Shameless Exposure (10 page)

He returned to his mat. When he looked around again Regina was smiling at him, but all the other women had vacant eyes, as if looking inwards at a memory or searching for inspiration faced with a difficult exam question. They had begun their attempts to connect with the spirit, or at very least a release from a month of tortuous teasing.

Robert wasn’t sure what he was meant to be doing. Was he supposed to try to identify his animal guide? Was he supposed to masturbate to an orgasm in time with the acolytes? He soon realised that every woman bar Regina was so engrossed in her own sensations that it didn’t matter what he did. He decided to watch.

At first it seemed to be a blur of movement, a chorus of moans and sighs, a chaotic yoga class of postures. But then he saw how differently the women approached the same task. Linda, for example, had her eyes closed and was frowning deeply. She had lain down on her mat and was making tiny movements over her clitoris, with her legs clamped tightly together. If she was making any sound, he couldn’t hear it.

Greta, opposite where he was sitting and slightly obscured by the dais, was writhing around. It was hard to believe she was just one person. She was fucking herself with abandon, bucking her hips. The fingers on one hand plunged in and out of her vagina while the fingers of the other rubbed her clitoris with extreme vigour. Her eyes flashed red in the light of the roaring logs, and her mouth was a rictus of pleasure. Escalating moans were propelled from her throat like a Russian tennis player in a clay court rally.

His eyes sought out Georgina and found her languorous in the shadows. Her head was tipped back off her mat, black hair cascading over the stone floor. Her eyes were half closed as if she was conjuring up an image. She massaged her body, sensuously stroking her breasts and rolling her nipples with her fingers. Her hands moved to her stomach, and she made small circles with her fingers, getting nearer and nearer to the home of her animal spirit.

He spotted Jocasta pinching her own nipples and letting out small squeaks. Her eyes were screwed shut, imagining her animal guide he supposed. What would it be? Definitely not something warm and cuddly. A snake, a crocodile? If he remembered he would ask her at breakfast tomorrow. One hand moved lower and squeezed her clitoris and her squeaks grew louder.

His eyes were drawn to a flashing red light. Linda shouted out, one hand desperately grabbing the side of her mat while the other squeezed every last drop of the orgasm out of her labia. Her moment of release encouraged Jocasta, one finger now up her bum, to escalate her indulgence and the cries, sighs, and moans of several women rose to a crescendo.

Next to him, Joni was concentrating hard. Her masturbation was fast and frantic. She was taking in deep lungfuls of perfumed air, and panting them out in a desperate race for the cliff edge and an introduction to her animal spirit, a seagull, or a lemming perhaps. She was squeaking like a guinea-pig, and although she was getting closer to the edge of ecstasy, Robert could tell that she didn’t know how to let go, how to let herself plunge from the cliff edge. She was trying too hard, trying to make it happen instead of just letting it happen.

“O moj Boze, O moj Boze…” Greta lapsed into her native tongue as a dramatic orgasm convulsed her body. More bracelets flashed red, willed over the line by Greta’s urgings. When her body had ceased to ripple, she lay completely still with her eyes shut. Robert wondered if the animal spirit had entered her. Then he realised he was giving far too much credence to Regina’s spiritual hocus pocus. He must remember to ask Greta, though, what she thought she had experienced, just out of interest.

The gasps, expletives, and warbles began to subside, leaving the background throbbing of jungle music and a quiet sobbing on the mat to his right. Poor Joni, she was the only woman whose bracelet had not yet flashed red. Regina descended from her platform and took hold of Joni’s hand.

“I’m sorry, I feel so useless,” said Joni, weeping.

“Hush,” said Regina. “Come with me.” She led her onto the dais and gestured to her to lie down. She called the women up to the edge of the platform and had one woman hold each of her limbs so that she was stretched into a star shape.

“We must help our fellow seeker,” said Regina. “You know what you must do.” Linda soundlessly volunteered to assist, climbed onto the dais and began to lick carefully around Joni’s exposed vagina. Greta leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips, and Georgina brushed Joni’s body with her thick black hair. Linda moved closer and licked her labia, then nibbled her clitoris. Joni jerked her arms and legs but her helpers gripped her more tightly. Linda drew Joni’s clitoris into her mouth and sucked hard. Seconds later, her body bucked and spasmed, her face contorted, and she let out a yell of triumph. They let her go and she curled up into a tight ball, holding the intensity of her feelings close.

“I saw it,” she said quietly. “It spoke to me.”

“What did you see?” said Georgina. “Was it your seagull?”

“No, it was black. It was a raven with a big beak. It said it had come to release me, that I would now be free. The raven pecked out the eyes of the ugly spirit that was living in me.”

“Did all that happen just now?” said Greta.

“It was an eternal moment,” said Joni. “And I will be eternally grateful to all of you, especially you, Robert.”

“But I did nothing. I only watched.”

“I needed you here. You were in every corner of my mind; the raven flew out of you and into me. Their hands were your hands, and their mouths were your mouth. I couldn’t have reached the peak without you.”

“Did you enjoy watching, Robert?” asked Greta, smirking.

Robert was aware again of his nakedness and the erection between his legs.

“Well, yes, I suppose I did,” he said. “It was enlightening. I’m just relieved that I wasn’t needed.”

“But you are now,” said Regina. “We have released the power of the vagina spirits. They have bestowed great gifts. But now they are restless and impatient. They must be allowed to show their power, they must be fed and satiated. Only when they are fully spent can they return to the vagina lair to grow in power for another moon.”

“Of course I’d love to help if I could,” said Robert. “But I shouldn’t. Me and Caroline… we…”

“It is the traditional way to close the ceremony,” said Regina, firmly. “The spirits will be angry if they are not allowed to rest.” She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear: “Spencer will be angry too if I move the case to another firm.”

“Leave Forbes-Brown out of it,” said Robert, crossly. “Or better still, get him to take over the case himself. I’m sure he’d like a part in your ceremony.”

“Hush, Robert,” said Joni, stroking his leg. “Don’t be angry. It has to be you. The spirit was in you, it came from you. You mustn’t worry about your wife. She would understand if she was here. Nobody is married on Mura.” The temptress allowed her hand to brush his penis and her lips to prevent any reply.

 
Nine

Robert knew it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law, and especially not in the court of Queen Caroline, prosecutor and judge combined:

“When she said ‘No-one is married on Mura’, what did you take that to mean?”

“I understood it to mean that the rites of the animus philosophy took temporary precedence over the presumption of fidelity contained in the legal form of marriage on the mainland.”

“You didn’t consider the much simpler and more obvious explanation that Mura is not licensed to conduct the marriage ceremony in Scotland? I ask members of the jury to put themselves in your position,” she would say, turning to her imaginary twelve good women and true, “and ask themselves if this is not the typical behaviour of a man seeking to gratify himself when the opportunity arises, only afterwards considering what feeble explanation he can concoct to make his actions seem less guilty.”

This imaginary dialogue flashed through his mind as Joni stroked his thigh and kissed him with abandon. He was just about to embark on a defence when the rational side of his brain switched off completely, to be replaced by what felt like a raging animal desire. He had no idea which animal it was, but it was powerful, hungry, and libidinous.

He allowed Joni’s kisses to become more passionate and pushed her head down to his stiff member, more rigid and engorged than it had ever been before. She licked him delicately then sucked him ravenously, easing his foreskin down until his purple glans was flowering like an amaryllis. She pushed him back and eased herself gently onto his thick stick, gasping as it opened her wide. She kept still on him, savouring the sensation for as long she could before her desire for a second orgasm took control.

Now she knew what to do. She confidently worked herself up and down his tool, sitting up once, then twice, using her fingers on her clit to intensify her feelings. When he sensed the approach of her complete abandon, he grabbed her buttocks and pulled her in until the whole shaft was buried between her narrow hips and her clitoris was squeezed tightly against him. He felt her vagina clamp hard around his prick, once, twice, three times. Then she held still, and he thrust fully into her.

Her orgasm continued to build, possessed her, took her beyond even what she had experienced at the hands of her female helpers. She was once again released from the torture of unfulfilment that had stood in her way for so long. She cried out in pleasure, a hoarse croak, her body trembling from head to toe, and when he looked up at her he saw her face transformed, her beak of a nose sharp in the shadows, her piercing eyes glinting black like Whitby jet, her hair darkened by the sweat of her effort. He saw a raven.

He had expended little energy and his hunger for sex, far from being satiated, had been stoked by Joni’s pleasure. Jocasta and Linda had joined Regina on the dais and were conjoined in a many-limbed animal of tongues, fingers, and wet orifices. Most of the other women had pulled their mats nearer to the glowing embers of the fire and were exploring each other’s bodies. When Greta saw Joni stagger away from Robert’s penis, she peeled herself away from Georgina and set upon him.

He was more than a match for her, absorbing her energetic plunges on his sword, then springing to life. He got to his feet, lifting her up, with a strength he didn’t know he possessed, his prick deep in her soft and swollen vagina. He pushed her back against a stone column and thrust into her again and again. She grimaced with pleasure and pain, the stone rough on her back.

She slid her feet down to the floor, climbed off him, and turned round, holding the column with her hands for support, and spreading her legs apart. He plunged into her and she shouted, bracing herself more stiffly. He grasped her sore buttocks, reddened by the stonework, and fucked her roughly.

She tensed even more, shifting her feet to allow him even further inside of her. He leaned forward and his hands found her perfectly round breasts, and the feeling of his strong hands grasping her there sent her into a thunderous climax, deep Polish groans welling up from her diaphragm. She trickled exhausted down the column, spreading onto the stone floor like raindrops forming a pool of water.

He didn’t need to ask Greta about her spirit guide. Slumped on the floor, in the red light of the fire, the white light of the moon, and the deep shadow of the column, she had become a coiled snake: a red, white and black anaconda, replete with a meal of living prey.

He looked around for a new target for his lust and saw Georgina, a dark angel, staring at him, daring him. He had refused her before in the practice room, but all restraint had been removed and he strutted over to her where she kneeled in front of the fire.

She took his glistening penis in her hands and encircled it, treating it carefully like it was a precious object that might spring from her grip and be lost forever. She used the tip of his penis to stroke her nipples, and teasing him and tickling his balls, laughing at his discomfort.

He could stand it no more. He pulled away from her grasp, moved swiftly behind her, and pushed her forward onto the mat. He pushed her thighs apart and entered her, rampant. She shouted her assent, though he doubted he would have listened to instruction. He was possessed.

He brought her rapidly to a breathless climax. She tried to hide it but the orgatron gave her away. He withdrew, turned her over, and started again. They flowed together like two tributaries meeting at a rocky cascade, wild and dramatic. She gasped for air as the frantic sex took every drop of her energy, taking her suddenly over an unseen waterfall and into an endless tumble of orgasms.

He, however, had only just begun. He pulled back and looked into the deep pools of her eyes. Where the iris should have been were the gaping mouths of two silvery fish. He was no fisherman but he would have said they were salmon, but not limp in the supermarket, vibrant and leaping towards their spawning grounds. What a surprise, he thought, that her vagina spirit was a shoal of fish; and he had conjured them up.

Inspired by his newly discovered power, he re-entered her slippery vagina. She slithered underneath the weight of his hard body, rippling from side to side in a sequence of fast, exquisite movements. He dived into her repeatedly, pushing her legs wider and wider to allow his possession to be complete. He led her to another gushing orgasm. He raised himself off her in triumph, ready to offer himself to the next spirit seeker.

They all seemed content with each other, but he was now desperate to relieve the pressure that had built up in his balls. He wondered why he hadn’t had an orgasm himself. When he and Caroline made love he never had a problem coming. She didn’t like too much messing around. She liked to get on with sex and have an orgasm without swinging from the chandeliers for two hours first. They were easy and relaxed with each other, giving and loving. Not mad like this.

This sex, the moon ceremony, was like the mythical bowl of porridge that re-filled however many hungry peasants ate from it. It was a very different kind of gift, one with unexpected consequences, like people turning into spirit animals, and him turning into an insatiable stud who could fuck for hours without coming.

He couldn’t even blame the effects of alcohol, the glasses of wine at dinner being insufficient reason for the dulling of sensations. In any case, his sensations were not dulled. They were magnified to an intensity he didn’t know was possible. Is this what celebrities were seeking when they practiced tantric sex? Was it similar for Regina and her proselytes? Is this why they were willing to pay hundreds of pounds to sleep in a bunk and eat mung beans?

He looked over to the dais where the unlikely triad, Linda, Jocasta, and Regina continued to wrestle each other to animal climaxes. The wayward Jocasta was the junior of the party, and the frailest of the three, made to look more fairy-like by the stocky frame of Linda and the imposing curves of Regina. Jocasta was making the most of the moon ceremony. It was the one time when her propensity to orgasm was an asset rather than an embarrassment confessed to the sex expert on the problem page of her magazine.

She was the only woman she knew who had an orgasm on her bike on the way to work. She had made some progress in controlling her autonomic system, helped by Regina’s system of rewards and punishments. Her orgasms were less like a sneeze and more like the breathlessness at the end of a hundred metre sprint. And her two trips to the dungeon had opened up a new world of controlled pleasure and controlled pain. The wicked climaxes she had experienced down there had been shudderingly good.

Linda had seemed to Robert to be single-minded in her approach to life at Dunlaggin Castle. She had come to forget the ex-husband, and take whatever experiences were on offer; and on offer happened to be an intimate group of attractive women who were exploring their sexuality. It was no surprise that she was drawn to Regina’s imposing form and confident physicality.

While Robert had been trying to slake his lust, Regina had been instructing Linda and Jocasta in the subtle arts of lesbian sex, making them practice on her first before telling them what to do to each other. Seeing Robert had exhausted Georgina, Regina summoned him to the dais, and addressed her disciples:

“The moon ceremony enters its final phase. The spirits must be settled before the moon goes down behind the Pap of Mura. To achieve the quietening, we must witness the symbolic spilling of the male seed. As your Mother Superior, I will assume responsibility for bringing this about. Robert, come to me.”

He hesitated. The thought of having sex with Regina revolted him. Not because of her age or appearance, but because of what she had done to Caroline in Germany. He knew she had a dark and domineering character, a cruel and selfish streak that could manifest itself in unexpected ways. He wanted to believe that she had turned over a new leaf by retreating to this remote isle and exploring her spiritual side, but his lawyer brain told him to watch and keep an open mind. It was entirely possible that this elaborately choreographed ritual was part of some devilish scheme, something even more devilish than fleecing her former employers.

She saw his hesitation and nodded to the Wimples to bring him to her. She settled back on the dais, a large cushion under her buttocks, her big hair spread around her head like a halo, her breasts as prominent as the Pap of Mura.

“He must spill his seed in me or the spirits will be angry.”

The proselytes stood aside to let Wimple One and Wimple Two bring Robert through, and then pressed tightly round the dais, fascinated but uncomfortable. At the edge of the platform, Robert dug his heels in.

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do it. I’m too tired. I’ve lost the urge.” The statement was somewhat contradicted by his huge erection.

Regina only needed to wink to the Wimples and they pushed him forward onto her, one hand guiding his penis into her, and others pushing his buttocks to force him deep inside her welcoming vagina. He felt a rush of dark energy. He pinned her arms down while he lunged into her soft tunnel. She laughed a witch’s cackle, delighted at his frenetic fucking, and rolled him over on to his back as if he weighed nothing. She rose and sank along the length of his member, caressing the tip with her labia. It was no surprise to Robert that she was a high priestess of vaginal manipulation.

She too was possessed by an inhuman energy, and in the dying embers of the fire the soft skin of her body was transformed into the lithe muscular dappled form of a wild cat. He looked into her eyes and saw the round cold green eyes of a feline. She opened her mouth wide and there were the sharp incisors of a flesh eating mammal. He screamed, opening his own jaw wide, much wider than he thought possible, and saw a snow leopard reflected in the cat’s eyes. He pushed her off him before the fearsome teeth could sink into his neck and pounced on her in turn, jumping onto her back and entering her from behind. She snarled and bit the hand he had placed over her mouth.

He withdrew his hand. There were tooth marks in the flesh of his palm and blood welling out. He wiped his paw across his forehead leaving a trail of red, then cuffed Regina’s fleshy bottom. She squealed, turned and sank her claws into his back, dragging her nails down the skin. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. She looked shocked for one moment at the rage in his eyes, then triumphant. She lay back again and let him have his violent way.

When the acolytes talked later, in hushed and reverential tones, about what they had seen happen on the platform, they described it in different ways. Most agreed it was more like a wrestling bout than a sexual joining. They all agreed that what had started out as a human act had become something different: something animal, desperate, a struggle for survival.

Then, suddenly, as if an invisible referee had rung a silent bell, the tumultuous contest was over. The sexual combatants sprang to their feet and prowled around the dais, eying each other warily. What had looked like mortal battle had just been a symbolic tussle with only minor injuries on either side. Regina licked a trace of blood off her fingers and felt between her legs. She didn’t think he had come, but she wasn’t sure. She was warm and wet, but there was no trickle of come.