Day 19 continued "Isle of Sweet Release"
Chapter Rating: R (be warned….sexual references of all sorts)
"Gandalf? I have not seen anything for quite a few minutes. Have we already passed through the Enchanted Isles?" Frodo looked left and right, then peered straight ahead, trying to will the swirling mist to part revealing clean, untroubled seas.
"We have not left the Enchanted Seas," the wizard quietly replied. "We are in the middle of the isles. Cirdan has managed to steer clear of several. Yet we might encounter more before passing through and beyond the enchantment."
"Such as…?" Frodo asked.
Gandalf looked down, clearly embarrassed, and remained silent as the mists swirled and thickened about the ship.
The muted grey fog was warm and strangely comforting. Frodo sighed and closed his eyes to better enjoy the relaxed feeling. A breeze from starboard fluttered soft as butterfly wings against his thick dark lashes. A familiar slightly mysterious floral scent drifted above the salt sea smells and into his consciousness.
'Annadara Chubb,' he suddenly thought. A pleasant memory of a lover from his late twenties. She and he were in his bedroom at Bag End one afternoon while Bilbo was conveniently away on business. She had reached through the open window and plucked a creamy white flower from the glossy forest green bush, bringing the fragrant blossom to him as he lay spent after making love. She languidly brushed the velvet flower across his closed eyes before climbing atop his prostrate form to melt into his heavy arms. 'Jasmine,' his thoughts continued. 'It was in bloom.' He smiled. 'Sam's Gaffer planted that bush the year I came to stay with Bilbo.'
Frodo opened his eyes, halfway expecting to see a jasmine bush planted in a bucket next to the mast. He was disappointed to see nothing except the soft grey mist. But the memory of that languid afternoon of youthful love lingered in the perfumed air.
He could swear the ever-present sensation of feather-light kisses intensified slightly. The kisses became more…ah…personal, and very, very distracting. The music of harps drifted in upon the soft, warm perfume impregnated breeze. Sensual, relaxing, enchanting music. The ship seemed to move more slowly, as if it too were remembering luscious times of lazy afternoon liaisons and didn't want them to end. Time itself almost stood still in the warm, sweet molasses of fog and water; music and perfume.
Another smell welled up beneath the floral – a more earthy, vibrant and essential smell. The smell of flesh ripe for love-making. Salty-sweet moisture and heat and primordial essence which propels the body and mind towards ecstasy.
"No," Frodo breathed out towards Gandalf. "Not…Oh, surely the Valar would not do this?"
"The Maia," the Wizard cleared his throat. "Tulkas' Maia designed this one…." Gandalf's voice faded and then vanished into the mist, along with his body.
Frodo's eyes were drawn to the right as another isle slowly revealed itself through the thick velvety clouds. The vapor slowly flowed from the isle and enveloped Gandalf, the ship and the rest of the world, leaving a clear path between Frodo and the gentle slope of a pearly white sand beach. Frodo could no longer sense any portion of the swan ship, save the smooth wood of the mast to which he was bound and the wooden deck upon which he stood.
He felt as if he were being pulled along inside dream. Time and motion melted until even the persistent rhythm of waves against the shore synchronized with the tempo of his strong heartbeat, and the pulses became one.
Frodo first noticed the tall young red-headed woman sauntering slowly down from a rocky garden path to the beach. She was staring directly at him, dressed in a thin, clingy transparent green robe which flowed about her athletic body. As the dress was sleeveless and gathered at the waist with white ribbons, Frodo could not help but see every ounce of her graceful form. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was back-lighted, making the garment seem as if it were only the suggestion of clothing, revealing every curve of her lithesome limbs and graceful breasts. Some trick of reflected sunlight upon the white sand also lighted her from in front. Frodo gulped and forced his eyes closed. 'My stars!' he thought, 'she's even a redhead down there!' He could feel himself blushing from his knees up to the top of his head, with a full flush seeming to lodge itself directly in his groin.
'Oh, this will not do,' he thought. 'Must maintain control….'
"Fro…do…."
A husky musical alto voice floated across the musky breeze. She was the voice of sex.
"Fro…do…. We are so happy you have finally arrived."
He could not help himself. He had to see.
A couple more beautiful young women had joined the redhead on the beach. They stood with arms interlocked about each other's perfect waists, gently swaying to the rhythm of his thumping heart. He was embarrassed as he realized his erection was growing, despite his attempt to maintain control.
The lass to the redhead's right was a curvaceous goddess with suntanned rosy skin and soft, relaxed curls so golden they almost flamed in the sunshine. Her breasts were full and rose-tipped, and her ample hips beckoned him. The female on the left was slightly shorter than her sisters, and was a dark, sultry beauty with glossy chestnut hair falling in waves to her buttocks. She smiled and pearly white teeth flashed from a blood-red generous mouth.
Frodo's mouth opened in amazement at their beauty. He couldn't really tell if any of them had on any clothing or not. 'Oh, my!' His groin tightened and swelled in appreciation of the vision. Frodo quickly closed his eyes and tried to slow his ever-increasing breathing. 'Math!' he thought. 'I need to control myself. Oh, stars! Do some math. That's what Bilbo always told me to do. Think of multiplication tables. That will take your mind off of…of….'
"Come to us, Fro…do…" they sang in sweet harmony. Frodo could hear the harp music intensifying into a mesmerizing lay of sweetness and tranquility. "Come to us, Fro…do…. We've waited for you. We are yours. We are only here for you. Come to us, Fro…do…. Come!"
He heard a splash. Any thoughts of math flew crashing out of his head as quick as a summer hailstorm. Another brunette was wading into the ocean, thigh-deep in the water, coming towards the ship, which seemed to have stopped its forward motion altogether. Once she knew she had Frodo's attention, she quickly dipped down into a wave, then stood up. The gossamer white dress she was wearing instantly became a second, transparent skin, clinging to her small breasts and accentuating her hourglass figure. Her wet locks clung to her torso like vines clinging to a statue, accentuating her strong shoulders and narrow waist. Frodo could see right through the wet fabric, and his breath caught in a sudden tight lump of lust in his throat. She stood in the waves, her legs slightly spread and her arms open towards him. "Fro…do…. Come to me. I've been waiting for you for so long. I am here for you. Only you." She licked her perfect crimson lips and smiled with temptation and lust.
He could now see others coming down to the beach. There were many different people on this isle; females, males, and some who could not be classified so simply. All unique. All healthy and strong and young. All stunningly beautiful. Some were alone. Some had formed couples; their arms interlocked and playfully caressing their mate while gazing at the Ringbearer. He was slightly startled to see a couple of females equally flirting with themselves and with him.
"We have whatever you desire, Fro…do…. What ever you desire." The redhead called to him. "There is no right or wrong here. There is only love and acceptance. Beauty and music. Peace and rest. You have experienced these before. We understand and believe. Come! Come to us and experience love again! What you had in Middle Earth pales in comparison to what we offer. You may have any of us; any way you wish."
"Any of us…" the blonde echoed.
"Any of us…" the two young women sang and then kissed each other; their hands exploring the curves of their hips and reaching around to grasp a firm buttock.
"Any of us…" a baritone voice sang. Frodo noticed a couple of handsome young men with their arms entwined. The taller of the two smiled at Frodo, then turned and kissed his lover full on the mouth. "We can teach you the myriad ways of love, Fro…do…."
"Come join us, Fro…do…." A trio of a golden-haired female and two dark men smiled and waved at him. "You may have whatever you desire!"
"Gandalf!" No reply. Frodo looked wildly around for the wizard, but could only see fog. He was loosing control of his body with the visual stimulation and the continuous invisible kisses.
He heard another splash. Looking at the sparkling water, he could see the red-head and the dark brunette swimming towards the ship. Their strokes were long and strong. They would soon reach the side of the vessel.
"No," he mumbled through ragged breaths. He swallowed and tried to calm himself as a pair of dusky brown hands appeared on the starboard rail. He struggled against the ropes binding him to the mast, but the Elvish cords held him fast. "Gandalf!" Frodo desperately looked to his left, where the wizard should have been, but saw nothing except the thick milky fog.
"There is no need for anyone else, Fro…do…"
A soft, wet hand caressed his right cheek, and he turned to find himself staring into a pair of liquid green eyes.
"We can supply everything your heart and body require," the red-head purred into his ear. She leaned her perfect body against his bound chest, and gently kissed his mouth, lingering on his lower lip just enough to show him that she knew exactly how to please a man. Her hands rested upon his chest, gently caressing his tight muscles. Frodo felt his manhood rising again, and closed his eyes in a vain hope to resist the temptress.
Another pair of hands found his ear tips. A wet tongue flicked along the side of his exposed neck, sending shivers of desire and anticipation down his spine, lodging in his tightening groin.
"Please…" he stammered, trying to clear his throat. "Please…don't," he whispered, trying again to free his restrained hands. The ropes held tight.
The hands continued to trace patterns of desire upon his face, neck and torso. "Why not?" the silky voice practically panted into his ear. "Is this not pleasant? You have known love before. You may have it again. We will do whatever it is you desire. Don't you want to?"
Before he could answer, ripe lips closed upon his, and a hot tongue teased itself inside his suddenly willing mouth. She tasted of cinnamon and ripe cherries. Hands worked their way down his sides and towards…
"No!" He panted as his eyes flew open in panic. "Stop! What you are doing is wrong!"
The hands hesitated. "We love you," the red-head crooned into his mouth. She was inches from his flush face. "We can tell you are able to love us back. Why is this wrong? You desire it. I can taste your desire. I can smell your yearning. Your own heartbeat gives you away. How can this be wrong?"
"Because it is against my will," Frodo cried. "I am bound and cannot defend myself. You will devour me. What you are doing is…is rape. Please. Oh, please…stop. I beg you. Stop."
The two females backed away slightly. The brunette turned towards the shoreline, then back. "We must hurry," she whispered to the red-head.
"I can release your bonds, if you but give the word," the red-head said. She held Frodo's head in her milk-white hands and gently kissed him again, trailing her lips from his lips to below his left ear. "One word," she whispered. "Say 'yes' and I will free you to join us forever. Love and peace and beauty. Is not this desire in your heart?"
"No," he quietly replied into her jasmine-scented curls.
"We must leave now," the brunette emphatically said. She quickly kissed Frodo's cheek, then ran to the starboard rail and dove into the dark blue sea. The red-head stepped back from the hobbit, one perfect tear descending her rosy cheek. "I shall miss you, Fro…do…." She also turned, ran to the railing, and dove overboard.
The last thing Frodo saw of the isle before the mists closed in again, was the entire population standing waist-deep in the surf, stopped at some invisible barrier about 100 meters from the white sand beachfront, and the two women reluctantly swimming back to shore. Each person's face mirrored the same, sad, unfulfilled longing he felt within his loins and his heart.
A fresh breeze blew the perfumed fog away, revealing the swan ship. Gandalf was again beside him.
"Why didn't you help me, Gandalf?" Frodo whispered.
"I am not permitted to interfere with the designs of these enchanted isles," Gandalf replied. "I must let them run their course, regardless of what you say, or if you beg or scream or faint or even loose your bonds and abandon the ship. I warned you before you decided to attempt this, Frodo. Now, you must finish what you have begun, no matter what you experience."
"Are there many more isles to go?" Frodo asked.
"Only one," Gandalf replied. "Only one. And I cannot help you through that one either. I can stuff cotton in your ears and place a hood over your head so that you do not see or hear the last temptation. We have only a little time, but I could do this for you. What is your decision?"
Frodo thought about the offer for a moment. "No. I will see this thing through to the end. But thank you, Gandalf. I am grateful for the offer."
"You hobbits are certainly made of sturdy stuff," the wizard smiled, then turned serious. "Frodo, no matter what happens next, I will not experience whatever it is you are experiencing. You will be alone. Only you will know how you deal with the final test."