My Wish - Time Guardians Book One (17 page)

Alana saw her fists clench as if fighting the urge to grab him and hold him tight to those lovely breasts that trembled at his closeness.

Both Hari and Sami couldn't hide their erections—out of the crowds of beautiful and naked people, only two women had elicited this kind of response. Alana knew she was looking at the "friends" whose gifts traveled with Hari and Sami throughout their journeys.

Hmm again, she thought, mind working furiously.

Hari and Sami wrenched themselves back into the moment as the crowd surged around them, smiling, welcoming, patting, kissing, touching—she would have felt swamped and nervous if it hadn't been for the fact that there was such incredible happiness shining from all these lovely faces.

"Um—nice to meet you all," she muttered, trying not to notice the large number of bare breasts and jutting cocks that bobbed about quite cheerfully.

She felt her Genies come to her side protectively, and breathed a little sigh of relief as the crowd moved back.

However, it was not to give her room that the people were moving—it was to make way for a new arrival.

He strode boldly down the path toward her, the sun glinting on his tumble of shoulder length black hair and sparking off the silver that glinted at his temples. He wore black silk loose pants, slung very low on his hips, and an open silk tunic which fell from his broad shoulders, catching the breeze as he walked and billowing out on either side. His chest was a thing of beauty with the lightest touch of black hair scattered over solid flesh, narrowing to a thin line pointing down to his trousers. He was barefoot, gorgeous, and Alana's entire body tightened with arousal as he neared her.

"You." she gasped as she recognized him. "You sold me the vessel."

"Alana, may we present—the Guardian," said Sami, bowing low.

The others followed suit, bowing low before this man who held so much power in his hands. Gone were the elegant business suit and the charming demeanor of a gallery owner. Now there was nothing but raw sexuality, and an intelligent energy that surrounded him like heat.

His eyes were nearly black and burned into Alana from beneath straight brows. Gazing at him squarely in the face, she noticed the touch of arrogance in the angle of his chin, and the way his moustache and goatee tilted at her in an almost accusing fashion.

"Greetings, Miss West," he said, in a rather disinterested tone. "Welcome to Anyela."

She found herself on the horns of a dilemma. Long a vocal opponent of what she liked to call "arrogant managerial machismo," she was now face-to-face with someone who really looked like he was a prime candidate for the title. On the other hand, her body was encouraging her to rip off her clothes, lie down, spread her legs and beg him to fuck her brains out. What to do?

"It's a pleasure to be here, Mr. Guardian..." she began, not sure how one addressed the "Guardian" of a time portal.
That
never got covered in Cosmo's Q and A columns.

"I'm sure it is," he drawled. "Now let's get to the ceremony, shall we?" He turned away abruptly and strode off down another path.

"Well," snorted Alana, hands on hips. "I hope he's better at guarding time than he is on manners."

Hari and Sami winced.

"Dear one, he carries many grave burdens and is as close to a ruler as we have here. It is his right to be that way if he chooses."

"Hmph... Not if he wants loyal and happy subjects. How does he know people won't get upset if he acts like that and try and stage a coup or something?"

She was interrupted by a chokingly orgasmic cry as they passed a couple seated on top of each other.

"Well, okay, people might be a bit too busy for a revolution, but there's still no excuse for that kind of...of...
attitude
..." She flounced off the path after the Guardian, leaving Hari and Sami to follow. She was quite aware that two silent women had also decided to join the group, but said nothing as they walked on.

They reached what seemed to be a public square of some kind—open buildings housed storefronts offering many different selections of merchandise—it was a shopper's heaven and Alana's fingers itched to browse.

"Later, now just attend to the Guardian's words, please," urged Hari, directing her attention away from the stalls.

"Urgh," she groaned. "This is truly torture."

The Guardian had stepped onto a low dais and was waiting for the crowd to assemble. "Candidates for the role of Qualifier, stand forward," barked the Guardian.

A sizeable number of very nicely hung young men dropped their silks and stepped forward.
Goodness
,
this could get interesting.

Hari and Sami stepped away from her side—she felt their movement rather than saw it, and turned with a sound of distress.

"It is now time for you to undergo the graduation ceremony, Alana. We can do no more but tell you that you are in our hearts..." The looks on their faces were almost identical—a blend of pride, passion and sadness.

This was the end of her journey with them, she realized, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Alana West," said the Guardian loudly. "You have been selected to fulfill the Graduation Ceremony here on Anyela. At the conclusion of this ceremony you will be granted permanent possession of all the abilities you have learned over the past period of time in company with our two delegates, Hari and Sami."

He nodded in their direction, and they bowed their heads respectfully.

"Your life will change for the better—you will be filled with the knowledge of the pleasure you can give and receive and you will play an important role in the future of your timeline, although we cannot divulge to you what that role will be."

His black-eyed gaze rested on Alana, sending sensual shivers down her abdomen to her clit. She knew her body was moistening and was helpless to stop it. This damn Guardian could probably make her come just by looking at her.

"Understanding all these benefits, are you now ready to begin the Graduation Ceremony?"

She took a deep breath as an idea crystallized into a plan deep within her.

Gazing right back into the Guardian's eyes, she raised her head.

"No."

Chapter 17

The silence that fell was total. Not a leaf rustled in the luxuriant vegetation that surrounded the square, nor a body twitched amongst the people who had been shocked into immobility.

The Guardian stared at Alana, and for one second she felt a—presence—of sorts within her mind. His eyes narrowed.

"You have refused this gift we offer you?"

"Yes, I..."

"You are within your rights to do so." The Guardian looked at the crowd that was beginning to murmur in disbelief.

"This woman has the right to refuse—just as we have the right to suggest that she reconsider this decision."

"But, I want..."

The Guardian ignored her.

"Take her to the Loom."

He strode off the dais without a backward glance, as two rather confused men came to either side of Alana and grasped her arms firmly.

"But I didn't get to..."

"You must come with us, Mistress," they said respectfully, quite failing to meet her eyes.

She glanced around, only to see Hari and Sami with expressions of worry creasing their handsome faces. The crowd was holding them back from her.

She glanced around at the throng. They were beautiful, loving, free beings—her eyes passed over Debalhi and Pemalina, who were also looking very concerned. She knew she was doing the right thing.

Raising her head, she nodded at her two guards and allowed them to lead her out of the square towards a small grotto. Head up, back straight, she gave her best impression of Marie Antoinette on the way to the guillotine. Okay—bad analogy. She stumbled slightly. This couldn't possibly be a world that endorsed capital punishment—could it?

She breathed a sigh of relief as they reached what was obviously the Loom. It was being hastily cleaned of its yarns prior to her arrival, and was, indeed, a loom of sorts. The main structure was a free-standing square of about six feet and the strands were wrapped around top to bottom. A moveable bar—the shuttle—would be passed between as the bar moved. She did remember something of that tour she'd taken of early weaving machines. And who said museums never taught anything useful.

Now, however, the Loom was destined for a different purpose. Alana was led to the dais upon which it stood, and placed directly beneath it. Her arms were raised and attached to the top bar by soft ropes, and her feet were pulled apart and attached to a spreader bar—again the cuffs for her ankles were soft and silky. She was not in any pain, but knew the position would probably become uncomfortable if she had to stay there for any length of time.

The last touch was a black silk blindfold.

Deprived of her sight, she felt more vulnerable and a lot more nervous now than she had just moments before.

"Alana West," came the magisterial tones of the Guardian.

"You have refused the privilege of accepting our bounty. We now offer you the chance to change your mind. Should you continue to refuse, punishment will be inflicted—we will not despoil your body, but we will encourage you to see the error of your ways. I ask you now, before the assembled citizens of Anyela, will you accept our terms?"

She straightened her spine and turned in the direction of the Guardian's voice.

"I do not accept these terms. I want to..."

"She refuses," interrupted the Guardian. "The punishment will begin."

Murmurs rumbled through the crowd as Alana felt her clothes being gently removed.

"You will be the object of discipline for our subjects. They are now free to exercise their skills with an assortment of different tools on your body—they are not to penetrate you or bring you to orgasm at any time. To do so is to take your place on the Loom."

Alana heard his footsteps slapping away from her as her mind tried to absorb what he had said.

Tools—she wondered—oh, God, what tools?

She was just about to find out.

"Mistress, this will be difficult for many of us," came a quiet voice at her side.

She heard the soft sounds of movement and then felt a stinging lash across her buttocks. It was some kind of whip.

But there were little knots on the end, and if administered correctly, these knots whipped around her hips and just stung her clit enough to arouse it. Oh
gawd
...

"Mistress, please understand that we do not do this to hurt you," said another voice.

She braced herself.

This time it was a paddle, a sharp slap to her bottom that made her cheeks burn.

Within the space of an hour, she was trembling, her clit aroused to the point of pain and her buttocks on fire.

When several minutes had passed with no more takers for the whips and paddles routine, she allowed herself to slump a little, and dropped her head forward.

"Mistress Alana, may we help you for a few moments? It is allowed—if you would care to use our facilities..."

A tentative touch on her arm roused her.

"That would be most welcome," she said, determined to be as gracious as a naked woman with a red backside could be.

Gentle hands freed her wrists and ankles and helped her off the dais, untying the blindfold as they did.

The light startled her for a moment and she blinked rapidly. There, at either side, were the two women who had captured the hearts of her Genies. They were helping her straighten her cramped muscles as she stretched and groaned.

"Are you all right?" asked Debalhi, her blue eyes worriedly looking over Alana's body.

"I'll live. How long does this go on?"

"We do not know, Mistress." Pemalina glanced up through her blonde lashes as she finished untying the ankle cuffs. "No one has ever been punished on the Loom before—at least not that we remember." She helped Alana walk slowly along a narrow path to a small white building.

It was cool and shady inside, and Alana saw with pleasure that it was both a bathroom and a shower facility. She heaved a sigh of relief as she whisked herself into the private cubicle, only to wince as her sore buttocks touched the cool surface of the seat.

"Ow." she hissed.

"We have a soothing lotion here, it may help. Occasionally we get too much sun and it makes that pain go away. I'm sure it will help soothe your—er—skin," called Debalhi

Alana left the cubicle and moved towards a large counter where water splashed from an ornately carved fish. To her surprise the water was warm and fragrant—she rubbed her hands under it with pleasure.

"Would you like to refresh yourself with a shower?" Debalhi nodded towards the rear of the room where a beautifully tiled area was set aside for the fountain of sparkling and glittering water that was jetting out from high on the wall.

"Would I ever. You guys are lifesavers."

She walked right into the stream of water. One of the advantages of being naked —no time wasted on undressing. She stood and relished the warm droplets that bounced from her shoulders and nose, and used the familiar Blue Lotus soap, that was set in a recessed dish nearby.

Feeling quite human again, except for a rather sore backside, she walked out, toweling herself with one of the soft cloths Pemalina had offered her.

"Lie here, dear—let us put some lotion on your poor cheeks..." Debalhi's worried voice touched Alana's heart and she lay, face down, on her towel that she'd draped over a stone bench.

The touch of their hands and the feel of the lotion were heaven.

"So tell me, guys, how long have you two been in love with Hari and Sami?"

The hands that had been delicately stroking her buttocks froze.

"Alana—I—we, I mean what do you..."

"Oh Jeez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." She looked over her shoulder at two pained faces.

"It's as clear as a bell that you're crazy about them, and they're just as nuts about you."

"You truly think so?"

"Bet my last buck on it..." said Alana definitively.

"What's a buck?"

"Never mind. Just tell me how you came to fall in love with those two sweethearts?"