Her downfall was complete, she thought, as the hysterical core of her mind was gradually haloed by a desperate lucidity. Not only had she been the victim of some unGodly metamorphosis aboard the Vera, from saint to sinner, but that transition had been recorded and filed on film, to be used… how? Again, Lynn could not escape the only possible conclusion: Hans was going to show those pictures to her husband, Mark. And what would Mark do? Lynn shuddered. What would any man do if he saw his wife willingly sucking another man's cock?
There was only one way out of her predicament, Lynn knew. She had to get those pictures from Hans at whatever cost; and to destroy them. She stood up, flexing the pain out of her shin, and walked with surprising determination to the forward companionway, which led down into the darkness of the main cabin below. She was less frightened now, her hysteria cooled by sobering necessity. Unhesitatingly, she lowered her small, luscious body into the darkness below.
Hans had just finished unloading his camera, when he heard her knocking with surprising force on the door of his cabin. Sooner than I thought, he said to himself, an evil grin spreading across his face. He rose, walked over to the door, but had to step back as Lynn threw it open, and stepped into the cabin. Her small, delicious breasts were heaving up and down from the intensity of her emotions, and she was clearly unaware that she stood in front of her tormentor clad only in the half-open robe she'd been wearing upstairs.
"Good evening, Mrs. Shaffer, Ma'am," Hans said mockingly. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Lynn hesitated, intimidated by the tone of his voice. Her confusion and fear returned to her, constricting her throat to the extent that she could only manage an affirmative nod. She pulled her flimsy robe over her lusciously inviting body, but knew she couldn't hide its voluptuous curves and hidden recesses from the piercing eye of the sailor's imagination.
"Well now," Hans said, reveling in the discomfort his look caused her as it stripped the unsubstantial piece of terrycloth from her quivering body, "speak up. Don't tell me I have to stand here and guess?"
Gathering the robe even closer to her, Lynn managed to force a whisper from her paralyzed throat.
"That camera…"
"You'll have to speak up, baby. I'm a little hard of hearing." Hans was having a great time.
"You had a camera…" Lynn's voice could scarcely be heard, and it trailed off into silence.
Hans paused, and then went back to sit on the edge of his bunk.
"Yes, I did. As a matter of fact, I did," he grinned. "I was just trying to get some shots of the sun rising. Didn't get any though. Got up on deck a little too early. Too bad. Had to settle for just a few scenic shots… you know, waves and birds, and that kind of thing?"
"You mean you didn't… I mean… did you…?" Lynn faltered, confused, almost half-believing his little joke. Her hope was short-lived.
"… get a few shots of you? Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. Only I couldn't see you too well, 'cause Harry's knee seemed to keep getting in the way. Still, I think you'll like 'em. They really make a statement. Very exciting photographs – I, for one, really think they ought to be published."
Lynn's blood turned to ice as her suspicions were proven true, and her voice assumed an abjectly pleading tone.
"Hans, please, you've got to give me those pictures… please."
"Give 'em to you. What do you mean? If we sell 'em, to the right people that is, we'll both make a lot of money, don't you see? These pictures could be very profitable for both of us."
"Stop it!" Lynn screamed, unable to take any more of his cuteness, "Stop playing with me! I've got to have those pictures!"
Hans' face suddenly hardened, and a fire slowly began to kindle itself in his eyes.
"All right, baby, I'll give you the pictures…"
Lynn couldn't believe her ears. She started to say something, but he stopped her.
"… but you can't expect me to give up my share in the profit we were going to make off 'em, can you now?"
"But, I can't…" Lynn stuttered, "I don't have any money."
"I'm not talking about money, baby," he retorted, "money will come later. What I'm talking about is something a little different."
Lynn gasped as she read his meaning in the lust-excited pupils of his cruel eyes. Ah God, she thought to herself, he can't mean… I can't. Not again. Her thoughts forced themselves into her throat, and she heard herself saying, "No… I won't… you can't do this…"
"But I can baby," Hans sneered, "Don't you realize I can do anything I want with you now? All I've got to do is show these pictures to Mark Shaffer, and you've lost yourself a husband."
"No, Mark wouldn't… he would understand. He could never believe that I would…"
"Not even with the evidence right in front of him?" the sadistic sailor interrupted.
"No… never… he wouldn't…"
"All right, honey, then try this one on for size." Hans stood up, and walked over to her. "I understand your husband and Harry Johnson have a little business deal cooking, that right? Never mind answering, I know it's right. Well, let me ask you a question. What if I went to Harry Johnson, and said I wanted some money for these pictures?" Hans smiled as Lynn turned her delicate body away from his, and saw that she did not follow what he was saying. "Let me put it this way. There are two people in those pictures, baby, not just you. Well suppose I went to that other person, Harry Johnson, and said that you, and me, and your little husband had all decided we needed a little money. And then, suppose I told him we had decided to work together." Hans smiled sadistically as Lynn turned slowly to him, her face tortured by the sudden realization of what he was saying. "And then suppose I told him we decided to plant you between his legs, so we could take some nice little pictures of the two of you together."
"No!" Lynn screamed. "You couldn't! You wouldn't!"
"Yes, baby I could and I would." Hans' voice hardened again, and he reached out and spun Lynn's frail body into his powerful manliness. Grasping her shoulders with his huge hands, he lifted her almost off the floor, and held her close to his vicious, twisted face. "You are my property now, baby, and I can do anything I want to with you. 'Cause if you don't go along with everything I say, I will show those pictures to Johnson, and say you were in on it, and then you can kiss that little business deal good-bye!"
Lynn's mind rebelled hopelessly at what he was saying, but she knew he was right. He held an absolute control over her now, and there was absolutely nothing she could to about it. She went limp in his arms knowing that she was totally defeated, knowing that her shame was complete, and that from this moment on she would be living in a hell governed by the mad, sex-crazed sailor who held her so close. Her head dropped, and she did not even offer the slightest resistance as Hans Piemmel lifted her easily from the floor and deposited her in the same bunk where he had taken her so cruelly the first time.
She didn't protest as he peeled the robe from her impassive shoulders, but stared with glazed eyes at the ceiling above her head, knowing that whatever might come, there was no use fighting it. She had lost all her weapons the minute Hans' camera had caught her performing fellatio on Harry Johnson, and she lay defenseless now before the impending assault by the sadistic captain of the Vera. This was her last chance, she vaguely thought, and perhaps she could plead with him now. Maybe he would understand. She looked away, staring out the porthole into the coming morning, and realized that this was a futile hope. Nothing could stop the brutal seaman from exploiting her now. Then, suddenly, his lips pressed tightly against the naked flesh of her belly, causing her to squirm and almost faint with shocked surprise.