by Chloe Gillis
Eleanora said, urgently, “They do not fuck face to face, but always from the back. Quick, over you go, arse in the air!”
Eleanora flipped Clarissa over in her lap, holding her fast to her chest. Clarissa felt the heat of the man as he came close up behind her. He made a grunting sound. Clarissa felt him lick her buttocks. He bit her, softly at first, then harder, until she squealed. He laughed and licked her cunt from behind. Eleanora reached over Clarissa and spread her buttocks. Kono inserted his finger into her.
“She is ready,” he said.
Clarissa was indeed ready. Her cunt felt hot and throbbing. Kono withdrew his finger.
Eleanora said, “Here it comes. Hold on.” Clarissa squealed as Kono shoved his enormous cock deep into her cunt. He began thrusting immediately and vigorously.
Clarissa cried out, “Fuck me! Hard! Oh! Oh!” Faster and faster Kono fucked her. He grabbed her hips, his cock becoming an auger that drilled into her very core. Clarissa cried out with the wanton lust that gripped her.
The fucking seemed to go on forever. At last, Kono stopped, but did not withdraw. He said something and Clarissa felt the warm oil pour down between her buttocks, over her sphincter, and around his turgid cock. Kono tickled her arse, making her groan. Seemingly satisfied with her reaction, he began the fucking again. Clarissa found herself transported into some sort of trance-like state of lust. The heat in her was growing to a crescendo. She felt Kono’s arm reach under her, holding her to him. With his other hand, he squeezed her whole cunny in his hand. He squeezed hard. The effect was astounding. Clarissa’s climax crashed over her, nearly drowning her in the sensation. She shrieked. The wives cheered and clapped. Kono collapsed over her, bucking in his ecstasy.
They lay quietly, all of them. Kono held Clarissa to his chest, his cock receding from inside her. Eleanora and the wives lounged comfortably, dozing around them. Clarissa slowly recovered her senses. And while she felt nothing could possibly cure her broken heart, she did allow herself to think that this place, at least, could act as a much needed diversion.
Part Nine
Clarissa Teaches a Lesson and Is Fulfilled
LITTLE BY LITTLE, CLARISSA ACCLIMATED to the island society in which she found herself. All the people were so kind, and Margaret and Eleanora began to teach her the language. She found that the women went out of their way to include her in their busy days and teach her island skills. They had all heard her heartbreaking story and were extremely sympathetic. He was not worthy of her, they would say comfortingly. What kind of man was he who couldn’t even handle two women! Two women! Imagine! Why, the men of their island had multiple wives each and loved each one of them equally! They were even solicitous of the single women until those women became wives.
So they embraced Clarissa and taught her their ways. She learned to wrap the fish that the men caught in ti leaves, soak it, and steam it in a pit of hot coals. She learned to make poi, the odd tasting mush made from the manioc root. She learned the art of making jewelry from shells and flower leis. She helped watch the little children as they ran naked on the beach or scampered up the palm trees to knock down the coconuts at the top.
Still, Clarissa often found herself sitting alone, gazing out onto the wide sea, her heart heavy within her chest. Images of Adam were burned into her brain. Adam smiling at her across a table. Adam walking beside her down a crowded London street, her small hand warm and secure in his large, strong one. And Adam drawing her to him as he kissed her lips.
Her usual interest in the world around her slackened. Clarissa felt her enthusiasm for anything draining away. Alarmingly enough, even physical encounters, which she had heretofore found exceptionally stimulating, with Kono and the other perfectly appealing men of the village, failed to raise her spirits.
One evening as Clarissa sat alone on the beach gazing numbly out across the water at the glorious sunset, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She was far too apathetic to be startled. She turned around to see Margaret and Eleanora.
“Oh,” said Clarissa, “hello.”
“Clarissa, darling,” said Eleanora, seating herself on the sand beside Clarissa, “Kono seeks you. He wants to present you to an esteemed visitor from a neighboring island. His name is Pualopua. He is a powerful chieftain.”
Margaret settled on the other side of Clarissa. “We have been concerned for you, dear,” she said. “You have seemed uncharacteristically quiet and introverted of late. Are you still pining? Is not this astounding and beautiful paradise enough to lift you from your sorrow?”
Clarissa sighed deeply. “I must admit, I am not in the best of moods. I have been trying to forget Adam MacLaren, yet his face seems always before mine, whether I am waking or sleeping.”
“Come with us, then, and for the moment, put your emotions away. Kono is very proud of you and wishes to present you to Pualopua. It is a great honor!”
Clarissa shook her head slowly and said, “I am sorry, my friends. You are so kind to include me, but I would rather sit here with my own thoughts for a while.”
Clarissa saw Eleanora and Margaret exchange glances. Margaret spoke, “I’m sorry, my dear. I am afraid you are required to come with us. Kono is, after all, our chieftain, and when he demands something this important, we must comply.”
“Just tell him I am indisposed,” said Clarissa simply.
Eleanor spoke up. “You do not seem to grasp the gravity, and honor, of this request. Indeed, Kono only requests to be polite because he does favor you greatly, but he will resort to a mandatory edict if he must.”
Clarissa blinked. “Mandatory edict?” She felt rather peeved.
“Yes. Your presence is demanded.”
“I am able to make my own choices,” said Clarissa, making no effort to cover her pique.
“Unless your choice is vetoed,” said Eleanora patiently.
“Why that is not what freedom of choice means!” exclaimed Clarissa. “It makes no sense!”
“Kono has the last word on everything.”
“Now, come along, please, dear. It will not be a hardship and may help take your mind off your heart,” said Margaret, taking Clarissa’s arm.
Since Clarissa felt she would do most anything to banish the memories of Adam MacLaren from her mind, she begrudgingly allowed herself to be led back to the village. She looked back over her shoulder to catch a last glimpse at the sunset. She was surprised when she saw a ship, a speck on the horizon.
“Look!” she exclaimed. “A ship! I haven’t seen one since I came here!”
Her companions turned and looked. Eleanora said, “A tramp steamer, no doubt. They sail from island to island, trading, bringing mail, ferrying people back and forth. Come along, dear.”
As they approached the village center, Clarissa was surprised to see the extent to which the villagers had gone to prepare a celebration honoring their guest. It was dusk, and torches blazed around the huge roasting pit. Women were busy preparing fish and shellfish, wrapping it in seaweed to set upon the glowing coals. They were all dressed in their best sarongs, with brilliant flowers tucked behind their ears. Drums were beating, and the men were chanting softly. It was really quite exciting. Clarissa felt her spirits rise just a bit.
Eleanora and Margaret led her to Kono’s hut. He sat inside on his seat of woven cane and smiled at her when she walked in behind Margaret and Eleanora.
“Greetings, beautiful one,” he said.
Margaret and Eleanora pushed Clarissa forward in a most unusual way. It all seemed a bit too formal for Clarissa, but she kept a cheerful face as she greeted Kono in return.
“Greetings, my chieftain,” she said in the native tongue.
Kono answered her in English. “I wish to make you acquainted with Pualopua. He is a great chieftain and must have a welcome beyond words. I have chosen you because—” He hesitated and looked at Margaret.
“Because of your enthusiasm and exotic looks,” Margaret explained.
“Thank you, Kono,” said Clarissa hon
estly. “However, I am afraid my enthusiasm has waned at this point. Perhaps another—”
Kono stood up suddenly, his face clouded over momentarily and he took Clarissa’s arm. “It must be you!” he said, it seemed to Clarissa, with unnecessary vehemence. “It must be you! He has requested you. He has heard of you and now he comes, to visit me, chieftain to chieftain. I myself have no choice in this matter.”
Clarissa looked up into his black eyes and thought she detected a tinge of panic. She was confused.
Kono did not take his eyes off her, but commanded, “Eleanora!”
Eleanor stepped nervously forward. Clarissa’s brow furrowed. Why was everybody so jumpy?
Eleanor said, “Clarissa. Clarissa, dear. Pualopua is the most important and most powerful chieftain in this archipelago. He is also the fiercest, sometimes making war on his otherwise peaceful neighbors. Through the traders, he has heard of you and your beauty. He and a party of several men and women came by outrigger this morning. He and Kono have been in talks all day. As you can see, it has taken quite a toll on our beloved husband and chieftain. He wants to make the best possible impression on Pualopua. If he does, Pualopua will go away and leave us in peace. Otherwise, he will take what he wants by force.”
“He sounds like a bully to me,” said Clarissa, indignantly. She had dealt with bullies before. “We only need to stand up to him.”
Now Margaret joined the conversation. “It is not that simple, dear,” she said. “He has the power to—how shall I say this?—bother, yes, to bother us.”
“All you need to do, dear,” said Eleanora, “is suffer him for this evening while the celebration is going on. He is actually quite good-looking.” She winked at Clarissa, but Clarissa felt it was a hasty afterthought.
Then she looked at Kono. He stood, ramrod straight as usual, dressed in colorful material wrapped around his waist. His chest, rock hard and rippled, was bare, save for a necklace of white shells. A similar string of white shells was plaited into his hair. However, Clarissa was quick to note, the usually present happy-go-lucky expression and smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes were absent. This must be more serious than she had suspected. Kono had always been very good to her, a tender lover, and a good friend. Well, she thought, I will do what is required of me for Kono’s sake. Then I will find out what is going on!
“Why not!” she declared, mustering a brilliant smile from the depths of her broken heart.
Kono gave a big smile and wrapped his muscular arms around her in an exuberant embrace. When he finally released her, he stepped back, and reaching within the folds of his knee length half-toga, he brought forth a string of large pearls and handed them to Clarissa.
She gasped and turned them over and over in her hands. They were large pearls of different colors, white, pink, brown, gray, and black.
“Oh, Kono!” she said. “These are magnificent. Truly magnificent. Should I wear these when I meet Pualopua?”
“They are yours to wear always, whenever you like. They are a gift from me,” he answered her softly. “To remember me.”
There was something in his demeanor that made Clarissa look up. He was smiling, but there was something, a sort of pathos, swimming in his eyes. This was all very mysterious, but she would play along. Whatever was making people act in so bizarre a manner would reveal itself eventually, she was sure of that.
“Follow me,” said Kono and abruptly walked out of the hut. Clarissa fell in behind him, her curiosity piqued. Kono entered the long meeting house at the end of the village cluster. Clarissa followed him in, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.
“Greetings, my friend.” Clarissa heard a deep voice speaking in the native language as they entered.
“Greetings, Pualopua,” replied Kono. “I have brought you the beautiful one you requested.” Kono turned to Clarissa. “Step forward.”
Clarissa stepped forward as directed. Now she could see the other man quite clearly. As Eleanor had said, he was very good-looking. He stood taller than Kono. He wore a similar half-toga to Kono’s, but in his hair, he wore a feathered headdress that cascaded down his back. In his ear he wore an ornament made from a shell and around his neck was a lei of fragrant flowers. He smiled when he saw Clarissa.
“I am here to join you in celebration.” Clarissa gave the tradition greeting in the native tongue. She had always had a flair for language.
“I am impressed,” said Pualopua. “You speak as beautifully as you appear.”
“Examine her, if you will,” said Kono. “You will only find that she is all you want.”
Clarissa was not in a very good mood. She was trying to enjoy the experience of being with two strapping, handsome, half-naked men, but her heart pained her and visions of Adam MacLaren with his laughing blue eyes flashed in her mind. Also, she was put off by Kono’s odd behavior. He was not as jolly as she would have liked to see. She made an effort to get into the spirit of the free tribal customs again as Pualopua circled her.
“She is quite small,” said Pualopua.
“She has much energy,” answered Kono.
“She is not fat.”
“If Pualopua prefers a fat woman—” began Kono, but Pualopua laughed.
“I prefer this woman. She is different from all the rest!” He grabbed Clarissa by the wrist, quite roughly, she thought, and pulled her forward. He reached a hand up under her sarong, groping between her legs.
Like dynamite, Clarissa’s temper, already short, went off. She swung her open hand up with all her might and smacked Pualopua on the side of his head, cuffing his ear in the process. Clarissa always knew she was stronger than most girls her age. After all, she was very athletic. She could ride, her tennis game was legendary, and she had led her girls’ basketball team to Private School Championship her senior year. However, she was unprepared for what happened when her hand came into contact with Pualopua’s unprotected ear. Pualopua’s eyes bugged out, his mouth opened, and he collapsed to his knees. Apparently, the force with which her open palm hit his ear produced a very painful concussion. Pualopua rocked back and forth on his knees, both hands clasped to his ear.
Clarissa and Kono stood still, stunned. Clarissa was the first to recover. Horrified at what she had done, she knelt beside the groaning man.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I am so very, very sorry! Are you hurt? Tell me!”
Finally, Pualopua looked up. Clarissa drew back, expecting some sort of retaliation. Instead, Pualopua grinned at her from ear to ear. “I will have her! She will be seated next to me tonight,” he said to Kono. “She is very brave and has her own ideas in her head!” He began to laugh. Then he said, “Go, go! Prepare for the feast. We will celebrate this woman you have shown me, as well as the friendship of our two nations. I will tame her to my ways!”
Kono said to Clarissa, “Come with me now. I will take you to my wives. They will ready you for the feast.”
He turned and exited the longhouse, leading Clarissa by the hand.
The celebration site was empty and quiet as Clarissa followed Kono across the beach. The women would be getting ready, donning their best sarongs, dressing their children in festive loincloths and shell necklaces, braiding each other’s hair.
It was dusk and Clarissa looked out across the ocean. The yellow, pinks, and mauves of the sunset reflected in the softly undulating blue-green waters. Away on the horizon, the tramp steamer still sat. Clarissa could see the lights on the deck.
“Kono,” said Clarissa pensively, as they made their way past the huge fire pit. “What is going on? Has Pualopua threatened you? Something very mysterious is afoot. Please tell me what it is.”
Kono stopped in his tracks. His face was somber as he turned to face her. He said, “Pualopua is a powerful chieftain. Every so often, he must flex his muscles, show his strength to the other nations of these islands.”
“You are also a powerful chieftain,” said Clarissa, looking up at him.
Kono snorted. “My responsibility i
s to my people. When Pualopua comes, I give him what he wants. Big party, much flattery, his choice of women. The women are eager to serve him. They know it can only help our people. When Pualopua has what he wants, he goes away. We will not see him for several more years.”
“You should stand up to him, Kono! The men here do not go around putting their hands up the women’s skirts! Your people should not fear a bully like Pualopua.”
“I do not wish to bring the wrath of Pualopua down upon our village. We are a peaceful people.”
“The people of this island are brave and strong. You have nothing to fear from Pualopua.”
Kono sighed. “I do not like to talk about this,” he said softly. “My father was killed by Pualopua’s father. He was speared in the back as he left a feast on Pualopua’s island. As he died, he made me say I would not fight, that I would not risk the lives of my people. I am doing what was bidden.”
“Oh, Kono,” said Clarissa, shocked by the story, “I am so very sorry, but there has got to be a way to come out from under the power of Pualopua. He is a bully and a fake.”
“Let us go to the feast. We will talk of this later.”
Clarissa squeezed his hand in sympathy and followed him to the longhouse.
Inside the longhouse, the women were scurrying here and there. They were bedecked in all their finery, and they descended upon Clarissa as she entered.
Margaret took her arm. “Clarissa, dear, come with us. We will primp you for the celebration. You will be sitting next to Pualopua.”
“You must be turned out in the finest couture we can manage,” put in Eleanora.
Pi appeared in her usual silent manner, holding a beautiful sarong of pure silk. It was blue, like the sea, and shimmered in the fading light.
Kono had disappeared. The wives took possession of Clarissa. They bathed her, combed out her blond hair, which had grown quite long, falling onto her shoulders in golden waves. Maya plaited fine braids into her hair, bejeweled with white shells. Clarissa wore the pearls around her neck, so the wives adorned her with cuffs of flowers around her wrists and ankles.