Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir] (12 page)

He sat down now to his meal, took the Princess on his lap, with her body half curled in his arms, her head upon his left shoulder and his right hand free to play with her while the blonde girl brought him food, though he required but a light repast. The young girl's pleasure was food enough for him. Sometimes he would lift her nipples on his fingers, pulling them gently outwards, then turning them up and, with the tip of his little finger, stroking the nipple's underside. At other times, his hand would venture further, splitting the dark moist fruit between her legs and applying that fingertip touch within. And any welling oily droplet would be caught - upon a fingertip or a titbit or a small fruit, perhaps - and tasted. Small tufts of bread - the inner part of the bread rolled into small soft white balls - would be wiped upon her female lips, outside and within, until the pure white darkened with collected moisture, then he would deliver it, spiced with her saltings, quickly into his mouth. And the air would gradually strengthen with the smell of yeasted female heat.

And at such times as he judged fit, he would lift the young girl's upper leg, take the iron stem in his hand this time and bed the tip against the sleeve and the iron would slip freely in. Having done this, he would make her close her yellow-stockinged legs and perhaps he would rearrange her hair, which lay so deliciously heavily upon her shoulders or her breasts and reflected the light in narrow snakes of copper, bronze and gold. He would lift the chain between her wrists to expose her underarms. He would make her hold her wrists up while he brushed the curls that nested in the hollows. And it seemed to him his fingertips could almost taste the aroma there. But his fingertips were always anxious to be on the move, to explore her every intimacy, to get to know her body very fully by touch, that even when she was gone, the skin of his fingers would remain imbued with her taste and he would need simply to close his eyes and he would see her again. So once her flesh had become adjusted to the presence of the sheathed iron stem inside her, he would slip it out and form the sleeve into a cup. His thumb would rest within this cup whilst his fingers held her sex lips wide. And then he would want to hold her nubble with his claw.

He would make her sit astride the padded arm of the chair. The claw, curving down, would be used to lift the hood and to press against the nubble, which, like a soft wet pip, would squeeze between the polished points that he might touch it with his finger. And he would always make her lean back when he did this, in order to make her belly arch. He would brush back the wet hairs from the vicinity of her sex, which would appear as an open black-lipped pouch with the nubble trapped between the blue steel pincers at the very tip. Then he would proceed to rub this small pink nubble slowly with a wetted finger until her belly pulsed and bulged, her breathing became strained and her sweet thighs tried to grip about the armrest. At such a point, he would instruct her to open her thighs and to remain very still while the nubble was wetted and the rubbing resumed, that he might watch her belly gradually distend against the force of swelling pleasure. It would make him want to kiss its perfect rounded pushed-out form. It would make him want to kiss her at the moment of her pleasure, to feel the warmth and tightness of that skin against his lips and to taste her sweet round trembling shudders when she came. But instead, he would return her to his knee to touch her and proceed with the repast.

In due course the attendant returned with a covered dish, placing it purposefully on the table by the captain, then retreating. The captain called the blonde girl over. She knelt beside the chair, at Anya's feet, while Anya lay across the captain's lap, her naked body warmly cradled in the rich red coat, her legs enveloped to the creases in bright yellow wool. The girl lifted up the heavy iron stem from the table. 'Not yet,' said the captain. He nodded towards the covered dish and Anya was afraid. The girl lifted the lid and immediately the air was pervaded by the scent of fish, not a strong scent, but a warm and sweet one. She offered the bowl. When it tilted, Anya heard the sound of soft shells sliding. The captain reached inside and what he pulled out made Anya shrink away. It was a large dead insect, as big as Anya's thumb, with a long pointed head with feelers, a tightly curved body and tail, and many legs beneath its belly. Yet this insect was not black but pink. He held it in his right hand, slipped the upturned double claw behind its head and pulled. The head came off and dropped into the bowl. Then he held the body in the claw and pulled the legs off. Finally the skin was peeled back, shed and he held up a soft curved tapering white sliver, criss-crossed by pale red veins. He lifted it, as if to eat it, then instead offered it to Anya. She sealed her lips tightly and twisted her head away. He shrugged and offered it to the girl.

And it was as if he offered the most delicious sweetmeat in the world. She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her blonde hair dangled down in finger-thick wavy snakes as if it had been worked repeatedly about a finger until it was smooth. Her eyebrows seemed so strange - dense black - with the long curved black eyelashes below. The full lips opened and closed about the sliver, which was taken in and slowly chewed. Then the eyes opened in a heavy-lidded smile; the lips pouted again. The captain peeled another morsel, then a third and fed them to the girl. The smell of sweet warm fish was appetising. When he offered one to Anya again, she turned her head away more slowly: now that she had seen the girl's reaction, she half wanted to take it. It had brushed against her lips. It was warm; the taste on her lips was sweet and salty; it was fish - but a tastier kind of fish than she had known. The captain replaced the peeled fish in the bowl. Very gently, he turned her head back. He lifted aside her hair, touched her earlobe. And perhaps it was the way that he did that - touching reverently, as you would touch a perfect creature - perhaps it was something in the clearness of his eyes, but at that point, something happened in Anya's belly. It was as if a weight which had been slowly building up there suddenly melted, as if warm oil flowed inside her body. And she took the titbit that he offered on the claw. She closed her eyes and took it on her tongue and folded her tongue around it until her tongue touched metal. And when she felt him touch her belly, she spread her legs wide - not caring that the girl was there - for him to touch her. When the fingertips took her nubbin, she squeezed the fish flesh between her teeth, gently at first, but ever tighter, until it burst, while her own flesh was held open, the nubbin gently turned and touched until it swelled like the tightly doubled warm and rubbery fish that again was pushed into her mouth, this time by the girl. It was the girl who fed her - slim fingertips pushing between Anya's willing lips - while the captain continued to fondle her between the legs until she moaned. And it seemed this was the signal.

Her eyes stayed shut but between her legs, she felt the lips being parted, this time by the slim fingers, and she did not resist. She felt the fingertips explore inside her, then retreat. Then she heard the fish being peeled, close between her yellow-clad thighs, and she felt its skin being placed upon her naked belly. Again the lips were parted. She could not breathe; she felt the fish - thick like a thumb, but softer and warmer - being slipped between the lips, which then were closed about its bulging curve. The tail of the fish was slipped beneath the hood; it pressed against her nubbin. The arrangement was smoothed down; the sex lips, warm and thin now, were wetted with a finger. Thick saliva coated them, rendered them shiny black and sealed them round the bulge of pink. Her legs were tucked up and the pink pushed through; it was resealed. The iron cock was lifted, the projecting cup of furry skin was spread back, the cock was fitted, the bottom opened, the belly arched and the cock slipped smoothly in to fill the inner sleeve. The pink pushed through again; it was resealed. Two slim fingers were thickly wetted with saliva. Pushing downwards, they entered the sex without disturbing the pink. Inside they could feel the warmth and the cooler iron against the thin flexible wall. They turned, cupped forwards, reaching up behind the nubbin and massaged; the pinkness bulged again. A small tongue pressed against it to hold it down and the nubbin was trapped between the fingers massaging from behind and the rubbery pinkness pressed against it by the tongue.

Anya's head began to move from side to side, as if she were in fever. In her belly, the weight had formed again and it was pushing forwards, down. Her thighs began to tremble. The tongue lifted away. The captain's hand moved down. Gradually and alternately her stocking tops were unfurled. The bareness of her inner thighs was rubbed, with the two slim fingers still inside her and the cockstem in her bottom. It was as if his fingers were tasting her thighs. They rubbed gently, slowly back and forth, then moved up to touch her where the fingers entered and where the cockstem held her bottom open, then up again to be against the roundness of her belly. They remained there, held it, rubbed it, only the rounded skin, so swollen up with the nearness of pleasure, while the tongue returned to press the pink. When Anya groaned and pushed her belly into the hand and squeezed her bottom around the sheathed iron and her sex around the fingers, the tongue quickly slipped beneath the fish, lifted it away and the fingers slid out. Then she felt the girl's lips above her face. She could smell the fish; their lips touched and the fish was pushed into her mouth. It filled her throat, then suddenly slipped down it. The girl's tongue pushed deep into her mouth, as if trying to follow, until Anya could not breathe. But the kiss continued while Anya felt the captain's hand between her legs, and first the cock and then its sleeve being drawn out from the tightness of her bottom. The girl lifted away. Anya opened her eyes. She saw the blonde hair, the dense black eyebrows, the wide bright eyes and on the upper lip a very faint pale down, which brushed against her as she was kissed again, and the girl's fingertips touched the soft down on her jawline. In Anya's belly, beneath the pressure of the captain's hand, the weight inside remelted.

She was carried to the bed then fastened in the middle of it by a single chain which looped round the chain between her wrists and was drawn and fastened under the end of the bed above her head. By this means, her body was free to rotate about this single axis, that she might be made to lie on her back, or on her front or side, as necessity dictated and her legs, clad in the long bright yellow stockings, might be completely free to move - to be opened or closed, or to be doubled up perhaps, if she were on her back, or on her front and kneeling.

Standing by the bed, the captain watched the beginnings of this scene. The Princess was outstretched, her full breasts pressed into the soft relief of his damask sheets, black-brown swollen tips pressed into the cream. Her legs were moulded separately in the yellow stockings which had to be rolled up again to bed into the creases of her thighs, to flare out and to cup her buttocks - slightly separated - while the blonde girl, half kneeling, half sitting, thighs apart, blonde fleece against the cream, leisurely fitted the iron cockstem into its fur skin glove before resting it against the groove between the open cheeks. Then she took from the bowl beside her another prawn, peeled it, placed it lengthwise between two fingers and slipped it underneath. While she worked the sleeved stem gradually into the spreading black cup, her fingertips slowly rubbed the prawn against the open bud beneath. The captain then left, accompanied solely by delicious visions such as these.

He stood on deck in the still night air, a solemn watchmate to the silent steersman beneath an inky, star-pranked sky. When he returned two hours later, the Princess, still chained, was on her back. The girl was kneeling across her, sucking one nipple, touching her between the legs.

'Has she ...?' the captain asked.

The girl shook her head slowly without removing the nipple.

But whether the Princess had or had not, her sex was overflowing between the blonde girl's fingers and there was a damp patch on the damask cream. And the insides of the tops of her stockings were cut by two crescents of deeper yellow as a consequence of her wetness. Beside her was a bowl of heads and legs and carapaces, the iron stem, unsleeved now and probably recently withdrawn, and a narrow hard roll-shaped cushion covered in prickly fur. 'You have done well,' the captain nodded slowly. 'You may continue.' The girl lifted this roll and drew it horizontally up the Princess's belly, to her breasts. The Princess moaned. The girl rolled the stockings back and stroked it over the insides of the thighs. The Princess whimpered. And the captain was moved. Between his legs, his cockstem stood erect. It was time, he knew, for otherwise this young woman's pleasure would very soon spill. He called for his steward and dispatched him. The man returned a few minutes later with a bucket of cold water drawn from the sea. By that time, the captain had disrobed and the Princess lay on her belly with her open thighs spread upon the roll of prickly fur, which was turned so its pile swept upwards. While the iron stem was dropped into the freezing bucket, the captain began his pleasure with the Princess. He separated her thighs more fully. He spread her sex lips wide about the fur. He withdrew the sleeve from the small black puckered mouth and he stroked that mouth. Then he anointed it with unction, pressed the cap of his very rigid stem against the tight but slippery mouth and pushed. It slipped smoothly in and up through the tight rim into the freer ground, until his ballocks rolled against her buttocks and rubbed against the fur, which tortured her tender skin with a thousand little points pricking into it. And on the forward push, his cock sank deeper into the warmth, the unction bathed his plum with pleasure. On the pull, the girl's fleshy hood was drawn back and the long spines of the fur slipped beneath to prick into her nubble.

But even this constant pricking would not stay the girl forever, for each forward thrust was up-pile - smooth wet rubbing - and would threaten to bring the pleasure on. So at such times as her moans became too deep, too urgent, he would lift her on his cock to break her contact with the fur. As the imminence waned, he would lower her again, separating the lips about the fur and pushing up inside until he felt her first contraction, before pulling until her flesh was pricked, then lifting her again, until the slightest touch of flesh against the pricking fur made her bottom tighten until his cockstem hurt. He knew then to turn her on her side with her bottom still impaled and to allow the girl to take command.