Chapter 2
That night I dreamt of my fair lady Rugt. She was wearing a stunning orange gown and in the very stateroom where my oral instrument contacted her soft flesh, we held another session of attempted love. This time she would be all mine. In my frivolous dream Mrs. Rugt was willing to submit to my boyish advances. I clung to her two breasts as though they were succulent fruits, the like of which I had never tasted. Nervously I unzipped her dress and she displayed a marvelous bronzed back leading to a most delicious and tender nape. I expressed my love by planting wet kisses up and down her back and then I wandered across her splendid shoulders and then nibbled at her ears. All the while my roving hands played with her teats caressing her fine curves rhythmically and tickling her stiffened nipples. I felt her shake and shudder and a prolonged 'ahhhh' proved that she was immensely pleased. With one fell swoop she uncovered her voluptuous, round ass. Resting on her knees and still wearing her dark seductive hose and glossy high-heeled shoes, she spread her supple legs apart, arched her strong back and offered her impeccable buttocks to me.
To see those rounded halves beckon me toward a mysterious crevice and hidden nest with the hint of bursting pleasure made me so hot that I practically ripped my pants away. Feverishly I crept toward the swaying ass, but in my haste I stumbled over my dragging trousers. I recovered my footing and with a prick as stiff as a board I advanced on the patient Mrs. Rugt. My swollen cock directed me to the awaiting moist hole. And just as my tantalizing partner reached behind to guide my pleasure stick into her private region, I ejaculated my sperm on her creamy ass. I was so mortified that my face reddened far deeper than the orange frock which prematurely stopped its inundation. In my disgrace I was forced to call upon my wit and make up for my incredible blunder and lack of restraint. My face knifed into the long slit that separated the pear shaped cheeks. My tongue ran up and down seeking the delicious nectar and my nostrils inhaled the wonderful fragrance of Mrs. Rugt's fanny.
If you had walked into my room early that morning you would have seen my face buried in the pillow and my covers kicked to the floor. You would have also noticed that my pajamas had slipped to my ankles and that the clean white sheet was blotched by a sticky substance. When I awoke I felt foolish and mixed emotion pervaded me. I was not quite happy and my pride hurt as I hastened to the bathroom to wash up.
I cannot say what exactly provoked me to pack immediately after I had performed my toilet. Perhaps it was simply that I wanted a change and felt that the sea voyage would give me a new outlook on things. But I really knew down deep that I was bound to that woman and I had to have her. My failure to possess her in my dream condemned me as a second-rate lover and I had to prove myself to myself. And that is why I stole away as quietly and secretly as the proverbial Arab.
I arrived at the pier early and bleary eyed. The ocean mist enshrouded the craft and gave it an eerie ghost-like appearance. I hesitated about waiting at the foot of gangplank and with a little courage decided to step on to the yacht. I loaded one bag on to my shoulder and lugged the other one up with my best arm. I probably resembled an apprentice sailor who was off for his first cruise. Well, that's what it was and I was as green as the sea-weed that surrounded the boat.
There was a curious silence that pervaded the brisk air. I decided to explore the ship. Around the decks I went, tripping over a cord here and there and almost falling down an open shaft. When I felt had seen everything above deck I ventured below.
The corridors were small and interspersed with mahogany doors which led to the cabins. I simply pushed forward trying to find my bearings. I had no idea whether I was aft or amidships. (For all my innocence I did have a vague knowledge of sea terms after all.)
As I was passing from one corridor to another, I heard what seemed to be a torturous moan and it made me stop dead in my tracks. I stopped to listen once again to make sure of what I had just heard and this time it came through with more clarity. It was an indescribable groan. It sounded like a child or an animal writhing in pain. My better instincts told me to leave the ship at once, but my curiosity, which is always getting the best of me, lured me to the spot of the tormented cries. I flattened my ear against one door and then another in order to detect the exact room and the origin of the unusual commotion. I lingered at one door where I heard some mumbling following by a stifled groan.
I had to look. I wanted to know whether someone was having a nightmare or was in pain. Perhaps I would be able to help. Quietly and with the greatest precaution I lowered the door handle and slightly pushed the door open.
What I saw worked so strongly on my reflex action that the door closed swiftly and silently just as it had opened. I tip-toes to the stairway and climbed up on the wind deck for some air.
Well this is what I saw. Not that it troubled me so much at the time, but I understood more about it later on. Just one good look peek was enough to see two soft limbs spread apart while a long feather, at least that is what I imagined it to be, was used to tickle the inner thighs of a young lady whose head was lost in a mass of rich blond hair. I had a glimpse of the person who was manipulating the feather and from the unmistakable reddish-brown mane, it was none other than the illustrious seductive Mrs. Rugt.
As anyone else would have, I found what I had seen quite odd. However, I did not dwell on it too long and merely assumed that the great lady was just playing a practical joke on her young daughter or niece or whoever it might be.
My thoughts on this subject were drawn away for the moment when I saw a well-dressed graying man walk up the entrance plank. Obviously this was Mr. Rugt. I was able to tell from his aristocratic bearing.
He climbed on board and calmly looked around while taking off his gloves. He spotted me and with majestic grace walked over to where I was.
"You are I take it, the new cabin boy," his tone was dry and concise.
"Yes ... sir," I thought the 'sir' was appropriate and common usage aboard ship.
"You will probably be told of your duties later on today either by my wife or myself. I think she has informed you of the three cardinal rules - obedience, devotion and good work." He surveyed me carefully to make sure that I realized these few major words of importance.
"I think it would only be fair to warn you that my wife has her caprices, perhaps a little different from other women, but nevertheless they must be adhered to."
He walked away from me while he was talking as though he were slightly ashamed of something.
"I married Nora principally for her extreme beauty. Some men cherish intelligence, goodness, capability, fidelity or what have you. But for me, a woman must have beauty, sheer animal beauty. Needless to say that this would preclude a temperament, rather fiery and at times unmanageable. I am an intelligent man Mr ... Mr ... I don't think I quite got your name."
"Mr. Gordon," I introduced myself.
"I am an intelligent man, Mr. Gordon," he continued. "And the real mark of an intelligent man is to know what he wants and once he gets it to take it for better or worse and not complain."
"You may not understand now, but one day you will see what I mean. That is if you stay with us long enough."
He nudged me and his voice became more intimate.
"Cater to my wife's whims. I love her and she means everything to me even though I must suffer for it many times."
His sad narrow eyes showed him to be a man of deep sensitivity and brooding. This man had married a bewitching tigress and for her love was ready to sacrifice his life. Should such a man be blessed or cursed? I really did not know.
"By the way, Mr. Gordon, you haven't seen my wife this morning, have you?"
Mentally I am rather agile and at times, I have remarkable tact. I lied:
"No, Mr. Rugt, I haven't been aboard very long."
"You seem likeable enough, Mr. Gordon, but you will have to prove yourself an exceptional lad for this sort of voyage. I am going down to my cabin now. It is nice having you aboard, my boy." We shook hands and I watched him descend the ladder as gracefully as he had come aboard.
He seemed alright to me, though there was a strange expression in his eyes that I didn't quite capture. I was to find out about it much later on. For the moment, I expanded my lungs and drank in the healthy sea air.
I walked up to the bow of the yacht and was surprised to see a young girl in a white, almost transparent tunic and flowing blond hair. She was as rigid and fixed as the prow of a boat.
Suddenly her head jerked up as she heard me coming up from behind. She spun around and with a pair of strange blue eyes staring into space declared:
"My name is Hilda."
The first impression that I had was that the girl with the fair complexion was walking in her sleep or was in a trance. But she reassured me by altering her grand blue eyes and pinning them on me with great severity.
"You will have to behave here and show respect for Nora ... I mean Mrs. Rugt. And if you don't, I will hate you and never play with you."
What a strange girl! She must have been 17 years old at the most. Gifted with a fresh Nordic beauty, the young lass was as light in her walk as a ballet dancer. In fact, I thought of her as a ballerina. She had a figure which was made for the dancer. Her back was well arched, pushing her moderate breasts straight ahead and her shapely rump was taut and virginal. Her legs, although not as long as those of Mrs. Rugt, were amazingly well-balanced and rounded.
Indeed I was lucky to be with two such wonderful females. One was handsome and mature, the other gayly fresh and young. Where Nora was a tigress, a temptress of the first order, Hilda was a dreamer, a sentimental urchin.
"Would you like to run around the boat with me?" Hilda lured me with a coaxing smile.
I was a little too-grown-up to play with a child, but I felt that I would not risk any great harm and condescended to entertain the slip of a girl.
"Take this mooring rope and chase me with it. I will run and you will chase me trying to spank me all the time with this heavy cord. You'll see it's fun."
I hardly thought it would be, but why not give it a try and humor the poor girl. Anyway, Hilda was so lovely, I really couldn't turn her down. I picked up the hefty rope and gave her a gentle pat on her rear end.
"Oh you'll have to hit harder than that if you want to catch me. Come and try catch me."
Well she was asking for it. She skipped off squealing with pleasure as I lashed out, nipping her with the thick rope. She teased and screamed.
"You can't catch me, sissy, you can't catch me."
I never did like being called a 'sissy' and especially not by a brash young girl. I swopped her a good one you know where and she screeched with joy. While we continued our merry chase, my pants got hooked onto a railing and stopped me from advancing on my teasing new friend. She stood there howling with laughter and had to cover her mouth in order to keep her from completely bursting out. When I freed myself, I chased her this time in earnest. Whop, I caught her right across her waist. Another slap slipped off her back. A third snapped dryly on her buttocks.
She stopped and grabbed onto the railing to recapture her breath. Her mocking laughter provoked me into doubling my slashes until I produced a cry of agony that mingled with her hysterical joy.
A voice boomed out from a few feet away. It was Mrs. Rugt.
"What are you two doing?"
She turned to Hilda and let fly a slap that would have stung the most hardened cheek.
"I have told you never to come on deck without my permission."
Hilda was apparently humiliated and began to cry. She seemed more of a girl of 12 than the young woman she was supposed to be.
She received another solid blow and sauntered off like a beaten puppy-dog.
Nora Rugt coolly turned to me and with a voice as soft and calm as the one I heard after our tryst in the lower deck stateroom said:
"Hilda serves as your counterpart. She is our cabin girl so to speak."
They couldn't have done better. Hilda was a delicious morsel of femininity. Although she had her own peculiar eccentricities of which in time I would comprehend, she had silently won a place in my heart.
"Hilda has been taught to obey me and you have seen what happens to her when she is naughty."
Mrs. Rugt's eyes blazed and she tried to see whether I understood the nuance. Her look was serious for a moment and then it changed to a mellowing loveliness.
"Tonight I will explain everything to you in the company of Paul, my husband and Hilda. We must have harmony if we are to have a successful journey and there are many matters that should be clarified, rather through actions than words however."
I agreed whole-heartedly. I seemed to wish to please her more than anything else. My true personality never got a chance to express itself. Normally I would have asked many vital questions, but this imposing, victorious woman kept me at bay. A vague notion entered my head. Would I wind up as pitifully servile as her husband? I could not let myself believe this was possible and determined to stick up for my rights as an individual.
I was preparing an attack of words when her long sensual fingers touched my hair and set tingling sensations all over me.
"I like you Peter and I don't want anything to spoil my affection for you."
She enticed me as no other women could. I felt this in my loins. Her perfume penetrated my good senses and left them limp.
"You will see that everything will work out splendidly. We have four other people who will be sharing 'our comfort'. Mrs. Wagner who will meet us this afternoon and her newly acquired husband, Melvin Roach. There will also be Stevedore Jack Dill to manage the craft and I'm afraid his maudlin wife, whom I detest, will accompany him. I would not stand her for a minute if it weren't for Jack Dill. He is competent in so many ways."
She lit a cigarette which she took out of her short waistcoat pocket. After a deep puff which showed a measure of her superb sensuality, she dilated her nostrils in thought and invited me to descend to my cabin.
"You want to wash up, no doubt. I'll lead you to your cabin where you'll have at least an hour to familiarize yourself with the arrangements we have set up for you."
Once again she took the initiative and spun her enchanting form in the direction of the door leading below. Her subtle movement drew me to her like a bee to honey. If I had known how to analyze myself better, I would have known that I was already following her out of slavery.