By: Kris Me
My name is Tristan Watson, and my story starts from when I was looking for work back in the nineties. I'd been unemployed for several months, and a job on an island sounded like it would be fun. I had no idea how it would change my life.
Copyright © Kris Me - 2016 - All rights reserved.
This story is my own work, and you must contact me before you copy more than one page or ten percent of the content, as per the copyright laws of Australia.
First Published by Storiesonline World Literature Company: 22/10/2016 as The Job.
This story links to the Keltrian Universe. It is based on Earth back in the early nineteen-nineties. I suggest that you read this book first or before you read Book 3 of the Amity series. (Also found on the site; Storiesonline.net)
~~ Adult Themes ~~
This book is part of an erotica science fiction series. The books may contain what some people consider vulgar language, descriptive sex scenes, violence, coercion, murder and/or rape scenes.
The series is NOT recommended for people who are under the legal age to access such stories, depending on the country of origin of the reader, and those people who are offended by the type of content mentioned.
Some scenes may describe heterosexual, same gender and/or group sexual activities. If you are homophobic, you may find some scenes in this series of book distasteful. In most cases, these scenes are small integral parts of the story.
This book doesn't contain bestiality (sex between a human and an animal) nor incest between persons who are closely related by blood.
If you find any of my assumptions fabricated, I would like to remind you this is a fiction story and I have probably taken liberties with reality, as you know it.
The characters and events aren't real, as much as we may like them to be. The facts about Lindeman Island, I believe to be true, except for in the cave.
(Note: The resort is currently being upgraded as it has been closed for some years. I hope they don't find my cave!)
Australian based dictionaries were used for reference, and Grammarly was used as part of the editing suite. The story was written in Microsoft Word.
If you find grammatical or spelling errors, they are not the fault of my editor or proofreaders who did try to fix my work. However, I do tend to fiddle around after the fact, so all errors are my own.
The book cover was designed in Microsoft Paint 3D using art that is my own, and a picture copied from Google Maps on the 08/12/2020.
The Wiki contains information about the Keltrian people, wizards, the Keltrian magical items, colloquialisms and adapted words that have been created for this universe. Maps, character lists and other information that may relate to this book could be found. Not all information may be relevant to this series of books.
If my Australian colloquialisms or terms need clarification, or you just wish to correspond, I'm more than happy to answer your emails if you send them to:
Thanks to my friends PapaKilo14 and Johnny Sinclair and the past readers who have offered suggestions to help fix errors.
Woo-hoo! I had a job.
Fuck! There was nothing like an economic depression to bum a bloke out. My name is Tristan Watson, and I've been a Sparky for several years. In the early nineteen-nineties, finding work in Queensland has been tough for a while.
I'd not had a job for a couple of months, and the credit card was damn near maxed and unemployment benefits only go so far. My brother and I had decided to move up the coast to Airlie Beach in the Whitsunday Region of Central Queensland.
Ryan had scored a job in a restaurant as a kitchen hand. He had started a Chef's apprenticeship several years before, but he had a falling out with his previous boss. The prick had refused to sign him off as complete. He was hoping to find someone here to take him on so he could get his accreditation.
Me, I was just looking for work, nothing was going on at home due to the lack of expansion in the area. Ryan was five years younger than my twenty-four years of age. I went to live with him to keep an eye on him for mum. Not that the arrangement worked out to well.
The job I had scored two weeks after we arrived was on Lindeman Island. Mum and dad had carted a load of stuff up for us and had Christmas with us. I did the job interview a couple of days before they came and was hired to start on the Monday after Christmas, so we really had something to celebrate.
Back in the early Nineties, Lindeman had a privately owned resort and one private residence, the rest of the Island was National Park. It is just one of the seventy-four islands in the Whitsunday Region. Other than the occasional cyclone, it is a gorgeous region to live in. Hamilton Island is one of the better-known islands, but I never did get there.
We tradies worked for ten days and then had four days off. So, I got to spend a long weekend every fortnight in Airlie with my brother and the mad bunch of mates that he had made at the restaurant. Chefs and kitchen-hands are a strange lot and party hard. I was to learn that the ones on the Island were no different.
I caught a bus to Mackay on the Friday before I started work, as I needed to get some new work clothes. I bummed around the city centre for the weekend and stayed at the Youth Hostel. I didn't go to the night clubs due to being light on cash after buying the things I needed for work.
Early Monday morning, I flew to Lindeman Island on this tiny little plane. That was cool until I saw the runway we were to land on. The back end of the runway sat at the base of the mountain. The front end finished on the edge of a cliff. The plane turned and came down over the mountain and dropped onto the runway.
I'm damn sure I wasn't the only one who hoped like hell the pilot pulled up before the end. It is a very short runway. Fortunately, for us, the guy had done this before, and he stopped the plane in time. He turned the plane around with room to spare and pulled up outside a simple corrugated tin covered area that was our reception point.
Personally, the reception area was a bit rustic and needed sprucing up. Anyhow, I was collected by the maintenance foreman, Mark, and then taken to Housekeeping's Office to be assigned my room. I had to fill in the forms with my personal details and make sure they had my banking details so I could get paid.
At the time, the Island was popular with young families and at peak occupancy. It was still the Christmas school holidays for another four weeks. The operators of the resort had just taken on ten new staff members, including me.
I was given a room in one of the old dongas that were near the runway. They had five of them, and this variety of temporary accommodation was split into four single rooms. Two dongas faced the other two, and we had a covered area between them. An ablutions donga closed in the far end. You got to look over the cliff and at the sea when you came out of that donga.
I was put in the dongas with eight other guys. The rest of the staff stayed in a two-story accommodation building that had recently been built for them. However, it was full at the time, and the girls were given preference.
I had to walk about 250m downhill, past the golf course Club House and tennis courts to get to the staff cafeteria. Then other 150m downhill to the workshop. From there it was another 600m down a steep decline to get to the resort. As you can guess, it was all uphill to get home. Well, it was one way to keep us fit.
It was fine on sunny days, but a bit of a pain when it rained. Also, the 100m of unpaved walkway, between the golf course and the runway wasn't covered, and it wasn't lit. We also had a gully you had to cross that always seemed to have water in it.
The gully and the bushes on either side were a pain to navigate when you were a bit tiddly or forgot your torch. We didn't have any streetlights to get from the canteen to the dongas at night, and I often forgot to have the bloody torch.
I slept in a room in the dongas for the first five weeks. It wasn't a bad room as you did have privacy and no roommate. It was just bloody inconvenient to get to the rest of the Island and the other amenities.
The staff considered that there were five main activities outside of work hours, golf, fishing, outrigger canoeing, drinking and sex, not necessarily in that order. If you hated paddling, golf and fishing and abstained from the last two, then you had better like reading, swimming and bushwalking.
Actually, I thought it was a cool place to live. The Island was a small town, and as far as work went, I had to learn to fix pretty much everything that was connected to electricity. It wasn't as if you could run down to the nearest store and pick up spares or a new item. Even sending stuff away to be fixed was a chore.
Everything came in on the plane or by ferry. Airlie was too small and expensive to use for ordering parts. So, they normally came in on the plane from Mackay in the morning, if you were lucky. The big stuff was trucked to Airlie or Mackay and then came via one of the ferries.
One of the rules on the Island was that the staff was not supposed to fraternise with the guests. I know it happened, but I was a good boy in that regards. There were more than enough hotties in the staff to keep me happy.
It amused me how often the staff changed over. In the months that I worked there, probably only about a quarter of the ninety-odd staff members that were there when I arrived were still there when I left. The rest had been replaced at least once, if not more often, even the manager.
The workers came from all walks of life and from everywhere in the world. At this time of year, being summer, a lot of them were back-packers or university students. They would hang around for about four to six weeks then they would move on again.
These people were the best choices for fun and light entertainment. You didn't have to worry too much about getting a reputation as give it a fortnight and those who may have known, were not there anymore.
I spent the first week, just getting to know the lay of the land. Fortunately, I'd learned enough in my previous jobs to not have too many problems settling in, work-wise. One of my primary jobs was sprucing up the old units on the eastern side of the hill that the main resort was on.
So, I had plenty to keep me occupied.
A little info about me.
My name is Tristin Watson, Tris for short. I'm about 176cm tall and have a slim build. I've got broad enough shoulders and had enough muscle density in the right places that it wasn't hard to tell that I was fit and looked after myself. I wouldn't call myself handsome, but I think I scrub up okay.
I keep my nondescript reddish-brown hair short. I wasn't into the mullet look that was popular at the time, but I did like a left-sided part, and the hair flipped over the top. I have been told that I have a wicked laugh and sexy aqua eyes, go figure.
I didn't have much trouble picking up blokes or sheilas, so I must have something going for me. Oh, that's one thing you might find a bit odd, as I'm bisexual. If the person took my fancy, I'm just as likely to say yes. Having bisexual or gay tendencies in any way shape or form wasn't something you advertised too loudly even in the nineties.
I'm also not scared of much. Crawling or hopping things, the sight of blood, high places or the dark were not issues for me. My pet hates are cockroaches and crows. I'm not scared of them; I just don't like them. Have you ever looked into a cockroach's face? Ugly little bastards.
Crows have those beady eyes that watch everything you do, and they will thieve the weirdest of things. I blame Steven Kings movie 'The Birds' for cementing my distaste of that bird.
My lack of fear makes me popular with the girls who did housework on the Island. They soon realised that I'd rescue the frogs, spiders and other crawly things from their rooms. I'd even get calls on the hand-held radio from the staff to come and save guests from the local inhabitants.
There were three other electricians on the Island with me. Mark Davis was the Maintenance Foreman. He was married to Anne, who ran the Housekeeping department. The Resort owners liked hiring couples if they could get them, as they tended to last longer on the Island than singles did.
The other two guys were around my age. David Ross and Brandon Jones were both still single. David had a girl back in Mackay, but he tried to convince us it wasn't serious, mostly because give him a couple of drinks and he got friendly with any sheila who would let him. He was a mad keen fisherman in his off-hours, so he was cool.
Brandon was younger by a year, and his passions were out-rigging, boats or any kind, surfing, skin-diving and getting wet in any way, shape or form. He loved the sea. He fished with David because it kept him happy and only if they went out in a boat and he could drive. In my first week, I learnt that Brandon was also entertaining one of the ladies from Housekeeping.
This suited me fine, as I generally didn't like getting that close to the guys I worked with. They weren't bad looking boys, but neither of them got my motor running. I was sharing the off-weekend with Brandon. He often went to Mackay rather than Airlie. Better shopping and his people lived there, he told me.
Two of the people I had flown in with were Kerry Smith and Trish White. Kerry was a cook, and she was working in our cafeteria, she did breakfast and lunch. Trish was working in one of the resort's shops. It sold trinkets, T-shirts and whatever was touristy.
They were both from somewhere in Victoria, where it snowed. They weren't really big on the heat and humidly of the Central Coastal area of Queensland. They were travelling around Australia and were planned to spend two or three months on the Island until the worst of the summer heat, was over.
They were nice sheilas, and I mostly hung around with them after work. Neither of them was drop-dead gorgeous, but I'd fuck 'em if they wanted me to. I had wondered about doing both of them together since they shared the same room.
Kerry was stockier in build and a bit on the cuddlier side, but I didn't mind having something to hang onto. She was a brown-eyed brunette and had lovely big boobs. She was about 10cm shorter than I was. Her hair wasn't a lot longer than mine either, though she didn't use a side part like me.
Trish was closer to 182cm tall, had medium-length dirty-blonde, straight hair, and she was very slim. She wore large glasses over her blue eyes and had a thin, longish nose. She didn't have much up top, but she did have lovely, long legs.
They were great girls, and they didn't mind having a drink and a laugh with me. We flirted for the first couple of weeks, but none of us made any moves on the other, and it didn't really bother me. They were my mates and good for sharing the downtime with.
I did get a hug and some very nice kisses for New Years from them both.
I had mostly behaved for the first couple of weeks on the Island.
I was planning on staying on the Island for at least six months. I was learning who were the permanents and who were the transients. My first bit of fluff was actually a cute little redhead named Kally Brown, and it was on my first Sunday night on the Island. She was leaving the next morning on the nine am flight.
A heap of us had decided to walk over to the west side of the golf course to share a couple of bottles of bubbly, while we watched the sunset. Kerry had packed a box with munchies, savoury biscuits, chunks of cheese, pickled onions, olives, salami and ham. They went down a treat, and we got a little tiddly.
As it got fully dark people packed up and headed back to the canteen for food that was more serious. I had brought one of the blankets and found I was waiting for the last couple of people to leave. I wasn't in a hurry, and it was a gorgeous night. There were no clouds, and the night sky was glorious to behold.
I don't mind if they left me where I was as there was more than enough starlight for me to find my way home. I was laying back, relaxed, enjoying a durrie, admiring the night sky and happy.
My star gazing was interrupted when Kally's head blotted them out. She giggled and said, "Did you know you're a hard bloke to get along?"
I looked at her in surprise. I'd seen her around and chatted with her a couple of times that we had gotten into the line for dinner, but she normally sat with a different crowd. I frowned, "I thought you were shagging Troy?"
She shook her head and said, "No, he's a lousy lay. We only did it once. He's been trying to get into Denise's pants since I give him the heave-ho. So, are you with Trish or Kelly?"
I shook my head, "Neither, we're just mates. We came in on the same flight and enjoy each other's conversation and friendly company."
She bent over me and laid one on me. She had nice mobile lips and tasted of wine. I was feeling pretty mellow and just let her run the show. We kissed for a while until she decided she needed a bit more. I'd not really touched her intimately during the kissing, but she had the desired effect on me.
Kally sat back, and in the dim light, I watched as she unbuttoned the front of the sundress she was wearing. As she slid off the thin straps, I got an eyeful since she wasn't wearing a bra. Things rapidly progressed from there until I grunted in pain.
In the process of helping me get my clothes off, after I had satisfied her immediate needs with my hand, she had managed to catch some of my pubes in the zip, I felt them rip out at the roots. She stopped and looked at me when I dropped my hand to retrieve the other pubes from the zip.
"Pesky zips," Kally said. "Get them off, so I don't do it again."
I was in full agreement. I lifted my hips and slid my shorts down. I pulled my knees back and dropped them over my lower legs and keeping hold of one side, I put them to the right side of me. I gave my crotch another quick rub. Kally moved, so she was between my legs and made herself comfortable.
I sighed in delight when she proceeded to say how sorry she was in her own delightful way. When she went to straddle me, I had to say, "Hate to say no, but I don't have any protection on me. I thought you were just going to give me a blowjob," I said.
She looked at me, surprised. "I'm on the pill and clean," she said indignantly.
For guys like me, condoms were a preference even if I wasn't a huge lover of them, but it was preferable to the alternatives. News stories were talking more and more about sexually transmitted diseases, so I had to be careful.
If she had been a Cal and not a Kally, I would have put a halt to the sex. I can say no, but in this case, I nodded okay. Once she had straddled me, she proceeded to demonstrate her ability to make a bloke happy.
"Oh, you rub me just right," she said as she rubbed me up the right way.
I was more than happy to get the girl off as it generally meant I got more satisfaction as well. She certainly knew how to ride a fella. We were both more than satisfied with the outcome and were both panting after we climaxed. We lay beside each other for a bit longer as we got our breath back and we let the cool night air dry the sweat off our bodies.
"Are you coming back to my room, Tristan?"
I shook my head and answered, "We start at seven, and I still have to walk back to the airport."
The sun hadn't set until around 6:30pm, and we had sat around drinking for at least another hour before people started heading back. I flicked my lighter on over my watch and as I suspected it was now going on nine.
By the time I walked her back to her place and then headed home, I'd kill at least another half hour, and I wanted a shower. If I were lucky, I'd be in bed just after ten. I liked at least seven hours of sleep, and I tended to be up with the sunrise around 5:30am. I also had a busy day planned for the next day.
She pouted, and I pulled down and kissed her hard. However, she couldn't change my mind, and I handed her the dress and put my pants back on. I looked around and picked up a couple of bottles that had been left behind. I grabbed the blanket and took her hand.
We chatted about why she was leaving, as we walked back across the golf course. We both knew the chances of us meeting up again were slim. I dropped her at her door. The hall was empty, and I kissed her and left.
I headed to me donga whistling a happy tune.
The next four days flew by.
I made a good start on the renovations I was doing to the old units. Even so, I was not sad to be going back to visit Ryan as I had missed him. My brother and I had a good relationship.
I took the ferry to Airlie on Friday. My mum had relatives in Airlie, and an uncle had rented us their old house just on the back of the main tourist area of Airlie Beach. The place was run-down, desperately needed painting, but it was clean. It was also in a great spot in that my brother Ryan only had to walk down the hill for about a klick to get to where he worked.
The fact we didn't own a car wasn't such a hardship, but it could get annoying. Most of everything else we needed was also within a reasonable walk. We only got a taxi to get the weekly shopping home, or Ryan got a mate to help.
The old Queenslander had two bedrooms upstairs. They were on the south side of the long lounge room. Across the eastern end in a row, were a separate loo and a bathroom with the shower over the tub. Beside it to the north, was the dining room at the end of the lounge.
The kitchen was in the north-east corner. The back stairs took you into the dining room. A long, wide enclosed verandah ran from the kitchen to the front door on the sea-side or of the north-side of the house. Two sets of doors opened into the lounge room.
The other verandah on the south ran down to the bathroom, and the two bedrooms had doors that opened into it and into the lounge room on the other side. If you left all the doors open and then opened the louvres on the verandahs, you got a nice breeze through the house.
The owners had built-in the underneath section of the house. It had a large entertainment area, two big bedrooms and space for two cars. They had added a small bathroom that had a loo, and a sink in one corner and a shower rose that just sprayed onto the painted cement floor. We never did bother to hang a shower curtain for it.
Ryan had managed to find two mates to move in with us to keep the rent down. I had to pay for lodgings on the Island and my share of the rent for the house, so I don't mind having my costs halved.
Since I was working on the Island and not there, for the most part, I had shifted my stuff into the smallest bedroom upstairs. Originally, I had one of the bigger rooms' downstairs. I had swapped the doorknob on the small bedroom to one that locked.
I'd then put a bolt across the doors to the verandah from inside the room so they couldn't get in that way. It wasn't that I didn't trust my brother, but I didn't know crap about the guys who moved in while I was on the Island. I don't like people going through my things.
While I didn't have a lot of value other than my computer, what was mine; was mine. My music collection was probably my most next prized possession. I copied all my original cassettes and my records on to cassette, so if the copies went missing, which they did with annoying frequency, I still had the originals.
My stereo was also expensive, and it could record the records onto cassettes. I'd told my brother if it got damaged, I'd lock it up while I was away. Fortunately, my brother knew I loved that stereo, and the boys were banned from touching it. He was the disc jockey when I wasn't there. Luckily, the neighbours weren't close on either side, and no one was behind us with the hill.
It wasn't a bad house for four guys to live in.
One of the boys, Brian Taylor, had an old Holden station wagon.
Fortunately for me, Brian was able to use it to pick me up from the wharf. The boys weren't working until later that night. Brian was a trainee Chef and the other lad, Shorn Roberts, was a bartender. They were both a little older than Ryan but younger than me, and we got on okay.
The boys sure knew how to party hard. While it was the weekend for me, it was the main part of the working week for my housemates. Ryan and Brian left for work at 4pm and finished around midnight. Shorn headed off about 6pm and knocked off around 2am in the morning.
Since they all worked at the same establishment, Ryan and Brian, often headed into the nightclub side after work. They would help the night staff clean-up unless they got lucky and cottoned onto a broad.
So, the boys tended to not get home until around two-thirty to three in the morning.
My brother, Ryan, is bulkier than I am and a touch shorter.
He has the same coloured eyes, but he is more of a ranger than I am. He is more body-conscious than I am, so he keeps himself very fit. People may not realise it, but being a kitchen-hand can be hard yakka. He told me that he often picked up a bit of extra pay helping the bouncers on the weekends.
Trust me, while my little brother may look cute and harmless, you didn't want to take him on in a fight if you wished to walk away. Our dad had liked doing Taekwondo, so he had us in training from an early age. He had also done traditional boxing in his youth, so we were taught it, as well.
Ryan and I never really worried about our safety when out, because we didn't have a lot of trouble looking after ourselves. We didn't go looking for fights, but we wouldn't be punching bags either.
Personally, I reckoned Ryan was the better looking of us, and he was a lot more outgoing. It always amazed me how often I scored when we were together. But then again, my tastes were a bit broader than Ryan's were.
He knew that I liked both sexes, and while he was strictly hetero, it didn't bother him that I wasn't. We'd had a few discussions about my sexuality when he first started hanging out with me when he turned eighteen.
Fortunately, for me, my mother had a couple of gay friends when we were growing up. She had explained to us that some people were attracted to the opposite sex and some of us to the same. It was just how our brain chemistry worked.
When I first realised, I was attracted to both at sixteen, I had a heart-to-heart with my mum. She is an amazing lady in that she would listen and not condemn. She just told me to be careful and use protection no matter who I had sex with.
Being cute and muscular, it was amazing how often Ryan attracted the guys. He'd deflect them off onto me. He would even pick possible fun partners out for me. If anyone heard us talk, they would think he was bisexual like me, as we actively discussed the assets of males and females.
I learned during my first weekend home that Shorn was gay. Brian had been a bit funny about it when he found out, but Ryan then explained about me. He told Brian that if he couldn't live with it, then he'd have to find someone else to move in.
Brian was a bit reserved with me when he met me, and Shorn had seriously checked me out. Shorn was bulkier and shorter than Ryan. He wasn't really my type, but we got on well enough.
Brian was more my type as it seems that I prefer men of a similar body shape to mine. As far as looks went, he was also a ranger, which was a preference of mine, but I knew not to approach him. He eased up a bit over the weekend and a few drinks.
I let him know that he was safe with me, and he started opening up a bit more. I was glad my brother had picked some good flatmates. Both the boys were moderately tidy. My clean-freak brother kept them in check.
I was the messy one. I like my work areas clean and didn't appreciate a dirty kitchen, but for some reason, I hated a super tidy bedroom. It was my sanctuary and a reflection of my mind in many ways. I kept the other areas clean because I was conscious of safety at work and in communal areas.
I mooched around the house when the boys weren't there. I was just relaxing, and I found Ryan had maintained my favourite spot to curl up with a good book and a pot of tea. I had set up my end of the verandah off our bedrooms with a work area for my tinkering with electronics, my computer and a reading chair.
Ryan had discouraged the boys from using that verandah, as I considered it my area. Plenty of other spaces could be utilised by them, and they had the larger bedrooms downstairs, so they had respected Ryan's wishes.
The better views were from the other verandah off the lounge, which was why I had claimed the back verandah.
I had arranged to meet the boys at the nightclub that Friday night.
Shorn told me how to come and find him when I turned up as he served in the back bar. It had a large glass curved wall that separated it from the dance floor and the other bar. It was set up so you could watch the dancers from half-a-floor above them.
The plate-glass muted the loud music so you could actually talk to the people with you. The bar was also frequented by the slightly older group that didn't enjoy waking up with tinnitus in the morning. You could still go down the half-flight of wide stairs on either side, to the dance floor if you wish.
I loved the place on sight. Downstairs was hoping by the time I got there around ten. I pulled up a stool at the bar, and Shorn smiled and came over to serve me. He whispered to the two girls with him as he passed them. I assumed he was telling them I was Ryan's brother. I found I only paid for every second drink.
Both girls checked me out, and I winked at the sexy piece with the short blonde bob. She was a bottle blonde, and the dye had turned her brunette hair into a honey blonde. The other girl looked at her friend with surprise and then speculation. She probably considered herself the better catch with her slim figure and long black hair. She wasn't bad looking, and she knew it.
The blonde had the fuller figure and was more cute than gorgeous. She wasn't fat, just curvy and I felt that she had a nicer personality. As I have mentioned, I didn't mind finding a girl who has hips to hold onto, even though I prefer my guys slim. It's weird how our brains worked.
Shorn already knew my favourite poison and soon had a Bundy Rum and Coke in front of me. I thanked him and turned to look over the room. The dress here was semi-casual. They didn't let you wear thongs or T-shirts, but dress or denim shorts were more the norm than long pants. It was too bloody hot here for longs, especially during the day.
I was wearing a simple pale blue buttoned-up shirt tucked into acid-washed denim shorts and black loafers without socks. Socks were also optional. Looking around the room, I was conservatively dressed. Polo-shirts or button-ups were common for the blokes, and lacy tops were common for the girls.
The tight, acid-washed jeans of varying lengths were worn by both. Short, hip-riding skirts were also popular with the girls, and some of them even managed to wear a nice dress. I had to admit some of the girls probably should have worn the jeans or dress. I didn't find pudgy bellies rolling over the waist of a short skirt sexy at all.
I did like the variety of tops, and I was always happy to enjoy a nice set of breasts being on display. I wasn't that fussed on size either. Either they looked good, or they didn't. I had nothing against them being propped up on view or hanging free.
Some of the bigger girls possibly should have used a bit more support, but I had no problem watching their nipples rub on the thin material of their tops just like most of the other men in the club.
I'm a bit of a studier of body language and loved watching people interact in the mating game. I'd watch a table for a bit, and I'd soon work out which guy was going to get lucky and who wasn't. I'd identify the girls who would put out, the flirts and those that took holiday romances too seriously.
Also, easy to pick were the long-suffering friends, the protectors, the possessive ones and the flighty ones, both male and female. The ones I spent time looking for were the predators. Trust me, they came in both sexes. Their body language often gave them away.
Oddly, I tended to rescue the blokes more often than I did the sheilas. Most sheilas liked to go out with friends to back them up. Occasionally, the friend got involved in their own romance, or the other friend just got tired of trying to keep their girlfriend that wouldn't learn, out of trouble, and left them to it.
Blokes, however, were more likely to fly solo. Men are no different to women in that we are all trying to connect with someone. That someone special to us, who would enhance our lives. Who would give us a reason to get up and go to work each day or to look after the kids?
I'd never gravitated to the gay scene. I'm not gay, I'm bisexual. I tend to have more relationships with females than males. My preference is a couple if I can find them. I've learned that a lot of bi-guys settle for a sheila but like a bloke to share with their girlfriend or wife for a bit of fun every so often.
I wasn't looking for permanent, so I was always happy to be the spare, and walk away when I'd had enough. I am, however, more careful these days, as many couples have one party that has a greater desire for a third than the other does.
I do like to spend some time getting to know the couple rather than just jump into bed with them, even if I don't plan to have the relationship last more than a few weeks or so, or even if it is just the once.
I never go home with a drunken couple, not since my first experience anyway, that was nasty.
The blokes that I rescue.
We live in a dark world. What some people do to others is enough to make you cry rivers of tears. Being openly gay in the late eighties to early nineties was not always good for your health.
With the spread of the HIV virus, gay-bashing was a fear-induced, knee-jerk reaction by some and an excuse for others to enforce their narrow world view. Some people still act as if the world is flat, and you will never convince them otherwise.
Many young men, who are confused by their sexuality, often end up in really bad situations. Many of them don't make it to their late teens without learning the hard way that unscrupulous people will take advantage of them.
In the six-plus years that I'd been sexually active, I've had about a dozen male partners and about four times as many female ones. More than half of the females were one-nighters or a long weekend. They were purely for sex like with Kally was. Most of the rest lasted with me for one to two months but not much longer.
My longest lasting relationship had actually been with a bloke that I had rescued when I was nineteen.
It hadn't been my intent to get involved with him.
It took him several months to convince me that he was serious. Even then, we didn't behave like a couple in public. Most people just assumed we were good mates because we worked for the same company and shared a flat.
I'm not sure about how much I loved him now, but at the time, I was committed for the duration. He called it off after a year and just walked out of my life. I was devastated, but that's life.
He had been abused when younger and was pretty mixed up. One of the pricks who frequented a nightclub we liked at the time put a move on him. I'd not liked that bloke on sight. He may have been handsome, but he was a mean drunk, and I'd heard some rumours about him.
As well as watching people, I listened. We'd had two blokes beaten up in my hometown of Bundaberg at that time, and they had been labelled 'Gay-bashings'. What wasn't reported was that the men had been raped first.
I'd seen this bloke out and about; both weekends the incidents had happened. I had a really bad feeling about him. When he started paying attention to my drunken workmate, I found my skin crawling.
I had suspected that Darren Kim was gay, but we had never discussed our sexual preferences, as we weren't that close at the time. We both acted like the rest of the blokes and joked and talked about sheilas.
I watched the sleazeball whisper something to Darren and then he left. I could see the desire in Darren's eyes and wasn't surprised when he made his excuses and left. I followed him. I'd decided that if he went to get into a car with the bloke, I'd have to stop him.
I'm no hero, but I didn't want my workmate fucked up. I watched him make his unsteady way around a corner. He walked to the back street and then down a long driveway. We didn't have a lot of alleys in our town, but it was amazing how many dark driveways between buildings we had that weren't gated and provided the same dark place for bad things to happen.
I caught up and heard the two men talking. The street I was on wasn't very bright. I eased a look around the corner, and the guy had Darren against the wall of the building. I watched as he kissed him. Darren was kissing him back, and I wondered if I had it wrong.
The creep started rubbing Darren's crotch, and he responded by moaning into his mouth and pushing his hips forward. I heard a zip slide and the rustle of clothes. I checked around, but this street was deserted at this time in the morning, and only the odd car used this back street.
I still didn't feel right about leaving Darren here. My belly had the crawly feeling I got when things were hinky. I eased around the corner, so I was pressed into the shadow created by an outcrop of the building.
There was enough reflected light so that I could pick the couple out. The sleaze was jerking Darren off and had his pants down around his ankles. I heard the man say, "I'm going to fuck you good, boy."
He stopped what he was doing and spun Darren around.
Darren squirmed and slurred, "No, I want to do you first like you said." He tried to turn, but the bigger man smacked his head into the wall. The man spat out, "You're the one getting fucked, faggot, not me."
Up to that point, I was tossing up staying or leaving. Hearing the meaty smack of Darren's head and his cry of pain, decided the latter. This wasn't friendly sex.
I called out, "Hey, mate! You okay?"
The bigger man spun around. Darren was holding the wall with one hand and his head with the other. I guessed that I wasn't easy to pick out in the shadow I was in, and I was wearing dark clothes that night. The man had no idea how much of a threat I was.
"What's going on?" I yelled out again.
The prick backhanded Darren with a closed fist to the side of the head, grabbed his pants together and ran. Darren dropped to the ground, and I ran up to him. The prick had knocked him stupid. I rolled Darren over and checked his head. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and he was moaning in pain.
I checked to see if the prick was gone. I had to pull Darren's pants up and tuck him back in them. I got him up and walked him out of the driveway, and back around the corner to where I knew a taxi rank was.
I took him home.
Darren was pretty much out of it.
However, he must have recognised my voice, and he didn't argue with me when I shoved him into the Taxi.
Once Home, I doctored Darren up and got him to puke a couple of times. He kept asking what was happening and I just told him that he was pissed. I stripped him off, got him into the shower and told him to drink the water in sips from the shower.
I'd had to strip and get in with him to stop him falling over. It was hard work trying to keep my libido in check when he kept rubbing against me. He was nicely built, and I definitely liked what he had on offer.
Once I decided he at least smelt better and he had stopped puking, I dried him off and got him to swallow some aspirin and chucked him in my bed. I only had one bed and didn't own a couch back then. I slept naked and had done so since the first time I'd played with myself in bed when I was fourteen.
I crawled into bed with him.
I woke to a mouth doing delightful things to me.
I hadn't been as drunk as he had, but even so, it took me a little while to remember how I come to have a bloke in bed with me. I'd not had a male partner in nearly a year, and my sleep-deprived and alcohol fuddled brain didn't remember picking anyone up.
When I opened my eyes to watch Darren the events of the night before came back to me. He never did tell me which priest at the boy's school he went to taught him how to do blowjobs, but he got an 'A-plus' from me.
He was older and a year further ahead of me in his apprenticeship. I'd moved out of home at eighteen when I started my second year. My last flatmate had just moved out, so I wasn't worried about being discovered having a bloke making love to me.
I grunted when Darren made me come. He had been good at getting me off. He sat back and looked at me. I could see that he was also in need. In the morning light, his physic was all I had expected it to be.
I grabbed his pillow, lifted my butt and jammed it underneath me for him. Darren didn't say no and moved over me. He'd left enough slobber from sucking on me and fingering me that more lube was required.
He was very good at what he was doing, and he grunted and groaned right along with me. I didn't come, but he did. He was a bit quick for me, and I wondered when he'd last been laid. I'd enjoyed being with him all the same. He flopped down beside me once he was done.
"Fuck, I'd never have picked you as gay."
"I'm not. I like both sexes," I said as I grabbed two durries. I lit them and handed Darren one of them.
He looked at me as he took a long drag and blew it out, "Huh. Ever done both together?"
"A couple of times, it's not as easy finding a couple who like a third. Most only want you to do the sheila, and it's her thing, not his. I prefer doing both of them. A little bit of alcohol helps," I grinned.
He rubbed the Band-Aid on his forehead. "I didn't leave with you, did I?" he asked. I told him what happened.
"Fuck'n bastard. If I catch up with him, he is a dead fucker," he spat. "Why did you bring me home?"
"I was worried that you had a concussion, and I couldn't take you to your mum's. From what you've told me, she would have freaked out and asked me a million questions that, I didn't think you would want me to answer without knowing what I said to her," I told him.
Darren nodded in understanding; his parents didn't know he was gay. "So, did you fuck me instead?" he asked.
I shook my head. "The flatmate took his bed, and I don't have a couch, or I'd have slept elsewhere," I told him as I got up. I went and had a quick shower and then went and boiled the jug for a pot of tea. I hadn't stopped Darren's oral ministrations because he started it and I knew he wouldn't tell.
Darren took another shower, and I dropped a spare pair of shorts and a larger sized T-shirt on top of the loo for him. He was thicker set than I was, but they fitted him well enough. He came out, and I asked his poison. He preferred coffee, so he got an instant.
Half an hour later, I dropped him home and then went back to bed when I got back to my place.
I must have affected him, more than he had me at the time, and he started dropping around.
After a couple of months, I still didn't have a flatmate, and he finally convinced me to let him move in. We hadn't been with each other since that night, but it wasn't hard to work out that he wanted me.
While he provided his own bed, he made it obvious that he expected to share mine. He kept his stuff in the other room and changed in it, but he crawled into bed with me if we didn't have the other blokes over for drinks.
He was a satisfying and attentive lover, and while we went on dates with sheilas to keep the boys at work happy, we didn't sleep with them. I would have, but he had a bit of a possessive streak, and it wasn't worth the grief.
I hadn't even seen the break-up coming. About six months into the relationship, I'd started doing regular site work. My company did a lot of maintenance at the surrounding mines.
We worked away for four days and then had three days at home. He always insisted on sex when I got home. He seemed to need sex and intimacy more than I did and initiated most of it.
Then about two months before the split, I got put on a big job. We were going to work three weeks on-site and then get one week off. The money sure was good. I got home from my second rotation, and we were supposed to celebrate him completing his apprenticeship.
I found the flat minus his stuff as he had cleared out. He left me a brief note and two weeks rent that he owed me anyway. He had met someone else and been offered a job down south, and that was that.
I don't remember much of that weekend. Darren leaving me had hurt me a lot more than I had expected it would. I think it was as much how he left me. It took me more than a year before I'd even looked at another bloke with lust.
I did get my share of sheilas, though.
As my first night, back in Airlie wound down, I was still sober.
Ryan had ended up on the door helping the bouncers as they were short-staffed, and Brian had found a sheila to chat up and have a few drinks with. I'd not bothered with the crowd; however, I did chat up the blonde waitress.
Her name was Lilly Hall, and I had known within the first half an hour of meeting her that she would be coming home with me. One of the local girls, Indy Patel, had found Ryan at the door and he let her catch him.
Ryan was more into longer romances than one-nighters. Brian told me that Indy had been chatting Ryan up since he started doing the Bouncer's gig, just before I left for the Island. Indy was just his type, so I wasn't surprised when she got in the cab with Ryan, Lilly and me.
Shorn drove Brian and his date home in Brian's car since he was the sober one. It didn't dawn on me until after we got home that I was in a single bed. I'd given Ryan my double bed as the small room only allowed for a single.
Plus, he was the one actually living at the house, now I was working on the Island. I dragged my single-person mattress out onto the verandah, and that's where Lilly and I slept.
She was a spooner, and I had no problems curling up around her when we did finally get some sleep. The lady liked sex that was for sure. She had a knack of getting me close then backing off and ramping me up again. She enjoyed breakfast sex, as well.
I woke at dawn and got up for a pee. When I got back, I found her on her back, waiting for me. She enjoyed a good licking, and she was a squealer and a head-clamper when she came. She let me roll her over, and I had her squealing a bit more for me.
We both ended up crashing out again, and it was closer to 11am before the house stirred.
Brian and Ryan had to drop their girls' home.
Hence, they did the Maca's run (Mc Donald's). Lilly asked if I wanted a guest for the weekend until I went back to work. She still had to work that night, but she was off on Sunday and could drop me at the wharf Monday afternoon. I told her that I would be delighted.
I warned her that I wouldn't promise fidelity or that we'd even get together when I came back in two weeks. I told her that I enjoyed her company, but I wasn't planning on getting into a serious relationship, while I had my current job. I also warned her that I wouldn't call her once I left.
I was sure that Shorn had also told her I didn't just like girls. She gave me a look of speculation and agreed to my conditions. She didn't really have much choice if she wanted to stay, as I was easy either way. I liked her, but I didn't feel she was the one.
I'd use her while she wanted to stick around, but only if she knew the score right from the get-go. I didn't make promises I didn't intend to keep. We did enjoy the weekend, and I had fun with the group and had more than enough sex with Lilly to keep any sane bloke happy.
She pashed me hard when she dropped me off. I hope she hadn't got too attached, as I had a feeling if I called her when I got back, she would expect more from me than I was willing to give.
It wouldn't be fair to her for me to continue the relationship.
I was happy to be back on the Island.
It was fun catching up with Kerry and Trish. The girls had popped over to Hamilton Island for two days, and they had both gotten lucky like me, so they were as mellow as I was. My friendship with them continued as it had during the first two weeks.
A heap of the gear I needed for the refurbishment of the old units had turned up, so I was kept busy. We worked from 7am to 3:30pm on the weekdays. Mark let us knock off at 2pm on our weekend on the Island because we were also on-call. We kept our hand-radios with us when off-shift in case we were called for an emergency.
The guest's needs always came first. Because I was up in the dongas and the new boy, so far, the lads had left me alone. Plus, call-outs were overtime and Mark, in particular, liked the extra money as he and Anne were saving for a house when he found a job on the mainland. They tended to go to the mainland on their second fortnight off and to spend the other on the Island.
They had been on Lindeman Island nearly a year, and Mark had mentioned Anne's biological clock was sounding like a gong. If she got pregnant, they couldn't stay on the Island for long. We did have a nurse, but in an emergency, the Mackay Helicopter Rescue had to be called.
The Island didn't have the facilities for couples with kids.
I was one of the weird one's who liked bushwalking.
Swimming and Taekwondo were my secondary exercises. The Island boasted over twenty klicks of tracks that you could walk. There is a lake and about ten sandy beaches that were worth visiting. I'd already walked most of the closer trails and up to the lookout.
Mark had mentioned that on the western side of the Island, there was a cave behind the waterfall, but it wasn't common knowledge. The falls were fed from an underground stream that ran under the mountain and emerged near the top of a steep, sloping rock face that had a drop of about 22m. The cave entrance was about halfway down the cliff.
On Sunday, I'd conned Kerry into making me some extra sandwiches at lunchtime, and she found a thermos for me. I picked them up when I knocked off at 2pm and made sure I had two water bottles and insect repellent in my small backpack. Sandflies are not my friends.
I slapped my Akubra on my head, headed over the golf course and worked my way around to the north. Lindeman isn't that big of an island, and you can be circumnavigated it in about seven to eight hours depending on the tides and your level of fitness.
If, however, you went from east to west and over the top of the highest point to the other side, it took a bit longer because of the cliffs. Mount Oldfield was 212m above sea level. The Island had 690 hectares of National Park and heaps of bushwalking tracks. Guests were not however encouraged to go off the marked pathways.
I followed the path to the waterfall. It was well signposted and not a particularly arduous walk if you were moderately fit. It was also well shrouded by denser growth. I'd picked an awesome day. We had some scattered clouds, and a light breeze that kept the temps down and the eucalyptus forest wasn't hard to navigate.
I got to the area near the waterfall and sat on the viewing seat. It was impressive enough for me. I heard a rustling off to the side and spied a brush turkey. There is a heap of them on the Island. You could hear the bush curlews at night, and they did make some hair-raising sounds. The Island had a huge number of birds on it.
The spot was so peaceful it was good for the soul. I ate my sandwiches and enjoyed the coffee as I listened to the wildlife. The coffee was milky and strong. I preferred tea but didn't mind the odd cup of coffee. I loved this job, I decided. The off-time was worth every minute of the on-time.
To be honest, it was a cruisy job. I could work at my own pace, and as long as I dropped anything to look after the guests, I was left alone. So far, I hadn't had an unreasonable request from one of them. Back then, Lindeman wasn't considered a party resort. The Island tended to attract families with kids and people who just wanted some peace and quiet.
We (the staff) could go to the nightclub on the Island as long as we didn't go home with the guests. It closed at midnight mostly because the guests normally went to bed by then. We often disappeared sooner, as most of us worked every day that we were on the Island.
If we had time off, we often got off the Island. Since half the workers were back-packers, they used their time off to go visit the other islands. Most of the rest of us had people on the mainland, so we had plenty of reasons to go too.
I scrambled down the path that led up to the waterfall. I could see where others had ascended the side of the slope and followed their faint path. I could see a shadow behind the falls, and then I pushed under the edge of the water. The spray was amazingly cold.
It was at least thirty degrees that day, and the water felt chilled. I laughed at the sheer exhilaration of it. I popped into the cavity and stepped back out of the zone of the spray. I turned so that I was looking through the cascading water. It was a magnificent sight, and I'm not sure how long I stood there enjoying it.
Finally, I turned back and looked into the cavern. It wasn't that deep, probably about 20m. It was damp, and the floor was very uneven. You wouldn't want to spend the night in here, as you wouldn't be comfortable.
I flicked on my torch and looked around. Water pushed down through a crevice in the back and dribbled along the floor to escape with the rest over the cliff. Water leaked though in other places and moss and lichens were growing on the walls and the floor.
I noticed that some people had put their initials on the walls and dates. The first one that caught my eye was, 'Angus Nicolson, 1923'. He was the bloke who had first used the Island as a resort. Others had used the Island before him, but he had actually set up a camp to the north-east of where I was and brought paying guests over here.
I did know that he let his guests shoot the goats. I remembered something about the Government trying to cull all the goats on the islands in the region in the seventies and eighties. It was common knowledge that there were no goats on Goat Island, which was viewable from this Island to the south-west. But I wasn't sure if they had culled them all here. I do know that I haven't seen any.
'Adderton, 1905', was the next name and date that jumped out of me. He had lived on the Island too and had tried farming sheep here. The environmentalists wouldn't have liked him at all because he cleared quite a few hectares and planted grass for them.
I didn't know if these people had put their names here or if others had done it for them. I had no problem with a bit of history being recorded in the walls. The indigenous people had been doing it a lot longer.
I was surprised there were no markings that I would identify as Aboriginal. Way back in history this Island had been part of their traditional fishing grounds. It was said that they had not liked the white fellas using it at all.
Sadly, the local tribes weren't as numerous now.
I was in the back corner of the cave when I suddenly felt the floor shift under my feet.
I went to grab the wall and found myself falling. I must have struck my head, as I don't remember how I ended up on the floor. My stomach felt odd like I had dropped over a cliff before I had mentally prepared for it.
I climbed to my feet, cussing at falling over and shone the torch around to see where I was. I surprised to find that I was in a bigger cavern. It was about 15m square and 3m high. The floor and walls were smooth and flat. A 2m high by 1m wide, arched, doorway was in the middle of each of the other three walls.
The shock of that alone was immense. It left me stunned for several minutes until my mind finally grasped onto reality. After a while, I started looking around the room more seriously. A white, egg-sized rock on the otherwise smooth floor caught my eye.
I crouched down, picked it up and then drew it across the ground. The rock left a bright white, chalky line on the floor, so I turned and marked the spot where I had been lying. I then stood and put a big cross on the wall. After I had explored, I'd come back here and see if I could find the way out. I did hope that I hadn't dropped in from above.
I decided to go right and walked over to that doorway. I shone the torch through the opening. It gave access to a smaller room about 6m square, but it was bare like the first room. It was odd in that, it too had very little dust on the floor.
I walked to the next doorway, and this space looked like someone had started excavation but hadn't got far. It was a hallway, about 3m high and wide, and about 10m long, then it stopped at a flat wall.
The last doorway led to another much larger chamber. This room was at least four times the floor area of the one that I had just left and about 12m at the highest. The walls that were still standing were circular and curved up to the ceiling like it had once been a dome-shaped cavern.
As I flashed the torch around, it shone over an area that looked like a portion of the ceiling had collapsed. The area from the centre to the rear quarter of the room was covered in rubble up to about a metre high. Water leaked down from above the back section of the wound and then drained towards the left side through a crack in the floor.
I suspected the collapse had happened in more recent times as most of the rockfall still had that loose look about it. I had done Geography at school and knew that the last big quake in this area had been in 1918. Queensland didn't tend to get a lot of notable seismic activity.
I'm no geological expert, but somehow that time seemed right. The water had been busy in the last fifty years, but the rocks in the drier areas hadn't fused.
I poked into the corners near the rubble, but I couldn't see a way out of this cavern. I headed back into the room I had started in and then on impulse, I walked back down the one that stopped at a dead end. I shone my torch over the walls, but they looked flat and smooth.
I started running my fingers over the walls. I felt a spot that seemed warm and pressed harder on it, but nothing seemed to happen. I thought I had heard a sliding noise, but the walls looked the same. I sighed and turned to lean against the end wall.
"Fuck me!" I yelled as I fell backwards.
I twisted as I fell so that I landed on my side.
I didn't want to crack my head again. My elbow stung from the impact and went pins and needles from the sudden jolt on landing. I gingerly sat up, rubbed it and shook the buzzing sensation out of my arm.
I picked the torch up again and shone it around. To my amazement, the light shone back into the hall that I had just left. I got up, poked my head into the hall and shone the torch down it. I could see where my feet had disturbed the fine layer of dust. Then I got the creepiest feeling.
As the light shone back off the walls, I noticed my head and arm were poking through a wall. To say I was weirded out, was the mildest description I could give for how I felt. I walked back into the hall and shone the torch around. The light reflected off the wall that I had walked through.
I pushed the torch at the wall, and I was suddenly in darkness. I stepped forward and found myself on the other side again. I don't know about you, but by then, I thought it was cool. I had no idea how I'd explain the wonder I had found and was considering if I could even tell anyone about it. It also gave me an idea of how I was to get out.
About the only person who I knew who would believe me, was Ryan. He often told me I was a psychic. However, I interpreted my ability to read people and situations down to observation and intuition. I was just an ordinary bloke, there was nothing special about me.
I admit that I did seem to attract people when I just wanted solitude, and they tended to like telling me all their problems. However, I put that down to the fact I listened to them and never treated their narrations and indiscretions with condemnation.
It was a knack.
I shone the torch around again.
I found that the large room was set up like a single-roomed house. The corner to my right had a huge bed in it. Several cupboards partitioned that area off from the next section of the room.
That area contained a big table with bench-style seats on either side of it. The rear wall had a row of benchtop cupboards, a basin sat in a hole towards the middle, and I guessed it was used as a sink. A big wide and deep cupboard that I assumed was a pantry, was across the corner.
Along the other wall in the kitchen area was a huge fireplace that I could stand in and lay across it easily. On the left side of the room, a row of back to back bookcases separated that side into two halves.
To my amazement, the bookshelves were full of books. I gently touched one, and it felt solid. I was able to pull it off the shelf with ease. It had lettering on both pages, but it wasn't in a language that I understood.
At first, I thought it was Chinese, but the hieroglyphs weren't the same. Plus, I thought that they wrote from the back to the front of the book. This writing was across the page, more like English. I could even pick out paragraphs and single lines of text that sat under the pictures.
I flipped through it and determined it was a book on botany. I recognised the sketches as many of the plants that could be found on the Island. Some I didn't know, and I wondered if they had become extinct. The books had a feeling of great age, but they were perfectly preserved.
The smaller area across from the bedroom was set up as a study - lounge room, and the other larger space across from the kitchen was more a laboratory, come workroom. It even had several benches in the middle of the room you could walk around.
The rooms were clean and tidy as if the person who had lived here had cleaned up before leaving for the day. There wasn't a speck of dust, and the air was dry but didn't smell stale. I even detected a slight movement towards the back of the room.
The previous resident had placed a lot of beautiful sketches and watercolour paintings framed in local wood on the walls. The picture that caught my eye hung over the bed. It was of a couple. They both had an ethereal quality about them, but they were obviously related to the local indigenous population.
However, certain features suggested they were not pure-bloods. Their skin was lighter, and the ears looked a little funny. I realised they were slightly pointed at the top. The noses weren't quite as broad as I would have expected. They both had the dark-auburn and curled hair that I loved.
They were dressed, as the locals would have been before the white man came to this coast and killed off a lot of them. I couldn't decide if they were related or not. Possible one parent or even a grandparent, but I didn't feel they were full brother and sister, they looked more like cousins, I decided.
Don't ask me why it was just how I felt. I didn't get the impression that they were overly tall people, but they were slim and beautifully proportioned. They both took my breath away.
I had entered the room from a wall that was on the same side as the study and the bedroom. Out of curiosity, I examined the opposite wall between the kitchen and the laboratory. One section, in particular, caught my eye, as it was bare. I touched the wall and found the hot spot.
I walked into the wall.
I felt a tingling across my skin as I entered and shivered.
The first thing I noticed was the light. The room was lit by little crystals on the ceiling that was 5m above me. They were in small clumps, and I could pick out dark spots that didn't seem to work anymore.
The crystals that shone were on the ends of the thicker bases of the squarish crystals. They were different lengths, thicknesses and even number in their clusters.
They didn't provide a brightly lit room, but I could see well enough. I was in a storage room full of strange paraphernalia and some not so weird. One wall had weapons like boomerangs hung on it, and spears of different length sat in a rack like pool cues.
Dozens of large chests, some wooden and some metallic sat back to back in the middle of the room. Others were stacked like crates, four or five high at the back of the room. Some of the other stuff was on the floor near the walls.
On the wide shelves that were attached to the walls, were items that looked like inventions gone wrong. I had no idea what most of those items were. One looked like a sort of motor, but I couldn't tell how it worked, as I couldn't see where the wires went.
Statues, pottery, dishes and other miscellaneous bric-a-brac, littered the shelves, sections of the floor and any space it had been placed. I tried some of the chests in the middle of the room, but only one opened to my touch.
In the top were three metallic boxes, one was larger than the other two. I had no idea what the metal was. I went to pick up one of the smaller boxes, but my hand ended up on the bigger box. I pulled it out of the chest and placed it on the lower chest beside the one I had opened.
It opened under my hand by some invisible mechanism. I flipped the lid back and tried to make sense of the contents. I lifted out the diadem and examined it. It was a slim band made of what looked like bronze. A large green-yellow square-cut crystal was in the middle.
On one side were a round-cut, blue topaz and a turquoise gem. On the other were a diamond and a blue sapphire. The stones were a decent size and set so they would touch your skin. I wondered why they had picked those gems to decorate the band.
I found myself putting it on.
I think my eyes damn near popped out of my head.
The hair of the back of my neck stood up, and I shivered. I felt that I wasn't alone anymore. There was a presence with me. I didn't really believe in ghosts, but I knew there was much in the world we didn't understand.
The presence seemed happy, content even. It didn't feel malevolent. I'd met enough evil people to know what they felt like. I shook off the weirdness and picked up the oval medallion. It was about 3cm wide by 4cm long, and it had the strange the crystal in the middle. On the top was a stylised eye. Underneath was an open book. A flaming torch was on one side, and a hill was on the other.
I flipped it over and read, 'I learn to serve'. Underneath the big gem were the words, 'Seer and Fixer'. That had me scratching my head. What the hell did a seer and fixer do?
My eyes nearly popped for the second time. I found I had to sit on a chest and take a couple of deep breaths. I looked at the writing again. It was the same script as in the book, but now I could read it.
I knew the words I had read were correct to my understanding. I put the large, linked chain of the medallion over my head without conscious thought. When it settled on my chest, I felt warmth infuse my body. I smiled as it settled in my groin.
I had to admit the intoxicating situation was enough to give any bloke a hard-on. I ignored my physical reaction and retrieved the ring. The band was also a bronze colour, but I doubted it would ever tarnish. It also had the five stones on it like the diadem. I found it wanted to go on the middle finger of my left hand.
I am ambidextrous, and while it would be more usual to wear it on my right hand, I decided it went to my left hand for a reason. The next object was a cylinder also made of bronze. It was about 25cm long and had a round-cut, more ball-shaped crystal in the widest end. It was 25mm wide at its thickest end and slightly narrower at the other end.
I soon learned that it extended to 1.8m in length, and somehow, I knew that I could make it any size in-between. For no reason that I could fathom, I pressed it to my right side, and it disappeared. I also knew I only had to think about it, and it would appear when I needed it.
I removed the thin book that was in a pocket on the lid. As I touched the book, I knew the cylinder was my wand, and I had just donned the magical items that made me a Mage, a wielder of magic. I also realised the bling had disappeared from my sight when the wand had so that I didn't have to take it off.
"Cool, I'm a wizard, just like Merlin," I said aloud. I then got the impression that the Entity that now resided within me that it didn't agree with me.
"I'm not a wizard?" I said aloud. Again, I got the same negative response. "I'm not a wizard, but I am a mage or a magician," I tried.
This time, I felt that it was happy. The presence didn't seem to be able to communicate with me with words, but it did seem to be able to influence my feelings. I had no idea what the difference between a mage and a wizard was, so I left it for a problem to solve later.
I checked my watch and realised I'd been stuffing around in the cavern for a couple of hours and it was after 5pm. If I didn't head back soon, people would start to worry. Well, Kerry and Trish would, as they expected me to eat with them. Kerry also knew I had gone for a hike.
I closed the box and went to put it back in the chest, but I felt it wanted to stay with me. I also felt compelled to pick the other two smaller boxes up. I wondered if I could fit one of them into the other box. It opened again for me, and the first box disappeared into it when I went to lay it inside.
I looked inside the bigger box but couldn't see the one I dropped into it. When I put my hand in, I knew I could call the other box back to me. It was weird, but with all I had experienced so far, I decided to go with the flow. So, I dropped in the second box.
I then went to squeeze the box into my backpack. It seemed to enter it with ease. I could have sworn it was too big, but it slid right in. I donned the backpack. I had a feeling I'd be back, so I didn't bother taking anything else with me from this room.
However, I did check out the bookcases once back in the main room. I could now read many of the titles on the spines. I found the previous owners last two diaries and took them too. I also collected a book labelled 'Odd Spells'. I thought it strange to call it that and wondered if I had read it wrong and it actually said 'old'. I'd soon find out.
When I walked up to the wall with the cross on it, I stepped close to the wall and then felt the strange sensation like when I walked through the other walls. I found myself back in the cave under the waterfall. I carefully examined the spot and noticed the eye etched into the stone.
I grinned and made my way back to the resort.
I got back just on dark, and I was starving.
I helped myself from the selection of food in the baine-maries. I chose a breast portion of the roast chicken and piled on the baked veggies and steamed greens. As I looked around, I didn't see Kerry or Trish in the canteen. I picked the table we often sat at and started hoeing in.
We had good cooks, and we were well fed. It was the best camp food I'd ever eaten. I felt arms go around my shoulders and a kiss on my temple. "Hey, where have you been? I was getting worried," Kerry asked.
I was surprised by my reaction when she had pressed into my back. I looked at her in surprise and then smiled. "Sorry, hot stuff, I was communing with nature and lost track of time," I said.
Kerry shook her head at me, cuffed my shoulder and then went to get her dinner. She had a bit of an issue with her body image. She was thick-set with a wide arse. She had the classic Mother-earth figure. I reckoned she had to be at least a 'DD' and most of the guys liked giving her tits the ogle.
Her face wasn't Playboy perfect, but Kerry had her own charms. Men can be bloody shallow creatures, but I've met my share of women who are just as bad. I know that no different to most, and the body and face will determine if the chase is taken to the next level.
For me, if your personality turns me off, you have no hope no matter what you look like. If I'm drunk enough, I might fuck you, but I wouldn't stick around. I had learnt very early on in my pursuit of happiness that I'd rather bed the cute sheila or bloke with a nice personality than the pretty bitch or handsome bloke, who felt the world owed them a living.
The cuties were often the better partners, and they tried to please and didn't expect you to be grateful they had let you touch them. I could count on one hand the hot bod's that had a nice enough personality that I stuck with them for any length of time. I knew that one of my problems was, I was looking for something that I just hadn't found.
I can't even tell you what it was that was missing. I've been with some exceptionally loving people. But something stops me from giving them my heart unconditionally. They leave me just as often as I'm the one to go. I can't blame my upbringing, my parents are still happily married, and Ryan and I were never treated badly.
My mum says she probably loves my dad more now than she did when they first met. I know my dad agrees. He still pats her on the arse every chance he gets. He told me the last time I called home that he was wearing a track around the dining room table from chasing her, now they had to house to themselves.
I had to laugh, as I was sure he was telling the truth. Mum had taken the phone off him and said not to believe a word he said, as she didn't run. I heard dad crack up when I did, and then I heard mum tell him to get his randy hands off her until after she got off the phone.
I love my parents.
Trish brought me out of my wool-gathering by kissing me on the same spot Kerry had.
It didn't help the young fella behave, as she always smelt really nice. Every time I smelt that woman, I thought, 'Hot monkey sex'. She had some wicked pheromones. She wasn't as rough and ready as Kerry, but she could hold her own in any smutty conversation that we often ended up having.
She came across a little prim and proper most of the time, but that lady had a very imaginative mind when it came to the subject of sex. I had a feeling if I ever ended up in bed with either of them, I'd walk away more than satisfied.
The two of them together would blow a bloke's mind. I even suspected they had shared a bloke before. I had known for a while that the ladies entertained each other. However, I knew they both liked guys too, especially Kerry.
I think Trish blew towards more female than male, but I believed that she took both if turned on enough. I found bi-girls as hot as bi-guys. In case you haven't worked it out, I love multiple partner sex. One-on-one is nice, but I always get off with sharing with at least two people.
Oddly, I've never done it with two guys. I seem to prefer just the one bloke with a sheila or two. I had often thought if I could find a sheila I wanted to marry and find another couple to share the odd night with I'd be happy. I'd get the variety I needed but still have the normal existence that is expected of me.
The problem was I just hadn't found her yet or the other couple.
I enjoyed the girl's company at dinner.
After three weeks, we were comfortable with each other, and I found I could just relax and enjoy their company. I did feel a slight undertone on this night, but I didn't focus on it. I had a lot of unanswered questions going around and around in my head pertaining to my adventure.
I didn't hang around long after dinner and told the girls I was tired from the hike and went to bed early. I was a bit naughty and used the gem from my wand as a torch to find my way over the gully. I played with narrowing the beam with a thought and then widening it.
If anyone saw me, the wand looked a lot like a long thin metal-clad torch, so I wasn't bothered that I'd get any strange questions. Once I was back in my room, I put the magic-box from my bag into my lockable locker then I headed off to the showers.
I walked in to find a bloke I knew of as Gazza.
Gazza was standing in an open area with a towel over his head.
He had been on the island for six weeks and was leaving in the morning. He'd told me previously that he was heading to Townsville. He had enlisted in the Army, and he had to report in, in a week. His folks live in Ayr. It is about ninety klicks south-east of Townsville. He was stopping off there for a couple of days first.
"How are they hanging, Gaz?" I asked.
I had to grin when he looked down. His freshly washed cock was dangling nicely between his extended balls. He must have had the shower hot and to cool off, the boys had dropped to expose as much skin as possible. He needed a bit of work to tighten up the muscle tone, but his slim figure was easy on my eyes.
He was a brunette and wouldn't need a haircut for his new profession. I guessed he wasn't much older than my brother was. His neck, arms, and lower legs were lightly tanned, but the rest was several shades lighter. I'd never seen him in togs and going by the body, he didn't swim without a shirt if he did go into the water.