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<pre>
 <br><br>
 <font color=blue>
 Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 </font>
 Phoenix Rising

   -----------------------

   An adult tale by Miss Irene Clearmont.

   Copyright 2011 (Nov)

   Henry is a rich layabout who is just waiting for his twenty fifth
birthday so he can claim his inheritance.  A massive blowout in a Bahamas
casino finds him looking for a little cash and something to allay the
boredom.  The deckhand job on the small cutter, the `Phoenix', turns out to
be just the ticket; a ticket on a ride that assumes a serious turn when he
starts to uncover the intentions and duplicity of his employers.  Irene.

   ------------------------------------

   Phoenix Rising

   ------------------------

   Chapter 1.  Boats Missed.

   ---------------------

   Henry had a gambling problem.  Actually it could be fairly said that
Henry had a great many problems in his life!  Gambling, drinking and being
a womanising slob were his principal problems but there were other
character flaws that occasionally made themselves felt.  Usually they did
not affect his life at all, or at least he did not allow them to.

   Tardiness, facetiousness, indolence, licentiousness and shiftlessness
were all minor traits that could have been listed as his trivial negative
qualities.

   In fact they battled for attention!

   After all, Henry was really quite well off, in fact he was rather
wealthy; though to look at him you would have thought that he was a typical
wastrel.  The trouble was that he was twenty four and until his twenty
fifth birthday, he was as rich as Croesus but only on paper.

   Every nephew and niece dreams of being the recipient of a fortune from
an uncle or aunt.  For Henry that dream had come true.  Aunt Maisy had left
him millions but she knew him well, too well.  So the will was read and the
usual fortune went to charity and good causes.  Henry was the recipient of
the fifteen million that was left over, but strings were attached.  Until
he was twenty-five he was `only' paid ten thousand dollars a month from the
trust fund, auntie Maisy had known what she was doing.

   That had been four years ago and now that red letter day was approaching
fast, but not soon enough for Henry.  Not that that made a difference in
his attitude and the way that he viewed life.  He took his allowance in
cash every month and spent it, often in the first few days, to leave him
destitute the rest of the month as he waited for the next lump sum of cash.

   On the island of Nassau, in the Bahamas islands, is more than one
Casino. Each one was like a little slice of heaven for Henry.  A place
where all those character traits could mix, combine and ferment to form a
heady cocktail of conduct that was tolerated because of the money that he
could play, and lose, on the dice tables.

   How had he got there?

   Well there are so many ways, but the one that Henry had used was to take
a cruise.  Over the years he had often taken cruises when the `binge'
feeling overwhelmed what little self control he had managed to garner.  He
found that paying for all the basics of life a month in advance meant that
he could spend the rest and always had some security to fall back on.

   That had been the plan.

   Four days from Miami and then three days on the island.  Gambling and
whoring, drinking and maybe doing the odd line of coke.  Then back on the
ship and another two weeks that would take him to Aruba or Curacao before
he turned around to be back in the bank of America in Miami to pick up the
next dollop of aunty Maisy's fortune in cash.



   That fourth day in the Paradise Island Casino had been nothing less than
a twenty four hour binge.  Henry had won big for the first time.  With just
five thousand he had been the main benefactor of a three hour roll that had
seen him empty the table float and a follow on fill of a hundred grand. 
The heady, elevated thrill of having a pile of chips a mile high, the
adoration of the female guests and the whiskey all combined to fix Henry to
the table as he tried to recreate his win and go for a million.

   Of course it was not to be.

   It never is.

   The dice were passed, the rolls petered out and all the drunken strategy
in his fevered mind came to naught.  The dawn was breaking as Henry left
the casino with dragging feet, to find a taxi to take him back to the ship.


   "Fuck aunty Maisy," he muttered as he realised that he did not even have
enough money to take a taxi.

   The reason for his bitter mood was the fact that he knew that credit was
the one thing that the conditions of the will did not allow.  A single
credit card, loan, floater, mortgage, prepayment or retainer and the money
would be gone.

   Gone forever to some cat home or good cause that had nothing to do with
Henry.  Worst of all was that that lawyer, Mrs Crystal Veryon, who
controlled the trust fund, knew that if she could just catch Henry
panhandling once then she would be the main beneficiary because the trust
fund would live on and she took her fees as the administrator.



   That bitch was like a spider in the middle of his life, her tight lips
and old fashioned politeness, looking down at him.  To her he was the only
thing that stood between the money and her own bank account.  All she had
to do was catch him out.

   Once!

   After about six months he had realised that that prissy cunt of a lawyer
had even set a private detective on his tail to check his every move.  Had
he taken out any loans?  Was Henry breaking the terms of the will?  Even
his E mail account and his Facebook page had been hacked but nothing had
come of it.

   The result of this harassment had made him cautious and careful to stick
absolutely to the rules.  The money remained in the trust fund and he was
nearly through the tunnel.  Soon he would be rid of her and all her wiles.

   So Henry walked from the casino to the dock!

   But the huge silhouette of the ship was gone.

   Missing!

   Tardiness had claimed its victim.

   He looked at his watch and realised that the fucking ship had gone on
without him and now he was stranded in the docks in Nassau with not a red
cent in his pocket and two weeks to manage without any money at all.  No
money and no way of getting his hands on any money.

   So he sat.

   Henry had one character trait that held him in good stead, he lived in
hope.

   So he sat on a crate and thought about what he was going to do.  Well,
eating for the next few days was really no problem.  He had enough player
points to eat burgers for a month in the casino and if he asked for a room
he might just get one.

   Henry walked along the docks, from the massive piers where the liners
docked, opposite Potters Cay, where the smaller boats and yachts of the
rich were tied up.  From there he could see the casino and the blue of the
bay.

   At last he found himself looking at the boats tied up and thought that
in just a few short months he would be able to buy his own and solve all
his problems when his twenty fifth birthday arrived with a bundle of money
that even he could not spend quickly.

   Or at least too quickly.

   He cast a professional eye over the boats, motor cruisers, yachts and
others that were almost small cruise ships before deciding that what he
would buy would be at least thirty metres long and fast.

   In the end it was all a daydream and he could feel the first pangs of
hunger that meant that he would have to return to the casino and start
begging from some fucking supercilious manager to get a room.

   The walk was long and left him exhausted but at last he was over the
toll bridge and sitting in the player's bar that stood at the centre of ten
empty craps tables.

   He pulled his player's card from his pocket and proffered it.  In
exchange he got a burger and fries and a whisky to smooth it down.

   This was going to be a long two weeks...

   Chapter 2.  Boats Found.

   ----------------------

   With a little greasy crawling and continual references to the three
hundred thousand that he had lost back to the tables, Henry managed to
arrange a two week stay in the hotel at the back of the casino as well as
enough player points to feed himself and drink a little as well.

   So it was that three days after his loss he sat in the midst of a busy
gaming floor looking longingly at the women and men who played at the
tables.  There but for a seven rolled, that damned one and six, stood
Henry, at the centre of the storm.

   He found himself sitting next to a guy in jeans and T shirt who by
coincidence was drinking the same brand of Bourbon by the glass full.  Not
having had a conversation for three days, Henry made a comment which was
answered in a friendly fashion and the conversation was under way.

   "Name's Larry, call me `Las'."

   "So what are you doing here?  Las," said Henry's new friend as they
raised another glass.

   "I'm one of those people who get stranded when the cruise ship leaves on
time," replied Henry.

   "Huh, bad luck."

   "Times two, I was well ahead on the craps and then I lost it and missed
the ship."

   "So?  Wired for some money then?"

   "Can't until next month."

   "Well that's a shit result, what you gonna do for the next few weeks
then for money?"

   Henry laughed.  The whole problem was one of tedium, nothing else now,
so he felt that he could relax and not feel so depressed about the whole
thing.

   "Nothing, I'm living on my player points!" said Henry.

   "Well I am a pilot, for Nassau harbour, I might be able to find some
work for you.  There is always a need for casual labour to clean and polish
the boats and so on."

   "I'm not sure," pondered Henry.  "I mean it's not going to bring much."

   "Just saying.  A couple of hundred would at least see you with a better
grade of Bourbon in your hand, if nothing else."

   "Where do I find you?  I mean if I want to take it up..."

   "We're at the end of Potters Cay; come in tomorrow afternoon and maybe
something will have shown up!"

   When Henry was back in his room he contemplated the idea of working. 
Never had a hundred dollars seemed so much money as it looked like now.

   Boredom.

   That was the main problem.  Being occupied always needed dollars, and in
Henry's case, thousands.

   *****

   The next day Henry found his steps taking him to Las' office.  The
thought of having another chat with the pilot was almost as attractive as
the idea of earning a few dollars.

   The office was not busy and Las was sitting in the sun outside smoking a
cigarette and having a tea.

   "Hi," said Henry.  "I just thought I'd come along to see what's going
on."

   "Not much at the moment, but funnily enough I think that I've found a
berth for you, on the `Phoenix'."

   "Oh, I really didn't want to leave Nassau.  I suppose that I was looking
for harbour work!"

   "As you like," replied Las with a grin as he offered a cigarette to
Henry.

   After a few moments Henry could not help himself asking about the job.

   "Well," said Las as though he had expected the question and already got
his thoughts in order.  "You see that small cruiser, there?"

   He pointed at a fairly large motor yacht, the Phoenix, that was sitting
lightly in the water on the dock.

   "Mmm."

   "Well they are looking for a reliable man to take with them on a week's
fishing expedition.  All he has to do is to man the wheel and make sure
that the boat does not drift when they go diving."

   "I've never sailed a boat like that," said Henry as he looked at the
thirty metre boat and pondered if he could bull-shit his way on board.

   "Nothing to worry about, Henry," said Las.  "I'll introduce you and then
we'll take a quick trip on mine to show you the ropes.  Piece of cake
really."

   Las stood with a grunt and led Henry down the quay to the motor cruiser.
It was an old fashioned fifties wood hulled cruiser that was both low and
sleek, but was covered in brass fittings and mahogany that made it look
dated compared to the gleaming translucent hulls of the ships moored to
either side.

   He bent down and rapped on the deck before they used the gang plank to
board.

   "Nothing the girls like better than a bit of old fashioned courtesy," he
commented as he called out, "permission to come on board."

   A young woman emerged onto the deck and smiled when she saw Las. 
Dressed in slacks, a loose top and just bare feet she stepped over the
wooden deck and shook Las' hand.

   "Trudy, how's it going?" said Las.

   "Hi there, Las," she said in a breezy voice.  "Who's your friend?"

   "This is Henry," said Las as he introduced them.  "He's had a couple of
years experience on the water and might be the man who you're looking for
to man the boat."

   "Sounds good."

   Trudy led them down the deck to a sunken stair that down into the bowels
of the ship.  Emerging from this stairwell was a man of about fifty who
smiled and introduced himself as Steve.

   "Call me `silent Steve'," he said with a grin.

   Henry looked at him, impressed.  It was not that he was huge or
muscle-bound but he was clearly an incredibly strong man.  Just the grip of
his hand had made Henry gulp as the enormous fingers enveloped his hand and
squeezed almost to the point of pain.

   Trudy smiled and asked of Steve, "Where's Valerie?  Still in Nassau?"

   "Yep," was all that Steve said.

   "OK then, Henry.  What we need is really quite simple," said Trudy, "We
are heading out to the Turks and Caicos for some fishing, a little diving
and then back here.  If the weather holds a week or maybe two, if it turns
bad then we probably are out only a couple of days."

   Henry smiled.  He was normally good at begging for money but he was not
sure that he knew how to ask.  He was rescued by Las.

   "You said that you were offering a hundred a day, for the right man?"

   "That's right," said Trudy.  "So between a few hundred and a thousand
probably.  You've got to keep the boat ready, a little polishing and
staying out of the way as well as you will be sort of butler as well!  You
can cook?"

   "I do a mean omelette," laughed Henry, "and I know every cocktail under
the sun so there should not be any problem!"

   "Sounds good," said Trudy, "be back here at seven tomorrow and we'll be
off.  Bring a passport."

   *****

   Las and Henry stood looking at the Phoenix for a moment from the
dockside.  There was no doubt that the old-fashioned lines of the big boat
combined with the wood and brass made it a stunning work of art.

   "Listen," said Las.  "You'd better take my card, we've gotta meet up for
your lessons later and you'd better take my number."

   "OK," said Henry as Las opened his wallet and pulled out a card with his
phone number already scrawled on it in his untidy hand.  Henry noticed that
the wallet was stuffed with cash.

   All in hundreds, but he affected not to notice.

   `There must be plenty of opportunity for a bit of business as a pilot,'
he thought as he changed the subject.

   "That Trudy, she's a bit hot,' he said.

   "Yep!  She's a looker," said Las as they headed back to his office after
a casual `good bye'.  "But you should see her friend, Valerie!  She was my
wet dream for a year until I realised that she's less horny than ornery, I
like `em big and a bit older than most men."

   "Who's that Steve character?" asked Henry.

   "Not sure, because I don't think that he's with either of them, the two
women."

   "Strange!"

   "Not really, Valerie is pretty rich, or at least she has loads of money
from what I can gather and Trudy is her girlfriend.  Steve's just their
factotum and the pilot of the cutter.  They are here about once a month for
the diving and so on."

   "Oh right."

   Henry felt a little let down, Trudy had struck him as a bit tasty and he
was disappointed that she was probably not available.

   Chapter 3.  North.

   --------

   Henry had arrived, on time, with his one bag and a feeling that he was
embarking on an adventure.  The money was just a joke to him, it was the
trip and the escape from boredom that had hooked him.



   The two hours on Las' boat, yesterday, had given him a good
understanding of how to steer and handle the boat.  Not really as difficult
as he had imagined, with a wheel and the various throttles and so on he
quickly understood how it all worked.

   He could not understand why Las had so taken with him and showed him the
ropes all at his own cost.  On the other hand Henry was a man that took for
granted that all his friends loved his wit, his easy going manner and his
good looks.

   He was shown a cabin at the very front of the vessel that just fitted a
barred cot and a small cupboard.  A single thick glass porthole allowed him
to look out and a sink provided a trickle of fresh water.

   Steve spent almost all of his time tending to the huge engines and doing
various tasks that Henry took to be the normal run of the mill of operating
the cutter.

   Valerie.

   Henry could understand Las' interest in her.  Tall, and big in every
way, she had been striking years ago, but it was made pretty clear early on
that the two women formed a close couple and that even Steve did as he was
told when Valerie ordered it.

   Henry soon found that he was at a loose end and when Valerie noticed it
she started to give him a stream of things to do.

   Polish the brass work on the decks, cook a meal in the galley, make
cocktails, wash up and keep lookout.  Even with all this petty work to do
Henry had time to observe the boat's occupants and make judgements about
them.

   As far as he could see, Steve was nothing more or less than the
mechanic, odd job man and oft times steersman of the boat.  Calm and
unperturbed he did as he was told by the two women without a murmur.

   On the other hand, Trudy seemed flighty and constantly happy.  She spent
a great deal of time on the foredeck soaking in the sun, topless and
seemingly unaware of the gaze of a rather avid Henry.  He watched her
undress and then lie first face down and then she turned to even the tan.
She was slim, narrow hips and waist and long legs.

   Tattoos embellished her, from breasts to the tops of her thighs, a
pattern that Henry found fascinating, sort of a paisley pattern, like a
quilt of colour that faded at the edges and was strongly colorized in the
middle where it vanished under her slight bikini bottom.  Then there were
those breasts.  The sun caught the flash of gold at their tips that were
the reflections on gold piercings that adorned the nipples.

   Last on the list to be under the inspection glass was Valerie.  She
spent a great deal of the time at the wheel letting her long red hair flow
in the wind as the cutter made its way north through the crowded sea lanes
between the various islands of the Bahamas.  She wore tight clothing, jeans
and blouse, which showed her figure to considerable advantage.  Large
breasted and wide hipped she had compensating long legs that put the
picture in balance.  There was no way that Henry would have described her
as beautiful, but he had to admit that she had something; something
authoritarian and potent in her personality even if she was more than twice
his age.

   Valerie expected her orders to be followed and Henry could understand
how it was that they were!  She had a sort of natural formidable
personality that brooked no contrary word.

   At night they moored in the lee of some small cays and then they pressed
on, but in a leisurely fashion.  With Hugh making the drinks and Steve
tending the engines.

   As Henry had no idea about navigation, and in fact never even thought
about it, he did not realise that they were not heading south east where
the Turks and Caicos Islands beckoned but north, parallel to the coast of
Florida, but with that land well below the horizon.

   Henry started to enjoy himself despite the tyranny of Valerie's po-faced
rule.  He polished the brass work and got useful experience with steering
the vessel as they went.  His omelettes were celebrated and in demand and
the bit of tidying and work that he had to additionally do under the
watchful eye of Valerie did not stop him enjoying the sight of Trudy and
her quilt-work markings.

   Chapter 4.

   Swimming In Deep Waters.

   ----------------------------------------

   The weather held, so Henry figured that he could expect the full two
weeks on the boat.  For some reason he found that he was enjoying himself
enormously, such a change from the pseudo delight of the craps tables and
the solace of all that Bourbon.

   West End Key is a western extension of Great Abaco, a narrow bar of
sand, coral and rock that extends like an accusing finger pointing at
Florida.  Below it, just to the south, are a collection of cays that nestle
in the shallow waters and provide sighting marks for sailors and a
distraction from the intense blue for tourists.

   The fishing is good and the diving is great there, amongst those slivers
of land.  It was there that the Phoenix finished up with its four diverse
passengers.

   They spent a day fishing while Steve spent his day gazing through the
powerful binoculars that he pulled out of his cabin.

   It was Valerie that most seemed to want to reel in a big Bluefin but it
was Trudy that attracted the fish.  The pan fried steaks that resulted were
one of the best meals that Henry had ever eaten, or maybe it was just the
blue of the sea in the sunset and the gentle swaying of the cutter that
lulled him into his state of enjoyment.

   The next day Valerie moved the boat closer to the small cays and Steve,
Valerie and Trudy did some scuba diving.  The water was shallow and clear
as crystal so Henry spent his time watching the three of them as they swam.


   To his imagination Trudy was like some exotic fish, the patterns of her
tattoos seemed like scales on her body.  Steve was a whale, even through
the surface of the azure he seemed huge and powerful, a deliberate and
purposeful swimmer.  Valerie was the lurking shark, she stayed by Trudy and
swam to and fro as she kept a watch over her prey, continually looking up
to check that the cutter was still in sight.

   In the end Henry got bored and turned to the various small tasks that
Valerie had given him before the dive.  He was a little jealous of the
other three, but then, not only had diving and swimming never really
appealed to him, he convinced himself that one of the four had to stay
aboard.

   The sun burned down and Henry put on a huge battered straw hat that he
had found in a locker.  Starting at the front of the boat, over his own
cabin he worked his way back, polishing the brass before working on all the
varnished wood that formed the decks of the boat.  Finally he lifted the
hatches over the engines so that he could polish the gratings and he got a
surprise.

   Anyone who is interested in American cars will know about the Hemi-426.
Henry, who was a bit of an aficionado, immediately recognised the four huge
Chrysler car engines that sat in the rear of this boat that would make it
one of the fastest things on the water!  This was untrammelled raw power
even if these engines had not been tuned.

   Henry quickly put the hatches back in their place all the while he
wondered why a boat like this, a pleasure cutter, a casual cruiser, might
need over two thousand horsepower under its bonnet.  It really didn't make
any sense unless...  unless of course the boat was some sort of `go fast',
in other words a smuggling boat.

   But what was there to smuggle here, on a diving and fishing trip in the
north Caribbean?

   Well, he decided it had to be drugs, what else was there to move from
South to North America that could be worth enough to afford this type of
boat?

   A shiver passed along his spine as thought that he was involved in some
sort of illegal activity that was punishable by life in jail.  Somehow he
had to get off this boat.  Then another thought occurred to him.

   They knew who he was!

   If he cut and ran then some crazy drugs cartel or some such would be
after him, he knew the boat, the people and now that they were smuggling.

   A rising tide of fear made his legs feel weak and a pit in his stomach
full of nervous butterflies made him feel enervated.  It had all seemed
such a lark, a way to pick up a little money and spend a couple of weeks
lounging around.  A couple of weeks that would bring him ever closer to his
all important twenty fifth birthday.

   `So should I stay or should I go?' he asked himself, `If I stay there
will be trouble...'

   The song rattled through his head and somehow made it all look like some
sort of television story.  Miami Vice or something else dated from the
eighties like Magnum.  Glamorous smugglers and their innocent, naive but
clever dupe.

   `Well they haven't been caught yet and they don't even know that my name
is anything other than just `Henry',' he thought as he wondered about
bailing out.  `I'll just go along for the ride and disappear.'

   Then it occurred to him that his passport was in a drawer his cabin,
he'd better hide it or keep it with him to make sure...

   He made his way to the small cabin and opened the top drawer where he
had put the passport, but it was gone.  Frantically, and somewhat
illogically, he looked around before starting a search of the tiny space.

   He opened the second drawer to find the passport safe and sound.  He
paused as he tried to remember when he had moved it; he had been so sure
that it was in the top drawer.  He flipped it in the air and slid it into
the pocket on his cargo pants.

   At that moment he heard the return of his three passengers and he headed
to the deck to meet them.

   Chapter 5.

   Revelation.

   -----------------

   A couple of days passed in a seemingly idyllic setting.

   A boat sitting on the azure waters of various lagoons with the palms and
beaches of the cays in the background.  Frosty Valerie, painted Trudy and
silent Steve dived and fished.  Sometimes with scuba gear and tanks,
sometimes just snorkelling they enjoyed themselves while Henry sat on the
deck and watched the boat.

   It was starting to look as if Henry's fears were unfounded.

   He was expecting to see them hauling packets of drugs from the sea or
some such, but even though he watched every move that they made they only
brought up speared fish for their meals.

   "We have to be heading back soon," said Trudy to Henry one evening, "but
the weather is perfect and the moon is full so Valerie wants to do a
midnight dive tonight."

   "How long will the dive be?" asked Henry, concerned about having to
steer the boat at night when he could not follow the divers.

   "Just an hour or two."

   "Where?"

   Valerie entered the galley and put an arm about Trudy possessively.

   "Around here, the coral is perfect," said Valerie.

   "I'm not sure if I should come along," said Trudy as she held up her
hand with the bandage that covered a cut that she had got whilst on the
last dive.

   "Nonsense," said Valerie.  "That little cut is nothing."

   "Please, it hurts."

   It was the first time that Henry had seen the pair of them argue or act
anything other than like the perfect couple.  He stayed out of the
squabble, not wanting to get involved.

   "The conditions are perfect, you really should come."

   There was a moment's pause and Henry wondered whether Trudy would take
the way out or not.

   "No, really," said Trudy as a slight whine entered her voice.  "The sea
water will make it worse."

   Valerie made a dissatisfied sound and then stared at Henry as if he were
the cause of the disagreement.  Finally, since he said nothing but
continued to beat the eggs and grate the cheese for the evening meal,
Valerie gave up and stomped out of the galley and paced the deck.

   Henry did not speak to Trudy he just continued making the meal.

   "I just hate diving," said Trudy confidentially to Henry.  "I just do it
because Valerie says that I have to!"

   "Mmm," replied Henry.

   There was no way that he was going to get involved in this spat between
lovers, he had decided that all he wanted to do was get off this strange
ship of fools and get back to Miami.  He would breathe a sigh of relief
when it was all over.

   *****

   That night at eleven the two divers, Steve and Valerie, started to
prepare for their adventure.  It was clear that Valerie was angry with
Trudy as she did not speak to her at all and cast her continuous looks of
ill will that spoke volumes.

   At last they were in the water and the navigation lights were switched
on.  The sea, with its soft swell, had an eerie quality, contemplative and
flecked with the reflections of the full moon that was almost at zenith.

   With two soft splashes, Steve and Valerie were gone and Henry stood in
the cockpit looking for signs of the bubble trails from the divers that
would give some small indication of their position under the water.

   Trudy climbed the couple of steps and stood by him for a while.  She
seemed nervous, almost frightened as he stood watching the water.

   Finally, after thirty minutes or so, she spoke in a soft voice.

   "Henry?"

   Without taking his eyes from the smooth water Henry answered with a
small sound.

   "We have to go!"

   Henry turned to her and saw that she had tears in her eyes and her face
was animated by some passion that he could not quite put his finger on.

   "Pardon?" he said.

   "We have to start the engines and leave, now!"

   "What?  Why?"

   Her voice carried a quiver of a sob as she continued.

   "Valerie!  I have to escape her!"

   "That's a bit heavy isn't it?  I mean leaving them in the middle of the
Caribbean here, to end a love affair over a small spat?"

   "You just don't understand," she cried as she tried to reach the starter
button.  "She's not my lover, not willingly anyway.  She owns me!"

   At last Henry took his gaze from the swell and looked at her.

   "What do you mean?  Owns you?"

   For a moment Trudy was so emotionally distressed that she could not
speak.  Henry put his hands on her shoulders.

   "Just leave her in Nassau," he said.  "I mean we get back in a day or
so..."

   "God!  Henry, I cannot just run in Nassau," sobbed Trudy, "She has my
passport and, and everything."

   Henry looked at her and wondered what was going on that he didn't
understand.

   "Valerie owns me.  That means that I am hers, she bought me from a place
in Long Island where they train their victims and then sell them to rich
people like Valerie for their amusement."

   Henry had never heard anything like it in his wildest dreams.

   "She is the very devil and I have to escape," said Trudy.  "Please help
me!"

   Henry started to think that Trudy was crazy.  This was a preposterous
tale that belonged to the script of some cheap film.

   "That's none of my concern," he said as he turned his gaze back to the
water and hoped that this mad woman would just go away and stop spinning
fantastic tales.

   "You just don't believe me, do you?"

   "No!" he replied in a strong tone.  "Speak to her and leave at Nassau,
like I said.  It's nothing to do with me!"

   There was a moment's silence before Trudy shook him by the shoulder and
said, "We haven't got much time, I'll just have to show you the truth and
then if what I say is verifiable then you promise to get us out of here?"

   Henry looked at his watch.  One hour of the dive was done and the tanks
held just over two hours of gas for Valerie and Steve.  He nodded assent
wearily and followed the eager Trudy down into the depths of the cruiser.

   She opened the cabin that she and Valerie used to reveal that almost the
whole cabin was a bed.  Henry squeezed into the small space and shrugged
his shoulders.  That Trudy and Valerie were addicted to fucking was
certainly no surprise.

   Trudy threw herself onto the bed and Henry almost cut and ran as he
misinterpreted the move as a pass, an invitation of sorts.

   "It's here," muttered Trudy as she pulled up a corner of the thin
mattress and pulled out a box that rattled.

   In triumph she opened the box to reveal a selection of sex toys that
would have shamed a depraved debauchee.  Chains and plastic cocks filled
the box as well as other items that Henry could not really identify that
looked like jewellery.

   He shrugged noncommittally at the tearful Trudy.

   All of this was proof that he'd better not get mixed up with these two
strange women.

   Trudy started to shout at him in a loud voice: "Don't you see, they want
you too.  It's you they want..."

   "Pardon, why would an aging dyke lesbian like Valerie want me when she
has a cute little thing like you?"

   Henry had already turned and was on his way back to the deck when the
answer came and stopped him dead.

   "For your money!"

   He came back to see her tipping the contents of the box onto the bed
with a rattle of chains and handcuffs and then she turned to face him.

   "I didn't hear all of it; I only caught part of the conversation..."

   Henry was shaking her now.  "What conversation?"

   "That there was some person, a woman I think, that has asked Valerie to
do something with you.  I think I heard something about a loan being
signed."

   Henry let her go and stared at her.

   `What the fuck is all this?' he thought with his mind in turmoil.

   "Do you owe money?" asked Trudy.  "I mean I know that some of the people
who were being trained as slaves owed money that they couldn't pay back."

   "No, I don't owe money," he said.

   There must be more truth to this than he had thought after all.  He
thought of that bitch lawyer in Miami and how she had had him followed.

   "Well I don't know why that awful policeman in Nassau pretended to be
someone else then!"

   "What do you mean?" he asked.  "Policeman?"

   That `Las' guy, he owes a fortune in the casinos and Valerie was
laughing about how cheaply she had bought him.

   Henry thought back.

   They had met in the Pilot's office in the docks.  No; that was not true
they had met outside and then Henry thought of how easily he had been
tricked onto the boat.

   Another thing occurred to him and he pulled his passport from his pocket
and opened it.  All the pages were blank!

   Every single one.

   It had the right cover but it was not his passport, it was nobody's
passport.  No wonder that it had been in the wrong drawer!

   "We can't waste time like this," cried Trudy.  "We have to get out of
here before they come back.

   "I need my passport," he said as he crashed through the boat and flung
open his cabin door.

   "It will still be on the bloody boat if we escape," shouted Trudy. 
"Find it later but for fuck's sake get a fucking move on."

   It took a moment before Henry realised that she was keeping her head
while he was losing his and he raced for the exit to the deck.

   Trudy disappeared out of his sight and then he saw Steve stepping into
corridor by the galley!

   He was dressed in his wet suit and a knife was in his hand.

   Chapter 6.  Negotiation.

   -----------------

   For a moment Henry was actually on the point of attacking Steve despite
the knife and his physical prowess.  Steve made a small movement with his
hand and flipped the savage looking knife to face the point away from his
thumb so that he was holding it like a dagger and Henry felt his enthusiasm
for a fight fade and wither.

   As the two stood in a standoff that could only end in Henry surrendering
Valerie appeared behind Steve dragging Tanya by the wrist.  Valerie in a
wet suit was a sight to behold, all curves and overly feminine contour.

   With a jerk she flung Tanya to the floor and placed a foot on her neck
as if to prove her complete control.

   "I think that we caught the two elopers just in time," said Valerie in a
grating voice.  "This slave has managed to overcome her training and act
independently.  I suppose that I will have to claim a refund on goods that
do not serve their intended purpose!"

   A smile played on Steve's lips for a moment as the irony of her comment
tickled his black sense of humour.

   The boat moved as there was a dull thump, another boat had come
alongside and there was a call from the deck.  Valerie and Steve ignored
the voices and continued.

   "On the floor bitch," said Steve.

   Henry did not understand that Steve was talking to him and did not move;
so that he blow from the left forearm caught him by surprise and laid Henry
out on the narrow floor.

   "That's better, bitch," said Steve as he reached into Valerie's cabin
and recovered a pair of handcuffs.  He tossed these to Valerie who cuffed
Tanya to a pipe before he did the same for Henry himself.

   Valerie padded over to Henry and looked down at him with a smile.

   "This was not quite the way that we had it planned, Henry," she said as
she started to unzip the wet suit.  "We were going to just make you sign
the backdated loan form so that when you got back to the casino you would
have a bit of credit.  Then, if I understand it right, you would lose your
trust fund and so on and I would receive a remuneration that paid for all
my expense and hard work in organising this small undertaking.  Our plans
have changed now that my friend has turned up, so we will have to
extemporise now and throw the old strategy away."

   "I will pay you myself if you let me go," said Henry.  "I mean, in six
months I get my inheritance and I can pay you."

   "Mmm.  An interesting offer, Henry, and one that certainly is worth
considering.  How much are you willing to give me?"

   "Double what you are getting from Crystal, that bitch of a lawyer,"
offered Henry.

   "I don't think that Mrs Crystal Veryon, my lawyer as well incidentally,
would be very happy with me auctioning my services to the highest bidder. I
mean, how little trust there is in the world already and you just lowered
the average by a small amount."

   A pair of legs appeared in the gangway entrance to the deck.  Low
oxfords and stockings first and then Crystal came fully into view.  Short
skirt and a windcheater jacket she was wearing the usual heavy makeup and
her hair was hidden beneath a baseball cap.

   By now Valerie had stripped off her wetsuit and stood naked, still
dripping with the water that had been trapped inside.  To Henry the tableau
was outlandish in the extreme.

   Though Steve had put the knife away he was standing watching Henry as
though he thought he would attempt some act even when he was handcuffed to
the boat.

   Just behind him was the naked Valerie looking triumphant and enjoying
living in the moment of triumph.  Her large breasts were without support
and hung long almost to her swelling belly.  Her sex was naked, naked of
clothing and naked of hair.

   Dark skin lipped the half parted opening.

   "Was this little shit trying to bribe you Valerie?" asked Crystal.  "I
mean if he offers you money that he hasn't got yet, he might just think
that he does not have to pay you when the bill comes due."

   Valerie laughed at Crystal even taking the whole idea of accepting money
from Henry seriously.

   So she teased a bit more.

   "So, Henry," she said, " We are talking about six million dollars here,
I mean if you double the three and add my costs then we are talking about
six to six and a half million."

   "Yes," said Henry who felt that he was getting somewhere.  "Seven is
fine!"

   "But that's half your fortune," came the reply.  "Are you sure?"

   "Absolutely!"

   Valerie turned to Crystal and smiled.

   "That's a lot for you to compete with, Crystal.  Are you prepared to up
the bid?"

   "No way!  We had a deal!"

   By now Valerie was creased with mirth, she couldn't hold it in any
longer and doubled up with the repressed laughter.

   "Darling Crystal!" she said between gusts of hilarity, "I would not sell
you out for the world.  What are you thinking?  But I'll tell you what! 
I'm sick of that little painted shit," Valerie pointed at Trudy, "so how
about you and me?  I mean we would make the perfect couple!"

   Crystal relaxed visibly.  The moment of stress had passed and been just
a joke so she took this new offer in good part.

   "Valerie, if I liked women I would go for it, but I'll certainly
consider it, you are looking quite ready for a little rough fuck dressed as
you are!  I'll just trust you to look after our business and I'll owe you a
favour.  Come up on deck and we'll discuss the details.  It's important
business that needs to be done privately."

   The two women went on deck and left Steve with the two captives.

   Chapter 7.

   Choices.

   ------------

   The signing took moments.

   On Valerie's cruiser the scene in the large living room was one of grim
formality.  Henry sat at the small desk with a pen in his hand while
Valerie sat, relaxed by the window, Crystal stood over Henry and pointed to
where he should sign.

   For a moment the tableau held still as Henry hesitated.  He knew that he
would sign the loan forms and then he was damned to a life without all the
things that all the millions would buy.  That flick of the pen would signal
the end of his life of gambling and enjoyment of riches.

   With Steve standing, watching every movement, there was no option.  They
had not been explicit but his failure to sign might end with him being
tipped into the water of the lagoon.

   `In the end the result was the same,' he thought.  `I am as much use
dead as alive to that bitch Crystal.  One way or another she will have her
hands on the trust fund and I will be poorer by millions of dollars.'

   So the pen flicked and he performed as he had been told.

   Crystal let out a sigh that could have been interpreted as relief, or
maybe triumph as she swept the papers up and scrutinised the signature to
see that he had not been so foolish as to not use his usual signature.

   The documents were slotted into a slim attach case ready for the bank's
attention and the case was locked into a drawer.

   "That's it than," said Valerie with a small smile.  "Henry will not
arrive in Miami for three days, giving you time to get the forms processed
and the money placed into his bank account."

   "Sort of ironic really, isn't it?" asked Crystal as she came to stand
next to her victim.  "I mean that fact that we pay Henry and that ensures
that he loses everything that should be mine anyway."

   Henry looked up at his adversary and thought, `She actually thinks that
the money is hers.  Until five years ago she had never even heard of my
aunt Maisy, now she has had the money in her care so long that it has
become her right.'

   Crystal must have noticed a slight change in his demeanour because a
frown came to her face.

   Her hand slapped his face sharply, like a mother punishing her child for
being rude.

   "Henry, from now you are just another failed bum.  Just like you always
were, but now without the means to support yourself.  Be glad that I do not
have the inclination to punish you even more for your insolence to me."

   Valerie crossed her legs and wagged a toe at Henry.  Her stilettos lay
discarded on the plush carpet of the cruiser's lounge close by her silk
cased feet.

   "I think that we can finish this little story in several ways Crystal,"
she said.  "We can just let him go and watch him being sucked down the
plughole of life.  He's pretty useless at everything really so he will be
living in a dumpster before the year is out.  I have a second idea to add
to that just in case you decide that Henry might just be a little too
credible when he goes to the police."

   Valerie reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small box and opened
it.

   "Just imagine if he arrived with some cocaine dusted into his clothes
and secreted on his person.  I think that that would take the wind out of
so many of the problems that could arise from his integrity as a witness,"
said Valerie.

   "There is of course the third way," said Crystal, "where poor Henry is
washed up on a beach in Florida, or better still in the Bahamas, with just
enough remaining to identify the remains.  How about it Henry?  Liking it
so far?  We just want to plan your future for you; we just want the best
for ourselves, after all!"

   Henry looked at Crystal and then to Valerie and then hung his head.  He
knew that they wanted to humiliate him and destroy him.  What they wanted
as well, was to make him beg and plead with them.

   It was in their power...

   Valerie laughed, "So many choices, so many variations of those wonderful
choices.  They all have risks attached to them but I really think that
between myself and my lawyer here we can bring them to such a low level
that poor little Henry will be the only sufferer."

   Crystal put her hand on Henry's head in a motherly fashion and said: "Of
course it is our duty now to provide for Henry.  I mean think of the moral
side of the equation.  We have impoverished him with our little scheme and
it would be wrong of us not to ensure that he was well provided for!"

   "What do you think?" asked Valerie of Henry.  As she spoke she picked up
one of her shoes and looked at it speculatively as if trying to resolve
some thought that had occurred to her.  "Tell us which choice you would
make if you were us!  You could be on the streets of Miami in four days, or
perhaps with the police as you try to explain all the drugs that you are
carrying as a mule.  On the other hand the sharks need feeding and you
would make good bait for fishing.  Then there is the other option, we could
care for you, specifically Crystal!"

   Henry saw that he could not escape giving an answer.  He looked up at
Steve who seemed ready to cut his throat at any moment and toss him
overboard.

   "Please, Mrs Veryon," he said as he addressed the lawyer that had robbed
him of his patrimony.  "Please, would you provide for me?"

   Crystal felt a thrill of authority tingle her skin, it clenched her
insides like a fist and made her feel like a divinity who was dispensing
divine justice.  Now she could exercise that power and make him beg, the
little shit.

   "Henry, of course, if that is your choice.  I really feel that I could
look after your future, that is if you show proper respect for Valerie and
myself."

   For a moment he looked up at her face and saw her smiling at him.  Not a
pleasant smile, more like a victorious, self satisfied grin.  He wondered
what she meant by `respect' and then Trudy entered his thoughts.  Was that
what they wanted, these two evil bitches?

   He slid of the chair and placed his lips on her smooth red shoes and
kissed the feet of the woman who was his betrayer.  Then he made his way
across to Valerie on all fours and submitted to that lesbian virago by
putting her stockinged toes in between his lips.

   "Very good, Henry!  You are learning an incredibly important lesson
well. The lesson is the meaning of the word `place'," said Valerie, "just
mind the stockings, they are worth more than you to me and they ladder so
easily!"

   Chapter 8.

   Delivery.

   -------------

   Three days.

   That was how long that Henry spent chained to his bed waiting for the
next phase of his life to resolve.  The boats had parted, sending Crystal
on her way to Miami to sort out the details of the loan and the effect that
it would have on Henry's trust fund.

   Crystal visited the bank and got a trusted and blackmailed employee of
the bank to backdate the loan application and the payment of the few
thousand into Henry's account.  That sorted out the first part, the second
was the investigation that was carried out under the terms of the will that
showed that Henry had borrowed money to play in the casino in the Bahamas.
That small loan sum was lost in amongst his losings and became part of the
story that was being spun from truth and fiction, lies and reality.

   A web that could be, should be and would be the whole truth as the law
understood it.

   Her so called investigation was processed and presented to the probate
court of Kendell Miami, where there was no contestation of the infringement
of the terms and the probate was closed and sealed.  The court date had
been set two weeks before as Henry had been in the casino winning and
losing a fortune at the craps tables!

   Mrs Crystal Veryon became the sole administrator of the trust fund,
administrator and soon to be sole benefactor as she would spend the money
on expenses and other administrative fees.

   The cabin was so small and the bars on the cot were raised and locked to
make the cage that had always been there, a pen for a human cargo that
would find its way to his new owner.

   To the anguish of Henry, Trudy, in the cabin two doors down was treated
to the wrath of her lover and owner.  Every night he heard the cries that
echoed around the hull as Valerie took it on herself to teach her that her
special duties as a lover were to be taken seriously.

   It seemed to Valerie that the best way to achieve this way would be a
three day punishment that would end when Trudy was sent back to Long
Island.

   Unwilling to damage the tattoo that adorned her fuck slut, Valerie mixed
psychological torment with the physical as she discussed what would be done
to ensure that Trudy would never betray a mistress or master again.  How
she would be sold to a new owner who would ruthlessly exploit her and
destroy her for the sheer pleasure of asserting brutal authority.

   The middle aged woman let her mask slip.

   Formerly she had behaved as if Trudy really was her younger lover,
really loved her and was devoted from warmth and affection.  The tools of
this new assault were those from the box under the bed.

   Implements intended for pleasure were used to cause pain and distress as
the stricken Trudy's screams echoed around the boat night after night.

   Now she had decided that Trudy would never make the grade as a lover and
she had determined to sell her and find a new partner, perhaps one that was
fully susceptible and like an empty vessel waiting for her mind to be
filled by her mistress.

   That was the problem for Valerie.  She wanted her slaves to be in public
view not hidden in some dungeon.  She wanted just one faithful, beautiful
young woman to serve her every wish without question, but still be a
delicious morsel to show to outside view.  She was sure that she would find
what she was looking for.

   It would just cost...

   So, at last the cutter, the Phoenix, slipped into Fort Pierce, just one
of many pleasure craft that cruised under the watchful eyes of the United
States coastguard.  At midday the craft nosed into the Fort Inlet and moved
at a steady walking pace to her private quay on Indian River Drive.  A quay
where unloading could take place privately at night without being
overlooked by either neighbours or the authorities.

   Steve dragged both of the unwilling captives the sort distance to the
house and ensured that they were securely ensconced in the cellars of the
spread out villa.

   Gagged and fettered he carried them almost bodily to their new lives.

   Chapter 9.

   Crystal.

   ------------

   The last three months had been a frantic experience for Mrs Crystal
Veryon.  Normally she was slow and thorough in her work, but the excitement
of subverting the trust fund had absorbed her as she invested and plundered
the money that had no attendant but her.

   Crystal had paid her fees to Valerie in a businesslike fashion as
investments and bonds that would mature to be realised as cash.  As she had
more contact with Valerie she joined that club of secretive people who
revelled in absolute control over the lives and bodies of their victims.

   She paid two visits to New York which introduced her to the shadowy
society of women and men who needed more than just paid service.  It was a
heady experience finding this new woman inside herself.  Crystal had always
been a strong person who was not afraid to indulge herself as she willed.
Since the death of her husband she had built her business to a little
empire that she controlled with obsessive detail.

   Boyfriends, she had had a few, but she always obsessed over them.  The
control that she needed to assert found them leaving Crystal, normally in a
few short weeks.  She needed the sex, she needed the physical release, in
fact she was ravenous, but she was an island that was surrounded by reefs
that resisted attachment.  Her last relationship had ended when her
boyfriend had told her that she was too demanding, too unreasonable and
more like a mother and dominatrix than a partner.

   So, there was the constant thought of that day when she would assume
responsibility for the former owner of that pile of money.  That delicious
moment when Henry had kissed her shoes did not fade as she thought that it
would, it lingered in her thoughts and dreams and every day brought the day
of his return closer.

   This was what she needed.  Total control over her lover.  She would be
able decide everything.  She would be able to experiment without her
partner being able to refuse.  She would be able to allow her mood to
dictate his experience.

   Her being stressed at work would result in his punishment.

   Her triumphs would be heightened by his subjugation.

   The best of it was, she decided, that Henry was a person who she had
personally reduced to a chattel.  Always resented for the block that he
represented on her ambitions he would be the perfect adornment for her idea
of servile intimacy.

   Chapter 10.

   Crystal Hell.

   -----------------

   In her new house in Kendell she paced like a tiger in a cage.  Henry had
at last been delivered to her clutches and was chained in the cellar.  He
had not seen his new mistress yet, that pleasure lay before him.

   Crystal had planned this moment for all of the last three months but now
she was uncertain what would happen when the mistress and her property
would meet.  In the end she decided to take it as it came, after all this
was not just one night of her passion it was the start of a lifetime's
pleasure and gratification, for her.

   So she took a crop from the selection that she had bought for this
moment and let herself into the stairwell to the cellar through the
concealed door in the kitchen.

   Her heels clicked as she made her way to the underworld that she had
spent a fortune creating.  This was her space, the play area that her
victim would never leave.  Crystal could live her public life without
anyone ever being aware of this cave of depravity where she became the
goddess of pain and pleasure.

   Fifteen steep steps took her into the small room that served as the
entrance to hell.  Another concealed door took her into a corridor that was
lined with doors that were coloured according to the purpose that was
concealed behind the bars and steel.

   Her evil purposes.

   Red for the days when her mood was one where Henry would pay for
delaying her becoming wealthy by years.  Those would be the days when he
would suffer at her hands, feet and cunt.  The days when she would take out
her ire on his body.

   White was for experimentation and training.  The satisfaction of that
brutal curiosity that she occasionally craved.  Henry would come to know
that a day or more in the white room would disfigure his mind with her
training.  He would be attacked by images, sounds and light that would
remake him gradually in the image that Crystal desired.

   The green door led to a bedroom with no windows.  A place where Crystal
could indulge her fantasies of love and affection.  A bed with fetters for
her helpless lover and soft mattress for her body.  Stocks and chains for
him and pillows of Eiderdown for her.  A playroom where the games were ones
that she would only ever win.

   Now at last her gloved hand was on the handle of the black door.  The
room where Henry had been placed to await her attention in utter darkness
and fear.

   The handle opened to reveal a room tiled in black that was barely three
feet deep.  The room was still locked because a barred gate closed the
entrance, a barred gate of which only the bottom two feet opened so that
the slave leaving the room had to crawl on his knees to exit.

   Crystal looked down on the naked figure of her victim and smiled.  Once
again she could feel the rising tide of that feeling that had possessed her
as Henry had kissed her shoe.  Now that there were no other witnesses she
could take untrammelled advantage of his service.

   As she had requested and paid for, every hair on his body had been
removed.  He looked up at her, allowing her to see a face that was a
container for his fear of her.  Strangely smooth with no eyebrows, that
face, it no longer entirely resembled the young man that she had known. 
This one was her creation with metal rings that pierced him and a collar
that ensured control with electronic surety.

   Her foot passed through the cage to allow her to relive that moment.

   His lips placed a kiss on the point of the shoe and Crystal realised
that she could experience again this moment every day.  She bent into a
crouch to smile at him through the bars.

   "It's good to see you again, Henry," she said as her hand slid over the
smooth skin of his head.  "I will look after you so well, I promise.  Soon
you will learn that I am not only strict, but that I will sometimes punish
you even when you are perfect.  I have everything prepared for our first
trip into my fantasies, are you ready?"

   Chapter 10.

   Green Room.

   --------------------

   She opened the cage door with the remote control and allowed Henry to
crawl from the tiny cell.  Without casting a look behind her she opened the
door to the green room and ushered him in with an expansive gesture as
though she were the servant and he was the master.

   "On the bed, lover," she ordered.

   Henry did not reply because the power of speech had been taken from him
in that terrible place near New York.  He moved his lips for a moment as
though he was able to reply, but Crystal had mandated a silent lover, her
wish had been fulfilled at a little extra cost.

   She would whisper sweet nothings while she fucked him but he would bear
it all in silence as she wished.  `What more apposite way of ensuring that
he could not complain or disturb her while she enjoyed him than to deprive
him of speech,' she thought.  `If only I had the power to make all those
objectionable men dumb at will!'

   His form lay on the bed awaiting her instructions, her orders.  So she
fixed those arms and legs and started to undress.  Carefully she stripped
down to stockings and bra noting with approval that Henry was responding
well with a huge erection that sprang from his smooth groin to point at the
ceiling as it awaited attention.

   As she parted company from her lacy knickers she realised that she was
so wet with the pent up excitement that drips of lubrication were dribbling
down her thighs.  Crystal almost kicked off her shoes before she remembered
that this was not a lover who would object to her scoring his thighs with
her metal heels.

   "Are you ready, lover?" she asked of the silent prick with a young man's
body.

   Henry nodded as though giving a nod that was really superfluous, was
consent to the rape that was to follow.

   She climbed over the chains that held her lover until her avid cunt was
poised to take him in.  Just a small movement and he would be hers, just an
opening of thighs and he would be in her.

   "When we have finished here we will taste the red room and you will pay
a day's visit to the white room.  I promised that you would be looked after
and you will have all of my attention as I educate you and then rebuild
you."

   As she spoke her thighs opened, her heels dug into his thighs and her
pussy slipped onto that cock, that upright tower that slipped into her
sheath like a finger through warm butter.

   Crystal gasped as he went to the hilt, it filled her and stretched her
to what she felt was her limit.  It pushed into her so deeply and
penetrated to her limit.  Her hand slipped to her clitoris as she enjoyed
the first lover since her husband who had truly submitted to her will.

   The lovemaking in the green room lasted just over an hour.  Lovemaking
was what Crystal thought of it as; actually she was enjoying raping him,
taking without consent.

   Crystal felt that Henry had acquitted himself well as he had fucked to
her orders, reaming her cunt without climaxing himself.  He had given and
given with prick and lips without spilling his come.  Finally he had kissed
her shoes again, the ones that had grazed his thighs as he had performed as
he had been trained to do.

   Chapter 11.  Red Room.

   ---------------

   The slave was presented on the whipping horse, ready for his punishment.
Chastisement for no noticeable offence, penalty with no misdemeanour having
been committed.

   Henry's only crime was that he was Crystal's to do with as she wished.

   Crystal looked over the weapons at her disposal and showed them one by
one to her victim.  Finally she noticed a tear form in his eye and run down
his cheek to slither silently down his smooth chest and into the crack that
was formed by the skin of his thighs and hanging balls.

   She decided that he had chosen the vicious crop and bent to kiss the
back of his neck.

   "This is for your own good," she told him.  "I expect perfect service,
anticipation of my needs and all done in good grace without hesitation.  Do
you understand?  I have so much to teach you and I will be so happy when at
last you can become the perfect slave, the fuck doll that I need for my
ravenous cunt."

   She stepped back and placed a light blow across the base of his ass,
just an opening shot over the bows.  She noted that his prick stood out as
it had for an hour now so she went to grip it in her hand and gave him
three strokes.

   "Every stroke of the cane earns you three strokes of my hand.  If you
come before I allow you to you will regret it."

   Once more she pulled a stroke from the air and placed it just above the
last one.  Her hand closed on him and pulled at that huge cock thrice,
firmly.

   And so it went until Crystal had placed nine strokes and given him
twenty seven with her hand.  She went to his ear and whispered.

   "Do you want to come, lover?"

   He stayed stock still and made no move.

   "Very good!  You have learned the first lesson well.  Never ask, request
or even beg for release.  That is under my control.  I decide and I do not
need or wish for your input!"

   Her hand strayed between his legs and stated to wank him.

   "You will come when I tell you to and no other time, If you can manage
this little thing to please me then I will reward you."

   All the while her hand moved up and down, bumping his balls and pulling
him, stretching, gripping and controlling.

   Her other hand moved over the supple and soft skin under his balls,
seeking that spot where a little pressure closes all chance of ejaculation.


   When she found it she pressed upward and ordered him to climax.

   Henry pushed against the frame that held him at forty-five degrees and
allowed himself to fall over the edge of that cliff into the unknown.  It
was so much better here than at the Farm where he had been sent by his new
owner.  The whipping had been terrible when a real infraction of the rules
had been committed.  The control that they had taught him allowed him to
fulfil her wishes and he came in a rush.

   Nothing exited the single closed eye of his prick.  No drop of milky
white left his body as she blocked its path.

   `This was pure pleasure,' she thought as she watched his puzzled face.
Even when she allowed him to climax she could ruin the orgasm and increase
the level of his frustration at will.

   As she found her feet she could invent a dozen new torments and find the
limits of mishandling that he could cope with.  Crystal would drive those
limits up and up as she learned their limits.

   Chapter 12.  White Room.

   ------------------

   The white room; a bathroom was the place where she could wash his body
as well as his mind.  Crystal chained his wrist rings to the steel loop on
the wall and then slid it up with a touch of the remote to hang him from
his wrists, just resting on the tips of his toes.

   She left him there, hanging as the films started to roll.

   With a clang the door closed and Henry was alone with in the shadowless
room that would now claim him for hours.

   Sound and light would bombard him mercilessly.

   In a week or two Crystal would have the first film of Henry ready to be
shown and he would have to suffer his former treatment as a pornographic
overload.  She would create films that hopped and skipped as they showed
him being degraded until his mind was filled and overwhelmed by those
thoughts.

   The sound would go up and down in volume.  It would not always be
synchronised, the show would go on, and on, and on...

   Chapter 13.

   The Pleasure.

   -------------------

   All the while she would be in bed asleep after a long sensuous bath and
a slow self pleasing as she imagined his suffering.  Her hand ploughing
herself with slow sensuous movements as she contemplated all that suffering
that was so agreeable, so pleasing and such a release from a long days
work. Then at last she would turn over and go to sleep.

   Sometimes on her own bed sometimes in the green room with her helpless
Henry by her side.  Then when she slept she would dream and cast her arm
over his bound and silent form as if he was her lover and she needed the
comfort of his presence.

   Her days would be spent working and improving her tennis.  She would
store up the stresses and trials of the days spent in the office meetings
and courts of Miami and then return to vent them on that fuck doll that she
kept in the cellar.

   It was the love life that she had always wanted.  A young man at her
beck and call, ready to serve her as she willed and always available even
if not always willing.

   So, whilst Mrs Crystal Veryon improved her tennis, went to parties and
amazed everyone with her wit and charm, the white room scratched Henrys
brain.  Its bent needle scored his mind like a damaged long player record
until he forgot his name and past.

   He just had one purpose left.  One goal and one need.  He had to serve
his goddess of pain and pleasure.

   Her pleasure.

   That her pleasure might not be worth it never crossed Mrs Crystal
Veryon's mind.

   She was worth it!

   The End.

   ------------------------------------------------------

   The End.  y Copyright Miss Irene Clearmont 2011(Oct)

   More of Miss Irene Clearmont's WWW writing can be found at:
http://www.missireneclearmont.com
   contact me at: Irene@missireneclearmont.com Most E Mails get a reply.  
