by Sahara Kelly
She glanced around at the throng. They were beautiful, loving, free beings—her eyes passed over Debalhi and Pemalina, who were also looking very concerned. She knew she was doing the right thing.
Raising her head, she nodded at her two guards and allowed them to lead her out of the square towards a small grotto. Head up, back straight, she gave her best impression of Marie Antoinette on the way to the guillotine. Okay—bad analogy here. She stumbled slightly. This couldn’t possibly be a world that endorsed capital punishment—could it?
She breathed a sigh of relief as they reached what was obviously “the Loom.” It was being hastily cleaned of its yarns prior to her arrival, and was, indeed, a loom of sorts. The main structure was a free-standing square of about six feet—the threads were wrapped around the top bar and a moveable one on the bottom—the shuttle would be passed between as the bar moved—she assumed. She did remember something of that tour she’d taken of early weaving machines. And who said museums never taught anything useful.
Now, however, the Loom was destined for a different purpose. Alana was led to the dais upon which it stood, and placed directly beneath it. Her arms were raised and attached to the top bar by soft ropes, and her feet were pulled apart and attached to a spreader bar—again the cuffs for her ankles were soft and silky. She was not in any pain, but knew the position would probably become uncomfortable if she had to stay there for any length of time.
The last touch was a black silk blindfold.
Deprived of her sight, she felt more vulnerable and a lot more nervous now than she had just moments before.
“Alana West,” came the magisterial tones of the Guardian.
“You have refused the privilege of accepting our bounty. We now offer you the chance to change your mind. Should you continue to refuse, punishment will be inflicted—we will not despoil your body, but we will encourage you to see the error of your ways. I ask you now, before the assembled citizens of Anyela, will you accept our terms?”
Alana straightened her spine and turned in the direction of the Guardian’s voice.
“I do not accept these terms. I want to…”
“She refuses,” interrupted the Guardian. “The punishment will begin.”
Murmurs rumbled through the crowd as Alana felt her clothes being gently removed.
“You will be the object of discipline for our subjects. They are now free to exercise their skills with an assortment of different tools on your body—they are not to penetrate you or bring you to orgasm at any time. To do so is to take your place on the Loom.”
Alana heard his footsteps slapping away from her as her mind tried to absorb what he had said.
Tools—she wondered—oh, God, what tools?
She was just about to find out.
“Mistress, this will be difficult for many of us,” came a quiet voice at her side.
She heard the soft sounds of movement and then felt a stinging lash across her buttocks. It was some kind of whip.
But there were little knots on the end, and if administered correctly, these knots whipped around her hips and just stung her clit enough to arouse it. Oh gawd…
“Mistress, please understand that we do not do this to hurt you,” said another voice.
She braced herself.
This time it was a paddle, a sharp slap to her bottom that made her cheeks burn.
Within the space of an hour, she was trembling, her clit aroused to the point of pain and her buttocks on fire.
When several minutes had passed with no more takers for the whips and paddles routine, she allowed herself to slump a little, and dropped her head forward.
“Mistress Alana, may we help you for a few moments? It is allowed—if you would care to use our facilities…”
A tentative touch on her arm roused Alana.
“That would be most welcome,” she said, determined to be as gracious as a naked woman with a red backside could be.
Gentle hands freed her wrists and ankles and helped her off the dais, untying the blindfold as they did.
The light startled her for a moment and she blinked rapidly. There, at either side, were the two women who had captured the hearts of Alana’s genies. They were helping her straighten her cramped muscles as she stretched and groaned.
“Are you all right?” asked Debalhi, her blue eyes worriedly looking over Alana’s body.
“I’ll live,” sighed Alana. “How long does this go on?”
“We do not know, Mistress,” said Pemalina, glancing up through her blonde lashes as she finished untying the ankle cuffs. “No one has ever been punished on the Loom before—at least not that we remember.” She helped Alana walk slowly along a narrow path to a small white building.
It was cool and shady inside, and Alana saw with pleasure that it was both a bathroom and a shower facility. She heaved a sigh of relief as she whisked herself into the private cubicle, only to wince as her sore buttocks touched the cool surface of the seat.
“Ow!” she hissed.
“We have a soothing lotion here, Alana—it may help. Occasionally we get too much sun and it makes that pain go away. I’m sure it will help soothe your—er—skin,” called Debalhi
Alana left the cubicle and moved towards a large counter where water splashed from an ornately carved fish. To her surprise the water was warm and fragrant—she rubbed her hands under it with pleasure.
“Would you like to refresh yourself with a shower, Alana?” Debalhi nodded towards the rear of the room where a beautifully tiled area was set aside for the fountain of sparkling and glittering water that was jetting out from high on the wall.
“Would I ever. You guys are lifesavers.”
Alana walked right into the stream of water. One of the advantages of being naked —no time wasted on undressing. She stood and relished the warm droplets that bounced from her shoulders and nose, and used the soap (Blue Lotus, of course) that was set in a recessed dish nearby.
Feeling quite human again, except for a rather sore bum, she walked out, toweling herself with one of the soft cloths Pemalina had offered her.
“Lie here, Alana—let us put some lotion on your poor cheeks…” Debalhi’s worried voice touched Alana’s heart and she lay, face down, on her towel that she’d draped over a stone bench.
The touch of their hands and the feel of the lotion were heaven.
“So tell me, guys, how long have you two been in love with Hari and Sami?”
The hands that had been delicately stroking her buttocks froze.
“Alana—I—we, I mean what do you…”
“Oh Jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Alana looked over her shoulder at two pained faces.
“It’s as clear as a bell that you’re crazy about them, and they’re just as nuts about you.”
“You truly think so?”
“Bet my last buck on it…” said Alana definitively.
“What’s a buck?”
“Never mind. Just tell me how you came to fall in love with those two sweethearts?”
Pemalina snorted inelegantly, rather at odds with her hazel-eyed, fragile beauty. “You’ve seen them, and you’ve had sex with them. Where’s the question?”
“Well, yeah, sure, they’re gorgeous, great in bed, etc. etc. But you really love them, don’t you?”
“Don’t you?” asked Debalhi, resuming her application of the lotion, and not too gently this time.
“Of course I do. I couldn’t help it—I was their assignment. But I knew it was just that—a temporary assignment. If I could save the memories of being with them forever I would—they are a part of my heart now and I should hate to lose that. But you guys must have met and fallen in love differently— it’s not the same for you, living here in Anyela, is it? Why haven’t you married, or mated, or swapped lotus-oaths or whatever it is you do here…”
Pemalina sighed.
“I met Hari when he rescued me from slave traders on the Arabic peninsula. He had just finished one of his
early assignments when his journey took him across the path of the caravan I was in. My master, the man who had purchased me, was displeased and was taking it out on me. Had Hari not saved me, I’d surely be dead.”
Pemalina paused in her story to close her eyes tight against the tears that threatened to fall.
“How could I not love him? I owe him my life, and on our journey home he showed me that I was still a woman, a desirable woman, and in doing so he captured my heart for all time. I am honored that he loves me in return, but his duty is to Anyela and the genie program—he is not free to mate.”
Alana looked at Debalhi. “You too?”
Debalhi nodded. “Sami helped me escape from a funeral pyre near my home in India. I had been wed the day before to an elderly man from a neighboring village. I was barely seventeen. When he died, I was to join him—it was considered an honor to die with one’s husband. Needless to say, I didn’t consider ’Suthi’ to be much of an honor, and I was only too happy to see Sami as he leapt through the flames and whisked me off the top of the pyre. To this day, I don’t know whether my disappearance was ever noticed. But Sami noticed me. We have spent many happy hours together—he loves the rugs my father makes in his little store. And I am happy to think that he loves me a little, too…”
She modestly dropped her eyes and a blush spread over her fine breasts.
“Your father? Wouldn’t he be in India?”
“This is Anyela, Mistress. We have different customs here. When someone is brought here, there are many choices available to them. I chose to become part of a family—I love to work with yarns and rugs, and I was welcomed. Pem, here, loves children—she became a teacher in one of our schools.”
Alana sighed.
“Okay—I’m going to ask something of you two—I’d like you to trust me. Will you believe me when I tell you I think I’m going to be able to solve your problems?”
She raised herself gingerly onto the towel, pleasantly surprised when her backside didn’t scream at her.
“What do you mean, Alana?” asked Debalhi.
“I can’t tell you exactly what I’m going to do, because I don’t have all the details worked out, but I have a pretty good notion….”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the two girls sitting in front of her.
“Tell me what the graduation process entails?”
“Well,” began Pemalina, crossing her legs comfortably. “We have a special tree— the Tree of Ecstasy. At its base is a tangled shelf of branches that has grown to form a bed. This tree is always in bud, but never blooms unless a couple attains a very high level of sexual satisfaction in the bed beneath. I can’t remember the last time it flowered, can you?” She raised an eyebrow at Debalhi.
“Nope.”
“So you, as a graduate of our program, will lie on this bed with one of the Qualifiers of your choosing and see if you can make the tree bloom. That’s all there is to it.”
“Aha. And who are these Qualifiers?”
“They are males who are unmatched, and who have distinguished themselves in a variety of areas—lovemaking, oral sex, sports, academics, things like that.”
“Okay—let me see if I have this straight. I get to pick an Anyelan hot stud, go for a roll in the hay—excuse me—branches of this tree, and if the earth shakes, fireworks explode and the tree blooms, I graduate?”
Debalhi raised an eyebrow. “Well, I think you’ve got the basics. I’m not sure about the earth and the fireworks thing, though, and the tree probably won’t bloom—usually it’s just a couple of extra petals showing.”
“Punishment is to recommence,” boomed a loud voice.
“Damn—I’m really starting to get pissed off at that guy,” muttered Alana, recognizing the strident tones of the Guardian.
“Thanks, girls. I appreciate what you’ve done—and I want you to know that I don’t think there are two better, nicer, or sweeter guys around than Hari and Sami. You’d better make them happy or you’ll have me to reckon with.”
Alana put her arms around the shoulders of the two women and gave them each a quick hug. It was hard to know that these were the women who had captured the hearts of her favorite genies, but then again, all good hallucinations must come to an end sometime.
On that cheerful thought, Alana strode nakedly back to the loom, and waggled her ass at the crowd just for kicks.
Chapter 18
Within two hours, Alana’s butt was burning again, and her clit was so aroused that her juices were trickling down her legs. Her waggling instincts had long gone. The weapon of choice for the afternoon had been the whip, and some of its wielders had been very skilled and a little over-enthusiastic, flicking her swollen tissue accurately and stimulatingly time after time.
She felt the breeze cooling her shoulders and guessed that the sun was beginning to go down—or was it suns? She couldn’t remember how many there were.
Suddenly a hard chest was behind her and a very solid and familiar cock was thrusting between her cheeks.
“Alana-love, why are you doing this?” Hari nipped her earlobe gently as he rubbed slowly up and down along her cleft, being careful not to further abrade her skin.
“Omar’s balls, why don’t you just say yes to the Guardian, delight?” murmured Sami in a worried voice, coming up in front of her and sandwiching her between them.
His cock tented his trousers and Alana moaned as he rubbed against her.
“We should not be doing this, but we cannot allow you to suffer…” muttered Sami as he pressed his cock against her wet flesh.
Hari’s hands slipped around and fondled her breasts as Sami continued his pressure on her pussy.
Alana moaned.
“Oh, God, guys…you feel so good…”
“You are not supposed to orgasm, dear one, but we cannot permit you to go unfulfilled—you are still our student—we must help you if we can.” And Hari opened his trousers so that the warm velvet of his cock could caress her cleft freely.
Sami also flipped the fastening on his silks, and slid himself over Alana’s wet and sensitive clit.
They moaned in unison as an orgasm rocked the three of them simultaneously. To her amazement, she found herself the recipient of two helpings of creamy cum.
“Wow. No fog,” she whispered, as Hari gently wiped her clean and removed her blindfold.
She raised her eyes and looked at both of them.
“This is Anyela, Alana. Here, we can function as ordinary men—we can create life.”
Had she any doubts as to her current plan, they would have completely disappeared at that moment. She knew that her course was absolutely right.
“My God, this place is something else. The chocolate must be divine,” she mumbled, considering the many benefits of living in such a paradise.
“Chocolate?” asked Sami.
“We don’t have chocolate in Anyela, love,” added Hari.
Alana gaped at them. “No chocolate?”
Sami shook his head.
“No Godiva? No Dove bars? No Hershey kisses? “
“Uh uh,” answered Sami.
“Didn’t you ever bring any back with you?”
“Well—we tried once or twice, but it never made it back. We, er, ate it on the way.”
“Oh really?”
“Well, how do you share chocolate with thousands of people?” asked Sami, with a rather embarrassed cough.
“And the plants don’t grow here for some reason,” added Hari.
Alana was quiet for a moment.
“You guys have given me an idea,” she whispered. “But you’d better go before you get in trouble. Just tell me this…” she stopped them with a gaze.
“Do you two love Debalhi and Pemalina?”
Incredibly, both beautiful, hunky, bodies-to-die-for, magically powered genies blushed.
“They are very special to us, Alana,” said Hari quietly, his deep brown eyes glowing.
“We have a—a—there is something strong b
etween us,” admitted Sami.
“Then—trust me,” said Alana. “You have given me so much—let me return the favor.” She jumped as she heard voices nearing the grotto.
“I love you guys—I always will. Please be careful.”
They kissed her soundly, re-tied her blindfold and then left. Alana turned her head away as her eyes filled with tears, knowing that she had to let them go, but hating the thought of never being with them again.
Then the voices materialized into two brawny young men who were excited at the thought of trying out a couple of new toys, and for the next hour or so, Alana felt the gentle sting of the whip again.
* * * * *
It was not hard to sense that the sun had set when Alana finally found herself alone. The air had cooled considerably—for which her ass was sincerely thankful. The light no longer penetrated her blindfold, and the light rustle of the daylight creatures had given way to the low hum of the night.
Alana’s senses were on full alert as she caught the slight sound of a skimming foot on tiles.
“I should have known I was going to have a problem with you,” came a soft and rather regretful voice.
Her head jerked up at his words.
“Guardian?”
“Yes,” he answered, standing close behind her and just brushing his fingers up her spine.
She shivered and her nipples puckered.
“I want to share something with you, Alana,” he murmured, sliding his hands around her waist and raising them until her breasts rested comfortably on his palms.
“What, no whips or chains?” she snorted.
He smothered a chuckle in her neck. God, he smelled wonderful.
“No, not this time—just wait for a moment…” One hand released a breast and moved upwards to untie her blindfold. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to function in the darkness.
Soon she could make out the silhouettes of the trees against the night sky, and the beginnings of a moonrise—or several moonrises—God, this was strange. The stars were beautiful but different, and the sound of the nighttime insects had risen to a whiny drone.
“Wait for it, Alana,” he breathed into her ear, sending shudders down her vertebrae.
He delicately fondled her nipples, bringing them to their sensitive and swollen peak. His body pressed closer to her back, warming her.