John Kellerman: Teaser in torment

"Look, honey, Roger and I would love to cook up some steaks this evening. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"

"I don't want you to think I'm dumb…" I shrugged.

"Well, I guess I can understand. A pretty girl like you doesn't want to get cooped up with an old married couple. Not with all these boys looking at you." She winked. "The boys used to look at me, too, you know."

Ariel and I said good-bye in the lobby and I went back to the desk.

"Are you sure Scott Morely quit his job?" The deskman assured me he had. "And you don't have an address for him?"

"No, ma'am. Scott was…" The man tilted his head, smiled, "… kind of a rolling stone, if you know what I mean."

"Thank you." I started to turn away. "Oh… you don't happen to know someone named Chris, do you? About so tall. Blond hair almost to his shoulders. He was at a party here tonight."

"No, ma'am, I'm sorry. He doesn't sound like a guest here." The man raised his finger. "Oh, that reminds me, you have a card here. From your father, I believe." I got it from my box and read it. Daddy hoped I was enjoying myself and said he'd been delayed for a few days longer than first planned. He wouldn't be back for a whole week. I went back up to my room.

I'd looked at those three funny dents in the rug before, but this time I got down on my hands and knees. Three dents. Like a tripod had rested there. A tripod with something heavy on it. I went to the bathroom and brushed my hair. There was a red place on my neck where Chris had gotten a little carried away with one of his kisses. Just the look of it made my cunt get feverish. I picked up the knotted rubber from the sink. There was some of my blood smeared on the outside of it and inside the milky curds swished around as I rolled it in my palm. A little souvenir? Wham, barn, thank you, ma'am. No, he hadn't even said thank you. A sob threatened, but I bit my lip and held the jizz-filled rubber over the toilet. Somehow I just couldn't let it drop. Then I really did sob and I clutched the rubber to my lips.

"Damn him. It just isn't fair!" I hid the full rubber in my bag and picked up the phone. "Would you call me a cab, please? Miss Durant, room four-twenty. Thank you." I was just eighteen but that didn't keep me from making a fool of myself. I was going to have a look around the docks. There was an empty place inside me, and only Chris could do something about it.

"Yeah, lady, down there." The old salt waved his pipe. "The crummiest boat… you can't miss it."

Chris was on the deck winding a coil of rope when I came up. I went quietly up the gangplank. He was even tanner-looking than I remembered. I could smell him now. Nice smell. Maybe some of my smell on him. I coughed.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I… I… wanted to talk. About last night."

"Look…" He glanced around, then took my arm. "Okay, come on aboard. But you can't stay long."

I followed him down into the wood-paneled hallway that led to the rooms below deck. It was an old boat alright, but it had been a fancy one. Chris pointed to an unmade bunk and I sat and folded my hands on my knees. I had on my brightest bandana halter and a pair of faded jeans that even outdid his.

"Last night… I don't know why I let go like that… I hope you don't think…"

Chris wasn't looking at me. He got a beer from the small icebox and offered it to me. I shook my head. He opened it and drained half of it real fast.

"I know I was stoned," I went on, "but I'm positive someone else was in that room with us. You acted so strange when I didn't you hear?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and drank more beer. "I've got a lot of things to do. I'm taking this old tub out of here tonight."

"You're leaving? I thought maybe…"

"Yeah. Need a change." He still wasn't looking at me. "I think you'd better run along." He bent the beer can double and tossed it in a sackful of others. I was starting to get mad now.

"Okay. Fine. You left me that little souvenir. I guess it doesn't mean anything to you that that was the most exciting night of my whole life." My voice cracked. I got up and started past him.

"Listen, Robyn," he said, grabbing my arm. "You don't know the whole story."

"I sure don't. And I'm not sure I want to, either." Footsteps sounded on the steps. Scott Morely looked surprised to see me as I was to see him. He had a folded tripod in one hand and a heavy-looking camera in the other. I stepped back, bumped my head on the wall.

"Oh, shit," he said. "Grab her!"

Chris grabbed me, both arms around my waist. I felt the warmth of his chest against my back. I didn't know what was going on. The two of them wrestled me around some and then Chris was wrapping something around my wrists. It felt like nylon rope. I kicked and screamed and kept begging them to tell me what was happening, but Scott had a grim look on his face and Chris avoided my eyes. Then Chris shoved me into another room, a small sleeping compartment towards the front of the boat. The door slammed shut as I stumbled against the bed. There was talking outside. I shoved my ear against the wood panel but couldn't get it all. Something about my father. Something about the pictures they had. My face reddened. Pictures of me! Things were starting to make me nervous…

I heard someone leaving, climbing the stops to the deck. Then my door burst open and I petrified to see Scott standing there, a piece of heavy rough rope in his hands.

"Why are you holding me?" I yelled at him.

"You'd best keep your smart mouth shut," he said, coming towards me. "I think I'll pick up on a little of what you gave Chris last night."

"I didn't give it to him! I was… drugged on something."

"You sucked his cock, remember? You fucked him, too."

"Stay away!"

I couldn't move very fast with my wrists, bound. Scott tore my halter off with one quick jerk and then started undoing my cut-offs.

"Shut up, baby… and you won't get hurt."

He stripped me down to my panties. They were so skimpy and thin that I felt naked anyway. The rope was rough as he wound it around my legs and up my body. I didn't see why he was going to so much trouble. I couldn't get away with my wrists bound. He wrapped me in the strong strands all the way to my shoulders and then lowered me to the bed. I jerked and the rope cut my skin. I felt like a mummy. And now Scott was standing by the bed undoing his belt.

"Nooo! What are you going to do?"

The bastard wouldn't speak. He just had an awful smile on his face. When his pants dropped, his cock swung up dark and heavy. The foreskin was only partly pulled back and I could see the smooth, glistening membrane beneath it. I shuddered to think that he wanted me to take that thing in my mouth. I shook my head hard as he straddled my shoulders and shoved the damp underside of his cock against my chin and lips.

"Suck, you bitch!"

"Nooo! Ohhh, God…" He jerked the foreskin back to expose the slick head of his cock. Its juices wet my lips, smeared my cheeks as he tried to force his prick between my teeth. He leaned over me, a hand on the bed to support himself as he kept attempting to fuck his prick into my mouth. But I kept throwing my head to the side.

"If you want to play games, I've got some you wouldn't believe," Scott grumbled. He untied the rope and cut the cord that bound my wrists. I sat there on the bed rubbing the circulation back in and watching the door. I was tempted to make a break for it. But Scott was big. And he wasn't half so nice as Chris. I felt like crying when I thought of Chris being mixed up with a… crook. I still wasn't sure what they meant to do with me.

Scott looped the rope over a beam across the ceiling of the room. Then he made me put my wrists up and he tied them so that I could stand flat-footed on the floor. But then he stretched my ankles wide apart and tied them that way, one to a bed leg, the other to a hook in the wall. I whimpered and thrust my willowy body around. My bare tits jiggled on my chest and the tiny silken underwear I had on worked up between the crack of my ass.