Terror Island

Looking back, I suppose some warning signs were there, but nobody picked up on them. My eyes stared at the ceiling as I felt the black man beside me stir in his sleep. I closed my eyes as I felt the wetness on my thighs and remembered his grunting as he shot his seed deep in me. "How, how," I wondered, "Did I get into such a situation." Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I realized that I was trapped and forced into providing "services" for a number of his clients. I also thought of Susan and wondered what they had done to her. The remaining three blacks had taken her to the bondage room and I hoped she was OK. The man's hand on my breast brought me back to the present and I cringed as I felt him roll the nipple between his fingers. I turned my head away in the dark and thought about the beginning of the damned vacation trip to the Virgin Islands.

The travel agent had been very helpful as Susan, her husband and my husband, John and I (my name is Lynn) asked for information about the islands. I noticed that he stared a little too much at Susan's and my figures as we talked, but why shouldn't he. We are both in our early 30's, no kids and take care of our bodies. Susan is about 5'3 and 110 pounds. Probably a c-cup and a natural blonde, her face is that of an angel. I'm 5'5 and 125 pounds, 35b and a brunette. The agent, a tall black man, asked all the right questions; How long, what were we looking for, etc, etc, before he came up with a suggestion about Legg Island, a small resort, he said off the coast of St. Thomas. We had done some research about several resorts on the main island and told him that we weren't interested in the resort he suggested. He smiled and said he would get some information on the other places.

Several days later, he called and told John that most everything was booked except one less than desirable hotel on the main island and the 4star resort on Legg Island and it was almost booked. Seemed like there was a convention on the island that week and everything was tight. He sent some pictures of Legg Island and it looked charming. An old plantation style house with grounds and what looked like a golf course in back. The next day the agent called and said that there were only two rooms left and that we should book them if we wanted to go. The four of us met and we decided to take the agent's advice and go to Legg Island. John picked up the phone and called the agent, telling him to book the rooms. They confirmed the dates and we were set for our trip. What we didn't know was that the agent made a phone call after we confirmed that we would go and that he gave the other party our dates of arrival and departure and Susan's and my physical appearances in detail. The other party assured the agent that the house and the other guests would be ready and that a week would be plenty of time for Susan and me.

As the time approached we became more and more excited and looked forward to the trip. We boarded the plane in Miami and soon we were on the ground in St. Thomas. The heat and humidity were stifling as we walked through the terminal and soon my white blouse was wet with perspiration and clung to the swell of my breasts. Self conscious that my bra and the outline of my nipple showed, I tried to pull it away from my skin, but it kept on clinging as soon as I let it go.

We went to the information desk and asked about transportation to Legg Island. The woman on the desk looked through her computer listings and started to say that she didn't have any information when a huge black man in a driver's uniform cut her off. He asked if we were the party going to Legg Island and when we said yes he escorted us to a large van at the curb. He loaded our luggage and drove us to the docks where we boarded a 40-foot cruiser for our trip to the island.

Once aboard a pretty black woman served us drinks and we watched a beautiful sunset as we cruised toward our fate. By the time we saw the island in the distance we all had had several drinks and I was feeling very sexy. I smiled to myself as I thought, "John going to be in for quite a romp when I get him to our room." My pleasant thought of John fucking me silly was interrupted as we tied off at a small wooden dock. Torches lighted the path to the house and the house itself was dark except for the flickering of candles in the windows. The black man explained that the power was provided by underwater cable and that it goes bad every so often, but that it would be back on soon.

In the distance I faintly heard the sounds of drums and asked about it. The driver said that there were still a few that practiced voodoo, but they were harmless and had even become somewhat of a tourist attraction. In spite of the explanation I felt a shiver course through my body as we walked toward the house. Once inside, we registered and the desk clerk again apologized for the power outage and explained that most of the guests had gone to bed already. We got our keys and went to our rooms where I hoped that John would take me over and over again. I was wet thinking about his hard cock entering me as we walked to the room and by the time we got there my nipples were hard as rocks, my body aching to be pinned beneath my man as he thrust into me.

Once in the room I nearly attacked him as I dropped to my knees in front of his crotch and unzipped his pants. After several seconds of fumbling I got his semi hard cock out and engulfed it with my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tip as I sucked for all I was worth. As I worked on the cock, I could hear the sounds of drums again in the distance. It added a feel of dread and frankly was exciting as I thought of the strange and erotic things that were attributed to voodoo cults. For some reason John's cock remained semi hard and I grasp the base with my hand as the cock slide out of my mouth with a plop. Stroking the cock with my hand I looked up at him and asked him if there was anything wrong. He just smiled and said he was very tired so in spite of my needs I tucked him in and got ready for bed. By the time I came out of the candle lit bathroom he was sound asleep. Disappointed, I started to get in bed when there was a knock on our door.

I looked at John and decided that he was gone so I got up, put on my bathrobe and answered the door. The desk clerk stood there in the doorway, his black face almost indistinguishable in the candlelight, and with apologies, said that there was a radio message for us downstairs. I turned to get John, but the clerk took my arm and said," He looks so peaceful. Don't wake him." He led me down the hall toward the stairs as the drums in the distance continue to pound out their rhythm. I felt my skin crawl as the black's hand held my upper arm and he led me to the lobby. He gave me the message. It was from our travel agent, wishing us a good trip and stated that he would see us soon. "That's it," I said, a little anger in my tone as I turned and stomped back toward the stairs. I didn't see the clerk smile and muttered to himself that no, that's not it by a long shot.

I walked up the stairs and started down to our room when I hear a woman moaning, the same moaning I wanted to come from my mouth earlier, before John fell asleep. I stopped and it seemed to be coming from the next room down on the left. I approached it slowly and was amazed to see that the door was slightly open. As quietly as I could I moved to the door and peered into the room.

My eyes widened as I saw a beautiful, tall blonde under a massively built black man. Her legs were spread around his torso and pointed straight up as his body pounded the black cock into her pale white body. Her legs would kick and then encircle him as he fucked her. My first inclination was to run to my room, but I heard the unmistakable moan of a woman about to cum and I turned to watch, her body thrashing as the orgasm engulfed her. Her eyes were closed tight as she writhed under the dominant black man, her body moving to get as much of his cock in her as she could. After a minute or so she slowed down and the man turned and to my horror looked right at me. Another black stepped out of the shadows beside the woman and he too looked at me. He was naked and his erect cock was standing straight out from his body as he stroked the woman's hair. Panic almost set in when I saw that the woman's hands were tied to the frame above her head. Turning on my heels, I fled back to my room. Afraid, yet vaguely excited I slipped into bed and stared straight ahead, heart pounding as visions of the black cock plunging into her went through my mind. The drums were still pounding and I imagined the rhythm of the sexual mating I witnessed as being in time with the drums.

I tossed and turned for maybe thirty minutes, trying to get to sleep as my husband snored beside me. The vision of the woman being taken kept flashing through my brain as I turned over. I screamed in fear when I saw the forms next to the bed. I reached over to John and shook him, but he was out cold as I felt two pair of hands on my arms forcing me off the bed and almost carrying me toward the door to the hallway.

I was screaming bloody murder as they forced me down the stairs and out the front door into the warm, moist night. They didn't seem concerned at all that my screams might wake someone up and I soon stopped. We went down the path back toward the beach, but veered off onto another, smaller path. I could see a glow from some sort of lights ahead and the drums were getting louder as fear caused beads of perspiration to form on my face.

The two blacks tightened their grip on my arms as we rounded a curve and came to a large clearing. Torches were burning around the perimeter of the clearing and large number of black people in various stages of dress or maybe more accurately, undress were milling around the torch lit area. There must have been at least a hundred, roughly equally divided between men and women, the women mostly bare breasted and swaying to the drumbeat. Several of the men were touching bare breasts as they too swayed to the beat. We stopped at the edge and watched for several minutes as the drums increased their intensity. As I looked around the clearing I saw at one end a rough raised platform, almost like a stage. I could see the top of an upright frame above the top of a curtain that hid the stage. Warning bells went off in my head as the men forced me forward until I was standing near the middle of the clearing, directly in front of the stage. Swirling men and woman brushed by me, touching my hair and face as they went by and I cringed and try to back away, but the men were strong and I was forced to stand there.

Suddenly the drums stopped and the people that a moment before had been in frenzy stood motionless. My breathing had become rapid, my breasts heaving as fear settled in my mind. I saw movement beside the stage as an ancient woman in a black gown walked slowly to a set of steps and ascended to the stage. Her body was hunched over with age and her face lined and weathered, several teeth missing from her mouth. My gaze was redirected as the curtain was slowly pulled aside and a scream formed in my throat as I saw Susan tied to the frame. Her hands were secured high above her head by black iron manacles, the type that was used on slaves. It was almost like one of the men read my mind, I heard him whisper in my ear, "The iron manacles were used on the slave woman when the white owner bred them and on the bucks when they was whipped. They look good on your friend and will look good on you too bitch, but for right now, just watch."

I could see the dread in Susan's eyes as the old woman approached her. The short nightgown rode up to her waist because her arms were tied above her head, exposing her white panties. Her legs were manacled far apart to either side of the frame and her breasts were heaving in fear as the drums started a slow beat. I could see the perspiration on her forehead as the hot, sticky air joined with her fear to produce the wetness. Susan struggled against the iron restraints and started to scream as the woman turned toward her and reached for the top of her nightgown. "No, no," she screamed as the old woman grasped the top of Susan's gown, "NO, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Even in the flickering light of the torches I could see my friend's face turn red with embarrassment as the gown was ripped from her bound body, her breasts pale in the flickering light, her nipples a shade darker against the white flesh.

There were murmurs and a shocked expression on Susan's face as the old woman raised her hand with what appeared to be a headless chicken and moved the severed neck part over Susan's breasts, leaving a trail of blood across her chest. I heard my friend whimper and strain her body against the ropes binding her as the old woman lowered her head to Susan's left breast and began to suck on the bloody nipple. After several seconds she moved her mouth to Susan's other breast and took the nipple in her mouth. I could see the old woman's mouth sort of gently chew on my friend's nipple as Susan whimpered in fear.

The drums increased in intensity as the old woman drew away from Susan's nipple. In a loud voice the woman chanted something I didn't understand as she rubbed the bloody chicken over Susan's belly then down the inside of each of her thighs. Susan was shrieking as the woman pushed the bloody carcass between her wide spread legs and rubbed blood on her pubic area. Then the woman began to kneel down, her head moving between Susan's spread legs. Susan's was in terror, her body thrashing against the manacles as the old woman's hands grasp her thighs and her mouth pushed against my friends slit.

"No, no, stay away from me, please, oh help me No, no, noooooooo," Susan screamed as the old woman's tongue slide the length of her lips and settled on the clitoris. Seconds later she had quit screaming and hung in the iron manacles, sobbing as her pussy was ravished by the old woman's tongue. Her eyes were closed and her head turn to one side, cheeks flushed with terror and embarrassment as the tongue lashed her clitoris over and over. The drums got louder still and the crowd begin to shout as the woman, her tongue still working between Susan's thighs, held her hand in the air. There was a murmur through the crowd, as they seemed to be waiting on something to happen. The old woman continued to go down on Susan's spread-eagled body until the drums stopped. When the drums stopped it was silent except for Susan's sobbing as the old woman turned to the crowd and said, "It is time."