Message-ID: <31749asstr$996613802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@slb3.atl.mindspring.net> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Taoman" <thomhobs@NOSPAMhotmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <9k60j0$f0f$1@slb3.atl.mindspring.net> X-Server-Date: 31 Jul 2001 10:17:04 GMT X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2479.0006 Subject: {ASSM} Master's Island 20/21 Date: Tue, 31 Jul 2001 17:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/31749> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates REV Master's Island 20 {Taoman} {Mf+, oral, anal, bi, spanking} Master's Island copyright @2000 Taoman. The right of Taoman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988 Author's Note: This is the complete final revised version. I am sorry for any reader's frustration that may have occurred due to the previous version's many problems. I suggest you delete any other MASTER'S ISLAND files you have archived. Thanks go to Morgan for his patient editorial assistance in the completion of this. The complete version can be found at storiesonline.net (a free and non-commercial site). Please take time to rate the story while there. Comments: thomhobs@hotmail.com Chapter 20 The wind shifted and gusted through the hut. There was a flash of lightning followed by the distant roll of thunder. I sleepily became aware of an approaching storm. The fresh cool breeze played across our intertwined slumbering forms. Jennifer stirred, took a deep breath and curled deeper into the crook of my arm. Either Brittany or Kimberly's lushness was tightly pressed against my back. I could feel the strong beat of her heart. I gently rolled over. It was Kimberly. I slid a hand up her side to her breast. Filling my hand with its fullness I ran my thumb across a fat nipple. The lightning flashed again and our eyes met. She moved into me, gripped my erection and began a slow pumping. "We will need to be quiet and not wake the girls," shewhispered. I pushed her to her back and mounted her. We kissed and she guided me into her silken heat. We made slow love, both attempting to muffle our passion. When Kimberly came I placed my hand across her mouth and she bit me. Then minutes later when she came again I followed her. We kissed and silently screamed into the other's mouth. Afterwards I disentangled myself from various female limbs, took her by the hand and stepped outside to observe the coming front. It was a dark cloudy night full of churning movement and electricity. We walked to the surf line and watched a majestic war of Gods on the far horizon. We stood at the edge of the world. Shallow spent waves swirled around our feet as the tide crested and ebbed. Silently we held the other and both felt a new wholeness. * * * Taylor, Jennifer and Brittany had left early that morning to go hunting, leaving Kimberly behind. It was evident that her talents were more domestic than hunting. She was finishing a large mat she had working on for several days. It was her most ambitious undertaking in that it was the joining of two large mats. She planned to fill the cavity with soft grasses. She knew it would be much more comfortable than the flat mats they used now. She enjoyed the near meditative state she reached while weaving. In this frame of mind she was able to gain a detached perspective of the island life. Kimberly had come to appreciate her time alone. She had grown into her new responsibilities and place in the social structure gaining self-satisfaction in being submissive. Pleasing Taylor gave her a deep pleasure. Even acts she once would found degrading now thrilled. She thought that was the key to her enjoyment. Before with Andrew Holt there had ultimately been no love, only taking. It was the love that made the difference. She thought that was the key to her enjoyment. Taylor still delighted in making Brittany and her perform. She wouldn't tell him she had come to enjoy it. As for her little sister she always anticipated sex and did not seem to care with whom. She had come to enjoy performing cunnilingus. Jennifer had slowly stopped being so cruel and had even started reciprocating pleasure when they made love. Kimberly smiled woefully and moved her jaw back and forth. "Thank God for that," she thought to herself, "the little minx nearly wore out my face." Her relationship with Taylor had deepened beyond the two younger girls. There was empathy between them related to their ages. Taylor seemed to seek her company when he was in camp. He was an amazing lover and wanted her constantly. Yesterday he had made love to her three times. He had been powerfully demanding and she had been completely overwhelmed by his passion. At the memory her fingers fumbled and she had to pause and take a deep breath. She felt unspoken warmth in their relationship. Giving herself to him was as natural as the life they lived here. She had found her Lord and Master and for once in her life she was truly happy. She heard footsteps approaching and was surprised at the hunter's early return. She turned to greet them. An armed young man stood above her. He was dark skinned but with oriental features. He brought up his gun and set the barrel between her breasts. He grinned. We had found the necessity to hunt farther and farther from our base camp as the game became more aware of our threat. The porcine rodent animals had become scarce and for red meat we had to hunt other primates. The monkeys would now start a shrieking alarm at the first sight of us and then rapidly disappear into the distant canopy. We had correspondingly adapted and now split up. Jennifer would hide in ambush with her spear and Brittany and I would circle to drive the prey toward her. This hunting took more time, effort and patience. On this day it was early afternoon before we were satisfied with our catch. We were approaching the camp from the jungle when the leading Jennifer halted and held up her hand and signaled caution/quiet. Brittany and I immediately froze and listened. Then I heard the faint sounds of sharp foreign voices. The three of us blended into the foliage and crawled silently to the proximity of the camp. The alien sight of the intrusion of strangers in our world was jarring to my sense of order. Two armed partially uniformed men were standing over a prostrate and cowering Kimberly. Both men held AK-47s at an attentive ready-arms position. Then a third stepped from the hut. The group had an air of menace about them and I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. I instinctively shrank lower into the underbrush as this individual methodically scanned the beach and then the jungle. The still smoking campfire had evidently been the draw for these visitors. I saw their means of arriving beached in the surf. It was an ancient looking patrol craft. The bleached and chipped painted insignia on the bow was unfamiliar to me. The men had a swarthy oriental look to them. The darkness of their skin suggested Polynesian but they were too short and slender for that race. Their faded khaki uniforms were worn and mismatched. My attempt of national origin determination was abruptly forgotten when the evidently senior member of the trio barked a guttural question at Kimberly and then brutally kicked her in the ribs. The other's laughed as the naked beauty twisted in agonized pain at their feet. I heard one of the girl's gasp and I turned my head to see a rising Brittany, drawing her machete and poising to charge to the rescue. I made a nearly inaudible hiss. Brittany jerkily rotated her head toward me. Her eyes were dilated and wild with angry fear. I shook my head in an urgent negative fashion and motioned her down. The expression on her face changed to an anguished dismay as she realized the futility of a rescue attempt against the heavily armed men. I motioned for the girls to fall back. We regrouped minutes later in the depth of the jungle. Brittany was nearly hysterical with a frantic anxiety. I held her trembling form in my arms and whispered for her to take "deep breaths" and "that right now her sister needed her to be very brave" I had improvised a quick plan if for no other reason than to give the girls something to focus on. It was very simple. We needed to wait until dark to make our move. I frantically weighed our options and attempted to think out a plan. Against the evidently trained and heavily armed soldiers we had no immediate chance that I could see. I was glad the two young girls obeyed me. I hoped their survival learning would hold true. I had a terrible premonition that the next few hours would be awful. Drastic or rash action must be held in check until we had an opportunity to rescue Kimberly. With coming darkness we had split up and approached the camp from two different angles. I had over emphasized my strict order "that no matter what happened in that camp they were to do nothing until I signaled." That was my new plan. I wanted to somehow draw the soldiers from Kimberly toward me and give the teens a chance to come in from behind and grab her. It was a dangerous move but all I could think of. The next hours built into an eternity of horror. This trio was not on any kind of official mission. It appeared to be some kind of drunken overnight misadventure and the finding of Kimberly was just added fun. The men had been drinking heavily since I had first seen them. Their demeanor had grown progressively uncontrolled and frightening. They had initially attempted to get their new "guest" to drink with them by forcing what by Kimberly's resulting reaction was a vile liquid down her throat. Bored with this they had used their fists on her. Then when all she could do was lie in a cowering ball at their feet, they kicked her. Then they raped her one after another. Kimberly's tormentor's needs were beyond simple lust. They seemed to have a raw animal hatred for her. They were not be satisfied with having passive sex with a completely subdued woman, but seemed more excited if she struggled. As time past they were becoming more inventive in their attempts to goad a reaction from her. I lay helpless in the darkness. These "soldiers" had a degree of military training. Their weapons hung loosely "at ready" from their shoulders. I knew the way they habitually touched and checked the positioning of their piece meant familiarity. Finally the more senior of the trio had become bored with the fun. Earlier in the light I had seen him carefully scan the jungle several times. I was sure he was suspicious Kimberly was not alone. But as he had gotten more intoxicated his caution had faded. He had laughingly encouraged his younger charges to continue and taking a bottle in one hand and his weapon in the other had headed into the dark hut. I saw him enter the doorway and immediately collapse to our mats. As time slowly passed I realized he was certainly out cold in there. The two remaining men had grown bored with their worn-out source of amusement. One leaned his AK-47 against a palm, picked up a bamboo pole from our building material and flexed it. He laughingly told his comrade something. The other looked up from urinating and yelled back. The first approached her and using his foot he rolled Kimberly over to her stomach. "Oh, shit," I said. He began roughly poking the bamboo between Kimberly's buttocks as he attempted to find her anus. She was not unconscious and she responded by crying and attempting to squirm away from the intrusion. The other man had approached and placed his foot on her neck, driving her face deeply into the loose sand. Her struggles grew frantic as she was suffocated. I had found a perfectly rounded stone in the streambed months ago and kept it aside in my pouch because of its heft and symmetry. During the past hours I had tightly held this golf ball sized rock in my sweaty palm as I lay impotently in the darkness. I realized the time had come and made my decision. I fit the stone in the slingshot's pouch and I checked my machete on my belt. I arose from the darkness and walked purposively into the firelight. As I approached I brought the weapon up and pulled the sling taut. I steadily aligned it the face of the one facing me. He was busy grinding Kimberly's face deeper in the sand. I wanted to get as close as possible for the surest shoot I could get. My feet swished in the sand. He looked up. His slack grin changed to alarm and he reached down to the ready automatic weapon at his side. My months of hunting had paid off. I unleashed the stone. There was a solid TWACK of bone being pulverized. The stone was half buried dead center of his forehead. His eyes bulged and collapsed down hard. The other soldier, busy with his bamboo, looked up, saw his comrade and then twisted toward me. His misplaced weapon was yards away. He lunged for it. Neither of us could gain purchase as we scurried in the loose sand. I thought for a moment of the similarity between the back of his head and a coconut. That was just the way I used my machete to split his skull when I caught him. Not breaking stride I spun and ran back to the motionless Kimberly. I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head up from the sand. Her face was a mask of sand. Frantically I dug the sand from her mouth. I reached behind her and thumped the middle of her back. She coughed a spurt of sand and two frightened big blue eyes opened on the blank sand face and looked at me. The weariness softened as she recognized me. Then changed again to alarm, as she looked behind me. I heard motion and had started to turn when the back of my head was hit with blinding shock. I realized I was lying down as a continuously and annoying hard rapping on my forehead brought me up out of a black unawareness. I complained and opened my eyes. The starry grayness of the night sky was filled with the huge vast black hole of an AK-47 resting between my eyes. The remaining soldier stood above me and screamed shrill commands as he scanned the jungle. He pushed the barrel hard against my head and screamed again. I watched in a perverse fascination as his finger whitened with pressure on the trigger. Then his finger twitched and I thought I should be dead. But the sound I heard had not been a retort, but an odd slap. The cold metal pressure against my forehead fell away. He grunted and I felt him fall next to me. I turned my head and we looked into each other's eyes. I noticed he had sand grains on his iris. His tongue slowly protruded from his teeth and he coughed out a spray of blood. He blinked and was dead. I closed my eyes. * * * The sun was coming up. The headache I had kept bringing me out of a blessed state of unconsciousness. I turned my head and saw the furrow in the sand were the girls had dragged me to the hammock. Three dead men where clustered at the point where the trail began. The officer was twisted in an odd position. Jennifer's spear transfixed his back and continued out a foot from his chest and into the sand. "We found some aspirin in the boat." Kimberly told me as she held out some white tablets. I gulped down the pills and took a drink of water. I heard them discussing a radio and the slow realization dawned on me that the craft had a short wave. I heard Brittany telling Jennifer it was just like her dad's "CB". I felt a cool caresses on my forehead and turned my face. Kimberly was peering into my eyes. Her left eye was swollen shut, her nose was probably broken and when she smiled I could see a bad laceration on her lip "Hey hero." She said softly. "They almost got us didn't they?" She laid her head on my chest and as I felt her tears on my skin. The excitement in Jennifer's voice made me look up. "I am talking to someone in English!" She was screaming in joy. A moment later Brittany came running up and asked me "What kind of boat is the Kitty Hawk?" I started to laugh. "You girls had better be ready to go native. Start gathering grasses for skirts. The way you look now might cause a mutiny." I continued to laugh. It made my head pound but I couldn't stop. "What is so funny?" Brittany quizzically asked me. "Oh I was just wondering were we would find a coconut in a big enough cup size to fit your sister," I choked. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+