They didn’t sleep together, at Mike’s insistence, while they got ready for the trip. And they didn’t spend all their time on land; he took them out after sailfish, unsuccessfully, the next morning.
The birth certificates arrived, as did several large boxes from “Fourth Level Equipment Company.” Mike stored those in the “Bluebeard” room.
Finally, everything was prepared and they cast off as the sun was setting over the Key, making their way out through the channel with Pam at the wheel and Mike taking control when the going got particularly tricky. He’d asked Courtney to prep some chicken and vegetables while they were headed out.
As soon as they were beyond the last reefs and well away from land, Mike checked the radar and set the autosteer for the Bahamas with the boat moving just fast enough to get it up on plane.
“Okay,” he said, joining the girls in the lounge. “First, I cook dinner.”
“You said you can cook,” Courtney said, waving at the chunked-up chicken breasts. “But so far it’s all talk.”
“O, ye of little faith,” Mike said.
He made chicken paprikash — chicken in paprika and sour cream sauce — and fettuccine Alfredo with fresh parmesan, asparagus on the side. It was a bit of hit.
“God,” Courtney said, sitting down to the table. “I take it back. You can cook. Marry me!”
“No,” Mike said seriously. “Look, there are reasons, okay? But I won’t, can’t, get into them. But we can have a very good time together and then… part as friends, okay? It’s important to me that you understand. We can’t be more than friends and, maybe, occasional lovers. If we can’t work on that basis, we need to just… go have fun in the islands and forget all the rest.”
“I can, Mike,” Courtney said, shrugging. “I think… I think I’ll always remember you. Heck, I know I will. But…” She shrugged again.
“Pam, are you going to be okay with that?” Mike asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
“Let’s talk a bit about what we’re trying to accomplish here,” Mike said. “Like I explained before, when a person gets fully into submission, it’s basically a transcendental state. But some things will push you right out of scene or, sometimes, they’ll push you to an even higher level.”
“Example?” Pam asked, rolling up a string of fettuccine.
“You said you didn’t like anal sex?” Mike asked.
“Not a lot,” Pam said. “It’s…”
“Icky or humiliating or both?” Mike asked.
“Both,” Pam said carefully, then wriggled.
“But the humiliation aspect actually has some attraction from the point of view of submission, right?” Mike asked.
“Yes,” Pam admitted. “But it also hurts.” Then she thought about it and wriggled again.
“Do you want Courtney to be forced to see you taken?” Mike asked.
“God,” Pam said nervously. “I’m not sure. It’s… sort of exciting. I think.”
“Courtney,” Mike said. “Tell me what you think is absolutely not permissible.”
“I don’t want to be whipped,” Courtney said. “And… there’s all that stuff with scat and golden showers. Don’t go there. I don’t want anal sex or for you to cum in my mouth. I don’t like the taste.”
“How about being fitted with a butt plug?” Mike asked.
“Uh…” She paused and thought about that. “Maybe.”
“Exciting?” Mike asked. “Humiliating? Both?”
“Both,” she admitted.
“I will tell you, both, that there will be dual scenes,” Mike said. “Where one of you will be toyed with and the other forced to watch. You will be forced to touch each other, to play with tits at least, and to kiss in places, possibly on the lips but I’ll have to read that. For one thing, with two of you, I can’t do it all myself.”
“I can… live with that,” Courtney said.
“I’m planning on setting up a scene which will be longer than normal,” Mike said. “We have nothing but time. I’m thinking that it will go for a day at least, maybe a couple of days, with you in continuous submission. I’ll try to make sure I read you right, and I’ll call time-outs from time to time to check on your state. If you feel that it’s pushing your limits, edge play, beyond where you want to go, simply call yellow. If you’re gagged, then grunt and I’ll remove the gag. Especially do so if you feel panicked or trapped. I will be in complete control, but you can be free at any time and the play will end if you wish it. I don’t want to drive you away from your current interest by pushing you too hard and too fast. But… the scene will be intense. Can you handle that?”
“I hope so,” Pam said. “I’m getting squirmy just thinking about it.”
“Well, let’s wash up,” Mike said, glancing at the radar and blinking. “Pam, could you go up forward and see if there are any ships out there? There’s an odd blip on the radar.”
“Sure,” she said, walking up to the bridge as Mike and Courtney cleared the dishes.
As soon as she was up on deck, Mike picked up the knife he had been doing the dishes with and clamped his hand over her mouth.
“One sound,” he said, keeping the knife well clear of her throat, “and I’ll cut your throat and throw you to the sharks.”
He dragged her, panting, into her cabin and pulled out a pair of handcuffs he’d slipped under her pillow. He used those to secure her and used her pillowcase to gag her.
“I’ll come get you as soon as I grab the other idiot who thought she was safe,” he said, walking out.
“Where’s Courtney?” Pam asked when she came back in. “And when are we going to start,” she added, smiling.
“We already did,” Mike said, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm up behind her back then clamping his hand over her mouth. “Now I’m going to go explain the facts of life to you.”
He dragged her into Courtney’s cabin and cuffed her on the floor, gagging her with another pillowcase. Then he went and got the serious gear.
He carefully put a collar on Courtney’s neck, locking it in place, then wrist and ankle restraints, using snap-locks to hold them together and taking off the handcuffs without permitting her any chance to escape. Last he replaced the pillowcase with a ring gag that kept her mouth open in an O but made it impossible to speak. It did, however, give access to the mouth, and he stuck his finger and ran it around, laughing at her.
“You two are so gullible,” Mike said. “And so, I might add, are your parents. Bunch of bondage freaks. I’m not a bondage freak, I’m a damned slaver. Two pretty bitches like you are going to make me a bunch of money.”
“Aaaah ooooh,” Courtney groaned. “Aaah.”
“But you have to be well trained,” he said as he secured the last lock on Pam. She’d struggled to get away when he explained what was going to happen, but it hadn’t mattered. “And I’m going to train you. But first you’re going to be stripped. You won’t need clothes anymore on this trip. Oh, and we’re not going to the Bahamas, we’re going to Morocco. Good slave market in Morocco. I should get, oh, thirty grand for you as a pair. They like pairs in Morocco, so much sweeter.” He paused and pulled Pam’s gag out. “Time out, Pam, you okay?”
“I am now!” Pam said. “God! I thought you were serious!”