Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir] (35 page)

But it was as if a burning brand was placed across him where his cockstem joined his bag; and now she kept smacking in that one place as her bottom edged closer towards his bare lips, as her fingertips smoothed his cockhead - small soft fingers rubbing gentle wet circles around the underside of the plum, then lifting the bag, spreading it, holding his tip in place for the smacking, then touching the burning tubes inside him - numb at first, then prickling with heat - then rubbing the inch-wide band of bright red skin that formed a half collar round the base. And all this time, the skin of his bag softened, yielded and spread until the shapes of the bumps inside were clear and could be tested individually while the head of his cock was sucked, the small pink eye of the buttocks nudged against his chin and her scent came even stronger in his nostrils.

Then the smacking was repeated with his legs open, his ballocks lifted and Ikahiti taking over the leather band. She used it as a whip upon the place where the seam of skin extended down into the groove between his buttocks, while the blonde girl sat and opened herself upon his lips and kissed them with her bottom. She bathed his cheeks and lips and nose with her heat - not the heat of her sex, but the heat of her bottom - while she kept the tip of the cock collared with her thumb and finger, wetted to make them slip, and Ikahiti smacked the hard smooth flesh below the bag until that flesh was taut and red, as if below the skin was a curved iron bar that stiffened their victim from his cocktip to his bottom. Then the leather band was passed back to the blonde girl. Ikahiti's fingers pushed inside the Prince and lifted, kept the pressure up against that sensitive place, while the blonde girl held the end of his cock in a lightly closed palm, with her thumb rubbing gently back and forth upon the undersurface, and the thin leather band whipped down - at the base again, falling sometimes on the tube within and causing it to pulse, falling sometimes on the cords inside that fed into his ballocks and, when his bag was gathered in Ikahiti's free hand and held, falling sometimes to the sides. And curiously, it was the smacking of the sides - between his legs, next to his ballocks, close to the creases - that almost brought him on, while Ikahiti's fingertips maintained that upward pressure inside as a gentle urging against the root zone of his stem. When they were satisfied that his excitement was aroused to the brink of coming, they collared his cockstem at the base and at the plum with two soft leather cuffs and tied his legs together at the ankles and the knees, then gagged him with the velvet but turned him that he might see his true love's face when her pleasure was delivered.

Anya's thumbs were untied; the cuffs about her nipples and toes were released, the cords about her thighs were freed and every place that had been constricted was sucked - her toes alternately, and her thumbs, then her nipples and, in stages, the complete circumference of the tops of her thighs. Then with Ikahiti positioned at her front and the blonde girl at her back, she was touched inside; the fingers entered gently; her inner wet was bathed about her sex and belly. It was tasted, it was smeared about her bottom, then she was sucked at the back and at the front. The tongues slipped into her alternately. When she began coming on, the suction at the front was stopped. Her leg was lifted that her man might see her belly tremble while the small tongue continued slipping into her from behind. Her nipples were worked with fingers previously wetted inside her sex; her belly was rubbed then licked, then her sex was sucked again until the trembles came once more. And so her pleasure continued; the women changed places; the lips and tongues were replaced by fingers when the pleasure came too strongly and her inner wet was gradually distributed over her upper thighs, into the groove of her bottom and over her belly until the animal smell of heat and the sour sweet smell of spittle hung upon the air and her pleasure was at last delivered with her toes curling up so tightly that they cramped. And that pleasure was delivered by the lightest touch of Ikahiti's tongue, licking the base of the ring. It was the last time that Ikahiti ever touched her. The blonde girl slipped a plaited cord about her belly and the women left.

Anya reached to untie her Prince, then hesitated: the women had left several things on the bed. She recognised two of them straight away - a thin leather bandage and a small round pebble. The other two items were new to her - one was an ornament, a very heavy gold snake, and the other was a large gold ring. When she touched the snake, it moved; it was segmented. She shuddered. It reminded her of the creatures in the pool. She looked at the Prince - he was turned on his side. Then she saw the velvet gag and realised what it was. When she touched it, a buzzing came in her ears and a churning in her belly.

Anya stroked her Prince, then untied his legs and took the collars from his stem. She picked up the snake; its body thickened only slightly at its head, which was about as wide as the ring. She examined the ring itself, it was more like a collar which flared out at each end. Suddenly, Anya knew and again she experienced the feeling that had come upon her that morning when she had seen her Prince defencelessly asleep and she had wanted to bite his earlobe until it bled. But now that feeling did not frighten her. She felt warm in her belly and excited. She snuggled up to him, wetted the ring and held his hot bare cockstem in her hand. When she pushed him over on to his belly and he watched her wet the ring again, she heard him murmur. But again she felt the warmth inside.

The entrance was tight. 'Shh ...' she whispered, 'Shhh ...' to reassure him. But she worked the short gold tube into him until it stayed in place, holding the muscle open, however much he might subsequently tighten, and tighten he surely did when the thick gold flexible snake was slipped inside the entrance, through the ring. She made him kneel with his head down and his bottom in the air, in the way she had seen Ikahiti do with her slave. 'To make you more accessible to this pleasure,' said she, for she meant to take her time. She collared the tube and slid the outer skin to draw it tight. His ballocks hung down; the bag was loose from the warmth of his exertions; the fingertips of her other hand could support the bag and sink into the softness of its skin and she could feel the bumps moving inside him. They felt so vulnerable when she squeezed them. And every so often, the heavy gold snake could be fed a little deeper, drawn by gravity and the contractions deep within him which the slow milking of his cockstem would induce. Anya held the bag and kept sliding the tube of skin until the thick droplet of milt appeared. As always, she tried to control this droplet, extending the stimulation to his belly and his nipples, brushing the soft hairs of the backs of her hands and forearms gently across his skin, then taking the ballocks in her mouth and sucking, then rubbing the bridging flesh below the ring, then when the droplet had thickened and welled to the point of detachment, initiating that detachment by edging his thighs wider yet apart, tickling the tip of his spine and taking the tail of the snake - the only part now visible - and gently twisting, then watching the powerful painful contraction against the unmoving metal ring as the droplet began to sink down smoothly on a thread of crystal silk. She caught it on her fingertip, lifted the gossamer thread back up and spun it round the plum. Then she tasted the seepage on her finger. On this occasion, she would not allow herself to taste the fullness of the final pulse. She would draw it but it would not be permitted to emerge. That trapping of his fluid deep inside would surely hurt him. It caused a shiver in her belly - that this kind of pleasure would hurt him. It was a wrongful thing to do to him, she knew. But on this occasion, she would do it anyway.

She rubbed him gently up to dripping point again, then took the stone and pressed it very firmly to the base of the stem, in the way she had seen the women do to their captives, closing the tube then sealing it with the leather bandage. Then she sucked the silky liquid that remained within the stem. She removed his gag, placing it carefully aside, then slipped under him, between his legs and let him suck her. In fact she forced him to suck her, holding his head against her. And she pushed the cockstem with her lips, kept pushing the wet cup of her lips against it until the welling tension came and she felt his body start to tremble. Then she pressed her hand against his belly and slid the snake out, completely out, though very slowly, so the pleasure would not erupt inside, and she pushed her lips against his cocktip at intervals to keep the feeling keen. She slipped her middle finger through the ring and into him and touched him from inside, kept stroking him, then tapping against that hard front wall as her mouth slipped slowly down to engulf the remainder of stem until his thick plum filled her throat and she could not breathe. When she felt him shudder, she kept her mouth very still while the pad of her middle finger rubbed, or rather rolled, like a small ball of pressure inside him, rocking against him, causing everything to explode, causing the pressure of the milt inside him to force a pain that was exquisite while the cruel sweet lips stayed tightly closed around the leather band, sealing him completely. And throughout these long and harsh contractions, the warm sweet body below him kept brushing against his naked skin and her warm wet sex kept kissing its soft thick lips into his open mouth. Here was a woman he could surely die for; in fact he almost had - he felt as if he had burst completely open, deep inside.

Anya slithered out from under him. She was satisfied, for the present. She removed the instruments of torture and lay beside him, kissing his face and neck and nipples. She kissed the earlobe with the ring and nipped it with her teeth and sucked it until she tasted blood. She untied his hands, then lay behind him with her breasts and belly pressed against his back and took his stem in the soft brushed velvet cloth and gently held it in her hand. When he fell asleep, she drew the covers over them, but continued to touch him while he slumbered.

A short time later, a strange incident befell. The Princess came quietly into the room and she crept up to the bed. Anya pretended to be asleep but saw Kalisha stroke the Prince's skin, then slip her fingers under his chin and whisper something. Though he did not hear her, Anya did.

'Sweetdream-sire,' said Kalisha, then she left. The words, though broken, were quite distinct. How had the Princess picked the words up - especially these words? Then Anya saw that the gold snake had been taken. She looked at the Prince, who still slept, and her eyes grew wide - around his neck now was Kalisha's gold necklace bearing the jewelled sword. She knew then that it was time for them to leave.

She turned him, smoothed her hands upon his chest, then touched his sex, rubbing it gently. When it was fully awake, she whispered softly: 'Did I hurt you more than she did, Sire?'

'More than who did?' he replied.

'The Princess. Your Kalisha.' Anya lifted the jewelled sword hanging round his neck and the Prince's colour drained. 'She did this?' said Anya. She touched the score marks still visible below the shallower red bands in his skin. He did not answer. 'When you spent the night with her?' she ventured. And the Prince of Lidir looked away, from shame. Anya gave him one last chance:

'Did she take you to the clearing?' she nipped the scored flesh gently.

'The clearing? What is that?'

'You do not know, Sire?' The force of the nipping gradually increased.

'No.'

Anya set her chin. 'Then I shall arrange it that my lord finds out.'

The Prince pursed his lips; he glanced down again at the necklet, then took it off and placed it well away from him at the far side of the bed. Anya smiled. She made him sit back on his heels. She gathered the burgeoning weight of his flesh into the soft brushed velvet cloth. Two fingers pushed into her mouth and came out thickly wetted. 'Lift, Sire. There ...' And when he murmured, Anya whispered: 'No, do not close your eyes, Sire. Look at me.' He gasped; he looked into her olive eyes. 'Keep your eyes fixed only upon mine.' He groaned; her hands moved gently. 'Shhh ... Keep it close; keep it near,' she whispered cruelly. Her tongue stretched out, licked upon his upper lip and lifted it. She bit; her sweet lips sucked; her fingertips sought the pulsing vein inside him and his pleasure yielded to the velvet.

That final hour before departure, they spent upon the sun-warmed sand. Anya sifted it through her fingers, making patterns - spires of soft dream castles. Then she painted the shapes that made her name, the ones her Prince had taught her long ago. It set her thinking.

'My lord?'

'My love?'

'When we are married, Sire ...'

'Yes, my darling?' He took her hand in his.

'When we are married, my lord ...' But she faltered.

'Anya - what is it? You know that you can ask me anything.'

Her fingertip stirred the sand. Then Anya looked straight at him. 'My Prince, when we are married - will you tell me, then, your name?'

He dived for her and missed. Anya jumped up, kicked the sand and ran. He dived again; his hand snaked out and caught her ankle, and he did not let her go. For in her face was the tenderness of abiding love and, upon her cheeks, the warmth of shy desire. But when she looked up - in the split second before she kicked him - he saw the firebrands of passion that were burning in her eyes.