"Do you taste that leather, b.i.t.c.h?" Mike growled. "That leather is going to be covered in your blood if you don't suck me, and suck me hard, do you understand?"

"Yes," she said around the gag of the whip. "Please . . ."

"That's right," Mike said. "Beg me, b.i.t.c.h. I like begging. Good slaves beg."

He tied the whip in place, then undid her bonds and shackled her hands behind her back and her feet together.

"Down on your knees, b.i.t.c.h," Mike said, dragging her off the bed. "You're going to suck me and suck me well or you're going to be whipped. And then I'll c.u.m in your mouth and you're going toswallowmy c.u.m. If you let one drop spill, you'll be tortured until you beg me to kill you."

He took her in the mouth, grabbing her hair in his right hand, his left hand wrapped with the whip so he had a short lash.

"Suck it, b.i.t.c.h," Mike said, pushing her head back and forth, careful not to penetrate too deeply. "Suck it harder," he growled, popping the lash behind her back.

"Please . . ." Pam said, pulling back.

"Please . . . who?" Mike said, whipping her lightly.

"Please, master," Pam moaned. "Don't come in my mouth."

"I'll do whatever I like to you," Mike said, stuffing his d.i.c.k back in her mouth and whipping her again.

"You are my slave. Youwilldo my bidding."

"Base, this is 315, go crypt, over."

"Base on crypt, go ahead, 315."

"Be aware, YachtWinter Bornhas left territorial waters and appears to be headed for Bahamas waters, over."

"Roger, 315."

"315, out."

Courtney flinched when the door opened, and she turned away when she saw Mike leading Pam in and carrying a black bag in his hand. Pam's hands were bound behind her and her legs hobbled with a chain so she could only take small steps. Mike smacked her on the a.s.s with the whip to get her to move faster, and she hobbled over to Courtney's bed, standing with her head bowed.

"I think it's time for me to take this little b.i.t.c.h," Mike said. "She can't give head worth a d.a.m.n, so I guess I'm going to have to get mine in her p.u.s.s.y. But I didn't think you should be left out, Blondie, so I brought her over so you could join in the good time."

Courtney moaned and turned her head away, shaking it.

"First, I think Courtney needs to be properly fitted," Mike said, laughing harshly and forcing Pam to her knees, then pointed at the bunk. "Stay there, b.i.t.c.h. Try to run and you'll be whipped until you bleed."

He reached into the bag and extracted two lengths of chain that he secured to the overhead bunk, then unclipped each of Courtney's ankles and reclipped them to the chain. When she was restrained, her b.u.t.t was lifted slightly off the bunk and her legs spread.

"Now for the fun part," Mike said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a harness that looked something like a leather chast.i.ty belt with attachments.

Courtney craned her head around to see it, then closed her eyes and let out a yell.

"Yes, you're going to have these jammed in your p.u.s.s.y and a.s.s," Mike said, chuckling evilly. "And it's going to happen with your stupid little friend watching you be humiliated. But it's okay; she's going to get raped right in front of your eyes. You avoid that, for now."

Mike took out a tube of KY jelly and rubbed it into Courtney's p.u.s.s.y and a.s.s, liberally covered the plugs on the harness. He gently inserted the b.u.t.t plug, then the v.a.g.i.n.al plug, then buckled the belt in place.

"You like that, b.i.t.c.h?" Mike shouted, grabbing Courtney's hair and shaking her head back and forth.

"You like the feel of that, b.i.t.c.h? Having a plug shoved up your a.s.s? I bet you like it."

"Now for you, b.i.t.c.h," Mike said, pulling Pam up by her arm and hair. He pushed her onto the bed then got her kneeling between Courtney's legs. He unbound Pam's arms and connected each of the wristbands to the D-rings on either side of Courtney's collar so that she was supporting her weight on her hands and forced to look right into Courtney's face. Last, he got a longer length of chain and spread her legs to either side of Courtney's, running the chain under Courtney's thighs so that there was no way for Pam to get away. She was left, wide spread, doggy position.

"Ooooo," Pam moaned, shaking her head.

"Yes, b.i.t.c.h," Mike said, picking up the whip and flicking it to barely touch her b.u.t.t. The crack as much as the touch elicited a yelp of pain and she started crying.

"I'm going to take you, now," Mike said, pulling a box out of the bag and setting it to the side. "I'm going to shove my d.i.c.k right up your p.u.s.s.y and c.u.m in it. I'm going to f.u.c.king rape you, b.i.t.c.h. You're nothing but my little slave, now, and a slave is all you'll ever be." He opened up the box and took out a vibrator, dropping his shorts and lining up on Pam's opening. "You're going to be raped, b.i.t.c.h, and raped hard.

But I don't want the other little b.i.t.c.h to feel left out, so . . ." He reached down to the harness and threw a small switch, engaging the vibrator that was built into Courtney's v.a.g.i.n.al plug.

Courtney let out a moan and her head went back, then shook from side to side as her wrists pulled at the restraints.

As she began to thrash, Mike thrust his fingers into Pam's opening, twisting them around and making sure she was wet.

"You like that, b.i.t.c.h?" Mike asked to a shaken head. "I'll give you something you like," he added, shoving his d.i.c.k into her p.u.s.s.y. She moaned and shook her head, crying.

"That's right, b.i.t.c.h, cry," Mike said. "That's a good little crying b.i.t.c.h. I'm going to break you, b.i.t.c.h, and make you into a good slave for men to take over and over again." As he said it, he slid the vibrator up and onto her c.l.i.t, turning it on. "Men are going to do nothing but f.u.c.k you for the rest of your life. You're both nothing but receptacles for men's c.u.m, for the rest of your lives."

Courtney came first, arching against the restraints, and he reached down and shut off the vibrator on the harness, then shut off the other as Pam came only moments later. He pounded her hard for a few seconds, really slamming her and imagining it as real rape, then came himself. All three of them had come in less than thirty seconds.

Pam was barely able to support herself, and he quickly released her and rolled her to the side, picking up a tissue from the box and gently sliding it between her legs, then took the harness off Courtney and released her hands.

"Christ," Courtney gasped, when she got the gag out of her mouth. "That was . . ."

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Pam said, still quivering.

"Come into the main cabin," Mike said. "I think this needs a solid snuggle to complete it."

When Pam had cleaned up and come into the cabin, her head down and looking ashamed, Mike pulled her and Courtney into his arms and hugged both of them to his chest.

"Do you remember when I told you I got a high just having you around?" Mike asked.

"Yes," Pam said quietly, ducking her head down.

"That time when we were first going out," Mike said, "and you were both up on the tuna tower and just .

. . grooving on the experience and having a blast, that was like the biggest high I could ever have. It was almost like being out of body. That is what I'm supposed to try to create in you girls, when we do those scenes. The job of the dom is to engage a series of emotions to cause some sort of a disconnect. You're almost insane, so into the moment you're no longer really in your body. That's what we're trying to achieve."

"Got it with me," Courtney said. "I was half that way before you got in the room from hearing you torturing Pam. I couldn't believe you were whipping her like that. Still can't."

"He wasn't, really," Pam said, quietly. "He popped me once, at first, and then slightly a couple of other times. But that first one was so . . . something, that every time the whip cracked after that I had to scream."

"I was trying to build the mood," Mike said. "Big question, did I push anyone out of scene? No, were you in scene?"

"I sure was," Pam said, shaking her head against his chest. "I couldn't keep track of reality and fantasy. I just stopped trying. You could have made me do anything and I would have obeyed. It was . . . scary. I didn't know there was that much . . ."

"Submission," Mike said, nodding.

"Submission in me," Pam said. "I'm not sure I like it."

"We'll work on that," Mike promised. "Courtney."

"The harness was . . ." She shook her head. "It was . . . fun and it really made me feel submissive, but the b.u.t.t plug was . . . that sort of threw me out of scene and into a near panic for a second or two. Then I just sort of . . . floated. I totally lost it when you put Pam over me. She was drooling . . ."

"That was so . . ." Pam said and stopped. "G.o.d . . ."

"Too much?" Mike asked.

"No, it was . . . so humiliating," Pam said, nearly crying. "And it felt sogood! I just . . ."

"Okay," Mike said, pulling her into his arms tighter. "It's okay. You're not a bad person for feeling this way. It's really, reallynormal; it's just something that people don't talk about. We'll talk about it over the next couple of days. I was going to stay in scene, but I think you guys need some distance to work through the emotions. Remember, it's all friends. And it's all about getting that mystic high that comes from really good s.e.x, really mind-blowing s.e.x. If it's no fun, if there's no bonding and no . . . love, then it's no good."

"Part of my problem," Pam said, shaking her head against his chest, "is I feel like such a . . . a . . . s.l.u.t. I got used and abused and I reallylikedit."

"It's okay," Mike said, stroking her hair. "That's the point. It's just that you're finding out, for the first time, what really good s.e.x, for you, is all about, and finding out how far into zone you can fall and what puts you there. You're still a good person, a lovely young lady, with emphasis on lady. What goes on beyond the bedroom door doesn't change that."

"You've got a nice voice, Mike," Courtney said, snuggling into his chest and yawning. "Aren't you the one who's supposed to go to sleep?"

"I will," Mike said, "in a bit. Coast into the arms of Morpheus," he said softly, holding them both. "Good dreams."

"Are you my lover or my father?" Pam asked sleepily.

"I'm your master," Mike said gently. "Nothing more nor less."

Chapter Nine.

When both of them were well asleep he slipped carefully out of the bed and out of the cabin. He'd been watching a blip on the radar for some time and was worried about it; it looked like a freighter coming up the Stream and they were going to pa.s.s close to each other.

He slipped on shorts and a shirt against the cool of the night and headed up to the flying bridge, getting some coffee going as he pa.s.sed through the lounge. Hewastired, from both the exercise and the day, and it was going to be a long night. He couldn't really a.s.sume that there wasn't anything on his course; he'd been keeping an eye on the radar during the entire scene. And he much preferred to be able to head up to the bridge without worrying about the girls' safety if he had to maneuver.

He checked all the instruments when he reached the bridge and everything was in the green, so he sped up, pushing the boat to its maximum cruising speed. The freighter was still on course to a close approach and he considered changing to pa.s.s astern. He probably would have to soon. But he got a cup of coffee first and considered the approaches. There was a way to calculate it, but he'd pretty much forgotten that particular equation over the years.

As it turned out, he only had to change course slightly to pa.s.s astern of the freighter. The wash was pretty heavy, but the yacht rode over it easily enough.

It was a couple of hours before dawn when he pulled into the protected harbor at Palm Key and dropped anchor. He'd considered continuing up the coast to Bimini and the Bahamas Customs Station where he could get his customs flag. That was going to be interesting. The Bahamas had an agreement about American officials carrying arms in the area, but they were generally death on firearms on ships. It was going to be interesting seeing how they reacted to his arms locker.

He got the anchors down, locked the doors against random pilfering, made his way to the cabin, got undressed, and snuggled up to Pam, wrapping an arm around her before falling fast asleep.

"G.o.d," Courtney said over a bowl of cereal, "I am sore in some of the oddest places."

"Me, too," Pam said, craning to look at her back. Both of the girls were wearing bikinis. "Are there marks?"

"Not as many as the ones that are still fading on Mike," Courtney said, grinning.

"They should fade pretty quick," Mike said. "We need to run up to Bimini to the Customs Station and get our flag."

"Flag?" Courtney asked.

"When you clear customs you fly a special flag," Mike said. "After that you can cruise anywhere in the Bahamas and not get stopped. But until we get the flag, if a customs or Coast Guard boat sees us, they'll stop us. I'll go weigh anchor and we'll get under way."

They cruised fast up the coastline of low-lying keys and shallow shoals, the girls oooing and aaahing in the tuna tower, until they reached Bimini and Mike slowed as they came to the entrance.

"Bimini's entrance really sucks," he said. "The Stream and storms can shift it a lot. And the Bahamas government hasn't dredged it in years."

"The channel markers are over there," Pam said, pointing to port.

"Yeah," Mike said, glancing over. "Only one problem, you can tell that's a shoal," he said. "Look at the sand. There it is," he said, pointing closer to starboard. "See where it's deeper?"

"Are we going to go aground?" Courtney asked, grabbing the railing.

"Hopefully not," Mike said, shrugging. The entrance channel had to be entered perpendicular to the Stream, which was a little tricky, and then the deeper water-it couldn't be characterized as "deep"-turned hard to port. He made the turn with a touch of bow thruster and continued up the channel, which was more or less straight, into the deeper water of the dredged harbor.

When they got to the customs dock, he had the girls help him with the lines and told them to stay on the boat.

"Why?" Pam asked, looking around the harbor.

"Technically, until you're checked in, you're illegal in the Bahamas," Mike said. "I have to go get us checked in."

He carried his scanty log, well aware that there should be more entries-exited Islamorada harbor, took two slave-girls . . . no-and headed for the customs shed. There was a small Bahamas Coast Guard cutter tied by the shed and he noticed that the crew seemed unusually alert and sharp for Bahamas troops.

The shed was a small building broken up into a couple of rooms with a counter at the front manned by a bored clerk.

"YachtWinter Born, U.S., out of Islamorada," Mike said, handing over his log and pa.s.senger list.

"Myself and two pa.s.sengers." Then he started pulling out credentials.

The clerk took the pa.s.senger list and made an entry, then glanced at the log in disinterest and picked up the credentials. When he saw the Federal Marshal certification and weapons cert, his eyes widened.

"Hold on, mon," he said, getting up. "I gotta get an officer."

"That's fine," Mike said.

Two officers came out of the back with the clerk, one that was clearly the station chief and another, a colonel of the constabulary if Mike remembered his insignia, who was a big, broad man in stiffly starched khakis.

"Mr. . . . Jenkins," the colonel said, shaking his hand. "Colonel Horatio Montcrief, Constabulary. Glad to have you in Bimini. Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," Mike said. "I have a couple of college coeds with me who have never been to the Bahamas.