Submission of the Siren

by Bella Settarra

  “Perhaps we should wait for Governor Abrams before taking any pictures, dear,” Mrs. Loidi suggested, although she continued to pose.

  “When is he due, Ma’am?” Palben asked, topping up her glass.

  “We don’t know yet, do we Dunixi? It seems Saul’s been delayed somehow. We had word that he had docked safely but he seems to have disappeared since then. He hasn’t even checked in at his hotel yet. I do hope nothing’s happened to him.”

  “Heaven forbid!” Benat continued to click away, while dripping sarcasm from every pore.

  “This is my boss, Mrs. Jakinda Loidi,” Palben offered as he hoisted his slim frame onto the stool to the other side of Ademia.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Loidi.” Ademia’s sugary-sweet smile did nothing to warm the heart of the snooty lady who sat next to her.

  “I’m sure you are, dear,” Mrs. Loidi sneered, looking down her nose at the large girl in the small bikini.

  Ademia felt her heckles rise instantly, and a shudder travelled down her soft back, though she did her best to hide her feelings.

  Ligia rolled her eyes and shook her head, knowing that the poor woman would not know what she was letting herself in for, having procured the wrath of her fiery friend. She continued to flirt with the Governor, who already had his hand on her knee and was slurring his words.

  “I love your dress,” Ademia chatted to Mrs. Loidi, her sickly smile now a permanent fixture on her lovely, round face. “Is this what they call fashionable on Eastland?”

  Mrs. Loidi frowned, not sure how to take the young girl’s question, but then realized that Benat was still clicking away with his camera so she forced herself to smile back. “Yes it is, dear. I take it you’re not from around here?”

  “Oh no. Not yet, anyway,” Ademia continued, taking another sip of her wine. “My friend, Ligia, and I are from Refrainia.” She gestured toward the redhead who nodded in their direction, having heard her name.

  “Oh.” Mrs. Loidi looked shocked.

  “Oh I don’t expect you to have heard of it,” Ademia continued. “It’s only a small island. We do things very differently there.”

  “Yes, so I hear,” the older woman scorned. “You dress very differently too, I see.” She looked derisively at Ademia’s attire, but the young girl just giggled.

  “Oh yes. We don’t have fancy clothes like you.” Ademia sounded a little sad. “But, of course, all that will soon change when we all come to live here.”

  “What did you say?” Mrs. Loidi’s face was turning the shade of her dress now, and a little nerve on her neck started to twitch.

  “Oh, didn’t you know? A man called Mr. Durango is going to buy our island and tear down our homes so we will all be moving to Eastland very soon. It’s going to be so exciting!” Ademia enthused. “We’re going to live in houses like everyone else and get paid real money. I wonder if I can get a house near you! At the moment all we know is how to please men, but Mr. Durango seems to think that’s OK. There are plenty of men on Eastland, aren’t there, Mrs. Loidi?”

  The older woman glanced over to where the Governor was fondling Ligia’s cheek, and her anger ratcheted up another couple of notches. “I don’t think you will all be coming to live on Eastland.” Her tone was very final.

  “Oh but we are. You see, Mr. Durango has told the court that we will all be able to live where we want to, once he’s bought our island, and none of us want to travel all the way to Westland, so we’ve all decided to settle here. There are some men coming as well, all sailors who will be able to work here. Did you see us all when we came to the courthouse?” Ademia was thoroughly enjoying watching the woman’s blood pressure rise.

  “Yes, I did.” Mrs. Loidi took a large glug of her champagne, as a vision of the motley crew evidently passed in front of her bulging eyes. Her voice was a little raspy as she fought to keep hold of her composure.

  “Oh good. How do you fancy having us all as your neighbours then, Mrs. Loidi? It’s going to be such fun, isn’t it?”

  “No. No—I mean, I don’t think that’s exactly what Mr. Durango had in mind when he said he wanted to purchase the island.” The older lady was stuttering now. A loud guffaw from the Governor told her she could wave good-bye to any ideas she may have had about getting back-up from that quarter.

  “Hey, maybe we can give your women some tips on how to keep their men happy?” Ademia’s eyes glinted as she continued, “Do you know about the women of Refrainia, Mrs. Loidi?”

  “I—well, yes, I heard some rumours.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret. It’s all true!” Ademia tried to sound conspiratorial but couldn’t help sounding proud instead.

  “What? You’re—prostitutes?”

  “Shush, don’t tell everyone. There’s only two of us here at the moment and we couldn’t cope with the stampede if all these men wanted us now.” Ademia tried to whisper but was finding it so difficult not to giggle.

  Ligia looked over with a smirk, guessing exactly what her friend was up to.

  “What’re you ladies whispering about?” Palben leaned over to try to hear their conversation, much to Mrs. Loidi’s outrage.

  “This is a private conversation, young man. I would thank you to keep your distance.” Mrs. Loidi’s angry voice was much louder than she intended and she hurriedly looked around her as she realized how much attention she was attracting. She forced out a laugh to try to cover up her embarrassment, though it fooled no one. Click-click. Benat Ugarte was shooting some very unflattering photographs tonight.

  * * * *

  As her party took their seats at the bar, Kalliope seized her chance to sneak away unnoticed. She made her way through the crowded tavern and out into the fresh air. She could still smell the faint scent of salt in the air, and welcomed it after the dingy sweatiness of the congested room.

  It was beginning to become dark, and she marvelled at the street lamps which adorned either side of the road as she made her way toward the courthouse. She remembered that it wasn’t very far, and soon came to some familiar surroundings. The large blue house was unmistakeable as it towered over its neighbours in a neat row of neatly manicured front gardens and austere-looking buildings. These were nothing like the little huts of Refrainia.

  Kalliope smiled to herself. At least Zigor hadn’t lied about his big house. He was obviously as rich as he had claimed. Her flip-flops slapped her feet as she climbed the white steps which led up to his large, oak front door. She turned the handle and was surprised to find it wouldn’t open. Of course, this was nothing like Refrainia, she thought with a frown. It might look lovely, but there was no way she could ever imagine living somewhere where you had to lock your front door.

  She made her way around the side of the house and saw lights on toward the back. The windows all had glass in, so it took her a few minutes to work out how a sash worked, but she soon had the heavy pane sliding upward, allowing herself plenty of space to climb in. A large windowsill afforded her plenty of room to steady her slim frame before she clambered down into a large dining room. Her eyes widened as she stared around at the huge table which still had lots of food laid out, and about ten chairs around it, although only two seemed to have been used tonight. Her stomach rumbled on cue as she realized that she hadn’t eaten in hours, and she helped herself to some of the delicious food. Something red in a wine glass took her eye and she drank it down. It tasted fruity and was smooth and warm as it slid easily down her throat. It was nothing like the wine she had ever tasted. She ate some more of the lovely food, not at all sure what it was, just that it tasted scrumptious. A low-slung chandelier hung over the table, with lots of twinkling lights that sparkled on the glassware and highly polished porcelain. She felt something soft under her feet and looked down to see an incredibly thick, deep-red carpet that lined the whole room. Immediately she kicked off her flip-flops and let her bare feet sink into the rich pile. It felt so wonderful she didn’t want to move. She sat on one of the high-backed chairs with its overstuf
fed cushion and closed her eyes as she relished the different sensations.

  Muffled voices came from overhead, which piqued her interest. Someone was here with Zigor. She reluctantly left the room and made her way across the dimly lit hallway to a sweeping staircase that rose in an arc to the first floor. She had never seen anything like it, and smiled to notice that it was also carpeted, though this cream covering was not quite as plush as the red had been. Creeping stealthily up the staircase, she was aware of the voices becoming a little louder. Then, some large portraits that lined the walls on the way upstairs took her attention. Some of the pictures looked very old, and everyone in them looked very odd, with a wide variety of outfits that must have spanned many years. She gripped the polished wooden balustrade, which ran the length of the staircase, as she turned her head up to see how far she had to climb. This was nothing like the narrow little steps that led upstairs in Hermandine’s old house back on the island.

  Eventually she arrived on the landing, which curved around in a large arc, with white painted doors leading off. A few doors down the hallway she could see a light flickering under the door, and heard the voices again. She wondered who Zigor’s houseguest might be, given that Benat was still at the bar up the road. This also led her to wonder who would be occupying the room on the other side of this door. She needn’t have worried, as she soon heard a familiar voice.

  “You are very beautiful.” Zigor’s unmistakeable tone rumbled through the door. She took a step back, startled. How can he see me? She stared at the door, trying to figure out how he could see through it when she couldn’t. Putting a hand on the solid wood, she leaned in closer again.

  “Here, allow me.” Zigor was as gallant as she remembered. She waited, convinced that he was about to open the door for her, as she ran a hand through her long, black hair in preparation. Nothing. She leaned forward again, listening hard, hoping to hear the click of the doorknob.

  “You’re ready for me, I see,” he murmured. She smiled, nodding at the door, eagerly.

  “Let me taste you, my beauty.” His voice was louder this time, and a little hoarse. She knew exactly what he meant from their encounter on the beach the other day. This time she didn’t wait for him to open the door, but grabbed the handle and yanked it herself.

  “Aah!” a woman screamed from within the room, and Kalliope strained her eyes in the candlelight to see a very plain, skinny lady in a very short nightdress lying on the bed holding onto the bars at the top of a black iron bed frame. Zigor’s face lay over her bare pussy, his tongue still hanging out, as his face turned to the door in astonishment.

  Kalliope’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment as she realized that she had just heard Zigor use the same lines on this woman as he had used on her! She stared at them both before turning on her heel and running back down the massive staircase. The woman was still screaming and Zigor was shouting, though none of it made any sense. Kalliope felt hot tears flood her face and her vision was blurry as she ran. She could hear Zigor yelling at her as he followed her down the stairs. Once in the bottom hallway she stopped momentarily and looked back to see him running after her. Although shocked, she let out a small laugh as she saw his naked body wobbling toward her. She hadn’t noticed how flabby he was, and his tiny cock had almost disappeared! He wasn’t a bit how she had remembered him. Behind him followed a woman who was so skinny her ribs could be seen though her flimsy yellow nightdress. Her scrawny legs were gangly as she rushed down the stairs behind him, and her flat, straight, mousy hair stuck to the sides of her head in a most incongruous fashion. The poor woman was so plain she was verging on ugly. Her eyes were large, but not in a beautiful way, they seemed to protrude from her bony face, as did her teeth.

  “Kally, wait!” Zigor urged as he panted toward her.

  Not fucking likely! She peered down the hallway and saw what looked like a little passageway which must lead to the front door. Running toward it she heard the woman screech at him.

  “You know her? How do you know her? Who is she?” The woman’s shrill voice shrieked angrily at him.

  “Never mind that now!” Zigor ordered.

  Kalliope smirked to herself, thinking how pathetic he sounded. He was nothing like her butch, dominant Rechavia. Her heart wrenched as she suddenly thought of him. God, I wish he were here now! She giggled aloud as the thought of Rech walking in now crossed her mind. He would definitely kill Zigor this time.

  She reached the front door and pulled at the handle, forgetting, of course, that it was locked. She tugged at the handle, trying to twist it both ways, but it was no use. Zigor and the woman were soon at her side, yelling. She hardly heard the sound of the key in the lock from the other side and leapt aside as the door burst open and a bright flash almost blinded her. There were several more flashes and a woman in a bright red dress filled the doorway. There were lots more screaming and shouting before Kalliope realized that this was the woman from the courtroom, closely followed by Benat and Ligia, then Ademia and Palben, with a short fat man bringing up the rear. Zigor, who was completely naked, and the plain woman, stepped back into the house as the rest of the throng followed them in.

  “Yera!” The woman in red gasped. She looked like she was about to collapse. “How could you?”

  “Mother!” The skinny woman, who turned out to be called Yera, looked totally horrified to see her mother in her boyfriend’s hallway, and ran upstairs, closely followed by Zigor. The rest of the party just stared at the two bodies running up the massive stairwell, although Benat couldn’t resist taking another couple of snaps.

  “Perhaps you should sit down, Mrs. Loidi,” suggested Palben, pulling up a hall chair for the poor woman. She slumped into it without a word.

  “I think that’s enough photographs for one night, Benat,” Ligia giggled, holding out her hand for the camera.

  Ademia closed the front door. “Why don’t we sit down somewhere more comfortable?”

  “Good idea,” Ligia said, taking the camera from Benat and linking arms with Kalliope.

  “The sitting room is through here,” Mrs. Loidi announced, staggering to her feet to lead the way.

  They sat on huge plush cream sofas in a splendid cream and gold sitting room with splashes of burgundy adding a little colour.

  “Spoilsport.” Benat’s words were a little slurred, as he pulled a face at Ligia who was examining his camera.

  “You can have this back, just show me how to get the pictures out,” she said, frowning at the new-fangled object.

  Benat laughed and leaned over. He opened a little door at the back of the camera and handed her a tiny microchip. “They’re on here,” he said, offering it to her, “but you won’t be able to access them without a computer.”

  “OK,” she said with a smile, and slipped the chip into the bra of her bikini. Benat gave her a salacious look while Mrs. Loidi tutted loudly. Kalliope looked over at the older lady and raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, you’re all in here, good.” Zigor burst in through the open door, trying to look nonchalant. Yera scurried in behind him, blushing profusely. Both were now decently dressed, at least.

  “I don’t know what you think you were up to, young lady, but you and I shall be having words,” Mrs. Loidi scolded, glaring at her daughter.

  “Now come along, Mommy dearest, let’s not be hasty about all this.” Zigor tried his best to gloss over the proceedings but Mrs. Loidi was having none of it.

  “Never you mind Mommy dearest, young man!” Her face was bright red with indignity and rage as she stood up. “We are not related and after your shenanigans with my daughter this evening we never shall be!”

  “Now let’s not make any snap decisions tonight…” began Zigor hurriedly.

  “You should have thought about that before you started carrying on with my daughter!” Mrs. Loidi’s mind was firmly made up.

  “But what about the island, mother?” Yera’s voice was a high-pitched whine.

  “You will not have anythi
ng to do with that island, my girl, d’you hear me?”

  “But Zigor is buying it for me as a wedding present!” Yera was on the verge of throwing a tantrum, complete with stamping her foot.

  “Yes and we’re all so much looking forward to coming over to live on Eastland,” Ademia added with a wicked grin. “We were hoping to be neighbours, weren’t we, Mrs. Loidi?”

  “We most certainly were not!” The older lady was becoming quite angry now as she stormed toward the doorway. “Come on, Yera, we’re leaving and you will have nothing more to do with this—this cad!”

  “Now see here.” Zigor huffed indignantly.

  “Oh I see all right, young man.” Mrs. Loidi rounded on him, throwing out her ample bosom in an attempt to square up to him. “I see that you were planning to purchase that awful island and bring all of its dreadful inhabitants over here. Those prostitutes would corrupt all of our young men and goodness knows how they would affect our young ladies. Those people are best left where they are with a good amount of ocean between them and any respectable people. We certainly don’t want their type on Eastland.”

  “You speak for yourself,” Benat slurred lazily.

  “But what about the agreement?” Governor Osabene interjected.

  “You will not sign any such agreement, do you hear me?” The older lady pointed a podgy finger at him threateningly.

  “Now, see here. I am the Governor of Eastland.” His words were a little slurred too, and he sounded more as if he was trying to remind himself of who he was, rather than Mrs. Loidi.

  “I am well aware of that, since it was me who put you in that position,” she replied, towering over the little man, “and I can just as easily remove you from that position too if you don’t toe the line, do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, of course.” The Governor slunk back down in the enormous sofa, meekly.