Anaea looked out across the vast expanse of water that surrounded her small boat. In the clear sky above her the sun was beating down harshly but Anaea’s deeply tanned skin was used to it. Sweat beaded on her brow and ran down the sides of face in long streaks. Her arms were shimmering with sweat that displayed the strong, defined muscles of her arms and stomach as she worked. The waves gently rocked the boat as it cut through the water, carried by strong, cool winds that filled the sails. 
Lying at the back of the small boat was the unconscious Captain Batavia. His hands and feet were tightly bound with reed rope to keep him under control when the knock-out drug wore off. As a backup, she had an oar to smack him over the head with if he tried anything but hoped it would not come to that. 

Sea spray had settled on his tanned, worn face. Beads of saltwater formed on his salt-and-pepper beard like dew on grass blades in winter. Anaea guessed he would be waking up soon. The poison she had dosed him with back on his ship was strong enough to keep him down for most of the day, enough time for her to get him off his ship and halfway to the island before he would come around. That would be soon.

Anaea scanned the horizon, searching the featureless ocean for hints that she was headed in the right direction. Far away on the horizon, barely visible from this distance, was the only marker for Anaea’s course. Towering out of the sea was the rock archway that was the marker, gate and gatekeeper to Joros. Ancient magics long since forgotten by the inhabitants of the world surrounded the archway. There were legends created by the sailors of the sea that told of monsters, demons and all sorts of wicked beasts that lured and devoured anyone foolish enough to approach that lone, foreboding rock. Anaea knew better.

She steered the rudder of her boat and pointed it towards the archway. If the winds remained strong she would be home by nightfall.  
With the right course now set, Anaea could lean back and quietly wait for the wind to carry her and her prisoner through the archway. She splashed some cool sea water onto her body to wash away the sweat. She caressed her firm breasts and splashed another handful of water onto them. As she wiped them clean of sweat and grime, she heard the sound of her captive groaning. She looked over to Batavia and saw that he was beginning to come around. He blinked against the harsh sunlight and tried to bring his hand up to block it, only to find they were tightly bound to each other and to the boat.  

She watched with mild amusement as realisation dawned on his face and the situation became clear. He struggled against his binds with all his strength. The large muscles in his arms tensed hard as they struggled against the reed rope. For a moment Anaea doubted their strength and gripped her oar tightly, ready to swing it and deal the knockout blow should he break free. Batavia struggled for several minutes, shouting several curses as he tried his best to break the rope. Eventually he stopped, panting with exhaustion and anger, he glared at Anaea. She smiled back at him with a mixture of smug satisfaction and amusement. For a long moment they stared across the boat at each other.

Finally, Anaea broke the silence. 

‘Sleep well?’ she asked.

Batavia’s frown deepened. ‘What are you doing with me?’

Anaea looked back towards the far distant archway and pointed to it. ‘I’m taking you there’.

Batavia’s tanned face paled instantly. He looked towards the archway with dread and disbelief.

Reading his face, Anaea answered the question he hadn’t asked.

‘The stories aren’t true. No monsters and no nasty little beasties’ she said.

‘So you’re really a Jorosian?’ Batavia asked with a slight sneer.  

‘I am’.

‘You said you came from the sea. You lied to me’ Batavia said.

‘Only a little. I did have to swim from my boat to yours’ Anaea replied with another grin.

Batavia looked again to the encroaching archway and then back to Anaea. His expression changed from anger to concern. The sight of the distant archway really was scaring him.

‘What are you going to do with me?’ he asked. Nervousness was clear in his voice.

Anaea tried not to laugh. It would be pointlessly cruel towards the man she had chosen as her husband. 

‘You’re not going to get killed’ she assured him. 

‘Then why snatch me off my ship? Why go through all this?’

‘It’s a law on my island. A woman cannot become a true warrior until she has ventured out, claimed a man and brought him back to Joros’ Anaea explained. 

‘And you’ve claimed me have you?’

‘I claimed you back in your cabin, remember? You seemed to enjoy it’.

‘I thought that was me claiming you. And you enjoyed it too’ Batavia quickly replied.

Anaea smiled and blushed gently. ‘I did’.

That seemed to relax Batavia. He examined the rope around his wrists.

‘What other stories about you are false?’ Batavia asked, resigning himself to the fact that the rope was unbreakable.

‘What have you heard?’

‘You break the legs of your men and castrate the boys’.

Anaea snorted with laughter. ‘We only break the legs of the ones who try to escape. And we don’t castrate anyone. The boys are sent to Jorima to be farmers’ Anaea explained. 

Batavia looked down at his muscular legs under his short tunic. Anaea tapped the flat end of her oar against his knee and told him just how they broke the legs of men who tried to run.

‘I don’t have any choice in this?’ he asked.

Anaea shook her head. ‘Don’t be grumpy. You’ll love it there. Trust me’.

Batavia did not look convinced. ‘What am I getting out of this?’

Anaea raised an eyebrow and cupped both her breasts. She lifted and dropped them for emphasis. They were wet with sea water and shimmered in the sunlight.

Batavia’s face changed to a dumbfounded expression as the obvious answer bounced in front of him like ripe fruits ready to be harvested. He blinked as they orbs of flesh temporarily hypnotised him. He shook off the bewitching sight and tried to keep his eyes focused and angry but the tanned, tight chest in front of him was a great distraction. 

The boat slowly made its way ever closer to the marker rock. Batavia watched it tentatively and with a growing look of dread as the monolith approached. His eyes jumped from the rock that now loomed over the small boat to Anaea and back again. His face was pale and Anaea thought she saw a tremble in his hands. She couldn’t imagine what kind of horror the old magics were having on him that was thankfully spared. 

‘D-Do you have any of that potion left?’ Batavia asked as he stared, rigid and terrified, at the towering marker.
Anaea didn’t answer. She figured it would be best to spare him the torment the magics were inflecting on him and perhaps that would make him easier to control later. She reached for the small vial and dipped the tip of her blade into it. A small incision in his arm and he was out like a candle in the wind. 

Anaea watched him slip off into sleep, then turned back to the heading of the boat. They had passed the marker by now and far in the distance, the misty outline of a mountainous island was starting to appear. Though it had only been a few days since she had left, she had missed her island home dearly and now finally she was on the home stretch.
 
In no time at all, the magic that hid the island from view had evaporated and the island paradise of Joros was clearly visible. As her small boat was carried by wind and current closer to the island, Anaea could clearly see the forest of palm trees that marked the beginning of the beach. She steered towards a wide inlet that would snake into the islands interior. The deep blue of the open ocean was changed to a bright turquoise as the boat entered the shallows around the island. Schools of bright fish swam around the equally colourful and bright coral. The water was so clear and clean that it even three metres deep, the ocean floor was clearly seen.  
As the boat entered the inlet, Anaea switched to her oar to push the boat against the river current. Standing on the river bank, dressed the bright golden ornamental armour of Jorosian warriors, were Anaea’s friends. They waved at her excitedly before quickly vanishing into the thick vegetation of the tropical jungle. Brief flashes of gold among the dark greenery told Anaea they were running along the bank to meet her at the small dock ahead. She paddled harder, eager to meet them.

The dock was a small pool beneath a waterfall that spilled over a tall cliff that around most of the island. There were several boats tied up to poles planted on the land. There was a small clearing in the jungle on one side of the pool were a hut and several beds for sun drying fish. A small group of men were busy gutting fish and looked up as Anaea’s boat drifted into the pool. She jumped out, into the shallow water and pulled her boat onto the shore just as her two friends burst out of the jungle and immediately rushed towards her for a hug. 

The three women, two dressed in armour made from gold and white silk that only covered the bare essentials, and one dressed in a small leather skirt and nothing else. They hugged and laughed. Anaea brought them over to her boat to see her sleeping captive. Both of them offered compliments and words of approval as they examined Batavia. Together, they helped Anaea bring him to her hut. Dragging him on a small cart along a narrow path through the thick vegetation of the island, they reached the village. Immediately they were descended upon by every woman in the village who came to see the man she had brought with her. 

After many reunions and much praise, Anaea was allowed to take her husband back to her hut. The small wood and thatch building was located in the corner of the expansive village. Either side of the small building were the homes of her friends and at its back was a narrow path that led to the sea. The hut itself was large enough for her bed, several shelves full of items and a rack of spears. Her bed was a fairly basic pile of straw with bundles of soft furs on top. It hardly ever got cold enough for a blanket to be needed. 
Anaea tied Batavia to the main beam that held her hut up. It was too thick for him to break or knock over, making it ideal for holding him. He would be out for several more hours and Anaea used that time to go be with her friends. 

                                                                 +++

When Batavia awoke it was dark outside. Beams of flickering orange light came through the slits in the wooden walls. The smell of wood smoke was in the air. Batavia struggled against his binds again for a moment but he knew already that it was futile. He didn’t have long to think before the cloth door to the hut was pulled open. Standing in the orange light of the camp fire outside, Anaea stood in the door way on uneasy legs. She approached Batavia and clumsily got to her knees so she could look him in the eyes. Her dazed look and smell of some kind of liquor told him immediately that she was drunk. She smiled at him and caressed his beard. 
‘Hello, husband” she said with a giggle. 

Batavia didn’t reply. Anaea kissed him hard on the lips and tried to slide her tongue into his mouth. Batavia could taste the sweet flavour of the alcohol in her mouth. As she kissed him, her hand found its way to his tunic and began to squeeze his shaft through the fabric. 

‘I want to do the sex with you’ Anaea said. Her face looked deadly serious.

‘How can I do that if I’m tied to this pole?’ Batavia said.

‘Like this’ Anaea quickly replied. 

She stood up and faced away from Batavia. Slowly wiggling her round, toned backside in front of him, she slipped her skirt down her legs and drunkenly kicked it across the hut. Batavia felt himself getting hard at the sight. Thoughts of escape quickly dissolving as his mind was completely taken over by the sight of a muscular, tanned girl standing nude before him. He noticed she had black lines painted on her bronze skin. Her back had a symmetrical design akin to a bird with spread wings and a long tail that split just above her gorgeous backside. Around her biceps and thighs were smaller, more detailed designs. 

Now dressed in nothing but a red and black leather anklet, Anaea continued to sway her body as she turned around. She ran her hands down her curvy body as she made small, slow steps towards her bound prisoner-cum-husband.

She lifted her foot and pointed it towards Batavia’s face. She balanced carefully on one leg as she caressed his beard with the sole of her foot and pressed it against his lips. Obediently, Batavia kissed it. Happy with his response, Anaea moved her foot down his chest and towards the lump she saw growing under his tunic. She teased it with her toes, giggling as she did so. After a moment, she flicked up the hem of his tunic and exposed the hard shaft of man meat underneath. She rubbed his sensitive tip with her toes, feeling her own sex grow hotter and slicker by the second. 

When even she couldn’t stand her teasing anymore, Anaea lowered herself onto her knees and crawled towards her husband. She took the hot shaft in her hands and stroked it as she kissed Batavia deeply. The bristles of his salt-and-pepper beard tickled and scratched her face but she didn’t care. 

‘This time you’ll do what I want’ she said to him with a wide grin. 

‘And what is that?’ Batavia asked. He didn’t care what she wanted, at this point his was driven by raw lust and would have done anything she told him too. 

Anaea stood up and moved her hips forward, towards Batavia’s face. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know what she wanted. As a little encouragement, she took him by the back of the head and pushed him into her groin. She gasped happily as his lips and tongue began to explore her wet, needy lips. His beard prickled on her skin, adding to the sensations that flowed up from her sex. She grinded her hips against his face, biting her lip as the feelings of lust, power and unfiltered pleasure grew inside her. Her head was spinning from the wine already but this new intoxication was a thousand times more potent. Before long she knew that a tongue and lips alone were not going to be enough. 

She stepped back, squeezing her breasts and nipples to keep herself primed, and positioned herself over his throbbing erection. She took hold of the shaft and steered it into her wet opening. It still hurt a tiny bit but the pleasure she was chasing made the pain bearable. Inch by inch, she consumed him until there was nothing left. Then she began to ride him. Her hips rocked back and forth as her breathing became ragged and gasping. She bounced on his shaft, rubbing her tight insides against the hard shaft that penetrated her. 

Batavia was lost in his lust but enraged by the binding of his hands. He wanted to squeeze the tits that bounced in front of his face. He wanted to take hold of the round arse that was slapping his thighs each time the horny Jorosian landed a bounce. He could feel her fluids coating his shaft and sack as she fully gave in to her needs and fucked him. But it was not enough. He wanted to fuck her, not to just be fucked. He was enraging and intoxicating. 

Anaea wrapped her arms around Batavia’s neck, pulling his face into her chest as she rode the wave to her first climax. She tensed her strong abdominal muscles, clamping down on the thick phallus inside her. She peaked, cried out without a care for who may be listening and continued to ride him, eagerly chasing the next orgasm. 

‘Untie me!’ Batavia begged. 

Anaea smiled, kissed him on the lips and shook her head. 

‘Not yet’ she answered. 

She swung her leg over the top of Batavia’s head, swivelling around  to face away from him while still keeping him deeply inside her. She took his balls in her hand, squeezing them gently as she started to bounce and grind again. 

‘You want to cum inside me?’ she asked over her shoulder with a wicked grin.

‘Yes. Please yes’ Batavia replied. 

Anaea laughed and with a renewed energy, she started to ride. She squeezed her breast tightly in one hand as she squeezed Batavia’s ball with the other. Her breathing was loud and hard as the long spear of thick erection disappeared inside her. She heard Batavia breathing too and could tell he was close to climax. Driven by this, she squeezed his balls tighter, trying to force him to shoot into her. 

Her plan went flawlessly. He groaned painfully and unleashed a torrent of sticky, hot cum inside Anaea’s womb. She squealed with delight as she felt the thick ooze flood her insides. She only relented her passionate motions when Batavia was beginning to go soft inside her. He was panting and sweaty but Anaea wasn’t finished. She raised herself off him, letting his limp, wet and sticky shaft slip out of her and replaced it with her two middle fingers. 

She was well practiced in the art of self-satisfaction and only needed a little more stimulation for a second, glorious climax. Cum, both hers and his, covered and filled her burning vagina. It leaked out of her in a sticky mess. She slipped her fingers slipped inside with no trouble and quickly, eagerly she began to finger-fuck herself. They slipped in and out of her with ease. Soon they were covered in mixed cum and Anaea was on the rise. Her body trembled and her hair stood on end as she felt herself building and building.  

She let out a choked, desperate gasp as her mind was flooded once more with physical ecstasy and her brain went blank. As she came down, the full effect of the alcohol and hormones came over her. She looked dizzy. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to stay awake. She slumped over to one side, catching herself on the pole just before she hit the floor. She fumbled to right herself, grabbing hold of the knot that kept Batavia tied to the pole. Her fingers slipped and she fell to the floor in a pile, eyes shut.  
Batavia watched her for a moment. Naked, glimmering with sweat across her firm, tanned body. Cum and slick fluid coated her pink slit and inner thigh. It was a beautiful sight, if a bit perverse, especially in the warm orange light of the fire that still burned outside. 

Then he realised he was no longer bound to the pole. In her drunk state, Anaea had undone the knot before she passed out. A moment of struggle undid the rope and he was free. He got to his feet, carefully moving Anaea’s legs off himself. He reached the doorway before he stopped. He looked back at the naked, sleeping girl on the floor of the hut. Her chest was rising and falling gently as she breathed. She really was beautiful. She had drugged him and kidnapped him off his ship, then taken him to a magical island where he would have his legs broken if he tried to escape, but she was beautiful. And very eager to please.
 
He hesitated at the doorway. It would be easy to stay. Maybe he would wait a while to test the waters, so to speak. It would be easier to escape once he’s earned their trust and some responsibility, he reasoned. And it would let him work out a better plan with less risk of excruciating pain and broken legs. Plus, he might be able to get a few sessions out of the beautiful Anaea. 

Batavia stepped away from the doorway and returned to the bed. He shifted Anaea’s sleeping body into a more comfortable position and lay down beside her. He wasn’t tired but somehow just lying next to the drunk rapist and kidnapper, he fell asleep too.

                                                           END OF PART II