I was to be strapped naked to the revolving “live” plate. My body would be five to six inches below the smaller plate to which the bomb was attached. I would be safe until I got an erection. If and when I did-—-and the hopeful doubt was mine, not Mayday’s -—I would blow both myself and the Lascivia sky-high.
By that time, according to plan, the three saboteurs would be long gone. The ship was due to drop anchor at Colombo shortly before dawn. Except for those on duty, the crew as well as the passengers would be asleep. Mayday had staked out the lookout he intended to sandbag, and stashed an inflatable rubber life raft for himself and Zelda Poppins to row ashore. Magda would follow later.
At about nine a.m., the passengers would start going ashore. By eleven most of them would be gone. Magda, having performed certain necessary last-minute tasks, would leave on the last boat. When she reached shore, Captain Maldemerde would be notified by radiophone that there was a bomb on board the Lascivia which was set to explode imminently. Mayday figured -- and I saw no reason not to agree -- that the Captain and crew would desert the vessel posthaste. Following which I was supposed to set off the bomb and blow the ship clear out of the harbor!
The night before we reached the Ceylonese port, Mayday ran a test to be sure his plan would work. I was stripped and secured by my wrists, ankles and neck to the large, horizontal, revolving plate. In this position, the “ground” plate to which the bomb was attached was centered directly over my groin.
“Arouse him!” Mayday ordered Magda.
Her long, blue-black hair swirled around her face as she undulated over and stood above me. She was wearing a miniskirt and a see-through blouse. Visible under the blouse, peeping through the tendrils of long hair trailing over her bosom, was a half-dollar sized, blood-red aureole. From its center a long, tapered, rigid nipple protruded brazenly. It was the nose cone of the Breast—or, possibly, its mate. Magda brushed aside the wisps of hair and fingered the nipple through the material of the see-through blouse. It twitched, deep purple between her pink fingertips.
“Won’t the bomb go off?” Zelda Poppins was worried.
“I’ll deflect him before he can make contact,” Mayday assured her. “I just want to make sure the positioning is right.”
Magda unbuttoned her blouse. The Breast came into full view. She bent over me. The long, purple nipple vibrated rhythmically under my nose. It stayed there, tantalizing, as she kept pace with the slowly revolving disc to which I was bound. I tried to bite it, but with my neck pinned down the way it was, I couldn’t reach it.
She danced away, laughing. “Naughty,” she cooed. “That’s a no-no.”
Out of reach, she continued to play with the Breast, squeezing it, caressing it, gauging the effect on me. I tried to concentrate on staying unaffected. She stood back and twirled so that her miniskirt flared above her hips. She wasn’t wearing any panties under it. I tried harder to concentrate on staying unaffected. She turned her back to me and saucily flipped the miniskirt up in the air. The Derriere—that truly fabulous fanny! —plump, wriggling, erotically flushed, appeared. I tried harder than ever to concentrate on staying unaffected.
“He’s a slow turn-on, isn’t he?” Zelda Poppins observed.
“I guess I’ll just have to speed him up.” Magda stood over me and trailed her hands up my naked thighs.
“No.” Mayday stopped her. “Don’t touch him. I want to gauge his reaction to purely visual stimulation.”
“All right.” Magda shrugged and retreated slightly. She cupped the Breast and raised it to her lips. Her sharp red tongue appeared and dueled with the nipple. Then she caught it between her lips, wide pink aureole and all. She sucked it until the pinkness had darkened almost to the purple shade of the nipple. The nipple itself now extended a full three-quarters of an inch.
Her hands dropped to her quivering thighs. Her eyes were closed now, and her breath was coming in gasps. Slowly her fingertips trailed up her thighs. She paused to capture the hem of her short skirt and tuck it into her waistband. Then she stroked the soft black curls over her high, well-rounded Mound of Venus. Her straining clitty appeared in the cleft there and she strummed it with her pinky.
Magda opened her eyes and looked at me boldly. Using both hands, she gently separated the lips at the entrance to her tunnel of love. They were flushed and damp. Rubbing her thighs together, she opened and closed the lips repeatedly so that the entire area seemed to circle sensually around the aroused clitoris.
I was fighting off my reaction, but it was a losing battle. Desire was filling me; tumescence was imminent. I did the only thing I could do to stave it off. I closed my eyes.
“The sonofabitch isn’t looking!” Magda exclaimed, miffed at my means of turning off her performance.
“We’ll fix that.” Mayday came up with a roll of black tape. He tore off two small pieces and pasted my eyelids back so I couldn’t close them. “No way your audience can shut you out now,” he told Magda.
The Breast swayed teasingly before my eyes. The Derriere rippled invitingly. Magda’s hand dipped deep inside her and her clitty moved jerkily back and forth as her passion mounted. Her tongue moved in and out repeatedly. Her whole body started to tremble now. The trembling grew to a hard, spasmodic shaking. ‘Tm coming!” she moaned. “I’m coming!”
It was too much for me. My penis rose uncontrollably. It was like a lightning rod being raised to draw the crackling electricity which would strike it down.
Mayday moved in the nick of time. He stuck his hand with the rubber glove on it between the deadly “ground” plate and the tip of my erection. “That’s enough,” he told Magda.
It took her a minute before she was able to stop. Finally she did. She walked away from me, out of view. Slowly, my erection subsided.
They left me where I was, revolving, through the rest of that night. Toward morning, I heard the clanking of the anchor chain being released. Awhile after that, Mayday and Zelda Poppins departed. Magda stayed.
For the next few hours, she amused herself by teasing me. Naked and spreadeagled, I had no defense. She would deliberately arouse me, and then as soon as I showed signs of reacting tumescently, she would slap me hard until I was reduced to flaccidity again.
I guessed that it must be getting close to eleven a.m. when she stopped playing that game. She walked outside my range of vision and started to fiddle with some kind of equipment there. After a little while a white light beam appeared on the ceiling directly over my head. The focus sharpened and it formed a rectangle with rounded corners. Aside from a slight flickering, it played steadily on the ceiling.
Magda came over to me. She adjusted the strap holding my neck so that my eyes were forced to focus on the rectangle of light above me. She put fresh tape on my eyelids to insure my being unable to close them.
Then the murderous bitch kissed me on the lips. She plunged her tongue deep into my mouth and reached down to tickle my scrotum. When my organ started to rise, she laughed viciously, slapped it down one last time, and left.
“Bon Voyage!” I called after her bitterly.
“Enjoy the show,” she called back. And then Magda was gone.