In Search of Spice (24 page)

Mot left the Bosun, who had grabbed one of the male sailors, and came leaping up the vertical stair to the poop deck. Distracted, Suzanne saw her rush over to where Pat was thrashing away under a girl, growl and dive forward, biting into the girl’s wrist. The girl screamed, looking at Mot in terror. Pat didn’t notice. A knife spilt away from the girl’s hand but nothing registered as Mactravis chose that moment to thrust deeply into her as she stood against the cabin wall, legs apart and uniform skirt up. She moaned and pushed back strongly, meeting his frantic movement and matching his rhythm.

Sara was curled up by the helm, arms hugging herself as she fought to control the pounding of her blood. Mot’s bark reached her and she focused on the dog barking at Pat who was fucking somebody else! Incensed, she made her way over, grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled, not noticing the knife in the hand that Mot was holding and shaking. The girl dropped the knife, leaving Pat as she came to her feet and Mot released her. Her eyes filled with tears as she cradled her arm, turned and ran to the side where she dived into the sea. Sara ignored her and fell on top of Pat, pushing down her breeches and hopping out of them. He did not seem aware of the change in mount.

Dan wasn’t thinking, he was blindly thrusting away, as fast as he could, urged on by the girl’s cries of delight while her movement was taking him beyond the limits of his imagination. As he climaxed, he shuddered dramatically as a brief, blinding pain erupted in his head. The girl rolled him over gently, expelling him as he went. She slid the obsidian knife out from behind and under his ear where it pierced his brain, and absently wiped the blood away on what was left of his shirt, while she surveyed the scene.

Everywhere people were having sex, though she frowned as she realised many of the crew were with each other - she thought it strange there were women in the crew and then stared. To her astonishment some of the men were taking each other! She shook her head in amazement; the ways of the Gods proving strange and impossible to understand, as always. She checked her friend Monata, unsurprised to see her carried away, forgetting her duty. Lying back with a brawny sailor plunging between her legs, her eyes turned up into her head showing the whites and she grasped the man’s shoulders to her as she moved easily with the sailor’s rhythm. Clucking with annoyance, Hinatea moved over to help, carefully cutting the sailors throat, timing it with his lunges. The obsidian knife was cruelly sharp, cunningly flaked from the mother stone, with a long fine blade, the handle wrought from carved wood bound with greased thread. He didn’t seem to notice; neither did Monata, as he bled to death while still moving, the blood pouring down over Monata’s face forcing her to open her mouth wider to breathe.

Hinatea grunted with contentment, looking around for another victim and moved cautiously towards a ship’s couple, two sailors, male and female. She paused her approach, as the sight of them inflamed her. She scanned for another man, but seeing none returned her attention to the couple, her breathing starting to race as she felt herself tense inside and she knew she needed the man inside her as the magic started to take possession of her again.

The couple pounded away as she came alongside, the girl underneath, but when she grabbed a leg and pulled it up, she found it easy to roll them over without interrupting. Once the girl was on top, it was a simple matter to cut her throat, pull her off and replace her. As she matched thrusts with the sailor, she carefully slipped her knife back into its sheath hidden in her hair, resolving to thrash the magic out of her system before culling him.

Suzanne clasped Mactravis’ head to her shoulder, both legs off the ground and wrapped around his thighs, her eyes rolled back with the intensity of a prolonged orgasm, when she became conscious of pain lancing through her thigh. Her eyes swam back into focus and the aftermath glow receded as the pain came into the present, forcing her attention to it. Looking down Mactravis’ back she saw Mot, front legs resting on her right thigh where it wrapped around Mactravis, looking straight back at her. Mot barked.

Suzanne jerked repeatedly as Mactravis kept going and a thought swam into her head through the clouds of eroticism.
‘Mot bit me! Why?’

Mot growled loudly and bent towards her thigh again. “No,” she cried to the dog, which looked at her and wagged her tail slightly. Suzanne shuddered as the pleasure mounted, and started to close her eyes, then opened them wide in fear the dog would bite again. As she did so, an errant thought drifted across her brain.
‘Why am I fucking? I am on duty.’

“Oh Gods,” she cried out loud. “Magic! Why?” She looked down the poop deck past Mactravis’ shoulder to where the second mate was enthusiastically coupling with a girl. As she looked, she saw the girl’s hand stab down at his back, and blood fountain out. It didn’t seem to disturb the second mate, who kept going and Suzanne tried to make sense of what she was seeing as Mactravis kept thrusting into her and she tried to postpone her own orgasm. She saw the second mate start to slow down, and then Mactravis was spurting into her, tipping her over into her own pleasure.

She felt Mactravis’ legs go, and quickly got her own down, as he fell to his knees, managing to keep herself somewhat aloft on shaky legs. Holding his head tightly to her stomach, she stared in horror at the second mate, blood pooling from his back, while the girl underneath him was still moving and stretching herself languorously.

“Oh God,” she moaned, “we’re being attacked.” Her head was still fuzzy, and she fought the desire to turn Mactravis on his back and get him going again. Instead she dropped him, and reached for Mot. Grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck she dropped to her knees and stared into the dog’s eyes, trying to ground herself. Mot stared back, and licked her with enthusiasm.

Mustering a huge effort of will, she dragged herself to her feet and staggered to the railing. Wherever she looked, the crew were having sex. There seemed to be blood everywhere and several corpses, all crew, with gaping scarlet gashes across their throats, immobile on the deck. The murderous island women seemed to be deeply involved in fucking and she couldn’t see anyone being killed.

The magic pulled at her, and she turned, ready to go back to Mactravis, her loins aching with need. However in the brief moments she left him alone, one of the island girls had revived him and was astride. Suzanne felt anger and jealousy course through her, then determination filled her and she made her way unsteadily to her cabin, fortunately close by. A quick rummage in her bags and she pulled out a pendant, which protected against magic. She draped the thong around her neck to cut herself off from the magic. Immediately, the pressure eased and she could think.

She took a moment to arrange her thoughts, with Mot watching her with expectant eyes from the door. She pulled out her quarterstaff, turned and went back to the poop deck, looking for Perryn.

He was with a small, delicate girl, who was clutching him tightly with both hands, both her eyes closed as they moved slowly together.

Suzanne tapped the girl carefully on the head with her staff. She kicked Perryn firmly in the rear, knocking him off the unconscious girl, and was assisted by Mot who rushed to help and bit Perryn on the left buttock, hard.

Perryn moaned and looked up. Suzanne grabbed his ear firmly, and pressed her thumbnail into his earlobe.

“Perryn, come back! It’s a magic attack! Sort it out! Get your defences up! Oh, hell,” and she intoned a short phrase in a crackly language while leaning forward so her pendant touched his forehead. Perryn, shuddered, his eyes rolled back in his head, then rolled forward and snapped into position as he was cut off from the magic.

“Wha, what did you do? What’s happening?”

“Magic attack, from the island. It’s made everyone desperate for sex, and the islanders have come aboard and started screwing the crew. Just like you were doing.”

Perryn, frowned, his head hurting, and looked to the girl sprawled unconscious by his side. He blushed at the sight of her exposure, and it deepened as he recalled what they had been doing. His first time, and he hadn’t even known anything about it.

“Perryn, it’s worse.” Suzanne felt tears start from her eyes. “They have knives, hidden I don’t know where, and they are stabbing the men as they fuck them!”

Perryn looked at her wide-eyed, and watched as she leant over and searched the girl. This was easy - she was naked. In moments Suzanne found the knife, tied into the hair. She pulled it out, long, wickedly sharp, and black. It looked evil.

“You saved my life,” whispered Perryn.

“Never mind that, what’s happening? What sort of magic is this? I’ve never seen anything like it!” There was a note of panic in Suzanne’s voice and she was close to tears.

“How the fuck should I know?” Perryn was scared.

“You’re a magician, damn it. Find it, stop it!” Suzanne was on the edge of hysteria.

Perryn peered up at the sky, frowned and tracked something through the air.

“It’s from back of the village. Suzanne, it is strong. I can’t send something down it to the summoner, I would need an arrow, but maybe I can block it, I think. Give me your hand; I need your strength as well.” His fright fell away as he concentrated, and Suzanne felt better, using him to ground herself.

He grasped her hand, closed his eyes and frowned. Nothing happened. Perryn’s brow furrowed and she felt something drag at her, flinched as it poured down her arm into Perryn.

Suzanne felt the magical aura fluctuate around the ship. Even the pigs were fucking.

“They’re still at it, Perryn.” Suzanne had reclaimed her arm, and was rubbing her shoulder where there was a residue of pain. She felt weak and tired, though that was nothing to the wreck Perryn had become.

“Umm, it’s too strong for me. I can’t undo it or block it over the whole ship.” He looked regretfully at his earlier paramour while rubbing his head. “That hurt! Uh, is that blood?” He was staring at the second mate.

“Yes, damn it!” Suzanne cried, finding her confidence and needing action. “They are killing us while fucking us. Come on, we need to get the island girls unconscious and to snap anyone we can out of the magic. I’ll work on the first; you get cracking on the others. Uh, hang on, I think I may be able to get Mactravis back and he can work on his soldiers. They should have magical protection. Is there anyone else who has any protection against magic apart from us?”

“Umm, I’m not sure. Not thought about it. Why do you have protection?”

“Don’t be silly. How many times do you think somebody has tried to use magic to seduce me? Of course I have to have protection. Sara! She will have some.”

“Sara? A mercenary? Why?”

“She isn’t a damn mercenary, that’s why. Now get on with trying to break the spell on people, use some herbs or something.”

Suzanne strode over to Mactravis who was enthusiastically showing his soldierly endurance. She tapped the girl accurately on the head, who slumped away, then leant down and viciously dragged him off by a mixture of hair and ear, feeling him squirm and wince with a considerable degree of relish.

“What...” he looked round angrily, bracing himself on his arms.

“Get up Mactravis and do your duty! The ship has no defence, we’re being attacked and none of your men are fighting! Stand To, Mactravis!”

This last, with its inherent call to immediate danger that was drummed into his blood from years of military service, provided the desired effect and he staggered up, looking questioningly at Suzanne, the light of his eyes still obscured but a semblance of intelligence in the depths. She lifted up her pendant and touched it to his forehead.

“Mactravis, it’s a magic attack. It’s making everyone want to have sex; they send girls aboard with knives in their hair and they kill the men while fucking them.”

Mactravis’ eyes widened, and he looked down the poop deck, seeing the second mate in a pool of blood.

“Get a grip, Mactravis, and get your soldiers sorted. I need some defence on this ship. And put your trousers on.” She kicked him vengefully in the thigh, his instinctive movement protecting her real target confirming he was almost back to normal.

She turned and stalked over to the Captain, keeping an eye on Mactravis as she did so. Mactravis, looking totally shocked, moved towards his men as he fastened his trousers. Little was lying on a girl and he kicked him viciously in the side. Little grunted and pushed himself upwards from the girl, revealing he was holding her hands down while he was inside her. Mactravis saw the knife in her right hand. Clearly Little was not unused to having his paramours stab him.

Mactravis kicked Little again. “Stand to, damn you! Get off that woman and get your section in order. Find me Sergeant Russell and have him report.”

Little raised himself up slowly, looking down at the girl who watched him through half closed eyes. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, his hand going into a pocket and pulling out a charm. He brushed it against his lips, then his forehead. His eyes cleared and hardened. “You go help with the officers, sir; I’ll sort out the men. This ain’t officer work. We’ve all got charms against this sort of magic, just didn’t expect it here, I reckon. Gotten soft.”

Mactravis went over to Suzanne. She had knocked out the girl with the captain, and the one with Brian, and was carefully easing a knife out of Brian’s shoulder. She looked up at Mactravis.

“Nasty looking thing,” she gave him the blade. “What is it?”