Chapter 6

Louisa dreamt. It was a familiar dream, one that she’d had many times, and she was nearing the end. In this dream, she was rock-hard, and a man was sucking her cock, and sucking it very well indeed, his head bobbing up and down, taking half her length with each stoke, going faster and faster as Louisa got closer and closer to orgasm. She couldn’t see the man’s face, only the top of his head. She was sure he was handsome. She wanted to see his face, to look into his eyes at the very instant she came. But the dream always ended the same way; the man would lift his head, and just as his face came into view, the blowjob would end, and with it, the dream. Louisa would wake up, hard and horney, and masturbate herself to a furious orgasm.

But this was different. The man lifted his chin, raised his head and looked into her eyes, and yet somehow, managed to keep sucking her cock as before. Baffled, Louisa awoke. Yet the beautiful sensations continued. She looked down in surprise.

Craig paused his morning blow job, letting Louisa’s cock pop out of his mouth and land with a satisfying smack on Louisa’s flat stomach. “More!” she cried, putting her hands on his head. Craig smiled, and then took his lover’s organ into his mouth again, his pace faster now.

“Craig -- I can’t -- I’m so close -- if you don’t -- Oh Craig CRAIG!” Louisa cried, glad that her new man, instead of heeding her warning, had starting tweaking her rock-hard nipples. Already near the edge, this last stimulation pushed her over, and she exploded in his mouth. Louisa’s morning load was always big, and from the sound of Craig’s initial gagging, followed by his repeated swallowing, this morning was no exception. He had trouble keeping her cock in his mouth, due to the violence of Louisa’s movement during her orgasm. Finally Louisa’s body slowed, until she was only moving her hips up and down in a slow wave, enjoying her gradual descent from an orgasmic peak. Craig kept sucking while squeezing her firm breasts, and only when the woman was flaccid and had no more to offer him but a smile, did he let her soft, but still impressive, organ drop from his mouth.

“That was great. So was last night,” she said. They kissed, lay down together, and slept.

They awoke to a loud knocking at the cabin door. Craig looked at the clock.

“We slept in! Only thirty minutes to the Caymans,” said Craig. Louis started to get up, but Craig beat her to it. “I’ll answer the door,” he said, throwing on his robe. He opened the door.

Nickie and Amanda stared at him, both of them dressed for the Caymans trip. They were wearing matching outfits, Nickie with a blue top and white shorts, Amanda the same outfit, with colours reversed. They did this sometimes: ‘look-alike-dyke’ was their term for it. Amanda had the same raven hair as her sister, Louisa; Nickie would be chestnut brown if she did not prefer to dye her hair blond. The two women stared at Craig. Craig stared back.

“Hi, Craig!” said his sister and her partner at the same time.

“Hi, to you, too,” said Craig. The two women exchanged an odd look. Amanda covered her mouth with her hand, as if trying to conceal a yawn. Or was it a laugh.

“We didn’t see you guys anywhere,” said Nickie, giggling. “Where’s Louisa?”

“Over here,” said Louisa. Craig turned at the sound of her voice, and the two women, standing on tippy-toe, looked past him. Louisa had pulled the sheets up to cover herself, but her shoulders were bare, and the sheets reached half-way up her thighs. There was no doubt she was completely naked under the sheets. In case there was any doubt, the sheet clung to Louisa’s firm body, and a dark nipple advertised its presence under the sheer, thin fabric.

“We’ll be right down,” said Craig.

“You’d better hurry,” said Amanda, “I’ll grab you something from the buffet and meet you on the lineup for the gangway; you’ll not have time to get something to eat.” Craig closed the door, and the women scampered off. Craig partially heard a remark of some kind, something about food, and then peals of high-pitched female laughter.

“I wonder what’s up with them,” he said to Louisa as she rose from the bed. Her firm breasts swayed enchantingly as she did so.

“Let’s shower together,” said Louisa, “but first: have a look in the mirror.” Craig obliged her. “Oh sweet Jesus!” he said. He stared at the mirror, and his shocked face stared back. His shocked, cum-streaked face.

“You could always tell your sister it was icing,” said Louisa.

“Somehow I don’t think she’d believe it. Do you think Amanda would?”

“Judging by what they said after you closed the door, I don’t think so.” Louisa started to laugh just as hard as Amanda and Nicole had.

“OK, what did they say?” demanded Craig. Louisa, still laughing, shook her head from side to side. Craig insisted, and when Louisa still refused, Craig took both her hands in one of his, and held them up above her head. “Tickle torture until you confess,” he said. Louisa tried to break free, but could not. She loved it that she could not.

“Ok, Ok, I’ll talk!” she said. “When Amanda said she’d grab you something to eat, Nickie said that she thought you’d just been fed.”

“Fuck. Not that it matters,” said Craig. Louisa’s laughter stopped instantly. Craig released her hands, and she put her arms around him.

“It doesn’t?” she said, praying that Craig meant what he said.

“No. I was going to get a nice picture of you to put on Facebook. That’s how I wanted them to find out. But I suppose this is a great way for them to learn about us.” Louisa smiled, and they kissed. The kiss went on and on, Louisa’s wandering hands quickly relieving Craig of his robe. Both naked now, they stepped into the cabin’s small shower, the space barely big enough for one. Louisa turned on the tap, letting out a small cry at the stream of cold water. But the temperature soon warmed. The two faced each other, soaping their own and the other’s body, feeling, touching, kissing, breaking apart, and kissing some more. But they knew they had little time, if they wanted to join their siblings onto Grand Cayman. The right hand of each went to the other’s cock, and their left to the other’s nipples. Craig began to reach orgasm first, and when Louisa sensed it, she held Craig’s hand with one of hers while lowering herself to her knees, just in time to take her lover into her mouth, to be rewarded with thick jets of cum that she swallowed greedily. She rose.

“What about you?” said Craig, beginning to jack her off once more.

“You did me once already,” said Louisa, “and it will be a few minutes before I can cum again. We don’t have time, if we want to join the others. I’ll take a rain cheque. Tonight, after the day trip!”

They made the lineup with time to spare, finding Nickie and Amanda and joining them. “Hi, ladies,” said Craig.

The women turned, and looked at him. Then they looked at Louisa. Then at each other. And the high-pitched, girlish laughter erupted once more. It stopped when Craig turned Louisa towards him, and planted his lips on hers. She returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around his broad back. Nicole and Amanda hooted appreciatively, the laughter replaced with applause. Then the line began to move, and the foursome followed the line down the gangway.

“This will only take a minute,” said Nickie, who’d been on cruises before with Amanda. “They do most of the checking beforehand.” And she was right; passenger after passenger cleared customs with barely a glance or even a word. Until they got to Louisa.

“Ms. Limonova,” said a guard, extending an arm to block Louisa’s way.

“Yes, that’s me.” “Come with me please,” said the guard. His manner was polite, and although there was nothing pushy about him, there was an edge to him that was unpleasant. Louisa turned towards the guard to follow him, Craig in tow. But another guard stopped Craig. “You can clear customs and wait for her there. I’m sure she won’t be long.”

Craig felt uneasy as he followed his sister and Nickie through customs. He knew he ought not to be worried. It must just be a formality of some kind. He recalled now that he’d heard the same thing from a crew member that Nickie had just mentioned: all passengers were pre-cleared. The crew would not have allowed Louisa off the ship if the Cayman authorities had had any reason not to admit Louisa. It really had to be nothing, nothing at all.

Louisa followed the guard down a hallway. He opened a door, and motioned for her to go inside. She did, and then jumped when the door slammed behind her. She was in a cell, alone. As cells go, it was quite comfortable. But still, was a cell. The bed was a narrow cot only a few inches off the floor. The only furniture was a small metal desk attached to the wall, and a chair attached to the desk. A reasonably clean toilet completed the inventory of the room’s contents. Then Louisa looked up, and saw a video camera looking down at her. A red light below the lens blinked. It blinked again, and then went out.

A few minutes later the guard was back, opening the door abruptly and once more slamming it behind him. He held a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other.

“Sit down,” he said. Louisa sat. She was in a foreign country, unsure of her rights, and not sure she would have asserted those rights even if she knew what they were. But she knew that an interview ought to be conducted in an interview room, and not in a holding cell. And the fact that someone had turned off the surveillance camera was a very bad sign indeed. She waited, and observed as the guard began to flip through the papers on his clipboard. The man was young, not more than twenty-five. A little shorter than Louisa, almost as fair skinned, and in good shape. Louisa thought the fellow probably hit the gym pretty regularly. And confident, too: very much the man in charge.

“Do you know why you’re here?” asked the guard. The question irritated Louisa very much. It was such an old, clumsy gambit. It was perfectly acceptable to use it on criminals, for it was not uncommon for a suspect to blurt out something about some crime of which he was not even suspected. But at a border point, coming from a customs guard, the question was simply dumb.

“No idea, sorry.”

“Bullshit. You’re Louisa Limonova. You have a criminal record longer than my arm.”

“Oh, that!” said Louisa, laughing. “No, I’m not that Louisa Limonova!” When Louisa had completed her transition, she’d changed her legal name from “Louis” to “Louisa”, blissfully unaware that there was a Louisa Limonova from Belarus, a woman who had committed crimes in every country to which she’d been admitted. She’d defrauded a Vegas casino. She’d married an elderly Texas millionaire, and decamped after she’d cleaned him out. A jewellery store in Paris would dearly like the return of some very choice items she’d lifted. And this was the woman whose name Louisa had chosen to take. She’d paid for the mistake more than once, and would continue to pay. But she was very attached to the name, “Louisa”. Nor would she divest herself of her surname. Not unless and until she got married. Until then, she would have to put up with the occasional bit of inconvenience.

“That’s easy enough to say,” said the guard. “We don’t have any pictures of this other Louisa Limonova, if, like you say, she’s not you.”

“That’s rather odd,” said Louisa. “The woman’s notorious; she’s all over the web. Just Google her.”

The guard laughed. “You expect me to let you go just based on a Google search?”

“This was all sorted out before I got on the boat,” said Louisa. “I told them all about it, and it’s included in the info they’re supposed to give customs at every port of call.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. No idea at all.” The guard stood over her, flipping idly through the sheets on his clipboard. Sitting on her chair, Louisa was looking up as the guard, and above him, was a bright ceiling light. The light shone through the papers, and she could see that the papers were blank. “I’m going to take you through this questionnaire. Then I’ll run your answers by the authorities back in Canada. If everything checks out, in a day or so I can let you go.”

“But the ship leaves in eight hours!” said Louisa.

“Not my problem. You can try to join it at the next port of call. Mind you, we don’t have any direct flights to your next stop. You’ll have to fly to Miami, get a connecting flight, and then fly from there.”

Louisa didn’t need to hear any more. She’d figured this man out; it was rather obvious what he was about. The cell, instead of an interview room. The security camera turned off. The clipboard filled with what appeared to be empty pages. It could be that the man got his thrills by scaring pretty young women, to make them beg before he released them. But the dark security camera was the give away. This guard wasn’t going to be placated simply by watching her beg. He was looking for something a bit more substantial.

“What am I going to do,” wailed Louisa, putting her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

“I really don’t know,” said the guard.

“Can’t I call anyone?” Louisa raised her head, allowing the guard to see the tears her acting had summoned.

“Yes, but not until we’ve gotten past the first part of the security check.”

“Isn’t there something we could work out? Couldn’t you let me leave, and I promise to come back later? I won’t leave the island! I promise! I couldn’t leave, even if I wanted to! You guys would stop me from boarding the ship.”

“That’s true,” said the guard, “but I’d have to be a bit of an idiot to do that, wouldn’t I? What’s in it for me?” The man’s directness, his total lack of subtlety, was a bit disappointing. But Louisa was glad that it at least would lead to a quick end to the preliminaries.

“Please -- I’m begging you. I’ll do anything -- anything you want. Please. Whatever I have to do, just please let me go!”

“Do you really mean that?” asked the guard. Louisa assured him that she did. He beckoned her to stand. She complied, and the guard dropped his clipboard, and also any pretension to decency. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, putting his lips on hers, his hand already on her ass, his touch speaking of ownership. She placed her hands on his chest, and pushed, but weakly, and the kisses continued. She turned her face from him and gasped, “Can’t you lock the door? Someone might come in!”

The guard reached behind himself with one hand. There was an audible click as the lock shot home. Louisa instantly had the man down with a foot sweep. She applied an arm lock, and the guard was beneath her, stunned, shamed and scared.