Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir] (28 page)

Read Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir] Online

Authors: Aran Ashe

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir]
9.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Her legs tried to move higher; the single fingertip returned and continued to stroke, pulling shivers down her spine. Her eyes opened. The girl's body was draped belly uppermost across Ranil's knee. Her breasts, pointing out and back as her neck arched and her head rested against the floor, were being stimulated with wetted fingers. The cone around each nipple looked very swollen, as the fingertips by alternation pinched and slapped; this was the noise that Anya had heard. Yet the girl did not seem afraid. A stone pot was drawn across the floor beside Ranil. Then he called to Shanam, who grunted in reply, then knelt up. But before he left Anya in that state of ungratified arousal, with her legs so wide apart now and her belly pushing down into the softness of the leaves, he fastened something round each leg. They felt like narrow skin belts - skin belts solely, without any fur - which were fastened high against the creases of her thighs and drawn very tightly. He hadn't fastened her legs to anything, but had merely stretched and tied these thin skin belts tightly round their tops.

 

So now, even while he was gone, the feeling was there - the tightness against that sensitive place - and it did not go away. And the sensations it induced were contradictory - she felt as if she were tied, yet her legs could freely move. When she drew them together across the leaves, the soft knots and loose loops of the skin belts were trapped against her swollen flesh lips, making her shudder; when she opened her legs, the tension around the tight bands seemed increased and made her sex lips gently throb. As Anya lay there, tied yet free, with the narrow lines of encircling pressure round her upper thighs, the sweet sickly taste came in her mouth and the queasy pleasure came in her belly very much stronger than before. Yet her lover had so far scarcely begun to touch her. What further pleasures would be in store? She bathed in the anticipation. She lay on her front quite wantonly with her thighs open and her breasts and belly pressed into the leaves, wanting to be touched again, wanting to be urged to pleasure, to be penetrated, taken while her lover's thumbs pushed up through the outsides of the tight skin belts to keep the bands of pressure hard against her inner thighs until her pleasure came. But now both men were with the girl.

 

Ranil held her thighs apart while the older man worked between them. Each whimper that the girl uttered made Anya's belly squirm, for Shanam's fingertips were picking at the small bone prong again, trying to extract it. The lips were opened and the hood was lifted back; the prong was drawn out fully and the fingernail picked at the gold thread of its mounting, while the girl emitted tiny cries - whether of pleasure or fear or squeamish pain, Anya could not tell - yet it was as if Anya could feel it too, between her legs, a pulling picking feeling round the gold ring of her nub. Anya's thighs now closed defensively, yet the girl's of course could not, for hers were held wide to keep her mound accessible and her sex projecting while the small gold snag was painstakingly worked undone and the white bone prong pulled free. Shanam held it up, then wetted his fingertips and worked the spittle into the nub while the girl protested freely with short quick spasms of her belly. Now, more fully naked than she had ever been, she was lifted on to the older man's lap while the pot was drawn near. Water splashed from it on to the floor, making Anya shiver. The girl's legs were balanced in the air. Shanam dipped his hand into the pot and drew from it a large grey gnarled shell. Anya shivered again, for it was an oyster - the same awful creature she had been offered that afternoon, when the women had expected her to eat it - but she was aghast to see it here, in such a circumstance. The young man handed Shanam a small knife and Anya then emitted a cry. Shanam looked at her and pursed his lips, then he whispered to Ranil, who got up and came to her.

 

She was apprehensive. He lay beside her, unfastened the belts at the tops of her thighs, then retightened them and turned her on her back, but turned her head away. It seemed they did not wish her to witness what was being done to the girl; she could only hear the sounds now - as she watched Ranil but strained her ears to pick up every hint - of the girl's breathing, her murmurs, small adjustments to the position of her limbs, whispers from Shanam, a protest in return, a moan, rather deeper now, a sigh from him, then a cracking sound, a hollow sound, sounds of oyster sinews splitting, wet sounds and a knife scraping back and forth within a shell, then silence. Anya attempted to turn her head to see. The young man would not let her. He took one nipple between his wetted fingers; his other hand gently opened her thighs and closed around her sex and held it. The fingers did not enter her; they were not permitted so to do. The symbol was clear - she wore the ring.

 

Anya listened; she could hear every tiny crackle of the fire, every shuffle. Her eyes widened as she heard another whisper, then a soft gasp, whispers of reassurance, rapid breathing, panting now and soft wet sounds, of sucking Anya knew. The hand around her squeezed her swollen sex lips while the fingertips rolled her nipple. The panting waned; the sucking stopped and the hand at Anya's sex lifted. Her knees were pushed wide open and the hand began to rub beside the lips, which slowly split, then to touch the ring, feeding it very slowly through the nubbin, causing the awful pulling feeling deep inside her. He placed one hand beneath her lower back and lifted, which pushed her belly out and kept her flesh wide open while he continued to touch the ring, which stood out hard about the nubbin that pushed out from the shelter of its hood. But his fingers did not enter.

 

More cracking sounds were heard, then shuffling, then tiny whimpers as the sucking sounds began again. The girl began to beg, whispering one word - 'Niri' - over and over but the soft wet sounds continued long, while Anya lay unmoving, bowed out, the swollen flesh about the ring between her legs being thoroughly yet minutely stroked. In due course, the girl's pleasure was extracted against the strength of sobbing shudders and at this point, the ring was simply held until the gasps had sufficiently waned. Then the ring was pressed, then turned a fraction, then pulled and held, drawn out to make a fleshy cusp, while the tip of the little finger tasted the freshly disclosed half circular furrow around the top of the denuded nub - for this was certainly permitted - and Anya's pleasure balanced on the point of coming until Shanam was quite finished with the girl, at which time Anya was released and allowed to turn, though not to close her legs. She saw that the girl now lay on her side with her back turned, curving, moving slightly as she breathed. Shanam was tracing with his fingertips the smooth bronze curvature. She might have been asleep. Fastened round her upper thighs were the tight skin straps. Trickling down the back of one thigh was wetness. On the ground beside her were the plundered shells.

 

As Anya lay on her front, her sex, seen from behind, framed by the tight skin bands, pulsed softly above the compressed leaves of the bed, overlaying their faint aroma with the heavy smell of heat. The ring stood out, a sweet temptation for those fingertips that had only just released her to take up once again. And above the pulsing sex and bedded in the groove was the circular well of blackness. Edging forwards, Ranil pressed the warm polished head of his cock - which had stayed erect since first he touched her nipples with his fingers - against the hot velvet well, which immediately contracted and took the clear droplet of liquid that the cocktip proffered. He teased it, pushing harder. The velvet skin turned slippery with his escaped liquid; the girl turned rigid; she did not want it this way. She was strange - wanting it at the front, where she should not, but not in the one place that it was allowed. He drew his cock away and laid it against her leg and instead, tickled the small and now wet mouth with his finger. Though her body stayed tense, the mouth gradually relaxed until he allowed his cock to touch it once again. Again she turned rigid, and murmured some word he did not understand. He pushed her knees apart and rubbed the small black shiny mouth with his thumb while he gently played with the ring, which was wetted now with her inner moisture seeping down to form a droplet. Suddenly, he heard a stifled gasp, the mouth contracted about the tip of his thumb, the thighs shuddered and he felt a rapid tiny pulsing through the ring, as if her body was trying repeatedly to pull it from his fingers. He held the ring against that pulling and her body slowly steadied.

 

Anya's pleasure had come when the thumb had momentarily stopped stroking her but the pad remained against her and the tips of his fingers, holding the ring, had slowed to tiny movements. She could feel the thick bare stem against the back of her knee; when it had touched her there, she had imagined being made to take it in her mouth - as the girl had done, while Shanam played with her between her legs - and at that thought, her legs had moved slightly more open, she had felt the tightness squeezing the tops of her thighs and then her breathing had brought her on. The pleasure had been quick, but sweet against his fingertips and now she wanted another. She wanted both men loving her together; she wanted their bare hot silky stems rubbed over her body - over her breasts and back and face and in her hair and down her throat and up inside her sex but not inside her bottom - for that was where she would like to feel their tongues. She would like to be sucked at the back and at the front together. She knew she would find the lewdness of such pleasure quite delicious.

 

And Anya got her wish, and more - she made them break the taboo of the ring - but not that night. The fire ebbed, more leaves were brought from outside, the main bed was enlarged and Anya was laid to sleep beside the girl, whose small bone prong was reinstated for her pleasure, which occurred at intervals during the night - Anya heard them wake her - while Anya herself was always turned the other way. In this manner Anya was made to feel welcome in their bed whilst not being unduly taxed by their attentions. If, as happened sometimes, one or other of the men was not fully engaged with the girl and found Anya restless, he would tickle or stroke her back, the skin bands would perhaps be released and then retightened, and on occasion, her knees would be bent while she lay on her side, that the ring - the symbol of that uncompanionable and already very strained embargo on fully penetrative love - might be touched and tickled and rendered slippy with spittle until she fell asleep, which in her state of permanent excitement from the sounds of pleasure and the smells of premature and sometimes deliberate emissions evaporating from the warmth of the young girl's skin, was a process slow indeed. But the men had patience; they would not rush this new girl.

 

When Anya awoke the second time, she turned, pretending to be asleep and watched through slitted eyes. Ranil was on his back with the girl on top of him, also on her back. Her legs had been lifted and the narrow bare buttocks spread so wide that the gulf between them seemed disproportionately wide, enhanced as it was by the thick wet bole of his cockstem pushed between them. An inch at the base was visible; the rest of the tube was buried inside her bottom. Her hand, reaching round from below, cupped his ballocks as tenderly as if they were the eggs of a rare and delicate bird. Her sex, held open by Shanam's fingers and thumb, was being penetrated by the forefinger and second finger of his other hand and was trying to close, though the fingers and thumb held her open. The two fingers withdrew, dipped into a bowl and reapplied the oily paste inside her. Then a short green cylindrical fruit was carefully inserted, her thighs were closed around it and the fingertips rubbed round the small nubbin bone projection until she came, which caused her to lift her pressed-together legs, which in turn stirred the ballocks underneath her as the cock began to pump against the flesh ring squeezing round it near its base. Then Anya was spotted; she was turned to face the wall again and to consider at her leisure what she had seen.

 

On her second night, after a day spent mainly sleeping on the floating platform, listening to the lapping water and soaking up the sun, the skin belts were fastened round the tops of her thighs and she was left in the quiet of the inner sanctum once again, for by then, word that she was taboo had circulated. But again, she became restless, despite repeated visits in which the men would stroke her and touch her and tighten the belts. In the end they relented, lifted her up and carried her to the bed, but allowed her to rest at first while they attended to the girl.

 

When Anya was allowed to turn, once the last murmurs had subsided, she saw the smoothly curved back of the body beside her, the black hair being stroked by one man while the feet were tickled by the other, and she saw both stems still erect and one of them shiny wet; she saw again the wetness at the back of the girl's thigh; she could smell the milt. And she felt the ache of wanting so deep inside that it sucked upon her womb until it hurt. She felt the sinking in her belly when a pot of oysters was brought and the two men moved to her side.

 

That night, Anya acquired a taste for oysters, which hitherto she had hated and would not even look upon in their jellied, open state, let alone touch. But now, she had the juice of oysters dripped into her mouth, and more deliciously, dripped upon her nubbin and sucked, and more deliciously still, she fed oyster flesh to the men from the soft-shelled cup of her open sex. Her hips would be lifted on Shanam's thighs; she would be open - her thighs, with the tight bands clinging wet; the lips of her sex, held open with Ranil's thumbs pressing to either side; and her mouth too - reaching for those large round ballocks dangling up above her. She would hear the cracking as the shell was opened, the scraping of the knife and then her lifted belly would shudder with the first freezing drips that splashed upon her sex lips and within - cold trickling stings upon the soft warm inner pinkness. The roughness of the shell would touch as it was tipped and momentarily, she would turn to stone, frightened of a sharpness that might cut. She would feel the flood of cold liquid, then the cold wet weight, soft coldness slipping in its sea of salty juice, then Shanam's tongue slipping underneath it, lifting, scooping and the juice overflowing, wetting the skin bands, wetting her belly, making her belly arch to feed that tongue, her neck arch, her tongue slip out in lewdness to press into the divide between those ballocks up above her and to lick a wet line up and down the curving soft-tubed undersurface of the salted stem - to feel it shudder in its turn, as she had shuddered last night.

Other books

The Vestal Vanishes by Rosemary Rowe
La Tierra permanece by George R. Stewart
The Slipper by Jennifer Wilde
Christmas Kisses by H.M. Ward
That Baby by Jillian Dodd
The Assigned by A. D. Smith, Iii
Romance: Edge of Desire by Sloan, Kelli
The Creek by Jennifer L. Holm