Slave Island Read online

  He loved the sound of his own voice, and he felt himself the supreme master of the world as he saw Tanya's face turn hopelessly from side to side, bathed in tears, the sensitive nostrils quivering, and saw the magnificent lines of her bubbies turbulently rise and fall in her abhorrence of him. He was sure she was virgin without making the test, but for certain he was going to shame the little bitch in front of her aunt and her sister by poking his finger against her cherry, and he would do the same with Olga.

  "Yes," he continued gloatingly, "even if you have fucked, I don't think Your Highness has ever really had a prick in your mouth. That's a rather vulgar object. Aristocrats are shocked by vulgarity. So your first lesson in playing house, little Tanya, is going to be in how to French your master."

  "You filthy wretch, take me instead of her!" Olga suddenly burst out. "I swear I'll be her substitute, Tenkovich!"

  He rose to his feet. The offer was really exciting, and of course, after he had taken Olga, he could always tie her up again and proceed to fuck and bugger Tanya.

  It was all very sweet. All of this was his vengeance, his rightful due. But just then, seemingly out of nowhere, two massive men emerged into the clearing, and with them was a supercilious man in shorts and sandals, with a revolver in hand-Lord Henry Philbrock.

  "A moment, my good man," the last-named suavely interposed, aiming his revolver at the steward's heart. "These women are my slaves, not yours. This is , and everything on it is mine."

  "No one shall cheat me of my vengeance! You Don't know what they've done to me-they and their damned family! No, I wont be cheated, I won't, I-" Ivan was screaming beside himself. He leaped forward. A shot rang out. He stopped dead, his eyes rolling, fixing on Olga, then back to Tanya. Then he fell forward, lifeless. He had what vengeance was due him.

  But the two women he had brought to would not be neglected by their new master.

  CHAPTER TEN - JOHN GRANVILLE

  John Granville had abandoned his life raft and instead taken the life preserver, which he had put around his middle, believing that he would have a far better chance of survival if he tried to make the distant shore than if he sat in a rubber raft and waited for a ship to pick him up. He still couldn't understand how such a catastrophe had occurred, but the main thing was to stay alive. Fortune was with him because the sharks, which took a merciless toll on many of the screaming survivors in the water, were apparently wary of this threshing creature who made his way beyond them without fear. So at last he dragged himself up on the sandy cove opposite from where the Russian steward had brought his three intended victims; and he arrived there nearly an hour after Betty and the other captives from the first life boat had been led back to the cyclopean, almost unbelievably immense building where the rulers of were housed, and where chambers were devised for the indescribably lustful, despotic, titillating exploitation of their slaves, who also lived there and did things.

  No sooner had he got to his feet and looked around for any sight of the others from the Anastasia when two men emerged from the clump of palm trees beyond him with Lord Henry Philbrock at the head.

  "There is no one else with you?" Philbrock demanded. Then he took a step or two forward, frowning, put his free hand to his forehead and frowned still more. "The devil take me, but I seem to recognize you! Now how is it possible that we have met?"

  John Granville took a deep breath and stared at his interlocutor. "You look familiar to me too, but I'll be damned if I can place you," he ruefully admitted.

  "It was years ago, of that I'm sure," Philbrock went on as if he were reminiscing aloud. "And I'm almost sure it was in San Francisco-wait a minute! Do you remember an Englishman about a dozen years ago down at the wharf inquiring about chartering a ship? As I recall, you were bound for the Orient yourself and your sailing had been delayed, and we stopped and exchanged a few words. And then I gave you an excellent Indian cheroot and we got to talking."

  "Yes, by God, I do! Ah, you've changed a little. I remember that cheroot, though," John Granville grinned. "It was strong and good, and I haven't had another one like it since."

  Lord Henry Philbrock turned to his two retainers and smilingly nodded. "No need to worry about this one, Sam, Tom. You go after the others who may yet land here. We've taken three boatloads already of women and girls."

  "Thank God, Betty is safe!" John Granville said with a sigh of relief.

  "Betty? Your wife?"

  "My daughter. My wife. Diane, died three months ago. We were on the Anastasia so that both of us could try to forget our loss. And then this."

  "I grieve with you for your wife. And your name-the deuce, but my memory is really slipping. However, you must forgive me, it's been a most energetic night," Lord Henry Philbrock smiled.

  "I am John Granville."

  "And I, Lord Henry Philbrock," said the other, extending his hand which John Granville warmly shook. "I regret that I've inconvenienced you, then. But of course I had no way of knowing who would be on that ship."

  "You inconvenienced me? I don't quite understand," the perplexed San Franciscan parried.

  "Come along with me and we'll go back to my quarters. Granville, I can promise you all the cheroots you can smoke, and, of course, you're my guest. A lucky thing I recognized you, though."

  "This is more and more mysterious. What in heaven's name are you doing on a godforsaken little island like this, and why do you say that you inconvenienced me?"

  They had ascended the slope of the little hill, and the ruler of pointed ahead to the outline of that incredible building, then turned back to Granville. "Look and see for yourself. It's not quite so forsaken as you might believe, although God has nothing to do with it."

  "Good Lord! It's immense-how could you ever have transported all the materials here?"

  "By a chartered ship, which I later purchased. By many trips, by the help of others who share with me the dream of sexual mastery and slavery. All those who were saved from the shipwreck by landing here are, of course, my subjects now, and will be divided among the other masters and mistresses by stipulated auction or lottery."

  "But-but do you mean to tell me that you actually think you can keep people against their will and enslave them? That's not possible in this century!"

  "You will see you are quite wrong, once I have made you comfortable in my private chambers. And, of course, your Betty will be reunited with you. But the rest are certainly my slaves. That is why this is called . And I will tell you frankly that if I had not been satisfied with your explanation about yourself, or if I thought you had no money to ransom yourself, you would at this moment be dead, food for the sharks that populate our waters and are better policemen than any human we could hire," Lord Philbrock rejoined with a mocking little laugh.

  And as he and his retainers accompanied John Granville back to the unbelievable edifice that appeared beyond the crest of that hill on this flyspeck in the vast Pacific, the master of this feudal domain quickly explained how it had all come about.

  John Granville was given an ornately furnished chamber and Philbrock asked, "Shall I send a slave to you to share your bed?"

  John Granville hesitated. The death of his beautiful wife Diane had robbed him of an incomparable bed partner. In view of his miraculous escape from death, he had a sudden zest for life; and that was why, flushing slightly, he nodded.

  "You shall have two girls to bathe you and refresh you, and one who is accomplished in the art of fucking. Enjoy my hospitality as my honored guest, John Granville. I shall not disturb you until late in the afternoon, for you will need your rest."

  "And my daughter?"

  "No harm will come to her. You have my word on it. However, I must tell you that although I was the founder of this island paradise, it was really erected through the great aid of my dear friend Magala Khan, who furnished men from his province in India to aid in the arduous work of building this magnificent realm, constructing the remarkable arena I know you will enjoy as a
connoisseur of exciting sport. Also there is a beautiful woman from Paris, Elvire de St. Cyr, as well as Marjorie Sayers, who hold sway equal to the other two of us."

  "So has four sovereigns, then?" John Granville smiled.

  "In a sense, yes. It would not be fair to make this domain for the sole pleasure of men; and we must always remember that, though woman was the vehicle whereby sin entered into this world, it was through a woman that the redemption of this world was made flesh. And of course, not everyone with whom one wishes to associate is heterosexual, eh?" He winked.

  "But there is a fifth authority here: Herr Bernard Kagan, our inventor. He, too, is an exile, like myself. His own government discredited him and tried to rob him of a valuable invention. They would have imprisoned him on a false charge of negligently manufacturing obscene bicycles equipped with dangerously defective derailleur mechanisms, had I not aided him with the help of some of my German contacts. Thus it is that he, in reality, casts the deciding vote if the other four of us can't come to agreement on the disposition of one slave or another.

  "Herr Kagan is a very great genius," Lord Philbrock said, as his face took on a much more serious appearance. "The nation which controls magnetism," he intoned solemnly, "will control the universe.

  "But enough now of talk. All the survivors of the Anastasia are safely housed for the rest of the night, so relax and enjoy your stay with me."

  And with this Lord Henry Philbrock shook hands again and went down the corridor to find his own quarters. John Granville turned wonderingly back to his own room. There was a salon such as one would have for receiving guests. Then an enormous bedroom, the walls and ceiling completely mirrored, and an imposing double bed, large enough so that four people could sleep comfortable.. .and fuck as easily! A bathroom of black and white marble with a sunken tub, and a solid ivory bench on which one might stretch for a massage or rub-down. To find such luxuries here, which would rival those of villas owned by millionaires or the most lavish international hotels, was almost unthinkable. And in such a place as this, which had no other name save that which Lord Philbrock had given it: .

  His musings were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and he opened it quickly, then stepped back with widening eyes. Two charming young girls had entered and now knelt before him and bowed their heads in unison. They wore only diaphanous tunics, which extended from the valley of their breasts down just past their cunts, and they were naked under those tunics, wearing only sandals. One was black-haired, slim, with saucy and impertinent features, and a small ripe mouth that spoke of her expertness in Frenching. Her companion was auburn-haired, with a sultry, pouting and sensual face, surprisingly large upstanding breasts set closely together, and a voluptuous backside that would rouse the passions of a flagellant or ass-fucker to the highest pitch. Her skin was creamy with rosy flecks, whereas the brunette's was the color of pale milk.

  "May we undress and bathe you, master?" the auburn-haired girl humbly requested in a husky provocative tone that set John Granville's pulse to throbbing. He could only nod and stare admiringly.

  Swiftly they both undressed him, and then each took him by a hand and led him to the bath where they made him lie down upon the ivory bench. While the auburn-haired girl ran the water and tested the temperature by kicking off her sandals and dipping one dainty bare foot into the tub, the brunette took a vial of greenish liquid, and, kneeling down beside him, began to rub his body from head to foot. She was an artist with her long slim fingers, and her delicate touch made his prick stiffen from the very first. By the time she had neared his inner thighs with her sensitive fingertips, he was in violent erection, and the tip of his cock was puckering violently with the urge to spurt.

  "May your humble slave make a suggestion, master?" the brunette now timidly inquired; her voice was sweet and clear and shy, like that of a girl who had been well trained-as indeed she and all those like her who served the five reigning powers of this island and their honored guests had been. The lash and many other even more painful ordeals had taught these charming slave girls the most pronounced docility, conquered their aversions. And their nationalities and backgrounds might well have read like a global catalog; the auburn-haired girl, who was named Irene, had been born in Syria, while the brunette, whose name was Claire, had been born in New York City. Both of them had come to by the agency of the magnetic reef, and one day would go elsewhere at the whim of their owners if there was profit or advantage to be gained from their disposal.

  "By all means, my pretty one," John Granville said hoarsely.

  "Lord Philbrock is going to send you a very beautiful girl to share your bed, master," Claire went on, "but seeing how excited you are and how big your mighty cock is at this very moment, in my humble opinion, you would have much enjoyment from her if you would permit Irene or me to suck you off. You see master, the first time a man fits his cock into the pussy of a girl, he cannot always control himself. But if the excessive spunk is drained off first before he fucks, then he can go on for a long while and really have his pleasure."

  "A capital idea, you sweet creature! And since you suggested it, you may carry out the idea at once," John Granville laughingly agreed.

  Pillowing his head on his arms, and closing his eyes, he surrendered himself to the blandishments of this delicious brunette. She bent over him from the left, her fingertips stroking his belly and his hip and thigh, and the soft moist edges of her lips just brushed the tip of his prong. He ground his teeth at the sudden fiery wave of lust shooting through his prick and balls from that delicious caress.

  The auburn-haired Irene was not idle, either. Quickly she knelt beside his head, and bowing hers, began to suck and to lick each of his paps in turn with the tip of her dainty pink tongue. The erotic stimulation of having two such lovely and practically naked girls "prepare" him for his fucking partner made John Granville savagely virile. It seemed to him that his prick had never been so hard nor so swollen with spunk, because he was finally forgetting his long-enforced abstinence after Diane's death.

  Therefore it did not take long before, with a cry, he felt himself explode and all his gism shoot into Claire s soft mouth. Expertly she swallowed every drop, and then licked his cock clean.

  "The bath is ready now, master," she said as soon as she had finished her amorous task.

  They led him down the stairs into the tub, doffing their tunics and entering the water with him. While Irene soaped him, Claire rinsed, fondling his armpits with her soft fingertips, till he was not only marvelously relaxed but also aroused again.

  Once again he lay down upon the ivory bench while they patted and dried him with huge Turkish towels. Then Claire anointed his body with more of that curious greenish liquid which made his nerves tingle and his flesh twitch. And then bowing their heads in obeisance, they silently left the room.

  Naked and at his ease, completely relaxed and the nightmarish ordeal of the shipwreck almost forgotten, John Granville returned to the bedroom, and there found a breathtakingly beautiful slave awaiting him, she having entered when Claire and Irene had left his chambers.

  She was tall and willowy, with light brown hair that fell in thick curls almost to the small of her back, and was naked except for a wispy loincloth made of black silk and a brassiere of black net which covered only the lower halves of her high-set, uptilting, ripe, quince-shaped breasts. She was perhaps twenty-nine, and her body was sinuous and enticing, her face oval with fine high cheekbones and eyes that were slightly almond-shaped. She knelt before him and bowed her head to the floor, then murmured, "I am your slave, master. My name is Iris."

  He felt his prick surge back to life with all its savage, pent-up lust at the sight of this intoxicatingly lovely young siren. He bent to her and drew her to her feet and pulled her to him, then crushed his mouth against her. Her lips were soft and thin, yet moist and feverishly mobile. Her delicate tongue thrust between his lips in that kiss, and he was shaken to his very marrow by the suppleness and allu
re of her almost naked body. From it there emanated the scent of frangipani and also the cloying odor of musk.

  "Where are you from, lovely Iris?"

  "From the Dutch East Indies, master. My father was Dutch, my mother Indonesian. I please you, yes?"

  "Very much. And this is only the beginning."

  "Will my master give me permission to be naked with him, that I may do his bidding in bed? I am very talented, not only in fucking, but also in buggering. But if my master would prefer, my mouth and my titties can love his cock and bring him pleasure," the girl murmured. She had a charmingly soft voice with just a touch of husky accent that he found fascinating. And when he felt the swollen tip of his prick prodding through that frail silk loincloth against her soft cunt, he knew that he must have relief from the torturing abstinence which had been imposed upon him since his wife's death.

  Instantly she removed the bra, letting it flutter to the floor, and the proud turrets of her breasts thrust out, the nipples dusky coral, voluptuously developed and already stiff with erotic ardor. Then, reaching her hands behind her so that the tips of her titties brushed his naked chest, Iris loosened the loincloth which fell at her ankles and she was divinely naked.