This is an exclusive peek at the first book in my new island series to be published in August 2020.

This series was inspired by a conversation I stumbled on around what would life be like if men ruled over women and women were thought to be inferior and only good for sex. I had lots of fun playing with this idea and taking it to extremes. I love that writing allows me to explore and push limits.

This story is protected under copyright law and cannot be distributed or reposted anywhere else. If you’d like to link to this page, please do. Enjoy!

I knew what I was getting into and I had no idea what I was getting into. I showed up in a soft silk slip dress that barely graced my thighs with no bra and no panties as instructed. I struggled to walk in my five-inch Lucite platform heels but figured they wanted me a little off balance. This was what I had signed up for, I reminded myself, as the nerves rattled through me, making me edgy and hyper-aware.

They led me through a heavy wood door back to a waiting area, putting a glass of what looked like wine in my hand but I knew better. They had told me they’d be giving me something to relax, something to make the evening more enjoyable, to help me accept my place in this new world.

I signed up for this, I told myself again as I drank the dark burgundy liquid, aware that I was stepping into the unknown, giving myself over to a dark calling that had been scratching to be let out.

My best friend was the only person I told where I was going in case anyone asked. I didn’t want a missing person report filed or anyone to worry. My parents were older and out traveling the world. I rarely talked with them but let them know I’d unreachable for six months, telling them I’d be volunteering somewhere in the Bahamas. I didn’t have siblings so, besides my friends, no one would miss me.

I drained the last of the liquid, finishing it in a few gulps, grateful for the way it buzzed in my head and made my limbs seem fluid. I knew I wouldn’t resist anything they wanted to do to me—that thought aroused me. I welcomed the sense of surrendering full control.

“All set?” a young woman with fiery red hair and killer green eyes asked once I’d finished. She wore a similar silk slip dress but hers was green. I wondered if she also wore nothing underneath. They told me I’d be lucky to be wearing anything at all during my time on the island and to get used to being naked and exposed.

I nodded, my heart racing. “All set.”

She gave me a knowing smile.

“It’ll get easier. I’m sure you’ll be happy here. Not everyone who applies gets accepted.”

I was aware of this. They told me that several times during the interview process and, although I felt pleased and honored to be here, I also wondered what the hell I was doing. I had signed my rights as a person away only a few days ago, accepting my place as an inferior female in this new society they started on a remote island in the Bahamas. No one would know where I was and the only way off was by boat or plane, both of which were controlled by the society.

“Let me escort you to the plane,” she said.

She ushered me through the rest of the building, vacant except for a few men in suits situated around a bar. The jet outside was compact, only space enough for ten passengers. I didn’t have bags. I wouldn’t be needing them. I would be auctioned off as soon as I arrived or else I’d become part of the island’s brothel which I was told wasn’t where I wanted to be. Isaid a silent prayer hoping I’d be bought by some compassionate man but knew there’d be no guarantees.

The men at the bar joined me on the plane a few minutes after I was situated towards the back. They chatted without acknowledging me, my first lesson in how little I would matter. I knew I couldn’t engage them in conversation. I was only allowed to speak when spoken to and it was a punishable offense to speak to a man first. I’d be able to converse with other women freely when men weren’t present but until I met one, I’d need to stay silent.

I’d never been a fan of flying and closed my eyes during takeoff, escaping into my mind. I thought back to what had started this craziness. I had seen an article online about a new society one man created where women were considered inferior and would be under full control of the men. He called it the natural order and got together with other men to buy a remote island off the Bahamas to start their new society. He put a call out to recruit interested men and women, offering to compensate the women for their time. The men needed to be self-sufficient.

I had been intrigued and kept going back to it. Something within me resonated with this lifestyle, that wanted to live in a place where everyone knew their role in life. I had recently graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in communications and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. This sounded like the perfect distraction while I figured it out. Plus, I got turned on by the thought of giving up full control.

I signed up without overthinking it which was unusual for me but it had felt right. Something about it clicked. I signed over the consent papers before I knew it, giving myself over to this lifestyle for the next six months, committing to be an inferior woman.

The plane touched down a short while later, pulling me out of my thoughts. The men exited without a glance my way. I waited in my seat as instructed. My heart raced, my nerves a mess, despite the calming drink. This would be the start of turning my life over to someone else.

An older, clean-shaven man with short sandy brown hair entered the plane once the men and the pilot left, his eyes landing on me.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice stern.

I immediately stood up, swaying a moment before regaining my footing. I followed him off the plane and across the tarmac to a waiting golf cart. He put me in the back without a word before slipping into the driver’s seat. Part of me screamed that it was foolish to be trusting him, to be here at all, to have put myself in this position. I took in a few deep breaths and reminded myself for the millionth time that I wanted to experience this and needed to trust that it would work out.

He didn’t say another word as he wound his way through a stretch of houses before it opened up to a busy downtown. I settled back in the seat, taking in deep breaths to calm my nerves. This is what I wanted. This is what I chose. I wanted this experience. I needed to give in to it.

He pulled up to an office building before escorting me out, his hand strong around my elbow as if I would flee. I had no idea where he thought I would go. There was no way off the island unless I intended to swim. Plus, I signed up for this.

The office interior was bright and minimalist with white everything. A receptionist nodded to the man as we walked by. He led me to an open elevator and pushed 12. I held my breath as the doors closed, trapping me inside. I watched the numbers grow larger as we went up. He didn’t touch me or talk to me. He simply stood in front of me as we waited.

The doors opened upon our arrival. I followed him out. This time he stopped to talk with the receptionist, letting her know that he had a new arrival. She smiled and thanked him, telling him to put me in room four and that someone would be around to tend to me.

He deposited me in a windowless room that resembled a doctor’s exam room and left without a word. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before another man came in, this one in a white lab coat. He smiled at me.

“Please have a seat,” he said, directing me to one of two chairs.

I sat, tucking the slip dress underneath me as much as I could, aware that most of my underside was sitting directly on the rough fabric.

“I’m happy you decided to join us,” he said. “My name is Dr. Jones and I’ll be conducting your exam today. I am also your primary care physician while you’re on the island. If you have any health concerns, schedule an exam here. Your medical expenses are covered during your stay so there are no concerns about that. You will need to request permission from your owner but it’s in their best interest to make sure you stay healthy. This includes your mental health. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice quiet as I sank into my new role.

“Very good. Now let’s start with your exam. Stand up and take off your dress. You can hang it on the hook over there.”

Heat rose in my cheeks as I stood up and slipped the dress off, leaving me in nothing but the platform heels. Even though this felt clinical, I knew there was more to it. This was my life now. 

I had a slim figure with rounded hips and ample breasts. My nipples hardened against the cool office air. Anticipation crept up my spine as I tried not to think about what he’d do next.

He took out a stethoscope from his pocket and listened to my heart and lungs, instructing me to take in deep breaths. He took my temp and blood pressure, looked into my ears and mouth, before running his hand down my back and over my ass, stopping just short of my pussy.

“Bend over,” he said. “Grip your ankles if you can.”

Embarrassed, I did as he said, knowing I was giving him a full view of my underside. I had waxed before I arrived, as instructed, so I knew I was clean and bare. It had taken some getting used to but I didn’t think I’d ever go back to not waxing.

I felt him inch closer, his thighs grazing the back of mine, before he slid a finger into my wet pussy. The invasion startled me but I knew better than to say anything. He pushed a second figure in and then a third, stretching me as if testing my capacity. I breathed through the discomfort, careful not to squirm, careful not to show anything.

“Not bad,” he said before pulling out. He went over to the desk to type something on the computer.

I stayed bent over until he came back. This time he thrust a lubed finger into my ass, rocking me forward. I steadied myself as he pressed in deeper, wiggling around, making me want to move away from the invasion but I forced myself to stay steady.

“Nice control,” he said before pulling out and slapping my ass. “You can stand up now.”

I slowly uncurled myself until I was standing upright, my arms hanging at my sides, as I watched him type on the computer. I wondered what he was recording about me. Once he finished, he stood in front of me and examined my breasts with his hands, holding them before brushing lightly against the hard nipples, sending a jolt of arousal through me. He squeezed each nipple tentatively before increasing the pressure, watching my reaction. I squirmed a moment, not meeting his eyes, until he released me.

“Not bad,” he said as he returned to the computer and typed some more.

My eyes went wide as he pulled out a large needle, sinking it into a small jar, pulling liquid up into it. He chuckled at my reaction.

“One last thing,” he said as he came near me with that thing, “I need to give you a high dose birth control shot that will keep away unwanted pregnancies during your stay. It’s 100% effective and will allow you not to have to worry about who uses you.”

I gritted my teeth as he sank the needle into my ass. It stung as the liquid entered me. I wondered what else was in that needle besides birth control. I had given myself over completely so they could do whatever they wanted with me other than anything that would cause permanent harm.

“Good girl,” he said when he pulled the needle out. I sighed with relief. “You’ll go through your orientation with Chelsea next. She will give you the rules and expectations for your time here. Again, reach out to us if you need anything.”

With that, he left. I wasn’t told to get dressed or to leave or anything so I stayed standing there worried that I was doing everything wrong. I felt a little calmer than before but I was swimming in a sea of overwhelm. I was grateful I had told a friend where I would be but she had no way of contacting me and I had no way of contacting her that I knew of so I wasn’t sure at that moment what good that was doing me.

A moment later a woman came in carrying a clipboard. She was dressed how I imagined secretaries dressed in the fifties, in a thin black pencil skirt that skimmed her full hips, a proper white blouse that gaped open at the top revealing unadorned full breasts. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled up in a loose topknot with a few stray strands curling around her heart-shaped face. She wore bright red lipstick and her upper eyelids were heavily lined with black. It was only the white collar around her neck that hinted at something different.

She smiled when she saw me standing there like an idiot.

“Hi,” she said, her voice sweet and upbeat. “I’m happy to see you didn’t move and didn’t bother getting dressed. That will put you a couple of points above the others which is exactly where you want to be.”

I blinked at her, not quite understanding what she meant, and hoped she’d be able to guide me through this crazy society.

“You may sit,” she said as she took a seat in one of the chairs, crossing one slim leg over the other.

I slowly sat down, the fabric rough on my ass.

“I see you’re with us for six months. That’s a perfect length of time. Not too short and not too long. You can always renew your commitment to stay once your six months are up. A lot of women do that.”

I nodded. Six months felt like forever.

“Today I will go over all the rules and expectations for you while you’re here,” she said. “They gave you some indication of what would be expected of you during the interview process but this is where we get more specific.

“First off, you won’t own anything while you’re here. Everything you need will either be provided for you or you will go without. You are considered property and property doesn’t have ownership rights. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my voice escaping me. The severity of what I signed up for started sinking in.

“Good. Next, you need to understand that as property, you have no rights. The only right you have is to not be permanently harmed. Men are considered superior and they can do and say whatever they want to you without reprimand. You signed your consent when you agreed to come here and that’s all the consent they need. They do not need your further consent. With that being said, if you refuse or talk back to any man for any reason, unless he is causing permanent harm, then you will be punished and I can guarantee you you won’t like it. Understand?”

I nodded again, my eyes wide, as I considered what this all meant.

“We do not have safe words here since we are not a club but a lifestyle. However, if you feel in danger of being permanently harmed, you can say the word red and you will be brought to this office immediately to be examined and fixed up if needed. You can do this without punishment except if it’s found that you used the word without the imminent threat of being permanently harmed. Then you will be shipped off the island and will not receive any compensation for any time spent here. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, my heart hammering. What the hell had I agreed to?

“Good. A few more simple ground rules and then we can get to the next steps of your intake. Do not initiate conversation with any man. You may talk with women but not when there’s a man present. When a man’s present, all your attention needs to be on him. However, you cannot make eye contact with him unless he requests it.

“They will auction you off this evening to your new owner. Most men have multiple women under their ownership so don’t be surprised if this is the case. There is no hierarchy among women inside a household since all women are inferior and none rank higher than another. Do your best to get along with the other women inside your new household. This will make your life here much easier.

“If you’re not purchased during the auction, which sometimes happens, then you will be sent to one of the brothels until someone wants to claim you as their own. Also, if you displease your owner in any way, he can drop you at the brothel and release his ownership of you. The brothels are not a fun place to be so do your best to keep your owner happy.

“Your owner will give you a collar representing his ownership over you. This will alert other men of your ownership status and whether your owner will share you. Different color collars represent different rules of ownership. A white collar means hands-off, that only the owner may touch you. A yellow collar means the owner allows groping only. A green collar means the owner allows others to fuck you any way they want but cannot cause any pain. A black collar means the owner allows others to do whatever they want with you without restriction. Girls at the brothels are not collared and are free use for whatever without restriction, including being taken overnight or for days at a time. All collared women must be returned to their owner by midnight unless other arrangements are made.”

I started to feel unsettled, like the world was shifting beneath me, as I took in the rules. It was feeling too real.

“I know it’s a lot,” Chelsea said, “but you’ll get used to it. Your owner may have you work if they wish. They will receive a list of your skills and may want you to be a productive part of this society. All your wages will be deposited into his account since property cannot own anything. But working is a wonderful way to meet people and to acclimate yourself to being here. Any questions?”

I wouldn’t even know where to begin. It was too much.

“No? Well, you might. Make your way back here if you have any questions in the future. It’s better to ask them here than in your new household. The other women might not always give you the most truthful answers. It can be in their best interest for you to fail and to be shipped out of here. Never ask your owner any questions unless he asks you for them. He shouldn’t be bothered with your confusion.

“You are to present yourself however your owner wants. This could include being clothed or unclothed. Your owner will provide you with clothes if that is his wish. Brothel girls are to be unclothed at all times since they own nothing. Meals are provided for the brothel girls since they are part of the community and we don’t want anyone to starve. Your owner will dictate your meals for you. If you are to work, your owner will decide what you wear to work as well. Don’t be shocked or surprised if you see that most women are unclothed or displayed in some way. You’ll get used to it. Women are considered ornaments and are often displayed regardless of their collar status.

“I know this is a lot to take in. Again, reach out to us here if you get confused. We want this to be a pleasurable experience for you as much as possible. We intend to create a permanent society here and that can only happen if the women want to stay. We don’t keep anyone here against their will. If at any time you want to leave, come to this office and let us know. We will ship you out as soon as we can.

“You will be given new rules by your owner that you must abide by or you will be punished accordingly. Do your best to follow all the rules and you’ll be fine. Any questions?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was too much but also everything I needed. I needed to be here, to experience whatever this was, to get it out of my system before I could return to the real world. Not to mention that the compensation would set me up for a couple of years and allow me time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I needed to be here.

“No questions,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “Leave the dress here. You won’t be needing it. Follow me to the waiting area. You’ll stay there until the auction this evening. Lunch will be brought to you but, seeing that you’re the only new arrival today, you will be alone. This will allow you to start learning patience and the ability to do nothing for long periods.”

Without another word, she was out the door. I followed her wearing only my platform heels, clicking down the hallway after her like a lost puppy. My mind swam as we walked down a long hallway filled with closed doors. We turned the corner, past the receptionist who didn’t bother looking up, and down to a room off to one side. The room had a full-length window open to the hallway and reception area with no windows to the outside, a table with two chairs and an uncomfortable-looking orange couch.

“You’ll be here for the next few hours,” she said. “Get comfortable. Remember, don’t initiate conversation with anyone except other women and only when no men are present. I would hate for you to be punished before you’re auctioned off. That would lower your ability to be bought.”

She opened the door for me, closing and locking it once I was inside. I stood there a moment, staring back at her, staring out into the empty hallway and reception area, wondering what the hell had I done. I felt like a prisoner awaiting my sentence even though I already knew what my sentence would be.