by Love Belvin
I knew from previous visits out here that this place had been the coveted vacation destination for the world’s elite. The likes of Elton John, Queen Elizabeth, Michael Jackson, Oprah Winfrey, John Travolta and countless others had spent hundreds of thousands to be in the privacy of this thirty-eight mile tract of land. It had been around for decades and was rumored to be the reason celebrities began purchasing their own Islands; at least that’s what Tyler Perry told Jarabu that Oprah had told him when he visited years ago.
“Carmichael!” Taja greeted with wide stretched arms the moment Alexis and I were on the ground. In his native tongue he cried, “You have no idea how relieved my spirit is to receive you.”
I placed my duffle on the ground as I approached him and could see two young men running our luggage from the plane to an open jeep. Also, the captain of the plane awaited off to the side for my signature and final words until we boarded again to return home.
“Taja.” I returned his welcome in his language, “Always a pleasure, my brother. I see young Jaru has gained some height.” His embrace was tight, heartfelt.
“Yes! You told me! You told me what God said and it came to pass! All praises be to Him above!” he shouted.
That must have woken Alexis up. She stared down at Taja with weary eyes, I was sure confused by our strange dialect and his swelled emotions. She’d have to get used to it; only a handful of people on Kamigu spoke English, and even those not so well.
“Yes, glory be to God,” I agreed.
“And to you for your discipleship. You allow Him to use you. I can’t wait ‘til she sees you. She’s been calling for you for months, you know. Jarabu kept telling her to be patient and remember what you told her.” His eyes were shadowed with fear. I could feel it in each of my limbs.
I had to remind myself to not give into fleshly emotions and remember what I came here to do. I glanced over to Alexis, who stood closed, over toward the drawn steps of the plane.
“Taja, this is my new bride, Lex,” I informed as I took Alexis at the small of her back, bringing her into our conversation. I didn’t mind introducing her by her moniker: it was easier for him to repeat and I preferred the exclusive privilege of referring to her by her formal name. Alexis was a new creature. For me.
Though she couldn’t understand the language, she could sense an introduction.
Taja eagerly took her hand in both of his and shook it firmly. It was a sight to see my beloved nearly a foot taller than a man. It turned me on nonetheless. “Bless you! Congratulations to you. A good man has chosen you.”
I turned to her. “Beloved, this is Taja. He’s congratulated you on our nuptials, though I’m the true receptor of the gift.” That made her gush, though she gave it in measure.
I’m going to have such a good time with you…
Alexis smiled politely. “Thank you,” she returned, then looked to me for translation assistance.
I was sure Taja understood her sentiment, so there was no need to repeat it.
“Let’s go,” Taja insisted. “You two must be ready for your appointed quarters. You’ve been given the King’s Hut. It’s recently been renovated. You will be the first to stay there.” He began scurrying to the jeep. “The entire village is happy for your stay!”
The ride to what Americans would call the resort, but wasn’t considered as such in Kamigu because of the community-like atmosphere, took just about thirty minutes. I could see Alexis’ bewildered eyes the entire ride and when we arrived at the gates of the property, they almost ejected from their sockets. There were armed guards in front patrolling. They didn’t hold us up long, recognizing Taja and his son, but did survey the large SUV before opening the gates.
Once inside, we were met with small homes that resembled colonial huts, some larger than others. As we drove deeper into the grounds, I could see the natives out, walking or working, and the children playing in the yards. Each one waved in greeting as we passed them, already displaying the warm affection that I respected most about them. We moved past the residential area and on to the resort-like parameters, stopping just at our hut. Taja and a few others escorted our luggage inside while we were hailed by Natalia.
She was just as glowing as I last remembered her. I could see Jarabu’s fascination with her exotic features and demure presentation. Natalia was a twenty-six year old from Kolkata, India. Jarabu encountered her at a sex club in Surat. She’d been a runaway who ended up in the hands of the wrong man. When my friend had acquired her from her captor, she’d come with a lot of survivor reflexes; extremely timid and suppressed. She’d lay down and spread her thighs on command, but could never give direct eye contact when spoken to. She didn’t sleep well, hardly ate, and was very much captive in her mind. That’s when he called on me for assistance. It took nearly a year, but we were able to break her slave-like mentality. Since then, I could see he’s been successful at polishing her into a wonderful hostess.
As I rounded Alexis to greet her, I could detect her self-awareness, her potent sexuality. She was born a woman with lovely features. Slanted sable eyes, thick manicured brows the same color as her long silky tresses falling to her hips in waves, full lips, naturally slim figure, but a bountiful bosom with well-proportioned hips. Though her eyes faltered at me, I could tell she’d still been gaining confidence, the thing I prayed for concerning her. Jarabu was completely taken by her, eyes on sight, and for what had blossomed I was grateful to God for His graciousness. And I observed she still wore her collar.
Natalia held a basket of champagne and fresh fruits as part of her welcome.
“It’s good to have you back home, Master Carmichael,” she offered in a dialect that was a blend of Indonesian and that of her native land of Dadar, India.
She bowed, back arched perfectly, exposing the lewd feminine curve of her spine. I fought to not move erratically and give my wife the impression that I was sexually affected by another woman. I wasn’t, but I understood some habits were hard to break and some chemistry was difficult to disconnect from for vulnerable women like Natalia.
“Please stand,” I murmured, still being careful of my response to her.
Natalia stood, and with a red face fanned of embarrassment, she gushed. Her eyes coated Alexis head from toe, observing her with an unnatural eye. I could see when her discernments roved around my beloved’s wide hips on top of her tall legs. That could make me hard. I hadn’t penetrated Alexis yet and was eager to, but wanted for conditions to be right, like her on a traditional bed, on ground where she could feel each inch of me. Natalia was taking in the goods—my goods—and bringing about my hunger for my wife again.
“She’s gorgeous,” she bit her bottom lip similar to how Alexis did, just not as sexy, as she rolled her eyes bashfully.
“That she is,” I returned before turning to my kitten, suddenly feeling a burst of pride at the possession of her. I was met with the same confused eyes Alexis displayed when I’d spoken to Taja in a language she was unable to follow.
In English, I informed Alexis, “Beloved, this is Natalia. She’s the wife of my friend, Jarabu, who runs the island.” I wanted to make that clear.
Alexis continued to regard Natalia, unrushed to greet her. Christ. She could demodulate the sexual chemistry between Natalia and me, something I hadn’t been prepared for. My wife had nothing to be troubled over regarding me and another woman, much less, Natalia here. Even if she wasn’t tied to one of my closest friends, she wouldn’t be Mrs. Ezra Carmichael. She wasn’t exactly my type.
I squeezed discreetly at the side of her waist, prompting her manners.
“Hello,” Alexis offered tightly, not even attempting a smile.
She’s going to be work.
“Hey-lo,” Natalia could understand and return with a polite bow. Nevertheless she couldn’t fight that knowing smirk.
“Natalia—” I started to move past this awkward moment until I was interrupted by…
Robin Thicke?
I noticed Alexis’ brow
line hiked, mirroring mine as we glanced down a narrow alleyway where the tunes of “Blurred Lines” were streaming from a radio.
Natalia swore under her breath. “Sorry,” she offered. “That must be Yanti. She knows you and your new wife have arrived. You know how obsessed she is with the American culture. She’s trying to make the best impression as possible with her.” She cleared her throat as she gestured to a confused Alexis who couldn’t understand the language. Natalia’s golden beige skin blushed a rosy shade.
She has to stop this…
That’s when young Yanti appeared on the narrow road, dancing arrhythmically backwards, being led by her tiny shoulders. Her face was impassive as she clearly focused on her ‘cool’, backing up, into the road. When she began her oafish strut toward us, I could sense Alexis’ amused eyes at the side of my face. We watched immobile while she made her way to us with a basket of fresh bath linens.
I dotingly recalled Yanti. She’d grown in the past five years since my last visit, had developed at least a foot taller and was clearly struggling through the identity phase of her adolescence. She had dark golden skin, bushy eyebrows and long dusky hair. Her peasant-style dress was oversized and draped across her petite frame. I noticed she left one shoulder exposed, strategically I was sure. I tried stifling my laughter. I could easily recall when she was just an infant!
As she approached me, her eyes grew. “‘Sup, Mr. Master.” she bobbed her chin in the air while issuing her vaguely annunciated greeting in English.
“It’s Master Carmichael!” Natalia shouted, obviously understanding her reference.
“Uh, no,” I corrected. “Carmichael is just fine—or Ezra. Please, no Master.” I was grateful that Alexis couldn’t understand my command.
Yanti was unaffected by it all as she stumbled once her eyes landed on a giggling Alexis. She, too, eyed Alexis from her head to her purple flip flops with parted lips. Then the ‘cool’ mask dropped and she was in evident awe.
She made a sound similar to “Whoa!” I chuckled at her sudden insouciance. She was completely spellbound at the mere presence of Alexis. “She’s gorgeous. Look at that dark skin!” she breathed, totally sensual-free unlike Natalia’s reaction. My erection hadn’t returned at that regard.
Natalia rolled her eyes at Yanti’s enchantment. I had to end this tension before setting Alexis off.
I reached for Alexis’ upper trunk, intentionally possessive. “Natalia, please show my wife to our quarters. And Yanti, once she’s settled in—has showered or whatever she needs to do—please give her a tour of the village,” I requested.
Then I turned to Alexis, who was wearing the same confused grimace as before. “Kitten,”—I was sure to reference—“Natalia is going to show you to our villa. I want you to settle in. Once you do, the effervescent Yanti will show you around the property. She knows more English than most.” I knew this from Jarabu keeping me abreast of Yanti’s fascination with pop culture and her studies. “I have something to do then I need to go for a much needed run, okay?”
With diffident eyes, Alexis agreed. I left the women to it and used my memory to make my way to the matriarch’s home. Along the way, I was met by many islanders, many of whom I recalled. What surprised me were those who I thought were too young to remember me. I stopped and chatted with several of them, listened intently to their stories that varied from excitement of seeing me to concerns of the woman they considered their dowager. Some knew of why I was here, and all knew I’d recently been married. It truly blessed me to see their beautiful faces.
When I arrived at the villa of my intent, I felt the quintessence of illness right away. The place was dark, odorous, and my spirit wanted to fold immediately. I noted statues and figures I was sure she used for elusive spiritual warfare of sorts. They disgusted me, were so fruitless. My first thought was to discard them all then I digressed, not having the authority to do so. But I evoked my mission and began to call immediately on help to see me through this first phase. As I walked into the small village home, I began to pray as I opened windows and doors.
Instantly, I began to call out the lingering, dismal presence of various ailments, and ultimately death, speaking against its force and commanding it to leave in the name of Jesus. I spoke to the breeze that now traveled through the open windows and front and back door, demanding to sweep with it anything cursed and not of God. Eventually, I fell to my knees, crying out songs of deliverance, hope, and triumph. I lost myself to my spirit man and connected to a Source that worked through me. I don’t know how long I was there, couldn’t provide moment by moment details of my actions. I just know I yielded to the Holy Spirit and made room for His presence to dwell in the dark place. I got lost in my plea, my pulling down of wicked strongholds: anger, confusion, stubbornness and rebuttal of conformation. By the time I was through and exited the home, there were about a dozen and a half of people surrounding the hut, several praying, but most sideline observing.
“You and you,” I pointed to two women I’d noticed with their hands clutched in prayer. “Go gather others and clean this hut top to bottom. Don’t let two days pass before you’re done.”
Right away, the two women scuttled away from the crowd in compliance. I headed in the opposite direction to the King’s Hut. When I arrived, I noticed Alexis wasn’t there. It was as well. I needed to clear my head before dealing with her. So I quickly changed into my running gear and left for the trail.
As I ran, I prayed. I ruminated and I planned. So much had happened over the past five months and this severe run had given me the time to consider it all. I couldn’t promise I had figured out, all I would do with this woman, but I could guarantee my confidence in knowing I had it all under control. There’d been so much to consider: Alexis’ father, my parents, work, ministry, her impending training, her future employment, my suspension of counseling, her overall compliance. I gave a moment of contemplation to all the factors. Then I prayed some more. The landscape, even in the forest portion of the island was incredible; trees with enough distance for air to push through, foliage of a gorgeous mixture of varying hues, and soil that wasn’t harsh on my joints. I remembered camping out here from sun up to sun down while fasting years ago, lost in my journey. It was my wilderness when I needed centering.
I’d been out for close to two hours, running most of that time. When I hit the border of the back of the community, I laid out to stretch. As I lay on the ground doing my counts, Taja approached me.
“You’re still at it, I see,” he commented on my stretching.
“Health is wealth, my brother. You should come with me on my run in the morning.”
“Ah,” he waved off the notion. “I leave the working out for you stud guys. Me, I may be short, but I am naturally strong.” He laughed.
I joined in with him.
“So,” I grunted, stretching out my back. Being camped in a plane for nearly twenty-four hours had really done a number on me. “How’s the wife?”
“She’s getting stronger.” His face fell into a scowl.
She’s depressed.
I tried to explain that to the family years ago. A counseling and medication therapy combo would work wonders for her, but their culture didn’t readily accept her condition. They simply labeled it as overall illness.
I sighed as I halted my movements, still trying to catch my breath. “She can get better, you know?”
Taja shook his head, his eyes flitted all around, everywhere except on me. This was progress. I gestured toward a crate underneath a tree near the laundry house for us to talk. He followed and that’s where I spent the next few hours. Though I’d only spoken to Taja for less than an hour about mental illness,—because he had to get back to his job as chief of transportation—several others saw me in passing and stopped by to speak. Eventually, I found myself speaking with Iwan, the head of the health ministry, here on the island. It somehow morphed into a fruitful Bible study about the concept of declaring healing by the stripes Jesus bore on the cro
ss according to scripture. I’d become so engrossed that I didn’t realize a small crowd had gathered.
“Master Carmichael,” I heard from just above my head. It was Natalia, her usual suggestive grin on full display. “Your wife is hungry. She’s ready for her second meal; you haven’t had your first.” She did a reverse nod. “I have the kitchen preparing a big lunch for you. Come.” She turned to the others. “He’ll be here for two weeks. He’s not rested and must eat. You can see him later. Go.” She gently shooed them then took me by the arm to usher me to stand.
When I did, I gave my word that I’d speak to everyone, individually, soon. Natalia scurried behind me as I hobbled back to my appointed hut.
“Where’s my wife?”
“She’s still being tortured by Yanti.” She hissed. “Though I am sure she’d rather be in your bed.”
I chuckled. “I’m going to shower for lunch, but I need a few things in my hut for right after, Natalia.”
“Okay,” she engaged me.
eleven
Ezra
The first thing I noticed was her giggle. The simple sound of her mirth struck my groin each time. Then her thick thighs came into vision as she parted with Yanti. She wore little white shorts that exposed each muscle of her legs. I needed to keep focus.
Just get through the meal.
When Alexis’ eyes met mine, the smile slowly faded from her plush lips. The lips that I wanted all over me—well, in the places that would elicit the most pleasure. Now that she’s mine, I can allow my thoughts, my unholy desires for her to run freely. How I was able to abstain up until this point, I had no idea.
“…when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it…”
How had I endured up until now? When she plopped into her seat across from me, her small tits bounced in her tight tank. Had she been wearing a bra? I swallowed hard.
Clearing my throat, I adjusted myself in my seat. “Have you been taking in the island?”