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Hidden Journal: Gifts for the Meshir
NOTICE: The following file is one of an ongoing series, transcriptions
of files decrypted from the hidden journal of Harrison Everett Stone.
For a summary of their provenance see the initial file, D910412.ZEN,
included in the release, "Hidden Journal: First Files."
--Kellis. Copyright 1999
File D9104171.ZEN
<Friday, September 22, 1972>
The adventure level is cranking up!
What I did today was illegal but not immoral. Though I broke the
rules, I stole nothing and harmed no one. But illegal is enough. Into
these curlicues the tale goes, along with everything else having to do
with the Meshir.
One advantage of being a civilian contractor is access to both officer
and enlisted clubs. Looked up Sgt. Downs late yesterday in the enlisted
club to chat about transportation. Downs is a big man, black, pleasant
enough, though his South Carolina patois is sometimes hard to follow, and
like most sergeants, open to a deal if the proposition is right. After
I'd bought him a few drinks he disclosed two key facts: whom to bribe for
a lift to Tehran and its airport PX, and how to obtain off-the-record
motorized transport around these hills.
The latter problem had worried me most, because a trip report has to
be filled out for every use of a military vehicle. The good sergeant
admitted one exception to that rule. The motor pool has a jeep that
appears on no inventory. It was originally written off as "destroyed"
when a drunk ran it over a cliff, but the motor sergeants restored it with
cannibalized parts. It is used now only for "hunting parties."
Apparently there's game in these hills. Downs told me that with a
straight face. I didn't ask whether it was two- or four-legged.
"You want to use it, I 'spect."
"Yes, I would. Might have a little hunting of my own."
He studied me. "They tol' you how dangerous the broads is here?"
"Indeed they did."
"It's a fac'."
"Okay. How much and who gets it?"
It turns out the unlogged jeep is available to anyone waving a $100
contribution to the Sgt. Downs retirement fund. Full of gas, too.
Shelton agreed to run the system tests for me this morning -- actually
Monday's tests; we're ahead of schedule -- and I was on the airstrip at
05:00 while the "Flying Boxcar's" twin engines were just cranking up.
Bought a wad of stuff at the Tehran PX, a stack of boxes that filled
the back of a jeep getting them out to the plane. The loadmaster stared
at me with an incredulous frown. Took two twenties to restore his stern
good humor. And two more to get my load transferred secretly to Downs'
room in the motor pool and repackaged in empty parts boxes, where it
resides at this moment. It'll pass by the Air Police at the gate tomorrow
morning as a consignment for Advance Camp Two. Downs' signature has
enough authority for that.
This has been an instructive day. I've long believed the military
depends on low enlisted pay to minimize rule circumvention by bribery.
But along come civilian contractors and the rules melt. The low pay that
constrains a private merely eases the strain for moneyed civilians.
<Saturday, September 23, 1972>
Arrived at the fireplace with a door, which it so resembles, at 08:00
and backed the jeep up to it. The morning was lit by a bright sky, the
sun being still behind the cliff. I had seen no one on the climb up from
Fellavi and no one on the short road from the pass. I let myself into the
cave and shouted my first name as Constance and I had agreed.
Carrying one of the motor parts boxes, I advanced around the bend to
the large cavern. The everlasting flame hissed on. Two naked pubescent
girls stood rather tensely, I thought, on either side of it. Don't they
ever wear clothing? Or was this their standard, clearly defenseless
response to any male invasion?
They watched me approach silently. The knees of one trembled. I'd
never seen them before. I said, "Constance McKinney, please. Tell her
Harry Stone is here again."
They only stared. The trembling knee wobbled further. I smiled at
its owner. "Don't be afraid," I soothed in my tenderest tones. "I don't
eat girls." That is, not unless their clits happen to lie right under my
nose.
She took a deep breath and stood a bit straighter.
"Mrs. McKinney? Has anyone sent for her?"
Silence.
"Melki? Estri?"
Their eyes widened. They spoke, but to each other. At last both of
them smiled at me. Both sagged into more relaxed poses.
A contralto voice called from one of the rear corridors, "Your wives
are coming, Harry."
It was Constance, of course, in her gray robe. I called her name in
relief. She hurried across the cavern as I set the box down and came into
my arms, cheek to cheek. I forgot myself and offered to kiss her but she
bypassed my lips with a smile. "Aren't two enough?"
"Oh, I don't know," I responded, smiling into her twinkling eyes. "I
can love a lot of women."
"Indeed? That's one of Ahriman's attributes: loving all women. Do
you mean to dethrone him, then?"
"I can love them but I can't afford them."
She grunted. "One follows the other, you know."
"Yes, I do know. I have a present for you."
Her eyes lit. "A present?"
I shook my head. "God -- I mean, Ahriman -- knows what Meshir taboo
I'm about to violate, but I think this'll look good on you." I took the
jewel case from my coat pocket and opened it before her. She looked hard
at the gold and the alternating ruby-emerald chain. Her breath caught.
It was worth a day's pay at the Tehran PX -- my pay, not a private's --
still a pittance compared to its price in the states.
"May I put it on you?"
She bit her lip, still staring at it, but nodded her head rapidly. I
unfolded the necklace, leaving the case in her hand, pulled back the nape
of her robe and hooked the long strands behind her. She opened the front
of the robe and turned to face me, looking down her chin at the loop lying
colorfully between her breasts.
"You probably have them," I said obliquely, "but I haven't seen one
here. So ..."
I retrieved the dressing table mirror from the parts box and held it
up before her. She took it from me and stared at the reflection of the
necklace on her chest.
"Oh, Harry, it's beautiful!" she breathed.
"Yes," I agreed, studying her judiciously, "especially between those
dark nipples."
She fingered it. "These stones are real?"
"Very real."
"Harry, how could you spend so much?" She looked up at me, eyes
glittering. "When I think how many books and medicines this would buy --"
"Easy!" I spread my hands. "The jeep is full of that stuff. Can you
find some clothed girls to unload it?"
"Yes, of course." She snapped a command to the two attendants, who
hurried away. Her eyes turned back to her reflection. She cupped her own
breast, causing the gems to flash colored fire.
"Oh, how they shine!" she breathed. She tore her eyes away. "Harry,
you didn't need to do this. Don't you know you can have anything that's
mine to give?"
I was saved a gallant response by screams from the corridor. Melki
and Estri dashed through the portal, calling my name. "Hah-ree!" Melki
wore the ubiquitous gray robe, held closed at the throat by a hand,
streaming behind her as she ran, exposing almost her entire body. Estri,
the shorter, was naked and slightly in the lead.
The slowed abruptly as they neared. They came to a stop side by side
directly before me. Melki threw off her robe. They stood at military
parade rest, hands behind them, except for submissively bowed heads.
They made a short speech in unison. I looked inquiringly at
Constance, whose eyes twinkled. "They welcome the return of their
husband."
"Tell them I'm glad to see them. I have presents for them."
They looked up at her words. That expression on a girl's face -- lips
parted, eyes bright with expected pleasure -- is irresistible. I had
resolved to show them only fatherly indulgence, but when they pressed
against me with upturned lips, I swept them into my arms and kissed them
simultaneously.
I was curious as to how they would receive my presents. That had been
a problem. What do you buy for your "wives" when one is prepubescent and
the other barely a teenager? It's for sure you don't ask advice from
Westerners!
When the girls let me release them, I took up two small, identical
boxes from the parts box and gave one to each. The gifts boxes were gold
embossed. Constance cocked her head to read the legend on the closest.
She sniffed and shook her head but smiled anyway.
The girls turned their gifts this way and that. I demonstrated how to
pull off one end of the box, exposing a bottle of golden cologne with
purple spray bulb attached. Both girls eyed the bottles wonderingly.
Melki spoke a word to Constance who grinned at me. "She asks if it is to
drink."
I took the bottle from her, sprayed a light mist on her forearm,
raised the limb toward her nose and made sniffing noises. She took a
breath. Her eyes grew round as marbles. Estri followed her example with
the same result. Constance spoke to them at length. They listened,
returned bottles to boxes and again threw their arms about me.
"I told them to use it sparingly, not to waste it," the woman
explained.
I responded over their heads, "I just realized it's a stupid present."
"Why?" she asked in obvious disagreement.
"I prefer their <natural> odors!"
"Oh." She chuckled. "Yes, <you> would! But they love it."
"I have some more presents for them, but I'd like to unload that jeep
before somebody spots it."
"You don't have to worry, Harry. It's been years since another
vehicle came to the back gate."
"I'm more concerned with aerial surveillance. I flew over these hills
just yesterday."
"Aerial!" Her eyebrows rose.
"So let's get it unloaded."
"Implying that you must leave right away?"
"Yes, to limit the jeep's exposure."
"Only for that reason?" She regarded me sideways with a slight smile.
"Wouldn't you prefer to tarry awhile?"
"You know I would, but --"
"Then we need only to conceal the jeep."
"On bare rock?"
"<Under> bare rock!"
She spoke sternly to my "wives," clearly a command. They kissed me on
either cheek and turned away, hurrying into the caverns while clutching
their cologne. "Come on," she said to me. "You may offer me a short
ride."
I followed her up the exit corridor and helped her open the outer
door. A whistle of air in the crack as it began to swing informed me why
it was so hard to open. The caverns were under slight positive pressure,
probably from the gas that fed the flame behind me. Someone had carved
the wooden door to fit with remarkable snugness.
The jeep sat where I left it. I opened the canvas door for her and
helped her over the high sill. Her robe caught momentarily on a bolt head
in the door frame, giving me a glimpse of brown thigh.
"Are you naked under that robe, Constance?"
"Except for a beautiful and too expensive necklace."
My face was close to her, holding the door. She rose up suddenly and
kissed my chin before settling back. "I have yet to thank you, Harry."
"What was that," I asked dryly, "a proposal of marriage?"
She grinned saucily. "Not without witnesses." She shivered, looking
around. "One forgets the cold."
I closed her door, walked around and took my place as driver. When I
had started the engine, she directed me further along the road -- except
that it wasn't. Despite its smoothness, it was no more than a gully in
the rock, hardly wide enough for two jeeps to pass. Still it was too
regular to be natural. Men must have carved it to some degree, though so
long ago that their tool marks had faded.
It wound around a climbing curve less than a quarter mile to end in a
low wide cave. I stopped the jeep before the entrance.
"Go on," she urged.
I craned my neck to look under the top of the windshield. "Will it
fit?"
She fumbled for the door handle. "I'll guide you."
I recalled her bare feet, but before I could stop her she was standing
beside the vehicle, slamming the door. "Come on!" she called. "You have
a hand's width."
In extra low gear I slowly ground forward until the entire jeep was in
the shade of the rock overhang. She held up her hand to warn me that the
top was about to strike the ceiling. I killed it and got out. It was
certainly well concealed from the air.
Constance spoke in the Meshir tongue. Four young women, dressed in
gray woolen bunny suits, sprang forward from the shadows. I began to fill
their arms with the parts boxes.
"Constance, after fifteen years in England you ought to recognize
everything here."
She sniffed. "I well recall my husband's remark that Americans have a
compulsion to package everything colorfully, along with directions for
use. Is it true that American boots come with directions on the heel for
pouring urine from them?"
I nodded with a grin. "Some of them, no doubt."
"What should I do with the empty boxes? They look official. Do you
want them back?"
"No. Burn them. Also the goods' boxes. If the locals find any of
them ..."
Her eyes glittered. "They won't."
The girls required two trips each. Constance and I followed them into
the cave along an ascending path. I still bore my box of personal
presents. Fifty yards inside they turned off but Constance led me
further. The corridor, now gradually descending, twisted back and forth
past several branches. The light grew dimmer as the air grew warmer.
"What a maze!" I commented.
"Yes, it is," she agreed over her shoulder, "throughout this entire
mountain. Many times people have become lost here and died of thirst. We
still find their skeletons."
"Well, I'm one of them -- lost, that is."
She stopped and pulled me against her. I could barely make out a
smile on her face. "Harry, we'll never let <you> be lost!"
Her arms wound around my neck. She kissed me squarely on the lips.
Her tongue forced its way past my rictus of surprise, lifting mine. Her
hands stroked the back of my head. When she released me, both of us were
breathing harder.
I said, "Every man ought to have three wives."
"Honorary ones," she agreed. I could hear her grin as she added, "I'd
expect honorary wives to be cheap, but this necklace says otherwise."
"A man must take care of his wives, however obtained."
"Come," she admonished. I followed her around another turn. In the
distance was a faint yellow glow. She pointed toward it.
"That's the cave of the sacred flame, Harry. Now do you know where
you are?"
"I'm with you."
She shook her head. "About fifty yards on the left is the alcove
where you met Melki and Estri. They're waiting for you there. Take care
of them, as you put it."
"Meaning that you won't come? Constance, they're nice kids, but
that's the problem."
"The problem?"
"Despite what you may have concluded when half a dozen of them
assaulted me, I'm far more comfortable with a full-grown woman: you, for
example."
"Only because I speak your language."
"Not <only>, Constance. Actually, their lack of English makes them
more ..."
"More like sex machines?" Her eyes glittered tartly in the dim light.
"I was about to say, more esoteric -- more alluring. I'm not sure I
could do well by them if they were American girls."
"Nationality is so important?"
"Not that. They'd be ... too ordinary. And too young."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I see that you have indeed absorbed the
prejudices of your culture. But you're in Persia now, Harry, which you
should know respects no age barrier in females."
"Ah, but the Meshir respect a barrier, if I understood you correctly."
"Only the hymeneal barrier, and even that is forfeit to a husband. In
any case please let them entertain you for a while. I must go distribute
your gifts."
"Shouldn't I go with you?"
"No, Harry."
"Why not? What if you find something strange?"
"Harry, one of the oldest Meshir rules is that men may not be privy to
the storage of consumables. Something strange? Such as?"
"Well, such as pain medicine. I got you half a dozen bottles of
U.S.P. morphine sulphate, along with the graduated syringes to use it."
"Ah, 'U.S.P.?'"
"United States Pharmacopeia. Means it's guaranteed pure."
"But morphine!"
"Oh, there's plenty of aspirin and patent pain-killers. The morphine
is for your worst cases. You know about morphine, don't you?"
"I know it's terribly addicting."
"Yes, if given too often. But I had a nurse once who called it
'liquid mercy.'"
"I suppose it is, at that. How do you administer it? What's the
dosage?"
"Simple. Stick the needle in the rubber bottle top and withdraw ten
milligrams -- to the mark on the syringe. That's the dose for an adult.
Half that for a child. Inject it into a large muscle, such as an ass
cheek."
"Are you a doctor, Harry?"
"Didn't I tell you? I'm a programmer."
"For ... the wireless?"
I had to grin. "How long've you been out of England? I program
computers. The reason I know about morphine dosage is I asked the
pharmacist at the PX. What irony! No alcohol in a Moslem country, but I
can buy all the morphine I want."
"Well, of course," she retorted, "poppies are grown all over these
hills... Harry, will you wait for me? I shouldn't be an hour."
"Also there's a battery-powered short-wave receiver -- 'wireless' to
you."
"I know how to operate a wireless, especially one with directions."
"It has directions. But it won't work underground without an outside
antenna. Do you know how to make an antenna?"
"Yes, if I can get the wire."
"There's wire. How in the world did you learn <that>, Constance?"
"My husband had an amateur wireless station. We did everything
together."
"I'm beginning to see how you must miss him. What killed him, by the
way?"
"Harry, do you mind? Those memories are painful."
"Please forgive me, Constance. You are such a marvelous --" I took a
breath. "What did you mean, wait for you?"
"Don't leave. Tryst with your two sweetest wives."
"'Sweetest,' ha! An hour? Do you think I can last so long?"
"Just stay, will you, please? I want to thank you properly."
"Hmm. Proper English gratitude?"
"No. <Meshir> gratitude!"
"I'll wait for that! Constance, suppose I take them to the big room
with the flame?"
"Perfectly all right. Today this end of the caverns is yours alone.
But wouldn't you prefer the dark?"
"Only women prefer the dark. Okay, my dear. I'll wait for you."
"Thank you, Harry. You'll not be sorry."
She turned away, immediately vanishing in the gloom. With no
alternative I walked towards the light.
My "wives" were sitting nakedly in the oval entrance to their alcove,
redolent of my cologne, the curtain thrown behind their backs. The light,
deriving entirely from the distant opening to the flame cavern, was
stronger though still too dim for color vision. Question: whence came
the very bright light I had taken to represent morning when I first
awakened here? Clearly no sunlight could reach this spot! Had that been
merely the effect of fully dark-adjusted retinas?
I stopped before the alcove and gestured "come along" towards the
distant light. Mouths fell open and shrill voices protested. The larger
sat back on her heels and spread her knees so wide that her bones creaked,
a surprising sound from pubescent hips. The incompletely fledged lips
parted. Believe me: no advertisement is more compelling than that one!
I had other fish to fry in my box, but you shouldn't ignore a woman's
best offer. "That's a pretty one, honey," I said appreciatively, stroking
her distinct clit with an extended finger, "and I may taste it later.
Just now I have other gifts for you. Come on!"
I gestured more forcefully. With evident reluctance they got down
from the oval ledge and accompanied me toward the light. As we walked I
handed over the parts box for Melki to carry and removed my suffocating
field jacket. Estri was pleased to bear it, folded in her arms. A smile
appeared on both female faces when the fatigue shirt came off and
descended upon the jacket. My T-shirt was damp with sweat. The air in
that place must have been at least eighty degrees F. Probably more!
Naked girls find it comfortable, I've noticed.
Melki rummaged in the box and held up one of the cellophane-wrapped
packs of balloons, calling Estri's attention. They spoke back and forth,
puzzled though intrigued by the varied colors now evident in the brighter
light.
As Constance had implied, the large cavern was deserted. Its hissing
flame stood forth unwaveringly from the central mound. When we reached a
nearby carpet, I took the balloon pack from Melki and gestured for both
girls to lay down their burdens. Opening the cellophane, I fished out a
bright red balloon, put it to my lips and blew it up. The girls watched
with parted lips as it formed a translucent ovoid a foot in diameter. I
tied a knot in the mouthpiece and bounced it ostentatiously in my hand.
They smiled slightly, eyes following the motion. Probably they've played
with sheep bladders in a similar way. I flipped the toy to Melki, who
managed to bat it away while trying to catch it. She chased it down and
returned, compressing it thoughtfully between both hands.
Estri said something in a tone of command, surely the Meshir
equivalent of "I want one, too!"
Melki barked a response to her and she hung her head, eyes peeking
worriedly up at me from beneath eyebrows. Ignoring the byplay, I inflated
and tied another balloon, blue this time, purposefully making it slightly
larger. This was for my "baby," after all. Estri leaned close to watch
the tying operation. I tossed it to her from over her head. As it
drifted down she caught it neatly between both hands on the first try.
Melki spoke to me in a tone of protest, either because I had made the
child's toy larger or made it too easily caught. I grinned at her and
blew up a green one. When it was tied, I removed the straight pin
previously stuck in my lapel and poked it into the balloon, which exploded
nicely. With echoes. Both girls jumped back, eyes wide, then looked
apprehensively at their own toys. They hadn't seen my pin.
I inflated a fourth balloon but failed to tie it. Holding it at arm's
length, I said, "Watch this!" -- and released it. Again the results were
most satisfactory. It farted its way high into the air and turned two or
three loops before falling limply to the rock floor twenty feet away. The
girls' eyes were round as marbles. Both burst into laughter, probably at
the sound. Estri ran for the flabby remains and returned holding it
aloft, deliberately making it sway back and forth. Suddenly she put it to
her lips. I remember from childhood that not everyone has the skill to
seal a balloon's mouthpiece tightly enough to retain the previous puffs
while more wind is gathered. You have to hook the rolled end under your
teeth. A lot of kids must be told that, but not Estri. In no time she
made her second toy larger than I had -- and tied it off perfectly! Of
course the first inflation stretches the rubber, allowing greater
enlargement the second time, and her fingers were half the size of mine.
Still, her cleverness astonished me.
Melki looked at me, her laughter dying. She released her toy to float
to the ground and knelt before me, asking me something in a tone of
entreaty.
"Want to try it, too?" I responded, fishing out a yellow one for her.
But her hands went to my belt. She knows the workings of a man's belt
and fly. My britches sagged toward my knees. Her hands dropped to my
boots, tugging enough to communicate her intent.
"Want a different game, do you? You ain't seen nothing yet, honey."
But she tugged again. Why not? If anything it was even hotter near
the flame. I sat down on the carpet and let her pull my boots off, which
she accomplished without bothering with the zippers. Strong girl! I
resolved to ask Constance her age. In this part of the world incomplete
sexual development may be more indicative of less vitamins than less
years.
She had to have my shorts, too, but left me my wristwatch. With all
that out of the way, I sat back down beside the parts box and called Estri
away from her gleeful chase of re-inflated balloons. As she approached,
Melki sat beside me, leaned against my shoulder and took hold of my dick,
which was already beginning to stir in anticipation of just that
accomplishment.
But I inflated yet another balloon and while Estri watched closely,
stretched the mouthpiece wide between fingers and thumbs. It squealed
loudly, of course, and lasted long enough for me to control the pitch by
varying the tension. Estri was fascinated and immediately tried it for
herself. By this time, however, she had worked and reworked her balloon
so much that it could generate little internal pressure. All it produced
was a series of farts. Both girls laughed. With twinkling intent Estri's
eyes trained on mine over her shoulder while she swung her buttocks
around. She duplicated the sound of her balloon anally. I distinctly saw
the tiny pink rose flutter open.
Melki was not amused. Her free hand lashed out and left a pale palm
print on an upturned cheek. Her imprecatory bark underscored the child's
cry of pain. I caught the poised arm before it could inflict further
punishment.
"Easy, easy," I cautioned. "I thought it was cute." Melki sniffed
disdainfully but accepted my authority.
The blow must have hurt. Estri rubbed the offended buttock before
plopping onto the carpet against my other shoulder. Then she did
something unique in my experience. She leaned forward and suckled my
nipple. My god, I'd forgotten I possessed such a thing! I could
distinctly feel her working tongue, tickling pleasantly.
Why won't women suck a man's tit?
With a dick available? Stupid question.
The sensation embarrassed me somehow. Perhaps because the sucker's
nipple was smaller than the suckee's. I straightened her up, kissed her
cheek and handed her a fresh balloon. In no time she was making musical
notes and giggling irrepressibly. I listened in admiration. Her soprano
giggle was far better music than the brassy wailing of stretched rubber.
I offered a new balloon to Melki. She took it in her free hand but
had no luck with its inflation until I pulled back my lips and showed her
the trick of catching it behind the teeth. When half full, it slipped
free. She shrugged as it fluttered away. Her attention returned to the
thing in her other hand, now approaching full size.
"Wait'll you see my next trick," I told her.
I got out a ball of twine, the two-pound bottle of helium and a fresh
balloon that I proceeded to inflate from the bottle. Female eyebrows rose
with interest, but when I tied it off and released it, their eyes nearly
popped from their faces. Momentarily Melki even forgot my dick. Both
girls sprang to their feet to watch the orange ovoid soar steadily toward
the irregular ceiling. It lodged in a crevice maybe forty feet over our
heads.
Female faces regarded me with an expression best characterized as
worship. I laughed with pleasure. Normally it's hard for a man to
impress a woman he's screwed. Youth and ignorance do make it easier.
Still their reaction tickled me, as Grandpa used to say, right down to the
ground!
The next trick was to attach the twine. Melki, as the elder, got the
first restrained floater. She took the levitated end of twine, eyes big
as saucers -- and promptly let it get away from her. Up to the ceiling it
flew, string dangling forlornly. Not so Estri. On her turn when the toy
reached the end of its tether, she snapped the twine up and down between
thumb and forefinger, gauging the upward force, delighted that the balloon
ten feet above her obeyed her summons. Suddenly her eyes narrowed with an
idea. She put an excited question to me. Melki laughed scornfully and
spoke a clearly disappointing response. The child turned away, chin set.
Her face expresses feelings very well, and I'm learning to read it. She
was determined to wait patiently for something until hell freezes over.
Not for the first time I wished I could understand their speech.
Melki swung her legs out away from me, grasped me about the hips and
lowered her face into my lap. The little one had outdone her <blowing>,
but no defect was evident in her <suction>. One hand cupped my balls
while her mouth bobbed smoothly up and down over most of the shaft. She
was well along toward breaking the Meshir jism rule when Estri joggled my
shoulder, holding a fresh balloon and one end of the twine.
It was a sufficient distraction. I fitted the balloon mouthpiece over
the valve on the bottle, then had Estri substitute her own fingers to
clamp it. When she held it securely, I twirled my fingers, showing her
how to open the valve. When the balloon was full, I twirled them
backward. She understood and immediately closed it. She had already
watched me tie the twine on the balloon; now she repeated my actions
perfectly. Her eyes glowed above her joyous giggle as the toy soared to
the limit of the twine. I don't care how unremarkable she may seem to her
sisters: my little one is bright as she is beautiful!
She filled several balloons with helium, but conceived the idea of
tying the dangling twine to tassells on the carpet edges, decorating our
corner of the cavern with hovering globes. She filled another but played
out the twine instead of breaking it at ten feet as I had been doing. I
leaned back on extended hands, trying to ignore the silken ministration
between my legs, and watched her guide the ovoid to the highest point in
the cavern, whereupon she looped the bottom of the twine about her wrist.
With generous arm sweeps hand to hand she drew the balloon rapidly down to
her, tossed my jacket over it to hold it and ran across the floor,
stretching out the attached twine. Reaching the end, she turned about and
marched back to me, lengthening her strides, mouth working synchronously.
I guessed her purpose and counted along with her. Twenty-four paces!
She stopped beside me, leaned down and spoke distinctly to Melki,
whose bobbing head never faltered. The beautiful little face turned
around to me and sighed in exasperation. "About seventy feet high, do you
make it?" I said, smiling proudly at her, my little surveyor, the
prettiest and nakedest I ever saw. She sighed again, unwrapping the twine
from her wrist.
In a sudden excess of affection I caught her about the hips and fell
back upon the carpet, drawing her down with me. I had meant to stretch
her on my chest, but she twisted forward, opening her legs upon my face.
An accident? I don't think so; she has a fine memory. What happened
next certainly was no accident. Yes, this time without the excuse of
ignorance, I did with enthusiasm and malice aforethought pass my wet
tongue many times over and into every cranny of a cunt too immature to
deserve the name. Confessing to that act would put me away for twenty
years in my home town, if I wasn't lynched first.
Her initial giggles became squeals, her hands clutched my hair and she
shivered violently as I released three days' anticipation of this at my
other end. When sensibility returned I wondered if I had broken the
Meshir rule. But no! As the child fell panting to one side, I discovered
Melki kneeling across my hips, grinning smugly at me, having swapped
receptacles too smoothly to notice.
She questioned the little one, who responded with a single syllable
that seemed to please her. Melki leaned down upon me, hard nipples
against my chest, and kissed me solidly on the mouth, tongue probing. I
responded in kind, thrusting my hips against her weight. She wriggled her
bottom side to side, forward and back, settling upon an angle that
threatened to disconnect us but maintained pressure on the clit. She rose
enough for her knees to close above my chest, somehow tightening the grip
on my dick. This was clearly a young lady of experience, one who knew how
to get what she wanted. She concentrated on her objective. Soon, her
body quivering, she rose fully to a sitting position, eyes and mouth
clenched, and emitted a series of nasal bleats that sounded like a
distressed sheep. The mimicry was so loud and precise that I nearly lost
my erection in fascination. From the corner of my eye I saw Estri
studying us with parted lips.
Melki's weight jammed my glans under her cervix. Maybe that accounted
for the power of her seizure. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she
collapsed off me backward, legs flipping out past my shoulders. A
cream-streaked pink cunt gaped beyond my still standing dick. What a
lovely sight that is!
But she didn't move. I slithered out from under her, rolled forward
onto my knees, reached over her and raised her head in my hand. To my
relief her eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly. At that moment a
contralto voice sounded teasingly above me.
"You do have some of Ahriman's skill, don't you, Harry?"
I looked up into Constance's grin. "She worried me," I explained.
Her gaze shifted to my wet dick. She chuckled, causing the gems of
her necklace to flash fire. "And I see just how!"
"I mean, she seemed to pass out."
"It's called the 'little death,' I forget by whom."
"Hemingway," I guessed.
"Surely not! What could a man know of it?"
"Enough for envy," I retorted with feeling.
The reclining girl interrupted with a brief statement to the woman,
who grinned at me. "Melki asserts that her husband is the greatest man
alive."
"I've been wondering how many she's tried," I responded, remembering
the knees closed on my chest.
"Did she displease you?"
"Never that!"
Constance sniffed. "Then shall I convey your gratitude?"
"I am grateful," I admitted, "to both of them."
"What did you do to Estri?"
"Love her. I assure you, madam, that I've broken no Meshir rule that
I know of." Even if only by Melki's maneuverability, I didn't say.
She spoke briefly. Both girls turned pleased smiles upon me.
"Thanks for the 'thank you,' I said, smiling back.
Constance gestured at the hovering balloons. "This is your work, of
course. Where did you get the helium? Hopefully it <is> helium!"
"From the Tehran airport weather office. I know better than to
release hydrogen near an open flame, but it constantly amazes me,
Constance, that <you> know such things!"
"'Constantly,'" she repeated. "Aren't you harrying the pun, Harry?"
"God!" I exclaimed, curling my lip. "Do you always return better than
you get?"
She took a breath. "No, I'm afraid not."
"Oh, yeah? You can't prove it by me."
She cocked an eyebrow. "What <can> I prove by you?"
"Unmatched hospitality, for one thing."
Her chin rose. "This is only a cavern of worthless women."
I grinned sourly. "What's your game now, Constance? I can't conceive
of those two words ever belonging together."
She shook her head. "Even Zoroaster's teaching cannot explain how
Western and Eastern cultural attitudes became so different in that
respect."
"Cultural? Who cares about cultures! What you just heard was Harry
Stone's attitude."
"My husband agreed with you. But you're quite right; his father
certainly didn't."
I studied her. "What's your problem, Constance? Did I bring too much
junk?"
"No, Harry." Again she took a deep breath. "How can a cavern of
worthless women hope to match the largess you fetched this morning?"
"Constance, please!" I stood up and put out my arms to her. She
threw off her robe before hugging herself against me. Nothing fills a
man's arms like the fully formed female! She wouldn't kiss me. Ah, yes,
witnesses! But she ground soft breasts into my chest and firm belly
against my lingering erection. Her odor was stronger -- she'd likely been
working as a porter herself -- but by no means was it disagreeable. She
wrapped one of her legs around one of mine. The hair tickled. Suddenly I
wanted to dive into her headfirst.
First things first. I said, "Speaking of largess, I don't know
anywhere else in the world I could match yours of my first visit."
"Really, Harry? Did you never hear tales of the cribs of Bombay and
the girl throngs of Bangkok?"
"Far as I know, those are only tales."
She grunted. "Fas as I know, too. But your gifts are so wonderful:
penicillin tablets! A liter of multivitamins! Brassieres! Harry, how
could you guess the heaviness of mature breasts?"
"I've been told of it. For your information, that gross of brassieres
wouldn't sell. The Tehran PX meant to throw them out. Apparently their
chest size is too small."
"Not for <our> women!" She chuckled. "But, Harry, what do you expect
us to do with two dozen vaginal tampons?"
"Too big?"
"Too few! If we learned to use them, we'd need lorry loads!"
"Oh. I guess that's right. Sorry."
She lifted her chin off my shoulder and looked around. "Now I
understand those packs of toy balloons. You meant them for all our
children, didn't you?"
"I remember how children love them. Estri and Melki can show the
others some tricks. I'll leave the helium bottle, but I think Estri
pretty well emptied it. Speaking of Estri ..."
"What about her?"
"She's one of the brightest kids I ever saw."
"Is she?"
"She sure is! Constance ... if you think you owe me anything, you can
pay by teaching her English."
Dark eyes twinkled on mine. "I can, can I? Estri, come here."
My two "wives" were sitting together, cutely arm in arm, somewhat
apart from and behind the adults. At Constance's command, rendered in
English without gesture and without looking, the little one disentangled
herself, got to her feet and came to our side.
I commented, "So you've already begun!"
The woman said, "Estri, say 'hello' to Harry."
The girl looked up earnestly, licking her lips. Softly she uttered,
"Hello, my huss-ban'." Her voice softened further. "I lovv you all the
yearss that come."
Clearly a memorized speech, but clearly sincere, if -- "She knows
what it means?"
"Oh, yes. Those are her sentiments. She but asked me how to say
them. That was three days ago, and she has forgot a word or two. I told
you, they are serious about this."
I hugged the child against me. She kissed the skin of my chest. "You
sweetheart," I murmurred into the crown of her head.
Beyond her Melki rose to her feet with a look of longing. Constance
followed my gaze, noting with evident satisfaction, "I see that she caught
your semen properly."
The girl's thighs glittered with it. Suddenly I understood for the
first time why penetration beyond climax is designed to be intolerable:
so you won't squish the seminal fluid back out of the woman.
But if another man is waiting -- Aha! That's why she also can't
stand more clit banging... No, this would only work if they came off
together, which everyone says is damned rare. Even in the state of
nature?
Pardon the digression. I asked, "Is Melki studying English, too?"
"Melki has been busy."
"Busy?"
"Until you assert your claim, if you do, she must continue to serve as
any other. She is quite popular."
"Popular?"
"Many visitors know her by name."
"What is she, Constance, about fourteen?"
My voice may have betrayed a certain vexation. The woman cocked an
eyebrow. "She's older than that. But what if she weren't? <You> haven't
refused her!"
"No, I haven't." I waved for the girl to join us, which she promptly
did, pressing herself with a smile into my other side. I put an arm
around her, too, but my enthusiasm for her had taken a blow. <How> busy?
Constance reported, "Melki has also learned Estri's speech. They
speculated who would get the chance to repeat it to you."
"Then why didn't they say it first thing?"
"That was my fault. I thought you'd find them more charming if they
welcomed you as Meshir wives do -- if there were any Meshir wives. Was I
wrong?"
"They were charming."
Melki returned to her original objective. Her hand crept between us
and enclosed my dick. Estri whispered something. Her face was
practically in my armpit. Presumably she meant the words for me. I
leaned an ear close and barely heard her. It was a request: "Make me
babee, huss-ban'?"
I squeezed her to show I'd understood -- assuming I had -- and said to
Constance, "This little one is precocious."
"Do you think so?"
"What is the Meshir rule for defloration?"
"When the first menses ceases, the candidate is presented to Ahriman."
The woman's eyes glittered. "I suspect you are about to ask <how> she is
presented. The Zoroastrians tortured us to discover that. They never
learned."
"Then I'll stay ignorant, too, thank you."
She grinned. "Of course a husband can perform in lieu of the god."
"I see. That aspect of marriage has survived in the West."
"But not with underage girls, I understand."
"Hmm. Some southern states permit it, I think, with the parents'
consent."
"Are you a Southerner, Harry?"
"I'm from the midwest. That's a good point. Who are Estri's
parents?"
"You can meet her mother, if you wish."
"But not her father, of course."
"Of course."
"Does she have siblings?"
Constance exchanged a few words with the child before returning to
English. "She says a brother and a sister. You understand, they are
almost certainly only half-siblings."
"What kind of life does she have here, Constance? Do you operate any
kind of school?"
The dark eyes glittered. "Yes, we do. She was attending a class when
you met her."
"Was she! And you were the teacher?"
"<You> were, Harry!"
I stared at her. "Do you teach anything besides dick handling?"
"Dick? Is that American for penis?"
"Well, do you?"
She shrugged. "Every society has religious instruction; we are no
different, except that here such instruction is little more than what you
choose to call 'dick handling.'"
"No math, science, literature -- nothing of the wide world?"
"The rudiments, Harry, though you would call them mostly false. We
teach Ahriman's cosmology."
"An anthropocentric flat Earth?"
"Precisely."
"<You> know better than that, Constance!"
"I may change things in time. Moreti supports me but many don't."
"Don't you even teach Farsi?"
"Why? The local dialect is closer to Meshir than Farsi."
"You wanted <books> in Farsi!"
"Because that or English is all we can manage. We have a woman who
reads and speaks Farsi well. I can barely communicate in it."
"The shah doesn't know you exist, does he?"
"Why should he? Speaking of books, Harry ... that was our only
disappointment."
"I know. Those paperbacks are a sample of what I could find. I
intend to order you some reference works tonight, but they'll take a
couple of weeks."
"Will you be here that long?"
"Yes. And another thing: I remember you saying that you have
writings in your own language. Similar to cuneiform, you said. But you
know how to use the Roman alphabet. Did you ever consider respelling your
language in Roman characters? If you did, you could find lots of
publishers."
Her eyes widened. "By Ahriman, I believe you're right!"
"I can help you arrange it, if you wish, after I return to the states --
if we can set up a mail conduit."
"How could we do that, Harry?"
While I thought on my answer, Melki spoke a question. "What?" I
wondered absently.
"She asks permission to suckle your penis."
I grunted. "She didn't ask before!"
"She wouldn't think to ask a man. It's <my> permission she wants."
The woman stepped back, grinning at me, as the girl knelt. In a
moment her breath stirred my pubic hair. Standing is a curiously
satisfying position for getting your dick sucked. Doesn't every man
appreciate such a show of female submission? Her mouth seemed to reshape
itself around me. Natural aptitude? More likely practice -- and lots of
it!
Estri hugged herself tighter into my armpit. She tilted her head to
study the proceedings, then looked up at me to gauge their efficacy. She
smiled in contentment at what she saw on my face. But it was the love in
her eyes that got to me. I squeezed her again. "You little sweetie!"
Constance nodded approvingly. "We are all sweet, Harry, for you."
I left Meshir this afternoon after a nap, dictated by exhaustion. The
three female bodies available to Constance had drained me. Told her I'd
return tomorrow. It's a Sunday, which should offer no obstacle at the
camp. The Meshir apparently have no sacred days.
"Make me [a] baby, husband." A woman of twenty-five could issue no
more compelling an invitation. That it can't be done upon the issuer, in
this case only eleven years old, is irrelevent to the compulsion. Still,
I won't try to make a baby on her, though Constance keeps hinting that I
should. Nobility? No danger of that. She's just too damned precious!
Not too precious to spare her a slobbery cunt licking, you'll notice.
But that doesn't hurt her, doesn't change her, whereas ripping out a
maidenhead does, regardless of who wants it, myself at the head of the
line.
Is there any <possible> way to spare her the life of Melki?
--
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