Chapter 1
"Isn't Eve Sedgewick lovely?" someone murmured, and there was a general turning of heads and flutter of whispers as eager, bright eyes turned to see the famed beauty enter the statesroom of the yacht.
She certainly was a gorgeous creature. Her golden blonde hair spilled around smooth, alabaster shoulders, framing a delicately hewn oval-shaped face.
Her eyes were large and cool blue, and there was a supercilious arch to her eyebrow, as if to say, "I'm better than you are, and I know it."
She had a small, perky nose and full, voluptuously sensuous lips, the color of passion fruit.
Her figure was magnificent. She was wearing a shimmering white chiffon gown which was sleeveless and cut shockingly low over her curvaceous torso.
Her thrusting, ballooning breasts pressed against the pale material as if ready to spring free at any moment.
Her waist was trim and slender, and her hips just wide enough to be sensual without being pudgy.
The gown ended at her heels, but there was a gash up to her right knee on either side, and her shapely legs could be seen as she walked, screened by black net stockings.
A strand of pearls adorned her neck, and a small pearl and emerald brooch rested on her chest and rose and fell as she breathed.
Other than that, she wore no jewelry. No rings adorned her lovely, delicate hands, no bracelets could be seen on her slender wrists.
Eve Sedgewick's style was something almost chimerical. It couldn't really be defined.
She was always dressed very simply, yet very expensively, and she always looked impeccably well dressed.
She had made the list of ten best dressed women in the country for the past three years.
She was also one of the wealthiest women in the world.
And Eve was bored. Her ice blue eyes raked impudently over the motley assortment of wealthy or celebrated persons who were ogling her with greedy, curious eyes.
Eve Sedgewick was not much seen in public.
A swarm of guests descended on her, and she traded politenesses and cool nods and shook hands and smiled emptily at a myriad of unpleasant people, wishing she was anywhere else on earth.
"Hey, there, lady," a husky masculine voice rang out in her ear, "I didn't think you were going to make it!"
Eve turned and gazed up into the eyes of one of the most sexually attractive men she had ever encountered.
Hank Dubloon grinned wolfishly down at her, his hot black eyes raking like burning coals over her figure, his face not concealing the lust he was feeling.
Eve shivered, feeling the animal lust that sparked from him, infiltrating her with excitement.
She drew in an irregular breath, feeling something akin to fear, as she remembered now why she had accepted Hank Dubloon's invitation to come to the party on his yacht.
When he had asked her two nights ago, they had been at a formal dinner, and he sat next to her in a tuxedo, and as they ate and he talked, she felt a strange, involuntary thrill of excitement ripple through her. She found her pussy getting damp as she sensed the powerful masculinity of the man beside her.
She impetuously tried to rebel against this unusually strong reaction. Eve Sedgewick was a spoiled rich girl who was used to getting what she wanted.
At twenty, and with a fortune the size of hers, she was easily one of the most eligible single girls in America. All the best men were at her feet.
But she felt cool toward most of the fops and booze guzzling second sons of millionaires who vainly attempted to woo her into matrimony.
She felt restless and bored and unfulfilled. So the thrill she had received from her first meeting with Hank Dubloon made her curious. But she tried to hide her interest. If anything, she was cooller to Hank than to any of the other guests at the formal affair.
He leaned toward her near the end of the meal and said in a low, but authoritative tone which made her shudder involuntarily, "I am having a party on my yacht Saturday evening. You will come. I will send a car for you at seven."
Eve turned toward him with a look of mingled bafflement, excitement and rage. How DARE he? Her haughty self raged indignantly, but another, subtler self thrilled to Harry's voice.
"I very rarely go to parties," she had said in her iciest, coolest voice.
"But you will come to mine," he said decisively.
With a gasp, Eve stared at her eating companion, her head whirling.
There was something hard and brutish about his features. He had a bullet-shaped head and short-cropped dark brown hair, thick eye brows over a lowering pair of smoldering eyes.
His nose had been broken a couple of times, and his hard, thin lipped smile was almost a snarl.
He was dressed in a tuxedo, but the contrast was startling, like seeing Mr. Hyde in Mr. Jekyll's clothing.
He stared steadily at her, his eyes glinting with strange, powerful confidence.
He said slowly, "You will come because I want you there. My car will pick you up seven. Good evening, madam."
He rose abruptly, and strode away, leaving Eve staring after him, her mouth open, thunderstruck with vexation and curiosity.
She told herself she would not go. The whole thing was too, too silly. But on Saturday, she began to make herself look good.
She took a long bath, did her hair, carefully applied her make-up, and took two full hours to decide on the outfit she would wear.
Her practised, critical eye settled finally on the simple, practical, and radiantly beautiful white chiffon gown she had purchased several weeks earlier.
And at seven, the limousine pulled up in front of her estate, she got in, and was whisked away to the docks where a small motorboat took her out to the spot where Dubloon's yacht, "Blackbeard" was anchored.
Like Eve, Hank Dubloon was an immensely wealthy and famous man of means who happened to be single. He was, in fact, a loner and something of a recluse.
His past was mysterious, and shady; gossips said he had risen with liberal help from the Mafia.
At thirty-one, he was a multimillionaire with his finger in numerous pies which proved to be immensely profitable.
People murmured beneath their breath about strange rumors of sadism in Hank's island fortress of a home in the Caribbean.
He had constructed an authentic reproduction of a Medieval castle on the island, and strange guests were occasionally shuttled over via sea plane or boat for wild parties when Dubloon was in residence.
The islanders of the nearest island which visitors used as a stepping stone to Hank's private castle in the sea, whispered that sometimes, visitors never returned, and fisherman whose boats drifted near the ghostly floating castle late at night, claimed that pealing, blood-curdling screams quavered in the distance.
But mostly, people talked about Hank Dubloon's money.
Part of Eve's frustration was the fact that here was one man who was her equal in fortune, and therefore, was not a fortune hunter, and a man who had the gall to treat her like some contemptible whore, ordering her about...
These were the angry thoughts which rushed through Eve's mind as she waded through the flock of guests in the stateroom.
But the sound of his voice and the sight of Hank Dubloon's towering, powerfully muscular body sent unwitting shudders of interest through her, and she almost lost her composure.
She managed a shaky smile and said, "I... I almost decided not to come."
Hank smiled faintly, his eyes mirthless. "You were commanded to come, Eve Sedgewick. When I command you to do something, you will do it."
His voice was low and even, but harsh and deadly. His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he scowled into her face.
A strange clammy fear clutched at Eve's heart, and again, that impulsive flurry of excitement quivered in her tummy.
But she mustered up a false front of indignation.
In a low furious voice she gasped between gritted teeth, "How DARE you talk to me like that? What a nerve you've got..."
"Shut up," he snapped, and the words died in her mouth.
He had leaned forward and clamped his big beefy hand around one of her slender wrists and had squeezed it forcefully.
Eve shuddered, feeling the strength of his grip, feeling the pull of his magnetic masculine personality.
"Come," he said abruptly, "we need some privacy."
He held on to her arm and practically dragged the dazed millionairess out of the stateroom and down onto the lower deck.
He yanked her to the end of the corridor and unlocked the door to his private cabin.
He shoved her inside, stepped in after her, and closed the door firmly.
Eve turned and looked at him, gasping now more with fear than anything else. Those burning eyes of hers struck terror in her hurt.
He looked her up and down impudently, and she noticed with a shudder a thick bulge tenting the crotch of his dress slacks.
"W-What do you want from me?" she managed to gasp.
Hank strode forward abruptly until he was standing in front of her. He reached down and grabbed her hand. Almost casually, he pressed her hand between his wide stretched legs, making her feel his hard, pulsating erection which throbbed mightily along his leg.
Eve gave a little shocked shriek, wrenching her hand loose, and made a mad dart for the door.
"You"re crazy!" she gasped, clutching for the handle.
A hard hand dug cruelly into her shoulder, spinning her roughly around.
With a grunt, Hank Dubloon swung his other hand, slapping her hard across the face, jerking her shocked face to one side.
He brought his hand back in another resounding slap which knocked Eve's head violently to the left.
She staggered forward, her head spinning, spots flickering before her eyes, her face stinging, her ears singing.
Hank reached out and dug his hands into the bodice of her expensive chiffon gown, gripping firmly to the bodice.
He gave a loud grunt and yanked down on the dress brutally. The delicate material was ripped into shreds, tearing the dress right down the front.
With several violent jerks, he rendered the remaining strands of material from her body.
Eve gave a weak scream, her head clearing, and she squeaked, "Y-You've torn my dress..."
Reaching out, Hank clapped his big, brutish hand about her throat and squeezed choking the words in her throat and making her face turn blue.
He jerked his face down next to hers and hissed into her grimacing features as she gave little strangled grunts of desperation, "You will not question anything I say or do! You will obey me explicitly, bitch, or you will pay dearly for the consequences!"
Abruptly, he released her throat. Eve gave a painful gasp, inhaling several lungs full of oxygen, her luscious womanly figure trembling uncontrollably.
Hank Dubloon's hot eyes raked up and down the nubile, partially unclad form of the gorgeous blonde millionairess. He grinned widely. It was not a pleasant grin; it made Eve shudder with fear as she stared at him, panting for breath.
Her full, thrusting, enormous breasts were completely bared. The heavy, crimson tipped ballooning knockers bobbed in the air as Eve shuddered and quailed before the massively muscular brute who stood before her.
He growled thickly and bent down, mashing his hard, hungry mouth against hers, kissing her hotly, his big, wet tongue probing deeply into her mouth, swabbing up her sweet saliva.
His big, calloused hands ran down her breasts, clutching and squeezing at them lustily.
He caught her hot, red nipples between his knuckles and began to squeeze and twist them as he kissed her.
He squeezed tighter and tighter, tugging the aching rivets of flesh away from her body and crushing them brutally with his fingers.
Eve's body jerked with pain, and she pushed feebly against Hank's chest.
With a bestial snarl of rage, he drew back, his eyes blazing with rage, and drew back his hand, gritting his teeth.
Eve cowered before him, whimpering desperately, "No! NO! I-I'll do what you want! Anything!"
Her head was swimming. Her fear was so strong it made her knees wobble. But a strange thing was happening. Her pussy was starting to get moist.
She was wearing a tight, gauzy pair of pink panties which sloped over the soft, downy hill of her lambent mons Veneris.
Roger released her hot tits, and they buoyantly bounced back into place, the rosy nipples erect as rivets and throbbing with mingled pain and pleasure.
Roger drew his hands down her sides and over her belly. He hooked his fingers in the elastic lining of her panties and yanked down hard, grunting with exertion.
The skimpy garment ripped like tissue, coming to pieces in his burly hands.
Eve gave a broken sob as she felt her delicate, petal soft thighs bared to the brute's savage whims.
Hank stared unabashedly down at her soft, golden fringed cunt. He saw the faint glitter of liquid in the delicate pubes and along the puckered pink lips, and grinned wolfishly.
He had been right about this slut. She was ripe for domination. She was ripe for initiation into servitude.
There was nothing Hank Dubloon liked more than to subdue and dominate extremely haughty, supercilious ladies who thought they were above everyone else.
He had had his eye on Eve Sedgewick for years. Like the aloof millionairess, Hank was not much of a socialite in the conventional sense.
He never attended parties, and the guests who were invited to his island resort were shrouded in mystery. No one knew what went on, on that island...
He had planned things carefully. He found out that Eve was making a rare appearance at an affair on a Friday, and would therefore be at her town estate for several days.
Immediately, he planned a party of his own on his private yacht, and easily managed to not only receive an invitation to the affair to be attended by Eve, but to also sit next to her at dinner.
Things had happened like clockwork. He grinned exultantly. His heart pounded in his chest with fierce, animalistic elation as he ogled the nude, quivering body of that icy bitch, Eve Sedgewick.
He saw the rank fear in her huge blue eyes. Reaching out, he tangled his hand in the thick, luxurious golden tresses, yanking her forward hard.
He kissed her on the mouth hard, and then jerked her head down, making her cry out as the hairs tore painfully at the roots.
"On your knees, bitch!" he ordered harshly.
With a broken sob of terror, Eve fell to her knees on the floor of the cabin. Her head was whirling, his grip was relentless on her hair.
"Unbuckle my belt and take down my pants, bitch!" he ordered thickly, yanking her head back cruelly and forcing her to look up into his lust enfevered face.
"Do it, slut, or you're gonna get hurt!" he growled menacingly.
With trembling fingers, Eve reached up and fumbled with the bronze buckle on his thick leather belt, shuddering as she unbuckled it.
She choked back a sigh, unhooking his fly. Then, with quivering fingers, she grasped hold of his cold zipper and drew it down.
Impatiently, Hank wrenched at her hair again.
"Take my pants down, bitch! But don't touch that jock strap or I'll slap your fuckin' face!"
Shuddering and whimpering, Eve tugged timorously at his dress slacks, pulling them down. Then dropped about his wide spread ankles, revealing his muscular, towering, tree trunk like legs, bristling with hairs.
A soiled jock strap cupped his crotch, but his enormous hard-on tented the jock outward, allowing several inches of the prodigious member to escape and throb against Hank's hard, hairy belly.
Impatiently, Hank kicked off his trousers, still wearing his natty black dress shoes and black socks.
He lifted one leg and snarled down at her, "See that shoe, bitch? I think the sole's a trifle dirty. Clean it!"
Evee frowned with a frightened, blank look, not comprehending what it was he wanted her to do.
He wrenched her hair savagely from side to side and roared, "LICK IT, SLUT! LICK MY FUCKIN' SHOE!"
He shoved the dazed, sobbing beauty down on her hands in knees in front of him and extended one of his patent leather shoes.
Her nostrils quivered as she inhaled the rich leather scent, and a strange trembling of desire disturbed her loins.
She puckered her lips, pressing them to the toe of the boot, and let her tongue slide out and lap over the shoe.
"Underneath, bitch!" Hank snarled, lifting his shoe and mashing the sole of it against her cheek rudely.
Eve shuddered, turning her head and letting her tongue glide wantonly up and down the underside of the shoe.
Dust and dirt came off on her tongue, causing her to gag somewhat, but a strange excitement had come over her, a need to obey his harsh commands, a need to allow herself to be subjected to his brutish desires.
She lapped and sucked at the shoe until it was sparkling clean. Then, he lifted his other foot and had her suck and lick it, too.
"Move up my body, bitch," he growled thickly, "I want to feel your sluttish tongue on every inch of my flesh!"
Shuddering, Eve crouched obediently at his feet, bending forward and kissing his ankle, moving slowly up to his knee, lapping and sucking. She darted her head down and gave the same treatment to his other lower leg.
She lapped his knees and heavily muscled calves until her tongue wriggled and strained around the bulge formed by Hank Dubloon's enormous, baseball sized balls contained within his jock.
As she lapped at him, he jerked off his tie and rapidly unbuttoned his dress shirt and coat.
He shrugged them off and stood before her, stark naked, his massively muscular, extremely hairy physique towering over her impressively.
"Stand up!" he ordered harshly.
Unsteadily, Eve got to her feet, shivering uncontrollably.
He bent down and kissed her rapaciously on the mouth, and then drew abruptly back.
"Lick my chest, slut! Get it good and clean!" he ordered thickly.
Sighing tremulously, Eve Sedgewick leaned forward, pressing her puckered rosy red lips against his collar bone, slowly gliding down over on of the immense, concrete hard slabs of his bulging pectoral muscles.
Her tongue and lips tangled in the thick, curly, dark hairs which coiled over his body like foliage.
She lapped and sucked at each of his hard brown paps and began to let her tongue slide over the ridged, hard plane of his hairy belly when he grabbed her suddenly by the head and wrenched her up again.
"You forgot my pits, slut!" he snarled evilly, lifting one arm and shoving her face rudely into his musky, sweaty pit.
The blasting heat of the pit made Eve shudder and gasp. Her tongue darted out, twisting around the damp tuft of hair there, and she inhaled and tasted the pungent scent of unwashed masculinity which coursed through her blood like an intoxicant.
"Now the other one!" Hank growled.
Eve serviced his hairy arm pits, and slid down, lapping his flaring lats and snaking her tongue across his washboard rippling belly, licking his navel, and giving a low sob as she bumped against the fat, knobby head of his cock which had forced its way out of the jock and was rubbing hotly against her cheek.
Gripping her hair again, Hank ordered thickly, "Lift my jock down around my balls and snap it beneath them!"
Gulping with mingled fear and excitement, Eve obeyed, snapping the jock beneath his huge, sweaty balls, lifting them impressively.
"Suck those nuts, cunt!"
Eve's head darted down without hesitation. She had abandoned herself to the bizarre situation.
She was no longer thinking rationally, or making desperate plans of escape. She was simply wrapped up in the conflicting sensations which ravaged her voluptuous twenty year old body.
Her tongue whisked over the hairy, wrinkly sac, feeling the thick, scum-filled balls contained within. Eve shuddered, savoring the musky flavor of his sex and inhaling his hot, pungent masculine aroma.
Greedily she sucked and lapped at his testicles, feeling them throb and grow tighter as she worked them over.
She thrust her tongue beneath his scrotum and wriggled it wantonly back and forth.
Hank gripped her by the hair once more, tilting her head back.
"Open your mouth wide!" he ordered thickly.
Eve whimpered, but obeyed, yawning her jaws as widely apart as she could, making her moist red lips form a delectable satiny 'O' shape.
With a grunt, Hank fisted his ten inch whanger and maneuvered the thick, pulpy, heart-shaped corona against her succulent lips and forced them apart, jerking her head forward cruelly.
Eve gave a startled, muffled squeal as the thick, heavy member forced its way into her mouth, flattening her tongue and scraping against the top of her mouth.
She shuddered as he began to brutally saw his hips back and forth, his twitching, rigid manhood squelching over the silky trench formed by her wiggling tongue.
Hank savagely slammed her face forward as he humped his hips back and forth.
Eve's eyes bulged and her face changed colors several times. She made a strangled attempt at a sound, but the entire length of his mammoth, ten inch truncheon had battered its way down her constricting throat and was now securely imbedded in her gullet.
Eve's puckered, swollen lips and dainty upturned nose were mashed against Hank Dubloon's sweaty, wiry pubes.
Her head spun. What was happening? Was this awesome brute of a man going to choke her on his horse-sized phallus??
It sure seemed as thought that was what he was trying to do!
Her eyes bulged. She began to see stars. There was a ringing in her ears.
She couldn't breathe! Her gullet and mouth were totally clogged by the brutal sadist's ten inch whanger.
Oh my God! she thought. Am I going to die like THIS? On my knees in the statesroom of a yacht, choked by a huge, thick slab of manmeat?
But as the tendrils of unconsciousness began to slowly wind their way around her mind, Hank Dubloon gave a grunt, relaxing his grip on her hair and drawing back so that about half of his truncheon slid out of her throat.
Hank grinned savagely down at her as the pretty, shuddering millionairess gulped down lungsful of oxygen, her lips still circled around his big beefy boner.
"Yeah, you slut! You're gonna learn to serve a real man! This is just the beginning!