Or me, thought Sherry, looking at the unwelcoming sea. She decided she was a creature of calm waters and sandy beaches. No communing with the deep ocean for her. Her stomach resisted the heaving and pitching of the boat, but she did not enjoy it.
They followed the cliffs for a long time before they started to yield. Then, suddenly, she could see the point with the cabin and its coconut palms halfway along it. Her spirits rose and she felt happy again when Ahmed looped around to drop them on the beach.
The twins settled on the verandah and the men decided to take the old windsurfing board out to the reef. Sherry sat alone in the bathroom. She had made an interesting discovery. Hair conditioner was very slippery. She had sat on the concrete floor and rubbed conditioner onto her ankle and under the cuff. This began to look promising. She had forced the cuff down until her heel and her instep held it. Not good. It was still very tight and she worked more conditioner under it. Careful not to rattle her chain, she started to twist it around her foot. It slid a little further. She twisted and pushed some more. Then she heard voices outside, at the back of the cabin, coming clearly over the bathroom wall. Tim and Alistair, coming for the surfboard. The cuff seemed to be moving over her heel and she struggled silently to force it further.
“I’m just going to wax this a bit. Make it a little less slippery,” she heard Tim say. “I’ll get you some proper wax, if you like. This candle is not right at all, but I suppose we aren’t going to be standing on it or anything.” He must have laid the surfboard flat and she heard the sounds of rubbing wax onto the surface begin.
“So, how’s Sherry coming along?” asked Alistair.
Tim stopped rubbing. “I don’t know. She’s a tough lady, you know. Still sleeping on the floor by herself. I’m worried about her.”
“Sleeping on the floor? She must be tough.”
Sherry almost grunted with the effort, but she was winning. With a final push the cuff slipped free. The chain clinked as it fell and she stopped still, hoping that they had not heard.
“I hope you’re right,” Tim was saying. “She doesn’t show any sign of giving in yet, and we’ve only got a couple of days left. I’d hate to lose her.”
“I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. She’s bound to realise why you’re doing it eventually. She’s not stupid.”
“I hope so. I love her, and I don’t know what I’d do if she took off to England.”
“Don’t worry. If she’s still confused when I pick you up, I’ll straighten it out. Or I can take her home with me and the twins can do it. Ready? OK, I’ve got my end.”
She heard them moving away with the board. She was still sitting on the floor, holding her cuff and trying to understand what she had just heard. Tim loved her. He had said so in honesty and she had heard it in his voice. So why was he doing this to her? What did he want? Surely he did not want a broken-spirited slave beside him, and she would not allow that anyway. Perhaps he just wanted her to be a slave sometimes, to use her like a toy when he felt like it. That did not sound very attractive either.
However she looked at it, the important thing was that he wanted her. Her illicit flute playing did not seem to have worried him. He wanted her to stay, and he wanted her enough to take a lot of trouble to convince her. No matter that she did not understand how she was meant to react, he wanted to tie her to him. That sounded far better.
She realised that she had taken off her cuff and now she had a problem. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Tim by appearing without her chain. At least, not until she had figured out what was going on. She put her toes back into the cuff and started pulling and turning. It would be difficult, but she would win.
The twin’s cooking was heavenly. She had tried to follow the recipe, but they had bundled her out onto the verandah with the men. She had taken a pillow and settled herself on the floor at Tim’s side. Apart from short excursions to refresh their drinks, she stayed on the verandah until the twins finally emerged with the food. As never before, Sherry appreciated that this was the way that humans were meant to eat, in the open air, next to a warm sea and above all, in the company of their friends. The softness of the lamplight glittering their glasses, the rich smell of the prawns, the chatter around the table, would all stay with her forever.
Finally, when the meal had been cleared away and the table set down on the sand, Alistair rang his glass and announced that he had something important to say. The twins looked up at him from their places on the floor beside him as he began to talk.
“Firstly, my friends, let’s say thank you to our delightful chefs for a splendid meal—wonderful!” He raised his glass with a smiling face and toasted them both as they clapped and laughed in appreciation of the compliment.
“Secondly, we have something more to celebrate. As we all know, a certain young lady…”
“It’s Sherry!” squeaked Hope in delight.
“A certain young and extremely beautiful young lady…” he continued.
“Oooooh!” called the audience
“A certain beautiful young lady has been staying here for the last few days. A little against her will, I think—yes?”
Sherry felt embarrassed and did not meet his eye.
“As I said, a little against her will, at least at first. She has been extremely badly treated by her mean and miserly husband...”
“Oooooh!” again from the crowd and laughter at Tim, even from Sherry.
“Who has not kept her as she should be kept. Such a wonderful and
obedient
woman…” he was interrupted again as his audience thought that ‘obedient’ was perhaps a little extravagant.
“No, no. I won’t listen to you. I say wonderful and obedient. Such a wonderful and obedient woman is, of course, a jewel beyond price and her husband should treat her like a queen. She should be kept in the finest of silks and weighed down with gold. Well, I can forgive the lack of silks. Silk is not the fabric to bring to the beach. Perhaps he will provide them when they return to Singapore, and for the moment, we have only to look at her to see that covering such magnificence with clothes would be like gilding the lily.”
Sherry felt deeply embarrassed by his words and wanted to protest, but Tim was beside her clapping frantically and whooping.
Alistair waved for silence. “I shall continue. She looks better without the silks, but that’s no excuse for not having any gold. So, during our last visit, I spoke to this husband very severely, and at last he opened his wallet. We have been on the mainland, and the girls and I stood over the goldsmith while he prepared this for you.”
From his pocket he drew a short, heavy gold chain and offered it to Sherry. She did not know what to do until Tim nudged her to get up. She took the chain. It lay over her palm, glistening richly. The links were thick and twisted to lie flat. The fastening was a small heart-shaped padlock. In its centre the links gave way to a plaque on which the words ‘
Sherry my Love’
had been engraved in flowing script. It looked beautiful.
Alistair took it back from her and gave it to the twins. They weighed and admired it together. Alistair passed them two keys. Sherry stood and watched her feet as the twins opened her cuff and threw it and its chain aside. Reverently they replaced it with the gold anklet.
“Let us see, let us see,” called Alistair and she did a slow pirouette to show it off. And then she did not know whom to thank. She went to kiss Alistair but he waved her away. “No, no, not me. Your husband. He’s the one who thinks you’re worth it.”
Tim was smiling widely as he watched her with her prize. She went to him and, to the applause of the others, kissed him. She settled happily beside him and rested with an elbow on his lap. She knew that as an oilfield engineer he was well paid, but heavy gold like this came at a price. It was by far the most valuable present she had ever received. She held at the back of her mind the thought that this was no simple gift but something much more symbolic. Still, it also showed that she was loved and respected. She felt comfortably owned, and that was a good feeling.
Then Tim lent over her and whispered “Don’t you think you should give Alistair a little present yourself?”
She immediately felt shocked and guilty. “Yes, but what? I don’t have anything with me.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’d want anything like that. He’s got everything he could need anyway, but you could play his flute for him.”
It was a kick in the stomach. The man who was meant to cherish and care for her sending her to—to suck another cock. Suddenly nauseous, she tried to work out an escape but found none. She had done it before for far less, she reasoned, and Alistair was her friend, and she owed him. Hating herself, she got to her feet.
Alistair and the twins were expecting her. The girls unfastened Alistair’s loose white shorts and drew them off. He smiled proudly at her as she knelt in front of him.
Sherry watched his sex stretching towards her. Slim and brown under its mushroom head, just as she had remembered it. She reached out with both hands to brush the rigid shaft with her fingertips. She was conscious of Tim watching behind her, and of the two girls close to her, their faces on either side of Alistair’s lap, expectant and waiting. She shuffled nearer between Alistair’s feet and bent to his cock. She knew how to do this and would give him the best he had ever had.
Chapter 20
They stood on the beach together, Tim’s arm around her. Waving as the boat turned and gathered speed, taking their friends home. They stood alone in the moonlight.
“I really enjoyed that,” said Tim.
“Enjoyed what?”
“The evening. The meal—everything. Didn’t you?”
Sherry thought about it as Tim took her hand and led her back to the cabin. Yes, she had enjoyed it. The meal, the atmosphere. The chain that weighed around her ankle. She had been flattered by Alistair’s speech and then even more by the twin’s admiration for the experience she had given Alistair, and she had to admit to herself that she had even enjoyed giving that experience. Tim was right. It was a fine present and suitable for a man who had everything.
But as she examined what had happened… It felt like probing with her tongue for an extracted tooth, again and again. What was Tim thinking? How could he make her do it? What did his love mean to him?
When they got back to the cabin, Tim sat her down and unlocked her anklet. Again she took it in her hand and admired it. It lay like a snake in her palm, rich, powerful, dangerous. As she admired it, Tim took her by surprise by bringing her cuff and chain and kneeling to fasten it. For an instant she thought of kicking and fighting, but the chain had no terror for her now and she continued caressing her gold anklet before putting it away safely.
Tim showered quickly while she tidied up the last of the mess. When she came back from her own shower he was lying still under the mosquito net. She reached under the net for a pillow but on impulse lifted the net over her head instead. After what had happened, sleeping on the floor was irrelevant.
Tim’s eyes opened as he felt her kneel on the bed and he smiled. “Welcome…” he said.
She said nothing as she lay down beside him. There was nothing to say. She lay rigidly on her back, waiting for him to touch her but he left her alone.
She woke with a start. Morning had come. In her sleep she had pressed back to spoon into Tim’s body and his arm rested over her hip. His stillness and his breathing showed he was asleep but pressing under the back of her thigh she felt the warm hardness of his rod. She lay unmoving and felt it pulse gently against her. Tim was dreaming of good things.
Gently she disengaged herself and turned to face him. His erection looked strong in his lap, pointing up at her, its half-hooded eye staring. It looked big, much bigger than the one she had pleasured last night. No surprise that the twins had been excited and had rushed to ride it. She wanted to play with it herself.
Careful not to wake Tim, she wriggled down the bed to get closer. The tip looked wet, a tear in its eye. She reached out to touch it with her fingertips and it jumped for her. The shaft was hard, tough resilience covered by a dry, silky sheath. Using only the tips of her fingers, she drew the sheath back to expose the mauve plum. A change in Tim’s breathing told that he had woken. She grasped the shaft in her fist and pulled the skin firmly back.
“Mmmh, I like that,” he said dreamily. With her other hand she cupped his balls, brushing the hairy sac. Tim stretched out straight, pushing his cock towards her.
In the old days, she would have pumped him, built up his excitement by working her hand up and down until he could climax, but she was wiser now. With the sheath pulled back tight, she tormented his mushroom head. Trailing her fingertips round and round, poking under the rim, lightly scratching the taut skin. She took her reward of sighs and sharp intakes of breath. It felt good to do this to him. He was completely in her control. She renewed her attack, taking the plum between her fingers, squeezing it, pulling, twisting. His reaction became wilder and out of control until he was crying “No, no, stop! Stop!”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing, but it’s too soon. Stop a minute. I want to enjoy you first.”
He knew what he wanted. He rolled onto his back and pulled her over him. He guided her to kneel astride his hips and then pulled her forward to lie on his chest. He felt big and strong underneath her and he would not let her rest. He had one hand behind her head kissing her, while his other hand ranged over her back from her shoulders down to her bottom and underneath. This felt good. Both hands were exploring her now as she held his face in her hands and kissed him.
“Now—I want to see,” he said and lifted her up. Still astride him, he pulled her up his body until she knelt over his chest. She looked behind her at her chain. It snaked over his stomach and the rigid cock that lay there. It too was a prisoner.