12 Labors of Hercules, Caged Pt. 12

Then Skye caught it as a sign of destiny: she knew Barbara made Teresa wear stiletto heels, shoes that screamed "Fuck Me!" with every step. Teresa had learned to walk in them, combining gymnastic experiences and many years of dance lessons (in her Latino community dancing every week): she didn't like them at all in daily life, but she knew they were an important ingredient in turning Barbara on in bed. She called them "bed shoes."

They heard the sound of heels. Staggering, Melissa was entering the large room where the Brunch was, and she found herself in front of Richard. He stared into her eyes, not falling into the temptation to look down.

Barbara introduced him to the guest in an official way: "This is Richard, our butler, he is part of the Villa's furniture. That means he hardly ever speaks and is completely harmless-as I have already explained to your husband. By the way: no photographs. I see you have your cell phones, but the Villa is military property, and photographs are strictly forbidden."

The girl could not hold back a giggle after the mention of the furniture. "Richard, after the King of England, Richard the First, aka Lionhearted. May I ask you to explain the origin of your name? Do you also have the heart of a lion under your butler's uniform?"

Richard swallowed hard. He knew he was forbidden explanations, but in this case, it was the guest who had asked. He hesitated, then Barbara interceded for him.

"The regulations of the Villa prohibit the service staff from talking to guests. Richard is not mute, but it is as if he were. Which saves us from listening to boring mansplaining on every subject. Also--he is not allowed to harass ladies, especially guests. But he is very obedient."

"Oh really? Indeed, he will execute every order?"

Barbara looked at the other girls for a moment. Emily shook her head disapprovingly, but Skye nodded vigorously.

Teresa stretched her lips, mimicking the gesture that in South America often means "here, you handle."

Counting one vote against, one vote for, and her vote doubled by Teresa's proxy, Barbara decided it would be fun to see if Richard resisted the temptations of that nearly naked girl at the behest of her exhibitionist husband. Barbara knew that Miss Cathy listened to everything remotely, and if she wanted to intervene she would have already called.

Barbara let out a deep sigh as if she were saying something most important, then said, separating the sentences with long breaths, "our butler...

will obey...

to your every order...

Miss Melissa.

With two limitations, which I want to repeat to your Husband, although I have already told him: 1: Richard is not allowed to undress, because he must remain faithful to his wife who is not present on the island today, and 2: Richard is not a homosexual."

"Then first, I order him to look at me, and formulate a detailed opinion about my new swimsuit."

"Look, yes, but explain, no. He will only be allowed to give a grade from zero to ten, but using a monosyllabic number."

"All right," said the husband, putting his hands on his hips.

§ Chapter 44 The Judgment of Paris.

As Richard, fully dressed as Butler, hesitated in making a judgment, Barbara winked at Skye, and said, in a flirtatious voice, "Miss McDuff, have you ever seen such nicely framed nipples, in all your life? I know our Butler can only provide a numerical judgment, but I, personally, rate them gorgeous, what do you say?"

Skye jumped at the idea and held up the game. In an academic tone she said, "Dear colleague, and leader of our Team, I confirm that I have never seen nipples so erect, in any marble statue."

The husband smiled slyly as if the compliments had been paid directly to him, for showing a thoroughbred horse. He had not realized that the Latina girl who had rescued them on the beach (like Nausicaa with Odysseus) had a flushed forehead and cheeks inflamed with jealousy.

Teresa stood beside the shipwrecked girl near the wall and snapped off her shirt, showing everyone her pierced nipples. Naked, wearing only very short, rain-soaked jeans, the beads of the piercings swayed to her abs that adorned her beautiful tan navel. She looked defiantly at her future wife Barbara and said, "Let's see, if you really have never seen nipples more beautiful than these."

Emily gasped.

The erection under the castaway's costume became increasingly evident, in contrast to Richard's flat flaccid condition. But while the castaway's face flaunted a broad smile, the butler's face was contracted, as if something uncomfortable was clutching an anatomical organ.

All according to plan. Barbara pouted as if mortally offended by even the mere idea that Teresa might feel jealous.

Skye said, "Mr. Castaway, you will agree with me, that to make an honest comparison, one would have to have the same frame. Right? Do you perhaps have a second swimsuit (I don't know if that is the right name for these very thin strings) with which to frame our Teresa?"

The Castaway looked up from below at the redhead but did not say a word.

The young wife replied, "I have a second costume, the same but green with silver embroidery. It is in my summer rope bag, left in the hall."

"May I?"

"Of course."

Skye returned holding a few green laces joined by a pair of rings of thin light wood. They were two very wide rings that would frame Teresa's piercings without the need to remove them.

"Will you wear them for us, Contestant Number Two?" Skye grinned mercilessly.

Teresa grunted, "For your information, I've stripped and pegged in front of dozens of lesbians, I'm certainly not embarrassed to wear a skimpy swimsuit in front of a dripping wet castaway and our butler."

Barbara intervened. "Right, precisely. Mr. Castaway, you are wearing a wet suit, but this is likely to distract you from making a fair and calm judgment. Would you please follow Dr. McDuff to the junior suite? He will give her a new dry swimsuit, which she will wear for us as her "official judging uniform."

It was a ploy to prevent a stranger from staring at Teresa as she stripped naked. But it was also a trick: in Skye's room, there were no male swimsuits! She opened a drawer, grabbed the underside of an acid green bikini, and tossed it to him, then closed the door to grant him a tiny bit of privacy.

After a few minutes-perhaps a little too many minutes, but who knows, maybe she had used the bathroom, too-the castaway exited the junior suite. The bikini bottom was long enough at the front to contain the flaccid penis, but at the back, it consisted only of a g-string that slid between his buttocks, like a "mankini."

Skye politely asked, "Is my bikini uncomfortable for you, sir?"

The man smiled. "No, you assured me that the butler is not gay, although I don't understand how he can control his erection, in front of the sight of my almost naked wife. But I am not embarrassed to wear your Judge's Uniform, in France, we have several nudist camps and it is very normal for me."

"Very well, then let's go, our contestants are waiting."

Skye had worn sandals with a short heels and was noticeably taller than the nearly naked man following her. She swayed her hips as she walked, moving her long skirt, knowing that the voyeur was staring at her.

She was aware of this effect and was almost hypnotizing him, leading him as if through an invisible leash.

Skye walked slowly toward the Brunch room, where young Melissa and muscular Teresa were standing at attention, ready to be inspected.

They wore the same outfit, but could not have looked more different.

Melissa was sweet, with longer, more feminine hair, a soft tummy furrowed by the costume's stretched elastic, which obscenely crossed her pussy showing her clitoris unashamedly. The nipples, pink and of tiny girth, protruded inside the two dark blue wooden rings, like two rosebuds that had not yet bloomed. The sweet little feet were sheathed in high stiletto heeled shoes that screamed "Fuck Me" at every moment.

At her side, Teresa looked like a veteran of a war against an army of orcs. Her jaw tensed, her hair short, her abs taut: on her hips, she seemed to be the one tormenting and stressing the costume, not vice versa. Her clit pushed the fabric but without coming out: almost as if she wanted to show the fabric who was boss of the situation. The two nipples, dark and very large, housed two silver piercings, each adorned with a dangling strand of three beads that bounced against the wood of the frame with each breath. Barefoot, she looked more like a gladiatrix (like Britney Spears, Beyonce, and P!nk in the soda commercial) than a slave.

At that sight, the castaway felt the costume tuck even further into his buttocks as his flaccid penis was gaining more and more erection, subtracting tissue.

Richard, on the other hand, continued to flaunt his smooth pants completely inert, as if he had not the slightest erection: although his face betrayed suffering and tension.

Miss Barbara was still seated on her high bar stool, wearing high heels and her elegant dress. She descended very gracefully, held out her hand to the castaway, and smiled at him.

"You see, Mr. Castaway - like Ulysses - Teresa and I are almost married, in the sense that we are going to be married soon, and all our colleagues here know that and have seen us kiss dozens of times, and other things as well. You told me that you are also married, although you don't wear the wedding ring -- but I know that many people on boats don't wear it to prevent it from slipping, so, I have no reason to doubt your status as husband and wife.

I would like to propose a pact if you both agree: I will try to get my Teresa excited, to make her wonderful nipples and glistening pussy shine to their best advantage, and you will do the same with your Melissa, to make her buds, which at this moment still seem to me to be intimidated by the presence of so much public, blossom. Perhaps young Melissa is not used to being exposed in public... But here we are among friends, it's a brunch among university professors, and our Butler is completely harmless, I assure you."

"What if I don't want to?" asked the castaway, contradicting the erection that was growing with every word.

"Hospitality in Greece is sacred. The junior suite you have just seen is all yours. You will find a shower and a Jacuzzi and a couple of beds. I will give you the key and you can be safe, away from our eyes, as husband and wife. But..."

And here Barbara gave a mischievous little smile, making her deep blue eyes sparkle

"But if I interpret your look correctly, hubby, and the quiver I saw on your wifey's nipples, I think you two would enjoy a little moment of exhibitionism in front of a group of women and their harmless butler. I can even offer you a Safeword: if one of you says "Alexandria," let's interrupt everything, shall we? Anyway... Help should arrive in two hours, if you want, you can lock yourselves in your rooms and no one will disturb you, we will say a deferential goodbye and each will continue on their way."

In silence, Melissa looked at Jean-Claude, begging.

What was she begging for? Was she begging to be masturbated in front of these strangers, or was she begging to be taken safely to the Jacuzzi to be alone and fuck away from prying eyes?

The castaway said to her, "Wife..."

She would have liked to reply, "You decide what makes you happiest, my love. I swore that I would wear this gift of yours, and nothing else (shoes do not cover it, therefore, are acceptable)."

But their pact was not to talk to each other. It had been Angela the psychologist's advice, and so far it had brought good luck.

Melissa smiled and uttered only three monosyllables. "Kiss. Me. Now."

The brain of a professional grammarian might have objected that the three monosyllables, although interrupted by obvious punctuation, constituted a sentence. And not just any sentence like "there's too much salt" or "it's going to rain soon," but a real order of a sexual nature with profound moral and ethical implications.

But Jean-Claude was not thinking with his brain that day. His cock held the helm that day, tightly gripping the reins of his body: and his cock was already wet from a drop of precum, which had stained his newly borrowed bottom bikini.

He embraced Melissa and gave her a long kiss on the mouth, twirling his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned as she spread her arms wide to embrace him.

But Skye gave her a little slap on the hand. "No hands, from the maiden contestants. It's not like we're at a nun pageant: the contestants will hold their wrists behind their backs, to allow the judges and audience to examine the evolving situation. And, please, Mr. Shipwreck, would you mind stepping back? With your body obstructing us, we can't see the contestant's nipples."

A short distance away, Barbara was showing how it should be done: with her legs far back, and her calves stretched out on her high heels, she had leaned one hand against the wall behind Teresa: with her mouth, she kissed her chest, while with one finger she stroked her labia.

Jean-Claude immediately complied. With a step back, he allowed everyone (even Butler) to see Melissa's pink nipples turgid and darkening as he licked and sucked them. With his right hand, he stroked her shaved pussy, then slowly slipped two fingers inside her, one on each side of the elastic fabric. With each movement of his fingers, the costume rubbed her clit, causing a series of moans and groans.

Barbara was less efficient (perhaps she had decided to lose on purpose) and Teresa did not want to give her satisfaction, so she tried to vocalize as little as possible: she was still offended by the jealousy from earlier.

Emily was staring at the naked buttocks of the male castaway, but not at him: she was fantasizing about the naked body of the man she was in love with, and wondering if he would ever titillate her in front of her friends like that (the very idea made her wet).

Skye kept a watchful eye, looking more at the butler than at the two exhibitionist couples. But Richard managed to say nothing, manifesting uncommon self-control.

Skye's phone began to vibrate silently. It was Miss Cathy. The message read, "Skye before Richard has to make his judgment, turn on the screen, that I want to say something to the two castaways. I will be fully clothed, don't worry."

Meanwhile, it was evident that Barbara had deliberately given up on Teresa's nipples: she had gotten down on her knees and was eating her pussy in front of everyone. Instead, Jean-Claude continued to focus on Melissa's boobs, perhaps to try to equalize the handicap created by the absence of piercings. Reminder to Jean-Claude: calmly agree with Melissa to pierced nipples as a birthday present.

After a time that seemed endless to Melissa and Teresa, Skye decided it was time to give the two poor girls exposed standing against the wall a break. Melissa's knees were shaking, over stiletto-heeled shoes, and Teresa's grunts were getting louder even as she tried to stifle them out of pride.

Jean-Claude's cock was fully visible under the taut swimsuit, his balls dangled freely, and a large stain of precum was visible on the fabric covering the knob.

Skye had a referee's voice. "Stop the two trainers! The contestant girls please, take a breath. Step back, anyone...thank you all, I think I speak for all the spectators when I say it was a great show.

Speaking of spectators, we have also a remote spectator from the University who would like to say a word of blessing to you... ladies and gentlemen, here is our Butler's wife."

Skye turned on the big screen. Cathy appeared, wearing a purple suit and pink blouse, sitting elegantly at her desk as if for a financial meeting.

Richard feared she was trying to force him to show his caged cock to these strangers, and perhaps he was too embarrassed to do so, and perhaps they were not ready for such a display: they were just two honest castaways, not the willing customers of a fetish club.

But, as always, Cathy had other plans.

"Good morning and welcome to our castaways. I am the wife of Richard, whom you have met today as Butler, and I want to confess to you that he and I have an agreement: he is not to get aroused without my permission. That is why the Scholars have told you that he is harmless. Now, dear husband, you want to grade the nipples, without overdoing the mansplaining, it will be enough for you to assign each one a number from zero to ten."

Reading from her own cell phone, Skye said, imitating the voice of the Oscar awards ceremony:

"For best nipple pierced, Latina muscular lesbian category, nominee Miss Teresa, what vote do you want to give?"

"Nine." Everyone cheered.

"For the best virginal nipple, category young chilled Castaway, nominee Miss Melissa, what vote do you want to give?"

Melissa intervened offended. "I am not Virgo!" she said, "I am Capricorn." It became clear to all that the young woman was not familiar with Eastern Mediterranean mythologies. But Skye continued like a TV presenter. "Where were we? Category young wet by the rain castaway nipple, as above, your vote please?"

"Nine!" Great rejoicing: the couple hugged each other happily.

Skye continued, in a flat voice. "Do you have any votes left to cast, Butler?"

"Yes, Miss Skye, thank you for this opportunity. For the best nipple ever seen in my entire life, a category all women in the Universe, nominated my wife, vote ten."

Skye looked at him suspiciously, "isn't that flattery trying to get... Something for you?"

But Cathy laughed. "No, Skye, honestly, that's a phrase he used to say to me when we were first married, I just wanted to check if he remembered the words. Hehehe... he still remembers.

Good, that's enough reminiscing now. Barbara and Teresa, get a room, it is intolerable to see you standing against a wall knowing that you have a junior suite all to yourselves.

Dear castaway guests, Skye will come back here to this room to talk to me, after she has walked you to the door of the junior suite you already know, you will have the key and all privacy, there are no cameras on. And congratulations on your choice not to speak -- words often distract the mouth from doing much more important things, but I see you already know that.

Emily, please dear, escort my husband to his room, and if you are in the mood, make yourself comfortable -- sit anywhere you like, you KNOW what I mean.

My advice is that in the different rooms you can wait for help separately, everyone can relax while it's still raining outside, and thank you all for sharing this moment."

TO BE CONTINUED.

### Dear Reader, with Comments you can help improve this one. What will happen on the Island? Will the wife assign a girl to release her husband's cage? And which girl? And in which way?

Although I do not respond immediately all comments are greatly appreciated. Please bear with the mistakes, English is not my native language.###