She Shouldnt, But She Will

by Francis Drake

  “Sin.”

  The man’s brows arched, but he showed no other signs of interest. “Very well.”

  Thia watched the man write Sin Pirate in the top corner of the invitation before handing it back to Derek. “Your cloaks will be taken after we get underway. Please go through the hatch at the top of the gangway.”

  Following directions, they entered an exquisite lounge where they joined the other guests, also wearing cloaks and masks. As they entered, a crewman took their invitation, rang a bell and announced Derek and Sin Pirate.

  Thia immediately blushed with embarrassment. At that moment, she was glad to be wearing the cloak and mask as people turned and stared.

  * * * *

  “Hello, Derek. Peter told us you’d be joining us tonight. We’re your hosts. I’m Sylvester and this is Lilly. You received your costumes with no difficulty?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Derek shook Sylvester’s hand and gave a smile and cordial nod to Lilly. “I’m please to meet you both.” He brought Thia to his side and smiled down at her. “This is, my Sin.”

  “Derek’s Sin. How appropriate. Please order whatever you like from the bar. We will be pushing off shortly.”

  Derek and Thia moved into the room. On their trip to Monterey, Derek had taught her a few nautical terms, such as bulkhead for wall. But bulkhead seemed crass to describe the sides of this area. Rich teak bead board covered the bottom half and a luminescent dark gold material covered the top. Banquettes of plush red velvet provided seating, and they walked on Oriental carpeting over a teakwood floor. Shimmering crystals hung from two chandeliers and a mirror along the far wall reflected the glittering splendor.

  At least sixty people milled around, chatting and drinking or sampling the hors d'oeuvres laid out buffet style near the bar. Except for head coverings, the cloaks and masks lent everyone an aura of sameness. Thia knew that would change when the cloaks came off.

  She held tightly to Derek’s arm, feeling fear akin to walking through a strange part of town and not knowing who might jump out of a doorway or from behind a building. It was the fear of the unknown. She tugged his sleeve and he leaned his ear to her mouth. “I’m nervous. Please don’t leave me alone.”

  Derek whispered back, “I'll stay with you every minute. I’ll even go into the bathroom with you if you agree to use the men’s room.”

  Thia giggled and said, “I may take you up on that.”

  Drinks and appetizers in hand, they mixed with the other guests. Derek conducted the conversations. Thia gave only short answers to direct questions.

  The boat slowly moved away from the dock and into the Bay. Thia gripped Derek’s arm again. Oh, she was an idiot. What was she, a quiet, relatively shy, staid accountant doing half-naked on a ship bound for a remote mansion? This was like an old movie where the naive damsel was led to a surprising fate.

  Her stomach flipped cartwheels and her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. Would they reverse and take her back to the dock if she told Derek she felt sick?

  Derek provided the only semblance of legitimacy for her being on board. She was attempting to help him by posing as his date and adding to his cover, but that didn’t excuse her dress, or that she was even now heading away from the security of the shore. They were among a lot of other people, so maybe no one would notice her. In fact, perhaps she and Derek could hang on the perimeter of the party, escaping notice.

  No, if she asked to go back, how would he investigate?

  Focusing on the conversation once again, she heard, “Are you going to bid on the slaves tonight?”

  Derek glanced down at her before replying. “Probably not, though I’m interested to see how it’s handled. I think my companion might object to my adding to our party with a slave girl.” He slid his arm across her shoulders and squeezed her to him.

  She smiled up at him, wondering what her response to him should be. “Maybe next time.” His fingers curled around her shoulder. He was pleased with her answer.

  “If they’re selling women, the drugs won’t be far away,” he murmured in her ear as he steered her away from the other couple.

  “The auction can’t be real.”

  His frown showed he wasn’t completely sure. “You’re doing well, but be careful of what you drink and eat.”

  For the first time, she noticed Derek still carried his second drink but it had barely been touched. In her nervousness, she’d downed three fruity concoctions and was half-way through her fourth.

  “They might have drugged the drinks.” Her mouth must have formed a horrified O because he continued, “Not with what we’d consider a bad drug, but something to loosen inhibitions. Uptight people gamble less and certainly might object to some of the party games I think we might be seeing. Alcohol relaxes people but it’s possible they’ve added something else to enhance it. I should have warned you. How many have you had?”

  She looked at the glass in her hand and then up to his face. “This is my fourth.”

  He took the glass from her to set on a table. “No more for you.”

  “Absolutely not.” But she looked longingly at the drink as they moved away. With the militant butterflies in her stomach, she could have used a little something to calm her down.

  Then she giggled to herself. Sex is an excellent calming activity. And she wondered if that thought came from the alcohol or her own blossoming desires.

  * * * *

  Shortly after moving out into open waters Thia realized crewmen were moving through the throng collecting cloaks. One by one, costumes were revealed. She noticed a definite pattern. The women’s costumes tended to reveal a great deal of body, either breasts or bottoms or even the pubic area for some. The men’s costumes weren’t nearly so open, although many of them emphasized the penis. She must remember to keep her gaze on people’s faces and not well, other places.

  Thia turned away from Derek and the man he chatted with to continue looking around the room. Her knees weakened as she watched one couple remove their cloaks, exposing they wore nothing but loincloths hanging from strings around their waists, and their masks. She did her best to act natural but the gasp gave her away. Her imagination ran wild as to what kind of party this might be. Under her stare, the man’s dick started to rise. She gave another gasp and quickly raised her gaze. The man smiled and winked. She smiled faintly and tuned back into Derek’s conversation, the smile still on her face.

  Turning away from the loin-cloth couple didn’t help clear Thia’s consciousness. Just beyond the man talking to Derek she saw another couple’s costumes revealed.

  The man wore a sultan’s robes and his date had nothing covering her save a shimmery, translucent slave’s costume. The top barely hung below her breasts, which showed through the material anyway, as did her pussy. Thia was pleased to see the woman had shaved her pubic area as she had, leaving a triangle of dark hair.

  The slave trousers hung on the woman’s hips and stretched tight across her crotch, then fell full and billowing to her ankles where they fit tightly.

  Jewels glimmered in her hair—as well as on her neck collar and wrist and ankle restraints. The clothing marked her a woman who was used by the sultan. The restraints and chains marked her his slave. She didn’t look unhappy with the arrangement.

  “May I have your cloak, please?”

  She gasped. It was her turn to expose herself as so many others had. She looked up to see Derek already stood in his pirate regalia, watching her with interest. Could she do it?

  After a deep breath Thia reacted. With one hand she unfastened the clasp at her neck, and slipped free the first button. Then she stopped, unable to go through with it. Unable to expose herself to the stares of strangers.

  Derek’s hands slid over hers. “Let me help,” he said in a low voice. With each button he released, the back of his fingers grazed the silk, causing it to flutter against her skin. She sucked in her breath and he raised his gaze. The amusement in his eyes told her he did it on purpose. “A littl
e sensuality to help you relax.”

  “Yes, well, what relaxes a person one way adds a certain tension in others,” she muttered back.

  He laughed, sliding her cloak off her shoulders and handing it to the crewman. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that later.” He leaned forward and let his lips brush her temple. “In the meantime—” he slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her for his conversational companion to see “—I want to show you off.”

  He held her in such a way she couldn’t move her arms to cover her breasts. The man Derek had spoken to—a cowboy with his chest bared under a suede vest and with a leather codpiece was impressive if he indeed filled it—gazed at her with unabashed admiration. With the Stetson hat and toy six-shooters strapped to his hips, the mask made him into an erotic Lone Ranger.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “I understand this is your first masquerade at Maison de Plaisir.”

  “House of Pleasure?” It had been a long time since high school French but somehow this came back to her.

  Sexy Mr. Ranger smiled and nodded. With a smile like he had, he wouldn’t be a “lone” ranger for long. “I think you’ll find it lives up to its name if you give it a chance.” He moved a step closer after an appraising glance at Derek. “Perhaps I can show you around later?”

  “Oh, no thank you.”

  Derek spoke up. “I doubt I’ll let the lady out of my sight. But hopefully we’ll be back for other parties.”

  “Maybe some other time,” he said and moved away.

  “I can see it’s going to be a full-time job keeping other men away from you,” Derek whispered in her ear before depositing a kiss on her cheek.

  Thia wasn’t sure how much this was for their act or if he felt as attracted to her as she did to him.

  “You smell great.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for letting me tell the cowboy no before you stepped in.”

  He shrugged. “If you’d agreed I wouldn’t have been happy but I probably wouldn’t have stood in your way.” He nibbled her neck. “I’m glad you didn’t agree.”

  Really?

  She reached down to feel his dick was big and hard. “We should do something about that, got any ideas?”

  “Yes, let’s find the head.”

  She followed when Derek took her hand. Outside the lounge and down a narrow passageway, Derek found what he was looking for. He tugged her into the bathroom.

  The space was as richly appointed as the lounge, and large enough for two, but just barely. Thia examined the waistband of his trousers.

  “No belt, just Velcro,” he said, his voice low and husky. The distinctive sound of peeling apart the material filled the room. It was a small thing then to lift the satiny fabric of his trousers over Derek’s cock and let them slide down his legs.

  “No underwear?” she purred.

  “In honor of you, knowing you were going without some items of clothing.”

  His smile warmed her. Dropping to her knees, she clasped her hands behind her. Sitting back on her heels, she let him see her submissiveness. With a sound that was between a groan and a growl, he curled his hand around her scalp and guided her lips to the crown of his scepter.

  The fine material of his trousers couldn’t compare with the smooth, satiny head of his cock. She laved it with her tongue, taking particular pleasure in teasing the tiny slit, which rewarded her with a drop of clear, glistening pre-cum.

  She licked it and then took the crown in her mouth. Derek rocked into her, feeding her his cock inch by glorious inch.

  She snaked her tongue along the vein on the side of his hard shaft. There was no way anything that hard should have been able to bend, but his spear molded to the recesses of her mouth and dipped into her throat when she’d taken all of him. The wiry curls surrounding the base tickled her nose, but not for long because he pulled his hips back. Her lips clamped on his shaft and lightly grazed her teeth along his length.

  “God!”

  The pleasure of taking him in her mouth radiated through her, starting with the taste buds on her tongue to the raspy-rough texture at the top of her throat. She lapped the head and started down his length again.

  Derek’s hands firmly held her head. With the scarf twisted around her head he couldn’t touch her hair, but she wished he could. She wanted to feel his fingers twisting through her strands, imprisoning her on her knees. The better to service him.

  “Enough.” His voice was hardly recognizable, but his hands on her shoulders left no imagination as to what he wanted.

  He pulled her to her feet and bent her over the pedestal sink rim. She watched his masked face in the mirror, saw the glitter in his eyes. “Now we see why the instructions said no panties.” From some hidden pocket, Derek drew out a condom and in seconds he was sheathed. It took little effort to push her skirt over the silky globes of her bottom. “Yes?” he asked.

  “Please do me, do me now,” Thia replied. He accommodated her in one smooth thrust, setting both of them back on their heels. With every stroke her reason diminished until she was completely consumed with the sensations wracking her body.

  He bent her almost double and his weight pressed her down. His thumb circled her asshole and his finger rubbed her clit in time with his invading dick.

  She used the mirror to push against until she could take no more. Her pussy convulsed, milking his dick and sending her into spasms until she fell forward, limp.

  And they weren’t even at the party yet.

  * * * *

  Feeling the yacht slow, Derek and Thia joined the group on deck. The boat entered an inlet and then turned to starboard. A large Victorian house perched on the rocks. An extensive set of steps led from the dock to the top of the bluff, but there was also a small tram running alongside the steps. When the boat was docked, Derek looked back. The boat and dock were masked from the ocean.

  Sylvester Oglethorpe addressed his guests. “This evening will be a charity event for world hunger. The entertainment will start with casino gambling, with all house proceeds going to world hunger. Following, the slaves will participate in various contests where guests may bet on the participants. As most of you who have attended our functions know, the final and often most exciting event is the slave auction.”

  He smiled as a titter went through the people on deck. “Yes, it’s a popular event. Any of you may place bids on the slaves, and they will be yours to command for the next week. Of course, they must be returned a week from Monday morning in the same condition as when they leave this house, unless other arrangements are made. As usual, the contest participants will be standing in review as you go into the house and will be available for inspection during the casino gambling. Please examine them carefully as to place better bets.”

  So, this is a serious auction, Derek thought.

  Thia’s face flushed.

  “Worried?” he asked.

  “It’s a real slave auction,” she whispered. “I thought they meant the ‘slaves’ would be around to help serve drinks or something during the evening. Or—” she looked up and blushed even redder “—to serve in other ways.”

  “How can you blush after what we just did in the head?” Derek nuzzled her ear, amazed this woman could act the wanton and still seem so innocent at other times. “Relax,” he added. “It’s for charity.”

  “I don’t care. It doesn’t seem right.”

  He smiled. “Would you like to be auctioned? I’d bid a lot of money on you.”

  “No, not this time.”

  “Not this time?”

  “No. Not ever.”

  He bit back a laugh. “Ok, let’s go have some fun.”

  Inside the front door was a line of naked women. All were Oriental. They all had their hair in long ponytails. Blindfolds covered their eyes and numbered armbands encircled their upper arms. Their hands were tied behind their backs and their ankles were bound. Around each of their necks hung signs.

  Derek knew this was a partial explanatio
n for the frequent trips to the Orient. Could the drugs supplement some kind of slave trade? Or did human trafficking support the drugs? They’d hardly entered the house and his investigation had turned a corner. His Monday morning report would be interesting.

  Thia made little noises indicating her distress as she reached each girl. The rest of the guests seemed to take the line of naked women in stride. Indeed, small groups had gathered around some of the women. Both men and woman pinched, poked and generally examined the compliant slaves.

  Thia turned and gave him a once-over look, then stroked her hand down the front of his trousers. “Hey,” he said. “Watch it or we’ll have to find another bathroom.”

  “I’m just relieved to see these poor women don’t excite you.”

  “I like my women willing and free to say no.” She smiled up at him and he felt compelled to add, “Not that I like them to.”

  “I’ll remember,” she murmured.

  Derek read the sign for the woman where they stood. Twenty-two years of age, five feet one inch, ninety-six pounds. Please buy me. I need a master to satisfy. I am fluent in seven languages (English, French, German, Italian, Russian, Arabic, Mandarin) and understand four more (Greek, Spanish, Farsi, Japanese). I have two degrees in math and excel in literature. If you buy me I will do anything to please you. My body and skills will be yours to command.

  “Fucking amazing,” Derek muttered. A quick check of the woman next in line showed her education and skills to be comparable. What in hell was going on? Why would educated women like this allow themselves to be put in this position?

  Derek looked down the line of would-be slaves. This could be the lead that would break the case but how could he leave knowing what was going to happen to these women? His heart sank as he watched people feel and probe their compliant bodies.

  Derek pulled Thia a little tighter against him, feeling suddenly protective. “Don’t stray.”