by Aran Ashe
They came upon a clearing fringed by bushes full of lush red berries. The women stopped and began to pick and eat them. The man was made to kneel while he was stimulated. The handle of the whip was introduced between his buttocks. Still tied, he was made to lean back on his elbows with his belly in the air, so his cock stuck straight up. The women clustered round his arched, defenceless form, sweeping in, touching, working him quickly, treating his tortured flesh roughly, nipping his belly, squeezing his tethered ballocks, tightening their hands around his plum, then suddenly releasing when he moaned, until they appeared to Anya like she-wolves - circling, feinting they would come in for the kill then retreating, only to return. As the movements came quicker, the women seemed more excited. A thick twig was taken from a bush, stripped of its bark and used to whip the underside of his stem. Then he was worked and whipped again until he pleaded for respite. 'Abaata,' the women told him as the whip thong was tightened once more about his cockstem and his bag and the youngest one took command of him again.
And the woman guarding Anya, the one who had captured her, whispered that word too. She was so beautiful, this woman, so relaxed; her eyelids were heavy as she bit into the lush red fruit. Anya felt a warm tingling sensation washing up her inner thighs as this woman opened them; she felt the warmth bathing her swollen sex lips; she felt her nubbin pushing out hard, wanting to be measured by those fingers. She heard the moan and turned to look at the man. She watched the girl's fingers touching and stroking the tip of his stem while further down, other hands pressed a small round pebble against the base, on the underside, trapping the tube where it fed into the bag. Then she watched a thin skin strip being slowly bandaged round the pebble and pulled very tight, forming a tourniquet around the base of the stem until the pebble was pressed so deeply into the thick tube that its shape could not be seen. But before the bandage had even been wrapped around him for three full turns, his pleasure spasmed as the young girl's fingertips rubbed beneath his tip. It was as if that pleasure had been dragged from very deep within him, yet not a drop of milt came out. The cockstem pumped in quick convulsions, each convulsion echoed in a word, shouted in unison by the women, but a different word each time. Anya realised that the women were counting.
As the count of each failed emission continued, Anya turned and looked at the woman before her. The woman's full lips kissed the fruit; her teeth bit into it again and her fingers squeezed the pulp. 'Abaata,' the woman murmured and Anya opened her legs wider, planted her feet deep into the liquid sand but closed her eyes when the soft pulp touched her and the gentle fingers squeezed. The smooth unyielding pip inside the fruit touched her like a stone. It pressed against the underside of her nubbin. Again the fingers squeezed. She shivered very gently when the warm thick juice divided down her open flesh lips and trickled down her legs.
[8]
The Village
The women seemed untiring as they led their captives onward through the bush. They moved with a smooth loping stride which Anya found impossible to match. She stumbled many times in the soft sand underfoot, but they never scolded her. Each time she fell, she would be lifted up again and one of them would wait until she had regained her breath. But they were much harsher with the man. He was made to run collared and erect, with the cord of the whip secured around him. When he fell, he would be punished: they would turn him on his side, and fold his knees up whilst the youngest girl whipped the underside of his cockstem with a thin resilient stick then threatened him with the bandage and the stone.
They appeared to be following a line parallel to the shore; at times Anya could glimpse the sea to her right. But she could see no path underfoot. Eventually, they came to a ridge of black jagged rock sparsely clad with trees and began to climb it. There were many footholds and Anya found the going much easier than on the sand. When the ground began to level, the women stopped. Two sat down and Anya followed their example, but the man was tethered to a tree. The women standing next to Anya had turned to look back, shading their eyes. As they spoke to each other, the two who had been sitting stood up and joined them. Anya looked out above the trees and in the direction they pointed. The air was misty with the heat of day, which softened the colours in the distance, but even so, the wide sweep of the bay was visible ahead and to the left as a thin yellow line between green and blue. To the right were the mountains - very tall but showing no bare stone; they seemed so different from the mountains of her homeland, which were craggy and covered in snow. One of the women shouted and pointed to the sea. Then Anya saw the pirate ship; she hadn't noticed it until now because it appeared so small. When she realised it was moving away from the shore, she glanced at the man. He had seen it too; his look, already sad, was now forlorn. There was no possibility of escape from here for either of them now.
Anya stared out into the distance, looking for the reef with the ship dashed upon it, even though she knew the wreckage must be far away on the other side of the island. She looked again to the mountains. She thought of her Prince again, pictured his face, focused it into her mind. Last night she had seen the waves; she had seen his ship broken, in its death throes; she had seen the wide expanse of raging water between the reef and the dry land, so why did she not accept that her Prince was surely drowned? Because she could see his face too clearly.
A hand touched her shoulder. As Anya looked up at the slim bronze figure of the beautiful woman beside her - the woman who had caught her, had touched her so deliciously - a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. The hand squeezed her shoulder gently. The expression in those dark eyes was one of concern. The woman helped her up. She stood taller than Anya by a hand's-breadth. The fingers touched Anya's red hair, straggly from the dried salt water. The dark eyes searched her own. 'Ikahiti,' said the woman. Anya's eyes, a little apprehensive, looked to the side, then back again. The woman stepped back. Her hand lifted then swept gracefully down in front of her body, then pointed to her heart. 'Ikahiti,' the woman repeated.
Anya's chin lifted. Her lips parted. Anya,' she replied tentatively.
An-i-ya,' said the woman, nodding gently.
'Ika-hiti,' whispered Anya and Ikahiti smiled. She took off her gold sheathed ropework thong and knotted it about Anya's upper arm.
Once they had crossed the summit of the ridge, they could see below them a village of wicker huts clustered in three or four main groups and nestled in a clearing floored by sand. On the inland side of this clearing was a large cave in yellow rock. Bronze-skinned people moved in and out of this cave and across the sand to the water's edge. To the right, the ridge that Anya stood on became lower and less craggy but extended out into the sea like a giant arm sweeping around the blue water to capture it in a clear lagoon. Drawn up on the shore were long narrow boats. There were people bathing. Anya could hear their laughter. Behind the huts was a place where it appeared that trees had been felled and left on the ground. As the party began to pick a route down the steep slope towards the village, and people by the water's edge, noticing them, began to wave and shout, Anya was secretly excited at the prospect of this meeting. She felt she had a friend in Ikahiti.
Even before they reached the level sand, the women of the village were crowding in on them. The man, tied as he was, exposed and still very much erect, seemed very frightened, but the women seemed to take the man for granted; they were far more interested in Anya. It was as if they had never before seen a woman who was not of their own kind. Their dark eyes flashed as they studied her and their fingers moved quickly, agilely, through the air as they spoke in a very rapid chatter to the ones who had captured her. Everyone wanted to look at her. They smiled at her and touched her hair; they became very excited when they saw the bush of red curls between her thighs. And Anya realised why: she noticed that these women, like her captors, were bare-bellied, but the flesh between their legs was decorated with inks or paints which made it appear to be covered in finely combed hair. These women were more decorated than the others; when they turned, Anya could see fine
radiating coloured patterns on their lower hips, above their buttocks. They wore necklaces and earrings and belts of polished shell and bone. One or two women wore gold. Everyone had similar features - small noses, large deep brown eyes and very dark brown hair; their breasts were small and tight and pear shaped; their hips were narrow and their limbs athletic - flexible, slim and strong. Some of the younger ones would stand with their heads to one side and their fingertips intertwined so their hands formed an arch in the air as they listened to the others talking. Their eyes would be watching Anya, washing up and down her body, as Anya listened for some clue in the intonation of the voices which might indicate how she would be received here and what might happen to her next.
When the crowd eventually parted and allowed them to proceed up the beach, Anya realised she had seen no men here. All the people of this village seemed to be women. Where were the men? She looked out into the lagoon. A number of the long boats, drawn by the excitement, were coming in to shore. But the people paddling them were once again women. It seemed very strange that there were no men.
About fifty yards further on, the women stopped and made the man kneel as they looked expectantly towards the cave. Anya watched too. Some young girls came running out and formed two lines. It seemed to be a signal, for the whipcord was now removed from the prisoner's tethered parts and his hands were untied. Ikahiti took hold of the loop of the cord attached to his collar. He was then pushed forwards on to his hands and knees and driven up the sand towards the entrance to the cave. He was made to crawl like an animal. When he tried to raise his head, Ikahiti pushed her foot down hard on to the cord against the side of his neck and his face was forced into the sand. Anya was allowed to walk unshackled, but she could not understand why these women - especially Ikahiti, who had shown her such consideration - would want to be so cruel to this man when all he had done was to set foot on their island.
The way swung to the right before they reached the cave and it overlooked the cleared hollow that Anya had seen from the ridge. There were many felled tree trunks and lengths of pole, some of them secured together to make framework structures which could have been the skeletons of huts. Small groups of women were working around these structures. Suddenly, Anya caught a glimpse of someone hard against one of these frames and reaching up as if climbing it, except that he wasn't moving - for it was a man, and a pale-skinned man at that. She knew he could only have come from the ship; the other three from aboard the rowing boat must have been captured too. But why was he there in the clearing and what were the women doing? The man in front of Anya had noticed; his frightened eyes were redirected forwards by Ikahiti taking him by the hair. Anya's eyes, darting round for one last time before the view was lost, saw other men, again not moving, against or even within these frames and she was sure she saw more than three. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of smacking before the women pushed her onwards to the cave.
Though the entrance itself was large, the space within the cave seemed vast. The air was fresh and pleasantly warm. Again, the floor was golden sand. The walls of yellow stone bellied out and up to form an enormous many-ribbed arched roof, like the bones of a gigantic creature. It was as if the skin of this creature had stretched and broken over the years: large holes were present in the roof. Through the ones high up near the centre, pillars of yellow sunlight shafted down to turn the floor to glowing pools of sand. Other openings threw diffuse shades of blue or forest green. Tendrils hung down from them like necklaces of multicoloured flowers; in places the walls were clad with broad-leaved vines bearing succulent fruit. To the left was a large lake. Its crystal waters appeared lit from below as if it was connected beneath the rock to the open air. Far ahead, towards the back of the cave, was a tall cascade of thin water which tumbled to a milky mist. The right-hand wall of the cave was terraced; steps cut into the stone ran between the various levels. Smaller cave entrances fed on to these terraces. On some of the terraces were small gardens. There were women descending the steps towards the cave floor, congregating to see the new arrivals.
The man was driven forwards to a place, facing the lake, where a large plinth had been cut into the stone and was surmounted by a great chair embellished with ornaments of polished shell and intricately fashioned ropework gold, which wound round the arms of the chair in snakelike tendrils. The back of the chair was decorated with the shapes of fishes - pearl-eyed, finned with polished nacreous shell and scaled with beaten gold. Again, the man was made to kneel, with head bowed. But his head kept moving as he glanced round him, trying to absorb his surroundings. Anya was very aware of the man's uneasy movements and of the way it seemed to annoy the women and disturb the silence that had fallen. She was more aware still of the broad flat sticks carried by the women waiting to greet them and now advancing towards the man. Anya, standing with Ikahiti behind her, remained as still as she could.
The younger girls, gathered in a circle behind the new arrivals, suddenly bowed and a small procession emerged one by one from an archway to the right of the chair.
Anya's head was bowed but her eyes were lifted; from the shelter of her eyebrows she studied the group as it approached sedately. There were four women and all of them were remarkable in appearance. One wore an animal skin; two, who were taller than the others, were nude although their bodies were painted; and the last and youngest of the four had hair that was lighter by several shades than that of any other island woman Anya had seen. She was very heavily decorated in jewellery of shell and gold and, unlike anybody else, wore a kind of short, tasselled cape in red and gold. This cape appeared out of place amongst these people, who otherwise seemed to wear nothing but necklaces and skins; it was the kind of thing that would be worn by a noble in Lidir. The woman - or girl, Anya saw now - had the same small chin, full lips and childlike, wide-eyed expression as Niri, but her hair was this pale golden brown and her skin was not so bronzed as the others. Bending forward, Ikahiti whispered in Anya's ear, 'Kal-isha', and Anya wondered, as the young girl took up her place on the chair, whether Kalisha was her name or her title, for despite her youth and stature, her disposition was that of someone of great importance.
The two tallest women stood to her left, leaving the fourth woman to the right. Unlike the girl, her skin was deeply bronzed and also wrinkled, for she was much older - or appeared to be, from her thin limbs and from what little Anya could see of her face. She too wore a cape but it was an animal skin, a little like a giant cat's. The creature had been skinned in one piece, so the skin extended as a head-dress which hung down the cat-woman's back. Her appearance was fearsome - it seemed she had an extra pair of eye sockets on the top of her head. When she bowed, the jewelled blood-red eyes sewn into the skin seemed to stare at Anya; when the woman raised her head, her own eyes smouldered deep within their hollow sockets in her wrinkled dark bronze skin. Around her neck was a string of teeth and in her hand was a small wooden ball on a stick. The surface of the ball had many holes in it, and it rattled when she shook it.
The golden-haired girl whispered something to one of the women beside her, who then shouted a command. Immediately, the man on the floor was pushed forwards and his collar was drawn tight. Not knowing what to do, Anya stood her ground. The girl got up and was followed by her retinue down the three steps on to the sand. As the group walked past the man, whose head was bowed as he knelt up straight, still breathing heavily, though his sex was relaxed now, lolling to the side, it seemed that their eyes were not attuned to the man at all, but were fixed on Anya, who stood slightly behind him, shaking. They came to a halt in front of her. Kalisha - a Princess, Anya knew this girl must be, from the respect which the others, even the cat-woman, showed her - glanced briefly at the young man on the ground, then spoke to the two women guarding him. One of them then took him by the shoulders and pulled them back. The Princess pointed to the thick stem resting softly against his thigh, then whispered to one of the two women with her. These women were completely nude. They wore no necklaces or bracelets, b
ut their bodies were entirely clothed in fine flowing patterns of lines in black and brown and gold, which swirled around their bellies, down their thighs and snaked up to their breasts. Each nipple was pierced by a ring. Between each pair of legs, Anya could see what appeared to be a small gold pouch; it seemed to clothe each flesh lip separately so the line of contact was clearly visible. She wondered how this double pouch could be held in place when it lacked any visible cords. Then she saw something tiny and white catch the light at the upper junction of the gold-sleeved lips. Seeing that made her shudder; again she wondered how it was attached.
When Anya looked up, all four people in front of her were staring at her. Ikahiti, standing behind her, edged Anya's legs apart and nudged her. Again she whispered the name 'Kalisha', and nudged Anya more urgently. Anya suddenly understood. As the Princess stepped forward, Anya whispered, 'Kalisha,' then averted her eyes for a second. A faint smile crossed the Princess's face. When Anya returned that smile, the Princess's glance broke away, then suddenly stabbed back, making Anya flinch. Though a young girl, she had the confidence of a mature woman. She touched Anya's long red hair, her skin, her nipples. The nipples gathered to that touch. The Princess's gaze came to rest upon the knotted golden thong. She glanced at Ikahiti, then looked again at Anya and her eyes glittered; her lips, slightly parted, were like soft brown luscious fruits.