SEA ORPHAN

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SEA ORPHAN Page 18

by J. KRAMER

“Put these on,” Gavin ordered and handed her an open velvet case.

  A magnificent diamond necklace sparkled up at her and matching earrings and bracelet. Becky grimaced as she put on the earrings and bracelet. When she placed the necklace around her neck Gavin quickly walked up to her and within seconds she felt his fingers fumbling with the catch.

  “Perfect,” he said while pulling at her arm. “Stand up so I can see better.” He twirled her around and smiled. “You’ve forgotten something.” He groped underneath the dress and pulled at the elastic, yanking the g-string down to her ankles. “There, that’s better. Let me escort you, milady,” he said in a smooth voice while pocketing the pistol and producing the key to the door.

  With sinking heart, Becky walked alongside him into the hallway and to the top of the stairs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Several guests, who had just arrived, gazed up at the couple descending the winding stairs. One of the women giggled and whispered something to her partner. The man glanced up at Becky. She saw his eyes hot on her body and she stopped. “Gavin, I can’t do this,” she hissed. “Let go of me.”

  “Not on your life,” said Gavin softly and smiled down at his guests.

  Mortified, Gavin’s fingers biting into her arm, Becky walked slowly down the stairs. Then, straightening her back and mustering all the courage she could, she walked as if she were dressed in the most normal gown. Maybe I’ll have a chance to find help among this crowd, she thought. Just pretend this isn’t happening, Becky. Make believe you’re wearing a gorgeous gown and the men are all staring at you with admiration rather than lust.

  Gathering her shredded pride she walked beside Gavin with dignity, while straightening her back and holding her head up high. He’d pulled her arm through his and held her wrist tightly with his other hand. The introductions were many. She avoided eye contact reading the lust in men’s eyes and disdain and disgust in women’s. She hardly remembered the names of the people she met. Not once did Gavin introduce her as his wife. There were people everywhere. If only Gavin would let go of her so she could mingle and try to find help, or even slip out the door and sneak into one of the many cars parked outside.

  Gavin led her through the living room. As far as she knew it was the first time she’d ever been in that room. Nothing jolted her memory. It all seemed very unfamiliar. The room was huge, so big, that one could hardly call it a living room. Suddenly she did see something familiar. A crowd was gathered near the fireplace admiring the painting that hung above it. Becky gasped. It was one of the paintings that were in the cabin on the boat, the one of her worshipping the moon and stars.

  “See, Becky, you’re the center of attention tonight.” Gavin squeezed her arm and pulled her through the crowd. “Ladies and gentleman, and here is the model for that masterpiece,” he announced in a loud voice.

  Becky felt mortified. Gavin had degraded the beautiful painting of which she was so proud. People milled around her, suffocating her. A woman pushed through the throng. Blazing green eyes, reminiscent of a cat’s, scrutinized Becky from head to toe. Becky stepped back. She read hatred in the woman’s eyes.

  “So, Gavin, darling. This is your new toy? I didn’t think you went for little girls,” said the woman.

  “Becky, this is Monica. Monica, meet Becky.”

  Monica ignored Becky and stood very close to Gavin, her face just inches away from his. “That’s why you discarded me? You’re a pig, Gavin Roarke,” she hissed, then kissed him on the lips.

  A chuckle came from Gavin’s throat. He didn’t mind Monica calling him names and he rather enjoyed this game. He felt her hand on his crotch and squirmed. His cock had been erect ever since they’d mingled with the crowd. The lust in his guests’ eyes amused him and caused the blood to pump through his veins sending messages to his penis. “You haven’t changed a bit, Monica,” he murmured against the red lips. Monica’s breasts, almost piling out of the tight bodice, enticed him so much he released Becky’s wrist and groped deep into the satiny material until the restrained breasts popped free.

  Becky watched with big eyes and couldn’t believe that the woman allowed this exposure in front of so many people. Neither did she make any effort to hide her breasts or stop Gavin’s hands from fondling them. Becky saw her chance. Yanking her arm free from Gavin’s she pushed through the crowd. Hands groped at her, yanked at the strips covering her breasts, but she shoved them away.

  Gavin suddenly felt Becky’s arm pull free out of his but before he could grab her, she was gone. Not wanting to make a scene, he shoved Monica rudely away then elbowed his way through the crowd, keeping an eye on her blond hair. He spotted Harry and quickly joined him. “Harry, Becky has taken off. Go and get her and bring her back.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “She’s heading for the French doors. Try and do it quietly.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Harry towered over many of the guests, so he spotted Becky easily. He knew he’d never catch her by trying to get through the crowd so he headed for the front door. He’d catch her on the way out.

  Smiling, he watched her dart out of the French doors and onto the balcony. Several men tried to stop her but she squirmed away from their groping hands. Harry calmly waited behind one of the large pillars. When he heard the click of her heels on the marble tiles he stepped out just in time to catch her in his arms.

  Becky pummeled the man’s chest. “Let me go. I hate you and I know the feeling is mutual, so help me get out of here,” she yelled.

  Harry looked down into her wild eyes. “Sorry. I don’t particularly like you but I have to do what the boss tells me to do. So you’d better come along quietly. Gavin won’t like it if you cause a scene. People are already staring.”

  “I don’t care. Let me go!”

  “Becky, you can’t escape until Gavin lets you go. The grounds are well guarded so your plan to run away is foolish.”

  “I’m not sleeping in the same bed as that monster! I’ll kill myself first.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that. Believe me, by the time Gavin goes to bed he won’t be in shape to do anything much. He’ll be well spent. I’ve seen so many of these parties. And tomorrow he’ll sleep nearly all day.”

  “And then there is tomorrow night.”

  “He’s got another party planned for tomorrow evening. You’ll be safe for a while. The parties will continue every night for a few weeks.”

  “Harry, I’m not well. I need to see a doctor.”

  “I’ll take you to Gavin’s doctor tomorrow. Tonight, just play along with him. You’ll be fine.”

  Becky realized there was nothing she could do that night except listen to Harry’s advice. “Do you think he’d notice if I went upstairs and changed into something less provocative?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Right now he’ll notice. Wait till later. There’s Gavin now. Remember, humor him.”

  Becky saw the rage in Gavin’s eyes as he walked towards them. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I panicked for a moment,” she said demurely while staring at his shoes. Obediently she took Gavin’s offered arm and accompanied him back into the house.

  “Dinner is served,” announced a servant several times before the guests heard.

  Dinner was smorgasbord style. Becky had already wondered how so many people would fit in the dining room. Even though it was big it couldn’t seat any more than thirty-six people or so. And Gavin had invited at least two hundred people.

  Becky ate very little. Gavin’s little performance had taken her appetite away. She noticed that Gavin barely picked at his food but poured one whisky after another instead, ignoring the bottles of wine served with dinner.

  As Harry had predicted, Gavin started to let go of her arm and walked away from her several times, but he’d always stay within watching distance. Becky waited patiently until Monica snared Gavin again. He was too drunk to notice anything any more and willingly allowed Monica to lead him away.

  Be
cky saw her chance. Quickly, she went upstairs to the master bedroom. As she opened the door she heard the sound of a couple engaged in sex. She stopped to stare at them. They were so absorbed in their play they didn’t notice her. Quietly, Becky tiptoed to the closet. The door slid open silently and she stepped inside. After turning on the light she quickly closed the door and looked at through the row of gowns and clothing that hung on one side of the closet. The other side had Gavin’s clothing.

  Most of the gowns were just as provocative as the one she had on, except two. One was red, the other pale blue. She chose the blue gown. After discarding the white gown and throwing it nonchalantly in a corner, she slipped into the blue. It fit her to perfection. The zipper at the back posed a problem. She’d have no choice but to ask for help with it but she could ask one of the servants. Matching shoes completed the outfit. She was about to remove the necklace, earrings and bracelet as she didn’t feel comfortable wearing them, but changed her mind. Gavin was very drunk. He’d already be angry if noticed she had changed into a different gown but she could always make the excuse that she’d spilled something on the other one. But the missing jewelry could enrage him more.

  On the back of the door was a full-length mirror. Becky examined her image and smiled. Now, she could mingle among the guests with true dignity. The gown flowed in gentle folds from under her breasts, the neckline just low enough to show some cleavage. She felt elegant and dignified as she twirled before the mirror and wondered if she’d modeled these kind of dresses.

  Opening the door a crack she peeked at the couple on the bed. They were facing the closet so she could not leave without them seeing her, the woman on all fours, the man taking her from behind. Patiently she waited, watching their sexual prowess. The man was older and heavyset. Becky guessed him to be in his fifties. The woman was much younger and probably in her early thirties. Are they married? She wondered. Or are they just having some fun?

  She soon had her answer. The man grunted and collapsed on the bed. The woman squealed, then crawled between the man’s legs and started licking his balls.

  “Bruce, you’re so goddamn sexy for your age. You turn me on like no man ever has,” the woman whispered in a throaty voice.

  “Barbara, wait a while. Let me catch my breath, woman!”

  Barbara didn’t answer and sucked on Bruce’s cock as if it were a lollypop, all the while little noises coming from her throat almost sounding like a cat in heat.

  Becky felt the flesh between her legs start to throb. Did the man love Barbara? Or was she just a toy, like she was for Gavin?

  Barbara crawled up, licking Bruce’s belly, his navel, until she finally reached his lips. “Bruce, when are you going to ask your wife for a divorce?”

  “Soon, babe. I promise I’ll ask her. Very soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” purred Barbara. “So, am I going to get it?”

  “Get what, babe?” said Bruce, panting heavily now while Barbara’s fingers kneaded his balls, his small cock stiffening slightly.

  “The lead?”

  “Oh, that. I’ll do my best, babe,” Bruce grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard, pulling them toward his mouth.

  The man’s cock fascinated Becky. It was small, almost like a little boy’s penis and slightly crooked. Even when completely erect, it was no longer or thicker than her middle fingers, the head slightly larger and purplish. When Barbara’s lips closed around the man’s cock, she almost swallowed it.

  Becky, though somewhat turned off by the man’s blubbering belly, his small cock, which almost made her laugh and his pathetic attempts to match the woman’s gymnastics, still could not help the throbbing of her clit. The woman’s erotic play caused an indescribable longing within her. It felt as if her soul were reaching for something—someone, her clit ached for love, sensual love, not lust. Barbara was almost surely after a role in a movie, the man probably a producer, and she was using all her sexuality to get the role.

  The woman’s flaming bush, matching her elegant coiffure, looked like a patch of fire between her legs. Becky pushed a fist against her clit, ignoring the stabs of pain this caused. It gave her some relief from the desires that suddenly raged through her body. She felt like taking off the gown and masturbating while watching the couple, but she knew if Gavin noticed her absence, he’d make a scene.

  She struggled with the zipper. Finally she got it done up. When the man closed his eyes and the woman straddled him, her back toward the closet, Becky saw her chance. Quickly, she ran to the door and shot through it just as the woman turned around. Becky saw the woman glance at the closing door just before she shut it. She leaned against it for a moment. “Phew, that was close,” she breathed while the throbbing desire slowly ebbed to be replaced by apprehension at joining the festivities downstairs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The party was now in full swing. Becky walked down the stairs. The front door stood wide open, people coming in and going out steadily, the downstairs now resembling a busy ant nest. She shoved her way through, the thick haze of smoke almost causing her to choke. Desperate for fresh air, she managed to get to the front verandah.

  Harry stood leaning against the balustrade. He was talking to two young men. “Becky, there you are. Gavin was searching for you, but not to worry. He’s otherwise occupied now,” he said bellowing with laughter, echoed by the two men.

  “Thank God for that,” said Becky. “That means I can go to bed. Are there any vacant rooms?”

  “None but the master bedroom I’m afraid.”

  “I just came from there. It’s occupied too,” Becky said sarcastically.

  “Too bad. Then there’s nothing left except the servant’s quarters. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re in use too.”

  “I’ll go for a walk then. Maybe I’ll find some peace in the rose garden.”

  “You do that, Becky, but be sure to stay on the grounds. The gatekeeper has been warned not to let you out and the wall is patrolled by guards and their dogs.”

  Without answering, Becky walked down the marble steps. The grounds were fully lit by floodlights—trees decorated with tiny white lights and bright colored lanterns flanked the paths.

  A flagstone path led to and through the rose garden. Becky stepped carefully on each stone until she finally took off her shoes and carried them. Holding the skirt with one hand so the hem wouldn’t get dirty, the shoes in the other, she walked slowly past the blooming bushes occasionally stopping to sniff a rose.

  In the center of the garden she found a small fountain. A graceful statue of a mermaid lazily spouted water. The fine spray misted toward Becky. She relished its cool drops and licked them off her lips. Sitting on the marble ledge she dropped the shoes and swirled the water with her hand. Lamps lit the water from below. Large goldfish swam lazily and lilies drifted on top, some white, some scarlet, resembling bright splashes of blood against the white marble background, reminding her of Gavin’s crazed eyes and his gun.

  One of the red lilies touched her hand. She traced its leaves gently with her finger. Suddenly the familiar headache began and a picture flashed through her mind. It was of a naked girl swimming in a pool that was dotted with lilies of all colors. The girl laughed and splashed, beckoning someone to join her. A male figure, also naked, drifted into the vision. Tall, slender, magnificent, his golden body athletic, muscular, his face surrounded by a mane of blonde hair. The girl held out her arms.

  Becky frowned as the vision dimmed; the man’s face a blur. Concentrating as hard as she could she tried to focus on the man’s face but slowly the picture disappeared and her headache increased. “That was me,” she said softly while splashing some of the cool water on her forehead. “But who was that man?”

  “Hopefully me,” said a deep voice behind her.

  Startled, Becky jumped up.

  “Don’t be afraid. Let me introduce myself. My name is Charles Burke.”

  “I’m Becky—eh—Roarke,” said Becky almost hesitant to admit to her
married name. The man facing her was tall. He looked to be in his early sixties. Keen blue eyes examined her from head to toe, not with lust but with admiration. He had a shock of silver hair, which curled slightly around his ears.

  “Roarke? I didn’t know Gavin had a sister. And a beautiful one at that.”

  “Gavin is my husband,” Becky said feeling ashamed to be connected with Gavin at all.

  “Is that so? And when did this happen?”

  “Pardon?”

  “When did Gavin marry you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? Weren’t you there when you and Gavin got married?”

  “I suppose I was. I don’t remember.”

  “The marriage must have happened very suddenly. When Gavin left on the yacht he was still a very single man. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Becky said in a small voice.

  “This is all very strange. You don’t remember when you got married. Were you drunk at the time?”

  Suddenly, Becky felt the need to talk to someone and this man seemed so nice, so fatherly, she spilled the truth. “I lost my memory,” she said. “I was unconscious for a few days and when I woke up everything was weird, my husband was a stranger. I don’t know where I’m from or how we met. And I don’t like this party or the people attending it.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. If you like, I’ll leave you alone,” said Charles.

  “No, please don’t go. I mean—oh, I don’t know what I mean. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone,” said Becky, trying hard not to cry.

  “Well, by the sounds of your accent, you’re an Aussie. Did you get married in Australia?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about my life before I woke up.”

  “How did you lose your memory?”

  “Gavin says I slipped on deck and hit my head,” without realizing it feeling the back of her head.

  “Mm, this is becoming more mysterious by the minute. I can’t imagine Gavin marrying anyone. I paid Gavin a handsome retainer to find me my dream woman. I wonder if you’re that woman and he decided to keep you for himself.”

 

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