Captured

A goddess is only human, after all. (Sequel to "Primitive")

"Somebody needs to bring you down a peg," said Ford, eyeing my naked breasts with a lusty sneer.

"Oh, really? I suppose you think you're the man for the job?" I stood on the opposite side of the crude hut, arched my back to offer my tits for his scrutiny.

His fingers curled at his sides. He was itching to get his hands on me, but he knew better than to touch me without permission. Just yesterday he had tried it, and four warrior tribesmen had burst into the hut and hauled him out spread-eagled, staked his four limbs to the ground and left him there all night. I had checked on him every hour to make sure he wasn't suffering too badly, but the stoical Captain Ford Sanders refused to ask for water, or mercy. And he refused to apologize.

"I need you, Katie. Say the word."

He glanced over to the hammock and I knew exactly what he was thinking...

One day last week I had been napping in the hammock when he had awakened me in the most delectable fashion. Naked except for a bright-flowered scarf tied around my hips, my legs parted, I lay diagonally on the taut hammock—the only way you can sleep in a hammock without waking up with a broken back. Ford had crept into the hut, knelt on the soft earth before me, pushed my thighs apart with gentle hands, and licked my delicate pussy to arousal so gently that I thought I was dreaming.

As I stirred to consciousness, my hips squirming in a seductive grind, the rhythm of the caresses of his rough tongue quickened on my dancing clit. I was surprised to realize that the musical tones that pierced through the fog of my dream-like desire were my own passionate moans.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded breathlessly, snagging my fingers in his long hair, clutching him to my drenched sex.

It was a rhetorical question, but he pulled his mouth away to answer, leaving my throbbing clit exposed to the tropical air. "Giving you what you've been wanting since we ran aground on this god-forsaken island." He breathed a raspy chuckle that wafted like a warm zenith over the flat plane of my belly.

"Well, stop talking about it, then, and give it to me." I hooked a long leg over his shoulder, claiming his body for myself. I already knew how satisfying his hard cock could be; now I would find out what my most rebellious subject could do with his beautiful mouth.

He buried his nose in my mound, teasing himself with the scent of my moist cunt, and teasing me by not returning his attentions to my solitary clit. Then he stroked the wet folds of my pussy with the flat blade of his tongue, probing the entrance to that moist secret place with the tip of his tongue, making me mad with longing.

"Dammit, Ford, you know what I want. Don't make me wait any longer."

"Or what? You'll have your handmaidens torture me by rubbing my cock or sticking their fingers in my ass? Ha! Throw me in that briar patch!"

I was about to release a string of epithets, most of which I had learned during my two months aboard his now defunct sailing ship, but just then he began to flicker his talented tongue over my clit, coaxing it out to play again, sucking it into his warm mouth, drawing on it with gentle, rhythmic pressure until I came with a shuddering spasm, lifting my hips from the swaying hammock, while Ford's lips never released their hold on my quivering sex.

Oh, he had turned me into a wanton slut that day, had drawn me to the dirt floor onto my back where he entered me easily, pulling my legs up onto his shoulders, and fucking me deeply while he clutched my thighs as if I were nothing more than a tool for his lust, afterwards reaching under me to smooth his rough hand along the voluptuous curve of my ass. And I had been too gone in my own lust to demand that he address me as "Goddess Malina," or that he first ask permission on bended knee for my much sought-after attention. He was the only man on the island who could get away with such blasphemy.

And now he was back, eyeing that hammock and my mouth-watering breasts, ready for another session with the goddess.

"You need me? But I don't need you, Ford. There are men all over this island who would do anything just to kiss my feet. You're too demanding. You want to kiss...everything else." I chuckled mischievously, and Ford scowled, sky-blue eyes darkening to slate.

"Those savages can't satisfy you. I can."

He was right, but I would never admit it to him.

Besides, I was enjoying watching his frustrated cock rise beneath the scrap of fabric that used to be trousers but now served as more of a loin cloth. A little more teasing, a little more ogling of my full, swaying tits, and his hard-on would be peeking out from under that cloth.

"Come here," I said, crooking my finger.

He crossed the room in three strides, reaching out to grab my enticing breasts, but I cautioned him with a look.

"Hands at your sides," I commanded. With an effort, he obeyed.

I reached under the loose flap of fabric and curled my fingers around his stiff cock.

"Mmmm...is this for me?"

"Dammit, Katie—"

"Katie?"

"Malina, whatever. I don't care what your name is, I just want to get my cock inside your pussy."

I swiped my thumb across the head of his cock to gather the juices that had collected there, then ran my hand down the length of his shaft to the base, distributing the slick wetness over it. Then out to the tip again, circling my thumb just under the swollen head, watching his jaw clench, his eyes darken like a sky before the storm, his hands twitching at his sides as he controlled his desire to touch me.

"I know what you want, lover." I chuckled at the way his hips thrust against my roving hand.

"Then why do you tease me like this?" he gritted.

I smiled, leaned up to press a light kiss on his hard mouth.

"Because I can."

Laughing, I deftly unknotted the scarf that barely covered my bottom and my own swelling sex, and quickly tied the me-scented fabric around his eyes.

He fought valiantly to keep his hands at his sides. He knew that my fiercely devoted bodyguards and worshippers were within the sound of my voice, and he was not ready to risk another night staked to the ground.

"Please, Malina, fuck me again." He wasn't allowed to touch me without permission, but nothing said he couldn't beg shamelessly.

I continued to laugh softly, circling him as he stood there like a helpless, forlorn pup, his huge cock trembling at attention, stringy drops dribbling from its engorged head. I let my fingertips trail lightly over his belly, his buttocks, his back, his nipples, as I circled him the way a predator circles its prey.

"Fuck you? Aren't you getting a little greedy, Ford?"

"Anything, please, I beg you. Just play with my cock some more." It was as if being hidden behind the mask of my scarf liberated him to make his pleas without embarrassment, to cast aside his defenses and throw himself on my mercy.

"You beg me? You like groveling before your goddess?"

"No!" he ground out harshly. Well, perhaps he still clung to some of his defenses.

I knew how to fix that. I seized a bamboo stick from a corner of the hut. I had never used it on anyone, but Nema had insisted that I keep it to punish disobedient subjects. The arcing cane split the air with a hiss and landed with a crack on Ford's naked ass.

Stunned, his legs buckled and he dropped to his knees on the dirt floor.

I was surprised at my own strength, and thrilled by my power.

"You like to beg and plead to your goddess Malina?" I demanded again.

"Dammit, Katie—"

I let the cane fly again, slicing into the taut flesh of his buttocks. His back arched like a bow and he sucked in a racking breath that spoke his exquisite pain.

I say exquisite, because I noticed that his dripping cock was even harder than before, the skin stretched tight to bursting, the purple veins distended. My mouth watered. I would love to feel that large inflated vein wobbling against my tongue. But I had other things to attend to just now. A vengeful goddess really can't be distracted, not even for a diamond-cutter of a hard-on that has her name written all over it.

"Now, then, Ford, let me ask you again. Do you like to beg the goddess for her favors?"

Just to speed up the process—Ford can be a very stubborn man—I reached down and scraped the two red welts on his buttocks with my long fingernails.

"Aiieee---yes! Hell, yes, Malina, you know I love to beg you!"

"Then do it."

"Please, Malina. I'll take whatever you can give me. I would love to drink your come again, like I did before."

The bastard knew that would get to me. My pussy started creaming with the thought of his mouth sipping my copious juices.

"Presumptuous!" I whipped the bamboo stick against the wall of the hut, and Ford's cock flinched in a conditioned response. "What makes you think I would let you lick me again?"

"I'll give you whatever you want, Malina. Do you want my cock in your cunt?"

Oh, he knew what I liked to hear, knew that the memory of his shaft buried deep inside me would make the walls of my pussy clench in greedy desire.

"Whatever I want?" I stood behind him, eased my hands down over his shoulders to nip the two sun-browned nipples until their tiny tips hardened.

He groaned, pressed his head back against my feverish tits, knowing that pressure would thrill me.

"Yes, anything. God, I can smell you, Malina. Can smell your sweet pussy. Let me touch you."

I increased my pinching of his nipples with a vengeance, and he writhed under my hands. When he tried to turn his head, his mouth open like a baby bird to suck my breast, I squeezed harder still, gripping the small buds of his nipples to control my wayward lover.

Each grasping tweak drew deep groans from him, and each groan drew a responding spasm from my swelling cunt.

I slipped my hip-scarf from around his face. "Turn around," I commanded. "You may touch me now. I want your fingers in my cunt."

Ford was only too eager to obey and satisfy his tactile needs. Kneeling before me, he drove two stiffened fingers into my soaked grasping tunnel, braced me with his other hand behind my bottom while I bounced and rocked onto his hand, dancing on my toes in the dirt. I dug my nails into his hard shoulders, bit back a scream, and came like Niagara Falls on his hand.

"Let me lick you now, Katie—goddess," he whispered hoarsely.

Running my fingers through his hair as if he were my possession, I said, "Lick your fingers."

He was too desperate not to comply with my every command. Knowing that he could earn my favor by his obedience, he slid his wet fingers into his mouth and sucked them hungrily, all the while looking up at me with those cloudy-blue eyes that belied the subservience of his kneeling posture.

Those eyes told me that I would soon be his, regardless of the bowing and scraping, begging and kneeling. There was nothing docile in that hooded, glowering stare. And my pussy tightened and clenched anew in luscious trepidation.

"What do you want now, goddess? Hungry for my cock?"

I despised that knowing look of his. Just thinking of the heady flavor of his cock made me salivate, but, dammit, he was supposed to be dancing to my tune, not the other way around. "No." I clapped my hands twice and within seconds one of my beautiful small-breasted handmaidens came into the hut.

I left Ford kneeling in the dirt while I lay back on my hammock and let my young attendant massage coconut oil onto my breasts until they shone. Of course Ford couldn't take his eyes off her gentle hands gliding over my golden skin, and I kept my eye on his cock. He didn't disappoint me; his cock remained erect and his straying hand sought that pulsating rod. I let him grasp his hard cock and pump it two or three times before I said, "Leave it alone."

"God, Katie," he groaned deeply, but let his hand drop to his side.

Meanwhile I turned over on my stomach and let the girl rub oil onto my back and over my buttocks until the skin was misty with the sheen of oil and sweat. I watched Ford's face, delighting in the painful desire that his heavy eyelids could not disguise.

I gave the girl a look and she knelt in the corner of the hut, ready to attend me again if I desired. She kept her eyes down, but there was no doubt in my mind that she would manage to sneak a look at her beloved goddess if given half a chance.

I rose from the hammock and stood in front of Ford again. The close air in the hut was heady with the scent of coconut oil, my juices, and the male aroma of Ford's sweat and sex.

"Get on the hammock. On your back."

I admired the sinews of Ford's broad shoulders, his taut ass with its two red horizontal stripes, the long muscled thighs.

I wanted to thank some all-powerful being for having such a beautiful male body at my disposal, but since I was the deity on this island, who could I thank? I guess that's what they mean when they say it's lonely at the top.

The hammock began to sway sideways gently as I climbed on top of Ford and enveloped his cock in my ready cunt.

"Give me your tits," he growled, reaching his hands to cup my full breasts, seizing the nipples roughly and pulling me towards him.

"It's not your place to tell the goddess—"

"Shut up, Katie, and give me your tits."

I whimpered at the tight pain and my body followed my nipples as he lifted his head to take both of those rose-colored buds in his mouth at once, squeezing my breasts together. The sensation of his hungry mouth feeding on both my nipples made my pussy contract around that solid muscle inside me, and I gyrated my hips over his, trying to waylay my orgasm and at the same time wanting to feel his pulsing cock touch every part of my smooth cunt, from the swelling clit to the G-spot, which--when encountered--switched off my brain and made me forget that I was anything but an animal, made for sex.

Ford paused in his feasting on my breasts and nodded his head in the direction of my young attendant, whom I had completely forgotten was kneeling in the corner.

"Get rid of her. I don't really like performing for an audience."

He was certainly quick to give orders to the resident goddess! But he had, after all, been captain of a ship for several years and was used to commanding and being obeyed. In the present instance, I could forgive his domineering behavior, since I, too, was impatient to have him fucking me with the controlled abandon that I knew he was capable of.

I climbed out of the hammock (easier said than done when your toes are caught in the mesh), and guided the maiden to the door, making sure it was closed and latched behind her. I turned around, ready to spear my twinging cunt once again on Ford's accommodating erection.

But he was right there behind me, and before I could even let out a gasp of surprise, he shoved his scrap of a loin cloth into my mouth and swiftly wrapped it around behind my head and wrenched it tight. I shrieked behind my gag, but all sound was muffled.

I stretched my fingers to claw at his face, but he captured both my hands, jerked them behind my back, and, looping my hip scarf around my wrists, yanked it taut in an unyielding knot.

Damn sailors and their damn knots!

I kept up my muted and unintelligible cries. But my handmaiden had seen what Ford and I were doing; if anyone outside heard me at all, she would tell them that the goddess Malina was known to make such noises in the throes of passion.

Ford spun me around, shoved me to my knees on the ground. I tried to cry out the names of my bodyguards, but my lips were stretched wide around the gag; my tongue was useless, and could not form words.

"If I could keep you from screaming, Katie, I wouldn't use the gag. I'd just stick my cock in your throat." He grabbed a fistful of my hair and turned my face to his raging hard cock.

I lifted my furious gaze to his and with my eyes told them that if he stuck his cock in my mouth, I would bite it off. He got the message, and chuckled hoarsely, undaunted by the sileny fury I expressed.

He reclined on his side on the hammock, propped on one elbow, one knee cocked up on the mesh, and, with one long leg stretched over the edge of the hammock and one toe on the ground, he tipped the hammock into a lazy swing.

The more I struggled at the scarf on my wrists, the more knotted it became. And Ford lay there indolently watching me thrash about, enjoying every jiggle and bounce of my breasts as I twisted and contorted in my indelicate ballet. I continued to scream until my throat was raw, and he waited, a paragon of patience, his face an insolent smirk.

My breath came in ragged wheezes through my nose, my breasts lifting as I hauled in lungfuls of air. Once I stopped fighting my bonds and stopped cursing (okay, I was still cursing mentally), I became aware that the gag in my mouth tasted like the redolent mixture of Ford's male sweat and briny semen.

My eyes still conveyed my rage. Even in my ire, I could not resist the visual feasting on Ford's hard male body, stretched so languorously on the hammock, the curves and indentations of his shoulders and biceps, the two flattened planes of his pectoral muscles, the ripples of his belly as he moved his foot along the floor to keep the hammock in slow motion, the wiry dark hair that called out to my fingers with the need to touch. And then of course, that beautiful hard cock pointing toward his abdomen as if to display itself so proudly, the way male animals of every species flaunt their sex for the female. And the heavy sac that dangled against his thigh, leathery, brown, enticing. I pressed my tongue against the musky fabric of his loin cloth in my mouth.

I must have been delirious, making myself weary with my futile exertions, to even think of desiring that man. But my traitorous cunt, which always told the truth, craved his cock and nothing else.

"Now that you're through with your tantrum," he began, still smirking victoriously, "maybe you're ready to listen to reason."

I shrugged my shoulders to let him know I had no other choice but to listen to his inane lecture.

"Good. I'll get right to the point. You've been a complete bitch these last two weeks, Katie, ever since we were washed ashore of this little paradise."

I lifted my eyebrows, challenging him to explain himself.

"Teasing me, playing your power games, strutting around here topless and then making me ask permission just to touch you, when you know you want me as much as I want you."

I tried to look bored, and let my gaze wander off.

"You are a goddess sometimes, Katie. But don't forget you're a woman, A mortal being. And the only reason you're not dead now is because I saved your life."

I fixed my eyes on him in a challenge, and expelled a sardonic "Ha!" around my gag.

"I don't think you've ever thanked me for hauling your body to shore when we went overboard in the storm."

He was right about that. I had never even thought about how we came ashore on the island. But of course, it was Ford who had clung to my lifeless body when we plunged into the sea and I took in lungfuls of water.

"Now, I'm not expecting gratitude. Well, not that much," he went on. "But I'm fed up with your superior attitude. And as I said when I came in here, somebody needs to take you down a peg."

So that's what this was all about. He'd come in here with every intention of subduing me, had played along with my demands until he had the opportunity to get me into this present condition: bound and gagged.

"Bastard!" I screamed, but my curse was incoherent.

"I think it's time that gorgeous ass of yours got the punishment it deserves."

"You're not going to fuck me in the ass!" I ranted unintelligibly, renewing my struggles against my bindings.