“Still, you’d think she’d take a stronger interest in her brother’s girlfriend. She’s really cute looking, just like JD. I wonder why he’s not bringing me to meet his dad yet.”

I shrug. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet the dad soon enough. We’re here for a week.”

“Ten days for me and JD.”

Darren is staying ten days as well, but a week was the most I was willing to stay. And I spoke with Cheryl—after thanking her for getting the clothes—to have her change my flight back to economy class. Of the many outfits she had purchased, I’d selected only three plus a swimsuit to bring along. I packed some of my own clothes.

When the guys return, I ask if we can take a walk on the beach. JD declines, so Amy passes on the walk.

“Before we go on the walk,” Darren says, “we still have to take care of your punishment.”

“For what happened on the flight?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“But…” I growl when I can see that he’s not going to change his mind.

He digs through one of the bags, which the valet had placed in our villa earlier, and takes out a small black box. He opens it to reveal two shiny balls connected by a string looped at one end.

“You know what these are?” he asks.

“Ben Wa balls,” I guess.

“You ever try them?”

“No, but I’m about to?”

I guess having to do some Kegel exercises isn’t too bad a punishment.

Darren has me lie on the bed and lift up my dress. Pulling aside my underwear, he rubs one of the balls along my clit. When I’m nice and wet, he slips the ball inside me, then pushes the second one in. He tongues my clit, and I have second thoughts about going for a walk on the beach. The sensation of the balls plus the cunnilingus are a nice pairing. And getting in an orgasm would be a nice start to the walk.

But Darren stops and pulls me off the bed. “Now we can check out the beach.”

“With the balls inside?” I ask. “What if they fall out?”

“You have the lighter beginner balls. They shouldn’t take that much work to keep in.”

As I take a few steps, I’m not sure I agree. It’s strange enough having something stuffed up my vagina that isn’t a tampon.

At least the beach is practically deserted, which surprises me, given we’re in tourist season, so I have privacy if I have an accident. For a while, all I can think of are the balls inside of me, but I do notice the softness of the sand is otherworldly. I feel like I’m stepping on baking flour.

“How are the balls doing?” Darren asks with a grin after we’ve walked quietly for a few minutes.

“Nice to see you’re enjoying my torture,” I retort.

The balls are a constant reminder of my arousal and the orgasm I was hoping to have before the walk. My body hasn’t had the chance to settle down, and I don’t know that it will with these damn balls in me.