Shameful Reckonings (16 page)

The road turned to dirt and gravel, but the limo’s ride remained smooth.

“Your friend seems to live rather a long way from town,” Amanda observed.

“It seems like quite a few people do,” Sigrid said. “There are half a dozen big houses over there.”

The road proceeded down the slope, narrowed, and wound its way between fields of sugarcane. For the moment, it was impossible to see much of anything. Then the limo emerged onto a wider paved road and turned left. Sigrid noted that they seemed to be headed for the last house in the line. She smiled. It looked like the largest of the six, and it had a high privacy wall, just like all of the other houses that she could see clearly. This far away from the town, the walls might be as much for protection as for privacy. She was certain, without looking, that the tops of the walls had broken glass set in cement along the tops, or possibly razor wire. Her suspicion was heightened by the fact that she saw no trees growing close to any of the walls.

The limo turned right and went through the open gate of the last house. Peering through the window, Sigrid saw that the ‘house’ was more like an estate. The main building was three stories high, the walls covered with pale tan stucco. The trim around the windows was white. There were smaller buildings attached to the main one. They looked like later additions, and none of them were more than two stories. The roadway had switched back to gravel. It didn’t affect the ride, but it made enough noise to be noticeable. The grounds around the house looked meticulously kept. There were flowerbeds close to the buildings and small gardens of shrubbery elsewhere. The chauffeur guided the limo around one side of the main building and through a freestanding archway. Sigrid caught a glimpse of green lawn sloping down to the beach and a tennis court off to one side. The limo began to slow. It came to a stop very near the shore.

“I can see the boat,” Amanda said. She sounded a little excited.

“It’s called a yacht, dear,” Sigrid corrected her.

“It’s practically an aircraft carrier,” Amanda retorted. “You should see.”

Sigrid restrained the urge to slide over to the other side of the limo. She would see the yacht soon enough. Then there was a man at her door, opening it for her just as another man opened Amanda’s door. Sigrid accepted his hand as she got out of the limo. He looked a little like one of the big black bouncers she’d seen at the club last night, but this man was impeccably dressed in a black suit, white shirt and red tie.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him once she was out. She turned her head, ostensibly looking for Paul Marengo, but actually anxious for a look at the yacht. She saw it moored nearby. She knew enough about boats to recognize that it was a fifty-footer, and very,
very
expensive. It was much bigger than she’d expected, and that made her a little apprehensive. Paul Marengo hadn’t seemed
that
wealthy. How many nightclubs did he own, anyway?

“Sigrid! Amanda! So good to see you!”

Sigrid turned at the sound of Paul’s voice. He was walking towards them from the main building, accompanied by another muscular black man in a black suit, white shirt and red tie. Paul himself was wearing jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. Unlike his escort, he was smiling.

“Why, hello, Paul!” Sigrid smiled back. “So good to see you also!” She looked around. “Is Hope here yet? We haven’t seen her since last night.”

“I’m afraid Ms. Welles is indisposed this morning.” Paul shook his head sadly.

“What a shame!” Sigrid managed not to smile. “We were so looking forward to seeing her.”

“It can’t be helped, I’m afraid.” Paul shrugged. “Shall we go on board? The chef will have lunch ready soon.” He held out an arm for Sigrid.

“That would be wonderful.” Sigrid smiled as she took the proffered arm. “It’s just too bad that Hope couldn’t make it.”

“Yes, it is,” Amanda spoke up. “We’ll have to look in on her when we get back.” She smiled sweetly at Sigrid.

“Ladies,” Paul offered his other arm to Amanda. “Let me show you my little boat.”

***

“Oh, this is lovely!” Sigrid exclaimed as the yacht cut its way through the calm aquamarine sea. She was lounging with her back against the stern rail. The wind flattened her sari against her breasts. She’d foregone a bra today, and she saw that Paul had taken notice.

“Lovely, indeed,” he smiled. “I am enjoying the view.”

Sigrid laughed. “So I see,” she said playfully. “How can you afford such a beautiful yacht, Mr. Marengo? You must be very successful.”

“I do well,” he shrugged. He put down his drink and came closer. He was still smiling, but the expression in his eyes had changed. “You are a very beautiful woman,” he said quietly.

“Why, thank you,” Sigrid smiled at him. She’d seen that look in his eyes before. He was about to make a move, and she had just about decided to let him. It was still too soon to go with him to his cabin, though. He’d have to come up with a present for that to happen. She noticed one of the yacht’s crew approaching and hoped that Paul had better taste than to make his move with the man right there watching.

“Take off your clothes,” Paul said.

“I beg your pardon?” Sigrid took a sideways step away from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated. “I want to see you naked.”

The crewman just stood there, watching her, muscular arms folded. He was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but he seemed to be smiling faintly.

“You must be joking,” Sigrid replied. It didn’t come out as confidently as she’d intended. Something was very wrong here… and where had Amanda gotten to?

“I am not joking,” Paul shook his head. “Do it.”

“I will not!” Sigrid snapped.

“Do you want me to do it, then?” He took a step towards her. He wasn’t smiling so much now as baring his teeth. They were very white.

Sigrid looked quickly from him to the crewman and back again. Another of the yacht’s crew came up from the cabins below. He was carrying something. He smiled at her and tossed it at her feet. The bundle fell open, and Sigrid recognized Amanda’s shorts, shirt and underwear. She felt her blood run cold.

There was no place to run, and they were so far from shore that she wasn’t sure where the nearest land was.

“Your companion was more cooperative,” Paul chuckled. Sigrid launched herself at him, intending to rake his eyes out with her nails at least before she was overpowered. But he blocked her attack with a sweep of his arm and the next thing she knew he’d grabbed her by her ponytail. He twisted and pulled and she fell heavily to the deck, face-down. Then he had his foot on her hair, holding her down, and his knee was on the small of her back. She screamed as loudly as she could. Paul only laughed.

“Scream all you like,” he told her. She felt his hands gripping her wrists and twisting her arms behind her and she screamed again.

One of the crewmen came over. She saw him hand something to Paul and then she felt something thin and hard circling her trapped wrists. She heard a zipping noise, and the thing around her wrists tightened cruelly.

“Please… please don’t, Paul,” she sobbed.

“Why not?” Paul asked, and then laughed. He took his knee from her back and his foot from her hair and she rolled onto her side and looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes. It was a useful skill to be able to cry at will. Sigrid doubted that it was going to do her any good.

“Get her up,” Paul ordered the crewmen. They grabbed her by her arms and hauled her to her feet. She tried to kick one of them in the shins, but the sari hindered her and her sandals were too fragile to do any real damage anyway. Before she could try to kick the other man, Paul stepped forward and slapped her. Hard. Her head snapped to one side and her vision blurred. She’d have fallen if the two crewmen hadn’t kept her upright. She was still trying to see straight when she felt Paul pulling at her sari. He got it off of her shoulder and yanked it down, baring her to her waist. Then his hands were mauling her breasts, fondling, squeezing and pinching. Sigrid whimpered and squirmed feebly. The slap had been hard enough to stun her, and her ears were ringing. She felt completely disoriented.

“Take her below,” she heard Paul order the crewmen. “Make her secure. I’ll be down in a moment.”

***

Sigrid writhed and twisted in the narrow bunk. She’d been stripped naked. Whatever the crewmen hadn’t been able to rip off of her they had cut away with a knife. She could still feel their hard hands on her body. Her wrists were still bound by whatever Paul had used on her. It felt like it was made of plastic. It hurt. The crewmen had tied her ankles together with rope, and then tied her legs together just above her knees. More rope circled her neck, and a length of it ran from there to the rope binding her legs so that she was sharply bent over. The compartment the bunk was in had to be somewhere in the bowels of the yacht. It had no portholes, and with the door shut it was completely dark.

The door to the compartment swung open. Paul stood there without entering for a moment, just looking at her. His smile looked smug.

“Please, Paul,” Sigrid put a tremor into her voice. “You don’t have to do this. Please untie me. It hurts.”

“Behave yourself and perhaps I will,” he replied. “You are truly a beautiful woman, you know. A lovely prize.”

Did he intend to play pirate chief and helpless captive? Sigrid had met men with similar fantasies, but she didn’t think Paul was playing at anything. He entered the compartment. It was small enough that he had to stoop. He flipped her onto her other side on the bunk, so that her back was to him. She felt his hands on her ass, on her thighs.

“I want to be the first to have you,” he told her.

“What?” Sigrid tried to turn her head to look at him, but he pulled the compartment door shut and they were plunged back into darkness. She heard a rustling noise, and then he was in the bunk with her. His hand reached over to cup her breast and squeeze it again. She felt him pressing up against her. She could tell that he was already erect. He might be ready, but she wasn’t. She tried to squirm away, but she was already almost up against the bulkhead.

“Easy… easy…” Paul breathed into her ear. “Don’t fight it. It might even be enjoyable.”

She whimpered. His hand moved from her breast to her pussy. He began fingering her. She tried to relax. She tried to let her body respond in a purely physical way. She had done it before. But she wasn’t quite wet enough when she felt his cock sliding into her. He was a big man, and physically powerful. She lay very still as he fucked her, whimpering from time to time when her abused body demanded it. What he was doing hurt, but it didn’t hurt as much as the hard, sharp-edged plastic that fettered her wrists, so it was endurable. It seemed to go on for a long, long time before she felt him shudder and heard him groan. Again, a shudder and groan, deep and rumbling. And again, and once more, and then he was done. His breath was very warm against the back of her neck. He pulled his cock out. She felt him get out of the bunk. She kept still and whimpered some more in the dark. She yelped when he slapped her ass hard.

“You will get better,” he chuckled. Then she felt a sharp sting, right where he’d slapped her the moment before. She was barely aware when he opened the door to the compartment and stepped out. He closed the door and she was back in darkness. She felt weak and dizzy, and she knew he’d injected her with something. That was the last thing she knew for a while.

Chapter Four

“She’s waking up.”

“Move faster, then.”

Sigrid heard the voices as if they were reaching her from the bottom of a deep well. Her head throbbed, her pussy was sore, her hands felt limp and lifeless. There was a faint metallic taste in her mouth. She was vaguely aware that she was in terrible danger and that she should do something about it, but her body felt as if it could only send signals of discomfort and pain. It would not respond to commands. She tried to move and could not tell if she had succeeded. She tried to scream, but all she could manage was a dry croak.

“Tighten those straps.”

She thought that she recognized Paul’s voice. She tried to look for him, but she couldn’t move her head properly and her eyes couldn’t seem to focus. As her body slowly shook off the effects of whatever Paul had injected her with, she started to realize some things. Her hands were no longer bound behind her. Now her arms were stretched wide over her head. She tried to move them, and couldn’t. Something was holding her by her wrists.

Her legs were also spread wide, and she couldn’t move them either. She seemed to be lying on her back, on something cold and very hard. With a painful effort, she managed to raise her head for a moment and look down the length of her still-naked body. She couldn’t see much and she couldn’t keep it up for more than a moment. Her neck muscles lost their strength and the back of her head thumped against the cold, hard surface. She rolled her head to the left. If she concentrated and squinted, she could just make out that her left wrist was fastened to a metal bar by a wide leather strap. Rolling her head to the right and repeating her effort, she saw that her right wrist was likewise fettered. She tried to scream again. All that came out was a louder croak.

“Okay. She’s set.” It was another one of those unfamiliar voices from the well.

“Good. Raise her up now.” It was Paul’s voice. Then Sigrid heard a strange metallic clacking noise. It stopped. It started again, and she felt her arms being lifted a little way off of the floor. There was another pause, then more clacking, and her arms were lifted higher. She tried to move again, and managed to flex her knees. Her spread legs seemed to be tied to something heavy. She blearily realized that she’d put herself into the position of a woman waiting to receive her lover. With an effort, she pushed her legs flat again.

Every time she heard the clacking noise she felt her arms being lifted higher. She tried to see where that noise was coming from, but her head still felt too heavy for her neck. Eventually, her arms were lifted so high off of the floor that her head hung back at an angle. The lifting continued. Now she could feel her ass being dragged slowly across the floor. She shivered violently. The clicking and the lifting continued. Her arms were taking more and more of her weight as she was raised higher off of the floor. She struggled to get her feet under her, even though she didn’t think she could stand on her own yet.