by Sahara Kelly
“I am glad you have gifts from your friends with you when you travel,” she said gently, linking hands with both Hari and Sami and squeezing them.
“To judge by Sami’s carpet and this flower, they care a great deal for you. Thank you for allowing me to see them.”
Suddenly the room rocked a little and Alana gasped, glad that she had two strong hands to cling to.
Sami met Hari’s gaze over Alana’s head.
“We’re here.”
Chapter 16
Alana stepped through a door into Paradise. Or at least what could well have passed for Paradise.
The first thing that struck her was the light. It was brilliant, very white, and reminded her of photos she’d seen of Greek islands, where the light seemed different than other places. She walked forward slowly, eyes wide, taking in her surroundings. It was nothing short of fantastic, in the real sense of the word.
There was color—color everywhere. Gardens spilled their blooms around her, massive trees offering shade, and smaller shrubs covered with incredibly tinted blooms. Gently guided by Hari and Sami, she moved down a stone path, feeling the warmth of the tiles caressing her bare feet.
She heard laughter ahead and the sound of water splashing. She turned and glanced at her companions, a question in her eyes.
“These are the Pleasure Gardens of Anyela,” said Sami.
“This is where we spend some time in our youth and freedom, discovering the joys that giving and receiving pleasure can bring,” added Hari, nodding down a path that led off to their left.
Alana followed his gaze. She saw a young couple in the dappled shade of some kind of giant palm tree, locked in an embrace that was incredibly passionate. It wasn’t until the woman raised her leg to clasp the man’s thigh that Alana realized he was buried deep inside as they kissed. Rocking back and forth, they moaned, completely oblivious to the world around them.
Hari encouraged Alana to move on.
“Let us allow them their pleasure, Alana-love. It is acceptable to explore the physical nature of love here, but not to treat it as a spectator sport—we try to maintain a little privacy—although…” Hari’s eyebrow rose as they rounded a corner and passed an alcove containing a bench where an enthusiastic young man on his knees was devouring the pussy of a very receptive young woman.
“Perhaps things have become a little more open since we left, my brother,” murmured Sami, walking Alana past the panting couple.
“What’s that?” asked Alana, pointing at a magnificent structure that had just become visible in the distance. “It looks like the Taj Mahal’s baby brother.”
Sami grinned. “That is the Temple of Time, Alana-delight. The Guardian traditionally has his quarters there, and it is also the place where the wise men of our world gather to oversee the passing of time. None have seen it except for the Guardian and the Ancients who monitor such things.”
They had reached a large open area—the smooth marble tiles underfoot had given way to soft terracotta—and fountains were splattering luminous water droplets everywhere. A large pool—more like a lake, really—was surrounded by urns overflowing with plants in every color she could imagine and some she couldn’t. People were sitting, lying, reclining, and sprawling all over the place. There were some who were dressed, some partially so, and others completely nude. They shared one thing in common, thought Alana uncomfortably. They were all gorgeous.
She sucked in her stomach, only to let it out on a gasp as she watched one lovely woman cry out and writhe in the throes of orgasm at the hands of her lover. My goodness, thought Alana, I’m in the middle of a real-life orgy. No, she amended, watching a nubile young woman with delicately green-shaded skin and blue hair shed her silks and scamper into the water, followed by an amazingly erect young man with beautifully sculpted buns. Make that Club-Med, galactic- style.
More trees, some palms, some looking like weeping willows with huge white flowers hanging from their branches, clustered along the boundaries of the water, offering shade to those who had chosen to lie on the many floating leaves. And what leaves they were. Some were over six feet across, and about as far from a frog’s lily pad as Alana could ever have guessed. These leaves were occupied by all kinds of people in just about every position of sexual ecstasy.
There were couples enjoying the simple pleasures of straightforward fucking, sending ripples across the water to others who enjoyed the rocking motion as they, in turn, found their pleasure.
Other pads held a single occupant, trailing legs in the water, while a partner’s head nestled between their thighs.
“How deep is that water?” asked Alana, the thought of drowning while coming crossing her ever-practical mind as she watched two lovely silver beings frolic all over each other above the water and then sink with a moan beneath the surface.
“Not very, and they are all taught to swim as children, Alana,” said Sami.
“Children? You have children here?” Alana turned, shocked, to Hari and Sami.
“Of course we have children here, Alana.”
“Not here, as in here…” added Hari, waving his hands at the scene of lustful sensuality before them. “This is strictly for unmated adults—a place where we can explore sex, and love, and learn about such things without restraint.”
“But the rest of Anyela is a settled, productive world,” said Sami.
“If you look over there,” he pointed to the distance, “you’ll see the hillsides of the vineyards, and further on, over on the other side of those hills, are the fertile plains where we have farms. There are high mountains for enjoyment and the occasional hunt —although we do not, as a rule, eat meat here—only when the herds get out of hand…”
“So marriage and family are permitted here?”
“Of course,” said Sami.
“Indeed they are,” added Hari.
“In fact, the Sages of our land must have families, and have established themselves as productive members of Anyelan society before they are allowed to become Ancients and join the Monitors of Time.”
Alana turned her attention back to the crowd that was frolicking around her. The women wore colorful versions of her own clothing that Sami and Hari had created for her before they left the vessel. At least, the ones who were wearing clothes did.
A scrap of silk sat low on the hips, and a matching vest was loosely tied between the breasts—nothing that could interfere with access to the important pleasure points of a woman’s body, thought Alana, her own growing warm at the idea.
The men were even more simply clad—a straight skirt wrapped around lean hips and across a flat torso, falling to mid thigh. Cool, comfortable, and vaguely Roman in appearance, it also seemed ready to fall off when necessary, and certainly allowed the excitement of the wearer to show through—several that Alana could see were tented in a very impressive fashion, as their owners became increasingly aroused.
“Hmmm. This place has potential,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
“Excuse me, Alana-love…” Hari grabbed her firmly by the elbow and led her away from the scene of naked decadence and towards a side grotto. His hands slipped under her vest and caressed her breast.
“Remember who brought you, sweet delight.” He nipped her neck playfully.
Sami brought her face around and kissed her long and hard. “Don’t forget us, Alana,” he whispered huskily.
“As if I could,” she breathed, holding them both tight to her body for a second and enjoying the warmth of their flesh against hers.
Hari stopped them in front of a large gong. “It is time,” he said. “We must let the Guardian know we have returned with our special guest.”
Holding Alana’s hand, and putting his other hand firmly on her buttocks, Sami moved her to one side as Hari reached for the mallet hanging down beside the gong.
He struck a resounding blow and Alana winced slightly as the ringing tone billowed around them.
He moved to stand on Alana’s other
side, drawing her arm through his in a strangely formal way.
The ringing of the gong had brought a new level to the noise of chatter and laughter, and within moments, Alana, Sami and Hari were surrounded by smiling faces calling welcome and greetings to all of them. The tension she had felt from her guys drained away, and Hari and Sami were soon surrounded by their people. Alana noticed the look of awe on many a face as they bid welcome to the travelers—obviously Hari and Sami had spoken the truth when they announced that they were the best at what they do.
The chatter increased in volume, accompanied by much laughter and good-natured teasing. Alana stood back, glad to be able to have a moment to watch this homecoming for the two men she had grown to love so much.
She noticed two women hanging back from the crowd, yet both with eyes fixed on the tall genies as they laughed and kissed and clapped hands on bare shoulders.
One, a petite beauty, with blue eyes and sun streaked ash-brown hair, said something to the other, only to be met with a fierce shake of the head. Touching her shoulder, the blue-eyed lovely moved forward with purpose. Alana gasped as she recognized her blonde companion—it was the woman from Hari’s painting.
“Greetings, Honored Sami, we give thanks at your safe return,” said a quiet voice, as the vivid eyes of this beautiful woman gazed at Sami.
Paling, Sami held out his hand. “It is good to see you here, Debalhi, you are still… still unmated then?”
“I have found no one to bring me pleasure, Sami, not for many turns of the moons now…” Neither she nor Sami seemed to realize that they were still firmly clasping hands.
“My father has several new and fine rugs, you might wish to visit his shop before you leave again—perhaps there might be something you would like…” Her voice petered out as Sami’s blue gaze devoured her, passing over her breasts like a hot flame and making her nipples stand out through the pale yellow silk of her vest.
Alana quirked a mental eyebrow, surprised to see such naked emotion on Sami’s face—he who had merrily sucked her clit and shouted out his climax to the world was clinging onto one woman’s hand like it was his life preserver.
Hmmmm.
Emboldened by her friend’s success, the other woman drew a breath and approached Hari.
“Welcome home, Hari,” she said.
Hari’s face betrayed none of his feelings, but his eyes—oh yes, thought Alana, that’s where they show. Burning with unvoiced passion, Hari stared long and hard at the woman before him.
“It is good to be home, Pemalina,” he said, voice husky. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her close, just brushing her lips with his.
Alana saw her fists clench as if fighting the urge to grab him and hold him tight to those lovely breasts that trembled at his closeness.
Both Hari and Sami couldn’t hide their erections—out of the crowds of beautiful and naked people, only two women had elicited this kind of response. Alana knew she was looking at the “friends” whose gifts traveled with Hari and Sami throughout their journeys.
Hmmmm again, she thought, mind working furiously.
Hari and Sami wrenched themselves back into the moment as the crowd surged around Alana, smiling, welcoming, patting, kissing, touching—she would have felt swamped and nervous if it hadn’t been for the fact that there was such incredible happiness shining from all these lovely faces.
“Um—nice to meet you all,” she muttered, trying not to notice the large number of bare breasts and jutting cocks that bobbed about quite cheerfully.
She felt her genies come to her side protectively, and breathed a little sigh of relief as the crowd moved back.
However, it was not to give her room that the people were moving—it was to make way for a new arrival.
He strode boldly down the path towards Alana, the sun glinting on his tumble of shoulder length black hair and sparking off the silver that glinted at his temples. He wore black silk loose pants, slung very low on his hips, and an open silk tunic which fell from his broad shoulders, catching the breeze as he walked and billowing out on either side. His chest was a thing of beauty with the lightest touch of black hair scattered over solid flesh, narrowing to a thin line pointing down to his trousers. He was barefoot, gorgeous, and Alana’s entire body tightened with arousal as he neared her.
“You!” she gasped as she recognized him. “You sold me the vessel.”
“Alana, may we present—the Guardian,” said Sami, bowing low.
The others followed suit, bowing low before this man who held so much power in his hands. Gone were the elegant business suit and the charming demeanor of a gallery owner. Now there was nothing but raw sexuality, and an intelligent energy that surrounded him like heat.
His eyes were nearly black and burned into Alana from beneath straight brows. Gazing at him squarely in the face, Alana noticed the touch of arrogance in the angle of his chin, and the way his moustache and goatee tilted at her in an almost accusing fashion.
“Greetings, Miss West,” he said, in a rather disinterested tone. “Welcome to Anyela.”
Alana found herself on the horns of a dilemma. Long a vocal opponent of what she liked to call “arrogant managerial machismo,” she found herself face-to-face with someone who really looked like he was a prime candidate for the title. On the other hand, her body was encouraging her to rip off her clothes, lie down, spread her legs and beg him to fuck her brains out. What to do?
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Mr. Guardian…” she began, not sure how one addressed the “Guardian” of a time portal. That never got covered in Cosmo’s Q and A columns.
“I’m sure it is,” he drawled. “Now let’s get to the ceremony, shall we?” He turned away abruptly and strode off down another path.
“Well,” snorted Alana, hands on hips. “I hope he’s better at guarding time than he is on manners.”
Hari and Sami winced.
“Alana, he carries many grave burdens and is as close to a ruler as we have here. It is his right to be that way if he chooses.”
“Hmpf…Not if he wants loyal and happy subjects. How does he know people won’t get upset if he acts like that and try and stage a coup or something?”
She was interrupted by a chokingly orgasmic cry as they passed a couple seated on top of each other.
“Well, okay, people might be a bit too busy for a revolution, but there’s still no excuse for that kind of…of…attitude…” She flounced off the path after the Guardian, leaving Hari and Sami to follow. She was quite aware that two silent women had also decided to join the group, but said nothing as they walked on.
They reached what seemed to be a public square of some kind—open buildings housed storefronts offering many different selections of merchandise—it was a shopper’s heaven and Alana’s fingers itched to browse.
“Later, Alana—attend to the Guardian’s words, please,” urged Hari, directing her attention away from the stalls.
“Urgh,” she groaned. “This is truly torture.”
The Guardian had stepped onto a low dais and was waiting for the crowd to assemble.
“Candidates for the role of Qualifier, stand forward,” barked the Guardian.
A sizeable number of very nicely hung young men dropped their silks and stepped forward. Goodness, thought Alana. This could get interesting.
Hari and Sami stepped away from Alana’s side—she felt their movement rather than saw it, and turned with a sound of distress.
“It is now time for you to undergo the graduation ceremony, Alana. We can do no more but tell you that you are in our hearts…” The looks on their faces were almost identical—a blend of pride, passion and sadness.
This was the end of her journey with them, she realized, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Alana West,” said the Guardian loudly. “You have been selected to fulfill the Graduation Ceremony here on Anyela. At the conclusion of this ceremony you will be granted permanent possession of all the abilities you have l
earned over the past period of time in company with our two delegates, Hari and Sami.” He nodded in their direction, and they bowed their heads respectfully.
“Your life will change for the better—you will be filled with the knowledge of the pleasure you can give and receive and you will play an important role in the future of your timeline, although we cannot divulge to you what that role will be.”
His black-eyed gaze rested on Alana, sending sensual shivers down her abdomen to her clit. She knew her body was moistening and was helpless to stop it. This damn Guardian could probably make her come just by looking at her.
“Understanding all these benefits, are you now ready to begin the Graduation Ceremony?”
Alana took a deep breath as an idea crystallized into a plan deep within her.
Gazing right back into the Guardian’s eyes, she raised her head.
“No.”
Chapter 17
The silence that fell was total. Not a leaf rustled in the luxuriant vegetation that surrounded the square, nor a body twitched amongst the people who had been shocked into immobility.
The Guardian stared at Alana, and for one second she felt a—presence—of sorts within her mind. His eyes narrowed.
“You have refused this gift we offer you?”
“Yes, I…”
“You are within your rights to do so.” The Guardian looked at the crowd that was beginning to murmur in disbelief.
“This woman has the right to refuse—just as we have the right to suggest that she reconsider this decision.”
“But, I want…”
The Guardian ignored her.
“Take her to the Loom.”
He strode off the dais without a backward glance, as two rather confused men came to either side of Alana and grasped her arms firmly.
“But I didn’t get to…”
“You must come with us, Mistress Alana,” they said respectfully, quite failing to meet her eyes.
She glanced around, only to see Hari and Sami with expressions of worry creasing their handsome faces. The crowd was holding them back from her.