slid between them. Kye’s legs rose and wrapped around them, his hands gripping Connor’s ass and sliding between his belly and Antonio’s, wrapping around the slick folds of their heads and circling as Antonio forced himself into his mouth, tongues wrapping around each other and pressing with need. Their cocks throbbed in Connor’s hand, and the flush of cool liquid arrived as Antonio’s moans deepened out into a cry, almost a shout. The slickness between them was separated by a swipe of Connor’s hand, quickly grasping Kyle’s cock and with one, two - he felt himself give way, his cum splashing all over them and running along his body in trickles. Connor’s mouth traced along their bodies, his other hand pumping away until he came, again, all over the drenched mess of Kyle’s crotch. Antonio seemed suspended by his own orgasm for a moment, then came slowly, almost carefully down opposite Connor. Kyle’s arms naturally wrapped around them, pulling them into an embrace.