Castaways of New Purgatory Ch. 02

(IN THE LAST CHAPTER: Boston private eye Karen Solomon is kidnapped, stripped naked, drugged with an aphrodisiac, and kept by herself on a ship, where she helplessly masturbates. She awakens, still naked, on a tropical island. At first she believes she's alone, then she hears a voice.)

Karen whirled, her right hand reflexively covering her pubic area, her left stretching across her chest to hide her nipples. It took a moment for her sun-blinded eyes to find the source of the voice in the heavy shadows beneath the palms.

A young woman emerged from the trees. Like Karen, she was also completely naked. Her skin was deeply tanned, and she gleamed with sweat, which made her look almost as if she were made of shining wood. Her nipples were darker brown , with leathery aureolas. Her body hair was thick and untended, from the black hair on her lower legs to the thick ebony curls between her thighs. Long dark tufts peeked out from her underarms. The hair on her head was a mare's nest of tangles, with leaves and twigs stuck in places. She looked wild, but she'd spoken English.

"Who are you?" Karen demanded, but her voice sounded shaky and pathetic.

Despite everything, the woman had a serene, peaceful quality. "I'm Sister Agnes," she said, as if they'd met on a city street somewhere. "I know how confused you must be. Let me help you."

"Agnes Cheever?" Karen asked. "Sister Agnes Cheever of St. Mary's in Boston?"

The girl nodded.

Karen began to laugh at the absurdity. "You won't believe this, but your parents hired me to find you."

The girl's serene expression darkened. "You mean they don't believe I'm dead?"

Karen shook her head, still giggling like a madwoman. "No, they don't. I'm Karen Solomon. I'm a private detective they hired to find you. They believed you'd been kidnapped, which was right. They thought it had to be white slavers or something. They never guessed your own Church had done it."

Agnes' lip trembled, and for a moment she seemed about to cry. Then she recovered her composure. "I'm sad for that. It would be better if they believed I was dead." She looked down and, without meeting Karen's eyes, asked, "How long have I been missing?"

"You disappeared two years ago."

She nodded. "Then my little ad hoc calendar is fairly accurate."

Karen licked her dry lips. The sun on her shoulders seemed to have physical weight, and sweat stung her eyes. "Where the hell are we, Agnes?"

Agnes looked up, eyes shiny with tears, but managed a smile. "I have no idea. It's an island, I know that. Somewhere in the tropics, as you can no doubt tell. Let's get you out of this sun, you'll be red as a lobster before long."

She stepped close and gently pulled Karen's left hand away. Until she did so, Karen had not realized she was, in fact, squeezing that breast and enjoying the sensation of her palm flat against her nipple. Agnes threaded her own fingers through Karen's and guided her toward the shadows beneath the trees.

Karen studied the other woman's bare body. Every muscle was starkly visible, not developed as if she'd been working out, but the way someone looked when they lost all their body fat. Her breasts were small but full, and her behind rippled with each step. Smears of dirt and sweat covered her, though, and a small cloud of gnats rose from her tangled hair.

They passed a tree marked with a cross cut crudely into the bark, and ahead Karen saw another one. Judging from the clear dirt beneath their bare feet, the trail was well-traveled, and in a short time they reached their destination: a lean-to made of branches, leaves and vines over the mouth of a small cave. To one side, a deep, dark pool of water bubbled up from a spring. This was all in the shade of a huge rock outcropping that rose higher than the treetops. It was cooler in the shade, but the humidity was still overwhelming.

Agnes stood to one side and gestured into the shelter. Karen crouched and entered. She sat on a floor made of soft moss, and Agnes crawled in behind her. In the close, still air, Karen could smell the other woman's sweaty, unwashed body.

"The water in the spring is safe to drink," Agnes said. "Be careful of your exposure to the sun until your tan catches up." She put one nut-brown arm against Karen's pale one for comparison. "It'll take you awhile."

"I don't plan to be here long enough to get a tan," Karen said. "First I need to find some clothes, and then get back to civilization."

Agnes smiled. "Believe it or not, that's what all of them say at first."

It took Karen a moment to comprehend the meaning of the words. "Who are 'all of them'?"

"The other castaways. Politicians, writers, academics. Some lawyers and police officers. At least one military officer."

Karen blushed at the thought that these men might see her naked. And the thought also sent an unexpected, undeniable surge of arousal through her that left her nipples hard and tingled between her legs. What the hell was wrong with her? "If there's that many men here--"

"There are no men here, Karen. Only women. All those people I mentioned are female. All marooned here naked, like you and me."

Karen felt panic welling in her chest, displacing the horniness. "Why?" she asked as a whisper.

Karen brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair from Karen's face. "They posed a threat to the Church. The male power structure could not accept any serious challenges to their authority, but at the same time, there was a serious edict against killing. It *is* one of the commandments, after all. So this," she gestured around her, "is the alternative. A place to get troublesome women out of the way. Out of the world."

Karen began to tremble. This was madness, it couldn't be true...could it?

Agnes scooted closer and put her hand on Karen's shoulder. The sense of skin on skin made Karen shudder, and vivid memories of her time on the ship rushed back with a vengeance. She tried to speak but no words would come out.

Agnes looked into her eyes. "I understand," she said compassionately.

"Understand what?" Karen managed to croak. Her breasts suddenly felt heavy and tender, and she was hypersensitive between her legs. The urge to touch herself, as she'd done for days on her trip here, was almost more than she could resist.

Agnes's hand trailed down Karen's upper arm. "The drugs they gave you on the ship are still affecting you. I understand, because they gave the same one to me. I lay in that same room, on that same grimy mattress, doing the same things you did. I couldn't resist it; no woman could. They know that."

Karen felt tears well in her eyes. "I wanted to fight it," she said in a shuddering whisper. "I wanted to try to escape. But I just couldn't stop...."

"And that's its purpose, to keep us occupied," Agnes said. She moved a hand to Karen's cheek and wiped away a tear. "It does wear off, but it can take time. Days, if you fight it. But if you indulge it...." She lowered her hand and rested her fingertips feather-light on the upper curve of Karen's breast. "It burns away much faster."

Karen looked into the nun's calm, comforting eyes. Agnes ran the pad of her thumb over Karen's now-rock-hard nipple.

"This isn't...I shouldn't...I have to get moving," Karen said, her head spinning. She felt herself grow wet again, and her belly tingled the way it did just before.... "Have to find help, clothes, something...."

"You're free to go, of course. But I think you should really consider how your body feels right now. It won't get less...uncomfortable for several days, if we don't burn it out of your system." She leaned closer, and Karen could smell the nun's heavy, vaguely fruit-scented breath. "But I'm offering to help you get through this immediate torment more quickly than you can on your own." To emphasize this, Agnes very gently put her thumb and forefinger around Karen's nipple and squeezed.

"Oh, god," Karen said in a shuddering whisper. Her breasts felt heavier than ever, their unsupported weight pulling her down into the other woman's hand. Karen had never felt so female in her life.

"I know," Agnes said sadly. "I felt the same way when I arrived."

Karen closed her eyes and leaned close, her breasts now brushing against Agnes's. The touch of another's skin, the thing that she'd ached for so much on the ship, was irresistible. "I'm not a lesbian, Agnes," she said, her cheek against the nun's. "I've never...."

"Nor am I." She kissed Karen lightly, almost chastely, on the lips. "Like you, I'm a castaway. A prisoner here. But I am still, as a daughter of Christ, obligated to help those less fortunate."

Karen, her eyes still closed, tried to continue the kiss, opening her mouth and extending her tongue, but she found only air. Agnes had turned away.

"No kisses," Agnes said. "This is not about love. It's about kindness. Now...lie back. The moss is soft."

Agnes guided Karen down, onto her back. As she promised, the moss was soft against her spine and shoulders. Agnes stretched out beside her, and Karen's body ached with response to the sensation of another's flesh reclined against her own. Their mutually sweaty limbs slid against each other, and Karen felt the crush of Agnes's thick pubic hair against her hip.

Agnes rested a hand on Karen's heaving stomach, sliding it in the sweat that covered her. "I need to warn you. Your responses may be...extreme. The drugs render your most sensitive areas even more sensitive, and as a result...you will experience things more strongly than you ever thought possible. Do you understand this?"

Karen could barely choke out the word, "Yes."

She felt Agnes move down, then slowly guide her feet apart. *Oh, my God,* Karen thought, *she can't, I haven't bathed, she mustn't, I'm not this way, I can't--*

Agnes knelt between Karen's legs. She leaned forward and her rough hands cupped Karen's vulva. The detective tossed her head, tried to protest, but the sensation was too vivid, her body's need too strong. She reached her right hand down toward her raging vagina, the way she'd done on the ship, but Agnes easily brushed it away. "You poor dear," Agnes said, and then Karen's whole body spasmed at the first light, flicking touch of the nun's tongue on her labia.

Karen had never experienced cunnilingus from another woman, not even when her college roommate suggested it one drunken evening. It was like being stroked with a wet feather, one that knew just when to press hard and when to withdraw. She made sounds that were delicious to her own ears, whimpers and moans of arousal and completion, desire and orgasm, that left her throat raw and jagged. She squeezed her own breasts roughly, and pinched her nipples with a viciousness that made her growl.

Once she rose to look down the length of her body and watched Agnes's head bob between her widely-spread legs. With her crown of dark, tangled hair, she looked like some wild, tribal priestess initiating a neophyte in the mysteries of women. Beyond, the nun's bare ass rose in the air. It was perfect, Karen realized, taut and round like an apple, even shiny like a fresh fruit. Then a large insect of some kind landed on it. Without breaking her rhythm, Agnes reached back and swatted it away. The smack of hand on flesh made Karen come.

She had never been so wet, she realized. She was soaked, molten, and when she came she felt her juices surge forward, like a porn actress in one of those disgusting "squirting" videos one of her old boyfriends like. Yet there was no stopping or controlling it. She felt open enough to take a baseball bat.

When Karen could again focus, Agnes' was watching her. The lower part of her face was hidden by Karen's own groin and neatly-trimmed pubic hair. The nun rose slightly, her lips and chin wet with Karen's juices. "Are you feeling better?"

"Oh, god, yes," Karen said, rising on her elbows. The air was heavy and damp, just like her body. Her naked body. Like Agnes's naked body. "Now, please, let me--"

"No," Agnes said firmly. She kissed the inside of one of Karen's thighs. "I need nothing from you, my friend. I only want you to be free of the influence of their obscene drugs." And before Karen could reply, Agnes bent and sucked on her clitoris.

"Oh, my god!" Karen cried, and her hands dug into the soft moss. She couldn't come this hard, not after all that time on the ship, not after everything the little nun's tongue had already put her through. But she did, moaning incoherently and arching her back as an orgasm greater than anything she'd ever experienced roared through her.

She passed out then, although her body continued to shudder even in her sleep. Agnes wiped her chin and knelt between her legs, watching the pale, sweaty form. She arranged Karen's legs for sleep, then went to the spring outside, drank and washed her face. It was close to sundown, which meant a night of vicious insects that vastly preferred the flesh of the new arrivals to those of long-term residents like Agnes. But there was no avoiding it.

Agnes bowed her head and thanked God for another day of life, even here, even now. And within the shelter, Karen moaned in her sleep.

(To be continued)