Collier played host at his party. But he also left just before ten, because he had a meeting scheduled back in his office. He had spent his day busily wheeling and dealing, because he had grown a little doubtful about Vitoria. The man had the wrong kind of friends. Brewster Panton, the Bahamian Prime Minister, and Francis Thompson, Panton’s Finance Minister, sat with him around a table, and a couple of lawyers danced attendance.
‘We can fix Altenburg tomorrow.’ Collier poured himself a good slug of whisky from the bottle of scotch in the middle of the table. Panton and Thomson preferred cuba libres. ‘Meanwhile we’ve got a deal. The Commonwealth of the Bahamas guarantees us, we buy the villa, and we loan it back to you as a summer residence.’
Panton beamed. He was a thickset man with short, grizzled hair, of almost pure African descent. The black population of the Bahamas had come a long way in just five short years, from second-class status to political power, and it was a triumph. Altenburg’s villa was one of the prizes.
‘We will be happy with that.’ His voice was deep and powerful.
‘The Commonwealth also guarantees me, I buy Altenburg out of King Cay Developments, and sell his stake on.’
Thompson frowned. ‘But not to Vitoria.’
Collier laughed. ‘Never to Vitoria.’
The two lawyers smiled discreetly.
Collier nodded. He had worked his butt off, but he was home and dry. He had spent the past week assembling a group of wealthy West Coast investors, Hollywood film moguls. Jewish guys, who would have jibbed at dealing with Altenburg for historical reasons. But the Bahamian government provided a neat cushion. Vitoria and Altenburg could now take their drugs and nazi thugs somewhere else, and let him get on with building King Cay into the world’s most dazzling resort.
Sylvia
looked at her watch again. Now it was time. She found the big man with the
menacing expression was waiting by an open door..
He
nodded to her. ‘The taxi waits for you. He knows where to take you.’ But he
eyed Lindsay suspiciously. This man was not an ideal choice. Then he shrugged
to himself. He was only a bodyguard, and a messenger, and it was not for him to
choose or refuse. He had carried out his instructions. But he held Sylvia back
for a moment, whilst her companion was getting into the taxi.
‘Here.’
He handed her a small plastic phial. ‘Take one each in the car, and another
when you arrive at the house.’
Sylvia
looked down at the phial. It contained four little blue pills, and she judged
them to be amytal nitrate party poppers. She nodded. She was in party mood,
just the right kind of party mood, and she needed no chemical assistance. But
thrills are thrills, and added thrills would build excitement. She waited for
the taxi to swing out past the gates of the gates of the East Hill Club and
popped two into her mouth, before draping herself against her Englishman. She
would kiss a party popper into this man, and profit from the impact.
Lindsay
felt her push something into his mouth with the tip of her tongue, and was
immediately alert. He broke away from her, spitting the thing into his palm. It
was a small blue pill, and he had seen them at London parties. For a moment he
felt suspicious: he knew he was on his way to some kinky party, where he would
be expected to perform, and had also recognised the big man with the menacing
expression. However then he shrugged, and popped the pill back. He had no need
for stimulation, but stimulation might show the Cuban his strength. Maybe he
could also try to have it away with two girls at the same time, and possibly take
on a third, and any other females present for that matter. There were times
when England expected every man to do his duty, and he would serve to his very
best ability. But he wondered whether Sylvia had any ulterior motive.
‘Why
this?’
‘He
expects us to be good, and we must not fail him.’ She had her hand now on
Lindsay’s slacks, and they were unzipped, and she was gently stroking the end
of his penis, but on the upper side, because she neither wished him to
ejaculate, nor to make a mess of his clothing. She thought of bending a little
lower, and perhaps stroking it with tip of her tongue. But she desisted,
because she had no wish for her assignment to go off at half cock, or for
anything to jeopardise the balance of her thousand dollar payment, and it was
possible that the taxi driver might have fitted a strategic mirror, for
watching events on his back seat, and she had no desire to distract him and
land herself in a roadside ditch.
The
taxi purred on into the night, and then slowed. They had stopped in front of an
anonymous bungalow, and it was mostly in darkness, but there was a light above
the front door. They got out of the cab, and it purred off into the night as
Lindsay refastened his slacks. The door opened, and a man beckoned to them
without speaking. He was masked, and naked to the waist, a young man and
muscular. He lookeds at Sylvia, and spoke to her in Spanish. ‘The first door on
the right is a bedroom. Please go in there and undress. You will find a variety
of …’ He paused momentarily. ‘Of dress. Choose what you like best, and then go
through the door that is open into the second bedroom. You will find two other
couples in there. The master is there already. ‘
Sylvia
took her Englishman by the hand. This was quite exciting, and she could feel
the drug starting to work within her. She pushed at the door. The light was
dim, but she can see a clothes rack by the bed, and it was hung with a variety
of garments – what appeared to be robes in black and white silk, and a hooded
raincoat in clear vinyl and another in a material that smelled like latex.
There were also some whips, dangling by their handles. She inspected them all,
and sniffed. None were becoming, none would flatter her. She would stay in her
white satin, and do a striptease, because it was a thing she had also done in
Brazil, earning her much praise and approbation. But she must not be selfish,
and so she draped herself around Lindsay, and kissed him tenderly, and she was
in a mood for great loving.
‘Tell
me, Englishman. Do you think these things would suit me?’ She punctuated her
words with kisses, and made use of the occasion to kiss another pill into him,
because now she could feel her blood racing, and it was hard for her to hold
herself back.
Lindsay
pushed her towards the bed, because passion was also now growing in him, and he
needed to slake his lust. But Sylvia shook her head, kissing him again, most
tenderly. ‘No, querido. It is not yet time, mi amor.’ She was a practical girl,
and her thousand dollars brooked no refusal. ‘Wait just a little, and we will
make fireworks.’
She
pushed him gently towards the second door. It opened into a rather larger
bedroom with a very large bed covered only by a sheet. One couple was already
on the bed, and it was a sight that provoked her greatly, because the man was
built like a stallion, and he was driving himself hard into his woman. A second
couple were undressing each other, and the man was quite erect, running his
hands up and down his woman’s flanks and occasionally touching her nipples, each
in turn, and her breasts were small and upturned, and the woman was the woman
who had told Lindsay that he was only present at Collier’s buffet to kiss
Collier’s ass. A third man sat in an armchair, watching them, and he was also
masked, but Lindsay judged him to bear a remarkable resemblance to Vitoria.
Sylvia
took in both couples and knew she could do better. One was just having sex,
though the woman was groaning as though she was being stabbed to death, and the
other two lacked imagination. She determined to give a performance to outshine
them all. She stepped back from Lindsay, holding up her hand.
‘I
will undress, and then I will undress you.’ She was already reaching behind
herself to reach the zip on her dress, and it was a gesture of grace, and she
was swaying to a tune that she remembered from a nightclub in Rio where she had
stripped at a party. She pushed her white satin dress down to her waist,
closing on Lindsay as she unfastened her bra, to draw it gently across his face
and toss it over her shoulder, and then took his face in both her hands,
pulling it down to her breast. She chose her right breast and stood sideways on
to the masked man watching her, so that he could her actions quite clearly, and
then pushed her dress and panties down, shaking them clear of her, so that she
was standing quite naked, and put her hands on Lindsay’s shoulders, pushing him
down so that he knelt in front of her, and offered herself to him, leaning
backwards a little, so that she could feel his tongue questing against her, and
then she turned, and bent forward in front of him, so that her buttocks were
pushing upwards, and parted herself with her fingers, pressing herself up
against his face.
Then
she straightened. ‘Now I undress you.’ She could see that her Englishman was
wholly ready for her, because he was straining at his zip, and his hands were
caressing her most gently. But it was a moment for display. She opened the zip
deftly, to give him some freedom, and then began to unbutton his shirt, button
by button, swaying to the music in her head again, pushing his shirt back, and
off his shoulders, her hands caressing on his flesh, and kissed him again
quickly, just to keep him under control, because here was a man who was most
willing, and most impatient, and she must keep him at bay for just a few
moments longer. And then, with a long slow lazy movement, she pushed at his
slacks and underpants, and his manhood came jumping out to confront her, and it
was a moment of truth. She went down slowly, onto her knees, but still always
swaying, and then slowly, very slowly, she approached him, opening her mouth to
take him in, and closed her lips gently, cupping her hands under his testicles,
and her fingers were most gentle, and it was time for their mating. The bed was
big, large enough for several couples, but two couples were already busy. So
she tugged at Lindsay, holding him by his handle, and took him in front of the
masked man, and made Lindsay lie back on a corner of the bed, where he was just
in front of the man, and lowered herself onto him, moving with deliberation,
and she was still moving with the rhythm playing itself in her mind, raising
and lowering herself, and she smiled down at Lindsay fondly, because she knew
she was earning every cent of her reward. And then she felt a wave gather in
her, and curl up over itself, and she bent forward over Lindsay, gripping his
arms tightly as the wave broke within her, and she was fulfilled, and she knew
that they were both fulfilled, and it was a moment of magic, because she had
performed to her utmost. She rested for a moment, still seated on Lindsay,
because now their first passion was spent, and he was merely a cushion. But she
still smiled down at him fondly, because she could feel that he was still
powerful, and he had played a good part in her drama, providing her fulfilment,
and she knew that this was just the first act.
The
masked man raised his hand, and it was a summons. He pointed at Sylvia, and it
was a command. ‘Now, you are for me.’
She
shrugged slightly. She had engaged with more than one man before, and the man’s
summons presented no problem. She had created excitement with her Englishman,
and the seated man would merely rank as a business transaction. She lifted
herself from Lindsay, and then kneeling above him, bent forward quickly to
kisses him.
The
masked man was impatient. She tried to follow the same sequence with him,
taking him down onto her, and turning to bend and touch the carpet. But he had
no finesse. He pushed her away, wanting only to force himself into her. But he
was not large, and it was an embarrassing moment. She took him, holding his
manhood just as she had held her Englishman, and led him onto the bed. The two
other couples were still linked and groaning, and she wondered whether they had
perfected their lovemaking at some drama school. She pushed the masked man
back, bending over him, but he shook his head, and so she lowered herself on
him, holding his weakness in place with the tips of her fingers, and now she
was just engaging in a sexual exercise. But he was paying her a thousand
dollars, and so she did what she expected to do, until she felt him jerk
beneath her, but it was nothing to her, and he jerked again, and he had taken
what he wanted.
She
stayed on him, even though he was now shrivelled, wondering he would choose
next for a game. There are men who like to beat, and to be beaten. She was not
a powerful girl, but she was an actress, and could wield a whip with the best.
The
masked man pushed her aside roughly. ‘Now comes the aftermath.’
Sylvia
realised that a second masked man, the one who had met them on arrival, was now
in the room, holding a whip in his hand. It was not a large whip, perhaps
something for a dog. He leaned forward over the bed, to lash the couple closest
to him, his whip landing across the buttocks of the man driving into his woman.
It was a revelation. The man yelped, and his buttocks rose sharply into the
air. The man with the whip hit him again, and the man on the bed exploded into
a flurry of curses, swinging himself out and away from the woman under him, and
the man’s whip struck her hard across her stomach, and she rolled onto her
side, moaning with pain.
Sylvia
saw that the masked man who had taken her also now held a whip, and both men
lashed into the second couple. The man and woman on the bed parted, rolling
away to the sides, and the masked men pursued them as they crouched whimpering
on the floor, landing repeated blows.
Then
the masked man, the commander who had taken her, pointed to the bed. ‘Now you.’
Sylvia
shook her head. She was prepared to act a part in almost any drama, but she had
no desire to be beaten. It was a thing that could scar, leaving marks and
bruises. Her body was her fortune, and she had no wish to break it.
The
second masked man raised his arm, and struck her suddenly, across her
shoulders. Sylvia crouched forward, in an attitude of submission. This was no
longer play-acting, no longer a game. She looked around for her Englishman. She
needed protection. A second blow burned into her back, and she began to weep,
and knew now why she was being paid a thousand dollars. The masked man was mad,
pursuing some crazy agenda in his mind that linked sex with guilt and
punishment. Both men now stood over her, whipping her in turn, and she curled
herself in a foetal position, burying her face in her knees, and all she could
think was that her face was her fortune, a thing that she must protect from
this devastation, and she wept, because she had ventured unawares into hell.
Then
she sensed figures struggling above her, and two men fighting. But the whip
blows had ceased. A hand touched her shoulder. It was her Englishman.
‘We’d
better get out of here.’ Lindsay looked down at her, and he was panting. It
might be one thing to watch some thug lay into a hired couple on a bed, even
two hired couples on a bed, but Sylvia was his companion. He had seen her bonk
with the masked man, and it had not bothered him greatly, because he had passed
first, and a first passing was the only passing to count. But then a thug had
tried laying into her, and the assault had offended his sense of chivalry. He
had jumped on the thug from behind, capturing him in a most effective
throttlehold, and threatened, in broken Spanish, to take his whip and ram it up
somewhere most wholly damaging. Thugs who attacked women with whips were always
cowards, and the thug had whimpered for mercy. Lindsay could have quite easily
broken his neck, but the man’s master had signalled for peace.
They
both dressed again. But Sylvia had not forgotten her contract. She haggled for
a moment with the commander, and after a moment he acquiesced, because he knew
Lindsay had recognised him, and money changed hands. Lindsay called a cab.
Then
they stood together outside the bungalow, smiling at each other, because they
had won.
Linday
touched Sylvia’s shoulders gently. The whipping had raised great welts across
her skin, but it was not broken. ‘How do you feel?’
Sylvia
raised her arms to embrace him. The movement pained her, but the torture was
over, and she had pocketed her money. ‘I will survive, mi amor.’
She
kissed her Englishman tenderly. He had come straight to her rescue, when he
could have run to save his skin. Now she would go back with him to his hotel, and
reward him most handsomely, and pocket another reward. She felt a stab of pain
burn its way across her back, and suppressed it philosophically. She would be
more careful about engaging with rough men in future.
Lindsay
smiled. He imagined a spectacular rescue must warrant a spectacular reward.
The
taxi delivered them to the British Colonial, and it was now some way past
midnight. Lindsay paid the driver, and they stood hand in hand again as the
taxi purred off into the night.
Sylvia
stepped closer to him, folding her arms around his neck again. Her shoulders
still pained her, but she sensed that the pain was ebbing. ‘Now we will have a
good time, and I will reward you.’ Her words were a whisper. She disengaged one
hand, to feel whether he was still active, stroking her fingers against his
slacks, and felt him grow at her touch, and knew that he was in need, in a
world where male need readily pays for satisfaction.
Lindsay
made to lead her into the British Colonial, because he was impatient, but she
held him in place. ‘It is just a question of a small present, querido. Not too
much, because you have been good to me.’ Sylvia’s mind calculated at speed.
She decided to be generous. ‘A hundred
dollars, and you will never forget it.’
Lindsay laughed. He was not shocked, because
Sylvia was a party girl, and party girls are all one. But he had already had
sex with her once without paying, and he considered that she owed him a debt of
gratitude. She could whistle for payment. It was late, and he was going to Collier’s
island in the morning, and sleep might be a better choice.
Sylvia
frowned. She was not accustomed to men swelling at her, and then refusing to
part with their money. It must be something to do with the English temperament.
She felt her own blood racing, and knew that she wanted this man, and must have
this man, and that he was being most unreasonable. She whispered again, because
of the need in her. ‘Maybe just fifty dollars?’ She was a top party girl, and
she could go no lower.
Lindsay
shook his head. ‘I’ll get you a cab.’
This
was impossible. She was enraged, she was shocked, she was driven by desire. She
had not had sex without payment since turning fifteen, but she must have this
man, it was imperative. She took a deep breath, because she was a party girl,
and what she was about to do was wholly against all her principles, and then
she nodded. ‘All right, Englishman, we will do it.’ She paused, because there
were things for which she wished, but they were not the normal currency of
party girl encounters. ‘But you must do it to please me, and I will then please
you, but only when you have pleased me entirely.’
She
kissed Lindsay, and then kissed him again in the hotel lift, and kissed him
again as they stood in his room. ‘You must undress me, Englishman, and you must
fill me with pleasure.’
Lindsay
smiled, undressing quickly, and stood in front of her, and gently slid her
white satin dress from her shoulders. He caressed the back of her neck with the
tips of his fingers, planting small kisses along the line of her jaw, and down
her shoulderblades, and onto her
breasts, that were like peaches in the semi-darkness of his room. He licked at
her nipples, each in turn, and took each one to knead it gently into awareness,
and then bit on them gently, and he could feel the hardness gathering within
them, reflecting his own swelling.
Then
he pushed her gently back onto his bed, parting her legs gently to kiss her her
stomach, and the hairs at the parting of her legs, tasting the saltiness of her
as he probed into her with his tongue, and Sylvia groaned a little, because now
her Englishman was pleasing her greatly. She felt him lay a fresh trail of
kisses across her stomach, and his fingers probing into her again, penetrating
her in a gentle semblance of lovemaking, and she writhed a little in her
pleasure, reaching out to stroke him, and wanted to take him into her mouth,
but she knew she must not, because she did not want to curtail the pleasure he
could still give her. But her need began to burn in her, and she caressed his
testicles, probing gently into him with her own finger, because she hoped that
he would follow her lead, and rolled over, to lie with her back to him, pulling
up her knees in front of her so that he could shape himself against her, and
felt his penetration driving into her, and it was what she had been seeking.
But she realised that he was moving too gently to let himself go, and rolled
away from him, to lie on her back, pulling him down on her, and they were two
bodies united in their heat and sweat, their mouths glued against each, arms
enfolding each other, driving themselves to the peaks of their passion. And
then they were spent, but they did not part, because they had more to give each
other, and they moved again, and again and again, until they possessed no power
to move any more. And then they slept in each others arms.