“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 butt 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. “God…”
“Too much?” Mike asked.
“No, it was… so humiliating,” Pam said, nearly crying. “And it felt so good! 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, really normal; 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 sex, really mind-blowing sex. 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… slut. I got used and abused and I really liked it.”
“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 sex, 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 pass 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 passed through the lounge. He was tired, from both the exercise and the day, and it was going to be a long night. He couldn’t really assume 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 pass 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 pass 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.
“God,” 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.