Chapter 8

Mark Shaffer settled back comfortably into the plush first-class seat on the Nassau-bound turbo-prop, and smiled contentedly. His fingers curled lazily around the drink resting on the pull-out table in front of him, and his thoughts turned pleasurably to the events of the last few days.

His meeting in Miami had gone off better than expected. He had hoped to get away to Nassau in three or four days, but here he was, already on his way. George Stewart was a man who didn't like to waste time, and Mark appreciated that. Stewart was the aging head of Marina's most successful chain of drive-in movie theatres, and Mark had gone to see him on a tip that the old man was interested in selling out and retiring from the business game. The tip had turned out to be right, and Mark had turned out to be very lucky.

Mark looked out the airplane's window, down to where the azure blue of the Caribbean stretched its clear water northwards toward the Atlantic. The plane was too high to distinguish anything on the surface except the glittering reflection of the sun, spreading its rays like liquid gold on the flat, unending surface. Turning his head away from the window, Mark thought again of the deal he'd made with the drive-in owner.

He'd made a good impression on George Stewart, he knew that. Maybe that had been the reason he'd gotten such a good deal. Stewart had even arranged, with a banker friend of his, to smooth the way for Mark's getting a loan to cover the balance of the sale price he couldn't raise himself. The only problem that stood in his way now was the sale of his car lot to Harry Johnson. He needed that money desperately to meet the down payment on the movie chain. But there was no reason to think that Johnson would back out. Mark smiled confidently. There was no stopping him now. He didn't look on this new enterprise as anything permanent, and he wasn't at all interested in spending the rest of his life overseeing the exhibition of old Doris Day movies and second-rate skin flicks. This movie business was only a stepping stone, only a way-station on the road to Mark's ultimate success. What form that success would take, Mark wasn't quite sure. He was only sure that it would happen, and nothing, and nobody, would stand in the way of his ambitions.

"Miss?..." Mark caught the attention of the young stewardess, held up his empty glass, and asked, "How about another one of these?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, I'm afraid we're only allowed to serve two drinks per passenger..."

"Oh, honey, please, I'm celebrating." Mark's face took on the look of half-innocence, half-suggestiveness, that he'd cultivated to handle just this kind of situation.

"Well," said the stewardess, hesitating, "I'm really not supposed to."

"I promise I won't tell a soul," Mark whispered conspiratorially, grinning his thanks up at her as though she had already capitulated.

"I'll see what I can do." The young girl smiled warmly, and turned to make her way along the aisle. Mark watched her slender hips as they brushed past the aisle seats, and thought lovingly of his own beautiful wife.

God, he'd missed her these past few days. It wasn't as though he had never been away before, he had, sometimes for a week or more. But Lynn on those occasions had always remained home, safe and secure. Now it was as though he was the one who'd stayed home, while she left to go live it up on a beautiful sea-cruise. What the hell, he thought to himself, it's good for her. She doesn't get out enough as it is. Mark hoped she hadn't done anything to upset Harry Johnson while she'd been on his boat, and if there was anything he was worried about now, it was that somehow, inexplicably, his deal with Harry would fall through in these last few days. But it wasn't a large worry. Mark knew that his wife was charming in social situations, and he'd never known a man to escape the magic of her "little girl" personality. He could already see her surprised face when he showed up in Nassau a day early.

"You're a doll," Mark took his new drink thankfully from the returning stewardess, and set it on the table in front of him. Handing the empty glass to her, he smiled and said, "Remind me to promote you to chief stewardess."

"I am chief stewardess," the lovely girl retorted, laughingly, "That's why you got the drink."

Mark again smiled his thanks as she left him, and then turned his thoughts once again to his wife. He hoped she'd been having fun, and that she'd overcome her innate shyness. That was her only weakness, and it wasn't even really a weakness, Mark thought. Sometimes she was just a little cold when men began to pay attention to her. Mark had explained to her that there was nothing harmful in returning some of that flirtation; after all, it was nothing but harmless fun. Nobody really ever meant anything by it, it was just a game people played with each other to amuse themselves. Lynn had never really been able to catch on, though, and Mark hoped that on the cruise with Johnson she'd been able to loosen up a bit.

He settled back again into his seat, and took a long sip of his drink. He was looking forward to the next few days, to seeing his wife, and even more to finalizing his deal with Harry. And as he closed his eyes in relaxation, it was not thoughts of Lynn that occupied his mind, but visions of an undefined and yet very real future, furnished with all the elegance and prestige his imagination could supply.

Mark smiled as his body and dreams continued separately towards Nassau, each speeding through the stratosphere at 475 miles per hour.

"Lynn, come on out here. I want to talk to you."

Harry Johnson waited, but heard no response from the locked cabin where Lynn had cloistered herself the last few hours of their voyage. They had arrived in Nassau, right on schedule, and were now moored securely to the main quay of the municipal wharf. Harry and Kate, and even Hans, had tried their luck in persuading Lynn to come out of her cabin, but none of them had had any luck. She had told them all, forcefully, to go away and leave her alone. Harry had sent Hans and his wife into town to take care of the hotel reservations and the refueling of the Vera, remaining behind himself to try to talk some sense into his apparently hysterical guest. Up until now, he had had no success.

"Lynn, dear, it's not going to do any good to sit in there and brood." Harry said gently, "Why don't you come on out and talk this thing over reasonably like a mature adult."

Again, no sound issued from the locked doors and Harry cast his mind about for some suitable lure. Then his face brightened cruelly, and he tried his one, infallible, trump card.

"Lynn, you're upsetting me terribly. Perhaps you'd just like to get on a plane and fly back to Florida. Would you like that?"

He smiled as he heard an affirmative moan from somewhere behind the door.

"Well, certainly, if that's what you want, go right ahead. No one here will stop you. But there is one thing I think you ought to know before you do that. Are you listening, dear? There is one unfortunate thing that would result from your leaving. I'm afraid I would be terribly offended. Yes, terribly offended."

His mouth twisted with sadistic pleasure as he imagined the reaction of what he was going to say would have on the trembling young woman inside. "What I am trying to say, Lynn, is that I am not a man who can separate my business life from my home life. And do you know what that means? That means that if I am offended at you dear, as I certainly would be if you left our little cruise prematurely, then I would feel compelled to be offended with your husband as well. Marriage is a unity, don't you agree? And I certainly couldn't be offended with you without including your husband, could I? Can you hear me, Lynn? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

For the first time, Lynn's voice was audible from behind the locked door, though her voice was blurred by tears and a frightening suspicion of his meaning.

"No, I don't know what you are talking about. Please... go away."

"Well then I'll tell you what I am talking about." Harry's voice was edged now with impatience, and irritation. "You get out here and quit pouting in there, or my little business deal with your husband is off. Do you understand that?"

"But why... what does that have to do..."

"It doesn't have a goddamn thing to do with it. I'm funny that way. But I'm also serious. Either you start taking an active part in our little cruise, or when your husband gets here, he is going to find his miserable car lot is still his miserable car lot. And I don't think he'll be very pleased about that, do you? Especially when I tell him it's your fault I've decided to retract my offer."

"You wouldn't..."

"I would, baby, I would. Now I'll be waiting in the main cabin, and I'll be waiting for you. Don't make me wait too long."

Harry grinned as he heard a fresh burst of sobbing from the closed cabin. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd convinced her to stop playing hard to get, even though he had used a bluff. There was no question that he would buy Mark's lot and then sell it to the city, but the poor, hysterical woman who lay crying in her cabin didn't know that.

Another person who didn't know that was Mark Shaffer, who was standing in line at customs in Nassau eagerly anticipating the surprise on everyone's faces when he showed up unexpectedly a day early.

Coming through customs, Mark made his way to the cab stand in front of the airline terminal. He grabbed one of the attendants, and asked where a boat would dock if it were coming into Nassau from Florida. Mark had only been given the address of the hotel, but he wanted to see first whether or not the boat had even docked. The attendant replied that all foreign boats had to pass through customs first, and to do that, they all had to tie up at the municipal pier. Mark felt like walking, and it was a beautiful day, so he asked directions, and then set off towards the harbor.

Soon, he could see the pin cushion of masts sticking up into the sky, and he turned down a side road that led to the wharf. He smiled, and began to whistle an enthusiastic, if somewhat off-key, tune. It was a great day, he was about to make a great business deal, and he was on his way to meet his great wife. What more could he ask for?

Harry Johnson glanced at the shaking woman across from him, decided that she was only good for maybe one more go, and then decided she'd still come across with more than he'd expected the first day of their voyage. What more could he ask for?

"Lynn, dear, you seem a little upset," he said, in a monstrous understatement.

The small, voluptuous woman's delicious shoulders heaved with the intensity of her inner struggle. She knew that Harry meant what he had said, about not buying Mark's car lot, and she knew that if he didn't, it would be her fault. She couldn't let that happen. Her mind searched desperately for some solution, but ran headlong every time into the complete hopelessness of her situation. And then, the sheer impossibility of escape, the recognition that her back was up against a wall, made her turn in helpless rage against her tormentor.

"Yes, I'm upset," she screamed. "I'm going out of my mind. I've been subjugated to every kind of humiliation possible on this boat. I've been raped, and forced to... forced to do terrible, evil things. You're a monster, a beast, you're playing with me like some kind of toy... but I'm not a toy, do you hear? I've got feelings, too, feelings..."

"That's right, baby, you've got feelings," Harry interrupted harshly. "I saw your feelings early this morning up on deck when you were sucking my cock. You had feelings. You loved it, every minute of it."

"No..." Lynn tried to interject.

"And that's what's really bothering you, isn't it baby? Your own feelings. Because nobody forced you to suck my cock, did they? You did that because you wanted me to shoot my sticky wad down that lovely virgin throat of yours, right?"

"No... no... I didn't..."

"Sure you did," Harry continued relentlessly. "And with Hans, too. He told me everything baby, you know that? He told me how you let him eat your little pussy, he told me how you loved every bite of that hungry cunt of yours."

Lynn threw her hands to her ears, trying to block out the obscene words he was drumming into her head, trying to rid herself of the unwelcome images his lewd descriptions were painting on her mind.

"It isn't true! It isn't!"

"It is true, and you know it! And right now your mind is racing around, wanting more, more cock, more fucking..."

"STOP IT!"

Lynn's scream was directed as much against herself as Harry. No, please God, please, this can't be true! And yet all the while Lynn knew that it was true. She had enjoyed Hans fucking her, eating her, she had enjoyed sucking Harry's cock dry of every drop of its burning seed. She shuddered in revulsion. What is wrong with me, am I that sick? Even now, her loins were on fire from the mere description of those acts, by the memory of every lurid, salacious, detail...

"Well, we'll just put you to a little test, Lynn dear," she heard Harry saying.

The desperately aroused girl looked up, and gasped at what she saw. Harry was standing in front of her, calmly unzipping the fly of his pants, unbuttoning the top button, sliding them off his hairy loins with a smooth, hypnotic motion. His jockey shorts bulged obscenely with the growing swell of his aroused cock, and his hand snaked along his hips, and in one quick move lowered his shorts to his knees, allowing his massively jutting cock to spring out toward Lynn with unbelievable force.

The small, trembling woman gasped, and yet could not take her eyes off the glistening shaft of flesh that stared her in the face with its one, monstrous eye. She couldn't even look up at Harry. She stared mesmerized by the jerking, swelling penis in front of her, immobilized by the twisting, aching sensations coursing through her veins and threatening to rob her of her sanity.

I am evil. I'm a whore. But I want to touch it. I want to hold and kiss it... and suck it again. Oh God, I've got to.

With a cry, Lynn threw herself onto her knees in a heap before Harry's hugely throbbing cock and began sobbing hysterically. Her mind was empty now, empty of all her self-recriminations, her self-debasement, her feelings of shame and humiliation. Her whole consciousness was focused insanely upon Harry's powerful tower of pulsating maleness, and she wasn't even aware of what Harry was saying as he groaned with pleasure above her.

"That's it, baby. That's right. You want it, and you can have it. Just like you did this morning. That's it. It'll do for a start, and then we'll go on to other games."

Mark walked out all the way to the end of the quay before he found what he was looking for. There she was, lying proudly at rest, the name Vera emblazoned on her hull with swirling gold letters. He hurried to the gangway, and then crept aboard silently, not wanting to spoil the surprise he was going to give his lovely young wife. He heard muffled voices coming from the main cabin, and tiptoed across the deck to the raised hatch cover. He peered inside, trying to accustom his eyes to the relative darkness of the cabin below, and then gasped as he saw the unmistakable form of his own, voluptuous wife, lying completely naked on the bunk below, working her wet mouth frantically around the huge cock of Harry Johnson.

"That's it, Lynn, baby! Suck it! Suck it like only you can! OOOOOHHHHH!!"

Mark reeled at the obscene commands his business competitor was calling to his own wife. His first inclination was to rush into the cabin, and to tear Harry's writhing cock from his young wife's unwilling mouth, but his resolve left him in a flood as he realized that Lynn was enjoying it, was not being forced, was eagerly devouring the huge shaft between her sucking, grasping lips.

Mark stood above them unnoticed, horribly mesmerized by the impossible obscene debauchery, for as long as three minutes, unable to overcome the enervating shock that immediately sapped the strength from his legs. He had never considered himself less than a comparably strong individual... capable of meeting and coping with most situations, but at that moment he felt completely hopeless.

The sight of the two of them naked, Lynn's beautiful white body straddling that of his competitor, Harry's hardened cock stroking sleekly in and out of her wet cavernous mouth, was the most salaciously hypnotic depravity he could ever imagine. At first, he'd thought he might be in the throes of a lurid nightmare, but then he realized that it was a horrible reality!

An almost bewitching sense of helplessness and rage overwhelmed Mark at that point, and he stumbled against the hatch cover for support. But even as his impotent anger began to boil inside him, he felt the unwanted stirring and swelling of his own cock inside his pants at the lascivious spectacle taking place before him. He gaped at Lynn hunched on all fours between Harry's spread legs, every inch of his massive cock completely absorbed inside her roundly ovalled lips and wildly sucking mouth, her magnificent breasts jiggling and swaying lewdly to her pumping motions while Harry strained his powerful loins upward at her face in rhythm. Damn, he reasoned, this couldn't be the first time this had happened... !

Suddenly, Harry looked up to where Mark was standing in horrible fascination, and started visibly. "Oh Christ... listen, Mark..."