Ghost Series - Ghost Part 25

"No," Courtney said. "But . . ."

"Courtney just found out far more about her parents' love life than she ever wanted to," Mike said. "So did I."

"Mymomcame on to him!" Courtney wailed.

"What?" Pam gasped.

"Her parents are, apparently, in the 'scene,'" Mike said, chuckling. "We had a long talk about bondage safety."

"Dadwhipsher," Courtney gasped. "My mom hasalwaysbeen the boss in the family. This is getting a little hard to take."

Pam's phone rang and she looked at it as if it was a snake, then hit Connect.

"Yeah, Mom?" she said, then blinked. "Really? Great. Okaaay." She held it out to Mike. "She wants to talk to you."

"h.e.l.lo?" Mike said, trying not to sigh. This was turning into one h.e.l.l of a lot of work for a couple of . . .

no, it wasn't. What in the h.e.l.l was hethinking?

"Yes, ma'am," Mike said, taking a breath and definitelynotsighing. There was a pause as he listened to Pam's mother.

"Go ahead," Mike said, his eyebrows raising.

"Probably ring," Mike said. "Some ball but only monitored. Possibly c.o.c.k." . . .

"I will be." . . .

"I'm still making up my order in my mind," Mike said. "But leather. Probably locking." . . .

"Can't get it off if there's a panic attack," Mike said. "You can cut leather." He looked over at Pam, who was staring at him, wide-eyed, and shrugged.

"Possibly," Mike said. "I'm a trained bosun, we are trained to raise multihundred-ton boats. In a storm. If I do, it will probably be my own rig; I don't like most of the suspension rigs out there." . . .

"I'm going to contract and do the best negotiation I can," Mike said. "I was going to go over that sometime today or tomorrow and no major scene until we do." . . .

"Yes," Mike said. "I was. I'm still scripting the details." . . .

"Fine," he said, nodding. "Good talking to you, too, ma'am. No, I won't say that in front of the girls. Yes I will. Goodbye."

"Was that conversation about what Ithinkit was about?" Pam said, staring in horror.

"Yep," Mike said, shaking his head. "You two have got a couple ofkinkymoms. I guess the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Oh, G.o.d!" Pam wailed. "I didsonot want to know that!"

"It was better than having the conversation with heryourself," Courtney said. "Trust me." She paused and her brow furrowed. "Oh, G.o.d, your parents and my parents have been friends since . . ."

"We were ingradeschool," Pam said, closing her eyes. "I don't want to think about this!"

"At leastyourmom didn't describe to you the pleasure of beingwhipped," Courtney said.

"Really?" Mike asked.

"No!" Pam said.

"Yes! It was a . . . terribly weird conversation," Courtney said. "She ended up telling Mike to come by if he was ever in Steelville! And don't youdaresay anything about . . ."

"Mother-daughter action?" Mike asked, grinning. "Never crossed my mind."

"Isodon't want to think about . . ." Courtney said, closing her eyes. "You. My mom. Me. Oh, G.o.d, I need some brain floss!"

Pam was simply staring, wide-eyed, at the horizon.

"h.e.l.lo?" Mike said, somewhat seriously. "Earth to Pam."

"Us," she whispered. "In a scene. With our parents."

"Aaaah!" Courtney wailed. "Youhadto say that! I'veseensome bondage pictures. I sodon't want to think about that!"

"Your dad's . . . kinda cute," Pam said, still staring at the horizon.

"Noooo!" Courtney said. "Don'tsaythese things!"

Chapter Eight.

There were quite a few things, besides bondage gear, to pick up before they were ready to head out.

Most of the food and drinks for the trip they picked up in the Islamorada Wal-Mart, but Mike took them to specialty shops to get bathing suits. He had them pick up some light-weight "sun" s.h.i.+rts as well as broad-brimmed hats. He also had them each get a pair of high-heeled shoes but didn't shop for any other clothing. He, meanwhile, shopped the tools and hardware section, picking up various items he felt might be useful.

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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "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.

"G.o.d," Courtney said, sitting down to the table. "I take it back. Youcancook. 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, IknowI 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 a.n.a.l s.e.x?" 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.

"G.o.d," 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 a.n.a.l s.e.x or for you to c.u.m in my mouth. I don't like the taste."

"How about being fitted with a b.u.t.t 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 t.i.ts 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 pus.h.i.+ng 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 willendif you wish it. I don't want to drive you away from your current interest by pus.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+ps 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.

"Onesound," 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 d.a.m.ned slaver. Two pretty b.i.t.c.hes 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. "G.o.d! I thought you were serious!"

"That is half of the point," Mike said, reinserting the gag. "You will learn to be in total submission to your master. I will train you well. And then, I will sell you two b.i.t.c.hes and head back to pick up more."

Courtney had been stripped and now lay on her bed, spread-eagled, looking at the overhead bunk and flinching at each crack of the whip. Mike had dragged Pam out of the room and now, to tell from the sounds, was whipping her. She wasn't sure anymore, what was real and what was fantasy. All she knew was that she didn't want to be whipped and would do anything to avoid it.

"You will learn to like me c.u.ming in your mouth, b.i.t.c.h," Mike said, cracking the whip just above Pam's b.u.t.t and eliciting another moan of fear. He'd touched her, the first time, just with the tip on the a.s.s so she'd know how it felt. Now each time the whip cracked above her b.u.t.t, she couldn't be sure it wasn't real. He knew she was on another plane and was getting worried he was pus.h.i.+ng her too far.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, taking out the gag and replacing it with the whip.