Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir] (32 page)

Travix lifted Niri easily - she was light. And though Niri protested faintly to be used so soon again in that way, Travix carried her across to the large circular mirror, but did not put her down. While Niri's toes writhed and reached and sometimes touched the glass itself as she struggled to keep her legs wide open and her sex agape, Travix held her round the waist and in reflection, watched her fingers caress the small bare painted lips and moisten them and slip inside the gape.

Without releasing the girl, Travix lifted a small cushion on to the dressing-table top. She placed Niri's back upon this cushion. Her feet, upraised, lay pressed against the glass, so it now appeared that two Niris touched each other, toe to toe. Niri's head fell back; her hair hung down from the edge and touched the floor. From the drawer to the right, Travix removed the heavy gold cylinder and unsheathed it from its blue silk glove. The cylinder was flat at one end and necked to form a bulb at the other. Niri's belly became tight. Travix whispered but Niri knew to open her legs - her small toes crawled up and out across the surface of the glass. Travix worked in reflection; she applied the blue ointment to the small brown-purple mouth, then she pressed the bulbed end against it, rolling it like a ball, not wishing to rush it, for the bulb was large, and Niri of course was small. But her patience was rewarded; Niri opened and took it to the neck. Travix rocked the cylinder, which rolled the bulb in Niri's body; then she slipped it deeper, past the neck and Niri, though she murmured, distended quite sufficiently to take it. Then Travix pushed Niri, on her cushion, closer to the mirror, until the flat end of the cylinder touched it. And now it appeared that the two Niris were joined together by a single cylinder of gold. With Niri in this precariously balanced position, Travix traced her fingertips over the delicate patterns inked into the smooth lips of that sex, until she heard a murmur from behind her.

Looking across, she saw the blonde girl lying on her side. She was waiting, her small oval belly pushed out, her pink-tipped nipples brushing against the sheet and her hand caressing the ballocks of the bone cockstem which she kept teasing from beneath the pillow next to her. When the cap emerged, she released the ballocks and looked at Travix with wanton eyes; then her body wriggled like a snake across the surface of the sheet until the cap was captured in her mouth and her pouted lips slowly began to swallow.

Travix left Niri and walked back to the bed. She watched the perfect body - wrists clasped together behind her back - arching diagonally across the sheet, with the white stem now buried to the ballocks between those impudent full red lips. Bending forwards, Travix touched the strands of twisted hair that lay across the cheek, then raised them to her lips and kissed them. They felt cool and silky. She could smell the scent of Niri on the ballocks of the stem. It excited her. This blonde girl excited her far more. She wanted her on the sheepskin, with its smooth slippy curls against the girl's breasts and belly and naked thighs, for the girl was shaved now and Travix had found she preferred her that way. She swept the coverlet away and spread the sheepskin on the bed. The girl rolled aside, then back again, face down, one leg drawn up in readiness. Travix stood up, slowly unbuttoned her tunic top, then removed it quickly. Her large tight breasts protruded proudly above her very narrow waist.

Then Travix heard a sound - a splash to starboard. It seemed out of place. She went to the window and drew aside the curtain. Night was fast approaching. The water seemed calm and the mist had lifted. She could see the entrance to the lagoon that they had sailed past that first day without ever noticing in their haste. A whole village, they had missed. But tomorrow they would take it. Tomorrow, the slave deck would be filled and Travix would be busy. Tonight, she could relax. She thought again of the Princess. Then she looked across and saw the blonde girl sitting up, reflected above Niri in the mirror of her dressing table, and again the feeling came so strongly in her belly that it hurt.

Suddenly Travix was beside the bed. The girl, kneeling now, tensed, then realising, pushed her belly outwards for Travix to kiss. She held her arms up, exposing herself fully for Travix's lips to explore the skin of her belly and breasts and underarms. She pushed her belly down, spreading her thighs, so the soft waxy curls of the sheepskin kissed the sex that Travix had shaved to make it so sensitive to the kissing and to the touch of Travix's nipples. The creamy yellow curls brushed coolly against her bare sex lips. Travix stroked the skin that she had shaved. She pressed her thumbs to the sides of those lips to split them open and to allow the creamy curls inside. She left the girl in that position of delicious wantonness, with her legs splayed and her open pink lips bedecked and tickled with yellow waxy curlicues, while she picked up the cockstem and gradually smoothed spittle round the plum. She eased the girl's hips up, placed the plum between the soft bare lips, pushed back, then up and in, then held it with her fingers cupped beneath the ballocks. She turned the girl then watched through the gap beneath the pink cheeks of the buttocks as her fingertips slowly lifted and the fleshpot steadily swallowed the pure white stem. And she held the cheeks open, that she might watch the small pink mouth gently gulping in sympathy with the sex lips until they had sunk down and spread about the top of the bag. Then she lowered the hips until the ballocks rested on the sheepskin. She pushed the girl forwards until her bottom lifted and she rubbed her hand from side to side across it. It caused the ballocks to appear to sway and the cock itself gradually to slip while the wet lips tried to squeeze to keep it in. Each squeeze resulted in a tight contraction of the small pink mouth, which Travix then would stroke to force another contraction. When she looked underneath, she could see that where the lips were split about the stem, the tiny bud projected red from the shelter of its hood.

With the cockstem bedded fully home, Travix laid the girl on her back. She crossed her ankles and forced a pillow under her hips to raise the belly and allow the legs to open wider. The twin eggs of the ballocks lay cupped between the pink lips of the naked mound. Travix tasted every inch of shaved skin with her fingers, then her tongue. She laved the whole mound until it was shining wet. Then she took her kitten crop and whipped it - the sides and then the lips that squeezed around the balls. And while she kitten-whipped the lips, she held the hood back and she touched the nubbin with her fingertip. The girl, of course, was whimpering; wet lines traversed her hot flushed cheeks, yet her nubbin was a boiling ball of hardness. Travix whipped again; she held the hood more firmly back and whipped only in the creases and, sure enough, the pleasure was delivered by that means; the contractions induced by the whip strokes on that bare and sensitive skin brought it on. When it came, Travix rubbed the thin and flexible end of the crop against the hot slippery ball and the pleasure continued long; for as long as Travix rubbed, the belly jerked. She carefully withdrew the cockstem and laid it on the bed. Then she wrapped her arms around the girl's waist and placed her head against the belly and rested, her full breasts rubbing between the thighs, while the oily inner warmth continued seeping out of the girl, over Travix's breasts and tickling her nipples. When Travix was quite rested, she turned the girl, penetrated her bottom with her tongue and with her fingers cupped her sex. The tongue pushed deep and the girl began to writhe. Travix spread the legs, spread the sex lips to the sheepskin, spread the cheeks of the bottom wide, removed her tongue and whipped the crop down into the groove. When the fleshy ring stood out contused, she licked it very gently and slipped the crop between the legs and swept it back and forth again across the nubbin until the pleasure came. Then Travix bit the girl's bottom, sucked it, turned her over, bit her belly, bit her breasts and neck and having thus branded her with her teethmarks, covered her with the sheepskin, offered her severed lip for the girl to kiss, then held her, whispering words of tenderness, until the girl fell asleep.

Travix put on her tunic top. It was time to attend to Niri. She removed her from the dressing-table. And though Niri murmured, knowing what was going to happen, still Travix was kind to her. She caressed her first - there was a faint spark of that first love there yet for Niri - then she made her kneel on the carpet. She tied her wrists to the leg of the bed; she pressed her forehead to the floor. She tucked her knees up until her sex pushed out behind her, then she pushed the gold cylinder steadily into her until it had disappeared. When she slid her fingers beneath and into Niri's sex, she could feel it, weighted down inside her; she could lift it on her fingertips, then feel it sink back down. She withdrew her fingers, teased the ring out and whipped the sex lips with the greenstick crop. And she knew how much to whip - she whipped until the lips had puffed up to the extent that the ring could not be seen. Then she whispered to Niri that she loved her and she sealed that love by drawing the ring out again and passing through it a long pure gold rod, perfectly straight, which pressed across the backs of Niri's thighs yet, secured as it was through the ring, prevented Niri from straightening her legs to withdraw her flesh from between them. Her sex would be forced to remain pushed out for as long as Travix might choose to leave her tied. It was cruel to Niri, for sure, to leave her tethered for the rest of the evening; but it brought a kind of satisfaction to Travix to use her in this way. And later, she would play with Niri in this position - wet her sex, probably penetrate her, bring her pleasure on in some way, then release her, and Niri would be grateful.

Travix left her for the present, tucked the cockstem in her belt and stepped out of the cabin. She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. Her face, illuminated in the flickering lamplight, looked intent yet peculiarly beautiful. She was thinking of her lovers; they were thinking of her, she knew. But she was unaware of the silent swarm of women who, at that very moment, were creeping like spiders up the side of the ship and sweeping out across the deck to parcel up the watch like dozing flies. And because she set off up the stairs, she was also unavailable to receive the Prince of Lidir when, some minutes later, he and Ikahiti broke into her room, only to be greeted by a blonde girl spitting fire at them - especially at him - and to find the long-lost Aka-lisha tied up on the floor.

Anya opened her eyes; somehow, she had fallen asleep, but the low whistling sounds had woken her. There were people running on the deck behind her, but she could not move; it hurt to turn her head. She thought at first that it was dawn and she had slept all night, but she could only have dozed, for though the sun hung low, it was evening. Her breasts ached, her wrists and feet were numb and searing pains stabbed through her shoulders. She stared down at the water far below. The fish were there, the ones she had seen on that first day. But they seemed larger and more sinister in the failing light; their bodies formed dark streamlined shapes below the water and there were three of them at least; she saw now that they had but one wing on their backs and it seemed small in proportion to their bodies. They seemed to slink through the water in interlacing sinuous patterns, as if searching for something that eluded them. For the first time, she felt afraid of the water that she had come to think of as her friend. She wanted to cry out - to plead to be released and stand again on solid ground - but she was gagged.

Then she saw three boats to seaward, like tiny slivers of gold in the evening light. Two more appeared to landward, not fifty feet away, and she knew then what the sounds on deck must be. Other boats must have passed beneath her while she was asleep. Her heart surged - the islanders were attacking; the great ship was beset. Over the next few minutes, wave upon wave of these boats appeared, moving very quickly. Yet nobody had seen her; the boats slid past and Anya could do nothing. But if they had not seen her from below, how would they ever see her at all? Slung below the bowsprit, she would never be noticed by anyone from above. She hung there, listening as the noise appeared to spread to below deck; then there were cries above her, from the men; they sounded as though they were up in the rigging. And there was laughter - women's voices amid the cries - the attackers must be winning.

With a yell, one man fell past her into the water, then another. They floundered and shouted down below - perhaps they could not swim? Then suddenly, it mattered not whether they could swim or not: there was a swift movement - the dark shapes swept across beneath the surface and both men were gone. It was as if they had never existed. She blinked and now the fish were nowhere to be seen. Anya's fear had turned to terror. How had they moved so fast? How had they known the men were in the water? The ship lifted very slightly on the swell, the ropes that fastened her to the bowsprit creaked and the fine hairs stood up on the back of Anya's neck. Then she heard sounds of a scuffle behind her; the bowsprit began to vibrate and the hairs on Anya's neck stood even stiffer. There was a clash of metal, a thud, a scream then a voice, crying: 'Stand back!' then a chopping sound as of a sword biting into wood, then the voice again, harassed yet defiant. 'Stand back - or I feed your precious Princess to the sharks!' And Anya's eyes, already wide with fear, grew large as dinner plates.

Travix stood on the bowsprit, the broad blade in her hand. The island women formed a half-ring before her. The one she had disarmed lay on the deck, groaning and retching from the punch that had felled her. Travix could not escape; she knew that; she knew the ship was taken. One boat had got away; the captain had not taken her.

In the centre of the ring, above the woman on the floor, stood the Prince of Lidir, ashen-faced, with Niri under his arm. Behind him, the remaining pirates were being herded to the deck by his lieutenant and his men. The ones in the rigging were being allowed to come down to be spread-eagled on the deck and tied. Cautiously, the Prince put Niri down. 'Keep back,' warned Travix. 'Put down your sword.' She crouched above the tethered Princess. The Prince had little choice; he obeyed. 'Now back away.' His eyes had narrowed down to slits. 'Niri ...' whispered Travix, and Niri's dark eyes widened momentarily before she looked away. Travix smiled. And when the Prince looked down at Niri, Travix saw the scratches furrowed in his cheek. That gave her cause for satisfaction too. She saw the blonde girl in the background, struggling with a native woman of great beauty, but greater strength. The woman carried a whip. Travix smiled again; she found the match appropriate. She looked again at the one who must be the Prince. He had bearing, it was true, but no strength. She despised him for that. He was fighting back the tears; his heart was thumping, Travix knew, but hers was steady - though she faced this horde of weaklings who surely wished her dead.