I had gotten out of the Marines and between what I had saved and the government education program, I had gone to college to study business. While I eked out my savings and government stipend with odd jobs during the school year, money was pretty tight. By the summer of my sophomore year I was really anxious to get a job where I could make enough to live and still save some for the fall.
I applied through the university’s job placements service on campus and after a few days was told of a job as laborer on a scientific expedition that paid room and board plus $3,000 which looked like a fortune to me. I was surprised, as this seemed like a lot more than most summer jobs. I said that I was interested and was told to go see a botany professor named Clark for an interview.
I showed up at the scheduled time and was ushered into Professor Clark’s office. There I met Dr. Patricia Clark, Professor of Biology, and Dr. William Clark, Professor of Zoology. They were a husband and wife team and while she seemed to be the leader of the team both were friendly and open, insisting that I call them Pat and Will.
After the opening introductions Pat said, "We were interested in your application because you are older than most undergraduates and might have your hormones under better control. What do you think of topless women?"
Now this was a strange interview. I looked at her and said, "Well I am heterosexual and will admit to a fondness for bare breasts. I am not certain of what you are looking for."
Will said, "We are going on expedition to an island in the South Pacific that is populated by a very primitive tribe. Both men and women are dressed in nothing but loincloths and you will find that the women are very attractive and rather sensual. The real question is can you keep your hands to yourself?"
I said, "Look I have never forced my attentions on any woman. I may enjoy looking but I can keep from doing more."
"Even if the women try to seduce you?" Asked Pat.
I responded, "I suppose so, though I haven’t had much experience fending off women to be honest."
"This is very important and could be life threatening. We had a bad experience last year and it cost a young man’s life," said Pat.
"Why don’t you tell him the entire story?" Will prodded.
It seemed that the island tribe had very strange mating rituals and that intercourse outside of those rituals was a taboo punishable by slow and painful death. Last year a student had been hired to provide the muscle for the expedition and had allowed one of the native girls to seduce him. Both he and the girl had been put to death by the tribe. As the professors had described it both participants had been slowly cut and bled to death with the wounds centering on the lovers’ genitalia. More specifically they had been staked down and the married women of the tribe had slowly castrated him and cut off his penis. After each cut they would cauterize the wound with a hot iron and then would make a further incision. After two days the man was dead. They then had the woman staked out and began the entire process with her. She had only lasted a day.
I assured the professors that with the picture of a slow and painful death they had painted, I was certain I could remain celibate for the three months of the expedition no matter how attractive the women were. I was surprised to learn that while I had to abstain from intercourse complete celibacy was not required as the natives regarded oral sex, both felatio and cunilingus, as normal bodily functions freely exchanged among the unmated residents of the island.
The professors apparently decided that I had passed the interview because they then went into greater explanations of the native customs. Apparently the tribe maintained its insularity and primitive rituals by killing anyone who reached the island without prior permission. The French authorities tolerated this as the island held no mineral resources and was easier to control by allowing the native tribe to do as it wished.
Next the professors explained the tribal mating rituals and the details of the work I would be performing. The work was nothing astonishing. Primarily I would be helping dig up plants for Pat and helping trap and cage animals and reptiles for Will. As the collection grew I would be watering both the plants and the animals and feeding the animals. The mating rituals were, however, astonishing.
Apparently the natives grew up nude (except for a woven sandal sort of thing) until the boys began getting hard and the girls began menstruating. Then they were considered young adults and began dressing in loincloths. The young men and women still freely mixed with one another and learned how to please the other sex with hands and mouths as the mood struck them. Once the man had passed his rites of initiation into manhood, by successfully completing a hunt, he was free to select any mate he chose from among the young women.
He would signify his choice by ‘capturing’ her (though in fact she was often a willing captive) and placing a rope leash around her neck and tying her hands behind her. Once this was done they were a couple and off limits to all others. They spent a courtship period of roughly two weeks in which she was essentially his bound slave, but during which he provided for her. He hunted game and picked wild fruit for their meals, cooked and fed her, and even helped her with her sanitary needs, all without ever letting her hands loose. Each night she was lashed to a bed in the unwed women’s hut and each morning he would reclaim his fiancée and bind her for the day’s activities. At the end of this period the tribe then moved to the wedding ceremony.
That was a big deal. It was a day of feasting during which the female spent six hours of public sexual arousal by the other women of the tribe. Both the man and woman were tied spread eagle facing one another. The woman’s rope leash was removed and a leather collar was sewn around her neck indicating her status as a married woman. The man was never touched for the entire six hours but the woman was teased by the tribes married women and brought to the edge of orgasm and held there for the entire period. The rest of the tribe ate and drank and watched the two participants but basically it was arousing the woman without allowing her to orgasm in front of the man for six hours. Although the man was untouched, watching his chosen one aroused continuously usually had him hard for most of the period. At the end of that time the woman was asked if she accepted him as her husband.
Rarely, if the man had not been a good enough provider, or hadn’t been gentle enough, the woman would refuse and would then be untied have the collar cut off, and would resume her place among the unmarried women of the tribe. Most often, however, she accepted the man. In that case the wedding was culminated with their first intercourse. She was released and impaled herself on the man’s penis in front of the tribe, riding him to orgasm. This, explained Will, allowed the bride, who was a virgin, to control the rate of penetration for their first coupling. But, noted Pat, after so many hours of arousal, the bride was generally so horny that the penetration was swift and the initial pain overlooked.
In any case, at the conclusion of that the man was also released and they began life as a happily married and generally satiated couple. Since the marriage had been consummated with her on top, they would go to their hut and the man would tie her to his bed and reassert his superiority through the rest of the day and the night. Although, as Will said with a laugh, in any society, male superiority in a married couple is pretty much a fiction maintained only to bolster the man’s ego. Even Pat had to laugh at that.
It all sounded pretty primitive and very public to me. I guess upon reflection it isn’t all that different from our weddings except that for the natives, the brides were all virgins and the courtship had more public touching and petting. No one was married until the tribe was satisfied that they were compatible and comfortable with each other.
Continuing the briefing, Will said, "So you see, youngsters without loincloths are too young to be touched. Women with loincloths but no collar are available for mutual pleasure but only with the hands and mouth, never for intercourse. Any woman with a collar is off limits. It is very important you understand these distinctions for your own safety."
I asked, "Didn’t you guys try to save last year’s student from being tortured?"
Pat answered, "Oh no! We couldn’t break the local laws and customs, we would never have been allowed to return to complete our studies."
While I understood that travelers in a strange country were subject to local laws, I got the distinct impression that the Clarks were considerably more interested in their research project than the life of a mere laborer or two. Despite this, I decided that the risk wasn’t too great so long as so long as I kept my pecker in my pants or, more appropriately, my long one in my loincloth. To make a long story short I signed on as laborer to the expedition.
The trip to the island was mostly uneventful. We flew to Tahiti spent two nights in a hotel while final supplies were purchased and then boarded a coastal steamer to take us and our equipment to the island. There was one surprise when we neared the island and Will presented me with a loincloth and belt. While I had understood that this was the native dress I guess it had never occurred to me that we were going to join them. Oh well, I guessed that "When in Rome..."
One immediate advantage of going native was that I was able to admire Pat. She was 45 or so and while gravity had been tugging at her chest, she was still a lovely woman. While there was some sag to her breasts they were full and looked attractive and inviting to me. She actually blushed when she saw me staring and turned away on some pretext.
Have you ever noticed how sexy a woman’s bare back can be? The smooth slope of her shoulders the defined angles of her shoulder blades the narrowing of her waist above the curve of her hips. Pat wore her hair short (easier to keep clean and more practical on expeditions) and the graceful column of her neck was very inviting. I smiled at Will, ran a finger along the side of her neck and out along her shoulder and said, "You had better get your collar on this one before I grab her for my own."
Pat laughed and made some remark about being old enough to be my mother, but I could see that she was pleased. Actually Will did fasten a leather collar around Pat’s graceful neck. As he buckled it he said, "There, that ought to protect her from randy young men." Then he added with a smile, "Both on the island and aboard ship."
The ship couldn’t get very close to the shore but had to anchor about 300 yards from the beach. The ship’s crew helped load our gear into the motor launch but only Pat, Will and I were permitted ashore. It took about seven trips to bring all of our gear ashore and we worked the rest of the day moving things into place at the designated campsite and setting up in the huts built in prior years.
The first order of business the next morning was to pay our respects to the head of the native village and present him with the gifts that we had brought (a new steel axe and a good cross cut saw as well as several plugs of chewing tobacco). There was a fair amount of ritual attached to that meting and it pretty well took the rest of the morning. In the afternoon I got started unpacking our gear with Will’s assistance. Pat spent some time helping us but most of her afternoon was spent scouting for specimens she wanted to study.
Once the camp was set up I worked with Will laying out humane traps and snares for the animals he wanted to catch. When the trap line was established it only took an hour or so each morning to visit the traps and cage specimens he felt were worth study. After that I helped Pat dig and pot the plants she wanted to bring back. The afternoons were pretty much my own, though I did feed and water our growing menagerie and plant collection each afternoon.
With plenty of free time I explored the island, did a bit of fishing to supplement our packaged food supply (I never encountered anything large enough to hunt for meat and Will wouldn’t have let me kill it if we had) and generally enjoyed lazing around the beautiful sand beaches watching the natives. The natives were some sort of Polynesian mixture and were generally an attractive race. I found the women particularly seductive and the sight of their brown skinned breasts bouncing and jiggling did nothing to detract from my enjoyment.
One thing became clear, and that is, that it is almost impossible to hide an erection when wearing nothing but a loincloth. It became a bit of an amusement to the young women to see how easily I became aroused but they would happily pull away my loincloth and masturbate me. All of this was on the beach in broad daylight and in sight of others, which I found very strange at first but to which I quickly grew accustomed.
At first I was too shy (or too hung up with ‘civilized’ morals) to reciprocate but after a bit I began to return the favor with my hands. I don’t know if they had never heard of the G spot, but I seemed to be able to produce more satisfying orgasms than the native lads and soon I had a following of young women who wanted to pleasure me and invite me to get them off.
While I have always enjoyed working with my hands I love oral sex and, having gotten over my initial self-consciousness, quickly moved to cunilingus. This seemed to move my lovely ladies to respond with their mouths and I was soon getting more oral sex than I could have imagined.
I distinctly remember one pair of ladies who decided to have a marathon one afternoon. I was kneeling in the sand, happily licking one woman when the other came up and said something to her. She giggled, between moans, and pulled away from me. Now this was strange because I knew she was near an orgasm. Instead she pushed my shoulders back indicating I should lie down on the sand. I complied and she squatted down over my mouth allowing me to resume licking and sucking. As I did I felt my loincloth being pulled off and soon a warm wet tongue was playing lollipop with my stiff member. I don’t know where this girl had learned but she must have taken lessons somewhere because she had me spurting very rapidly.
I am proud to note that I never missed a beat with my tongue on her friend’s pussy. This despite the fact that she was still licking at my flaccid member. In fact she enveloped the thing in her mouth and managed to add suction to the ongoing ministrations of her tongue around my glans. Oh my! I was getting stiff again much more rapidly than I would have thought possible.
It was about that time when the woman above me exploded into her orgasm. I relaxed for a minute as she stood and then I felt a warm mouth leaving my once again hard penis. I was about to protest being left in such a state when it was replaced by another mouth and, as I looked up, I saw another pussy descending on my face. The two women had switched places!
And so the afternoon went. I don’t know if it could be called female domination but I would lick one pussy to orgasm only to have it replaced by the other. During the entire time the woman not riding my face was licking, sucking and blowing me. I got hard more rapidly than I would have believed and came more times than I thought was possible for a male. In fact I lost count of how many times I came or how many times I brought them to orgasm. Eventually I just passed out in the sand and, when I awoke, my playmates were gone and my loincloth was discretely draped over my very flaccid member and groin.
Of course, during this time I saw several ‘captures’ by native men of what appeared to be willing native women. Invariably the men treated their captive fiancée kindly and remarkably gently. I also got to observe several of the wedding celebrations. The married women were apparently expert on keeping the bride to be on the edge of orgasm. I saw them use hands, lips, feathers, fur and a great deal of skill on the bound fiancée. It was very erotic to watch the groom, bound just across from her was invariably hard for the entire six hours. When finally released the bride would impale herself in the female superior position and proceed to ride the groom in what could only be described as rape except that both participants were willing. Willing, hell! After six hours of stimulation, even though his was visual rather than tactile, they were both incredibly horny.
We were about two weeks from the end of our expedition when Will and I were out checking our traps and snares. With a bumper crop of specimens already in cages, most of what we caught was simply released. Only the really outstanding specimens would be taken back to camp and generally a less spectacular specimen would be released in its place.
At any rate we were almost at the far side of the island when I happened to glance toward the beach and saw something in the sand. I motioned to Will and made my way out to the beach. As I approached it became clear that the something I saw was a nude woman who had apparently been washed ashore from some passing ship or perhaps was the survivor of a boating accident. She was unconscious and sunburned and wrinkled from long exposure to the salt water but even in that state it was clear that she was a remarkably gorgeous woman.
Gorgeous. I say that because that was what came to mind at the time. The thing is I don’t know why it came to mind. I had always preferred well-rounded women. Remember I had just spent two and a half months watching the half nude and totally beautiful Polynesian native women. The native girls on the island with their rounded butts and generous hips made for child bearing were my ‘type’ of woman. They had full, well-rounded breasts and narrow waists and just oozed sexuality to me. The woman on the ground was long and lean, muscular but not very well rounded at all. Oh don’t misunderstand me, she had curves, if not particularly generous ones, with a narrow waist and perhaps B cup breasts, but she seemed to give off the appearance of strength more than sexuality.
In any case, I rolled her onto her back and tried to give her some water form our canteen. Instead of swallowing, she choked on it. Eventually I pulled off my loincloth, wet one corner of it and squeezed a few drops at a time into her mouth. This seemed to work better but clearly we were going to have to carry her back to our camp.
Now in stories the hero sweeps the woman up into his arms and trots off through the jungle. In reality I don’t know how far I could carry her and the path was much too narrow and twisty to allow us to get through without continually banging into trees and branches. Fortunately we had a bamboo pole used to carry the cages out and back. Taking Will’s loincloth and mine I tied the woman’s wrists and ankles and slid the pole between them. With Will on one end and me on the other we lifted her off the ground.
Oh, oh! Bad engineering. As we lifted the woman folded at the waist and her hands and feet slid toward the center of the pole until her butt thumped onto the ground. After a few minutes thought I retied her wrists and ankles, this time wrapping the loincloth tightly around the pole. Voila! Now when we lifted her bound wrists and ankles only slid to the first joint in the bamboo allowing us to shoulder the pole with the gorgeous nude woman hanging well off the ground like a deer or some such prey.
We made our way back to camp and managed to get her into our hut safely but knew that on an island this size news of a stranger’s arrival would soon get to the tribal chief and that she, and perhaps even we three, could be in great danger. While we discussed the situation Pat managed to bring the woman around. We hadn’t bothered to untie her and she was very angry as she realized she was bound. Pat and Will managed to calm her down as I worked on freeing her and, not incidentally, recovering our loincloths.
As Will and I got dressed (if tucking a loin cloth into a belt can be called dressing) she realized that she was nude and wrapped one arm across her breasts with the other hand trying to cover her pussy. I said don’t bother we have already seen your breasts and we have bigger problems to worry about. I had meant the native reaction to strangers but she took it as a slight to the size of her breasts and said, "Well if it is size that matters you probably don’t need to bother with that cloth."
Ouch. This was a quick witted and feisty woman. It might have been fun to banter with her but Will and Pat interrupted rapidly explaining the native reaction to strangers and the danger we were all in. We talked for a while until Pat said, "You could take her as your wife."
I must have looked at Pat weirdly because she continued, "Don’t you see? You can tie her and leash her as your fiancée. The natives don’t regard women as a separate unit once they are leashed. They are just the man’s fiancée and personal sex toy until the wedding ceremony. With any luck the ship will be here before the marriage is consummated and even if it isn’t you could ‘marry’ her here on the island and get a waiver or an annulment once we get back to Tahiti."
"Wait a minute. I am not going to be his fiancée and I am certainly not going to be his sex toy and I am definitely not going to get married to this guy," said our visitor.
"I am not too keen on the idea myself," I replied.
Will and Pat went over the situation again and we began to see the logic of it. They were explaining the courtship and mating rituals to her when I saw the chief approaching with several men. I called a warning and grabbed some rope.
The woman was still weak from her ordeal and though she fought me I had no trouble rolling her onto her stomach and tying her hands behind her. She was bitching and cursing me the entire time so I grabbed a spare loincloth, tied a knot in the middle and jammed the knot into her mouth to silence her. I fastened it around her head to keep it in place. She was angry and frightened and kicked at me though she was still barefoot and didn’t do much harm. I put a quick loop around her ankles to stop the kicking and tied another rope snugly around her neck to serve as a leash. Forcing her to kneel on the floor I sat down next to her, holding the leash to control her. As I did, the village chief rapped at our doorframe (we didn’t actually have a door, just an opening for one).
The Chief sat on the floor in front of Will and spoke to him in French. Pat sat on my left side and translated ‘sotto’ voice for me. The chief said, "This woman has come uninvited to our Island. The penalty for that is death by stoning."
Well that was a pretty strong opening and Will seemed to be floundering so, with all the foolishness of youth, I leapt in and said, "You must not kill her. She is a gift to me from the gods. I asked the gods for a mate and they provided her."
I motioned for Will to translate and when he had I saw that the chief was surprised. He looked at me and skeptically asked through Will, "If you wanted a mate why didn’t you take a women from our tribe as the other young men do instead of asking for this one?"
I could tell from his tone that he was suspicious but that at the same time he didn’t want to risk offending the "gods." I replied, "Your women live on this island. I wanted a mate to come live with me on my island."
"Your island?" asked Will.
"Manhattan... Hilton Head... Catalina... South Padre. What the hell difference does it make?" I responded.
Will understood and translated my reply to the chief. He thought about this and said, "If what you say is true, we must not offend the gods by killing her. Still she has broken our rules and must bear some punishment. I will think upon this with the elders and return to you tomorrow."
After he had left I untied the woman’s feet and removed the gag. She said "My god, they are savages. They would have killed me."
I said, "We are not out of the woods yet. Let’s see what he comes up with tomorrow."
She turned around and asked, "How about my hands?"
"They stay tied during the entire engagement period."
"You can’t be serious."
"Yes, I am. I think the idea is to keep you dependent on your husband-to-be. Perhaps it is just to keep you from masturbating," I said with a grin. "In any case we are on thin ice or the South Seas equivalent and had better stick with the native rituals as much as possible."
"You’re a pervert and an asshole."
Pat said, "No he is right. It would be best if everyone saw you observing the ‘normal’ mating rituals. We have dodged a bullet for today. Quick thinking on your part." This last was directed toward me.
Pat and Will proceeded to fill Barbara, as we learned her name was, on their experience with island justice last year. They also filled her in on the courting and marriage customs.
She, in turn told us that she had been trying to single hand an ocean going trimaran (a sail boat with three slim hulls connected by booms) from Hawaii to Australia. She had gotten caught in a bad storm and knew that she had been blown well off course before the water got to her GPS and other navigational aids. Eventually the boat broke apart and sank. She had been nude, except for her shoes, on board and had gotten into heavy rain gear when the storm began. Once she was in the water she had to shed the jacket and shoes to keep from being weighed down. She managed to get a floating box and was in the water until she passed out. What happened to the floating box or how she came ashore she couldn’t explain.
This was one tough lady. In any case we had dinner with me feeding my ‘fiancée’ in approved island style. We discussed sleeping arrangements but were interrupted by a girl from the village who had been sent to take her to the unmarried women’s hut. Barbara was frightened but we all thought that this was a good sign that the islanders were treating her as they would any other ‘engaged’ woman. I walked with her to the woman’s hut and promised her that I would be back for her early in the morning.
Early next morning I went to the village and claimed Barbara from the sleeping hut. I tied her hands and leashed her. Then, as I led her back towards our camp, I asked her how the night had gone. She said that the others had been decent enough but that they were fascinated by her white skin and that there had been quite a bit of touching and exploring. They had removed her loincloth, shown her where to urinate and then tied her spread eagle on a not too uncomfortable bed frame. Aside from the touching and stroking she had pretty much been left alone.
After breakfast I towed Barbara along by her leash as Will and I checked out our snares and traps. When that was done we drifted to the beach. I told her to spread her legs and that I was going to masturbate her to an orgasm as that was the sort of behavior that the others would expect to see from a courting couple.
Barbara told me in no uncertain terms that this was not going to happen. I sighed and said, "You need some lessons on this master slave relationship business." I sat down on a log, pulled her to my side and levering her bound arms up forced her over my lap. She struggled mightily but with her hands bound and a leash around her neck she really didn’t have much chance. I pulled her loincloth off from the real and let it dangle in front of her. She was still yelling objections and curses as I began to hit her ass with my hand. I don’t know how long I spanked her but her curses had been replaced by crying when I stopped. I ordered, "Spread you legs for me."
"Never!" She got out between sobs. We had attracted an audience and many smiling knowing glances passed between the others on the beach. Apparently spanking reluctant fiancées was not unknown.
"We can do this as long as you like," I said as I resumed spanking her now quite red ass. That by the way was sheer bravado. Barbara was womanly but, like the rest of her, she had a tight muscular ass. I am certain it hurt her more than it did me, but my hand was feeling the blows and I am not certain how much longer I would have wanted this to go on. I was, however, determined that I would win this encounter and that she would learn to act the part of a docile love slave no matter what she actually felt.
Fortunately Barbara is an intelligent woman and she realized that sooner or later she would have to yield. She spread her legs. I stopped spanking her and let my fingers slip down her crack and, much to my surprise, I found her pussy to be very wet. She had apparently become aroused by the spanking. In any case I slipped my fingers into her slit and searched for her clitoris. I let go of her hands and used my other hand to fondle her red and hot buns. Once I found her clit it took just a very few minutes to get a satisfactory orgasm from her. Several of the natives smiled and gave me a ‘thumbs up’ sign as they drifted away.
I took pity on Barbara and walked her into the waves up to our waist so that the cool water helped soothe her buns. I told her that I didn’t really want to hurt her but following this master slave thing was important to keep up appearances for the natives. She glared at me but said that she understood. She also promised to find some way to get even with me once we were off the island. I smiled and then, for some reason I can’t quite define, I kissed her.
This was one very neat feisty lady and I just felt like it, O.K.? I mean I was the master and if I wanted to kiss my slave girl I didn’t need a reason did I? In any case, I did.
She looked at me strangely and said, "Don’t get carried away Maaster (with a great deal of sarcasm). You made me come but it wasn’t all that great."
I was pissed. She always had a smart mouth comment. Still, I thought about what she had said as I led the way back to our camp. I don’t know why I should care. After all this was all a charade for her safety, wasn’t it. But still, I couldn’t help thinking about it.
About halfway back I realized she was correct. Oh, all the mechanical stimulation had been correct but there was no real feeling. It probably hadn’t been any better than using a vibrator. I had read somewhere that sex was better with someone you loved or at least liked. But I had always thought of that as romance novel slush. Thinking about it though, I guess Barbara was right and it hadn’t been that good a sexual experience. I made a silent promise to myself that the next time I would rock her world.
Then we came into sight of our camp and all thoughts of sexual encounters disappeared as I saw the chief with a crowd of villagers. Next to the chief stood a couple of large men from the village. It wasn’t the men that bothered me; it was the large cat of nine tails whip that one of them was carrying. It looked like something our of a Napoleonic sea epic movie.
When I got to the camp the chief went into the hut bidding me to follow. Pat and Will were already sitting on the floor waiting for my return. As before the chief spoke in French with Will while Pat was translating for my benefit. The Chief said, "The council agrees we can not kill a gift from the gods." I breathed a mental sigh of relief but it was short lived as he continued, "But there must be a punishment for breaking our laws and landing on our island. We will give her 24 strokes with the lash and all will be satisfied."
Twenty-four lashes with a cat of nine tails. Damn! That could kill or cripple especially someone as slight as Barbara. Especially as she hadn’t fully recovered from her ordeal at sea. Spanking her was one thing but I couldn’t let this happen. Before I knew what was happening I said, "No!" Every eye turned to me. Apparently that didn’t require translation.
I said (through Pat), "A man must protect his fiancée according to the customs." Pat translated but I could see from the chief’s face that this wasn’t going over well so, before he could respond I added, "If a man’s dog bites you are you angry with the dog or the man who did not control his chattel? My woman is just a woman. Shouldn’t your anger be with me?"
The chief seemed more interested in this line of reasoning and asked what I was suggesting. I took a deep breath and said, "I asked the gods to provide this woman. If you must punish someone for her presence on this island you should punish me." Pat was stunned but Will stepped in and translated what I said.
The chief asked, "You wish to be lashed instead of the woman?"
I said, "I don’t wish to be lashed but it is my fault she is here and now that she wears my leash it is my responsibility to protect her. I will accept the whipping if that will satisfy the village."
The chief was silent for a while. Then he said, "It is good that you accept our customs and laws. It is good that you protect the woman you have brought to your leash. You are a good man and we will lash you in her place."
The chief stood up signifying the end to the meeting and motioned me to follow him outside. Once outside he gave directions to the two men. I was having second thoughts as they lashed my hands together and tied me to a nearby tree. As they did this I realized that I was doing the right thing. No matter how hard it was going to be I was in better shape to survive it than Barbara. Still I can’t say that I wasn’t scared.
Once I was tied to the tree the chief made a brief speech or announcement to the crowd. I couldn’t understand more than a word or two of the native language but I gathered he was explaining what I had said. Then he finished and must have made some sign to the whip wielder because the first stroke fell across my back. I managed to keep from screaming but the pain drove a grunt from me. At first I tried to keep track of the strokes but soon the pain overcame all rational thoughts. At some point I heard myself screaming in pain but it sounded faint and far away. Eventually I passed out.
I woke up lying on my face on my cot in our hut. My back felt as though it was on fire. It was early evening and I was aware of someone pouring some sort of lotion onto my back. It seemed to help cool my back but the pain was insistent. I must have moved because Barbara said hold still. This is a lotion Pat made from that aloe sort of plant. She says it will help with the pain. She mixed in some leaves that the villagers said would help heal the wounds.
I was pretty weak but asked how it looked. Barbara knelt near my face and said, "It looks like raw meat. Pat said you may have some permanent scars but she doesn’t think that there was any damage beyond that. Now try to get some sleep."
When I next woke up it was morning and Will was getting ready to check the trap lines. I tried to get up to go with him but I was weak as a kitten. How the hell can having you back whipped take so much out of you that your legs won’t function? In any case he told me to stay in bed. Pat fed me some sort of thin stew or thick soup with a spoon, and applied the lotion or poultice to my back again. I drifted off to sleep again and woke in the early afternoon with an aching bladder and a huge hunger. I refused Pat’s offer of a bottle to use as a chamber pot and managed to get to the latrine and back under my own power. I was eating lunch when I though of Barbara and asked where she was. Apparently she was still tied in the unmarried woman's hut and would be held there until I was strong enough to claim her once again.
I managed to get up again in the afternoon and helped Will feed our specimens. After a good night’s rest I was pretty much back to normal though my back reminded me that it was still healing. I started picking up Barbara and taking he along as we checked out the trap lines but I wasn’t really up to fooling around for another few days.
When I was pretty much healed, with scabs and some scaring instead of open wounds I decided it was time to deal with Barbara’s complaint of inadequate orgasms. My feeling was that foreplay was the answer to intensifying her orgasms but I wanted her held immobile so that she would be focused on the sensations. I needed some props for this so I decided to use the beach just near our camp. It was smaller and not as pretty as the beach further along but it was pretty enough and was well populated by villagers.
First I led her, with her hands bound behind her to the beach and tied her leash to a tree. Barbara found the leash more humiliating than having her hands tied and protested, "I am not a head of cattle. I won’t wander away. Why do you have to tie me to the tree?"
I just smiled at her and walked away without responding. She called after me,"You like having me on a leash you chauvinist pig." I had to smile to myself. It was fun having a gorgeous woman tied and on a leash even if it was only a temporary thing.
I went back to the hut and got a tarp, one of the long bamboo poles we use for carrying the cages and several lengths of rope. Returning to the beach I dropped the pole and the rope while I spread out the tarp. Barbara looked at my preparations with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety though I was pretty certain that she knew by now that I wouldn’t harm her.
I tied a length of rope to each of her elbows letting the loose end from her left arm dangle while the end from the right elbow wrapped around her body and was secured to that elbow which ensured that she couldn’t move her right arm from her side. Then I picked up the pole and fastened it, more or less in the middle behind her back with loops over her shoulder and under her armpits. When I was satisfied that the pole was secure I untied her hands.
Then I raised her left arm and fastened it at the elbow and wrist to the pole. Once her left arm was secure I undid the loop around her body and fastened her right arm to the pole. Now she had both arms stretched out along the pole. I unfastened her leash from the tree and led her onto the tarp. Sex games on the beach are fun but sand tends to get in all the wrong places. I helped her to sit and then lie back on the tarp.
Barbara watched as I pulled off her loincloth. I tied two more ropes around the bottom of her thighs just above he knees. Moving above her head I pulled the ropes up forcing her knees towards her chest. Of course she rolled her hips up to ease the tension. I wasn’t done yet. I used the lines to pull her knees toward her wide spread wrists and then fastened them to the pole. With her knees spread wide and her hips rolled up her pussy was prominently if not obscenely displayed. Of course the pole prevented Barbara from rolling from side to side and with her butt up in the air she had no way to move at all.
I knelt at her head. She was protesting how she had been tied but I silenced her with a kiss. She tried to turn her head away but I grabbed a fist full of her hair and turned her back towards me. Knowing how feisty she was I didn’t risk putting my tongue into her mouth but I did lick her ear and nibble the lobe.
With the hand that wasn’t in her hair I began to fondle her breasts. Now I have said that Barbara wasn’t particularly well endowed, perhaps B cup breasts, and when a woman is on her back her breasts tend to sink into her chest cavity. In this position Barbara’s breasts were just soft mounds on her chest but they were sensitive. Oh my, were they sensitive. I had barely begun playing with her breasts when my tough little love slave moaned. I let go of her hair and used both hands on her breasts. I could feel her nipples growing under my fingers so I began to gently pinch and roll them. More moans. This was fun.
I brought one hand down to cup her groin while I lowered my mouth to her now available breast. Nothing invasive. Well, nothing invasive yet. I just cupped her pussy and massaged it gently with my hand. My other hand kept fondling her other breast and teasing the nipple. I could feel the increasing moistness at her groin and her moans were almost continual now.
This seemed a bit strange. I mean I know I am a good lover. Several partners have told me so. I understand the importance of foreplay in arousing the woman and in cuddling afterwards. Still Barbara was wet very rapidly. I thought back to how wet she had been the day I spanked her and decided that Barbara must get turned on by being tied and controlled. Well, I would certainly test that theory.
In any case, when I felt that she was wet enough I slowly inserted one finger into her pussy and stroked in and out. Barbara was now moaning something like "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod" over and over. And this before I inserted a second finger and began to slowly explore the inside of her canal searching for the oh-so-important G spot.
Barbara jerked as though she had been hit with electricity when I found it. I could feel a very slight difference in texture and proceeded to curl the very tips of my fingers stroking her G spot while fondling one breast and nipple and sucking on the other. Barbara’s moans were becoming higher pitched and unintelligible. Keeping my fingers stroking her G spot I pushed my thumb up between her lips until I encountered the hard nubbin that was her clitoris. At that point she exploded into an orgasm. Her entire body became rigid and her pussy clenched around my fingers, which were now awash in her ejaculation. It turned out that Barbara was a screamer and her shriek turned many heads on the beach.
I let her come down from her orgasm watching her body jerk with aftershocks. When she had more or less recovered she looked at me and said, "Oh my!"
I smiled at her and said, "That’s one." Then I began to stroke her G spot again. I left her breasts alone and moved my mouth to her clitoris. I licked it a few times ignoring her protests.
Barbara was saying something like, "No, I couldn’t take another one. Oh no. Please you will kill me."
Of course that’s nonsense. I don’t think anyone ever died of excessive orgasms. Well at least anyone young and healthy. In any case I ignored her protests and sucked her clit into my mouth. Holding it with my lips and some suction I preceded to lash at it with my tongue. All the while my two fingers were relentlessly stroking her G spot.
Her second orgasm didn’t take long. Her protests changed to "Ohshit, ohshit, ohshit". I wondered where ‘ohmygod’ had gone but didn’t stop for an instant. As before her moans rose in pitch and became less comprehensible. Then she screamed as her orgasm hit her in a rush. This time I didn’t stop to observe. I just kept strumming my fingers on her G spot and lashing her clit in my mouth.
This continued stimulation seemed to prolong her orgasm and her scream trailed off. I continued until her body, overloaded with sensation shut down. She just passed out.
I untied Barbara while she was still unconscious. Just to preserve appearances I crossed her wrist behind her back and tied then again. Then I pulled her to a sitting position. I spread my legs and sat behind her holding her back against my chest. It sounds awkward but was actually a comfortable position. I realized that for the first time in days I didn’t feel my back. It actually seemed normal.
I was sitting there absently fondling her breasts when she came around. Well I said they were small but they were very attractive and well proportioned for her athletic body. Besides, what is the point of having a sex slave if you can’t fondle her breasts?
In any case she awoke and said, "Mmmm, that feels nice."
"Did you enjoy your orgasm?" I teased.
She turned her head and kissed my neck. Suddenly she seemed all shy as she said. "I never... thank you."
I laughed and said, "What, you mean all it takes to tame this tiger is a couple of orgasms?"
Barbara said, "No, I wasn’t talking about that. Thank you for saving me from that whipping. That was pretty heroic of you master."
There was no sarcasm in her voice now and I was embarrassed. I said something like "I am no hero. Had I known how bad it was I don’t know if I could have done it."
She shifted slightly against me and said, "But you did."
We talked quite a bit that afternoon. I learned that Barb, as I began calling her, was the daughter of a very wealthy beer baron who had indulged his children with money while indulging himself with a series of trophy wives. She had, in her words, been a spoiled rich brat who played with the jet set and depended on daddy’s money to get her out of trouble. When she had gotten bored with that she got into dangerous sports like auto racing and single-handed ocean racing. She sounded regretful and I told her perhaps she was growing up.
She turned the conversation to me and I found myself telling her all about service life, which surprised me. I don’t usually talk about that stuff. I talked about school and my ambitions and how I had wound up on this island rescuing beautiful maidens from whippings.
She laughed and said, "I am no maiden, but thank you for the rescue anyhow. I thought you didn’t like them and felt they were too small."
This last was said with a nod towards her chest and I realized that while we had spent the last couple of hours talking I had been playing gently with her chest. I replied, "No, they are just right. They fit your body perfectly."
That may not have made much sense but Barbara apparently understood. She said, "I thought of having a boob job. They can put in inserts and make them bigger."
"Don’t you dare. These are just perfect. They are as beautiful as the rest of you. It would be a crime to ruin that body with inserts. If you even think of doing that I... I will spank the notion out of you."
She chuckled. Barbara doesn’t giggle; she always chuckles with a deep throaty sound that is very arousing. All she said was, "Yes master." She must have felt my reaction to her chuckle because after a couple of seconds she said "This masturbation thing is supposed to be mutual isn’t it?"
I said yes and she leaned forward lifting her bound hands to open the belt that held my loincloth in place. She deftly opened the belt and I was sitting nude behind her. She grasped my penis and began to caress it. I don’t understand how, but I would swear her fingers were cool on me. I think I squeaked something like, "You don’t have to do that."
She let her hands drift down to cup and stroke my testicles and just said, "Shh, relax and enjoy it master."
So I did. Barbara was very good at this even working with her hands bound behind her. When she had brought me to the point where I was about to ejaculate she clamped down on the base of my prick to hold me back a bit longer, while constantly massaging my testicles with her other hand. I was so close that I started to reach down but she gently squeezed my balls as a warning and I returned my hands to her breasts. Then she finished the job.
Now I know a hand job isn’t the same as sex but this was pretty damn good. I don’t honestly know if it was her skill or the fact that I hadn’t even masturbated for several days. During that time I had watched various nubile native maidens bouncing (and, male chauvinist that Barbara accused me of being, I use that word advisedly) up and down the beach. Or perhaps It was that I had spent considerable time in what might be considered heavy petting with Barbara. In any case, I don’t know if it was because I was horny or because Barbara was so very skilled but this was very damn good.
As I sighed Barbara impishly inquired, "Is master feeling a bit better now?"
I replied, "Master is feeling drained right now. You are a very skillful woman, you wench."
We were getting close to the end of our stay and it was time to start packing our gear. The boat ought to appear in the next day or so. That morning Will and I picked up the traps and snares and brought them back to camp. The rest of the morning was spent cleaning, oiling, greasing and packing our gear so it would be ready for next year’s expedition. After lunch I retied Barbara’s hands in front of her. Then I led her outside and had her lie down and tied her hands up above her head. Taking two other lengths of rope I tied one to each ankle and then stretched her feet up and to the side so that she was lying more or less on her upper back and shoulders. As it had been yesterday her pussy was pointed up and spread open.
I left her there and went back into the hut where I grabbed a small nail scissors, my razor with a fresh blade (electric razors don’t do much on a primitive island with no electricity) and a can of shaving cream. I set these down near Barbara’s head so that she could see them and figure out what was going to happen. Then I went off to fill a bucket with water. When I came back and picked up the scissors she said, "What kind of a pervert are you. Are you turned on by pre-pubescent little girls?"
"No tiger, I am turned off by pubic hair in my teeth," I responded.
She thought about that for a bit and then said, "Well if yesterday was anything to go by I guess it’s a pretty reasonable trade off."
I had finished cutting as much hair as I could so I wet her groin a bit and then covered it with shaving foam. I warned her, "Hold still now." And got busy with the razor. When I was done I used the water to massage off any stray bits of foam. Actually I may have gotten a bit carried away because Barbara was beginning to moan. I stopped massaging and lowered my mouth to her groin. It was fresh and clean and very tasty and yes, I managed to wring a healthy orgasm from her.
She didn’t pass out this time and when I stood up to loosen her legs she asked, "Why do you call me tiger?"
I paused for a moment to phrase how I wanted to answer that. I was absent mindedly massaging her foot when I answered, "Because you are sleek and sensuous and very graceful when you move. Very much like a big cat. But under all that lovely skin I can see muscles and tendons ripple the surface and I know how strong and feisty you are. It is really quite marvelous to see, especially when you are straining against my ropes. Of course while that’s lovely you are at you most beautiful when I make you cum. You can’t believe how great I feel to know I have had a part in creating that beauty."
Barbara looked at me strangely and then changed the subject. "Are you going to fuck me?"
"I would rather make love to you and intercourse is only one part of that. But I am afraid it is up to the natives and the boat schedule. You know if we have intercourse before the marriage ceremony the natives will kill us both. I asked Pat and Will how long the courtship period went on. They didn’t know exactly, but said it was generally a couple of weeks. We are nearly there now so if the boat doesn’t show up for a few days we may be able to."
Then she asked me, "Do you want to?"
I smiled at her and answered, "As far as what I want, I hope the damn boat sinks."
Barbara smiled and chuckled that deep throaty, oh so sexy, chuckle of hers. I untied her legs and let her down. Then I untied her hands from the tree. Her back was covered in dirt (I guess she might have worked up a sweat while I was eating her) so I grabbed a bar of soap and told Barbara we would be going for a fresh water shower. She was delighted with the idea.
We followed a stream inland to a pool under a waterfall. Several of the natives were there splashing about in the water. They smiled and waved as I led Barbara to some flat rocks directly under the waterfall. The water was cool but not really cold and wonderfully refreshing. Since Barbara still had her hands tied, I washed her wet body with the soap working up a good lather. Some parts seemed to require more attention than others. After I rinsed her under the falls, I lathered her hair. I don’t know why washing her scalp and hair felt erotic but it did. She had cut her hair for her voyage but between the time at sea and her weeks on the island her hair had grown out to just below her shoulders.
When I had finished with her I began to soap myself when she interrupted by saying, "Let me do that master."
"How?" I asked.
"Work up a lather on my breasts," she replied.
I must have been a bit dense as I really didn’t understand what she wanted to do but never shy about running my hands over her breasts I complied. Then she began to rub her breasts over my body. I have to tell you that this is THE way to be washed. The feeling of those soapy breasts rubbing over every inch of my body was incredible. When she finished with my torso she squatted down and did my legs. I was awe struck watching this sexy woman slide up and down.
When she had finished soaping me she gently used her forehead to push me back under the water fall. I thought this incredible experience was over but as I stepped forward again Barbara, still on her knees, took me into her mouth. I don’t know where she went to school but she must have majored in cock sucking and minored in blow jobs. She used her tongue in ways I had never dreamed about, circling it around the sensitive skin just under my glans. Then she withdrew leaving me bobbing in the air and sucked my testicles into her mouth. Having treated those orbs she then decided to play lollipop with my penis using her tongue in long languid strokes before swallowing me into her mouth again.
I kind of lost track of what was happening after that, but I do remember that when I tried to warn her that I was about to come she refused to let me withdraw and that after I had shot my load into her mouth she kept my penis in her mouth licking and sucking until it was once again hard. Then she proceeded to drain every drop of fluid from my body sucking it through my testicles and out through my penis. I do remember collapsing; weak kneed, at some point and her still sucking as I lay there totally drained, a helpless husk of a man on the flat rocks.
Only when she had completely drained the life from my body did she remove her mouth from my groin and smile down at me. She said disingenuously, "I think master is all clean now." I couldn’t find the energy to respond but I am certain that my expression told her everything she needed to know.
After I had recovered sufficiently to move, we splashed about in the pool and then sat on some rocks to one side while we dried off. We talked some more and learned more about each other. Nothing consequential, just learning more about the other person.
I was up with the sunrise and left Pat and Will working on last minute inventories as I walked up the path to the women’s hut to collect Barbara for the day. When I got there, however I saw that she was being bound to a frame in a loose spread eagle. There was a second frame about 8 or 10 feet in front of her.
I was puzzled for a moment and then realized that this signified the start of the marriage ceremony. I don’t know if her performance at the waterfall was a factor in the village deciding that we were ready or if the elders had just decided that we seemed compatible. In any case, today was apparently the day.
Sure enough two men pushed me over to the second frame and tied my hands to the upper corners. Similarly my legs were tied to the lower corners and I found myself in a relaxed face up spread eagle. Unlike Barbara’s frame, which was just an open frame, I was at an angle. In fact, I was actually lying on a network of straps. It was quite comfortable and supportive and I realized that I was in the position to be ‘taken’ by my bride.
Off to one side a large hollow water container was being filled. I had seen this used before as a sort of primitive hour glass. The water flowed out through a very tiny hole and would indicate the end of the six hours of sexual arousal when the container was empty.
The younger married women took over this part of the ceremony. First they removed Barbara’s loin cloth. Her shaved pubes excited some ‘Ohs’ and ‘Ahs’ and my beautiful bride to be blushed several shades of red, despite her island tan, as she realized the focus of the native’s attention. One of the more attractive wives came over to me and removed my loincloth. She managed to rub her body against mine and to fondle my testicles as she did so. I hadn’t heard that this was part of the ceremony but it did have me in a state of semi-arousal as she discarded my loin cloth.
I can’t remember every detail of the next six hours but watching Barbara strain and moan and writhe under their hands was the most erotic thing I have ever experienced and I was hard and needy throughout. In fact I was so hard my groin ached. I do remember that they started by running a finger tip down Barbara’s inner arm and along side her chest to circle the bottom of her breast. Barbara heaved and moaned at this and I remember thinking that I had never thought of the underarm as an erogenous zone. See, you live and learn.
Learning experience aside, I saw all of the techniques and zones that I knew about exercised fully. At various times I saw women massage her breasts, roll her nipples, even stretch them from her chest, and then suckle on those same nipples. I saw them play with Barbara’s thigh, her labia and with her ass. I think I saw them spread her ass cheeks and tease her anus with a slim wooden shaft, sort of a primitive dildo. I know I saw them insert fingers into Barbara’s vagina and play with her clitoris.
They used their hands, their mouths, the smooth wooden dildo, strips of fur and what appeared to be the proverbial velvet glove. Throughout all of this Barbara moaned and groaned and her body writhed in sexual arousal in front of me. I wanted her so badly that I strained against my bonds but, of course, to no avail.
At one point one of the women had a flogger. At first I thought it was that damn cat of nine tails and I was going to shout something. I guess the women in the tribe were smarter than I was. Two of them circled around behind me. One held her hand over my mouth and with her other hand grabbed my hair forcing me to watch, The other was fondling my testicles but when I struggled gave a little warning squeeze to remind me to watch my manners.
In any case, it turned out not to be the cat but a soft leather flogger. They flogged every bit of Barbara from neck to knees with particular attention to her breasts and then about the same area on her back. There were no welts raised; just a reddening of her skin which must have become even more sensitive to the touch. As I watched the strokes fall I saw Barbara twist and writhe but realized that it wasn’t from pain but just a further step in her arousal.
Eventually the six hours were up and they released Barbara. There was a bit of language difficulty when they asked Barbara if she wanted me but pantomime with a knife at her leather collar made it all clear. Barbara gently pushed away the arm with the knife and turned toward me.
I had expected that after six hours of sexual arousal she would simply hurry over and jump my bones. I had, as men so often do, underestimated this beautiful woman. We were only a few yards apart and I could clearly see the predatory look on her face as she walked, no, as she stalked towards me. Her strength and grace were apparent in every movement and I was reminded of the grace and beauty of a big jungle cat stalking its prey. I had looked forward to this for six hours (and, in truth, had hoped for this for almost two weeks) but felt a momentary panic as this powerful animal stalked me like a goat tied down as bait. And I was the goat.
As Barbara stalked toward me I couldn’t help but admire that perfect body. Perfect? Yes I think it was perfect because it was perfect for her. I couldn’t imagine her any other way. Yes, yes, I know I have said that her breasts were on the small side, but they were so perfectly shaped and so suited to her that I found them to be extraordinarily attractive. No, muscular as she was, that was Barbara and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. She was simply perfect.
I don’t know what showed on my face but as Barbara reached me she chuckled, that deep incredibly sexy chuckle of hers, and said "Now you are in my ropes, master." She grabbed the webbing on which my body rested and slowly pulled herself up to me. My penis was rigid and was pressed between our abdomens. I could feel her sweat slick body sliding over me as she pulled herself up. The she grasped my head in both of her hands. The look in her eyes was positively feral. At that moment I knew she had captured me and that I was totally hers.
I thought she was going to kiss me but instead she used her tongue to swipe over my face, enhancing her image as a predatory cat. I felt her body lift off me and one hand dip between us to position me at her entrance. Then she slowly slid down enveloping me in her hot wet core. Barbara was no virgin but she was incredibly tight and hot and wet. I felt as though I were being sucked into a cauldron of molten lava that some how didn’t burn but pleasured.
I groaned. It was so delicious. Barbara slipped a hand behind my ass, reached down and grabbed my testicles. She gently but authoritatively pulled them saying "Not yet, master! Not yet!"
There was no real pain but the pull was enough you distract me from my pending orgasm which receded a step or two. Barbara was looking into my eyes. Hell! She was looking into my soul. When she saw that I had regained some control she began to lift and lower her body on me. Twice more she had to pause to hold back my impending orgasm. I confess that I briefly wondered if she would manage to remember to let go when her own orgasm hit, but I needn’t have worried. With all of her arousal it didn’t take long before she was panting and slamming our groins together faster and faster. She released my testicles and brought both hands to my head. As she came she kissed me with more force and passion that I would have thought possible.
Of course that was it for me. With her mouth and tongue raping mine, and her pussy pulsing in orgasm around me, I came. It was like no orgasm I had ever had in my life. There was a strange roaring in my head and I poured what must have been quarts of semen into her in spout after spout.
When I came back to earth I saw Barbara’s face above me. She looked satiated and perhaps just a little bit smug. I think I must have had a satiated look as well. We were both panting from the exertion. I felt her firm breasts and hard pointed nipples against my chest as we both gasped for air.
Then I heard it again -- that strange roaring sound. I think we both realized what it was at the same moment. It was the ship that had come to pick up the expedition blowing its whistle to summon us to the beach.
Barbara remained pressed against me as she began working on the ropes holding my wrists. Once my wrists were free she slid down to the ground to free my ankles. It was almost as sensuous as when she had slid over me on the way up and I was surprised to feel my cock twitch. "Behave!" Barbara said as she pushed my penis out of her face and went to work on the ankle ropes.
Once free we bowed to the assembled and mostly cheering wedding guests and ran, hand in hand, toward our camp. When we got there we found Will and Pat busy hauling equipment toward the beach. "Where the hell did you get off to?" Pat inquired crossly. Then she looked up and saw the silly grins we were both wearing. "Oh!"
When we got down to the beach we began to load the motor launch. It had taken seven trips to bring our gear ashore but that had been with empty cages and plant pots. Now with all of the specimens, and the additional passenger of course, it would take at least a dozen trips. Barbara and Pat went over to the ship with the first boat load. Pat wanted introduce Barbara to the ship’s captain and then to supervise the stowage of the specimens. Barbara wanted to get a radio message off to her family in Australia and let them know that she was alive and well.
I was working on loading the tenth or eleventh load (Will had gone out to the ship once we had begun shipping the animals over.) when I heard the ‘whump... whump... whump’ of a helicopter. A large French Search and Rescue copter flew over the ship. They didn’t land but lowered a wire basket to the deck and I saw a denim clad figure climb in. The helicopter hauled up the basket and tilted in the direction of Tahiti and sped off toward the horizon.
Of course that was Barbara. I guess I hadn’t known of her ocean racing fame nor had I realized just how wealthy and influential her family was. As the captain explained to us at dinner after we had sailed, Barbara’s surfacing weeks after she had been declared missing and presumed dead was news world wide. The French authorities, wanting to demonstrate the efficiency of their rescue services (well, the French need something to be proud of), had sent out a long range chopper and ‘rescued’ her from the two day steam ship trip back to Tahiti.
The ships radio picked up the BBC world service (a news broadcast) and after watering the animals and plants I was able to listen. I heard the story of how she had washed up on a remote island populated by fierce natives and had been rescued by the Clark expedition which was on the island studying the flora and fauna. I heard how the French authorities threw a gala reception for the ‘intrepid heroine’ who braved the ocean’s fury. I also heard how the usual passport and visa formalities were gallantly waived when her father’s private jet arrived to whisk her back to Australia and the arms of her family.
I don’t know why it bothered me so much that I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. After all, it’s not like we had talked of continuing to see each other in the real world. Ha! Make that real worlds. She was flying around on private jets and living in her world of money and power. I was fortunate to have earned $3,000 to supplement next year’s school costs.
Hey, what did I expect? Sure, she had been good company while we were both isolated on a remote island. Back in the real world we both lived very different lives. There was no way I could give her what she was used to. She was back where she belonged and I was happy for her. I had some great memories, far beyond any expectations I might have had at the beginning of the summer. Still, I did miss talking with her and I couldn’t quite forget how she looked when she chuckled that deep sexy chuckle of hers.
Barbara was old news by the time we docked. In modern journalism miraculous rescues and family reunions don’t hold up to violence in the mid east or natural disasters in the orient or civil wars in Africa. We unloaded the specimens and our gear and trucked it all to the airport. Will and Pat arranged cargo space on a pressurized cargo jet and we would load and depart the next morning.
We checked into a hotel. Pat and Will were going to celebrate their last night abroad by going into town for dinner. They invited me to join them but I was tired after a long day of work and didn’t really feel like celebrating. That, and I sort of felt like a third wheel. In the end, I begged off and had a bite to eat in the hotel before heading up to my room. I tried the TV in my room but all that they seemed to have were old movies and situation comedy reruns, both badly dubbed in French. I did catch CNN and watch the news for about an hour. By eight I was fed up and, as I was undressing for bed, there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was the maid, who had come to turn down the bed, I opened the door to tell her not to bother.
I was struck dumb. There in the open doorway was a beautiful vision. It was Barbara, with her hair cut and styled, dressed in an expensive looking blouse and skirt. It was, you must remember, the first time I had seen her other than nude or in a loin cloth. I thought I must be hallucinating. We stood there for what must have been several minutes. Finally she asked, "May I come in?"
Proving myself a brilliant conversationalist I said, "I thought you were in Australia."
Barbara pushed past me saying, "I was. I had to go back and let my daddy and brothers see that I was really all right. I told them the story with all of the strange twists and turns and the weird island customs. Then I had a long heart to heart with daddy. In the end he indulged me and let me use his plane to come back."
I think I managed to state the obvious and said something brilliant like, "You came back."
Barbara chuckled at my obviously confused state of mind and said, "I had to. The ceremony isn’t complete until the man ties the woman to his bed and asserts his mastery over her."
I think the chuckle was what woke me up. It was that deep throaty sexy sound that I suddenly realized I had missed for the past several days. Even so I was a bit amazed that she had come back to be with me. I asked "You mean you want to..."
She interrupted me and asked, "Do you?"
Fortunately by that time my mind was back to normal or at least normal for me, and I didn’t hesitate to state, "More than anything else in the world."
Barbara smiled that predatory smile of hers and handed me a paper shopping bag that I hadn’t noticed her carrying. I dumped it out on the bed and found four fleece lined cuffs with locking buckles and D rings and four lengths of rope. I turned back to Barbara and saw that she was unbuttoning her blouse.
"Stop! I want to undress you," I said. Evidently this was the right thing to say because her smile became brighter as I approached her. Now I am no great womanizer but I had undressed women before. I took off her blouse and skirt with many soft kisses to each bit of flesh as it was revealed. She was so beautiful.
With her outer garments removed Barbara stood in a silky looking blue bra and panty set. Blue! In a story she would have been wearing black or red lace underwear, or perhaps even virginal white. But not my tiger. She was just full of delightful surprises and had traveled thousand of mile to seduce (as if any was needed) her master in blue. She was unique in every way. With Barbara what you saw was what you got. No artifice, no special coloration. It was just so right I couldn’t imagine her any other way.
I undid her bra and paid homage to those perfect breasts. I elicited a moan from her and then she said, "You have to tie me to your bed."
Well. She was right of course. It was a part of the traditional ceremony. Still, it is never a good idea to allow your love slave to get too uppity. I swatted her panty clad behind and said, "I’ll have no topping from the bottom. I will decide what to do and when and you will submit or I will paddle your ass."
I don’t know what reaction I had expected but it certainly wasn’t the "Oh, Goody" that I got.
I threw my head back and laughed. Then looking at Barbara I said, "I am going to have my hands full with you, aren’t I?"
She chuckled that sensual chuckle of hers and responded, "I certainly hope so master."
Then, not being a fool I did exactly what my lovely partner wanted and tied her to the bed, having removed her panties first. With four cuffs I did what came to mind first and fastened a cuff to each wrist and each ankle. Having lifted her groin and placed a pillow under her ass I tied each rope off to a leg of the bed and then through the D ring on her cuffs.
Once I had her fastened in a secure but comfortable spread eagle I approached her. But my beautiful submissive had one more surprise in store for me. As I had applied the ropes she twisted and writhed erotically on the bed. Now that I approached, however, she begged, "Tighter master, please."
What would you do? I know what I did. I had been concerned at hurting Barbara but she was no delicate flower that would wither and break. This was a strong woman, willing to submit too me, but who demanded that I dominate her truly. I loosened each rope, one at a time and heaved through the D ring before fastening it again. Now I am no marvel of strength but I am in pretty good shape and several months of hauling water for the plants and animals had toned me over the summer.
When I was done Barbara was no longer writhing. She was tightly stretched. In fact I considered asking if it was too tight. I didn’t when I saw the look on her face. She was radiantly happy. I glanced down at her groin and saw that she had become aroused simply from the pull of the ropes.
Well, time to reassert authority. She might have thought she was ready for intercourse but I thought there were just a few things to do first. Remembering the morning of our ceremony I ran the tip of my fingers down from her wrist along the inside of her arm to the side of her breast slowly circling until I reached her nipple. Then I kissed her nipple and gripped it with my lips. Barbara moaned and said, "Damn it, I need you in me. NOW!"
I smiled and walked around the bed to repeat the gentle touch on the other side and said, "That is for your master to decide."
After playing with her other breast, I crawled onto the bed and began to kiss her inner thighs. When I got to her groin I used my tongue in her pussy licking up the juices that she was generating so copiously. After a bit I moved up to her clit and began lapping at it bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. When she appeared to be just at the edge I began to flick at her clit rapidly she exploded beneath me. Well she couldn’t actually move much but her body sort of stiffened and quivered. She shrieked. I smiled and watched as the aftershocks coursed through her body. I told her, "You are so beautiful when you come."
Barbara asked plaintively, "Does master intend to torment me for six hours?"
I laughed and said, "Master can’t resist you for six minutes." Then I rubbed my penis over her slit a couple of times to ensure that it was well lubricated and slid into her. In truth I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hold out long enough to give her an orgasm from intercourse.
I had forgotten Barbara’s well developed control of the muscles in and around her groin. Each time I withdrew she clamped tight onto me holding me in her. When I reversed she relaxed and let me drop faster and harder than I intended. As a result our pubic bones were smashing together which must have given enough pressure on her clit to bring her along.
We developed a rhythm and I realized that she was matching me stroke for stroke. She couldn’t move much, stretched as tightly as she was but the steady clenching and un-clenching made our intercourse a joint activity. Gradually our mutual pleasure built until she reached orgasm. At that point she lost all control and her pussy was spasming around me. I couldn’t hold out any longer and I came. No boat whistles, but I think it was even better that the first time.
For a moment or two I collapsed onto her. Then I got my arms onto the bed and lifted my weight off her. She looked very content and smiled at me saying, "Now you are my master."
I smiled back and said, "Yes, because your master is as much yours as you are his."