Enchanted Ch. 14

Wounded, exhausted, and suffering a victory that feels more like a defeat, John just wants to escape the accursed island. His victory isn't complete though... it still might destroy him.

"Watch out!" Red snapped as she leapt over John and landed on the bench with the second set of oars. "Steff, on me, left... left... left... left."

Steff matched her oar with Red and turned the long boat around. Once they had the bow running parallel to shore Red started calling for the right side every third stroke. They pulled along the shore and then away in an arc that brought them close to the sunken ship. Both women were breathing hard and sweating as they came up on the far side of the Red Witch.

The ladder was dropped and Red climbed up first. She barked out orders to drop a fresh bowline for the boat and bring it around to the other side and get it stowed. John climbed up the ladder, his staff tucked between his left arm and his side while he used his right to hold onto the swaying ladder. Steff came last, moving faster even with her wooden leg than John.

Sasha strode across the deck, her hair unruly from sleep. She wore a thin cloak that only fell to her knees. Red turned to her and then turned away. She grabbed John as he came over the edge and pulled him forward, then turned and pushed him toward Sasha. "Tend to his wounds, Sash. We're sailing now."

"What happened?" Sasha asked. Her eyes darted to Steff as she crested the gunwale and threw her peg over and then stood up.

Steff stared down over the railing for a moment before turning back and barking at the nearest sailors to get down into the long boat and bring it around to the other side. She saw the man running forward with a coil of rope sized for the boat and motioned for him to hurry up and drop it in while others where shimmying down the ladder.

"Later," Red snapped. "I've got the helm. I need John ready to get us back down the stream."

John stopped. "Wait, we're leaving?" he asked. "What about—"

"We've got enough," Red snapped. "It's not worth losing anyone else."

Sasha searched the deck before turning and grabbing John's arm. He hissed as she pulled his arm and aggravated the gouges in his back. He went with her, afraid she'd yank his arm off if he didn't. She led him across the deck and into a small cabin across from the ship's galley.

"Lose your robe and lay down," she said.

John struggled to get it up and over his head. He hissed as his robe scraped across his wound and then again when he had to move his arm to pull his robe all the way off. He let I fall to the floor and crawled up onto the table and lay down on his belly.

"Five gouges," Sasha said while she pulled out a flask and shook it a little before pulling the stopped out. "Claws? Must have been something big. Troll?"

"I don't—" John's words turned into a hiss as she poured rum over the wound. He panted and swore before catching his breath and finishing, "—know. I don't know. We couldn't see them, it was too dark. Big...furry though. Heads like... I don't know, a wolf or dog? But they walked like a man."

"These need stitches," Sasha said. "Red said she needs you, we'll do it later. Hold still, I'll rub a cream on them to stop the bleeding."

"All right," John said.

Sasha moved to a chest and pulled out some jars. She poured some powders into a bowl and then added some water. She mixed it with a horsehair brush, thickening it into a mush. "She wouldn't leave her crew behind," she said as she worked.

"They were gone when we got back," John said. "Four at the boat, all missing. Two at the dock. Only sign was Barb's pants."

Sasha stopped mixing. "Her pants?"

"Yes."

Sasha went back to mixing. "Did you find it? The treasure?"

"Yes."

"And Billie?"

"Yes."

Sasha mixed some more. "I love her," she said. "I worry about her. All of us, but mostly her. Magic is something we don't know. It changes everything."

"Tell me about it," John muttered.

"I'm trying to say that you've fought for us and bled for us... Red trusts you. That makes you okay with me."

John sighed. "Thank you."

"This will sting."

He nodded and braced himself.

She took the brush and smeared the paste across the first gouge in his back. The salve felt cool at first, but that didn't last. His flesh itched at first and then it began to burn. John fought to stay still but his muscles twitched and jerked as Sasha moved on to coat his second and third gouge.

John clenched his teeth as she smeared the paste across his wounds. He wanted to ask if she was using a red hot poker to do it but he couldn't get his jaw to unclench long enough to ask.

"Stay still," she said. "I have to wash it off now."

He grunted and waited for her to grab the bottle of rum and dribbled it over each gouge. He saw spots in his closed eyes and sucked wind through his nose to keep himself from passing out. He was so focused he barely noticed when Sasha began wiping his back, cleaning the salve off and then pouring fresh water to rinse the wounds. She patted them dry and then slapped him on the arse, hard.

"You won't bleed out, but you've got meat showing. I'll need to stitch that soon to keep it from festering."

John groaned.

She slapped his other cheek. "Red needs you, on your feet."

John took a few deep breaths to center himself. He checked his magic and found it was weak but waiting for its chance. The two slaps had roused it some, which disgusted him. Even worse he felt the magic's hunger returning.

John rolled off the table and stood up. Sasha raised an eyebrow and then tossed his robe to him. "I won't tell anyone you liked me spanking you."

John scowled and pulled his robe on. Sasha chuckled and left the room ahead of him. He followed and made his way across the deck and up onto the quarterdeck where Red was at the wheel and the sails were unfurling under Steff's commands.

John moved up beside her and waited. He glanced to his right and saw Zynga sitting on the starboard railing and watching them. She winked at him and said, "Books are on your hammock, Master."

John nodded and turned back to watch the anchors pulled onto the deck just before the sails began to snap as they filled with air. The ship was pushed forward and Red turned the wheel swinging the ship around to port.

"Whatever ate that beast hasn't bothered us," Red said. "Either that filled it's belly or it doesn't like the taste of wood."

"Where's Little Red?" Sasha asked. "She made it back, didn't she?"

Red stiffened.

"She—"

"I sent her below," Red said before John could finish.

"It won't take long to reach the stream," Red said. "You should be at the bow to greet that... thing."

John nodded. He turned and caught Zynga's eye. She sighed and hopped off the railing to follow him across the ship to the fo'c'sle. Once there John braced his arms against the railing and waited. The moon was rising in the east and adding a silver sheen to the water around them. John let out a heavy sigh as he watched the water slide beneath and around them.

"She won't be the last, you know," Zynga said.

"No, I expect not," John said. "Still, I can't help but want to be better so it doesn't happen again."

"It will."

"I know, but not without me doing everything in my power to prevent it," John said.

Zynga shrugged. "What you did was more than I expected. Mistress was impressed. Thinking like that— using her gift like that— is the kind of thing she hoped to get out of you."

"How should I have killed it?"

"I have no idea. As far as I knew, it couldn't be killed. Not by you or those three. Billie probably knew, but, well, you'd already taken care of it by then."

John grunted. It didn't make him feel any better.

"Those books... those are spell books."

"I know."

"What are you going to do with them? You're a warlock, not a wizard."

"I can be both," John said.

"You... what? That's your old life, Master. Now you are Mistress's champion. You are a warlock."

"I am, I know, but I can be more. Anyone can be a wizard if they've the discipline and intellect. I am pledged to Mistress, but I only have so much power with her gift. This will give me more options. More ways to impress her and come up with alternative solutions."

Zynga studied him for a long time before she blinked and chuckled. "You are full of surprises, Master. I love a good bit of chaos but you keep turning everything up on its head. Mistress will allow it."

John raised an eyebrow. He didn't care if Mistress allowed it, he was going to do it. Not now, but soon. After they were free of these damn isles and he'd gotten some rest. He yawned and raised his hand to his mouth.

John clung to the railing and used the cool night breeze to help keep him awake. He lost track of time as the Red Witch followed the coast at a safe distance and sought out the stream that emptied the lake. He heard Steff shouting to the crew and ordering changes, rousing him from the stupor he'd fallen into. He saw the shore approaching and the split in it, where it slipped between steep banks that rose over a dozen feet above the water.

The Red Witch slowed, her sails down and Red piloting it by the rudder alone. It drifted forward, inching ever slower until only the bare current pulled it toward the stream. John searched the water, waiting for the surge to lift them up by the bow and then the stern, evening them out.

"John! What's the problem?"

John jumped. He turned and saw Steff crossing the fo'c'sle deck, her wooden leg thumping with each step. He held up his hands in surrender and turned back to the bow.

"Where's the river witch?" she asked.

"Water sprite... sea nymph, whatever," John mumbled. "And I don't know."

"You said she'd grant us passage."

"I did... and she did," he admitted and then yawned. "So I don't know. She told me I had to wait until the next morning for us to get here, maybe I need to wait. We need, I mean. Maybe we need to wait. Until tomorrow morning... saints and demons, I'm a mess."

"Little Red wasn't your fault, you know."

John winced. "I had her in my arms. I tried to pull her back... I tried, but it had already..."

"I know," Steff said. "I saw what she looked like after. You couldn't have stopped that."

"I should have done something. Killed the beast first, maybe."

"You had no way of knowing. None of us did. Maybe, just maybe, if you'd let me be and gone for her first. If you'd let me to fight off that thing... but it near had me a few times already. I'd have been torn to pieces and still you might not have saved her."

John nodded. "I know. Trust me, I've gone through it time and again."

"You're done in."

He smiled and nodded.

"Get some sleep," she said. "I'll let Red know you think she won't come till sunup."

"She'll be mad."

"She's always mad about something," Steff said. "Don't you worry, she's got Sasha to deal with... and Sasha to help her."

"What do you mean?"

"Sasha don't know yet. Not about Little Red. Red won't tell her until they're alone."

"Why?"

"The crew don't need to see that."

John grunted. "Oh... I didn't think about that."

"Aye, so get some sleep. "We put this place behind us in the morning."

John turned and looked up at Red on the Quarterdeck. She wasn't watching him, she was off talking to some of the crew about something. John nodded. "All right... but I should tell her myself."

"No, you go. I'll handle her. Trust me, John."

John hesitated and then, after another glance across the ship at Red he nodded. "Okay... thank you, Steff. For all of this."

"I should be thanking you. This was Little Red's dream, you know. Going after that treasure. She died living the life she'd always wanted."

John sniffed and took a deep breath to keep his emotions in check. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand as he walked across the fo'c'sle and down to the stairs that led belowdecks to his hammock. He saw the books and picked them up and piled them neatly on the floor before he crawled into the bed and collapsed. His back pulled, reminding him of the open wound and Sasha's insistence he get it closed. He frowned and rolled over. He'd do that in the morning, after he woke up. He was too damn tired now. Still, there was one thing he had to do...

"Beytrixxa," John breathed as he settled in to the hammock. He fell through the hammock and plunged into darkness.

The sensation of falling was over in an instant. John blinked but the ship was gone. There was no deck boards above him or creaking of timbers as the ship listed in the water. He tried to sit up but couldn't. His arms were held above his head. His legs, he realized, were lashed tight by something as well.

"What's this?" he mumbled as he tried to see through the darkness for any clue as to what was happening to him.

"Will it," his Mistress's sultry voice floated through the darkness.

John swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. His exhaustion was real, but the shock of finding himself bound in darkness had invigorated him. With a few practiced breaths he found his center and relaxed his racing mind and body.

John opened his eyes to the same blackness. He tried to see through it, as though it was a veil he could pierce. When that failed he realized the darkness was real enough, and to counter it he needed light, even if only a little.

John imagined a candle floating in the air. A mote of light flickered amongst the darkness. He gasped and brightened it before bringing it closer. It responded to his will, floating through the air and illuminating a smoky black cord that held his right wrist fast. With a thought he moved the light to his left wrist and saw the same thing. The cord stretched away into the darkness, bound to what he dared not guess.

John's legs were similarly bound. The demon-rope did not cut or burn, it merely held him fast. John moved the candle up, curious to see where he was, and sucked in a startled gasp when he saw the red-tinted flesh of his Mistress. She was standing a few feet away, towering over him and watching him.

"You continue to impress me, pet," Beytrixxa said. "You innovate and I find your approaches unexpected, but successful. You have also brought me considerable power in this short time. An unsustainable, I am certain, but continue to do so and you will be further rewarded."

Her words pulled John from the carnal worship his eyes were doing upon her nude body. She was slender and curved and truly figured to inspire sin. "Further rewarded?" John asked. Surely being able to gaze on her like this was reward enough!

She strode forward, her long legs stretching and gliding through the darkness. She stepped over him and stared down at him. "Yes," she said. "I promised you a reward should you succeed in your quest. You've accomplished three things just now. You finished the quest you set out for yourself, proving to me that you are reliable. You have recovered spell books that you should have no use for, yet you wish to enhance your abilities and make yourself more useful to me. And you have delivered two souls to me, one that came willingly and lovingly into your embrace. There is no sweeter taste than that of an innocent soul seeped in love."

John knew that should disturb him but staring at her perfect body, her dusky skin smooth and glistening, made it hard to feel anything but lust and worship.

"And now your reward," she said as she squatted down over him. Her hand found his achingly hard cock and caressed it. Her fingers traced sigils on it John did not recognize. She finished with a twist around the base of his shaft that made his skin tingle. She sank down the rest of the way, taking him into her core with a single stroke that left her fiery loins resting on John's hips.

John bucked and grunted. The heat was too much. The pressure too much. Fucking a barrel of olive oil would have been no smoother or softer, but the way she squeezed and clung to him belied his senses. He arched his back and cried out as he gave up an hope of holding out against this goddess that blessed him with her touch.

John blinked and stared. He didn't explode. Far from it. His body was on edge and his heart was racing. He couldn't focus on anything for more than a second... anything except the need to fill Mistress with everything his body could produce. Yet he didn't. He thrust up into her and strained, trying to force his seed to issue forth, all to no avail.

"Your pleasure is mine for the taking... or granting," she said to him.

John's lips parted so he could beg and plead for release. She wiggled her hips around him, grinding her wet flesh against him and circling his cock within her folds. John's words died unspoken. A groan replaced them. A groan of pleasure that was nearly madness.

"One last test," she told him as she squeezed and milked him. "I'm going to fuck you, John, and you're going to make me cum. You're going to hold out, not because you can control it, but because I control you. Few men can do this without losing themselves. Keep your sanity, John, and you shall have your reward if you still want it."

His reward! The real reward... power. He could do so much with more power. Not be driven by the constant need to bed women, among the least of those. After Beytrixxa, how could he ever lay with another woman again?

He gasped and nodded and clenched his fists. He fought for center again, struggling to find some calm amidst the maelstrom of sensations that—

"Oh boy," John hissed as she began to truly ride him.

Beytrixxa rose and fell on him, her skin slapping his and jarring his entire body. Each bump and grind shattered his focus and made him aware that his pleasure was truly hers to play with. His cock felt like a raw nerve being toyed with. Too much sensation. It was incredible and it was too much. It hurt, but in the most delightful of ways. Was he on fire or being frozen solid? Was she squeezing the blood from his manhood or zapping him with a thousand shocks like those generated by rubbing your feet across a fur skin rug?

John was battered and tossed about. His head lolling as he fought the madness that kept him poised on the edge of agony and bliss. Her core sucked at him, demanding he fill her, yet he could not. All he could do was lie there in a bed of darkness and fight to endure her bliss.

In the rare moments of lucidity he found John knew he could not survive this. His body, yes, but his mind would break. It was too much for any man to endure. He called upon his training to calm himself but it was no use. He couldn't even manage the first steps, let alone find peace in his core.

Above him Beytrixxa's skin glistened as though she was fresh from a bath or sweating, yet no water ran from her. She was beautiful. Impossibly Beautiful. Demonically beautiful. Her hands cupped her swollen breasts and her fingers pinched and pulled at her large nipples. She arched her back and leaned forward, teasing him with their beauty. She drew one black nail across her nipple when she saw him staring at them. The skin split as though it burst and she gasped. Blackish red blood welled and dropped from the cut, falling on John's chest.

He ground and jerked up into her. Her blood sizzled and hissed as it burned his flesh. She smiled and dipped down, grinding her slit against his pubic bone. The mix of agony and pleasure tugged at him, confusing and unraveling his mind. Beytrixxa's lips parted and her tongue slipped out. It was pointed and dainty and, he noticed through the fog of madness, unnaturally long.

She licked the sizzling blood first and then fastened her lips to the wound. She sucked and licked it some more, cleaning his skin and drinking his own juices before she pulled away with a pop of releasing suction. She sat up and back, hilting herself once more fully onto his hardness.