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Message-ID: <34064asstr$1008454208@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Highlander JM" <highlanderjm@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} (RV) "Island Paradise: Revisited"  Part 13
Date: Sat, 15 Dec 2001 17:10:08 -0500
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<1st attachment, "ipr-x-13.txt" begin>

(IPR-X-13.TXT)

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Story Name: "Island Paradise: Revisited" (Part 13 of ??) -
               M/F, F/F & just about everything else
_____________________________________________________________


   "All I know is that I want Jeremy.  I'll go through
Pamela to get him, if I have to."
   Those words - a direct quote from Devon (to Cassidy) from
a few nights back, continued to ring throughout my head.
But what exactly did Devon mean when she said those words?

   It was flattering enough that a gorgeous, picture-perfect
woman such as Devon "wanted" me.  I am just a normal man, as
I have stated many times in the past.  Devon, on the other
hand, was a ravishing blonde who could easily have her pick
of just about any man (or bi-sexual/lesbian woman) in the
whole, wide world.  On the surface, it did not seem right
that I, of all people, was the one Devon was lusting after.
   In the past, I would have immediately thought that Devon
had dollar signs in her eyes when she looked at me.  I was a
billionaire who, in the past, had been a prime target for
money-hungry women.  For years, I failed at relationships
because all it seemed that women really wanted from me was
my money.  Or, how much of it they could get.
   But Devon was not that way.  In fact, none of the ladies
on the island could be classified as gold-diggers - thanks
to Christina's computer program, which processed the long,
detailed questionnaires all of the applicants filled out.
It sifted through the bad seeds, and gave me a list of the
women who were most compatible with what I wanted in life.
And the last thing I wanted, of course, was a gold-digger.
   So if Devon was not after me for my money, what was it?
What attracted a gorgeous, luscious blonde such as Devon to
a normal, ordinary man like myself?

   My theory on why Devon liked me - as well as all of the
other ladies on the island - was that not only did I have a
very good-natured attitude toward them, but I was also very
respectful.  I was overly respectful in many ways, in fact -
but that was just my personality.  I couldn't change that.
   I would sit and listen to all of the ladies if they had a
problem - no matter what it was.  I would talk to them about
the problem, and try my best to help them get through it.
That was my nature.  I was a very caring person.
   I was very respectful of not only them, but their inner
feelings and thoughts as well.  I wanted nothing but for all
of these women to be happy in life - and they knew that.
They appreciated it, too.
   A common denominator amongst all of the ladies I had
brought to the island was that at one point in their recent
life, they had a devastating break-up with a man they loved
very dearly.  In all of those cases, the man turned out to
be not only the culprit, but a rotten apple as well.  This
even applied to Lindsay, who, of course, first came to the
island several months ago with her virginity still intact.
   A heart-wrenching end to a very recent relationship (with
a bad man) had been a requirement of mine when Christina's
computer program processed those thousands of applications.
Each lady had to have one - with an extremely cold-hearted
man - to even be considered for the island.

   Yes - I wanted to catch them "on the rebound".

   My simple reason for that was with my soft-spoken nature
and respectful attitude, these ladies would warm up to me
rather quickly.  Some may have thought that most of the men
in the world were evil, thanks primarily to what a single
one had recently done to them.  I, on the other hand, would
be a reminder that there was plenty of good men to go around.
   The original theory was that with each woman coming off a
bad relationship, they would perhaps cling to me a bit
harder.  They would find peace and solace with me and, in
some cases, love.
   The main reason why I brought the first batch of women to
the island, six months ago, was so that I could possibly
find myself a bride.  I have detailed that before.
   Pamela, who of course turned out to be my bride, had a
rather nasty break-up with her most recent boyfriend while
in Baltimore - before the island was even a thought to her.
The guy, from all accounts, was a real jerk.  He took
advantage of Pamela and her good nature, and wound up
humiliating her in front of all her friends.

   One of Pamela's attractions toward me was that I was such
a good-natured, easy-going type of guy.  I rarely got even a
tiny bit upset, and I treated her with the utmost amount of
respect.  I would never do a thing to harm Pamela (or any of
the other ladies), whether it be physically or emotionally.
They were angels to me, and I treated them as such.
   My soft-spoken, respectful nature was a major reason why
I had the honor and privilege of calling Pamela my wife.

   "All I know is that I want Jeremy.  I'll go through
Pamela to get him, if I have to."

   My best guess for why Devon "wanted" me was because of
the type of person I was.  She had recently come off of a
relationship where the man in her life had cheated on her,
behind her back, with two very close friends of hers.
   In fact, Devon never had much success with any men
throughout her life.  All of them looked at her stunning,
mega-voluptuous body, and had nothing but lust in their
eyes.  And as a result, they treated her like an object.
   Of course, I had very similar thoughts about Devon.  The
main difference between myself and most men, however, was
that I could mask my feelings, or completely hide them.
   Although I looked at Devon as a pure sex machine, I still
treated her - outwardly - with the highest level of respect.
According to the application that she filled out, no man had
ever truly cared about Devon.  The young woman claimed that
every man in her life wanted nothing but sex from her.
   While I had similar thoughts about her - Devon was just
too beautiful to think otherwise - I still cared about her.
I may not have directly shown that to Devon yet, but I cared
about her, and she knew it.  I cared about all of the girls.
   Perhaps Devon sensed my caring nature, and that was why
she "wanted" me so much.  I was - maybe in her eyes - the
first man in her life who would treat her as an actual
person.  It seemed to make sense.
   "I just think Jeremy is an incredibly nice, and good
person," was another thing Devon had said to Cassidy that
fateful night, as I eavesdropped on their discussion from my
voyeur room.  "Pamela sure is lucky to have found him, and
married him ... I wish I found him first.  I'd love to have
a husband as sweet as him."
   So, it looked like I had the first part of the puzzle
solved.  Devon had her sights set on me because, in her own
words, I was "incredibly nice", a "good person" and "sweet".
I was everything that she hadn't experienced yet, in a man.
The second part of the puzzle was what worried me, though...

   "All I know is that I want Jeremy.  I'll go through
Pamela to get him, if I have to."

   Devon would go through Pamela - my wife - to get to me?
Now what exactly did that mean?  Would she take Pamela on
and perhaps challenge her, and try to prove to me that she
would be a better wife?
   Or, was Devon insinuating that she would try to woo
Pamela into liking her?  That way, perhaps, I would notice
Devon - because she was with my wife - and then both Pamela
and I would accept her into our lives on a long-term basis.

   Here are some other things that she said that night...

   "I found the perfect guy for me ... Unfortunately, he is
married to someone else - Pamela."
   "I don't want to hurt his marriage.  Plus, I don't hold
anything bad against Pamela.  I think she is really nice..."
   "I'd love to be a play-thing for Pamela and Jeremy,
especially Jeremy.  I always have had a submissive side,
though it's really not been explored yet..."
   The last two quotes seemed to hint that Devon was warm to
the idea of interjecting herself into not only my life, but
Pamela's as well.  Perhaps she wanted to be our submissive?
But that would mean she would be treated like an object more
often than not.  I thought she didn't want that...

   I was confused.

   No matter what, I'll always go back to the main quote of
hers from that night.  She would go through Pamela in order
to get to me.  Perhaps I took it the wrong way, but those
words seemed rather threatening and ominous.

   If Devon had any intention of harming my marriage with
Pamela - even in the slightest way - I would not hesitate in
sending her home.  Pamela was my wife, and I loved her.  I
would not allow anything to come between us.
   Although I lusted after Devon in the worst way possible,
I would send her home in a heartbeat if she posed any sort
of a threat to my marriage with Pamela.  But that is what I
had to figure out.  Was Devon a threat?
   I would soon find out, as tonight was Devon's turn in the
"rotation" to spend the evening with me.

                           * * *

   "I just need to feel like I'm wanted; that I'm necessary,"
Devon said to me later on, after I had confronted her with my
thoughts and fears.
   I had earlier told Devon that I got the sense she had her
eyes on me a little too much, and that I had the feeling she
may pose a threat to my relationship with Pamela.  Devon
shot that down immediately, however, saying that Pamela was
too nice of a person, and she would never harm our marriage.
Devon simply said she liked both Pamela and myself, and
would appreciate the opportunity to get even closer with us.
   "I haven't felt like I was wanted or necessary... really,
at any point in my life," Devon told me, as our discussion
continued.  "It's been one bad relationship after another.
Most recently it's been Keith, then Jennifer.  For whatever
reason, I loved them very much.  But they didn't love me."

   Does this conversation sound similar to the one I had
with Torrie a few days back?

   "I just get the sense that you are different, Jeremy,"
Devon continued.  "Sure, you enjoy sex, and you have urges.
You brought all of us to this island so we would have sex
with you, and each other.  But I still think you're very
different than everyone else I've ever in my life."
   "Why is that?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
   "Because you're so nice, and thoughtful," she replied.
"From the very first moment I saw you, I seen it in your
smile... your eyes.  You're different."
   "Respectful?" I queried.
   "Yes," she replied with a smile.  "It's just... the way
you act around all of us.  You're living every man's dream,
I guess, but you're so kind and nonchalant about it.  You
have what - eight women now, alone on an island with you?"
   "Yes, eight," I told her.  "I'm glad you didn't say nine,
even though Louisa is here too.  She's too old for me."
   Devon giggled in reference to the 75-year-old housekeeper.
"Louisa is a wonderful cook, but she's too old for me, too."
   "I try to treat everyone fair," I said to Devon.  "I just
treat people the way I want to be treated myself.  I've been
looked at and thought of as an object before, because of my
money.  People haven't always treated me with respect.  It's
a sad, low feeling, Devon.  I know it all too well."
   "Exactly," she said.  "Maybe that's the reason why you
are the way you are."
   "No, not exactly," I countered.  "Even before I came into
my money, I was this way.  I've been this way all my life.
I was raised to be respectful, and courteous, of others."
   Devon smiled and said, "You and Pamela are so nice.  As I
told you earlier, I'd really like the chance to get to know
you and her a lot better.  Whether things would work or not,
I don't know.  But I'm willing to take that chance."
   "Be honest with me, Devon," I said to her.  "What would
be the best case scenario for you?"
   "To be like Lindsay," she replied immediately.  "To live
here, year-round, with you and Pamela.  To feel like I am
part of something, and that I matter.  To feel loved and
comforted and cared about, as Lindsay does."
   "You've only been here for a week, dear," I said, my
eyebrows raised.  "It's kind of early to want to stay here."
   "Not really," Devon countered.  "Besides, you asked for
the best case scenario.  That would be it."  She paused and
added, "I live in Pennsylvania - in a nothing, nowhere town.
Everyone there thinks I am a slut, because of something that
happened a long, long time ago.  This island, the way I look
at it, is a way for me to get out - permanently.  But at the
same time... I don't want to stay here long-term unless I am
loved and cared about."
   "I'll be perfectly honest, dear," were my words.  "The
first time I saw you in person, at the airport, the first
thought that crossed my mind was what you would look like
without that little mini-dress you had on."
   "Of course you thought that!  You're a guy, and all guys
think that way.  I have no problem with that.  What I do
have a problem with is after I get to know a guy, those
thoughts are still first and foremost on his mind.  I try my
best to be social and nice, but no matter what, I get looked
at as nothing more than a sex object.  NOTHING MORE."

   I could not say this to her - but that is how I thought
of Devon, too.  Mostly (but not completely) as a sex object.
She was too beautiful to look at...

   "Is it too much to ask that I be cared about, as a
person?" Devon said.  "I am a good person, but I'm not sure
many people have noticed or even tried to notice that.  They
see blonde hair and big breasts, and think I'm a bimbo."
   "You're not a bimbo, Devon," I told her, in all honesty.
"That is one thought which never, EVER crossed my mind.
You're a dental assistant, right?  That takes some brains
and know-how.  You're obviously very bright, and you have
sensitive feelings.  You're not a bimbo."
   "You may be the first person who looked at me that way,"
Devon said to me, which sent chills down my spine.  "I know
I make my life out to sound very bad, but it's the truth.
I just want to be someplace where I am loved and cared for."
   "Why does everyone in your hometown think you're a slut?"
I asked her.  "Is there a specific reason for that?"
   Devon's lips twitched with anguish before she replied, "I
don't like talking about this, but back in..."
   "Then don't talk about it," I said, cutting her off.  "If
you don't like talking about it, I don't want to hear it."
   "No," she said, shaking her head.  "I'll tell you.  I...
I don't mind.  You won't tell anyone else here... right?"
   "Of course not, dear," I returned.  "Anything you say is
between you and me - and no one else."
   "Back in high school, I got caught having sex with my
boyfriend... in the school auditorium," she told me.  "I...
I was suspended for three months, and the local newspaper
got involved, too.  They ran some bad stories about me.  It
was so humiliating..."
   I nodded at her and said, "And even though you're 24
years of age now, people still remember that one incident?"
   "Yes," she replied.  "I know it was stupid of me to do
that.  I deserved to be suspended.  I graduated a year late
because of it, too.  But still, I didn't need to be
butchered by the local newspaper.  They had everyone talking
about me.  It was a nothing, nowhere town - just as I said -
so they needed something to talk about.  It was me."
   "Why didn't you tell me this on your application?"
   "I couldn't," Devon responded.  "It's too humiliating.  I
don't even like thinking about it.  I had men in their
fifties and sixties approach me on the street, and ask me if
I'd be interested in making `a little extra money' - if you
know what I mean.  I was the town slut."
   "You're not a slut, Devon," I calmly told her.  "You are
a little adventurous and wild with your sexual tastes, as
all of the women on this island are.  That's why you took a
chance by having sex with your boyfriend in the auditorium.
You're adventurous, but you're not a slut."
   "Is anyone here a slut in your eyes?" she asked.
   "On the island?" I responded, to which she nodded her
head.  "Amy is, without a doubt.  But she will tell you that
herself.  Lindsay is turning into one, though she's also a
wonderful sweetheart.  I used to think Torrie was a slut,
but not anymore.  Still, I care about all three very much...
as I do the rest of the ladies, including you."
   "The people where I live are so negative toward me," she
said.  "I may be adventurous, but I was young and stupid
back then.  I let my boyfriend talk me into it.  Looking
back, it was something I should have never agreed to."
   "If you don't like your hometown... why haven't you moved
away from it?"
   "I can't," she replied.  "I can't afford it.  I still
live at home, with my family.  I'm 24, and have never moved
out.  I don't make enough money to live on my own."
   I smiled at her.  "The three million dollars you will get
for spending the winter here should take care of that."
   "I rather just stay here, to tell you the truth," Devon
told me.  "The island is so beautiful.  It's unlike anything
I have ever seen before.  If you and Pamela see fit, I rather
stay here.  I don't need to see Pennsylvania ever again."
   "What about your family?" I asked.
   "What about them?" she responded.  "All those years, and
they have never forgiven me for what happened in high school.
They were humiliated too, you know.  But still... you'd think
that after awhile, my own family would soften up on me a bit.
Unfortunately, that's not the case."
   "Your family could have relocated, and avoided the public
humiliation all together," I told her.  "It seems as though
that would be the logical thing to do."
   "Logic doesn't apply with my family," she returned.  "I
understand that they were mad at me, and really still are.
But families are supposed to stick together.  I was young,
and stupid back then.  I made a mistake.  I shouldn't have
to spend the rest of my life as an outcast because of it."
   "You're not an outcast here, sweetheart," I said to her,
with a smile.  "Torrie feels very similar to the way you do.
Why don't people care about her?  What does she do wrong?
There are plenty of boyfriend problems, too.  Trish, an
ex-boyfriend of hers... he sold home movies of her and their
mutual girlfriend having sex together, to video stores."
   "That's despicable!" Devon spat back, angrily.
   "I know," I agreed.  "Many of the others have had bad
things happen to them, too.  My ex-fiancee, Victoria... she
left me standing at the altar - for another woman.  She ran
off with her, with all of my friends and family looking on
in the wedding chapel.  THAT was humiliating."
   "We all have dark memories," Devon said.  "No one is
immune to it.  I just wish I could find someone who cares
about me - as a person.  Maybe my biggest problem is that I
never moved away from that old, boring town.  Everyone knew
me there, and thought of me as a slut.  Maybe that is why I
could never find anyone to really care about me."
   "You couldn't afford to move away, though," I told her.
   "Right," she said.  "But still, I want you to remember
one thing, Jeremy.  I WOULD never do ANYTHING to come
between you and Pamela.  NEVER.  It's so obvious how much
you and her are in love together.  Just seeing and being
around that type of relationship makes me happy."
   "How about jealous?" I asked her.  "You feel that way?"
   "Yes, but not in a bad way," she responded.  "I'm jealous
of Lindsay, too.  I want to be like her.  I want you and
Pamela to care about me the same way you care about Lindsay.
It may be early, but I hope it's not too much to ask."

   If there was one thing that I was certain about with
Devon - thanks to her personality profile on my computer -
it would be that she was an honest, straightforward person.
The computer program which Christina had designed told me
so.  It was not Devon's nature to lie or hide the truth.
   Thus, my fears were quelled.  Devon was not looking to
drive a wedge between Pamela and myself, for her own evil
doings.  She was not a liar and besides, nothing Devon had
said or did over the past several moments made me doubt her
sincerity in any single way.  Her words, her body language
and natural reactions... everything was sincere.

                           * * *

   Just as I leaned back and took in the wondrous sight of
the enchanting Devon, who was wearing just an oversized
night-shirt, there was a loud, nasty THUMP at the door.
   Seated in the bed, with Devon in front of me, I turned
around with a very startled look in my eyes.  What in the
world was that noise?  It sounded like someone had thrown a
ton of bricks into the door.

   A second later, the door bursted open, and I saw Pamela.
My wife looked like she never had before.  Pamela looked
mad.  She looked ANGRY.  She looked like she could rip
someone's heart out, and not even think twice about it.
   "Pamela?" I said, my voice timid as I glared at her.
"What... is there something wrong?"
   My wife, with venom in her eyes, pointed to Devon and
hissed, "Get her out of here.  NOW."
   "What?" Devon said, confused, as I got up and slowly
moved toward Pamela.
   "What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked, being calm.  Pamela
was BOILING with anger...
   "Get her out of here," she demanded again.  "Get that
bitch off the island.  Send her home.  NOW."
   "Why?" I asked, drawing the word out.  "What... what is
wrong, sweetheart?  Why are you upset?"
   "Why are you mad at me?" Devon squealed at Pamela, looking
hurt and upset herself.  "What did I do wrong?"

   With those words, my wife lost it.

   My eyes were wide and bulging when Pamela shoved past me,
and jumped directly onto Devon.  She landed upon her knees,
astride Devon's chest, and immediately grabbed her hair.  A
split-second later, Pamela was screaming out in a mad rage
as she pulled and yanked Devon's long-flowing hair, while
bouncing her head upon the mattress in the process.
   I was so shocked and surprised that it took me a second
or two to realize that Pamela - my sweet, wholesome wife, and
the matriarch of the island who loved these girls the same
way I did - was fighting Devon.  She wanted to hurt her.

   Devon was screaming - probably shocked herself - but was
not returning any of the offense.  I quickly stepped forward
and grabbed Pamela by the shoulders, and pried her off of
Devon.  It took a lot of strength and power to combat her
mysterious rage, but I was able to succeed.
   "What is wrong with you?" I said to Pamela, completely
stunned.  "Why are you acting like this?"
   When a groggy and disoriented Devon sat up on the bed,
Pamela let out another scream and broke free of my hold.
She straddled Devon again, and began to wail away at her
unguarded face with a series of open-handed slaps and hits.
   "WHAT IN THE HELL HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?" was my crazed
roar, as I soon pulled a kicking and screaming Pamela away
from the bed.  This time, she was not going to break loose
of my grip.  I would not let her.

   Slowly but surely, Devon sat up, holding her mouth and
jaw.  When she removed her hand, my heart almost sank in
my chest.  I noticed a stream of blood trickling from her
nose.  The mere sight made me flinch, and feel sick.

   "What have you done, Pamela?" I said quietly, as my wife
struggled and fought to break free.
   "GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Pamela screamed, looking at Devon.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN COME HERE AND RUIN OUR LIFE!  GET OUT!  I
DON'T WANT YOU HERE ANYMORE!"
   I spun Pamela around so that she was facing me.  Holding
onto her shoulders rather tightly, I looked her directly in
the eyes and said, "What's wrong?  What happened?"
   "That bitch is trying to destroy our marriage!" Pamela
said to me, still upset, but also trying to control and
corral her heated anger.
   "Wh-What?" Devon said, crying.
   "I've heard all I need to hear!" Pamela hissed, still
looking at me.  "She is trying to destroy our marriage!  She
wants you, Jeremy, and wants me out of the way!"
   "No!" I shot back, shaking my head.  "Devon is not like
that, Pamela.  Where did you hear this?  Who told you this?"
   "Cassidy!" Pamela exclaimed, as Devon cried in shock.
"You have to get her off the island, Jeremy!" Pamela added.
"If you love me, you will send Devon home.  She wants to
destroy us, Jeremy.  She... she probably wants your money!"
   "That's a lie!" Devon cried out, covering her eyes in
total shame.  Some of her blood had dripped onto my bed...


                  <<<- End of Part 13 ->>>


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