Chapter 11

When I felt she’d learned her lesson, I noticed I’d gone a trifle overboard ... her ass was was past pink. It looked like she’d been tanning at a nude beach and fallen asleep on her stomach ... for hours. She was blazing.

Cyn was looking at me like I’d lost my mind ... maybe I had. I was pissed. I made a concerted effort to put myself under control.

“Cyn ... Cyn ... CYN!”

She made a shake ... a double take ... took her eyes off Zoe’s fiery ass and looked at me.

“Get the analgesic rub, Cyn.”

Now she was looking at my hand. And that made me realize just how much it hurt.

“Cyn! Get the first-aid kit ... Now Cyn!”

When she started moving she started slow but in the first few moments she built up speed. She was back in a flash.

I felt guilty about Zo’s poor ass and I worried about applying the ointment but my hand was smarting severely.

Kill two birds with one rub, I thought. I dipped into the salve and smeared Zo’s ass ... I know how she felt because my hand was soon healing.

Zoe, poor girl, began to moan and groan, so I stopped.

“NO! Don’t stop. Keep rubbing,” she commanded.

So ... I started in again. Like before she was vocal and I stopped again.

“If you stop again, I’m agonna kill you,” she growled.

After 20 minutes or so, she said, “Do it again, Daddy.”

I slathered on more creme.

“No!”

“What?”

“Spank me again,” she said, “I’ve been a baaad girl.”

“What?”

“Are you dense? Spank me ... I love it.”

“I don’t want...”

“S.P.A.N.K. M.E.” she grabbed my hand and slapped her ass with it. “N.O.W!”

Things progress ... they do that. Soon I was pounding her pussy as she was pushing back. Every slap of my cock in that tight hole called for another cheek slap. Zo was in constant ecstasy. The cabin sole was so well lubricated with human fluids, we were slip-sliding.

The first time she moved to a dry spot she said, “Don’t stop ... I’m looking for better traction.”

In the morning, when Miss Brouwer, “Ranthe, please,” came out of her drugged stupor, the whole boat smelled of sex ... and not your everyday once and done ... no, the boat smelled like a Roman Orgy ... whatever that was, she immediately began checking her parts. Satisfied, she thumped Zo a good one, waking the girl. “Now that I have your attention, Zoe. I’m not sore or leaking. I can only assume no one perpetrated evil doings on my body. What did you drug me with? I already know why.” Not content with Zo she asked me, “JW ... I am assuming, knowing Zo like I do, that you had nothing in this venture except the boat. And, you, Cynthia, were you aware?”

We all either confessed to (Zoe) or denied/lied about (Cyn and myself) involvement in the dastardly deed. Zo was properly contrite. Ranthe said, “A story to shock my grand children ... I can see it all. Christmas ... the family seated around the Great Room watching the little ones ... great grand kids ... slaughtering wrapping paper and I’ll say, ‘Did I ever tell you of how I was kidnapped? I shall have to wait for the riot to end before continuing.” She chuckled. “Again, Zo. What did you use to drug me?”